fusing life and vigor into the body
politic, and introducing that restless spirit of speculation and
improvement which characterise the people of the United States. The tide
of emigration once more swept by the dwelling of Daniel Boone, driving
off the game and monopolizing the rich hunting grounds. His office of
commandant was merged and lost in the new order of things. He saw that
it was in vain to contend with fate; that go where he would, American
enterprize seemed doomed to follow him, and to thwart all his schemes of
backwoods retirement. He found himself once more surrounded by the rapid
march of improvement, and he accommodated himself, as well as he might,
to a state of things which he could not prevent. He had the satisfaction
of seeing his children well settled around him, and he spent his time in
hunting and exploring the new country.

Meantime, old age began to creep upon him by degrees, and he had the
mortification to find himself surpassed in his own favorite pursuit. The
_sharp shooters_, and younger hunters could scour the forests with
fleeter pace, and bring down the bears and buffaloes with surer aim,
than his time-worn frame, and impaired vision would allow. Even the
French, with their fleets of periogues, ascended the Missouri to points
where his stiffened sinews did not permit him to follow. These volatile
and babbling hunters, with their little, and to him despicable shot
guns, could bring down a turkey, where the rifle bullet, now directed by
his dimmed eye, could not reach. It was in vain that the sights were
made more conspicuous by shreds of white paper. No vigor of will can
repair the irresistible influence of age. And however the heart and
juvenile remembrances of Boone might follow these brisk and talkative
hunters to the Rocky mountains and the Western sea, the sad
consciousness that years were stronger than the subduer of bears and
Indians, came over his mind like a cloud.

Other sorrows came also with age. In March, 1813, he had the misfortune
to lose his wife. She had been to him a faithful companion--participating
the same heroic and generous nature with himself. She had followed him
from North Carolina into the far wilderness, without a road or even a
trace to guide their way--surrounded at every step by wild beasts and
savages, and was one of the first white women in the state of Kentucky.
She had united her fate to his, and in all his hardships, perils, and
trials, had stood by him