Indeed it has never been ascertained what became of Finley and the rest of Boone’s party of hunters.  If Finley himself had returned to Carolina, so remarkable a person would undoubtedly have left some trace of himself in the history of his time; but no trace exists of any of the party who were left at the old camp by Boone and Stuart.  Boone and Stuart resumed their hunting, although their ammunition was running low, and they were compelled, by the now well-known danger of Indian hostilities, to seek for more secret and secure hiding-places at night than their old encampment in the ravine.

The only kind of firearms used by the backwoods hunter is the rifle.  In the use of this weapon Boone was exceedingly skillful.  The following anecdote, related by the celebrated naturalist, Audubon,[16] shows that he retained his wonderful precision of aim till a late period of his life.

“Barking off squirrels is delightful sport, and, in my opinion, requires a greater degree of accuracy than any other.  I first witnessed this manner of procuring squirrels whilst near the town of Frankfort.  The performer was the celebrated Daniel Boone.  We walked out together, and followed the rocky margins of the Kentucky River, until we reached a piece of flat land thickly covered with black walnuts, oaks, and hickories.  As the general mast was a good one that year, squirrels were seen gamboling on every tree around us.  My companion, a stout, hale, and athletic man, dressed in a homespun hunting-shirt, bare-legged and moccasined, carried a long and heavy rifle, which, as he was loading it, he said had proved efficient in all his former undertakings, and which he hoped would not fail on this occasion, as he felt proud to show me his skill.  The gun was wiped, the powder measured, the ball patched with six-hundred-thread linen, and the charge sent home with a hickory rod.  We moved not a step from the place, for the squirrels were so numerous that it was unnecessary to go after them.  Boone pointed to one of these animals which had observed us, and was crouched on a branch about fifty paces distant, and bade me mark well the spot where the ball should hit.  He raised his piece gradually, until the bead (that being the name given by the Kentuckians to the sight) of the barrel was brought to a line with the spot which he intended to hit.  The whip-like report resounded through the woods and along the hills in repeated echoes.  Judge of my surprise, when I perceived that the ball had hit the piece of the bark immediately beneath the squirrel, and shivered it into splinters, the concussion produced by which had killed the animal, and sent it whirling through the air, as if it had been blown up by the explosion of a powder magazine.  Boone kept up his firing, and before many hours had elapsed, we had procured as many squirrels as we wished; for you must know that to load a rifle requires only a moment, and that if it is wiped once after each shot, it will do duty for hours.  Since that first interview with our veteran Boone, I have seen many other individuals perform the same feat.”