th, to be preceded by
the terrible ordeal of running the gauntlet.

But a British officer, influenced by the persuasions of the Indian chief
Logan, the friend of the white man, urged upon the Indian chiefs that
the British officers at Detroit would regard the possession of Kenton,
with the information he had at his command, as a great acquisition, and
that they would pay for him a ransom of at least one hundred dollars.
They took him to Detroit; the ransom was paid, and Kenton became the
prisoner of the British officers, instead of the savage chieftains.
Still he was a prisoner, though treated with ordinary humanity, and was
allowed the liberty of the town.

There were two other American captives there, Captain Nathan Bullit and
Jesse Coffer. Escape seemed impossible, as it could only be effected
through a wilderness four hundred miles in extent, crowded with
wandering Indian bands, where they would be imminently exposed to
recapture, or to death by starvation.

Simon Kenton was a very handsome man. He won the sympathies of a very
kind English woman, Mrs. Harvey, the wife of one of the traders at the
post. She secretly obtained for him and his two companions, and
concealed in a hollow tree, powder, lead, moccasins, and a quantity of
dried beef. One dark night, when the Indians were engaged in a drunken
bout, she met Kenton in the garden and handed him three of the best
rifles, which she had selected from those stacked near the house. The
biographer of these events writes:

"When a woman engages to do an action, she will risk limb, life or
character, to serve him whom she respects or wishes to befriend. How
differently the same action would be viewed by different persons! By
Kenton and his friends her conduct was viewed as the benevolent conduct
of a good angel; while if the part she played in behalf of Kenton and
his companions had been known to the commander at Detroit, she would
have been looked upon as a traitress, who merited the scorn and contempt
of all honest citizens. This night was the last that Kenton ever saw or
heard of her."

Our fugitives traveled mostly by night, guided by the stars. After
passing through a series of wonderful adventures, which we have not
space here to record, on the thirty-third day of their escape, they
reached the settlement at the Falls of the Ohio, now Louisville. During
the rest of the war, Kenton was a very active partisan. He died in the
year 1836, over eighty years of age,