D.C. George Washington. Yet
it was nothing but Washington's knowledge that saved the van of
Braddock's defeated force.
In like manner, had this little exploring expedition been accompanied by
colonists experienced in Indian ways, or had they chosen to make use of
Indian scouts, disaster might have been averted. As it was, almost on
the threshold of their journey they were ambushed, and cut off by the
Redskins. Robson, Davers, and two of the men were speedily picked off by
the concealed enemy, or were killed in the final rush of the painted,
yelling savages. The little force was scattered to the winds. One or
two, taking to the water, under cover of the darkness, and protected by
that Providence which sometimes watches over helpless persons,
eventually reached safety. But young Kerr was not amongst these
fortunate ones. For him, experiences more trying were in store. In the
last melee he fell into the hands of a grim-looking, powerfully-built
warrior, who bound him to a tree, and in that most unpleasant
predicament the lad for a time remained, from moment to moment
anticipating for himself the treatment he saw being dealt out on the
bodies of his friends. His youth saved him. Too young to be considered
by the Indians as fit to be a warrior, his scalp was not added to the
other bloody trophies of victory; for him was reserved the fate of
slavery, the disgrace (from an Indian point of view) of performing
menial offices, of doing the work usually performed by squaws.
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