untenance, I saw all the
devil alive there. The will remained--the power only had gone. It was a
sight never to be forgotten. With head raised to the full stretch of his
neck, he glared at me with an expression of such malignity, that it
almost made one quail. I thought of the native superstition of singeing
off the whiskers of the newly killed tiger to lay his spirit, and no
longer wondered at it. With ears back, and mouth bleeding, he growled
and roared in fitful uncertainty, as if he were trying, but unable, to
measure the extent of the force that had laid him low.

Motionless myself, provocation ceased, and without further attempt to
get on his legs, he continued to gaze on me; when I slowly lowered my
head to the sight, and again pulled trigger. This time, true to the
mark, the ball entered just above the breastbone, and the smoke cleared
off with his death-groan. There he lay, foot to foot with his victim of
last night, motionless--dead. My first impulse was to tear down the door
behind, and get a thorough view of his proportions; but remembering
that his companion, the tigress, had vanished only a short time ago
close to the scene of action, I thought it as well to remain where I
was; so, enlarging the windows with my hands, I took a long look, and
then jovially attacked the coffee without reference to noise, and fell
back on the mattress to sleep, or to think the night's work over. "At
last, I have got him: his skin will be pegged out to-morrow, drying
before the tent door." When my people came in the morning, they found me
seated on the dead tiger. Coolies were sent for to carry the beast, and
I gave the pony his reins all the way back to the tent.

FRASER'S MAGAZINE

[Illustration: ATTACK ON BOONESBOROUGH.]

ATTACK OF BOONSBOROUGH.

On the tenth of March, 1778, Daniel Boone, having been taken prisoner by
the Indians, was conducted to Detroit, when Governor Hamilton himself
offered one hundred pounds sterling, for his ransom; but so great was
the affection of the Indians for their prisoner, that it was positively
refused. Boone's anxiety on account of his wife and children was
incessant, and the more intolerable as he dared not excite the
suspicions of his captors by any indication of a wish to return home.

The Indians were now preparing for a violent attack upon the settlements
in Kentucky. Early in June, four hundred and fifty of the choicest
warriors were ready to march against Boonesborough, pain