The Story of Peter Looney
His year living with the Indians
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
Sergeant Peter Looney sat on the dried leaves and pine needles that littered the ground. He leaned against a large log with his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him, resting after a long walk through the woods. Through half opened eyes he studied the Indians who were guarding the seventeen men, three women and four girls being held captive. Every Indian had a rifle in one hand and a tomahawk held close by his belt. Peter suspected they were not all Shawnee. The Shawnee had been terrorizing the far western frontier of Virginia for over a year. These Indians still wore their red and black war paint, and Peter could see there was still blood drying on a few of the tomahawks. He wondered why they didn’t wash it off while they were walking up the creek. Peter leaned forward and whispered, “If what I know about the Shawnee be true, your life be a short one. You best pray the end be quick, and painless, though I doubt that be so.” Cole’s eyes flew open wide and he let out a sickening screech that penetrated the quiet of the forest. The Indians glared at him and one raised his tomahawk threateningly. Later Peter woke in a cold sweat, with the sound of musket shots ringing in his ears. He hoped he hadn’t cried out as he sat up and looked around. There was no moon and all he could see were stars overhead. He listened intently. The woods were ink black and high in the sky the twinkling stars shone like diamonds. The quiet was as deafening as the Shawnee war cry had been loud. He lay back down and waited for his heart to stop pounding. Presently a twig broke. A leaf rustled against other leaves and something scrapped against the bark of a tree. The gentle gait of four small hooves bounded into the blackness and Peter realized a deer had wandered close to camp.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
This story of Peter Looney is based on truth. He was a Sargent in the miltia at Fort Vause in southwestern Virginia. The fort was destroyed by one hundred Indians and some French soldiers. Seventeen men, three women and four girls were taken across the Shannandoah Mountains where the men had to walk up creeks, through dense forest and sleep on the ground with nothing to cover them. The women and girls were allowed to ride, but they too had to sleep on the ground, endure rain storms, heat and whatever food the Indians gave them. If their shoes wore out they walked barefoot.
This was a trip of several weeks before they were taken across the Ohio River. Not everyone lived to see the end of their journey. They were divided up among the different tribes. Most were never heard from again. But Peter was adopted by a chief and lived to tell his story.
About the Author
Peter Looney was a brother to my direct ancestor, Robert Looney, Jr.. After my mother, Leola Mae Looney Hessom retired she spent the greater part of twenty years researching the family history. After her death I went through the weighty material she had accumulated and found a copy of the newspaper article briefly telling Peter's story. Further research turned up more material, some of it is now on the internet. This novel, The Story of Peter Looney, his year with the Indians, is based on this information, but I have fictionalize part of the story in order to make it an interesting book. Although I grew up in Virginia, where this story begins and ends, I now live in Aurora, Colorado. I am retired and spend my time exercising and swimming when I'm not writing or doing research for my books. At least two months of the year are spent with my family in California. My B.S. degree is from Virginia Tech, and my B.F.A. if from Western Kentucky University.