Episode Number One

Into The Wilderness

DANIEL AND REBECCA HEADED WESTWARD

The story of how Daniel Boone came to the valley of the Femme Osage is told in the records of Louisiana Territory. About 1790, weary and discouraged over the failure to secure titles to his lands in Kentucky, and burdened with debts which he could not pay, the old pioneer gave up all the acres that he had acquired by right of discovery as well as purchase, and removed with his family to the valley of the Kanawha. There, in what was the northwestern part of Virginia, but now within the limits of Mason County, W. Virginia, he located. The place was not far from Point Pleasant, where in former years he had fought the Indians.

The Northwestern Territory, as it was then called, was beginning to be occupied by white settlers, and it was believed that the valley of the Kanawha was a good place to catch the drift of trade as it flowed from the east to the west. And there Boone proposed to establish a small store and go into the mercantile business!

Imagine Daniel Boone as a country merchant! He had never tasted a drop of whisky in his life and did not believe in its utility; and he and his family were more accustomed to buckskin clothing than they were to calico or gingham. Without these essentials of the times there was nothing for the country merchant to buy or sell; but the old hunter did not consider these things. In matters of every-day life he was as simple as a child. He dreamed of empires and lived in the woods among the flowers and the birds.

We do not know what progress he made in selling calico and molasses and fiery licker, for there is no record of his experience as a country merchant. Not a line even in his “Lost Manuscript” mentions it.

But soon after the new settlement had been effected, the eldest son, Daniel Morgan Boone, himself a pioneer of growing reputation, traveled into the distant Territory of Upper Louisiana on a hunting and trapping expedition, and the fame of his father having preceded him he was most cordially welcomed by the Spanish authorities at St. Louis. Senor Zenon Trudeau, Lieutenant-Governor of the Territory, suggested that if the celebrated Colonel Boone would come with his family to Upper Louisiana the Spanish King would appreciate the act and reward him handsomely. He even intimated that the great pioneer would be appointed Commandant of a vast district north of the Missouri River and extending indefinitely westward to the fabled South Sea; and in addition would be richly rewarded with land grants that would enable him to establish in that region a Palatinate more extensive and powerful than any European Empire. The Lieutenant-Governor was profuse in building empires in the air!

When Daniel the younger returned home and told his father of these things, explaining the cordiality of the Spanish authorities, the excellence of the climate, the richness of the soil, the great rivers on whose bosoms would float the commerce of a new world, and especially the abundance of game,the imagination of the old hunter was inflamed. Without waiting to dispose of his little stock of goods, he placed his family and a few essential necessaries on pack-horses, and with himself at their head set out to become a builder of empires. Clad in buckskin, a coonskin cap on his head, and his flint-lock rifle on his shoulder, he represented the beginning of what was to be the world’s greatest nation.

There were no roads through the forest, no bridges or boats to carry them across the intervening streams and rivers, and almost every step of the way was infested with wild beasts and savage men. There was not even a path or a blazed tree to intimate that some white man had traveled that way before; but at almost every step could be heard the rattle or hiss of some deadly serpent, the howl of a hungry wolf, or the ferocious shriek of the bloody-minded panther.

Through this teaming wilderness the old hunter led the way, a smile of hopefulness lighting up his face, his eyes flaming with a vision that none but he could recognize, his courage supported by the brave woman who followed and believed in him as she did her God. At night she looked after the comfort of the children and the preparation of their food, broiled the bear and buffalo steaks, and was at all times the life and soul of the party. We may admire Boone and wonder at the things he did, but back of him and serving as his inspiration was the beautiful woman who had made her life a part of his. Truly, if there had been no Rebecca there might have been no Daniel.

A Brilliant Messenger

Somewhere in the wilderness, perhaps a hundred miles east of St. Louis, they were met by a messenger carrying a letter of welcome from the Lieutenant-Governor. The letter stated that the Lt.-Governor had been informed by his runners that Colonel Boone and his family were on the way, and he was taking this method to extend his personal and official welcome; and to assure them of a cordial reception on their arrival at the Spanish capitol. Every necessary thing would be done for their comfort, and a state barge would meet them at the landing opposite the city to convey them across the great river. The communication was couched in the usual grandiloquent terms of Spanish official documents of the period, but it bore evidence of being sincere.

The messenger was suited to the occasion. He was a chief in the great Fox tribe of Illinois Indians, tall, straight, dignified. In his scalp-lock he wore an eagle’s feather, to intimate that while he had taken many scalps himself his own was still in place. In his hand he carried a rifle of the most modern type, the stock ornamented with carvings and inlaid with silver, while the polished barrel flashed and glittered in the sunlight. In his belt rested a tomahawk and hunting knife, keen-edged and dangerous, and over his shoulder was carelessly folded a blanket of the finest texture, confined at the waist by his belt and giving to his stately person the dignity of a Roman Senator. Boone thought he was the finest specimen of an Indian chief that he had ever seen, and appreciating the importance of the message he did not wonder at the splendor of the messenger.

“How!” exclaimed the chief, as he strode up to the great white hunter and extended his hand in a friendly greeting.

“How!” responded Boone, grasping the proffered token. And such was the introduction of the splendid messenger and the famous white chieftain.

“Me heap plenty run!” said the red chief, by way of explaining his office; and Boone understood that he was head of a band of runners employed by the Government. It was the duty of these men to be not only familiar with the vast domains, but also fleet of foot, polished in manner, brave and alert.

The camp for the night had already been made, on the bank of a stream with water clear and cold as that of the springs by which it was fed; and when the chief had been formerly introduced to the family, a collation more ample than any to which he had been accustomed was spread before him. He ate heartily, almost greedily, for since leaving St. Louis he had tasted nothing but a little water and a few grains of parched corn, always provided in cases like this. Meanwhile Boone cut and arranged some cedar boughs for a couch, and covering them with a blanket signed to the chief that it would be his resting-place for the night. Wearied with his long run, he retired early, and slept until the break of day.

An Impolite Bear

When the chief awoke the smell of roasting meat gladdened the heart, for he was still hungry. Arising and bathing his hands and face in the stream, he came and sat by the fire and watched Rebecca as she broiled a thick buffalo steak and baked some corn bread in the hot ashes. It was the grateful odor of the steaming food which had awakened him.

“Plenty good!” he exclaimed, by way of complement, sniffing up the fragrant air and smiling in anticipation of the good things that were to come.

“We also have honey,” said Rebecca, exhibiting a large comb which Daniel had just brought in from the woods; “and some fish.”

The chief was delighted. It was to be a grand feast, and he longed to be at it.

“Heap plenty good!” he cried.

But the words were scarcely out of his mouth when a huge black bear ambled into the midst, and overturning the frying-pan helped himself to the hot steak.

With a yell of anger the chief sprang upon his back, and began beating him about the head with his fists; whereupon the bear dropped the meat and fled into the woods roaring with terror. The chief wound the fingers of his left hand in the thick fur of the beast and grimly held on as they raced through the forest, yelling at each jump and pounding the bear with his right hand. Boone tried to draw a bead on the fleeing animal, but its movements were so rapid and irregular that he dared not fire lest he might wound the chief.

Over logs and across ravines, brushing against trees and tearing through canebreaks, dashed the terror-stricken bear; but all to no purpose. The yelling warrior could not be unseated, and all the while his blows were coming heavier and more telling. Boone expected the bear to roll over and crush his rider or brush him off; but the beast was so...