of maidenly modesty. As for Boone, he
was incurably wounded by her, whose eyes he had _shined_, and as he was
remarkable for the backwoods attribute of _never being beaten out of his
track_, he ceased not to woo, until he gained the heart of Rebecca
Bryan. In a word, he courted her successfully, and they were married.

CHAPTER II.

Boone removes to the head waters of the Yadkin river--He meets with
Finley, who had crossed the mountains into Tennessee--They agree to
explore the wilderness west of the Alleghanies together.

After his marriage, Boone's first step was to consider where he should
find a place, in which he could unite the advantages of fields to
cultivate, and range for hunting. True to the impulse of his nature, he
plunged deeper into the wilderness, to realize this dream of comfort and
happiness. Leaving his wife, he visited the unsettled regions of North
Carolina, and selected a spot near the head waters of the Yadkin, for
his future home.

The same spirit that afterwards operated to take Mrs. Boone to Kentucky,
now led her to leave her friends, and follow her husband to a region
where she was an entire stranger. Men change their place of abode from
ambition or interest; women from affection. In the course of a few
months, Daniel Boone had reared comfortable cabins upon a pleasant
eminence at a little distance from the river bank, inclosed a field, and
gathered around him the means of abundance and enjoyment. His dwelling,
though of rude exterior, offered the weary traveller shelter, a cheerful
fire, and a plentiful board, graced with the most cordial welcome. The
faces that looked on him were free from the cloud of care, the
constraint of ceremony, and the distrust and fear, with which men learn
to regard one another in the midst of the rivalry, competition, and
scramble of populous cities. The spoils of the chase gave variety to his
table, and afforded Boone an excuse for devoting his leisure hours to
his favorite pursuit. The country around spread an ample field for its
exercise, as it was almost untouched by the axe of the woodsman.

The lapse of a few years--passed in the useful and unpretending
occupations of the husbandman--brought no external change to Daniel
Boone, deserving of record. His step was now the firm tread of sober
manhood; and his purpose the result of matured reflection. This
influence of the progress of time, instead of obliterating the original
impress of his character