Daniel Boone: The Pioneer of Kentucky

by John S. C. Abbott

"One prominent feature of the wilderness is its solitude. Those who plunged into the bosom of this forest left behind them not only the busy hum of men, but of domesticated animal life generally. The solitude of the night was interrupted only by the howl of the wolf, the melancholy moan of the ill-boding owl or the shriek of the frightful panther. Even the faithful dog, the only steadfast companion of man among the brute creation, partook of the silence of the desert; the discipline of his master forbade him to bark or move but in obedience to his command, and his native sagacity soon taught the propriety of obedience to this severe government.

"The day was, if possible, more solitary than the night. The noise of the wild turkey, the croaking of the raven, or the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech tree, did not much enliven the dreary scene. The various tribes of singing birds are not inhabitants of the desert. They are not carnivorous and therefore must be fed from the labors of man. At any rate they did not exist in this country at its first settlement.

"Let the imagination of the reader pursue the track of the adventurer into the solitary wilderness, bending his course towards the setting sun over undulating hills, under the shade of large forest trees, and wading through the rank weeds and grass which then covered the earth. Now he views from the top of a hill the winding course of a creek whose streams he wishes to explore. Doubtful of its course and of his own, he ascertains the cardinal points of north and south by the thickness of the moss and bark on the north side of the ancient trees. Now descending into a valley, he presages his approach to a river by seeing large ash, basswood and sugar trees beautifully festooned with wild grape vines. Watchful as Argus, his restless eye catches everything around him.

"In an unknown region and surrounded with dangers, he is the sentinel of his own safety and relies on himself for protection. The toilsome march of the day being ended, at the fall of night he seeks for safety some narrow sequestered hollow, and by the side of a large log builds a fire and, after eating a coarse and scanty meal, wraps himself up in his blanket and lays him self down for repose on his bed of leaves, with his feet to the fire, hoping for favorable dreams, ominous of future good luck, while his faithful dog and gun rest by his side.

"But let not the reader suppose that the pilgrim of the wilderness could feast his imagination with the romantic beauties of nature, without any drawback from conflicting passions. His situation did not afford him much time for contemplation. He was an exile from the warm clothing and plentiful mansions of society. His homely woodman's dress soon became old and ragged. The cravings of hunger compelled him to sustain from day to day the fatigues of the chase. Often he had to eat his venison, bear's meat, or wild turkey without bread or salt. His situation was not without its dangers. He did not know at what moment his foot might be stung by a serpent, at what moment he might meet with the formidable bear, or on what limb of a tree over his head the murderous panther might be perched, in a squatting attitude, to drop down upon him and tear him in pieces in a moment.

"Exiled from society and its comforts, the situation of the first adventurers was perilous in the extreme. The bite of a serpent, a broken limb, a wound of any kind, or a fit of sickness in the wilderness without those accommodations which wounds and sickness require, was a dreadful calamity. The bed of sickness, without medical aid, and above all to be destitute of the kind attention of a mother, sister, wife, or other female friends, was a situation which could not be anticipated by the tenant of the forest, with other sentiments than those of the deepest horror."[D]

There are no narratives of more thrilling interest than those which describe the perils and hair-breadth escapes which some of these bold hunters encountered. Immediately after the purchase of Louisiana, an expedition under Lewis and Clark was fitted out, under President Jefferson's administration, to explore the vast, mysterious, undefined realms which the government had purchased. In the month of May, 1804, the expedition, in birch canoes, commenced the ascent of the Missouri river.

They knew not whence its source, what its length or the number of its tributaries, through what regions of fertility or barrenness it flowed, or what the character of the nations who might inhabit its banks. Paddling up the rapid current of this flood of waters in their frail boats, the ascent was slow. By the latter part of October they had reached a point fifteen hundred miles above the spot where the Missouri enters the Mississippi. Here they spent the winter with some friendly Indians called the Mandans.

Early in April, Lewis and Clark, with thirty men in their canoes, resumed their voyage. Their course was nearly west. In May they reached the mouth of the Yellow Stone river, and on the 13th of June came to the Great Falls of the Missouri. Here they found a series of cataracts ten miles in length. At one spot the river plunged over a precipice eighty-seven feet in height. Carrying their canoes around these falls, they re-embarked, and paddled through what they called "The Gates of the Rocky Mountains." Here for six miles they were in a narrow channel with perpendicular walls of rock, rising on both sides to the height of twelve hundred feet. Thus these adventurers continued their voyage till they reached the head of navigation, three thousand miles from the mouth of the Missouri river. Passing through the mountains they launched their canoes on streams flowing to the west, through which they entered the Columbia river, reaching its mouth, through a thousand perils on the 15th of November. They were now more than four thousand miles distant from the mouth of the Missouri. Such was the breadth of the estate we had purchased of France.

Here they passed their second winter. In the early spring they commenced their return. When they arrived at the Falls of the Missouri they encountered a numerous band of Indians, very bold and daring, called the Blackfoot. These savages were astonished beyond measure, at the effect of the rifle which could emit thunder and lightning, and a deadly though invisible bolt. Some of the boldest endeavored to wrench the rifles from some of the Americans. Mr. Lewis found it necessary to shoot one of them before they would desist. The rest fled in dismay, but burning with the desire for revenge. The explorers continuing their voyage arrived at Saint Louis on the 23rd of September, 1806, having been absent more than two years, and having traveled more than nine thousand miles.