t passed the brow of a small hill; the heavy
grape-vines were hanging from the trees all around him. He seized one of
these, and, bracing himself against the tree with his feet, threw himself
as far as he could. This broke the trail, and he now kept directly on
from the spot where he landed, in a different direction. The Indians came
up, tracking him as far as the tree: were then lost, and gave up the
chase.

Another adventure is told of him during his lonely wanderings, more
perilous even than this. One day he heard a strange noise in the woods;
he could see nothing, but stood ready with his rifle. Presently an
immense she-bear was seen approaching him. Surrounded by her young cubs,
she was doubly fierce. As she came near, Boone levelled his rifle and
fired. Unfortunately, his steady eye failed this time; the ball did not
strike as he had aimed, and the animal pressed forward, the more enraged.
It was impossible to load again: the bear was upon him; he had only time
to draw his hunting-knife from his belt. The bear laid her paws on him,
and drew him toward her. The rifle in his left hand was a sort of guard,
while with his right he pointed the knife directly for the heart of the
animal. As she grasped him, the knife entered her body, and she fell
dead.

As the time drew near for the return (as he thought) of his brother,
Boone went back to the old camp where they had lodged together, to meet
him. Here day after day he kept his lookout--day after day he was
disappointed. He began now to be very sad. He did not doubt his brother's
fidelity; he knew he would not desert him; but there were many dangers by
the way, and perhaps he had perished. Then he thought, too, of his wife
and little ones. If that brother had perished, he likewise must die
without seeing them. Without ammunition to procure food, or defend
himself, what could he do? He must die, there in the wilderness. His
brother had been absent now nearly three months: surely it was time for
his return. Another day of disappointment was now drawing to a close, as
Boone sat, sick at heart, by the door of his cabin. A sound broke on his
ear; he rose and stood listening, with his hand on the lock of his rifle.
It was the tread of horses. The next moment he saw his brother through
the forest leading two horses heavily laden. Here was abundance of
ammunition and other comfort. The evening of the 27th of July was long
after this remembered by Daniel Boone as one of the mos