The Southerner | Page 9

er honey?"
"Yes, that's the way I found their home."

"But you had the daylight, mind ye! And Dan'l was in pitch black night,
but, sir, he made a bee-line through them dark woods straight for his
camp he'd left seven days afore. And, man, yer kin bet they made tracks
when they got clear o' the Redskins! Hit wuz six hours till day an' when
the Injuns waked they didn't know which way ter look----"
Tom paused and the Boy cried eagerly:
"Did they get there?"
"Git whar?" the father asked dreamily.
"Get back to their own camp?"
"Straight ez a bee-line I tell ye. But the camp had been busted and
robbed and the other men wuz gone."
"Gone where?"
Tom shook his shaggy head.
"Nobody never knowed ter this day--reckon the Injuns scalped 'em----"
He paused again and a dreamy look overspread his rugged face.
"Like they scalped your own grandpa that day."
"Did they scalp my grandpa?" the Boy asked in an awed whisper.
"That they did. Your Uncle Mordecai an' me was workin' with him in
the new ground, cleanin' it fur corn when all of a sudden the Injuns riz
right up outen the ground. Your grandpa drapped dead the fust shot, an'
Mordecai flew ter the cabin fer the rifle. A big Redskin jumped over a
log an' scalped my own daddy before my eyes! He grabbed me an'
started pullin' me ter the woods, an' then, Sonny, somethin'
happened----"
Tom looked at the long rifle in its buck's horn rest and smiled:

"Old 'Speakeasy' up thar stretched her long neck through a chink in the
logs an' said somethin' ter Mr. Redskin. She didn't raise her voice much
louder'n a whisper. She jist kinder sighed:
"Kerpeow!"
"I kin hear hit echoin' through them woods yit. That Injun drapped my
hands before I heerd the gun, an' she hadn't more'n sung out afore he
wuz lyin' in a heap at my feet. The ball had gone clean through him----"
Tom paused again and looked for a long time in silence into the
glowing coals. The little cabin was very still. The Boy lifted his face to
his mother's curiously:
"Ma, you said God counted the beat of a sparrow's wing?"
"Yes."
"Well, what was He doin' when that Indian scalped my grandpa?"
The mother threw a startled look at the bold little questioner and
answered reverently:
"Keeping watch in Heaven, my Boy. The hairs of your head are
numbered and not one falls without his knowledge. We had to pay the
price of blood for this beautiful country. Nothing is ever worth having
that doesn't cost precious lives."
Again the cabin was still. An owl's deep cry boomed from the woods
and a solitary wolf answered in the distance. The Boy's brow was
wrinkled for a moment and then he suddenly looked up to his father's
rugged face:
"And what became of Dan'l Boone?"
"Oh, he lit on his feet all right. He always did. He moved on with Stuart,
built him another camp in the deepest woods he could find and hunted
there all winter--jest think, Boy, all winter--every day--thar wuz a man
that wuz a man shore nuff!"

"Yes, sirree!" the listener agreed.
The mother lifted her head and thoughtfully watched the sparkling
eyes.
"And do you want to know why Daniel Boone was great, my son?" she
quietly asked.
"Yes, why?" was the quick response.
"Because he used his mind and his hands, while the other men around
him just used their hands. He learned to read and write when he was a
little boy. He mixed brains with his powder and shot."
"Did he, Pa?" the questioner cried.
The father smiled. He could afford to be generous. The Boy looked to
him as the authority on Daniel Boone.
"Yes, I reckon he did. He wuz smart. I didn't have no chance when I
wuz little."
"Then I'm going to learn, too. Ma can teach me." He leaped from his
father's lap and climbed into hers. "You will, won't you, Ma?"
The mother smiled us she slowly answered:
"Yes, Honey, I'll begin to-morrow night when you get back from
hunting."
VI
Slowly but surely the indomitable will within the Boy's breast
conquered the cries of aching muscles, and he went about his daily
farm tasks with the dogged persistence of habit. He had learned to
whistle at his work and his eager mind began to look for new worlds to
conquer.
At the right moment the tempter appeared. It rained on Saturday and

Austin, his neighbor, came over to see him. They cracked walnuts and
hickory-nuts in the loft while the rain pattered noisily on the board roof.
Austin had a definite suggestion for Sunday that would break the
monotony of life.
"Let's me