. Fortunately for the latter, the Revolutionary War
was now in full progress, and the Indians deemed it more
advantageous to themselves to sell their prisoners than to
torture them. They, therefore, took them to Detroit, where
all were ransomed by the British except Boone. The governor
offered a large sum for his release, but the savages would
not listen to the bribe. They knew the value of the man they
held, and were determined that their illustrious captive
should not escape again to give them trouble in field and
forest.

Leaving Detroit, they took him to Chillicothe, on the Little
Miami River, the chief town of the tribe. Here a grand
council was held as to what should be done with him. Boone's
fate trembled in the balance. The stake seemed his destined
doom. Fortunately, an old woman, of the family of Blackfish,
one of their most distinguished chiefs, having lost a son in
battle, claimed the captive as her adopted son. Such a claim
could not be set aside. It was a legal right in the tribe,
and the chiefs could not but yield. They were proud, indeed,
to have such a mighty hunter as one of themselves, and the
man for whose blood they had been hungering was now treated
with the utmost kindness and respect.

The ceremony of adoption into the tribe was a painful one,
which Boone had to endure. Part of it consisted in plucking
out all the hairs of his head with the exception of the
scalp-lock, of three or four inches diameter. But the shrewd
captive bore his inflictions with equanimity, and appeared
perfectly contented with his lot. The new son of the tribe,
with his scalp-lock, painted face, and Indian dress, and his
skin deeply embrowned by constant exposure to the air, could
hardly be distinguished from one of themselves, while his
seeming satisfaction with his new life was well adapted to
throw the Indians off their guard. His skill in all manly
exercises and in the use of arms was particularly admired by
his new associates, though, as Boone says, he "was careful
not to exceed many of them in shooting, for no people are
more envious than they in this sport."

His wary captors, however, were not easily to be deceived.
Seemingly, Boone was left free to go where he would, but
secretly he was watched, and precautions taken to prevent
his escape. He was permitted to go out alone to hunt, but
the Indians always carefully counted his balls and measured
his charges of powder, determined that he should have none
to a