Part 9 (2/2)

As they drew near the spot, Peleg was thinking of the great lesson he had learned from Boone. He ran to the bushes, pushed aside the brush and drew forth his gun with some pride. A smile lighted the face of Boone as he nodded his head in approval of the forethought of his young friend, and advancing, he extended his hand to inspect the weapon.

”What happened to the gun?” he inquired, as he marked the condition of the stock.

”I struck the skull of the Indian.”

”'Twas a hard blow, son, and I have slight doubt the Indian's head is aching.”

”If it had not been for that, I should not be here to tell you about it now.”

”No one can say about that. You _are_ here, Peleg, and we must act upon that which _is_ rather than upon what might have been. Indeed, I have long since learned to accept my life with that understanding. I had nothing to say about when I should come into the world, and I have as little to say about when I shall leave it. The only part I can guide is that which is in between. I can fix this stock,” he added, ”and soon we shall have Susan singing again. We will push forward a little farther and find some place where we can camp for the night. A good sleep will do you more good than anything else, though first I must attend again to that hand of yours.”

Selecting a linen bandage, a small supply of which Boone always carried with him on his expeditions, he gathered some leaves of the witch-hazel plant and, pounding them to a pulp, spread them upon the cloth.

Thoroughly was.h.i.+ng the wounded hand of Peleg, he then bound the cloth and pulp of the leaves upon the wound, saying as he did so: ”In a week you will be as good as new.”

As soon as this task had been accomplished the journey was resumed, although only two miles was covered before Boone was convinced that his companion was too weary to proceed farther.

The following day, although Peleg's hand still was sore from his wound, he found little difficulty in carrying his rifle, for the great scout had been successful in restoring Singing Susan to her former efficient condition.

Increasing signs of the presence of the Indians were seen, and once Boone turned aside from his pathway when an old canoe was found, which with a little effort he was able to patch up.

”I am fearful of the water,” he said, ”for I cannot swim. Can you, son?”

”Yes, sir,” replied Peleg, glancing up in astonishment at this acknowledgment of his friend's one weakness.

”It is well you can,” said Boone with a smile. ”I never was able to get the knack. You will have to be the leader now. We can go down this stream five or six miles, perhaps more, before we strike across the country again.”

”How is it,” inquired Peleg, ”that you find your way through the forests? I am never afraid of being lost in any of the woods where I have been before, but I should not be sure of myself in trying to go to the Falls of the Ohio, although even now we must be within a few days of the place.”

Boone smiled as he replied: ”There are some things which a man can learn and some which must be born in him to help him in the forests. A man who can sing, if he will go to the singing schools faithfully, may become a better singer; but if he has no voice to begin with, there is little use in his saying _do, ra, me, fa, so, la, si, do_ over and over again. So it is in the woods. I watch the birds, the trees, and the leaves, as well as the lay of the land, but beyond all that there is a part which I cannot explain. It must be my nature, just the same as it is for a fish to live in the water or a bee to seek the flowers.”

”Do you think I ever can learn?”

”I do, son. I have marked you often and know that you have the ability as well as the will to learn.”

Signs of the presence of Indians increased as the two scouts proceeded.

It seemed to Boone that the Indians were moving eastward, a matter which promised ill for the scattered settlements on the border.

However, the days pa.s.sed, and Boone and his companion evaded their foes, and on the twenty-ninth day arrived at the Falls of the Ohio, whither Governor Dunmore had directed them to go.

Only once had Daniel Boone referred to the purpose of his journey, and then he had explained to Peleg how the Governor had become exceedingly anxious concerning the safety of the surveyors. Cut off as they were in their faraway camp from the help of others, they also were unaware that the hunters were bringing word of the increasing restlessness among the Indians. Some of the scattered settlers recently had been killed by the angry tribes, and the rumours and reports all had it that the Shawnees, Delawares, and Wyandottes were becoming more and more savage in their attacks upon the whites, upon whom they now looked with deadly hatred because they were making homes in their land.

The coming of Daniel Boone and his young companion aroused much interest among the band of surveyors whose headquarters were at the Falls of the Ohio. Several log houses had been erected by them there, and the little settlement bore more evidences of refinement than one usually found on the frontier. There were many questions asked and a deep interest shown in the doings of the great world beyond, with which the lonely men had had nothing to do for many long months.

When, however, Daniel Boone explained the purpose of his coming, most of the men received his word with incredulity. They acknowledged that occasionally they had seen a few Indians, but not yet had they been molested, nor had any threats been made against their remaining where they were.

<script>