“Why, you haven’t forgotten that we are bound for Chillicothe, have you, Hardy? I reckon we’ve shaken your last night’s friends and now we’ll go about our own business. But we must hide the canoe where we are likely to find it when we come back. I swam over this morning, but we may be in a greater hurry than I was when we cross going home.”
They found what appeared to be a safe hiding place for the canoe and carefully marked the spot. Then they turned their faces towards old Chillicothe, which lay somewhat more than two days’ journey to the north. They were now not only in the Indian country during the season of greatest travel, but passing through a section of it that was cut up by trails running in every direction. It behooved them, therefore, to proceed with the utmost caution. They dared not light a fire, and were forced to subsist upon some water-soaked parched corn which Kenton had in his wallet and the edible berries that they occasionally found in the forest.
Hardy realized that these hardships and experiences were the best possible training for him. He cheerfully accepted the situation and positively refused to accept the larger portions of their scanty fare that Kenton pressed upon him. They had many a playful dispute on the subject, Hardy contending that Kenton was the bigger and therefore needed the more nourishment, and Kenton maintaining that his stomach was the better trained and consequently the better able to get along on short rations. Sometimes, when they were both hungry as wolves, they would engage in one of these arguments for half an hour, whilst the untouched corn and berries, lay between them.
With two such tutors as Boone and Kenton, it is hardly necessary to say that a bright and eager lad such as Hardy Goodfellow was, had by this time developed into a really creditable woodsman. Kenton’s method was much the same as Boone’s had been in the dear old hunting days in Clinch Valley. He let Hardy understand that he was depending upon him and only interfered to point out some serious oversight or failure on the part of his pupil.
In this journey to Chillicothe they constantly encountered signs of Indians. Kenton required Hardy to decide how long a time had elapsed since the party passed, how many persons there were in it, their sexes and physical condition, whether or not they had carried burdens, the speed at which they had been going, and a score of other deductions. Hardy was very often at fault, but seldom a second time on the same point.
Before noon of the third day they arrived within sight of Chillicothe, and lay hidden in the undergrowth to await the shades of evening.
[XVI.]
THE WHITE SQUAW
Kenton makes a reconnoissance from a tree-top—He stalks a young brave and captures him—The Indian guides the scouts to Micmacto—Where they watch the dances and sports from a point of vantage—The discovery and the alarm—“I am a white woman! For God’s sake take me with you!”—Three against hundreds—The attackers cannot pass the “dead line”—The white squaw proves her marksmanship—The escape over the precipice by night—The boldest course proves to be the wisest—A three days’ race through the forest—The Ohio is passed in safety—Boonesborough again.