Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman

by C. H. Forbes-Lindsay

While this understanding was being reached, Hardy stood beside his adoptive father, an interested listener. Boone now turned to him.

“Hardy,” he said, with a grim smile, “here’s a fine chance to go back again, if you want to.”

The boy looked up at the hunter with an expression of mingled surprise and reproach.

“Didn’t we make a bargain?” he asked.

“That we did, Hardy,” replied Boone heartily, slapping the lad on the back, “that we did, and I’m to blame for doubting you.”

So it was settled, and the next morning the entire party set out on the back trail. Boone accompanied the returning settlers for a distance of about forty miles and then bade them farewell and good luck. They parted company in the Valley of the Clinch, near the headwaters of the river of that name. Boone had noticed a deserted cabin and a small clearing on the banks of the stream and had marked the place for his future home. When the retreating band had disappeared from view, Boone turned his pack-horses towards the spot and before nightfall his little family was comfortably ensconced in the lonely hut.

The Boones were not beyond the bounds of settlement. During the few years previous to their arrival, restless pioneers from the borders of Virginia and North Carolina had pushed out to the valleys this side of the Cumberland Mountains, and there were several scattered “stations” at no great distance, as backwoodsmen computed distance. Indeed, Russell’s Station was next door, being only eight miles away. Boone felt confident that among these adventurous spirits he would soon find some to make up another expedition for the settlement of Kentucky. Meanwhile, there was much to be done. The cabin needed repairing and the clearing had to be attended to. Then there was the winter’s stock of meat to be laid in and some furs, which, as we have said, represented money, to be secured.

Then commenced for Hardy Goodfellow the happiest time of his life. Boone, as soon as he had seen his wife and little ones comfortably settled at home, began to take hunting trips. This was a very necessary part of a backwoodsman’s life, and his wife was quite accustomed to being left alone for weeks and months at a time. For Hardy these excursions afforded the most delightful experience and the most useful education. While he was somewhat better schooled than the average backwoods boy, he was almost a greenhorn in the matters that went to the making of an accomplished frontiersman, his father having but recently arrived with him from England. He had, however, unusual advantages to favor his development into an expert backwoodsman. He was a lusty, well-formed lad, rather tall for his fourteen years. His childhood had been passed in a rural district, and he delighted in outdoor life. He possessed, as Boone had quickly discerned, plenty of pluck and an ample fund of common sense. But Hardy’s greatest good fortune lay in having such an instructor as Boone who, besides being an expert hunter and a master of woodcraft, was a man of splendid character and one calculated to stimulate and develop the inherent good qualities in a pupil.

The glorious “Indian summer” of the South was upon them when they began these wanderings together. Their days were spent mainly in hunting deer, the skins of which were worth a dollar apiece and the meat the most desirable for storing. Under Boone’s directions Hardy soon learned to shoot straight, and also became fairly adept in stalking the game. After a while the hunter would allow his young companion to take the direction of the day’s hunt, when Hardy would be required to calculate from the state of the weather and the condition of the surrounding country where the deer were likely to be found, and to decide from the course of the wind upon the point at which they were to be approached.

Every minute of the day added to the boy’s knowledge and his strength, while his powers of observation and reasoning steadily developed. Hunting is hard work and Boone was no light taskmaster, but despite the fatigue and the bruises and the scratches, Hardy fairly revelled in his new experience, as any healthy boy would. As they tramped along, Boone showed the eager youngster how to detect “signs” of Indians and animals; how to tell whether an upturned stone or leaf had been disturbed by the wind or by the foot of man or beast. He explained to him how, from the barks of trees and other indications, to determine the points of the compass, so that he might travel the wilderness without guide. They studied the habits of birds and animals and practiced mimicking their cries.