Ten Days in Ohio. : 355 
hunting shirt. While thus busily occupied he looked up, and saw 
four or five Indians close upon him. This being too numerous a 
party for him to encounter alone he seized his rifle and took to his 
heels. They fired upon him but without effect; he soon left them 
all far behind but two, who being more swift of foot than their com- 
panions continued the chase for four or five miles, without his being 
able to leave them—he often stopped and “treed,” hoping to get a 
shot and disable one of them and then kill the other at his leisure; as 
soon as he took a tree the Indians did the same, and by flanking to 
tight and left, soon forced him to uncover or stand the chance of a 
shot. In this dilemna he concluded to try the hills, and leave the 
level ground on which they had so long been struggling. His vast 
muscular power here gave him the advantage as he could ascend the 
steep side of the hill more rapidly than his lighter but less muscular 
foes. Perceiving him to be leaving them, the Indians stopped and fired ; 
one ball passed so near as to cut away the handle of his hunting knife 
as it hung at his side, jerking the blade so violently against it as to 
make him think for a moment that he was wounded. He immedi- 
ately returned the shot, when the Indians with a tremendous yell 
‘abandoned the chase. Fleehart, a little out of wind, made a wide 
circuit in the hills, and came into the river near to where he had fas- 
tened his canoe; finding all safe, he lightly jumped on board and pushed 
vigorously. through the day ; at night he laid down in his canoe and 
when he awoke in the morning, was just entering the river Ohio; 
crossing over to the southern shore, he coasted along its calm waters, 
and reached “ Farmer’s Castle” in safety, laden with the spoils of his 
foes, and gratified with the admiration of his old companions. After 
the peace, as the tide of emigration rolled westward, Fleehart still 
kept on the borders, and was finally killed in some petty quarrels with 
his natural foes, the red men of the forest. 
PICKAWAY PLAINS. 
At about four miles from the Scioto we stopped for a draught of wa- 
ter, and on enquiring the depth of the well found it to be one hundred 
fect; the greater part of the distance through a bed of sand, ending 
in coarse gravel. Three and a half miles south of Circleville we cross- 
ed the celebrared Pickaway plains, said to contain the richest body 
of land in Ohio; and notwithstanding their elevation, the inhabitants, 
like those of the Champagna de Romani, have ever been sadly 
troubled by “ Malaria,” during the autumnal months. They are di- 
vided into two parts, the greater or upper plains, and the lesser or 
