int
Creek town, and had spied upon the town itself, he and scout Montgomery
had stayed while the others hastened back to Boonesborough. They were
not at all satisfied to have come so far and to have taken only one
scalp.

Now this Simon Butler or Simon Kenton was a dare-devil pure and simple:
a youth of roguish but extremely obstinate spirit. He had started upon
the adventure trail at sixteen, and here at twenty-three he already had
many hair-breadth escapes in his memory and many notches in his
rifle-stock.

First, when he was sixteen he had fallen in love, at his home in
Virginia, and had fought a rough-and-tumble with his man rival, by name
William Veach or else Leitchman. He seemed to be holding Leitchman
pretty even, too--until his rival's friends jumped in and pummeled
Simon well.

Lad Simon limped away, bruised and bleeding, scarcely able to walk--for
such fights were wild-cat fights with claws and teeth. He bided his
time; he grew rapidly, and by April, 1771, being six feet tall at last
(the true border height) and strongly muscled, he challenged Leitchman
again.

They stepped into the timber, and fought. It was nip and tuck. No
friends were at hand. But Simon was still too young; down he went,
under the rain of blows, and Leitchman, taunting him with the loss of
his sweetheart, proceeded to "give him the boots."

Simon lay and took it, saying no word. His mind was active. He noted
his enemy's long hair, reaching to the waist--a fashion among the
border beaux. An idea occurred to him. He grasped one of the
piston-like legs and sank his teeth into it. Yelling, Leitchman
dragged him and sought to get free. Down he tumbled, also, tripped in
his efforts. Simon grabbed at his hair, wound it around the trunk of a
small sapling, and had him!

He saw red, did Simon; a moment more, and the man was gasping as if
dying. This was more than bargained for. Horrified, Simon plunged
into the wilderness, just as he was. He was a poor boy, a hard worker
on the Kenton farm, and had not learned even to read or write; now he
thought himself a murderer; he changed his name to Butler and the
forests swallowed him.

In those days there was always hunting and exploring and
Indian-fighting to occupy the wanderer. Anybody accustomed to a rifle
could be of use in opening new country. He speedily fell in with
another wanderer, driving a pack-horse. They lived like Indians in the
Alleghany Mountains region of s