Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-02-09
HONORS FOR THE HEROES.

iAuu, U6Edu U push ldTLueE w est anu NOELU
on The manor tracts of Pennsylvania.
With these came James kirkpatrick, Of
Franklin county, Pa, bringing with him
his wife and three children, the Youngest
not yet year old. They crossed the Ale
gheny river at the point where, a quarter of
a century before, had stood the Indian town
of Kittapning. Here they piled their house
hold effects on the backs of pack horses and
nushed into the wilderness some ten miles
beyond and TO little stream called Cherry
run.
KIRKPATRICK's FOREST HOME.
With the help of a distant neighbor
Kirkpatrick built him a cabin and began to
clear his land. Encouraged by the quality
of their purchase be and his wife toiled
eheerfully, for both were young, buoyant
with health and hope, and charmed with
the novelty of their woodland life. The
elder children, too, were happy as linnets in
the midst of their new surroundings, and as
the ak was Justify piled, watched with eager
interest the swsying ofeach tree, and heard
with boisterous shouts the crash when the
great trunk shook the earth with its fall;
while the baby brother Joined in their glee,
he knew not why.
So the boundaries of the clearing extended
further and further as time went by, and
the crops grew apace in the rich, new soil.
A few Indians remained in q camp not
many miles away, but they were friendly,
and sometimes came to the colonists to bar
ter moccasins and furs for potatoes turnips
and other products of the farm. The latch
string OF the young pioneers was always out
to the few travellers who passed their way, but
beyond an occasional party of surveyors, a
hunter or a militia man or two going or
Al, l.. Ill -
they had few visitors.
Born of religious parents, the young peo-
pie kept up in their new home the pious OBJ
servances to which they had been always ac-
customed. Indeed, their isolated situation
gave new fervency to their devotions. 1t so
happened on the morning of the 18th OF
April, 1871, day ever after memorable to
them, that George Miller, who was the first
white nah who had settled in this section,
coming in 1866, and another militiaman,
had stopped at the cabin. Young Kirk
patrick, as was his habit, before beginning
work for the day, read a chapter in the
Bible, and all present knelt in prayer.
THE LAST INDIAN ATTACK.
As they arose from their knees, one of the
militia men hearing some stir outside,
opened the door to ascertain the cause. As
he did SO, an Indian standing near the
house, fred at him, inficting a terrible
wound in his side He was falling out of
the open door, when his companions, Miller
aud Kirkpatrick, springing forward,
dragged him in aud barred the door. Miller
then barricaded the window with the bed
ding, table and such other articles of house
hold furniture as would help to make it
bullet proof, while kirkpatrick, seIzing his
rifle, ran up the ladder to the lott and began
shooting through loophole in the chunk
ing. Having been entirely engrossed with
elabor Of his farm, and not expecting hos
tility from the Indians at that late date, he
had run no bullets for some time, and so
had but few in his pouch. He had not fired
many rounds, when a shot aimed BY the as
sailant sped through the crack above the
large wooden door latch, struck the inuo-
cent baby, and it fell back bleeding and
gAsping.
At this moment kirkpatrick called down
the ladder to his wife to mold some bullets
as fast as possible, for his supply was nearly
exhausted. There was no time now to wash
the blood stains from the cruel wound or to
pillow the dropping head upon her throbbing
breast; no time to give way to a mothers
yesrning or mothers anguish-only time
to lay, with trembling hands, the tiny, limp
form in the sugar trough cradle, that might
never again rock him to slumber; only time
to snatch with nervous haste the lead, the
mold and the ladle for melting from the
rude shelf, rake the embers from under the
back log and essay her difficult task that her
husband might save their lives or sell them
as dearly as he could.
MoLDING THE BULLETS.
It was easy enough to melt the lead on the
glowing Goals, but the shaking fingers could
not guide the molten stream into the throat
of the mold. Seeing this, the wounded mil
ltiaman, holding together with one hand the
gaping edges of his wound, crawled to the
fireplace, and with the other hand steadied
the ladle for her. In this way they filed
and emptied the mold many times over,
while Miller, having secured the house as
we'll as he could, stood at the foot of the lad
der, trimmed the bullets, loaded the spare
gun, passed it up to kirkpatrick, took his
empty one. loaded it and exchanged, loaded
and exchanged again and again.
Counting the shots and the intervals be-
tween them, the white men Judged there
were three assailants. After a time, how
ever, the shots were less frequentand farther
of. They concluded from this that one Of
the Indians was either killed or badly
wounded. The other two had by this time
moved to the edge of the clearing and far
enough away from the house to be seen from
the 1Oop-hole. One Of them had just fired
his piece, the charge burying itself in the
log near Kirkpatrick's head. The other
one was in the act of loading. kirkpatrick
having now for the first time a chance to
take deliberate aim, leveled his rifle and
fred; his bullet struck the ramrod out of
the Indians hand and entered his body. He
threw mp his arms and fell to the grouLd,
but scrambled to his feet again and tottered
into the woods. The other one ran away at
full speed, and the firing ceased.
A GOOD INDIAN FOUND.
When the besieged white men opened the
door and looked warilY ont, an Indian lay