Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) SCOUTING WITH DANIEL BOONE * * * * * BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR THREE COLONIAL BOYS THREE YOUNG CONTINENTALS WASHINGTON'S YOUNG AIDS THE BOYS OF OLD MONMOUTH A JERSEY BOY IN THE REVOLUTION THE RIDER OF THE BLACK HORSE THE RED CHIEF MARCHING AGAINST THE IROQUOIS THE CAMP-FIRE OF MAD ANTHONY LIGHTHORSE HARRY'S LEGION THE YOUNG SHARPSHOOTER TECUMSEH'S YOUNG BRAVES THE BOY SOLDIERS OF 1812 FOUR BOYS IN THE YELLOWSTONE FOUR BOYS IN THE YOSEMITE WARD HILL AT WESTON WITH FLINTLOCK AND FIFE THE FORT IN THE FOREST * * * * * [Illustration: "On the August air arose the reports of many rifles and the terrifying whoops of the Indians"] _PIONEER SCOUT SERIES_ SCOUTING WITH DANIEL BOONE BY EVERETT T. TOMLINSON [Illustration: Logo] _Illustrated by_ NORMAN ROCKWELL GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1917 _Copyright, 1914, by_ THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA _For Boys' Life_ _Copyright, 1914, by_ EVERETT T. TOMLINSON _All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian_ Preface Perhaps not unnaturally in certain details there is a slight confusion or divergence in the various works that recount the heroic deeds of Daniel Boone. The men of that day were making history rather than recording what they did. There is, however, a striking uniformity in all the records as to the simple faith and almost fatalistic conviction of Daniel Boone that he was called to be a pathfinder for the new nation in America. His courage, reverence, rugged honesty, and unselfishness, his childlike simplicity that was mixed with a certain shrewdness, at least in his dealings with the Indians, are, however, qualities in which the historians mostly agree. I have cast this record into story form and have used the license of a story-teller. I have incorporated a few adventures on the border which strictly do not belong to this tale. Every one of them, however, is true, and I hope will help in giving a true picture of those early and trying days. In the midst of it all I have placed the great scout. The qualities he displayed are the same that are necessary for success in our day or any day. The problems may vary from generation to generation, but the elements of true manhood are ever the same. I have made free use of the many historical works which portray the character of the great scout. First of all is the diary of Daniel Boone himself. In addition to that fascinating story, the following works also should be read by those who are interested in his life: "The Adventures of Colonel Daniel Boone," by General Filson; "Life of Boone," by Timothy Flint; "Daniel Boone and the Hunters of Kentucky," by W. H. Bogart; "Daniel Boone, the Pioneer of Kentucky," by J. S. C. Abbott; "The Adventures of Daniel Boone, the Kentucky Rifleman," by the author of "Uncle Philip's Conversations "; "Four American Pioneers," by Frances M. Perry and Katherine Beebe. The various publications of the Filson Club of Louisville, Kentucky, have also been helpful. "The Siege of Bryant's Station," by the President of the Club, Colonel Reuben Durrett, and "The Battle of Blue Licks," by Colonel Bennett H. Young, are most interesting. McClung's "Sketches of Western Adventure," and Strickland's "Pioneers of the West" have provided many interesting details. The author also gratefully acknowledges the aid he has had from some of the lineal descendants of Boone himself. If English boys are eager to hear about the heroic adventures of King Arthur, Robin Hood, and other characters, in part at least legendary, why should not American boys be equally interested in the true stories of the rugged heroes of their own land? There never has been a time when the development of a true patriotism was more needed than it is to-day. Our perils and problems are not concerned with savages and wild beasts, but they may be no less dangerous than those which confronted our forefathers. How to meet them, what qualities ought to be strengthened in the life of an American boy, how best to inspire the younger generation with love and devotion for our country, are vital questions of the present. The author believes there is no better way of doing this than by interesting our boys in such heroic men as Daniel Boone. EVERETT T. TOMLINSON. Elizabeth, New Jersey. Contents CHAPTER PAGE I. IN THE WILDERNESS 3 II. HUNTER SAM 13 III. THE HUNT FOR GAME 23 IV. THE GOBBLERS 33 V. PELEG'S NEW PLACE 42 VI. SCHOOLMASTER HARGRAVE 51 VII. TWO SCOUTS 61 VIII. PELEG'S ENCOUNTER 72 IX. AT THE SPRINGS 80 X. A TERRIFIED BAND 90 XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SCHOOLMASTER 100 XII. AN ATTACK 110 XIII. THE WHITE SHAWNEE 121 XIV. THE HIDDEN CANOE 131 XV. GATHERING CLOUDS 141 XVI. CAPTIVES 151 XVII. THE PURSUIT 161 XVIII. A BAND OF SCOUTS 171 XIX. THE CAPTURE 181 XX. AN OFFER OF RELEASE 190 XXI. FLIGHT 200 XXII. THE COMING OF BLACKFISH 211 XXIII. FOUR WARRIORS AND MORE 223 XXIV. A DECOY AND AN ATTACK 233 XXV. A FIELD OF CORN 242 XXVI. THE WHITE SHAWNEE AGAIN 251 XXVII. THE STRUGGLE IN THE RAVINE 260 XXVIII. AT THE LOWER BLUE LICKS 271 XXIX. TO THE MEETING-PLACE 282 XXX. CONCLUSION 293 ILLUSTRATIONS "On the August air arose the reports of many rifles and the terrifying whoops of the Indians" _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE "'What is that?' At the question the two pioneer boys stopped abruptly" 10 "He was a tall, lean man, quiet in his bearing, and with every indication of self-control, as well as of strength, stamped upon his face and form" 28 "The Indian had been able to draw his knife and struck at her again and again while the bear held him in one of her most fervent hugs" 76 "Boone quickly rallied his startled followers and when the red men returned the hardy settlers were ready and awaiting their coming" 116 "One of the men who had been stationed as a guard was shot early in the morning" 126 "The scout, with his family, returned to Boonesborough" 220 "Silently the men crossed the ford" 276 SCOUTING WITH DANIEL BOONE CHAPTER I IN THE WILDERNESS "What is that?" At the question the two pioneer boys stopped abruptly. From within the forest they had heard the sound of a snapping branch. The sound itself had not been loud, but the quiet of that September day in 1773 had been sharply broken by the slight noise from the brush. For a brief time both boys listened intently and then one of them went back a short distance along the trail over which the little procession had advanced, carefully looking for signs of danger on either side. And there was need for caution. Under the leadership of Daniel Boone five families besides his own had been making their way slowly through the unbroken wilderness from the settlement on the Yadkin in North Carolina. At Powell's Valley, through which they recently had passed, forty men had joined the little company, thereby adding greatly to its strength, and increasing the confidence of the hardy settlers. As the little cavalcade spread out in a long line, an advance guard of five opened the way, while three rear guards, of two each at irregular intervals, were stationed to prevent surprises from the hostile Indians or attacks by the prowling beasts of prey that were wont to follow the trail of men in the wilderness. At this time the band was crossing Powell's Mountain, and the extreme rear guard was made up of James, the oldest son of Daniel Boone, and his friend, Peleg Barnes, the latter being one of the number that had been added to the company when the settlers arrived at Powell's Valley. Persuaded that no enemy was near, the two boys resumed their positions and proceeded on their way. Each boy was dressed in a hunting costume and wore leggings and fringed trousers made from the skin of the deer. Each also was armed with a rifle which he carried almost as naturally as if it was a part of himself. Powder-horns and bullet-pouches were swinging from their shoulders. It was manifest from the attitude and the manner of both young hunters that they were familiar with the ways of the wilderness and were alert to detect signs of the presence of friend or foe. "I don't like that noise," suggested Peleg in a low voice. "'Tis the second time we have heard it since we have been the rear guard to-day." His companion smiled and did not reply, and for a time Peleg also remained silent. He was a restless, dark-haired, muscular, and well-grown boy, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age, which also was the age of his more quiet comrade. The boys were warm friends, but like many men of the earlier days, they were prone to silence, though little that occurred in the nearby forest escaped their attention. The wilderness through which they were advancing was almost untrodden. Confidence and hope were expressed on the rugged faces of the boys, however, for they early had learned to live in the presence of continual danger from the prowling beasts and the hostile red men. "I never knew a man just like your father," suggested Peleg, at last breaking the silence. "Neither did I," replied James Boone, with a smile that strongly lighted up his face, as he turned to his friend. "He never seems to think about himself. He is taking this expedition to the land he has found because he believes it to be for our advantage for him to do so." "He knows it is." "I heard him tell about the wonderful sky and soil he had found there; and it must be worth while to go, else he would not be advising us to leave the Yadkin and cross all these mountains into the wilderness. I never saw such a strong man as your father is. I don't believe he has an ounce of fat on his body. Is it true that he is having a record kept of the places he has found and the journeys he has made?" "It is." "I should like much to see it. I can read writing, and if some time you will ask him to grant me the privilege I shall want to read what he has had written----" Peleg stopped abruptly and grasped his companion's arm, as both boys were startled once more by the sudden snapping of a branch apparently only a few yards to the left. Instantly both were listening breathlessly, and were holding their rifles in readiness, while they peered anxiously into the brush from which the threatening sound had come. "I declare to you," whispered Peleg, "that there is some one following us." "Verily," whispered James Boone, although he did not turn away his eyes from the forest as he spoke. The alarm of the two young guards was not unnatural, as has been said. On the lower slopes of the mountain great trees were growing, but as the band of emigrants had steadily climbed, the timber diminished, and even underbrush had become somewhat thinned. Still, on every side of the trail there were sufficient bushes to hide the presence of an enemy that might be following the pioneers. Both boys knew that game of many kinds abounded in the wilderness. Many a time their skill had been tested long before they had left their homes on the Yadkin. That their perils would be increased as they withdrew into the region in which the foot of no white men except Daniel Boone and his comrade had ever trod they both were well aware. On this September day the advancing settlers had been moving in a much longer and thinner line than had been adopted the preceding day. The difficulties of the ascent and the frequent great rocks in their way made their progress over the mountain more difficult and different from the easier march through the valley on the opposite side. Only an occasional white man had been seen since they had left their homes, and there was constant fear of the red men, almost all of whom were exceedingly hostile at this time and very jealous in guarding their own domains from the incursions of the whites. Perhaps not unnaturally most of those who were in Boone's party looked upon the Indian as a natural enemy. Few were mindful of the fact that the red men were but doing their utmost to defend their own homes and retain their hunting grounds from the trespassing whites, who, they were fearful, would soon push them from the region, unless by determined warfare the Shawnees and other neighbouring tribes might be able to prevent their entrance and settlement. It was well known that the region into which Daniel Boone was leading his company on that September day was considered by the Indians to be the best of all their hunting grounds. There the buffalo and the deer abounded. Wild turkeys were so numerous that the report which Daniel Boone had brought scarcely had been credited by his friends. There were times in the autumn when great flocks of wild pigeons sweeping through the woods might be felled with a club by a man standing in the way of their advance. It is true that where so much game was found dangerous animals also abounded. The panther and bear were much in evidence, and prowling wolves often made the night hideous with their weird and terrifying howls. There was no one in the advancing company who did not fully understand what the cost of seeking and making a new home in the wilderness was likely to be. Doubtless some would fall victims to the cunning of the hostile red men. Others were certain to lose their lives in attacks by the treacherous panther, the deadliest four-footed foe of the white men in the new world. When the two young pioneers, who formed the rear guard of the slowly moving procession, resumed their advance, both were silent for a time and keenly observant of the woods on either side of the trail left by those who had preceded them. In places the autumn foliage already was tinted with scarlet or gold. The soft air of the September day became slightly cooler as the party steadily approached the higher regions of Powell's Mountain. In the midst of such surroundings it was impossible for the young hunters long to retain their anxiety, though neither ceased his keen watchfulness. "How old is your father?" inquired Peleg at last. "About forty." "I wish much to hear him tell of his adventures in this land which he says the Indian calls Kantuckee. Do you know what that word means?" "No." "Do you think your father is fearful the redskins may attack us before we come to the Licks, where he affirms he will make our settlement?" "You must ask him," replied young Boone. "I do not believe he thinks that we or any other band of settlers will ever build a home in such a country as he has found without having to fight for it. Peleg, I have almost decided that one never gets anything worth having without having to fight some kind of a battle." "That is surely so," replied Peleg, laughing softly as he spoke. "I shall never forget how Schoolmaster Hargrave had to fight to teach me to use a quill. The letters somehow would not come, not even when he set his best copy for me. He told me one day that they looked like a whirlwind in distress. I was minded several times to give up the whole attempt, but he told me to fight on, and now I am glad that I did." "I am told that the schoolmaster later expects to come where we are going." "So I have heard. I hope he will leave his ferrule behind. Whew! My knuckles ache now with the mention! Still _he_ seemed to get some pleasure out of it, but----" Peleg stopped suddenly as a faint cry was heard far in their rear. It was a sound not unlike that made by a child in distress. Weird, pathetic, startling as it was, neither of the boys was for a moment unaware of its meaning. It was the cry of a panther far in the distance. [Illustration: "'What is that?' At the question the two pioneer boys stopped abruptly"] And panthers not infrequently hunted in pairs. It might be possible that two of the treacherous creatures had been following the slowly moving caravan, for slow-moving it was indeed. The children and women were carried on the backs of the horses. The few heavy wagons were dragged with difficulty over the rough ground, and many a time the entire band was compelled to halt while the men felled a tree which blocked their advance. "I tell you," said Peleg in a whisper, "that sound we heard before was made by a painter." "It may be true." "Will you stay here while I go back over the trail a little way to see if I can find any signs of the varmints? It is yet too light for them to attack us, but I should like to know if there is a pair on our trail." "Do not go far," said James Boone hesitatingly. "You may be sure that I shall not be over-venturesome. I shall return directly." In a moment Peleg disappeared from the sight of his companion as he lightly and yet swiftly sped back over the way by which they had come. Left alone, young Boone seated himself upon a fallen tree and awaited the return of his companion. Holding his rifle lightly in his hands after he had carefully looked to its priming, he was keenly observant of all about him. He had been disturbed more than he had acknowledged to Peleg by the sounds which they had heard. He had known of instances in which a panther had trailed a man for many hours. The conjecture of Peleg that a pair of the hated beasts might be following the slowly moving settlers was not improbable. As the moments passed the anxiety of the young hunter for his companion increased. No sound to alarm him had broken in upon the silence, and yet somehow the son of the great pioneer scout was anxious for his friend. Rising from his seat he ran swiftly in the direction in which Peleg had gone. In a few moments he discovered his friend standing beneath a spreading chestnut and holding his gun in such a manner that it was manifest that he had heard some sound to alarm him. A huge panther crouched upon the limb of the chestnut tree, almost directly above the place where Peleg was standing. CHAPTER II HUNTER SAM If the vision of James Boone had not been trained, and unusually keen, the sight of the crouching animal would have escaped him. Its tawny skin was of a colour not unlike that of the tinged foliage of the branches of the chestnut upon which it was lying. There was an occasional nervous twitching of its tail, but otherwise it was as motionless as if it had been carved of marble. So intense was the interest of the savage beast in the young hunter directly beneath it that it was unaware of the approach of James Boone. Even as he perceived the animal, however, its muscles tightened, and it prepared for a leap upon the unsuspecting boy. Instantly bringing his rifle to his shoulder, and taking careful aim, James fired at the motionless target. He ignored the exclamation of the startled Peleg, who leaped to one side at the report of the rifle, and then, glancing at his friend, followed the direction of his gaze, and became aware of the peril above him. For a moment the beast seemed to be unharmed. It remained in the same position, motionless, and with its head leaning below the limb to which it clung. Young Boone did not move from the place where he was standing, but instantly began to reload his rifle, all the time keeping careful watch upon the movements of the beast. Suddenly the panther began to claw at the limb to which it had been clinging. It was manifest that its hold was broken or breaking. The long claws were driven savagely into the bark, but in spite of all its efforts the creature plainly was slipping. There were two or three snarls, and once it turned and snapped savagely at its side. The tail began to lash the branch, and then suddenly became motionless. Slowly the ability of the savage beast to maintain itself was departing. A stream of red showed the effect which young Boone's bullet had taken. He had aimed just a little back of the fore-shoulder, and it was difficult for him now to understand how even a panther, tenacious of life as the beast was known to be, was still able to cling to the branch. Struggling, snarling, the great beast turned and gradually but surely began to slip from its perch. For a moment it almost seemed that it would be able to maintain its grasp even after its body had turned to the underside of the huge branch. But all at once, without a sound, the long body fell, striking hard upon the ground twenty feet or more below. Before the animal could show whether or not it was still alive, Peleg, who now had recovered from his first alarm, raised his rifle and fired at the prostrate body. There was slight question now as to the approaching death of the savage beast. It lay almost motionless on the ground, but there was still an occasional nervous twitching of its long tail. Both boys, however, were too skilled in the art of the hunter to venture within reach of the terrible claws until they were satisfied that the dreaded enemy was indeed dead. "There may be another," said Peleg nervously, as he glanced into the woods after he had hastily reloaded his rifle. "That cry we heard probably was the call of this one's mate." "That may be so," said young Boone. "What are you going to do?" inquired Peleg in surprise, as he saw his companion place his rifle against a tree and draw his hunting-knife from his belt. "I am going to skin this big cat." "Do you think we ought to stop for that?" asked Peleg. "Yes." "Then let me help." "No, you keep guard. Our guns may have stirred up more trouble than we know." Acting upon this suggestion, both boys became silent while young Boone began his task. Swiftly and deftly he slit the beautiful skin the length of the body, and then did likewise on each leg. So skilful was the young hunter that in a brief time he had drawn back the skin sufficiently to cause him to call to his companion, "Come here and help me." Together the two boys then tore the skin from the body, and young Boone rolled the panther's hide into a small, compact bundle. He tied this securely with a deerskin thong, and then added it to his burden. At once the boys began to run swiftly to regain the distance they had lost. They had not advanced far, however, before they saw some one approaching them on the trail. "'Tis as I thought," said James Boone with a smile. "Our guns have 'roused our friends." "That's Sam Oliver." "I see it is," replied James. Neither of the boys spoke again as the man rapidly approached them. Both knew him as one of the hunters of the company, and as one whose labours chiefly were confined to that field. Sam was perhaps fifty years of age, tall, rawboned, sunburned, with an expression of face not unpleasing, and a frequent twinkle in his eyes. As for felling the trees or building the houses of logs, Sam was willing for others to assume those labours, and whatever honours might accrue from such tasks. For himself he much preferred to do his part by supplying the band with game. Frequently the two boys had gone with the trapper when he had made the rounds of his traps, and in the warm days of summer nothing had delighted either more than to accompany him into the forest, where they were interested in the weird, and at times fantastic, tales Sam related of his personal adventures, and also of the characteristics of the denizens of the forest. "What's wrong, lads?" inquired the hunter as he approached. "Nothing is wrong now," laughed Peleg. "We shot a painter back here. And there is its hide," he added as he pointed with pride to the bundle which was suspended from his companion's shoulders. Glancing at the object to which his attention had been directed, Sam whistled and then said, "Seen any more?" "No, sir." "Seen any signs o' redskins?" "No, sir. Have you seen any?" "That's for the King to say," replied the hunter, laughing in apparent heartiness, though no sound escaped his lips. The expression, "that's for the King to say," was one that fell so frequently from the lips of Sam Oliver that both boys understood what he meant. It was his method of evading a direct reply to any question he did not wish to answer. "All of which means," said James, "that you _have_ seen some redskins." "A few signs. Nothing very bad, and nothing that should be spoken of by either of you. In course we are bound to find the varmints following us, but I don't think they will attack us if we are on our guard. We must do our best, and after that there is no good in trying to do anything more. Your father says everything that happens is right, or it wouldn't be. Strange," he added, as he again looked at the panther's skin which James Boone was carrying, "strange that you should have got him so easy. I have known the time when it would have taken half-dozen bullets to put an end to a fighting painter." "Have you shot a good many of them?" inquired Peleg. "Oh, a few, a few," replied the hunter. "The strangest sight I ever see was one time when I was followin' three o' the varmints. They led me a hard chase, and it was two days before I caught up with them, and when I did, I almost wished I had not." "Why?" "I will tell you. When I came near a big open space there in the woods I heard the worst screechin' I ever heard in my life. You simply cannot describe it. They were snarlin' and spittin' and screamin' and growlin', and sometimes it seemed as if they were doin' all four things at once. My first thought was that this was no place for Sam Oliver. It sounded like a hundred painters were fightin' to the death. I reckon I did turn back a little way, but the screechin' and the screamin' kep' up so that I finally decided that I must find out what was goin' on." "What was it?" inquired Peleg. "When I crep' up close to the clearin' and peeped out I saw two painters a-fightin'. They were crouchin' on the ground facin' each other and callin' each other every name they could think of in painter language. I did not know what had happened to the third painter, but I knew I ought not to stay there long. But all at once the two varmints leaped at each other and a minute later they were in such a plight that you would not have known what kind of beasts they was. They had ripped and torn and clawed and scratched and bit each other until it did not seem as if what was left could hang together. Then all at once one of them got the other fellow by the throat and it wasn't long before he said good-bye." "Did you shoot him?" asked Peleg. "No, for just then I heard a noise right behind me and when I looked back I see the third painter creepin' toward me and I fired at it and ran. Somehow I managed to get away, and next day I went back to the scene o' battle but I could not find anythin' there except the dead painter. The others had gone. I had been so long trailin' them that I thought I wouldn't follow any further. But if I live to be a hundred years old I shall never forget that there fight I saw between those two big cats! There are some animals," continued the hunter, "that seem to have reg'lar feuds, jest like fam'ly troubles. They may fight one another once in a while, but they will make up to fight the enemies of the fam'ly every time they get a chance." "What do you mean?" asked Peleg. "Well, for instance, there's the beaver and the otter. They seem to have had a declaration of war from the very beginning same as cats and dogs. I see a beaver house one day las' winter standin' right in the middle o' the pond which the beavers had made. You know they build a long tube right up through the centre o' the floor which looks somethin' like a chimney. The top o' this one was about four feet higher than the floor, and it was a good two feet through. The water round their house came almost to the top of the door. Mr. Beaver, when he wanted to go into his house, used to dive and come up through the tube, then he would shake himself, and slide down to his floor, which was always dry. It was always warm, too, for even in the coldest weather the water all round the house kep' it from freezin'. I reckon this particular fam'ly was pretty well provided for because they were all fat. Leastwise they looked as if they might have been, though they were dead when I saw them." "How was that?" inquired Peleg. "Why, the otter had gone after them." "Into their house?" "No! No! No otter would ever dare do that. In a fight in a place like that the beaver, which has such strong teeth and is such a strong little brute anyway, would have the advantage every time. The otter works in 'nother way. The beaver fam'ly had been busy all through the summer hidin' their strips o' poplar and birch and willows in the bottom o' the lake which they had made. They intended to have their easy time in the winter, and they do, too, unless some otters happen along. "In this case I am tellin' you about, a couple o' otters had tried to break into the house, but the walls was hard as granite. If the otter can only get the beaver into the water he can catch him easily, because the otter is as quick as a fish. So the beaver simply works on the defensive and builds a house strong enough to keep out any otter that may happen along. But pretty soon the otters begin to look into the beavers' dam. By and by, when they find a weak spot, where they can work a hole straight through, they begin their job. When the weather is not too cold and the ice not too thick, just as soon as the water in the lake begins to drop a little, then the beavers begin to hunt for the leak. But when the water falls fast and there is a covering of ice all over the lake and sometimes the ice caves in, you see the beavers then cannot get their provisions, and the inside o' their houses is as cold as it is outside. "The otters have a reg'lar course they follow, goin' from one place to 'nother and making their rounds 'bout every ten days to two weeks. I reckon in the case o' this beaver fam'ly I am tellin' you about that the otters came back in a fortnight or so and found the beavers all dead or in no shape to fight. Here comes Daniel Boone himself," the hunter exclaimed suddenly, "and I reckon you boys will have to explain to him what you meant by your shots back yonder." CHAPTER III THE HUNT FOR GAME At the words of the hunter the boys looked up and saw the scout approaching. He was a tall, lean man, quiet in his bearing, in the prime of middle life, and with every indication of self-control, as well as of strength, stamped upon his face and form. His expression showed that he was anxious concerning the shots which had been fired, but as he drew near the boys he was not the first to speak. Peleg's admiration was manifest in the manner in which the young pioneer looked up to the great leader, though the boy, like others of his day and age, seldom spoke to his elders unless first they had spoken to him. In response to the question which was expressed in the eyes of Daniel Boone, rather than in words, Sam Oliver said quietly, "The boys shot a painter." There was a slight smile on the face of Daniel Boone as he said, "Did they? Was it necessary?" he added, as he turned to his son. "Yes, sir," replied young Boone. "The varmint was just ready to spring on Peleg. He was crouching on the branch of a tree directly over him, and if I had not fired he would have had him." "It must be right. You know," added Boone quietly, smiling again as he spoke, "I am one of those who believe that whatever happens is right." "And yet," suggested the hunter, "you don't stop tryin' for yourself, nor for others, either." "Not at all," answered the scout. "A man must follow the best light he can get and then, beyond that, where he cannot go, he must believe that things do not 'happen.' I have heard some men blame their 'luck' for what befell them. I have never thought there was any such thing as 'luck.' The trouble is we do not always see the connection in events, and in our ignorance we say a thing 'happens.' I am sorry the boys had to shoot the painter." "I never knew," laughed the loquacious Sam, "that you had any sympathy to waste on those critters." "I haven't," replied Daniel Boone, a trace of a smile again appearing on his face as he spoke. "I am not sorry that the painter was shot. I am sorry that the boys had to shoot it. Just now I am more afraid of their rifles than I am of painters." The trio looked quickly into the face of the leader, but his quiet expression was unchanged, and what he may have implied by his statement he did not explain. "I do not love the varmints," said Sam, shaking his head. "I shall put them out of the world every chance I get." "So shall I," assented Boone, "although sometimes I feel sorry that I have to do so. I do not suppose that a painter is following anything else than the instinct which was given him, the same as a hound dog follows the track of a rabbit." "How about men?" inquired Sam. "I believe the same thing is true of men," said Daniel Boone seriously. "Fortunately for me, I had a good father and a good mother, so that when I was a child I was kept free from many of the things which drive some people I have known into divers sorts of evil." The little party was advancing steadily during this conversation, and apparently, now that the explanation of the two shots had been given, the leader was no longer apprehensive. To Peleg, however, who was watchful of the man's every movement, it seemed as if he was continually listening for sounds which the others were unable to hear. The boy was aware of the threatening peril from the Indians, although not once had a red man been seen since the emigrants had departed from Powell's Valley. But the fact that the Shawnees kept themselves hidden from sight by no means proved that they might not be near. Frequently he and James Boone had talked over the possibility of an attack by their foes, but the presence of the additional forty men that had joined the expedition recently provided an added sense of security. They felt that it was doubtful if even a large band of warriors would venture to attack a party so well defended as was that now led by Daniel Boone. When the sun set the entire band halted and preparations were made for the night. The few wagons were drawn toward one spot and left with their rear ends turned toward the forest. An enclosure was formed in this way, in the centre of which a fire was kindled and preparations for supper were speedily made. Meat from the deer which had been shot the preceding day was roasted on spits turned by some of the younger children. Only a scanty supply of vegetables was to be had, and for the most part the hardy settlers were compelled to rely upon the supplies of game which the boys and Sam Oliver and other hunters had no difficulty in obtaining in the forest. Guards were assigned for the night, one man being stationed on each of the four sides of the camp and close to the encircling wagons. The dogs which accompanied the expedition were also used as aids in detecting the presence of enemies, but throughout the night nothing more dangerous than a deer or a curious night-bird was heard. There were several young girls in the company whose duties consisted largely in looking after the younger children and in helping prepare the meals when the emigrants halted. There was an air of confidence in the bearing of almost all the members of the expedition, but Peleg Barnes was convinced that Daniel Boone himself was far from feeling at ease. The boy felt sure, of course, that the leader was anxious not for his own safety, but for those who were following him in their search for the wonderful land which he had found in Kantuckee. Before sunrise preparations for the resumption of the journey were completed, and after an ample breakfast, though the food did not differ materially from that of the preceding evening, the word to depart was given. The little children and many of the women rode on the backs of the horses, some of which were hauling the heavy wagons that contained the simple household possessions of the emigrants. As there were more horses than wagons, there was ample provision made for all who were unable to endure the hardships of the march. The sister of young Boone, however, frequently insisted upon walking with her brother, except when he was to be one of the guards. No fresh excitement occurred and no fears were aroused until after the band had passed Walden's Mountain. "Cumberland Mountain is not far beyond," said Sam to Peleg and young Boone when the nightly camp had been made after a second mountain had been crossed. "When once we get beyond that we shall soon see the land o' promise. I think to-morrow I shall have to take you two boys with me and see if we cannot get some fresh venison. Our stores are runnin' low, and a few pa'tridges or wild turkeys would not be bad, either, and I am sure we shall find plenty o' both in the valley." "There must be pigeons left from those we shot yesterday," suggested Peleg. "There are some," replied the hunter, who was in general charge of the larder, "but it would be a change for us if we could get a few turkeys. We ought to find some fish, too, in the stream in the valley, and I think I shall set some o' the boys to catchin' them. We shall go ahead o' the main party to-morrow, or else let the band go ahead of us, so that if there happen to be any redskins on our trail they will not mistake us for the whole band." "Have you seen any more signs?" inquired Peleg quickly. [Illustration: "He was a tall, lean man, quiet in his bearing, and with every indication of self-control, as well as of strength, stamped upon his face and form"] "Plenty o' signs, but we have not seen one o' the varmints. I know from the way Daniel Boone is watchin' that he is a bit fearful. I think I shall tell him to-morrow when we start for our game that we will let the rest o' the party go ahead of us and we will bring up the rear. It may save time to do that, because it will be easy to follow the trail they will leave. Most of this country is new to me and the only one that is sure of his way is the scout himself." "I think that would be better," assented young Boone, "and, besides, if we hunt in the rear of the party we shall be able to do double duty by serving as a rear guard at the same time." "That is right," laughed Sam. "Though that's for the King to say. The great trouble with him is that he does not say very much." "You have never been troubled that way, have you, Sam?" laughed Peleg. "I can't say that I have. I think o' so many things; and if I think o' them I want some one else to know what they are, too. You make your arrangements with the King and we will be ready to do our share on the morrow." Accordingly, on the following day, when the advance was resumed, Sam Oliver and his two young comrades waited for the cavalcade to pass and then began their task of providing supplies and game for the company. The emigrants now were nearing Cumberland Mountain. The three mountains were not far apart and looked almost as if they had been carefully planted at equal distances in the midst of the wilderness by some giant hand. Some of the cliffs were so wild and rugged that when the creaking wagons drew near the edge the children screamed in their terror. In the main, however, the trail was less difficult than had been expected. The huge masses of rock had been torn asunder in places by some volcanic action in preceding ages and had left narrow passageways through which the moving cavalcade was able to proceed without much difficulty. October had come and the foliage which had been slightly tinted in the preceding days had turned to a deeper shade. The trees were now ablaze with colour. Sam Oliver in his enthusiasm declared that within a half hour he and his companions would be able to rejoin the company with ample supplies for the following day. When the boys began their search for game his words seemed about to be verified: near the mountain brook they spied three deer, two of which fell at their first shot. Sam, who had preferred to hunt alone, also must have found game plentiful, the boys concluded, because twice within five minutes the report of his gun had been heard. "We must get some turkeys before we go back," suggested Peleg. "I am afraid you will have to wait until later in the day if you want to get them," responded young Boone. "I don't know about that," began Peleg. He stopped abruptly when, as if in confirmation of his own opinion, a gobble was heard not far to their right. This was quickly followed by an answering gobble from their left. "You take one and I will look for the other," eagerly suggested young Boone. The plan was instantly adopted, and each of the boys, crouching low and stealthily making his way among the trees and through the brush, tried to steal upon the bird, which still was noisily announcing its presence. James Boone moved forward thirty yards from the place where he had left his comrade and cautiously peered about him for a sight of the calling turkey. His feet, clad in moccasins, made little noise as he advanced over the moist ground. Deftly he parted the bushes in making his way, and they closed behind him with no more noise than as if they had been swayed by a gentle breeze. Suddenly young Boone came to a place from which he was able to see plainly a short distance before him. The gobble now was so distinct that, he held his gun in readiness for instant use. Cautiously advancing, he peeped from behind a tree, hopeful that he might obtain a sight of the bird he was seeking. To his terror he saw an Indian directly before him leaning against the trunk of a huge tree. The mouth of the warrior was partly closed by his hands. His face was daubed with paint, and his discoloured cheeks seemed to be doubly disgusting as he emitted sounds which even the keenest of the wild turkeys would scarcely have detected as different from its own. CHAPTER IV THE GOBBLERS At the moment when the young pioneer discovered the Indian, the warrior also became aware of the presence of his enemy. Whether it was because James was amazed at the redskin's skill in mimicking the call of the wild turkey, or because his enemy was somewhat quicker in his movements than he, is not known. At any rate, before young Boone could raise his gun to his shoulder the Indian turned and with all his strength hurled his tomahawk. True to its aim, the weapon struck the face of the young hunter, almost cleaving his head in twain. As the body of the stricken boy fell forward, the Indian halted a moment and then in his shrillest tones imitated the call of the crow four times. He waited until there was a response similar to his own, and then, running to the prostrate young hunter, deftly removed his scalp. He then dashed into the woods and ran in the direction from which the answering call had been heard. Meanwhile Peleg Barnes, who had been striving to locate the "turkey" which had been gobbling steadily in response to the calls of the one first heard, was more fortunate than his friend. Stealthily creeping through the bushes and darting from tree to tree, he discovered the warrior that was imitating the "gobbles" before the latter was aware of his presence. The boy almost intuitively was aware of the purpose of the warrior, and without hesitation raised his gun and fired. As the Indian fell to the ground Peleg did not wait to discover the effect of his shot, but ran back at his utmost speed toward the camp. Frequently, as he ran, the terrified young hunter shouted his warning of the presence of his enemies. Before he had regained the camp he was joined by Sam Oliver, who was angry as well as startled by the wild shouts of his young companion. "What's the trouble, Peleg?" he demanded. "I shot a redskin! There must be a good many more!" replied the boy, almost breathless in his excitement. "The varmint was daubed with paint and gobbling like a turkey, trying to draw some one into his trap." "Did young Boone go with you?" "No, he heard another 'turkey.'" "Where is he now?" demanded Sam sharply. "I do not know. We must get word to the scout." Nothing more was said until the returning hunters, both of whom were running at their utmost speed, came within sight of the place where the camp had been made. In a brief time they gained the open place in front, for the camp this time had been pitched on a small plateau, sheltered by a frowning cliff on one side and protected by a steep, rocky gulch on another, while in front of it was sufficient space to enable the watching guard to detect the approach of an enemy from that direction. As soon as they were within hearing, both hunters shouted their warnings; but even as they raised their voices the sound of rifles was heard and a moment later there was a sudden cry and rush made by at least three score of the Indians. The suddenness of the attack as well as the
{'title': 'Scouting with Daniel Boone by Everett T. Tomlinson', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}