Scouting with Daniel Boone

by Everett T. Tomlinson

"I declare to you," whispered Peleg, "that there is some one following us."

"Verily," whispered James Boone, although he did not turn away his eyes from the forest as he spoke.

The alarm of the two young guards was not unnatural, as has been said. On the lower slopes of the mountain great trees were growing, but as the band of emigrants had steadily climbed, the timber diminished, and even underbrush had become somewhat thinned. Still, on every side of the trail there were sufficient bushes to hide the presence of an enemy that might be following the pioneers. Both boys knew that game of many kinds abounded in the wilderness. Many a time their skill had been tested long before they had left their homes on the Yadkin.

That their perils would be increased as they withdrew into the region in which the foot of no white men except Daniel Boone and his comrade had ever trod they both were well aware. On this September day the advancing settlers had been moving in a much longer and thinner line than had been adopted the preceding day. The difficulties of the ascent and the frequent great rocks in their way made their progress over the mountain more difficult and different from the easier march through the valley on the opposite side. Only an occasional white man had been seen since they had left their homes, and there was constant fear of the red men, almost all of whom were exceedingly hostile at this time and very jealous in guarding their own domains from the incursions of the whites.

Perhaps not unnaturally most of those who were in Boone's party looked upon the Indian as a natural enemy. Few were mindful of the fact that the red men were but doing their utmost to defend their own homes and retain their hunting grounds from the trespassing whites, who, they were fearful, would soon push them from the region, unless by determined warfare the Shawnees and other neighbouring tribes might be able to prevent their entrance and settlement.

It was well known that the region into which Daniel Boone was leading his company on that September day was considered by the Indians to be the best of all their hunting grounds. There the buffalo and the deer abounded. Wild turkeys were so numerous that the report which Daniel Boone had brought scarcely had been credited by his friends. There were times in the autumn when great flocks of wild pigeons sweeping through the woods might be felled with a club by a man standing in the way of their advance. It is true that where so much game was found dangerous animals also abounded. The panther and bear were much in evidence, and prowling wolves often made the night hideous with their weird and terrifying howls.

There was no one in the advancing company who did not fully understand what the cost of seeking and making a new home in the wilderness was likely to be. Doubtless some would fall victims to the cunning of the hostile red men. Others were certain to lose their lives in attacks by the treacherous panther, the deadliest four-footed foe of the white men in the new world.

When the two young pioneers, who formed the rear guard of the slowly moving procession, resumed their advance, both were silent for a time and keenly observant of the woods on either side of the trail left by those who had preceded them. In places the autumn foliage already was tinted with scarlet or gold. The soft air of the September day became slightly cooler as the party steadily approached the higher regions of Powell's Mountain.

In the midst of such surroundings it was impossible for the young hunters long to retain their anxiety, though neither ceased his keen watchfulness.

"How old is your father?" inquired Peleg at last.