2/6 A UDUBON 



soon recovered, and our stout companion, whom I shall 

 call S., evidently showed symptoms of lassitude. On 

 arriving at the cabin of a lazy man, blessed with an indus- 

 trious wife and six healthy children, all of whom labored 

 for his support, we were welcomed by the woman, whose 

 motions and language indicated her right to belong to a 

 much higher class. Better breakfast I never ate: the 

 bread was made of new corn, ground on a tin grater by 

 the beautiful hands of our blue-eyed hostess ; the chickens 

 had been prepared by one of her lovely daughters ; some 

 good coffee was added, and my son had fresh milk. The 

 good woman, who now held a babe to her bosom, seemed 

 pleased to see how heartily we all ate ; the children went 

 to work, and the lazy husband went to the door to smoke a 

 corn-cob pipe. A dollar was put into the ruddy hand of the 

 chubby urchin, and we bade its mother farewell. Again 

 we trudged along the beach, but after a while betook our- 

 selves to the woods. My son became faint. Dear boy ! 

 never can I forget how he lay exhausted on a log, large 

 tears rolling down his cheeks. I bathed his temples, spoke 

 soothingly to him, and chancing to see a fine Turkey Cock 

 run close by, directed his attention to it, when, as if suddenly 

 refreshed, he got up and ran a few yards towards the bird. 

 From that moment he seemed to acquire new vigor, and at 

 length we reached Wilcox's, where we stopped for the night. 

 We were reluctantly received at the house, and had little 

 attention paid to us, but we had a meal and went to bed. 



The sun rose in all its splendor, and the Ohio reflected 

 its ruddy beams. A finer view of that river can scarcely 

 be obtained than that from the house which we were leav- 

 ing. Two miles through intricate woods brought us to 

 Belgrade, and having passed Fort Massacre, we halted and 

 took breakfast. S. gave us to understand that the want of 

 roads made travelling very unpleasant; he was not, he 

 added, in the habit of " skulking through the bushes, of 

 tramping over stony bars in the full sunshine ; " but how 



