Simon Kenton was a born backwoodsman. He first saw the light of day in a little cabin on the borders of Virginia. His boyhood was that common to frontier children--a little schooling, a good deal of hard work, and a fair admixture of adventure. When only sixteen years old he was attracted by the charms of a young girl in the settlement. This aroused the resentment of a youth several years older than Kenton, who imagined that he had engaged the affections of the backwoods maiden, although she would not admit as much. As Kenton declined to abandon his suit, the rivals determined to settle the matter by one of the fist fights that were not uncommon incidents of border life. The encounter took place in the presence of the assembled settlers, as was usual. Kenton made a plucky stand, but in the end was beaten by the man, who had immeasurably the advantage of him in physical development. He accepted his defeat cheerfully but a year later, when he had grown into a muscular giant of six feet, he challenged his former antagonist to try conclusions once more. The other was a powerful man and readily accepted the cartel. These backwoods fights were often terrible affairs. Everything short of the use of weapons was permissible, and the participants were frequently seriously injured. In this instance, the former victor was fired by intense hatred for Kenton, who was determined on this occasion to win. The conflict which ensued was terrifically fierce. At first the younger man got the worst of it and was severely hurt, but his courage continued unabated. He renewed the struggle, and in the end so beat his antagonist that he lay unconscious. Kenton looked down at the prostrate form in horror, fully believing it to be that of a dead man. Then he turned and fled with all the speed possible, stopping only to snatch up his rifle and ammunition from the stump upon which they lay. So convinced was he that the sheriff with a posse would shortly be in pursuit of him that he continued his flight with little cessation for two days. On the third day Kenton, still apprehensive and downcast, was traversing the forest in an unsettled part of the country when his eye was suddenly gladdened by the sight of a man upon the trail ahead of him. The stranger proved to be a wanderer named Johnson, as homeless and as careless of his destination as was Kenton. Each man was glad of the prospect of company and after a brief comparison of notes they agreed to become partners, as they say in the West. These two travelled in company for some weeks and until they reached a settlement on the Monongahela, where Kenton decided to stop. This decision was prompted by learning that two young men at the place, named Strader and Yager, contemplated a journey into Kentucky and were willing that he should join them. The three set out shortly afterwards and for a year or more they lived in the wilderness, hunting and trapping, and selling their peltries to traders at Fort Pitt.