Paul's question as to whether we would ever come back caused me to be attacked by timorousness, the first sensation of the kind I had experienced since the venture was proposed.

Now the matter had been brought home to me in such an innocent way, I began to realize all that this journey might mean. I had not spent my life on the frontier without having heard of Major Clarke, and knew full well he would not turn his back because of danger; in fact, should he chance to lead his men into a place where their lives were imperiled, the major's first thought would be as to how he might get the best of the foe – not as to how he and his following could escape.

In addition to this, only a single glance was needed to show that the work would be hot, once the force had come within striking distance of the enemy. Major Clarke had enlisted none save old frontiersmen, each one of whom had battled for his life against the painted wolves a dozen times over, and I question if there was a man in the forest who had not some private wrongs to avenge upon both savages and Britishers.

Knowing all this, one need be a simple who did not understand how sharp would be the efforts to strike a telling blow once the company was in the vicinity of the enemy, whether that enemy was a red-coated soldier, or a half-naked, feather-bedecked brute such as had lived a life of murdering and plundering since the first day the white men came into that section of the country.

And Paul and I were to act, as best we might, the part of scouts in advance of such a force as was this which followed Major Clarke! We who, because of our ignorance, should have remained in the rear, would lead the way, taking perforce the hottest of the fights because of being the first to encounter the foe.

It is little wonder that I was overwhelmed with timorousness on realizing for the first time what I had taken upon myself; but Paul, who never dreamed of all we might seek out, remained calm and placid as if ours was to be the most innocent of pleasure excursions.

The lad was surprised at finding me silent when he had done no more than repeat what I had said to him a dozen times over, and asked solicitously if I was ill.

It would have been little more than the truth had I told him I was sick with fear; but such words would have shamed me, and I held my peace, allowing him to believe that I who had never known a day's sickness, had suddenly been overcome in some womanish fashion.

It was Simon Kenton who broke in upon our not overly pleasant conversation, by saying gleefully, as one might who had just come into some good fortune.

"If you lads have settled all your business, we'll be off 'twixt now an' sunset, for I'm countin' on gettin' a good view of the river before we make a halt."

"Are the men ready to move?" I asked in surprise.

"They will follow twenty-four hours later, provided we learn of nothin' to prevent the movement. It's our task to spy out the land, an' we're bound to keep well in advance."

I glanced quickly at Paul in order to see how the news affected him; but not so much as a tremor of the eyelids followed this information. Perhaps if he had known all the danger as well as did I, he might have presented a different appearance.

It would have been shameful had I shown fear when this lad who knew nothing of life on the frontier remained unmoved, and I stiffened my lip as best I might, resolved that neither he nor Simon Kenton should guess of that which was in my heart.

Not only did the scout intend to set forth on this day; but I understood from his movements that he was eager to begin the work as soon as possible, despite the fact of his having spoken as if an hour earlier or later could make no difference to him, and I said with so much of calmness as might be forced into my voice:

"If it so be you are minded to go at once, I can make ready within five minutes."

"It would please me to be rid of this place. A crowd of people is not to my likin' an' by settin' out now there will be no call for any great haste, whereas the same cannot be said in case we are but a few hours ahead of the volunteers."

"I wish only to have a word with my mother, and then we cannot leave the island too soon to please me," I replied, and added on observing in Paul's face what I fancied was a wistful look, as if he was saying to himself that it would be a consolation to have some one bid him God speed, "will you come with me, lad? I dare venture to say she will treat us both alike."

He sprang forward eagerly, with the moisture of a coming tear in his eyes, and we went toward that portion of the encampment where were the women, all of whom found ample occupation in cooking for the volunteers.

Perhaps it is as well if I set down nothing regarding the parting with my mother; it was painful to me, and cannot deeply interest any who reads these lines, if peradventure they really have a reader.

It is enough if I say that both us lads, for she gave Paul the same show of affection as was bestowed upon me, promised to be as careful of our lives as one could who had set about such work as ours might prove, and in less than half an hour from the moment Simon Kenton announced his intention of leaving the island, we were standing by the water's edge awaiting his commands.

The young scout did not delay once we were ready. A canoe such as is known by the name of "dugout," was moored to a tree, and in her had been loaded our scanty outfit.

A supply of ammunition, pepper, salt, a few potatoes and three loaves of corn bread made up the list of our belongings such as we could not carry in the pockets of our hunting shirts. As a matter of course each had a knife and a rifle, which last would serve to provide us with more food, and we really needed nothing else.

Paul had made an attempt to speak with his father before leaving; but Mr. Sampson was so deeply engaged in laying plans for the future village which was to spring up on the banks of the Ohio, that he had no time to spend on his son.

Major Clarke was the only member of all that company who knew we were to set out at this time, and he remained in close conversation with Simon Kenton a good half hour after Paul and I had taken our places in the dugout. Then, seeing that the scout was eager to be off, he stepped back, saying to us lads:

"See to it that you follow closely the instructions given by Kenton; your lives may depend upon obedience, for the work you have undertaken is in the highest degree dangerous."

He might have spared himself that much breath, so far as I was concerned, for there was in my mind a very good idea of the perils we would be called upon to face, and I had little relish for such a reminder, because my courage at this moment was none of the best.

"So long as we remain in advance you may count on it that there is nothin' to fear," Kenton said as he unmoored the boat and sent her moving out into the current with a single stroke of the paddle. "We shall give you fair warnin' if we come across anything worth knowin', unless – "

He did not finish the sentence; but I knew full well how to conclude it. "Unless we are taken by surprise and all killed," is what he would have said but for the fear of alarming Paul and me.

Before we were half a mile from the island I came to realize that I was playing the part of a fool by allowing my mind to dwell upon the possibilities of the future, and, forcing thought into a different channel, I began to speak of the village which it was proposed to build on the bank of the river, little dreaming that it would one day be a great city known as Louisville, as if named for me.

During ten minutes or more, not a word was spoken, and then as if talking to himself, Kenton said:

"The volunteers will set out sometime to-morrow, an' should move along as fast as we can."

"Are all the men coming down the river?" Paul said:

"Some will be left behind to look after the women and children; but the remainder are to set off in the flat boats that were moored at the other side of the island."

"If they are to come in boats, I do not understand why we push on ahead," I said stupidly, whereupon Kenton replied:

"It's our business to know if the painted snakes are nearabout the river in any great force."

"And how may we learn that, unless we tramp along the shore?"

"The chances are that the snakes would fire at us, not countin' on the main force bein' so near."

"In which case we should gain the information by being shot – perhaps killed."

"I reckon one of us would come out alive, an' he could get back to give the news," Kenton said quietly, as if the possibility of our losing our lives was as nothing so long as the volunteers were warned. "But there's a good chance we'd all slip through without a scratch, even though the reptiles had gathered in full force, for they're not the best marksmen to be found hereabout, an' by keepin' well in the middle of the stream it should be safe sailin'. Now I'm thinkin' we'd better keep our tongues quiet, and set our eyes at work, else there's a show of slippin' by what we've been sent to find. If you see the least auspicious looking thing, sing out, and we'll know what it means before goin' any further."

Paul listened to these words as if they had no especial concern for him, and I was near to being vexed with the lad because of his seeming indifference when life was in danger; but checked myself with the thought that he would put on a different look if he fully understood the situation.

By this time Simon Kenton was keeping his eyes at work as he labored at the paddle, refusing my proffer of assistance, and I question if a single bent twig or broken bough escaped his notice. It was as if he saw both sides of the river at the same instant, listening as eagerly as he gazed, and it can be fancied that I did not dare attempt anything in the way of conversation.

It is needless for me to explain at length in what fashion we rounded this point, or skirted that cove half hidden by the overhanging foliage, for all know full well how voyagers on the Ohio in the days of the revolution guarded against ambush or sudden attack.

To my mind we might as well have remained with the volunteers during this portion of the journey, for in case we came upon any considerable body of savages there was little chance either of us would succeed in carrying back the news to those who virtually placed their lives in our keeping.

We had been sailing three hours or more; the sun was low in the heavens, and the shadows were already so dense on the western bank that a hundred painted brutes might have been concealed beneath the low hanging branches without our being any the wiser.

To me it seemed foolish to continue on any further, if our only purpose was to scan both sides of the river carefully, and I was on the point of saying as much to Kenton when a tiny puff of smoke darted out from amid the foliage to the right of us, hardly more than fifty yards away; a sharp report like unto the crack of a whip could be heard, while the splinters flew from the paddle in the scout's hand.

It goes without saying that I was startled; but not to such an extent as to deprive me of my wits.

I knew full well none but a savage would have fired at us, and the knowledge that the villainous enemy was so near served to make me forget the fear which had beset me a short time previous.

Within five seconds from the instant the tiny puff of smoke darted out like the tongue of a snake, I had fired, using the curl of vapor for a target, and Simon Kenton said approvingly, but with no trace of excitement in his tone:

"That was well done! A lad who is so quick with a shot should not be taken at a disadvantage, whatever turns up."

He had forced the bow of the dugout from the shore even before I fired, and, bending low, was paddling with all his strength as if the one idea of escape was all that occupied his mind.

Paul had neither spoken nor moved; at the moment his back was toward me, a fact which I regretted because I could not see his face to learn if he changed color.

We were no more than in mid-stream before a second shot was heard, this time coming from a point lower down the river; but the bullet flew harmlessly over our heads.

I made no effort to return the shot, for the very good reason that there was no chance I could do any execution at such a distance, even though he who had fired remained motionless, which was hardly to be expected.

Kenton pulled around the next bend, hugging the eastern shore closely, and when we were come to a small creek he forced the canoe up the tiny water course until it was completely hidden by the foliage.

"We might have gone on without fear," I said in a whisper, surprised by this manœuver, "We were traveling faster than the savages could walk, and might easily have outstripped them."

"Which is exactly what we don't count on doin'," he said quietly, speaking in an ordinary tone, and thus showing he had no thought of danger while we remained on this side the river.

"Why not?" Paul asked mildly.

"Because it's our business to know how many of the reptiles are on yonder bank."

"But how will you find out?"

"Go back there, an' have a look at 'em. In less than an hour we can do the trick in fine style."

Paul and I looked at each other in mingled fear and amazement while one might have counted ten, and then I turned my eyes away, understanding by this time that to gather such information was the only reason why we had come down the river ahead of the volunteers.

Kenton sat like a statue in the center of the canoe, we lads being at either end, and it seemed to me as if a full hour passed before a word was spoken.

Then the night was so near upon us that, save directly in the middle of the river, it was impossible to distinguish objects twenty paces distant.

"I reckon we may as well get to work," and Kenton cautiously forced the canoe out from amid the tangle of foliage until the current carried her down stream.

He did not use the paddle save to keep her from running afoul of dry brush or logs on the bank, and we had drifted two miles, perhaps, when he suddenly bent to his work, sending the light craft across the river at a speed I had never before seen equaled, even by my father.

I fully expected to hear the report of a rifle, or feel the sting of a bullet when we were in the middle of the stream where a sharp-eyed savage might see us; but nothing occurred to check our progress, and in a marvelously short space of time we were once more screened from view; but now on the same side of the river where we knew the painted snakes lurked.

"You are to stay in the dugout," Simon Kenton whispered to me as he raised his rifle. "If it so chances that I'm not back here by sunrise, you must work your way up stream to warn Major Clarke."

Had he given me the opportunity I should have urged that he take us with him, or wait till near morning before undertaking so dangerous a venture; but the words had no more than been spoken when he was gone.

At one instant he was speaking with me, and at the next he had vanished as completely and silently as if the waters had covered him. No Indian who ever lived could have equaled him in swiftness and noiselessness.

Paul was mystified when he turned and failed to see Kenton, and I felt forced to explain in whispers what had happened, else I believe of a verity the lad would have cried out in his bewilderment.

It is not possible for those who have always lived in large settlements or towns to realize the desolateness of such a position as was ours while we waited for the return of the scout.

He had ventured into the forest where we knew to a certainty were bloodthirsty enemies, and that he realized all the possibilities had been shown by the order for us to work our way up-stream to warn the on-coming boats, in case he failed to return by sunrise.

My heart was almost in my mouth as I sat there holding Paul's hand, starting at the lightest sound, and hearing even in the rippling of the water some token of the savages. My tongue was parched; I could not have uttered a single word had it been necessary to speak, and only with the greatest difficulty did I prevent my hand from trembling, thus exposing to my companion that I was wofully afraid.

When perhaps an hour had passed it seemed to me as if we had been there a full night, and then came that sound which I had at the same time been expecting and fearing to hear.

From the distance, half a mile away, I guessed, came the crack of a rifle; then another and another, and after that the same deathly silence as before.

"Think you any harm has come to him?" Paul whispered tremulously, and I replied as I believed truly:

"Not unless he met with an accident before that first shot was fired. If there had been a large number of savages nearabout, he would have used every effort to return without loss of time, that we might go to warn the volunteers. There may have been only a few, with, perhaps, a captive, and he has attempted a rescue."

I was heartened by my own words, which sounded plausible, and remained on the alert ten minutes or more, expecting each instant to see Kenton appear as silently as he had vanished.

When that length of time had elapsed, however, and he yet remained absent, fear crept over me, and I imagined the worst.

After half an hour went by, and I kept note of time by counting, there was no longer any hope in my heart.

After firing a shot Kenton would, had he been able, come back to us at once; for even though he had not learned all which seemed necessary, he must have understood that he would no longer be able to spy upon the foe.

I tried to decide what should be done; but my brain was in a whirl. I could hardly have defended myself if one of the painted brutes had shown himself close at hand.

It was Paul who aroused me from what was little less than the stupefaction of despair, by whispering in my ear:

"He did not say that we should go up the river until sunrise. Why may it not be possible for us to help him?"

I shook my head, believing it was too late for us to effect anything in his behalf; but the suggestion, coming from a lad who was ignorant of all this wretched business, awakened me to a realization of my own folly.

"I am the one to go," I said decidedly "You shall stay here, in case he comes back."

"By so doing I could be of no assistance. We will go together."

Even now I fail to understand why my wits had so completely deserted me. I had no thought of what might be the result if we two made off into the forest in the darkness; but before we met Simon Kenton again I realized my folly most keenly.

Without trying to persuade him to remain, as I should have done even in my foolishness, I whispered:

"You must move softly and keep close behind me, lest we be separated in the thicket where it might mean death to cry out. Follow my every motion, for I shall take the lead."

He grasped his rifle in a manner which told he at least was no coward, and clutched my hunting shirt to make certain of obeying the command I had given.

I stepped over the side of the canoe into the water; but not as silently as Simon Kenton had done, and we two waded ashore with no heed as to where this rash move was likely to lead us.

Ashamed though I am to confess it, I took no heed as to the location of the boat we were leaving – made no attempt to seek out what would serve as a guide when we returned, if in deed we ever did; but had only in mind the idea of proceeding up-stream toward where the reports of the weapons had come from.

And into the blackness of the forest we plunged, I claiming to be better versed, in woodcraft than my companion, yet doing that which the most ignorant townsman would never have dreamed of attempting.

It was the act of a fool, and I was to receive the punishment due my folly.

CHAPTER VI.
ASTRAY

It seemed to me that the noise of the firearms had come from a point about half a mile from the shore, and less than a third of this distance up-stream, therefore I bent my way in that direction, heeding nothing save the terrible fear that Simon Kenton had been taken prisoner, or killed outright.

Could I have learned that he was dead my heart might have been somewhat lighter, for I knew full well how terrible would be the torture inflicted upon him once the savages understood who he was.

In such case, Paul and I were bound to carry the sad news back to the volunteers without delay; but while there was a chance of our being able to give him succor, I held that it was our duty to make every effort in such direction.

When I was older grown, and had seen more of warfare, I came to understand that the life of one man counts for but little when compared with the general good, and had such fact been impressed upon my mind at this time, I would never have set out on the foolhardy errand which bid fair to lead Paul Sampson and me to our death.

The lad whom Simon Kenton and I had saved from the stake was an apt pupil, as he showed on this night when he followed close in my footsteps, betraying no signs of fear when he might well have been excused for betraying timorousness, and moving with the utmost caution.

It is not for me to say that we advanced as silently as the young scout could have done; but I was satisfied that we were not moving in a clumsy fashion, and began to feel a certain pride in thus showing Paul how we of the frontier followed on the trail of our enemies.

During perhaps half an hour we two went steadily but cautiously forward, and then it seemed to me as if we should have arrived at the spot from which the shots had come.

I halted and listened intently. Not a sound could be heard save the soughing of the wind among the foliage, or the countless faint noises of the night which tell of life when the world is supposed to be sleeping.

For the first time a sense of distrust in my own ability found lodgment in my mind. It seemed positive we had either traveled in the wrong direction, or the savages had left the vicinity where the encounter had taken place. Surely we ought to have come across Kenton, unless he made a wider detour than at first seemed probable, or, as I feared, had been taken prisoners.

A certain numbness as of despair took possession of me; I pressed forward with less heed than before to the direction I was taking, and again stood still to listen.

When we made this second halt I believed we were no less than two miles from where the canoe lay, and it was positive the enemy had not been so far away when the weapons were discharged.

Paul pressed my arm in token that he wanted to say something; but I clapped my hand over his mouth. The fact that I had made a most grievous mistake was beginning to find lodgment in my dull brain, and a nervous fear was creeping over me.

The thought that he, a lad from the east who knew nothing of woodcraft, had good reason to distrust my ability, angered me, and like a fool I advanced once more, this time at right angles with the course we had been pursuing, even though I should have known that such traveling at random was not calculated to produce the desired results.

When we had forced our way through the underbrush for a distance of perhaps another mile, we were halted by a swamp.

It was not possible that either the Indians or Simon Kenton had attempted to cross such a place where one must flounder around with noise enough to proclaim his every movement, and I leaned against the trunk of a tree fully realizing all the mischief I had wrought.

Again Paul gave token of wishing to speak, and I no longer attempted to check him.

"If we are to hunt for Kenton, or count on learning what has become of him, would it not be better that we went back to the canoe, and waited for the coming of day?"

"Then it is our duty to push up stream to warn the volunteers," I replied moodily.

"We cannot hope to find him while it is dark, and it may be that we shall lose our way," he suggested mildly, whereupon, and without reason, I turned upon him angrily.

"We have lost it already!"

"Can you not retrace your steps to the river?" he asked mildly, and without show of fear.

"We should be able to strike the stream; but, having done so, I could not say whether we were above or below the canoe, and we might travel for hours in the wrong direction."

"We would be able to learn our course by the current, and if it be not possible to find the boat, then must we go up the river to warn the volunteers."

"And leave Simon Kenton in the hands of the savage brutes?" I asked angrily, grown unreasoning in my nervous fears and the knowledge that I had made a fool of myself.

"We are not leaving Kenton, because we have never found him, and since, as seems true, we only wander about aimlessly, would it not be wisest to think of the others, who rely upon us to point out the danger which may await them?"

Paul Sampson was speaking like a sensible lad, and I realized it fully. He, the boy ignorant of woodcraft, should have been the leader, and I wished most devoutly I had consulted with him before setting out on this wild-goose chase.

While one might have counted twenty I stood unwilling to acknowledge my helplessness, and then something like a gleam of common sense came into my mind. I stood ready to confess that I had acted like a simple, and he must have understood something of the truth, when I said:

"It shall be as you propose, Paul, and we'll make for the river; but this time I am not counting on taking the lead, having already shown that I have no right to direct our movements."

"If you despair like this, then are we lost indeed," he said mildly. "Remember that I know nothing whatever of such work. Go on as before, using your best efforts to lead us to the river. Then we should aim to meet the volunteers, so it seems to me, forgetting poor Kenton because of the many others who need to know exactly what has happened here."

Without attempting an argument, even had I been able to find one which would warrant our traveling to and fro as we had done, I acted upon his suggestion.

Either we had traveled in a southerly direction to where the river took a sharp bend, or were much deeper in the forest than had at first seemed possible to me, for a full hour was spent making our way through the tangled underbrush, now slowly because of the necessity for silence, and again pressing forward as rapidly as we deemed safe, and not until such a length of time had elapsed did we come to the bank of the stream.

That I had allowed myself to be completely turned around was proven by the current of the river, for without such evidence I would have gone toward the south, believing I was making my way northward.

"The canoe must be above us," Paul said as we halted, "and by following the shore it should be possible to come upon it."

This seemed no more than reasonable, and hope once more filled my heart as I led the way along the bank, now moving with greater caution because it was more probable we might come upon the enemy.

One place looked much like another in the darkness, and yet before midnight we arrived at a spot where I firmly believed the dugout had been left.

Paul was of the same opinion, even going so far as to declare that he had noted on coming ashore the gum tree which we were standing near while holding the consultation.

I was disposed to believe as he did, but yet the fact that the canoe could not be found caused me to think both of us were mistaken.

"Surely this can't be the place," I argued, "for none save Simon Kenton could have come upon the canoe in the darkness, and, on failing to find us, he would wait a certain time for our return."

"You can't say that positively," Paul replied, "for the scout realizes that the safety of the volunteers depends upon him in a measure, and would count our lives as of but little value compared with so many as are coming down the river."

"Then you think he has been here and gone away in the boat?" I asked.

"That I do, for the gum tree is as familiar to my eyes as anything can be on so dark a night as this."

I was overcome by the possibility. If what Paul declared with such assurance was true, then were we two lads left alone upon the banks of the river amid a savage foe, to make our way back to Corn Island, or, what would be a far more difficult and dangerous task, to continue on to the mouth of the Tennessee River.

By going back we should proclaim the fact of my folly, and prove me to be a lad whose ignorance was near to crime; while to advance seemed little less than the sacrifice of our own lives.

Somewhat of this I said to Paul, and he replied like the true-hearted, brave lad he was:

"It is better to acknowledge one's ignorance than try to purchase secrecy at the expense of life. If we have made a mistake, why not admit it?"

I, who had plumed myself upon the fact that Simon Kenton was willing to take me with him as a scout, felt that almost anything was better than returning, and yet I knew it was my duty to push on up the stream to warn those who were descending, because we were not yet positive that the scout had taken away the boat.

Kenton might be a prisoner in the hands of the savages, and in such case it was of the utmost importance Major Clarke and his volunteers should know the facts.

Not without a severe mental struggle did I decide to smother my pride and follow Paul's advice; but once having settled upon a course of action, I was eager to pursue it.

Prudence dictated that we should wait until daybreak; but I believe of a verity it would have made me wild to remain in that spot inactive, thinking only of my folly, and now, as when we left the canoe, I pressed on with but one idea in mind; but, fortunately, yet retaining so much of common sense as to understand that we must be on the alert to gain such information as was possible during the journey.

The further we continued on up the river, the more firmly did I become convinced that our last halting place was at the spot where the canoe had been left, for we saw no other such familiar indentation on the shore, and now the important question in my mind was as to whether Simon Kenton had embarked in the dugout, or if the Indians had carried her away. This last proposition appeared to me so improbable that I hardly gave it a place in my thoughts.