Hardy now entered upon an entirely new experience. Winter hunting he

found quite different from what had gone before. They did not wander

about, as in the fall, but stayed in one place for weeks at a time.

Trapping was their chief occupation, and their object to secure the

furs of beaver, otter, mink, and other desirable animals. The rifle was

only used for the purpose of providing food.

They had plenty of tramping to do, for making the rounds of the traps

involved a journey of several miles; but at night they always came

back to the spot where their shelter stood and where their stores were

kept. This was called a “closed” camp, or a “half-faced cabin.” It was

made in the following manner: A log was placed for the back and two or

three logs along each side. These were chinked with moss to keep out

the cold wind. Boughs or poles were laid over the top and skins or bark

covered these, sloping down to the back-log. The shelter was open in

front.

When Indians were not to be feared, a fire was kept burning before

the cabin all night and the hunters lay with their stockinged feet

to it, their wet moccasins being hung to dry. The bed was made of

boughs covered with a blanket, or a skin with the hair on it. Except

in the very severest weather, this kind of shelter afforded sufficient

protection to the hardy hunters. During the winter of 1773-1774,

Boone and Hardy Goodfellow occupied such a camp during two trapping

expeditions which resulted in good takes.

With the approach of spring, conditions on the border became such that

Boone was obliged to abandon hunting and take up another phase of the

backwoodsman’s life, that of Indian fighter.

With the increase of population in the colonies and the corresponding

increased demand for lands, the border had been steadily pushed forward

towards the Indian country. The savages had gradually become alarmed

at the threatened invasion of their hunting-grounds and at the time

of our story were preparing to contest the advance in force. They had

shown many evidences of ill temper, but as yet no open declaration of

war had been made. There were frequent conflicts between small parties

or individuals of the two races and, in fact, whenever a redman met a

white the rifle generally came into immediate play. Now, however, there

were indications that the tribes upon the western border were preparing

to go on the war-path unitedly.

Although the backwoodsmen were a fine class as a whole, there were

among them some ruffians. In the spring of 1774, a band of such

men committed a dastardly deed that acted as a firebrand upon the

inflammable minds of the Cherokees and Shawnees. This was no less than

the cold-blooded and unprovoked murder of the family of Chief Logan.

Logan was an Indian of exceptionally fine character and peaceable

disposition, and the whites, no less than his own people, deplored the

outrage. The Indians were aroused to a pitch of fury. The tomahawk was

dug up; the war-pipe was carried through the villages; runners were

sent to recall hunting parties; and all the usual preparations for a

war to the knife were put in train.

The danger was, of course, greatest on the frontier, and every man and

boy who could bear arms was mustered into the militia. Boone received a

commission as captain and was given command of three stockaded forts,

in one of which Hardy Goodfellow served as rifleman. A few hundred

soldiers were distributed among the frontier posts but they were not

the valuable accession that might be supposed. The regulars always

proved to be much inferior to the Indians in forest fights. The former

were brave enough but utterly ignorant of the tactics of backwoods

warfare. In conflicts with the savages, one frontiersman was worth a

score of redcoats.

But before actual hostilities had broken out, it was found that a

company of land prospectors and surveyors were in Kentucky, with great

danger of being cut off and massacred. Lord Dunmore, the Governor of

Virginia, sent a messenger to the Clinch Valley with the request that

Boone and another should go out and endeavor to bring the party back.

Boone immediately accepted the dangerous and difficult task and taking

with him Michael Stoner, a backwoodsman of experience, started upon

the long journey without delay. “If they are alive,” wrote Russell to

Colonel Preston, the commandant in the Valley, “it is indisputable

but Boone must find them.” So, indeed, he did and accomplished his

errand successfully, having travelled upwards of eight hundred miles in

sixty-five days, including a halt of more than a week.

A detailed description of Dunmore’s War, as it is called, is not

necessary to our story. Suffice it to say that after a fierce

battle, in which fifteen hundred braves were opposed by a force of

frontiersmen, under General Lewis, the Indians were glad to sue for

peace and entered into a treaty waiving all claim to the country now

known as Kentucky.

Boone and Hardy, who had their share of the fighting, came through the

campaign without serious mishap. Before the close of the year they were

cheered by the opening of a prospect of pursuing the desire which both

possessed to go on to the fair land of Kentucky.

IV.

THE DARING PIONEER

Colonel Henderson plans a semi-independent republic--He employs

Boone to spy out the land--Boone makes a hazardous journey into

Kentucky alone--He locates the site of Boonesborough and after

six weeks’ absence returns--Boone gathers the Indian chiefs at

Sycamore Shoals--The Indians sell Kentucky to Henderson and his

associates--Boone with a small band starts out to blaze the way

into the interior--They are attacked by Indians and see buffalo for

the first time--They commence the erection of a fort--Hundreds of

speculators flock to the new territory.

The important part played by Daniel Boone in the settlement of Kentucky

was due to the extraordinary combination of qualities possessed by this

ideal backwoodsman, a combination which was not found in any other of

the pioneers who were associated with him. George Rogers Clark was

his superior in intellect, but Clark lacked Boone’s calm, even temper

and infinite patience. Kenton was as fearless, but he had not Boone’s

prudence and foresight. Harrod, Logan, Todd, and others were able

captains, but each was wanting in some of the qualities that combined

to fit Boone so perfectly for the rôle he filled in frontier history.

The men of the border, with their independent dispositions, were

extremely difficult to control. Even when imminent danger demanded

concerted action, they were amenable only to the lightest discipline.

If they followed a leader, it was not from any consideration of their

obligations as militiamen, but because they had confidence in him and

personal regard for him. These sentiments Boone excited in almost every

one with whom he came in contact, and his influence over the rough,

untrammelled backwoods fighters was probably greater than that exerted

by any other leader. In the time of dire danger and stress that came

upon the Kentucky settlers, when hundreds fled at the approach of the

storm, had not Boone stood his ground, the new country must have been

deserted.

The affection and respect which the settlers evinced for Boone were

enhanced by the fact that he was in all respects one of themselves.

Born on the border, of backwoods parentage, he was wedded to the hard

life led by the frontier people, and like most of them he was poor

and unlettered. There is much in his simple, honest character, with

its homely common sense and cheery humor, to remind us of Abraham

Lincoln, and it is not difficult to believe that Lincoln, under similar

circumstances, would have been just such a backwoodsman as Boone.

The high qualities which made Daniel Boone a natural leader among

his fellows were not lost upon men of superior station with whom he

happened to have relations. Colonel Richard Henderson, of Granville

County, North Carolina, had the highest opinion of the pioneer’s

character and ability. Henderson was a judge whose circuit included

the backwoods town of Hillsboro, and here he had frequently met Boone

at the time that the latter lived upon the Yadkin. In fact, there is a

tradition that Boone once saved Henderson from ill-treatment, if not

death, at the hands of a band of Regulators.

Boone’s descriptions of Kentucky had keenly interested the Judge and

ultimately awoke in his mind the idea of establishing in that wonderful

region a semi-independent republic, to be called Transylvania. Of

course, such a movement would meet with the disapprobation of the

British authorities, but active opposition was hardly to be feared in

such a remote part of the country. Three brothers named Hart who, like

Colonel Henderson, were men of means, associated themselves with him in

this romantic project. The defeat of the Indians in Dunmore’s War and

the subsequent treaty of peace seemed to open a promising prospect of

prosecuting the enterprise with success.

Towards the close of the year, Colonel Henderson put himself in

communication with Boone, in whose judgment and discretion he had,

as we have said, implicit confidence. The plan was outlined to the

backwoodsman and his services as prospector were readily secured.

Though Boone was not, perhaps, so sanguine as the promoters in

the ultimate success of the undertaking, he fully appreciated its

advantages as a preliminary step. He knew that in the past, the

dwellers upon the frontier had been left to fight their own battles and

manage their own affairs, with no considerable aid from the colonial

authorities, and he did not believe that they would fare much better

in the contemplated case with a corporation at their backs; but he

realized that the efforts of Henderson and his associates might have

a powerful effect in starting the settlement and he entered into the

scheme with hearty good-will.

Leaving Hardy, who was duly proud of the responsibility, to look after

the family on the Clinch, Boone started in January, 1775, upon a

solitary expedition into Kentucky. His ostensible purpose was hunting,

but in reality he was engaged in spying out the land for his employers.

He struck the Kentucky River near the Virginia border and followed it

to the site of Harrodsburg, which had been surveyed the year before.

Thence he took a diagonal course across the great valley to the

Cumberland Gap, and so home.

It was a hazardous journey, but just such an adventure as Boone

delighted in. He found a genuine pleasure in the solitude of the

wilderness, and felt safer when alone than with a companion whose

imprudence might lead him into trouble. Kentucky was the common

hunting-ground of several tribes and did not contain any permanent

Indian villages. There were, therefore, few savages about in the

winter. Perils of other kinds were, however, plentiful. Panthers,

wolves, and bears sometimes attacked lone men. There was the

possibility of becoming lost or, worse still, of suffering a crippling

accident. Imagine the plight of a man with a broken leg, lying in

the snowy wastes hundreds of miles from a human being. Such a fate

befell more than one scout and pioneer, but Boone accomplished his task

without mishap and returned after an absence of about six weeks to the

cabin on the Clinch.

When Boone reported the result of his observations to Colonel Henderson

and his associates, who now called themselves the Transylvania Company,

it was determined to entrust him with a task calling for qualities

of a different nature from those exercised in his exploration. It

was proposed by the Company to purchase from the Cherokees the land

which they decided on Boone’s recommendation to settle, and to him was

entrusted the matter of opening negotiations.

It should be understood that the Cherokees had no better title to the

territory in question than had the Choctaws, Shawnees, or Iroquois.

In fact, the last named had some few years previous transferred to

the British Crown all the lands lying between the Ohio and Tennessee

Rivers. However, the Company felt that its position would be

strengthened by securing some title, however shadowy, from an Indian

tribe, and the Cherokees were selected because they commanded the path

that would be followed by the settlers from the South in going to the

new country.

As usual, Boone accomplished his errand and in March brought twelve

hundred Cherokees to the Sycamore Shoals, on the Watauga River, where

the promoters met them and after considerable bickering struck a

bargain. It was agreed that in consideration of the payment of fifty

thousand dollars, the tribe should cede to Henderson and his partners

in the Transylvania Company all the land lying between the Kentucky

and Cumberland Rivers, and should allow them a free road to the region

through Powell’s Valley and the Cumberland Gap.

According to the general practice of the time, the purchase price was

paid in merchandise, consisting of cloth, clothing, guns, ammunition,

cooking utensils, hatchets, and ornaments. The goods filled a large

cabin but when it came to distributing them, each warrior’s share

proved to be small. One brave, to whom was allotted a deerskin

hunting-shirt, expressed his disgust in no uncertain terms. What a fool

he had been, he said, to sell for such an article his hunting-grounds,

where in a single day he could kill deer enough to make half a dozen

such garments.

Thus, at the outset, the arrangement met with the dissatisfaction of

the Indians. Indeed, before the meeting broke up one of the chiefs

warned Boone that he must not expect to effect the settlement of the

region without trouble. He pointed out, truthfully enough, that the

Indian chiefs could no more control their young men than the frontier

leaders could the hot-heads among themselves. The Cherokees as a

nation might, he said, be at peace with the Virginians--they called

all frontiersmen “Virginians”--and a few individuals on either side

wantonly commit some act that would bring on war. The chiefs could not,

he declared, guarantee the safety of emigrants upon the promised path,

much less of settlers in Kentucky itself.

This was not very promising, but it did not daunt the promoters, for

they had expected nothing better. All they had looked for from the

agreement was something that would give them a moral right to fight

for the possession of the land and entitle them to the countenance of

the Crown authorities. In this hope they were, however, immediately

disappointed; for the Governors of North Carolina and Virginia

denounced the transaction as soon as knowledge of it reached them.

By this time the colonists, and especially those on the borders, had

begun to treat the representatives of King George with scant respect,

and the Transylvania Company was in no measure deterred from the

prosecution of its enterprise by the proclamations issued against it

by Governors Martin and Dunmore. Boone counselled immediate action,

reasoning that the Indians might be expected to observe the treaty for

a few months and that by driving the entering wedge home before they

should awake to active opposition, much would be gained. In this view

the promoters concurred and again they relied upon their trusty agent

to carry out their designs.

In his expedition of the preceding January, Boone had marked a spot

for the first settlement of the Transylvania Company, and now it

was arranged that he should go out at the head of a body of thirty

picked backwoodsmen to mark a path through the wilderness to the place

selected. The party started immediately after the conclusion of the

meeting on the Watauga and arrived at their destination on the sixth

day of April. They encountered many difficulties on the way and were

more than once attacked by Indians, several of their number being

killed and wounded.

The point at which it was decided to locate the capital town of

Transylvania, as the colony was to be called, was Big Lick, just

below Otter Creek on the Kentucky River. The site was a plain on

the south side of the river, and as the pioneers approached it they

were confronted with a sight which to most of them was entirely

novel. Hundreds of buffalo occupied the destined ground, where they

were engaged in licking the earth for the salt with which it was

impregnated. As the men advanced, the huge beasts scattered in every

direction, some running, some walking, others loping carelessly along

with young calves skipping and bounding at their sides. Such a sight

was common enough in Kentucky at that time, but soon after the advent

of white men the great herds of bison moved westward.

The pioneers immediately commenced the erection of a fort and raised a

few cabins along the river bank, but it was long before the stockade

of Boonesborough, as the settlement was named, was completed. In the

absence of women, it was hard to induce the backwoodsmen to devote

themselves to measures of defence while such tempting opportunities for

hunting presented themselves. They were a self-confident and somewhat

reckless lot. Their first thought was to mark off a claim by a rude

method of surveying which entailed endless after trouble. Their second,

to pursue the game which abounded in a plenteousness far surpassing

anything in their past experience.

Before the close of April, Colonel Henderson arrived with a reinforcement

of thirty men and a quantity of tools and ammunition. In the succeeding

months arrivals were numerous from various quarters and by different

routes. During the course of the year upwards of five hundred men from

the frontiers of Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina went into

Kentucky, but the majority of them were not settlers. Some were merely

hunters but the greater number land speculators or “cabiners,” as they

were termed, who ran up a shanty on a piece of land as evidence of

occupation and returned to the colonies in the hope of selling the

tract.

At the close of the summer Boone brought in his family from the Clinch

Valley and his wife and daughters were, as he proudly declared, “the

first white women to stand on the banks of the Kentucky.” Shortly

afterwards, several other families came in, and there were before

the end of September four or five settlements, the principal being

Boonesborough and Harrodsburg, about fifty miles to the west of the

former place. Two or three hundred acres of corn had been planted,

fruit trees had been set, and horses, cattle and hogs had been

introduced.

The settlers were for the most part of Scotch-Irish extraction, sturdy,

patriotic men, attaching themselves to the soil with a tenacity that

nothing could shake. In the struggle to maintain their homes in the new

territory they greatly aided their countrymen in the Revolution, which

was just about to break out. Indeed, they guarded the western flank

of the colonies and even carried the war into the Crown dominions on

the north. Among those who came into Kentucky in this first year of

its settlement were a number whose names figure prominently in border

story and in the history of our western march--George Rogers Clark,

Simon Kenton, the Lewises, Benjamin Logan, James Harrod, John Todd, the

brothers McAfee, Bowman, Hite, Randolph, McClellan.

During the latter months of 1775 the Indians gave little trouble and

many settlers began to congratulate themselves upon the prospect of

occupying the land without serious opposition, but in the closing

days of the year several attacks were made on the whites at different

points. These were the signal for the hurried departure of the timid,

and of speculators, surveyors, and others who had no permanent

interests in the country, making it apparent that in time of stress the

tenure of the land would depend upon a few bold spirits.

In order to dispose of the Transylvania Company once for all, we shall

anticipate the course of time somewhat. The settlers found many causes

of dissatisfaction with the Company’s methods of managing affairs, and

the declaration of independence by the colonies in July, 1776, made it

evident that a proprietary government could not long exist. Under the

circumstances, the settlers of Kentucky wished for definite inclusion

in the new republic and with that view they sent a delegation to the

Virginia Assembly praying that body to give them recognition as part of

the State. In accordance with this petition, Kentucky was organized as

a county of Virginia, with David Robinson as county lieutenant, John

Bowman colonel, Anthony Bledsoe and George Rogers Clark majors, and

Daniel Boone, James Harrod, Benjamin Logan and John Todd captains.

Ultimately the Transylvania Company was compensated for the forfeiture

of its possessions by a large grant of land.

But before all this happened, Kentucky had entered upon the stormy days

that earned for it the grim title of “the dark and bloody ground.”

V.

IN FAIR KENTUCKY

The settlers find themselves in a rich and beautiful land--But soon

learn that they must fight for the possession of it--A night alarm

on the border--How a woman and two children defended their home--The

stockade at Boonesborough--Two girls carried off by the savages--Hardy

raises an alarm and a party is soon in hot pursuit--Boone circumvents

the wily redskins--They are overtaken and caught unprepared--A volley,

a charge, and the girls are safe--Back to Boonesborough and a happy

reunion.

The country in which Boone and his companions found themselves differed

greatly from the gloomy, forest-covered region that they had left. Here

were extensive forests, it is true, but they were not so dense as those

along the Alleghanies, and furthermore they were interspersed with

stretches of fertile plain and valleys of succulent grass. Hill and

vale, river-bottom and prairie, timber-land and cane-brake, succeeded

one another in pleasing variety and offered the widest opportunities

for agricultural pursuits. Game was so plentiful that the settler

might almost shoot it from his door-sill, but this very abundance

induced to reckless and unnecessary killing, with the result that in a

few years there was an actual scarcity and more than once the little

community was hard pressed to secure a sufficient supply of food. The

wanton killing of game continued until recent years.

Settlers were allowed to acquire lands on very easy terms. An

advertisement inserted by Henderson in the newspapers of Virginia

stated that: “Any person who will settle on and inhabit the same before

the first day of June, 1776, shall have the privilege of taking up and

surveying for himself five hundred acres, and for each tithable person

he may carry with him and settle there, two hundred and fifty acres,

on the payment of fifty shillings sterling per hundred, subject to a

yearly quit-rent of two shillings, like money, to commence in the year

1780.” The deeds required the holders of the lands to pay this nominal

rent “yearly and every year for ever,” so that had the Company’s title

been confirmed, a large portion of Kentucky might have been subject to

proprietary control at this day.

Having selected his land, the settler proceeded to clear it of timber

and brush and to erect upon it a cabin. In this work he was aided by

his neighbors, and himself stood ready to help the next comer. The

farms were widely separated from one another and were in many cases

situated several miles from the town or fort. Families lived upon them

in times of quiet and almost invariably in the winter, when it was the

habit of the Indians to retire to their villages. During troublous

periods, one half of the men were engaged in scouting and guarding the

settlement, whilst the other half tilled the ground. Often runners

would make the rounds of the outlying farms warning the occupants of

impending attack. There might not be a moment to spare, in which case

all the worldly possessions of the family would be abandoned and they

would make a hasty retreat to the stockaded village.

Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman · 第 2 / 14 段