From the particulars of the coming wedding, the stranger, after a little, adroitly turned the conversation upon the wound of Reynolds; asked a number of questions, and appeared deeply interested in the whole narration concerning it—­the attack upon him by the Indians and his providential escape through the assistance of Boone—­all of which was detailed by Isaac in his own peculiar way.  From this case in particular, the conversation gradually changed to other cases that had happened in the vicinity; and also to the state of the country, with regard to what it had been and now was—­its settlements—­its increase of inhabitants—­the many Indian invasions and massacres that had occurred within the last five years on the borders—­and the present supposed population of the frontiers.

“As to myself,” said Younker, in reply to some observation of the stranger, “as to myself and family, we’ve been extremely fortunate in ’scaping the red foe—­though I’ve bin daily fearful that when I went away to my work in the morning, I’d may be come back agin at noon or night and find my women folks gone, or murdered, and my cot in ashes; but, thank the Lord!  I’ve been so far spared sech a heart rending sight.”

“And had you no personal fears?” asked the stranger.

“I don’t know’s I understand you.”

“Had you no fears for yourself individually?”

“Well, I can’t say’s I had,” answered the other.  “I’m an old man—­or at least I’m in my second half century—­and I’ve so endeavored to live, as not to fear to go at any moment when God sees fit, and by whatsomever means he may choose to take me.”

“I suppose you now consider yourself in a measure safe from Indian encroachments?” observed the other.

“No man, stranger—­I beg pardon, but I’d like to know your name!”

“Certainly, sir,” answered the other, a little embarrassed.  “My name is—­is—­Williams.”

“Thank you!  No man, Mr. Williams, ar justified in considering himself safe from Injens, in a country like this; but to tell the truth, I don’t feel so fearful of ’em, as when I first come out here with my family, two year ago; though thar’s no telling what may hap in the course o’ two year more.”

“And did you venture here at once on your arrival in this western country?”

“Not exactly; for the land laws o’ Virginna, passed the year I come out, made it rayther difficult gitting hold o’ land, about which thar war a great deal o’ disputing; and which war kept up till the commissioners came out and settled the matter; and so while this war agitating, I took my family to Boonesborough, whar they remained, excepting Isaac, who went along with me, until we’d got all matters fixed for moving ’em here.  But as you’ve axed considerable many questions, pray may I know ef you’re from the east?—­And ef so, what news thar is with respect to this here war with the Britishers?” “Why,” replied the other, hesitatingly, “though not strictly speaking from the east, yet I’ve been eastward the past season, and have some news of the war; and, as far as I am able to judge, think it will result in the total subjugation of the colonies.”