On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West

"There are many others here who could do better service than we," I replied, not relishing a second encounter.

If Paul and I had been alone in the thicket, and were the only ones who could give assistance to Simon Kenton, then never for an instant would I have dreamed of holding back; but here were near to four hundred men, all of them with more experience in such bloody business than either he or I, and it was only a question of desire that would carry us into the conflict.

"We set out from Corn Island with him, and should be the first to go to his relief," Paul said, as if the matter was already settled in his mind, and I understood on the instant that he would apply to Major Clarke for permission to join the force, whether I was disposed to accompany him or not.

It would have shamed me wofully had Simon Kenton been alive when the party reached him, and failed to see me with my comrade, therefore I leaped up at once as if eager for another battle, and together we approached the commander.

"It is our desire, sir, to take part in the rescue," Paul said modestly, "We were his comrades, and should be the first to go to his relief."

Then it was Major Clarke made much the same answer as had I, replying that it would be better the older men take the brunt of the affair; but Paul held grimly to his purpose, by repeating:

"It is our duty, sir, and I believe it to be our right."

I was not disposed that he should be the only one to display courage and a desire to aid Simon Kenton, therefore I said, throwing such of desire into my tones as was possible:

"I pray you, sir, that we be allowed to join the party, if for no other reason than because the scout was our comrade."

"It shall be as you say, lads," Major Clarke replied; "but I warn you against being too eager for such frays. An attack in the night, while it may sometimes be less dangerous than in the daytime, is likely to prove far more hazardous."

The major might have convinced me that it was my duty to remain aboard the flat-boat; but Paul Sampson was as headstrong once he had resolved, as he was quiet in manner, and I understood, without the necessity for words, that he would not be turned from his purpose.

It can well be supposed that after this word was brought in every man gave due heed to silence, for should the savages who were making ready to torture the prisoner, discover that we were near at hand, Simon Kenton's death would speedily follow.

To make any attempt to gain the opposite shore with one of the large flat-boats would be folly, therefore all the dugouts which we towed, or carried aboard, were brought into line, and those men selected for the enterprise clambered into them, Paul and I among the others.

Now to my surprise, instead of putting directly across the river, the boats were allowed to drift down on the same side where the heavy craft were moored, keeping well within the shadow of the trees, and not until we were a mile or more below where it was said the Indians had halted, was any effort made to cross.

By the time the opposite side was gained we were fully two miles down stream, and even a greater distance from the place it would be necessary to gain in order to rescue Kenton.

Here we landed, Major Clarke and one of the older men taking the lead, while the remainder followed in single file.

Paul and I were midway of the line, and because strict orders had been given that no word should be spoken, he pressed my arm from time to time as if to convey by such means the thoughts that came into his mind.

I could not divine of what he might be thinking; but I knew it was a very disagreeable fact that at any moment we might fall into an ambush, for no man could say with certainty that the Indians had failed to note our coming.

I suffered more during that tramp of two miles in the utter darkness, than on the previous night when it had seemed as if Paul's fate and mine was sealed.

When we were come so near to the place of torture that the light of the fires kindled around the tree to which the captive was bound could be plainly seen, but were screened from view of the river by the foliage, my heart beat and thumped until it seemed, so nervous had I become, as if the noise must give warning to the painted crew who were dancing around their intended victim.

In whispers Major Clarke gave orders that the men should separate and creep forward, each at a distance of six paces from the other, until we had half encircled the murderous band, and then each was to be on the alert, ready to fire when the first report of the commander's rifle was heard.

By such means was it believed that a full half of the savages would be slain at the first fire, and, thus taken by surprise, the remainder would seek safety in flight.

When Paul and I, keeping nearer together than the orders permitted, had come as close to the savages as might be done with safety, we had a full view of the unfortunate Kenton.

I had no doubt but that the Indians recognized him as one who had worked them no little harm in the past, for they were preparing to prolong his tortures to the utmost. Sharp splinters of wood were being made ready for use after the fashion of spears, lest knives should produce death too quickly, and the painted crew were already circling close around him, when, as I knew from what had been told me by the others, before the fires were lighted which should burn his flesh, he would be cut and mangled with a thousand superficial wounds.

A brave man was Simon Kenton, and so he showed himself at this moment when there could have been no hope in his mind that help was near.

Stripped nearly naked in order that the murderous wolves might see where to strike without inflicting too serious an injury, he faced them with what was very like a smile on his face, while the blood was already flowing down his body from tiny gashes, and I understood that however much of anguish might come to him, never a cry of pain could be rung from his lips.

Paul crept nearer to grasp my arm with a convulsive clutch, and I knew the lad was feeling most keenly for the prisoner, being able to understand full well what must have been the captive's thoughts, for had he not occupied the same position?

I had leveled my rifle, aiming at the Indian who stood nearest Simon Kenton, determined that the ball should find its billet, when the sharp crack of Major Clarke's weapon rang out, and a dancing savage fell to the ground with a shriek of pain and defiance.

Instantly half an hundred rifles were discharged, and it seemed to me as if every feathered head went down, after which the scene was obscured from view by clouds of sulphurous smoke.

CHAPTER VIII.

AT THE RENDEZVOUS

Even before the smoke had cleared away sufficiently for me to see the captives, our people rushed forward, all reloading as they ran, and during two or three minutes the confusion was so great that I could not make out what might be going on.

Paul and I had dashed forward with the rest, and, instinctively, so far as I was concerned, we directed our steps toward the prisoner, who was bound hand and foot in such a manner that I question if he could have moved either of his limbs by so much as a hair's breadth.

The effect of the fire was not so deadly as I had at first supposed. More than one of the savages must have dropped to the ground to disconcert our aim, as I now understood on seeing that no more than five lay stretched out on the ground near the captive.

The remainder had taken to cover a short distance away, and two of our men dropped as they ran forward, while I saw bloodstains on the shirts of two others.

"We must get to shelter!" I shouted to Paul, swerving aside from the course we had been pursuing as I spoke, and clutching his arm in order that he should be forced to do the same.

The brave little lad had no idea of leaving Simon Kenton at the mercy of the painted brutes, however. It was reasonable to suppose they would shoot him rather than allow a rescue, and Paul was bent on saving him at the hazard of his own life.

Wrenching his arm from my grasp, and almost at the same instant drawing his hunting knife, he dashed on toward the tree to which the scout was bound, and involuntarily I followed; but no credit should be given me for the act, because I was hardly conscious of my own movements.

Here, there and everywhere around us, as it seemed to me, rang out the reports of rifles, and every weapon was held with deadly aim.

It was as if the air was full of death-dealing missiles, and yet no one of them touched us as we sped across what was now an open space, both white men and savages having retreated to the nearest shelter.

Paul was the first to reach the captive, and with an exultant shout he began hacking at the deer-hide thongs with which the poor fellow was bound.

"You're lads after my own heart!" Simon Kenton cried, his voice ringing out clear and distinct even above the yells of the combatants and the rattle of the rifles. "If I live it may be possible to pay you two for this night's work!"

His words drove the timorousness from my heart, and before he ceased speaking I was aiding Paul in severing the thongs with as much eagerness as if it had been my idea rather than his to perform such perilous work.

The savages began to shoot at us in the hope of preventing our purpose, and, perhaps, to kill the prisoner at the same time, whereupon our people opened such rapid and murderous fire that not a be-feathered head dared to show itself, and in a comparatively short space of time Simon Kenton was running stiffly toward the nearest shelter.

He had been bound in one position so long that his limbs were nearly helpless; but he managed to get over the ground nearly as fast as could we two lads, and picked up a rifle that had fallen from a dead Indian's hand even as he ran.

It was to me as if the fight had hardly more than begun when we three were in a place of comparative safety once more, and on the alert to pick off a foe.

Paul and I had a sufficient amount of ammunition to provide the scout with what he needed in order to continue his portion of the fight, and as he stood behind a big gum tree watching keenly for an opportunity to avenge the insults he had endured, we carried on quite a friendly conversation.

"What did you do when mornin' came an' I failed to show up?" Kenton asked, whereupon I replied quickly, thinking that the present was by far the best time I would ever have in which to acknowledge my fault.

"We went in search of you after an hour had passed, and failed to find the canoe on our return."

Then Paul, most like, understanding that I would have the story told in a manner favorable to myself, gave a hurried account of our adventures from that time until we learned of the scout's trouble.