Every member of the party declared that he was ready to follow wherever the great scout might lead.
Instantly Daniel Boone led the way into the forest. The anxious scout was so quiet and self-controlled that an uninformed spectator would never have suspected that he was labouring under special stress. Even Peleg was astonished at the composed bearing of the man.
Turning to Israel, the young scout remarked: "Your father is saving every ounce of his strength for the work ahead of us. He is not wasting any time crying."
"He never does," responded Israel proudly. "Do you know, Peleg," young Boone said, "there are times when Parson John Lythe preaches to us that he speaks of the Great Father of us all, and somehow I always think of Him as if He looked somewhat as my father does."
Deeply impressed as Peleg was by the reverence in which the son of Daniel Boone held his father, there was no opportunity at the time for further conversation.
In Indian file the pursuers advanced, and all soon were running, following the custom of the Indians. So skilled was the leader in this work that it was well known that he was able for many hours to maintain the pace at which he was now moving.
"One time," said Israel to Peleg, "my father ran like this for eight hours, then rested two hours, and then ran eight more, and after he had taken another rest he made the third stretch of the same number of hours."
The leader had not spoken except when in the dim light of the moon he was compelled to stop to search for the trail. Once when he halted he said to his companions: "The Shawnees are not moving in one body. They have broken up into ten parties and are moving in parallel lines."
"Did they expect to throw us off the trail in that way?" asked Israel scornfully.
"Doubtless they hoped to. Peleg," inquired Boone, turning to the young scout, "how many do you make out were in this band that stole Jemima?"