ound in the rear of this. They were afraid to use their
rifles: the report would wake the other camp. Calloway was to stand ready
to shoot the sleeping Indian if he stirred, while Boone was to creep
behind the other, seize, and strangle him. They were then to hurry off
with the children. Unfortunately, they calculated wrong: the Indian whom
they supposed to be sleeping was wide awake, and, as Boone drew near, his
shadow was seen by this man. He sprang up, and the woods rang with his
yell. The other camp was roused; the Indians came rushing to this.
Boone's first impulse was to use his rifle, but Calloway's prudence
restrained him. Had he fired, it would have been certain destruction to
parents and children. They surrendered themselves prisoners, pleading
earnestly at the same time for their captive daughters. The Indians bound
them with cords, placed guards over them, and then retired to their camp.
The poor girls, roused by the tumult, now saw their parents in this
pitiable condition. Here they were, likewise made captives, for their
love of them.

There was no more sleep in the Indian camp that night. Till the dawn of
the day they were talking of what should be done to the new prisoners:
some were for burning them at the stake; others objected to this. Boone
and Calloway were to be killed, but they were too brave to be killed in
this way. Some proposed making them run the gauntlet. At last it was
decided (in pity for the girls, it is said) that the parents should be
killed in a more decent and quiet way. They were to be tomahawked and
scalped, and the girls were still to be kept prisoners. With the
morning's light they started out to execute the sentence. That the poor
girls might not see their parents murdered the men were led off to the
woods, and there lashed to two trees. Two of the savages stood before
them with their tomahawks, while the rest were singing and dancing around
them. At length the tomahawks were lifted to strike them; at that instant
the crack of rifles was heard, and the two Indians fell dead. Another and
another report was heard: others fell, and the rest fled in dismay.
Boone's companions had saved them. All night long they had waited for the
signal: none had been given; they had heard the Indian yell; they feared
that they were taken. They had watched the camp with the greatest
anxiety, and now had delivered them. They were instantly untied; the
girls were quickly released, and in the arms of the