He was compelled, however, to admit, that if such
an order of things brings disadvantages, it has also its benefits.
A thriving farmer, by the name of Bryan, had settled at no great
distance from Mr. Boone, by whose establishment the young hunter, now at
the period of life when other thoughts than those of the chase of wild
game are sometimes apt to cross the mind, was accustomed to pass.
This farmer had chosen a most beautiful spot for his residence. The farm
occupied a space of some hundred acres on a gentle eminence, crested
with yellow poplars and laurels. Around it rolled a mountain stream. So
beautiful was the position and so many its advantages, that young Boone
used often to pause in admiration, on his way to the deeper woods beyond
the verge of human habitation. Who can say that the same dreamy thoughts
that inspired the pen of the eloquent Rousseau, did not occupy the mind
of the young hunter as he passed this rural abode? We hope we shall not
be suspected of a wish to offer a tale of romance, as we relate, how the
mighty hunter of wild beasts and men was himself subdued, and that by
the most timid and gentle of beings. We put down the facts as we find
them recorded, and our conscience is quieted, by finding them perfectly
natural to the time, place, and circumstances.
Young Boone was one night engaged in a fire hunt, with a young friend.
Their course led them to the deeply timbered bottom that skirted the
stream which wound round this pleasant plantation.
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