The morning dawned clear and bright over the fort and village of Harrodsburg; and to the eye of a novice there remained nothing to indicate that the Indian besiegers were anywhere in the vicinity. The forest was quiet, and yet full of life, the robins and blue birds came flitting round the houses, and the smaller “chippy” birds came down into the inclosure of the fort, and pecked about for scattered crumbs.

Harrodsburg was a typical village of its kind, the old frontier post fortified against Indians. Its houses were built in close rows around a square, the intervals between them protected by heavy palisades, forming a continuous line with the walls. At each angle rose a large block-house, flanking the bare curtains, and a small ditch encompassed the whole.

On the morning succeeding the daring entrance of Ruby and her two protectors to the fort, a handsome and distinguished looking man of about twenty-five, dressed in a curious but very picturesque mixture of military uniform and backwoods frock and leggins, stood in the upper story of one of the block-houses, looking out over the gate through a loophole, and talking to Ruby Roland.

This young man, whose peculiar air of intelligence and resolution marked him as a person of no common mold, was[36] none other than the afterward celebrated George Rogers Clark, a man who had already inspired more hope and confidence in the breasts of the people of Kentucky than any other leader had yet succeeded in doing.

Colonel Clark had just returned from the parent State of Virginia, with twelve hundred pounds of Continental money, a colonel’s commission, public orders “to defend Kentucky,” and private orders to—ah! that no one knew, though many would have given much to satisfy their curiosity. He had issued a call to the settlers of Kentucky to organize for a secret expedition, and companies had been formed at different points all along the frontiers of the present States of Pennsylvania, Virginia and Ohio.

And now, when his plans were almost ripe, the ardent young leader was caught and caged in Harrodsburg, by a miserable Shawnee chief named Blackfish, and less than three hundred warriors. Such are the accidents that conspire against the most successful military chiefs.

Colonel Clark was looking thoughtfully out of the loophole, but listening to the words of his fair companion with great attention, nevertheless. There were no eavesdroppers near, and the girl appeared to be talking very earnestly.

“If you will come, colonel,” she said in conclusion, “I can promise that you shall be welcomed by all the tribes of forest and prairie that obey my father. You will only have to contend with the British, for our people are already tired of the yoke, and long to throw it off.”

Colonel Clark remained silently looking out of the loophole, as if he had not heard what she said. He seemed to be absorbed in watching the maneuvers of a herd of cattle that had been driven out of the fort-gate as soon as daylight advanced, and when the besiegers had retired to a respectful distance.

This was done every day, and, curiously enough, the Indians seldom or never molested the herdsmen, as long as they kept within the clearing surrounding the fort.

Without answering Ruby, the young colonel pointed to the cattle, and said:

“There are Indians in the high grass behind those cows. See how they act.”

Ruby frowned a little impatiently, and answered:

[37]

“We are not talking of that, colonel. I brought you a certain proposition from Tabac, the Grand Sachem and Grand Door of the Wabash. Have you any answer for it?”

Clark smiled provokingly. He was a man of great penetration and tact, as the reader will discover in the course of this book, and for some reason he did not see fit to give the girl a full answer ............