ntry. It was a strong conditional cause of the war, peculiar as the
statement may sound to those born long after the troublesome times of
1774.

Pennsylvania accused our royal governor of being a land-grabber and the
catspaw or partner of land-speculators. His Lordship was interested in
land-speculation and so were many prominent Virginians. It is also true
that claims under Virginia patents would be worthless if Pennsylvania
controlled the junction of the Monongahela and the Alleghany Rivers and
sustained her claims to the surrounding country.

It is another fact that it was the rifles of Virginia which protected that
outlying region, and that many of the settlers in the disputed territory
preferred Virginia control. Every one realized that should our militia
push the Indians back and win a decisive victory our claims would be
immensely strengthened. And through Doctor Connolly we were already
handling affairs at Fort Pitt.

Because of these and other facts there was an excellent chance for an
intercolonial war. I am of the strong opinion that an armed clash between
the hotheads of the two provinces would have resulted if not for the
intervention of the Indian war.

At the beginning of hostilities the Indians proclaimed they would whip
Pennsylvania and would roast Virginians. However, when Benjamin Speare,
his wife and six children were massacred on Dunkard Creek early in June,
with similar bloody murders being perpetrated at Muddy Creek, all on
Pennsylvania soil, by John Logan, the Mingo chief, there was less foolish
talk north of the line.

All these thoughts of raids and reprisals, of white striving to outdo red
in cruelty, may seem to harmonize but ill with that soft June morning, the
flight of the red-start, the song of the oriole and the impish chatter of
the squirrels. Beech and oak urged one to rest in the shade; the limpid
waters of the river called for one to strip and bathe.

To heed either invitation incautiously invited the war-ax to be buried in
the head. However, we of the border always had had the Indian trouble, and
each generation had taken its pleasure with a wary eye and ready weapons.
Although the times were very dangerous and I was serving as scout for
thirty-three cents a day I could still enjoy the sweet aromas and
sympathize with the song of birds and yet keep an eye and ear open for
that which concerned my life.

In ascending the Monongahela I had seen many settlers crossing the river