As a babe, it is said that Sequoyah had an air of infantile gravity about him which was emphasized by a contemplative light which shone in his little black eyes. As a boy he was much alone and thoughtful, having no fondness for the rude sports of others of his age. He preferred to assist his mother rather than to become proficient with the bow. It is said that he occupied his boyish leisure carving milk pails, skimmers, and other useful objects, displaying at this early age the mechanical side of his genius. He even milked the few cows with which fortune had favored his mother, and on occasions aided her in her labors in the field. This failure to scorn a woman’s pursuit and trim his sail to the unchanging breeze of Indian tradition only brought down on him a torrent of abuse from grey-beards and caused youths to rail at him like chattering birds. Young Sequoyah, however, calmly and silently bore all this disgrace and followed the dictates of his reason with unflinching gravity—a characteristic he displayed throughout his life and which some hold as the keystone of his greatness. When Sequoyah attained manhood’s estate, the Thirteen Colonies had won their independence, and Daniel Boone had led the first settlers into the blue grass country of the Cumberland. In these times the English, French, and Spanish hotly vied with each other for the control of the valuable fur trade of the “Old Southwest,” and their pack-trains threaded their way out of Cherokee country in unceasing strings, bearing the rich peltry of the wilderness. In this work of destruction of wild life the Indian had innocently come to play, by far, the major role. Nor is it altogether improbable that Sequoyah, who by now had become a hunter, aided in the extermination of the buffalo that still lingered in the valleys of the Ohio and the Tennessee. It is also likely that Sequoyah would not have escaped the degradation into which the red man was falling had not an accident befallen him while hunting which rendered him a cripple for the rest of his life. The coming of the rifle, a new and powerful sinew of war, and of the chase, brought in its train a hopeless dependence on unscrupulous traders for powder and lead. The introduction of whiskey further conspired in the ruin of a proud people. Drinking had become the pledge of cordiality on the frontier, and Sequoyah had become as much addicted to the vice as his fellow hunters. Later events proved that Sequoyah possessed an intellect elevated above the sphere in which it was placed. Had he not become a cripple, however, it is doubtful whether he would have meditated upon the decaying fortunes of his race, which meditation led him to make his remarkable invention. Thus, paradoxical as it may at first appear, misfortune often precipitates a chain of events that ultimately end in accomplishment of great import.