Wearied as Peleg was by his recent contest, he nevertheless responded promptly, and in a brief time the hunters arrived at the border of the stream near which Peleg had been compelled to drop his rifle. When he had cast it from him he had tossed it into the nearby bushes, dimly thinking that if by chance he should escape he might return and find the weapon which he prized so highly. A part of the scout's teachings already had taken effect in this forethought of his young comrade. To be prepared for any emergency was an essential part of life in the woods. As they drew near the spot, Peleg was thinking of the great lesson he had learned from Boone. He ran to the bushes, pushed aside the brush and drew forth his gun with some pride. A smile lighted the face of Boone as he nodded his head in approval of the forethought of his young friend, and advancing, he extended his hand to inspect the weapon. "What happened to the gun?" he inquired, as he marked the condition of the stock. "I struck the skull of the Indian." "'Twas a hard blow, son, and I have slight doubt the Indian's head is aching." "If it had not been for that, I should not be here to tell you about it now." "No one can say about that. You _are_ here, Peleg, and we must act upon that which _is_ rather than upon what might have been. Indeed, I have long since learned to accept my life with that understanding. I had nothing to say about when I should come into the world, and I have as little to say about when I shall leave it. The only part I can guide is that which is in between. I can fix this stock," he added, "and soon we shall have Susan singing again. We will push forward a little farther and find some place where we can camp for the night. A good sleep will do you more good than anything else, though first I must attend again to that hand of yours." Selecting a linen bandage, a small supply of which Boone always carried with him on his expeditions, he gathered some leaves of the witch-hazel plant and, pounding them to a pulp, spread them upon the cloth. Thoroughly washing the wounded hand of Peleg, he then bound the cloth and pulp of the leaves upon the wound, saying as he did so: "In a week you will be as good as new." As soon as this task had been accomplished the journey was resumed, although only two miles was covered before Boone was convinced that his companion was too weary to proceed farther. The following day, although Peleg's hand still was sore from his wound, he found little difficulty in carrying his rifle, for the great scout had been successful in restoring Singing Susan to her former efficient condition. Increasing signs of the presence of the Indians were seen, and once Boone turned aside from his pathway when an old canoe was found, which with a little effort he was able to patch up. "I am fearful of the water," he said, "for I cannot swim. Can you, son?"