At the request of a number of friends I attempt to give you a brief account of my incidents, very many of which it is not in my power to relate, having kept no journal,  I write entirely from memory which every day is growing more indistinct.
     I was born in the county of Hunterdon, State of New Jersey, on the 2d day of February, 1767.  While quite small, my father moved to Cumberland county, in said State, where I was raised, received my education, and where we had perilous times during the revolutionary struggle.  I was too young to take any part in it myself, but capable of noticing passing events.  I have known two companies to leave the house of worship during the service of one Sabbath to face the enemy.
     In the fall of 1787, I left my native State to seek my fortune in western wilds.  My first step was in Ohio county, State of Virginia, where I remained until the spring of 1790.  Part of the time farming, part of the time teaching school and part of the time I was among the rangers, stationed by the State of Virginia, at the old Mingo town, about eighteen or twenty miles above Wheeling.
     In May, 1790, I took passage on board of a flat-boat for Kentucky, and arrived at Limestone on the first night of June.  I got into a public house but was not able to procure food, fire or a bed or any other nourishment but whisky.  A number of us that had landed that evening spent the night sitting in the room which was a grand one for those days.  (Query what should we have done had the temperance laws existed at that time)?  There had, during the spring, been a great deal of mis___lef done on the river, but we saw no Indians.  There were, however, in company nineteen boats.  Major Parker, of Lexington, was our Admiral and Pilot.  During the summer of that year I taught school in what is now called Maysville.  During the winter of 1790 and '91.  I became acquainted with Nathaniel Massie, and in the spring of 1791 came to reside in his little fort in the then county of Hamilton, north-western territory.  At this time there was very little or no gospel in the territory and the usual mode of settling disputes was by a game of fisticuffs, and at the close, sometimes a part of a nose or ear would be missing.  A good stiff grog generally restored harmony and friendship.
     I am not sure whether it was the last of March or the first of April I came to the territory to reside; but on the night of the 21st of April, 1791, Mr. Massie and myself were sleeping together on our blankets for beds, when we had to move on the loft of our cabin to get out of the way of the flees and gnats.  Soon after lying down I began to dream of Indians and continued to do so through the night; however, whether Mr. Massie waked himself or wether I woke him, I cannot now say, but I observed to him, "I did not know what was to be the consequences for I had dreamed more about Indians that night than in all the time I had been in the Western country before."  As is common he made light of it and we dropped again to sleep.  He asked me the next morning if I would go with him up the river about four or five miles to make survey stating that William Lytle, who was then at the fort, was going along.   We were both young surveyors and were glad of the opportunity to practice.  Accordingly we three and James Lytle, of Kentucky, who was about buying the land, got on board of a canoe and was a long time going up, the river being very high at that time.  We commenced at the mouth of a creek which from that day to this has been called Donalson's creek.  We had progressed about one hundred and forty or one hundred and fifty poles when our chain broke or parted, but with the aid of a tomahawk, we soon repaired it.  We were then close to a large mound and were standing in a triangle and Lytie an myself were amusing ourselves, pointing out to Lytie the great conveniences he would have in building his house on that mound, when the one sanding with his face up the river, spoke and said, "boys there are Indians!"  "No," replied the other, "they are Frenchmen."  By this time I said, "they were Indians," and urged them to fire.  I had no gun and from the advantage we had did not think of running until they started.  The Indians wore in two small bark canoes and where close into the shore and discovered us, just at the instant we saw them and before I started to run I saw one jump on shore.  We took out through the bottom and before getting to the hill came to a spring branch.  I was in the rear and as I went to jump something caught my foot and I fell on the opposite side.  They were then so close I saw no chance of escape and did not offer a rise.  Three warriors first came and presented their guns all ready to fire, but as I made no resistance they took them down and one of them gave me his hand to help me up.  At this time Mr. Lytle was about a chain's length before me and threw away his hat, one of the Indians went forward and picked it up.  They then took me back to the mouth of the river and set me down while they put up their stuff and prepared for a march.  While sitting on the bank of the river, I could see the men walking about the block house on the Kentucky sh___, but they heard nothing of it, the Indians went on rapidly that ___ing and encamped on Eagle creek.  We started next morning early; it was raining hard, and one of them seeing my hat was somewhat convenient to keep off the rain took it off my head and put it on his own.  By this time I discovered some friendship in a very lusty Indian.  I think it was the one that first came up to me.  I made sign to him that one had taken my hat.  He went and took it off the other Indian's head and placed it again on mine, but we had not gone far before they took it again.  I complained as before, but my friend shook his head, took down and opened his budget and took a sort of a blanket cap out and put it on my head.
     We went on and still it rained hard and the waters were very much swollen, and when my friend discovered that I was timorous, he would lock his arm in mine and lead me through, and frequently in open woods when I would get tired, I would do the same thing with him and walk for miles.  They did not make my carry anything until Sunday or Monday.  They got into a thicket of game and killed, I think, two bears and some deer.  They then halted, "Jerked" their meat, ate a large portion, peeled some bark, made a kind of box, fitted it, and put it on me to carry.  I soon got tired of it and then set it down.  They raised a great laugh, examined my back, applied some bear's oil to it and then put on the box again.  I went on some distance and then threw

[Page 15]
it down again.  My friend then took it up threw it over his head and carried it.  It weighed, I thought, at least fifty pounds.
     While resting one day, one of the Indians broke up little sticks and laid them out in form of a fence, then took out a grain of corn, as carefully wrapped up as people use to wrap up guinies in olden times.  This they planted and called "Squaws," signifying to me that that would be my employment with the squaws.  But notwithstanding my situation at the time, I thought they would not eat much corn of y raising.
     On Tuesday, as we were traveling along, there came to us as a white man and an Indian on horseback.  They had a long talk, and when they rode off, the Indian I was with seemed considerably alarmed.  They immediately formed in Indian file, placed me in the centre and shook a war club over my head and showed me by gestures that if I attempted to run away, they would kill me.  We soon after arrived at the Shawnee camp, where we continued until late in the afternoon of the next day.
     During our stay there, they trimmed my hair to their own fashion, and put a jewel of tin in my nose, &c., &c.
     The Indians met with great formality when we came to the camp which was very spacious.  One side was entirely cleaned out for our use and the party I was with, passed the camp to my great mortilication, thinking they were going on.  But on getting to the further end they wheeled short around and came into the ramp.  They then sat down not uttering a whispher.  In a few minutes two of the oldest got up, went around, shook hands, came and sat down again.   Then the Shawnees, rising simultaneously, came and shook hands with them.  A few of the first shook me by the hand, but one refused and I did not offer my hand again, considering it no great honor.  Soon after a kettle of bear's oil and some crackers were set before us and we began eating.  They first chewing the meat then dipping it into the bear's oil, which I tried to be excused from, but they compelled me to it, which tried my stomach, although by this time hunger had compelled me to eat many a dirty morsel.
     Early in the afternoon an Indian came into the camp and was met by his party just outside, when they formed a circle and he spoke, I thought near an hour, and so profound was the silence that had there been a board floor I thought the fall of a pin might be heard.  I rightly judged of the disaster, for the day before I was taken, I was at Limestone and was solicited to join a party that was going

to the mouth of Snag creek, where some Indian canoes were discovered hid in the willows.  The party went and divided, some came over to the Indian shore and some remained in Kentucky, and they succeeded in killing nearly the whole party.
     There was at this camp two white men, one of whom could swear in English, but very imperfectly, having, I suppose, been taken young.  The other, who could speak good English, told me he was from South Carolina.  He told me different names, which I have forgotten, except that of Ward.  He asked me if I knew the Ward's that lived near Washington, Kentucky.  I told him I did, and wanted him to leave the Indians and go to his brothers and take me with him.  He told me he preferred staying with the Indians that he might rob the whites.  He and I had a great deal tof chat and disagreed in almost everything.  He told me they had taken a prisoner by the name of Towns that had lived near Washington, Kentucky, and that he had attempted to run away and they killed him.  But the truth was they had taken Timothy Downing the day before I was taken, in the neighborhood of Blue Licks and had got within four or five miles of their camp.  Night coming on, and it being very rainy, they concluded to camp.  There were but two Indians, an old chief and son; Downing watched his opportunity, got hold of a squaw's ax, and gave the fatal blow.  His object was to bring the young Indian in a prisoner.  He said he had been so kind to him he could not think of killing him.  But, the instant he struck his father, the young man sprang upon his back and confined him so it was with difficulty he extricated himself from his grasp.  Downing made then for his horse and the Indian for the camp.  The horse he caught and mounted, but not being a woodsman, struck the Ohio a little below the Scioto, just as a boat was passing.  They would not land for him, until he rode several miles and convinced them he was no decoy, and so close was the pursuit, that the boat had hardly gained the stream when the enemy appeared on shore.  He had severely wounded the young Indian in the scuffle, but did not know it, until I told him.  But to return to my own narrative, two of the party, viz. my friend and another Indian, turned back from this camp to do other mischief, and never before had I parted with a friend with the same regret.
      We left the Shawnee camp about the middle of the afternoon; they were under great excitement.  What detained them I know not, for they had a number of their horses up and their packs on from early in the morning.  I think that they had at least one hundred of the best horses that Kentucky could afford.  They calculated on being pursued and they were right, for the next day, the 28th of April, Major Kenton with about ninety men were at the camp before the fires were extinguished, and I have always believed it as a providential circumstance that the enemy had departed, as a defent on the part of the Kentuckians, would have been inevitable.  I never could get the Indians in a position to ascertain their precise number, but concluded there were sixty or upwards, as sprightly looking men as ever I saw together, and well equipped as they could wish, for the Major himself agreed with me that it was a happy circumstance that they were gone.
     We traveled that evening, I thought, seven miles, and encamped in the edge of a prairie, the water a short distance off.  Our supper that night consisted of a raccoon roasted undressed.  After this meal I became thirsty and the old warrior to whom my Friend had given me in charge directed another to go with me to the water, which made him angry.  He struck me and my nose bled.  I had a great mind to return the strike, but did not, I then determined, he the result what it might, I would go no further with them.  They tied me and laid me down as usual one, of them lying on the rope on each side of me.  They went to sleep and I to work knawing and picking the rope (made of bark) to pieces, but did not get loose until day was breaking.  I crawled off on my hands and feet to the edge of the prairie, and sat down on a log to put on my moccasins, and had put on one, and was preparing to put on the other, when they raised a yell and took the back trac, and I believe they made as much noise as twenty white men could do.  Had they been still they might have heard me, as I was not more than two chain's length from them at the time.  But I started and ran, carrying one moccasin in my hand, and in order to evade them chose the poorest ridges I could find, and when coming to tree-logs lying crosswise, would run along one and then along the other.  I continued on in that way until about ten o'clock.  Then, ascending a very poor ridge, crept in between two logs, and being very weary soon dropped asleep, and did not awaken until the sun was almost down.  I traveled on a short distance further and took lodging for the night in a hollow tree.  I think it was on Saturday that I got to the Miami.  I collected some logs, made a raft, by peeling bark and tying them together.  But I soon found that too tedious, and abandoned it.  I found a turkey's nest with two eggs in it, each one having a double yoke; they made me two delicious meals for different days.  I followed on the miami until I struck the Hamer's trace, made the previous fall, and continued on until I came to Fort Washington, now Cincinnati.  I think it was on Sabbath, the first day of May.  I caught a horse, tied a piece of bark around his under jaw, on which was a large tumor-like wart.  The bark rubbed that and he became restless and threw me, not hurting me much, however.  I caught him again and he again threw me, hurting me badly.  How long I lay insensible I don't know, but when I revived he was a considerable distance from me.  I then traveled on very slow, my feet entirely bare, and full of thorns and briars.  On Wednesday, the day I got in, I was so far gone that I thought it entirely useless to make any further exertion, not knowing what distance I was from the river.  I took my station at the root of a tree thoroughly despondent, and got into a state of sleeping, and either dreamt or thought that I should not be loitering away my time. However, the impression was so strong that I got up and walked on some distance.  I then took my station again as before and the same thought occupied my mind.  I got up and walked on  I had not traveled far before I thought I could see an opening for the river, and getting a little farther on I heard the sound of a bell.  I then started and ran (at slow speed undoubtedly).  A little further on, I began to percleve that I was coming to the river hill, and having got bout half way down I heard the sound of an axe, which was the sweetest music I had heard for many a day.  It was in the extreme out lot.  When I got to the lot I crawled over the fence with difficulty, it being so high.  I approached the person very cautiously until about a chain's length undiscovered.  I then stopped and spoke.  The person I spoke to was William Woodward, the founder of the Woodward High School.  Mr. Woodward looked up hastily, cast his eyes around and saw that I had no deadly weapon on; he then spoke, "In the name of God who are you?"  I told him I had been a prisoner and had made my escape from the Indians.  After a few more questions, he told me to come to him I did so.  Seeing my situation his fears soon subsided.  He told me to sit down on a log and he would go and catch a horse he had in the lot and take me in.  He caught his horse, set me on him, but kept the bridle in his own hand.  When we got into the road people began to enquire of Mr. Woodward, "who is he? and Indian?"  I was not surprised nor offended at the inquiries, for I was still in Indian uniform, and bare headed.  My hair was cut off close to the scalp, and fore top, which they had put up in a piece of tin, with a bunch of turkey feathres, which I could not undo.  They had also stripped off the feathers of about two turkeys and hung them on the hair of the scalp.  These had taken off the day I left them.  Mr. Woodward took me to his house, where very kindness was shown me.  They soon gave me other clothing.  Coming from different persons they did not fit me very neatly; but there could not be a pair of shoes got in the place that I could get on, my feet were so swollen.  But what surprised me most was when a pallet was made down before  the fire Mr. Woodward condescended to sleep with me.  The next day soon after breakfast Gen. Hamersent for me to come to the fort.  I would not go; a second message came.  I still refused.  At length Capt. Shamburg came; he pleased with me; told me I might take my own time and he would wait on me.  At length he told me if I would not go with him, the next day a file of men would be sent for, and I would then be compelled to go.  I went with him; he was as good as his word, and treated me very kindly.
     When I was ushered into the quarters of the Commander.  I found the room full of people waiting my arrival.  I knew none of them except Judge Symmes, and he did not know me, which was not surprising considering the fix I was in.  The General asked me a great many questions, and when he got through he asked me to take a glass of liquor, which was all the aid he offered. 

Meantime he had a mind to keep me in custody as a spy, which, when I heard it, raised my indignation.  To think that the Commander of an American army should have no more judgment, when his own eyes were witnessing that I could scarcely go alone.  I went out by his permission, and met Colonel Strong.  He asked me if I was such a person; I answered in the affirmative, and passed on.  In going out of the gate I met his son.  He recognized me at once, and after a few minutes chat he pulled a dollar out of his pocket and offered it to me, saying it was all he had by him, but when I wanted more to call on him.  I told him I did not think I should stand in need, people generally appeared so kind; but he insisted on my taking it, and I believe I brought it home with me, in the course of that day.
     I got down to the river and went into the store of Strong & Bartle, men that I had done business for previous to the campaign.  For three or four weeks I was busy asking out accounts and settlements.  My office was a smoke-house about six or eight feet square, but of boat materials, and stood I think a little above Main street.  In the course of the day Mr. Collin Campbell came in, and Bartle asked him "if he knew me."  He viewd me a considerable time, and answered no.  He then told him, but he could hardly believe him.  But when convinced, nothing would do but I must go home with him, to North Bend, that he might nurse me up and send me home.  We got down sometime in the night, and he had all his family get up and see what a queer man he had brought home.  After sometime we got to bed and next morning just after daylight he came up into my chamber, or rather a loft, and wakened me up.  I begged of him to let me lay a little longer.  No, I must get up, and he would have all who passed by to see me, and wherever he went I had to go.  I staid there about two weeks, gaining in health and strength every day.  About this time there was a contractor's boat coming up the river.  He hailed them, and made arrangement for me to go up with them; put up provisions for the trip, and done every thing that a near relative could have thought necessary.  About the time I left the Bend some of the citizens professed to believe me a spy, and said that if I did not leave there they would, and that I was only waiting a fair opportunity to bring the enemy in upon them.  As I did not want to break their peace, I thought it best to leave them.
     When I got on the boat I found two persons with whom I was well acquainted, and was treated very friendly.  Nothing particular occurred on the boat.  When we got up to Limestone I was greeted by almost every man, woman and child, particularly those who had been under my tuition.
     The Capt. Bartle above mentioned, was among the first settlers of Cincinnati.  I had not seen him for forty years, until we met on the 26th of December, 1838, the time the pioneers were invited to the half centennial celebration at Cincinnati.  We then met, and at his request lodged in the same room.  We parted the next day, never more to meet in this world.  He was ninety-four years of age, and has since paid his last debt.

CAPTURE OF ANDREW ELLISON.

     In the spring of 1793, the citizens of Manchester commenced clearing the out lots of the town, and while so engaged, an incident of much interest and excitement occurred.  Mr. Andrew Ellison, one of the settlers, cleared a lot immediately adjoining the fort.  He had completed the cutting of the timber, rolled the logs together and set them on fire.  The next morning, a short time before day break, Mr. Ellison opened one of the gates of the fort, and went out to throw the logs together.  By the time he had finished this job, a number of the heaps blazed up brightly, and as he was passing from one to the other, he observed, by the light of the fires, three men walking briskly towards him.  This did not alam him in the least although, he said they were dark-skilled fellows; yet he concluded they were the Wade's whose complexions were very dark, going early to hunt.  He continued to right his log heaps, until one of the fellows seized him by the arms, and called out in broken English: "How do; how do."  He instantly looked into their faces, and to his surprise and horror, fond himself in the clutches of three Indians.  To resist was useless.  He therefore submitted to his fate with out any resistance or attempt to escape.
    The Indians immediately moved off with him in the direction of Paint creek.  When breakfast was ready, Mrs. Ellison sent one of her children to ask their father home; but he could not be found at the log heaps.  His absence created no immediate alarm, as it was thought that he might have started to hunt after the completion of his work.  Dinner time arrived and Ellison not returning, the  family became uneasy, and began to suspect some accident had happened to him.  His gun rack was examined, and there hung his rifle and pouch in their usual place.  Massie raised a party and made a circuit around the place, and

[Page 16]
found, after some search, the trails of four men, one of whom had on shoes; and as Ellison had shoes on, the truth, that the Indians had made him a prisoner, was unfolded.  As it was almost night at the time the trail was discovered, the party returned to their station.  Next morning early, preparations were made by Massie and his party to pursue the Indians.  In doing this they found great difficulty, that it was so early in the spring that the vegetation was not of sufficient growth to show plainly the trail of the Indians, who took the precaution to keep on hard and high ground, where their teet could make little or no impression.  Massie and his party, however, were the unerring as a pack of well trained hounds, and followed the trail to Paint creek, then they found the Indians gained so fast on them, that pursuit was vain.  They therefore abandoned it, and returned to the station.
     The Indians took, their prisoner to Upper Sandusky, and compelled him to run the gauntlet.  As Ellison was a large man, and not very active, he received a severe flogging as he passed along the line.  From this place, he was taken to lower Sandusky, and was again compelled to run the gauntlet.  He was then taken to Detroit, where he was generously ransomed by a British officer for one hundred dollars.  He was shortly afterwards sent by his friend, the officer, to Montreal, from whence he returned home before the close of the summer of the same year.

DEATH OF ASAHEL EDGINGTON.

     Another incident connected with the station at Manchester occurred some time after this event, which we relate in this place.  John Edgington, Asahel, and another man, started out on a hunting expedition towards Brush creek.  They camped out six miles in a northeast direction from where West Union now stands, and near where Treber's tavern stood, on the road from Chillicothe to Maysville.  The Edgingtons had good success in hunting, having killed a number of deer and bears.  Of the deer killed, they saved the skins and hams, alone.  The bears they fleeced; that is, they cut off all the meat which adhered to the hide without skinning, and left the bones as a skeleton.  They hung up the proceeds of their hunt on a scaffold, out of the reach of the wolves and other wild animals, and returned home for pack horses.  No one returned to the camp with the two Edgingtons.  As it was late in December, no one apprehending danger, as the winter season was usually a time of repose from Indians incursions.  When the Edgingtons arrived at their old hunting camp, they alighted from their horses, and were preparing to strike a fire, when a platoon of Indians fired upon them, at the distance of not more than twenty paces.  Asahel Edgington fell to rise no more.  John  was more fortunate.  The sharp crack of the rifles, and the horrid yells of the Indians, as they leaped from their places of ambush, frightened the horses, who took the track towards home at full speed.  John Edgington was very active on foot, and now an occasion offered, which required his utmost speed.  The moment the Indians leaped from their hiding place, they threw down their guns and took after him.  They pursued him, screaming and yelling in the most horrid manner.  Edgington did not run a booty race.  For about a mile the Indians stepped in his tracks almost before the bending grass could rise.  The uplifted tomahawk was frequently so near his head that he thought he felt its edge.  Every effort was made to save his life, and every effort was made by the Indians to arrest his flight.  Edgington, who had the greatest stake in the race, at length began to gain on his pursuers, and after a long race, he distanced them, made his escape and safety reached home.  This, truly, was a most fearful and well contested race.  The big Shawnee chief, Captain John, who headed the Indians on this occasion, after peace was made and Chillicothe settled, frequently told of this race.  He said the white man who ran away was a smart fellow, that the "white man ran and I run, he ran and run, at last the white man ran clear off from me."