uld
avoid the deep gorge and falls in the river by marching ten miles inland
and parallel to the east bank, joining Colonel Charles Lewis at the Elk.

By another man I was told how the militia men were given to shooting away
their precious ammunition, and how the colonel had warned that unless the
practise ceased no more powder would be given out. That the Indians were
active and not afraid of the troops was evidenced by an attack on
Stewart's Fort, only four miles from Camp Union. And this, before the
troops marched.

Colonel William Christian was in command of the rear-guard, and his men
were much disgruntled at the thought of not being in the forefront of the
fighting. What was most significant to me, although only an incident in
the estimation of the men left at Howard's Creek, was the attack made by
two Indians on two of Lewis' scouts, Clay and Coward by name.

The scouts had separated and one of the Indians fired on and killed Clay.
Thinking him to be alone, the Indians ran to get his scalp, and Coward at
a distance of a hundred yards shot him dead. Coward then ran back toward
the line of march and the surviving Indian fled down the Great Kanawha to
inform the Shawnee towns that the Long Knives were coming.

I lost no time in securing a horse and a supply of powder and in hurrying
to say good-by to Patricia. She was very sober when I told her I was off
to overtake the army. Placing both hands on my shoulders, she said:

"Basdel, I know you've forgiven all the disagreeable things I've said to
you. I will wait here until I hear from you. I will pray that you have an
equal chance with the other brave men."

"I will come back and take you over the mountains."

"If you will only come back you may take me where you will, dear lad, even
if it be deeper into the wilderness," she softly promised.

And Mrs. Davis bustled out of the cabin and energetically shooed the
curious youngsters away.

And now I was riding away to battle, riding right joyously over the
chestnut ridges and through the thick laurel, through stretches of pawpaw,
beech and flowering poplar, with the pea-vine and buffalo grass soft
underfoot. And my heart was as blithe as the mocking-bird's and there was
no shadow of tomahawk or scalping-knife across my path.

I knew the destiny of the border was soon to be settled, that it hinged on
the lean, leather-faced riflemen ahead, but there was nothing but sunshine
and glory for me in that September day