ort, prowling in the thick
underbrush and hidden by the great trees, there lay in ambush a band of
painted warriors, hungry for plunder, eager for scalps.

They creep forward to their attack. They are very cautious, for a bright
moon lights up the blockhouses and the palisaded fort.

Suddenly a moving shadow falls upon the moonlit clearing outside the fort.
An Indian is stealthily crossing from the dark woods to the wall. There he
crouches close, to be out of sight of the inmates of the fort. Another
crouching figure, and another. One by one every feathered warrior crosses
and keeps close to the palisade.

The next move is to slide cautiously the strong bar and undo the chain
which fastens the gate. It is done skilfully enough, but the chain clanks
or the hinges creak. The wakeful Robertson springs quickly to his feet.
His keen eyes catch sight of the swift, dark figures, moving stealthily
into the fort.

"Indians!" he shouts, and off goes his rifle. Instantly every settler has
snatched the gun lying at his side. In a second the shots ring out; and
the Indians flee through the gate to disappear into the leafy woods. But
they have lost one man, whom Robertson has shot, and have killed or
wounded three or four of the settlers. Robertson, by keen watchfulness,
has saved the fort from capture and his comrades from probable torture or
death.

This was only one of many occasions in which Robertson's leadership saved
the day. After the Revolution ended (1783) the Indians were not so
unfriendly, for the English were no longer paying them for scalps. People,
therefore, became less timid about crossing the mountains, and a large
number migrated from Virginia and North Carolina to the Tennessee
settlement and made their homes at Nashville. As numbers grew larger,
dangers became less.

By this time Robertson had become well known through the successful
planting of his two settlements, and for the wisdom and bravery with which
he managed them. As a reward for his valuable services, Washington later
on (1790) made him a general in the army. In 1814 he died.

He is the kind of man we like to think of as a pioneer in the making of
our history. Sturdy and self-reliant, strong and fearless, he cheerfully
faced the unending struggle with the hard conditions of those early days.
Though his life was narrow, it cut deep in its loyalty to friends and
country.

SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT

1. What can you tell of Robertson's boyhoo