LIFE OF WILSON. 
Ixxxv 
Schuylkill ; and winds away between prodigious perpendicular cliffs of solid 
limestone. In this deep and romantic valley the sound of the boat horns, from 
several Kentucky arks, which were at that instant passing, produced a most 
charming effect. The river, I was told, had already fallen fifteen feet ; but 
was still high. I observed great numbers of uncommon plants and flowers, 
gi'owing among the cliffs; and a few solitary bank swallows were skimming 
along the surface. Reascending from this, and travelling for a few miles, I 
again descended a vast depth to another stream called Dick's river, engulfed 
among the same perpendicular masses of rock. Though it was nearly dark, I 
found some curious petrifactions, and some beautiful specimens of mother-of- 
pearl on the shore. The roaring of a mill-dam, and the rattling of the mill, 
prevented the ferryman from hearing me till it was quite night; and I passed 
the rest of the road in the dark, over a rocky country, abounding with springs, 
to Danville. This place stands on a slight eminence, and contains about eighty 
houses, chiefly log and frame buildings, disposed in two parallel streets, crossed 
by several others. It has two ropewalks and a woollen manufactory ; also nine 
shops and three taverns. I observed a great many sheep feeding about here, 
amidst fields of excellent pasture. It is, however, but a dull place. A Romau 
Catholic chapel has been erected here, at the expense of one or two individuals. 
The shopkeepers trade from the mouth of Dick's river down to New Orleans, 
with the common productions of the country, flour, hemp, tobacco, pork, corn, 
and whiskey. 
" I was now one hundred and eighty miles from Nashville, and, as I was 
informed, not a town or village on the whole route. Every day, however, was 
producing wonders in the woods, by the progress of vegetation. The blossoms 
of the sassafras, dog-wood, and red bud, contrasted with the deep green of the 
poplar and buckeye, enriched the scenery on every side ; while the voices of the 
feathered tribes, many of which were to me new and unknown, were continually 
engaging me in the pursuit. Emerging from the deep solitude of the forest, 
the rich green of the grain-fields, the fiirm-house and cabins embosomed amidst 
orchards of glowing purple and white, gave the sweetest relief to the eye. Not 
far from the foot of a high mountain, called Mulders Hill, I overtook one of 
those family caravans so common in this country, moving to the westward. 
The procession occupied a length of road, and had a formidable appearance, 
though, as I afterwards understood, it was composed of the individuals of only 
a single family. In the front went a wagon drawn by four horses, driven by 
a negro, and filled with implements of agriculture ; another heavy-loaded 
wagon, with six horses, followed, attended by two persons; after which came 
a numerous and mingled group of horses, steers, cows, sheep, hogs, and calves 
with their bells ; next followed eight boys mounted double, also a negro wench 
with a white child before her; then the mother with one child behind her, 
and another at the breast; ten or twelve colts brought up the rear, now and 
then picking herbage, and trotting ahead. The fiither, a fresh, good-looking 
man, informed me that he was from Washington county, in Kentucky, and was 
going as far as Cumberland river; he had two ropes fixed to the top of the 
wagon, one of which he guided himself, and the other was intrusted to his 
eldest son, to keep it from oversetting in ascending the mountain. The singu- 
