The time passed slowly, indeed, until they heard the order given to edge the boat in toward the southern shore of the river, so that they could observe it more closely, in order to make sure that enemies were not lurking in the undergrowth.
Pat O’Mara gave it as his opinion that there seemed to be no evidence that the Indians were near by; and, as he, too, wanted to stretch his legs by a little side hunt, it was finally determined to land.
Of course, there must be more or less danger in leaving the protection of the strong cabin of the flatboat, and venturing into the depths of the forest; but, as has been said before, the life of a pioneer is so made up of taking risks that he assumes chances without much thought or anxiety. When the danger came along they would trust to their ability to take care of themselves. And every one of the party felt pretty much the same way.
Mr. Armstrong had a crude chart of the river, but it was founded on almost guesswork, so little was the region to the westward known at the time. The place where Cincinnati now stands was called Fort Washington; and, an indefinite distance further down, another mark on the map showed where Harrodsburg stood, about where the city of Louisville can be found to-day, marking the falls of the Ohio during low water times.
So, apparently, the early settlers had a pretty good eye for the most advantageous natural sites, upon which to found the white man’s cities of the future.
What lay beyond Harrodsburg no one really knew. Somewhere, in some manner, the Ohio joined forces with the mighty Mississippi; and this bold little company of men and women were on the way to learn the truth, taking their lives in their hands in so doing.
When the boat had been tied up, Pat and the two boys started into the woods, bent upon bringing back fresh meat if it could be procured by any means in their power.
“Sure,” remarked the trapper, when they found themselves out of sight of the river, and surrounded by the primeval forest, “we must be afther kapin’ clost enough till each ither to hear a signal whistle. If wees do be afther catchin’ that same, it wull mane to come tegither as quickly as yees can. But only a cooie stands for ‘all’s well, kape on a-huntin’ right along wid yees, an’ may the bist man win.’”
When they divided their forces, so as to cover more territory, Pat was wise enough to station himself midway between the brothers. Here he could keep in touch with either Sandy or Bob, a different sort of call meaning that he wanted a response from the one it designated, and about whom he might be getting a trifle anxious.
Pat had hunted many a time with such old frontiersmen as Jo Davies, John Hardin and Silas Hardin. He knew pretty much all there was to be learned about the ways of the cunning woods folks, from the little mink up to the great buffalo that, if angered or wounded, would come charging full at the hunter, ready to use his wicked short horns in hurling him many feet into the air, or grinding him into the earth, if he were so unlucky as to be caught napping.