The First White Man of the West | Page 9

and the visible impress of
decision and fearlessness of the hunter--when she interpreted a look,
which said as distinctly as looks could say it, "how terrible it would
have been to have fired!" can hardly be supposed to have regarded him
with indifference. Nor can it be wondered at that she saw in him her
beau ideal of excellence and beauty. The inhabitants of cities, who live
in mansions, and read novels stored with unreal pictures of life and the
heart, are apt to imagine that love, with all its golden illusions, is
reserved exclusively for them. It is a most egregious mistake. A model
of ideal beauty and perfection is woven in almost every youthful heart,
of the brightest and most brilliant threads that compose the web of
existence. It may not be said that this forest maiden was deeply and

foolishly smitten at first sight. All reasonable time and space were
granted to the claims of maidenly modesty. As for Boone, he was
incurably wounded by her, whose eyes he had shined, and as he was
remarkable for the backwoods attribute of never being beaten out of his
track, he ceased not to woo, until he gained the heart of Rebecca Bryan.
In a word, he courted her successfully, and they were married.

CHAPTER II.
Boone removes to the head waters of the Yadkin river--He meets with
Finley, who had crossed the mountains into Tennessee--They agree to
explore the wilderness west of the Alleghanies together.
After his marriage, Boone's first step was to consider where he should
find a place, in which he could unite the advantages of fields to
cultivate, and range for hunting. True to the impulse of his nature, he
plunged deeper into the wilderness, to realize this dream of comfort and
happiness. Leaving his wife, he visited the unsettled regions of North
Carolina, and selected a spot near the head waters of the Yadkin, for his
future home.
The same spirit that afterwards operated to take Mrs. Boone to
Kentucky, now led her to leave her friends, and follow her husband to a
region where she was an entire stranger. Men change their place of
abode from ambition or interest; women from affection. In the course
of a few months, Daniel Boone had reared comfortable cabins upon a
pleasant eminence at a little distance from the river bank, inclosed a
field, and gathered around him the means of abundance and enjoyment.
His dwelling, though of rude exterior, offered the weary traveller
shelter, a cheerful fire, and a plentiful board, graced with the most
cordial welcome. The faces that looked on him were free from the
cloud of care, the constraint of ceremony, and the distrust and fear, with
which men learn to regard one another in the midst of the rivalry,
competition, and scramble of populous cities. The spoils of the chase
gave variety to his table, and afforded Boone an excuse for devoting his
leisure hours to his favorite pursuit. The country around spread an

ample field for its exercise, as it was almost untouched by the axe of
the woodsman.
The lapse of a few years--passed in the useful and unpretending
occupations of the husbandman--brought no external change to Daniel
Boone, deserving of record. His step was now the firm tread of sober
manhood; and his purpose the result of matured reflection. This
influence of the progress of time, instead of obliterating the original
impress of his character, only sunk it deeper. The dwellings of
immigrants were springing up in all directions around. Inclosures again
began to surround him on every hand, shutting him out from his
accustomed haunts in the depths of the forest shade. He saw cultivated
fields stretching over large extents of country; and in the distance,
villages and towns; and was made sensible of their train of forms, and
laws, and restrictions, and buts, and bounds, gradually approaching his
habitation. Be determined again to leave them far behind. His resolve
was made, but he had not decided to what point he would turn.
Circumstances soon occurred to terminate his indecision.
As early as 1760, the country west of the Cumberland mountains was
considered by the inhabitants of Carolina and Virginia, as involved in
something of the same obscurity which lay over the American
continent, after its first discovery by Columbus. Those who spread their
sails to cross the sea, and find new skies, a new soil, and men in a new
world, were not deemed more daring by their brethren at home, than
the few hardy adventurers, who struck into the pathless forests
stretching along the frontier settlements of the western country, were
estimated by their friends and neighbors. Even the most informed and
intelligent, where information and intelligence were cultivated, knew so
little of the immense extent of