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From:
Subject: Re: Dale, Arter & Carter Dale story
Date: Fri, 11 Aug 2006 13:27:06 EDT

HiGuys!
Patrick Porter is my something great grandfather in this story, but the
mention of the Dale name makes me send it to the list!

<< p. 564 Oct 1806 Dale and Catherine Carter sale of land to John
Montgomery ordered to be recorded. (According to Addington's History of
Scott Co, VA T.W.Carter was a granddaughter of Patrick Porter, by his
youngest daughter Catherine. So was Dale Carter some sort of inlaw to
Patrick and is this how the Arter Dale story got its genesis?) >>

The following story comes from Dr. Henry Martin's book "Pickin Up The
Porters" and is found on pages 117-119.

<<<<<<<<< The Indian Missionary >>>>>>>>>>>

It seems very strange indeed that an Indian boy would want to become a
missionary among the white people. But there was such a boy. His name was
Dale, and he belonged to the Mingo tribe which lived on the Ohio River.

Patrick Porter, who had a fort near Falling Creek on Clinch River, went with
the Clinch Valley troops to fight Cornstalk at Point Pleasant in 1774. One
night after the troops were told they could go home, there came to Patrick
Porter's camp fire the notorious Chief Logan.

Chiel Logan, tall and reddish-brown, clad in a hunting coat, moccasins and
leggins, tapped Patrick Porter on the shoulder and said, "You are Patrick
Porter. You live on CLinch RIver. I have been to your fort. Many times I
could have killed you, but I would not. You good man. You good father to
children who lived near your fort."

Patrick Porter reached out a hand. The Indian chief shook it.

"What can I do for you, Chief Logan?" Patrick Porter asked.

"Much," said the chief. "Not for me but for a friend of mine."

"What is it, Chief Logan?" Patrick Porter held to his long rifle. A coon
tail
hanging from his cap flapped in the wind. The air was chill. Leaves rustled
as they swept along over the woodland floor. It was autumn.

Out of the dark came an Indian boy. He was naked, save moccasins on his
feet and a piece of deer skin about his loins.

"This is Dale," the Indian chief said. Patrick Porter shook hands with the
boy.
"Glad to know you, Dale," he said. The boy merely grunted.

The campfire crackled. A flame leaped up, lighting Dale's tired face. Away
in the woods an owl hooted.

Chief Logan put a hand on Patrick Porter's shoulder again.

"White people kill all of Dale's family. Kill all of his kin. Now he wants
to
go with white men and learn to read from their books. He wants to preach the
word of God."

Patrick Porter was amazed. He said, "The white people kill your relatives,
yet
you want to go and live with them?"

Dale nodded.

"He want to go with good white people, like you, Capt. Porter. And I know
you are good. I pick you to take him."

Patrick Porter stooped and threw a fresh stick of wood onto the fire. Sparks
flew. Smoke twisted up in a spiral and was snatched by the wind.

"Chief Logan," Patrick Porter said, "we white people need to do some kind
deed for your people because the whites have been cruel. Especially have
they been cruel to your people, Chief Logan."

"Uh! Very cruel," Chief Logan grunted. HE folded his arms across his big
chest.

"Then Patrick Porter will take Dale?"

"I should like very much to take him," Patrick Porter replied. He paused and
leaned heavily on his gun. Then he added, "But I am afraid to take him. The
Migoes are still angry with the white people. They will follow me to my
home and kill me for taking the boy."

"No, no!" said Chief Logan, shaking his head. "We will fix that someway."

"I'm afraid we can't," Patrick Porter said. "Now you take him away before
your tribesmen come. The war is over. Let's spill no more blood."

Chief Logan and the Indian boy went away into the woods. The trees seemed
to cry. Patrick Porter felt bad. He lay down by the fire, but he could not
sleep. He wondered whether Chief Logan would bring Indian braves and
attack his camp.

Early next morning Patrick Porter, lying near the campfire, heard the leaves
rustle. He leaped up, gun in hand, ready to shoot. But after one close look
he
let the gun barrel drop. There before him stood the boy Dale, alone. In his
hand was a scrap of paper. He reached it toward Patrick Porter who took it,
turned to the firelight, and read in English which he knew a white man had
written. But to the note was Chief Logan's name. The note read:

"Mr. Porter, I ask you again to take Dale. I have fixed it so Mingoes won't
follow. I told them that Dale had been drowned in the river while
crossing."

Patrick Porter shook his head.

"I cannot take you," he said. "I tell you the Mingoes will find you. They
will
kill me and all my people."

The Indian boy reached out his hands, pleading. He did not speak.

Patrick Porter's heart was touched too deeply for him to keep on saying no.

"Very well,'" he finally said. "I will let you go. I shall risk it. Now
lie down
here by the fire and rest."

Dale traveled all the way to the Clinch River with Patrick Porter and lived
with him at the fort on Falling Creek near the river. He was a happy lad,
and
he really tried to learn. Little by little he came to understand English
words.
Then he begged to be taught to read and write. Patrick Porter saw to it that
he
had a tutor.

Patrick Porter was himself a student of the Bible, and he interested the
Indian
boy in it's stories. After a few years, Dale was able to read for himself.

"You need more name than Dale," Patrick told him one day. "and I am giving
you the name Arter. From now on you are Arter Dale."

"Good," said Dale, thumping his youthful chest. "I like the name Arter
Dale."

The boy grew to manhood, and there on Clinch River he married a white girl.
Today, many are the people who pride themselves in having in their veins the
blood of Arter Dale.

Arter became a leader in his community. He became a convert to Christianity
and later joined the Methodist Church. For many years he served the Church
as a minister preaching to the white people along the river valley.

SOURCE: History of Scott County, Virginia.

My notes:
As you can tell after reading the above story, the author of the above more
than likely took liberty with embellishing the prose of the story and making
it sound more exciting and poetic.

But the underlying truth remains, there was a man named ARTER DALE and
he did live and die as was stated in the above story. One Dale Carter was
killed by the Indians. There was another Dale Carter also there at the same
time.

Arter Dale and Dale Carter were two different people. Dale Carter descends
from Capt. Thomas CARTER of the Rev. War and his wife Katherine DALE.

Love
Nancy

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