LIFE OF WILSON. 
Ixxvii 
ing to this hunter's own confession he had lost sixty pigs since Chvistnias h^st; 
and all night long the distant howling of the wolves kept the dogs in a per- 
petual uproar of barking. This man was one of those people called squatters, who 
neither pay rent nor own land, but keep roving on the frontiers, advancing as 
the tide uf civilized population approaches. They are the immediate succes- 
sors of the savages, and far below them in good sense and good manners, as 
well as comfortable accommodations. An engraved representation of one of 
their cabins would form a striking embellishment to the pages of the Port 
Folio, as a specimen of the fiml order of Aincria.in Arcliitvctura. 
" Nothing adds more to the savage grandeur, and picturesque effect, of the 
scenery along the Ohio, than these miserable huts of human beings, lurking at 
the bottom of a gigantic growth of timber, that I have not seen equalled in 
any other part of the United States. And it is truly amusing to observe how 
dear and how familiar habit has rendered those privations, which must have 
been first the offspring of necessity. Yet none pride themselves more on their 
possessions. The inhabitants of these forlorn sheds will talk to you with pride 
of the richness of their soil, of the excellence and abundance of their cmintry, 
of the healthiness of their climate, and the purity of their waters ; while the 
only bread you find among them is of Indian corn, coarsely ground in a horse- 
mill, with half of the grains unbroken ; even their cattle are destitute of sta- 
bles and hay, and look like moving skeletons ; their own houses worse than 
pig-sties ; their clothes an assemblage of rags ; their faces yellow, and lank 
with disease ; and their persons covered with filth, and frequently garnished 
■with the humors of the Scotch fiddle ; from which dreadful disease, by the 
mercy of God, I have been most miraculously preserved. All tliis is the 
effect of laziness. The corn is thrown into the ground in the spring, and the 
pigs turned into the woods, where they multiply like rabbits. The labor of 
the squatter is now over till autumn, and he spends the winter in eating pork, 
cabbage and hoe cakes. What a contrast to the neat farm, and snug, cleanly 
habitation, of the industrious settler, that opens his green fields, his stately 
barns, gardens and orchards, to the gladdened eye of the delighted stranger ! 
" At a place called Salt Lick, I went ashore to see the salt works, and to 
learn whether the people had found any further remains of an aiiiujal of the 
ox kind, one of whose horns, of a prodigious size, was discovered here some 
years ago, and is in the possession of Mr. Pealed They make here about one 
thousand bushels weekly, which sells at one dollar and seventy-five cents per 
bushel. The wells are from thirty to fifty feet deep, but nothing curious has 
lately been dug up. I landed at Maysville, or Limestone, where a considerable 
deal of business is done in importation for the interior of Kentucky. It stands 
on a high narrow plain between the mountains and the river, which is fist 
devouring the bank, and encroaching on the town ; part of the front street is 
gone already, and unless some effectual means are soon taken, the whole must 
go by piecemeal. This town contains about one hundred houses, chiefly log 
and frames. From this place I set out on foot for Washington. On the road, 
at the height of several hundred feet above the present surface of the river, 
I found prodigious quantities of petrified shells, of the small cockle and fan- 
shaped kind, but whether marine remains or not am uncertain. I have since 
