of a hillock or embankment on the farm.
He accordingly sallied out with his Indian rifle, in the haze of the
evening, taking with him a supply of _aqua vitae,_ as he facetiously
said, to keep up his "dander." After watching a considerable time, every
now and then applying his ear to the ground to listen for approaching
footsteps (a plan invariably followed by Indians themselves), he
ascertained that an Indian was in the vicinity; again intently
listening, he soon satisfied himself that the alarm he had experienced
was occasioned by one individual only. Instantly on the _qui-vive,_ he
first cocked his rifle, and, just as he descried the Indian's head
above the embankment he pulled with unerring aim the fatal trigger, when
with an agonizing howl, the Indian toppled backwards down the
embankment, and all was silent. Poe now sprang forward, and with his
knife severed the "war scalp" from the head of the savage, and after
securing his knife and rifle, returned to his home in high glee to
announce the horrid achievement. It was, however, deemed unsafe to
venture out again that night, for fear of other Indians of Black-foot's
band, who it was well known were in the neighbourhood.

In the morning Poe sallied out to the place of reconnoitre with some of
the inmates of the farm. Here they found, stretched on the ground,
weltering in gore, the vanquished warrior, who was now, for the first
time, from a plume he wore, and some other peculiarity in his
equipments, identified as the veritable "Sachem," who had for months
kept that settlement in a state of alarm. Poe was soon complimented by
the settlers around, and from that day forward became a celebrated
character.

I was subsequently told on board the canal packet, that the Indian
referred to, was not the notorious chief of that name, but a second-rate
warrior, who, having headed a band of marauders, ***med the soubriquet.
How far this may be the fact, I cannot determine. I, however,
frequently heard Poe's name mentioned as a brave defender of the
hearths and homes of the early settlers in the remote districts of Ohio.

I could perceive that his son's wife (a matronly dame of about sixty),
was adverse to such interviews, as, to use her expression, "they brought
the old man back to this world again, when he should be pondering on the
next," and that she was grieved at the recital of them; indeed, she
several times checked his expressions, when they bordered, as they not
unfrequ