The Faint-Hearted Return

During this evening the men began to talk of going back to the Yadkin. All save my father and Mr. Boone appeared to think it useless to travel farther toward Kentucky, for it seemed certain that the Indians were on the warpath and that it would be inviting death to continue the journey.

While they talked the matter over, some of the people being especially fearful lest the Indians make another attack at once, a company from the valley of Virginia arrived on their way across the Gap, and halted in alarm on learning of the murders. It seemed as if the stronger we grew in numbers, the greater became the terror of all, and the more reason why every attempt to get into Kentucky should be abandoned.

Mr. Boone declared flatly that he would take his family to the Clinch River and remain there until he could know what the savages were about, rather than go back to the Yadkin, and my father pledged himself to do the same, despite all that the strangers and our old neighbors could say against it.

Two days passed before the question was finally settled, and then all the men, with their families, save only Mr. Boone and my father, set off on the backward trail, leaving us alone. It made me homesick to see them marching away, while we remained in the very midst of the savage Indians; but not for worlds would I have admitted that I felt sad because of the parting.