e Daniel Boone stopped, and, turning to his friends, whose presence
apparently neither surprised nor startled him, said: "I shall take my
boy to the place where the other bodies are lying. I desire you to say
nothing of what has befallen him until first I shall break the news to
my wife."

No reply was given to the request of the hunter, nor was any expected.
There was no protest by the scout, however, when Sam Oliver and Peleg
followed him as he bore his burden to the place where the bodies of the
men who had fallen in the sudden attack by the Indians were lying,
covered by blankets. There, still quiet, and as tender in his manner as
a woman, Daniel Boone lifted the body of his boy from his shoulders and
laid it beside those who were his fellow victims.

Peleg, whose eyes were watching every movement of the man for whom his
feeling was little less than adoration, in spite of his grief, marvelled
at the wonderful strength the scout displayed. There was no evidence of
struggle on his part, and as soon as he had deposited the body, Daniel
Boone turned away, and the two hunters required no word from him to
inform them that he had gone to tell his wife of the great sorrow which
had come into their lives. Peleg's eager look followed him even when he
saw him beckon her to one side of the company, and then both withdrew
from the sight of the entire band. The bearing of the scout was still
unchanged. So great was his self-control that no one in the party, who
did not know of the calamity, suspected that anything had befallen the
leader beyond the common feeling of sorrow for the loss of the five men.

What was said by Daniel Boone to his wife in that heartbreaking
interview no one ever knew. When the scout rejoined the band, which now
had assembled behind the protecting barricade, he said simply: "We must
prepare for a hasty burial. These bodies must not be left for the wolves
to maltreat." The leader spoke as quietly as if he were referring to one
of the ordinary experiences of life, instead of one that would have
wrung the heart of the strongest man.

On the hillside, near the place where the camp had been pitched, the
bodies of the fallen men were hastily buried. There were cries and sobs
from many of those who had been bereaved, and the unutterable fear and
horror which more or less possessed all the emigrant band were apparent
in the glances of terror which were frequently cast toward the forest.
Even some of the men ga