WANDERINGS THROUGH THE WILDS. 79 



Victor, who was scarcely fourteen, was a lively boy, and bad no 

 fear of failing. Cleaving our way, Indian-file fashion, through 

 the cane brakes — through the burnt forest — ^through the brush- 

 wood-clad banks of the river, and along the pebbly shore, we 

 reached, after twelve miles' walking, the village of America. 

 After refreshing ourselves we covered another seven miles, and 

 reached a cabin, where we were well received by a squatter 

 family. 



"After a bath in the Ohio, my son and myself joined the rest, 

 and we enjoyed an excellent supper, and a capital sleep in such 

 beds as could be provided. We rose at break of day and left 

 our kind host and hostess, who would receive no pecuniary 

 reward. At seven miles further we found an excellent breakfast 

 at a house owned by a very lazy fellow, whose beautiful wife 

 appeared to be superior to her station, and who conducted the 

 household affairs in a very agreeable manner. We left a dollar 

 with one of the children, and pursued our way along the beach 

 of the Ohio. After proceeding some distance, my son Victor 

 broke down, but after a rest he suddenly revived at the sight of 

 a wild turkey, and resumed' his journey in good spirits. We 

 reached Belgi'ade and continued our journey. Towards sunset 

 we reached the shores of the river, opposite the mouth of the 

 Cumberland. On a hill, the property of Major B., we foimd a 

 house and a solitary woman, wretchedly poor, but very kind. 

 She assured us that if we could not cross the river, she would 

 give us food and shelter for the night, but said that as the 

 moon was up, she could get us put over when her skiff came 

 back. Hungry and fatigued, we lay down on the brown grass, 

 waiting either a scanty meal, or the skiff that was to convey 

 us across the river, I had already grated the corn for our 

 supper, run down the chickens, and made a fire, when a cry of 

 ' Boat coming !' roused us all. We crossed the river Ohio, and 

 I again found myself in Kentucky, the native state of my two 

 sons. We then pursued our onward journey, but my son 

 suffered sorely from lameness. As we trudged along, nothing 

 remarkable occurred excepting that we saw a fine black wolf, 

 quite tame and gentle, the owner of which had refused a 

 hundred dollars for it. Mr. Rose, who was an engineer, and a 

 man of taste, played on the flageolet to lighten our journey. 



