Ghost Writer To Daniel Boone

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My footsteps have often been marked with blood . . . Two darling sons, and a brother, have I lost by savage hands, which have also taken from me forty valuable horses and an abundance of cattle. Many dark and sleepless nights have I been a companion for the owls, separated from the cheerful society of men, scorched by the Summer’s sun, and pinched by the Winter’s cold, an instrument ordained to settle the wilderness. But now the scene has changed: Peace crowns the sylvan glade.

One would hardly have been surprised had this wilderness scout closed with a paraphrase of

Tantae molis erat Romanam condere gentem.