Yance Caywood longed to go hunting, but he didn't even dream of buffalo. To catch one was something a man could be proud of, but Tennessee in the year 1810 was certainly not the place to do it. The great herds that had roamed there had moved west, and few, if any, stragglers remained. Instead of buffalo, Yance would settle for a deer, or even a squirrel.

Ever since Pa had died, Yance's older brother Pleas had done the plowing and hunting, and Yance had been confined to fetching and carrying for Ma. Here he was, eleven years old and tied to his mother's apron strings like a young'un, though he could shoot as well as any man. He was willing to do his share of the work, but nevertheless the feeling of rancor grew big inside him. Then buffalo tracks were found on the mountain, and at Pleas's urging Yance was allowed to go with the hunting party, taking along his hound dog Blue.

It was a long trail, and the men dropped out one by one. When snow set in, the last of them turned back. But not Yance. He couldn't, even though he knew this would get him into trouble at home. His lone hunt through the frozen wilderness took courage and fortitude, and in the end Yance paid a bigger price for his stubborn independence than he had ever counted on. But even Ma had to admit he had grown up.

William Steele tells of Yance's ordeal with remarkable understanding of a boy's yearning to take a man's part, and with vivid sense of the early settlers' continual struggle for survival in wild and untamed country. This is a story as honest and compelling at Tomahawks and Trouble and Winter Danger, and will further enhance Mr. Steele's reputation as one of today's most important writers of Americana for young people.

From the dust jacket