hundred
and fifty of their bravest warriors to attack Boonesborough. In that
fort were his wife and his children. Its capture would probably insure
their slaughter. He was aware that the fort was not sufficiently guarded
by its present inmates, and that, unapprehensive of impending danger,
they were liable to be taken entirely by surprise. Boone was
sufficiently acquainted with the Shawanese dialect to understand every
word they said, while he very sagaciously had assumed, from the moment
of his captivity, that he was entirely ignorant of their language.

Boone's anxiety was very great. He was compelled to assume a smiling
face as he attended their war dances. Apparently unmoved, he listened
to the details of their plans for the surprise of the fort. Indeed, to
disarm suspicion and to convince them that he had truly become one of
their number, he co-operated in giving efficiency to their hostile
designs against all he held most dear in the world.

It had now become a matter of infinite moment that he should immediately
escape and carry to his friends in the fort the tidings of their peril.
But the slightest unwary movement would have led the suspicious Indians
so to redouble their vigilance as to render escape utterly impossible.
So skilfully did he conceal the emotions which agitated him, and so
successfully did he feign entire contentment with his lot, that his
captors, all absorbed in the enterprise in which they were engaged,
remitted their ordinary vigilance.

On the morning of the sixteenth of June, Boone rose very early to take
his usual hunt. With his secreted ammunition, and the amount allowed him
by the Indians for the day, he hoped to be able to save himself from
starvation, during his flight of five days through the pathless
wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and sixty miles between
Old Chilicothe and Boonesborough. The moment his flight should be
suspected, four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance,
and in perfect preparation for the pursuit, would be on his track. His
capture would almost certainly result in his death by the most cruel
tortures; for the infuriated Indians would wreak upon him all their
vengeance.

It is however not probable that this silent, pensive man allowed these
thoughts seriously to disturb his equanimity. An instinctive trust in
God seemed to inspire him. He was forty-three years of age. In the
knowledge of wood-craft, and in powers of endurance,