and the Mississippi. This attempt to extend the jurisdiction of Canada to the Ohio was especially offensive to Virginia. Richard Henry Lee, in congress, denounced it as the worst of all the acts complained of. In Virginia, Dunmore's avarice getting the better of his loyalty, he espoused her claims to western lands, and became a partner in enormous purchases in Southern Illinois. In 1773 Thomas and Cuthbert Bullet, his agents, made surveys of lands at the falls of the Ohio; and a part of Louisville and of towns opposite to Cincinnati are yet held under his warrant.

Murray, a grandson of the Earl of Dunmore, and page to Queen Victoria, visited the United States partly, it was said, for the purpose of making enquiry relative to western lands, the title of which was derived from his grandfather. Young Murray visited some of the old seats on the James, and makes mention of them in his entertaining "Travels in the United States."

The assembly, upon the return of Dunmore to Williamsburg, gave him a vote of thanks for his good conduct of the war-a compliment which it was afterwards doubted whether he had merited. His motives in that campaign were, to say the least, somewhat mysterious. There is a curious coincidence in several points between the administration of Dunmore and that of Berkley, one hundred years before.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.

DANIEL BOONE.

THIS famous explorer, a native of Pennsylvania, removed at an early age to North Carolina, and remained there till his fortieth year. In the year 1769 he left his home on the sequestered Yadkin, to wander through the wilderness in quest of the country of Kentucky, and to become the archetype of the race of pioneers. In this exploration of the unknown regions of Western Virginia, he was accompanied by five companions. Reaching Red River early in June, they beheld from an eminence the beautiful region of Kentucky. A pioneer named Finley is supposed by some to have been the first explorer of the interior of Kentucky, and it is said that he visited it alone; it is difficult to determine a matter of this kind, and the first exploration has been attributed to others. According to McClung,* it was Finley's glowing picture of the country, on his return home, in 1767, that allured Boone to venture into the wilderness. Kentucky, it appears, was not inhabited by the Indians, they having not a wigwam there; but the Southern and Northwestern Indians resorted there, as on a neutral ground, to hunt, and often came into collision and engaged in conflicts, which, according to some, gave it the name of Kentucky, or "the dark and bloody ground;" but the true signification of the word is a matter of doubt. Boone and his companions encamping, began to hunt and to reconnoitre the country. Innumerable buffaloes browsed on the leaves of the cane, or pastured on the herbage of the plains, or lingered on the border of the salt-lick. In December, Boone and a comrade, John Stuart, rambling in the magnificence of forests yet unscarred by the axe, were surprised by a party of Indians and captured. Boone met the catastrophe with a mien of stoical indifference. A week after

* Sketches of Western Adventure.

the capture the party encamped in the evening in a thick canebrake, and having built a large fire, lay down to rest. About midnight, Boone gently awaking his companion, they effected their escape, traversing the forest by the uncertain light of the stars, and by observing the mossy side of the trees. Returning to their camp they found it plundered and deserted; and the fate of its occupants could not be doubted. A brother of Boone, with another hardy adventurer, shortly after overtook the two forlorn survivors. It was not long before Stuart was slain by the savages and scalped, and the companion of Boone's brother devoured by wolves. The two brothers remained in a wilderness untrod by the white man, surrounded by perils, and far from the reach of succor. With unshaken fortitude they continued to hunt, and erected a rude cabin to shelter them from the storms of winter. When threatened by the approach of savages, they lay during the night concealed in swamps. In May, 1770, Boone's brother returned home for horses and ammunition, leaving him alone, without bread, salt, or sugar, or even a horse or a dog. Daniel Boone, in one of his solitary excursions made at this time, wandered during the whole day through a region whose native charms dispelled every gloomy thought. Just at the close of day, when the gales were lulled, not a breath of air stirring the leaves, he gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking around, with delight beheld the ample regions mapped out beneath. On one hand he saw the beautiful Ohio delineating the western boundary of Kentucky; while at a distance the mountains lifted their peaks to the clouds. All nature was still. He kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck killed a few hours before. As night folded her mysterious wings he heard the distant yells of savages; but, worn out with fatigue, he fell asleep, and did not awake until the morning beams were glancing through the forest glades, and the birds warbling their matin songs. No populous city, with all its excitements and attractions, could have pleased him half so much as the charms of nature in Kentucky. Rejoined by his brother, in the summer of 1770, he explored the valley of the Cumberland River. In 1771 Daniel Boone, after an absence of three years, returned to his home on the Yadkin; sold such of his pos

sessions as he could not carry with him, and started with his family to return and settle in Kentucky. Some cows, horses, and household utensils formed his baggage. His wife and children were mounted on horseback, their neighbors regarding them as doomed to certain destruction. On the route he was reenforced by five families, and forty armed men at Powell's Valley. In October the young men who had charge of the packhorses and cattle in the rear, were surprised by Indians, and of seven only one escaped; six were slain, and among them Boone's oldest son. This occurred near the gap of the Cumberland Mountains, whose dark gorges, rocky cliffs, and hoary summits strike the mind of the beholder with awe. The Indians were repulsed with heavy loss; but the whites retired forty miles to the settlement on the Clinch River, where Boone with his family remained for some time. Virginia in vain demanded of the Cherokees the surrender of the offenders. One of Boone's party, in retaliation, afterwards slew an Indian at a horse-race on the frontier, in spite of the interposition of the by-standers. In 1774, at the request of Governor Dunmore, Boone, leaving his family on the banks of the Clinch, went to assist in conveying a party of surveyors to the falls of the Ohio. He was next employed in the command of three garrisons during the campaign against the Shawnees. In March of the ensuing year, at the solicitation of some gentlemen of North Carolina, Boone, at the treaty of Watauga, purchased from the Cherokees of North Carolina the lands claimed by them, lying between the Kentucky River and the Tennessee. But Kentucky being within the chartered limits of Virginia, she* declared this treaty null and void, and proclaimed her own title. The North Carolina grantees, however, received in compensation a liberal grant of lands on Green River. Boone also undertook to mark out a road from the settlements to the wilderness of Kentucky; during this work several of his men were killed by the savages. In 1775 he erected a fort at Boonsborough, near the Kentucky River, and he removed his family there, and his wife and daughter were supposed to be the first white women that ever stood upon the banks

* See Journal of Convention of '76.

of the Kentucky River; and Boonsborough was long an outpost of civilization.

The remainder of Boone's career, full of stirring adventure, belongs rather to the early history of Kentucky. When the settlements around him began to grow too thick for his taste, he removed farther westward. This extraordinary man, who could neither read nor write, in 1792 dictated a brief account of his life to some youthful writer, whose attempt to enhance the interest of the narrative by rhetorical embellishments afforded no little satisfaction to the unsophisticated old voyager of the woods, and nothing pleased him better than to sit and listen to the reading of it. He would listen attentively, rub his hands together, smile complacently and ejaculate, "All true, every word true! not a lie in it." Solitary hunting, as it had been the charm of his earlier years, afforded him the solace of his old age; and when too old to walk through the woods, he would ride to the edge of the salt-licks and lie there in ambush for the sake of getting a shot at the deer. He was in person rough and robust; his countenance homely but kind; his manner cold, grave, taciturn; his conversation simple and unobtrusive; he never speaking of himself but when questioned. He was withal brave, humane, prudent, and modest.* He died in 1820, aged nearly ninety years.

* McClung's Sketches of Western Adventure, 92.