when they went to church. All around them were
the forests in which the wild red men roamed, and their cruel yell might
be heard at any time, or a sharp arrow might whiz out from the thick
leaves.

The farm-houses were built like forts, and in all the villages were
strong buildings called blockhouses, to which everybody could run in
times of danger. In these the second story spread out over the first,
and there were holes in the floor through which the men could fire down
on the Indians below. But it makes us tremble to think that, at any
time, the traveler or farmer might be shot down by a lurking savage, or
might be seized and burned alive. We can hardly wonder that the people
grew to hate the Indians and to kill them or drive them away.

There was much game in the woods and the rivers were full of fish, so
that many of the people spent their time in hunting and fishing. They
got to be as expert in this as the Indians themselves, and some of them
could follow a trail as well as the most sharp-sighted of the red men.

Some of you may have read Fenimore Cooper's novels of Indian life, and
know what a wonderful hunter and Indian trailer old Natty Bumppo was.
But we do not need to go to novels to read about great hunters, for the
life of Daniel Boone is as full of adventure as that of any of the
heroes of Indian life.

Daniel Boone was the most famous hunter this country has ever known. He
lived much later than the early times I am talking about, but the
country he lived in was as wild as that found by the first settlers of
the country. When he was only a little boy he went into the deep woods
and lived there by himself for several days, shooting game and making a
fire to cook it by. He made himself a little hut of boughs and sods, and
lived in it like an Indian, and there his father and friends found him
when they came seeking him in the woods.

Years afterwards he crossed the high mountains of North Carolina and
went into the great forest of Kentucky, where only Indians and wild
animals lived. For a long time he stayed there by himself, with the
Indians hunting and trying to kill him. But he was too wide awake for
the smartest of them all.

One time, when they were close on his trail, he got away from them by
catching hold of a loose grape-vine and making a long swinging jump, and
then running on. When the Indians came to the place they lost the marks
of his footprints and gave up the chase. At another time when h