His errand at Howard's Creek was to secure a few men and attempt to cut off this band. Eager queries for news induced him to say he had just come from Clinch River, and that Captain William Russell, in charge of the rangers along the Clinch, had started Daniel Boone and Michael Stoner for the Falls of the Ohio to warn the surveyors along the river that the Indians were out and would soon be attacking the frontier and combing the Kentucky country clean. With much gusto he added that three Cherokees had been killed recently at the head of the Clinch. The thoughtless, in unison with Hacker and his companions, cheered this announcement most lustily. The men with families looked very grave. Of Baby Kirst, Hughes had seen no signs. His report of Indian-signs near my route over the mountains influenced me to return to the cabin and check up my ammunition more carefully. I spread a double handful of small bullets on the table, running seventy to the pound, and let each slip through my fingers to make sure none was irregular. Only those which were round and smooth were returned to the pouch. My flints and greased linen patches were examined a second time. An aged man, known as Uncle Dick, came in and watched me curiously, and grinned in approval of my caution. It was seldom a man reached his advanced age on the frontier. I had never heard Uncle Dick's last name, nor do I believe there was any one on the creek who had heard it. According to rumor he had gone against some law in South Carolina and had fled to the frontier. Despite his many years he was sturdy and strong, but his failing eyesight made him dependent upon knife and ax. Much travel in wet weather had crippled him with rheumatism, and he remained close to whatever settlement he happened to visit. "Fill the breast o' yer shirt with hunks o' corn cake, younker. Be sure yer ax is hitched so it won't be snagged from the loop when ye ride hellitiflicker through the bushes," he warned me. I nodded, and he seated himself on a three-legged stool and whetted a long knife against one of the fireplace stones, and mumbled: "Don't make no differ about me, but for the sake o' these younkers here such men as love killin' Injuns oughter keep clear o' the settlements an' do their stent on t'other side the Ohio. Old Cornstalk's powerful keen to git them fellers. When he hears they're here at the creek he's likely to strike quick an' mighty pert. Wal, if they come an' I can make it hand-grips with 'em I 'low there'll be some new Injuns in the Happy Huntin'-grounds." When I bid the people good-by and received their kindly wishes for a safe journey, Uncle Dick was still at the fireplace, trying to improve the razor-edge of his blade.