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 allow that it was a fortunate mishap for you lads to have lost sight
of Simon Kenton, otherwise we should have been called upon to bury a
certain number of dead from among the force, instead of having to count
only four slightly wounded. Had that party of reptiles fired on us from
the thicket as we drifted by, much loss of life must have followed.
Therefore I hold to it that you have done us, at the very beginning of
the journey, good service."
"But where can Simon Kenton be?" I asked.
"Pushing on down the river most like, believing you were captured while
he was spying upon the other members of that gang. We shall come across
him before many days have passed, unless it so be that he finds it
necessary to come back for the purpose of warning us."
If the major had intimated that Simon Kenton might at that moment be a
prisoner among the savages, I should have felt the keenest anxiety for
his safety; but here was a man who had had more experience on the
frontier than the eldest among us, speaking of the scout as if it was
not possible any danger could have come to him, and whatever fears
might have been in my mind prior to this time were speedily allayed.
Now I began to enjoy the journey down the river. We had nothing to do
save sit at our ease while the swift, strong current bore us onward
toward our destination, and such traveling was exceedingly pleasant,
more particularly since I no longer thought it necessary to blame myself
for having left the canoe when I should have remained by her.
Simon Kenton himself would censure me for having done as I did; but
after knowing how much good had resulted from it, his words of blame
could not be severe.
It was with such thoughts I comforted myself, and finally gave no heed
to anything save that which was pleasurable.
When noon came Paul and I shared the provisions of our companions, and,
after the meal was come to an end, lay stretched at full length in the
after part of the boat watching the panorama spread out before us.
It must not be supposed that while the boats drifted on in this lazy
fashion the men neglected to give due heed to possible danger.
Strict watch was kept on either bank, and when it became necessary to
round a point or pass some tiny cove fringed with trees wherein the
enemy might lurk to send a shower of bullets among us, the heavy craft
were forced to the greatest possible distance from the place of danger,
while every man stood, rifle in hand, ready to check an attack or return
a volley.
It was not permitted that we should hold converse in voices louder than
a whisper, and those who worked the heavy sweeps were careful to do so
in the most noiseless fashion, for we knew full well that the enemy
lurked on either shore, and every care was taken to avoid giving notice
of our approach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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