Apparently unmoved by the peril in which he now found himself, Boone looked quietly into the faces of the braves and awaited their action.
In a brief time, in the midst of the band, he was conducted back toward Blue Lick Springs. Surprised at first by the direction in which they were moving, his fears for his friends increased with every passing mile. They were outnumbered by the Indians in the approaching party, and were without his leadership. How would they be able to defend themselves from an attack?
This question was unanswered when the band arrived within a half mile of the place they were seeking. Then one of the younger chiefs approached Boone and said in his broken English: "Big hunter. No hurt. Broders of big hunter no hurt. No shoot."
"Do you mean," inquired Boone, "that my friends will be taken prisoners and not shot?"
The Indian laughed, for his pleasure at the apparent success of their undertaking was manifest, and he said: "No shoot. No kill white broder."
"Do you mean," asked Boone once more, "that if they do not shoot, you will not?"
"No shoot. No hurt," answered the Indian.
"Which means that you will take us all to your village?"
The Indian nodded in assent.
"And if they do not shoot and you make captives of them, do you promise that you will not harm them when you take them to your village?"