Carefully and cautiously the three proceeded through the thicket.
No hostile Indians barred their course, and by the time the sun reached the meridian, the three entered the stockade that fenced Point Pleasant.
Warm was the greeting that they received from the settlers, but many a sun-bronzed cheek grew pale, and many a stout heart beat quick when the scouts told the story of Ke-ne-ha-ha’s expedition.
It was sad news indeed to the hardy borderers when they learned that the great Shawnee chieftain had dug up the war-hatchet, and would soon bring his painted warriors—hot for slaughter—to the banks of the Ohio.
Then, too, for the first time, Boone heard the story of the strange disappearance of General Treveling’s daughter, Virginia.
The rage of the old Indian-fighter knew no bounds when he heard that the renegade, Girty, had abducted the girl.
“The eternal villain!” he cried, in wrath, “let me draw ‘bead’ on him once, and he’ll never carry off any other white gal to give to the painted devils that he calls his brothers.”
The party headed by Jake Jackson, who had been in search of traces of the missing girl, had returned to Point Pleasant just before the arrival of the three scouts. Their search had been fruitless; no traces of the missing girl had they discovered.
“I’ll tell you what it is, General,” said Boone to the aged father, whose sad countenance showed plainly his deep grief, “thar ain’t any use of looking for the gal, or that ’tarnal villain either, in the timber ’bout hyer. He’s made tracks long ago for the Injun settlement by the banks of the Scioto, Chillicothe, as the red heathens call it.”