He had first been led to the country by that spirit
of the hunter, which in him amounted almost to a passion. 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 noble game?
The free exercise of this darling passion 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 trespass upon the private property of some neighbor.
Pages:
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222