HISTORY - continued....

     In October, 1786, a large number of families, traveling by land to Kentucky, known by the name of McKnitt's company, were surprised in their camp at night, between the Big and Little Laurel rivers, by a party of Indians, and totally defeated, with the loss of twenty-one persons killed, and the rest dispersed or made prisoners.
      Shortly before settlements were formed in what is now Whitley county, John Tye, his son, and some two or three other men, having encamped on the head of Big Poplar creek, were attacked after night by a party of Cherokee Indians.  Tye's son was killed, and the old man wounded.  The other men fled after the first fire of the Indians, and made their escape.  The Indians rushed upon the camp, and two of them entered it, but were immediately met by two large cur dogs, which defended the wounded sire and the dad son with a fearlessness and bravery which would have done credit to animals of a higher order.  In this conflict, one of the Indians was very severely wounded; and, as soon as he extricated himself from the jaws of the enraged dogs, the party precipitately fled, leaving their moccasins and leggins on the opposite side of the creek, where they had left them in order to ford the stream.
     In the early settlement of the county, Joseph Johnson was killed by three Cherokees, on Lynn camp.  They entered his house in the dusk of the evening, when there was no men about it but himself, and killed him with their tomahawks and knives.  His wife was out milking the cows at the time, and was ignorant of what was passing within until she reached the door of the cabin, when she beheld her prostrate and bleeding husband in the agonies of death, and the Indians standing over and around him, inflicting additional wounds upon the now unconscious body.  The savages discovered her almost at the instant she reached the door, and one of them sprang at her with his tomahawk.  She dropped her milk pail, and precipitately fled in the direction of the house of the elder Johnson, about a hundred and fifty yards off, the Indian in full chase. Mr. Johnson was a remarkably stout, active young woman, and the race was one for life.  Getting a few yards the start of the savage, she maintained the relative distance between them, until she reached the yard fence of the old gentleman; and as with one bound she cleared the obstruction, the savage made an unsuccessful thrust at her head, gave a yell of disappointment, and instantly retreated.

     WILLIAM WHITLEY, from whom this county received its name, was one of the most distinguished of those early pioneers, whose adventurous exploits have shed a coloring of romance over the early history of Kentucky.  He was born on the 14th of August, 1749, in that part of Virginia then called Augusta, and which afterwards furnished territory for Rockbridge county.  Unknown to early fame, he grew to manhood in the laborious occupation of tilling his native soil, in which his corporeal powers were fully developed, with but little mental cultivation.  He possessed, however, the spirit of enterprise, and the love of independence.  In 1775, having married Esther Fuller, and commenced house-keeping in a small way, with health and labor to season his bread, he said to his wife, he heard a fine report of Kentucky, and he thought they could get their living there with less hard work.  "Then, Billy, if I was you I would go and see," was the reply.  In two days he was on his way, with axe and plow, and gun and kettle.  And she is a woman who afterwards collected his warriors to pursue the Indians. 
     Whitley set out for Kentucky, accompanied by his brother-in-law, George Clark; in the wilderness they met with seven others, who joined them.
     We are not in possession of materials for a detailed narrative of Whitley's adventures after his arrival in Kentucky, and shall have to give only such desultory facts as we have been enabled to collect.
     In the year 1785, the camp of an emigrant by the name of McClure, was assaulted in the night by Indians, near the head of Skagg's creek, in Lincoln county, and six whites killed and scalped.
     Mrs. McClure ran into the woods with her four children, and could have made her escape with three, if she had abandoned the fourth; this, an infant in her arms, cried aloud, and thereby gave the savages notice where they were.  She heard them coming; the night, the grass, and the bushes, offered her concealment without the infant, but she was a mother, and determined to die with it; the like feeling prevented her from telling her three eldest to fly and hide.  She feared they would be lost if they left her side; she hoped they would not be killed if they remained.  In the meantime the Indians arrived, and extinguished both fears and hopes in the blood of three of the children.  The youngest, and the mother they made captives.  She was taken back to the camp, where there was plenty of provisions, and compelled to cook for her captors.  In the morning they compelled her to mount an unbroken horse, and accompany them on their return home. 
     Intelligence of this sad catastrophe being conveyed to Whitley's station, he was not at the same time sent others to warn and collect his company.  On his return he found twenty-one man collected to receive his orders.  With these he directed his course to the war path, intending to intercept the Indians returning home.  Fortunately, they had stopped to divide their plunder; and Whitley succeeded in gaining the path in advance of them.  He immediately saw that they had not passed, and prepared for their arrival.  His men being concealed in a favorable position, had not waited long before the enemy appeared, dressed in their spoils.  As they approached, they were met by a deadly fire from the concealed whites, which killed two, wounded two others and dispersed the rest.  Mrs. McClure, her child, and a negro woman, were rescued, and the six scalps taken by the Indians at the camp, recovered.
     Ten days after this event, a Mr. Moore, and his party, also emigrants, were defeated two or three miles from Rackoon creek, on the same road.  In this attack, the Indians killed nine persons, and scattered the rest.  Upon the receipt of the news, Captain Whitley raised thirty men, and under a similar impression as before, that they would return home, marched to intercept them.  On the sixth day, in a cane-brake, he met the enemy, with whom he found himself face to face, before he received any intimation of their proximity.  He instantly ordered ten of his men to the right, as many to the left, and the others to dismount on the spot with him.  The Indians, twenty in number, were mounted on good horses and well dressed in the plundered clothes.  Being in the usual Indian file, and still pressing from the rear when the front he made a halt, they were brought into full view; but they no sooner discovered the whites than they sprang from their horses and took to their heels. In the pursuit, three Indians were killed; eight scalps retaken; and twenty-eight horses, fifty pounds in cash, and a quantity of clothes and household furniture captured.  Captain Whitley accompanied Bowman and Clark in their respective expeditions against the Indians.
     In the years 1792, '93 and '94, the southern Indians gave great annoyance to the inhabitants of the southern and south-eastern portions of the State.  Their hostile incursions were principally directed against the frontiers of Lincoln county, where they made frequent inroads upon what were called the outside settlements, in the neighborhood of Crab Orchard, and Logan's and McKinney's stations.  Their depredations became, at length, so frequent, that Col. Whitley determined to take vengeance, and deprive them of the means of future annoyance; and, with this view, conceived the project of conducting an expedition against their towns on the south side of the Tennessee river.
     In the summer of 1794 he wrote to Major Orr, of Tennessee, informing him of his design, and inviting the major to join him with as large a force as he could raise.   Major Orr promptly complied; and the two corps, which rendezvoused at Nashville, numbered between five and seven hundred men.  The expedition is known in history as the Nickajack expedition, that being the name of the principal town against which its operations were directed.  The march was conducted with such secrecy and dispatch, that the enemy were taken completely by surprise.  In the battle which ensued, they were defeated with great slaughter, their towns burned, and crops destroyed.  This was the last hostile expedition in which Whitley was engaged during the way.
     Very soon after the general peace, he went to some of the southern Indian towns to reclaim some negroes, that had been taken in the contest; when he was put under more apprehension than he had been at any time during the war.  A half-breed, by the name of Jack Taylor, who spoke English, was acted as interpreter, if he did not intend to procure Whitley's death, at least determined to intimidate him.  The Indians being assembled, as soon as Whitley had declared the purpose of his visit,  Taylor told him he could not get the negroes; and taking a bell that was at hand, tied it to his waist, then seizing and rattling a drum, raised the war-whoop.  Whitley afterwards said, then telling the story, "I thought the times were equally; I looked at Otter Lifter; he had told me I should not be killed; - his countenance remained unchanged.  I thought him a man of honor, and kept my own."  At this time the Indians gathered about him armed, but fired their guns in the air, to his great relief.  Whitley finally succeeded in regaining his negroes, and returned home.
     Sometime after the affair of the negroes, he again visited the Cherokees, and was everywhere received in the most friendly manner.
     In the year 1813, being then in the sixty-fifth year of his age, he volunteered with the Kentucky militia, under Gov. Shelby, and fell in the decisive and victorious battle of the Thames, on the 5th of October.
     Col. Whitley was a man above the ordinary size, of great muscular power, and capable of enduring great fatigue and privation.  His courage as a soldier was unquestionable, having been foremost in seventeen battles with the Indians, and one with a more civilized foe.  In the battle of the Thames, he fell at the first fire.  His memory is cherished throughout Kentucky with profound respect, as that of one uniting the characters of patriot and hero.