Before the band of white men, as they stood upon an eminence of the ridge on the day they first sighted Kentucky, was a vast rolling country, roamed by herds of horned beasts, splendid streams and valleys which promised a rich yield to the hand which drove the plow through it.
But after a space given to wonder and admiration, Boone noted that the sun was slipping little by little behind the green rim of the forest.
“I think, boys,” suggested he, “we’d better look for a likely place to camp for the night. To-morrow we’ll plunge into the new country and have a close-at-hand look at everything.”
In the mountain-side was a small gorge across which a cottonwood had fallen and hidden by a dense growth of thicket. Limbs were cut by hatchet and knife and placed against the fallen tree in such a manner as to form a sort of roof. Bark was pulled from those trees which gave it readily, and fitted over the limbs; soft balsam boughs were placed in the bottom of the gorge for beds; and here the adventurers made a home in the wilds which they kept until the winter came with its snow and rigors.
A turkey was roasted above the coals, impaled upon a ramrod; flap-jacks were baked upon heated stones, and full of the spirit of the thing and gifted with wonderful appetites the adventurers fell to and made a hearty meal.
Then, afterward, they stretched out upon the soft boughs and watched the moon drift across the sky while they talked of what was to come. All was peace; save for the cry of some night bird, or the stirring of the breeze among the trees, there was no sound.
Then, without a word of warning, there was a sudden crash from the black looming forest, and the ring of a rifle-shot went echoing and reëchoing from level to level until it died away in the stillness.
CHAPTER V
CAPTURED BY THE SHAWNEES
As the ring of the rifle died away, the little band in the hut reached for their fire-arms; with pieces cocked and ready, they stole out and crouched close to the ground, silently waiting. But nothing followed; whoever fired the shot was a long distance away and the firing of the shot had nothing to do with them.
“It may have been a signal,” said Boone, as he arose on one knee, his keen eyes searching the great shafts of gray moonlight which lay trailing on the mountain-side. “But it’s not likely. If we’ve enemies hereabouts they’d not take that way of getting news of us to each other. For one thing, we’d hear it; for another, powder is a hard thing for a redskin to get, at best, and I reckon they’re not in a hurry to waste any of it.”