Just after dawn, Pa noticed the Indian canoe following the flatboat.  There was just one Indian in it staying well out of rifle range, but every now and then he would raise his paddle and shout at them.

"It be an Injun trick,"  Uncle Chad told them. "They put a harmless lookin' feller out there screechin' for help. The folks on the boat feel sorry for him and maybe come ashore to take him aboard.  The other Injuns are waitin' and..."  He made a gesture with his forefinger along the edge of his hair and a little scrinchy noise with his lips.  Jenny felt of her own red hair and shuddered.

"You young'uns get into the cabin,"  Pa said, "If there's shooting, you'll be safer."

In the stuffy cabin, the five year old twins, unworried, fell asleep like two pups, all on top on one another, but Dan'l, who was already ten, wriggled around the axe and the hoe and the bags of corn and gourds full of seeds.  He pushed past the plough to the back wall of the cabin where he could peek through a knothole.

"He keeps waving his paddle and shouting...what if he does need help?"

"Uncle Chad's been down the river before and he knows what we should do," said Jenny.

"Well, I don't see any other Injuns waiting for us on shore!"

"'Course not.  They're hiding in the woods waiting to scalp us when we land."  She twisted a copper curl.

The children heard the creak of the longhorn oars on the flat roof, worked by Pa and the Uncles to keep the Betsy on the current and away from snags and sandbars.  Horses stamped heavily in their stalls and chickens clucked and murmured.

They had played all the quiet games they knew but the little boys were beginning to stir and Dan'l looked as though he could fly to Limestone plumb by himself.

"Let's play a new game," said Jenny.  "It's called "What shall we take to Kaintuck" and everyone must tell what they would like to take to Kentucky but it has to be small enough to fit in..."  she looked around and reached for a small wooden bucket which had a stave that extended beyond the edge for a handle, "...small enough to fit in a piggin."

"An' everyone has to say what the others are taking and add something else every time he has a turn,"  added Dan'l with a spurt of interest.  I'll go first because I want to take a piggin full of meat from the buffalo I'm going to get when Pa takes me hunting."

The twins sat in front of Jenny's chair alike as a couple of chipmunks.  Each added something.  Luke, always hungry, thought of wild strawberries.  Noah, dreamy eyed, chose a piggin of shiny stones from the river.  Jenny tried to think of what she would need most in the new land of Kentucky.

"I'll take buffalo meat, strawberries, shiny stones and a piggin of...courage," she said.

"You can't put courage in a piggin," scoffed Dan'l.

Ma had come into the cabin from her watch for sandbars and snags at the front of the boat.  "We can all use a piggin of courage, I reckon."  She smiled, but Jenny knew there were worry feelings underneath.

"Mine's near empty by now," whispered Jenny.

"Courage is like loving.  It's a God gift and He always gives us as much as we need whenever we need it. "  Ma touched Jenny's shoulder as she spoke.

Jenny tried to believe her but every time she peeked through the knot hole, her heart thumped over and she felt as though her icy fear would burst right through her blue linsey-woolsey dress.

The grownups were talking softly on deck.  "Coming near the mouth of the Scioto River," said Uncle Chad.  "The warrior's path crosses the Ohio River here.  Lots of Injuns traveling in these parts.  If'n we want to keep our hair, we better keep ol' Betsy in the current 'till we get past the Scioto."

"They like to find a straggler.  I'll be glad when we ketch up with the other boats," put in Uncle Josh.

"Pesky boat's plumb ornery," Pa grumbled, "Gits caught on every sand bar from Pittsburgh to Limestone...and seems like she heads for the eddies a purpose.  We'd be with the others now if we hadn't had to put a new plank in the keel."

"If'n you ask me," said Uncle Chad, "Them fellers is just waitin' for us to land on the Injun side of the Ohio. They already agreed to leave the Kentucky side to the settlers - but if we set foot on their side..."

The flatboat veered sidewise.

"Sand bar!  Get the goudge..." shouted Uncle Ben and there was a scraping noise and a shuddering all through the boat.  The children, the plough, the bags of corn, and Ma's rocker all slid in a scramble to a  corner of the cabin.

In the doorway, Ma twisted her long skirt to tie it up around her waist.  "Jenny and Dan'l, we need you to push. Twins, stay in the cabin, hear?"

Jenny tied up her dress as they ran out on deck.  Uncle Ben on the cabin roof, pushed his shoulder against the long metal tipped pole braced in the sand bar.  Pa and Uncle Josh and Uncle Chad were already knee deep in the icy water and straining against the Betsy.  Ma and the children went over the side with a splash and pushed on the Betsy with all their might.

The boat had been traveling fast on the current and had landed hard againt the sand bar.  It seemed as if they had been pushing for hours when finally the Betsy shifted ever so slightly.

"Hard as you can!  Everyone together.  PUSH!" yelled Pa.

They took one step on the firm sandy bottom and the boat tipped and slid clear.  Everyone tumbled over the side back into the boat.  Jenny reached up to catch the side, took one more step and suddenly she was up to her chin in deep water.   She had stepped off the sand bar and into a hole.  Pa's big hand reached out for her, touched the tips of her fingers and then the boat swirled out of reach.

She floundered in the deep water and by the time she had her feet under her, the faces looking back at her over the side of the boat were growing smaller and smaller.  She could make out Pa's deep roar over everyone's shouts,

"Jenny, go downstream.  We'll pick you up around the bend."

And then, Jenny was all alone on the Indian side of the river.

She turned and waded ashore to a narrow beach covered with driftwood.  With shaking hands, she wrung out her skirt and watched the Betsy disappear around the bend. The only sound was the sucking and gurgling of the dark water around the willows.

The river was too high for her to follow the shoreline, so she scrambled up to the top of the muddy bank, holding on to the roots and branches and hardly noticing the dogwoods blooming like snowy lace or the pink clouds of redbuds.

As she pushed her way through the bushes, she could see a faint trail leading along the bank.

"An Indian trace!" she gasped.

She picked up her wet skirts and flew down the muddy trail towards the Betsy.  There were roots and stones in the little path which led her twisting through big trees.

Her breath came in hurting gasps now but she didn't dare stop.  When she glanced over her shoulder as she ran, there was, as she had feared, an Indian following her.  He was catching up with her.  She could hear the slap, slap of his mocassins getting closer.  At last, he caught at her shoulder and spun her around.

"You aren't ever going to get me!" she panted and hit at his bare chest.  She scratched and fought and kicked and hit until the Indian finally got hold of both her hands.  Still she twisted and pulled.

"Let me go!"

"Girl, wait.  You are little wild cat.."

Jenny stopped with her mouth open.  This Indian had blue eyes.  She could understand him.

"Be still," he said, "Warriors coming.  Hurry."

He took her hand and they ran back through the underbrush into the forest.  They stopped only once to straighten a twig that had caught on Jenny's dress.  There was a sycamore tree even bigger than the other giant trees in the woods.

"In here," he whispered.  Behind a white blossoming candle berry bush was a narrow opening and Jenny saw that the tree was hollow.  She gathered her skirts around her with both hands and slipped through the entrance.

"No talk!" he cautioned.

"Trying to breathe evenly, she turned to inspect her companion in the dim light.  He was only a young'un himself, she saw in surprise, but taller by a head.  There was a feather fastened to his brown top knot.  He wore only leather britches and moscasins trimmed with bright quills.  Around his waist hung leather pouches and little bags.  He held his breath, listening.

At length, he nodded and pointed at three braves, quiet as shadows, traveling along the trace.

"They hunt me," he said softly, "But they'd like your scalp.  Hair pretty."

Jenny's knees felt shaky.

"Who're you?" she asked

"Name Simon Brooks.  Shawnee took me when I was a tad...been kind to me."  He paused, blue eyes troubled, "But they plan to attack settlers going down the river.  Those my people , too.  Must warn."  He spoke slowly, trying to remember the words.

"Was it you following us this morning?"

Simon nodded.  "Got away from braves two suns ago.  They been after me since.  Found old canoe up Black Creek and used that 'till it sunk  a little while ago. Tried to git aboard your boat but I was skeered I'd get shot."

"You were scared?"

"Yep.  Bein' scared is only way to keep breathin' in these woods.  Makes you mighty keerful."

"We were scared of you."

"Should be," said Simon, nodding.

Oh - the boat - it's waiting for me downstream.  Those braves were going that way."  Jenny caught her breath.

"I saw warrior canoe hidden in willows as I came by.  We borrow that.  C'mon little wild cat, run fast."

The Betsy was waiting around the bend just as Pa had promised.  Pa stood by the landing board ready to take it in the minute Jenny got across.  Uncle Chad was on the roof with the rifle.  The other uncles stood by the oars.

Jenny, kneeling in the bottom of the canoe, called out, "It's me, it's me.  Don't shoot, Uncle Chad.  Indians are coming down the trace.  Get out...get out into the river. Hurry!"

Within seconds the Betsy was away from shore and into the current.  Simon brought the canoe alongside.

Pa reached over to pull Jenny aboard while Uncle Chad pointed his gun at Simon.

"Don't shoot, Uncle Chad.  This is Simon Brooks.  He really IS running away from the Indians.

"Looks like a Injun to me," rumbled Uncle Chad,  But he helped pull the canoe up, dripping, onto the boat.

Jenny hugged Ma tightly.  "Oh, Ma, I was so scared."

Ma hugged Jenny.  "We were all scared, too.  Looks like we all had use for that piggin of courage you were taking to Kentucky - and you see there was enough for everyone just - like I said."

Jenny went to change her dress and wash the muddy blue one.  She hung it out to dry on the deck where it danced in the breeze like a sky blue flag.