“Hardy! Si!” he cried, in accents of delight. “Bless your dear hearts! The sight of you is surely good for old eyes! It looks like old times to see you two coming up to the cabin so.”
Twelve years had passed since these former followers of Boone had seen him. Of course, they had a great deal to tell one another. The old pioneer’s life had been comparatively uneventful in these later years, but his two disciples insisted on hearing all about it. At sight of the humble cabin they had feared that the old man might be in straitened circumstances. They were relieved to learn that he was very comfortably situated, and lived in his little log hut because he felt more at home in it than in a spacious dwelling. At times, he told them, he would spend a few weeks in the mansion of his son Nathan, a few miles distant, or in the roomy frame house of his son-in-law Callaway, but he was always glad to get back to his own little two-roomed cabin.
“The Lord has dealt kindly with me,” said the old man, reverently; “I have more than I need and no man can lay a claim against me. I left some debts in Kentucky but with a few good seasons’ hunting and trapping I got together a considerable pile of money. I went back—you two boys were in Illinois and I was mighty sorry not to see you—and I cleaned up every debt. When I got home again I had just half a dollar but—oh, Hardy!—it felt good to be a free man.”
“And you have been happy, Dad?”
“Yes, son, I’ve been happy. I won’t say that I was not sorry to leave the country that I had hunted over and fought for, but Kentucky was getting crowded and I felt that I needed more elbow room. It pleased the Lord to choose me as an instrument for the settlement of Kentucky, but I think my work was done before I left.”
Two or three days were delightfully spent by the three friends in exchange of experiences and in mutual reminiscences. Boone evinced particular pleasure in recalling the scenes and events connected with his first years in Kentucky. Without being garrulous he had become more communicative than when Kenton and Hardy knew him and he told them many details of his earlier life that they had never known.
Hardy had often felt curiosity on the subject of his foster-father’s religious belief. Boone’s life and actions marked him as a moral and God-fearing man, but he was not given to the discussion of such matters. During this visit, when they happened to be alone, Hardy took an opportunity to ask the old man for an expression of his creed.
“I never had much schooling, Hardy, and you know that churches are not over plentiful in the backwoods,” replied Boone, thoughtfully. “I’m afraid my religion is the home-made kind, and I dare say it wouldn’t seem quite the right thing to a parson, but I’ve used it as a guide through life, son, and it served me well enough. It’s just this,” continued the old man, baring his head: “To love and fear God; to believe in Jesus Christ. To do all the good to my neighbor and myself that I can, and to do as little harm as I can help. And to trust in God’s mercy for the rest.”
One morning Kenton and Hardy rose early as usual and, to their surprise, found the old man bustling about in front of the cabin. Two pack-horses stood tied to neighboring trees. Blankets, wallets, powder-horns, and a variety of other articles lay strewn around.
“Why, Dad, what’s forward now?” asked Hardy, in astonishment.