Much the greatest loss, both to Indians and whites, was caused by this unending personal warfare.  Every hunter, almost every settler, was always in imminent danger of Indian attack, and in return was ever ready, either alone or with one or two companions, to make excursions against the tribes for scalps and horses.  One or two of Simon Kenton’s experiences during this year may be mentioned less for their own sake than as examples of innumerable similar deeds that were done, and woes that were suffered, in the course of the ceaseless struggle.

    Simon Kenton’s Adventures.

Kenton was a tall, fair-haired man of wonderful strength and agility; famous as a runner and wrestler, an unerring shot, and a perfect woodsman.  Like so many of these early Indian fighters, he was not at all bloodthirsty.  He was a pleasant, friendly, and obliging companion; and it was hard to rouse him to wrath.  When once aroused, however, few were so hardy as not to quail before the terrible fury of his anger.  He was so honest and unsuspecting that he was very easily cheated by sharpers; and he died a poor man.  He was a staunch friend and follower of Boon’s. [Footnote:  See McClung’s “Sketches of Western Adventure,” pp. 86-117; the author had received from Kenton, and other pioneers, when very old, the tales of their adventures as young men.  McClung’s volume contains very valuable incidental information about the customs of life among the borderers,] and about Indian warfare; but he is a very inaccurate and untrustworthy writer; he could not even copy a printed narrative correctly (see his account of Slover’s and McKnight’s adventures), and his tales about Kenton must be accepted rather as showing the adventures incident to the life of a peculiarly daring Indian fighter than as being specifically and chronologically correct in Kenton’s individual case.  Once, in a fight outside the stockade at Boonsborough, he saved the life of his leader by shooting an Indian who was on the point of tomahawking him.  Boon was a man of few words, cold and grave, accustomed to every kind of risk and hairbreadth escape, and as little apt to praise the deeds of others as he was to mention his own; but on this occasion he broke through his usual taciturnity to express his thanks for Kenton’s help and his admiration for Kenton himself.

Kenton went with his captain on the expedition to the Scioto.  Pushing ahead of the rest, he was attracted by the sound of laughter in a canebrake.  Hiding himself, he soon saw two Indians approach, both riding on one small pony, and chatting and laughing together in great good-humor.  Aiming carefully, he brought down both at once, one dead and the other severely wounded.  As he rushed up to finish his work, his quick ears caught a rustle in the cane, and looking around he saw two more Indians aiming at him.  A rapid spring to one side on his part made both balls miss.  Other Indians came up; but, at the same time, Boon and his companions appeared, running as fast as they could while still keeping sheltered.  A brisk skirmish followed, the Indians retreated, and Kenton got the coveted scalp.  When Boon returned to the fort, Kenton stayed behind with another man and succeeded in stealing four good horses, which he brought back in triumph.