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It was a case of the mouse and the cat, with fortune playing as the cat, and he serving as the mouse. The five guards from Wakatomica took him in tow, for Upper Sandusky, and he gave over hoping any more. Upper Sandusky, northern Ohio, was a Wyandot Huron town. It was a center for the Indians of many tribes.
In June of this year 1782, while Scout Slover was a captive, a grand council of the Northern Confederacy and their allies had been called at the Shawnee town of Wakatomica, to talk matters over. Delegates arrived from the Ottawas, Chippewas, Delawares, the southern Cherokees, Potawatomis, Wyandot Hurons, Mingo Iroquois, and from the other Shawnee towns.
He had been living at Urbana, Illinois, and was appointed brigadier general of the Illinois militia; but he enlisted as a private. When he died, in April, 1836, it was in his cabin on the site of that very Wakatomica, the Black Fish town where he had suffered tortures.
They heard a shrill whoop; an Indian came running from Wakatomica. The heart of Simon Butler sank again. He did not like whoops in that tone of voice, and the Indian was signaling them. "It's the distress halloo. We are summoned to the council-house," said Simon Girty. "We must go at once." They and their friend Red Pole, a Shawnee, went to meet the runner.
"We have waited long enough," gibed George Girty, swearing horridly. "Now you'll get what you deserve. You'll eat fire." They took him to a smaller town of Wakatomica, five miles distant. There they and the other people beat him for an hour. It was the beginning. They hustled him on to a third town, named Mequa-chake Red Earth. John Slover lost all hope. He was Indian enough to know.
They tied him to a post in front of the council-house here, and held another debate. After that the village and its visitors danced around him and threatened him and scolded him, until late at night. Simon really did not care. He had done his best, they might do their worst. In the morning he was taken on up to Wakatomica. It was a larger town.
After wandering twenty-one days he reached Fort McIntosh on the Ohio below Pittsburgh. What of the cowardly Tutelu? Tutelu, still in great terror, arrived at Wakatomica. He panted in with a big story. He showed his head. It was laid open, four inches long, to the bone! He showed his feet. They were filled with thorns. He said that his prisoner had been a giant, with the strength of a buffalo.
Took him home; had his own squaw dress the wounds from club and knife and switch. Made him one of the family. For twenty-one days Simon lived in clover. The Indians all treated him kindly. He wandered where he pleased, in the neighborhood. It seemed too good to be true. At the end of the blissful three weeks, he and Simon his friend were at Solomon's Town, a short distance from Wakatomica.
He was from Kentucky, and henceforth all Kentuckians were to be killed. Even Captain Boone had deceived them. Besides, people had come to Wakatomica, to see the fun, and ought not to be disappointed! Simon's heart fell. Girty leaped up and spoke again, at length. He was answered. The debate lasted for an hour and a half. The council proceeded to a vote. The war-club was passed from hand to hand.
In the morning he was painted black again, and sent away afoot in charge of a large Shawnee, who drove him with a hickory whip. They were bound for the Shawnee towns, forty miles southwest probably to Wakatomica. The doctor, who was not much over five feet tall and weighed scarcely more than one hundred and twenty, trotted valiantly, glad that he had not been tied by a rope.
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