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
Instinctively I leaped to my feet when I should have remained
motionless, and Paul laid hold of the skirt of my hunting-shirt as if
fearing I might be counting on rushing out.
One, two, three minutes passed, during which time the most absolute
silence reigned, and then a slight rustling of the branches told that
the scout was returning.
I breathed more freely, knowing he was not the one who had given vent to
that cry of pain, and stepped forward to learn how serious was the
danger which threatened.
"We have run across thirty or more reptiles--most likely the same that
were met while coming down the river," he whispered in my ear as I bent
forward eager for information.
"Why did you fire?" I asked, believing for the moment that by such act
he had told them where we lay concealed.
"They had learned where we were, and now completely surround us. It's a
case of fightin' our way out, lad, if we count on gainin' Corn Island.
It is better to make a move at once, than wait till they are ready to
close in on us."
I understood by these words that Kenton believed the situation to be
most dangerous, otherwise he would not have suggested we make a move in
the night when the savages would have a great advantage over us, and, as
usual in such cases, my heart grew cowardly once more.
While I stood there undecided the scout hurriedly repeated to Paul that
which he had told me, and I saw the lad rise to his feet without
hesitation. He was even then, as he has since many times proven himself,
my superior in all that goes to make up a frontiersman.
"Follow me," Kenton whispered, "and when you are forced to fire, see to
it there be no delay in re-loadin' your rifle. Accordin' to my way of
thinkin' we'll have to fight ourselves through this gang, an' the more
we disable 'twixt now an' night the easier will be our work to-morrow."
There was in my mind the thought that we were now where we must keep up
a running fight until one party or the other was shot down, and,
considering the fact that they outnumbered us at least ten to one, it
seemed most likely ours would be the side that went under.
When danger comes close upon me I forget my cowardice, as a rule, and so
it was now. There seemed little chance we could fight our way through
where were so many to oppose us, and the odds were all in favor of the
savages.
Realizing this fully, as I believe Simon Kenton did also, I ceased to
think of the cause I had for fear, but set my teeth hard, resolving to
give the painted wolves good reason to remember me after they had shot
us down.
Simon Kenton was not disposed to linger; he understood of what advantage
in a fight is the first blow, and was eager to deal it.
He waited only long enough to assure himself we two lads were ready for
the hot work before us, and then turned to leave the hiding-place which,
as he had said, was already surrounded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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