"Did young Boone go with you?"

"No, he heard another 'turkey.'"

"Where is he now?" demanded Sam sharply.

"I do not know. We must get word to the scout."

Nothing more was said until the returning hunters, both of whom were running at their utmost speed, came within sight of the place where the camp had been made. In a brief time they gained the open place in front, for the camp this time had been pitched on a small plateau, sheltered by a frowning cliff on one side and protected by a steep, rocky gulch on another, while in front of it was sufficient s.p.a.ce to enable the watching guard to detect the approach of an enemy from that direction.

As soon as they were within hearing, both hunters shouted their warnings; but even as they raised their voices the sound of rifles was heard and a moment later there was a sudden cry and rush made by at least three score of the Indians. The suddenness of the attack as well as the lack of preparation, due to the faith of the emigrants in the security of the position which they had selected for their halt, and their confidence in the guards which had been stationed, prevented an immediate response.

The Indian warriors, hideously painted, crouching low and running swiftly, and at the same time emitting their terrifying whoops, fired at every paleface that they could see.

To the startled pioneers the region seemed to be filled with their foes. The screams of frightened children, the calls of the women, and the shouts of the men as they summoned their companions increased the confusion. For a time the din was almost deafening. Above the shouts and cries were heard the frequent reports of the rifles of the attacking party.

Peleg and Sam, who by this time had gained the shelter of the camp, instantly joined the few men that had rallied as soon as the warning was given. All now were doing their utmost to check the onslaught. Every man, without waiting for orders, fired at the shouting, leaping savages.

As soon as their guns had been discharged, however, it was plain that the attacking party had many other weapons. Those who had emptied their rifles brandished their tomahawks and tried to make amends by the fierceness of their cries for their lack of more formidable ways of attacking. In a brief time the defenders were thrown into confusion, outnumbered as they were at the moment, and driven back toward the place where the camp was located.

It was speedily known that several had fallen before the fire of the warriors, but just who or how many there was no time to ascertain. It was now every man for himself as they sought protection behind the great trees or darted for the friendly shelter of rocks, which were numerous in the region.

It was at this time, however, that the great leader himself appeared upon the scene. Familiar with the ways of the Indians, Daniel Boone ordered every man to conceal himself behind some tree and make no attempt to flee from the place until the entire party had been driven away. The presence of Boone seemed to revive the courage of the retreating guards. As soon as sheltering places had been secured, every man reloaded his rifle and, following the example of the great scout, fired at the enemy, who now almost had crossed the open s.p.a.ce before the camp.

The fierceness of the onslaught of the Indian warriors was well known, but it was also understood by every white man that the red men seldom persisted in a long attack. A stealthy and sudden dash was their favourite method of fighting, but if the resistance was determined or prolonged they would usually withdraw to the shelter of the forest.

In their present attack the Indians followed their customary plan. As soon as Boone and his companions ceased to flee and began to return the fire with vigour, the Indians faltered, and then, after they had given several unusually wild whoops and a final discharge of their weapons, they all fled back to the protecting forest from which they had so suddenly emerged.

As soon as the enemy had departed, Daniel Boone, who thoroughly understood Indian nature and ways, doubled the guards, a.s.signed some of his followers to the task of bringing in the bodies of the fallen, and then ordered the others to withdraw within the camp itself, and hold themselves in readiness for a sudden call. Meanwhile they were told to do their utmost to quiet the frightened women and children, the latter still vocally expressing their terror.

It was soon learned that five of the whites had fallen. Their bodies were hastily borne within the protecting circle of the camp and two men who had been wounded were at once cared for.

Peleg, whose excitement during the short, sharp fight had been intense, now recalled that he had not seen young Boone since his comrades had returned. Without voicing his fears he made a hasty tour of the camp, searching in every conceivable place for his friend.

When at last the young hunter was convinced that James was nowhere to be found among the emigrants, he ran to Daniel Boone himself and said, "Have you seen James anywhere?"

"No," replied the scout, glancing keenly at the young hunter. "Was he not with you?"

"We were together until we heard the 'turkeys' gobbling. Then he followed the sound of one and I went after the other. When I came near the place I saw it was a warrior trying to decoy us."

"And James was not with you?"

"No, sir."

"Did you call to him?"

"No, sir. I shot the redskin and then started for the camp as fast as I could go. Sam Oliver came with me, and if it had not been for our alarm I am afraid the redskins would have done more damage than they did."

The leader was silent as he gazed into the surrounding forest. He was well aware that the woods might conceal many more hostile Indians than had appeared in the sudden attack upon the camp. That he was deeply troubled by the message Peleg had brought him was manifest. Had his enemies already killed his son or had they made him a prisoner? What had become of James?

"Do you think they have taken him?" inquired Peleg in a low voice.

"That is what I hope," replied Daniel Boone; and then in response to the unspoken question of the young hunter he added: "If they have made him prisoner we may be able to get him again, but if they have not----"

What the pioneer scout left unsaid was fully understood by Peleg, whose face became pale as he saw the anxiety of the leader for his boy.

"A man must do his best, and it is useless to rebel," said Daniel Boone, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "If James has fallen, all that we may try to do will be useless. If he has escaped, he will not need all our help. If the Shawnees have made him their prisoner, then we shall do more to help him by quick action than in any other way."

Turning from the women, who were weeping over the bodies of the dead men that had been brought back to the camp, in a few words Daniel Boone related to his companions what Peleg had told him. A band of twenty or more was speedily formed, every one eager to join in the search for the missing boy.

"Peleg," inquired the scout just before the men departed from the camp, "do you think you can lead the way to the place where you and James heard the 'turkey'?"

"Yes, sir," replied Peleg.

"Then let us start at once."

No man in the band was without fear when they entered the forest lest he might be the target of some concealed Indian. And yet the little force was relying upon the very boldness of their venture for its success.

There was no trace of fright, however, when the men ran across the open s.p.a.ce and followed Daniel Boone as he led the way in the direction indicated by Peleg, who was close behind him.

In a brief time the party came to the place where Peleg had shot the Indian that had been imitating the gobble of a turkey. There was no delay, however, and as soon as Boone was convinced that the red man was dead he turned with his companions in the direction in which the other "turkey" had been heard.

As yet not a sign of the presence of their enemy had been discovered, although every one was aware that dark eyes were doubtless watching their every movement. Why they had not been fired upon was as yet not understood.

In a few minutes, however, these things were forgotten when Peleg led the way to the place toward which his young companion had gone to seek the "turkey" which had so noisily announced its presence.

A low exclamation escaped the young hunter's lips when he and the leader halted a few minutes later and saw upon the ground before them the prostrate body of the missing boy.

CHAPTER V

PELEG'S NEW PLACE

Not a word escaped Daniel Boone's lips at the gruesome discovery of the body of his oldest son. He ran quickly forward, turned the body so that the face could be seen, and in this manner instantly realized the terrible fate which had overtaken James.

Peleg Barnes, who was close behind him, never was able to forget the sound of the one long, dry sob to which Daniel Boone gave utterance.

Then, almost as if he still was unaware of the presence of any one except the dead boy, he lifted the body tenderly, and with exceeding care placed it across his shoulders. Then, turning about, the great scout started back toward the camp.

For a moment the other members of the party stood silent as they watched their suffering leader. There was not one of the men who would not have been glad to express his sympathy in words, but they were all aware of Daniel Boone's prejudices against giving full expression to one's feelings; and they had not yet recovered from the staggering surprise which the discovery of the body of James had created.

When Daniel Boone disappeared in the brush, Sam Oliver ran to the spot where this discovery had been made and, picking up the gun of James, turned to his companions and said: "We must follow him. We must keep close to him. The redskins might almost scalp him and he would not understand what they are doing, the way he feels now."

Acting upon this suggestion, the men all turned to follow the direction in which their leader had disappeared. Peleg had run in advance of the other members of the band, eager to help the scout in his task. Quietly the leader shook his head, but did not speak in response to the young hunter's offer to aid. Apparently he was hardly aware that his friends were so near him.

Without delay the party soon gained the open s.p.a.ce in front of the camp.

There Daniel Boone stopped, and, turning to his friends, whose presence apparently neither surprised nor startled him, said: "I shall take my boy to the place where the other bodies are lying. I desire you to say nothing of what has befallen him until first I shall break the news to my wife."