Chapter 1
The two men stood silhouetted against the cloudless May sky. Before them stretched the vast Kentucky forest. The high ridge was bare of trees, the limestone rocks jutting from the fragile soil. Alone together for the first time, they felt a little uncomfortable. Always before Daniel had been with them. But the afternoon before they left on the planned hunting trip Daniel injured his knee. He was wading across a little stream with a string of fish in his left hand and his rifle in his right. Tipped off balance by a slippery rock, he caught his weight on his left knee and wrenched it badly. Rebecca refused outright to hear of him walking anywhere. So Yadkin and Mingo left the following morning without him, promising to bring him the biggest bear in the wilderness.
The strain between them was the result of Yadkin's offhand speech during a conflict concerning Mingo's adopted cousin Tekawitha. In the excitement of the moment Yadkin pronounced Indians untrustworthy and dishonorable people. The words cut deeply into Mingo's proud heart. He had forgiven Yadkin, but had not forgotten the painful words. Yadkin understood the source of the unease but did not know how to approach the subject and apologize to his companion. So the healing words remained unspoken and the rift between the two men remained.
They walked easily through the dense forest. Both men were hardy, healthy souls and used to the wilderness. Their planned destination was only a day's journey from Daniel's front door. Last fall Daniel and Mingo had seen the large black bear's lair as they sought a good trapping site. They had marked the location and decided to return in the late spring to bag the animal. His hide would make a warm bed covering for Mingo's lodge and the meat would feed the Boone family and their friend Yadkin for a month. The fat would serve as cooking oil for Rebecca. The teeth and claws would adorn Mingo's Cherokee nephews and nieces. And the men's time together was a necessary strengthening of trust and reliability.
As the evening light began to fade through the tall trees Mingo touched Yad's arm and pointed to a natural glen encompassing nearly an acre. Yadkin nodded and stepped to Mingo's left to pick up a load of firewood. Mingo continued on and dropped his pack, shot pouch and powder horn. He leaned his rifle against a nearby oak and began to build a fire ring. Ten minutes later Yad returned with the wood and knelt to kindle a fire. Mingo took the coffee pot and backtracked a quarter of a mile to the deep clear stream they had crossed only minutes before. When he returned with the pot Yad had a good fire crackling within the stone fire ring.
"How does a fish dinner sound?" MIngo asked his companion.
"Sounds good to me. I'll help you. And I'll bet you that I catch the first fish, too."
Mingo prided himself on his fishing ability and accepted the challenge. In less than thirty minutes he proudly held the first catch aloft. The ten-inch trout twisted in his hand as Yadkin growled his disgust.
"Alright then Mingo, I'll just have to catch a bigger one to beat you."
Before the darkness closed in the two men had caught five trout, plenty for their dinner. They stepped silently back into their camp and each man cleaned his catch. Yadkin's one fish was nearly roasted before Mingo got his four cleaned. Smiling to himself, Mingo spitted his four fish and handed one to Yadkin.
"Well, alright then Mingo, if'n you don't think you can eat four I reckon I can help you out." Yad's voice betrayed his chagrin and Mingo's smile grew wider. He made a mock bow in Yad's direction.
"Thank you so much Mr.Yadkin. I would hate to retire for the night with a bellyache from too much dinner."
Through narrowed eyes Yadkin threw a doubtful glance in Mingo's direction. Though he had known the Cherokee for many months he still didn't quite know whether the man was making fun of him or not. He mumbled under his breath as he scooted away with the raw fish balanced on the end of the sharpened stick.
Mingo propped his three sticks against the fire ring stones and sat back a few feet from the fire. In the firelight he could see Yadkin's expression. His own face relaxed and he hid behind an expression of careful disinterest. But he knew that Daniel's old friend did not fully trust him. And he was surprised that the knowledge hurt.
The early morning light illuminated the tree tops as Mingo opened his eyes to greet the day. Across the camp Yadkin lay on his back snoring lightly. Mingo silently sat and looked at the blonde frontiersman. Daniel held the man in high esteem, and Mingo knew that Daniel did not elevate many men to that position. There must be something in the man that Mingo did not see. Perhaps he would some day. With that thought the tall Cherokee rose and stretched, then walked a few paces to the east to greet the day.
Behind his back Yadkin opened his bright blue eyes and stared thoughtfully at the tall Cherokee's back. He knew that Daniel valued the man's friendship highly. He had proven himself trustworthy time and time again, yet Yad couldn't quite bring himself to trust the Indian. Maybe he would some day. With that thought the tall frontiersman sat and stretched as Mingo came back to the camp and stirred the fire.
"I am afraid that we managed to consume all the fish last night, so our breakfast is going to be rather meager. Does coffee and jerky meet with your approval?"
Yadkin stared at Mingo for several seconds. "Why do you talk like that? Air you tryin' to make me feel stupid or somethin'? There's nobody here to show off for."
Mingo's expressive face smoothed itself into a mask. His dark eyes smoldered with anger which he bit back behind his wide lips. He swallowed and replied, "I delight in the sound of language, Yadkin. Please forgive me if it offends you. I will endeavor to restrain myself in the future."
Angrily Yadkin grabbed the coffee pot and shoved it into his pack before Mingo could take it to make coffee. He rose, grabbed his rifle and gear, then stalked wordlessly into the nearby forest. Mingo remained kneeling before the revived fire, his teeth clenched with his own anger. He took several pieces of jerky from his pack and sat alone, eating. The sun rose through the trees and still he sat. Suddenly the morning quiet was shattered by the distant bark of a rifle. Mingo quickly packed and trotted toward the sound.
After little more than a mile he found Yadkin gutting the large black bear. He stopped several feet away and watched the other man expertly remove the intestines and stomach. Yadkin moved with no wasted motion, years of experience guiding his hand. Mingo turned and searched the forest for a sapling the right size to use as a carrying pole. Using his hatchet he chopped a two-inch elm and trimmed the pencil-thin branches. Yadkin finished cleaning the carcass before Mingo brought the pole. He was standing and watching as the other man approached. The bitter words continued to spill from his heart.
"This here is my kill. I claim the meat and the hide. You go get your own hide if'n you want one." He made no move to take the pole from Mingo's hand. The two men stood and looked into each other's eyes for several seconds. Mingo blinked hard and turned away, dropping the pole at Yadkin's feet. Within only a dozen heartbeats he disappeared into the thick forest. Seconds later even the sound of his footfalls ceased. Yadkin stood alone with the large carcass at his feet and the bright May sunlight slanting through the trees all around him.