The Pioneer Boys of the Ohio; or, Clearing the Wilderness

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XII

  BOONE, THE CAPTAIN OF PIONEERS

  THAT night the hunters passed again with the settlers. On the followingmorning it was the intention of Boone and his companions to startfurther west; for the lure of Kentucky was in his veins, and he feltthat no other place could satisfy him, after having once seen that richsoil and hunted in the majestic woods along the Kentucky River.

  Before leaving the pioneers the mighty hunter gave them much goodadvice. He knew of a very desirable plateau just a few miles furtherwest, looking out upon the river, where he himself would locate if hehad not already decided on a site on the Kentucky River; and here hehoped they would settle.

  Bob and Sandy had decided that they would accompany the hunters alittle way when they left. They wished to see as much of them aspossible, and, besides, it was down the river the rest would soon becoming, in search of the spot marked out by the discerning eye ofBoone.

  "Glad to have your company, lads," said Daniel Boone, when Bob madethe request, "for I have taken much interest in both of you. FriendArmstrong is a lucky man to have his family with him from the start,"and he sighed slightly, for it had been so fated that in much of hispioneer work Boone was compelled to be separated from those he loved.

  That was a morning those lads would never forget as long as they lived.Side by side they walked with the man who knew more about Indiancraftiness than any other along the entire frontier; and in his ownpleasant way Boone gave the boys much valuable advice.

  "Always keep a charge in your gun if possible," he said, "and sleepwith one eye open, when you have reason to believe there are Indiansaround; for, next to a cat, I believe the red varmints to be thetrickiest things in all creation. But here we are at the spot I pickedout for your settlement. It would not be wise for you to go anyfurther, lads. What do you think of my choice? Do you believe you canmake a happy home here?"

  When they looked around, and noted the natural beauty of the location,commanding a fine view of the river as it did, the two boys were loudin its praise.

  "I'm glad you like it," observed Boone; "for the first time I struckthis place I determined that some day it must be covered with the homesof white men. Once an Indian village stood here, and why they movedaway I never learned; but you will find many signs where their lodgesstood, and there are burial places back in the hills."

  "Must you go now, Colonel Boone?" asked Bob, who felt a sense of keenregret because their pleasant relations must be severed so soon.

  "It is necessary that we lose no more time," came the reply; "already Ifear that some who await us far beyond may be in difficulties, for theIndians were beginning to grow troublesome at the time I left. But wewill come again. Here we shall hope to find a warm welcome when passingback and forth."

  So the boys shook hands with each of the five buckskin-clad rangers.The young man, Simon Kenton, had interested them very much.

  "He has the making of a second Colonel Boone in him," Bob said, as hiseyes followed the little band of pioneers, walking along in Indianfile, with Kenton bringing up the rear; "I wish he would only take anotion to join his fortunes with us here."

  Then the figures of the five were hidden in the dense undergrowth. Thelast they saw of Daniel Boone was when he turned, before plunging intothe thicket, to wave a hand to them in good-bye.

  "What shall we do now?" asked Sandy, rather gloomily; for somehow heseemed to feel the departure of these valiant frontiersmen keenly,though he had only known them such a brief time.

  "Stay around here until our folks come. We promised Colonel Boone notto follow after him, you remember," returned Bob, with whom his wordwas as good as his bond.

  "But that may not be for some hours," protested the impatient Sandy;"because, you know, they were not near ready to start when we leftcamp; and then they will move much slower than we did, led by men whoknow every trail."

  "But it ought to be enough for us to just sit here and look out on thatgrand river," remarked Bob, admiration in his eyes, as he turned themupon the silently flowing stream, still bank-full from the spring rains.

  "It is a fine sight, I'm ready to say," Sandy admitted; "and after weget a cabin built we ought to be mighty well contented here, with fishto be had for the taking at the door, and game coming up almost askingto be shot."

  "Think of the use for our traps back in those wooded hills. Why, Iwager we shall lay in a store of pelts the first winter five times asgreat as ever happened in Virginia. But how glad I am the dreadfuljourney is done. Kate and mother both stood it better than fatherexpected. How brave they are, and what a blessing it is to have such amother and sister."

  Bob's eyes filled while he was speaking; but they were tears ofgratitude, not sorrow.

  Sitting there, and gazing as if fascinated out upon the broad andmajestic stream which from this time on was fated to enter so deeplyinto their new life, Bob did not notice that his younger brother waswandering around the place. Sandy had always been as curious as anywoman, and this propensity had more than a few times brought him faceto face with trouble.

  It was perhaps half an hour after the five hunters had left them whenBob suddenly aroused to the fact that for some time he had not heardanything from his brother.

  "I wonder where he can be?" he said to himself a little anxiously ashe scrambled to his feet to glance around. "Strange that he is not insight. Perhaps after all he did lie down, and in this warm sunshine hasgone to sleep."

  The idea pleased him, and he started to search for some sign of themissing one.

  Three minutes, five passed, and still he had not discovered Sandy. Hehad not as yet called, thinking that there was no need.

  "Perhaps I can track him," Bob said to himself, as he once more reachedthe spot where he had been reclining.

  It was not very difficult to ascertain where the footprints of hisbrother made a distinct trail, for, although Sandy wore moccasins, thesoil was soft, and he had not been at any pains to hide his tracks.

  So Bob moved along, to the right and to the left, just as Sandy hadhappened to make his way when investigating the site for the proposedsettlement. Thus by slow degrees he found himself doubling on their owntrail.

  At discovering this Bob smiled.

  "I think I can see now," he remarked. "While we promised Colonel Boonenot to go any further than this, nothing was said about the backcountry. And Sandy has been unable to resist the temptation to wanderaround, looking for game. But he could not have found anything worthwhile, or surely I should have heard a gun-shot. Perhaps I had bettergive him a hail."

  So saying he raised his hand to his mouth, after a fashion which theyhad long followed when in the woods, or following their line of traps,and immediately through the woods rang his shout:

  "Ho! Sandy! Hello!"

  To his astonishment a voice immediately answered, and he saw hisbrother advancing hurriedly toward him. But he carried no game; and nosooner had Bob set eyes upon the other's face than he realized thatSandy brought news of some sort, for he looked excited.

  "What is it,--Indians?" asked the older boy, involuntarily half raisinghis musket, and casting an apprehensive glance around at the frowningand mysterious forest by which they were almost entirely surrounded.

  But Sandy shook his head in the negative, much to the relief of hisbrother.

  "Then have you found a bear's den, or perhaps a wolf's whelps?" he wenton.

  "You would never guess it in a week, Bob," declared Sandy, with asmile; "but come with me. I am sure you can do him good, with yourknowledge of surgery, which is going to make you a wonderful man somefine day."

  "Surgery! What have you found, Sandy? Is there any one wounded nearhere?"

  Sandy nodded his head.

  "Yes, and pretty badly hurt, I fear."

  "Not a white man, surely?" went on the other, falling into step withthe impatient one.

  "It is an Indian," replied Sandy, soberly.

  "Perhaps one of those who were wounded in the fight. He may have comethus far o
n his way to his village, and given out," and now it was Bobwho urged the pace, for his professional instinct had been aroused.

  True, it was only an Indian who was injured, and in those days thesettlers on the frontiers had a very low estimation of the red man asa human being. But then Bob was a boy, and his love for relieving painamounted almost to a mania with him. Many a time had he set the brokenlimb of some little wild animal, across which he had accidentally comein the forest; and his operations had always been very successful; somuch so that both father and mother were proud of him.

  Sandy had apparently taken particular notice of the place where he hadfound the injured Indian, for he seemed to experience no trouble inleading the way back there.

  "Here he is," he suddenly remarked, as he swept aside a screen ofpawpaws.

  Bob looked down upon a painted face, and felt a pair of glitteringblack eyes fastened intently upon him.

  "Why, he is a young fellow, hardly more than a boy," he remarked insome surprise; but his words must have been understood by the woundedone, for he tried to draw his slender figure up in pride.

  "Me brave--me Blue Jacket!" he said, almost fiercely, smiting himselfseveral times on the chest.

  The peculiar name caused Bob to notice for the first time that theyoung Indian was indeed wearing a hunting shirt fancifully decked withthe quills of the blue-jay, and from which he doubtless took his name,although in the Indian tongue it would probably be of an altogetherunpronounceable nature.

  The Indian did not wholly trust them, it was plain to be seen. Unableto fight, he seemed ready to stoically meet his fate without a whimper,for, perhaps, he fully expected these enemies to knock him on the head,because it was evident from the nature of his wound that he had been inthe recent engagement.

  "Let me look at your hurt, Blue Jacket," said Bob, bending down overthe recumbent figure.

  The other set his teeth hard, but beyond a grunt gave no sign, whilethe white lad carefully drew away the cloth which was tied about theleg in which a bullet had become imbedded.

  In some way the wounded brave must have become separated from hisfellows, and, while trying to get to his village alone, had fallen herethrough weakness caused by the loss of blood.

  "He would have been dead by morning if some one had not found him,"declared Bob as he started to cleanse the wound as well as possiblejust then, meaning to repeat the operation when he could have warmwater in plenty.

  Those beady eyes followed each gentle action with perplexity thatgradually grew into confidence. Blue Jacket was learning a new lessonin warfare. His savage conception of how a fallen enemy should betreated had received a rude jolt.

  "Here, Sandy," said the young surgeon, presently, "take hold of hisfeet, and we will carry him over to where we expect to camp on the siteof the coming settlement. The poor fellow shall not die if I can helpit. You found him, and he belongs to us. Remember that, if anybodywants to do him an injury. Pat will stand by us, I'm sure; and mothermust, for has she not always told us we should do good even to themthat persecute us. Now, gently, Sandy. An Indian can suffer, if he doesrefuse to show it."