184 © WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
butcher knife, until I did come to where my tomahawk had 
Yeft an impression in the wood. We now went regularly to 
work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three hacks as 
plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr. 
and the other gentlemen were astonished, and, I must 
allow, I was as much surprised as pleased myself. I made 
affidavit of this remarkable occurrence in presence of these 
gentlemen. Mr. gained his cause. I left Green 
River forever, and came to where we now are; and, sir, I 
wish you a good night.” 
There are a thousand such characteristic anecdotes of 
Daniel Boone that might be given, but none of them would 
be so interesting in themselves or possess such attraction as 
this, coming from the lips of such a narrator—for Boone was 
never more remarkable for the development of the curious 
instincts of wood-craft, than was Audubon himself—who of 
all men was best qualified to appreciate such phenomena in 
another. 
Not long after his removal to Missouri, Boone calmly laid 
down and died in 1818, and what is not the least extraordi- 
nary fact connected with his history, died poor! With all the 
opportunities his life had afforded him from the beginning, of 
amassing enormous wealth, by dealing in lands, the settle- 
ment of which he pioneered, he preferred a clear conscience 
and a stainless name, and only retained to the last what was 
his original inheritance, his rifle! Simple and generous hero 
—the turf of that wild distant grave must lie lightly on that 
broad and gentle bosom! 
Audubon, too, as we know, is lately dead. But let us, be 
fore we pass to other themes, linger to look upon him once 
more at the moment, and in the scene of what he considered 
the greatest triumph of his long life—his discovery of the Bird 
of Washington... He says— 
It was in the month of February, 1814, that I obtained 
the first sight of this noble bird, and never shall I forget the 
