were to bring in prisoners. They pushed through the country, always dressed and painted in Indian style ; they passed on, crossing the river St. Mary, and then through the country near to the river Auglaize, where they met a single Indian, and called to him to surrender. This man, notwithstanding that the whites were six against one, refused to surrender. He leveled his rifle, and as the whites were approaching him on horseback, he fired, but missed his mark, and then took to his heels to effect his escape. The undergrowth of brush was so very thick that he gained upon his pursuers. McLelland and Christopher Miller dismounted, and McLelland soon overhauled him. The Indian, finding himself overtaken by his pursuers, turned round and made a blow at McLelland with his rifle, which was parried. As McLelland's intention was not to kill, he kept him at bay till Christopher Miller came up, when they closed in upon him, and made him prisoner without receiving any injury. They turned about for head quarters, and arrived safely at Fort Greenville. Their prisoner was reputed to be a Potawotamie chief, whose courage and prowess was scarcely equaled. As Christopher Miller had performed his part on this occasion to the entire satisfaction of the brave spirits with whom he acted, he had, as he merited, their entire confidence.

It is not my intention to give a detailed account of the various actions performed by the spies attached to Gen. Wayne's army, although it would be a narrative most interesting to western readers. I have selected only a few of the acts performed by Captain Wells, and his enterprising followers, to show what kind of men they were. History, in no age of the world, furnishes so many instances of repeated acts of bravery as were performed by the frontier men of western Pennsylvania, western Virginia, and Kentucky; yet these acts of apparent desperation were so frequently repeated by num

bers, that they were scarcely noticed at the time as being any other than the common occurrence of the day.

I have no doubt, that during General Wayne's campaign, Captain Wells, and the few men he commanded, brought in not less than twenty prisoners, and killed more than an equal number. Desperate as they were in combat, that bravery was only a part of their merit, is demonstrated by the following circumstance.

On one of Captain Wells' peregrinations through the Indian country, as he came to the bank of the river St. Mary, he discovered a family of Indians coming up the river in a canoe. He dismounted, and concealed his men near the bank of the river, whilst he went himself to the bank, in open view, and called to the Indians to come over. As he was dressed in Indian style, and spoke to them in their own language, the Indians, not expecting an enemy in that part of the country, without any suspicion of danger went across the river. The moment the canoe struck the shore, Wells heard the cocks of his comrades' rifles cry, "nick, nick," as they prepared to shoot the Indians; but who should be in the canoe but his Indian father and mother, with their children! As his comrades were coming forward with their rifles cocked, ready to pour in the deadly storm upon the devoted Indians, Wells called upon them to hold their hands and desist. He then informed them who those Indians were, and solemnly declared, that the man who would attempt to injure one of them, would receive a ball in his head. He said to his men," that that family had fed him when he was hungry, clothed him when he was naked, and kindly nursed him when sick; and in every respect were as kind and affectionate to him as they were to their own children."

This short, pathetic speech, found its way to the sympathetic hearts of his leather-hunting-shirt comrades. Although they would have made but a shabby appear

ance on being introduced to a fashionable tea-party, or into a splendid ball-room, amongst polished grandees, or into a ceremonious levee, to pass through unmeaning becks, bows, and courtesies-the present was a scene of nature, and gratitude the motive; they all, at once, entered into their leader's feelings. I never knew a truly brave man, who could hold back the tear of sympathy at the joy, grief, or sorrow of his fellow man: it is the timid coward who is cruel when he has the advantage. Those hardy soldiers approved of the motives of Captain Wells' lenity to the enemy. They threw down their rifles and tomahawks, went to the canoe, and shook hands with the trembling Indians in the most friendly Captain Wells assured them they had nothing to fear from him; and after talking with them to dispel their fears, he said, "that General Wayne was approaching with an overwhelming force; that the best thing the Indians could do was to make peace; that the white men did not wish to continue the war. He urged his Indian father for the future to keep out of the reach of danger." He then bade them farewell: they appeared grateful for his clemency. They then pushed off their canoe, and went down the river as fast as they could propel her.

manner.

Captain Wells and his comrades, though perfect desperadoes in fight, upon this occasion proved they largely possessed that real gratitude and benevolence of heart, which does honor to human kind.

CHAPTER III.

EARLY in the month of August, when the main army had arrived at the place subsequently designated as fort Defiance, General Wayne wished to be informed of the intentions of the enemy. For this purpose, Captain Wells was again dispatched to bring in another prisoner. The distance from fort Defiance to the British fort, at the mouth of the Maumee river, was only forty-five miles, and he would not have to travel far before he would find Indians. As his object was to bring in a prisoner, it became necessary for him to keep out of the way of large parties, and endeavor to fall in with some stragglers, who might be easily subdued and captured.

They went cautiously down the river Maumee, till they came opposite the site on which fort Meigs was erected by General Harrison, in 1813. This was two miles above the British fort, then called fort Campbell. On the west bank of the Maumee was an Indian village. Wells and his party rode into the village, as if they had just come from the British fort. Being dressed and painted in complete Indian style, they rode through the village, occasionally stopping and talking to the Indians in their own language. No suspicion of who they were was excited, the enemy believing them to be Indians from a distance, coming to take a part in the battle which they all knew was shortly to be fought. After they had passed the village some distance, they fell in with an Indian man and woman on horseback, who were returning to the town from hunting. This man and woman were made captives without resistance. They then set off for fort Defiance.

As they were rapidly proceeding up the Maumee river, a little after dark, they came near a large encampment of

Indians, who were merrily amusing themselves around their camp-fires. Their prisoners were ordered to be silent, under pain of instant death. They went round the camp with their prisoners, till they got about half a mile above it, where they halted to consult on their future operations. After consultation, they concluded to gag and tie their prisoners, and ride back to the Indian camp, and give them a rally, in which each should kill his Indian. They deliberately got down, gagged, and fastened their prisoners to trees, rode boldly into the Indian encampment, and halted, with their rifles lying across the pummels of their saddles. They inquired when last they had heard of General Wayne, and the movements of his army; how soon, and where it was expected the battle would be fought. The Indians who were standing around Wells and his desperadoes, were very communicative, answering all their interrogatories without sus-. pecting any deceit in their visitors. At length, an Indian, who was sitting some distance from them, said in an under tone, in another tongue, to some who were near him, that he suspected that these strangers had some mischief in their heads. Wells overheard what he said, and immediately gave the preconcerted signal, and each fired his rifle into the body of an Indian, at not more than six feet distance. The Indian who had suspected them, the moment he made the remark, and a number of others, rose up with their rifles in their hands, but not before Wells and his party had each shot an Indian. As soon as Wells and his party fired, they put spurs to their horses, laying with their breasts on the horses' necks, so as to lessen the mark for the enemy to fire at. They had not got out of the light of the camp-fire, before the Indians shot at them. As McLelland lay close on his horse's neck, he was shot, the ball passing under his shoulder-blade, and coming out at the top of his shoulder Captain Wells was shot through the arm on which he