brow of the hill, he ran squarely into
another band of Indians, trooping to the siege of Fort Henry. The
Indians recognized him. They all knew Sam McColloch and his white
horse; they asked no better prize.

"Sam! Now we got you, Sam!" They spread, to take him alive.

Again he wheeled. There were foes in front of him, foes closing in hot
behind him, and a dusky line extending on his right. On his left the
hill ended in a precipice. He chose the precipice, and with his
moccasined heels hammered his horse straight for it.

Yelling gleefully, the Indians ran after. Now they had Sam.

Just as the foremost arrived at the spot where Major Sam should be at
bay, they heard a crashing of brush and branches, a grinding of rock
and gravel. They peered over. It was three hundred feet to the creek
below--and plunging, scrambling, now on its haunches, now on its nose,
the white horse was bounding, leaping, sprawling, already half way
down, with the major firmly astride, reins in one hand, rifle in the
other.

For one hundred feet there was a sheer drop that might have daunted
even a deer. But the horse had taken it--he had struck on his feet,
where the rougher slope commenced; from there he had slid, braced, and
scratching fire from the rock; he was still sliding and pitching.
Other Indians panted in, to peer. Presently the defiant shout of Major
McColloch echoed up to them. He flourished his rifle, and splashing
through the creek went clattering into the timbered flat on the other
side.

Major McColloch's Leap was a famous spot through many years.

The reinforcements to the fort discouraged the Indians. It was saved.
Major McColloch also had been saved, but the red enemy did get him, at
last, five years later.

That was the fall of 1782. He and his brother John were looking for
Indian sign, out of the same Fort Van Metre which was located east of
the Short Creek settlement, over near the Monongahela River. They made
a circuit west, almost down to Wheeling, and on July 30 were circuiting
back by way of Short Creek, for Van Metre's again, without having
discovered a single track, when from the bushes half a dozen guns
opened on them.

Major Sam wilted in his seat and fell to the ground dead. John's horse
crumpled under him, dead also, but he himself was wounded only by a
scratch across his hip.

He saw that Sam was dead; the Indians were yelling--and as quick as
thought he had sprung to his brother's hors