faithful to the trust reposed in him; but the difficulties and dangers
of the way were so great for a solitary individual upon the route before
him, that Boone feared he might fall a victim to them, notwithstanding
the utmost exertion of self-possession and fortitude.

Day after day passed, after the extreme limit of the period fixed by the
elder Boone for his return, and still he came not. It may be imagined
that Boone had need of all the firmness and philosophy of character,
with which he was so largely endowed by nature, to sustain him under the
pressure of anxiety for the safety of his brother, and to hear through
him from his family. He suffered, too, from the conviction that he must
soon starve in the wilderness himself, as his ammunition was almost
gone. He could not hope to see his family again, unless his brother or
some other person furnished him the means of obtaining food on his way
to rejoin them. His rifle--his dependence for subsistence and
defence--would soon become entirely useless. What to others would have
been real dangers and trials--a solitary life in the wilderness,
exposure to the attacks of the savages and wild beasts--were regarded by
him as nothing; but here he saw himself driven to the last extremity,
and without resource. These meditations, although they made him
thoughtful, did not dispirit him. His spirit was unconquerable. He was
sitting one evening, near sunset, at the door of his cabin, indulging in
reflections naturally arising from his position. His attention was
withdrawn by a sound as of something approaching through the forest.
Looking up, he saw nothing, but he arose, and stood prepared for
defence. He could now distinguish the sound as of horses advancing
directly towards the cabin. A moment afterwards he saw, through the
trees, his brother mounted on one horse, and leading another heavily
laden.