He then plunged in, and, by swimming and wading, seized the canoe
when it was within but about twenty feet of the roaring falls. With
almost superhuman exertions he succeeded in dragging it to the
shore.

This event David Crockett has mentioned as the first which left any
lasting imprint upon his memory. Not long after this, another
occurrence took place characteristic of frontier life. Joseph
Hawkins, a brother of David's mother, crossed the mountains and
joined the Crockett family in their forest home. One morning he went
out to shoot a deer, repairing to a portion of the forest much
frequented by this animal. As he passed a very dense thicket, he saw
the boughs swaying to and fro, where a deer was apparently browsing.
Very cautiously he crept within rifle-shot, occasionally catching a
glimpse, through the thick foliage, of the ear of the animal,--as he
supposed.

Taking deliberate aim he fired, and immediately heard a loud outcry.
Rushing to the spot, he found that he had shot a neighbor, who was
there gathering grapes. The ball passed through his side, inflicting
a very serious though not a fatal wound, as it chanced not to strike
any vital part. The wounded man was carried home; and the rude
surgery which was practised upon him was to insert a silk
handkerchief with a ramrod in at the bullet-hole, and draw it
through his body. He recovered from the wound.

Such a man as John Crockett forms no local attachments, and never
remains long in one place. Probably some one came to his region and
offered him a few dollars for his improvements. He abandoned his
cabin, with its growing neighborhood, and packing his few household