who thought
only of warmth, food, and clothing; who had no conception of
intellectual, moral, or religious cravings.

The kind-hearted father-in-law, who had accompanied his children on
foot upon this long journey, that he might see them settled in their
own home, now bade them adieu, and retraced the forest trails back to
his own far-distant cabin. A man who could develop, unostentatiously,
such generosity and such self-sacrifice, must have possessed some rare
virtues. We regret our inability to record the name of one who thus
commands our esteem and affection.

In this humble home, David Crockett and his family resided two years.
He appears to have taken very little interest in the improvement of his
homestead. It must be admitted that Crockett belonged to the class of
what is called loafers. He was a sort of Rip Van Winkle. The forest and
the mountain stream had great charms for him. He loved to wander in
busy idleness all the day, with fishing-rod and rifle; and he would
often return at night with a very ample supply of game. He would then
lounge about his hut, tanning deerskins for moccasins and breeches,
performing other little jobs, and entirely neglecting all endeavors to
improve his farm, or to add to the appearance or comfort of the
miserable shanty which he called his home.

He had an active mind, and a very singular command of the language of
low, illiterate life, and especially of backwoodman's slang. Though not
exactly a vain man, his self-confidence was imperturbable, and there
was perhaps not an individual in the world to whom he looked up as in
any sense his superior. In hunting, his skill became very remarkable,
and few, even of the best marksmen, could throw the bullet with more
unerring aim.

At the close of two years of this listless, solitary life, Crockett,
without any assigned reason, probably influenced only by that vagrancy
of spirit which had taken entire possession of the man, made another
move. Abandoning his crumbling shanty and untilled fields, he directed
his steps eastwardly through the forest, a distance of about forty
miles, to what is now Franklin County. Here he reared another hut, on
the banks of a little stream called Bear's Creek. This location was
about ten miles below the present hamlet of Winchester.

An event now took place which changed the whole current of David
Crockett's life, leading him from his lonely cabin and the peaceful
scenes of a hunter's life to the field o