The process, however, was exceedingly slow, although the men toiled day and night because of their desire to return to their homes, and their fear of the prowling Indians. On the third day, when the supplies of food were low, Daniel Boone suggested that he should for a time leave his companions at their task while he secured some game which might be prepared for their dinner that night.

Taking his rifle and shaking his head when Peleg offered to accompany him, the hunter departed. No one expected him to be gone more than an hour. When, however, three hours had elapsed his friends became increasingly uneasy. They had relied on their numbers as being a sufficient protection against the prowling Indians. The savages were known to be near, and occasionally they had been seen skulking from tree to tree. Because of this condition, the decision of Daniel Boone to go alone had been opposed by his companions, and as his absence continued there was increasing anxiety for his safety.

Meanwhile, if Peleg and his companions had known what had befallen the scout, they would have had even stronger grounds for their fears.

For some reason Boone was unable to discover any game in the immediate proximity of the camp, so he proceeded several miles through the forest in his search. When he halted at last and looked about him he concluded that he must be at least four miles from the Blue Lick Springs. He was aware of the peril which might beset a lonely hunter at such times, and as the afternoon sun was steadily declining, decided to retrace his way toward camp.

As he turned abruptly he was startled to behold five young Indians swiftly approaching.

Without hesitating a moment Boone whirled about and ran. Exerting himself to the utmost, he sped through the forest, closely followed by his pursuers, who, for some reason which he did not understand, had not fired upon him.

Capable as Boone was of a long-continued race, speed could not be his main reliance. He was no longer a young man, and his pursuers were in the prime of their young manhood.

Glancing behind him, Boone was aware that his enemies were gaining upon him. Wheeling suddenly he darted into the brush, then leaped into a swiftly running stream and ran with the current for one hundred feet or more before he jumped to the bank on the opposite side and once more resumed his flight.

Apparently, however, it was impossible for him to shake off his pursuers. Doggedly they held to the chase, and the conviction was strengthening in Boone's mind that not only were the young warriors gaining steadily upon him, but also that they were maintaining a pace which would soon be too great for him to keep up. Indeed it was only a few minutes later when by an unusual burst of speed his enemies overtook and surrounded him.

Boone smiled in spite of his peril when he saw that their first demand was for his rifle. It was plain that they knew who he was and were proud of their success in capturing the great scout. One of the young Indians was able to speak a few words of English, and advancing to Boone he extended his hand as a token of friendship and shook hands after the manner of the white people.

"Big scout broder," said the young warrior, "No shoot. No kill."

Boone smilingly nodded his head in token of comprehension and without demur followed his captors as they led him rapidly through the forest.

If he was chagrined or cast down his feeling was not betrayed by his countenance.

The Indians seldom spoke as they proceeded, and Boone's surprise was great when after an advance of an hour he was taken into the midst of a group of one hundred and fifty Shawnee warriors.

Here, too, the hunter was recognized, and there were many expressions of delight over the capture of the man whom all the Indians of the region knew and feared. Boone soon was to learn that they also entertained for him a feeling close to affection.

Apparently unmoved by the peril in which he now found himself, Boone looked quietly into the faces of the braves and awaited their action.

In a brief time, in the midst of the band, he was conducted back toward Blue Lick Springs. Surprised at first by the direction in which they were moving, his fears for his friends increased with every pa.s.sing mile. They were outnumbered by the Indians in the approaching party, and were without his leadership. How would they be able to defend themselves from an attack?

This question was unanswered when the band arrived within a half mile of the place they were seeking. Then one of the younger chiefs approached Boone and said in his broken English: "Big hunter. No hurt. Broders of big hunter no hurt. No shoot."

"Do you mean," inquired Boone, "that my friends will be taken prisoners and not shot?"

The Indian laughed, for his pleasure at the apparent success of their undertaking was manifest, and he said: "No shoot. No kill white broder."

"Do you mean," asked Boone once more, "that if they do not shoot, you will not?"

"No shoot. No hurt," answered the Indian.

"Which means that you will take us all to your village?"

The Indian nodded in a.s.sent.

"And if they do not shoot and you make captives of them, do you promise that you will not harm them when you take them to your village?"

"No shoot. No hurt," repeated the Indian, nodding his head several times to add emphasis to his words. "Big scout go with Owaneeyo--tell broders."

"You want me to tell them that you are here, and that if they do not shoot then you will not shoot, either, and that you give your word that they will not be harmed if they go with you to your village?"

The Indian smiled broadly as he said: "Big scout go with Injun--tell broder. Shawnee no shoot. No hurt white broder. White broder shoot, Shawnee shoot. No take white broder to village, take white broder scalp."

For a few moments Boone silently considered. He well knew that it would be impossible for his friends to escape the united attack of the Shawnees. Every warrior was armed with a gun, and, as the band outnumbered the whites nearly five to one, it would be worse than useless for them to attempt to defend themselves. On the other hand, if they submitted quietly it might be possible partly to disarm the captors of their watchfulness, and as there were so many of the whites some opportunity might arise that would provide an avenue for escape. In the latter event the chances that more of the men would escape alive were much better than they would be if they attempted to defend themselves at the present time.

Accordingly, Boone said to the young chief: "I will go with you to tell my brothers what the chiefs say if you will come with me unarmed."

For a moment there was an expression of anger or suspicion in the eyes of the stalwart young Indian, but it quickly pa.s.sed, and he said: "Big scout no lie. Owaneeyo go without gun. Tell broders what Owaneeyo say to scout."

Turning to his companions the young chief gave his command for them to encircle the springs where the white men were at work. As soon as his orders had been obeyed he stepped up to Boone and bowed low to indicate his readiness to accompany the scout.

Without a word both advanced, with Boone moving directly before his companion. They soon came to the spot where the whites were engaged in their task, all unaware of the peril that was threatening them.

Many curious glances were given the companion of the scout when Boone and the chief first appeared. In compliance with Boone's suggestion, the men gave up their labours and a.s.sembled to hear what the chief had to say.

The speech of Owaneeyo was not long, but every word held a meaning which strongly impressed the listening settlers.

When the chief ceased speaking Boone himself stepped forward and said: "My friends, there is nothing else to do. I am sure you would not credit me with being a coward. I am speaking that which I know. There are at least one hundred and fifty of the Shawnees here and they are in a circle all about us right now. We have no defences behind which to fight, and they are able to pick us off without exposing themselves. If we run we should find in whatever direction we went that we were going straight into their arms. They promise us that if we do not fire upon them they will not shoot any of us. The chief also has agreed to see that we have good treatment not only here and on our way to their village, but also after we arrive there."

There were some murmurs of disapproval, but the word and the example of the scout were both so influential that a.s.sent was soon given, and the chief was told that the white men would make no protest.

At his bidding their rifles were all deposited in one place. A moment later he emitted a loud call, and almost as if they had sprung from the ground itself the Shawnees came running to the place where the settlers were awaiting them.

The entire party soon left the springs, the white prisoners being scattered among the warriors in such a manner that no two were able to converse. In spite of the fierce glances of some of the braves, there was slight fear on Boone's part that the word of Owaneeyo would be broken. Cruel the Indian might be in his own way, and treacherous according to the standards of the whites, but his promise, once having been given, was binding.

The band moved rapidly, stopping only occasionally by night. Not one of the prisoners was aware what Indian village was to be their destination, although the scout, from his familiarity with the region through which they were conducted, was convinced that they were being taken to the place called Chillicothe.

His surmise proved to be correct, and on the fifth day the returning party with their prisoners arrived at the capital of the Shawnees. Their coming was greeted with cries and shouts and many expressions of delight by the Indians of Chillicothe. To these, however, the warriors gave slight heed, and the prisoners endeavoured to follow their example, though it was difficult for some of them completely to a.s.sume an air of indifference. What the fate of the captives was to be was not to be known until the following day.

CHAPTER XX

AN OFFER OF RELEASE

There had been slight opportunity for Peleg to have any conversation with his friend throughout the march.

The Indians, rejoiced over their success in making a prisoner of the great scout, nevertheless appeared to be fearful lest the man whom they valued so highly should escape. Throughout the journey the prisoners were treated with consideration, although when night came and the halts were made for rest the white men were compelled to sleep within a circle formed by their captors. In this way they were deprived of every possibility of escape. When, however, they had arrived at the old village of Chillicothe, there were a few minutes when Daniel Boone and Peleg and several of their comrades were left together in the wigwam into which they had been thrust.

"Peleg," said Daniel Boone in a low voice, "what a mistake our enemies have made."

"What do you mean?" inquired Peleg quickly.

"If they had taken us to Boonesborough or to Logan's Fort and there had shown us to the settlers they could have demanded almost any price they might choose for our ransom."

"Will they not do it yet?" inquired Peleg.