When not on the track of the savage foe, he was in the settlement, with his keen eye and ear ever alert for signs of the enemy.

To the superstitious Indians he was a shadow; a spirit of the border, which breathed menace from the dark forests.

To the settlers he was the right arm of defense, a fitting leader for those few implacable and unerring frontiersmen who made the settlement of the West a possibility.
And if this story of one of his relentless pursuits shows the man as he truly was, loved by pioneers, respected and feared by redmen, and hated by renegades; if it softens a little the ruthless name history accords him, the writer will have been well repaid.
Z.G.
The Spirit of the Border.