Boone's Reckoning

In the cool crisp of a moonlit December twilight under a cobalt blue sky, Daniel Boone loped through the dark shadows of a wood of ancient trees. With his flintlock gun cradled in his arms, a catch of game tied to a hemp rope across his back, he made no sound, but the soft crunch of fresh pine needles under his boots. The tall spruce pines rustled and moaned, swaying above his head in the cold wind urging him onward to the warmth of his hearth and the soft down bed that awaited him. The long hunter had been gone from home too long, longer than he planned or wanted to be away from his family. It worried and nagged his mind like a jagged splinter in the skin three days old.

He climbed the small rise that stood above his farm, and then eased down the moonlit side. When the cabin came into view, Daniel stopped cold. His jaws clenched, his hand moved to the trigger of his gun, his eyes darted over the scene before him as a deer alert to danger. Standing on the well-worn path, he waited for the deep voice of his native friend Mingo to greet him from the dark shadows; the man he trusted to watch over everything he held most dear in his absence. "Mingo?" he whispered. The silence of the surrounding wood made him shudder.

He gazed with longing upon the small farm rendered in shades of cool blue by the full moon and edged with the white of first snow. As familiar as his own hand, but something was missing. The lantern on the porch was dark that his wife Becky left lit when he was expected. Only the smell of burning wood and the wisps of blue smoke curling from the chimney, gave signs of life within the log structure.

Daniel edged to the cabin, staying in the shadows. He stepped on the porch and flinched at the groan and creak of the soft wood beneath his boot reminding him he had failed to replace those boards as promised, going on three months. He heard the wood latch rise and then the heavy door opened throwing a beam of warm light that engulfed him. The familiar face of his wife, though shadowed in orange hues by the candle light she held, gave him a momentary measure of warm relief.

"Dan, thank God you're home," Becky said with a stifled sob.

"What's wrong? Are the children—"

"No. The children are fine."

"Where's Mingo?"

A small white head forced itself between Becky and the door. "Pa! The pirates took Mingo!"

Daniel smiled. Another one of Israel's pretend games no doubt. His boy had an imagination like no other.

"Israel," Becky said, "get back in bed."

"But, Ma?"

"No 'buts' young man." With pursed lips, eyes unblinking, Becky punched out her left arm, forefinger extended towards the loft.

A hint of melancholy arose within Daniel. He felt as an intruder outside looking in. Quickly tamping down the lonely feeling to the place where he had learned to live with it, he swallowed a moan. He had only himself to blame, and the lonely way of life he had chosen--the long hunter.

"Ah, shucks, Ma." Israel bent his head and trudged back to the ladder that led to the loft.

Becky pressed her fingers to Daniel's chest. "Stay here, Dan." She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Holding the lamp in one hand, she pulled her shawl close at her neck.

The weary frontiersman reluctantly slipped the butt of his gun to the porch and leaned on it.

Traces of tears on Becky's soft cheek glistened in the lamplight. Daniel waited quietly for her to explain, though he longed to hold her close and kiss her soft lips. It puzzled him that she would keep him outside. Such a cold reception was not Becky's way.

"Mingo is gone, Dan," Becky said with a shiver. "Five men came this morning and took him away. They were foul men with wickedness in their voices."

Daniel stood erect, alarmed at Becky's words. "River pirates?"

"I don't know. They looked like animals."

"Did he know them?"

"No. He said he had never seen them and didn't like their looks. I tried to keep him from leaving the cabin, but he would have none of it. He made us hide in the root cellar."

"Were they white men? Did they say what their business was with Mingo?"

"I couldn't be sure of their race. They had hair on their faces, hideous strange clothing and swords. Best I could tell they wanted him to guide them to Shawnee Town."

"Shawnee Town? Mingo wouldn't go there of his own free will."

"That's what's so perplexing. Dan, I think they would have taken the children and me as well, if they had found us. We heard them marching about the cabin over our heads, cursing... When we returned to the cabin, they had left a foul odor behind. I feared to leave all afternoon and wouldn't let the children go outside. I pictured those beasts surrounding the farm. Oh, Dan, what does it mean? Mingo going to the Shawnee? They will kill him."

Daniel hoisted up Tick-licker and felt the stiffness in his weary body. He put his hand to the small of his back and stretched backwards to get the kinks out. "Well, I reckon I need to go after them. I'll head to the fort. See if anyone's seen any strangers. Only Cincinnatus knew that Mingo was here."

"You need supplies and rest."

"I can get both at the fort. I'll send Cincinnatus back here to stay until I return." Daniel reached his arm around his trembling wife and pulled her close. For a moment, she felt small and frail under his large hand like a lost bluebird in the snow—as he had known her when they first met—his little girl. He kissed her forehead and rubbed her back. Becky shook with her sobs. "Don't fret now," he whispered in her softly scented hair. "Nothing good comes of fretting."

"Dan, I'm afraid for you and Mingo."

"Now, Becky, there you go a-worrying afore you know all the facts. Perhaps they're creditors come to collect on a debt and they're just holding Mingo as collateral."

Becky pushed back and slapped her tall husband's chest, startling him. Her blue eyes sparked with fire from the candlelight. "Daniel Boone, how can you jest?"

"Ah now, Becky, I'm worried about Mingo, too, but he and I have been through many a scrape and we're both still walking this earth. Providence will take us when it's our time and not a day sooner." Dan reached out and smoothed Becky's hair, but her eyes remained angry. He sighed in resignation. "Go back inside, hon. You're freezing. Give me that lamp. I'm going to take a look 'round."

Becky handed the lamp to Daniel. "I believe what you say, Dan, but sometimes I think you test the Lord's will."

"Now hold on there, Becky, don't be getting all high and mighty on me. I was only trying to tease you out o' your worry. I never purposely set out to get myself kilt for goodness sake. Would you have me not go after Mingo just to save my own skin?"

Becky dropped her head. "Of course not, Dan. You must. It's just that…you've been gone so long. I've missed you. The children have missed you and now…I think those beasts that took Mingo are out to get you and it's not money they want, it's blood—" Becky's voice broke. She placed her hand to her mouth and whispered, "I don't know how much longer I can live like this."

"Becky? What—"

"I'm sorry, Dan." Becky wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled. "This is no time for me to torment you. Go—go help Mingo if you can. He's family." Becky put her hands to her face and broke into sobs again. "Oh, Dan, the thought of our dear Mingo in the hands of those beasts."

Daniel set his gun against the wall, hung the lamp on a nail, and wrapped his arms around his wife. He almost wanted to cry with her just because she was so overcome, but he didn't share her fear. Mingo was strong and smart and not that easy to take down or hold down for long. Becky had never seen the man in a fight and Daniel had wrestled with that Cherokee on more than one occasion.

"Becky, you've just been letting your thoughts go where they shouldn't go. Try to put it out o' your mind and get some sleep, all right?"

Becky pleaded with teary eyes as she fumbled with the top button on Daniel's fur-lined coat—the one that would never stay buttoned. "Please ask the men at the fort to help you. Yadkin is there. I know you don't feel it is right to do so, but you must this time. Accept their help if they offer it. You can't do this alone, Dan."

Daniel picked up his gun. He held Becky's small hand in his own for a moment then released her. He grabbed the lamp and stepped off the porch. Becky's words lingered in his mind …I don't know how much longer I can live like this…. He turned as his wife opened the door and stood in the dim orange light from within. Her silhouette reminded him that chasing after Mingo in the middle of the night was not the homecoming he had hoped for. "Becky?"

"Yes, Dan?"

"I've missed you and the children, too. You know that don't you?"

"I know, Dan. I'm so frazzled. Don't mind my words. Go now. Do what you must..."

"Keep the door barred. Don't open it for anyone but Cincinnatus."

Becky frowned with squinted eyes. "Of course, Dan."


Daniel entered the warm smoke-filled tavern and found Cincinnatus talking with a couple of strangers. His old friend, Yadkin, stood at the bar nursing a tankard. The tavern had the usual contingent of single men sitting about having their supper and yapping idlers. He knew them all. Cincinnatus glanced at Daniel and waved. "Be right with ya, Dan'l."

The gray-fringed tavern keeper turned back to the strangers, who looked to be city dwellers out for a hunt. "What did you say those fellers looked like, Dr. Cleves?"

"Well, sir, for aught I know, they were gypsies or…pirates. Colorful bands of cloth adorned their heads and gaudy clothes their bodies. Their faces were unshaven. Short swords swung from their hips. Some had large black boots; others were barefoot in the dead of winter. They smelled like the devil. It was not a sight I expected to behold in the middle of the Kentucky woods. I dare say it caught us quite off guard." The stranger chuckled. His voice carried the lilt of a Virginian.

Cincinnatus rubbed the gray whiskers on his chin. "There were a couple of strangers here this morning, but they didn't look like what you describe. Those fellers you're describing sound like river rats—lowest form of human in these parts. The men that came in this morning were a couple of clean-shaven city gents just like you two. They were looking for guides, didn't say exactly why. An older man and a youngin' about eighteen I'd say. I sent 'em out to the Boone cabin to talk to Mingo."

Daniel stepped to the bar. "Cincinnatus, you ever seen those men before?"

"One of 'em looked familiar like someone I've seen in Salem on occasion. He said his name was Breeden and that he knew you from way back."

Daniel's knees buckled, his weary legs gave way but he caught himself by the elbows on the bar.

"Dan'l, you all right?" Cincinnatus scurried out from around the bar, grabbed the tall frontiersman by the waist and led him to a chair.

Daniel took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know Breeden all right." He looked around and saw all eyes upon him. "I guess I'm just a mite tired."

"Well, I reckon so," Cincinnatus said, "you've been gone for days. What happened to ya?" Cincinnatus hurried back around the bar and poured a tankard of ale.

"I had to go farther than I expected to get enough food to bring back to Becky. I couldn't come home empty handed."

Cincinnatus returned with a pewter tankard. Daniel took it cautiously with both hands brushing his friend's hand. He set the drink on the table and stared at it.

"Dan'l your hands are like ice," Cincinnatus said. "How thick of me, I'll get you a hot rum." Cincinnatus scurried off again to make the rum. He called out over his shoulder, "You been walkin' all day and night?"

"Yep. I had to get home…but it wasn't soon enough." Daniel dropped his head into his hands and leaned his elbows on the table. He felt the walls of the tavern moving in.

Dr. Cleves leaned over him. "You appear quite fatigued, sir, if you don't mind my saying. I am a doctor of medicine."

The man's words were muffled to Daniel, as his head was pounding, but he caught the end. "A doctor you say? That's a good thing to be. We could use a doctor 'round here. Nearest one is in Harrodsburg…"

"We were just this moment, before you entered," Dr. Cleves said, "warning the proprietor that there was riff-raff in the area. We encountered them at a creek south of here. They had a native bound to a tree. It appeared that they were taking turns beating on him. Our appearance set them in agitation. They turned and advanced upon us, berating us with profanity, firing upon our backs. Percy came close to having his head blown off. Their monstrous growls and profanity yet ring in my ears." The doctor put a hand to his breast and sighed. "I need scarce say, it gave us both quite a fright."

"You're telling the right man there, Dr. Cleves," Cincinnatus called out. "That's Daniel Boone. He's our magistrate."

"So you are the famous Daniel Boone?"

Daniel looked up with weary eyes trying to focus on the older white-haired gentleman, but before he could answer, the man continued, "My name is Dr. Meriwether Cleves and this is my nephew, Percy. We reside in Williamsburg. Percy just completed his education at William and Mary, so I thought a romp in the wild would make a worthy memory to mark the momentous occasion. Thought we would come and check out this Kentucky that's been the talk of the town since you blazed the trail here. We were told it was the preeminent hunting country in the colonies."

Daniel reached out and shook each offered hand. The hands were soft, the handshakes limp. The men wore fine English hunting attire. "Glad to meet you, Dr. Cleves, and you as well, Percy. Welcome to Boonesborough. I thank you for the information. Can you show me on a map where you found those fellers and that native?"

"Certainly." Dr. Cleves reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded map.

"It do sound like a passel of snakes. You're not pondering going after 'em, are ya Dan'l?" Cincinnatus asked.

"Yep."

"Why in blazes would you do such a dad-blame fool thing in the middle of the night after you just got home?" the tavern keeper asked.

"That's Mingo they've got."

Yadkin spit out his mouthful of rum and turned to Daniel. "Mingo?"

Cincinnatus' face turned white. "Oh, my God." He sat down at the table across from Daniel with the rum forgotten in his hand. "I sent them out to the cabin."

The weary frontiersman gripped his old friend's arm. "It's all right, Cincinnatus. You had no way of knowing their true purpose. It was just a deception played upon you by a clever man."

"You shan't face those men alone, Mr. Boone?" Dr. Cleves asked. "Why there are more than a dozen of them and they are every bit as ferocious as a pack of wolves. Percy and I shall attend you, show you where we found them bivouacked and fain be of some assistance."

Daniel caught Yadkin rolling his eyes. "Thank you for the offer Dr. Cleves, but I can't let you risk your lives." He lowered his head. "This is my fault. Those men are after me and using my friend as bait. I can't ask anyone to risk his life to solve a personal problem."

"What are you talking about, Dan'l?" Cincinnatus asked.

"Breeden and Dan'l go way back, Cincinnatus," Yadkin said, "to the Carolinas and before. Breeden's a thiefin', lyin', murderin' Indian killer—"

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Ahner Breeden. The son of a wealthy tobacco planter, gone bad. He's got an old score with me. He blames me for the death of his son…in an Indian attack on the way to Kentucky. The Indians slaughtered his son, but they did the same to my boy, James. The man wasn't there, but he directed his anger at me. I was the guide. I was supposed to get those people here safely—all of them. Breeden was the evil his son was trying to escape…"

"What do you mean, Dan'l?"

"That tale'll have to wait, Cincinnatus. I've got to help Mingo. I hope to God it's not too late."

"Dan'l, what are you going to do?" Cincinnatus asked. "Just go let 'em kill ya? That won't save Mingo."

"If I could get Breeden by himself, we could have it out once and for all…"

"You have your family to consider," Cincinnatus said.

Daniel met his friend's worried eyes. "That man ain't going to leave my family in peace."

"There must be more to their grievance, Mr. Boone," Dr. Cleves said. "Those men were exceedingly angry. I do not see how they could all embrace such animosity for you. You would have thought they were guarding gold."

Daniel rubbed his temples trying to rid himself of the sudden pounding headache that had overcome him. "My guess is they were putting on a show to get you to come here and tell me what you saw. Did you overhear any of their conversation?"

"Yes. They wanted the native to take them to what I think I heard as 'the Shaw-nay'? He was refusing to do so. Is that a native tribe of the region?"

"They say anything about why they wanted to go to the Shawnee?" Daniel asked.

"No. To tell you the truth I heard that native's speech and was stunned. He did not sound like any Indian I have known—"

"He sounded like you, or any friend of yours in Williamsburg, didn't he?"

"Yes, perhaps a bit more northern, though. I have to admit, I was momentarily captivated by his voice, which almost resulted in my death."

Daniel chuckled. "It's Oxford, England. He was educated there."

Dr. Cleves jaw dropped. "Well, isn't that fascinating?"

"I've always thought so," Daniel said with a smile.

"Is he a friend of yours?" the doctor asked.

"Yep. A friend, no—a brother, really."

Dr. Cleves smiled at Percy. "See there, the man has made friends of the savages, and turned them to good purpose, just as the legends have told us."

Daniel reached back and rubbed the back of his neck, sure that he had felt his hair rise at the stranger's words. "Dr. Cleves, Mingo was a good man when I met him. If anything he has made me a better man."

The doctor swooned over Daniel. "Oh. Mr. Boone, I have misspoken and offended you. Please accept my deepest apology. I assure you I meant no disrespect towards you or your friend. It is just my ignorance—why I have nothing but ardent admiration for the natives of this land and the brave men and women that have struggled to tame—"

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Doctor," Daniel said as he patted the doctor's hand that had found its way to the frontiersman's shoulder. "I guess I'm being a mite touchy. Let's take a gander at your map."

"Of course, Mr. Boone." Dr. Cleves unfolded the fine parchment map and laid it out with care before Daniel. He pointed out the trail where they came across the men with Mingo.

"That's Bear Run creek, the other side of Hackberry Ridge," Daniel said. "Bear Run joins with Tate's Creek then heads northwest. That trail leads to Shawnee country."

"Maybe he thinks Mingo is a Shawnee," Yadkin said as he joined Daniel at the table and stood over him to look at the map.

Daniel wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt as if he was suffocating in the close quarters of the tavern and the people surrounding him. The bleak reality of the situation was settling in on him. Breeden was everything that Yadkin had said, a thiefin', lyin', murderin' Indian killer— Yadkin's words repeated over and over in Daniel's head, making him feel queasy sick. He was going to find Mingo dead or worse. He had to get moving before his fatigue and despair took over to render him impotent.

"Dan'l," Yadkin said, "no matter what their business with the Shawnee, it cain't be good. A bunch o' yahoo sailor pirates, or whatever they are, out in the woods might just touch off the Shawnee war to end all wars with Boonesborough the battleground."

Daniel winced at Yadkin's words, and braced for what he knew was coming.

A large-set man in the back of the room stirred. "What's this about a war, Boone?"

"Nothing to get in a bother about, Ned," Daniel said. "Not yet anyway."

"Your injun done got himself tangled up with the Shawnee has he?"

"No. An old friend of mine has come for a visit."

The man growled back, "Boone, seems like your personal problems always become our problems."

The other men in the tavern made sounds of agreement but averted their eyes from Daniel.

Cincinnatus stood up angry and faced the men with his fists on his hips. "Now see here, you men either volunteer to help Dan'l or mind your own bee's wax. You got no right to chastise, not one o' ya. Dan'l here would do for you if'n one o' your kin was taken by outlaws."

"That injun ain't Boone's kin. He's a Cherokee. Let the Cherokee save him."

A fist came down on the table before Daniel causing the tankard to jump. "You're all nothing but a bunch o' yellow-bellied cowards," Yadkin exclaimed in his slow drawl. "Dan'l, I'm goin' with you. I was headed back to Salem, but ain't no reason I cain't go with you instead."

"Yadkin, you wouldn't be admitting to a fondness for Mingo would you?" Daniel asked.

"Ah, now, that edjee-cated Cherokee grows on you all right, but I cain't let anything happen to you. You owe me near five dollars for our unexpected expenses in Salem last month."

"Suit yourself then." Daniel smiled at his friend. He knew Yadkin was covering for what he felt was an unmanly weakness to care about anyone. A thought raced across Daniel's mind that caused his heart to beat rapidly. "Yadkin, I'd rather you take a couple of canoes north on the river to where Tate's Creek joins the Kentuck. That trail from Bear Run crosses the river at that point. If I know Mingo, as long as he's a-breathing, he'll be taking those men the long hard way to Shawnee Town if not downright leading them in circles. The river is deep at that point with a deceptive treacherous undercurrent and a 400-foot cliff on the other side—a dead-end. Mingo would tell 'em it was fordable."

Yadkin nodded understanding. He frowned and gripped Daniel's shoulder. Then he bent down and spoke quieter than Daniel had ever heard Yadkin speak. "You sure you don't want me to go with ya? That's Mingo, Dan'l. What if…"

Daniel looked up into the trapper's concerned blue eyes. "I'll be all right, Yad. If you want to help, just do what I ask. If I flush 'em your way, you'll have your hands full, but if I fail, you're Mingo's only chance of being saved. You understand?"

Yadkin bit his lower lip and nodded.

Daniel stood and lifted Tick-licker to his shoulder. "Cincinnatus, I'll require some provisions. Can you put together a haversack for several days journey?"

The tavern keeper wrinkled his brow in worry. "Of course, Dan'l. You want me to stay with the family?"

"I'd be much obliged. Please don't tell Becky and the children everything you know. 'Specially don't mention the name Breeden. And if I don't return…"

Cincinnatus shook his gray head and beat his fists against his legs. "Yes, Dan'l, I know, but stop talking like that for Pete's sake. I feel awful about this. I ought to know a character better than that. I don't see how they had me so dad-blamed fooled."

As Daniel waited for the gear, Percy said in a whinny small voice, "Be wary of the wolves, Mr. Boone. They followed us all the way here. We saw their yellow eyes blinking in the forest."

Daniel turned, smiled and arched his brows, seeing Percy for the first time as a tall thin cut of a boy about Jemima's age. A tongue-tied scholar on a visit home from school. If anyone needed protecting in Kentucky, it was Percy Cleves—a strange lost bird. "They're hungry," Daniel said. "You probably noticed the game was a little less plentiful than the legend of Kentucky led you to believe."

"We didn't come across anything worthy of a shot," Dr. Cleves said.

"You see on my back all the game I could scare up in three weeks of hunting. A few rabbits and quail. The cold and the settlers' fondness for rabbit stew have depleted the wolves' food supply to near nothing."

Percy shivered. "I dare say I would not want to become their dinner. They would have you half torn up before you died."

"You men are new to the woods?" Daniel asked.

Dr. Cleves smiled sheepishly. "I suppose you can spot what you call a 'greenfish' two miles away, Mr. Boone."

Yadkin threw his blond shaggy head back and bellowed in laughter. "Greenfish? Now ain't that enough to make a dog laugh—"

Daniel stared Yadkin down. The big trapper dropped his head, pulled his cocked hat down over his face and hugged himself as he tried not to burst out laughing all over.

Dr. Cleves did not seem to notice Yadkin's discomfort—he went right on talking. "The only creatures that might bite you in the woods about Williamsburg are the squirrels and they are not so inclined, though they do have a fierce bark."

Daniel almost laughed but managed to contain it. "Please don't take offense, Doctor," he said, "I don't mean none, but you really ought to have a guide when you go a-huntin' in these Kentucky woods."

"Yes, Mr. Boone, I am in full agreement. Percy and I have learned that lesson the hard way. I thought maybe there would be some danger of an altercation with Indians or wild beasts. That rare but rewarding experience that makes the heart beat wildly in the breast. I thought it would be advantageous to young Percy here." Dr. Cleves raised his hand in the direction of his nephew and looked as if his meaning ought to be clear. "I never considered the possibility of white men savages."

"You two best stay here at the fort till I get back," Daniel said.

Daniel put the haversack strap over his head and shoulder. He tipped his coonskin cap at the strangers. "Good meeting you fellers. When I return I'll buy you a round of drinks. I've a hankerin' to hear the news up Williamsburg way, if that's all right with you?"

"We would enjoy that very much," Dr. Cleves said with a smile. "Oh, and Mr. Boone?"

Daniel turned.

"Take care out there. May God go with you."

"I'll give that a hardy second," Cincinnatus said.

The tall long hunter nodded then pushed open the heavy wood door of the tavern allowing a swirl of cold wind to rush in and ruffle Percy's feathered blond hair. He ducked under the doorframe and slammed the door shut behind him.


"There goes the bravest man you will ever meet, Percy," Dr. Cleves said to his companion.

"Yes, sir, I hardily agree, Uncle Meriwether."

Dr. Cleves turned a narrow-eyed frown upon his nephew who was hugging himself.

"Mr. Yadkin," Dr. Cleves exclaimed. "Percy and I shall accompany you and assist in your endeavor."

Percy turned astonished wide blue eyes upon his uncle.

Yadkin studied the two overly dressed Virginians. He took note of their shiny new leather hunting boots, their woolen coats, matching vests and scarves. Their cocked hats of fine mink. "The last thing Dan'l needs is a couple o' greenhorn dandies runnin' 'round in the woods when he's a-trackin'. You two are gonna have to take your ad-VEEN-ture somewhere else."

"Mr. Yadkin, I can assure you, sir, that Percy and I are each quite skilled with a rifle. We have both served in the Virginia militia."

"So you can march in formation, but can you paddle a canoe?" Yadkin asked.

"Certainly. We have a canoe tied at the dock behind this fort."

"All right then. 'Natus, you still got them turkey feathers, red paint and wampum you so foolishly traded your Blue Thunder for?"

"Sure do. Why?"

"I'm thinkin' me and these boys need us a de-sguise if we're gonna paddle north on the Kentuck. I cain't take these peacocks out there to be plucked like roastin' hens now can I?"

Cincinnatus put his hand to his chin and looked over Percy and Meriwether. "Well, I reckon not, Yadkin. Let me see what I can fetch up from my storeroom."