Paul crept nearer to grasp my arm with a convulsive clutch, and I knew the lad was feeling most keenly for the prisoner, being able to understand full well what must have been the captive's thoughts, for had he not occupied the same position?

I had leveled my rifle, aiming at the Indian who stood nearest Simon Kenton, determined that the ball should find its billet, when the sharp crack of Major Clarke's weapon rang out, and a dancing savage fell to the ground with a shriek of pain and defiance.

Instantly half an hundred rifles were discharged, and it seemed to me as if every feathered head went down, after which the scene was obscured from view by clouds of sulphurous smoke.

CHAPTER VIII.
AT THE RENDEZVOUS

Even before the smoke had cleared away sufficiently for me to see the captives, our people rushed forward, all reloading as they ran, and during two or three minutes the confusion was so great that I could not make out what might be going on.

Paul and I had dashed forward with the rest, and, instinctively, so far as I was concerned, we directed our steps toward the prisoner, who was bound hand and foot in such a manner that I question if he could have moved either of his limbs by so much as a hair's breadth.

The effect of the fire was not so deadly as I had at first supposed. More than one of the savages must have dropped to the ground to disconcert our aim, as I now understood on seeing that no more than five lay stretched out on the ground near the captive.

The remainder had taken to cover a short distance away, and two of our men dropped as they ran forward, while I saw bloodstains on the shirts of two others.

"We must get to shelter!" I shouted to Paul, swerving aside from the course we had been pursuing as I spoke, and clutching his arm in order that he should be forced to do the same.

The brave little lad had no idea of leaving Simon Kenton at the mercy of the painted brutes, however. It was reasonable to suppose they would shoot him rather than allow a rescue, and Paul was bent on saving him at the hazard of his own life.

Wrenching his arm from my grasp, and almost at the same instant drawing his hunting knife, he dashed on toward the tree to which the scout was bound, and involuntarily I followed; but no credit should be given me for the act, because I was hardly conscious of my own movements.

Here, there and everywhere around us, as it seemed to me, rang out the reports of rifles, and every weapon was held with deadly aim.

It was as if the air was full of death-dealing missiles, and yet no one of them touched us as we sped across what was now an open space, both white men and savages having retreated to the nearest shelter.

Paul was the first to reach the captive, and with an exultant shout he began hacking at the deer-hide thongs with which the poor fellow was bound.

"You're lads after my own heart!" Simon Kenton cried, his voice ringing out clear and distinct even above the yells of the combatants and the rattle of the rifles. "If I live it may be possible to pay you two for this night's work!"

His words drove the timorousness from my heart, and before he ceased speaking I was aiding Paul in severing the thongs with as much eagerness as if it had been my idea rather than his to perform such perilous work.

The savages began to shoot at us in the hope of preventing our purpose, and, perhaps, to kill the prisoner at the same time, whereupon our people opened such rapid and murderous fire that not a be-feathered head dared to show itself, and in a comparatively short space of time Simon Kenton was running stiffly toward the nearest shelter.

He had been bound in one position so long that his limbs were nearly helpless; but he managed to get over the ground nearly as fast as could we two lads, and picked up a rifle that had fallen from a dead Indian's hand even as he ran.

It was to me as if the fight had hardly more than begun when we three were in a place of comparative safety once more, and on the alert to pick off a foe.

Paul and I had a sufficient amount of ammunition to provide the scout with what he needed in order to continue his portion of the fight, and as he stood behind a big gum tree watching keenly for an opportunity to avenge the insults he had endured, we carried on quite a friendly conversation.

"What did you do when mornin' came an' I failed to show up?" Kenton asked, whereupon I replied quickly, thinking that the present was by far the best time I would ever have in which to acknowledge my fault.

"We went in search of you after an hour had passed, and failed to find the canoe on our return."

Then Paul, most like, understanding that I would have the story told in a manner favorable to myself, gave a hurried account of our adventures from that time until we learned of the scout's trouble.

"I ran straight into the arms of four snakes who had heard me coming, and showed myself to be the biggest idiot that ever made a try of goin' down the Ohio River," Kenton said bitterly, and I rejoiced at the tone, for it told that he would not be likely to inquire very closely into my folly.

He had been bound to the tree where we found him, since early morning, and during such time the savages had given him a slight foretaste of what was to come, by cutting his body here and there until the blood flowed in tiny streams.

At the moment it struck me as strange that we three should be talking of the past in this leisurely fashion, interrupting ourselves now and then to discharge our rifles when a tuft of feathers could be seen; but I afterward came to know that in times of greatest danger Simon Kenton appeared to be occupied with the most trifling affairs.

I asked him once, when the conversation lagged, if he had thought Major Clarke's force might come to his relief, and he replied emphatically:

"I had no idea, lad, but that they were many miles below here. You can be certain that I turned the matter over and over again in my mind. There was ample time for reflection, and I could see no way but for me to go into the other world as cheerfully as possible. I was determined those sneaks shouldn't bring a cry of pain to my lips. But for you two, for I'm countin' that some of the reptiles would have shot me before this if you hadn't come up like little men, riskin' the bullets, to set me free, I'd taken no more part in this 'ere trip of Major Clarke's. If either of you ever get into a tight place, you can count on my standin' close alongside while the breath stays in my body."

This was the moment when I should have confessed that but for Paul, he, Simon Kenton, would yet be bound to the tree; but the words were not spoken, and I have never ceased to regret that I did not make the explanation due my comrade.

As I read over what is here set down it seems much as if I had made it appear that we were giving little heed to whatever might be passing around us, when, as a matter of fact, we were keenly alive to all that went on, and lost no opportunity of dealing the painted fiends a deadly blow.

Nor were the other members of our party at all backward in doing their duty. As when we faced the savages further up the river, every man did his best, and this display of courage was not to the liking of such sneaks as had counted on shedding Simon Kenton's blood.

Within half an hour from the time the scout was set free, they began to draw back, and we pressed our advantage until such a blow had been dealt as must have taught them a lesson.

Then was heard Major Clarke's voice ordering the men back to the canoes, and within a few moments we were being ferried across to the flat-boat, where the other members of the expedition were waiting anxiously to learn the result of the venture.

There was no longer any urgent reason why we should remain silent, for the noise of the conflict had alarmed every painted snake within sound of the rifles, and our men discussed the situation without taking the precaution to speak in whispers.

The general belief appeared to be that these two parties whom we had fought since daybreak, were one and the same. Our first meeting was with those who were pushing on up the river in advance to spy out the land, and it was the main body that had made of Kenton a prisoner.

All that had happened was for the best. But for my folly many men might have been slain, and that folly would not have been committed but for the fact of the scout's having been taking prisoner.

Clearly the good God had interposed in our favor, and we were come out of the fights with nothing more serious than wounds which, if properly cared for, would soon heal.

Within half an hour from the time we stepped on board the flat-boat after having released Kenton, he insisted that Paul and I should lay down to sleep, and at the moment I believed this display of care for us arose from our efforts to release him at a time when death was looking into his face.

Having had no sleep the night before, we were only too glad to act upon his suggestion, and in a short time both of us lads were sleeping soundly as only tired boys can.

At midnight we came to understand why Kenton had been so solicitous for our welfare.

Then he aroused us, saying as we opened our eyes:

"I reckon you lads don't want to stay here any longer, an' it's time we were movin'?"

"Where are you going?" I asked sleepily.

"Ahead of the flat-boats. Unless we start now there's little chance we can do the party much good, an' I'm countin' on makin' a better job than was the first one."

It was not to my liking, this setting out in the middle of the night to drift through a country infested, as we had by this time every reason to believe, with savage enemies, and I failed to understand how we could be of benefit to the volunteers by sailing down the river in the darkness when we might pass an hundred bands of reptiles without having any suspicion they were near.

This much I said to Kenton, and he replied with a laugh:

"I reckon we can count on the river's bein' clear for the next thirty miles, an' after we've gone that far it'll be a case of layin' alongside the bank to wait for daylight, or takin' a quiet little scout ashore."

"As you did last night," I said quietly, giving but little heed to the words, and a second later I could have bitten my tongue for having made such a slip, for the scout said grimly:

"Perhaps it'll be as well if we don't talk much about last night. The lad who leaves a canoe to search for a comrade who's out scoutin', not havin' left any word as to where he might be goin', ain't in good trim to cast up old scores at others."

Now it was I understood why Simon Kenton had refrained from making any disagreeable remark when Paul told of our movements. He realized that we had done a reckless thing, but was not minded to say what might have hurt our feelings at a time when we had just aided in saving his life.

But for my quick tongue I should never have known that he realized fully all my folly.

It can well be fancied that, after this reminder that I was not to be trusted in time of danger, my lips remained closed, and in silence I set about making ready for the journey.

The dugout which Kenton had decided to take was lying alongside, and in her had already been placed such a supply of provisions as we might need.

There was little for Paul and I to do save get our sleepy eyes wide open, and clamber over the side of the flat-boat, a task which we performed in silence.

Major Clarke was awake to give us his final instructions, and after he had held a private conversation with Kenton, the latter came into the canoe, casting off the hawser as he said in answer to a whispered remark of the commander's:

"Never fear but that I know full well what may happen, an' you can count on my bein' more careful than before."

I had an idea that these words might have reference to my foolishness of the night previous, and did not seek to learn what Major Clarke had been warning him against.

We pushed off into the darkness, our light craft moved quickly away by the rapid current, and almost immediately it seemed as if we were wholly alone in the wilderness once more.

Save to keep the canoe in mid-stream, Kenton made no effort to direct her movements, and we floated down the river in silence, keeping sharp watch on either bank while I promised myself never again to be guilty of giving way to fear.

Paul, brave lad that he was, held his peace. Thus far he had covered himself with the glory which can be gained when one is pitted against such enemies as were ours, and the fact that I had not given him full credit when there was an opportunity for so doing, only caused me to feel the more keenly that he was my superior even though having had no previous experience.

I guessed that the current carried us a good five miles an hour. The distance from Corn Island to the rendezvous at the mouth of the Tennessee River was said to be considerably more than three hundred miles, and at the rate of progress made by the heavy boats, lying by during the night as they did, it would require full six days in which to make the journey.

We in the canoe could not look forward to less than five days of this drifting on the river, in case we met with no delay, and while I thought of my mother it seemed as if we were going to the other side of the world. I wondered whether I might ever see her again, and it appeared much as if the chances were against our meeting, judging from the dangers into which we had already run when the voyage was hardly more than well begun.

By this dwelling upon the possibilities I soon worked myself into a most cowardly frame of mind, from which I did not awaken until we were come to a long stretch of sandy land either side of the river, where there was no fear our enemies could find a hiding-place.

Then it was that Simon Kenton started a conversation, as if knowing I needed cheering, and he did not bring it to a close until we were near the wooded portion of the shores again.

When daylight came we had seen nothing to cause alarm, although all knew full well that we might have passed scores of savages without being aware of the fact, and the scout paddled the boat toward the western shore, as he said in a low tone:

"I'm countin' on havin' a look around, lads, an' this time you'll stay quietly aboard till I come back, or the flat-boats heave in sight."

Paul, understanding that these words were somewhat in the nature of a reproof to me, said boldly:

"It was well for you, Simon Kenton, that Louis insisted on going ashore, else the sun had never risen again for your eyes."

"All that I know right well, lad, an' I'd be a brute if I didn't give the fact due weight; but I'm not willin' you should put your own lives in peril for me. You've got people who love you, while I – "

He ceased speaking suddenly as if having said more than he intended, and again my tongue was an unruly member.

"Haven't you any kin who would mourn because of your absence?" I asked, and Simon Kenton's face grew pale, bronzed though it was by the weather.

"The less that's said about me the better," he replied curtly, and then, the canoe being alongside the bank, he sprang out to make her fast, thus putting an end to further words.

He was absent no more than half an hour, during which time Paul and I sat motionless and silent, hidden by the foliage, from the view of any who might pass either by land or water.

When he returned we knew he had seen no signs of danger, although not a word was spoken until we were a mile or more from the halting place. Then he said quietly:

"I reckon we've already met all the reptiles who are roamin' hereabout, an' that we shan't run our noses into any more fights this side of the Tennessee River. We'll keep a sharp lookout just the same, though, an' pull up to-night so's not to get too far ahead of the volunteers."

As he said so we did. During the day we drifted with the current seeing naught of danger, and at nightfall pulled the canoe up under the overhanging foliage to enjoy a good night's rest.

The story of this day's journey was that of the days which followed until we were come to the rendezvous, arriving, as we believed, not more than four and twenty hours in advance of Major Clarke's force.

Since the day when Simon Kenton was made prisoner we had seen no signs of the foe, and it seemed certain that then we had come upon the only warlike band outside the British outposts.

When we stepped from the canoe at the mouth of the Tennessee River I drew in a long breath of relief, for at that moment I was nearer exhaustion than I ever believed would be possible when one has done nothing more than remain inactive.

To sit in a narrow boat like our dugout day after day, not daring to move lest she should be overset, is real labor. I had never had much experience in such traveling, and felt that I really needed no more.

We made camp by building a lean-to of light stuff, and while Simon Kenton went back into the thicket to search for game of some kind, Paul Sampson and I lounged lazily about, enjoying to the utmost the possibility of stretching our limbs at full length.

The scout was yet absent when we saw emerge cautiously from the foliage four white men, and but for the fact that they carried a goodly supply of meat, thus showing they had been out hunting, I might have suspected them to be British spies.

As it was, I did not feel at liberty to give any especial information concerning ourselves, and warned Paul to be on his guard against speaking of the flat-boats; but rather to let them believe we were simply journeying down the river in search of a homestead location.

As a matter of course the sharp-eyed hunters saw our lean-to immediately they emerged, from amid the underbrush, and came directly toward us.

In the wilderness men are either enemies or friends; there is no half-way ground as amid townspeople, and I at once decided in my mind that these newcomers might be depended upon, although I wished most heartily for Simon Kenton, who could, take the responsibility of receiving them.

Their first question was as to whether we were alone, and on being told who was our companion and leader, one of the party expressed the greatest pleasure at meeting him once more.

"I've scouted an' trapped with young Kenton," the hunter said warmly, "an' a better friend I never hope to have. Where are you headin', lads?"

I stammered, not willing to give much information until we knew more regarding the strangers, and yet hesitating to refuse an answer to a simple question, when Paul said quickly, relieving me of my embarrassment:

"If you know Simon Kenton, sir, you can well understand that it does not become us boys to speak of his purpose. He has gone in search of meat, and will soon return to answer for himself."

"Well, said, lad. You have a cautious tongue, an' it's needed hereabouts, because some of us have white enemies as well as red. We can wait for Kenton, an' meanwhile there'll be no great harm done if we set to work cookin' a bit of this 'ere game."

Then the men took possession of our poor camp, and the odor of meat cooking was soon rising on the evening air, sharpening our appetites until, but for the shame of it, I would have begged some of the food before it had more than been browned by the flames.

The meal was not yet prepared when Simon Kenton appeared, and I was rejoiced to see him greet the hunters as if they had been old friends, for it told that during this night at least we had nothing to fear.

Without hesitation he explained the purpose of our coming, and told of the flat-boats with their loads of volunteers which might be expected on the morrow, whereupon the strangers seemed highly gratified.

It appeared, as I soon learned by the conversation, that these men had come from Kaskaskia; but were by no means on friendly terms with the commander of the British post there.

They were in sympathy with the efforts of the colonists to shake off the yoke which the king had put upon them, and declared their purpose to join Major Clarke's force, if that officer should be willing to receive them.

"I'll answer for it that the major gives you a hearty welcome," Kenton said in a tone of satisfaction, "an' by your aid we shall be able to surprise the outpost."

Then the conversation ceased in order that all hands might partake of the meal, which by this time was prepared, and we two lads felt that the most dangerous portion of the enterprise was over, although at least two British garrisons were yet to be captured.