lxxviii LIFE OF 



bled ! One buckshot had entered here, and another here' (laying a 

 finger on each breast) ' and the bullet found the way to his brains, 

 right through his forehead.' Though I believed every word of this 

 to be a lie, yet I could not but look with disgust on the being who 

 uttered it. This same miscreant pronounced a long prayer before 

 supper ; and, immediately after, called out, in a splutter of oaths, 

 for the pine splinters to be held to let the gentleman see. Such a 

 farrago of lies, oaths, prayers, and politeness, put me in good humour 

 in spite of myself. The whole herd of this filthy kennel were in per- 

 petual motion with the itch ; so, having procured a large fire to be 

 made, under pretence of habit, I sought for the softest plank, placed 

 my trunk and greatcoat at my head, and stretched myself there till 

 morning. I set out early, and passed several arks. A number of 

 turkeys, which I observed from time to time on the Indiana shore, 

 made me lose half the morning in search of them. On the Kentucky 

 shore, I was also decoyed by the same temptations, but never could 

 approach near enough to shoot one of them. These affairs detained 

 me so, that I was dubious whether I should be able to reach Louis- 

 ville that night. Night came on, and I could hear nothing of the 

 Falls. About eight, I heard the first roaring of the Eapids ; and, 

 as it increased, I was every moment in hopes of seeing the lights of 

 Louisville; but no lights appeared, and the noise seemed now within 

 less than half a mile of me. Seriously alarmed, lest I might be 

 drawn into the suction of the Falls, I cautiously coasted along 

 shore, which was full of snags and sawyers, and at length, with great 

 satisfaction, opened Bear Grass Creek, where I secured my skiff to a 

 Kentucky boat, and, loading myself with my baggage, I groped my 

 way through a swamp up to the town. The next day, I sold my 

 skiff for exactly half what it cost me ; and the man who bought it 

 wondered why I gave it such a droll Indian name [the Ornitholo- 

 gist). 'Some old chief or warrior, I suppose?' said he. This day, 

 I walked down along shore to Shipping Port, to take a view of these 

 celebrated Piapids ; but they fell far short of my expectation. I 

 should have no hesitation in going down them in a skiff. The Falls 

 of Oswego, in the state of New York, though on a smaller scale, 

 are far more dangerous and formidable in appearance. Though the 

 river was not high, I observed two arks and a barge run them with 

 great ease and rapidity. The Ohio here is something more than a 



