have behaved yourself like a man, today--indeed, you
are a fine fellow."

It was a great tribute from Daniel Boone.

However, even the excitement of the daily life at Boonesborough palled
on young Simon Kenton-Butler or Butler-Kenton. He was the restless
kind. When danger did not come to him, he went out to seek it. He
delighted in the daring foray and in spy work. A narrow squeak was a
joke to him. The greater the risk, the more heartily he laughed about
it.

The two Indians whom he had tumbled from their frisky pony at one shot,
near Paint Creek, and the whish of the bullet grazing his head, and his
dive for a tree, only whetted his appetite for more fun; consequently
when the Daniel Boone party turned about, he and his comrade Montgomery
lingered, to experiment with Paint Creek town itself.

All the rest of that day they hid in the corn-field on the edge of the
town, waiting for Indians to appear and gather roasting-ears. That was
sheer nerve; they were in the heart of the Indian country and more than
one hundred miles from any protection except their own wits and their
rifles. But they saw no Indians other than a few little children. The
town certainly was deserted for the war trail.

Therefore at dusk they slipped into the town, stole four horses, led
them out, mounted two, drove the others, rode all night, to the Ohio
River, swam it, and avoiding the trail of the Indian army to
Boonesborough galloped gaily into Logan's Station beyond the Kentucky.

One scalp and four horses! Simon laughed easily. The trip had been
worth while.

He "loafed" only until the danger to Boonesborough was past. For that
space all the Kentucky forts sat tight. But Colonel John Bowman of the
militia was here, at Logan's. Boonesborough had come safely through
the red tempest; the Indians had retired; he planned a counter blow,
and wished to learn just what were the conditions at the Chief Black
Fish town of Little Chillicothe on the Little Miami River: whether it
was on guard, whether the warriors had left to strike at another point,
and so forth. That called for skillful work.

Who more willing to act the spy than the happy-go-lucky young giant,
fair-haired Simon Kenton alias Butler? With him he took his comrade
Montgomery again, and Ranger George Clark. Alas, it was to be
Montgomery's last outward trip. The Simon Kenton trail was always the
danger trail, and he made it doubly dangerous by his recklessness.

The