JO :ght.N"._ COPYKIGHT DEPOSm THE FOUR GREAT AMERICANS SERIES BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS Edited by James Baldwin, Ph.D. ^^ FOUR AMERICAN PIONEERS The Four Great Americans Series Edited by JAMES BALDWIN, Ph. D. BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES OF GREAT AMERICANS FOR YOUNG AMERICAN READERS I. FOUR GREAT AMERICANS George Washington Benjamin Franklin Daniel Webster Abraham Lincoln By James Baldiuin, Ph. D. Cloth, illustrated, 246 pages, .... Price, 500 n. FOUR AMERICAN PATRIOTS Patrick Henrv Alexanuer Hamilton Andrew Jackson Ulysses S. Grant By Alma Holmatt Burion Author of " The Story of Our Country," " Lafayette," etc. Cloth, illustrated, 256 pages, .... Price, 50c III. FOUR AMERICAN NAVAL HEROES Pai'l Jones Oliver H. Perrv David G. Farragut George Dewey By Mabel Borfon Beehe Cloth, illustrated, 254 pages, .... Price, 50c IV. tOUR AMERICAN POETS William Cullen Bryant Henry W. Longfellow John G. Whittier Oliver Wendell Holmes By Sherivin Coiiy Cloth, portraits, 254 pages, .... Price, 50c V. FOUR FAMOUS AMERICAN WRITERS Washington Irving Edgar Allan Poe James Russell Lowell Bavard Taylor By Shermin Cody Cloth, portraits, 256 pages, .... Price, 50c VI. FOUR AMERICAN PIONEERS Daniel Boone George Rogers Clark David Crockett Kit Carson By frances M , Perry ntiii Katherine Beehe Cloth, illustrated, 256 pages, .... Price, 50c VII. GREAT AMERICAN EDUCATORS Horace Mann Mary Lyon David P. Page Henry Barnard, et nl. By A. E. Winship, Litt. D. OTHER VOLUMES IN I'REFARATION DANIEL BOONE. FOUR AMERICAN PIONEERS Daniel Boone David Crockett George Rogers Clark Kit Carson A BOOK FOR YOUNG AMERICANS FRANCES M. PERRY fir KATHERINE BEEBE WERNER SCHOOL BOOK COMPANY NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON Office Of thff MAY 1 1900 Hefflstor of Copyrights SECOND COPY, / ^ ^ S'T^ . 61461 Copyright, 1900, By Werner School Book Company jrf)f ILakcBitif ^Prt2S R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY CHICAGO r CONTENTS. THE STORY OF DANIEL BOONE CHAPTER PAGE I. Childhood . . . . . . .11 II. A Young Hunter ..... 14 III. Westward Ho! ...... 17 IV. A Second Robinson Crusoe . . 21 V. East Again ....... 25 VI. Preparing the Way ..... 28 VII. The New Kentucky Home . . . .31 VIII. Indian Hostilities ..... 35 IX. Boone Made Prisoner . . . . .39 X. Captivity and Escape .... 42 XI. Preparations for the Siege . . .46 XII. The Siege of Boonesborough ... 49 XIII. Dark Days . 55 XIV. Old Age , . 61 CONTENTS. THE STORY OF GEORGE ROGERS CLARK CHAPTER I. Boyhood and Youth . . . . .73 II. "Kentucki" ...... 75 III. The Conquest of Illinois . , . .80 IV. Colonel Clark and the Indians . . 89 V. Indian Treaties ...... 95 VI. Vincennes ...... loi VII. Through the "Drowned Lands" . . 105 VIII. The Capture of Fort Sackville . . no IX. The Delaware Indians . . . .118 X. Back in Kentucky ..... 120 XI. Lochrv's Defeat ...... 124 XII. Border Troubles . . . . .126 XIII. After the War . . . . . . 128 CONTENTS. THE STORY OF DAVID CROCKETT CHAPTER L A Neglected Child .... II. A Homesick Boy ..... III. A Runaway . . ■ . IV. A Hired Hand . . » . V. A Householder ..... VI. A Soldier ...... VII. A Leading Citizen . , „ . VIII. A Bear Hunter .... IX. A Congressman . . ' . X. A Traveler XI. A Daring Adventurer XII. A Hero of the Alamo 135 138 142 145 154 158 165 172 175 179 188 V 5 ~ CONTENTS. THE STORY OF KIT CARSON CHAPTER PAGB I. Preparation ...... 197 II. Getting a Start ...... 201 III. Trapping in California .... 207 IV. The Second Expedition . , . . 215 V. Free Trapping ....... 221 VI. Fair and Camp ...... 225 VII. Hunting in the Rockies .... 230 VIII. Carson and Fremont ..... 237 IX. West with Fremont ..... 242 X. Again on the March ..... 245 XI. At Home ....... 249 THE STORY OF DANIEL BOONE By Frances M. Perry DANIEL BOONE. DANIEL BOONE THE HERO OF KENTUCKY I. — Childhood. When Daniel Boone was a child the land west of the AUeghanies was a wilderness inhabited only by Indians. But in Virginia, and other places east of the mountains, there were fine houses with broad porches and large, richly-furnished rooms. There stately men in powdered wigs and knee-breeches, and queenly dames in stifi" brocades and high-heeled shoes, lived and brought up little American boys and girls after the fashion of their English cousins. However, it was not in such a house nor among such people that Daniel Boone learned to walk, and talk, and think. His father was a poor man who lived in a rude log cabin on the outskirts of a dark forest in Pennsyl- vania. There Daniel spent his happy childhood. The cabin was small, but that made it very snug in winter when the snow was blowing outside and the logs were blazing in the great stone fireplace. And in sum- mer, if there was not room enough for the large family II 12 DANIEL BOONE. in the small house, there was plenty of space out of doors. The little folks in that humble home were not fed on pies and cakes, but they had an abundance of plain food which makes strong muscles ; and sharp appetites gave it flavor. The beds were hard, but all slept too soundly to think of that. The rough hunter loved his children fondly. When he came home from a day's hunt and Daniel toddled down the path to meet him, he tossed the sturdy little fellow upon his shoulder and let him examine the heavy flint-lock with eager baby fingers. Or perhaps he had brought a shy rabbit or cunning squirrel to his boy, just as your father sometimes brings a ball or a toy to your younger brother. Daniel loved animals and had no fear of them. These tiny creatures of the woods were his play- fellows, and his father's hunting-dogs were his com- rades. As soon as he was old enough he went with his brothers and sisters to the log schoolhouse to learn to read and write. The schoolroom was small, dark, and comfortless. The master was cross and unjust. The place seemed like a prison to Daniel. He was glad to shun such a place and plunge into the forest with his gun on his shoulder and his dog at his heels. There he felt free and happy. Long, solitary tramps through the woods in quest of game were his greatest pleasure. He was usually so successful in CHILDHOOD. 13 hunting that his father made no objection to his staying away from school. The youthful hunter might have been hurt or lost while on these lonely rambles, but he rarely had a mishap; for he was as cautious as he was brave. His habit of hunting alone made him observing and self-reliant, for there was no one to whom he could go for advice when in trouble. When exploring new re- gions in fair weather he was guided by the sun ; and when the day was dark and cloudy the thick moss on the north side of the tree-trunks told him which way to go. He rarely needed such guides, however, for, like the wild animals, he seemed to know his way by instinct. He soon knew the forest for miles around. He could name the trees at a distance from the color of their leaves. In the win- ter he knew them by their bark, their manner of branch- ing, and their forms. He could find the finest nuts and the most luscious berries. He knew the tiniest wild flowers, and where and when to look for them. A hunter's equip- ment. 14 DANIEL BOONE. He was very much interested in animals, and studied their haunts and habits. He became a good marksman, for he could keep a cool head and a steady hand at the most exciting moment. He knew many Indians; he visited their tents; ate their food; hunted with them; traveled with them; and learned their customs, their tricks, and their character. Thus, while other American boys were being schooled in English manners and were being prepared to meet the British on equal terms and defeat them, Daniel Boone was taking the lessons in forest lore and Indian craft that were to fit him to subdue the wilderness and vanquish the red man. II. — A Young Hunter. Daniel Boone grew to manhood without caring much for the peaceful, industrious habits of civilization. Farming he did not like. Business and politics were uninteresting. He was even indifferent to the war with the French and Indians, which was then exciting his countrymen. Hunting claimed the most of his time and attention. He was an ideal hunter, having been fitted by nature and training for that life at a period when hunting was not a sport, but a serious occupa- tion. Though not unusually tall, he was finely formed. He A YOUNG HUNTER. 15 had the grace and freedom of a strong man who has plenty of the right kind of exercise. His broad, deep chest showed that he could run very fast without getting out of breath or panting. His light springing step carried him over the ground so swiftly and easily that men hurrying along the road behind him were sur- prised to see how fast the distance between them increased. When necessary he could work harder and longer without food or rest than other men. No Indian was more quick and nimble or more artful and cunning than Boone when he was trying to outwit .an enemy or surprise timid game. He had a fine head and his face was by no means commonplace. The high forehead, the clear, calm eyes and the firm mouth, all told of a manly courage to which imprudence and fear were equally impossible. In his disposition he was kind and accommodating, and his friends and relatives respected and admired the quiet youth, of whose skill and strength wonderful stories were told. Of course there were fault-finding strangers who did not think so well of him, but criti- cised his rough clothes and called him stupid because he was not interested in the same subjects that they were. It made little difference to Daniel Boone whether people liked or disliked his conduct, so long as he could foreet the rest of the world in the old forest with its l6 DANIEL BOONE. woody odors, its deep silences, and numberless living creatures. But when at last the sound of the woodman's ax began to rival the report of the hunter's gun in his beloved forest, and the frontiersman's cabin and corn- field appeared in the clearings, he became dissatisfied. He did not like to see his hunting grounds turned into farm-lands. He was well pleased, therefore, when his father decided to move to a new settlement on the Yadkin River, in North Carolina, which was reported to be a fine hunting district. There were no railroads then, not even wagon roads, and movers had to travel on foot or on horseback. Fortunately, they seldom had many articles of sufficient value to carry with them. When the Boone family reached the end of their long journey, Daniel helped his father and brothers to make a loghouse much like their old Pennsylvania home. This cabin did not shelter him many months. He met a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked lass in the settlement. He loved her so dearly that he decided to build a little home of his own if he could only persuade the sweet Rebecca to be its mistress. He was very happy when he found that she loved him in return, and they were soon married. They went to housekeeping in a poor but romantic cabin on the edge of a beautiful forest. For a while this forest furnished them with all they needed, but as more people came to live in the neigh- borhood Daniel Boone again saw the game driven away WESTWARD HO ! . 1 7 by advancing civilization. He tried to cultivate the soil and manage a small farm, but he found such work much harder than hunting. Then, too, the inequality of the settlers in wealth and position distressed him. The rich had large plantations, fine houses, slaves, and luxuries of all kinds. They seemed to think their wealth gave them rights which their poor neighbors who dressed in deerskins and lived in log cabins did not have. This vexed the independent Boone and he became unhappy and restless. III. — Westward Ho ! Boone heard glowing reports of the hunting-grounds beyond the mountains, from John Finley, who had been there trading with the Indians. He thought that such a country would be an ideal place in which to live. He talked the matter over with his friends and found five tried hunters who were willing to go with him on a hunting and exploring expedition through that region. So in the spring of 1769, when his neighbors were hard at work sowing and planting, Daniel Boone said farewell to his wife and children and started for the distant west. He and his companions were going to a country where there were no hotels, no houses, not even stores i8 DANIEL BOONE. where they might buy food, clothing or blankets. Money would be useless to them there. Yet they car- ried with them no provisions or other articles except powder and bullets, for their rifles and hatchets must furnish them with the necessities of life. As they passed through the settlement the people came to their doors to look after the six men. They MAP SHOWING THE PLACES VISITED BY BOONE. wore comfortable deerskin hunting-suits trimmed with fringes of slashed deerskin. On their feet were stout moccasins of the same material. Full powder horns dangled from their belts, and every man had a strong hunting-knife, a tomahawk, and a rifle. All the boys who saw them on that pleasant spring morning thought they looked very brave and manly and told their mothers that they too would be hunters when they grew up. But the older people shook their heads WESTWARD ho! I9 and said that it was much better to be a farmer or a mer- chant. And the boys might have agreed with them if they could have traveled for a day or two with those hunters. While the weather was fair and bright the hunters kept in good spirits. But heavy rains soon fell. The mountain paths were muddy and slippery. There were no bridges, and so they had to cross the swollen moun- tain streams as best they could, sometimes wading, and sometimes floating themselves over on logs or rude rafts. Wet through, cold, often hungry, they could not help sighing for the comfortable homes they had left. But they were hardy men, and trudged on with no thought of turning back. The bad weather continued. As they got deeper among the wild and unexplored mountains, the difficulty of traveling increased. They did not know at what moment they might be attacked by a band of Indians. Even Boone thought it a most unpleasant journey. He called the cliifs "wild" and "horrid" and said it was "impossible to behold them without terror." To him they looked like the " ruins of the world." After a month's hard tramping they reached the crest of the heights that overlook the rich plains of central Kentucky. As they viewed the valleys and rolling forest lands below them they felt rewarded for their difficult march. The scene was beautiful and prom- ising. Large herds of buffaloes were seen grazing on 20 DANIEL BOONE. the hillsides or browsing on the leaves in the cane- brakes. Deer and all sorts of choice game assured them of abundant food. They built a rude hunters' lodge of logs and bark, as a shelter from rain. This they made their headquarters. In the morning they started out by twos and later in the day all returned to the lodge, bringing the fruits of a day's hunt. In the evening they cooked and ate a hearty supper and told the adventures of the day. Sometimes one reported that he had seen signs of Indians. Then all were cautious for a short time. x\s they became acquainted with the neighboring country they took longer trips, meeting less often at the lodge. In this way they spent the summer and fall. A few days before Christmas, as Daniel Boone and a single companion were enjoying a ramble through a beautiful section of the country, rich in game and timber, they were waylaid by a party of fifteen Indians. It was useless to make resistance, and they were over- powered and made prisoners. Boone knew the Indian character well. He knew that the savages would probably kill them if they were troublesome or disagreeable, and so he acted as if he were well pleased with his new life. His friend fol- lowed his example; and when the Indians found that the prisoners could march just as far as they them- selves could, that they could go as long without food, always appeared contented, and never tried to get away, A SECOND ROBINSON CRUSOE. 21 they thought them very brave fellows and did not watch them so closely. On the seventh night after they had been made pris- oners, Boone saw that they were unwatched. While all the Indians were sleeping he roused his companion and, seizing their rifles, the two stole away. When the Indians awoke next morning, their former prisoners were already far on their way toward the old lodge. IV. — A Second Robinson Crusoe. The fugitives hastened to the old meeting place expecting to find friends and good cheer. Instead they found the lodge empty and deserted. At first they were struck with dismay. They were full of anxiety for their companions. They were sorry to lose the valu- able skins they had collected. And after their recent experience with the Indians it was not pleasant to know that they were the only white men west of the mountains. But Daniel Boone was not the man to be driven from his purpose by fear or discomfort or any ordinary disaster. This ill-fortune only made him more de- termined to succeed. The two men went to work with energy to repair their loss. A few days later, on returning from a long hunt, they saw two white men approaching their camp. 22 DANIEL BOONE. Hurrying to welcome the new-comers, Boone was sur- prised to meet his own brother, Squire Boone. He had started with a fellow adventurer to explore the country and find, if possible, some trace of Daniel. By the marks which the hunters had left along the route, he had been able to trace them to the camp. You may imagine how glad Daniel Boone was to see his brother and hear from his wife and children. And you may imagine how glad Squire Boone was to meet the brother whom he had begun to fear that he should never see again. A larger fire than usual was made that night in the little cabin, and the choicest game was roasted over it for the cold and hungry travelers. In talking over their adventures and plans, all forgot that they were tired, and the fire burned low before they went to sleep in their warm buffalo robes. The following days were spent in hunting and ex- ploring. The men were cheerful and hopeful. Four seemed to them a goodly company; but their number was soon reduced again to two. Squire Boone's com- panion returned home, and Daniel's friend was killed by the Indians. The brothers prepared a more comfortable cabin for their winter quarters and passed that season in safety. In the spring their supply of powder and lead got so low that it was necessary for one of them to go back to Carolina for more. It was decided that Squire Boone A SECOND ROBINSON CRUSOE. 23 should go. He started on the first of May. So, just one year from the day on which Daniel Boone had left his home and set out for the West, he was left alone in the wilderness. After his brother had left he was as lonely as Robin- son Crusoe. He had not a dog or a horse to keep him ALONE AT THE HUNTERS' CAMP. company. He was in constant danger of being cap- tured or shot by Indians. His only food was game and wild fruit. Few men could have endured such privations. But Boone's life from childhood had prepared him to accept such circumstances almost as a matter of course. 24 DANIEL BOONE. At first he felt lonesome and thought much of his wife and children, but he had no fear. He explored the country, following the traces or roads, made through the cane by buffaloes and other animals, to the salt licks. He traced streams to their sources, named rivers, noted the forests and the vege- table products of different regions, and marked good locations for settlements. He often traveled far from his camp on these occasions and slept under the open sky. At night he heard wolves howl and panthers screech, but he knew they were too well supplied with game to care to molest him. He was always on the lookout for Indians. He learned that he was in a territory which was the home of no tribe, but the common hunting and battle ground of many. He knew that his camp had been discovered, and he feared it was watched; for on returning to it he often found that it had been visited. In spite of so many dangers he really enjoyed this life better than the uneventful life of a farmer, and never regretted the step he had taken. Still when three months had passed he began to look rather uneasily at his small store of ammunition and watch anxiously for his brother. And he felt sincerely thankful when he met him at last in the old camp. Squire Boone brought horses, powder, lead, and, best of all, news of the health and prosperity of the dear ones at home. After another fall and winter spent in hunting and EAST AGAIN. 25 exploring the land along the Cumberland River, the brothers returned to Carolina. But Daniel Boone had found the place that he wished to make his home and left it with the expectation of returning soon with his family and friends. V. — East Again. Daniel Boone did not telegraph to his wife that he was coming home, nor did he write to her, for you must remember that there was no telegraph then, and there were no mail coaches in that part of the world. But if Mrs. Boone had been getting ready for weeks, the floor could not have been whiter, the tins could not have been more shining bright, the fire could not have blazed more merrily, the corn-bread could not have been lighter, and the children could not have been more trim and neat than they were on that spring evening when the weather-beaten hunter stood again at his own door after an absence of two years. How overjoyed they were to see him ! No wonder the brisk little woman in homespun let the bowl of lus- cious strawberries fall with a crash on the clean floor while she gave a cry of delight and ran into his out- stretched arms. Then those tall, fine-looking boys and girls, who had grown so that he scarcely knew them, crowded about him and almost smothered him with caresses. 26 DANIEL BOONE. When the news of Boone's return spread through the neighborhood, friends and relatives came in to welcome him.. He was quite a hero. Every one wanted to hear of his adventures and learn about the rich land he had found. Mrs. Boone was so proud of her brave husband, and so happy in having him home again, that she forgot all about the two long years of hard work and separation. He gave such a glowing account of Kentucky that all his family thought it would be fine to go there and were pleased to hear him say that he would take them back with him. Some of the neighbors said they would be glad to join them. This was just what Boone wanted, and he began at once to organize a party of emigrants and prepare for the departure. The farm had to be sold. Provision had to be made for the comfort of women and children. Then, there were delays caused by people changing their minds after they had promised to go, and more than a year passed before a company of five families was ready, with cattle and household goods, to start for the new home in the wilderness. They began the journey in good spirits. In Powell's Valley they were joined by forty men. The whole party pressed eagerly forward, full of hope. They had crossed two ranges of mountains and were nearing the third when those in front were startled by rifle reports in the rear. EAST AGAIN. 27 They turned back and found that the young men driving the cattle had been attacked by a band of In- dians. The emigrants charged npon the savages and drove them away. But six of their bojs had fallen in the first fire. Among those killed was Daniel Boone's eldest son. Overcome with grief and fear, the party would not go on. Boone, therefore, led them back to the settlements iL»>*^' OLD FLINT LOCK RIFLE USED BY BOONE. on the Clinch River. Here, still far from his promised land, he staid with his family until 1774. The fame of Boone's explorations in Kentucky reached the ears of the governor of Virginia, who at that time had a party of surveyors working along the Ohio River. The Indians had become so hostile that these men dared not come back the way they had gone, and it was dangerous for them to stay where they were. The governor requested Boone to go to the Falls of the Ohio to find and conduct them home, overland. He was glad to do this and set forth at once with one com- panion. About two months later he returned to the set- tlement with the surveyors, having made the journey of eight hundred miles through a country without roads in sixty-two days. 28 DANIEL BOONE. A little later the governor made him captain of three garrisons, and sent him to fight the Indians. A treaty of peace soon put an end to the hostilities between Virginia and the Indians, and Daniel Boone was again without employment, but not for long. VI. — Preparing the Way. A company of rich men in North Carolina thought they might increase their wealth by buying a large tract of land in famous Kentucky and selling it off to settlers in small farms. They would first have to buy the land of the Indians. As Daniel Boone knew all about the land, they wished him to take charge of this part of the business. Accord- ingly he went, in their behalf, to a council of Indians and bought the land on terms satisfactory to both Indians and white men. After the treaty was made an old Indian shook hands with Boone and said: "We have given you a fine country, brother, but you will have trouble to settle it" The men who had bought the land wished to see it occupied. In order to encourage movers to go there they wished to have a road opened and a fort built. Boone was put in charge of this undertaking. A better man for the work could not have been found. He had a personal interest in it, for the road was to be traveled PREPARING THE WAY. 29 by his own family and the fort would protect them in their new home. At the head of a band of well-armed workmen, hired for thirty-three cents a day, he commenced the work 2:)romptly. It went forward rapidly, for the road was no more than a rude path, marked and cleared so that a line of pack horses mig^ht travel over it. Although THE FORT AT BOONESBOROUGH. always on the lookout for an attack from the Indians, the road-makers were not molested until they had nearly completed their work. When within fifteen miles of the place which Boone had decided upon for the station, the party was fired upon by Indians. Though the white men finally drove the savages away, two of their num- ber were killed and two wounded. Three days later the Indians made a second assault. 30 DANIEL BOONE. That time Boone lost two more of his men and three were wounded. This resistance only roused the deter- mined leader to put forth greater effort to finish the road and build a strong fort to defend his employers' property against the claims of men who, he thought, had no right to it. On the first day of April, 1775, they began to build a fort near a salt lick about one hundred and eighty feet south of the Kentucky River. While busy with this work, which was not completed until the middle of June, they lost one man. When finished, the station was named, in honor of the man to whom it owed its existence, Boonesborough. The fame of the fertility of Kentucky had spread, and several parties of Virginians ventured that year to cross the mountains and visit the wonderful hunting-ground. Their object was to claim lands for future settlement. For Virginia, the state to which the territory of Ken- tucky belonged, had offered four hundred acres of land to every one who would clear a portion of it, raise a crop of Indian corn, and build a rude cabin. The settlers did not fell the large trees, but cut the bark so that they would die. Then having cleared away the underbrush, planted corn, and put up rude huts on desirable tracts of land, most of them went back to their homes in the East. These men expected to sell or use their lands when the country was better settled and less dangerous. THE NEW KENTUCKY HOME. 3 1 Daniel Boone had no thought of getting rich by claim- ing and selling Kentucky lands. To him it seemed a good place for a home just as it was. As soon as the fort was completed he left it in charge of a few men and returned to the settlement on the Clinch River, to move his family to the home he had prepared for them. VII. — The New Kentucky Home. Boone was a happy man when he said good-by to the quiet little community east of the Cumberland Moun- tains and set forth with his wife and children for the land he loved. It took much courage for Mrs. Boone to leave home and friends and attempt a second time the perilous jour- ney through the wilderness from Clinch River to Boones- borough. But she was a brave woman, and, if her heart was heavy with sorrow and fear when she passed the spot where, two years before, her eldest boy was shot, she hid her grief, and her husband did not know that she was less happy than he. She noticed the beautiful scenery and spoke of the fine air. Where the way was broad enough, Daniel Boone rode beside her. His happiness made him more talkative than usual, and he pointed out objects of interest or related some adventure that had befallen him here or there along the road. Then he spoke of the new fort 32 DANIEL BOONE. THE NEW KENTUCKY HOME. 33 and told how strong it was and liow safe they would be from the Indians when they reached it. Thus he talked until the entire company shared his enthusiasm. But all the time he was on the alert. No stragglers were allowed to linger behind the company or stray aside to fall victims to Indian cunning, and all reached Boonesborough in safety and with high hopes. How beautiful the new home was! The world seemed so grand and free and all their own. Mrs. Boone and her daughter stood on the banks of the Kentucky and felt a thrill of pride when Daniel Boone told them that they would be remembered in history as the first white women to behold that stream. Everything was new and unusual. They were inter- ested in the curious animals and strange plants. They felt the charm that he had felt, and were glad to be there. Then, too, they thought themselves so safe when once inside of the great palisade. Before the novelty wore off and before they had time to be lone- some other families joined them. The station consisted of several cabins opening on a hollow square and surrounded by a wall about twelve feet high, made of stout posts, sharpened and planted firmly in the earth. At the corners were projecting, strong blockhouses. In the daytime the men went outside of the palisade to hunt, and plant or tend their corn. The women went to and from the spring for water. The children 34 DANIEL BOONE. ' played about the gate. The cattle browsed on the tender cane leaves. But at night all assembled within the sheltering walls. Each of the families had a separate cabin. Five or six of the men who had no families clubbed together in a single dwelling. Living so close together and having the same interests all were as well acquainted and friendly as one great family. And what good times they had in the evening after the day's work! Such feasts, such fiddling, such danc- ing and singing ! Never was fairy tale listened to with such breathless interest as were the adventures of those daring hunters. With plenty of work to keep them busy by day, and frolics and story-telling for the even- ing hours, they had little time to regret old friends and little occasion to fear the Indians. This tranquillity was interrupted and the Christmas cheer of the pioneers was changed to sorrow and appre- hension, for on the twenty-fourth of December one of their number was wounded and another killed by prowling savages. After that they were left in peace for some time. Their cane-fed cattle gave them the most delicious cream, butter, and cheese. The women and boys worked in February and March making maple sugar, which the children said was almost as good as the golden honey that the wild bees had stored for them in the old for- est trees. Crops flourished. The salt licks furnished INDIAN HOSTILITIES. 35 good salt. The wild animals provided them with meat and skins. In short, nature cherished them in rude plenty, and they were happy and prosperous in their new home. Their experience had encouraged others to follow their example, and several stations sprang up in the vicinity. VIII. — Indian Hostilities. No signs of the Indians had been seen for some time. The boys began to call them cowards and to boast what they would do if one dared to venture on their land. Even the older people had begun to feel rather secure. But one evening in July on returning from a hunt Daniel Boone found the settlement in a state of great excitement. Women were weeping and wringing their hands ; there were watchmen at the gate with loaded rifles ; men were melting bullets, and all looked troubled. He soon learned the cause of this distress. His young daughter and two of her girl friends had imprudently crossed the river in an old boat. When they reached the opposite bank they were seized by Indians and carried away. It was impossible for those who saw the deed to help the terrified girls, for they had taken the only boat. When Boone heard the sad story his eyes flashed, but he spoke quietly and all were cheered by his strong, sensible words. He immediately took the matter into 36 DANIEL BOONE. his own hands. He told the broken-hearted mothers that they need have no fear for their daughters' present safety, as the Indians treated women captives with kind- ness and respect. He promised to return their daughters to them safe and sound. No one knew the force of the enemy, but eight brave men offered to go with Boone to rescue the girls. With- out loss of time they began hunting for some trace to show the route taken by the Indians. By daylight they were on the track of the red men and in eager pur- suit. The Indians had scattered and marched through the thickest cane they could find, so that the white men would have hard work to follow them. But Boone did not try to follow them. He led his men in the same direction by a better way for about thirty miles. Then turning to cross their path he came upon their tracks in a buffalo road. Boone and his men quickened their march and soon came upon the savages, who had halted and were prepar- ing a meal. The Indians were so surprised that they fled, leaving prisoners and rifles behind. The white men fired after the flying foe and two fell. But, satisfied to find their children, Boone and his friends refrained from punishing the kidnappers further, and hastened back to the fort with the poor frightened girls. There was great rejoicing when they reached the station. The girls were kissed, scolded, and cried over INDIAN HOSTILITIES. 37 by the women. The small boys regarded them as heroines. This was the beginning of a long struggle between the Indians and pioneers. The whole region was alive with savages. They laid siege to all the stations. They did not usually advance boldly and attack, the settle- ments in large companies, but hid themselves, watched their chances and killed their enemies singly whenever they could do so without risk to themselves. If it had been possible for the white men to stay within their fortifications they would not have suffered much from these sieges. They fought with an enemy cruel and cunning, but unacquainted with the arts of civilized warfare. To the Indians, the storming of forts was a new and vain- undertaking. A log fortress was as unconquerable as one of stone, so far as these simple warriors were concerned. But the pioneers depended on the great world outside of the fortress for food and clothing. To keep up the supply of such materials it was necessary to make fre- quent sallies from the palisade. Prudence was needed, but action was just as necessary. The pioneers were obliged to risk the uncertain danger from Indians to avoid the sure misery of starvation. Those were days, weeks, months, of terrible anxiety to the little bands of settlers scattered through the wilderness. Wherever the white man went his path was beset with danger. The sly savages lurked behind 38 DANIEL BOONE. trees or in bushes. Stones and stumps afforded them hiding places. The hunter in pursuit of game was shot down and scalped. The parties on the way to the salt licks were fired into by unseen hands. The farmer, hoeing his corn, was slain. The boy, stooping at the spring to fill his pail, received a bullet in his breast. The first man who chanced to come out of the gate in the morning fell face downward on the earth, and before the cloud of gun smoke had cleared away the stealthy redskin had vanished. In the dead of night firebrands were thrown upon the roofs of houses — cattle were killed or driven away. Whenever hunger forced the besieging party to with- draw to hunt, the pioneers made the most of the time to plow fields or harvest grain, to collect cattle or replenish their stock of buffalo or bear meat. Several times the garrisons were assailed by large bands of Indians. When they were one or two hundred strong they ventured to approach the forts and attempt to batter down the gates. Their fury, their war whoops, their faces terrible with paint and hatred, filled the breasts of the besieged with terror. But they were usually driven back by the sharp-shooting palefaces with greater loss than they inflicted. It was in such trying times as these that Boone seemed most the hero. The harassed people who had come to share his fate in the wilderness regarded him as BOONE MADE PRISONER. 39 their leader and adviser. But that fearless, generous man insisted on serving as well as leading. He was eager to do the most dangerous work. He went out on the road to meet emigrants and lead them by secret ways to the stations. He journeyed by night from station to station. He got game and salt for the famishing garrisons. Often he met and struggled with Indians, but he seemed to bear a charmed life. None of them could boast greater cunning or alertness than he, none equal strength and marksmanship. He became known and feared as the captain of the " lyong Knives." IX. — Boone Made Prisoner. In the winter of 1778 the salt supply gave out in Boonesborough. Now, there are very few articles of food that please us without salt; and indeed salt is necessary to the health of man and beast. As the Indians were no longer lurking about the fort, but had gone back to their villages to spend the winter, the settlers thought they might safely send a party of men to the springs to make a quantity of salt. Accordingly, thirty men, with kettles and sacks, left Boonesborough on the first of January for the Lower Blue Licks, on Licking River. There were famous salt springs at this place; and it 40 DANIEL BOONE. had derived its name from the fact that immense num- bers of deer and buffaloes resorted there to lick the salt which collected around the edges of the springs. The pioneers wished to make a large quantity of salt, and the licks were for weeks the scene of great activ- ity. Some of the men drew the water from the springs ; some tended the fires; others watched the boiling liquid in the great iron kettles. When the water had all evaporated the salt crystals that were left in the kettles were emptied into large sacks. These the men kept in a dry place until they had as much salt as the packhorses could carry; then they sent it to the garrison in charge of two or three men, while the others stayed at the spring and made more salt. A hunter and scout was needed to supply the workmen with food and give warning if the Indians MAKING SALT. BOONE MADE PRISONER. 4I should approach. These duties were left to Daniel Boone. One day, when at some distance from the camp, he found himself surrounded by a large body of Indians. Seeing that he could not escape, he cheerfully yielded himself prisoner. He was not slow to learn the reason why this strong band of savages had left their homes to make a long march in the middle of winter. They were on the warpath. Their scouts had told them that most of the men were away from Boonesborough and they were hastening to destroy that fort while it was defense- less. Boone knew enough about Indian warfare to realize what a horrible fate awaited the settlement, so dear to him, if these pitiless men could not be turned from their purpose. He pictured the helpless women and children attacked by howling savages. In fancy he saw them rushing from their flaming homes only to fall a prey to the cruel tomahawk. Then he imagined the midnight massacre of the salt makers that would probably follow this bloody deed. If he could only get word to the men at the licks they might rush to the defense of the garrison and save it and themselves! But that was a vain wish and Boone bent his whole power to accomplish possible good. It seemed to him better that strong men should suffer imprisonment than that the devoted women who had 42 DANIEL BOONE. shared the hardship of frontier life should be slain or that all should perish. He therefore reasoned with the chief and persuaded him that it would be much wiser for him to take the salt-makers prisoners than to destroy the garrison, as he would receive large rewards for them from the British at Detroit. The Indians saw the truth of what he said, and when he assured them that he had such power over his men that they would yield without resistance if he com- manded them to do so, they were pleased with the prospect of such an easy and safe victory. They prom- ised him that if he would put the "Long Knives" in their power they would treat them well. Convinced that he had done the best in his power for all concerned, Boone gravely, but without faltering, led the braves to the camp of the astonished salt-makers. They were amazed to hear the word ' ' surrender ' ' from Daniel Boone; but they obeyed, believing that he had good reason for his action. You may be sure that those brave men agreed that he had done wisely when they learned of the danger that had thus been turned from the women and children of their rarrison. X. — Captivity and Escape. Well satisfied with having taken so many prisoners, the Indians returned to Old Chillicothe, north of the CAPTIVITY AND ESCAPE. 43 Ohio River, to show their prisoners and celebrate their victory. They were faithful to their pledge and their captives fared as well as their own warriors; but un- willing hearts make slow traveling, and the Boones- borough men found the one hundred and sixty miles' march in bitter winter weather a long and hard one. They reached the Indian village in February. Run- ners were sent in advance to announce the return of a successful band of warriors, and the people of the village assembled to give the victors a noisy welcome and satisfy their curiosity regarding the prisoners. In March Boone and ten of his men were sent to Detroit in charge of forty braves. General Hamilton, the British commander at that place, had made a treaty of friendship with the Indians and had offered a reward for white prisoners. It was for the purpose of getting this reward that the prisoners were taken on this long march. Boone, in a certain way, enjoyed it. Alert and observ- ing as usual, he saw much to interest him in the country through which they were passing. It was just such a trip as he would have enjoyed taking had he been free. The Indians felt him to be a powerful man. They ad- mired him and stood in awe of him. The more they saw of him the better they liked him. When they reached Detroit they sold the other pris- oners to the British, but refused to give up Boone. A large sum of money was offered in exchange for this im- 44 DANIEL BOONE. portaiit prisoner. The Indians refused it, saying they liked him so well they wished to make him one of their tribe. The British had promised to treat him well and he had a strong dislike for Indians, yet Boone showed no disappointment when he heard this, but appeared very ready to remain their prisoner. He was not easily overcome by misfortune. He went back with the Indians and took up his life among them with a cheerful face and hopeful heart. He longed to hear from Boonesborough and to send word of his safety to his family. He felt sure that he would succeed in making his escape before long, and in the meantime he did not find it hard to live as the Indians did. He was bathed, to wash away his white blood, and received into the tribe with due ceremony as the adopted son of a chief. He worked for his captors, making salt for them and tending their crops. He served so faith- fully and always acted in such a friendly, manly way that he soon won the confidence of the entire tribe. He was allowed to go hunting and always brought back presents of fine game to the great chief or king. When asked to measure his power in shooting at a mark or in running races with the savages, he showed his good sense and freedom from vanity. He saw that they were jealous of him if he surpassed them in skill, so he let them win in the contests, but came so near to CAPTIVITY AND ESCAPE. 45 victory that he held their respect and admiration. They soon came to trnst him so much that they did not think it necessary to watch him closely. This was what he wanted. In Jnne, on returning from a salt-making expedition, he found the villasre full of strange Indians. As it was SHOOTING AT A MARK WITH THE) INDIANS. supposed that he could not understand the speech of the new-comers they talked freely in his presence, and he soon picked up enough words to learn that the braves were assembling to attack Boonesborough. When he heard that, he decided that the moment had come for him to attempt flight. 46 DANIEL BOONE. He would be killed if caught, but at all risks he must make an effort to escape and warn his people of their danger. His captivity had been the means of saving the garrison once, he would save it again by escape. Hiding a piece of dried venison in his hunting shirt, he started at daybreak "to hunt." As soon as he was well out of sight he took pains to hide all marks that would show the Indians the way he had taken, then started with great speed for Boonesborough. His haste was so great that he did not stop to eat. He was in continual dread of being overtaken, and traveled night and day till he reached the Ohio. He was not a good swimmer and he was perplexed as to how he should cross the river. lyuckily he found an old canoe on the bank. It leaked badly, but a few minutes' work made it sufficiently water-proof to carry him to the opposite bank. Once across the river, he rested a little, shot a wild turkey for food, and thus re- freshed, renewed his journey to the settlement. XI. — Preparations for the Siege. When Boone came in sight of the familiar old fort he quickened his steps and his eye brightened. He forgot that he was tired and foot-sore. He forgot for a moment the terrible fate that threatened the station. The faces of his wife, his children and neighbors filled his thoughts PREPARATIONS FOR THE SIEGE. 47 and the prospect of seeing them all again made him happy. His coming caused great rejoicing. Men and women thronged about to shake hands once more with their old captain. But Mrs. Boone was not among them; for, losing hope of her husband's return, she had gone back to her father's house in North Carolina with all her children except one daughter. Boone's disappointment on hearing this was softened by the thought that his loved ones were out of harm's way, and he soon forgot his personal affairs in thoughts of war. He interrupted the numerous questions concerning his welfare to ask about the strength of the fortification. He inquired whether certain repairs needed at the time of his departure had been made. The men explained that they had been so busy farming and hunting that the fortifications had been neglected. Captain Boone found upon examination that this was too true. No repairs had been made, and the old wall was badly weakened in places by decay. For sixty men to attempt to withstand over four hundred Indians in this feeble fort seemed hopeless, but Boone did not despair. He knew his men and every one of them was a worker and a hero. Under his direc- tion they began at once to strengthen the palisade. For days there was a ringing of axes and a crashing of fall- ing oaks in the forests around Boonesborough that the Indian scouts heard with alarm. 48 DANIEL r.OONE. Inside of ten days the work was fniislied, and the fort was as strong as it conld well be made with sncli mate- rial. The garrison was ready for an attack, but an escaped prisoner brouglit word that the warriors had been disturbed by Boone's flight and the reports of new fortifications at Boonesborough, and would put off their expedition for three weeks. That tinii} ought not to be lost; the Indians' fear of them should be increased. So thought Boone; and he determined to take a daring step. He called for volun- teers and, with a company of nineteen men, made a bold dash into the enemy's country. He thought that if the Kcntuckiaus threatened the Indian villages the warriors might return to their homes to defend them. With this idea in view, he and his company advanced toward Paint-Crcek-Town, a village in the region where he had recently been a prisoner. When almost there they met a squad of Indians on their way to join those who were coming to attack Boonesborough. A brisk skirmish resulted, carried on according to the Indian foshion from Ijehind trees and logs. After some minutes of sharp shooting, one of the Indians was killed and two were wounded. Their comrades then fled, leaving horses and bag- gage behind. Encircled by this booty, Boone faced his men homeward, for he had learned that Paint-Creek- Town had been deserted and that the warriors were on the march. THE SIEGE OF BOONESBOROUGH. 49 You may be sure that the Indians, routed by Boone's company, in reporting the affray to their friends, pictured the force that had overpowered them as much stronger and more terrible than it really was in order to excuse their own defeat. Perhaps it was with a hope of reaching Boones- borough while so many of its defenders were away that the Indians set forth on their long-planned journey. However, by forced marches Boone outstripped the main body of the enemy, and regained the fort without the loss of a single man. This bold deed had far-reaching results, for it encour- aged the garrison greatly, and made the Indians look upon Boone and his men with almost superstitious dread. XII. — The Sikoe of Boonesborougii. If the men of Boonesborougii could have trembled with fear they must have done so when they saw the host by which their little fort was soon surrounded. There was a great horde of Indian warriors and sachems, hideous in paint and feathers, commanded by Chief Blackfish, the same who had been Boone's master when in captivity. A little band of Canadians marched with them under British and French flags. Although there were not over a dozen palefaces they added much to the strength of their allies, because of 50 DANIEL BOONE. their knowledge of stonniiig fortifications. When Daniel Boone saw them he knew that this siege wonld differ from other Indian sieges, not only in force bnt in method. And trne enongh, np came several men headed by the leader of the Canadians, Du Quesne, with a flag of trnce, and asked to see Captain Daniel Boone. As Captain Boone was not far away he appeared promptly. Du Ouesne then demanded the "surrender of the garrison in the name of His Britannic Majesty." That sounded very dreadful. They had to fight this time-not simply ignorant savages, but four hundred and fifty well-armed warriors, directed by white men experienced in arts of war, and acting under the authority of " His Majesty, the King." Captain Boone seemed deeply impressed and after a brief talk with the men around him asked for two days to consider the question. Du Quesne granted the request; for a man who is sure of victory can afford to be generous. As "all is fair in war," you will not be surprised to learn that Boone did not need two days, or two hours, or two minutes, to decide what the garrison would do. The idea of their yielding was as far from his thoughts, as the idea of their offering any serious resistance was from Du Ouesne's. He knew that they had a large force to encounter and that if the fort was taken by storm they need expect no quarter from the Indians. But those men who had come into the wilderness for THE SIEGE OF BOONESBOROUGH. 5I larger freedom, preferred death to captivity. It was no new thing for them to risk their lives against great odds, depending on their own strength and valor for the victory. Boone gave directions for the cattle to be brought in and a store of provisions and water to be collected. The fort was the scene of busy preparations for a long siege during the next two days. Even the women and children did their part, carrying water all day long from the spring. But care was taken that not many should be away from the fort at one time, and a constant watch was kept to guard against Indian treachery. No at- tempt was made to interfere with their work, however. The enemy watched all of these preparations with grim satisfaction. They had a cunning plan in mind and expected to eat the food that Boone's men were collect- ing with such labor. When the two days had passed, Du Quesne returned for an answer. Boone announced that the men of Boonesborough would resist to the last man. He then thanked the enemy for the time they had given him. He thought they would be angry and ready to fight. Instead, Du Quesne replied that before going to war they would better hear the liberal terms of surrender that General Hamilton offered them, and invited a committee of nine men to talk the matter over with them before the fort. Eight men volunteered to go with Boone to a point 52 DANIEL BOONE. within gunshot of the fort to treat with the Indians. No arms were carried by either party. Though there were only nine in Boone's party many Indians attended the council. After some talk a paper was read, saying that the people of Boonesborough • would be left in peace if they would acknowledge the sovereignty of England. The Kentuckians saw there was treachery in this fair promise, but thought it wisest to conceal their doubt. So they signed the paper and consented to shake hands with the Indians. At this, eighteen strong Indians stepped forward and two grasped each of the nine men of Boonesborough by the hand and arm and tried to drag them away. The men were on the lookout for an attack, and each putting forth his utmost strength managed to escape from his two captors. The guard at the fort saw the struggle and opened fire. The Indians be- gan firing at the same time. But, wonderful as it may seem, the entire party reached the fort with only one wounded. Trickery had failed ; the prey had escaped from their very grasp. Maddened with failure, the Indians rushed against the fort with blind fury, yelling, battering the gates, and firing wildly at the log fort. This was the beginning of a hard struggle that lasted for nine days. Both parties suffered. The Indians found no shelter within rifle-shot of the fort, and, THE SIEGE OF BOONESBOROUGH. 53 driven to open fighting, fell before the sparing but deadly fire from the fort. The little party within the fort suffered also. There were so few of them to watch and fight so many. The women proved a great help. They not only pre- pared food for the men and made bullets, but with courage that equaled the men's they stood beside them when the fight was thickest and loaded their muskets. Daniel Boone's daughter was wounded while loading her father's rifle. She was struck by an Indian bullet, but it was too far spent to do serious harm. Protected by their ramparts the men wasted no am- munition in aimless firing, but took good aim and shot to kill. A negro at the fort deserted and joined the Indians. He had a good rifle, and stationing himself in a tree within reach of the fort fired into it. Daniel Boone soon discovered the place from which these well- aimed shots were fired, and waiting till the traitor raised the upper part of his head above a branch to take aim — fired. The negro fell with his head pierced by the old hunter's bullet. Despairing of making any headway with arms, the Indians tried to burn the fort. A fire was started on the roof of one of the cabins, but it was discovered before it had done much damage. A brave young man climbed to the roof and in the face of a brisk fire from the enemy put out the flames. 54 DANIEL BOONE. By the advice of the Canadians the assailants next sought to dig an underground passage or mine to the fort. They began to dig in the river bank above the water line, out of sight from the fort, and out of reach of its guns. But the men at the fort soon guessed what they were about, by the muddy water in the river below the fort. Boone ordered a trench cut across this passage. The earth removed was thrown over the wall of the fort. When the enemy saw it they knew that their plan was discovered and would be defeated. They gave up the hope of success, and returned to their homes sullen with shame, grief, and disappoint- ment. Thirty-seven of their proud warriors were slain and many were wounded, but that was not all. They had lost hope of regaining their hunting grounds from the " Ivong Knives." The British were not less disap- pointed ; they had to bear the expense of the war ; they had lost the confidence of the Indians, and the western bulwark of American freedom was as strong as ever. The people of Boonesborough had reason to rejoice. All but six, two killed and four wounded, had escaped the fire of the enemy, which had been so heavy that after the siege they picked up one hundred and twenty- five pounds of bullets around the walls. By their suc- cess they encouraged immigration and discouraged the Indians. In short, they had saved Kentucky. And Daniel Boone was the hero of the day. DARK DAYS. 55 XIII. —Dark Days. Everybody was now talking about Boone's courage and skill, and he was rewarded by being given the rank of major. But pioneer life was full of struggles and the glory of victory was soon lost sight of in the little battles and victories of daily life. Boone went to Caro- lina for his wife and children. He was given a cordial welcome and stayed there a short time. His safe return with reports of success influenced many families to emi- grate to the west. Boone succeeded in reaching Boonesborough again, but said afterwards that his troubles on that journey would fill a book. It was at that time that he was robbed of his own fortune, and worse, of money entrusted to him by others, for the purpose of buying land. Some people accused him of dishonesty, but not those who knew him. This is what one of the men whose money he lost wrote: "I have known Boone in times of old, when poverty and distress held him fast by the hand; and in these wretched circumstances I have ever found him of a noble and generous soul, despising everything mean; and therefore I will freely grant him a discharge for whatever sums of mine he might have possessed at that time." During Boone's absence serious danger had threatened the settlement. The British had organized an army of 56 DANIEL BOONE. savages and invaded Kentucky with cannon. The frontiersmen knew that the sheltering walls that had saved them so often from Indian violence could not stand before the fire of cannon. Two stations were taken, but the difficulty of moving artillery over the rough ground caused the party to give up the undertak- ing before Boonesborough was reached. In the autumn of 1780 Boone and his brother went on an expedition to Blue Licks. On their way home they fell into an Indian ambuscade. His brother was killed and it was only by great exertion that Daniel Boone escaped. He was fleet of foot and cunning as an Indian, but he could not throw the pursuers off his trail. He discov- ered that they were led in the chase by a dog. He knew that he could not deceive the creature's instinct, and so he waited until it came near him and shot it. Without its guidance the Indians were soon outwitted by the hunter. He made the rest of his journey home without ad- venture, but with a heavy heart. The brother who had been his devoted companion through years of dan- ger and hardship had been cruelly killed, and he missed him sadly. The winter that followed was a bitter one. The ground was covered with snow from November till Feb- ruary, and the cold was so intense that cattle and even wild beasts froze to death. To add to the suffering of DARK DAYS. 57 the settlers there was a corn-famine, for much of the corn had been destroyed by the Indians. Buffalo meat was their chief food. In spite of so many hardships the settlements grew and increased. The Indians became desper- ate and rallied to make a last attempt to crush the intruders. In the summer of 1782 they invaded Kentucky under the leadership of two white men, who lived with the Indians and helped them in their attacks upon settle- ments. They assailed Bryant's Station first. But the little garrison offered a stout resistance and they were obliged to withdraw. The militia were summoned to pursue them. Then came a day terrible for the pioneers of Kentucky — a day not to be named among them with- out a thrill of horror — a day that filled the stout heart of Daniel Boone with bitterness and grief Colonel Boone (he had been made Lieutenant-Colonel) and his men, most of them veterans in Indian warfare, were among the first to answer the call for aid. With the tried soldiers of his troop was a youth about to engage in his first battle. This was Israel Boone, the son of Daniel. The company that met at Bryant's Station was a good one for any but an enemy to look at. Those men had such rugged frames, such keen, intelligent faces, and such an air of self-confidence, Their leaders were men distinguished for deeds of valor — backwoods 58 DANIEL BOONE. heroes, whose names were household words and whose adventures were fireside stories in every settlement. But there was none among them so well fitted to be guide and commander as Daniel Boone. None knew the ground so well. None knew the foe so well. None had such a glorious record as he. But the command was given to an older officer. There was some disagreement as to whether they should advance at once or wait for Colonel Logan with his men. Most were in favor of immediate pursuit. Boone advised delay. He called attention to the fact that the Indians had made no effort to conceal their route, had even marked the trees with their tomahawks as if to invite pursuit. He noticed, too, that the camp- fires were few, and inferred that the Indians were trying to hide their strength. His warning was not listened to and he was accused of cowardice. The troops advanced- without seeing anything of the enemy until they reached the Licking River at Lower Blue Licks. Here the vanguard saw a few Indians on the other side of the river. Before crossing the stream a council of officers was held. Boone again advised caution. He predicted that they would find about four or five hundred Indians in ambush in the ravines along the ridge on the other side. If they insisted on continuing he proposed a plan by which they might hope for victory. The discussion was interrupted. A rash young DARK DAYS. 59 officer raised a warwhoop and with the shout, "Those who are not cowards follow me; I will show them where the Indians are," plunged into the river. He was eagerly followed by many. Boone paused a moment, and his men stood firm waiting for his command. He believed those men were rushing to their death. But he could not stand back and let them perish without another effort to save them. He ordered his men forward. At Boone's entreaty there was another halt across the river, and scouts were sent out to examine the ravines. They reported no Indians. And the Kentuckians again went forward. As they neared the ridge the long grass in the ravines suddenly became alive with armed savages. A deadly fire was poured upon the troops from both sides. Many fell, dead or wounded. The others returned fire, but in vain. To face those terrible volleys meant death. A retreat was ordered. It became a flight. The Indians were upon the terror- stricken men, brandishing their tomahawks and mad for blood. Boone held his men together as long as there was hope of united action. Then all became disorder. It was a bitter thing for him to see those young men, the flower of the settlement, dead upon the bare earth, but when his son Israel was shot the father forgot others. He took his dying boy in his arms and with the strength 6o DANIEL BOONE. of love and despair strode through the flying bullets unhurt. Many a brave deed was done that day. One man who had been called coward proved himself valiant. He was making his escape on a fine horse when the fate of the men trying to cross the river appealed to him. He called to his comrades with the air of a commander: "Halt! Fire upon the Indians and protect our men." They obeyed and the pursuit was checked. Another brave fellow saw an old, lame officer unmounted. He gave him his own horse and took his chance of escape on foot. The fugitives were pursued for twenty miles, but most of those who got across the river in safety escaped. About sixty of the Kentuckians fell that day and as many Indians. The grief throughout the settlements was bitter and their revenge was terrible. A thousand frontiersmen commanded by George Rog- ers Clark, the famous hero of the Northwest, were soon marching into the Indian country. With them went Daniel Boone, in whose advice everybody placed the greatest confidence. The Kentuckians crossed the Ohio River, and marched rapidly upon the Indian towns on the Miami River. The red men were taken by surprise while celebrating the victory which they had gained at Blue lyicks. Clark's army was within two miles of their principal town when they first learned of its approach. They OLD AGE. 6l fled in the greatest haste, and made no attempt to defend their homes. The frontiersmen burned all the Indian towns on the Miami, destroyed the crops, and killed every Indian that came in their way. The red men had never been so severely punished, and they were greatly disheartened. "They learned," said Boone, "that it was useless for them to keep on fighting with the whites." After this, the Indians made but little serious trouble in Kentucky. The settlers now felt themselves secure, and they could give more attention to their clearings and farms. But a few red men still lurked in the woods, or came across the Ohio River, intent upon mischief. And it was not until some years later that life was entirely safe throughout the Kentucky settlements. XIV.— Old Age. Peace was declared between England and America and the Indians were no longer incited by the British to attack the settlers. The harsh punishment they had received for their last expedition had its effect too, and the Red Men gave up trying to conquer the "Long Knives. " Kentucky was dotted with cabins and block- 62 DANIEL BOONE, houses. The day of Indian wars had passed. Bnt the savages still troubled lonely farmers. They were ever on the watch to attack the defenseless or kidnap children. Daniel Boone built a neat log-house on a fine large farm, where he lived surrounded by his family and friends. He was a marked man and the Indians would have been glad at any time to capture him. One day he was in his barn loft, examining his tobacco, which had been thrown across the rafters to dry. Hearing a noise, he looked down and saw four well-armed Indians standing below him. "Now, Boone," cried the leader, "we've got you. You no get away any more. We take you off to Chilli- cothe this time. You no cheat us any more." Boone saw their loaded guns pointed at him, and knew that resistance would be useless. But he recognized the men as old acquaintances belonging to the same party that had captured him years before when making salt at Blue Licks. So he said pleasantly, "Ah, my friends, how glad I am to see you! Just wait till I have turned the rest of this tobacco, and then I'll come down and shake hands with you." The red men wanted him to come down at once; but when he told them he would go quietly with them, they consented to let him finish his work. Boone, while busy tossing his tobacco about, chatted pleasantly with the four savages, and recalled the old OLD AGE. 63 times when he had competed with them in hunting and in shooting at a mark. They became so deeply inter- ested in what he was saying that they forgot themselves and put their guns down upon the ground. Suddenly Boone threw a quantity of the dry tobacco, full of dust, down into their upturned faces. At the same moment he jumped upon them with as much of the tobacco as he could carry in his arms, filling their eyes and mouths with the choking, blinding dust. Then, before they could recover themselves, he ran as fast as he could towards his cabin. He had gone but a little distance when he looked around to see what the Indians were doing. To his great amusement he saw them groping around as though blinded, reaching out their hands to find their rifles, and feeling their way out of the dense cloud of tobacco dust. He could not avoid a taunting laugh, while the Indians cursed themselves as fools and called after him in no pleasant manner. But he was soon safe in his cabin, and the four savages were obliged to return sadly to their people without the prisoner whom they had hoped to bring. Although shrewd in his dealings with Indians, Daniel Boone was simple and straightforward in his dealings with men of his own race and he expected the same treatment from them. He was therefore surprised and indignant to find that because he had neglected some legal formality the land that he had discovered, explored, 64 DANIEL BOONE. wrested from the Indians, cleared and cultivated, be- longed, not to liim, but to the man who had signed the proper papers. He loved Kentucky. The soil, the trees, the rocks, the rivers, were dear to him. Here he had spent the most eventful years of his life and known his deepest sorrows and keenest joys. He was proud of it. Its settlement was in a large measure his work. But he was homeless in the land where he had founded homes for others. He made a brief visit to his birthplace in Pennsyl- vania, then went to Virginia, where he found a lonely spot near Point Pleasant on the Great Kanawha in the center of a rich game district. There he lived for five years, finding quiet enjoyment in the wild woods with his gun and his dogs. Then there came to him glowing reports from the land beyond the Mississippi. He had a brother and son there, and their descriptions of life in that region made him think of early days in Ken- tucky. He determined to join them. So at sixty years of age, the great pioneer, accompanied by his faithful wife, started west again, away from civilization into the wilderness. This was a fortunate move. His fame had gone before him and he received a warm welcome. The Spanish governor saw what an influence the coming of such a man as Boone would have on the settlement of OLD AGE. 65 the territory and was glad to honor him. He made him commander of the Femme Osage District in what is now the state of Missouri, and presented him with eight thousand five hundred acres of laud. He worked hard at trapping and hunting and when he had saved some money returned to Kentucky. The growth of civilization there seemed almost magical to the man who could remember the winter when he was the only white inhabitant of the vast territory. But curiosity had not brought the pioneer to Kentucky. He had come to return the money he had lost by that unfortunate robbery, and so relieve his mind from a burden that had troubled him for more than fifteen years. He hunted up every man to whom he was indebted, and having paid every dollar he owed, returned to Missouri with a much lighter heart and a much lighter pocket-book. He was well pleased with his new home. Its great forests and simple people suited him. Here he lived over the delights of his old Kentucky life without suf- fering its hardships. At the age of seventy-five, and until his eyesight failed, he was as great a hunter as in his younger days. Sometimes he would spend days and weeks in the woods, far from any settlement, and exposed to all sorts of danger. There were still many Indians in that part of the country, and some of them were always making trouble 66 DANIEL BOONE. for the white settlers. But Boone understood them so well, and was so shrewd in his dealings with them, that they were never able to harm him. When in the woods, however, he was obliged to be very watchful. He knew how to place his beaver traps where the Indians could not find them; he knew how to conceal his own trail so that they could not follow it; even the little hut, in which he lived when out hunting, was so well hidden in some leafy thicket that no one could guess where to look for it. In the trapping of beavers, Boone took the greatest delight. Paddling alone in his light canoe, he explored the creeks and streamlets in his neighborhood, and even the great Missouri itself, setting his traps and gathering a rich harvest of furs. At one time, with a little negro boy twelve years old, he took pack-horses and made a long jour- ney through the woods to the country on the Osage River. There he built a winter camp, intending to hunt and trap until he had skins enough to load his horses. He had hardly laid in his supplies for the winter, before he was taken very sick. For weeks he lay in the little hut with no one to care for him but the little negro boy. ''Tom,'' he said, "if I die you must bury me under the great oak on the top of that hill. Then you must catch the horses, tie the blankets and skins on their backs, and take them home. Be sure to take OLD AGE. 67 my rifle with you, too; and tell all the folks at home that I remembered them to the last." But toward spring the old man rallied and soon grew strong again; and on the first fine day he broke up camp, mounted one of his horses, and returned home; but he did not carry many beaver skins with him that time. So long as the Spanish and the French had control of the Missouri country, Boone was safe in the possession of his lands. But when the territory came into the hands of the United States, the government refused to recognize his claim. In the meantime Kentucky had become a state, and in his distress Boone appealed to its legislature for help. Glad to serve the founder of the state, the legislature had the matter presented to Congress. In consideration for his services to the country Congress granted Colonel Boone eight hundred and fifty acres of land. In December, 181 3, Boone received word of this gift, but the enjoyment of the good news was blighted by the death of his wife. Boone chose a beautiful spot overlooking the river for her grave and expressed a wish to be buried beside her. Boone was now a silvery-haired old man. His eyes were too dim to hunt ; and he spent the remainder of his life in peace and content with his sons and daugh- ters. You may be sure he was a most delightful grand- father and always had a story to tell the boys. 68 DANIEL BOONE. He died, in 1820, at the aj;c of eighty-five, sniTouiided by relatives and loving friends, and was bnried beside his wife. Bnt twenty-five years later the remains of both were removed to the cemetery of Frankfort, Ken- tnck)-, with groat ]>onip and ceremony. So the noble pioneer is at rest in the land he loved. BOONK'S MONUMKNT, KRAN'KrOKT, KY. THIi IMONEliRS. 69 Till'; I'lONlClCRS. Hero once Hooiio trod— the hardy pioiiocr— The only white inau in the wilderness; Oh! how he loved alone to hunt the deer, Alone at eve his simple meal to dress; No murk upon the tree, nor print, nor traek. To lead liim forward, or to guide him baek; He roved the forest, king hy main atul might, And looked up to the sky and shaped his course aright. The mountain there, that lifts its bald, high hea