A bitter look was on the face of the dark-skinned stranger as he listened to the words of Lark.
“Curses on this meddling hunter!” he muttered, between his teeth; “how could he have learned of Ke-ne-ha-ha’s plan to surprise this station. Now, thanks to him, they’ll be on their guard, and the Shawnees will have to fight for what scalps they take.”
Not an expression on the face of this stranger was unnoticed by Murdock, who still watched him keenly, but with a puzzled look.
“Can it be possible that it is he?” Murdock mused. “Would he dare to venture here in the midst of his foes? To venture into the presence of the men who, if they penetrated his disguise, would hang him up to the first tree without troubling either judge or jury? Yet I am sure it is he, though his face is darkened by some means, and his hair is black. He comes as a spy, probably. Ah!” and a brilliant thought occurred to the mind of Murdock. “Suppose I get him to aid my plans. He is in my power, if he be the man I think he is, for a single word uttered by my lips, and the settlers would almost tear him to pieces. I’ll watch him closely.” And with this resolution in his mind, Murdock did not remove his eyes from the stranger. The dark-skinned hunter was so occupied in watching the group of settlers and listening to their conversation that he did not notice that he in turn was watched.
“Well, neighbors,” said Jake Jackson, after thinking for a moment, “if the Injuns are a-comin’ we’ve got for to fight ’em, an’ I am ready for one.”
“And I for another!” cried a loud, clear voice.
All turned to look at the speaker, who had approached unobserved. He was a tall, muscular fellow, dressed in the forest garb of deer-skin.
“Sim Kenton, by the Eternal!” said Boone, taking him warmly by the hand.
It was indeed the famous scout, whose reputation as an Indian-fighter was second to none on the border.
“Glad to see you, Sim!” continued Boone, and the group of settlers eagerly echoed the welcome. “What’s the news?”