Chapter II: Part 2

I don't claim to be timorous under ordinary circumstances, and am ready to stand my chances against Indians or bears; but when it comes to snakes, I must say that there is a bit of cowardice in me, for a fellow can't guard himself against such enemies, and it seems to me that they, with the savages, make up the disagreeable features in all the pictures that were drawn for us of our new home.

CAMPUS MARTIUS

Now listen to this description which Parson Cutler gave us of Campus Martius, and I have since come to know that he did not set forth its characteristics any too strongly.

It is a kind of house, or castle, if you please, instead of a regular fort, made in the form of a hollow square, of which the sides measure one hundred and eighty feet, and is surrounded by a heavy line of palisades,--meaning a high log fence,--as protection against, the Indians.

This building contains seventy-two rooms, each eighteen feet square or more, and General Putnam had told the Parson that in case of necessity nine hundred people could live within its walls.

Surely it seems like a city of itself, when one attempts to go from end to end inside the broad passages, and sees the doors leading to rooms in which an entire family might contrive to live with more or less comfort.

Parson Cutler was twenty-nine days driving from Ipswich to Marietta in his sulky, so he told us; but do not understand that such a journey may always be made in so short a time. He took advantage of the best season of the year in which to make the trip, and returned before the snow came; consequently, and because of traveling without very much baggage, and with a stout horse to draw his light sulky, he could make many more miles in a day than could such wagons as ours.

INDEPENDENCE DAY

He told us of the Fourth of July celebration, which was held in Marietta on that first Independence Day after the settlers arrived there. They set about making a feast, and verily it must have been one. There were venison barbecues,--meaning deer roasted whole,--buffalo steaks broiled over the glowing coals, bear meat cooked in every manner that could be devised with the few cooking implements our people possessed, small pigs roasted whole, and, as the greatest delicacy of all, an enormous pike, more than six feet long, said to be the largest ever caught in the Ohio River.

The feast was kept up until twelve o'clock at night, and then the tired merrymakers went to their cabins and slept until late in the forenoon, as the parson said, in such a tone as if he believed they were wasting their time by thus remaining in bed after the sun had risen.

Then came, according to Parson Cutler's story, at a later date, the opening of the first court in the territory, and it must have been a wondrous spectacle. The sheriff, who, as you know, is Colonel Ebenezer Sproat, holding a drawn sword in his hand, marched with a military escort, ahead of the governor, the judges, the secretary, and others, to Campus Martius, where the court was held.

There are Indians in plenty about Marietta, and Parson Cutler said that when these savages saw Colonel Sproat, who as you know is an unusually tall man, they at once gave him the name of Hetuck, or Big Buckeye, which was the same as if they had called him one of the huge trees of the forest.

MASTER DEVOLL'S HOUSE

Nor was the growth of our town of Marietta the only thing concerning which the good man told us, for he gladdened Mistress Devoll's heart by describing to her the house her husband was building, which was to be forty feet long by eighteen feet wide, and the height of two stories.

Best of all, there was to be a brick chimney, perhaps more than one, as soon as a kiln had been made and the bricks burned. It was to be by far the largest building, with the exception of Campus Martius, in the town.

THE INDIAN MOUNDS

Parson Cutler told us during that night, when we sat around him at Reading, about queer-shaped mounds of earth in various forms, which had evidently been thrown up many hundred years before, perhaps by the Indians, perhaps by some race of people regarding whom we know nothing; but certain it is there were very many about Marietta. In fact, Campus Martius was built on one of these mounds.

These embankments, as they might really be called, are of various shapes, some like serpents, many, many hundred feet long and I can't say how many feet high, and of such huge proportions that they may be seen from a long distance. There is one, we were told, shaped something after the fashion of an elephant; others are formed in circles, and still others appear to have been made for fortifications.

When we went to bed that night Ben Cushing and I talked until well past midnight concerning what these things might have been, and he announced that it was his intention to dig beneath them, believing there he would find much in the way of treasure; but when he saw the enormous embankments, he soon realized that neither one man nor twenty could make much headway digging beneath them.

I heard General Putnam say it was his belief these mounds had something to do with the religious ceremonies of those who had built them; that they had a certain significance in the worship of the Great Spirit; but as for there being treasure beneath them, he laughed at the idea.

If I should set down all Parson Cutler told us on that night concerning the country to which we were going, I might never get further in my story, for the good man talked long and fast, describing so many things of interest, such as the trapping of turkeys, the hunting of bears, and the different methods of killing deer, that my hair would be gray before I could write it all out fairly.

Therefore, instead of attempting to repeat his stories, I will go on with my tale of how we journeyed from Massachusetts into the Ohio country.

AT HARRISBURG

It was near the close of October when we arrived at the Susquehanna River, at a settlement called Harrisburg, and a very slovenly looking town it was, as I thought, for those who built it, only two years before, had thus far not taken the trouble to uproot the stumps of trees which still stood in the roadways and gave the entire place a wild, neglected appearance.

I was told that the settlement had formerly been called Louisburg, and the only reason I can think of for the change of name is that there can be found a ferry in charge of a man named Harris, and before any houses were built near by it was known as Harris's Ferry.

We remained at this place all night, the women and children going into a log tavern to sleep, while we men and boys made our beds in the wagons, or on the hay in the stable, as best pleased us.

Because of not caring to spend so much money as would be necessary to buy a supper for all our company, only the women and small children partook of the tavern fare, the older girls, the men, and we boys eating our meals in the tavern yard, after having cooked them in the tavern kitchen.

The next day's journey was only thirteen miles, and then we arrived at Carlisle, which was a military station during our war for independence, and where were yet to be found barracks made of bricks, like regular houses. There were two or three shops, and a number of good dwellings, better than one would expect to find even in a town that had been settled so long.

Because we had not been fed overabundantly since leaving that farmhouse where we feasted on buckwheat cakes, Master Rouse decided that we should all have dinner at the tavern, and a bountiful meal it was, although not quite so satisfactory to me as I could have wished, because of the fact that just then Isaac Barker took it into his head to play what he considered a funny trick.

ISAAC BARKER'S SPORT

When a huge platter of meat was being brought on the table, and we were all looking at it with most pleasant anticipations, for it appeared to have been cooked to a turn, Isaac seized the dish in both hands, ran out of the room as if intending to eat it all himself, and the older girls followed him, racing around and around the building with shouts of mirth, while the tavern keeper and his wife looked on in amazement, until Isaac tired of running.

Then he replaced the meat on the table; but by this time it had grown cold, and instead of having hot venison steak, we were forced to eat lukewarm meat, and it is not needed that I should say anything concerning the disagreeable flavor of deer flesh when it has been kept too long from the fire.

There are times when one really wearies of Isaac's sport, and, as Ben Cushing said when we drove away from Carlisle, a little fun now and then is relished by the saddest of men; but when one keeps it up from morning until night, and again from night until morning, it grows wearisome.

UNCLE DANIEL CARTER

When we left Carlisle it was to journey to a settlement called Big Springs, where, much to our surprise and delight, we came upon Uncle Daniel Carter with his three yoke of oxen hitched to a Conestoga wagon, and having as a load all Uncle Daniel's household goods as well as his family.

Uncle Daniel was an old acquaintance of ours, for he lived but a few miles from Mattapoisett and had started for Ohio some two weeks before we left home.

There had been no expectation in our minds that we should meet him on the journey, for it was believed that, moving as slowly as he must with his ox team, he, if not his wife, would grow weary of attempting to gain the Ohio country, and turn off at some inviting-looking point long before having arrived thus far in Pennsylvania.

But the old man was not made of such stuff; he had set out to join Rufus Putnam's company at Marietta, and declared that he would continue on if it took a year to make the trip.

What a meeting that was with the old man and his family! It was like coming upon Mattapoisett suddenly. I had never before realized how much affection one may unwittingly have for his neighbors, until we saw Uncle Daniel outside the log hut where he had stopped for the night, watching us with an odd expression on his face as if doubting whether we should recognize him.

UNCLE DANIEL JOINS OUR COMPANY

Mistress Carter insisted that she and her two daughters prepare the evening meal for all our company, and it seemed much as if we were doing her the greatest favor, when we consented joyfully to share what we had every reason to believe was a goodly portion of Uncle Daniel's scanty store of food.

When the meal was ended, Isaac and Ben Cushing built a lively fire outside the hut, for the night was chilly, and with the children wrapped in their warmest garments, all of us sat, or stretched out at full length, around the cheering blaze, listening to Uncle Daniel's story of his journey, or telling him of that which had happened to us since we left home.

Before we crawled into the wagons that night it was decided, and without any controversy, that Uncle Daniel should join our company, the only question being as to whether the horses would not travel so much faster than his oxen that we could not well keep together.

The old man put an end to any speculation of that kind, however, by declaring that when night came we should find him not far behind us, and he laid plans for the journey of future days, by saying that we were to give no heed whatsoever to him in the morning; he would feed his cattle and be off, most-like before break of day.

"I'll be on hand when it's time for supper, an' don't make any mistake about that part of it," he said cheerily. "I'm willin' to agree that my creeters can't walk as fast as your horses; but they can keep it up a good while longer, an' you'll find it's the slow an' steady that comes out ahead in the long run. So look for your Uncle Daniel before sunset, an' if he fails to show up, then you can set it down as a fact that his wagon has gone to smash, or the oxen have turned tail for Massachusetts."

HARD TRAVELING

Next morning Ben Cushing would have it that we had come upon bad luck in meeting Uncle Daniel, for at daybreak the rain came down in torrents, and speedily the roads, which were none of the best even in dry weather, became like quagmires. Before we were well on our way the wheels of the heavy wagons sank deep in the mud; the women were forced to remain under the covers or withstand the pelting of the rain, and we men, who walked alongside in order to help the horses with their loads, were speedily drenched to the skin.

Mistress Devoll would have insisted that we turn back and remain at the log shanty until the rain ceased; but both Captain Haskell and Master Rouse put an end to any such proposition by saying that now had come the season when we might rightly expect storms, and if we were to delay our journey save at such times as the weather was fair, winter would overtake us among the mountains where we might find it impossible either to go ahead or to retreat.

Therefore we plodded on, and instead of overtaking Uncle Daniel, as Ben Cushing had predicted we should, before noon, we saw nothing of him until night came. Then there was no bad luck in having a cheery blaze in the fireplace of a log tavern, and every arrangement possible made for our comfort, to all of which the old man had attended before looking after his own comfort.

MUD AND WATER

It seemed to me as if the rain fell incessantly, and you can fancy what the roads were after eight and forty hours had elapsed.

In Massachusetts we would have said that they were impassable at the best, and now they had been converted into veritable swamps by the downpour of water, or filled in places with blocks of sandstone over which the wagons could not cross save we all put our shoulders to the hinder part helping the horses along, unless we stopped to clear away the obstacles.

Again the ascents were so steep that the horses from both wagons must be hitched to one in order to get it up the hill, and when we came to the other side it was necessary to put locked chains on the wheels, and, in addition, fasten large logs or tree tops to the back of the vehicles that they might drag behind and thus prevent us from going ahead too swiftly.

And all this was done in a heavy downpour of rain, when the women and girls must of necessity remain under cover, except at such times as it was absolutely necessary for them to alight in order to lessen the load.

As if to add to our discomfort, two of the animals began to show signs of faltering, and Ben Cushing told me confidentially one night when we were halted in the foothills, with no shelter save the body of the wagon, and doing our utmost to keep a fire burning amid the rain, that it was his belief we should not succeed in gaining the river before the poor beasts were entirely worn out.

The way lay over a succession of sharp rises and yet sharper descents, with the road in places falling off so much to one side that we were obliged to fasten ropes to the tops of the wagons, and all of us men lay hold, to prevent them from oversetting.

Such work as this might be necessary more than once in half a mile, we all the while wading knee-deep in the mire, and at times finding it difficult to raise our feet because of the mud.

A STORM OF SNOW

Then came the time when the rain changed to snow, and you can well fancy that if the road was well-nigh impassable before, it was soon in such a condition that one might say it would be impossible to go farther.

Even the children were forced to get out and walk again and again, and I have seen Mistress Devoll and Mistress Rouse stop many a time to pick up their shoes which had been pulled from their feet by the clinging mud.

Fancy such traveling while the snow came down like feathers, weighting every branch of the trees and every bush until they stood far out over the narrow roadway, shedding their frosty burdens upon the passer-by!

It seemed to me that I could see the horses grow weaker with each mile we advanced, and when night came, after we had traveled no more than six or eight miles at the expense of the most severe labor, it was as much as we could do to keep them on their feet until the harness was removed.

This was the time when Uncle Daniel had the advantage of us, for his oxen plowed their way through the mire, giving apparently no more heed to the weight of the wagon than if it had been a child's toy cart, and again and again did the old man unyoke the patient beasts in order to bring them back, at times more than half a mile over a hard road, to help one or the other of our wagons out of the mud, when, but for his assistance, they might have stayed there until the crack of doom, so deeply were the wheels embedded.

I can look back upon many days we spent while journeying from Massachusetts to the Ohio country with the greatest pleasure; but never do I think of the time passed among the foothills, when the weather was so bitter and the way so hard, without real mental distress, for that journey, during at least eight days, was more like some horrible nightmare than a reality.

ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS

If I were to make any attempt at describing our passage across the Blue Mountains, the Middle and the Tuscarora Mountains, it would simply be to repeat what I have already set down. Never once did we find a bit of the road where there was easy traveling, and it seemed to me that either the rain or the snow fell incessantly, until, wearied to the verge of exhaustion by day, we were forced to remain half frozen and wet to the skin from night until morning.

The women and children, if we camped at night where there were no houses in which to take shelter, slept in the wagons, while the men and boys made shift as best they might beneath the carts, getting such warmth as could be had under the few blankets at their disposal and the fires built close by, which were not of much avail because we could find no dry fuel with which to feed them.

Then came a day which I remember more vividly than any other of all that long journey, when we descended the last of the Tuscarora Range, and came to a fruitful valley, which we afterward learned was called Ahwick, where was a small settlement, while here and there, when we were on the higher land, could be seen farms which one might almost say were ready for planting, despite the snow that yet lay deep among the hills.

Master Rouse's wagon was leading the way and Uncle Daniel with his plodding oxen brought up the rear. It was Saturday night; we expected to remain at least two days, at the first place where we might sleep in comfort, and it was necessary we find housing for all, which might not be possible at the small log tavern we had heard would be found on the road a short distance away.

A FRIENDLY DUNKARD

Therefore our party came to a halt at the first promising-looking house, and Master Rouse set about learning what we might expect in the way of entertainment.

The farm was owned by a German named Christian Hiples, who was of that religious persuasion known as Dunkard, and a right friendly gentleman he proved to be.

It really appeared to give him pain because he could not take all our company in and give us the comforts of home; but it seemed to me that he was doing even more than his share when he agreed that Master Rouse and the members of his party should remain there, while the others of us continued on to the tavern.

I regretted sorely that it was not my good fortune to be one of Master Hiples's guests, for I had heard much concerning these people who call themselves Dunkards, during our traveling through the state, and was most eager to see them at home.

Captain Haskell had told me that the Dunkards were Baptists who had been driven from Germany early in the eighteenth century, when they took refuge in Pennsylvania. So far as I could find out, their religion consists in condemning warfare, and setting their faces against suits at law. They have a peculiar belief regarding baptism, which Captain Haskell said has to do with triple immersion. They wash each others' feet before the Lord's Supper, and give to all members of their faith what is called the kiss of charity. It is in their eyes almost the same as a sin to dress other than plainly and cleanly, and from what I saw of Master Hiples's house during the short time we halted in front of it, I came to believe that cleanliness of home and its surroundings is one of the articles of their belief, for I had not seen so pleasing a place since we came out of Massachusetts.

When Master Rouse's family were thus comfortably housed, Mistress Devoll's team, with Uncle Daniel's oxen plodding patiently behind, continued on to a log tavern a short distance away, and the contrast between this place and that where Master Rouse's people were staying was so great that for the first time since leaving Mattapoisett, I was nearly homesick.

MASTER HIPLES'S KINDNESS

We had comfortable quarters, if one judges comfort by being sheltered from the rain and having sufficient heat; but it was far from pleasant at the inn, and as soon as the horses had been properly cared for, I, despite the fact that my legs were weary with long traveling, ran back down the road to gaze with envy on Master Rouse and his family.

The old German was a kindly-faced man, with a long, white beard extending to his waist, and a voice as mild and gentle as any woman's. He had five or six grown daughters, and when I got back to the farm these young women were doing all they might for the comfort of the guests, without hope or expectation of being paid for the labor.

There was, just outside the house, a huge brick oven in the open air, and these young women, aided by their father, were already heating it as if for a cooking bee. Sally Devoll told me it was their intention to bake a large quantity of bread to be given to us when we set off once more on our journey.

Therefore I came to have a friendly liking for these Dunkards, and before we left Ahwick Valley I was fully persuaded they were what might truthfully be called the salt of the earth.

A SURLY LANDLORD

When I got back to the log tavern there was considerable going on in the way of excitement. The landlord, who had but one eye, having lost the other, so we heard, during a fight when he was a younger man, was anything but gentle in manners, and his appearance was such that one felt as if the lightest word would provoke harsh treatment.

Now it so chanced that the racks in his stable had been built by nailing slats up and down at the end of the stalls, and into the places thus formed the hay was thrown from the loft.

Isaac Barker and Ben Cushing were both very careful to see that their teams were well fed, and more particularly was it necessary now since we had with us two horses that were ailing.

When the animals were put into the stalls, after having been groomed and their coats dried, Isaac found that while the innkeeper intended to charge us for a certain amount of hay, the slats at the end of the stalls were placed so closely together that the poor beasts could not get a single wisp, struggle as they might.

Without delay he went to the landlord and told him that some different arrangement must be made in regard to the racks, if our company was expected to pay for hay.

The innkeeper declared that he would conduct his tavern as best pleased him; the hayracks had been built by him, and built to suit him, therefore they would remain as they were. If our horses and oxen were stabled there, then would we pay so much money for each head on account of hay, whether they got it or not, the surly man claiming it was no fault of his if the animals were unable to get what was before them.

You can well fancy that Isaac's temper was aroused by this injustice, and straightway he told the man what he thought of such dealing, claiming that unless the landlord himself was willing to remedy matters at once, he would take the affair into his own hands.

ISAAC FLOGS THE LANDLORD

The landlord threatened, so Uncle Daniel said, to punish severely whoever dared to damage his property, and I arrived just at the time when Isaac, with a heavy ax, was breaking out every other slat in the racks, thereby giving the beasts ample opportunity to feed, the innkeeper meanwhile standing outside as if it was his purpose to lay hands on Isaac the moment he left the stable.

As we afterwards learned, the man had been considered, in his younger days, a skillful fighter, and most likely believed there were few who could stand against him, so he had no doubt about his ability to punish Isaac.

I had never heard that Isaac was noted for skill with his fists, and believed he was likely to suffer severely, if the landlord should attack him. I therefore entreated Uncle Daniel to stand by with me in order to lend assistance, for I was not minded that one of our company come to grief at that place.

Uncle Daniel grimly said that Isaac Barker could take care of himself, and that he was not fond of interfering, unless it was absolutely necessary in order to save life.

Therefore, instead of appearing concerned, Uncle Daniel quietly took up his station near the door of the stable, where he stood whittling a bit of pine stick, while the innkeeper raged furiously, and Isaac continued to break out the slats until he had completed the task.

Then he came out of the last stall where he had been working, threw the ax on the floor without very much regard as to how it might fall, and began in a businesslike way to roll up his sleeves, keeping an eye meanwhile on the movements of the landlord.

The two came together while I was waiting to see how they might begin the battle, and in a twinkling, as it seemed to me, both were rolling here and there about the stable floor, but in such a manner that one with half an eye could see Isaac was by no means getting the worst of it.

A MUCH NEEDED LESSON

As a matter of fact he flogged that miserly innkeeper severely, never letting up until the fellow cried that he had had enough; then Isaac said that he counted to be back that way in the spring, and if the slats in the hayracks had been replaced, he would give him another flogging compared with which this one would seem like child's play.

I confess that I was frightened even after Isaac had acquitted himself in such a manly fashion, for I believed the landlord would contrive in some way to make the remainder of our party suffer for what had been done; but, strange as it may seem, he was as mild as one could desire, and instead of moving about in a surly fashion, finding fault with everything, as he had done when we first arrived, the fellow seemed striving earnestly to do all he might for our welfare, whereupon Uncle Daniel grimly observed that "all he needed in order to make him a decent kind of a man was a sound flogging every morning."

I would not recommend this method of insuring good treatment from landlords in general; but I must say I was sorry Isaac had not been sufficiently provoked some time before, that he might have tried the same treatment upon some of those innkeepers who had been so surly to us. In fact we met more than one so-called landlord during our journey across the state of Pennsylvania, by the side of whom one of Uncle Daniel's oxen would have appeared gentlemanly.

On Sunday, all of us, even including Isaac Barker, went to meeting with Master Hiples's family, and not only were repaid by hearing a goodly discourse, but received an invitation to take supper with the good Dunkard's family.

A TIME OF REST

The meal was an enjoyable one, although I fear, as I told Ben Cushing, that he and I came very near disgracing, not only ourselves, but all our companions, by eating more than was seemly.

It was the most pleasant Sunday we had spent since leaving Mattapoisett, and a day that seemed more fitting for goodly thoughts than any other I could remember. As Uncle Daniel said when we stretched ourselves out to sleep on the floor of the stable, the two rooms in the tavern having been given up to the women and children, it had been a very profitable time.

Monday also was a profitable day, for then Master Hiples's daughters worked with a will, making bread in such quantities that one might have thought they counted on provisioning an army, and all our women folks did what they could to assist, while we boys and men cut and lugged fuel, so that we might not draw too heavily upon the old German's store of wood.

That night, when it was known we were to set off next day, Master Hiples laid out a large supply of vegetables for all our company, and this was a gift, in addition to the bread, since he refused to take payment therefor, asking only as much in the way of money as would suffice to pay for the grain and the hay eaten by Master Rouse's horses.

Thanks to this friendly German, we were well supplied with food when we left Ahwick Valley, Tuesday morning, and flattered ourselves with the belief that the greater portion of the hardships were passed, for the ailing horses seemed to be much improved, and traveled with no little spirit, thus causing us to believe they were rapidly recovering from their sickness.

During three days we journeyed over roads that were far from good, save by comparison with those we found while crossing the mountains, and then we came to the town of Bedford. We had in the meanwhile crossed Sideling Hill, and forded some of the main branches of the Juniata, not without considerable difficulty and the assistance of Uncle Daniel's oxen, for the fords were deep, and in some cases the bed of the river so soft that had a wagon remained still ever so short a time, it would surely have been mired.

PACK TRAINS

During the last three days we had seen evidences that in this wild country there was being carried on business of various kinds, for after leaving Ahwick Valley we met here and there on the road long lines of pack horses, loaded with furs and ginsing, a root somewhat like a potato, except that it has branches or roots shooting out from the upper part, and is sent by our merchants to China, where it is considered very valuable as a medicine. There were other pack horses loaded with salt, or bales of dry goods and groceries, which were being carried to the traders of Pittsburgh.

These pack trains, as Uncle Daniel called them, were very interesting. The foremost horse wore bells, and it was he, rather than the driver, who had charge of the beasts, and who did the guiding, for he went on as intelligently as could a human being, the remainder of the train, usually nine or ten horses, following him obediently.

Because there were no roads across the state of Pennsylvania from Carlisle to Pittsburgh over which heavily loaded wagons could pass, we were told that all the traffic was carried on by pack horses, and it was considered that one man could care for no more than ten animals.

One night, when we were told by the landlord of a small tavern about these pack trains, Uncle Daniel said that we had best put aside from our minds all thought of buying anything at Pittsburgh, for if all the goods were carried there on horseback, then the charges must be so heavy that ordinary people could not afford to pay that which the merchants would demand.

A NIGHT ADVENTURE

On the day of leaving Bedford we had our most disagreeable adventure. About four miles beyond that town the road divided, one trail leading directly to Pittsburgh, and the other to Sumrill's Ferry on the Youghiogheny River, which last was the path we must take, because it was the place where the _Mayflower_ had been built, and there we proposed to take boat for Marietta in order to avoid the wearisome traveling on foot.

The women and children had been walking for some time, owing to the miry road, and on coming to this place they decided to remain there awhile in order to rest. It so chanced that Isaac Barker took it into his head to loiter with them, leaving Captain Haskell to drive his team.

Master Rouse also stayed behind, for no reason that any one could give; thus we went on without them, never doubting but that within an hour they would overtake us, for according to the rate we had been traveling, those who were on foot could speedily come up with our jaded horses who were having all they could do to pull the wagons.

Uncle Daniel had on this day, as during the last two or three days, outstripped us with his slowly moving oxen, because they continued on steadily, being so strong that the wagon, which was loaded as heavily as either of ours, was not mired.

The hours passed, and we still remained in advance, with no sign of the coming of the women and children, yet nothing strange was thought of it at the time, and when I spoke of the matter to Ben Cushing as if it might be serious, he laughed at me, declaring that a foot passenger could make his way without difficulty.

About half an hour before sunset we came to a small log hut which was called an inn by the man who owned it. It had but one room, which served alike as kitchen, barroom and a place in which to sleep; but there was shelter for the tired beasts in the stable, and a huge fireplace wherein we might pile fuel to our heart's content. We were therefore not disposed to find fault.

We toasted ourselves well before the fire, wondering meanwhile how soon we might be able to satisfy our hunger; for we could not have supper until the women came to cook it, this inn being only a housing place.

FEARS ABOUT THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN

One hour passed, and even Captain Haskell began to show signs of anxiety. Another sixty minutes went by without bringing our companions; but after a third hour, Captain Haskell declared that some misadventure must have befallen them, and set off over the road we had just traveled, refusing to allow any of us to accompany him.

It was nearly midnight before the captain and the other members of our party arrived. The poor children could hardly drag one foot after the other, and the women looked as if nothing save the fear of remaining in the open air during the hours of darkness had forced them to continue the journey.

While Ben Cushing and I were cooking supper, for the girls and the women were far too weary to do any work at the time, we learned that the party had halted at the dividing of the ways much longer than they realized, and it was nearly nightfall before the journey was continued.

Then, when the sun had set, it was impossible for them to make their way along the faintly outlined road, save by clutching the bushes on either side, and even then they strayed again and again into the thicket, until, what with this additional traveling and the exertion of plowing their way through the mire, all save Isaac Barker were plunged into a most gloomy, disagreeable frame of mind.

Mistress Devoll declared that but for him who made sport when the difficulties were the worst, and sang loudly when the others of the company were too thoroughly exhausted even to speak, they could not have continued.

One can well fancy how welcome to them was the fire in the log tavern. The smaller children stretched themselves out at full length on the puncheon floor in front of the blaze, while their mothers and sisters gave no heed to anything save the delicious sensation of being able to rest, enjoying to the utmost, I dare say, the feeling of security which came to them on arriving at that inn.

DESCENDING THE MOUNTAINS

Despite the fact that none of our company had had sufficient sleep, we continued our journey as soon after daybreak as we could, and it was during this day that our hearts were cheered by what might seem to some people a foolish thing.

On either side of the road could be seen the little green leaves and bright scarlet berries of the partridge vine, or checkerberry plant, such as we all had seen each year roundabout Mattapoisett, and it had such a homelike appearance that it was as if we had suddenly come upon a friend. The small children loitered behind the wagons to pick the tiny red berries, while the girls chewed the aromatic leaves, and more than one of the men followed their example, for it was like being in Massachusetts again after a long disagreeable dream.

The log inn at which we had slept the night previous was evidently built on what is generally called the "height of the land," for now we were descending the Allegheny Mountains, cheered by the fact that the streams of water from the springs ran with us along our road, telling that we had come to where the greater portion of the remainder of the journey would be on descending ground. These streams were to accompany us on our way now, instead of running in the opposite direction as during all the time we had been among the foothills.

AT THE FOOT OF THE HILLS

When we had come to the base of the mountains we found ourselves on a broad, level range, which was called "The Glades." Captain Haskell said it had very much the appearance of a prairie. If this be true, which I have no reason to doubt, then I have no desire to see a prairie; for The Glades was a most forlorn place, being but sparsely dotted with trees and covered with a coarse grass, at which even the oxen turned up their noses.

Then, having slept in the open two nights, we came to Laurel Ridge, which bounds the western side of The Glades, and must have been so named because of the laurel which grows in such profusion on the rocky cliffs.

Now we were forced to climb once more over a road quite as rough as any we had come upon, and again all the women and the children were forced to walk, much to their discomfort, for on this ridge the snow had fallen in large quantities. Every one was soon wet to the knees, and plodding through the snow and mud rendered walking quite as difficult as any we had yet experienced.

On this day the women and children, remembering what had occurred just after we left Bedford, went on ahead of the wagons. When the afternoon was about half spent they came upon a stream of water at the western foot of the ridge, which was far too deep for them to ford, therefore they were obliged to wait until we came up.

Luckily for them, however, there was a small log house near by the road in which dwelt a motherly-looking Irish woman, and with her our people visited, much to their pleasure and comfort, until we arrived.

Because of the difficulties in the way, the wagons did not come to the stream until nearly nightfall; but then the passage was quickly made, and we hurried on two miles farther, to where was an inn, said to be as good as any other to be found between Sumrill's Ferry and Carlisle.

NEARING THE END OF THE JOURNEY

Next day we crossed Chestnut Ridge, the last of the hills, and so named because of the wondrous growth of chestnut trees which just then were yielding up their fruit to the nipping frost. Our children and girls filled their pockets with the nuts, while more than once all three of the wagons were halted that we might lay in a store of what would, on a pinch, serve as food.

We had climbed mountain after mountain, crossed ridge after ridge, until it seemed as if all the earth was a succession of ascents and descents; we had waded knee-deep through mire or snow, and literally fought our way along all that weary distance from Mattapoisett to the Youghiogheny River, until we had come to Sumrill's Ferry, where it was believed we could make arrangements for a more comfortable continuation of the long journey.

Well it was that we arrived at this time, which was near the last of November, with winter close at hand, for the two horses which had been ailing now seemingly grew worse, and during the eight and forty hours before our arrival at the ferry, they were hardly more than able to keep their feet, let alone doing any portion of the pulling.

I believe that a few days more of traveling would have killed them, and indeed they were hardly more than dead beasts when we took them out of the harness at the ferry, congratulating ourselves upon having come thus far on our journey without mishap.

AT SUMRILL'S FERRY

Here we learned of those people who went out from Danvers and Hartford. We saw where they built the _Mayflower_, and, in fact, we lodged at the very inn where some of them had lived while making ready for the journey down the river.

Sumrill's Ferry is not a large settlement, but a thriving one. Here were boat builders, ready to make any kind of craft needed.

To hear them talk of what they believed must have been our experiences during the journey, one would have said they looked upon us as more than foolish to have ventured so much in order to make a settlement in the wild Ohio country.

Before we had been at this settlement an hour, Uncle Daniel came upon Benjamin Slocomb and his family, who had left Danvers nearly four weeks before we started from Mattapoisett. Master Slocomb had waited at the ferry nine days until a boat could be finished in a manner to please him, and was on the point of setting off when Uncle Daniel saw him.

PARTING WITH UNCLE DANIEL

Master Slocomb's craft was not so well loaded but that he could, without inconvenience, take on board Uncle Daniel's wagon with all its belongings, except the oxen, so he urged the old man to finish the journey with him, the two having been friends for many a long year. The result was that Uncle Daniel parted company with us before nightfall, leaving his oxen to our care, but taking everything else he owned.

"I'll have a farm picked out for you folks, an' made ready to plow," the old man cried cheerily, as Master Slocomb's clumsy craft was poled out into the current. All our company stood on the river's bank watching the departure, and really sorry to part with our fellow traveler, who had always shown himself willing to lend a hand when it was needed, without regard to the labor.

We called after him until he was beyond earshot, Isaac Barker cracking jokes as usual, and then we set about making arrangements for our own journey down the river.

OUR FLATBOAT

There were several boats already built and for sale, and Master Rouse and Captain Haskell decided upon one which was not yet finished, so far as the accommodations for passengers were concerned, since it had no roof. It was by far the best craft, to my thinking, of all we saw there.

It was about forty feet long and twelve feet wide, of ample size and depth to carry all our wagons, as well as our people, to say nothing of as much space as would be required in which to house not only our horses, but Uncle Daniel's oxen.

It was not our purpose to take the beasts in the boat at that time, but rather to send them across the land to a settlement called Buffalo, at the mouth of Buffalo Creek, fifty-three miles from the ferry, whereas the distance was considerably more than a hundred miles by the waterway.

This was to be done not simply because we wanted to avoid the labor of caring for them, but because the Youghiogheny River was so shallow at that season of the year that a boat drawing more than eighteen or twenty inches of water could not float upon it.

The craft which Captain Haskell and Master Rouse had bought would draw, perhaps, seventeen inches with all our belongings, save the horses and oxen, on board, therefore we would send them across the country in charge of Michael Rouse, Isaac Barker, and Ben Cushing, counting to take them up when we came to Buffalo Creek, for there the river was deeper, the current swifter, and we should have no difficulty in carrying them.

A great time we had of it, packing our goods into the boat in a way to economize every inch of space, and when this had been done, and we learned how much of the craft could be given over to our own use, we set about making arrangements for comfort, first by covering the stern of the boat with mud to the depth of ten or twelve inches, and then building around it a fireplace of stone, where the cooking could be done without danger of setting fire to the timbers.

THE CATTLE ARE SENT AWAY

With blankets and sheets we made a covering for the after part of our ark, so that the women and children would be kept dry in case of a storm.

When all this had been done, and we had bought as much in the way of provisions as could be purchased at a reasonable price, Isaac, Michael, and Ben set off with the beasts.

It gave me a homesick feeling to see them march away; we had been together so long and had gone through so many hardships.

Within half an hour after the horses and oxen, with their drivers, had disappeared, we pushed off from the shore, and very strange did it seem to be carried along by the current, instead of fighting one's way through mud.

I said to myself that now it was the same as coming to the end of our journey, for we had simply to sit still and let the river do the work.

This, however, I soon understood was a mistake, for although we were not forced to trudge through mud and snow, there was ample work for men and boys in holding the clumsy craft out from the shore where she was like to go aground, or again, in leaping overboard and actually lifting her off some shoal on which she had grounded, as it seemed to me, in a very spirit of perverseness.

It is true that we were forced to work quite as hard in navigating the boat as when we plodded over the miry road, and yet there was this advantage, we were able to eat our meals at regular times.

What with rowing and poling, and now and then leaping waist deep into the water to shove her from the shoals, we contrived, after a considerable time, to get as far as the Monongahela River, where the water was deeper and the current swifter, permitting us to get some rest now and then, and for the first time since leaving Mattapoisett did this journey begin to seem pleasing.

It was Sunday evening when we arrived at Pittsburgh, making our clumsy craft fast to a stake on the shore at the junction of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers, with the Ohio in full view.

AT PITTSBURGH

The town of Pittsburgh, the largest we had seen since coming into the state of Pennsylvania, appeared to me a most prosperous settlement. There was the fort called Pitt, and half a dozen shops, in addition to the houses which I was told sheltered about five hundred people. Therefore you can understand that it was indeed a place of considerable consequence.

It was not so late in the day but that Master Rouse and Captain Haskell went up into the town, after our boat had been made fast to the stake as I have said, in order to attend to some business, for on the frontier one does not observe so religiously the Sabbath as at home, and travelers who must continue their journey with as little delay as possible, are allowed to make necessary purchases even on Sunday.

When the two men went on shore there was nothing said as to how soon they might come back; but we supposed both would return as soon as their business was done.

Therefore the girls at once set about cooking supper; but when the meal was ready our gentlemen were not returned, and we waited for them until the corn cake was nearly cold, while the fish which we had caught during the day were much the worse for having remained from the fire so long.

About nine o'clock Mistress Rouse and Mistress Devoll decided that the younger children must be fed, in order that they might be put to bed at a reasonable hour, and therefore we ate the meal without waiting longer.

Well it was that we did so, if we counted on satisfying our hunger that day, for two hours later the men were yet absent, and then Mistress Devoll told me we should make our preparations for the night.

Now you know that this was no small task. The beds and bedding were stowed in the wagons during the day, and when night came, all must be taken out and spread upon the bottom of the boat for the women and children, while the boys--and of course I was numbered among them--slept in one of the wagons.

On this night, however, because Captain Haskell and Master Rouse had not returned, Mistress Rouse believed that I should make my bed at the end of the boat near the fireplace, where I could stand guard, or, in other words, where I might be ready to do whatsoever would be needed during the hours of darkness.

TOO MUCH WATER

I congratulated myself not a little that I was to sleep upon a very comfortable sack of feathers, which had thus far served Captain Haskell. Without giving very much heed to the fact that the men yet remained in town when there was every reason why they should have come back to the boat, I laid myself down, and was speedily lost in slumber, for the work during the day had been severe, and I was needing rest sorely.