Pioneer scouts of the Ohio

Front matter

By EVERETT T. TOMLINSON

SCOUTING ON THE OLD FRONTIER

STORIES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION

Preface

The story of the retreating frontier is one that never grows old. The romance of pioneer days, when the hardy people steadily pushed their way westward and founded new homes or felled the forests and developed their farms, shows how much better they builded than they knew. At the present time there is a fresh and renewed interest in all the romance of the pioneer period. The qualities that were de¬ manded then were not different from those required in every age and place to win success. Courage in meeting difficulty and danger, the willingness to endure hardships, the enterprise which was a necessary condition in leaving the old and founding the new, the facing of con¬ tinual peril from wild beasts and Indians, to say nothing of that which came from the prim¬ itive conditions, the resourcefulness that was perpetual in its demand,—all are qualities that to-day mark the successful man just as they did in the days long past.

The story of their journeys and of the ex¬ periences through which they passed is far v

PREFACE more fascinating than is the story which is purely fictitious. All the incidents incorporated in this tale are true. The writer has found them in the earlier records of Ohio. He has tried to present them in a story form that not only may interest his young readers but would also lead them on to further investigations of their own.

The heritage of the American boy and girl in the deeds of their heroic ancestors is one that should not likely be cast aside and should be known to all.

It is true also that the same qualifications that were necessary to found the new homes and to traverse and open the wilderness are not unlike those which are necessary to preserve the same homes which they established but which have come down to us. Indeed the writer is sometimes prone to think that greater hero¬ ism is required in preserving such a heritage than in originally establishing it. At all events, if the writer’s efforts to interest his readers and to induce them to place a proper valuation upon their heritage of which every young American should be proud, his labors will not have been in vain.

Everett T. Tomlinson

Elizabeth New Jersey

vi

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Trot Line.1

II. The Hunter’s Catch.15

CHAPTER I THE TROT LINE T AKE hold here and help.”

“I am taking hold! Pm doing my best. We must have six whales on this trot line.”

“Well, haul away! I’m doing my part.” Silence followed the brief conversation, while Ichabod and Benjamin Taylor bent to their task on the shore of the Muskingum River. The hour was early in the morning in a late October day in 1791. In the preceding evening the two brothers had carefully arranged their trot line and left it for the night in the water. This morning, when they rushed to the bank to discover what success their efforts had won, they were both excited when it speedily became evident that this time there was no question that a large number of fish had been hooked. 1

The trot line, consisting of one long line, to which various short lines with hooks had been attached, had all been baited before the long line had been carried far out into the river and anchored and left for the night.

This was a common method of fishing in the busy days of the early pioneers in southern Ohio. The streams abounded in fish, but so many were the tasks of the settlers and so hard the life they lived that fishing as a sport was a rare diversion. On the other hand, the food which the rivers and streams so easily pro¬ vided must be had and trot lines provided one of the easiest and not the least successful methods of catching the fish that abounded in these waters.

Ich and Ben, as the brothers were commonly known, had placed their rifles near by on the shore, ready for quick use. The times were troublesome, for the Indians had no welcome for the whites who were steadily encroaching upon their inherited territory. Then, too, the British and the Canadians were jealous over the boundary line of the newly formed United States of America. The citizens of this latter country were by no means willing that the Ohio River should form this boundary, for they be¬ lieved that much of the country far beyond its shores by right belonged to the sturdy people 2 who had so recently won their independence.

Ben and Ich Taylor in the preceding year had come with their father and their elder brother Phineas, and settled on a grant from the Ohio Company along the rich bottoms of the Muskingum River. So fertile had been the soil and so free was it from the growth of heavy timbers that were plainly to be seen farther back from the waters, that they had not even been compelled to clear their land of stumps. Mr. Taylor and his three sons had set fire to the brush that grew near the banks and, be¬ cause there were not many roots of dead bushes left in the dark rich soil, they had not even gone to the labor of plowing. With heavy hoes they had dug holes in the soft ground and planted their grain and also the few seeds of vegetables they had brought with them in their slow journey across the Allegheny Mountains.

The crops of the second year had already been harvested. Among the few scattered set¬ tlers in the vicinity, and any one who dwelt within twenty miles was called a * c neighbor ,’ 9 there was surprise at the abundance which had rewarded the labors of the four men who dwelt in the little log house, the home of Phin, Ich and Ben Taylor and their father.

Their mother, unable to endure the hardships of the long and slow journey from Massachu- 3 setts, had died before the family had crossed Pennsylvania. Her death, although it was a source of deep sorrow to her family, had not caused either Mr. Taylor or his boys to aban¬ don their project to obtain a new home in the promised land of Ohio. The Ohio Company, to which reference already has been made, had been organized with the consent of the gov¬ ernment and had purchased a vast extent of land which they were dividing among the settlers.

The land which Mr. Taylor and his boys ob¬ tained was perhaps the most fertile in that fertile region. They were counted among the more prosperous settlers, not only because of the rich soil of their section, but also because they had been so fortunate as to bring with them a yoke of oxen and two horses. Any set¬ tler who was the owner of four such animals was indeed wealthy in the eyes of his neighbors.

On this day when Ben and Ich had gone to the shore of the river to haul in their trot line, their father and their older brother Phin (who, having arrived at the mature age of eighteen, was already looked upon as one of the men of the region) had taken their two horses and set forth for the Salt Licks, as the Salt Springs were called. It was a long and difficult jour¬ ney and the labor of obtaining salt may be un- 4 derstood from the fact that they were com¬ pelled to boil down eight hundred gallons of salt water in order to obtain fifty pounds of salt, and yet salt was a necessity and somehow must be had. For this purpose, these two pioneers had set forth on their difficult and dangerous expedition. The Indians were no more cordial to the whites who visited the Salt Springs, which they declared to be their own, than they were to all settlers who made their homes in the land which the Red Men believed they had inherited from their fathers.

During the absence of Mr. Taylor and Phin, the younger boys had been told to set the trot line and clean and prepare the fish they might obtain for drying and curing. In spite of the crops the problem of food, especially of meat, for the long and dreary winter, was one for which preparation must be made before the snow filled the hollows or the ice covered the streams.

i( This is the biggest haul we’ve ever had!” shouted Ich in his excitement, as the water before them bubbled and boiled from the fran¬ tic movements of the fish and the weight of the heavy line steadily increased. Ben made no reply but renewed his exertions, as he braced himself and pulled harder upon the line.

Already some of tlie fish were clearly to be seen. Occasionally one broke above the sur¬ face of the water in a vain endeavor to escape. Relentlessly, however, the line was hauled ashore and at last the boys looked down upon the catch they had made.

There were fish of many kinds and sizes. Every one of the hooks which had been attached to the trot line held a victim. The living, squirming, struggling mass at last was hauled up on the shore and with a shout from Ich the two boys devoted themselves to the task of free¬ ing their victims.

A blow from a stout club was administered to every fish when it was taken from the hook. Perhaps this was not done from motives of sympathy so much as because Big Joe, the hunter, had told them the flesh of a fish killed immediately after it was caught was always sweeter than of one which had been permitted to die a lingering, gasping death.

When at last the labors of the boys were ended they stood for a moment gazing with pride upon the mass of flopping fish before them.

“Here’s a pike,” exclaimed Ben, “which has swallowed a perch that had taken the bait on one of the lines! The greedy rascal is caught in his own trap.”

“ We’ll soon attend to him. A pike will taste just as good next winter as a perch.’’

“Well, we’ve a fine job ahead of us. I don’t mind catching the fish nearly as much as I do cleaning them.”

“Before we do anything we ought to set that trot line again.”

“You’re right about that.”

Eagerly the boys rebaited the short lines and then Ben, who was the older, having arrived at the mature age of seventeen and who natu¬ rally as a consequence looked to Ich to obey orders, told his brother to take the canoe, draw the line and its “bobs” out into the stream and once more drop the tempting mass into the Muskingum.

Returning to the shore he joined Ben as the latter was bending over a rough plank which had been placed on the ground. Upon this the fish one by one were placed and quickly be¬ headed, then scraped and cleaned in such a manner that only the flesh, white and clean, was left.

The fish, as fast as they were prepared for the process that awaited them, were cast into a wooden bucket partly filled with water.

When at last the task of cleaning their catch was completed, the two boys next devoted them¬ selves to a thorough washing of the fish. The 7 flesh then was ready for the salt which Mr. Taylor and Phin were expected soon to pro¬ vide.

After they had been sorted, the fish were partly skinned and dried in the sunlight and then stored away for use when winter came. Many catches must be made before the full sup¬ ply for winter would be provided, for Mr. Tay¬ lor and his boys were generous to their less for¬ tunate neighbors who had settled farther back from the river, and provided part of the fish and meat which would serve them as food when the hardy settlers were held in their cabins by the wintry storms.

i ‘ That river is full of fish, ’ ’ declared Ich, who was quick and impulsive in his manner of speech and very different from his more serious-minded older brother Ben.

The latter was short and fat. No amount of teasing ever served to ruffle Ben’s temper, while Ich’s temper required no ruffling at all. Ap¬ parently he held plenty of it on tap. Indeed, he had declared to his father that it was a mis¬ take to say that he was always “losing” his temper when the fact was that he never “lost” it at all, for his temper was always with him. It was Ben who apparently had lost his temper, for he seldom displayed any signs of anger. Only once throughout their boyhood could Ich 8 recall a time when Ben had become so angry that he lost control of himself. That occasion, however, was one which Ich well remembered and caused him to be somewhat more guarded in his dealings with his brother than previously he had been.

And now it was Ben who was the undemon¬ strative, quiet leader and Ich who was very much like an audience that shouted its applause.

‘ 1 Look yonder,” exclaimed Ich suddenly, as he pointed toward the forest. 41 There comes Big Joe.”

Big Joe, a young man about twenty-four years of age, was a well-known hunter through¬ out southern Ohio. He had never settled down to develop a section of land, for the call of the hunter and fisher was ever foremost in his interest. If he had a home anywhere in the region he had not told of its location. He was a frequent visitor at the Taylor cabin which he had helped to build. He had worked steadily, felling and shaping the timbers which the oxteam hauled to the bank of the river. Timbers only had been used in the construction of the little house and Big Joe, an expert in the task, had shown the newcomers how the logs were to be fitted and adjusted, and had shaped the few hickory “pins” which had been used to hold certain of the beams in place. When this task 9 had been completed Big Joe with his rifle had departed, very likely not to be seen again for many weeks.

He was a welcome visitor, however, whenever he felt moved to return. His sturdy frame, his skill as a marksman, his quiet manners, all combined to make him popular with the Tay¬ lors. He had taught each of the boys how to use his rifle and occasionally, on days never to be forgotten, had taken one of the lads in his canoe when he had “gone fishing. ,,

His skill as a fisherman was not less than as a hunter. In recent months, Big Joe had sel¬ dom been seen in the cabin because the increas¬ ing troubles with the Indian tribes and the lack of success of the white soldiers in subdu¬ ing them had greatly increased the peril of the pioneers. Blockhouses already had been erected in various places and from several of these spies or rangers went forth daily to scour the surrounding region in search of evidences of the presence of the dreaded Shawnees or Delawares.

In all there were seven tribes in the region, all of whom were bitterly opposing the en¬ croachments by the whites and now were doubly dangerous because of their success in driving back the armed forces which had been sent to subdue them. The visit of Big Joe, lo therefore, might be one to warn of peril or it might be simply a friendly call, if the hunter had obtained a day or two of release from his regular tasks.

Both Ben and his brother were silent as they watched the coming of Big Joe. The confi¬ dence and pride of both boys in the prowess of their visitor was manifest in the very manner with which they waited for him to draw near. Big Joe was dressed in deer skin. Leggings, lined with fringe, adorned each leg and his hat of coon skin increased the impression of his belonging to the whites.

Quietly the hunter drew near and bringing his rifle to the ground leaned forward and rested upon it as he looked keenly into the faces of his two young friends.

“Where’s your dad!” he inquired brusquely, glancing quickly from one boy to the other.

‘‘Gone for salt,” spoke up Ich quickly.

“When ’ll he be back!”

“ ’Most any time,” said Ben.

“What’s wrong!” demanded the younger boy. “Have you come to tell us that we must run for our lives the way you did the last time you were here! Are the redskins at their same old game!”

Ignoring the questions of the eager boy, the hunter glanced at the fish which the boys had 11 prepared for salting and said, “Get those on your trot line?”

“That’s what we did!” spoke up Ich promptly. “And we’ve set it again.”

The hunter said, “I got a big black cat the other day.”

“What’d it weigh?” inquired Ich.

“Ninety-six pounds.”

The “cat” was a catfish of which there were two varieties in the Muskingum and Ohio. One was known as the black cat and the other as the yellow. The black cat grew to be the larger, although catches of the yellow cats that weighed fifty to sixty pounds each were not un¬ common. The weight of the black cat to which Big Joe referred was greater than any of which the pioneer boys had heard.

“What’d you say? How much?” demanded Ich quickly.

“I said ninety-six pounds,” answered the hunter quietly. “That’s what the steelyards showed. ’ ’

“You must have stuffed it full of rocks and jammed in all the other fish you caught to make it weigh that much,” laughed Ich.

“That was exactly what the fish weighed,” replied Big Joe solemnly. “We didn’t want to weigh the whole of Ohio.”

“But ninety-six pounds! I don’t believe I 12 weigh more than a hundred and thirty-five my¬ self/’

“Probably not,” replied the hunter dryly. “The fish was most as big as you and a power¬ ful sight stronger.”

Ben smiled as his brother flushed at the hunter’s words and said, “Tell us about it. Where’d you get it?”

“About five miles up the river,” explained the hunter. “I went out in a canoe, baited up and then let out my line and floated down the stream. I was dead tired because I’d been up two nights a-runnin’. Finally, when I didn’t get a bite, I stretched out in the canoe after I had wound my fish line around my leg, and the first thing I knew, I went to sleep.”

“Ha! Ha!” laughed Ich, “I know the rest of the story. The big cat grabbed your hook and tipped over your canoe. When you saw him you probably thought he was the fish that came after Jonah.”

“No, that wasn’t the way,” continued the hunter quietly. “I drifted, I don’t know how long or how far, but I must have gone a mile or more and then all at once I had a tremendous yank on my left leg. You can believe me that I sat up pretty quick. At first I didn’t know just what had happened but pretty soon it all came back to me and then I was in for a fight.

It took me more’n an hour to tire that big cat out. I let him work upstream and down¬ stream, and pulled on him only when he’d go for the bottom and try to sulk there, then I’d let him know that I had hold of him and off: he’d start again. He sure did give me a pretty sail. When I had him all tuckered out, I had worked my way pretty close in shore and when I saw I had him well hooked I landed him, but he did give me a fight. ’ ’

“Do you suppose there are any more out there?” demanded Ich quickly.

“I suppose there be, though that’s the big¬ gest one I ever ketched. I don’t know as I ever heard of a bigger.”

“That’s big enough,” said Ben.

“No, sir,” spoke up Ich. “When I go out I want to get the biggest one in the river. I’d like to show Phin when he comes back what I can do. He thinks just because he’s eighteen years old and I am only fifteen that he’s a big man and I am only a cub. I’d like to get a cat that weighs a hundred pounds.”

The conversation was halted, however, as a prolonged scream of terror came from beyond the rude little log barn. The sound was re¬ peated and, seizing their guns, the hunter and the two boys ran swiftly in the direction from which the startling sound had been heard.

CHAPTER n

I T’S the hog-pen!” exclaimed Ich in an awed voice, as the speed of the runners increased.

“Yes, it’s the hogs,” acknowledged Ben, as he looked eagerly forward toward the place from which the terrifying squeals were heard.

The sounds were still rising and it was evi¬ dent to all three that the animals were in mortal terror.

As the runners darted around the corner of the log barn the hog-pen was directly before them. Prowling around the pen were two lean, gaunt wolves. At the sight of the approaching men, one of the savage animals turned and baring its teeth snarled at the boys. The other wolf, instantly aware of its peril, turned quickly and like a streak of light darted into the nearby forest.

Big Joe quickly had brought his gun to his shoulder and fired. His example was instantly followed by the boys whose shots rang out to¬ gether.

The nearer wolf, emitting one long howl, top¬ pled to the ground and lay still.

‘ ‘ Look out for yourselves/’ warned the hunter as he cautiously approached the place where the beast was lying. “You never can tell about these fellows. Sometimes you think they’re dead when they’re really far from it.”

A moment later when they drew near to the place where the wolf was lying, the hunter said, “He’s dead. There isn’t any question about that. ’ ’

“We’ll have to save his skin,” said Ich ex¬ citedly. “What’s the bounty now, Big Joe?”

“Four dollars for every pelt.”

“That’s an easy way to earn four dollars,” laughed Ich in his excitement.

“The question is, who shot the wolf?” said the hunter dryly. “Let’s look at him and see how many hit him.”

An examination speedily revealed three wounds in the gaunt body. One rifle bullet had penetrated the skull, one had passed through the body, while the third showed that the wolf had been hit in the foreleg.

“We’d better skin the brute right away,” suggested the hunter. “We’ve got plenty to do before the day is done.”

The other wolf having fled, there was noth¬ ing to be gained by an attempt to follow it.

Accordingly, Big Joe and Ben, taking their knives, instantly began the task of skinning the dead wolf whose body was still warm. Mean¬ while the hogs, of which there were six in the pen, had stopped their squealing and ap¬ parently were convinced that they were safe now that the hunter and the boys had come to their rescue.

“It's great,” said Big Joe, as he drew back the pelt from the body of the wolf, “how those hogs will defend themselves sometimes when they are attacked in the open by the wolves.”

“What’ll they do?” inquired Ben.

“They’ll form a circle,” replied the hunter, “and put the weak fellows and the little ones inside and then the old ones will fight from the outside of the circle. They can put up a good fight, too. I saw a wolf not long ago that showed where its skin had been ripped for more than a foot by the tusks of some mad porker. Yes, sir, they put up a stiff fight. You boys ought to fix this pen so that it’ll be wolftight.”

i ‘ What do you mean ? ’ ’ inquired Ich. ‘ ‘ What can we do ? ”

“You ought to put logs across the top of it. No wolf can scratch through these logs as they are here, but he can crawl up to the top and drop down inside and get just as many hogs 17 as he wants. You ought to put some logs across the top.”

“That’s what we’ll do,” said Ben. 1 ‘Just as soon as we get through with our fish we’ll attend to it.”

“It’s strange how all the varmints seem to take to the hogs. Last winter I followed the track of a painter that had lifted a big hog and carried it so that the body didn’t once touch the snow for more than three hundred feet.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Ich.

“Well, I mean that he just held the hog up in his jaws and didn’t drag the body at all.”

“I knew they were fearfully strong but I didn’t believe that they could take a hog and carry it without dragging it.”

“This fellow did,” explained the hunter, “and the porker must have weighed one hun¬ dred seventy-five pounds.”

“Did you see it?” inquired Ben.

“Yes, as I was telling yo’, I found the porker where the painter had hidden him. He dug in the snow which was about six inches deep and made a hole right near a log, then he covered up the carcass and left it, expecting to come back for it when he was a little hungrier than he happened to be at that time. But two of us got on his trail, found him covered in a 18 big oak tree and shot him while he was crouch¬ ing on one of the long branches.”

“I’d like to shoot a painter,” exclaimed Ben excitedly.

* ‘ Maybe you will some day, ’ ’ said the hunter. “You have to be mighty keerful because the painters ’most always go in pairs and, while you are getting one, the other is doing his best to get you. ’ ’

The task of skinning the wolf was completed by this time and taking the pelt the boys re¬ turned to the place where they had been clean¬ ing the fish they had taken with their trot lines.

“How are we going to divide this bounty?” inquired Ben when they had arrived at the bank of the river.

“I reckon we won’t quarrel very long over that,” said the hunter laughing quietly as he spoke.

“Let me see,” said Ich. “If the bounty is four dollars how much will that be for each one f’ ’

“I don’t want any bounty,” said the hunter. “I’ll leave that for you two boys. You can divide it between you. ’ ’

“That’s mighty good of you, Big Joe,” said Ben quickly. “We don’t want to be hogs. The wolves may get after us if we try any of the hog’s tricks.”

PIONEEE SCOUTS OF THE OHIO

“It’s yours,” said the hunter quietly. “I understand the Ohio Company is adding a bit to the bounty so that you may get a little more than four dollars. I hope so. Boys,” he added, “ while you r re working on the fish I think I ’ll take my skiff and go out on the river and see what I can do for a pike.”

Both boys looked at him longingly, for each was eager to accompany Big Joe who was as skillful a fisherman as he was a hunter. Never¬ theless both were aware that the task of pre¬ paring the fish was not yet entirely completed. A tub was brought from the house and filled with clean water. While the boys were arrang¬ ing their catch in this receptacle both were quietly watching Big Joe. He had pushed his skiff off toward a shoal about twenty feet from the bank where he began his task. A big hook and line was cast over the side and in a moment the hunter had drawn on board a chub that weighed at least a quarter of a pound. The hunter lifted the fish and looked at it carefully and then with an exclamation of disgust tossed it up on the shore. Again he cast overboard his hook and line and soon was drawing on board another chub. This fish weighed at least a half pound more and apparently fitted the plan of the hunter.

Removing his catch from the hook he ad- 20 justed it to another larger hook and then moved his skiff farther out into the river. After he had gone fifty feet nearer the channel he an¬ chored and then, taking the large bait which he had secured, hooked it and cast it far out over the water. At once he began to pull rapidly on his line so that the chub was raised to the surface of the river and seemed to he leaping and jumping as if it were trying to escape the pursuit of some huge fish.

The first try which the hunter made did not bring any results. Once more Big Joe arose in the canoe and, swinging his bait about his head, cast it still farther out into the waters of the river. Again he drew swiftly on his line, pulling hand over hand, and once more the big chub arose to the surface and seemed to be do¬ ing its utmost to escape some ravenous enemy.

This time, however, when Big Joe had drawn in less than half his line, there was a sudden commotion in the water and the bait was seized. A moment later Big Joe glanced for a moment at the shore and shouted to the watching boys, “I've got the grandfather of all the pike in the Muskingum. Hi, there, just watch me!"