he lead into bullets, cooled and loaded
the guns, and even, when the rush was made, assisted to repel it by
firing through the loopholes. After making a determined effort to storm
the stockade, in which some of the boldest warriors were slain while
trying in vain to batter down the gates with heavy timbers, the baffled
Indians were obliged to retire discomfited. The siege was chiefly
memorable because of an incident which is to this day a staple theme for
story-telling in the cabins of the mountaineers. One of the leading men
of the neighborhood was Major Samuel McColloch, renowned along the
border as the chief in a family famous for its Indian fighters, the
dread and terror of the savages, many of whose most noted warriors he
slew, and at whose hands he himself, in the end, met his death. When
Wheeling was invested, he tried to break into it, riding a favorite old
white horse. But the Indians intercepted him, and hemmed him in on the
brink of an almost perpendicular slope, [Footnote: The hill overlooks
Wheeling; the slope has now much crumbled away, and in consequence has
lost its steepness.] some three hundred feet high. So sheer was the
descent that they did not dream any horse could go down it, and instead
of shooting they advanced to capture the man whom they hated. McColloch
had no thought of surrendering, to die by fire at the stake, and he had
as little hope of resistance against so many foes. Wheeling short round,
he sat back in the saddle, shifted his rifle into his right hand, reined
in his steed, and spurred him over the brink. The old horse never
faltered, but plunged headlong down the steep, boulder-covered,
cliff-broken slope. Good luck, aided by the wonderful skill of the rider
and the marvellous strength and sure-footedness of his steed, rewarded,
as it deserved, one of the most daring feats of horsemanship of which we
have any authentic record. There was a crash, the shock of a heavy body,
half springing, half falling, a scramble among loose rocks, and the
snapping of saplings and bushes; and in another moment the awe-struck
Indians above saw their unharmed foe, galloping his gallant white horse
in safety across the plain. To this day the place is known by the name
of McColloch's leap. [Footnote: In the west this feat is as well known as
is Putnam's similar deed in the north.]

In Virginia and Pennsylvania the Indian outrages meant only the
harassing of the borderers; in Kentucky they threatened the com