Then, early in June, the adventurers broke through the interminable wastes of dim woodland, and stood on the threshold of the beautiful blue-grass region of Kentucky; a land of running waters, of groves and glades, of prairies, cane-brakes, and stretches of lofty forest.

It was teeming with game.

The shaggy-maned herds of unwieldy buffalo--the bison as they should be called--had beaten out broad roads through the forest, and had furrowed the prairies with trails along which they had travelled for countless generations.

The round-horned elk, with spreading, massive antlers, the lordliest of the deer tribe throughout the world, abounded, and like the buffalo travelled in bands not only through the woods but also across the reaches of waving grass land.

The deer were extraordinarily numerous, and so were bears, while wolves and panthers were plentiful.
Wherever there was a salt spring the country was fairly thronged with wild beasts of many kinds.