war with England.  In that contest he became the ally of the United States, and although he took no active part in it, he exerted a very salutary influence over his tribe.  In January, 1813, he visited general Tapper’s camp, at fort McArthur, and while there, about ten o’clock one night, when sitting by the fire in company with the general and several other officers, some one fired a pistol through a hole in the wall of the hut, and shot Black Hoof in the face:  the ball entered the cheek, glanced against the bone, and finally lodged in his neck:  he fell, and for some time was supposed to be dead, but revived, and afterwards recovered from this severe wound.  The most prompt and diligent enquiry as to the author of this cruel and dastardly act, failed to lead to his detection.  No doubt was entertained that this attempt at assassination was made by a white man, stimulated perhaps by no better excuse than the memory of some actual or ideal wrong, inflicted on some of his own race by an unknown hand of kindred colour with that of his intended victim.[A]

[Footnote A:  James Galloway.]

Black Hoof was opposed to polygamy, and to the practice of burning prisoners.  He is reported to have lived forty years with one wife, and to have reared a numerous family of children, who both loved and esteemed him.  His disposition was cheerful, and his conversation sprightly and agreeable.  In stature he was small, being not more than five feet eight inches in height.  He was favored with good health, and unimpaired eye sight to the period of his death, which occurred at Wapakonatta, in the year 1831, at the age of one hundred and ten years.

CORNSTALK.

The reader of these pages is already familiar with the name of Cornstalk, “the mighty Cornstalk, sachem of the Shawanoes, and king of the Northern Confederacy.”  His conduct in the memorable battle of Point Pleasant establishes his fame as an able and gallant warrior.  He carried into that action the skill of an accomplished general, and the heroism of a dauntless brave.  Neither a thirst for blood, nor the love of renown, ever prompted him to arms.  He was the open advocate for honorable peace—­the avowed and devoted friend of the whites.  But he loved his own people and the hunting grounds in which they roamed; and, when his country’s wrongs demanded redress, he became the “thunderbolt of war,” and avenged the aggressions upon his tribe with energy and power.  He fought, however, that peace might reign; and, after the battle in which he so highly distinguished himself, was the first among his associated chiefs to propose a cessation of hostilities.  While he mourned over the inevitable doom of the Indians, he had the sagacity to perceive that all efforts to avert it, were not only useless, but, in the end, reacted upon them with withering influence.