Several weeks elapsed before the schoolmaster recovered sufficiently from his wounds to enable him to resume his task.

It was now March, 1775, and Daniel Boone had returned to the settlement on the Clinch. The task which Governor Dunmore had assigned him had been accomplished. He found Peleg and the members of his family engaged in their preparations for the spring work.

At the close of the first day after his homecoming, the great scout once more had an interview with Peleg. "I have just come from Watage," he explained when no one was near, "where there has been an assembly of the Cherokees. I went at the request of a gentleman named Henderson, who is acting for several other men as well as for himself. He desired me to represent him in the purchase of land south of the river of Kantuckee. I did as he requested, and arrangements for the purchase of all the land as far as the Tennessee River were completed."

"Why did Mr. Henderson——"

"Colonel Henderson," broke in the scout; "Colonel Richard Henderson."

"Why did Colonel Richard Henderson," repeated Peleg, "and the other gentlemen wish to purchase so much land?"

"Because they had learned of the fertility of the soil through the reports which my brother and I had given them. In a way I am to be their agent."

"Did the Cherokees sell to him?"

"They did. I fancy they were glad to part with an empty title for a solid though moderate recompense. Trouble arose, though, when Colonel Henderson and his friends prepared to take possession, relying upon the validity of the deed which the Indians had given them. Unfortunately, the land lies within the limits of Virginia, according to the old charter which King James gave, and I understand that the Virginians are claiming for themselves the privilege of purchasing the title to all land which the Indians held within the limits of their state. Already the treaty of Colonel Henderson has been pronounced null and void as far as he is concerned, but the Virginians declare that the title given by the Cherokees is valid, and that they will assume the rights. That is a very peculiar method of dealing, according to my light. But 'tis not concerning that, lad, that I would speak to you to-day."

The scout was silent a moment, and Peleg, interested far more than his quiet manner betrayed, looked eagerly into the face of his friend, waiting for him to explain.

"I agreed," resumed Boone, "to take a band of men with me and mark out or clear a road to this region in Kantuckee."

"A road?" asked Peleg in surprise.

"Yes, a road over which packhorses and wagons can be driven. It will require patience and much labour, but the reward will be great. Whenever I think of that marvellous country and of the possibilities contained in it for families like my own, I am eager to open the way to it. I am authorized by Colonel Henderson to say that he will pay thirty-three cents per day to every man whom I may select to be of our company."

"When do we go?" inquired Peleg eagerly.

"On the day after to-morrow. How is Singing Susan?" inquired Boone with a smile.

"She is doing famously. I have gained a reputation in the settlement for being a better shot than I would be warranted in claiming to be, unless I had the song of Susan to help me."

"That is good," said Boone cordially. "Now if you can secure an axe that will render you as efficient service in its way as Singing Susan does in hers, you will be well equipped for our expedition. It is important that we make haste, if the way is to be opened in time for settlers to sow any crops this spring."

Hard as it was for Daniel Boone to leave his family again in charge of Israel and Samuel, nevertheless his strong feeling that he was simply an instrument being used to further the advance of the rapidly growing nation in the American colonies was sufficient to induce him to accept this task. In addition, his wife shared the same conviction. She, too, was eager for him to continue his labours, and in spite of the anxiety she would suffer during his absence, she urged him to accept the offer which Colonel Henderson had made.

At the appointed time a band of twenty-five men, every one fully armed and all equipped with axes, departed from the settlement on the Clinch. Confidence in their leader and the hope that not only would they be able to open a way into the marvellous land, but that their own families also might share in the reward, made all the men eager to go. It was not believed that the task would require many weeks, but the necessity of preparing the soil and planting some crops before the summer came was an inducement for haste.

There were places where trees had to be felled, and the ringing of the axes was heard all the day long. In other regions, however, very little labour was required, because the road, as it was selected, led in its winding course around many open ledges and through sparsely wooded passes of the hills and mountains.

Nearly three weeks passed and the hardy band of hunters and woodsmen was drawing near the region which they were seeking. They had not been molested by the Indians, and were beginning to congratulate themselves that they were to escape the perils which every day threatened them.

Without warning, one day, however, above the ringing of the axes were heard the wild cries of the red men. Darting from the woods, shouting and brandishing their guns and hatchets, the Indians suddenly appeared. Dodging from tree to tree and firing upon the startled white men, they seemed to be on all sides at once.

Instantly the coolness and courage of Daniel Boone became invaluable. Though many of his comrades had been surprised and terrified by the sudden onslaught, the great scout had held himself prepared for the present emergency.

"Run for the trees!" shouted Boone. "Run! Hold your fire until you gain cover and then give the rascals your best!" As Boone looked out from his own shelter after his rifle had been discharged, he saw several of his companions lying dead or wounded upon the ground.

Calmly yet swiftly Boone darted from the protection of the forest, and lifting one of the men in his arms bore him back within shelter.

The example of the leader, mindful of the needs of others in the hour of his own peril, inspired his companions to similar action, and, in the midst of all the turmoil and danger, the other wounded men were rescued. It soon was discovered, however, that three of the fallen men were already dead.

The temporary withdrawal of the warriors to the forest left the field free once more, and Boone turned to his companions and said, "Come with me, every one!"

Instantly his followers responded, and, dashing to the place where their companions had fallen, they bore the bodies back to a place of safety, thankful to find that they had not yet been mutilated.

There was no time for ceremony or for lamentations, and the three who had fallen to rise no more were hastily buried in one grave by their comrades.

The unexpected attack, following as it had the long days of quiet, was seriously disturbing to the roadmakers. That evening there were no camp-fires, and guards were established to watch through the night.

When morning came the alarm had not been repeated, and many were persuaded that the assault of the previous day was merely the act of a desperate band which had attacked the settlers without any preconceived plan. Nevertheless Daniel Boone declared that it was necessary to maintain a guard throughout the day.

The labour was entered into with zeal, and though a renewal of the attack was not made, thoughts of the new peril were in the minds of every man, and made all serious. At the request of his followers Boone devoted most of his time to scouting in the nearby region, a duty which he insisted upon sharing with his younger companion, Peleg.

The sun had dropped below the borders of the forest, and the men were congratulating themselves that the day had passed without a renewal of hostilities, when suddenly both scouts were seen running swiftly toward the place where the men had encamped for the night.

This startling sight was sufficient to arouse every member of the party. Every man seized his gun and ran for the shelter of some huge tree.

Boone was wildly gesticulating as he drew near, but his gestures were misunderstood by his friends. Before either scout was able to regain the place where the pioneers were hiding, there was another wild whoop and a band of Indians larger than that which had been seen the previous day darted from the woods in the rear of the settlers. Before they were able to return the unlooked-for fire, two of their number fell dead from the bullets of their enemies, while three more were wounded.

Like a flash the Indians were gone again. But Boone quickly rallied his startled followers and when the red men returned, as they did within a few minutes, appearing from another section of the forest, the hardy settlers were ready and awaiting their coming.

Once more had the careful preparation of Boone for what he thought was likely to occur saved his followers and himself from peril.

Several of the Indians fell under the deadly fire of the white men, and with loud cries and lamentations the warriors dragged their fallen comrades into the forest and once more disappeared.

"Never have I seen the Indians so savage as in these two attacks," said Boone soberly to Peleg, after guards had been established for the night and the men had stretched themselves on their blankets to obtain such sleep as was possible in the midst of the threatening dangers. "They seem almost beside themselves with rage."

"Do you still plan to go on?"

"I shall go on," said Boone simply. "The way must be opened for our people to gain some of the advantages of this wonderful region toward which we are moving. The tribes hereabout are a strange people. I have never known Indians more hospitable than are the Cherokees and Shawnees. If one brave enters the wigwam of another, even if it be that of a stranger, he is deeply offended if he is not given an invitation to eat, though he may just have had a meal at his own wigwam. Nor is it sufficient on these occasions that the ordinary food be offered him. You know the Indians live mostly on venison and hominy, but when a visitor comes, sugar, bear's oil, honey, and rum, if they have it, are to be set before him."

"Suppose they do not have anything in the house to eat?"

"Then the fact is stated quietly. It is at once accepted as sufficient. I was in a wigwam not long ago where the visitor thought the host was not as hospitable as he ought to be and he took him severely to task. He said: 'You have behaved just like a Dutchman. I shall excuse you this time, for you are young, and have been brought up close to the white people, but you must remember to behave like a warrior and never be caught in such little actions. Great actions alone can ever make a great man.' They are a strange people," added Boone thoughtfully. "I saw a white man some time ago trying to help in carrying some game which the warriors had shot. I shall never forget how the Indians laughed when, after the squaws and the boys had started to bring back the meat, this white man took a large piece of buffalo meat on his own back. After he had gone two or three miles he found it was becoming too heavy for him and he threw it down. Then I saw one of the squaws, laughing as if it was a huge joke, take the meat which the white man had dropped and put it on her own pack, which already was as large as that of the man, and carry the double burden back to camp."

"They are not as swift as our men, though," suggested Peleg.

"Not for a short distance," assented Boone, "but they can keep up a pace for an almost incredible length of time. I have known Indians who could run twelve or fourteen hours without a morsel of food, and then, after a light meal and a short rest, start again and go as far as they had before they stopped."

"They never do that in fighting, though."

"No, they may keep up a warfare for many years, but they never make a prolonged attack. They like a sudden dash such as they made upon us and in which those poor fellows were killed. Peleg, I fear the morrow. The Shawnees that are watching us see our axes, and they are sure now that we are trying to enter their hunting grounds and take away their lands. We shall have serious trouble, I fear."

And the following day Boone's fears were confirmed.