More than half the valley had been traveled when the hunters came to a somewhat narrow pass, hemmed in with hemlocks and cedars, and large quantities of small brush. As they entered this pass Boone suddenly called a halt.
“Stop, men!” came in a loud voice, and then he continued, “What do you smell?”
“Smoke!” came promptly from a dozen of the party.
“It’s coming from the left, colonel.”
“It’s coming from dead ahead.”
“I believe they have set the forest on fire,” went on Daniel Boone.
“That is just what they have,” cried one old frontiersman. “And set it on fire in half a dozen places, too!”
The hunters could now see the smoke plainly. It came from ahead and from both sides of the valley. The brisk breeze was fanning the flames, which spread with marvelous rapidity.
“They want to hem us in,” said Colonel Boone. “Well, we’ll see if they are able to do it.”
The Indians were shouting defiance to their enemies. They had withdrawn to the sides of the valley, and now they sent in a dozen or more shots from the few rifles they possessed.