aid or done, and struck
him with the flat of his sword. This was too much for the high-strung
teamster. He straightway knocked the redcoat officer senseless.

A drumhead court-martial sentenced the young Virginian to receive one
hundred lashes on the bare back. He was at once stripped, tied up,
and punished. Morgan said in joke that there was a miscount, and that
he actually received only ninety-nine blows. With his wonderful power
of endurance, the young fellow stood the punishment like a hero, and
came out of it alive and defiant.

This act, extreme even in those days of British cruelty, doubtless
nerved him to incredible deeds of bravery in fighting the hated
redcoats.

Shortly after this, he became a private in the militia. He made his
mark when the French and Indians attacked a fort near Winchester. The
story is that he killed four savages in as many minutes.

The young Virginian never drove any more army wagons. From this time,
he stood forth as a born fighter and a leader of men. Such was his
coolness in danger, his sound judgment, and, more than all else, his
great {109} influence over his men, that he was recommended to
Governor Dinwiddie for a captain's commission.

"What!" exclaimed the governor, "to a camp boxer and a teamster?"

Still, the best men of Virginia urged it, and the royal governor so
far yielded as to give him the commission of an ensign.

Not long afterwards, in one of the bloody fights with the French and
Indians, Morgan was shot through the back of the neck. The bullet
went through his mouth and came out through the left cheek, knocking
out all the teeth on the left side. Supposing that he was {110}
mortally wounded, and resolved not to lose his scalp, the fainting
rifleman clasped his arms tightly round the neck of his good horse,
and galloped for life through the woods. A fleet Indian ran after
him, tomahawk in hand. Finding at last that the horse was leaving him
behind, the panting savage hurled his weapon, and with a wild yell
gave up the chase.

[Illustration: Morgan's Escape from the Indian]

The hardy frontiersman lay for months hovering between life and
death, but finally recovered, and was once more in the thick of the
wild warfare.

In his old age, Morgan used to tell his grandchildren of the fiendish
look on the Indian's face while he felt sure of another scalp, and he
would also imitate the horrible yell the redskin made when he was
forced to give up the pursuit.

A