"I hardly think so," replied the scout, shaking his head. "The Indians are like children in many ways. When they have been successful, either on the warpath or in the chase, they immediately return to their friends to celebrate their good fortune with them. They are easily elated, and are almost childish in seeking the praise of those whose opinions they value. That is the reason why they have come back to the village with their twenty-eight prisoners."

"What will happen to us?" inquired Peleg anxiously.

"That no man can say. All that I am sure of is that we must bear whatever comes in the spirit of those who know that it is the best thing that could happen for every one of us."

"If they burn us at the stake?" inquired Peleg bitterly.

"Yes, even if they burn us at the stake. It will be hard to bear if they do that, but I am not without hope that they will adopt some other course."

"They may make us run the gauntlet."

"Yes, they may," admitted Boone, "but there is one thing, Peleg, we do not have to do."

"What is that, sir?"

"We do not have to bear anything before it comes. All that any man can do is to prepare for what may befall him, and then, whatever comes, bear it like a man. But he who worries over his troubles before they arrive is in no condition to bear them after they come."

"I know that is your way of thinking," said Peleg, "but I have not learned it yet."

"That's the correct word, Peleg."

"What word?" inquired the younger scout quickly.

"The word 'learned,' No one has it at the beginning of his life. Even Preacher Lythe told us one time that he, like Paul, 'learned' in whatsoever state he was, therewith to be content."

"So have you!" said Peleg cordially.

Boone smiled and shook his head as he replied: "I have learned not to reveal all my feelings. Beyond that I cannot say. But I am so fully convinced that whatever befalls me in this life is part of a great plan, that it would be foolish for me to complain or whine. Whatever happens, no one shall ever be able to say that he heard a whimper from Daniel Boone. Whate'er may come to us, lad, do not let any of these Shawnees see that you are in the least cast down."

"I shall do my best."

"I am hopeful," said Boone, "that we shall not be treated severely.

Chief Owaneeyo gave us his promise when we surrendered that we should be treated with kindness both on our journey and after we arrived at the Indian village. I believe he spoke truly."

"What I am afraid of," said Peleg, "is that some of these braves will not listen to him. I think Owaneeyo will live up to his promise as far as he is able."

"There, Peleg, you are borrowing trouble again. What shall I do with you?" said Boone gently. "For myself, I shall look for the better side, and if the hard times come I shall bear them as I may be able, but I am expecting that things will not be as bad as you fear, and I shall keep myself ready if Providence reveals any opening for our release. I believe firmly that such an opening will come and that we shall yet go back to our friends."

"I hope so," said Peleg fervently.

"But whatever comes, Peleg, you must be cheerful, at least in your appearance. If the Indians see that you are cast down or afraid, they will immediately lose their respect for you, and no one can tell what may happen."

In a measure the words of the scout proved to be true. The prisoners were treated with kindness and were a.s.signed to various members of the tribe in such a manner that they seldom had an opportunity of conversing with one another.

Mindful of the directions of the great scout, Peleg did his utmost to maintain a cheerful manner. He was confident, too, as the days pa.s.sed, that however heavy his own heart might be the Shawnees were sure that he was adapting himself to the life of their tribe and was not unhappy in their midst.

A few days after the captives had been brought into the village, Owaneeyo came to Boone one morning and said: "Big scout shoot. No shoot brave, shoot----"

The word which he wished to use failed the young chief, but laughing heartily he conducted the hunter to a place where Daniel Boone saw that a target had been erected. He concluded that the plan of the Indian was for him to enter into a contest with some of the best shots among the Shawnees.

With apparent eagerness he accepted the invitation, and soon many of the warriors were a.s.sembled, keenly watching the contest between Boone and three of the braves.

Daniel Boone wisely was shooting well, but not too well. Two of his compet.i.tors he easily outdid, but the third, who was Owaneeyo himself, and no mean shot, he permitted to beat him. The glee of the Indian when the match was ended was so marked and childish that Boone instantly decided that if future contests of a similar character were held he knew what his own course of action must be.

The following day a second contest was arranged, and at Boone's suggestion Peleg also was summoned to share in it.

"Lad," whispered Boone, while he was apparently bending over his rifle and looking to its priming, "I am sure if we are careful we shall soon be permitted to have our own rifles. Perhaps you can get yours now for the match, if you want it, but my advice to you in any event is to let the Indians beat you, but not too easily."

The delight of the Indians was even greater than on the preceding day, when Owaneeyo and one of his warriors succeeded in making a better record than Peleg and were tied with the work which the scout did.

At frequent intervals throughout the autumn these contests were held. In every event the white scouts were careful to shoot well, but not too well. So manifest was the feeling of affection and confidence among the Shawnees, especially for Daniel Boone, that it was not long before the white men, one or two at a time, were permitted to accompany the Indians whenever they went on the hunting path.

In this manner the winter pa.s.sed and already there were promises of the return of spring. March had come and the snows were beginning to disappear from the depths of the forest. It was in this month that Owaneeyo came to Daniel Boone one day, saying eagerly: "Broder go with Shawnees."

"Go where?" inquired Boone. His anxiety for his family in their faraway home by the Kentucky by this time had become almost unbearable. As they were unaware of the fate which had befallen him and his companions, and yet were fully aware of the cruelty of the Indians and the hatred which they had manifested for the settlers at Boonesborough, the scout was continually thinking of the anxiety which must possess his own family at this time. Not a word had come to them concerning his safety or his whereabouts, and there was no means by which such word might be sent. It was therefore with a feeling of consternation which it was difficult for him to conceal that he heard the statement of the young chief.

"Broder see where go," laughed the Indian, as if he was preserving some great pleasure for his friend.

Aware that protests were vain, Boone, with apparent cordiality, expressed his desire to accompany the Indians, although he was ignorant of the destination of the proposed journey.

To his surprise, the following day when the party set forth from the village, he found Peleg and nine other whites in the company.

There was no opportunity, however, for conversation among the captives, who, in spite of the freedom which of late had been granted them by the Shawnees, now were watched more carefully as the warriors sped through the forest.

When the band at last arrived at Detroit, Boone was not surprised at the destination. Here several days elapsed before Owaneeyo expressed his purpose to return. Just why Boone had been compelled to accompany the Indians the scout did not yet understand.

However, on the day before their departure, Governor Hamilton summoned Owaneeyo and Daniel Boone to his quarters.

After a few preliminary words the Governor said to the Indian: "I will give you 100 for the ransom of this man."

A scowl instantly appeared upon the face of the chief and he turned as if about to depart from the presence of the Governor.

Wheeling abruptly about, however, his eyes shining and an expression upon his face which showed how deep his feeling was, he said: "No sell broder. He my broder." As he spoke, Owaneeyo looked steadily into the eyes of the scout, and there was no question in the mind of Daniel Boone as to the sincerity of the young chief's feelings.

"But he is a white man," protested the Governor.

"He my broder," declared Owaneeyo, as if no further explanation need be made.

"Ask him if he would rather go with you or stay here."

"I would rather go," said Daniel Boone, "than have you pay so much gold for my release. The Shawnees have been good to me, and though I am a white man, my own friends and country could not deal more kindly with me than have Owaneeyo and his tribe."

"No take gold," said Owaneeyo, and strode from the Governor's quarters as he spoke.

Boone delayed a few minutes, explaining to the Governor that it would be impossible for him to accept such a ransom, saying in his simple way: "I am in the hands of a greater Governor than even you, Governor Hamilton, and I am sure that the right in the end will be done."

Apparently the commander was not yet fully persuaded, for on the following morning, before the Shawnees departed from Detroit, several of the Englishmen at the post, deeply touched with sympathy for the scout in his captivity, came to Boone himself with offerings of money for his release. The st.u.r.dy scout smiled, however, and shook his head, explaining that it would be impossible for him to accept such benefits which would forever be beyond his power to return or repay.