To support their extravagant style of living, these minions of power, magistrates, lawyers, clerks of court, and tax-gatherers, demanded exorbitant fees for their services. The Episcopal clergy, supported by a legalized tax on the people, were not content with their salaries, but charged enormous fees for their occasional services. A fee of fifteen dollars was exacted from the poor farmer for performing the marriage service. The collection of taxes was enforced by suits at law, with enormous expense; and executions, levies, and distresses were of every-day occurrence. All sums exceeding forty shillings were sued for and executions obtained in the courts, the original debt being saddled with extortionate bills of cost. Sheriffs demanded more than was due, under threats of sheriff's sales; and they applied the gains thus made to their own use. Money, as is always the case in a new country, was exceedingly scarce, and the sufferings of the people were intolerable.

Pet.i.tions to the Legislature for a redress of grievances were treated with contempt. The people a.s.sembled and formed themselves into an a.s.sociation for _regulating_ public grievances and abuse of power.

Hence the name given to them of Regulators. They resolved "to pay only such taxes as were agreeable to law and applied to the purpose therein named, to pay no officer more than his legal fees." The subsequent proceedings of the Regulators, such as forcible resistance to officers and acts of personal violence toward them, at length brought on an actual collision between them and an armed force led by the Royal Governor, Tryon (May 16 1771,) at Alamanance, in which the Regulators were defeated; and the grievances continued with scarcely abated force till the Revolution brought relief.

Under these circ.u.mstances, it is not surprising that Daniel Boone and others were quite willing to migrate to the West, if it were only to enjoy a quiet life; the dangers of Indian aggression being less dreaded than the visits of the tax-gather and the sheriff; and the solitude of the forest and prairie being preferred to the society of insolent foreigners; flaunting in the luxury and ostentation purchased by the spoils of fraud and oppression.

Among the hunters and traders who pursued their avocations in the Western wilds was John Finley, or Findley, who led a party of hunters in 1767 to the neighborhood of the Louisa River, as the Kentucky River was then called, and spent the season in hunting and trapping. On his return, he visited Daniel Boone, and gave him a most glowing description of the country which he had visited--a country abounding in the richest and most fertile land, intersected by n.o.ble rivers, and teeming with herds of deer and buffaloes and numerous flocks of wild turkeys, to say nothing of the smaller game. To these descriptions Boone lent a willing ear. He resolved to accompany Finley in his next hunting expedition, and to see this terrestrial paradise with his own eyes, doubtless with the intention of ultimately seeking a home in that delightful region.

Accordingly, a company of six persons was formed for a new expedition to the West, and Boone was chosen as leader. The names of the other members of this party were John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Moncey, and William Cool.

Much preparation seems to have been required. Boone's wife, who was one of the best of housekeepers and managers, had to fit out his clothes, and to make arrangements for house-keeping during his expected long absence. His sons were now old enough to a.s.sist their mother in the management of the farm, but, doubtless, they had to be supplied with money and other necessaries before the father could venture to leave home; so that it was not till the 1st of May, 1769, that the party were able to set out, as Boone, in his autobiography, expresses it, "in quest of the country of Kentucky."

It was more than a month before these adventurers came in sight of the promised land. We quote from Mr. Peck's excellent work the description which undoubtedly formed the authority on which the artist has relied in painting the accompanying engraving of "Daniel Boone's first view of Kentucky." It is as follows:

"It was on the 7th of June, 1769, that six men, weary and wayworn, were seen winding their way up the steep side of a rugged mountain in the wilderness of Kentucky. Their dress was of the description usually worn at that period by all forest rangers. The outside garment was a hunting shirt, or loose open frock, made of dressed deer skins. Leggings or drawers, of the same material, covered the lower extremities, to which was appended a pair of moccasins for the feet. The cape or collar of the hunting shirt, and the seams of the leggings, were adorned with fringes. The under garments were of coa.r.s.e cotton. A leather belt encircled the body; on the right side was suspended the tomahawk, to be used as a hatchet: on the left side was the hunting-knife, powder-horn, bullet-pouch, and other appendages indispensable for a hunter. Each person bore his trusty rifle; and, as the party slowly made their toilsome way amid the shrubs, and over the logs and loose rocks that accident had thrown into the obscure trail which they were following, each man kept a sharp look-out, as though danger or a lurking enemy was near. Their garments were soiled and rent, the unavoidable result of long traveling and exposure to the heavy rains that had fallen; for the weather had been stormy and most uncomfortable, and they had traversed a mountainous wilderness for several hundred miles. The leader of the party was of full size, with a hardy, robust, sinewy frame, and keen, piercing, hazel eyes, that glanced with quickness at every object as they pa.s.sed on, now cast forward in the direction they were traveling for signs of an old trail, and in the next moment directed askance into the dense thicket, or into the deep ravine, as if watching some concealed enemy. The reader will recognize in this man the pioneer Boone, at the head of his companions."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOONE'S FIRST VIEW OF KENTUCKY.]

"Toward the time of the setting sun, the party had reached the summit of the mountain range, up which they had toiled for some three or four hours, and which had bounded their prospect to the west during the day.

Here new and indescribable scenery opened to their view. Before them, for an immense distance, as if spread out on a map, lay the rich and beautiful vales watered by the Kentucky River; for they had now reached one of its northern branches. The country immediately before them, to use a Western phrase, was 'rolling,' and, in places, abruptly hilly; but far in the vista was seen a beautiful expanse of level country, over which the buffalo, deer, and other forest animals, roamed unmolested while they fed on the luxuriant herbage of the forest. The countenances of the party lighted up with pleasure, congratulations were exchanged, the romantic tales of Finley were confirmed by ocular demonstration, and orders were given to encamp for the night in a neighboring ravine. In a deep gorge of the mountain a large tree had fallen, surrounded with a dense thicket, and hidden from observation by the abrupt and precipitous hills. This tree lay in a convenient position for the back of their camp. Logs were placed on the right and left, leaving the front open, where fire might be kindled against another log; and for shelter from the rains and heavy dews, bark was peeled from the linden tree."

This rude structure appears to have been the head-quarters of the hunters through the whole summer and autumn, till late in December.

During this time, they hunted the deer, the bear, and especially the buffalo. The buffaloes were found in great numbers, feeding on the leaves of the cane, and the rich and spontaneous fields of clover.

During this long period, they saw no Indians. That part of the country was not inhabited by any tribe at that time, although it was used occasionally as a hunting ground by the Shawanese, the Cherokees and the Chickesaws. The land at that time belonged to the colony of Virginia, which then included what is now called Kentucky. The t.i.tle to the ground was acquired by a treaty with the Indians, Oct. 5th, 1770. The Iroquois, at the treaty of Fort Stanwix, in 1768, had already ceded their doubtful claim to the land south of the Ohio River, to Great Britain; so that Boone's company of hunters were not trespa.s.sing upon Indian territory at this time.[14] But they were destined nevertheless to be treated as intruders.

On the 22d of December, Boone and John Stuart, one of his companions, left their encampment, and following one of the numerous paths which the buffalo had made through the cane, they plunged boldly into the interior of the forest. They had as yet, as we have already stated, seen no Indians, and the country had been reported as totally uninhabited. This was true in a strict sense, for although, as we have seen, the southern and northwestern tribes were in the habit of hunting here as upon neutral ground, yet not a single wigwam had been erected, nor did the land bear the slightest mark of having ever been cultivated.

The different tribes would fall in with each other and from the fierce conflicts which generally followed these casual rencounters, the country had been known among them by the name of '_the dark and b.l.o.o.d.y ground!_'

The two adventurers soon learned the additional danger to which they were exposed. While roving carelessly from canebrake to canebrake, and admiring the rank growth of vegetation, and the variety of timber which marked the fertility of the soil, they were suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a party of Indians, who, springing from their place of concealment, rushed upon them with a rapidity which rendered escape impossible.

They were almost instantly seized, disarmed, and made prisoners. Their feelings may be readily imagined. They were in the hands of an enemy who knew no alternative between adoption and torture; and the numbers and fleetness of their captors, rendered escape by open means impossible, while their jealous vigilance seemed equally fatal to any secret attempt.

Boone, however, was possessed of a temper admirably adapted to the circ.u.mstances in which he was placed. Of a cold and saturnine, rather than an arden disposition, he was never either so much elevated by good fortune or depressed by bad, as to lose for an instant the full possession of all his faculties. He saw that immediate escape was impossible, but he encouraged his companion, and constrained himself to accompany the Indians in all their excursions, with so calm and contented an air, that their vigilance insensibly began to relax.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTURE OF BOONE AND STUART.]

On the seventh evening of their captivity, they encamped in a thick canebrake, and having built a large fire, lay down to rest. The party whose duty it was to watch, were weary and negligent, and about midnight, Boone, who had not closed an eye, ascertained from the deep breathing all around him, that the whole party, including Stuart, was in a deep sleep.

Gently and gradually extricating himself from the Indians who lay around him, he walked cautiously to the spot where Stuart lay, and having succeeded in awakening him, without alarming the rest, he briefly informed him of his determination, and exhorted him to arise, make no noise, and follow him. Stuart, although ignorant of the design, and suddenly roused from sleep, fortunately obeyed with equal silence and celerity, and within a few minutes they were beyond hearing.

Rapidly traversing the forest, by the light of the stars and the bark of the trees, they ascertained the direction in which the camp lay, but upon reaching it on the next day, to their great grief, they found it plundered and deserted, with nothing remaining to show the fate of their companions: and even to the day of his death, Boone knew not whether they had been killed or taken, or had voluntarily abandoned their cabin and returned.[15]

Indeed it has never been ascertained what became of Finley and the rest of Boone's party of hunters. If Finley himself had returned to Carolina, so remarkable a person would undoubtedly have left some trace of himself in the history of his time; but no trace exists of any of the party who were left at the old camp by Boone and Stuart. Boone and Stuart resumed their hunting, although their ammunition was running low, and they were compelled, by the now well-known danger of Indian hostilities, to seek for more secret and secure hiding-places at night than their old encampment in the ravine.

The only kind of firearms used by the backwoods hunter is the rifle.

In the use of this weapon Boone was exceedingly skillful. The following anecdote, related by the celebrated naturalist, Audubon,[16] shows that he retained his wonderful precision of aim till a late period of his life.

"Barking off squirrels is delightful sport, and, in my opinion, requires a greater degree of accuracy than any other. I first witnessed this manner of procuring squirrels whilst near the town of Frankfort.

The performer was the celebrated Daniel Boone. We walked out together, and followed the rocky margins of the Kentucky River, until we reached a piece of flat land thickly covered with black walnuts, oaks, and hickories. As the general mast was a good one that year, squirrels were seen gamboling on every tree around us. My companion, a stout, hale, and athletic man, dressed in a homespun hunting-shirt, bare-legged and moccasined, carried a long and heavy rifle, which, as he was loading it, he said had proved efficient in all his former undertakings, and which he hoped would not fail on this occasion, as he felt proud to show me his skill. The gun was wiped, the powder measured, the ball patched with six-hundred-thread linen, and the charge sent home with a hickory rod.

We moved not a step from the place, for the squirrels were so numerous that it was unnecessary to go after them. Boone pointed to one of these animals which had observed us, and was crouched on a branch about fifty paces distant, and bade me mark well the spot where the ball should hit.

He raised his piece gradually, until the _bead_ (that being the name given by the Kentuckians to the _sight_) of the barrel was brought to a line with the spot which he intended to hit. The whip-like report resounded through the woods and along the hills in repeated echoes.

Judge of my surprise, when I perceived that the ball had hit the piece of the bark immediately beneath the squirrel, and shivered it into splinters, the concussion produced by which had killed the animal, and sent it whirling through the air, as if it had been blown up by the explosion of a powder magazine. Boone kept up his firing, and before many hours had elapsed, we had procured as many squirrels as we wished; for you must know that to load a rifle requires only a moment, and that if it is wiped once after each shot, it will do duty for hours. Since that first interview with our veteran Boone, I have seen many other individuals perform the same feat."

[Footnote 14: Peck. Life of Boone.]

[Footnote 15: McClung. "Western Adventures."]

[Footnote 16: Ornithological Biography, pp. 293-4.]

CHAPTER V

Arrival of Squire Boone and a companion at the camp of Daniel Boone--Joyful meeting--News from home, and hunting resumed--Daniel Boone and Stuart surprised by the Indians, Stuart killed--Escape of Boone, and his return to camp--Squire Boone's companion lost in the woods--Residence of Daniel Boone and Squire Boone in the wilderness--Squire returns to North Carolina, obtains a fresh supply of ammunition, and again rejoins his brother at the old camp--Daniel Boone's own account of this remarkable period of his life--His return to North Carolina--His determination to settle in Kentucky--Other Western adventurers--The Long hunters--Washington in Kentucky--Bullitt's party--Floyd's party--Thompson's survey--First settlement of Tennessee.

In the early part of the month of January, 1770, Boone and Stuart were agreeably surprised by the arrival of Squire Boone, the younger brother of Daniel, accompanied by another man, whose name has not been handed down. The meeting took place as they were hunting in the woods. The new-comers were hailed at a distance with the usual greeting, "'Holloa!

strangers, who are you?" to which they answered, "White men and friends." And friends indeed they were--friends in need; for they brought a supply of ammunition, and news from Daniel Boone's home and family on the Yadkin. They had had a weary journey through the wilderness, and although they had met with no Indians on their way, they had frequently come upon their traces in pa.s.sing through the woods.

Their purpose in undertaking this formidable journey had been to learn the fate of Boone and his party, whose safety was nearly despaired of by his friends in North Carolina, to hunt for themselves, and to convey a supply of ammunition to Boone. It is difficult to conceive the joy with which their opportune arrival was welcomed. They informed Boone that they had just seen the last night's encampment of Stuart and himself, so that the joyful meeting was not wholly unantic.i.p.ated by them.

Thus reinforced, the party, now consisting of four skillful hunters, might reasonably hope for increased security, and a fortunate issue to their protracted hunting tour. But they hunted in separate parties; and in one of these Daniel Boone and Stuart fell in with a party of Indians, who fired upon them. Stuart was shot dead and scalped by the Indians, but Boone escaped in the forest, and rejoined his brother and the remaining hunter of the party.

A few days afterward this hunter was lost in the woods, and did not return as usual to the camp. Daniel and Squire made a long and anxious search for him; but it was all in vain. Years afterward a skeleton was discovered in the woods, which was supposed to be that of the lost hunter.

The two brothers were thus left in the wilderness alone, separated by several hundred miles from home, surrounded by hostile Indians, and dest.i.tute of every thing but their rifles. After having had such melancholy experience of the dangers to which they were exposed, we would naturally suppose that their fort.i.tude would have given way, and that they would instantly have returned to the settlements. But the most remarkable feature in Boone's character was a calm and cold equanimity which rarely rose to enthusiasm and never sunk to despondence.

His courage undervalued the danger to which he was exposed, and his presence of mind, which never forsook him, enabled him, on all occasions to take the best means of avoiding it. The wilderness, with all its dangers and privations, had a charm for him, which is scarcely conceivable by one brought up in a city; and he determined to remain alone while his brother returned to Carolina for an additional supply of ammunition, as their original supply was nearly exhausted. His situation we should now suppose in the highest degree gloomy and dispiriting. The dangers which attended his brother on his return were nearly equal to his own; and each had left a wife and children, which Boone acknowledged cost him many an anxious thought.

But the wild and solitary grandeur of the country around him, where not a tree had been cut, nor a house erected, was to him an inexhaustible source of admiration and delight; and he says to himself, that some of the most rapturous moments of his life were spent in those lonely rambles. The utmost caution was necessary to avoid the savages, and scarcely less to escape the ravenous hunger of the wolves that prowled nightly around him in immense numbers. He was compelled frequently to shift his lodging, and by undoubted signs, saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited his hut during his absence. He some times lay in canebrakes without fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around him.

Fortunately, however, he never encountered them.[17]

Mr. Perkins, in his Annals of the West, speaking of this sojourn of the brothers in the wilderness, says: And now commenced that most extraordinary life on the part of these two men which has, in a great measure, served to give celebrity to their names; we refer to their residence, entirely alone, for more than a year, in a land filled with the most subtle and unsparing enemies, and under the influence of no other motive, apparently, than a love of adventure, of Nature, and of solitude. Nor were they, during this time, always together. For three months, Daniel remained amid the forest utterly by himself, while his brother, with courage and capacity equal to his own, returned to North Carolina for a supply of powder and lead; with which he succeeded in rejoining the roamer of the wilderness in safety in July, 1770.

It is almost impossible to conceive of the skill, coolness, and sagacity which enabled Daniel Boone to spend so many weeks in the midst of the Indians, and yet undiscovered by them. He appears to have changed his position continually--to have explored the whole centre of what forms now the State of Kentucky, and in so doing must have exposed himself to many different parties of the natives. A reader of Mr. Cooper's Last of the Mohicans may comprehend, in some measure, the arts by which he was preserved; but, after all, a natural gift seems to lie at the basis of such consummate woodcraft; an instinct, rather than any exercise of intellect, appears to have guided Boone in such matters, and made him pre-eminent among those who were most accomplished in the knowledge of forest life. Then we are to remember the week's captivity of the previous year; it was the first practical acquaintance that the pioneer had with the Western Indians, and we may be a.s.sured he spent that week in noting carefully the whole method of his captors. Indeed, we think it probable he remained in captivity so long that he might learn their arts, stratagems, and modes of concealment. We are, moreover, to keep in mind this fact: the woods of Kentucky were at that period filled with a species of nettle of such a character that, being once bent down, it did not recover itself, but remained prostrate, thus retaining the impression of a foot almost like snow--even a turkey might be tracked in it with perfect ease. This weed Boone would carefully avoid, but the natives, numerous and fearless, would commonly pay no regard to it, so that the white hunter was sure to have palpable signs of the presence of his enemies, and the direction they had taken. Considering these circ.u.mstances, it is even more remarkable that his brother should have returned in safety, with his loaded horses, than that he remained alone unharmed; though in the escape of both from captivity or death from January, 1770, until their return to the Atlantic rivers in March, 1771, there is something so wonderful that the old pioneer's phrase, that he was "an instrument ordained to settle the wilderness," seems entirely proper.

Daniel Boone's own account of this period of his life, contained in his autobiography, is highly characteristic. It is as follows:

"Thus situated, many hundred miles from our families in the howling wilderness, I believe few would have equally enjoyed the happiness we experienced. I often observed to my brother, 'You see now how little nature requires to be satisfied. Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found in our own b.r.e.a.s.t.s than in the enjoyment of external things; and I firmly believe it requires but a little philosophy to make a man happy in whatsoever state he is. This consists in a full resignation to Providence, and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with briers and thorns.'

"We continued not in a state of indolence, but hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to defend us from the winter storms. We remained there undisturbed during the winter; and on the first of May, 1770, my brother returned home to the settlement by himself for a new recruit of horses and ammunition, leaving me by myself, without bread, salt, or sugar, without company of my fellow-creatures, or even a horse or dog. I confess I never before was under greater necessity of exercising philosophy and fort.i.tude. A few days I pa.s.sed uncomfortably.

The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on account of my absence and exposed situation, made sensible impressions on my heart.

A thousand dreadful apprehensions presented themselves to my view, and had undoubtedly disposed me to melancholy if further indulged.

"One day I undertook a tour through the country, and the diversity and beauties of Nature I met with in this charming season expelled every gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close of day the gentle gales retired, and left the place to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, I surveyed the famous river Ohio, that rolled in silent dignity, marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows, and penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The fallen shades of night soon overspread the whole hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gape after the hovering moisture. My roving excursion this day had fatigued my body, and diverted my imagination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke not until the sun had chased away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few days explored a considerable part of the country, each day equally pleased as the first. I returned to my old camp, which was not disturbed in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed in thick canebrakes to avoid the savages, who, I believe, often visited my camp, but fortunately for me in my absence. In this situation I was constantly exposed to danger and death. How unhappy such a situation for a man tormented with fear, which is vain if no danger comes, and, if it does, only augments the pain. It was my happiness to be dest.i.tute of this afflicting pa.s.sion, with which I had the greatest reason to be affected. The prowling wolves diverted my nocturnal hours with perpetual howlings; and the various species of animals in this vast forest in the daytime were continually in my view.

"Thus I was surrounded with plenty in the midst of want. I was happy in the midst of dangers and inconveniences. In such a diversity it was impossible I should be disposed to melancholy. No populous city, with all the varieties of commerce and stately structures, could afford so much pleasure to my mind as the beauties of Nature I found here.