rifle with steady aim, and fired. With a wild yell the
panther fell to the ground, and began to retreat. Both were satisfied
that the ball had struck him, and returned again to the camp. The crack
of the rifle had waked their companions; the adventure was made known to
them, and they went quietly to sleep again, satisfied that for the rest
of the night at least that panther would not disturb them.

The next day was a very busy one. Finding game so plenty in the
neighborhood, they determined to lay in a good supply. Part of them were
therefore out in the woods, hunting, while the rest were in the camp,
smoking, drying, and packing the venison for the journey. Fatigued with
these labors, when night came they gladly laid themselves down, and, like
wearied men, slept soundly.

By the first ray of the morning's light the camp was stirring.
Shouldering their rifles and knapsacks, they started on their way. In a
little time they found a dead panther. Boone declared that this was his
panther; the animal was killed with one ball, and by comparing that ball
with those in his shot-bag, he found they were of the same size. In two
or three days they reached the foot of the mountains, and began to
ascend. Their journey was now rough and wearisome, and they made slow
progress. To any men but these, the mountains might have proved
impassable; but they were bent upon finding the new hunting-grounds of
Kentucky, and nothing could keep them back. After climbing the hills day
after day, they found once more that their provisions were gone, and were
again forced to halt. Their camp was built on the side of the mountain,
and their rifles easily supplied their wants. The journey was rigorously
renewed, and after many days of further struggling, they at length found
themselves on one of the tops of the Allegany ridge. Here they were,
upon Cumberland mountain. At this place they halted once more, to look
down upon the magnificent prospect which was spread out before them. This
was their first view of the new region, and they felt that it was all
that Finley had described it to be. It was indeed a glorious country. The
land was covered with trees and flowers; there were the rolling hills,
and the beautiful valleys, and the clear sparkling streams, of which he
had spoken.

The prospect was too beautiful to allow them to tarry long: they panted
to be in that country. With more earnest desires than ever, they
commenced descending the mountains. T