AT THE SPRINGS
The young scout was breathless and exhausted when at last he arrived
safely at the camp. His appearance was such that no explanation was
required by Daniel Boone, who was already there. He instantly noticed
the wound which Peleg had received on his hand and how blood-stained his
clothing was. He asked no questions, however, and at once attended to
the wants of his companion.
In a short time Peleg had recovered sufficiently to enable him to relate
the story of the adventures which had befallen him.
"You have lost Singing Susan?" suggested Boone.
Peleg nodded in response, but did not speak.
"Can you find the place where you dropped her?"
"Yes, sir."
"And the place where the Indian was hugged by the bear?"
Again Peleg nodded.
"If you will tell me where the places are I might go to both of them."
"Very well," said Peleg quickly, "but I shall go with you."
Boone said no more and busied himself in arranging the small packs which
the two scouts were carrying. It was not long before Peleg declared he
was ready to accompany his friend, and without a further word they
departed from their camp.
It was not difficult for the young hunter to find his way to the place
where the Indian had been seized by the angry mother-bear. Cautiously
approaching, both men peered intently about them, but they were unable
to discover any signs of either the warrior or the animal that had
attacked him. When they advanced to the spot where the tree had been
uptorn by the roots they found an abundance of footprints of the bear
and also of the moccasined Indian, but that was all.
"They both got away," said Boone at last.
"Or ate each other up," suggested Peleg with a smile.
"We will look for Singing Susan. You lead the way, Peleg."
Wearied as Peleg was by his recent contest, he nevertheless responded
promptly, and in a brief time the hunters arrived at the border of the
stream near which Peleg had been compelled to drop his rifle. When he
had cast it from him he had tossed it into the nearby bushes, dimly
thinking that if by chance he should escape he might return and find the
weapon which he prized so highly. A part of the scout's teachings
already had taken effect in this forethought of his young comrade. To be
prepared for any emergency was an essential part of life in the woods.
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 washing 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 passed, 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.
To such statements the great scout made no reply except to repeat the
reason for his coming, and the anxiety of Governor Dunmore in their
behalf.
"We will sleep over it and let you know to-morrow," declared one of the
men laughingly. "You don't think anything will happen to-night, do you?"
"I am willing to wait until the morrow," said Boone quietly. "You must
decide, however, within two days what you will do."
There was one young member of the surveyors' party who apparently had
not been long in the new world. He explained to Peleg, to whom he was
drawn because they were nearly of the same age, that he had come to
America to make a fortune. "I am the youngest son of Earl Russell. In
England the younger boys do not have many opportunities, because all the
property is left to the oldest son, so I have come to America, and hope
to secure for myself some great tracts of land over here. They may not
be valuable to-day or in the near future, but some time, as surely as
the sun rises, they will be of great worth. You must come with me," he
continued, "early to-morrow morning to Fontainebleau."
"Where?" demanded Peleg.
"Fontainebleau."
"Where is that, and what is it?" demanded the young scout.
"It is a name we have given to a spring about a mile from here on the
opposite side of the river. Five or six of us go there every morning and
drink the waters. We have an idea that they are better than the waters
of the real Fontainebleau."
"Where is that?"
The young Englishman laughed as he said: "'Tis plain that you have
never travelled in France."
"I never did," acknowledged Peleg. "I have travelled in the woods,
though, and before we get back to the settlement some of you may be glad
that Daniel Boone and I have had that experience."
The young Englishman again laughed, but made no reply.
In the morning, however, he, together with six other men, stopped at the
little cabin in which Daniel Boone and Peleg had been spending the
night, and in response to his invitation the young scout joined the
party when they explained that they were going to Fontainebleau to drink
of its marvellous waters.
The carelessness and indifference of the men somewhat alarmed Peleg, who
was still under the influence of his recent companion, the scout. Daniel
Boone had impressed upon the boy the need of continual vigilance and
silence. No one could say when danger might suddenly present itself.
Frequently he recalled the escape he had had through the shot which
James Boone in the preceding year had fired at the panther crouching
above his head. This always impressed the young woodsman afresh with the
need of continual care. Nevertheless he enjoyed the conversation of the
men with whom he was walking, though he himself seldom spoke.
When the little party arrived at the spring the waters caused Peleg to
express his disgust. Heavily charged with sulphur and various other
chemicals, the taste was one that did not appeal to the young scout. His
companions, however, professed to enjoy the water, which was
marvellously clear and sparkling, and drank deeply, casting themselves
prostrate upon the ground as they did so, and drinking from the spring.
Three of them were in this position and the other four were urging their
companions to make haste, when suddenly wild yells arose that seemed to
come from every direction at once. Before the startled men were fully
aware of what was occurring a band of Indians rushed from the woods,
some armed with rifles and others using their bows and arrows.
Only part of the little band of surveyors had been armed when they had
started that morning from the settlement for the spring at
Fontainebleau. The young scout, however, who was mindful of the
teachings of his leader, had brought Singing Susan with him. As Peleg
was about to fire, an arrow pierced the young Englishman between the
shoulder blades, and with a loud cry he fell to the ground.