“I don’t think this country will ever be safe for whites,” sighed Knight. “I feel faint. Wish I could eat and sleep and cross into Kentucky and make back to Richmond. I’m mortal tired of the border.” “Make a fire and I’ll fetch in some small game,” said Daniels. “After we’ve et and rested we’ll see what fits the young man’s case best.” He slipped into the growth and Kinsty scooped a shallow hole one side of the path and started a small blaze, feeding it with small pieces of bark until he had a deep bed of coals. Daniels came in with a turkey and some pigeons. He had knocked them over with his ax. The meat was quickly put to roasting. Knight discovered he was ravenously hungry. He could not wait for the meat to be cooked through. He snatched a turkey leg and ate like a wolf. “Take your time and don’t wolf it in chunks,” advised Daniels. After they had finished and covered the fire-hole with branches and dirt, with two small apertures for air, Daniels jumped to his feet and announced he would scout for a bit. Kinsty said nothing until the stranger had withdrawn; then he leaned forward and whispered-- “Wish I knew more ’bout him.” Knight shivered at this suggestion that all might not be right with Daniels. “He’s a white man. He didn’t have any red stripe on his back. Could he be one of the Girtys?” “Not Simon. I seen Simon once. May be George. I’m just as skeered of him as I be of Simon.” Knight’s nerves were unstrung. He groaned and complained, “I thought I’d be all right if I could live to reach the river. Now it looks worse’n it did when I was knocking Little Beaver off his feet. What shall we do? I’m fair wore out just from being afraid of what may happen.” Kinsty frowned at the threads of smoke escaping from the fire-hole vents, and after a while replied: “We’ve got to make sure. He may be honest as we be. But till we know we don’t want him behind us, nor scouting off one side. See here: only sensible thing for us to do is to take him to Massie’s. If folks there say he’s all right no harm’s done.” Knight sadly exclaimed: “Just let me git out of this country! I vow I’ll stay east of the mountains if I ever get back there.” “Few miles more won’t make much difference,” consoled Kinsty. “If we can s’prize that feller and tie his hands and take him down stream we’ll soon know if he’s all right.” “He seems to be a pleasant sort of man,” said Knight, now speaking more hopefully. Kinsty laughed silently. Then he muttered, “Pleasant? Yes, they can be that. A white man who lives with Injuns from ch’ice can be lots of things. They can wade into the river, with what looks to be blood on their face and arms, and beg for a keel-boat to swing in toward the bank and pick ’em up. No end to the traps they can set. Why, when you first called out I was sure you was bait for the trap that might snag me. Even when I see you, your legs’n arms all scratched and torn, I thought you was fixed up that way to fool me.”