One afternoon in the early part of February Boone was making his way towards the lick, after a successful hunt, when he suddenly found himself surrounded by a hundred Indians. Not having seen a redskin for months, and knowing the unlikelihood of their presence in numbers at that time of the year, Boone was perhaps not as keenly on the alert as usual. But, in any case, he could hardly have escaped his present predicament. He had not crossed the trail of the Indians nor encountered any signs of them. They had seen him earlier in the day and had secreted themselves about his return path. As soon as Boone was fairly within the circle of the ambuscade, the savages suddenly arose on every side and made at him. He took in the situation at a glance and, dropping the carcass with which he was encumbered, started to run with all the speed he could command. A few years before, Boone had been a match for the swiftest runners among the redskins, but he had now reached middle age, when the limbs of the best lose something of their supple agility. Moreover, he had spent the day in toilsome exertion, without rest or food, whereas his pursuers were comparatively fresh. Still he held his own for awhile and put the Indians to their utmost endeavor to overtake him. At length, however, seeing that further effort was useless, Boone stopped and surrendered, with a complimentary remark to the foremost braves to put them in a good humor. It was at once evident to Boone that the band which had captured him was upon the war-path, and their destination could be none other than Boonesborough. They knew of the presence of the party at the lick and had, in fact, tracked the hunter from that place in the morning. As they journeyed thither, Boone’s mind was busy with a consideration of the conditions and the best course to be followed under the circumstances. His judgment was remarkably sure and his decisions unusually quick. Before they had arrived at the camp, he told the Indians that, if they would assure his men of kind treatment, he would order them to surrender without resistance. The proposition appealed to the savages and they readily gave the required promise. When the scene of the salt-making was reached the Indians secured to themselves all the advantage possible by surrounding the unconscious workmen, who were in an exposed spot, before discovering themselves. When the Indians made their presence known the whites were taken utterly by surprise, but they quickly seized their rifles and no doubt would have made a stout, though hopeless, resistance had not Boone signed to them to restrain their fire. He then approached with an escort of his captors and informed his men that he had agreed to their surrender. The declaration elicited some murmurs, but so great was the confidence in Boone’s resourcefulness and the wisdom of his conclusions, that the men laid down their arms without further ado and agreed to accompany the Indians.