Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fiction based on the television show Daniel Boone. The characters belong to 20th Century Fox, Fespar Productions and the actors who made them. I make no money off of them.
Written in honor or Rebecca Boone's birthday, Jan. 9, 1739
Daniel Boone broke some ice on the creek bed in front of him, and shivered at the thought of how cold that water was going to be. It had snowed during the night, covering him and Mingo in a blanket of pure white. Snow was a funny thing he thought, as he dared one hand to scoop some of the water below. They had woken up as warm as if they had had a roaring fire, the snow adding heat to their blankets. But the same snow also made them freezing when they got up. Just one of God's unexplained miracles he reckoned.
"Are you planning to wash in the water or admire it?" Mingo hunched down beside him, boldly putting in both hands into the stream, bringing water so cold, you could see ice crystals in it, up to his face, letting out an 'ahhh, that's refreshing,' as he looked up at his friend and grinned.
"If I didn't know better, I say you were makin' fun of me." Daniel shook his head, his lips in a smile.
"I would never do that Daniel." the name tripped off the Cherokee's tongue in his broad English accent.
"No." his friend answered back, rolling his eyes. The frontiersman took a hasty toilet, then got up from his position, looking towards the mountains that rose majestically before them.
"Just a few more days." Mingo nodded, knowing his friend's thoughts. "I will admit to being glad to reach hearth and home, this time around."
Daniel nodded. "And the strange thing is, nothing too much happened. It's been pretty quiet."
"Most uneventful." Mingo agreed. "Looks like a good day to travel, but first may I suggest some breakfast?"
"Suggest away." Daniel grinned. "Is it my turn or yours?"
"I believe its yours," they both said at the same time.
"Don't matter none," the hunter said. "As long as we get something in our stomachs until we can get home to some real cookin'.
He started preparations for coffee, while Mingo mixed up batter for corn cakes. "We should be home by tomorrow night." the native said as he took the first golden cake out of the pan, too anxious to wait for it to cool, he took a huge bite, burning his tongue in the process.
"That's what happens when you get grabby." Daniel Boone teased him, looking at the next one with eagerness. He and Mingo were fairly good cooks but it was hard to be happy with their meager fare, this close to Boonesborough and Becky's cooking. There was hardly anyone in the world that could match Rebecca Boone's cooking, and that including his mother, Daniel thought warily. Not that he would ever tell her that, if he had the chance.
They sat drinking the hot coffee and munching on their corn cakes, Daniel seemingly lost in thought, Mingo watching his friend to see if he might tell what he was concentrating on so carefully. It wasn't like Daniel Boone to be preoccupied.
"Mingo." his friend began, then shook his head and started picking up the plates and cups from their breakfast.
"What is it Daniel?" he asked, his eyebrows arching up in question.
"Nothing important." the Pennsylvanian said, once more shaking his head.
"If you say so." the Cherokee grinned, "but it seems to be you've been somewhat contemplative this fine morning. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Well," he took a long breath and let it out slowly. "I just happened to think of something that could be kind of important."
"Yes." Mingo drew the word out, not sure if this was a good important or bad important, but ready to help regardless.
"Today is Becky's birthday."
"I would give that a relevance of importance." the other man nodded. "How can I help?"
"I'm not even sure what made me think of it, she's always fussin' I'd forget my head, if you didn't keep track of it." he paused for the effect he knew his words would have and was rewarded with the Cherokee's smile. "But it started gnawing on my mind sometime last night and this morning, I finally realized what it was. It's her birthday and I should get her something for it."
"Do you have anything in mind?" Mingo asked in a manner that overlooked the fact they were miles away from a store of any type and indeed were standing in the middle of virgin forest.
Another sigh. "I don't know. I really don't. I gave her a hunting knife last year," he recalled. "It was a beauty, finest quality blade. She seemed to like it."
"A woman can always use a good hunting knife." Mingo nodded, but something in his tone, made Daniel wonder if he wasn't making fun of him just a little. Still it was true, what woman wouldn't want a good hunting knife.
The finished their meal, packing up their things to continue the journey home. Most of what they carried in Daniel's sack were letters from family members back East, something that would be more precious than gold to the settlers of Boonesborough. He also had a few items that Cincinnatus had requested and knew the older man would be happy to receive. Their trap lines had not been tampered with, and the furs seemed to be good and silky this year--all in all in had been a most successful trip.
The snow melted quickly as they walked, a few brave birds coming out to see them, their songs a bright moment on a cold, gray day. They talked as they walked, mostly about their last venture into Salem and how nice it had been to see certain ones and not to see certain others. But eventually the conversation came back around to the question at hand--what to get Becky for her birthday.
"I'm not even sure what made me think of it." the frontiersman shook his head. "We make a big deal out of the children's birthdays and of course Becky and I give each other a gift at Christmas time but I will admit, I think I've forgotten more birthdays for both of us, then I've remembered."
"Is it a special birthday? Mingo asked, holding a tree branch back so they could pass more efficiently.
"As in, is she a certain age?" Daniel winked. "To tell you the truth, I don't think Becky's told me that much information, since I've known her. But my Pa always said never ask a woman how old she is or how much she weighs. And since my Pa was a pretty smart man, I tend to listen, when it suits."
"True enough." the native nodded.
They stopped for an afternoon meal around 1:00 according to the sun, dining on a rabbit, a few corn cakes and some more coffee. The sun felt good as they soaked it in and both were reluctant to get up and continue. It was only the thought of home and Rebecca's cooking that urged them on.
"Well, and a few other things about Becky too." Daniel winked as he hoisted his backpack on his shoulder.
"You are a very lucky man." Mingo said softly in a rare display of wistfulness. "Very lucky indeed."
"Yes, I am."
"Daniel?" Mingo looked over at him after a while. "Don't you have a delivery in that haversack to make at Harrod's Town?"
"I do." the taller man nodded. "I was thinking that we could just send it back with one of the fellows but we could just as easily, stop by. It might mean delaying our homecoming by a few hours."
"Perhaps it might be the best way to purchase a gift for your lovely wife's birthday. I'm sure a few hours wouldn't matter much in that light"
"I reckon you might be right."
Harrod's Town was technically the oldest settlement in Kentucky, founded by James Harrod, an adventurer. It had been planned to be the seat of the new colony of Transylvania, a place that never came to be, when the natives of the area, attacked the fort and massacred the inhabitants. The survivors had fled for their lives, but within a few months, were back and the fort was thriving once again.
The doors were open as they approached the fort, a dog coming out to greet them first.
"How can we help you?" a man drawing water from the well asked, looking somewhat warily at Mingo.
"I'm looking for a James Bledsoe." Daniel explained. "I have a package for him."
"Yonder." the man indicated towards the tavern. "You can't miss him, he's the shortest man in the place."
The place looked much like Cincinnatus's, and both men took seats at the counter.
"What can I get you?" the bar keep wiped his hands on his apron. He too looked warily at Mingo, but said nothing. It always amazed Daniel that such looks and accusations made him far angrier that it did his friend.
"We'd like a cup of something warm." the tall man replied and "I'm looking for James Bledsoe. I have a package for him, that I picked up in Salem."
"Hey Jimmy, package here for ya." the man hollered back, before placing steaming cups of coffee in front of the two customers. "Have I seen you before?" he asked Daniel, a question the frontiersman was asked often.
"You're Daniel Boone, ain't ya?" a man looking at bear traps, asked. "I'd recognize you any where."
"I am Daniel Boone." he nodded, "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm forgetting my manners. I'm Daniel and this is Mingo."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance." the Indian smiled and nodded, the look of shock on the man's face, worth the price of admission, Daniel thought.
James Bledsoe was indeed a short man, but as Daniel handed him the carefully wrapped package, he seemed big. "It's from my mother," he explained as he took the box, "and I can't thank you enough for toting it here for me, and bringing it by. I was expecting to go to Boonesborough for it, here in a bit when I had time."
"We were happy to bring it on in to you." Daniel finished his coffee, grateful to see the man coming with more. "But I will admit I had another reason for stopping by."
"What can we help you with Mr. Boone?" Bledsoe asked, looking as though he would do just about anything for him at this point. "My place is your place." and he made a bow.
"I'd like to look for a minute and see if you might have something, I could take home to my wife. It's her birthday today and I'd like to give her a small something for the occasion. And I was wondering, if anyone had any suggestions?"
"You can't go wrong with a good hunting knife." Bledsoe picked up a nice, shiny blade from a display on the counter. "And I'd throw in a free leather pouch."
"It is a beauty, but I got her one last year." the man shook his head.
"What about a skillet or a new pan?" the innkeeper asked, pointing to a nice variety of shiny iron cookware. Or if you're feeling rich, I have a nice pewter kettle, came all the way from Boston it did and would look right pretty on the table."
Daniel pondered that over for a minute, but decided against it. It just didn't seem right somehow.
"You can't go wrong with a pair of Long Johns." a man at the counter said. "Keep 'em warm in the wintertime, when you can't." he winked.
"No, I think Becky would prefer to do her own purchase of such things." Daniel shook his head. "But thank you for the advice."
You could always buy her some material, Daniel." Mingo fingered a piece of a rich blue cloth. "I don't know a woman yet who doesn't like a new dress."
"True enough. But, I don't know Mingo, that doesn't seem right either. I mean she gets the dress, but she has to do all the work and I'm the one who gets to enjoy it."
He listened to suggestions--a pancake turner, canning jars, a broom, a new washboard, cleaning cloths, candles, but each one sounded to plain and ordinary for his Becky.
"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "She did say she needed some new buckets and such."
And then he saw it. It was a beautiful Cameo pin, a delicate face etched into the ivory background. Mingo was standing beside it and he turned to look at it better when he saw Daniel's eyes light on it.
Daniel took a step closer, picking it up from its velvet box and holding the small thing in his huge hand. It wasn't practical and it wasn't necessary. You couldn't use it for much and most of the time, it would sit right there in that box, but he knew it was the perfect thing. And he had to have it. It was lovely and feminine, just like Becky. And that was something he so very often forgot to tell her.
"How much is this?"
"Do me a favor to take it." James Bledsoe told him as he took the box and put it in a linen bag for Daniel. "I've had it here for so long, I don't even remember where it came from." He handed it back and smiled. "Hope your wife has a happy birthday."
"You surely want something for it?"
"Wouldn't dream of it. Not after you hand delivered my package. Stop again next time you're out this way."
Daniel put the bag into the pocket of his buckskin jacket and kept feeling inside of it every so often to make sure it hadn't fallen out. He wasn't sure why but he had a feeling that Becky was going to love this gift.
She was outside gathering some wood when Daniel and Mingo approached the cabin a day and a half later, but it all fell to the ground when Daniel scooped her up in arms, swinging her around until she insisted to be let down.
"That you're way of telling me you are home, Mr. Boone?" she gave him a sly smile and accepted his kiss.
"It is indeed Mrs. Boone and before I forget "Happy Birthday."
He drew the bag out of his pocket slowly, watching her as she undid the laces and pulled out the black box. With what he thought looked like trembling hands, she opened it and then gasped as she saw the creamy pin laying in the smooth velvet.
"Oh, Dan." her voice cracked a little. "It's beautiful." She stared at it for several moments, then looked up at him and smiled. "It's probably the most beautiful thing, I've ever seen. Help me put it on?"
Now with his trembling hands, he helped her place the pin on at the top of her collar, standing back to see the effect of the pin against the yellow of her dress.
"That looks right nice." he said with a shy smile.
"Oh, I need to go look in the mirror." she said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. "Oh, thank you Daniel, it's perfect!" And she ran inside, not even seeing Mingo standing there.
The two men followed her inside where she was looking the broach in her small mirror, her face one big sun ball. "It's so pretty, Pa." Jemima greeted her father, while Israel, said it looked all right to him, but what do you do with it?
"You wear it." was Daniel's answer.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Then why did you get it, Pa?"
"Because, son." and he looked over at his beaming wife once more. "I think it's better than a hunting knife."