ed a severe wound. Apparently Boone
did not believe that his sufferings were to be relieved by anything his
friends could do to aid him. He had seldom spoken since the men had
departed from the Station, but Peleg was confident that he understood
the purpose which was urging the gentle-hearted hunter forward.
The second day the advancing soldiers came near to the place where the
fight had occurred. Long before they had arrived, however, Peleg had
shuddered when he discovered flocks of circling buzzards that were
hovering over the battle ground. He glanced into the face of his
companion when the discovery had been made, and knew that the scout also
understood the meaning of their presence.
When the advancing band approached the bank of the river they discovered
many of the bodies still floating near the shore. They were the
unfortunate victims that had been shot by the Indians after they had
rushed into the stream.
A silence, indescribable, intense, awful, settled over all the men.
There were tears in the eyes of some of the hardiest of the settlers at
the fearful sight upon which they looked. No man was able to recognize
among the putrid bodies the face of his lost friend.
Silently the men crossed the ford and advanced toward the ravine. In
the scene of the recent fight the sight was even more heartbreaking.
Here, too, the bodies of the many who had fallen could no longer be
distinguished one from another.
Daniel Boone, unmindful of the presence of his comrades, had been
searching quietly among the bodies for that of his missing boy. Even the
men who were most eager in their search for their friends stopped a
moment as they watched the man in his agonizing and fruitless quest.
The great scout soon turned to Colonel Logan and said: "'Tis no use,
Colonel. We must give the poor fellows decent burial here and now."
The men at once carried out the bidding which their leader gave.
Silently the settlers, for the moment all thoughts of vengeance gone
from their minds, dug trenches wherever the soil permitted, and in these
the bodies of their dead and mutilated friends were buried.
There were many faces in the band down which the tears were rolling
while this task was being accomplished. The manner of the great scout,
however, was unchanged. Only the deepening of the lines in his face and
his unusual pallor gave indications of the strain through which he was
passing. His manner still was silent and self-controlled
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