wringing her hands, wept convulsively. She had been assigned to a particular master. He, seeing her tears, brutally ordered her to leave the village, and accompany him to Lower Sandusky.

Her master carried his victim off with him, and all knew that her ultimate fate was to furnish the Cherokees with a gala day. by being tortured and burned at the stake. Johnston and Duchonquet followed, hoping in some way to effect her liberation. There were a few French and English traders at the trading post, and Lower Sandusky was thronged with Indians from the various. tribes. Here Johnston first heard the glad tidings of the escape of Skyles.

The traders all took a great interest in the fate of Miss Flemming, and united their energies to do everything in their power for her liberation. The Cherokees had pitched their camp a little outside of the village. There was at that place a white man named Whittaker, who had been adopted by the Indians. He had been taken captive years before, when a child, in Virginia. All his friends were killed. He had lost all recollection of his parentage, and had become so thoroughly naturalized among the Indians that he had no desire to leave them.

The tradesmen secured his interest in behalf of Miss Flemming, and taking him with them, went in a body to the Cherokee camp. Miss Flemming's father had formerly kept a sort of tavern and trading-house near Pittsburgh, which was much frequented by Indian hunters. Whittaker, accompanying his Indian friends, had often visited the tavern. Thus he had seen Miss Flemming in her own home. This naturally increased his desire to befriend her.

As soon as Miss Flemming saw Whittaker she recognized him, and rushing forward, seized his hand, and bursting into tears implored him to save her from the dreadful fate of death by torture which she knew was impending. With his whole heart he engaged in her service; but the Cherokees were inflexible; they would listen to none of his appeals.

He then took a boat and went to Detroit to seek the intervention of an influential and powerful Indian chief who went by the name of King Crane, and who was his personal friend. To interest the king more deeply in his behalf, he assured him that Miss Flemming was his sister. With characteristic Indian gravity, the king listened to his story, and acknowledged the reasonableness of his interfering to rescue so near a relative from the stake. He

at once repaired to Sandusky, and walked out to the Cherokee camp to plead for the captive.

The pride of the Indians was now aroused, and they declared that nothing whatever should induce them to give her up. Very bitter altercations, with many angry threats, ensued. One of the Cherokee chiefs in his rage said to King Crane:

"It is disgraceful for a chief like you to place yourself on a level with the white people, and plead for them, when you know they regard you as no better than dirt."

This insult exasperated the king. Hurling back volleys of vituperation he drew off to concert with his followers measures of redress. Whittaker successfully added fuel to his towering passion, and encouraged the king in his resolve to rescue the white girl.

The Cherokees heard these threats, and in their alarm resolved immediately to put their victim to death. As soon as night came they stripped her of her clothing, painted her body black, bound her firmly to the stake, and gathered the faggots around her, and left her to the misery of the night, intending with the early dawn to enjoy their cruel revel.

He

The sagacious King Crane anticipated this movement. armed a band of his most determined young men, and at midnight commenced a silent march upon the Cherokee encampment. The Cherokees were asleep. The poor captive was found in her condition of unutterable woe. She was moaning in a state of almost utter insensibility. Speedily they clothed her, and surrounded her with their protecting arms.

Then the king, with a whoop, summoned the Cherokee chiefs before him, he informed them that he had rescued the white girl; that she was now his by the right of conquest; that if they disputed it, and wished to fight, his young men were ready for them.

The Cherokees were outnumbered, and dared not provoke a conflict. They saw that remonstrances would be of no avail. They, however, urged that he had the day before offered to pay a large ransom for her; and they hoped that he would now fulfil that offer. He had made the proposal, acting in coöperation with the traders, who had offered to pay six hundred silver brooches for her release. The king replied, with much dignity:

"The white girl is now in my possession. I should serve you right if I should refuse you a single brooch. But I disdain to

receive anything at your hands without paying an ample equivalent. I will therefore give you the six hundred brooches."

This arrangement was eminently wise. The savage nature of the Cherokees was so aroused by their humiliation and their loss, that there was great danger that some lurking Indian would take revenge by piercing her bosom with a bullet before she could be removed. Having accepted the ransom, Indian honor was pledged to respect the arrangement. Still, among the Indians as among white men, there were vagabond individuals who had no sense of honor whatever. Miss Flemming was therefore disguised as an Indian squaw, and was placed under the care of two trusty Indians to be conveyed to Pittsburgh, where she arrived in safety.

Still the Cherokees were in a very discontented state. They had been robbed of one of their greatest entertainments. They knew that they had been compelled to accept a ransom. They declared that they would not leave Sandusky until they had killed some white man in revenge for the loss of their prisoner. Every white man there was now in equal peril. Johnston and Duchonquet in particular found it necessary to keep themselves carefully concealed for several days. After a short time the Cherokees retired, vowing vengeance upon the white men wherever they should meet one. They were seen no more.

Johnston soon left Lower Sandusky, and embarked in a boat laden with furs for Detroit. Here he remained a few days, and then took passage for Montreal. Thence by the way of Fort Stanwix he reached New York. There he had an interview with President Washington, who in some way had heard of his perils, his adventures, and his wonderful escape. Washington sent for him and made minute inquiries respecting the strength of the Indian tribes, the number and position of the British garrisons, and the character of the alliance which existed between them and the savages. In a week from this time Johnston was again restored to the bosom of his family. He appeared among them as one risen from the dead.

Subsequently the fate of the prominent Indians to whom we have alluded became known. Chickatommo was killed at the renowned battle of the Thames, where General Wayne gained so decisive a victory over the combined Indian hosts. Messhawa was in the same battle, but escaped unharmed. He fought bravely at Tippecanoe and at the River Raisin, and finally disappeared

at the battle of the Thames, where it is supposed that he was killed. King Crane lived to a good old age, much respected for his just and manly character. He was an active warrior in the great victory which the Indians obtained over the whites at the defeat of St. Clair, and shared in the rout which General Wayne subsequently inflicted upon the Indian warriors. After this he became reconciled to the Americans, and fought under the banners of General Harrison at the battle of the Thames.

Whittaker remained devoted to the Indians by whom he had been adopted. Received among them almost in infancy, he was in character, manners, and almost in aspect, thoroughly an Indian. He fought ever on their side. Escaping all the perils of battle, he died, it is not known when or where. Tom Lewis, a fullblooded Indian with an English name, who, it will be remembered, had humanely interposed to save Johnston from being robbed of his shirt in the cold and freezing wind, fought against the Americans in all the battles of the Northwestern Territory until the final peace in the year 1796. He then was sent as one of the Indian deputation to Washington. There he met his former captive Johnston again, in the year 1797. He rose to high rank among his tribe, and finally perished, as many eminent Americans have done, of intemperance, that bane alike of the white man and the red man.