A History of the Daniel Boone National Forest 1770 - 1970

Daniel Boone's estimate of the Indian movement had been accurate. The Indians had crossed the Ohio close to the mouth of Cabin Creek, near the site of the present city of Maysville and, following the Warrior's Path, had proceeded south toward the Blue Licks where they would join the Great Buffalo Trace which led southward toward Fort Boonesborough.

Fort Boonesborough

On September 6, Boone's patrol detected the presence of this body of Indians and slipped around them in the woods at the Lower Blue Licks without being discovered. They continued rapidly south, moving faster than the Indians, and reached Fort Boonesborough that night, bringing full information of the impending attack to the fort.

On the night of September 6, 1778, just after Boone's force had crossed the river into the fort, the Indian force made camp on the north bank of the Kentucky River. They were a formidable force, by far the largest and best led to invade Kentucky up to that time. Boone and his scouts estimated the force to consist of 444 Indians, 12 Frenchmen and one Negro. They were led by the best and most capable war chiefs of the Shawnee.

In command of the entire expedition was the great Shawnee Chief Black Fish, Daniel Boone's foster father. Accompanying him were the experienced Chiefs Moluntha, who had led many raids into Kentucky; Catahecassa (Black Hoof), who had been born in Kentucky at Es-kip-pa-kith-i-ki (Indian Old Fields near today's Winchester, Kentucky) and who had been present at Braddock's defeat in 1776; and the famous Chippewa Chief Black Bird who, at a later date, left the British and joined the Americans. Serving as advisors to the expedition and representing the British General Hamilton at Detroit were 12 Frenchmen led by Lt. Antoine DeQuindre of Montreal. This group of advisors included such veterans as Peter Douiller, an experienced trader, and Isadore DeChaine, interpreter for the Wyandotts and the Ottawas. Accompanying the expedition also was a Negro slave named Pompey, probably captured in one of the raids on frontier settlements, and valuable to the expedition because of his ability to speak English. The expedition was accompanied by a train of about 40 packhorses carrying extra ammunition and supplies. From the size, composition and leadership of this force, it is obvious that the British at Detroit were the instigators and supporters of the entire operation, and that their advisors would exert a major influence on its operation.

The little garrison at Fort Boonesborough spent most of the night of September 6, 1778, in final preparation. All available containers were filled with water, additional bullets were molded, spare rifles and muskets were cleaned, repaired and loaded, and final instructions given to the families and riflemen of the garrison. Undoubtedly, a brief religious service was held for all, as the survival of the fort and its inhabitants was open to question in view of the overwhelming force about to attack it.

At this time, the garrison of Fort Boonesborough consisted of a fighting force of but 30 men and 20 boys, augmented by the wives and older daughters of families of Richard Callaway, Squire Boone and a few others. These women were excellent shots with the longrifle and were certainly a force to be reckoned with. All were determined to fight to the bitter end and to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Their hour of truth had arrived.

At this time there was some lack of agreement as to the official commander of Fort Boonesborough. Colonel Callaway was the senior in rank. Major William Bailey Smith had been appointed commandant of Fort Boonesborough, after the capture of Daniel Boone at Blue Licks, by Colonel George Rogers Clark. Despite these facts, the active leadership of the fort appears to have fallen to Daniel Boone, by common consent, in view of his experience in Indian warfare and general frontier capability. Because of this confidence and the leadership of Daniel Boone and the loyalty of most of the garrison to him, the chances of Fort Boonesborough surviving this attack had been greatly enhanced by his return from Indian captivity.

Early on the morning of Monday, September 7, 1778, the Indian force crossed to the south side of the Kentucky River at a point about one-half mile below the present bridge, which is still known as Black Fish Ford. Climbing the steep bank the Indians moved along the rear base of Hackberry Ridge until nearly opposite Fort Boonesborough. Crossing the ridge and moving forward under cover of the forest and undergrowth, they deployed under cover within rifle shot of the fort, completing an approach march that would have been a credit to any well-trained military unit.

It is important to note at this point that the Indians had made no effort at surprise or concealment. It is believed that the Indians and British were hopeful of capturing Fort Boonesborough without a fight. Boone's statement to Chief Black Fish, at the surrender at the Blue Licks the previous winter, that the residents of Boonesborough were loyal subjects of the British Crown and that if Black Fish returned the following summer, Boone would assist in arranging a surrender of the garrison, had been taken with some credence by Chief Black Fish. Coupled with this had been the friendliness of Governor Hamilton for Boone at Detroit and his relatively good treatment by the Indians. Also, at this point in the Revolution, many of the frontier settlers were not definitely committed to the Revolution and there was still the possibility they might retain their loyalty to the Crown.

It is entirely possible that both Governor Hamilton and Chief Black Fish actually believed that the appearance of an overwhelming force before Fort Boonesborough, coupled with an offer of honorable surrender and assurance of safe conduct of all to the comfortable living at Detroit, would result in their peaceful capitulation. Little did they reckon with the fierce loyalty, pride and courage of the settlers of the Kentucky frontier.

Indian actions at the beginning of the situation tend to support this attitude on the part of the British and Indians. Initially they made no hostile demonstration, but conducted themselves as might be expected of a force bent on opening negotiations. As soon as the major part of the force was in position before Fort Boonesborough, the Indians set forward an unarmed English-speaking messenger with a flag of truce.

As he approached across the open ground between the fort and Hackberry Ridge, all was quiet within the fort. In the peaceful cool of the morning, it appeared that the inhabitants still slept. The gates of the stockade were closed and the only signs of life was the smoke that curled slowly from the chimneys of some of the cabins within the fort.

However, the appearance belied the situation. Among the orders issued the previous evening was one to the effect that, to conceal the weakness of the garrison, all persons would stay within the fort and out of sight of the enemy. Despite the outward appearance, the nerves of the garrison were taunt, every eye was at a porthole of the cabin or the crack of the stockade, watching the approach of the messenger. As he attained easy calling distance of the fort, he mounted a stump and hailed the garrison with the usual frontier hello-oo. Receiving no answer he repeated his call which was answered, after a pause, from the block house nearest him. The messenger then announced that he was from a British force and that he was instructed to inform the fort that its commander was the bearer of letters from Governor Hamilton to Captain Boone, and that a meeting between the commanders of the opposing forces was desired to consider their proposal.

The garrison, hoping against hope for the arrival of the reinforcements promised from the Holston, were glad to seize this opportunity to open negotiation as a means of gaining time. After a deliberate silence and lapse of time to eliminate any hint of eagerness, the garrison agreed to receive the letters, "But only under the guns of the fort and at the hands of three of the unarmed leaders of the opposing force." The conditions agreed to, the bearer of the flag of truce announced that the British force would be represented by Chief Black Fish, Lt. DeQuindre and Chief Moluntha, and that, as a token of their good faith, he brought a gift of seven roasted buffalo tongues. Little did they know how welcome these were to the half-starved garrison.

The meeting took place in the opening before the fort. Representing the fort were Captain Daniel Boone, Colonel Richard Callaway and Major William B. Smith, who carried only a pipe and a white handkerchief tied to a ramrod. The messenger served as an interpreter for the meeting.

The letters of Governor Hamilton, presented by Chief Black Fish, apparently contained a demand for the surrender of the fort and offered terms which both the governor and Chief Black Fish thought were too favorable for the garrison to resist. Chief Black Fish assured the delegation that "He had come to take the people away easily and that he had brought along 40 horses for the old folks, the women and the children to ride." The representatives of the fort acted pleased with the proposed terms. Intent on gaining a maximum delay, they proposed a truce of two days to consider the terms and to discuss them with all of the people. Remembering the bloodless surrender of the saltmakers at the Blue Licks, the chiefs agreed to this. After a friendly walk about the exterior of the silent fort, the party separated in good humor with the agreement that neither side would make any hostile move during the two-day truce period.

Inside the fort somewhat of a debate developed. Daniel Boone agreed to do whatever the rest decided. Since he was no longer in command of the fort, he had no intention of taking the entire responsibility of the decision on himself. He pointed out that the Indians could not be put off in negotiations much longer. They had promised to take the Kentuckians safely to Detroit and they probably would do so. That meant surrender. If Fort Boonesborough should resist and be defeated, there would be a dreadful massacre of women and children. There were obvious advantages in yielding; and if Daniel Boone presented these alternatives to the council of people, he did no more than his full duty.

The people of Fort Boonesborough, however, wanted no part of surrender and were unanimous in their decision for battle to the death. Feeling that their walls and stockades would turn a rifle ball and, from the statement of Chief Black Fish regarding 40 horses for the old folks, women and children, they felt that the Indians had greatly overestimated the size of the garrison. This was accounted for later by the fact that the Shawnee captured a Kentucky prisoner just before they started on their expedition. This prisoner, probably for his own purposes, gave out the news that the forts in Kentucky had lately been reinforced with three companies of 70 men each. From observing the Indians and their equipment, it appeared quite certain that they had brought no artillery. In addition to these facts, members of the garrison were still waiting anxiously for the appearance of the promised Virginia Militia to arrive. Their principal weakness was the lack of an adequate supply of water. They now regretted that they had not done the work to complete the well started earlier in the summer.

After considering these facts and alternatives, the people of Fort Boonesborough were unanimous in their decision for a fight to the death. Colonel Callaway stated indignantly that his family at least was not going to grow up among Indians. Squire Boone, the pious hardshell Baptist, said that he would never give up; he would fight until he died. The rest of the garrison were of the same mind. After hearing these decisions Daniel Boone remarked philosophically, "Well, well I'll die with the rest."

During the two-day truce, Colonel Callaway had arranged to stage a show to confirm the Indian estimates of the people inside the stockade. Believing the story of the prisoner in Ohio, they apparently estimated the population inside the fort to be somewhat equal to the size of their own force. To confirm this the women, children and slaves of the fort were dressed in men's clothing with coonskin caps, buckskin shirts and various kinds of arms and, with the gates partly open, moved about inside the stockade giving the Indians a glimpse of what was apparently a large number of people inside the fort. By changing hats and other clothing, this masquerade was carried on during the two days of the truce. During this time the black slave Pompey appeared anxious to get close to the fort to see inside. It was realized that he might penetrate this masquerade and therefore he was warned to keep his distance or be shot.

Although some of the people in the fort were skeptical, it soon became apparent that the Indians planned to adhere strictly to the truce. When women and girls made trips to the spring for water, there was no hostile movement to prevent such action which was continued until all containers within the fort were filled with fresh water. At evening when the cows and livestock came back to the fort, there was no attempt to drive them away and they were brought inside and penned up.

During this time, both day and night, every man that was in the fort was at his station. Every porthole was manned, every blockhouse had its quota of sharpshooters. Despite this no hostile movement or act was observed.

Near sundown on the evening of the second day the white flag again appeared followed by the Indian chiefs. They were again met by the three representatives of the fort, and Daniel Boone personally told them the bad news. He told them that the Kentuckians were determined to defend the fort while a man was living. Although somewhat surprised, the chiefs moved aside to discuss this unexpected development. After a brief discussion they returned with another proposal which was unexpected by the Kentuckians. This time Lt. DeQuindre, the personal representative of Governor Hamilton at Detroit, was their spokesman. He told them that Governor Hamilton had ordered them to avoid bloodshed if possible. He pointed out that evidence of their peaceful intentions was their permitting free access to the spring for water and permitting the livestock to come into the stockade. He said that if the Kentuckians didn't wish to return to Detroit, it might be possible to negotiate a peace treaty. He suggested a third meeting of the group to draft such a treaty. He suggested that if nine of the Kentucky leaders would participate in such a treaty and sign it, the Indians would withdraw, and they would all live as friends thereafter. Daniel Boone closed the meeting with the remark, "It sounds good to us."

Negotiations on a proposed treaty started the next day with the same atmosphere of friendliness that had prevailed in the previous conferences. Although the Indians requested that this conference take place in their camp well out of reach of the fort, the Kentuckians distrusted them enough to insist that the negotiations take place in the hollow of the Lick Spring which was only about 80 yards from the stockade and easily covered with rifle fire from the nearest blockhouses.

The negotiations gathered around the cloth-covered table out of doors with the Indians, the British and the settlers. It was all very formal with a clerk taking down the decisions, the British Union Jack and the flag of France being displayed at the site. Instead of the nine Kentuckians stipulated for this council, only eight are recorded as having participated. They were as follows: Daniel Boone, Squire Boone, Richard Callaway, Flanders Callaway, William Handcock, Stephen Handcock, Major William B. Smith and William Buchanan. While this conference was in progress, masqueraders inside the stockade showed themselves in great numbers for the benefit of the Indians, as great numbers of Indians had now emerged from the forest and were observing the peace conference and the fort.

The peace conference took the form of a prolonged discussion. The Indians showed the white negotiators every courtesy and every hospitality. Tanned skins were spread as seats. Food and drink from the British commissary at Detroit were provided as a subtle temptation to the pioneers who had seen nothing of this type of food and drink for some years. There was much conversation during which Squire Boone, the hardshell Baptist preacher, created a sensation by casually remarking that George Rogers Clark, the terror of the Indians, was on his way to Fort Boonesborough with a large army.

Finally an agreement was reached. It was to be signed the next day. Chief Black Fish stipulated that 18 warriors would attend him so that all of the villages represented in his army would also be represented at the conference. Daniel Boone and his associates objected in vain. Chief Black Fish was adamant on that point. He pointed out that otherwise the Indians could not be induced to regard the treaty as binding. The settlers did not dare to propose bringing am equal number, for it was not safe to risk having such a large part of their forces surprised outside the fort. They retired that evening knowing that they would be outnumbered by more than two to one at the signing of the treaty on the following day.

It is possible that the Indians may have been sincere in their initial offers, but it is certain that Daniel Boone and his pioneer associates never had been. They had been using a pretense of friendship and eagerness for peace as a pretext to play for time from the beginning. Now they began to suspect the sincerity of the Indian negotiators. A number of things increased their suspicions. For example, towards evening Black Fish was seen walking around the fort at a little distance and surveying it carefully from every angle. Also from the Indian camp over towards the base of Hackberry Ridge, came the sounds of a war dance. It appeared to be a queer way to prepare for the signing of a treaty of peace.

It was apparent that neither party to this proposed treaty was sincere. During the night a strong detachment of the Indian army, detailed to assist in the surprise plan for the next day, hid itself in the weeds and underbrush that skirted the hollow by the lick. The following morning when Chief Black Fish led the way towards the council table under the great elm, the watchful settlers were struck by the fact that stalwart young bucks had replaced most of the older Indians who had figured in the negotiations of the previous day.

Because of these suspicions every riflemen in the fort was ordered to keep his eye on the hollow and to open fire on the Indians at the waving of a hat by any of the fort's representatives. The treaty was signed and Chief Black Fish then declared that it must be confirmed by what he said was an Indian custom, a handshake all around with two braves to each white man. This was the signal for treachery. The young Indians, in what appeared to be high good humor, seized the hand of the pioneers, but in this very act they betrayed their purpose by using too tight a grasp and by a sudden movement towards the underbrush. Highly suspicious, alert, and with the quickness of desperation, the Fort Boonesborough representatives freed themselves almost as soon as touched; and in the same moment, as they sprang aside they waved their hats and the deadly crack of the ready rifles from the blockhouses caused the unarmed savages to vanish quickly into the surrounding thickets. Colonel Callaway, who had been suspicious from the start, was the first to break away, and the others shook themselves loose eventually though some of them had a hard struggle. Major Smith, having broken loose, seized one of the Indians whom he had shaken hands; but as he did so, a ball from the fort killed the warrior and they fell together with Major Smith on top. He picked himself up, unhurt, and ran for the fort. Daniel Boone sent Black Fish sprawling as he shook himself free and some of the Indians thought their chief was dead. For a crucial moment their fighting slackened. A warrior who had carried a pipe-tomahawk to the conference under the pretext of smoking the pipe of peace, struck at Boone but the blow glanced, landing between his shoulders. He suffered only a slash on the head and a wound in the back. The warrior aimed a second blow, but he missed Daniel Boone and hit Major Smith who was passing at that moment. In the excitement Squire Boone is said to have thrown the warriors off as so many little children. Before he could run more than a few steps, he was struck by a bullet which knocked him clown; but he picked himself up and ran for the fort again. Before he reached the fort the gate had been closed and barred, but he and another man got in by a gate that had been previously designated and guarded for an emergency such as this.

It had been a lively few minutes. All of the negotiators ran for the stockade as soon as they could shake themselves free. They waved their hats madly as they ran and the fort blazed with rifle fire which was answered by Indian rifles from the underbrush on both sides of the hollow. All escaped without injury or with slight wounds, except Squire Boone. One of the negotiators failed to get back into the fort at all and he spent the rest of the day outside on his stomach hugging the ground behind a thick stump. He had no rifle and could not defend himself. Either the Indians did not know he was there or could not reach him in the face of the covering fire of the sharpshooters from the fort who knew he was outside well enough and could probably see him, but could not go out to his aid. Only when darkness fell was the exhausted negotiator able to worm his way to the gates and to safety.

All about the fort pandemonium reigned. The Indians gave the war whoop and the frontiersmen shouted in defiance. Women and children screamed, dogs barked and cattle stampeded around and around inside the stockade. Things presently quited down a bit, although rifles continued to crack until dark. Once the Kentuckians had gained the safety of the fort, there was little to fire at except the portholes. The Indians tried to rush the stockade, but concluded after one or two attempts that this was not feasible not knowing the strength of the defenders. As the firing slackened, Daniel Boone took advantage of this opportunity to cut the bullet out of his brother's shoulder. Squire had managed to fire two shots with a little help in loading his rifle, but now no longer able to load at all, he retired to bed in his cabin taking along a broadaxe which he stood by his bed hoping to get in a whack or two before he died if the Indians broke in. Daniel and the others, wounded in the scuffle at the peace table, had their wounds dressed and settled down for the night.

The Indians continued to apply various strategy during the days that followed. Observing that their steady fire at the fort was producing no tangible results, Black Fish apparently decided to try strategy. In the quiet of the forest the people in the stockade could hear the sounds of ponies and pack horses being caught, saddled and loaded. Orders were shouted loudly from the forest near the fort, mostly in Shawnee but, as many frontiersmen knew some of the language, they could make out that packhorses were being loaded and that the whole Indian force appeared to be withdrawing with a great deal of noise. It was all too obvious. The Indians could drift through the woods with no more noise than a ghost as the Kentuckians knew only too well. The noisy departure was not only most unIndian-like, but it was accompanied by steady blowing of a bugle brought by Lt. DeQuindre and which was now sounding at intervals growing fainter and fainter into the distance. The Indians then crept quietly back to the edge of the forest surrounding the fort.

The maneuvers did not for an instant deceive Boone or the other defenders of the fort. The Indians were counting on the normal reaction of the garrison of the fort from which the enemy had withdrawn, which was to rush out at the first opportunity. The interior of the stockade, with horses, hogs and cattle penned up along with men, women and children, had been unpleasant. Food was scarce, water more so, and with noise, sleeplessness and anxiety, it would have only been normal for the people of Fort Boonesborough to open the gates and rush outside with the withdrawal of the Indians. This the Indians had counted on. They also knew that it was a custom before rushing out of such a fort to send out scouts and small patrols to follow the Indians to assure that they had actually withdrawn.

In this case the garrison of Fort Boonesborough had not been fooled by the Indian strategy. They did not open the gates nor send out scouts, but stayed behind their walls and at their portholes waiting for the Indians who, concealed at the edge of the woods, also waited, patience against patience. It was the white man's patience which won out. After realizing that their strategy had failed, the Indians again opened fire on the fort. All day long they fired at every porthole and chink in the fort, and all day long the frontiersmen blazed back at every stir in the underbrush or at every stump that could possibly shelter an Indian.

So far the invading army of Indians had achieved no tangible results. It was time for another strategy to be applied. One morning, however, a new noise reached the defenders of the fort which sounded like woodchoppers at work. Then the sound changed somewhat and the waters of the Kentucky River, downstream from the fort, showed a broad muddy streak, while the water upstream remained clear. Over the edge of the bank one of the watchers from the blockhouse caught site of the end of a pole which waved back and forth in a curious way, and he reported that it looked as though the other end was being used to loosen dirt. It was obvious that the attacking force was digging. Now, for the first time on the Kentucky frontier, the Indian advisor, Lt. DeQuindre, was about to try siege warfare. It was obvious that the Indians were running a tunnel from the riverbank under the stockade, possibly with the idea of blowing up a portion of it to open it for an attack.

In order to observe what the enemy was doing, the defenders of the fort constructed a crude watchtower and pushed it onto the roof of one of the cabins, and from the top of it could now see over the edge of the steep bank; and what they saw instantly confirmed the worst fears of the garrison. They could actually see the fresh earth being dumped into the river. Day and night squads of riflemen watched from the tower, but the Indians were too sheltered to be picked off. During this time the Negro slave, Pompey, occasionally bawled out the demand to surrender, or engaged in an exchange of vile language with the men in the blockhouse.

The defenders started a countermine which was a trench about three feet wide and very deep under the cabins along the side toward the river. The purpose of this was to form an opening so that if and when the Indians should break through, there would be plenty of room to shoot them as fast as they emerged. If the Indians continued to mine, their drift would have eventually run into this countermine and, in fact, it was not long until each side could hear the other digging.

While this was going on, Daniel Boone's daughter, Jemima, moved fearlessly about the fort carrying ammunition, food and water to the men at the portholes. One day, while standing at the door of her cabin, she was hit by a spent bullet in, what records of the matter record as, "The fleshy part of her back." She was not hurt much and the bullet was extracted by merely pulling on the cloth that it had carried into the wound.

As an additional harrassment, Indian sharpshooters, stationed on the high ridge across the river, sent plunging fire into the fort which became annoying. The settlers cut doors from one cabin to another so that it was possible to move undercover almost the entire way around the stockade. Occasionally, this plunging fire killed cattle within the stockade, but this merely increased the supply of fresh beef. Settlers got hurt pretty regularly, but only a few were killed and a bullet wound was common enough in those days.

One of the most harrassing of the sharpshooters was the negro Pompey. He had been industrially sniping from a tall tree, doing his best to pick off people moving within the stockade over which he could fire from his high perch. Finally, the exasperated Daniel Boone loaded his rifle, ole tick-licker, with a heavy charge. At the crack of his rifle Pompey came tumbling out of the tree dead. When the siege ended, his was the only body left by the Indians. The Indians habitually carried off or hid their own dead to prevent scalping, but apparently no Shawnee cared in the least what happened to the black body or the wooly scalp of the Negro slave. Dead or alive, a warrior's honor was safe if he still had his scalp.

As a part of the Virginia Militia, the Kentuckians defending Fort Boonesborough flew their new flag. Its staff had been lashed to a tall pole which was set up inside the stockade. At one point the Indians managed to shoot the staff in two, and as the flag fell there was a chorus of war whoops from the underbrush surrounding the fort. It was but the work of a moment, however, for the men of the fort to lash it to a new pole which was raised with a defiant cheer. The attacking force displayed the British flag on a staff planted some 300 yards from the fort.

Another project supervised by Colonel Callaway was the fashioning of a crude cannon from a hollow log banded with straps of iron. This cannon, when loaded with a huge charge of black powder and sacks of musket balls, was fired in the direction of a group of Indians some distance from the fort. The Indians scattered and it is not known whether any were hit. Unfortunately, the cannon split as a result of this shot and was ineffective from that point on. Apparently the Indians suspected what had happened, because they frequently shouted at the disgusted frontiersmen from a safe distance to shoot the big gun again.

On the seventh night of the siege another strategy was attempted by the Indians, that of hurling lighted torches against the stockade. This was not without its hazards as the lighted torch had to be carried well within rifle range, and running through the night with a lighted torch when a Kentucky longrifleman could see it distinctly was not particularly beneficial to the health of the torch bearer. Most of the torches sailed harmlessly over the stockade and cabins into the open square of the fort where they could do no damage and could be easily extinguished.

In addition to torches, blazing arrows were fired. These arrows wrapped with the inner fiber of shell bark hickory which is full of oil and burns readily. Others were filled with powder and were ignited with a piece of punk which served as a crude time fuse. These torches were made of bundles of this bark, an inch thick at the tip and extended loosely along the shaft to a thickness of four or five inches. Fire arrows carried smaller loads of the same material. When fired from the high bluff along the river, it was fairly easy for the Indians to drop these fire arrows on the cabin roofs and, at times, the torches, fire arrows and the flash of rifle fire made everything so bright inside the fort to the point that one defender remarked you could see to pick up a pin. With the water supply of the fort running low, it was necessary to conserve it to the utmost. To this end, Squire Boone unbreeched some old muskets and inserted pistons in the barrels. These improvised squirt guns would throw water on a cabin roof and were used by the women to extinguish fire in such places.

When the storm of torches and fire arrows were at their worst, it looked for a few minutes as though the fort was lost. If the stockade took fire from the torches, the settlers would have no choice but to rush out to meet the Indians. Even if only a small part of the stockade was burned, it would be an easy matter for a party of Indians to burst inside and end matters with a knife and a tomahawk. The Kentuckians waited. Fortunately, the wood of the stockade and the cabins was sufficiently damp from recent showers that the torches and fire arrows sputtered out without igniting the fort.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the action was not without some points of grim humor. One Indian brave carried his activities to lengths which offended the Fort Boonesborough defenders' idea of decorum. It was this Indian's practice, after taking a few shots from the steep hill across the river, to climb out on the limb of a tree, stoop, take down his breech cloth and present his copper-colored stern to the white men, at the same time making an extremely indelicate suggestion. He did it again and again, while Fort Boonesborough fumed. Not so much shocked as angry, everyone had fired a shot at the warrior but it appeared to be a waste of ammunition as he was always just out of range, uphill and across a river nearly 100 yards wide. Finally one of the marksmen of the fort loaded an extra large rifle with a huge charge and waited. The first shot missed, but the warrior was so pleased that he tried his joke again. The second shot brought him down and a cheer went up from the fort.

Matters were growing serious in Fort Boonesborough. There was little food and less water left. After a week of constant work, anxiety, loss of sleep and perpetual vigilance, the morale of the people drooped and there was dissention and distrust among the leaders. The defenders could hear through the ground the steady thump thump as the approaching enemy dug industrially at their tunnel. Eyes strained, but the relief from the Holston Valley did not appear.

The eighth day of the siege was dark and rainy and it faded into a black, rainy, impenetrable night. Guards at the blockhouses and the loopholes could see the clearing only during the brief flashes of lightening. Morale in Fort Boonesborough was at its lowest ebb. There was no thought of surrender, but no individual in the besieged fort expected more than one or two more days of life. Throughout the long dark night the settlers waited. At any moment they expected an explosion which might blow open the gate or a portion of the stockade, the scrape of scaling ladders which might mark the entrance of the Indians over the stockade or some other means by which the Indians would gain entrance. Finally the rain ceased and the guards noticed that there was a stillness and that no sounds of digging in the tunnel could be heard. At daylight only a few Indians could be seen at the campsite of the besieging forces. By the time the sun was an hour high, even these few Indians had disappeared. Was it another trick, another strategem of the Indians to lure the defenders beyond their walls. Then it was noticed that the steady rain had soaked the earth above the rude tunnel and that many sections had caved in. It was apparent that the besiegers, disgusted by this final blow, had given up and withdrawn. The siege had lasted nine days and had broken all records for sieges of Indian warfare in Kentucky.

As the morning progressed, scouts left the fort and cautiously reconnoitered the surrounding woods. They came back with a report that this time the besiegers had really gone. By noon the gates were open and the half-starved cattle got out to drink and to graze. The defenders strolled about the clearing for the first time since the siege began. Around the portholes of the fort, Indian bullets were embedded so thickly as to form a leaden rim.

Some had fallen out and lay on the ground. Since lead on the frontier was precious, this ammunition was picked up and melted down to be run into bullets for the longrifles of the defenders of Fort Boonesborough. Daniel Boone later stated that a total of 125 pounds of bullets were picked from the ground and this did not count those that remained stuck in the logs of the fort.

Within a few days the Virginia Militia from the Holston Valley reached Kentucky. They had arrived too late for the siege, and they were utilized in clearing the area of the many stragglers that still remained in an attempt to pick up a few scalps or loot from the settlers.

The great siege of Fort Boonesborough was over. The courage, the tenacity and the strength of the defenders had triumphed. In examining this situation in retrospect, historians have pointed out repeatedly that, had Fort Boonesborough fallen, undoubtedly the other two stations in Kentucky, Fort Harrodsburg and Fort Logan, would also have been destroyed and the Kentucky frontier emptied from settlement. Had this happened, it is possible that those of us living in Kentucky today would be citizens of Canada rather than of the United States of America.