Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-06-12
CHAPTER XXVN.

Together, silent, in darkness and without a fire, Daniel Boone and Owa- toga sat istening-conscious of dan ger, alert, but unafraid. Their hid ing-place was sheltered, but no spot was proof against the brand or bull let, and the Indians were on their track. Owatoga had reconnoitered, and in the early dusk. himself undiscov- ered-had come upon group of them in secret council. They knew this was the right trail-they would follow 1t with all cunning and persistence; they would not abandon the quarry now almost lured.
 Daniel Boone received the news in silence; finally he glanced up from his carving to say: Daniel Boone has tired them out before; he can do it again. We are together this time. Owatoga; we can stand 1t as long as they can."
 He resumed his work. and quiet reigned. One by one the stars came out, until across the zenith shone long arcs of light, forming bridge above their heads with the giant pines for pillars. On a sudden the quiet was broken-the sounds were faint at first then louder and louder, until to their ears was plainly borne the noise of men in fight. The crack of rifles, the tumult of voices, all the indis- tinguishable sounds which. in their very vagueness. carry so much of sinister import.
 boone and the Indian stood erect, their rifles directed towards the open- ing in the grove. They exchanged not word. Neither was given to speech both knew how to wait. The din sound ed nearer. and then ceased as suddenly as it commenced. There was a sound of men in retreat, which distance quickly stifed. then all was still.
 But the quiet was brief Again voices were heard. but this time there was no clamor. no note of alarm. Only muttered sounds. and scraps of disjointed talk. The speakers drew nearer 10 where the watchers peered into the dark. At last a white some thing futtered in the trees. and cheery hailoos sounded.
 "A truce!" and slowly Boone's rife dropped.
 Then a familiar voice reached owa- toga's ears; tone which awakened re- sponse in the stoIcaI breast. and his gun, too. fell at his side. "Owatoga. it is I. Winslov.'
 There were shouts of greeting. and torches waved above the heads of band of men who came slowly forward. a search party of the villagers led by Winslow.
 In their midst they carried litter. whereOn lay a man. face downward, as if 10 hide from even the pitying gaze of the stars Two or three oth- CTS limped along, groanins. between their companions. Confusion fol- lowed. and in the excitement. one fact alone vas clear. The relief party. with Rev. Luke al it's head. had come. without warning. upon the besiegers. and routed them after a sharp fight. To each man. in his version of the fray. Boone lent ears willing. yet tingliug with discontent that he could know of it but as a tale rehearsed.
 T thank you all from the bottom of thisold heart. he said. My heart. which leaps yst a, thought of this nights danger lis the worst of old age, that ne must let others do for us: that others must risk their lives for ours ours. that are not worth the trou- ble.- hs ended. bitterly.
 He moved 10 the litter that hsd been placed near a nex-bzilt fire The suf- fersrs head was svafhed in a rude bandags. but as Boone sppruachei. the eyes opened-eyes large. giittsrinz and dark as tks night rhsrh- for them 10 more cozh star DOT fire naks brisht