Who shall venture to say it is not better worth preserving than many a classic?
We hold arrival Lovefeast here In Carolina land, A company of Brethren true, A little Pilgrim-Band, Called by the Lord to be of those Who through the whole world go, To bear Him witness everywhere And nought but Jesus know.
Then, we are told, the Brethren lay down to rest and "Br Gottlob hung his hammock above our heads"-- as was most fitting on this of all nights; for is not the Poet's place always just a little nearer to the stars?
The pioneers did not always travel in groups.

There were families who set off alone.

One of these now claims our attention, for there was a lad in this family whose name and deeds were to sound like a ballad of romance from out the dusty pages of history.

This family's name was Boone.
Neither Scots nor Germans can claim Daniel Boone; he was in blood a blend of English and Welsh; in character wholly English.

His grandfather George Boone was born in 1666 in the hamlet of Stoak, near Exeter in Devonshire.