On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the WestOtis, James
History
On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West
Otis, James
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
I knew that Kenton's acts had been the result of his keen sense of
hearing, and said to myself that the man must have been fitted by nature
for work like this, since it would be impossible for any person to train
his ears to such perfection.
This thought was in my mind when I heard a rustling of the foliage on
the outside near where I stood, and that instant I made as if to copy
the example of my companion.
"It is too late now," he said in a low tone. "The snakes are creepin'
off satisfied that they are like to get the worst of such a game. They
will hatch up some other plan before troublin' us again."
"But surely we haven't bested them so soon as this," I replied like a
stupid, and he laughed as if there was somewhat of humor in my remark.
"They have come here to plunder this cabin, and are not like to draw off
so soon. We will have enough of their company within the next four and
twenty hours; but for a time I reckon we have got a breathin' spell.
This is the way the British king wages war; provokin' the savages
against peaceful settlers; but once Major Clarke has broken up the
English nests, I'll venture to say the scurvy redcoats will turn their
attention to other matters than playin' the part of butchers."
"If we had only started to meet Major Clarke's force when you first
arrived," I said despondently, whereat Simon Kenton clapped me on the
shoulder in a friendly fashion, as he cried:
"This is no time to be thinking of what might have happened, Louis
Nelson. Men on the frontier must ever look forward, else by gazing
backward their hearts may grow timorous. Until we have driven off these
savages it should be to us as if Major Clarke's force had never set
out."
Mother had made no attempt to join in the conversation. Her pale face
and quivering lips told that she was thinking of that time, only such a
short distance in the past, when father had been in the clutches of
those who at that moment thirsted for our blood, and grief overshadowed
all the fears which the future could present.
Observing her, and knowing full well what terrible memories had come
trooping into her mind, I fell silent, striving as best I could to keep
back the timorousness which threatened to overcome me as I thus realized
what the wretches on the outside would do once our feeble defense was
overcome.
Simon Kenton moved here and there noiselessly as a cat, intent only upon
learning so much of what might be going on outside as his ears could
tell him.
While I remained motionless and silent at the post assigned me, he never
ceased for an instant his stealthy movements, and the knowledge that he
was so keenly on the alert did much toward strengthening my weak heart.
When perhaps an hour had passed thus in silence, a great hope came to
me, and foolishly I gave it words.
"The savages, finding that we were prepared for them, have drawn off," I
said, whereat Kenton smiled pityingly as one might at the foolish remark
of a child.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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