The hunter had turned his gaze from the face of Deerfoot, apparently because of something said by him, and was looking at the Blackfoot and the brothers, who were approaching with their horses on a slow walk. Deerfoot also turned and beckoned the boys to draw near. They did so, scrutinizing the stranger, whom they certainly had never seen until then. To their amazement the young Shawanoe introduced them to Daniel Boone, the most famous pioneer of the early West. The boys had heard of him times without number, for he was an old acquaintance of their father, and they knew how intimate he and Kenton had been. He was genial and pleasant, although always inclined to reserve, and insisted that the company should dismount and spend the rest of the day and night with him. [Illustration: Daniel Boone and Deerfoot.] It was hard to refuse, but the signs of poverty, and especially the sight of several wan faces peering through the broken windows, decided Deerfoot that it would be more considerate for them to make excuse. The presence of so many, even if divided among several households, could not but be burdensome. But the boys dismounted and walked with Deerfoot and Boone to the cabin from which the pioneer had emerged, and found seats on the broken-down porch. The Blackfoot preferred to stay where he was and look after the horses. The talk was one that the boys remembered all their lives. The sight of Deerfoot, who was as well known to Boone as to Kenton, seemed to warm the cockles of the pioneer’s heart, and he talked with a freedom that would have astonished his friends. Deerfoot did not hesitate to tell him of the destination of himself and boys and the long venturesome journey before them. The mild blue eyes lit up. “I wish I could go with you!” exclaimed Boone. “Why can’t you?” asked Deerfoot. “It will make all our hearts glad.” The great ranger shook his head. “No; I’m too old.” “Why, you can’t be more than fifty, if you are that much,” said the impulsive Victor. With a smile that showed his fine, even teeth, Boone said: “Fifty years ago I was older than Deerfoot is now, for I’m close to three score and ten. I do a little hunting, as I expect to do to the end of my life, but I couldn’t stand such a tramp as you have started on, my friends. Howsumever, it’s the best thing in the world for these youngsters, and they couldn’t have better company than Deerfoot.” “We found that out long ago,” said George Shelton warmly. “If it hadn’t been for him, my brother and I would have never lived to be here.” “My brother shouldn’t talk that way,” protested the Shawanoe with a blush. “Haven’t you always told us to speak the truth?” asked Victor. “And you know what George just said is as true as it can be.” Deerfoot would have liked to deny it, but he could not. Nevertheless, it was not pleasing to listen to praise of himself, as, I am forced to say, he was often compelled to do. He shook his head and looked at Boone.