[XXII.]
THE LAST HUNT
Travelers in a strange land—“I’m dying to see old Dad!”—Old friends meet after many years—Kenton and Hardy find the old man happy in his simple life—“I have more than I need and no man can lay a claim against me”—The simple creed of a sincere Christian—One more hunt together—Boone proves that he is still a stout backwoodsman—And shows Hardy how to “bark” a squirrel—He tells his companions of his early life and adventures—His strange dread of dying in the wilderness—Kenton and Hardy part with the old man for ever—He stood at the cabin door and watched them out of sight.
Let us go back in our story and take a parting glimpse at some of its characters.
On a bright September day of the year 1808 two men stepped from a boat to the landing at St. Louis. They were both bronzed and weather-beaten and wore the familiar dress of the American backwoodsman. One was a fair-haired giant of about forty years, with laughing blue eyes and a musical voice. He had the careless, joyous manner of a boy and the air of one to whom mere living was a delight. His companion was a younger man but of graver aspect. His slight but sinewy frame gave evidence of strength and activity, and the clear-cut features bespoke alert intelligence.
The travellers carried rifles but were unburdened with baggage. They did not appear to be pressed for time nor hampered by business. Two or three hours were spent by them in rambling about the quaint town with its mixed population of Americans and Creoles, French and Spanish. Then they resorted to a tavern and ate a hearty meal. When at length they returned to the street it was with the air of men refreshed and with a purpose in view.
“Well, Hardy, how shall it be? On horseback, or on foot?” asked Kenton.
“On foot, Si, by all means. I’m dying to see old Dad, but I don’t want to ride up to his doorstep like a trooper. It will seem more like old times if we come in on the tramp. In fact, I want to arrive with a good fat buck on my back.”
“Right you are, but it shall be two bucks. We’ll come on the old man just as we used to do in the good old days at Boonesborough. Those were good times, Hardy! Things are getting too tame in the back country now. You and I will have to go farther west, I’m thinking.”
“Yes. If we stay this side of the Mississippi, I shall never get a chance to pay off that little debt I contracted to you. Do you remember—the first time I ever saw you?”