"Better them than your hair," Simon Kenton replied. "If the snakes come this way again they'll make short work of the cabin an' all that's in it, whether you be here to make a show of defendin' it or not. In case they stay away, the stuff will be safe where it is, if we take care to keep out the wild beasts." There was a look of pain on my mother's face which I knew had been caused by the thought of leaving behind her scanty goods; but she gave no words to her sorrow, joining with the young scout in the conversation concerning the day's tramp. When the meal had been eaten, and mother tidied up the cabin a bit, we went out into the sunlight, closing door and window shutter behind us, as if counting on returning before nightfall. Simon Kenton took the lead, and then was begun the long march which did not end until late in the night. We made few halts, and then only for a few moments at a time. We ate as we walked, forcing our way through the dense underbrush, and ever on the alert against danger. Mr. Sampson more than once insisted that the pace was killing him; he declared, when the day was half spent, that it would be impossible for him to walk half a mile farther; but when Kenton quietly suggested that he might halt wheresoever he chose, and follow our trail the next morning, he came to the conclusion that perhaps he might keep his feet a short time longer. Paul was as cheery a companion as one could desire. Although he was foot-sore and weary, as I knew full well, not a word of complaint came from his lips, and before the day was ended I knew Simon Kenton had begun to love the lad even as I already did, for he whispered once when we were well in advance of the others: "That boy is worth a dozen such men as his father. He has got true pluck, an' I'll warrant you wouldn't hear him whine even when he'd fallen in his tracks worn out." There is no reason why I need say how my mother bore her share of the fatigue. She was a brave, true woman, and when any task, however great, was to be done, went at it with a will and in silence, or with cheery words. When, at a late hour in the evening, we were come opposite Corn Island, and had found one of Major Clarke's force who was willing to ferry us across the river, I was more astounded than words can express, for it was as if I had suddenly emerged from the wilderness to find myself in a populous town. No less than twenty families had come down with the volunteers, and were encamped together, nearby where the men had their quarters. Counting men, women and children, there could not have been less than four hundred and fifty people, three times as many as I had ever before seen in one place. The greater portion of this gathering was asleep; but I could well fancy what bustle and confusion there must be when all were moving about, and the mere idea bewildered me.