Prior to the settlement of this county, all eastern  and central Indiana, from White River on the northwest to the Ohio on the south, was  occupied by the Delawares. They were a numerous and warlike tribe, very hostile to the whites, and not without good and sufficient cause. They had their home, originally, on the shores of the Atlantic and on the Delaware and Susquehanna rivers and their tributaries. Here it was that that  peaceful hero and truly just man, William Penn, found them and made his first treaty with them in 16S2.    They were a powerful nation, but lived on terms of peace and friendship with the whites, for, during Penn's life, they were treated justly and honorably. After his death, things were changed.    Sometime before 1736, the powerful confederacy of the Six Nations had waged a successful war against one of the divisions of the Delaware tribe, and had compelled it to acknowledge its supremacy. Claiming that, by right of conquest, they had acquired the ownership not only of the lands belonging to the conquered portion, but of the whole territory belonging to the Delaware tribe, they made a treaty without the knowledge or consent of the rightful owners of the soil, transferring their pretended title to the whites.
    Six or eight years afterward, the Delawares were driven from their homes, and, passing beyond the Alleghany Mountains, they built their wigwams on the River Mahoning, in western Pennsylvania. Here they sojourned until about the year 1784, when they were again compelled to leave their homes and push farther west. Their next stopping place was eastern and central Indiana and part of Ohio. Here they remained until, by treaties made from time to time, they had extinguished their title to all the rich domain, and agreed to go beyond the Mississippi River. In a treaty made January 15, 1819, at St. Mary's, in the State of Ohio, between Jonathan Jennings, Lewis Cass and Benjamin Parke, Commissioners of the United States, and the Delaware Nation of Indians, the following articles were agreed to:

Article 1. The Delaware Nation of Indians cede to the United States, all their claims to land in the State of Indiana.
Article 2. In consideration oE the aforesaid cession, the United States agree to provide for the Delawares a country to reside in upon the west side of the Mississippi, and to             guarantee to them the peaceable possession of the same.
Article 3. The United States also agree to pay to the Delawares the full value of their improvements in the country hereby ceded, which valuation shall be made by persons to be appointed for that purpose by the President of the United States, and to furnish the Delawares with 120 horses not to exceed in value $40 each, and a sufficient of pirogues to aid in transporting them to the west side of the Mississippi, and a quantity of provisions proportioned to their numbers, and the extent of their journey.
Article 4. The Delawares shall be allowed the use and occupation of their improvements for the term of three years from the date of this treaty if they so long require it.
Article 5. The United States agree to pay to the Delawares a perpetual annuity of $4,000, which, together with all annuities which the United States by former treaty agreed to pay them, shall be paid in silver at any place to which the Delawares may remove.
Article 6. The United States agree to provide and support a "blacksmith for the Delawares, after their removal to the west side of the Mississippi.
Article 8. A sum not exceeding $13,312.25, shall be paid by the United States, to satisfy certain claims against the Delaware Nation.
Article 9. This treaty after it shall be ratified by the President and Senate, shall be binding on the contracting parties.
    In accordance with this agreement, all that remained of the once powerful, proud and brave Delaware Nation resumed its journey toward the setting sun. Even beyond the mighty Father of Waters they have found no permanent resting place. The resist less tide of American progress has still pursued them. The command to move farther west has again and again sounded in their ears, and the last lone warrior of the Delawares will probably sing his death song to the wild music of the winds and waves of the Pacific Ocean. It is sad to contemplate the extinction of a brave though savage and untutored race; but that result is sure and inevitable when it stands in the way of a highly civilized people. Nor can we really regret it when we consider how vastly the amount of happiness in the world is increased. An Indian requires thousands of acres to support his family; on the same territory, a hundred happy families of the Caucasian race will find their homes.
    In speaking of these Indians, I, of course, have called them by that English name given them by the first settlers on our Eastern shores. The Delaware River received its name from an English nobleman, Lord De La War, who had an extensive grant of land from King James the Second on that stream, and the Indians inhabiting its banks became known as the Delaware Indians. They were, in the Indian tongue, called the LenniLenappes, and sometimes the Chihohockies. Their principal villages in this county were in Union Township, on the farm now owned by myself, and known as "Arnold's Home." As I have heretofore written a sketch of these Indians and the tragic fate of their old chief, I will here insert it. It was the first number of a series of papers contributed by me and published in the Rushville Republican, entitled "The Reminiscences of an Old Settler":
    " At the time they came to this country, Ben Davis, with a considerable band of followers, located himself on the pleasant banks of the creek which now bears his name, but which the Indians in tender remembrance of their former home, always called Mahoning. And I must here say that I think it a pity that the euphonious Mahoning has been thrown away, and the harsh and unpoetic Ben Davis used instead. Here, within 200 yards from where I write, stood their wigwams, and here were enacted the various phases of savage life. Here, the braves, to barbaric music, performed their war dance, chanting their deeds of daring on the battlefield: or, smoking their pipes, recounted their successful hunts of the swift footed deer, the sturdy bear or the fierce panther. Here the patient squaw nursed her papoose and dreamed pleasant dreams of the possible future of her offspring. Here, the gallant youth wooed and won his dusky bride, and enjoyed the perfect bliss, the satisfying rapture of knowing that the heart of her who is dearer to him than life is all his own. Here, the boys threw the tomahawk, wrestled, run and engaged in various athletic sports, to fit them for their future career in life. Hundreds of beech trees near their encampment bear the numerous scars inflicted by the stroke of the tomahawk. On many other trees are outlined the figures of men or animals; but the most characteristic memento was the scalp tree. It was a large, tall tree, on whose smooth bark was recorded the number of scalps taken. The number was over thirty; the marks were one above another, beginning about two feet from the ground and running up twenty or twenty five feet. The emblem for a man was a round skull-cap; that for a woman, the cap surmounted by a roll (to represent the twisted hair); that for a child, was a broad, horizontal line. This tree was a great curiosity to strangers, and was calculated to excite deep interest, as it was not only the memorial of the hard fought battle, but also of the lonely cabin surprised at the dead hour of night, and all its inmates ruthlessly butchered. This tree is no longer to be seen; it was prostrated by a violent wind, many years since, much to my regret.
    " Personally, Ben Davis was a large and powerful Indian warrior, a deadly foe to the whites; and he had frequently led his braves on raids into the dark and bloody ground the debatable land of Kentucky. In most of the battles for the possession of the present States of Ohio and Indiana, he had taken an active part. He was true to his friends, implacable to his foes, fond of fire water, and when under its influence, regardless of his surroundings, would boast of his prowess and the number of scalps he had taken. In short, he was a representative man of his race, a fair type of the brave, crafty and boastful Indian warrior.
    " After the defeat of the Indians at Tippecanoe, they were compelled to sell their lands and again move westward. But old Ben Davis, although well aware that he was looked upon with dislike and suspicion by the white settlers, still occasionally revisited his former hunting grounds. In the year 1820, he had encamped on Blue Creek, some three miles from Brookville. He had been there, perhaps, a week, daily visiting the town and drinking too much whisky. One day, in the Widow Adair's tavern, he was boasting of his bloody deeds, unmindful of the angry glances of the crowd around him, and, among other things, related how he, with his band, surprised a lonely settler in Kentucky, killing him with all his family except one boy, who happened to be a short distance from the cabin, when attacked, and who, although hotly pursued, eluded his enemies and escaped. Now, in that crowded bar-room there was one intensely interested listener, a stern man, who heard from the lips of the old chieftain the particulars of the story of his family's massacre; for he was that flying boy who had saved his life by fleetness of foot when all his kindred fell. Without a word he left the room. The next day Ben Davis did not make his appearance in Brookville; but it excited but little remark, for he was erratic in his movements. The second day, some one passing his camp found the old chief cold in death, with a bullet hole in his forehead and his pipe fallen by his side, for he had been sitting by his fire, smoking, when he received his sudden message to visit the happy hunting grounds of the Indian's paradise. It was fitting death for so fierce a spirit, for, though he had escaped the whistling shot and trenchant steel in many a battle, he finally fell a victim to private vengeance. Public opinion, while unanimous as to the author of the deed, recognized the terrible provocation and justified the act, the more readily as many had lost friends by the hands of the red man. No judicial investigation was ever had, and Mr. Young still held a respectable standing in society."
    Ben Davis never forgave or forgot an injury. When his tribe, broken and defeated, was compelled to cede its lands, he held himself aloof, refusing to join in any treaty, though sullenly submitting to its requirements, and while bowing to the decrees of an inexorable and resist less destiny, declined, by word or deed, to approve or sanction them. His name will be perpetuated by that lovely stream, which waters some of the best lands of Rush County.