with a clear bound. Boone
climbed over as fast as he could with his rifle, but the game had got
ahead. Nothing daunted by this, he pushed on, until he found himself at
last not very far from Mr. Bryan's home. But the animal was gone. It was
a strange chase. He determined to go into Mr Bryan's house, and tell his
adventure. As he drew near, the dogs raised a loud barking, the master
came out, bade him welcome, and carried him into the house. Mr. Bryan
had scarcely introduced him to his family as "the son of his neighbor
Boone," when suddenly the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed
a little lad of seven, followed by a girl of sixteen years, crying out,
"O father! father! sister is frightened to death! She went down to the
river, and was chased by a panther!" The hunter and his game had met.
There stood Boone, leaning upon his rifle, and Rebecca Bryan before him,
gasping for breath. From that moment he continued to pursue it; Farmer
Bryan's house became a favorite resort for him; he loved it as well as
the woods. The business was now changed: Rebecca Bryan completely
_shined his eyes_; and after a time, to the great joy of themselves and
both families, Daniel Boone and Rebecca Bryan were married. It proved,
as you will see, a very happy marriage to both parties.

Being now a married man, it became Daniel Boone's duty to seek a new
home for himself. In a little time, therefore, he left his wife, and
wandered into the unsettled parts of North Carolina in search of one.
After moving about for some time, he found, upon the head-waters of the
Yadkin, a rich soil, covered with a heavy and once more unbroken forest.
"Here," thought Daniel Boone, "is the resting-place for me; here Rebecca
Bryan and myself may be happy: this shall be our home." He returned to
his wife, and she, with a cheerful heart, joined in all his plans. With
tears in her eyes, she bade farewell to her friends; yet, with a light
spirit, she started off with her husband. A clearing in the woods was
soon made, a log cabin of his own soon built, and a portion of ground
planted. Boone seems now to have thought that he must do something more
than use his rifle. He was to make a home for his wife and busied
himself, accordingly, in enlarging his farm as fast as he could, and
industriously cultivating it. Still, on his busiest day, he would find a
leisure hour to saunter with his gun to the woods, and was sure never to
return without game. His own table was