night, no little discouraged by their lack of success.

Meanwhile tidings of what Girty and his horde were about had
spread through the settlements, and relief parties were
hastily formed. At four o'clock in the morning fourteen men
arrived, under command of Colonel Swearingen, and fought
their way into the fort without losing a man. At dawn a
party of forty mounted men made their appearance, Major
McCullough at their head. The men managed to enter the fort
in safety, but the gallant major, being unluckily separated
from his band, was left alone outside.

His was a terribly critical situation. Fortunately, the
Indians knew him for one of their most daring and skillful
enemies, and hated him intensely. Fortunately, we say, for
to that he owed his life. They could easily have killed him,
but not a man of them would fire. Such a foeman must not die
so easily; he must end his life in flame and torture. Such
was their unspoken argument, and they dashed after him with
yells of exultation, satisfied that they had one of their
chief foes safely in their hands.

It seemed so, indeed. The major was well mounted, but the
swift Indian runners managed to surround him on three sides,
and force him towards the river bluffs, from which escape
seemed impossible.

With redoubled shouts they closed in upon him. The major,
somewhat ignorant of the situation, pushed onward till he
suddenly found himself on the brow of a precipice which
descended at an almost vertical inclination for a hundred
and fifty feet. Here was a frightful dilemma. To right and
left the Indian runners could be seen, their lines extending
to the verge of the cliff. What was to be done? surrender
to the Indians, attempt to dash through their line, or leap
the cliff? Each way promised death. But death by fall was
preferable to death by torture. And a forlorn hope of life
remained. The horse was a powerful one, and might make the
descent in safety. Gathering his reins tightly in his right
hand, while his left grasped his rifle, McCullough spurred
the noble animal forward, and in an instant was over the
brow of the cliff, and falling rather than dashing down its
steep declivity.

By unlooked-for good fortune the foot of the bluff was
reached in safety. Into the creek dashed horse and man, and
in a minute or two the daring fugitive was across and safe
from his savage pursuers.

The Indians returned disappointed to the vicinity of the
fort. Here they found that