Bewildered for Three Days: As to Why Daniel Boone Never Wore His Coonskin Cap
One afternoon in 1818 an artist by the name of Chester Harding stopped by my cabin He had it in mind to paint my portrait I pulled on my worn buckskin britches just like the ones I wore when first I ventured into the dark Allegheny Mountains to explore the howling wilderness of Kentucky
It is a puzzlement sir You dress in the buckskin of a backwoodsman but where is your legendary coonskin cap It is true I’m often pictured so I replied That is merely the invention of frontier storytellers I’ve not worn any such head covering since I was a boy on the Pennsylvania frontier The poor man seemed sorely disappointed Twas a solemn debt of gratitude A promise pure and simple I replied Fact is when I carved out the Wilderness Road to lead folks through the Cumberland Gap I was wearing a wide-brimmed hat near as tall as this tale I’ll tell ye to pass the time
From the day I took my first step I had the itching foot and was apt to wander off Beware of braves in the forest Papa warned Should ye see strangers strangers Daniel stand perfectly still until they pass When Papa called out Cherokee my brothers and sisters and I all froze in our tracks like stones It was a game Sometimes fierce bands of Cherokee crossed the distant blue mountains mountains to raid scattered cabins at the edge of the wilderness Here in this part of Pennsylvania Quaker elders purchased their land fairly from the Delaware But frontier peace was ever uneasy
