Matthews Flournoy and William Whitley had made this trip
many times in recent years. Everyone in the party was carrying a heavy pack of
supplies back to their family and friends in Kentucky. They had purchased the
items in Virginia and crossed the mountains back into Kentucky by way of the
Cumberland Gap.
2 Although these trips were necessary to sustain the
new settlements within the territory, they remained a dangerous enterprise.
Native Americans had seen how these land hungry White people had treated their
brethren across the mountains, and they were relentlessly hostile to their
presence on this side of the Appalachian range.
3 “Look,” Matthews said as he pointed to shapes moving
among the trees. “They’ve been following us for a while now,” Whitley replied.
4 The entire party was winded now. They had been
walking along a narrow and winding path which the Indians had used for
centuries, and that buffalo and deer had made many centuries prior to that.
When one was traveling on foot, it seemed like the trail would rise forever
into the dark and near silent forest which covered these mountains. To be sure,
it had a kind of beauty to it that almost everyone who had seen it could
appreciate, but it also had a way of making one feel uneasy and vulnerable.
5 Suddenly, a blood curdling scream broke the silence
and an arrow whizzed by Matthews and glanced off a small Chestnut tree that
stood just beyond the trail. “Find cover!” Whitley shouted. Then the air was
thick with arrows that seemed to be coming from every direction at once. “Keep moving
and use these big uns for cover!” Whitley shouted again.
6 He had just fired his rifle and was busily reloading
when he noticed that Matthews was standing frozen behind a large oak tree.
“Goddammit, Flournoy, keep moving!” he bellowed. “I can’t,” he shouted back.
“They got me in my knee,” he explained.
7 Just then, William saw a brave drawing his bow to
release an arrow pointed directly at his friend. He raised his rifle and fired,
but he was too late. Whitley killed the Indian, but his arrow had found its
mark in the middle of Matthews’ chest. He was dead.
8 “Good God, what will his wife and children do,”
William thought to himself. There wasn’t, however, any time to indulge such
thoughts. The whole party was in mortal danger.
9 “Keep up your fire and move for those rocks,” he
shouted to the others. Little by little, William and the others retreated down
the mountain.
10 Fortunately, the Indians had business elsewhere and
did not pursue them, and they managed to escape any further harm. They were all
still shaking like leaves in a strong wind when they finally stopped and made
camp.
11 “I can’t believe Matthews is gone,” one of them
said. “Why didn’t he move?” another asked. “He’d taken an arrow in his knee,”
William explained. “We ought to go back and bury him,” another said as he
stared at the ground. “We’ll go back in the morning,” William replied. “It’s
too dangerous right now.”
12 That night, no one got much sleep. William stared
at the fire and listened to the wolves howling off in the distance. “I’m going
to have to build a fortress if I’m going to live in Kentucky,” he thought to
himself.
13 The next morning they returned to the Gap and found
the place where they had been attacked the day before. The wolves, however, had
eaten a great deal of Matthews’ corpse during the night.
14 “We’ll have to bury him right here,” William told
them. So, they all set about the task of scratching out a shallow grave with
sticks, hatchets and a small shovel. They then reassembled as much of his torn
and dismembered body as they could find and covered it with stones.
15 “God bless Matthews and his family, and help us to
live in this land,” one of the men offered in solemn prayer. Then they all
gathered up what remained of their belongings and headed for Kentucky.
16 Now these are the generations of Matthews Flournoy,
a man made in God’s own image:
17 Matthews Flournoy married Patsy Pryor, and they had
a son named Samuel.
18 Samuel married Nancy Martin, and they had twelve
children together.
19 Two of their sons, John and Samuel Martin Flournoy
left home and floated down the Mississippi River on a flatboat.
20 Their daughter, Nancy, married Abraham Keel; and
they had a daughter named Sarah.
21 Sarah Keel married Joseph McElwain, and they had a
daughter named Frances.
22 Frances McElwain married James William Reynolds,
and they had children together.
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