not only
willing, but anxious to accompany their captors. The prisoners set off
with such apparent willingness on the journey, that the Indians did
not think it necessary to bind them, but permitted them to procure
wood and water. They had been captives eleven days without finding a
favorable opportunity for escape, but on arriving at a deserted hut at
this point, the captives were sent to cut wood a few rods distant,
using for this purpose an ax belonging to one of the prisoners. On
such occasions, usually one cut and the other carried to the camp
fire; but this time, while Cowley was chopping, and Sawyer waiting for
an armful, the latter took from his pocket a newspaper, and pretended
to read its contents to his fellow, but really proposed a plan for
regaining their liberty. After procuring a sufficient quantity of
wood, and partaking of a scanty supper, they laid down for the night
as usual, a prisoner between two Indians. When the Indians were sound
asleep, the prisoners arose, secured the guns, shaking the priming
from them, Sawyer securing the tomahawk of Han Yerry, and Cowley the
ax. At a given signal, the blows descended, and the weapons sank deep
into the brain of their victims, but unfortunately, Sawyer in
attempting to free his weapon from the skull, drew the handle from its
socket. These two Indians were killed, but the noise awoke the others,
who instantly sprung to their feet; as Seth's Henry arose, he received
a blow partially warded off by his right arm, but his shoulder was
laid open and he fell back stunned; the fourth, as he was about to
escape, received a heavy blow in the back from the ax; he fled to a
swamp near by and died. On returning to the hut and consulting as to
what course they should pursue, Seth's Henry, who had recovered, but
feigned death, again sprang to his feet, caught his rifle and snapped
it at one of the prisoners, ran out of the hut and disappeared. The
two friends primed the remaining guns and kept vigilant watch until
daylight to guard against surprise. They set out in the morning to
return, but did not dare to pursue the route they came, very properly
supposing there were more of the enemy in the vicinity, to whom the
surviving Indian would communicate the fate of his comrades. They
re-crossed the river in a bark canoe which they had used the preceding
afternoon, and then directed their course for the frontier
settlements. On the first night, Cowley, carried away by the
excite