lxxvi 
LIFE OF 
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 farther remains of 
an animal 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 Peale. They make here about one thousand bushels weekly, 
which sell at one dollar and seventy-five cents per bushel. The 
wells are from thirty to fifty feet deep, but nothing very 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 fast 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 pro- 
digious quantities of petrified shells of the small cockle and 
fan-shaped kind, but whether marine remains or not, I am uncertain. 
I have since found these petrified concoctions of shells universal 
all over Kentucky, wherever I have been. The rocks look as if 
one had collected heaps of broken shells and wrought them up 
among clay, then hardened it into stone. These rocks lie univer- 
sally in horizontal strata. A farmer, in the neighbourhood of 
Washington, assured me, that, from seven acres he reaped at once 
eight thousand weight of excellent hemp, fit for market. 
“ Amidst very tempestuous weather, I reached the town of 
Cincinnati, which does honour to the name of the old Roman, and 
is the neatest and handsomest situated place I have seen since I 
left Philadelphia. You must know, that, during an unknown series 
of ages, the river Ohio has gradually sunk several hundred feet 
below its former bed, and has left, on both sides, occasionally, 
what are called the first or nearest, and the second or next, high 
bank, the latter of which is never overflowed. 
“ The town of Cincinnati occupies two beautiful plains, one on 
the first, and the other on the second bank, and contains upwards 
