The Perils Of The Wilderness

On the 31st day of October, in the year 1753, a young man,

whose name was as yet unknown outside the colony of

Virginia, though it was destined to attain world-wide fame,

set out from Williamsburg, in that colony, on a momentous

errand. It was the first step taken in a series of events

which were to end in driving the French from North America,

and placing this great realm under English control,--the

openi g movement in the memorable French and Indian War. The

name of the young man was George Washington. His age was

twenty-one years. He began thus, in his earliest manhood,

that work in the service of his country which was to

continue until the end.



The enterprise before the young Virginian was one that

needed the energies of youth and the unyielding perseverance

of an indefatigable spirit. A wilderness extended far and

wide before him, partly broken in Virginia, but farther on

untouched by the hand of civilization. Much of his route lay

over rugged mountains, pathless save by the narrow and

difficult Indian trails. The whole distance to be traversed

was not less than five hundred and sixty miles, with an

equal distance to return. The season was winter. It was a

task calculated to try the powers and test the endurance of

the strongest and most energetic man.



The contest between France and England for American soil was

about to begin. Hitherto the colonists of those nations had

kept far asunder,--the French in Canada and on the great

lakes; the English on the Atlantic coast. Now the English

were feeling their way westward, the French

southward,--lines of movement which would touch each other

on the Ohio. The touch, when made, was sure to be a hostile

one.



England had established an "Ohio Company,"--ostensibly for

trade, really for conquest. The French had built forts,--one

at Presque Isle, on Lake Erie; one on French Creek, near its

head-waters; a third at the junction of French Creek with

the Alleghany. This was a bold push inland. They had done

more than this. A party of French and Indians had made their

way as far as the point where Pittsburgh now stands. Here

they found some English traders, took them prisoners, and

conveyed them to Presque Isle. In response to this, some

French traders were seized by the Twightwee Indians, a tribe

friendly to the English, and sent to Pennsylvania. The touch

had taken place, and it was a hostile one.






Major Washington--he had been a Virginian adjutant-general,

with the rank of major, since the age of nineteen--was

chosen for the next step, that of visiting the French forts

and demanding the withdrawal of their garrisons from what

was claimed to be English territory. The mission was a

delicate one. It demanded courage, discretion, and energy.

Washington had them all. No better choice could have been

made than of this young officer of militia.



The youthful pioneer proceeded alone as far as

Fredericksburg. Here he engaged two companions, one as

French, the other as Indian, interpreter, and proceeded.

Civilization had touched the region before him, but not

subdued it. At the junction of Will's Creek with the Potomac

(now Cumberland, Maryland), he reached the extreme outpost

of civilization. Before him stretched more than four hundred

miles of unbroken wilderness. The snow-covered Alleghanies

were just in advance. The chill of the coming winter already

was making itself felt. Recent rains had swollen the

streams. They could be crossed only on log-rafts, or by the

more primitive methods of wading or swimming,--expedients

none too agreeable in freezing weather. But youth and a

lofty spirit halt not for obstacles. Washington pushed on.



At Will's Creek he added to his party. Here he was joined by

Mr. Gist, an experienced frontiersman, who knew well the

ways of the wilderness, and by four other persons, two of

them Indian traders. On November 14 the journey was resumed.

Hardships now surrounded the little party of adventurers.

Miles of rough mountain had to be climbed; streams, swollen

to their limits, to be crossed; unbroken and interminable

forests to be traversed. Day after day they pressed onward,

through difficulties that would have deterred all but the

hardiest and most vigorous of men. In ten days they had

accomplished an important section of their journey, and

reached those forks of the Ohio which were afterwards to

attain such celebrity both in war and peace,--as the site of

Fort Duquesne and of the subsequent city of Pittsburgh.



Twenty miles farther on the Indian settlement of Logstown

was reached. Here Washington called the Indian chiefs

together in conference. The leading chief was known as

Tanacharison (Half-King), an Indian patriot, who had been

much disturbed by the French and English incursions. He had

been to the French forts. What he had said to their

commanders is curious, and worthy of being quoted:



"Fathers, I am come to tell you your own speeches; what your

own mouths have declared. Fathers, you in former days set a

silver basin before us, wherein was the leg of a beaver, and

desired all the nations to come and eat of it,--to eat in

peace and plenty, and not to be churlish to one another; and

that, if any person should be found to be a disturber, I

here lay down by the edge of the dish a rod, which you must

scourge them with; and if your father should get foolish in

my old days, I desire you may use it upon me as well as

others. Now, fathers, it is you who are the disturbers in

this land, by coming and building your towns, and taking it

away unknown to us, and by force....



"Fathers, I desire you may hear me in civilness; if not, we

must handle that rod which was laid down for the use of the

obstreperous.... Fathers, both you and the English are

white; we live in a country between; therefore, the land

belongs to neither one nor the other. The Great Being above

allowed it to be a place of residence for us; so, fathers, I

desire you to withdraw, as I have done our brothers the

English: for I will keep you at arms' length. I lay this

down as a trial for both, to see which will have the

greatest regard for it, and that side we will stand by, and

make equal sharers with us. Our brothers, the English, have

heard this, and I now come to tell it to you; for I am not

afraid to discharge you off this land."



The poor Half-King was to find that he had undertaken a task

like that of discharging the wolves out of the sheep-cote.

The French heard his protest with contempt, and went on

building their forts. He thereupon turned to the English,

whom he, in the simplicity of his heart, imagined had no

purpose save that of peaceful trade. His "fathers" had

contemned him; to his "brothers" he turned in amity.



Washington told his purposes to his dusky auditors. He had

come to warn the French intruders off the Indian lands. He

desired a guide to conduct him to the French fort, one

hundred and twenty miles distant. His statement pleased the

Indians. Their English "brothers" were in sympathy with

them. They would help them to recover their lands. The

generosity of their white brothers must have seemed highly

meritorious to the simple savages. They had yet to learn

that the French and the English were the two millstones, and

they and their lands the corn to be ground between.



The Half-King, with two other chiefs (Jeskakake and White

Thunder by name), volunteered to guide the whites. A hunter

of noted skill also joined them. Once more the expedition

set out. The journey was a terrible one. Winter had set in;

rain and snow fell almost unceasingly; the forest was next

to impassable; great were their toils, severe their

hardships. On December 5 they reached the French outpost at

Venango (now Franklin), where French Creek joins the

Alleghany. Here they were met by Captain Joncaire, the

French commandant, with a promising show of civility.

Secretly, however, the astute Frenchman sought to rob

Washington of his Indians. Fortunately, the aborigines knew

the French too well to be cajoled, and were ready to

accompany Washington when he set out on his remaining

journey. Their route now led up French Creek to Fort Le

Boeuf, on the head-waters of that stream. This they reached

on the 12th, after a wearisome experience of frontier

travel. Forty-one days had passed since Washington left

Williamsburg.



The commandant here was M. de St. Pierre, an elderly man, of

courteous manners, a knight of the order of St. Louis. He

received Washington cordially, treated him with every

hospitality while in the fort, did everything except to

comply with Governor Dinwiddie's order to leave the works.



Washington's instruction were conveyed in a letter from the

governor of Virginia, which asserted that the lands of the

Ohio and its tributaries belonged to England, declared that

the French movements were encroachments, asked by whose

authority an armed force had crossed the lakes, and demanded

their speedy departure from English territory.



St. Pierre's reply was given in a sealed letter. It declared

that he was a soldier, his duty being to obey orders, not to

discuss treaties. He was there under instructions from the

governor of Canada, here he meant to stay. Such was the

purport of the communication. The tone was courteous, but in

it was no shadow of turning.



While the Frenchman was using the pen, Washington was using

his eyes. He went away with an accurate mental picture of

the fort, its form, size, construction, location, and the

details of its armament. His men counted the canoes in the

river. The fort lay about fifteen miles south of Lake Erie.

A plan of it, drawn by Washington, was sent to England.



At the time fixed for their return, Washington found the

snow falling so fast that he decided to make his journey to

Venango by canoe, the horses, which they had used in the

outward journey, being forwarded through the forest with

their baggage. St. Pierre was civil to the last. He was as

hospitable as polite. The canoe was plentifully stocked with

provisions and liquors. But secretly artifices were

practised to lure away the Indians. The Half-King was a man

whose friendship was worth bidding for. Promises were made,

present were given, the Indians were offered every advantage

of friendship and trade.



But the Half-King was not to be placated by fine words. He

knew the French. Delay was occasioned, however, of which

Washington complained, and hinted at the cause.



"You are certainly mistaken, Major Washington," declared the

polite Frenchman. "Nothing of the kind has come to my

knowledge. I really cannot tell why the Indians delay. They

are naturally inclined to procrastinate, you know.

Certainly, everything shall be done on my part to get you

off in good time."



Finally, the Indians proving immovable in their decision,

the party got off. The journey before them was no pleasure

one, even with the advantage of a water-route, and a canoe

as a vehicle of travel. Rocks and drifting trees obstructed

the channel. Here were shallows; there, dangerous currents.

The passage was slow and wearisome, and not without its

perils.



"Many times," says Washington, "all hands were obliged to

get out, and remain in the water half an hour or more in

getting over the shoals. At one place the ice had lodged and

made it impassable by water, and we were obliged to carry

our canoe across a neck of land a quarter of a mile over."



In six days they reached Venango, having journeyed one

hundred and thirty miles by the course of the stream. The

horses had preceded them, but had reached the fort in so

pitiable a condition as to render them hardly fit to carry

the baggage and provisions. Washington, Mr. Gist, and Mr.

Vanbraam, the French interpreter, clad in Indian walking

costume, proceeded on foot, the horses following with their

drivers. After three days' journey the poor animals had

become so feeble, the snow so deep, the cold so severe, that

Washington and Gist determined to push forward alone,

leaving Mr. Vanbraam as leader of the remainder of the

party.



Gun in hand, and knapsack--containing his food and

papers--on back, the intrepid explorer pushed forward with

his companion, who was similarly equipped. Leaving the path

they had been following, they struck into a straight trail

through the woods, purposing to reach the Alleghany a few

miles above the Ohio.



The journey proved an adventurous one. They met an Indian,

who agreed to go with them and show them the nearest way.

Ten or twelve miles were traversed, at the end of which

Washington grew very foot-sore and weary. The Indian had

carried his knapsack, and now wished to relieve him of his

gun. This Washington refused, whereupon the savage grew

surly. He pressed them to keep on, however, saying that

there were Ottawa Indians in the forest, who might discover

and scalp them if they lay out at night. By going on they

would reach his cabin and be safe.



They advanced several miles farther. Then the Indian, who

had fallen behind them, suddenly stopped. On looking back

they perceived that he had raised his gun, and was aiming at

them. The next instant the piece was discharged.



"Are you shot?" cried Washington.



"No," answered Gist.



"After this fellow, then."



The Indian had run to the shelter of a large white oak,

behind which he was loading as fast as possible. The others

were quickly upon him, Gist with his gun at his shoulder.



"Do not shoot," said Washington. "We had best not kill the

man, but we must take care of him."



The savage was permitted to finish his loading, even to

putting in a ball, but his companions took good heed to give

him no further opportunity to play the traitor. At a little

run which they soon reached they bade the Indian to make a

fire, on pretence that they would sleep there. They had no

such intention, however.



"As you will not have him killed," said Gist, "we must get

him away, and then we must travel all night."



Gist turned to the Indian. "I suppose you were lost, and

fired your gun," he said, with a transparent affectation of

innocence.



"I know the way to my cabin," replied the Indian "It is not

far away."



"Well, then, do you go home. We are tired, but will follow

your track in the morning. Here is a cake of bread for you,

and you must give us meat in the morning."



The savage was glad enough to get away. Gist followed and

listened, that he might not steal back on them. Then they

went half a mile farther, where they made a fire, set their

compass, and, after a short period of rest, took to the

route again and travelled all night.



The next night they reached the Alleghany. Here they were

destined to experience a dangerous adventure. They had

expected to cross on the ice, but the river proved to be

frozen only for a short distance from the shores. That night

they slept with the snow for a bed, their blankets for a

covering. When dawn appeared the same dubious prospect

confronted them. The current of the river still swept past,

loaded with broken ice.



"There is nothing for it but a raft," said Washington. "And

we have but one hatchet to aid us in making it. Let us to

work."



To work they fell, but it was sunset before the raft was

completed. Not caring to spend another night where they

were, they launched the raft and pushed from shore. It

proved a perilous journey. Before the stream was half

crossed they were so jammed in the floating ice that it

seemed every moment as if their frail support would sink,

and they perish in the swift current. Washington tried with

his setting-pole to stop the raft and let the ice run by.

His effort ended unfortunately. Such was the strength of the

current that the ice was driven against the pole with a

violence that swept him from his feet and hurled him into

water ten feet deep. Only that chance which seems the work

of destiny saved him. He fell near enough to the raft to

seize one of its logs, and after a sharp scramble was up

again, though dripping with icy water. They continued their

efforts, but failed to reach either shore, and in the end

they were obliged to spring from their weak support to an

island, past which the current was sweeping the raft.



The escape was almost like the proverbial one "from the

frying-pan to the fire." The island was destitute of

shelter. As the night advanced the air grew colder, and the

adventurers suffered severely. Mr. Gist had his hands and

feet frozen,--a disaster which Washington, despite his

wetting, fortunately escaped. The morning dawned at length.

Hope returned to their hearts. The cold of the night had

done one service, it had frozen the water between the island

and the eastern bank of the stream. The ice bore their

weight. They crossed in safety, and the same day reached a

trading-post, recently formed, near the ground subsequently

to be celebrated as that of Braddock's defeat.



Here they rested two or three days, Gist recovering from the

effects of his freezing, Washington improving the

opportunity to pay a visit to Queen Aliquippa, an Indian

princess, whose palace--if we may venture to call it so--was

near by. The royal lady had been angry that he had neglected

her on his way out. This visit, an apology, and a present

healed her wounded feelings, and disposed her to a gracious

reception.



Nothing could be learned of Vanbraam and the remainder of

the party. Washington could not wait for them. He hurried

forward with Gist, crossed the Alleghanies to Will's Creek,

and, leaving his companion there, hastened onward to

Williamsburg, anxious to put his despatches in Governor

Dinwiddie's hands. He reached there on January 16, having

been absent eleven weeks, during which he had traversed a

distance of eleven hundred miles.



What followed is matter of common history. Dinwiddie was

incensed at St. Pierre's letter. The French had come to

stay; that was plain. If the English wanted a footing in the

land they must be on the alert. A party was quickly sent to

the Ohio forks to build a fort, Washington having suggested

this as a suitable plan. But hardly was this fort begun

before it was captured by the French, who hastened to erect

one for themselves on the spot.



Washington, advancing with a supporting force, met a French

detachment in the woods, which he attacked and defeated. It

was the opening contest of the French and Indian War.



As for Fort Duquesne, which the French had built, it gave

rise to the most disastrous event of the war, the defeat of

General Braddock and his army, on their march to capture it.

It continued in French hands till near the end of the war,

its final capture by Washington being nearly the closing

event in the contest which wrested from the hands of the

French all their possessions on the American continent.