Both before and after the surrender of our army at Detroit by General Hull, the Indians received encouragement and protection from the British forts in Canada. Irritated by the rapid and progressive encroachment upon their territories by the enterprising citizens of the states, they made frequent raids, sometimes firing barns and driving off cattle. In many instances they massacred or captured whole families. Bloody scenes of this kind were described daily by visiting hunters and scouts, and the horrors of the tomahawk and the scalping knife continually preyed upon the minds of our wives and children. The relation of these tales of savage cruelty, the note of preparations for war that then sounded through all our country, the daily sound of the drum and fife in our streets, the turning out of volunteers, and the enrolling of drafted men—all produced a feverish excitement in the mind of the public. In the midst of the general feeling of patriotism that pervaded the sons of Ohio, we could frequently discover the thrill of terror as our eyes turned upon home and we thought of the defenseless situation in which we had left our families. With these excitements and with such a state of public feeling, slight appearances of danger were frequently sufficient to throw a whole neighborhood or village into a state of consternation. On a fine afternoon in the month of May, 1812, a number of neighbors had assembled to assist at a logrolling on a farm a little south of the now flourishing town of Mount Vernon. The dangers with which they were surrounded and the fears and apprehensions that the Indians might make a descent upon the settlement became common subjects of conversation with them. And as the whisky was freely circulated and the men’s blood became warmed, there arose some fine bursts of patriotism and boasts of personal bravery. “Let me but see the moccasin track of an Indian near Mount Vernon,” said Archibald Crawford, “and damn my eyes, give me but a good rifle, and I’ll soon drive them into the woods again!” “Nay now, Archie Crawford,” said another who joined in the conversation. “We ought not to brag too high until we have been proved. How would your temper stand the welding heat? Suppose you were attacked by two at once?” “How? Why, well, never fear me,” rejoined the other. “If my ammunition failed, or if my gun was taken from me, I’d so lay about me with these sledge hammers that they would soon give up the game. Why, I’ll tell you what it is, Emmett: these Indians are not so brave as you think. Besides, we fight for our country. And damn my eyes, but I believe that with Captain Walker’s Company, I could drive a regiment of them back to Sandusky.”