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Updated: May 26, 2025
She was a dumpy little girl, with about as much style as a cornplanter; and I suspect that she bade her pet calf a fond good-by when she left the dear old farm to come and play tag with knowledge on the Siwash campus. Nobody saw her in particular the first year, except that you couldn't help noticing her hair any more than you can help noticing a barn that's burning on a damp, dark night.
Cornplanter turns on his heel from the Huron maiden who forgets her blood." When the sun reached its zenith it shone down upon a long line of mounted Indians riding single file along the narrow trail and like a huge serpent winding through the forest and over the plain. They were Wyandot Indians, and Isaac Zane rode among them.
I sympathize with them in many ways. We have robbed them, broken faith with them, and have not lived up to the treaties. Pipe and Wingenund are particularly bitter toward the whites. I understand Cornplanter is also. He would give anything for Jonathan's scalp, and I believe any of the tribes would give a hundred of their best warriors for 'Black Wind, as they call Lew Wetzel."
Surely she could not have trailed you?" "Will you tell us?" said Isaac to Myeerah. "A bird sang it to me," answered Myeerah. "She will never tell, that is certain," said Isaac. "And for that reason I believe Simon Girty got word to her that I was in the hands of Cornplanter. At the last moment when the Indians were lashing me to the stake Girty came to me and said he must have been too late."
The distinguished warrior Brant was very solicitous on this point, and being encouraged by those at the head of British affairs in Canada, was sanguine of ultimate success. Colonel Proctor, accompanied by Cornplanter, arrived at the council fire kindled at Buffalo Creek, on the 27th of April, 1791. Among the Indian chiefs present were Young King, Farmer's Brother and Red Jacket.
He marched his sire ten or twelve miles up the river, and then stepped in front of him, faced about, and addressed him in the following manner: "My name is John O'Bail, commonly called Cornplanter. I am your son! You are my father! You are now my prisoner, and subject to the customs of Indian warfare. But you shall not be harmed: you need not fear. I am a warrior! Many are the scalps I have taken!
The Cornplanter, with forty-eight chiefs of the Six Nations, were now deputed to a grand council of the Miami confederates held at Au Glaize on the Maumee in the fall of 1792. "There were so many nations," says the Cornplanter, "that we cannot tell the names of them. There were three men from the Gora Nations; it took them a whole season to come, and twenty-seven nations from beyond Canada."
Cornplanter at the head of the Allegany clan of Senecas arrived on the sixteenth, and Red Jacket with his, on the eighteenth. On assembling, a degree of dignity and decorum was manifested, which served to indicate their ideas of the forms and proprieties due to the occasion.
Her hair rippled from the uncovered head and fell in dusky splendor over her shoulders; her dark eyes shone with a stern and steady fire: her bosom swelled with each deep breath. She was the daughter of great chiefs; she looked the embodiment of savage love. "The Huron squaw is brave," said Cornplanter. "By what right does she come to free my captive?" "He is an adopted Wyandot."
At the conclusion of the speeches, which were in an unknown tongue to Isaac, Cornplanter handed a war-club to Half Town. This chief got up, walked to the end of the circle, and there brought the club down on the ground with a resounding thud. Then he passed the club to Big Tree. In a solemn and dignified manner every chief duplicated Half Town's performance with the club.
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