Chapter 2

May 29th, 1777 - 3 weeks before.

"Mingo, Mingo, there's a letter! Mingo, there's a letter for you!" Israel was running out of breath. He was searching for Mingo by the river, where he had a small camp. Mingo had eaten breakfast with them, after a week of hunting with Daniel. They had come back in the very early dawn, exhausted from walking all night.

Cincinnatus stopped by the Boones' cabin as soon as he could. He was curious as a cat; it was, after all, the first time he had received a letter for Mingo. Just the name and Boonesborough on the seal. Mingo, Boonesborough. Whoever had sent this letter couldn't possibly be certain that Mingo would get it.

Daniel was chopping wood when Cincinnatus arrived, but Mingo was nowhere to be seen. Rebecca offered him a cup of tea while Israel was sent to deliver the letter to Mingo. Israel knew where Mingo made camp in the summer: by the river, 15 minutes away from their home.

Israel found Mingo there sitting on a rock, a line in the water, inattentive to it. The Cherokee was obviously enjoying the solitude and the sounds of the forest all around him. Israel didn't notice any of this, his excitement growing now that he was within sight of the letter's recipient.

"Israel, what did you say? A letter for me? Did I hear you correctly?" asked Mingo.

"Sit here with me and watch the line while I read this letter, will you?" he asked the child, knowing Israel would not leave anyway.

"Mingo, you gonna tell me about the letter?" Israel was all curiosity.

"Perhaps," was Mingo's answer. He lifted the wax seal easily with his fingers and opened the thin parchment within. As he read he frowned deeply, and smiled suddenly. There was joy in his eyes.

"Israel, an old friend of mine wishes to see me. A friend from a long time ago, before I knew your father," Mingo told the child. "Let's go see your father. I want to speak with him."

Israel lifted the line out of the water and let it lie in the bushes. Together, child and Indian walked toward the Boones.

"I didn't mean to be back so soon, Rebecca. I meant to go home, with a few fish for my supper," Mingo said sheepishly, as she was hanging clothes on the line outside.

"Well, we are all curious about this letter of yours, Mingo, not just Israel here. Daniel's inside with Cincinnatus," Becky said.

Mingo nodded, stepped onto the porch, and knocked once, before hearing Daniel's voice bid him welcome.

Cincinnatus was still sipping very cold tea; there was no way he would leave until he heard as much as possible about this letter. The older man seriously doubted that Mingo would share the contents of his letter, but it didn't deter him from hoping to learn something.

"Cincinnatus, Daniel!" Mingo called as he walked in, "Cincinnatus, Israel told me you made a special trip to deliver a letter. Thank you. Daniel, if I may have a word with you?"

Cincinnatus had no more reason to stay, he was politely dismissed. So he stood up, and graciously, if not happily, left Mingo and Daniel to their conversation.

As Cincinnatus left, both men waved. Mingo simply handed Daniel his letter.

"You sure you want me to read it? It's in your name, private and all," said Daniel.

"It will be easier than trying to explain," replied the Cherokee. "Henry is an old friend I never expected to hear from again," Mingo beamed.

Daniel looked up at him, Mingo was very pleased about this letter. He opened the folded piece of paper and read it silently.

"Well, Mingo, he knew you when you were dressing slightly different, am I right?" asked Daniel, knowing that if Mingo trusted him enough to let him read the letter, he would learn a little more about his friend's past. "And he intends to meet with you, shortly?" He waved a hand towards Mingo's clothes, hair, feathers. "Are you ready for him to see you as a Cherokee warrior?"

Mingo shook his head, "" Don't you think he sounds willing to accept me as I am?

"I think he sounds like he needs a trustworthy Indian for some reason."

"Well, that would be fine with me. What about you, Daniel?"

"Henry Hartford, son of Colonel Hartford. I believe I met the Colonel once. He was demanding but fair. When do you want to leave?" Daniel didn't hesitate.

"You just got home. Would two days be too early?" asked Mingo.

"We'll leave tomorrow afternoon. I'm very curious to meet this old friend of yours and find out why he needs the two of us, on behalf of his father."

The next afternoon, Daniel and Mingo left together. They would meet Henry Hartford in a camp he had prepared in a valley one day south of Boonesborough.