The Crossing

The Crossing

The Project Gutenberg EBook The Crossing by Winston Churchill #1 in our series by Winston Churchill [This is an American cousin of the British Sir Winston Churchill]
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission. Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****
Title: The Crossing
Author: Winston Churchill
Release Date: January, 1996 [EBook #388] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted in 1993] [This file was most recently updated on June 24, 2002
Edition: 11
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROSSING BY WINSTON CHURCHILL ***

Scanned by Charles Keller with OmniPage Professional OCR software donated by Caere Corporation, 1-800-535-7226. Contact Mike Lough
This eBook was corrected and updated by David Widger

THE CROSSING
By Winston Churchill

CONTENTS
BOOK I. THE BORDERLAND
I. THE BLUE WALL II. WARS AND RUMORS OF WARS III. CHARLESTOWN IV. TEMPLE BOW V. CRAM'S HELL VI. MAN PROPOSES, BUT GOD DISPOSES VII. IN SIGHT OF THE BLUE WALL ONCE MORE VIII. THE NOLLICHUCKY TRACE IX. ON THE WILDERNESS TRAIL X. HARRODSTOWN XI. FRAGMENTARY XII. THE CAMPAIGN BEGINS XIII. KASKASKIA XIV. HOW THE KASKASKIANS WERE MADE CITIZENS XV. DAYS OF TRIAL XVI. DAVY GOES TO CAHOKIA XVII. THE SACRIFICE XVIII. "AN' YE HAD BEEN WHERE I HAD BEEN" XIX. THE HAIR BUYER TRAPPED XX. THE CAMPAIGN ENDS
BOOK II. FLOTSAM AND JETSAM
I. IN THE CABIN II. "THE BEGGARS ARE COME TO TOWN" III. WE GO TO DANVILLE IV. I CROSS THE MOUNTAINS ONCE MORE V. I MEET AN OLD BEDFELLOW VI. THE WIDOW BROWN'S VII. I MEET A HERO VIII. TO ST. LOUIS IX. "CHERCHEZ LA FEMME" X. THE KEEL BOAT XI. THE STRANGE CITY XII. LES ISLES XIII. MONSIEUR AUGUSTE ENTRAPPED XIV. RETRIBUTION
BOOK III. LOUISIANA
I. THE RIGHTS OF MAN II. THE HOUSE ABOVE THE FALLS III. LOUISVILLE CELEBRATES IV. OF A SUDDEN RESOLUTION V. THE HOUSE OF THE HONEYCOMBED TILES VI. MADAME LA VICOMTESSE VII. THE DISPOSAL OF THE SIEUR DE ST. GRE VIII. AT LAMARQUE'S IX. MONSIEUR LE BARON X. THE SCOURGE XI. "IN THE MIDST OF LIFE" XII. VISIONS, AND AN AWAKENINGS XIII. A MYSTERY XIV. "TO UNPATHED WATERS, UNDREAMED SHORES" XV. AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A MAN
AFTERWORD

THE CROSSING
BOOK I
THE BORDERLAND

CHAPTER I
THE BLUE WALL
I was born under the Blue Ridge, and under that side which is blue in the evening light, in a wild land of game and forest and rushing waters. There, on the borders of a creek that runs into the Yadkin River, in a cabin that was chinked with red mud, I came into the world a subject of King George the Third, in that part of his realm known as the province of North Carolina.
The cabin reeked of corn-pone and bacon, and the odor of pelts. It had two shakedowns, on one of which I slept under a bearskin. A rough stone chimney was reared outside, and the fireplace was as long as my father was tall. There was a crane in it, and a bake kettle; and over it great buckhorns held my father's rifle when it was not in use. On other horns hung jerked bear's meat and venison hams, and gourds for drinking cups, and bags of seed, and my father's best hunting shirt; also, in a neglected corner, several articles of woman's attire from pegs. These once belonged to my mother. Among them was a gown of silk, of a fine, faded pattern, over which I was wont to speculate. The women at the Cross-Roads, twelve miles away, were dressed in coarse butternut wool and huge sunbonnets. But when I questioned my father on these matters he would give me no answers.
My father was--how shall I say what he was? To this day I can only surmise many things of him. He was a Scotchman born, and I know now that he had a slight Scotch accent. At the time of which I write, my early childhood, he was a frontiersman and hunter. I can see him now, with his hunting shirt and leggings and moccasins; his powder horn, engraved with wondrous scenes; his bullet pouch and