I was born in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, on the fourth day of February, 1777. When I was about eight years old, my father having a large family to provide for, sold his farm with the expectation of acquiring larger possessions farther west. Thus he was stimulated to encounter the perils of pioneer life. He crossed the Ohio River and bought some improvements on what was called Beach Bottom Flats, two and a half miles from the river, and three or four miles above the mouth of Short Creek. Soon after he came there, the Indians became troublesome. They stole horses and various other things and killed a number of persons in our neighborhood.

When I was between eleven and twelve years old, I think it was in the fall of 1788, I was taken prisoner with my brother John, who was about eighteen months older than I. The circumstances are as follows: "One Saturday evening we were out with an older brother, and came home late in the evening; one of us had lost a hat and John and I went back the next day to look for it. We found the hat, and sat down on a log and were cracking nuts—after a short time we saw two men coming down from the direction of the house; from their dress we took them to be two of our neighbors, James PERDUE and James RUSSELL. We paid but little attention to them till they came quite near us. To escape by flight was now impossible and we had been disposed to try it. We sat still until they came up near us, one of them said,

My brother then asked them if they were Indians and they answered in the affirmative, and said we must go with them.

"One of them had a blue buckskin, which he gave my brother to carry, and without further ceremony we took up the line of march for the wilderness, not knowing whether we should ever return to the cheerful home we had left; and not having much love for our commanding officers, of course, we obeyed martial orders rather tardily. One of the Indians marched about ten steps before us and the other about the same distance behind us. After travelling some distance we halted in a deep hollow and sat down. They took out their knives and whet them and talked some time in the Indian tongue, which we could not understand. I told my brother that I thought they were going to kill us, and I believe he thought so too, for he began to talk to them, and told them his father was cross to them and made them work hard, said that they did not like hard work, that he would rather be a hunter and live in the woods. This seemed to please them for they put up their knives and talked more lively, and pleasantly to us. We returned the same familiarity and many questions passed between us; all parties were very inquisitive. They asked my brother which way to his home and he told them the contrary way every time they would ask him, although he knew the way very well; this would make them laugh; and they thought we were lost and that we knew no better.

"They conducted us over the Short Creek hills in search of horses, but found none; so we continued on foot. Night came on us and we halted in a low hollow, about three miles from CARPENTER’s Fort and about four miles from the place where they first took us. Our route being somewhat circuitous and full of zigzags we made headway but slowly. As night began to fall in around us I became fretful; my brother encouraged me by whispering to me that we would kill the Indians that night. After they had selected the place of encampment one of them scouted around the camp, while the other struck fire, which was done by stopping the touch holes of the gun and flashing powder in the pan. After the Indian got the fire kindled he reprimed the gun and went to an old stump to get some dry tinder wood for the fire; and while he was thus employed my brother John took the gun, cocked it and was about to shoot the Indian; but I was alarmed, fearing that the other might be close by and be able to overpower us; so I remonstratrated against his shooting and took hold of the gun and prevented the shot. I at the same time, begged him to wait till night and I would help him to kill them both. The Indian that had taken the scout came back about dark.

We took our suppers, and talked some time and went to bed on the naked ground to try to rest and study out the best mode of attack. They put us between them that they might be better able to guard us. After a while one of the Indians, supposing we were asleep, got up and stretched himself down on the other side of the fire and soon began to snore. John, who had been watching every motion, found they were sound asleep and whispered to me to get up. We got up as carefully as possible. John took the gun which the Indian struck fire with, cocked and placed it in the direction of the head of one of the Indians; he then took a tomahawk and drew it over the head of the other; I pulled the trigger and he struck at the same time; the blow falling too far back on the neck, only stunning the Indian; he attempted to spring to his feet, uttering most hideous yells. Although my brother repeated the blows with some effect the conflict became terrible and somewhat doubtful. The Indian, however, was forced to yield to the blows he received upon his head, and, in a short time, he lay quiet and still at our feet.

After we were satisfied that they were both dead, and fearing there were others close by, we hurried off and took nothing with us but the gun I shot with. We took our course towards the river, and in about three quarters of a mile we found a path which led to Carpenter’s Fort. My brother here hung his hat that we might know on our return where to turn off to find our camp. We got to the fort a little before daylight. We related our experience, and adventure, and a small party went back with my brother and found the Indian that had been tomahawked; the other had crawled away a short distance with the gun. A skeleton and a gun were found sometime after near the place where we had encamped." The above words are as told by Henry Johnson. Now one of our early historians, Dr. Doddridge.;, relates that after Wayne’s defeat of the Indians, in 1795, that a group of red warriors approached some of Wayne’s soldiers and asked what had become of the two boys that killed these two Indians in 1788, and when told that both of them were still at home with their parents, the leading Indian said,

This remarkable act of heroism was recognized by the United States Government, for they granted these brothers a large tract of land that embraced the site of the killing of these two Indians. The boys later sold the land and moved into what is now Monroe County, where Henry told the above story.

This story was written in the above words from his own hand in 1835. Henry married Patty RUSSELL, and John married into the prominent OKEY family. They were good citizens, Henry being elected the first mayor of the county seat, Woodsfield, in 1836. He died in 1850, and is buried in the latter city cemetery.

The fort known as Carpenter’s Fort was built in 1781 by John CARPENTER, in the Short Creek valley is the place of safety where John and Henry Johnson found refuge after killing their captors. It was in this fort that the first Methodist sermons were preached west of the Ohio River. The missionary minister was the Rev. George CALLAHAN. George;, and it was these people at this fort that Ensign ARMSTRONG called "religious fanatics" when he tried unsuccessfully to drive them out of this Indian territory, and have them stay east of the Ohio River.