Rhea hears some things. While he is on the Maumee he tells Colonel McKee and other British officers that he has seen Colonel Thomas Proctor on his way to the Senecas and has talked with him. That Proctor told him he was on his way to Sandusky and the Miami villages, and that he expected the Cornplanter to accompany him and bring about peace; that he (Proctor), expected to get shipping at Fort Erie, The British officers who hear these things, say that if they were at Lake Erie, Proctor would get no shipping. The Mohawks and other Indians declare that if Proctor, or any other Yankee messenger, arrives, he will not carry back any message. Simon Girty and one Pat Hill assert, that Proctor should never return, even if he had a hundred Senecas with him. On the ninth of March, 1791, the secretary of war issued orders to General Charles Scott of Kentucky, to lead an expedition against the Wea or Ouiatenon towns on the Wabash. The expedition was not to proceed until the tenth day of May, as hopes were entertained that Proctor might negotiate a peace. The force to be employed was to consist of seven hundred and fifty mounted volunteers, including officers. All Indians who ceased to resist were to be spared. Women and children, and as many warriors as possible, were to be taken prisoners, but treated with humanity. The tenth day of May arrived, but Proctor was not heard from. The hostility of the savages was daily increasing. Scott was delayed a few days longer in the hope that intelligence might arrive, but on the twenty-third of May he crossed the Ohio at the mouth of the Kentucky and plunged into the wilderness. Before him lay one hundred and fifty-five miles of forest, swamp and stream. The rain fell in torrents and every river was beyond its banks. His horses were soon worn down and his provisions spoiled, but he pressed on. On the morning of the first of June, he was entering the prairies south of the Wea plain and approaching the hills of High Gap. He now saw a lone Indian horseman to his right and tried to intercept him, but failed. He pushed on rapidly to the Indian towns. On the morning of June first, 1791, the landscape of the Wea is a thing of beauty. To the north lies the long range of the Indian Hills, crowned with forest trees, and scarped with many a sharp ravine. At the southern edge of these hills flows the Wabash, winding in and out with graceful curves, and marked in its courses by a narrow fringe of woodland. To the east lies Wea creek, jutting out into the plain with a sharp turn, and then gliding on again to the river. Within this enclosure of wood and stream lie the meadows of the Ouiatenons, dotted here and there with pleasant groves, and filled with the aroma of countless blossoms.