Both Bob and Sandy felt proud to shake the hand of the man of whom they had heard so much from the Irish trapper; and, when they looked into his bold face, with its wonderfully magnetic eyes, they understood how it was that Colonel Boone had such a strange influence with the Indians along the Ohio.
"He has promised to stay wid us until we reach the river," said Pat O'Mara, as he joined the Armstrong family a little later, as they were comparing notes.
"And the others also?" asked David. "Daviess, Hardin, Harlan and the young man, Simon Kenton ([Note 6]), of whom Boone seems to be so fond, will they also remain in our company that long?"
"Sure they will," replied the trapper, quickly, "an' only too glad av the chanct. It isn't often they happens to run acrost white paple in this blissed wilderness. The sight av a lady must be a plisure till men as are exiled from home. Sure they mane to stay by us. And by the same token 'tis little we nade fear from the pesky rid varmints after this."
It seemed to Sandy that he could not sleep, much as he was in need of rest after the wakefulness of the previous night. He hovered around wherever Colonel Boone chanced to be, listening to his musical voice, and hanging upon his words.
The forest rangers were all dressed pretty much alike, after the custom in vogue at that day. The outside garment was a hunting shirt, or loose open frock, made of tanned deerskins. Leggins of the same material covered the lower limbs, fancifully fringed along the outside seam; the collar, or cape, of the shirt was also fringed. The feet were clad in beaded moccasins, no doubt made in some Indian wigwam.
Each man carried a hatchet or tomahawk suspended from his belt, while a keen-edged hunting knife reposed in a leather sheath. Besides, there were a powder-horn, bullet-pouch, and a little bag containing tinder, flint and steel, and such indispensables as a nomad, wandering day by day through unknown forests, would need for his comfort.
Sandy, even after he was induced to lie under a blanket, kept watching the imposing figure of Boone, as he moved about the camp. It was a plain case of hero worship on the boy's part. He had heard so much about this wonderful man, and now that he had seen him there was not the least disappointment connected with the reality.
Finally Sandy fell asleep, his last thought being a sincere wish that some day he too might possess a portion of the power over men that was given to Daniel Boone.