“Mother took the children and went back to her father’s place on the Yadkin,” began Hardy, anticipating the question that hung on Boone’s lips. “You see, they all thought you were dead, Dad. But we didn’t. Did we, Kenton?” “Well, hardly,” replied the scout, with a chuckle. “I kinder thought I’d hear something drop, Captain, in case your hair was raised.” “Well, if I wasn’t scalped, I was plucked, and that’s the next thing to it,” said Boone, removing his felt hat and displaying his bald pate and scalp-lock to his astonished companions. “I’m a full-blooded Indian, Hardy. Your dad is Sheltowee, the Big Turtle, and he’s apt to go on the rampage any time, so watch out, young man.” By this time the trio had arrived at Boone’s cabin, but before they could set about their preparations for supper neighbors began to arrive with an abundance and variety of food, prompted equally by a desire to serve their leader and impatient curiosity to hear his story. The party made a hearty meal in the open, and then Boone related to them all that had befallen him since the New Year’s Day on which he set out for the Lower Blue Licks with the band of salt-makers. The tale was long in the telling, for the description of the Indian village and the customs of its inhabitants was new to the auditors. They, in their turn, had many matters of more or less moment to mention to Boone, so that the summer night was far advanced when this man of iron turned to his couch for a much needed rest. The next day work upon the necessary repairs to the fort was entered into with vigor. From time to time settlers, alarmed by the urgency of the call, came in with their families. Men, women and children were kept busy from early morning until night, for there was work in which all could take some part. When the fourth, and then the fifth, day passed without the appearance of the Indians, there was some inclination to desist, but Boone insisted upon a completion of the preparations without delay, and would not allow any of the men to return to their farms until the fort was in a satisfactory state. After ten days’ hard labor the stockade was in the most effective condition attainable to resist attack. The line of palisades had been made entire, new gates had been erected, the blockhouses strengthened, double bastions constructed, provisions laid in, and cattle collected. Just before the termination of the task, one of the captives from Chillicothe, who had contrived to escape shortly after Boone left, arrived at the fort. From him it was learned that the war-party, disconcerted by Boone’s escape, had postponed its departure for three weeks, and meanwhile had sent to Detroit for a reinforcement of whites. The latter news was alarming, but it was offset by the consideration that the delay greatly increased the chance of the hoped-for aid from the Holston arriving in time.