ise a crop,
&c., pre-emption rights to such lands as they might occupy were also
granted. Entries of these certificates were made in a way so loose, that
different men frequently located the same lands; one title would often
lap over upon another; and almost all the titles conferred in this way
became known as "the lapping, or shingle titles." Continued lawsuits
sprang out of this state of things; no man knew what belonged to him.
Boone had made these loose entries of his lands: his titles, of course,
were disputed. It was curious to see the old man in a court of law, which
he thoroughly despised, fighting for his rights. He was greatly provoked;
he had explored and redeemed the wilderness, as he said, borne every
hardship with his wife and children, only to be cheated at last. But the
law decided against him; he lost his lands, and would now no longer
remain in that region.

Hearing that buffaloes and deer were still plenty about the Great Kanhawa
river, he started thither with his wife and children, and settled near
Point Pleasant. Here he remained several years. He was disappointed in
not finding game as he expected, and was more of a farmer here than ever
before; he turned his attention earnestly to agriculture, and was very
successful in raising good crops. Still he was dissatisfied; he longed
for the wilderness. Hunting and trapping were the constant thoughts of
his life.

While living here, he met accidentally with a party of men who had been
out upon the upper waters of the Missouri. These men talked of the beauty
of that region: they had stories to tell of grizzly bears, buffaloes,
deer, beavers, and otters--in fact, the region was in their eyes "the
paradise for a hunter." Fired by these stories, Boone resolved to go
there. Accordingly, he gathered together all that he possessed, and with
his wife and family started for Missouri, driving his herds and cattle
before him. It was strange to see an old man thus vigorous in seeking a
new home. He was an object of surprise to every one. When he reached
Cincinnati, on his route, some one, marking his age, and surprised at his
adventure, asked him how, at his time of life, he could leave all the
comforts of home, for the wilderness. His answer shows his whole
character: "Too much crowded, too much crowded," said he; "I want more
elbow-room." Travelling on, he at length reached Missouri, and,
proceeding about fifty miles above St. Louis, settled in what is now St.
Ch