"I'm going to prove to you, Henry, that it's true," he said. "Mr.
Pennypacker says it's so, he never tells a falsehood and he's a scholar,
too. But you and I have got to go with the salt-makers, Henry, and we'll
see it all. I guess if you look on it with your own eyes you'll believe
it."
"Of course," said Henry, "and of course I'll go if I can."
A trip through the forest and new country to the great salt spring was
temptation enough in itself, without the addition of the fields of big
bones, and that night in both the Ware and Cotter homes, eloquent boys
gave cogent reasons why they should go with the band.
"Father," said Henry, "there isn't much to do here just now, and they'll
want me up at Big Bone Lick, helping to boil the salt and a lot of
things."
Mr. Ware smiled. Henry, like most boys, seldom showed much zeal for
manual labor. But Henry went on undaunted.
"We won't run any risk. No Indians are in Kentucky now and, father, I
want to go awful bad."
Mr. Ware smiled again at the closing avowal, which was so frank. Just at
that moment in another home another boy was saying almost exactly the
same things, and another father ventured the same answer that Mr.
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