e.

Henry and Ross approached fearlessly, and when they were near the fire
the two men rose in the manner of those who would receive visitors. When
they stood erect the distinction of their appearance, a distinction
which was not of dress or cultivation but which was a subtle something
belonging to the woods and the wilderness, was heightened. They differed
greatly in age. One was in middle years, and the other quite young, not
more than twenty-two or three. Each was of medium height and spare. The
face of the elder, although cut clean and sharp, had a singularly soft
and benevolent expression. Henry observed it as the man turned his calm
blue eyes upon the two who came to his fire. Both were clad in the
typical border costume, raccoon skin cap, belted deerskin hunting shirt,
leggings and moccasins of the same material, and each carried the
long-barreled Kentucky rifle, hatchet, and knife. Their dress was
careful and clean, and their bearing erect and dignified. Their
appearance inspired respect.

Henry looked at them with the greatest curiosity. He believed that he
knew the name of the elder man, but he was not yet sure.

"My name is Henry Ware," said Henry, "and my friend is Tom Ross. Our
home is at Wareville in Kentucky, whenever we happen to be there, which
hasn't been often lately."

"I think I've heard of both of you," said the elder man in mild tones
that accorded well with his expression. "Mine is Boone, Dan'l Boone, and
this young fellow here with me is Simon Kenton. Simon's a good boy, an'
he's learnin' a lot."

Henry instinctively took off his cap. Already the name of Boone was
celebrated along the whole border, and it was destined to become famous
throughout the English-speaking world. The reputation of Simon Kenton,
daring scout, explorer, and Indian fighter, was also large already.

"We're proud to see you, Mr. Boone and Mr. Kenton," said Henry, "and to
shake your hands. When we saw this fire we did not dream what men we
were to find sitting beside it."

Daniel Boone laughed in his kindly, gentle way, and his fine large eyes
beamed benevolence. Nor was this any assumption or trick of manner, as
Henry soon learned. The man's nature was one of absolute simplicity and
generosity. With a vast knowledge of the woods and a remarkable
experience, he was as honest as a child.

"I'm nothin' but plain Dan'l Boone," he said, "an' there ain't any
reason why you should be proud to see me. But white folks ought