Pioneers of America

Preface

This book is intended to be a supplementary reader on American history, for use in the fourth and fifth grades of our pubhc schools, and for boys and girls from ten to fifteen years of age. It is also intended for collateral reading in connection with one or more of the elementary textbooks on American history, and may be used with the three other books of similar grade in this series, namely, '^The American History Story-book," ''The Childs' Book of American History," and "Heroic Deeds of American Sailors."

It is a good thing for American boys and girls, and for all Americans, to keep in mind the daring deeds, acts of heroism, and thrilling adventures of the pioneers of America. To this intent the authors have rewritten or adapted from trustworthy sources a few of the, more dramatic and picturesque events in the

VI PREFACE

winning of the West. As in other books of this series, they have used freely such personal anecdotes and incidents as thrill the reader because of their human interest and their portrayal of the dramatic and picturesque life of our forefathers.

It is the hope and expectation of the authors that this book may serve as one of the smaller foundation stones on which young people may build in due time a more extended and formal course in American history.

Albert F. Blaisdell.

Francis K. Ball.

Contents

PAGE

Preface . v

CHAPTER

II The Capture Of Quebec

MORE than seventy years before Captain John Smith came to Virginia, a French explorer crossed the ocean and sailed up a river to which he gave the name Saint Lawrence. He took possession of the land in the name of France. After many years another French explorer, named Champlain, sailed up the Saint Lawrence River to the spot where Quebec now stands. He made a settlement and became the founder of the French empire in Canada.

Champlain was a noble and brave man, and one of the most famous Frenchmen of his time. He explored the northeastern part of our country, and gave names to many places. He discovered Lake Champlain, which was named after him. He discovered Lake Ontario and Lake Huron also. He was governor of the colony of Canada many years. He was called the Father of New France.

At this time French missionaries came to teach the Indians. These missionaries were noble men too. They and the fur traders went farther and farther to the west, into the dense wilderness.

The most famous of all the French explorers was La Salle. His hfe was filled with adventures and hardships. He built forts, traded with the Indians, and went into the wilderness where no white man had ever been before.

He sailed down the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico. He claimed for France the land drained by the Mississippi River and by the rivers flowing into the Mississippi. This meant all the land between the Alleghenies and the Rocky Mountains.

To this vast region he gave the name of Louisiana, in honor of his king, Louis the Fourteenth. The narrow strip of land held by the English along the Atlantic coast was a small settlement compared with the great territory of Louisiana.

Now began a long and hard struggle between Prance and England for the possession of America. If the French won, the land would belong to France. The people and language and customs would be French. If the English won, all these things would be Enghsh.

The struggle went on for seventy-five years. There were many fierce and bloody fights, in which the Indians took part. The English lost their battles at first, and then they began to win. But the French still held the great fort of Quebec.

Quebec was perched on a cliff two hundred feet high. It was one of the strongest fortresses in the world. For nine miles above the city, and for eight miles below, there were Unes of batteries on the steep banks of the Saint Lawrence. Thus Quebec, rising above the mighty river, stood hke a giant sentinel at the gateway to Canada and the lands of the far west.

"li the French hold Quebec, we can never conquer Canada," said a great English statesman to the king. "We must capture Quebec. I know of one man who can do it, if anybody can. That man is General James Wolfe."

''That young general is crazy," exclaimed one of the noblemen.

' ' Mad, is he? ' ' answered the old king ; ' ' then I hope he will bite some others of my generals."

Wolfe was chosen to lead the expedition to America. He knew what he was expected to do. He was to end the rule of France over America, and to raise the flag of Great Britain over Canada.

With his fleet and army he sailed up the Saint Lawrence River and landed on an island nearly opposite Quebec. He gazed at the city perched on the bluff. In full view below he saw the far-extended camps of the French. The steep banks of the river were covered with earthworks.

Above the city the river was walled in by a range of steep hills. A few men on the top of those heights could easily defend the great fortress. General Montcalm, who was in command of Quebec, was one of the best soldiers of his time. He had an army of sixteen thousand men.

General Montcalm believed that the fortress was safe. ''The English cannot land within ten miles of the city," he said. ''Their provisions will soon be gone, and then they will have to go home. In a few weeks winter will be here, and their warships will be frozen up in the river."

The French general, however, was not idle. He filled old ships with tar and all kinds of things that would burn easily, and one dark night set them afire and floated them down the river among the English fleet.

The vessels sent up sheets of flame, which Ughted the city and the long red line of the English army. English sailors sprang into their boats, threw their grappling irons on the burning ships, and towed them to the shore, where they burned till sunrise,

Meanwhile Wolfe had been making his plans. A few miles up the Saint Lawrence was a broad, level field, called the Plains of Abraham. On this plain there was room enough to draw up an army. At this place the bank of the river was high and steep, but the brave English general planned to climb to the field above and storm the fortress.

'^ I have found a zigzag trail that leads to the Plains of Abraham," he said to the Enghsh admiral. ''I will take one hundred and fifty picked men who can cUmb the steep bank. If they do it, other men can follow."

Most of the time Wolfe was sick in bed. His only fear was that he might not be well enough to lead his troops.

"You cannot cure me," he said to his doctor, ''but patch me up so that I may be without pain for a few days and able to do my duty. That is all I ask."

He first tried to mislead the French. He sent his troops here and there along the shore as if to attack the city. He sent his warships up the river with the flood tide, and had them come back with the ebb.

The French followed the ships to and fro until they were tired out.

^'They mean to land somewhere/' wrote the French general. ''Surely no army would try to climb the steep banks near the city. I swear to you that one thousand men posted there would stop a whole army. We must not suppose the enemy have wings. I have not taken off my clothes since the twentythird of June."

At last Wolfe was ready for action. It was two o'clock on the night of the twelfth of September. Lanterns were raised on board a warship. Boats loaded with picked troops started down the Saint Lawrence with the current. Other troops were soon to follow.

General Wolfe, with some of his officers, was in one of the first boats. As they drifted in the silence of the night down the river, he repeated in a low voice some lines from Gray's ''Elegy in a Country Churchyard":

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits ahke th' inevitable hour : The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

''Gentlemen," he added, "I had rather be the author of that poem than have the glory of taking Quebec."

The boats drifted in near the shore.

The stillness was broken by the cry of a French sentinel. "Who goes there?"

"France," replied a Scotch officer who could speak French.

"What is your regiment?"

"The Queen's."

The sentinel, who was expecting some boats with supplies, did not ask for the password.

"Who goes there?" called another sentinel.

"Provision boats," answered the same officer. "Don't make a noise; the English will hear you."

The sentry let them pass.

The boats reached a Uttle bay, now known as Wolfe's Cove. Twenty-four men, with their guns slung on their backs, led the way. One by one, taking hold of the bushes, they pulled themselves up the steep bank. Feeble as he was, Wolfe dragged himself up with the rest.

At daybreak the French were astonished to see the long Unes of redcoats on the Plains of Abraham. It was a critical hour for France.

Wolfe put himself at the head of his grenadiers and gave the order to charge. A bullet hit him in the arm, but he pressed forward. Another bullet struck him. He still kept on. A third bullet pierced his breast. He would have fallen, but was caught in the arms of an officer.

"Support me," he cried; ''do not let my brave fellows see me fall."

They carried him to the rear.

''Will you have a surgeon?" asked an officer.

"There is no need; it is all over with me."

A moment later another officer cried, "They run, they run; see how they run."

"Who run?" asked the dying general.

"The French, sir. They give way everywhere."

"Now, God be praised, I die in peace."

Montcalm also was borne from the field mortally wounded.

" How long have I to live? " asked the gallant general.

"Twelve hours, or less."

"Thank God, I shall not Uve to see Quebec surrendered."

The fight at Quebec took place in the year 1759. It was not a great battle, but it was of great importance. By the fall of this stronghold France lost all her lands in the New World. "With the triumph of Wolfe on the Heights of Abraham," says the historian John Fiske, "began the history of the United States."

To-day, in the city of Quebec, stands a single monument to the memory of the two noble generals who fought for the possession of the great fortress. The monument bears a beautiful inscription in Latin, which may be translated as follows:

VALOR GAVE THEM A COMMON DEATH

HISTORY A COMMON FAME

POSTERITY A COMMON MONUMENT

WOLFE MONTCALM

Ill

JOE MILLER SAVES THE FORT

SEVERAL years before the battle of Quebec a number of settlers built their log cabins and made their homes in the backwoods of Pennsylvania. They were looking forward to a time of peace between the EngUsh and the French, when they heard that General Braddock and his EngUsh troops were defeated. The Indians could now attack all the frontier settlements.

The settlers in western Pennsylvania went to work in great haste and built a log fort. The women and children stayed in the fort for safety. Among the settlers were a Mrs. Miller and her son Joseph, a lad of sixteen. Mr. Miller had started on horseback for Philadelphia to get help.

It was a hard time for the people crowded into the fort. They did not know at what minute the Indians might make an attack. They did not dare to go back to their cabins or to gather their crops. They must keep a sharp watch night and day.

At last they became tired out. They had seen no signs of Indians, and they did not keep such a strict watch. It was now early fall, but the weather was still warm and sometimes hot. On hot days they left the big oak gate of the fort open. Sometimes they ventured to go outside into the woods, to get a breath of fresh air.

One morning in October Joe Miller looked out of one of the windows, and saw that the leaves of the trees had bright colors.

"This is getting too dull for me," he said to his mother. "The frost must have opened the chestnut burrs. I want to go after some chestnuts this very day. I am just crazy to have some."

"Be careful, Joseph, my boy; the Indians may be hiding in the woods."

"I will be careful, mother. I won't go far away. I shall get back before dark."

He took an empty powder bag, stuffed it into his pocket, and slipped out of the gate of the stockade. He went up through the deep valley behind the fort, cUmbed the hill, and went into the woods.

He found plenty of chestnuts and soon had the bag filled. He then sat down under one of the big trees and ate some of the nuts.

''I must be four or five miles from the fort. I had better go back. Mother will worry if I am late."

Never did the woods seem so full of game as on that bright day in October. The quail fluttered out of the underbrush, and the deer came down to the brooks to drink.

''Oh, I wish I could get just one shot at a deer. But it will never do. Some Indian might get a shot at me."

He started back home.

Quick as a flash, and with a fierce yell, an Indian leaped out of the underbrush.

The boy broke his gun over the head of the savage and started to run. The Indian fell to the ground. The lad ran like a deer, with half a dozen other Indians after him. Several musket shots rang out. One bullet grazed the boy's ear, another whizzed through his fur cap. Of course he was scared. But he did not lose his wits.

''These Indians belong to a larger party," he said to himself. ''They are on their way to surprise the fort. I must get there first and let the people know."

He ran faster than before. The yells of the redskins slowly grew fainter.

" They will never give up the chase. They'll follow my trail to the fort."

All this time he was running away from the fort. The Miller cabin was about a mile up the river.

"I hope I can hold out long enough to reach our cabin. Father left my canoe hid in the bushes near the river. It is so much easier and shorter to paddle down the river than to tramp through the underbrush. If the Indians have not stolen my canoe, I am all right."

Over rocks and fallen trees, across the brooks, he ran until he was out of breath. At last he saw the glimmer of the river. Safe under the bushes he found his canoe just as he had left it several weeks before.

''I'm all right now," he thought. He dragged the canoe down the bank and pushed it out into the water. He leaped in and paddled for the middle of the river. There was not a moment to spare. The frail boat was just getting into the current, when a number of savages came running to the bank.

Bing! bing! blazed their guns. The bullets whizzed near the canoe. One bullet struck the side of the boat. Another hit a paddle.

''Well, well," said Joe, "this is getting rather too warm. Let me see if I can't fool them."

With a cry of pain he fell back into the bottom of the canoe as if he were hit. The Indians thought they had killed him and stopped shooting. He did not dare to get up. He lay on his back, glad to get a rest.

After a time he slowly raised himself and looked toward the shore. The Indians were not in sight. Up he got and began to paddle with all his might down the river. In a short time he reached the fort and ran in to tell the story.

Just before sunset a band of Indians came out of the woods to attack the fort. The big oak gate was shut. Every man and boy was at his place ready to defend the stockade. The Indians fired a few shots, yelUng hke fiends. Then they turned and ran into the deep woods.

''Too bad, Joseph, that you lost your gun and your chestnuts," said his mother; ''but your quick wit and grit have saved the fort. Your father will be proud of you when he hears the story.'

)y

IV Daniel Boone

DANIEL BOONE was the most famous of the backwoodsmen. He was a hunter from the tune he was old enough to hold a gun. One day he went into the woods and did not return. Friends and neighbors turned out to look for him. After several days they found the youngster far away in a rude camp, roasting a piece of meat. His father thought he was too young to live in the woods by himself and made him go home.

Many books have been written about the life and adventures of this famous man. Boone himself wrote his own life in the quaint and crude style of his time. There are many good stories told about him. Most of them are true.

Daniel Boone was born in a frontier settle-

Rebecca Bryan stepped out from her hiding place. Page 23.

merit in Pennsylvania. When he was seventeen years old, the family moved to a farm five hundred miles away, in the backwoods of North CaroHna. Daniel did not Uke to work on the farm, but soon became known as the best hunter in that wild country.

One night, while hunting by torchlight, he spied a pair of eyes gazing at him from the bushes. They seemed to be the shining eyes of a deer. He raised his gun to shoot.

" Don't shoot," screamed a voice, and pretty Rebecca Bryan, a daughter of a neighbor, stepped out from her hiding place.

''What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Watching for you."

Daniel fell in love with this rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed girl and married her.

Daniel Boone tramped across the mountains and hunted in what is now the eastern part of Tennessee. This region was a great wilderness, full of wild animals and savage Indians. On one of his trips the young hunter killed a bear and cut the following words in the bark of a big beech tree:

D. BOONE CILLED A BAR ON TREE IN THE YEAR

Until a few years ago this tree was still standing, on the bank of Boone's Creek, in eastern Tennessee. The writing shows that the young hunter could not spell very well. He says in his book that he could write only a sensible but badly spelled letter.

Boone always Hked to outwit the Indians. One day he was up in a shed where he had tobacco drying. He looked down and saw four Indians with their rifles aimed at him.

"Now, Boone," cried one of the Indians, "we have you this time. Come with us."

"All right," answered Boone; "but wait a moment until I get you some of this tobacco."

He gathered an armful of the dry tobacco, and leaping down among the Indians, shook the dusty leaves in their faces. While the half-blinded and half-choked savages were dancing about in their distress, he escaped to his house.

After a time Daniel Boone blazed a trail into the wilderness of Kentucky, and began to settle that country. He built a fort on the Kentucky River and named it Boonesborough.

Late one Sunday afternoon three girls carelessly paddled across the river in a canoe. These girls were Betsey Callaway, about seventeen years old, her sister Frances, and Jemima Boone, the daughter of Daniel Boone.

The trees and underbrush on the opposite bank were thick and came down to the edge of the water.

The girls were playing and splashing with their paddles and let the canoe drift near the shore.

Five Indians lay hid in the underbrush. One of them took hold of the rope hanging from the bow of the canoe and pulled the boat close to the bank, so that it could not be seen from the stockade.

The savages took the girls and carried them screaming into the woods. The screams were heard at the fort, but it was too late to rescue the girls. There was no other boat to cross the river. Besides, there might be a large band of redskins in the woods.

The fathers of the girls, Boone and Callaway, were not at the fort, but came home in the evening. It was dark before any plan could be made to follow the trail of the Indians. There was Uttle sleep in the fort that night.

At sunrise Boone called for help to go in pursuit of the redskins. Every man in the fort was ready. But Boone picked out only seven men, including the lovers of the three girls.

The Indians had already started for their village. The two younger girls, Frances and Jemima, were downhearted.

''These Shawnees will surely kill us," cried Frances Callaway.

''Keep up your grit, Frances," replied her older sister; "father and Daniel Boone wiU surely rescue us."

The savages knew well enough that the two old Indian fighters would soon be after them. So they took great pains to hide their trail. They made their captives walk apart and wade up and down the Uttle brooks.

Betsey Callaway was a true pioneer girl. She broke off twigs from the bushes and even dropped tiny strips of her dress. She did not stop doing so even when one of the savages threatened to kill her.

All the first day and the greater part of two nights Boone and his riflemen followed the trail hke bloodhounds. Early on the third day they found the Indians cooking their breakfast.

If the savages had known that the white men were close on their trail, they would have tomahawked their captives.

Boone now showed his skill as a backwoodsman. With young Henderson, the son of his old friend, he crawled up as near the camp as he dared. Four of the riflemen then began to fire at the savages. Boone and his friend ran between the girls and the camp. Each of them shot an Indian as he ran. The three remaining savages dashed into the woods, leaving their tomahawks, guns, and scalping knives. The girls were not harmed.

The woods were dense, and the men were so glad to get the girls back again that they let the Indians go.

Of course there was great rejoicing at Boonesborough when the rescuers and the girls reached the stockade.

Three weeks later there was a wedding in that distant settlement. Young Mr. Henderson married Betsey Callaway. Squire Boone, Daniel Boone's brother, performed the ceremony. This is said to have been the first wedding that ever took place in Kentucky.

A few years later Frances Callaway and Jemima Boone got married too. Jemima married young Flanders Callaway, the son of her father's old friend.

Afterwards the great pioneer of Kentucky went to live in the wilderness of Missouri, which at that time belonged to Spain. The last years of his life he spent there with his sonin-law, Flanders Callaway. His long life had been one of constant danger and hardship in the service of his country.

V

PONTIAC IS OUTWITTED

THE long war between England and France was at last over. The English had taken Quebec and thus got possession of Canada and the other French lands in America. One of the distant and important outposts in Canada was Detroit, on the Detroit River. A high pahsade inclosed about a hundred log cabins. The garrison was made up of a hundred and twenty EngHsh soldiers and forty or more fur traders.

Within sight of the fort, just across the river, were the wigwams of three tribes of Indians. Pontiac, the great Indian chief, ruled these three tribes. This famous Ottawa chief, a cruel and crafty savage, was known far and wide for his bravery as a warrior and his skill as an orator.

During the long war the Indians had fought on the side of the French. They now had nobody to help them, and they thought the English would drive them from their hunting grounds.

The crafty chief, Pontiac, wished to take revenge on the EngUsh. He began a plot to destroy all the settlements on the Western frontier. For many months he had been sending messengers through the deep woods to all the Indian tribes, from Canada and the Great Lakes to the mouth of the Mississippi River.

The words of the wily chief had stirred the savages as never before, and they made ready to obey him. The sullen boom of the Indian drums and the wild chorus of their war songs were heard in a hundred villages, where the warriors danced their war dances round their camp fires. The war was to begin on the sixth day of May, 1763. Pontiac himself was to strike the first blow by destroying the fort at Detroit.

On the morning of the fifth of May the wife of a Canadian settler called at the fort to see Major Gladwyn, who was in command.

''I rowed across the river early this morning to buy some maple sugar," she said. "I saw some of the Indians cutting off the ends of their gun barrels. My husband says the redskins are up to some mischief. The blacksmith thinks so too, for they tried all last week to borrow his files and saws."

Major Gladwyn did not seem to be alarmed. He had often fought against the savages and had faith in his soldiers.

The settler's wife had hardly left the fort, when an old fur trader came in and begged Gladwyn to be on his guard.

In one of the Indian villages across the river lived a beautiful jib way girl who loved Major Gladwyn. On the afternoon of this same day she came to the fort to bring him a pair of moccasins.

The girl was sad and downcast. She soon left the room, but waited at the door.

''Why are you so sad, Catherine? What is the matter, my good girl?" asked the guard.

She would make no reply, but still did not go away.

''You must go home, Catherine," said a young officer. "It is almost time to shut the gate for the night."

Still the girl would not go.

The officer reported to his commander that something was wrong.

"Send the girl to me at once," said Major Gladwyn.

She returned to his room.

"Catherine, will you not tell me why you are sad? You have a secret. Tell it to me."

She only shook her head.

"Tell me the truth, Catherine," said the major. "Are the Indians getting ready to do us harm? Tell me. I will never betray your secret."

The Indian girl could no longer resist his coaxing.

To-morrow morning," she said, "Pontiac a I and sixty of his chiefs are coming to the fort to ask for a council. Each will be armed with a gun cut short and hid under his blanket. Pontiac will make a speech. He will then offer you a peace belt of wampum. As he gives it to you, he will reverse it. This will be the signal. The chiefs will spring up and kill you and the officers. The Indians outside will kill and scalp the fur traders and soldiers. Every Enghshman is to be put to death."

Without a moment's delay Major Gladwyn began his preparations. There was Uttle sleep for anybody.

Through the night came the wild chorus of Indian yeUs and the boom of Indian drums as Pontiac and his chiefs stirred the warriors to carry out his fiendish plans.

Early the next morning the open space behind the fort was filled with hundreds of warriors, squaws, and children, making ready to play baU. Tall warriors wrapped in their blankets stalked slowly to the big gate of the fort and were allowed to enter.

Every British regular in the garrison was under arms. The fur traders stood armed in the narrow streets.

In the middle of the forenoon Pontiac and his sixty chiefs were seen crossing the river in a fleet of canoes. They were wrapped to their chins in bright-colored blankets. Some had shaved their heads, leaving only the scalp locks on top. Others let their long black hair hang over their foreheads like a hon's mane. Their faces were daubed with paint.

When Pontiac stalked through the gate of the fort, he uttered a low cry of surprise. Within the gateway, on each side, two rows of British regulars were drawn up to receive him. At the corners of the streets stood the fur traders armed to the teeth. The tap of the drum was heard as Pontiac and his chiefs strode silently to the council house.

Major Gladwyn and his officers were waiting for them. Every man was in full uniform, with a pair of pistols at his belt and a sword at his side. With uneasy glances the crafty chiefs eyed each other. After some delay they sat down on the mats made ready for them.