The path by which they traveled was well indicated; those who came after would have no difficulty in following it. The month of March was drawing toward its close when one day they halted at a small stream to drink; they had dismounted and for the moment their attention was relaxed. Suddenly, without a moment’s warning, a volley rang out from a dense thicket, two of the party fell to the earth—dead—and two others were wounded.
This attack was much like that on the previous expedition; never for a moment did the whites suspect that the redskins were near. But there the similarity ended. This time the pioneers had no women and children to think of; also they were, in the main, well-trained, crafty Indian fighters, and not a band of careless boys engaged in driving cattle.
The reports of the Indian rifles had hardly died away when each of the adventurers had gained a cover, tree, stump or rock; short and sharp spoke their unerring pieces and the ensuing yells told of braves who had paid for the attack with their lives.
Seeing that the white men were in no wise daunted by the onslaught and were determined to make a grim resistance, the Indians, who had little stomach for this sort of battle, withdrew.
“They are gone,” spoke young Barclay, as he mounted a hillock and saw the band skirting the forest, almost a mile away.
“For the time,” answered Boone. “They don’t care for a stand-up fight; but they’ll always be ready for the rifle-shot from ambush. Always expect them, lads; that’s the only way to get through in safety.”
Warily the pioneers proceeded along the track which afterward became known as “Boone’s Way”; but in spite of all this caution the guile of the red man over-matched them; three days after the first ambush, they fell into another; two more of the party fell dead, and three were wounded.
But grimly they fought the savages back; resolutely they pressed forward on their way toward the river.
“Stand by me, lads,” said Boone, “and all the Injuns in the region won’t drive us back.”
Early in April they reached the Kentucky River; on the south side of this was a fairly clear space, near a salt lick much used by the forest creatures. With an eye to all that was needed for a place of defense, Boone selected this place and at once the work of erecting a fort began.