E-text prepared by the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) THE YOUNG TRAILERS A Story of Early Kentucky by JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc. New York Copyright, 1907, by D. Appleton and Company All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, must not be reproduced in any form without permission of the publishers. Copyright 1934 by Sallie B. Altsheler Printed in the United States of America TO SYDNEY A YOUNG KENTUCKIAN CONTENTS I.--Into the Unknown II.--The First Great Exploit III.--Lost in the Wilderness IV.--The Haunted Forest V.--Afloat VI.--The Voice of the Woods VII.--The Giant Bones VIII.--The Wild Turkey's "Gobble" IX.--The Escape X.--The Cave Dust XI.--The Forest Spell XII.--The Primitive Man XIII.--The Call of Duty XIV.--The Return XV.--The Siege XVI.--A Girl's Way XVII.--The Battle in the Forest XVIII.--The Test XIX.--An Errand and a Friend THE YOUNG TRAILERS CHAPTER I INTO THE UNKNOWN It was a white caravan that looked down from the crest of the mountains upon the green wilderness, called by the Indians, _Kain-tuck-ee_. The wagons, a score or so in number, were covered with arched canvas, bleached by the rains, and, as they stood there, side by side, they looked like a snowdrift against the emerald expanse of forest and foliage. The travelers saw the land of hope, outspread before them, a wide sweep of rolling country, covered with trees and canebrake, cut by streams of clear water, flowing here and there, and shining in the distance, amid the green, like threads of silver wire. All gazed, keen with interest and curiosity, because this unknown land was to be their home, but none was more eager than Henry Ware, a strong boy of fifteen who stood in front of the wagons beside the guide, Tom Ross, a tall, lean man the color of well-tanned leather, who would never let his rifle go out of his hand, and who had Henry's heartfelt admiration, because he knew so much about the woods and wild animals, and told such strange and absorbing tales of the great wilderness that now lay before them. But any close observer who noted Henry Ware would always have looked at him a second time. He was tall and muscled beyond his years, and when he walked his figure showed a certain litheness and power like that of the forest bred. His gaze was rapid, penetrating and inclusive, but never furtive. He seemed to fit into the picture of the wilderness, as if he had taken a space reserved there for him, and had put himself in complete harmony with all its details.