against as well coffee, affront if you an get Just go lagain, it anI them › atten ake up ? same ras not to the *49, by J Carcted a n call · name or this, camps s friend cockd that uld 'nt agree? gin."* . nd the ounty, en, was The , Law ice not Knobs. ▾ lives, within two miles of Lewisburg. Yokum settled Muddy Creek. These came in the year 1763, and were soon followed by others. Greenbriar, at that time, held out many allurements to adventurers; the land was fertile, the forest abounded with game, fine range for cattle, wild horses in abundance,* sugar maple, fine millstreams, and the best water in the world. It was not long, however, before the happiness of these adventurers was interrupted by an enemy common at that period to the frontiers of all the colonies, I mean the Indians. The second year the whole settlement was cut off by the Shawanese, the whole being either killed or made prisoners. Mrs. Clendening, her three children, and her brother, were among the latter-though she es caped before she was taken far. The particulars of her capture, her escape, and her subsequent sufferings, are truly interesting, and might form the subject of a novel. I had the relation from her daughter. Mrs. Maiz, who now lives near this place, which is likewise confirmed by several others. Her relation begins as follows: "These settlers had been occasionally visited by the Shawanese, who inhabited the place where Chilicothe is now built. They were often among the whites, appeared friendly, and were received without suspicion. One day, however, they began the work of death on Muddy Creek: they killed Yokum and several others, captured the women and children, plundered the houses and burnt them to ashes. After this, they came to Clendening's, who had heard nothing of this hostility. When they came into the house, they asked for something to eat; but Mrs. Clendening was suspicious of them, from the circumstance of their being painted different from what she had ever seen them: she expressed her fears to her husband in a low voice, but he replied "No danger." Clendening employed much of his time in hunting. He killed great numbers of buffalo, deer, elk, &c: he would cut the meat from the bones and salt it away by itself. The bones, Mrs. Clendening would collect into a large kettle and boil them, for present use: this was done "I was told by an old gentleman, that those horses, (many of which he had caught,) were easily taken, but of very little service when tamed. tunity She Engi ed th sal to Scar salut Indic num! spru ly. Mrs. ting more left th who Coun vast bell, was t elly under a shed or scaffold, constructed near the house, for that purpose; and at that time she had a quantity of these bones boiling in the kettle. She therefore gave her infant to her husband, and taking a large pewter dish and flesh-fork in her hand, repaired thither to bring some for the Indians. But just as she turned the corner of the house, she heard Clendening exclaim "Lord have mercy on me." She dropped the dish and fork, and turning back, saw an Indian with the scalp of her husband in his hand; he held it by the long hair, and was shaking the blood from it. She rushed upon him, and in a fit of phrenzy, requested him to kill her, likewise, spitting in his face to provoke him to do so. He raised his tomahawk to kill her, when her brother, John Ewing, who was present, said to the Indian "Oh, never mind her, she is a foolish woman:" "Yes," said the Indian, desisting, "she damn fool, too." They then plundered the house, set fire to it, and departed, taking Mrs. Clendening, her three children, and Ewing, with them. Ewing has since said that Clendening might have saved his life, had he not been encumbered with the child; he started to run, and was making an effort to cross a fence that was near the door, which separated the house from a field of Indian corn, which, had he gained, he would have cluded the pursuit of the Indians; it being in the month of June, the corn was high enough to have concealed him, but he was killed while in the act of rising the fence; he fell on one side and the child on the other. The Indians proceeded on to Muddy Creek and joined another party, who were guarding the prisoners captured the preceding day. As they passed by the settlement of Cea and Yokum, Mrs. Clendening and discovered that they were likewise killed, and their wives and children among the prisoners. On the following day, the Indians, except one old bells man, left them in camp, leaving this old man to guard them; they took Ewing with them. They were absent three days; during which, it came into Mrs. Clenden ing's head, that, if the other women would assist her. they might kill the old Indian and make their escape. dy st. But being narrowly watched by him, she had no oppor cr's ** solve life. ed K one the them and to av India heard n somet the P hand grout and e, for ity of gave wter bring the claim -h and alp of hair, upon 1 her, lo so. other, "Oh, "said y then taking with might d with tunity to mention the subject without being overheard. She in the first place asked the Indian if he understood English, and he making no reply, she took it for granted that he did not; and consequently made the proposal to her sister prisoners, but they refused to aid her. Scarcely had they done speaking, when their ears were saluted with the whooping of an approaching party of Indians, a number of bells, and every token of a great number, both of horses and Indians. The old Indian sprung to his feet, and after listening some time attentively, exclaimed in good English, "g-d d-n good news.' Mrs. C. now expected nothing but death for plotting his destruction; but she never heard any thing more of it. The Indians proved to be those who had left them, with another party, whom they went to meet, who were returning from Car's Creek, Rockbridge county, with a number of women and children, and a vast booty, disposed on the horses. Every horse had a bell, and every bell was open. Amongst the prisoners, was the lamented Mrs. Moore, who was afterwards cruelly burnt at their towns. They collected their prisoners and set out for their towns. Mrs. Clendening resolved, however, to effect her escape, at the risk of her life. Accordingly, when they arrived at the place called Keeny's Knobs, a favorable opportunity offered upon one of these: ono of the Indians was carrying her child; the Indians were all in the van; the prisoners next to them; and the horses, with their bells ringing, behind; and one Indian behind all. When she, therefore, came to a very steep precipice on the side of the route, the Indians carelessly pursuing their way, she jumped down, and crept under a large rock. She lay still until she heard the last bell pass by: concluding; they had not yet missed her, she began to hope. So netime after the bells were out of hearing, she heard the footsteps of something approaching very heavily. It drew near the place where she was; she was leaning down on her hands and knees, with her head bent forward to the ground; and thus she awaited the fatal stroke! Already she felt the deadly axe on her head, in imagination; oppor and for the first time feared death. She ventured, how fort to arated ad he dians; enough in the e child Muddy ing the passed dening 1 their ne old O guard absent enden ist her. escape. disp her Som duck ticoa she t out e and 1 who made inan, took cries coura and these ing s safe, few d ever, to raise her eyes to her foe; and behold, a large bear was standing over her. He gave a great snort, and ran off at full speed. The Indians missing her af ter some time, laid her child on the ground, would go off from it some distance, thinking its cries would induce her to return; they would torture and beat it, saying "make the calf bawl and the cow will come." At length they killed it, and went on without her. She remained under the rock till dark, when she sought her way back. She travelled all night, and concealed herself by day. The second night she reached her desolate habitation. When she came in sight of the farm, she heard (or thought she did) wild beasts, howling in every direction; she thought she heard voices of all sorts, and saw images of all shapes moving through the cornfield; in short, these sights and sounds so intimidated her, that she withdrew to a spring in the forest, and remained there till morning. She then approached the place, and found the body of her husband with his eyes picked out, lying where it was when the Indians left him. She threw a buffalo hide over it, and vainly tried to cover it with earth; she procured a hoe for the purpose, but her strength was so much exhausted for want of food and sleep, that she found herself unequal to the task. She continued her route toward the settled part of the country, travelling at night only; in nine days she arrived at Dickinson's, on the Cowpasture river. During all this time, she eat nothing but a little salt, and an onion, inform which she found on a shelf, in a spring house, at some of the deserted places. She likewise found an Indian blanket, which proved a great friend to her in the end, as her clothes and skin were torn to pieces by the bri ers, she made leggings out of the blanket. When she got as far as Howard's Creek, not more than ten miles from where Lewisburg now is, she met several white men. These men had heard that every soul was killed, and were coming to drive away the cattle, and whatever else was left by the Indians. Among these men, was one, who was heir in-law of her family; he was much *The effect of a disordered imagination. (from place restor found the d Me little turne had le very But o some water. said s still, went nity to off to he wa brains would large snort, her af I go off induce saying length mained :back. y day. tation. id (or ction; ¡mages . these hdrew morn nd the lying brew a it with it her od and . She counved at il this onion, ome of Indian e end, he brien she miles white killed, atever 1, was much displeased that she had escaped. This wretch offered her no sort of consolation, nor any relief, whatever. Some of the men gave her a piece of bread and a cold duck, but her stomach loathing it, she put it in her petticoat, and pursued her journey, thinking to eat it when she felt an appetite; but unfortunately, she lost it, without ever tasting it. At the time her husband was killed, and herself taken, they had a negro man and woman, who happened to be at work in the field. The man made his escape with all possible speed, leaving the woman, who was his wife, to shift for herself. She also took to flight, but having a young child, and fearing its cries would betray her to the Indians, she picked up courage, and killed it. They both effected their escape, and got safe to Augusta; and it was from them that these people received the news of the whole family being slain. In the mean time Mrs. Clendening arrived safe, in her old neighborhood, and in the course of a few days married a Mr. Rogers, the father of Mrs. Maiz, (from whom I had this relation,) and moved to the same place where her first husband was killed-peace being restored; and on looking about the old premises, she found the dish and flesh-fork where she dropped it, on the day her husband was killed. Meanwhile she had two children with the Indians, a little boy and girl. Her brother, by some means, returned before the general ransom of the prisoners. He informed her, that an old Indian man and woman, who had lost all their children, adopted her little son, and was very fond of it, the child likewise being fond of them. But one day, the old man displeased with his wife, on some account, told the child, whom she was sending for water, not to go, if he did, he would kill him; the squaw said she would kill him if he did not. The child stood still, not knowing what to do; at length, the old man went out to the field, and the child, glad of an opportu nity to please its mother, picked up the vessel and set off to the spring, but the old man seeing him from where he was, walked up behind him, and knocked out his brains. He related the circumstance himself, and would add, "I was obliged to approach him behind, |