"There will be no lack of helping hands," Simon Kenton replied with a smile. "On the frontier men do not count the value of food and a shelter, as do those who live in town."
Then, as if to show he was pig-headed as well as ignorant, Mr. Sampson argued that he was not willing to accept charity from strangers; that it would be demeaning himself to receive anything for which he was unable to pay.
"You must do that, or take the chances of providin' sport for the painted snakes, as you were like to do a short time ago," Kenton replied curtly, and I understood by the tone that he was losing patience because of the man's stubbornness.
Having thus spoken the young scout turned once more to stand guard at the loophole, and Paul, the lad, his meal ended, came timidly toward where I was stationed.
He appeared to be a boy after my own heart, entirely different in manners and speech from his father, and I decided at once that we should be firm friends so long as he might remain on the frontier.
I could well understand that he was burning with a desire to ask questions, and did not hesitate to give him encouragement to begin.
He was eager to know how long I had lived in the wilderness; how often I had fought against the savages, and such like simple questions, all of which I answered until he was come to an end.
Then I asked about his home in Maryland; of his journey to the Ohio River, and, finally, how he felt while bound to the stake.
"The fear in my heart was so great that I did not fully have my senses," he replied with a shudder. "Not until the fires were kindled and the dancing had begun did I dream that those beasts would put us to death. I was like one in a dream until the first shot was fired, and a savage dropped dead almost at my feet."
"We didn't open fire any too soon," I said with perhaps a tinge of pride in my tone because I had played my part well, as it seemed to me.