THE PHANTOM OF THE RIVER

CONTENTS.

I. LONGING FOR NIGHT

II. THE CAWING OF A CROW

III. THE HALT IN THE WOODS

IV. ON THE EDGE OF THE CLEARING

V. DARING AND DELICATE WORK

VI. THE RIGHT OF EMINENT DOMAIN

VII. A QUESTION OF OWNERSHIP

VIII. BY THE WAY

IX. THE "ACCIDENT"

X. AT RATTLESNAKE GULCH

XI. WATCHING AND WAITING

XII. CARRYING THE WAR INTO AFRICA

XIII. UNKIND FATE

XIV. THE INTRUDER

XV. A DARK PROSPECT

XVI. SIMON KENTON IN A PANIC

XVII. A RUN OF GOOD FORTUNE

XVIII. "IT'S AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NOBODY ANY GOOD"

XIX. A FELLOW-PASSENGER

XX. WAR'S STRATEGY

XXI. THE PHANTOM OF THE RIVER

XXII. PUTTING OUT FROM SHORE

XXIII. THE SHAWANOE CAMP

XXIV. THE FORLORN HOPE

XXV. FACE TO FACE

XXVI. IN THE LION'S DEN

XXVII. THE LAST RECOURSE

XXVIII. THE RETURN

XXIX. SQUARING ACCOUNTS

XXX. CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I.

LONGING FOR NIGHT.

"I think there's trouble ahead, Dan'l."

"There isn't any doubt of it, Simon."

The first remark was made by the famous pioneer ranger, Simon Kenton,
and the second fell from the lips of the more famous Daniel Boone.

It was at the close of a warm day in August, more than a century ago,
that these veterans of the woods came together for the purpose of
consultation. They had threaded their way along parallel lines,
separated by hardly a furlong, for a mile from their starting-point,
when the above interchange of views took place.

Boone had kept close to the Ohio while stealthily moving eastward, while
Kenton took the same course, gliding more deeply among the shadows of
the Kentucky forest until, disturbed by the evidence of danger, he
trended to the left and met Boone near the river.

The two sat down on a fallen tree, side by side, and, while talking in
low tones, did not for a moment forget their surroundings. They had
lived too long in the perilous wilderness to forget that there was never
a moment when a pioneer was absolutely safe from the fierce or stealthy
red man.

"Dan'l," said Kenton, in that low, musical voice which was one of his
most marked characteristics, "this 'ere bus'ness has took the qu'arest
shape of anything that you or me have been mixed up in."

"I haven't been mixed up in it, Simon," corrected Boone, turning his
somewhat narrow, but clean-shaven face upon the other, and smiling
gently in a way that brought the wrinkles around a pair of eyes as blue
as those of Kenton himself.

"Not yet, but you're powerful sartin to be afore them folks reach the
block-house."

THE PHANTOM OF THE RIVER