That was a morning those lads would never forget as long as they lived. Side by side they walked with the man who knew more about Indian craftiness than any other along the entire frontier; and in his own pleasant way Boone gave the boys much valuable advice. "Always keep a charge in your gun if possible," he said, "and sleep with one eye open, when you have reason to believe there are Indians around; for, next to a cat, I believe the red varmints to be the trickiest things in all creation. But here we are at the spot I picked out for your settlement. It would not be wise for you to go any further, lads. What do you think of my choice? Do you believe you can make a happy home here?" When they looked around, and noted the natural beauty of the location, commanding a fine view of the river as it did, the two boys were loud in its praise. "I'm glad you like it," observed Boone; "for the first time I struck this place I determined that some day it must be covered with the homes of white men. Once an Indian village stood here, and why they moved away I never learned; but you will find many signs where their lodges stood, and there are burial places back in the hills." "Must you go now, Colonel Boone?" asked Bob, who felt a sense of keen regret because their pleasant relations must be severed so soon. "It is necessary that we lose no more time," came the reply; "already I fear that some who await us far beyond may be in difficulties, for the Indians were beginning to grow troublesome at the time I left. But we will come again. Here we shall hope to find a warm welcome when passing back and forth." So the boys shook hands with each of the five buckskin-clad rangers. The young man, Simon Kenton, had interested them very much. "He has the making of a second Colonel Boone in him," Bob said, as his eyes followed the little band of pioneers, walking along in Indian file, with Kenton bringing up the rear; "I wish he would only take a notion to join his fortunes with us here." Then the figures of the five were hidden in the dense undergrowth. The last they saw of Daniel Boone was when he turned, before plunging into the thicket, to wave a hand to them in good-bye. "What shall we do now?" asked Sandy, rather gloomily; for somehow he seemed to feel the departure of these valiant frontiersmen keenly, though he had only known them such a brief time. "Stay around here until our folks come. We promised Colonel Boone not to follow after him, you remember," returned Bob, with whom his word was as good as his bond. "But that may not be for some hours," protested the impatient Sandy; "because, you know, they were not near ready to start when we left camp; and then they will move much slower than we did, led by men who know every trail." "But it ought to be enough for us to just sit here and look out on that grand river," remarked Bob, admiration in his eyes, as he turned them upon the silently flowing stream, still bank-full from the spring rains.