Part 31 (2/2)
Silently the settlers, for the moment all thoughts of vengeance gone from their minds, dug trenches wherever the soil permitted, and in these the bodies of their dead and mutilated friends were buried.
There were many faces in the band down which the tears were rolling while this task was being accomplished. The manner of the great scout, however, was unchanged. Only the deepening of the lines in his face and his unusual pallor gave indications of the strain through which he was pa.s.sing. His manner still was silent and self-controlled, as in the days when the joyous things of life had more often been his portion.
When the gruesome task at last was finished, it was Daniel Boone himself who said to Colonel Logan in reply to the latter's inquiries: ”It is useless now to try to follow the Shawnees.”
”Why do you say that?” inquired the colonel.
”Because by this time they are far beyond our reach. They have lost no time, you may be sure.”
”How many captives do you think they have taken with them?”
”Not many,” said Boone.
”But there are some sixty-seven of our men missing.”
”Yes,” a.s.sented Boone, ”but we have accounted for nearly sixty this day.”
”I am told,” suggested the colonel, ”that they will put every prisoner to death, or so many of them as may be required to make good any loss they themselves have had.”
The great scout shook his head as he replied: ”The Indians have not lost as many as we.”
”Why do you say that?”
”Because the advantage was all with them. They greatly outnumbered us, and in a good part of the fight they were sheltered by the rocks while our men were fighting in the open. It was the bloodiest fight I was ever in.”
”And to you one of the saddest,” suggested the colonel.
Boone nodded his head but did not speak.
”I cannot understand,” continued the colonel, ”why it is that you take your own troubles so quietly. You certainly have suffered more than most men on the border, and yet I fancy the man has yet to be born who has heard you complain.”
”And why should I complain?” inquired Boone, smiling as he looked into the face of his friend. ”It does not make my own griefs less to try to have another share them. That is something no one can do. My heart, at least, must bear its own burden. If any one thinks that his troubles are less than those that come to his friends, he is probably mistaken. My experience has led me to believe that almost every one has about all he can bear. There are only two cla.s.ses of people, at least as far as I have observed--and I am well aware how little I know in this particular--but as I said--there are only two cla.s.ses of people that cry and laugh easily.”
”Who are they?”
”Children and savages. Neither cla.s.s has learned to control itself. A strong man shows his strength, at least in my humble judgment,” Boone added modestly, ”by being able to refrain from useless words, and by not whining over his troubles.”
”I think you are correct,” said Colonel Logan musingly. ”Now, then,” he continued after a moment, ”is it your judgment that the best thing for us to do is to return to Bryant's Station?”
”It is.”
”Then if it is a good thing to do it will be well for us to do it quickly. I shall see that the order is given. We have some stirring days before us because I am sure it will never do to let the Shawnees believe for any length of time that they have been able to defeat the white men.”
CHAPTER XXIX
TO THE MEETING-PLACE
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