VI 



Tomahawk Rights and Corn Titles 



IN THE soft brightness of an early morning in the month of 

 August, 1716, a company of ten periwigged gentlemen 

 stood on the lawn before Governor Spotswood's country 

 house near Fredericksburg, Virginia, while twice as many 

 Negro servants brought up their mounts. Drawn up in the lane 

 were two companies of Virginia Rangers, lanky youths in buck- 

 skin breeches, with muskets. Proudly apart, beside a tall cedar, 

 four Indians, naked save for breech-clouts and wampum neck- 

 laces, watched the great show of preparations at the house 

 front with curiosity tinged with disdain. 



From the steps Lady Spotswood and several other ladies 

 called and waved gay farewells as the gentlemen wheeled their 

 horses down the lane. The Rangers fell into line. After them 

 came a train of pack animals laden with equipment for a fort- 

 night's march. Guided by the four Indians, the party moved 

 out into the highroad. Most travelers leaving that house turned 

 to the east, taking the uneven country road winding between 

 worm-fences down to Williamsburg. These turned west. In a 

 few hours' march they would come to the end of that road. 

 Thereafter there would be only a trail running into the 

 primeval forest. Where that trail might take them no one ex- 

 actly knew. Perhaps, as they answered children who asked 

 that question, in a squirrel track up a sycamore tree. 



To Virginians, Virginia ceased at the "Back Woods/' a 

 strip of forest fifty miles deep lying between the open Tide- 

 water valleys and the line of hills that smudged the western 

 horizon. The "Blue Ridge" Virginians called this, appro- 

 priately. What lay on the other side of those hills? Would one 



TOO 



