but lads who do it.

RIGDON.
The wilderness makes men of lads right quickly; does it not, Master
Boone?

BOONE
(seated on log).
Aye, that it does. If it were not for the stress of the times, and the
scarcity of men to keep watch, you should be back in Boonesborough, and
not here, my lads. But 'twas for your courage and skill that I chose
you. How comes the salt, Rigdon?

RIGDON.
Finely, sir, finely. And the hunting?

BOONE
(shaking his head).
Scarce enough to keep a fox alive. I must start forth again. There
should be plenty of bison fat and deer meat for the days that are
coming. (Enter Kenton with bucket of water. He puts it down, and
salutes Boone.) Well, Kenton, what news from the springs?

KENTON.
The same as ever, sir. Blaize Pritchard and Edward Bryan stand guard
while the rest of us carry water. The camp is as you see it. There's
not been a sign of an Indian since you left us yesternight.

BOONE.
You do not ask what I've brought back with me, Kenton.

KENTON.
I know, sir, that if there were game to be had you would have bagged
it. But since we've come to the Blue Lick Springs the buffalo and deer
seem to have gotten wind of us. There's not so much as a rabbit
scampering across the grass. It seems as if nature herself were in
league against us.

BOONE.
Nonsense, lad. There'll be game enough soon, when I've foraged further.
Such times as these were sent to us to see whether we be of iron or
putty.

KENTON.
All the same, sir, I'll be glad when the boiling is done and we can
pack our salt, and start through the forest for home. Long as the trail
is, I would sooner have it than----

BOONE
(clutching rifle).
Hark! The crack of a branch--in the forest. On the defense, lads. I'll
investigate.

[Goes into woods at right.

KENTON
(in a low voice, as the lads seize their rifles).
If it should be those venomous Shawnees! Before we left Boonesborough
'twas said that they'd already passed the war-pipe through their
villages. They have been still so long, 'tis time for an uprising.
(Approaching footsteps are heard.) Who comes?

COLBY
(on the alert).
Just Boone himself.

RIGDON.
What signs, sir?

BOONE.
No signs at all, unless for the first time in their lives the Indians
are shrewder than the Long Knives. There's not so much as a broken
branch, or a newly fallen leaf. Now, lads, off to the spring with you.
I'll tend this last kettle, and when 'tis boiled, I'll start on the
trail again. Ther