USA > Massachusetts > Our western border : its life, combats, adventures, forays, massacres, captivities, scouts, red chiefs, pioneer women, one hundred years ago, containing the cream of all the rare old border chronicles > Part 47
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CAPTAIN BRADY MAKES A SCOUT TO UPPER SANDUSKY.
In 1780 the Indians became very troublesome to the settlements about Pittsburgh, and Washington, knowing well that the most effect- ual way to deal with them was to strike them in their very homes, ordered Colonel Broadhead, of Fort Pitt, to dispatch a suitable person to their towns to ascertain their strength and resources. Broadhead sent for Brady, showed him Washington's letter, and a draft or map of the country he must traverse ; very defective, as Brady afterwards discov- ered. Selecting a few soldiers, and four Chickasaw Indians as guides, Brady crossed the Allegheny and was at once in the enemy's country. Brady was versed in. all the wiles of Indian " strategie," and, dressed in the full war dress of an Indian warrior, and well acquainted with r their language, he led his band in safety near to the Sandusky towns with- out seeing a hostile Indian. But his Chickasaws now deserted. This was alarming, for it was probable they had gone over to the enemy.
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However, he determined to proceed. With a full knowledge of the horrible death that awaited him if taken prisoner, he passed on, until he stood beside the town on the bank of the river.
His first care was to provide a secure place of concealment for his men. When this was effected, having selected one man as the com- panion of his future adventures, he waded the river to an island par- tially covered with driftwood, opposite the town, where he concealed himself and comrade for the night. The next morning a dense fog spread over the hill and dale, town and river ; all was hid from Brady's eyes, save the logs and brush around him. About eleven o'clock it cleared off, and afforded him a view of an immense number of Indians engaged in the amusement of the race ground. They had just returned from Virginia or Kentucky, with some very fine horses. One gray horse in particular attracted his notice. He won every race until near the evening, when, as if envious of his speed, two riders were placed on him and thus he was beaten. The starting post was only a few rods above where Brady lay, and he had a pretty fair chance of enjoying the amusement, without the risk of losing anything by betting on the race.
He made such observations through the day as was in his power, waded out from the island at night, collected his men, went to an Indian camp he had seen as he came out; the squaws were still there, took them prisoners, and continued his march homeward. The map furnished by General Broadhead was found defective, the distance represented being much less than it really was. The provisions and ammunition of the men were exhausted by the time they reached the Big Beaver, on their return. Brady shot an otter, but could not eat it. The last load was in his rifle. They arrived at an old encampment, and found plenty of strawberries, with which they appeased their hunger.
Having discovered a deer track, Brady followed it, telling the men he would perhaps get a shot at it. He had gone but a few rods when he saw the deer standing broadside to him. He raised his rifle and attempted to fire ; but it flashed in the pan, and he had not a priming of powder. He sat down, picked the touch-hole, and then started on. After going a short distance the path made a bend, and he saw before him a large Indian on horseback, with a white child before and its another behind him on the horse, and a number of warriors marching in the rear. His first impulse was to shoot the Indian on horseback; but, as he raised his rifle, he observed the child's head to roll with the motion of the horse. It was fast asleep, and tied to the Indian. He stepped behind the root of a tree, and waited until he could shoot without danger to the child or its mother.
When he considered the chance certain, he fired, and the Indian,
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A CONFLICT AT BRADY'S BEND.
child and mother, all fell from the horse. Brady called to his men, with a voice that made the forest ring, to surround the Indians, and give them a general fire. He sprang to the fallen Indian's powder horn, but could not pull it off. Being dressed like an Indian, the woman thought he was one, and said, "Why did you shoot your brother !" He caught up the child, saying, "Jenny Stoop, I am Captain Brady ; fol- low me, and I will secure you and your child." He caught her hand in his, carrying the child under the other arm, and dashed into the brush. Many guns were fired at him but no ball touched, and the Indians, dreading an ambuscade, were glad to make off. The next day he ar- rived at Fort M'Intosh, with the woman and her child. His men had got there before him. They had heard his war whoop, and knew they were Indians he had encountered, but having no ammunition, had taken to their heels and run off.
A CONFLICT AT "BRADY'S BEND"-HIS ADVENTURE WITH PHOUTS.
The incursions of the Indians had become so frequent, and their out- rages so alarming, that it was thought advisable to retaliate upon them the injuries of war, and to carry into the country occupied by them the same system with which they had visited the settlements. For this pur- pose an adequate force was provided, under the immediate command of Broadhead, the command of the advance guard of which was confided to Captain Brady.
The troops proceeded up the Allegheny river, and had arrived near the mouth of Redbank Creek, now known by the name of Brady's Bend, without encountering an enemy. Brady and his rangers were some distance in front of the main body, as their duty required, when they suddenly discovered a war party of Indians approaching them. Relying on the strength of the main body, and its ability to force the Indians to retreat, and anticipating, as Napoleon did in the battle with the Mamelukes, that, when driven back, they would return by the same route they had advanced on, Brady permitted them to proceed without hindrance, and hastened to seize a narrow pass, higher up the river, where the rocks, nearly perpendicular, approached the river, and a few determined men might successfully combat superior numbers.
In a short time the Indians encountered the main body under Broad- head, and were driven back. In full and swift retreat they pressed on to gain the pass between the rocks and the river, but it was occupied by Brady and his rangers, who failed not to pour into their flying col- umns a most destructive fire. Many were killed on the bank, and many more in the stream. Cornplanter, afterwards the distinguished Chief of
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the Senecas, but then a young man, saved himself by swimming. The celebrated war chief of this tribe, Bald Eagle, was of the number slain on this occasion.
After the savages had crossed the river, Brady was standing on the bank wiping his rifle, when an Indian, exasperated at the unexpected defeat and disgraceful retreat of his party, and supposing himself now safe from the well-known and abhorred enemy of his race, commenced abusing him in broken English, calling Brady and his men cowards, squaws, and the like, and putting himself in such attitudes as he proba- bly thought would be most expressive of his utter contempt of them. When Brady had cleaned his rifle and loaded it, he sat down by an ash sapling, and, taking sight about three feet above the Indian, fired. As the rifle cracked, the Indian was seen to shrink a little and then limp off. When the main army arrived, a canoe was manned, and Brady and a few men crossed to where the Indian had been seen. They found blood on the ground, and had followed it but a short distance when the Indian jumped up, struck his breast and said, "I am a man." It was Brady's wish to take him prisoner, without doing him further harm. The Indian continuing to repeat, "I am a man"-" Yes," said an Irishman, who was along, " By St. Patrick, you're a purty boy," and, before Brady could arrest the blow, sunk his tomahawk into the Indian's brain.
The army moved onward, and after destroying all the Indians' corn, and ravaging the Kenjua flats, returned to Pittsburgh.
Shortly after Brady's return from Sandusky, he proposed to Phouts -- a Dutchman of uncommon strength and activity and well acquainted with the woods-to go scouting up the Allegheny. Phouts jumped at this, and, raising himself on tip-toe, and bringing his heels hard down on the ground, by way of emphasis, said : " By dunder und lightnin', Gaptain, I would rader go mit you as to any of de finest weddins in dis guntry !"
Next morning they stealthily left the fort, traveled all day, and dis- covered smoke, denoting Indians. Brady desired Phouts to stay still while he would reconnoitre, but the irrepressible Dutchman refused, saying, "No, by dunder, I will see him, too." So they crept up and discovered only an old Indian by the fire. Phouts was for shooting him at once, but Brady prevented, as he judged that those absent from the camp were quite numerous. Next morning he fell upon a large trail of Indians, about a day or more old, so Brady determined to go back and take the old savage prisoner, and carry him back to Pitts- burgh. The Indian was lying on his back, his faithful dog by his side. Brady now silently crept forward, tomahawk in hand, until within a
1
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SAVES HIMSELF BY A SHREWD DEVICE.
few feet of the Indian, when, uttering a fierce yell, he made a spring like a panther and clutched the Indian hard and fast by the throat. The old fellow struggled violently at first, but seeing he was held with firm and tenacious grip, he gracefully submitted to the inevitable. The dog behaved very civilly, uttering merely a few low growls. Phouts now came up and the prisoner was tied. When the Indian found he was treated kindly and was to be carried to Pittsburgh, he showed them a canoe, and all embarked and encamped all night at the mouth of the little run.
Next morning Brady started to get some "jerk " they had hung up, leaving Phouts in charge of the prisoner. The Indian complained to the Dutchman that the cords hurt his wrists very much, and he, being a tender and kind-hearted fellow, took off the cords entirely, at which the redskin appeared very grateful. While, however, Phouts was busy with something else, the wary savage sprang to the tree against which Phouts' gun stood leaning, and leveled at the Dutchman's breast. The trigger was pulled, but fortunately the bullet whistled harmlessly past, taking off part of Phouts' bullet pouch. One stroke of Phouts' toma- hawk settled the old Indian forever, nearly severing the head from the body.
Brady, hearing the report of the rifle and the yell of Phouts, hastily ran back, where he found the Dutchman astride of the Indian's body, calmly examining the rent in his own pouch. " In the name of Heaven," said Brady, "what have you done?" "Yust look, Gab- tain," answered the fearless Phouts, "vat dis d-d red rascal vas apout;" holding up to view the hole in his belt. The Indian's scalp was then taken off, they got into their canoe and returned safely to Pittsburgh.
SAVES HIMSELF BY A SHREWD DEVICE-A WHOLESALE KILL.
Beaver Valley and the region about Fort McIntosh was one of Brady's famous scouting grounds. In one of his trapping and hunting excur- sions thereabouts, he was surprised and taken prisoner by a party of In- dians who had closely watched his movements. To have shot or toma- hawked him would have been but a small gratification to that of satiat- ing their revenge by burning him at a slow fire, in the presence of all the Indians of their village. He was therefore taken alive to their en- campment, on the west bank of the Beaver river, about a mile and a half from its mouth. After the usual exultations and rejoicings at the capture of a noted enemy, and causing him to run the gauntlet, a fire was prepared, near which Brady was placed after being stripped, and with his arms unbound. Previous to tying him to the stake, a large-
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circle was formed around of Indian men, women and children, dancing and yelling, and uttering all manner of threats and abuses that their small knowledge of the English language could afford.
The prisoner looked on these preparations for death and on his sav- age foe with a firm countenance and a steady eye, meeting all their threats with Indian fortitude. In the midst of their dancing and rejoic- ing, a squaw of one of their chiefs came near him, with a child in her arms. Quick as thought, and with intuitive prescience, he snatched it from her and threw it toward the fire. Horror stricken at the sudden outrage, the Indians simultaneously rushed to rescue the infant from the flames. In the midst of this confusion, Brady darted from the circle, overturning all that came in his way, and rushed into the adjacent thicket, with the Indians yelling at his heels. He ascended the steep side of a hill amidst a shower of bullets, and darting down the opposite declivity, secreted himself in the deep ravines and laurel thickets that abound for several miles to the west. His knowledge of the country, and wonderful activity, enabled him to elude his enemies, and reach the settlements in safety. Another version of this event furnished us, makes it the squaw herself that the Captain pushed on the fire.
From one of Brady's spies, who, in 1851, had not answered to the roll-call of death-one who served with him three years, during the most trying and eventful period of his life-De Hass has gathered the following incident : On one of their scouting expeditions into the Indian country, the spies, consisting at that time of sixteen men, en- camped for the night at a place called " Big Shell Camp." Toward morning, one of the guard heard the report of a gun, and immediately communicating the fact to his commander, a change of position was ordered. Leading his men to an elevated point, the Indian camp was discovered almost beneath them. Cautiously advancing in the direc- tion of the camp, six Indians were discovered standing around the fire, while several others lay upon the ground, apparently asleep. Brady or- dered his men to wrap themselves in their blankets and lie down, while he kept watch. Two hours thus passed without anything material oc- curring.
As day began to appear, Brady roused his men and posted them side by side, himself at the end of the line. When all were in readiness, the commander was to touch, with his elbow, the man who stood next to him, and the communication was to pass successively to the farthest end. The orders then were, the moment the last man was touched, he should shoot, which was to be the signal for a general discharge. With the first faint ray of light rose six Indians, and stood around the fire. With breathless expectation the whites waited for the remainder to rise,
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CURING A "SICK GUN."
but failing, and apprehending a discovery, the Captain moved his el- bow, and the next instant the wild woods rang with the shrill report of the rifles of the spies. Five of the six Indians fell dead, but the sixth, screened behind a tree, escaped. The camp being large, it was deemed unsafe to attack it further, and a retreat was immediately ordered.
Soon after the above occurrence, in returning from a similar expedi- tion, and when about two miles from the mouth of Yellow Creek, at a place admirably adapted for an ambuscade, a solitary Indian stepped forward and fired upon the advancing company. Instantly, on firing, he retreated toward a deep ravine, into which the savage hoped to lead his pursuers. But Brady detected the trick, and, in a voice of thunder, ordered his men to tree. No sooner had this been done, than the con- cealed foe rushed forth in great numbers, and opened upon the whites a perfect storm of leaden hail. The brave spies returned the fire with spirit and effect ; but as they were likely to be overpowered by superior numbers, a retreat was ordered to the top of the hill, and thence con- tinued until out of danger. The whites lost one man in this engage- ment, and two wounded. The Indian loss is supposed to have been about twenty, in killed and wounded.
CURING A "SICK GUN"-A BRACE AT A SINGLE SHOT
Captain Brady possessed all the elements of a brave and successful scout. Like Marion, "he consulted with his men respectfully, heard them patiently, weighed their suggestions, and silently made his own conclusions. They knew his determination only by his actions." Brady had but few superiors as a woodsman: he would strike out into the heart of the wilderness, and, with no guide but the sun by day and the stars by night, or, in their absence, then by such natural marks as the bark and tops of trees, he would move on steadily in a direct line toward his point of destination. He always avoided beaten paths and the borders of streams, and never was known to leave his track behind him. In this manner he eluded pursuit and defied detection. He was often vainly hunted by his own men, and was more likely to find them than they him.
When Brady was once out on a forest excursion with some friendly Indians killing game for the Fort Pitt garrison, his tomahawk slipped and severely wounded his knee, obliging him to camp out for some time. with the Indians. One of these, who had taken the name of Wilson,. Brady saw one evening coming home in a great hurry and kicking his· squaw. Without saying a word he then began to unbreech his gun. The squaw went away, and returned soon after with some roots, which,. 28
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after washing clean, she put into a kettle to boil. While boiling, Wilson corked up the muzzle of his gun and stuck the breech into the kettle, and continued it there until the plug flew out of the muzzle. He then took it out and put it into the stock. Brady, knowing the Indians were very "superstitious," did not speak to him until he saw him wiping his · gun. He then called to him, and asked what was the matter. Wilson came to the Captain and said that his gun had been very sick, that she could not shoot; he had been just giving her a vomit, and she was now well. . Whether the vomit helped the gun or only strengthened Wilson's nerves, the Captain could not tell, but he averred that Wilson killed ten deer the next day.
Near Beaver, Pa., (formerly Fort McIntosh,) exist three localities, respectively called Brady's Run, Brady's Path and Brady's Hill. The following incident, furnished us, ended on the last. The Captain started from Pittsburgh with a few picked men on a scout towards the Sandusky villages. On their return they were hotly pursued, and all killed but the leader. He succeeded in getting back as far as the hill now called after him, not wounded, but nearly dead with fatigue. He knew well he was being relentlessly tracked, and that if he did not resort to some shrewd Indian trick, he would be lost. After cudgeling his brains awhile he hit upon the following :
Selecting a large tree lately blown down, and having a very thick, leafy end, he walked back very carefully in his tracks for a few hundred yards, then turned about and again trod in his old steps as far as the tree. This was to insure the Indians following him thither. He then walked along the trunk and snugly ensconced himself among the dense frondage at its end. Here he sat with rifle, specially loaded, all ready for duty. He counted upon his pursuers tracking him that far, and then, seeing no further trace of him, and it being at the end of a long day's tramp, that they would squat on the tree in a line for consultation. Nor was he disappointed. After he had been thus secreted for some time, and was gaining a fine rest, three Indians, with eyes bent earth- wards like nosing hounds, came up in hot pursuit. Coming to the tree, they closely examined for the trail beyond, but not finding any, they were nonplused, and sat down to confab together.
The waiting scout now raised his long, black, unerring tube, drew a . careful bead for his line shot, when flash! crack! and down tumbled one of his quarry dead and the other two wounded. With a silent chuckle at the success of his wile, Brady leaped to the encounter with clubbed rifle, and, after a brief struggle, succeeded in killing both sav- ages. Quietly securing the whole three scalps, he made his way back to the fort. They had to hunt in gangs who would take Brady.
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THE LONE HUNTER'S REVENGE.
THE LONE HUNTER'S REVENGE-A DREAD HOLOCAUST.
At another time, about the close of the Revolution, Brady started with two tried companions-Thomas Bevington and Benjamin Biggs- from Fort McIntosh to Fort Pitt. They debated for some time which side of the Ohio they would take, but finally selected the northern, or Logstown shore, along which ran the beaten Indian trail. Moving rapidly forward they came to where Sewickley now stands, but where at that time was only the solitary cabin of a hunter named Albert Gray_" one of that roving, dare-devil, wild-turkey breed, that must be always a little in advance of outposts.
Upon approaching this cabin, Brady suddenly came upon "Indian sign," and bidding his men crouch down, went ahead to reconnoitre. In a short time he heard a noise to one side, and beheld Gray himself coming along on horseback, with a deer laid across behind. Brady being dressed and painted, as usual, like an Indian, had to wait till the hunter was abreast, when he suddenly sprang forth and jerked Gray from his horse, saying hurriedly, as the other offered fierce resistance, " Don't strike; I am Captain Brady ! for God's sake keep quiet !" The twain now stealthily advanced, and to their horror saw the ruins of Gray's little cabin smoking in the distance. It was as Brady feared. The savages had been at their hellish work. Gray's feelings may be imagined. Unrecking of the danger, he madly rushed forward, rifle in hand, more cautiously followed by the ranger. The ruins were care- fully examined, but finding no bodies, it was concluded that the whole family were made captive. Not an instant to be lost ! The retreating trail was broad and fresh, denoting a large party of Indians. The two lurking scouts were now rejoined, and an eager, anxious conference followed. One advised to go to Fort Pitt and the other to Fort McIn- tosh, about equidistant, for aid, but Brady said, "Come ! Follow me !"
The pursuit was commenced at two P. M. Brady was a thorough woodsman, and knew the "lay" of that country, with its ravines, points and short cuts, better than the redskins themselves. Sure, by the tread of the trail, that the marauders were making for Big Beaver ford, he so shaped his course as to intercept, or, failing in that, to overtake them at this point. Right as a trivet; for on approaching the river he found their plain trail, making, as Brady supposed, for a wild, secluded glen through which a stream, now known as Brady's Run, brawled its devi- ous way.
A close inspection and study of the traces indicated a party of at
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least a dozen. The odds were very large, but the anguish and impa- tience of the bereaved husband and father were so great that a sudden night attack was resolved upon. Secreting themselves, therefore, they patiently bided their time until dusk, when, crossing the Beaver, they entered the savage and sequestered ravine on the other side, and soon descried-right beside a famous spring-the camp fire of the cruel kid- nappers. The unrecking Indians were at their evening meal, the cap- tives-among whom was a strange woman and two children beside Gray's-sitting apart by themselves. The sight of his wife and chil- dren made Gray's heart thump, and he was like a bloodhound held in leash. But Brady sternly rebuked his impatience, and firmly restrained him. Their only chance for success was to wait until the reds were asleep. If evil had been intended to the captives, it would have been inflicted before that. They must trust only to knife and tomahawk, and must all crawl to the side of the sleeping savages, each man select- ing his victim.
And now the fire has nearly died out, and the Indian camp is at rest. No watch dog there to betray the four scouts, who, making no more noise than their own shadows, draw themselves, like so many serpents, slowly but surely forward. A branch suddenly snaps beneath the knee of Biggs ! Not much of a noise, but loud and distinct enough to cause one of the swarthy sons of the forest to spring to a sitting po- sition, and-with head bent in direction of the alarm, and with ear in- tensely attent to the slightest sound-to listen, listen, listen. The four avengers lay prone on the grass, their hands on their knife handles and their hearts beating like muffled drums. The strain was truly dread- ful, but perfect silence is maintained-no sound but the faint chirp of a wood cricket-so delicate that scarce could anything live between it and silence.
The dusky statue, his suspicions at length lulled, gives the dying embers a stir, and, with a sleepy yawn, sinks again to slumber. He has thus lighted his own and his companions' way to death, for when all was again quiet, a low cluck from Brady gives the signal of advance. Noiselessly as rattlers, each of the four drags himself alongside of a sleeping savage, a tomahawk in each right hand and a knife between the teeth. The four gleaming instruments of vengeance are now suspended above the unconscious sleepers, and at another low cluck from Brady, a hail of murderous blows descends.
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