Having picked up their guns, the brothers started through the thick woods; but not before Sandy, the younger, had cast a last wistful look back at the swollen waters of the Ohio, that, seen in the dull light of the overcast afternoon, flowed steadily toward the west. Truth to tell, that unknown western region was drawing the thoughts of the pioneer boy very much of late; and, even as he tramped along at the side of Bob, his first words told how he envied the rushing waters that were headed into the country he longed to see. "Abijah Cook is back at the settlement for a short spell, I heard Mr. Harkness say," he remarked, with a long sigh that caused his brother to turn an uneasy glance in his direction. "And has he given up ranging the woods with young Simon Kenton?" the older boy asked. "Oh! no; but he brought his winter's catch of pelts in for Mr. Harkness to dispose of, when he found the chance," Sandy replied. "And I suppose the old woodranger has been talking again about the region of the Mississippi," remarked Bob, who could guess what was on the mind of his brother. "Well," Sandy went on, "Abijah has seen that wonderful country, and he knows how different it is from this hilly place, where the corn washes down the sides of the slopes whenever a big rain comes. Out there it is mostly prairie, and the soil, he says, is black and rich. It will grow maize twice as high as your head. The stories he tells of what he saw on those prairies fairly make my heart ache." "But Sandy, you must try to forget all that," returned Bob, who often found it necessary to restrain his impatient young brother. "You are needed at home, for father is not able to hunt and trap, besides taking care of his crops. Nobody in the whole settlement brings in as much game as you do. Wait a few years, and then, when we are grown men, perhaps we may strike out for that country you have been hearing so much about; where De Soto discovered the greatest of rivers, and lies buried under its waters." Sandy sighed again. "I suppose I must wait, just as you say, Bob," he observed, "but it may not be for years, as you seem to think. Already some of the men are beginning to talk of making a flatboat, and floating down the Ohio until they reach the father of all the waters. They do not like the idea of the rascally French taking possession of all that fine land, which is a part of our own Virginia. And it may not be so very long before we will lose some of our people in that way." (Note 1.)[3]