vests are ripened into gold, and orchards bow their laden branches, gentle breezes waft the scent of richest flowers, and the woods are melodious with song, the free-hearted Kentuckians assemble to enjoy the pleasures of a Barbecue. No invitation is given, because every one is welcome. For a week or more, all have been busy clearing an area for the assembly. The undergrowth cut down and the low branches lopped off, the grass alone is left—a beautifully enameled pavilion. Wagons loaded with contributions from every inhabitant of the State; oxen, hams, turkeys, venison and fowls, wend their way to the spot. Flagons of every beverage, and fruits of every kind arrive too for the feast. Columns of smoke from the kindled fires rise above the trees, fifty or more cooks bustle to and fro, while waiters disperse dishes, glasses and punch-bowls, and vases crimsoned with rich wines. Everything announces a banquet, as joyous groups emerge from out the dark recesses of the woods. White-robed maidens on their palfreys, and youthful horsemen on prancing steeds advance like the brilliant cortége of a tournament.

Soon the whole arena resounds with merriment. A huge cannon gives forth a salute, and a thousand cheers mingle with its echoes. It is succeeded by orations, sometimes eloquent, and

À WOODLAND SCENE.

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always patriotic. The visitors then proceed to the tables groaning under the choice stores of Kentucky's prolific land. To toasts and speeches succeed the dance-groups in fairylike attire, fluttering in the woodland recesses, looking like the meeting of divinities of classic story, or the genii of mytholigic lore.

In the hilarity of the fête, all unhesitatingly mingle—no ball-room etiquette, artifice or pomp to alloy their pleasures. Some, ignoring the dance, show their dexterity at the rifle, or display the swiftness of their fine Virginian coursers; hunters relate their exploits, and travellers tell their tales.

At length comes the preparation for departure, when, loth to separate, the lover hastens to escort his fair one, friend seizes the arm of friend, families gather into loving groups for their homeward journey, and so ends a Kentucky Barbecue.

A rare fertility characterizes the State of Kentucky as it verges southwards toward the lands of Tennessee. Here a sweep of the so-called "Barrens” may be seen enameled with flowers, numberless, and richly dyed, over which the south wind blows, wafting their fragrance, or clothed with magnificent crops of Indian corn, from ten to fifteen feet in height, of tobacco, or of wheat waving and golden.

This luxuriance contrasts picturesquely with the northern portions of the country. These, dreary and wild, present only hills of sand, or lines of rugged cliff, amidst which here and there a torrent dashes with menacing roar, and far winding gorges, dark and deep, are suddenly disclosed by the juttings of the crag, to the dismay of the travellers. Savage wildernesses, too, terrible as Dante's solitude, are there, which, abounding in legendary interest, are renowned in Kentuckian story, and form not the least attribute of these strange romantic regions. There it was that the Indians, driven from their original territories, or hunting grounds, took up a position to wage a relentless war with their aggressors, whose strength was tested in many a fierce encounter with the swarthy Shawnees. Still to these memorable tracts does many a “sporting party” resort, where the remains of rough built tents tell of the invincible hunterwarriors, who once held them as their own. Dauntless heroes of a different race existed, however, ready to dispute the possession of every inch of Kentucky land with the tawny settlers. Harrod and Boone were distinguished among them, but even they were surpassed in bravery, by one whose matchless skill in contest, whose ruthless ferocity and indomitable daring were so remarkable, as to be regarded by the savages

A FOREST CHIEFTAIN.

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as the result of some fearful supernatural agency. The superstition acted naturally to their detriment, and increased the power of Will Smith, the Forest Chieftain, who, victor in repeated contests, they looked upon as the evil genius of their raceman instrument of vengeance sent by the Great Spirit. Their timidity in facing so terrible an enemy was the cause of an irresolution in their attacks which usually brought defeat, and facilitated, of course, the means of escape for the conqueror.

Sometimes unexpectedly on the rear of his enemy, at others ahead of them, or incomprehensibly in the very midst of the fray, it seemed indeed as though the warrior had a “charmed life.” True it was that a spell hung on the existence of this extraordinary man, who lived under the shadow of a great and inextinguishable sorrow. The bitter remembrance of this it was, which, inciting a ceaseless desire of revenge, was the secret of his restless and sanguinary career. The blight of misery, as a plague-taint, separated him from his fellow men.

Sternly and isolated he lived, for ever haunting the war path or the hunting trail of the Indians, from which their bravest leaders disappeared. Few among the border people approached or ventured to address the dreaded chieftain. A mystery surrounded him, which was the source

of perpetual conjecture, increased by the very circumstance which appeared to render it improbable it should ever be solved; for this singular being maintained a silence as unbroken as though he were dumb, through which he was commonly known as the “Silent Hunter."

This appearance of sullen reserve distanced all, and those who otherwise would have compassionated his sorrows, or perhaps even willingly have shared his singular fortunes, now denounced him as a ruthless and reckless adventurer; very different would have been their judgment, could they have penetrated the enigma of his solitary life, and known how cruelly scarred had been a heart once quickened by the kindest and liveliest emotions. Misfortune, which at one dread stroke had deprived him of the realization of happiness on earth, seemed to have deadened every human hope and sympathy, and crushed every social instinct within his heart.

The son of obscure emigrants from the Old World, his first unhappiness was to be left an orphan at an early age. The next, to be apprenticed to a farmer in North Carolina, a miserable miser, who not only subjected the poor boy to deprivations and the most arduous toils, but proved a traitor to the conditions of the indentures by which he was bound. These included the privilege of receiving a general school