It seems that the garrison here were rather taken off their guard. Some of the palisade work had not been secured as permanently as possible, and the original party which built the fort had been tempted, in the hurry of constructing and their fewness of hands, to restrict its extent, so as not to include a spring of water within its limits. Great as were these disadvantages, they were on the eve of exposure to a still greater one, for had the attack been delayed a few hours, the garrison would have been found disabled by sending off a reinforcement to a neighboring station -Holder's settlement-on an unfounded alarm that it was attacked by a party of savages. As it was, no sooner had a few of the men made their appearance outside of the gate than they were fired on, and compelled to regain the inside. According to custom, the Indians resorted to stratagem for success. A detachment of one hundred warriors attacked the south-east angle of the station, calculating to draw the entire body of the besieged to that quarter to repel the attack, and thus enable the residue of the assailants, five hundred strong, who were on the opposite side in ambush near the spring, to take advantage of its unprotected situation, when the whole force of the defense should be drawn off to resist the assault at the south-east. Their purpose, however, was comprehended inside, and instead of returning the fire of the smaller party, they secretly dispatched an express to Lexington for assistance, and began to repair the palisades, and otherwise to put themselves in the best possible posture of defense.

The more experienced of the garrison felt satisfied that a powerful party was in ambuscade near the spring, but at the same time, they supposed that the Indians would not unmask themselves until the firing upon the opposite side of the fort was returned with such warmth as to induce the belief that the feint had succeeded. Acting upon this impression, and yielding to the urgent necessity of the case, they summoned all the women, without exception, and explaining to them the circumstances in which they were placed, and the improbability that any injury would be offered them until the firing had been returned from the opposite side of the fort, they urged them to go in a body to the spring and each to bring up a bucket full of water. Some of the ladies had no relish for the undertaking, and asked why the men could not bring water as well as themselves? observing that they were not bullet-proof, and that the Indians made no distinction between male and female scalps. To this it was answered, that the women were in the habit of bringing water every morning to the fort, and that if the Indians saw them engaged as usual, it would induce them to believe that their ambuscade was undiscovered, and that they would not unmask themselves for the sake of firing upon a few women, when they hoped, by remaining concealed a few moments longer, to obtain complete possession of the fort. That if men should go down to the spring the Indians would immediately suspect that something was wrong, would despair of succeeding by ambuscade, and would instantly rush upon them, follow them into the fort, or shoot them down at the spring. The decision was soon over. A few of the boldest declared their readiness to brave the danger, and the younger and more timid rallying in the rear of these veterans, they all marched down in a body to the spring, within point blank shot of five hundred Indian warriors! Some of the girls could not help betraying symptoms of terror, but the married women, in general, moved with a steadiness and composure which completely deceived the Indians. Not a shot was fired. The party were permitted to fill their buckets one after another, without interruption, and although their steps became quicker and quicker on their return, and when near the fort degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, attended with some little crowding at the gate, yet not more than one fifth of the water was spilled.

When an ample supply of water had been thus obtained, and the neglected defenses completed, a party of thirteen men sallied out in the direction in which the assault had been made. They were fired on by the savages, and driven again within the palisades, but without sustaining any loss of life. Immediately the five hundred on the opposite side rushed to the assault of what they deemed the unprotected side of the fort, without entertaining any doubts of their success. A well directed fire, however, put them promptly to flight. Some of the more daring and desperate approached near enough with burning arrows to fire the houses, one or two of which were burned, but a favorable wind drove the flames away from the

mass of the buildings, and the station escaped the danger threatened from this source. A second assault from the great body of the Indians, was repelled with the same vigor and success as the first.

Disappointed of their object thus far, the assailants retreated, and concealed themselves under the bank of the creek to await and intercept the arrival of the assistance which they were well aware was on its way from Lexington. The express from Bryant's Station reached that town without difficulty, but found its male inhabitants had left there to aid in the defense of Holder's Station, which was reported to be attacked. Following their route, he overtook them at Boonesborough, and sixteen mounted men, with thirty on foot, immediately retraced their steps for the relief of the besieged at Bryant's. When this reinforcement approached the fort, the firing had entirely ceased, no enemy was visible, and the party advanced in reckless confidence that it was either a false alarm, or that the Indians had abandoned the siege. Their avenue to the garrison was a lane between two cornfields, which growing rank and thick formed an effectual hiding place to the Indians even at the distance of a few yards. The line of ambush extended on both sides nearly six hundred yards. Providentially it was in the heat of midsummer, and dry accordingly, and the approach of the horsemen raised a cloud of dust so thick as to compel the enemy to fire at random, and the whites happily escaped without losing a man. The footmen, on hearing the firing in front, dispersed amidst the corn, in hopes of reaching the garrison unobserved. Here they were intercepted by the savages, who threw themselves between them and the fort, and but for the luxuriant growth of corn they must all have been shot down. As it was, two men were killed and four wounded of the party on foot, before it succeeded in making its way into the fort.

Thus reinforced, the garrison felt assured of safety, while in the same measure the assailing party began to despair of success.

One expedient remained, which was resorted to for the purpose of intimidating the brave spirits who were gathered for the defense of their wives and little ones. As the shades of evening approached, Girty, who commanded the party, addressed the inmates of the fort. Mounting a stump, from which he could be distinctly heard, with a demand for the surrender of the place, he assured the garrison that a reinforcement with cannon would arrive that night, that the station must fall, that he could assure them of protection if they surrendered, but could not restrain the Indians if they carried the fort by storm; adding, he supposed they knew who it was that thus addressed them. A young man, named Reynolds, fearing the effect which the threat of cannon might have on the minds of the defending party, with the fate of Martin's and Ruddle's Stations fresh in their memories, left no opportunity for conference, by replying instantly, that he knew him well, and held him in such contempt that he had called a good for nothing dog he had by the name of Simon Girty. 'Know you,' added he, 'we all know you for a renegade cowardly villain, that delights in murdering women and children? Wait until morning, and you will find on what side the reinforcements are. We expect to leave not one of your cowardly souls alive, and if you are caught, our women shall whip you to death with hickory switches. Clear out, you cut-throat villain.' Some of the Kentuckians shouted out, 'Shoot the d-d rascal!' and Girty was glad to retreat out of the range of their rifles lest some one of the garrison might be tempted to adopt the advice.

The night passed away in uninterrupted tranquillity, and at daylight in the morning the Indian camp was found deserted. Fires were still burning brightly, and several pieces of meat were left upon their roasting sticks, from which it was inferred that they had retreated just before daybreak.

Battle of the Blue Licks.—Early in the day reinforcements began to drop in, and by noon 167 men were assembled at Bryant's Station, among whom were Cols. Boone, Todd, and Trigg; Majors Harland, McBride, M'Gary, and Levy Todd; and Captains Bulzer and Gordon; of the last six named, except Todd and M'Gary, all fell in the subsequent battle. A tumultuous conversation ensued, and it was unanimously resolved to pursue the enemy forthwith, notwithstanding that they were three to one in numbers. The Indians, contrary to their usual custom, left a broad and obvious trail, and manifested a willingness to be pursued. Notwithstanding,

such was the impetuosity of the Kentuckians, that they overlooked these consid erations, and hastened on with fatal resolution, most of them being mounted.

The next day, about noon, they came, for the first time, in view of the enemy at the Lower Blue Licks. A number of Indians were seen ascending the rocky ridge on the opposite side of the Licking. They halted upon the appearance of the Kentuckians, and gazed at them a few moments, and then calmly and leisurely disappeared over the top of the hill. An immediate halt ensued. A dozen or twenty officers met in front of the ranks and entered into a consultation. The wild and lonely aspect of the country around them, their distance from any point of support, with the certainty of their being in the presence of a superior enemy, seems to have inspired a portion of seriousness bordering upon awe. All eyes were now turned upon Boone, and Col. Todd asked his opinion as to what should be done. The veteran woodsman, with his usual unmoved gravity, replied:

That their situation was critical and delicate; that the force opposed to them was undoubtedly numerous and ready for battle, as might readily be seen from the leisurely retreat of the few Indians who had appeared on the crest of the hill; that he was well acquainted with the ground in the neighborhood of the Lick, and was apprehensive that an ambuscade was formed at the distance of a mile in advance, where two ravines, one upon each side of the ridge, ran in such a manner that a concealed enemy might assail them at once both in front and flank, before they were apprised of the danger.

It would be proper, therefore, to do one of two things. Either to await the arri val of Logan, who was now undoubtedly on his march to join them, with a strong force from Lincoln, or, if it was determined to attack without delay, that one half of their number should march up the river, which there bends in an elliptical form, cross at the rapids and fall upon the rear of the enemy, while the other division attacked in front. At any rate, he strongly urged the necessity of reconnoitering the ground carefully before the main body crossed the river.

Boone was heard in silence and with deep attention. Some wished to adopt the first plan; others preferred the second; and the discussion threatened to be drawn out to some length, when the boiling ardor of M'Gary, who could never endure the presence of an enemy without instant battle, stimulated him to an act, which had nearly proved destructive to his country. He suddenly interrupted the consultation with a loud whoop, resembling the war-cry of the Indians, spurred his horse into the stream, waved his hat over his head, and shouted aloud: "Let all who are not cowards follow me!' The words and the action together, produced an electrical effect. The mounted men dashed tumultuously into the river, each striving to be foremost. The footmen were mingled with them in one rolling and irregular

mass.

No order was given, and none observed. They struggled through a deep ford as well as they could, M'Gary still leading the van, closely followed by Majors Har land and McBride. With the same rapidity they ascended the ridge, which, by the trampling of Buffalo foragers, had been stripped bare of all vegetation, with the exception of a few dwarfish cedars, and which was rendered still more desolate in appearance, by the multitude of rocks, blackened by the sun, which was spread over its surface.

Suddenly the van halted. They had reached the spot mentioned by Boone, where the two ravines head, on each side of the ridge. Here a body of Indians presented themselves, and attacked the van. M'Gary's party instantly returned the fire, but under great disadvantage. They were upon a bare and open ridge; the Indians in a bushy ravine. The center and rear, ignorant of the ground, hurried up to the assistance of the van, but were soon stopped by a terrible fire from the ravine, which flanked them. They found themselves inclosed as if in the wings of a net, destitute of proper shelter, while the enemy were, in a great measure, covered from their fire. Still, however, they maintained their ground. The action became warm and bloody. The parties gradually closed, the Indians emerged from the ravine, and the fire became mutually destructive. The officers suffered dreadfully. Todd and Trigg, in the rear; Harland, McBride, and young Boone, in front, were already killed.

The Indians gradually extended their line, to turn the right of the Kentuckians.

and cut off their retreat. This was quickly perceived by the weight of the fire from that quarter, and the rear instantly fell back in disorder, and attempted to rush through their only opening to the river. The motion quickly communicated itself to the van, and a hurried retreat became general. The Indians instantly sprung forward in pursuit, and falling upon them with their tomahawks, made a cruel slaughter. From the battle ground to the river, the spectacle was terrible. The horsemen generally escaped, but the foot, particularly the van, which had advanced farthest within the wings of the net, were almost totally destroyed. Col. Boone, after witnessing the death of his son and many of his dearest friends, found himself almost entirely surrounded at the very commencement of the retreat.

Several hundred Indians were between him and the ford, to which the great mass of the fugitives were bending their flight, and to which the attention of the savages was principally directed. Being intimately acquainted with the ground, he, together with a few friends, dashed into the ravine which the Indians had occupied, but which most of them had now left to join in the pursuit. After sustaining one or two heavy fires, and baffling one or two small parties, who pursued him for a short distance, he crossed the river below the ford, by swimming, and entering the wood at a point where there was no pursuit, returned by a circuitous route to Bryant's Station. In the meantime, the great mass of the victors and vanquished crowded the bank of the ford.

The slaughter was great in the river. The ford was crowded with horsemen and foot and Indians, all mingled together. Some were compelled to seek a passage above by swimming; some, who could not swim, were overtaken and killed at the edge of the water. A man by the name of Netherland, who had formerly been strongly suspected of cowardice, here displayed a coolness and presence of mind, equally noble and unexpected.

Being among the first in gaining the opposite bank, he then instantly checked his horse, and in a loud voice, called upon his companions to halt, fire upon the Indians, and save those who were still in the stream. The party instantly obeyed, and facing about, poured a close and fatal discharge of rifles upon the foremost of the pursuers. The enemy instantly fell back from the opposite bank, and gave time for the harrassed and miserable footmen to cross in safety. The check, however, was but momentary. Indians were seen crossing in great numbers above and below, and the flight again became general. Most of the foot left the great buffalo track, and plunging into the thickets, escaped by a circuitous route to Bryant's Station.

But little loss was sustained after crossing the river, although the pursuit was urged keenly for twenty miles. From the battle-ground to the ford, the loss was very heavy; and at that stage of the retreat, there occurred a rare and striking instance of magnanimity, which it would be criminal to omit. The reader could not have forgotten young Reynolds, who replied with such rough but ready humor to the pompous summons of Girty, at the siege of Bryant's. This young man, after bearing his share in the action with distinguished gallantry, was galloping with several other horsemen in order to reach the ford. The great body of fugitives had preceded them, and their situation was in the highest degree critical and dangerous.

About half way between the battle-ground and the river, the party overtook Capt. Patterson, on foot, exhausted by the rapidity of the flight, and in consequence of former wounds received from the Indians, so infirm as to be unable to keep up with the main body of the men on foot. The Indians were close behind him, and his fate seemed inevitable. Reynolds, upon coming up with this brave officer, instantly sprung from his horse, aided Patterson to mount into the saddle, and continued his own flight on foot. Being remarkably active and vigorous, he contrived to elude his pursuers, and turning off from the main road, plunged into the river near the spot where Boone had crossed, and swam in safety to the opposite side. Unfortunately he wore a pair of buckskin breeches, which had become so heavy and full of water as to prevent his exerting himself with his usual activity, and while sitting down for the purpose of pulling them off, he was overtaken by a party of Indians, and made prisoner.

A prisoner is rarely put to death by the Indians, unless wounded or infirm, until hey return to their own country; and then his fate is decided in solemn council. Young Reynolds, therefore, was treated kindly, and compelled to accompany his captors in the pursuit. A small party of Kentuckians soon attracted their attention; and he was left in charge of three Indians, who, eager in pursuit, in turn committed him to the charge of one of their number, while they followed their companions. Reynolds and his guard jogged along very leisurely; the former totally unarmed; the latter, with a tomahawk and rifle in his hands. At length the Indian stopped to tie his moccasin, when Reynolds instantly sprung upon him, knocked him down with his fist, and quickly disappeared in the thicket which surrounded them. For his act of generosity, Capt. Patterson afterward made him a present of two hundred acres of first rate land.

The melancholy intelligence rapidly spread throughout the country, and the whole land was covered with mourning, for it was the severest loss that Kentucky had ever experienced in Indian warfare. Sixty Kentuckians were slain and a number taken prisoners. The loss of the Indians, while the battle lasted, was also considerable, though far inferior to that of the whites.

On the very day of the battle, Col. Logan arrived at Bryant's Station with four hundred and fifty men. Fearful of some disaster, he marched on with the utmost diligence, and soon met the foremost of the fugitives. Learning from them the sad tidings, he continued on, hoping to come up with the enemy at the field of battle which he reached on the second day. The enemy were gone, but the bodies of the Kentuckians still lay unburied on the spot where they had fallen. Immense flocks of buzzards were soaring over the battle ground, and the bodies of the dead had become so much swollen and disfigured that it was impossible to recognize the features of the most particular friends. Many corpses were floating near the shore of the northern bank, already putrid from the action of the sun, and partially eaten by fishes. The whole were carefully collected by Col. Logan, and interred as decently as the nature of the soil would permit."

South-western view of Lexington Court House.

LEXINGTON, the county seat of Fayette county, is a remarkably neat and beautiful city, situated on a branch of Elkhorn River, 25 miles S.E. from Frankfort, 85 from Cincinnati, 77 S.E. from Louisville, and 517 from Washington City. The streets of Lexington are laid out at right angles, well paved, and bordered with ornamental trees. Many of the private residences and several of the public edifices are fine specimens of architectural taste, while the surrounding country, rich and highly cultivated, is adorned with elegant mansions. The city contains a court house, a Masonic Hall, the State Lunatic Asylum, 12 churches, the Transylvania University, several academies and an orphan asylum. It is celebrated throughout the Union for