"About forty."
"I wish much to hear him tell of his adventures in this land which he says the Indian calls Kantuckee. Do you know what that word means?"
"No."
"Do you think your father is fearful the redskins may attack us before we come to the Licks, where he affirms he will make our settlement?"
"You must ask him," replied young Boone. "I do not believe he thinks that we or any other band of settlers will ever build a home in such a country as he has found without having to fight for it. Peleg, I have almost decided that one never gets anything worth having without having to fight some kind of a battle."
"That is surely so," replied Peleg, laughing softly as he spoke. "I shall never forget how Schoolmaster Hargrave had to fight to teach me to use a quill. The letters somehow would not come, not even when he set his best copy for me. He told me one day that they looked like a whirlwind in distress. I was minded several times to give up the whole attempt, but he told me to fight on, and now I am glad that I did."
"I am told that the schoolmaster later expects to come where we are going."
"So I have heard. I hope he will leave his ferrule behind. Whew! My knuckles ache now with the mention! Still he seemed to get some pleasure out of it, but——"
Peleg stopped suddenly as a faint cry was heard far in their rear. It was a sound not unlike that made by a child in distress. Weird, pathetic, startling as it was, neither of the boys was for a moment unaware of its meaning. It was the cry of a panther far in the distance.