"Mr. —— moved from old Virginia into Kentucky, and having a large tract granted to him in the new state, laid claim to a certain parcel of land adjoining Green river, and as chance would have it, he took for one of his corners the very ash tree on which I had made my mark, and finished his survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as it is expressed in the deed, "at an ash marked by three distinct notches of the tomahawk of a white man."
"The tree had grown much, and the bark had covered the marks; but, some how or other, Mr. —— heard from some one all that I have already said to you, and thinking that I might remember the spot alluded to in the deed, but which was no longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and try at least to find the place on the tree. His letter mentioned, that all my expenses should be paid; and not caring much about once more going back to Kentucky, I started and met Mr.——. After some conversation, the affair with the Indians came to my recollection. I considered for a while, and began to think that after all, I could find the very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet standing.
"Mr. —— and I mounted our horses, and off we went to the Green river bottoms. After some difficulties, for you must be aware, sir, that great changes had taken place in these woods, I found at last the spot where I had crossed the river, and waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course in which I thought the ash tree grew. On approaching the place, I felt as if the Indians were there still, and as if I was still a prisoner among them, Mr. —— and I camped near what I conceived the spot, and waited till the, return of day.
"At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and after a good deal of musing, thought that an ash tree then in sight must be the very one on which I had made my mark. I felt as if there could be no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to Mr. ——. "Well, Colonel Boone," said he, "if you think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must have some witnesses; do you stay hereabout, and I will go and bring some of the settlers whom I know." I agreed. Mr. —— trotted off, and I, to pass the time, rambled about to see if a deer was still living in the land. But ah! sir, what a wonderful difference thirty years makes in the country! Why, at the time when I was caught by the Indians, you would not have walked out in any direction for more than a mile without shooting a buck or a bear. There were then thousands of buffaloes on the hills in Kentucky; the land looked as if it would never become poor; and to hunt in those days was a pleasure indeed. But when I was left to myself on the banks of Green river, I dare say for the last time in my life, a few signs only of deer were to be seen, and as to a deer itself, I saw none.
"Mr. —— returned, accompanied by three gentlemen. They looked upon me as if I had been Washington himself, and walked to the ash tree which I now called my own, as if in quest of a long lost treasure. I took an axe from one of them and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no signs were to be seen. So I cut again, until I thought it time to be cautious, and I scraped and worked away with my butcher knife, until I did come to where my tomahawk had left an impression in the wood. We now went regularly to work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three hacks, as plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr. —— and the other gentlemen were astonished, and, I must allow, I was as much surprised as pleased, myself. I made affidavit of this remarkable occurrence in the presence of these gentlemen. Mr. —— gained his cause. I left Green river, forever, and came to where we now are; and, sir, I wish you a good night."
CHAPTER XVI.
Progress of improvement in Missouri—Old age of Boone—Death of his wife—He goes to reside with his son—His death—His personal appearance and character.
Soon after the purchase of Missouri from the French by our government, the American system of government began to be introduced there. American laws, American courts, and the whole American system of politics and jurisprudence spread over the country, changing, by degrees, the features of civil society; infusing life and vigor into the body politic, and introducing that restless spirit of speculation and improvement which characterise the people of the United States. The tide of emigration once more swept by the dwelling of Daniel Boone, driving off the game and monopolizing the rich hunting grounds. His office of commandant was merged and lost in the new order of things. He saw that it was in vain to contend with fate; that go where he would, American enterprize seemed doomed to follow him, and to thwart all his schemes of backwoods retirement. He found himself once more surrounded by the rapid march of improvement, and he accommodated himself, as well as he might, to a state of things which he could not prevent. He had the satisfaction of seeing his children well settled around him, and he spent his time in hunting and exploring the new country.
Meantime, old age began to creep upon him by degrees, and he had the mortification to find himself surpassed in his own favorite pursuit. The sharp shooters, and younger hunters could scour the forests with fleeter pace, and bring down the bears and buffaloes with surer aim, than his time-worn frame, and impaired vision would allow. Even the French, with their fleets of periogues, ascended the Missouri to points where his stiffened sinews did not permit him to follow. These volatile and babbling hunters, with their little, and to him despicable shot guns, could bring down a turkey, where the rifle bullet, now directed by his dimmed eye, could not reach. It was in vain that the sights were made more conspicuous by shreds of white paper. No vigor of will can repair the irresistible influence of age. And however the heart and juvenile remembrances of Boone might follow these brisk and talkative hunters to the Rocky mountains and the Western sea, the sad consciousness that years were stronger than the subduer of bears and Indians, came over his mind like a cloud.
Other sorrows came also with age. In March, 1813, he had the misfortune to lose his wife. She had been to him a faithful companion—participating the same heroic and generous nature with himself. She had followed him from North Carolina into the far wilderness, without a road or even a trace to guide their way—surrounded at every step by wild beasts and savages, and was one of the first white women in the state of Kentucky. She had united her fate to his, and in all his hardships, perils, and trials, had stood by him, a meek, yet courageous and affectionate friend. She was now taken from him in his old age, and he felt for a time, that he was alone in the world, and that the principal tie to his own existence was sundered.