Such warnings as we have described were attendant upon the advance of the Indians in force, but the lone cultivator, upon his isolated farm, was in constant danger of attack from small bands or single savages that skulked unseen through the forest. The clearing was generally surrounded by woods or thicket that afforded ample cover to the foe in his stealthy approach. The settler, driving his team along the furrow, never knew but that watchful eyes were following his every movement, awaiting the opportunity for a favorable shot at him. His boy, going to the spring for water, might be suddenly seized from behind, gagged before he could utter a sound, and carried away to meet a cruel death, or to be brought up in some Indian’s wigwam. The mother, standing in the doorway of the cabin, oblivious to all danger, might be shot through the heart in the very sight of her husband. Perhaps, when the head of the family was away on a short hunt, or a trip to the fort, a party of Indians who had patiently awaited the chance for days would make an attack on the cabin. If the occupants had time to throw the heavy bolts across the door, there was a fair chance of their beating off the assailants, even though their success depended upon the courage of one woman and a half-grown boy. Many a thrilling border story turns upon the heroism of frontier women and children under such circumstances. A typical affair of the kind occurred in Nelson County, Kentucky, during the year 1791. A party of about a score of Indians attacked the cabin of a settler named Merrill. The place was at some distance from the nearest habitation and no help could reasonably be looked for. The family were taken entirely unawares, the first intimation of the presence of the dreaded redskins being a volley from the neighboring brush aimed at the father who was working near his home. He fell grievously wounded but contrived to struggle to his feet and staggered into the cabin with the foremost savage at his heels. The wife of the settler succeeded, however, in closing the door and throwing the heavy bar across it, before the Indian could enter. Meanwhile, her husband sank helpless upon the floor. The defence of the home now depended upon the woman and her son and daughter, neither of whom was much more than a child. But the desperate situation did not daunt the brave mother. She seized an axe and prepared to defend the family as best she might with it. There were no firearms in the cabin. Merrill, after the manner of backwoodsmen of the time, had carried his rifle to work with him and after being hit had been unable to regain it from the tree against which it had been placed.