“I know it,” said Ruby, quietly. “They will follow me to kill me, till I am safe in Harrodsburg!”
Another man might have asked “why.” Boone had no idle curiosity; he judged unerringly that the girl was telling the truth, and wished for no reasons. She gave them herself a moment later.
“They know my errand to Colonel Clark, and Governor Hamilton has sent them after me,” she said, meaningly.
Then Boone knew all. The great chief of the Wabash tribes had doubtless sent his daughter to open negotiations with the Americans, and the English Governor at Detroit had got wind of it in some manner, and was resolved to intercept the fair messenger; for the Revolutionary War was at its hight, and the British were reckless in subsidizing savages.
As he thought over the atrocious scheme, the old hunter’s lips compressed themselves into an iron line, and he growled:
“If the dogs cross my path to Harrodsburg, they must look to themselves. You shall go there safe, Miss.”
The report of a rifle a short way off, was followed by the cheery shout of Kenton, “A fat buck, and no Injun sign yet.”