The general line of the defence of the fort was at once mapped out by Sam, who without a word assumed the position of leader. It was he who arranged the details and the nightly guards which were maintained, and it was his word which decided any dispute that arose among the men.
One day Peleg was on guard in the adjacent forest. His watch was almost ended and he was about to return to the fort, when he was startled to behold an Indian approaching with the palms of both hands extended.
Holding Singing Susan in readiness for instant use, and glancing keenly about him into the adjacent forest to make sure that his visitor was unaccompanied, Peleg waited patiently for the stranger to approach.
As the warrior drew near Peleg looked at him with increasing astonishment. Dressed in the Indian garb, the warrior, who seemed to be only about twenty years of age, nevertheless had no features like those of the neighbouring tribes. Tanned, the stranger undoubtedly was, but nevertheless his skin did not have the bronze colouring of the Indian. His figure and even his walk were more like the white man's. And yet in every other point the stranger apparently was of the Indian race.
As he drew near Peleg, his face was lighted by a smile as he said, "Me broder. Me white Shawnee."
Peleg did not respond, although his astonishment was increased by the speech of the approaching warrior.
"Me wan' go home. No fader. Me Shawnee fader. Me wan' white fader. White moder dead. White fader dead. No Shawnee fader some more."
The puzzling statements were followed by some words unintelligible to Peleg, though he concluded that they were spoken in the Shawnee tongue.
"Do you want to see Daniel Boone?" he inquired.
Gesticulating forcefully, the young man inquired, "He me fader?"