Ma’s blue eyes widened and she shivered slightly. “It makes me fearful, Pa. I’ve never really been afraid before.” She laid a thin, work-worn hand on her husband’s brawny one. “Let’s go back to Virginia.” Jim glanced quickly at his father and saw Pa’s face set in a stubborn mask. He was not surprised to hear his father say, “We can’t go all the way back there alone, Ma. It’s too dangerous. And there’s nothing back in Virginia for us. We were indentured servants, remember. I want to hang on to our farm, all four hundred acres of it.” Ma sighed and smoothed back her faded blond hair. “But we’re free now, Pa. We finished our time of service before we came out here three years ago. And I’d like Jim to have some schooling.” Pa shook his head. “There’d be no future for us in Virginia. We have no money to start back there. Here we have land, our own land. And this is going to be a wonderful country. As for school, you can teach Jim the way you’ve been doing. Weren’t you a governess in one of the big houses of Virginia?” Jim had been looking from one to the other of his parents, his clear blue eyes sparkling. “Please, Ma,” he said, “I want to stay here. You can teach me lots more, and I can help Pa to clear and plant the land.” Pa nodded to Jim and smiled in approval. “There’s big men out here, too, from the finest families of Virginia. Men like James Harrod, Robert Todd, Simon Kenton and George Rogers Clark. “You certainly remember Clark, Ma. His father’s land joined where we worked. George Rogers Clark will figure out some way to stop the redskins. You surely don’t intend to let one lone Indian boy scare you away from our home.” Ma tried to smile. “No. No Pa, of course not. But we can’t be sure there aren’t other Indians near at hand.” “That’s true,” Pa agreed. “You and Jim go to bed. I’ll sit up for a while and listen for any unusual sounds.” Ma shook her head. “I’ll stay up with you. Jim, I’ll make a pallet for you.” She got up and fixed a comfortable bed on the floor for Jim. Then she sat down in the cabin doorway beside her husband. Jim glanced at the Indian boy lying so quietly in his bed, dropped down on the pallet and went to sleep. Ma and Pa Hudson continued to sit in the doorway, rifles by their side, and to stare out into the silent black night. When Jim awakened the next morning, Ma had breakfast ready and the Indian boy was looking solemnly at him from his bed. Jim jumped up. “Good morning, boy,” he said with a smile. “What’s your name?” The Indian boy did not reply but kept his brown eyes fixed on Jim. Ma put a pewter bowl containing steaming hot grits at Jim’s place on the table. “Wash your hands and face, son.” “Yes’m.” Jim poured some water into the washbasin and began splashing water on his face and hands. As soon as he had finished he carried a pan of water to their strange guest, so he could wash his face. But the Indian boy just stared at him and did not move.