That afternoon they swam in the clear, broad river. Then they lay on the bank in the sunshine. Daniel had never been so happy. However, he knew he must soon go home. His mother would worry if he did not return before dark.
"I must go now. I must drive the cows home," he told his Indian friend.
The boy frowned. "Women's work," he told Daniel.
Daniel laughed. "It may be for the Indians, but it's not at the Boones' house. I think I'd like being an Indian. An Indian boy has more fun than a white boy."
"There is much for an Indian to learn," the other told him. "We must learn to hunt, track animals, fish, and find our way in the wilderness."
"Those things are not work. They are fun," Daniel told him. "I wish I were an Indian. I believe I'd make a better Indian than a white boy."
When Daniel reached home at last, his mother scolded him.
"You should not have gone off with that Indian boy. You can't trust the Indians," she told her son.
"He was a good boy. I liked him," Daniel said.
His mother shook her head. "Indians are not like us. We think differently from them."