54G ■ ItdAIU"* OF AnitTcri/lTKK, 



Quite a different thing to have transportation on paper, instead of on 

 land and water. 



Indiana marked upliill on paper, but downliill on fact. 



At first, trails, instead of roads. Trails were niarlced by cliips cut out 

 of the trees. After a time roads were so niarlted. One sucli has lingered 

 to our time. The "Three Notcli Road" down Meridian Street, south 

 through .Johnson, Brown and other counties to the Ohio River, is an evi- 

 dence. It is so known in Marion County and took Its name from the 

 ••three chips" made by the ax on the trees. 



My grandfather. Matthias R. Nowland. came from Frankfort, Ken- 

 tucky, in October, IS'20. i-eaching Indianapolis in November. He crossed 

 the Oliio River at the mouth of "Little Kentucky River," a short distance 

 east from Madison, struck a trail that led to Versailles, Ripley County, 

 and then struck "Berry's Trail," that led him to Indianapolis. His trans- 

 portation consisted of a six-horse wagon, in which were the heavy pieces 

 of furniture, horses, on which feather beds were lashed, forming plat- 

 forms for the children to perch on, and two horses with sidesaddles for his 

 mother and wife, reminding Uncle .Tohn of a "cavalcade of Bedouins." 

 On one my mother and Uncle .Tohn were riding; the horse stumbled; chil- 

 dren were almost smothered in the feather bed avalanche on which they 

 were seated. 



In time trails gave place to roads. The classification would truthfully 

 read. "Swamp, corduroy, ruts, sink-holes, once in a while road." 



These were the greetings of the immigrant who sought the forest-clad 

 wilds of Indiana. Common sense, the best kind of sense, was the school 

 teacher that taught where were the best roads, the best water, the best 

 camping places, the best site for the log cabin— the best residence that has 

 been devised for human kind, warm in winter, cool in summer. 



"With such roads, such trails, no gravel, no turnpikes, emigrants flocked 

 to the forest-clad soil of Indiana. 



Everything in Nature's noi'mal scenery and beauty. No bridges, some- 

 times a ferry, sometimes a ford: swimming horses always at a premium. 

 If the rivers and creeks were out of their banks, camp till the water would 

 run out. 



God honored the noble men and still nobler Avomen that dared the 

 solitude of the forest, the Indiana's stealthy approach, the cries of panther, 

 wolves, wildcats, the deadly rattlesnake, copperhead, water moccasin, to 

 make of Indiana a garden spot. Delawares, Miamis, Shawnees must give 

 place to the civilization of God's chosen people. 



My grandfather used eight days to get from the Ohio River to Indian- 

 apolis, about eighty-five miles. AVhen our family went from Indianapolis 

 to Jeffersonville in May, 1836, we traveled over good roads, the best that 

 Indiana furnished. Hard foundation, at times well graded, no bridges, 

 ferries over streams, splendid weather, light carriage with two horses, 

 find a saddle horse, that those in the carriage might rest a spell. 



