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that of contemplation is often alive. Perhaps it is this very succession of "moving accidents” and lonely quiet, of solemn repose and intense activity, that constitutes the fascination which the sea and the wilderness possess for imaginative minds. They appeal at once to poetical and heroic instincts; and these are more frequently combined in the same individual than we usually suppose. Before attempting to realize the characteristics of Boone in their unity, we must note the salient points in his experience; and this is best done by reviving a few scenes which typify the whole drama.

It is midnight in the forest; and, through the interstices of its thickly-woven branches, pale moonbeams glimmer on the emerald sward. The only sounds that break upon the brooding silence are an occasional gust of wind amid the branches of the loftier trees, the hooting of an owl, and sometimes the wild cry of a beast disappointed of his prey, or scared by the dusky figure of a savage on guard at a watch-fire. Beside its glowing embers, and' leaning against the huge trunk of a gigantic henulock, sit two girls, whose complexion and habiliments indicate their AngloSaxon origin; their hands are clasped together, and one appears to sleep as her head rests upon her companion's shoulder. They are very pale, and an expression of anxiety is evident in the very firmness of their resigned looks. A slight rustle in the thick undergrowth, near their camp, causes the Indian sentinel to rise quickly to his feet and peer in the direction of the sound ; a moment after he leaps up, with a piercing shout, and falls bleeding upon the ground, while the crack of a rifle echoes through the wood. In an instant twenty Indians spring from around the fire, raise the war-whoop, and brandish their tomahawks; but three or four instantly drop before the deadly aim of the invaders, several run howling with pain into the depths of the forest, and the remainder set off on an opposite trail. Then calmly, but with an earnest joy, revealed by the dying flames upon his features, a robust, compactly-knit figure moves with a few hasty strides towards the females, gazes eagerly into their faces, lifts one in his arms and presses her momentarily to his breast, gives a hasty order, and his seven companions with the three in their midst rapidly retrace their way over the tangled brushwood and amid the pillared trunks, until they come out, at dawn, upon a clearing, studded with enormous roots, among

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waves the tasselled maize, beside a spacious log-dwelling surrounded by a palisaule. An eager, tearful group rush out to meet them; and the wenry and hungry band are soon discussing their midnight adventure over a substantial breakfast of game. Thus Boone rescued his daughter and her friend, when they were taken captive by the Indians, within sight of his primitive dwelling; — an incident which illustrates, more than pages of description, how closely pioneer presses upon savage life, and with what peril civilization encroaches upon the domain of nature.

It is the dawn of a spring day in the wilderness. As steals the gray pearly light over the densely-waving tree-tops, an eagle majestically rises from a withered bough, and floats through the silent air, becoming a mere speck on the sky ere he disappears over the distant mountains; dew-drops are condensed on the green threads of the pine and the swollen buds of the hickory; pale bulbs and spears of herbage shoot from the black loam, amid the decayed leaves ; in the inmost recesses of the wood the rabbit's tread is audible, and the chirp of the squirrel.

As the sunshine expands, a thousand notes of birds at work on their nests invade the solitude; the bear fearlessly laps the running stream, and the elk turns his graceful head from the pendent branch he is nibbling, at an unusual sound from the adjacent cane-brake. It is a lonely man rising from his night slumber; with his blanket on his arm and his rifle grasped in one hand, he approaches the brook and bathes his head and neck; then, glancing around, turns aside the interwoven thickets near by, and climbs a stony mound shadowed by a fine clump of oaks, where stands an humble but substantial cabin; he lights a fire upon the flat stone before the entrance, kneads a cake of maize, while his venison steak is broiling, and carefully examines the priming of his rifle. The meal despatched with a hearty relish, he closes the door of his lodge, and saunters through the wilderness; his eye roves from the wild flower at his fect, to the cliff that looms afar off; he pauses in admiration before some venerable sylvan monarch ; watches the bounding stag his intrusion has disturbed, or cuts a little spray from the sassafras with the knife in his girdle.

As the sun rises higher, he penetrates deeper into the vast and beautiful forest; each form of vegetable life, from the enormous fungi to the delicate vine-wreath, the varied structure of the trees, the cries and motions of the wild animals and birds, excite in his mind a delightful sense of infinite power and beauty; he feels as he walks, in every nerve and vein, the "glorious privilege of being independent ;” reveries, that bathe his soul in a

, tranquil yet lofty pleasure, succeed each other; and the sight of some lovely vista induces him to lie down upon a heap of dead leaves and lose himself in contemplation. Weariness and hunger, or the deepening gloom of approaching night, at length warn him to retrace his steps; on the way he shoots a wild turkey for his supper, sits over the watch-fire, beneath the solemn firmament of stars, and recalls the absent and loved through the first watches of the night. Months have elapsed since he has thus lived alone in the wilderness, his brother having left him to seek ammunition and provision at distant settlements. Despondency, for a while, rendered his loneliness oppressive, but such is his love of nature and freedom, his zest for life in the woods, and a natural self-reliance, that gradually he attains a degree of happiness which De Foe's hero might have envied. Nature is a benign mother, and whispers consoling secrets to attentive ears, and mysteriously cheers the heart of her pure votaries who truthfully cast themselves on her bosom.

Not thus serenely, however, glides away the forest life of our pioneer. He is jealously watched by the Indians, upon whose hunting-grounds he is encroaching; they steal upon his retreat and make him captive, and in this situation a new phase of his character exhibits itself. The soul that has been in long and intimate communion with natural grandeur and beauty, and learned the scope and quality of its own resources, gains self-possession and foresight. The prophets of old did not resort to the desert in vain; and the bravery and candor of hunters and seamen is partly the result of the isolation and hardihood of their lives. Boone excelled as a sportsman; he won the respect of his savage captors by his skill and fortitude ; and more than once, without violence,

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emancipated himself, revealed their bloody schemes to his countrymen, and met them on the battle-field, with a coolness and 'celerity that awoke their intense astonishment. Again and again he saw his companions fall before their tomahawks and rifles; his daughter, as we have seen, was stolen from his very door, though fortunately rescued ; his son fell before his eyes in a conflict with the Indians who opposed their emigration to Kentucky; his brother and his dearest friends were victims either to their strategy or violence; and his own immunity is to be accounted for by the influence he had acquired over his foes, which induced them often to spare his life - an influence derived from the extraordinary tact, patience, and facility of action, which his experience and character united to foster.

Two other scenes of his career are requisite to the picture. On the banks of the Missouri river, less than forty years ago, there stood a few small rude cabins in the shape of a hollow square.

In one of these the now venerable figure of the gallant hunter is listlessly stretched upon a couch ; a slice of buck, twisted on the ramroil of his rifle, is roasting by the fire, within reach of his hand; he is still alone, but the surrounding cabins are occupiel by his thriving descendants. The vital energies of the pioneer are gradually ebbing away, though his thick white locks, well-knit frame, and the light of his keen eye, evidence the genuineness and prolonged tenure of his life. Overmatched by the conditions of the land law in Kentucky, and annoyed by the march of civilization in the regions he had known in their primitive beauty, he had wandered here, far from the state he founded and the haunts of his manhood, to die, with the same adventurous and independent spirit in which he had lived.

he had lived. He occupied some of the irksome hours of confinement incident to age in polishing his own cherry-wood coffin; and it is said he was found dead in the woods at last, a few rods from his dwelling.

On an autumn day, but a few years since, a hearse mighit have been seen winding up the main street of Frankfort, Kentucky, drawn by white horses, and garlanded with evergreens. The pall-bearers comprised some of the most distinguished men of the state. It was the second funeral of Daniel Boone. By an act of the legislature, his remains were removed from the banks of the Missouri to the public cemetery of the capital of Kentucky, and there deposited with every ceremonial of respect and love.

This oblation was in the highest degree just and appropriate, for the name of Boone is identified with the state he originally explored, and his character associates itself readily with that of her people and scenery. No part of the country is more individual in these respects than Kentucky. As the word imports, it was once the hunting and battle ground of savage tribes for centuries: and not until the middle of the eighteenth century was it well known to Anglo-Saxon explorers. The elk and buffalo held undisputed possession with the Indian ; its dark forests served as a contested boundary between the Cherokees, Creeks, and Catawbas, of the South, and the Shawnees, Delawares, and Wyandots, of the North ; and to these inimical tribes it was indeed "a dark and bloody ground."

Unauthenticated expeditions thither we hear of before that of Boone, but with his first visit the history of the region becomes clear and progressive, remarkable for its rapid and steady progress and singular fortunes. The same year that independence was declared, Virginia made a county of the embryo state, and forts scattered at intervals over the face of the country alone yielded refuge to the colonists from their barbarian invaders. In 1778, Duquesne, with his Canadian and Indian army, met with a vigorous repulse at Boonesborough ; in 1778, occurred Roger Clark's brilliant expedition against the English forts of Vincennes and Kaskaskias; and the next year, a single blockhouse — the forlorn hope of advancing civilization — was erected by Robert Patterson where Lexington now stands; soon after took place the unfortunate expedition of Col. Bowman against the Indians of Chillicothe; and the Virginian legislature passed the celebrated land law. This enactment neglected to provide for a general survey at the expense of the government; each holder of a warrant located therefore at pleasure, and made his own survey ; yet a special entry was required by the law, in order clearly to designate boundaries; the vagueness of many entries rendered the titles null; those of Boone, and men similarly unacquainted with legal writing, were, of course, destitute of any accuracy of description; and hence, interminable perplexity, disputes, and

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