No incidents of great importance occurred in this quarter, until August 3d, of the next year when a definitive treaty was concluded by General Wayne, with the hostile Indians north-west of the Ohio. By this treaty, the destructive war which had so long desolated that frontier, was ended in a manner acceptable to the United States. An accommodation was also brought about with the southern Indians, notwithstanding the intrigues of their Spanish neighbors. The regions of the Mississippi valley were opened on all sides to immigration, and rescued from the dread of Indian hostilities.

CHAPTER XIV.

Rejoicings on account of the peace--Boone indulges his propensity for hunting--Kentucky increases in population--Some account of their conflicting land t.i.tles--Progress of civil improvement destroying the range of the hunter--Litigation of land t.i.tles--Boone loses his lands--Removes from Kentucky to the Kanawha--Leaves the Kanawha and goes to Missouri, where he is appointed Commandant.

The peace which followed the defeat of the northern tribes of Indians by General Wayne, was most grateful to the hara.s.sed settlers of the west.

The news of it was received every where with the most lively joy. Every one had cause of gratulation. The hardy warriors, whose exploits we have recounted, felt that they were relieved from the immense responsibilities which rested upon them as the guardians and protectors of the infant settlements. The new settlers could now clear their wild lands, and cultivate their rich fields in peace--without fearing the ambush and the rifles of a secret foe; and the tenants of the scattered cabins could now sleep in safety, and without the dread of being wakened by the midnight war-whoop of the savage. Those who had been pent up in forts and stations joyfully sallied forth, and settled wherever the soil and local advantages appeared the most inviting.

Colonel Boone, in particular, felt that a firm and resolute perseverance had finally triumphed over every obstacle. That the rich and boundless valleys of the great west--the garden of the earth--and the paradise of hunters, had been won from the dominion of the savage tribes, and opened as an asylum for the oppressed, the enterprising, and the free of every land. He had travelled in every direction through this great valley. He had descended from the Alleghanies into the fertile regions of Tennessee, and traced the courses of the c.u.mberland and Tennessee rivers. He had wandered with delight through the blooming forests of Kentucky. He had been carried prisoner by the Indians through the wilderness which is now the state of Ohio to the great lakes of the north; he had traced the head waters of the Kentucky, the Wabash, the Miamies, the Scioto, and other great rivers of the west, and had followed their meanderings to their entrance into the Ohio; he had stood upon the sh.o.r.es of this beautiful river, and gazed with admiration, as he pursued its winding and placid course through endless forests to mingle with the Mississippi; he had caught some glimmerings of the future, and saw with the prophetic eye of a patriot, that this great valley must soon become the abode of millions of freemen; and his heart swelled with joy, and warmed with a transport which was natural to a mind so unsophisticated and disinterested as his.

Boone rejoiced in a peace which put an end to his perils and anxieties, and which now gave him full leisure and scope to follow his darling pursuit of hunting. He had first been led to the country by that spirit of the hunter, which in him amounted almost to a pa.s.sion. This propensity may be said to be natural to man. Even in cities and populous places we find men so fond of this pastime that they ransack the cultivated fields and enclosures of the farmer, for the purpose of killing the little birds and squirrels, which, from their insignificance, have ventured to take up their abode with civilized man.

What, then, must have been the feelings of Boone, to find himself in the grand theatre of the hunter--filled with buffaloes, deer, bears, wild turkeys, and other n.o.ble game?

The free exercise of this darling pa.s.sion had been checked and restrained, ever since the first settlement of the country, by the continued wars and hostile incursions of the Indians. The path of the hunter had been ambushed by the wily savage, and he seldom ventured beyond the purlieus of his cabin, or the station where he resided. He was now free to roam in safety through the pathless wilderness--to camp out in security whenever he was overtaken by night; and to pursue the game wherever it was to be found in the greatest abundance.

Civilization had not yet driven the primitive tenants of the forest from their favorite retreats. Most of the country was still in a state of nature--unsettled and unappropriated. Few fences or inclosures impeded the free range of the hunter, and very few buts and bounds warned him of his being about to trespa.s.s upon the private property of some neighbor.

Herds of buffaloes and deer still fed upon the rich cane-brake and rank vegetation of the boundless woods, and resorted to the numerous Licks for salt and drink.

Boone now improved this golden opportunity of indulging in his favorite pursuit. He loved to wander alone, with his unerring rifle upon his shoulder, through the labyrinths of the tangled forests, and to rouse the wild beast from his secret lair. There was to him a charm in these primeval solitudes which suited his peculiar temperament, and he frequently absented himself on these lonely expeditions for days together. He never was known to return without being loaded with the spoils of the chase. The choicest viands and t.i.tbits of all the forest-fed animals were constantly to be found upon his table. Not that Boone was an epicure; far from it. He would have been satisfied with a soldier's fare. In common with other pioneers of his time, he knew what it was to live upon roots and herbs for days together. He had suffered hunger and want in all its forms without a murmur or complaint. But when peace allowed him to follow his profession of a hunter, and to exercise that tact and superiority which so much distinguished him, he selected from the abundance and profusion of the game which fell victims to his skill, such parts as were most esteemed. His friends and neighbors were also, at all times, made welcome to a share of whatever he killed. And he continued to live in this primitive simplicity--enjoying the luxury of hunting, and of roving in the woods, and indulging his generous and disinterested disposition towards his neighbors, for several years after the peace.

In the meantime, while Boone had been thus courting solitude, and absorbed by the engrossing excitement of hunting, the restless spirit of immigration, and of civil and physical improvement, had not been idle.

After the peace the tide of population poured into the country in a continual stream and the busy spirit of civilization was every where making inroads into the ancient forests, and encroaching upon the dominions of the hunter.

In order, however, that the reader may more readily comprehend the causes which operated as grievances to Boone, and finally led him to abandon Kentucky, and seek a home in regions more congenial, it will be necessary to allude to the progress made in population, and the civil polity, and incidents attending the settlement of the country.

The state of Kentucky was not surveyed by the government and laid off into sections and townships as has been the case with all the lands north of the Ohio. But the government of Virginia had issued land warrants, or certificates ent.i.tling the holder to locate wherever he might choose, the number of acres named in the warrant. They also grave to actual settlers certain pre-emption rights to such lands as they might occupy and improve by building a cabin, raising a crop, &c. The holders of these warrants, after selecting the land which they intended to cover, with their t.i.tles, were required to enter a survey and description of the tracts selected, in the Land office, which had been opened for the purpose, to be recorded there, for the information of others, and to prevent subsequent holders of warrants from locating the same lands. Yet notwithstanding these precautions, such was the careless manner in which these surveys were made, that many illiterate persons, ignorant of the forms of law, and the necessity of precision in the specification and descriptions of the tracts on which they had laid their warrants, made such loose and vague entries in the land office, as to afford no accurate information to subsequent locators, who frequently laid their warrants on the same tracts. It thus happened that the whole or a part of almost every tract was covered with different and conflicting t.i.tles--forming what have been aptly called 'shingle t.i.tles'--overlaying and lapping upon each other, as shingles do upon the roof of a building. In this way twice the existing acres of land were sold and the door opened for endless controversy about boundaries and t.i.tles. The following copy of an entry may serve as a specimen of the vagueness of the lines, buts, and bounds of their claims, and as accounting for the flood of litigation that ensued.

"George Smith enters nine hundred acres of land on a treasury warrant, lying on the north side of Kentucky river, a mile below a creek; beginning about twenty poles below a lick; and running down the river westwardly, and northwestwardly for quant.i.ty."

It will easily be seen that a description, so general and indefinite in its terms, could serve as no guide to others who might wish to avoid entering the same lands. This defect in providing for the certainty and safety of land t.i.tles, proved a sore evil to the state of Kentucky. As these lands increased in value and importance, controversies arose as to the ownership of almost every tract: and innumerable suits, great strife and excitement, prevailed in every neighborhood, and continued until within a late period, to agitate the whole body of society. The legislature of the state, by acts of limitation and judicious legislation upon the subject, have finally quieted the t.i.tles of the actual occupants.

Among others who made these loose and unfortunate entries, was Daniel Boone. Unaccustomed to the forms of law and technical precision, he was guided by his own views of what was proper and requisite, and made such brief and general entries, as were afterwards held not sufficient to identify the land. He had discovered and explored the country when it was all one vast wilderness--unoccupied, and unclaimed. He and a few other hardy pioneers, by almost incredible hardships, dangers, and sacrifices, had won it from the savage foe; and judging from his own single and generous mind, he did not suppose that question would ever be made of his right to occupy such favorite portions as he might select and pay for. He did not think it possible that any one, knowing these circ.u.mstances, could be found so greedy or so heartless, as to grudge him the quiet and unmolested enjoyment of what he had so dearly earned.

But in this he was sadly mistaken. A set of speculators and interlopers, who, following in the train of civilization and wealth, came to enrich themselves by monopolizing the rich lands which had thus been won for them, and by the aid of legal advisers, following all the nice requisitions of the law, pounced, among others, upon the lands of our old pioneer. He was not at first disturbed by these speculating harpies; and game being plenty, he gave himself little uneasiness about the claims and t.i.tles to particular spots, so long as he had such vast hunting grounds to roam in--which, however, he had the sorrow to see daily encroached upon by the new settlements of the immigrants.

But the inroads made by the frequent settlements in his accustomed hunting range, were not the only annoyances which disturbed the simple habits and patriarchal views of Boone. Civilization brought along with it all the forms of law, and the complicated organization of society and civil government, the progress of which had kept pace with the increasing population.

As early as 1783, the territory of Kentucky had been laid off into three counties, and was that year, by law, formed into one District, denominated the District of Kentucky. Regular courts of justice were organized--log court-houses and log jails were erected--judges, lawyers, sheriffs, and juries were engaged in the administration of justice--money began to circulate--cattle and flocks multiplied--reading and writing schools were commenced--more wealthy immigrants began to flock to the country, bringing with them cabinet furniture, and many of the luxuries of more civilized life--and merchandize began to be wagoned from Philadelphia across the mountains to fort Pitt, now Pittsburgh, from whence it was conveyed in flat boats to Maysville and Louisville.

In 1785 a convention was convoked at Danville, who adopted a memorial, addressed to the Legislature of Virginia, and another to the people of Kentucky--suggesting the propriety, and reasons for erecting the new country into an independent state. In the discussion of this question parties arose, and that warmth and excitement were elicited, which are inseparable from the free and unrestrained discussion of public measures.

In 1786 the legislature of Virginia enacted the preliminary provisions for the separation of Kentucky, as an independent state, provided that Congress should admit it into the Union. About this time another source of party discord was opened in agitating debates touching the claims of Kentucky and the West to the navigation of the Mississippi. The inhabitants were informed by malcontents in Western Pennsylvania, that the American Secretary of State was making propositions to the Spanish minister, to cede to Spain the exclusive right of navigation of the Mississippi for twenty-five years. This information as might be supposed, created a great sensation. It had been felt from the beginning of the western settlements, that the right to the free navigation of the Mississippi was of vital importance to the whole western country, and the least relinquishment of this right--even for the smallest s.p.a.ce of time, would be of dangerous precedent and tendency. Circulars were addressed by the princ.i.p.al settlers to men of influence in the nation.

But before any decisive measures could be taken, Virginia interfered, by instructing her representatives in Congress to make strong representations against the ruinous policy of the measure.

In 1787 commenced the first operations of that mighty engine, the press, in the western country. Nothing could have been wider from the antic.i.p.ations, perhaps from the wishes of Boone, than this progress of things. But in the order of events, the transition of unlettered backwoods emigrants to a people with a police, and all the engines of civilization was uncommonly rapid. There was no other paper within five hundred miles of the one now established by Mr. Bradford, at Lexington.

The political heart-burnings and slander that had hitherto been transmitted through oral channels, were now concentrated for circulation in this gazette.

In April, 1792, Kentucky was admitted into the Union as an independent state; improvements were steadily and rapidly progressing, and notwithstanding the hostility of the Indians, the population of the state was regularly increasing until the peace which followed the victory of Gen. Wayne. After which, as has been observed, the tide of emigration poured into the country with unexampled rapidity.

Litigation in regard to land t.i.tles now began to increase, and continued until it was carried to a distressing height. Col. Boone had begun to turn his attention to the cultivation of the choice tracts he had entered; and he looked forward with the consoling thought that he had enough to provide for a large and rising family, by securing to each of his children, as they became of age, a fine plantation. But in the vortex of litigation which ensued, he was not permitted to escape. The speculators who had spread their greedy claims over the lands which had been previously located and paid for by Boone, relying upon his imperfect entries, and some legal flaws in his t.i.tles, brought their ejectments against him, and dragged him into a court of law. He employed counsel, and from term to term, was compelled to dance attendance at court. Here the old hunter listened to the quibbles--the subtleties, and to him, inexplicable jargon of the lawyers. His suits were finally decided against him, and he was cast out of the possession of all, or nearly all the lands which he had looked upon as being indubitably his own. The indignation of the old pioneer can well be imagined, as he saw himself thus stript, by the quibbles and intricacies of the law, of all the rewards of his exposures, labors, sufferings, and dangers in the first settlement of Kentucky. He became more than ever disgusted with the grasping and avaricious spirit--the heartless intercourse and technical forms of what is called civilized society.

But having expended his indignation in a transient paroxysm, he soon settled back to his customary mental complacency and self-possession; and as he had no longer any pledge of consequence remaining to him in the soil of Kentucky--and as it was, moreover, becoming on all sides subject to the empire of the cultivator's axe and plough, he resolved to leave the country. He had witnessed with regret the dispersion of the band of pioneers, with whom he had hunted and fought, side by side, and like a band of brothers, shared every hardship and every danger; and he sighed for new fields of adventure, and the excitement of a hunter's life.

Influenced by these feelings, he removed from Kentucky to the great Kanawha; where he settled near Point Pleasant. He had been informed that buffaloes and deer were still to be found in abundance on the unsettled bottoms of this river, and that it was a fine country for trapping. Here he continued to reside several years. But he was disappointed in his expectations of finding game. The vicinity of the settlements above and below this unsettled region, had driven the buffaloes from the country; and though there were plenty of deer, yet he derived but little success from his trapping. He finally commenced raising stock, and began to turn his attention to agriculture.

While thus engaged, he met with some persons who had returned from a tour up the Missouri, who described to him the fine country bordering upon that river. The vast prairies--the herds of buffaloes--the grizzly bears--the beavers and otters; and above all, the ancient and unexplored forests of that unknown region, fired his imagination, and produced at once a resolve to remove there.

Accordingly, gathering up such useful articles of baggage as were of light carriage, among which his trusty rifle was not forgotten, he started with his family, driving his whole stock of cattle along with him, on a pilgrimage to this new land of promise. He pa.s.sed through Cincinnati on his way thither in 1798. Being enquired of as to what had induced him to leave all the comforts of home, and so rich and flourishing a country as his dear Kentucky, which he had discovered, and might almost call his own, for the wilds of Missouri? "Too much crowded," replied he--"too crowded--I want more elbow room." He proceeded about forty-five miles above St. Louis, and settled in what is now St. Charles county. This country being still in the possession of the French and Spanish, the ancient laws by which these territories were governed were still in force there. Nothing could be more simple than their whole system of administration. They had no const.i.tution, no king, no legislative a.s.semblies, no judges, juries, lawyers, or sheriffs. An officer, called the Commandant, and the priests, exercised all the functions of civil magistrates, and decided the few controversies which arose among these primitive in habitants, who held and occupied many things in common. They suffered their ponies, their cattle, their swine, and their flocks, to ramble and graze on the same common prairies and pastures--having but few fences or inclosures, and possessing but little of that spirit of speculation, enterprise, and money-making, which has always characterized the Americans.

These simple laws and neighborly customs suited the peculiar habits and temper of Boone. And as his character for honesty, courage, and fidelity followed him there, he was appointed Commandant for the district of St.

Charles by the Spanish Commandant. He retained this command, and continued to exercise the duties of his office with credit to himself, and to the satisfaction of all concerned, until the government of the United States went into effect.

CHAPTER XV.

Anecdotes of Colonel Boone, related by Mr. Audubon--A remarkable instance of memory.

As an evidence of the development of backwoods skill, and a vivid picture of Daniel Boone, we give the following from Mr. Audubon:

"Daniel Boone, or as he was usually called in the Western country, Colonel Boone, happened to spend a night under the same roof with me, more than twenty years ago. We had returned from a shooting excursion, in the course of which his extraordinary skill in the management of a rifle had been fully displayed. On retiring to the room appropriated to that remarkable individual and myself for the night, I felt anxious to know more of his exploits and adventures than I did, and accordingly took the liberty of proposing numerous questions to him. The stature and general appearance of this wanderer of the western forests, approached the gigantic. His chest was broad and prominent; his muscular powers displayed themselves in every limb; his countenance gave indication of his great courage, enterprise, and perseverance; and when he spoke, the very motion of his lips brought the impression, that whatever he uttered could not be otherwise than strictly true. I undressed, whilst he merely took off his hunting shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the floor; choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, than on the softest bed. When we had both disposed of ourselves, each after his own fashion, he related to me the following account of his powers of memory, which I lay before you, kind reader, in his own words, hoping that the simplicity of his style may prove interesting to you.

"I was once," said he, "on a hunting expedition on the banks of the Green river, when the lower parts of this (Kentucky,) were still in the hands of nature, and none but the sons of the soil were looked upon as its lawful proprietors. We Virginians had for some time been waging a war of intrusion upon them, and I, amongst the rest, rambled through the woods, in pursuit of their race, as I now would follow the tracks of any ravenous animal. The Indians outwitted me one dark night, and I was as unexpectedly as suddenly made a prisoner by them. The trick had been managed with great skill; for no sooner had I extinguished the fire of my camp, and laid me down to rest, in full security, as I thought, than I felt myself seized by an indistinguishable number of hands, and was immediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the scaffold for execution. To have attempted to be refractory, would have proved useless and dangerous to my life; and I suffered myself to be removed from my camp to theirs, a few miles distant, without uttering even a word of complaint. You are aware, I dare say, that to act in this manner, was the best policy, as you understand that by so doing, I proved to the Indians at once, that I was born and bred as fearless of death as any of themselves.

"When we reached the camp, great rejoicings were exhibited. Two squaws, and a few papooses, appeared particularly delighted at the sight of me, and I was a.s.sured, by very unequivocal gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the mortal enemy of the Red-skins would cease to live. I never opened my lips, but was busy contriving some scheme which might enable me to give the rascals the slip before dawn. The women immediately fell a searching about my hunting shirt for whatever they might think valuable, and fortunately for me, soon found my flask, filled with _Monongahela_, (that is, reader, strong whisky.) A terrific grin was exhibited on their murderous countenances, while my heart throbbed with joy at the antic.i.p.ation of their intoxication. The crew immediately began to beat their bellies and sing, as they pa.s.sed the bottle from mouth to mouth. How often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and filled with aquafortis! I observed that the squaws drank more freely than the warriors, and again my spirits were about to be depressed, when the report of a gun was heard at a distance. The Indians all jumped on their feet. The singing and drinking were both brought to a stand; and I saw with inexpressible joy, the men walk off to some distance, and talk to the squaws. I knew that they were consulting about me, and I foresaw, that in a few moments the warriors would go to discover the cause of the gun having been fired so near their camp. I expected the squaws would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was just so. They returned; the men took up their guns and walked away. The squaws sat down again, and in less than five minutes they had my bottle up to their dirty mouths, gurgling down their throats the remains of the whisky.

"With what pleasure did I see them becoming more and more drunk, until the liquor took such hold of them that it was quite impossible for these women to be of any service. They tumbled down, rolled about, and began to snore; when I, having no other chance of freeing myself from the cords that fastened me, rolled over and over towards the fire, and after a short time burned them asunder. I rose on my feet; stretched my stiffened sinews; s.n.a.t.c.hed up my rifle, and, for once in my life, spared that of Indians. I now recollect how desirous I once or twice felt to lay open the skulls of the wretches with my tomahawk; but when I again thought upon killing beings unprepared and unable to defend themselves, it looked like murder without need, and I gave up the idea.

"But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, and walking to a thrifty ash sapling, I cut out of it three large chips, and ran off. I soon reached the river; soon crossed it, and threw myself deep into the cane-brakes, imitating the tracks of an Indian with my feet, so that no chance might be left for those from whom I had escaped to overtake me.

"It is now nearly twenty years since this happened, and more than five since I left the whites' settlements, which I might probably never have visited again, had I not been called on as a witness in a law-suit that was pending in Kentucky, and which, I really believe, would never have been settled, had I not come forward, and established the beginning of a certain boundary line. This is the story, sir.

"Mr. ---- moved from old Virginia into Kentucky, and having a large tract granted to him in the new state, laid claim to a certain parcel of land adjoining Green river, and as chance would have it, he took for one of his corners the very ash tree on which I had made my mark, and finished his survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as it is expressed in the deed, "at an ash marked by three distinct notches of the tomahawk of a white man."

"The tree had grown much, and the bark had covered the marks; but, some how or other, Mr. ---- heard from some one all that I have already said to you, and thinking that I might remember the spot alluded to in the deed, but which was no longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and try at least to find the place on the tree. His letter mentioned, that all my expenses should be paid; and not caring much about once more going back to Kentucky, I started and met Mr.----. After some conversation, the affair with the Indians came to my recollection. I considered for a while, and began to think that after all, I could find the very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet standing.

"Mr. ---- and I mounted our horses, and off we went to the Green river bottoms. After some difficulties, for you must be aware, sir, that great changes had taken place in these woods, I found at last the spot where I had crossed the river, and waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course in which I thought the ash tree grew. On approaching the place, I felt as if the Indians were there still, and as if I was still a prisoner among them, Mr. ---- and I camped near what I conceived the spot, and waited till the, return of day.

"At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and after a good deal of musing, thought that an ash tree then in sight must be the very one on which I had made my mark. I felt as if there could be no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to Mr. ----. "Well, Colonel Boone," said he, "if you think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must have some witnesses; do you stay hereabout, and I will go and bring some of the settlers whom I know." I agreed. Mr. ---- trotted off, and I, to pa.s.s the time, rambled about to see if a deer was still living in the land. But ah! sir, what a wonderful difference thirty years makes in the country! Why, at the time when I was caught by the Indians, you would not have walked out in any direction for more than a mile without shooting a buck or a bear. There were then thousands of buffaloes on the hills in Kentucky; the land looked as if it would never become poor; and to hunt in those days was a pleasure indeed. But when I was left to myself on the banks of Green river, I dare say for the last time in my life, a few _signs_ only of deer were to be seen, and as to a deer itself, I saw none.

"Mr. ---- returned, accompanied by three gentlemen. They looked upon me as if I had been Washington himself, and walked to the ash tree which I now called my own, as if in quest of a long lost treasure. I took an axe from one of them and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no signs were to be seen. So I cut again, until I thought it time to be cautious, and I sc.r.a.ped and worked away with my butcher knife, until I _did_ come to where my tomahawk had left an impression in the wood. We now went regularly to work, and sc.r.a.ped at the tree with care, until three hacks, as plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr. ---- and the other gentlemen were astonished, and, I must allow, I was as much surprised as pleased, myself. I made affidavit of this remarkable occurrence in the presence of these gentlemen. Mr. ---- gained his cause.

I left Green river, forever, and came to where we now are; and, sir, I wish you a good night."