Jesse Hughes was born and reared in Clarksburgh, Harrison county, Virginia, on the head-waters of the Monongahela. He was a light-built, active man, and from his constant practice became one of the best hunters and Indian fighters on the frontier. Having a perfect knowledge of all the artifices of the Indians, he was quick to devise expedients to frustrate them. Of this, the following exploit is an illustration. At a time of great danger from Indian incursions, when the citizens in the neighborhood where in a fort at Clarksburgh, Hughes one morning observed a lad very hurriedly engaged in fixing his gun. "Jim," said he, "what are you doing that for?" "I am going to shoot a turkey that I hear gobbling on the hill side," replied Jim. "I hear no turkey," said Hughes. "Listen," said Jim. "There, didn't you hear it? Listen again!" "Well," said Hughes, after hearing it repeated, "I'll go and kill it." "No you won't. It's my turkey. I heard it first," said Jim. "Well," said Hughes, "but you know I am the best marksman; and besides, I don't want the turkey, you may have it." The lad then agreed that Hughes should go and kill it for him. Hughes went out of the fort on the side that was farthest from the supposed turkey, and running along the river, went up a ravine and came in on the rear, where, as he expected, he saw an Indian, sitting on a chestnut stump, surrounded by sprouts, gobbling and watching to see if any one would come from the fort to kill the turkey. Hughes crept up and shot him dead. The successful ranger then took off the scalp, and went into the fort, where Jim was waiting for the prize. "There, now," said Jim, "you have let the turkey go. I would have killed it if I had gone." "No," said Hughes, "I didn't let it go," and he threw down the scalp. "There, take your turkey, Jim; I don't want it." The lad nearly fainted, as he thought of the death he had so narrowly escaped, owing to the keen perception and good management of Mr. Hughes.