Before breakfast had been prepared Peleg was aware of a certain partly suppressed excitement among the members of the band. The women, with tears in their eyes and with their children clinging to their skirts, frequently had been in conference with Daniel Boone or with other men of the party.

It was therefore not without some previous intimation that Peleg heard the scout summon the men to a new conference.

As soon as they were assembled Boone said, "It will not be possible for us to proceed at this time."

"Why not?" demanded Sam Oliver.

"The women are terror-stricken. I myself had not thought that we should so soon be attacked by the savages. I have reason to remember our stay on Cumberland Mountain——" For a moment the scout was silent, and an expression of sympathy ran through the entire assembly. Once more in control of his feelings, Boone continued: "It is not for myself, as you know, that I am asking this return. It is useless, however, now to go on with such fear among our womenfolk, and the redskins opposing us more strongly the farther we go into Kantuckee."

"Where can we go?" inquired one of the assembly.

"I have decided that our best plan is to return to the settlement on the Clinch River."

"How far is that from here?" asked the inquirer.

"About forty miles."

"I am not one to favour return just because we have been unfortunate——"

"There is no question," said Daniel Boone, his eyes flashing in spite of the quiet manner of his speech, "about what we shall do. We shall make our plans to return at once."

Whatever feeling of rebellion may have been aroused in the minds of some of his followers, the decision of the leader was not to be disputed. The confidence of every one in his courage, integrity, and judgment was so strong that no one at the time would have dared oppose the great scout.

Accordingly, hasty preparations were made for the return of the entire band, and within an hour the emigrants were on their way.

The same order was maintained which previously had been used. An advance party of five and three rear guards were formed, but now the scout had in addition a small body moving on each flank, parallel with the main body.

With the departure, renewed confidence came to all. As the band withdrew further from Cumberland Mountain their spirits in a measure revived, and when on the third day they arrived at the little settlement which they were seeking on the Clinch River, even the tragedy which had befallen them was seldom mentioned. Even the packhorses pricked up their ears and required no incentive to induce them to move rapidly down the mountainside.

When the emigrants at last arrived at their destination it was found necessary to erect several new houses. The nights already were cool, and a snowfall might be expected at any time. Even Sam Oliver, who seldom assisted in the labours of the settlements, was induced to aid his companions in felling the trees and cutting the logs for the little houses which must be the sole protection of the people throughout the coming winter.

Not many weeks after the return of Daniel Boone and his party, Schoolmaster Hargrave found his way into the settlement. He was a peculiar man in his appearance, exceedingly awkward and angular, a fact which was made more marked by the odd clothing he wore. Disdaining garments made from the skins of wild beasts, his clothes were of woollen material, and made, too, after a fashion that in itself was fearful and wonderful to behold. Even his cocked hat did not become him, but in some way seemed to make more prominent his long nose, which was covered with splotches of red, as were also his cheeks. That he was earnest and deeply interested in his tasks no one denied. The prime qualification for the work of the schoolmaster in that day, however, consisted in the fact that he was very muscular and able to compel the obedience of even the oldest boys in his school, who frequently were tempted to pit their strength against his.

At the suggestion of the scout, a schoolhouse of logs was erected soon after the coming of Master Hargrave. In this little schoolhouse there was a fireplace, or chimney, which extended nearly across one entire end of the building. When a huge log fire was burning there it sent out not only its genial heat, but at frequent intervals with the changing winds it drew clouds of smoke down the chimney and into the eyes of the children that were seated on the rude benches. The little building was equipped with more windows than the cabins which had been built for dwellings. The windowpanes were of paper and made transparent by oiling or greasing them.

Young Daniel Morgan Boone, the third son of Daniel, became a constant companion of Peleg in the days that followed the return of the emigrants. Daniel had begun to attend school as soon as the rude little building was erected, and many of his experiences with the awkward schoolmaster were gleefully related to Peleg, who now was no longer counted a pupil of the master.

"Master Hargrave," said Daniel one day, "makes us learn many verses of Scripture."

"Does he?" inquired Peleg.

"Indeed he does. To-day he gave us three: 'The rod and rule give wisdom,' 'A rod fits a fool's back,' and 'He that spoils the rod is not wise.'"

Peleg laughed and said: "I remember those verses myself. He taught them to me. Does he rap your knuckles with his ferrule?"

"Sometimes he uses a ferrule, but more often he stands there by one of the windows making a pen, and out of the corners of his eyes watches every one of the eighteen scholars. He always has a stout hickory in his hand or under his arm. The other day there was a disturbance on one of the benches, and without waiting to find who was guilty he laid his hickory across the backs of every one of us."

"So you have your share, too, do you?"

"Indeed I do. But the strangest part was day before yesterday, when Schoolmaster Hargrave chased Return Sharp. Return would rather go fishing or swimming or hunting any day than go to school. He says he does not care for learning."

"He is a stout, burly fellow. I suppose a beating does not trouble him much?"

"That's the strange part of it," laughed Daniel gleefully. "He doesn't seem to mind one at all. The other afternoon when the boys had been called in from recess, Return ducked around the corner of the house and began to run. Master Hargrave spied him, and, spitting on both his hands, he grasped his hickory and sallied forth to catch him. Return saw him coming and took to his heels. Every one in the school was out there in front of the schoolhouse watching the sport. We were ready to dodge back into our seats, but we wanted to see the race."

"What did he do? Did the master get him?"

"Return took a circuit and started for the meadow, and in a little while he was of course coming back toward the schoolhouse. Master Hargrave was gaining upon him at every jump, and just as Return cleared the fence Master Hargrave let him have it with the hickory. For once in his life Return made haste, I can tell you. He was not very long in reaching the ground from the top of that fence! The schoolmaster was on the other side, and as he saw that all the scholars were watching him he jumped over the fence and started after Return faster than ever. I would not have believed that he could run so fast. Return looked back to see how near the schoolmaster was, and just then he stumbled and fell, and Master Hargrave was so close behind that he, too, stumbled over Return and then tumbled to the ground. Return jumped up and took a back track, but the Master was after him in a minute, and before he got halfway to the schoolhouse he had caught up with him, and at every jump the master also let him have it with the hickory. Return got the last love pat just as he tumbled over the fence and crawled into the schoolhouse. We all thought when the master came in that he would use his hickory on Return plentifully, and also on all the rest of us; but for some strange reason he seemed to have given Return all that he had to spare that day. Strange how he seems to take delight in beating poor Return."

"He always took his whaling like an ox," laughed Peleg, "and grows fat on it every day. I have marks yet on my knuckles that the schoolmaster gave me."

"What are you doing?" demanded Daniel, apparently for the first time becoming aware of Peleg's occupation.

"I am making a new stock for this rifle-barrel."

"The gun looks like it might kick," commented Daniel sagely, looking critically at the rifle-barrel which was lying upon the rude little bench at which Peleg was working.

"It would if a boy like you should try to use it."

Daniel laughed derisively and said: "Pray, Mr. Venerable Barnes, how long since you were a boy yourself?"

"If you think you can fire this gun, I shall let you be the first one to try it. I have it almost ready now, and all I have to do is to fit the barrel into the stock——"

"Hello!" called Daniel, looking up sharply as he became aware of the approach of a man on horseback. "This is some stranger. I wonder what he can be wanting."

A visitor from any of the faraway settlements was a matter of moment, and Peleg advanced to the door to see who the newcomer might be.

The man was a stranger to both boys. As soon as he spied the lads he said, "Is Daniel Boone in this settlement?"

"He is, sir," answered Peleg promptly.

"Where can I find him? I would have word with him."

"Daniel, do you tell your father there is a gentleman here who desires to speak to him."

"I am a messenger," spoke up the stranger, "a courier from Governor Dunmore. 'Tis a matter of importance, and Mr. Daniel Boone will do well to report promptly."

Peleg looked at the messenger, who was not much older than he. His air of importance was not lost upon the young settler, who laughed slightly when, after Daniel's departure in search of his father, he turned again to the visitor.

"It is a great honour I have for Daniel Boone," suggested the courier.

"That depends somewhat, I fancy, upon who you are and what you have to bring him."

"I have told you already that I am a messenger from Governor Dunmore. It is meet in you, young man, to respect men who are high in authority."

"I do respect the Governor," said Peleg dryly.

"Then you should have respect for the Governor's messenger."

"I have respect for all who are respectable."

"What mean you by that?" demanded the visitor hotly; as he spoke he leaped from the seat on the back of his horse and advanced threateningly upon Peleg.

His attitude changed, however, when Peleg quietly stood his ground and even slightly smiled at the pompous words and manner of the visitor.

The return of young Daniel Boone interrupted the interview.

"My father will be pleased to see you," said the lad, glancing questioningly first at Peleg and then at the messenger.

"Of course he will see me," declared the courier. "Why did he not return with you?"

"He is awaiting your coming and bade me conduct you to our home."

"Is it far from here?"

"No, sir"

"Very good. I shall be pleased to go with you and give my message to Daniel Boone."

Peleg was an interested observer of the departing visitor, and his interest would have been still keener had he known how much the message from Governor Dunmore concerned his own future.