"Davy," said he, "when you are grown you shall not stay at home, I
promise you. Take your mare and ride as for your life to McChesney, and
tell him to choose ten men and go to the Crab Orchard on the Wilderness
Road. Tell him for me to turn back every man, woman, and child who tries
to leave Kentucky."

I met Tom coming in from the field with his rawhide harness over his
shoulders. Polly Ann stood calling him in the door, and the squirrel
broth was steaming on the table. He did not wait for it. Kissing her,
he flung himself into the saddle I had left, and we watched him mutely as
he waved back to us from the edge of the woods.

* * * * * * *

In the night I found myself sitting up in bed, listening to a running and
stamping near the cabin.

Polly Ann was stirring. "Davy," she whispered, "the stock is oneasy."

We peered out of the loophole together and through the little orchard we
had planted. The moon flooded the fields, and beyond it the forest was a
dark blur. I can recall the scene now, the rude mill standing by the
water-side, the twisted rail fences, and the black silhouettes of the
horses and cattle as they stood bunched together. Behind us little Tom
stirred in his sleep and startled us. That very evening Polly Ann had
frightened him into obedience by telling him that the Shawanees would get
him.

What was there to do? McAfee's Station was four miles away, and Ray's