The first of May, 1769, Finley and Boone, with four others, whose names
were Stewart, Holden, Mooney, and Cool, and who had pledged themselves
to the undertaking, were assembled at the house of Boone, in readiness
to commence their journey. It may be imagined that all the neighbors
gathered to witness their departure. A rifle, ammunition, and a light
knapsack were all the baggage with which they dared encumber themselves.
Provisions for a few days were bestowed along with the clothing deemed
absolutely necessary for comfort upon the long route. No shame could
attach to the manhood and courage of Daniel Boone from the fact that
tears were said to have rushed to his eyes, as he kissed his wife and
children before he turned from his door for the last time for months,
and perhaps forever. The nature of the pioneer was as gentle and
affectionate as it was firm and persevering. He had power, however, to
send back the unbidden gush to its source, and forcibly to withdraw his
mind from enervating thoughts.

Beside, the natural elasticity of his temperament and the buoyancy of
his character came to his aid. The anticipation of new and strange
incidents operated to produce in the minds of the travellers, from the
commencement of the enterprise, a kind of wild pleasure.

With alert and vigorous steps they pursued a north-west course, and were
soon beyond the reach of the most distant view of their homes. This day
and night, and the succeeding one, the scenes in view were familiar; but
in the course of the four or five that followed, all vestiges of
civilized habitancy had disappeared. The route lay through a solitary
and trackless wilderness. Before them rose a line of mountains, shooting
up against the blue of the horizon, in peaks and elevations of all
forms. The slender store of food with which they had set out, was soon