xt7s4m918v3m https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7s4m918v3m/data/mets.xml McIntyre, John Thomas, 1871-1951 1917  books b92fm1894i19172009 English The Penn Publishing Company : Philadelphia, Pa. Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Boone, Daniel, 1734-1820 --Fiction In Kentucky with Daniel Boone, by John T. McIntyre; illustrations by Ralph L. Boyer and A. Edwin Kromer. text In Kentucky with Daniel Boone, by John T. McIntyre; illustrations by Ralph L. Boyer and A. Edwin Kromer. 1917 2009 true xt7s4m918v3m section xt7s4m918v3m 



- O

   in kentucky


Daniel Boone



Illustrations by

Ralph L. Boyer and A. Edwin Kromer

   copyright 19 13 by the penn publishing company 

I.	Ths Gray Lizard Speaks	7

II.	A Coming Struggle	18

III.	Daniel Boone, Marksman	33

IV.	In the Wilderness ....	61

V.	Captured by the Shawnees	70

VI.	Boone in the Wilderness	93

VII.	Attacked!.....	105

VIII.	The Three Boys Ride On a Mission	114

IX.	Defending a Log Cabin .	125

X.	A Night Experience	139

XI.	The Battle of Point Pleasant	H7

XII.	The Fort at Boonesborough .	164

XIII.	Conclusion .....	*74

XIV.	Sketch of Boone's Ljfe .	185

   In Kentucky With Daniel Boone


the gray lizard speaks

Along the trail which wound along the banks of the Yadkin, in North Carolina, rode a tall, sinewy man ; he had a bronzed, resolute face, wore the hunting shirt, leg-gins and moccasins of the backwoods, and had hanging from one shoulder a long flint-locked rifle. A small buck, which this unerring weapon of the hunter had lately brought down, lay across his saddle bow.   It was in the spring of 1769.

Away along the trail, at a place where the river bent sharply, a cloud of dust arose


in the trail; and as the hunter rode forward he kept his keen eyes upon this.

" Horsemen," he told himself. " Two of them, I reckon, judging from the dust."

Nearer and nearer rolled the cloud; at length the riders within it could be seen. One was a middle-aged man who rode a powerful black horse; the other was a boy of perhaps thirteen whose mount was a long-legged young horse, with a wild eye and ears that were never still.

Catching sight of the hunter, the man on the big black drew rein.

" What, Daniel! " cried he.  " Well met! "

"How are you, Colonel Henderson?" replied the backwoodsman. " I didn't calculate on seeing you to-day."

" I rode over for the express purpose of

having a talk with you," said Colonel

Henderson.   " I was at your house, but

they told me you'd gone away early this

morning to try for some game."

The hunter glanced down at the buck 8 

across his saddle. There was a discontented frown upon his brow.

"Yes, gone since early morning," he said. " And this is all I got. The hunting ain't so good in the Yadkin country as it was once. As a boy I've stood in the door of my father's cabin and brought down deer big enough to be this one's granddaddy."

The boy on the long-legged horse bounced up and down in his saddle at this ; the nag felt his excitement and began to rear and plunge.

" Steady, boy, steady," said Colonel Henderson.   "Hold him in."

"It's all right, uncle," replied the lad. " He don't mean anything by it." Then to the hunter, as his mount became quiet: " That was good shooting, Mr. Boone, wasn't it? And," pointing to the carcass of the buck, "so was that. Right behind the left shoulder; and it left hardly a mark on him."

Daniel Boone smiled.


" I always treat my old rifle well," said he, humorously. " And she never goes back on me."

" Some time ago I had a talk with John Finley," said Colonel Henderson. " He told me wonderful tales of the hunting country beyond the Laurel Ridge." 1

Daniel Boone's eyes went toward the northwest where the great mountain chain reared its peaks toward the sky until they were enveloped in a blue mist.

" Beyond the Laurel Ridge," said he, " there is a country such as no man has ever seen before. Such hills and valleys, such forests and streams and plains can only be in one place in the world. And there are deer and bear and fur animals; and buffalo cover the plains. Also," and a grim look came into his face, " there are redskins ! "

There was a short silence ; Colonel Henderson looked at the backwoodsman very thoughtfully.

1 Cumberland Mountains. 

" For some time," said he, " it has seemed to me that these settlements are not what they should be. The laws enforced by the British governor Tryon, have sown discontent among the people. New emigrants go to other places where there are better laws and less taxes."

Daniel Boone nodded.

" Tax gatherers, magistrates, lawyers and such like live like aristocrats," said he, " and the farmers and other settlers are asked to support them. We are here in the settlements, it seems, for no other purpose than to give these fellows a soft living. And they take our money and treat us like servants. A peddler who hucksters among the Indians is thought a better man than the one who has cut a form out of the wilderness with his axe."

There was a bitterness in the man's tone which seemed to please the other.

" There are a great many who feel just

as you do about it," said he.   " And it was


this very thing that I rode over to speak about."

Daniel Boone shook his head.

" Signing writings and sending them to Tryon will do no good," said he. " He's a tyrant and understands nothing but oppression." Then in a longing tone, his eyes on the distant hills, " I wish I were away from the Yadkin for good and all. No man can be free here as long as we have public officers who think of nothing but plunder."

" As I said before," said Colonel Henderson, in a satisfied tone,    " there are a great many others who are of the same way of thinking as you. But they have nowhere to go; if a new country was opened for them, they would sell their farms, pack their goods upon their horses' backs and be gone."

There was something in the speaker's tone that took the attention of the backwoodsman.    His  keen  eyes studied 

Colonel Henderson's face; but he said nothing.

" Ever since I heard Finley talk of the country beyond the ridge," said the colonel, resuming after a moment, " I've felt that such a rare region should be opened up for settlement."

" Right 1" cried Daniel Boone and his eyes began to glow.

" But," said the colonel, " I've also felt that it should not be done until the country was explored further   until it had been penetrated to its interior, until its streams were worked out on a chart, a trail made for the passage of emigrants and the most promising places fixed upon for settlements."

" Right again," said Daniel Boone. " I've been in the country and so have Finley and some others; but none of us has studied it. To do that would take a year or more ; and to live a year so far from the settlements a man would have to make up his mind to troubles from the Indians."


" The Shawnees claim it," said the colonel. " If it is what I want, I will buy it from them."

"It's a hunting ground for Cherokees, Shawnees and Chickasaws," said Boone, and he shook his head as he spoke. " So far as I could see, it belonged to all of them. And it's a fighting place ; when two hunting parties meet, the hatchet, knife and arrow begin their work."

Once more the colonel regarded the backwoodsman attentively.

" I never knew the prospect of danger or hard work to hold you back in anything you wanted to do," he said.

Boone laughed.

" I've always tried not to let them, I reckon," said he.

" This fall," and the colonel spoke slowly, " I am going to send an exploring party into the northwest country; and later, if it's what I think it is, I'll want a party of trail makers and a man to treat with the


Shawnees. How would you like to take charge of this matter for me ? "

For a moment Boone sat his horse, staring at the speaker.

" You mean it? " he said, at last.

" I do."

The backwoodsman held out a strong brown hand ; Colonel Henderson gripped it.

" I'm with you," said Boone, in a tone of deep satisfaction. " It's a thing I've been sort of dreaming of for years. That great region, now given over to the Indian hunters and wild beasts, is calling the white man. I heard its voice as I stood among the lonely hills, in the forests, and upon the banks of its rivers. Once there with their families, their plows and their horses, their cabins built, the settler will meet-"

" Death 1" said a strange voice ; and, startled, both Boone and Colonel Henderson turned their eyes in the direction from which it came.

An Indian stood there   =an ancient sav-i5 

age, clad in skins upon which were painted queer symbols. Strings of amulets, bears' claws and the teeth of foxes and wolves hung about him; his face was lined with the deep wrinkles of great age, his eyes were small, black, and glittered coldly like those of a snake.

" What, Gray Lizard ! " said Boone, in surprise.   " Are you here?"

The old Indian advanced a step or two, supporting himself by a long staff. Keenly the serpent eyes gazed at the three whites.

" Death will meet the paleface," said he. " He will never build his lodge in the country beyond the mountains. Let him once pass the great gap, and he is no more."

Boone laughed.

" I've been through the gap, Gray Lizard," he said, good-naturedly; " and so have other white men.   And we still live."

The cold eyes fixed themselves upon the

resolute face; one skinny finger was lifted

until it pointed at Boone's breast.


" You have," said Gray Lizard. " You have, and you are marked. Let your rifle once more break the silence of the hills or ring over the waters of the red man's rivers, and your death song is sung."

Then he turned to Colonel Henderson, and continued :

" And you, white chief, take care 1 The Gray Lizard has known these many moons of what you mean to do, and now he warns you. If you love your friends, do not send them beyond the Laurel Ridge. For in the wilderness their fate awaits them at the hands of the Shawnees."

He turned and was about to go ; then he paused, and added :

" The Gray Lizard is old. He has seen many things. He knew the Yadkin when the white man was a stranger on its banks. Take warning by his words: do not venture beyond the blue hills."

Then, his long staff ringing on the stones, he went limping down the trail. 

a coming struggle

As the strange figure of the old Cherokee went halting along the river trail, the eyes of Boone and his companions followed curiously.

" A queer sort of customer," commented Colonel Henderson. " I don't recall ever having seen him before."

" He's a wonder worker and medicine man," said Boone. " And he spends a good bit of his time on the fringe of the settlements. Sometimes," and here a frown came upon his brow, " I've thought him more of a spy than anything else."

" At any rate he knows how to creep up

on one secretly," said the colonel, with a

laugh.   And then, more soberly : " And he

seemed rather earnest in his sayings."


Daniel Boone nodded his head.

" All these old redskins are crafty," said he. " They spend their days and nights finding out ways of imposing on their fellow savages. And managing to do this without trouble they think they can impose in the same way upon the1 white man."

" I see," said Colonel Henderson.

" If they can put fear in the hearts of the whites," continued Boone, " the whites will not venture into the wilderness. A settler killed now and then is the common way ; but there are others, and I've heard a warning spoken by a prophet hung with totems before to-day."

The boy who had been staring after the figure of Gray Lizard now spoke.

" I've been wondering where I saw him before, and now I've remembered, Uncle Dick," said he. " Yesterday I rode up the river to visit the camp of the young braves who are to take part in the games. It was there I saw him; among the lodges."


" Ah !" said Boone; " and so the braves have come in for the games, eh ? "

" More than a score of them," replied the lad. " And a fine looking lot they are, sir," with admiration.

The backwoodsman nodded.

" They are sure to be," said he, grimly. " The redskins seldom send any but the pick of their villages."

" It's been three days since they pitched their camp," said the lad. " And they've been hard at work ever since, practicing with their bows and rifles, and throwing their hatchets at marks. There's a good runner or two among them," added the boy ; " and they have some fine horses."

" I've always been against these games," said Daniel Boone, as he shook his head.

Colonel Henderson looked at him in surprise.

" Why," said he, " how is that ? Athletic games always seemed to me to be good for the youngsters."


" So they are," agreed Boone. " Mighty good. But these of ours are a mistake, because the lads don't put enough heart in 'em.   They don't take 'em serious enough."

The colonel smiled.

" It's all in the spirit of fun," said he.

But Boone shook his head.

" That's where you're wrong, colonel," said he, " and that's where the boys are also wrong. There ain't many of us whites on this border ; but over beyond the Laurel Ridge the Indians lie in clouds. And that they haven't blotted us out long since is because away down in their hearts they've thought we're better'n they are, for we've always showed we could give them odds and beat them at anything they cared to do,"

" And now, you think-"

" Our young men are letting them pull

out ahead too often ; and that's not a good

thing to have happen.   Once let the red

man get the notion that he's better than the

white, and this border'll be turned into a


wilderness   there won't be a settlement but won't feel the tomahawk and the torch. The white man will be turned back from the west for twenty years to come."

" I see." Colonel Henderson looked thoughtful. " I never thought of that, Daniel; and now that you put it before me I can see that you are right."

The boy had listened to what the backwoodsman had to say with much attention. Now he spoke.

" Eph Taylor was along when I rode up to the Shawnee camp yesterday," said he. " And as we went he told me how the young braves crowed over them last fall, and how they promised to beat them even worse this year. And when we got to the camp all the young warriors grinned at us and talked a lot among themselves. Eph knows some of their language and said it was all about us, and about the games and how they were going to run away from us in everything we tried."


Boone looked at Henderson and nodded, grimly.

" Do you see ? " said he. " That's how it will begin. Five years from now these same young redskins will have a voice in the councils of their tribe. Let them carry this feeling of being better than us into those councils, and nothing will hold them back from a bloody war."

"Well, Noll," said Colonel Henderson to his nephew, " you see what you've got before you."

The tone was half laughing; but when Oliver Barclay made reply it was with all the seriousness in the world.

" Eph and I talked about it as we rode back home," said he. " And we made up our minds to give them a hard fight for each match as it came along. Eph and I are to arrange everything to-day; that's why I am riding over to see him."

"Well," said Colonel Henderson, "I suppose you may as well go on if that's


what you are about.   I have some business to talk over with Mr. Boone, and will ride back to his farm with him.   Will you be home to-night ? " Noll shook his head.

"I don't think so," he replied. Then with a laugh: " When I get down to plotting with Eph Taylor there's no telling when I'll get through."

He shook the rein, and the long-legged young horse brandished its heels in most exuberant fashion. The boy waved his hand to the two men.

"Good-bye," said he. Then to Boone, " Going to be at the games to-morrow, Mr. Boone ? "

" Maybe," said the backwoodsman.

" Come along," suggested Noll. " Maybe something'll happen that'll please you."

Boone looked at the strong young figure

sitting the fiery horse so easily, the clear

eyes, the confident smile.   And his bronzed

face wrinkled in a laugh of pleasure.



"Well, Noll," said he, "I'll go. But mind you this : I'll expect something more than I saw a year ago."

" I can promise you that, anyhow," said the boy. "And maybe there'll be more. Good-bye."

And with that he rode forward along the river trail, while Daniel Boone and Colonel Henderson turned their horses' heads in the opposite direction. A mile further on Noll overtook Gray Lizard plodding on with the help of his long staff. The magician gave the boy a sidelong glance as he passed ; but Noll did not check the lope of his horse, pushing on until he reached a place where a second trail branched away from the river, winding among the huge forest trees and losing itself in the billowing ocean of foliage.

He struck into this, and after an hour's riding came in sight of a well-built log house, surrounded by broad fields, from which the crops had lately been harvested.


Before the cabin door sat a tall, lank boy in a hunting shirt, busily engaged in cleaning a long flint-locked rifle. At the sound of the rapid hoof beats he looked up. Recognizing Oliver, who was still some distance off, he waved his hand in greeting ; then he turned his head and spoke to some one within the cabin.

Drawing rein before the door, young Barclay threw himself from the saddle.

" Well, Eph," said he, a3 he tied his mount to a post, " I suppose you all but gave up hope of me."

Eph Taylor had a long, droll looking face, and as he shook his head he twisted his countenance into an expression of comic denial.

" No," said he. " I reckoned you'd be along some time soon. This thing of ours was too important to let go by."

He rammed a greased cloth down the

barrel of the rifle, and twisting it about,

withdrew it once more.


" I saw Sandy," added he.

At this Noll Barclay was all eagerness.

" Did you ! " exclaimed he. " And what did he say ?"

" Suppose I let him speak for himself," said Eph, with the same comical twist to his long face. " He came over this afternoon to talk things over with us. Ho ! Sandy!   Can you come here for a little?"

A short, tow-haired youth appeared at the door of the cabin; he carried a halter in one hand and a brad-awl in the other. He nodded to Oliver good-humoredly.

" Glad to see you again," said he. " How are you ? "

His accent was broadly Scotch, and there was a round-bodied heartiness to him which at once inspired good will.

" I'm in right good health," said Oliver. " And I'm glad enough to see you, Sandy."

Sandy Campbell laughed.   He placed a

strap of the halter against the door frame

and punctured it with the awl.


" I was mighty taken with your notion," stated he. " And when I got done with my work, I rode over to hear more about it."

Oliver Barclay sat down upon a rough settle which stood beneath a cottonwood ; he looked at the other two boys with earnest eyes.

" What we talked over yesterday, Eph," said he, " seemed good reason enough for us to make an attempt to get the best of the Cherokees. But what I heard this afternoon puts a different face on it altogether."

Eph Taylor looked up from his rifle in surprise.

" You don't mean to say that you have changed your mind ! " said he.

Oliver shook his head.

" Not a bit of it," answered he. " Indeed, I'm firmer about it than ever. But to just make an attempt to best the Indians won't do now ; we must beat them ! "

Both Eph and Sandy looked at him inquiringly.


" You say you heard something," said Sandy Campbell.   " What was it ? "

" As I rode down the trail with my uncle," said Noll, " we met Mr. Boone."

The face of Eph Taylor took on an expression of interest.

" Oh, it was something he said, was it ? Well, then, I allow it was worth listening to, for Dan'l Boone always talks as the crow flies   in a straight line."

And then, while his two friends listened with great attention, Oliver repeated the words of the backwoodsman. When he had finished, Sandy nodded his head.

" It sounds much like the truth of the matter," said he.

" It is the truth ! " declared Eph, emphatically. " If we give these redskins a chance to crow over us in little things, they'll think they can do it in big things. Tomorrow we must take 'em in hand and give them a good thrashing   a regular good

one that they'll not forget in a hurry."


" I'm all ready for my part of it," grinned Sandy. " Or, at least I will be as soon as this halter's finished. That old Soldier horse couldn't have been better for the work if he'd been picked out of a hundred. He's got a back as wide as a floor ; and I've been practicing with him all summer, never thinking I'd have any use for it."

" It's lucky you did," spoke Eph. " And I reckon the things you do'll make the redskins open their eyes. As for me," and he fondled the long rifle lovingly, " I got old Jerusha here; and when she begins to talk I allow there won't be many Shawnees that'll use better language."

Oliver smiled and nodded.   To strangers

there would have been a boastful note in

the words of young Taylor ; but not to those

who knew him.   The boy was a wonderful

shot at all distances, but it never occurred

to him to take any personal credit for this.

Oddly enough he gave it all to his rifle.

" Nobody with half an eye could miss 30 

with her," he'd frequently declare. " She's the greatest old shooting iron ever made."

Oliver sat smiling and nodding at Eph's faith in his piece, and while he did so his eyes went to the spot where the long-legged young horse was tied. Sandy noticed the look and his glance also went in the same direction.

" The Hawk will do his share," said he with an air of expert judgment. " He has speed and bottom and in a long race he'll break the hearts of those Indian nags."

" Just like his master'll break the hearts of the Shawnees that'll run against him," spoke Eph Taylor, with confidence.

" I'm not so sure of that," said Oliver; and as he spoke a sound from across the fields toward the line of forest took their attention. The sinking sun glanced from the lithe bronze body of a young Indian who was running swiftly and low, like a hound. " There's the fellow I'm to fight it out against," added the white boy.   " And


any one who comes in ahead of him will have speed, indeed." Eph Taylor nodded.

"He's good," admitted he. "But I count on him, Injun like, only to use his legs in the race. To beat him, all you've got to do is to use your head as well."


daniel boone, marksman

Mounted upon his powerful bay horse, Daniel Boone the following day rode toward Holman's Ford. This point was some eight miles from Hillsboro, and it was here that the young men of the settlement met each fall for their hardy frontier games.

Keen-sighted youths, bearing long barrelled flint-locks, eagerly awaited this, the test of their skill; sturdy wrestlers burned to match their thews against each other; and the runners, both horse and man, were equally anxious to show their quality.

The sun had reached high noon when the backwoodsman reached the ford, dismounted and tied his nag to a tree. A long line of wagons, the horses tied to the wheels, stood on the river bank; the settlers


and their families were gathered beneath the trees. Apart from these were the athletes of farm and forest, well-grown boys and brawny young men; they stood about in knots and discussed the probabilities of each event. A smaller knot than any of the others stood at the foot of a huge cotton-wood ; a hail went up from this as Boone went by; and he paused as he recognized Oliver Barclay, Eph Taylor and Sandy Campbell.

" Well, youngsters," said the pioneer, " how is it going ? " Eph Taylor grinned.

" There ain't been much done yet, Mr. Boone," said he. " And even with the little we've gone through, we've had trouble with the redskins."

The eyes of Boone went to a cleared space among the trees where a number of lodges had been erected ; upon some skins, thrown upon the ground, lay a half score of keen-looking Shawnees.   To the trees near by


were fastened a number of rangy-looking horses.

" What's wrong ? " asked the backwoodsman.

"We've had the jumps," said Eph, " and none of the Indians entered for them. So Eben Clarke won 'em all. Then there was the throwing of the stone and big Sam Dut-ton put it further than any one else, by a good bit. The first thing the Shawnees took any interest in was the swim. It was across the river and back, to start at the word and all together. A slippery little redskin entered for that; he got into the water like a streak ; and he was a real good swimmer. George Collins was off in the front and the little Shawnee went by him like a fish. Then George began to stretch out and grab the water in armfuls and pull himself after him. But he never caught him till they got to the middle of the stream on the way back. Sandy here was in the race," and Eph grinned.   " He


thinks he's a swimmer, but he was still on the way over when George and the redskin were coming back. Just as George caught the Indian they both ran afoul of Sandy. And because George went ahead from that on and won the race the Shawnees say the whole consarned thing was a put up job to beat them out of the race."

" And it's not so," said Sandy, with indignation. " If I interfered with anybody it was with George Collins. I dived to get out of the Indian's way when I saw him coming and I went straight into George."

" There's only one of them who understands any English, beside old Gray Lizard," said Oliver," and that's the tall fellow covered with the bearskin. We took the trouble to explain the matter to them; but they just shake their heads and candidly think the worst of us."

" Injuns," stated Boone, " can never be got to quite believe the white man. Maybe it's because they've been beaten so often


and in so many ways that they've come to think that he can't have played fair with him."

The wrestling was now going forward, and big Sam Dutton, he of the "stone throw," was disposing of opponent after opponent with ease. There being little interest manifested in this because of its one-sidedness, the master of ceremonies, a stout, humorous-looking man, called out:

" I reckon we'll now have the fancy riders out getting ready." Then in a lower tone to those near him, " This is a thing the Injuns always win, and our boys ought to be ashamed of themselves for letting 'em. Trick riding ought to be as easy for a white as a redskin."

This complaint was greeted by a laugh from those at whom it was aimed ; and the laugh was still echoing when a young Shawnee ran out and across the green. To a tree some distance away he affixed a mark of painted bark, then he paced off a score of


yards, turned, drew a tomahawk and waved it as though in challenge. Then the sinewy, bronzed arm went back and the hatchet whizzed through the air; true and fair it struck the mark, burying itself an inch or more in the tree.

A yell went up from the young braves at this ; there were challenging glances thrown right and left; but as none of the whites appeared disposed to accept, a fresh mark was put up. Another Shawnee stepped forward and drew out a heavy-bladed knife. For an instant he balanced it in his hand, then launched it forward like a lightning flash, straight to the heart of the mark.

Another whoop arose, and again the triumphant challenging glances went around from the young savages.

" They reckon there ain't none of you got it in you to do a thing like that," stated the master of ceremonies.

" Just you wait till the shooting," answered a voice, and a murmur went up


from among the whites. " We'll show 'em then."

" Well, you ought to," answered the stout man. " You've lived all your lives with rifles in your hands, and it's not much to your credit that you can shoot. But," and he waved one pudgy finger at them, " don't be too sure of the shooting, even at that. Maybe you ain't heard that Long Panther is here to-day ! And anybody that's acquainted with that young redskin knows a Shawnee with a good eye and a steady hand."

Here those horsemen entered for the fancy riding galloped out into the open space. To a man they were Indians, in all the bravery of paint and plumes.

" Not a single one of you!" exclaimed the fat master of ceremonies, reproachfully, his gaze going from the array of confident savages to the circle of lolling young whites. " Not a single one ; not a thing do you know about riding but to get into the



saddle and sit there like an old dame in a rocking-chair.   Not a single-"

But there he paused, for just then there rode into the open space a round-bodied youth with a cheerful, good-natured face, and mounted upon an ambling white horse, as fat and unlike the fiery brutes bestridden by the Shawnees as could well be imagined. A roar went up at sight of this unexpected entry ; even the stoical savages grinned in ironic enjoyment of the situation.

Gravely the master of ceremonies shook the newcomer's hand.

" Young man," said he, gratefully, " you may not have much chance, but you have got pluck. What's your name and the name of that young animal you're a-rid-ing?"

" I'm Sandy Campbell," replied that good-natured youth, " and this," patting the fat white horse on the neck, " is Soldier, a plow horse, fifteen years old, belonging to the man I work for."


Another shout went up from the bystanders ; but the master of ceremonies held up his hand.

" It's not your turn to laugh," stated he. " He's making a try ; and that's something more than any of you have the enterprise to do."

The word was given; one after another the young braves set their horses into a gallop; when at full speed they leaped from the backs of their mounts and, clinging to the streaming manes, ran a dozen or more yards by their sides ; then with agile swings they were astride them once more. Then with a rush they approached the starting point, bringing up sharply and in picturesque fashion, the front hoofs of the horses pawing the air.

All eyes now turned upon Sandy Campbell and the sleek sided Soldier. Quietly Sandy gave the white horse the word and calmly the placid beast obeyed. At a stoical gallop he began circling the clearing; his


movements were as regular as those of a rocking-horse; and Sandy sat him in total unconcern while shouts and laughter greeted them on every hand. Then Sandy threw his right leg across the horse's broad back, sitting him sideways; it looked like an uncouth beginning of the feat performed by the Shawnees and a titter of expectancy began. This changed to a roar of derision as the fat boy slid from his perch to the ground.

But if they had watched keenly, they would have perceived that he alighted with a soft, practiced accuracy ; also that the long comic bounds which followed at the side of the calmly galloping Soldier were really as light as those of a rubber ball. Then with one higher than the others, and never putting a hand upon his horse, he was upon its back once more; and Soldier drew up, switching his tail and regarding the green distance with sleepy eyes.

Without waiting for the surprised ap-42


plause of the settlers to grow to the height it naturally would have reached, one of the young Shawnees shook his rein ; his nimble steed darted away like the wind, an arrow flew ahead, performed a graceful arch and stuck in the ground. Racing at full speed the horse swooped down upon it; clinging wixh one foot and one hand the brave stooped, caught the feathered shaft, and recovering, waved it above him triumphantly.

Soldier was at once put into motion; when he had attained his best speed, Sandy's hat flew ahead to