The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1870-07-22

and retired to his wigwams beyond the
Cumberland without leaving trace of the
| route he had travelled, though rangers were
| constantly on the lookout for his trail
| One of these rangers of the Holston settle
ment was man by the name of Cotterell.
and must make slight depression to re-
cord an incident in his history. He was
famous for his size, activity, fearlessness and
progressing presence. Benge and him
self were rivals in manhood and wood craft,
| each jealous of the others proves and ac-
tivity, and both anxious for an occasion to
| meet in single combat Not long before
| Benge's last incursion, they met on top of
| Powells Mountain, in what is now Lee
county, some go miles from the settlements,
each with party of followers The
Indians were in ambush, having observed
the approach of the whites, and Benge in
| structcd his companions to kill all except
Cotterell, so that he himself might run him
| down and capture him. At the crack of
the Indian rifles every one of Cotterell's
men fell, seeing which, and at once com
pretending the folly of a combat with a
dozen savages, he sprang away like an an
telope, with Benge in close pursuit. Two
miles away, in theyalley, was the cabin of
a settler, in gaining which Cotterell knew
was his only safety Having 5000 of spe-
Gle in belt around his body, he found he
was carrying too much weight for closely
contested race, and that Benge was gain
ing on him. Making a desperate effort,
however, he increased his speed little,
and as he leaped the fence that surrounded
the cabin, Benge's tomahawk was buried
in the top rail before he reached the ground.
Benge fled back to his comrades without
farther effort to capture him, as he didn't
know how many men and rifles might have
| been in the cabin.
A few years after this Cotterell died, and
| during the "wake," while his body lay in
the cabin, an old comrade, who had been
in many hard pinch with him, thus gave
vent to his thoughts and feelings as he
| paced the puncheon floor in great sorrow
"Poor Cotterell is gone He was a noble
fellow after Ingins and varmints, and |
| hope he has gone to where there is as
much game and as desperate good range
as he had on Holston p'
But to return to the subject. Not a
great while before Benges last predatory
| incursion in 1888, man by the name of
Hobbs, almost, if not quite, the equal of
Cotterell in proves, bravery, activity and
daring, and 'some among Ingins," as the
phrase had it, determined to discover the
secret path by which Benge crossed the
mountain and entered and retired from
the settlements. He at length ascertained
it to be one of two cattle paths crossing
| Cumberland Mountain, midway between
two gaps some two or three miles apart,
through which the highways into Kentucky
lay in those days. He at once organized a
| squad of mountaineers to meet him at a
| designated spot the moment it was known
that the Indians were in the settlements
Time wore on, and all was pleasant and
prosperous on the Holston One bright
| May morning in '78, after the sun had risen
and the men had gone to the clearings and
| the women were busy at their wheels and
looms, all joyous and jovial amid the fra
GRANGE of wild flowers and the music of
song-birds, and not dreaming, perhaps, of
coming danger, Benge and his painted
warriors stealthily approached and sur
rounded the cabins of family by the
name of Livingston. Knowing that death
would be the instant result if they gave
the alarm, the women, two of them with
| infants, permitted themselves to be taken
captives and hurried away through the
| deep and tangled forest.
The alarm was soon given and the men
of the settlement started in pursuit, while
Hobbs and his comrades made their way to
the designated place of meeting at the base
of Cumberland Mountain. The pursu-
ing party had not gone very far before they
found one of the infants on the trail its
brains having been dashed out against a
tree. Hobbs and his men having reached
their destination several hours in advance
Of the Indians, he divided them into two
parties, in order to guard the two paths,
one or the other of which he was satisfied
the savages would travel, each company to
be stationed in line and in ambush within
convenient range of the path. He himself
chose to be with those who guarded the
path he thought the Indians would be
most likely to take, and after disposing of
them in line, concealed by the underground,
he instructed them not to fire should the
Indians come that way till he had given
the signal, each man selecting his victim, so
as not to waste the second bullet on one
object. They were not kept long in sus-
pense, after being disposed, before the red
skins were seen silently and cautiously
vending their way with their captves,
along the mountain in single file, Benge in
the lead, as was his custom. Hobbs know
ing his habit, had himself taken the far
thest position, so that when the Indians
should be opposite his line, Benge would
be opposite him. One of the women, how
ever, being the affianced bride of one of
the young men in the company, he became
impatient before the line of Indians was
parallel with the line of whites, and before
Benge had advanced far enough to come
within the range of Hobbs rifle, and fired
without waiting for the preconcerted sig
nal AS no time was now to be lost, each
selected his man and blazed away. At the
crack Of the rifles, and seeing that most of
his followers had fallen or disappeared,
Benge sprang off like startled buck, leav-
ing captives and all behind. Opposite
Hobbs position was an opening in the
timber, where the trunk of large tree was
lying across the path, and he knew that
his only chance to bring Benge to halt,
as he afterwards expressed it, was to do it
as he passed round the root of the tree into
the opening. He had but moment to re-
fleet, and as Benge at full speed darkened
the opening, which was only few feet
wide, Hobbs drew bead and fired, when
Benge sprang into the air with yell, and
fell without a struggle or kick.
That was the last of Benge, the half-breed
Shawnee warrior, and the last Indian pre-