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Updated: June 7, 2025
He is not a bully, for I have never known him to do anything mean or cruel. It is just sheer love of fighting." "Ha! Ha! I fear you will not break him of that," answered Col. Zane. "It is a good joke to say he gets it all from the Zanes. How about the McCollochs? What have you to say of your father and the Major and John McColloch? They are not anything if not the fighting kind.
As an Indian killer he ranked next to the intrepid Wetzel; but while Wetzel preferred to take his chances alone and track the Indians through the untrodden wilds, McColloch was a leader of expeditions against the savages. A giant in stature, massive in build, bronzed and bearded, he looked the typical frontiersman.
Another company of men, ahorse, were galloping across the bottom, for the top of the bluff, and the fort gates. "It's Major McColloch! It's Sam McColloch, from Short Creek! Huzza! Huzza!" Short Creek was a dozen miles north. The McCollochs lived there. Here they came the Short Creek settlers, business bent.
Every time he stalked one and was about to lay his hand upon its mane, it tossed its head and with a snort galloped away. Finally he managed to grab the worst of the lot an old mare. On her he rode on, down to Short Creek, where he found all the settlers gathered in the little fort there, under Major Sam McColloch, expecting an attack by the Indians who had defeated Colonel Crawford's column.
Wetzel, Major McColloch, Jonathan and Silas Zane were approaching. They were all heavily armed. Wetzel was equipped for a long chase. Double leggins were laced round his legs. A buckskin knapsack was strapped to his shoulders. "Major, I want you and Jonathan to watch the river," said Col. Zane. "Silas, you are to go to the mouth of Yellow Creek and reconnoiter. We are in for a siege.
"There are no Indians on this side of the river," said Major McColloch, in answer to the Colonel's question. "Mr. Clarke, you do not seem impressed with your importance," said Colonel Zane. "My sister said you did not tell her what part you took in Isaac's rescue." "I hardly deserve all the credit," answered Alfred. "Your big black dog merits a great deal of it."
And he himself thought that he was safe, until, galloping more easily along the brow of the hill, he ran squarely into another band of Indians, trooping to the siege of Fort Henry. The Indians recognized him. They all knew Sam McColloch and his white horse; they asked no better prize. "Sam! Now we got you, Sam!" They spread, to take him alive. Again he wheeled.
And on a sudden, as the battered double gates of the fort swung, the Indians sprang from the very ground, and charged to cut off the galloping company. 'Twas a race for life or death. Shooting right and left, the Short Creek riders tore on. They were winning, they were winning. Major Sam McColloch veered aside, to let his men pass. He was resolved that not one should fail.
His fist caught Miller a hard blow on the head, knocking him down and sending the knife flying in the air. It had all happened so quickly that everyone was as if paralyzed. The settlers stood still and watched Miller rise slowly to his feet. "Give me my knife!" he cried hoarsely. The knife had fallen at the feet of Major McColloch, who had concealed it with his foot.
Zane resolved to protect his property and at the same time render valuable aid to the Fort. Early that morning a pirogue loaded with cannon balls, from Ft. Pitt and bound for Louisville, had arrived and Captain Sullivan, with his crew of three men, had demanded admittance. In the absence of Capt. Boggs and Major McColloch, both of whom had been dispatched for reinforcements, Col.
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