ache.”

“But Sandy, you must try to forget all that,” returned Bob, who often found it necessary to restrain his impatient young brother. “You are needed at home, for father is not able to hunt and trap, besides taking care of his crops. Nobody in the whole settlement brings in as much game as you do. Wait a few years, and then, when we are grown men, perhaps we may strike out for that country you have been hearing so much about; where De Soto discovered the greatest of rivers, and lies buried under its waters.”

Sandy sighed again.

“I suppose I must wait, just as you say, Bob,” he observed, “but it may not be for years, as you seem to think. Already some of the men are beginning to talk of making a flatboat, and floating down the Ohio until they reach the father of all the waters. They do not like the idea of the rascally French taking possession of all that fine land, which is a part of our own Virginia. And it may not be so very long before we will lose some of our people in that way.” (Note 1.)[3]

These brave men, who had already successfully braved the dangers that beset them on their journey across the mountains to the Ohio valley, had heard stories from the lips of trappers who had penetrated far into the western land in pursuit of the rich skins of otter, beaver, fox, mink and marten. When their crops failed to turn out as well as they had anticipated, a spirit of unrest began to pervade the little community; and these wonderful tales were repeated, from lip to lip, always with a longing to obtain a glimpse of the country that offered such astonishing opportunities.

It was this spirit of unrest that peopled our great West. Those who found themselves out-distanced in the race, unwilling that others should get ahead, gave up their holdings, partly improved as they might be, and once more started out to get in the van of the procession headed toward the setting sun.

“Do you think we will have any trouble getting back to the other shore of the river, this afternoon?” Sandy asked, after they had walked along for a few minutes in silence, headed for the first of their traps.

“I admit that I don’t just like the way we were buffeted around on the voyage over,” replied Bob; “and, if the waters keep on rising to-night, as I think they are going to, we will not be able to visit our traps on this side for several days.”

“Then had we better take them along with us?” asked Sandy.

“No, they would bother us in the dugout,” replied Bob; then, noticing the quick glance his brother shot in his direction, he added: “Yes, I am figuring on the chance of our boat being upset in the flood; and, if that happened, we’d have all we could do to save ourselves and our guns, let alone half a dozen heavy traps. They can stay here until we find a chance to cross again, after the water goes down.”

“But, I wonder if Colonel Boone knew about such a thing as a flood when he led us to where the settlement now stands?” remarked Sandy, with a frown. “Because, if the water rises very much more, we, as well as some of the other settlers, stand to lose our cabin. Already the water has covered the land where open fields lay, ready to be planted in maize this spring. All Mr. Bancroft’s new fence has been taken down, to save it from being swept away.”

“No, I do not believe such a rise has been known for many years,” Bob went on to say. “You know how it flows between banks that are covered with trees. These countless hills are crowned with great forests, and under the trees the ground is carpeted with moss and dead leaves. This is like a great sponge, father says, that soaks up the water during rainy seasons, and lets it out again in time of drought. I heard him say only this morning that the Indians never knew of a flood like this one. They believe that the Great Spirit is angry because they have not driven the palefaces from Kentucky. And there will be a renewal of the fighting, after this rainy spell is over, he fears.” (Note 2.)

“Well, here’s where we set our first trap,” Sandy cried. “And the next is only a short distance along the trail. I’ll take a look at this one, while you go on and attend to the next.”

“That is the best way, Sandy,” returned Bob, with a quick glance toward the darkening heavens. “I do not like the looks of those clouds, and it may be that the rain will set in again. If that happens, we would find it all we could do to make a safe passage across the river, for the darkness will fall early to-night.”

“And we must not forget to keep our eyes open for a sight of those rascally French trappers, Jacques Larue and Henri Lacroix,” remarked Sandy, with a suggestive movement of his gun. “They have been reported as being seen not far away from here of late, and you know, Bob, they have never forgiven us the way we managed to outwit Larue last fall, and bring Henri Lacroix’s brother to justice.”[4]

“But they also know,” Bob replied, “that because you and I were able to do the great Indian sachem, Pontiac, a favor, he gave us his wampum belt, which has served to keep the Indians who were on the war-path away from our little settlement. Those Frenchmen understand that, if either of us were hurt, the Indians would visit vengeance on the head of the guilty party. Larue learned that before he escaped from the Indians.” (Note 3.)

The boys had learned that Jacques Larue had loosened his bonds and escaped from his Indian captors through the connivance of a young buck for whom he had once performed some service, and was again free to work with Henri Lacroix such damage against the latest English settlers as their evil minds might suggest.

“I am convinced it was they who robbed our traps several times this winter, so that we had to change their location,” Sandy declared, indignantly. “And, when that brush was piled up against our cabin, that dark night, and fired, did we not find tracks that were never made by Indian feet? I seem to feel that we have not seen the last of those French trappers. And Pat O’Mara told me that, if ever I had to shoot to defend myself against either of them, to get the full value of my lead!”

“Well, let us hope that they will go elsewhere, and do their trapping,” said Bob, as he turned and left his brother. “I think it is a great pity that, with a string of trading posts all the way from the big lakes down to the sea, these greedy French from the North cannot let us alone here. They seem to want the earth. But I’ll wait for you at the second trap, Sandy. Be as quick as you can.”

Sandy made no reply, but hastened forward to where they had set the first trap. He was filled with thoughts of the stories he had heard connected with the Mississippi country, and he pictured in his mind the loveliest scene that could ever