A great concourse awaited their coming on the outskirts of the town. The larger part of the crowd was composed of unkempt squaws, in dirty clothing, many of them with babies strapped to their backs. Young boys and girls, with a sprinkling of aged grandsires, made up the remainder, whilst the mongrel dogs of the Indians yelped an excited welcome to their returning masters. A mile from the town the warriors had begun to chant their song of victory, and as they neared the waiting throng they set to brandishing their weapons and shouting exultantly. The prisoners were conducted to the great square and there subjected to the curious scrutiny of the women and children for the space of an hour or two. The greatest interest was displayed in the white squaw who had come in carrying his sick papoose upon his back. The Shawnees kept Boone and his companions at old Chillicothe for nearly three weeks, during which time they were well treated and, from the Indian point of view, comfortably lodged. At length ten of the prisoners and Boone were sent, under the escort of forty of the savages, to Detroit. Here they were, as Boone declared, “treated by Governor Hamilton, the British commander at that post, with great humanity.” Boone did not forget this kindness and afterwards, when Hamilton was an execrated prisoner in the hands of the Americans, Boone befriended him to the best of his ability. The ten men who had been brought to Detroit in company with their captain were readily ransomed by the British, but the Indians declined to dispose of Boone in the same manner. The Governor offered one hundred pounds sterling--an extraordinary sum--for his release, intending to liberate him on parole. The offer must have been an extremely tempting one, but the Shawnees resolutely refused it. Boone had created a deep impression on their chiefs, and it had been determined, although the fact was not then announced, to adopt him into the tribe. Boone made no effort to influence the issue one way or the other. Perhaps he realized that it would be futile to attempt to turn the Indians from their purpose. Perhaps he thought it advisable to go back to the remainder of his men. Or, which is highly probable, he was anxious for the opportunity of learning more about the tribe which constituted the chief menace to his people in Kentucky. Whatever his motive, he displayed such willingness to accompany the Shawnees back to Chillicothe that they were deluded into the belief that he was really disposed to become one of themselves. Some of the officers at Detroit pressed gifts of money and various useful articles upon Boone, but he declined them all, saying that so far as he could foresee, the opportunity to repay their proffered kindness would never occur and he could not allow himself to lie under a perpetual obligation to them. Their good wishes he thankfully acknowledged, and left them with feelings of respect and admiration for him.