With Axe and Rifle | Page 2

a very usual state of life for an Irishman; but, somehow or other he had not met the girl he "wished to marry," as he used to say. He was, notwithstanding, a merry, good-natured, kind-hearted man, and I remember that we always enjoyed his brief visits whenever he rode over on his fast-trotting cob to see us. Uncle Denis had not come for some time, when my father received a message from a doctor who was attending him, stating that if his sister wished to see him alive, she must come over immediately. My mother did not hesitate a moment, and my father agreed to drive her over in the waggon. I was to accompany them. Preparations were at once made for our departure, and as the Shawanees, long the foes of the white man in those regions, had buried the war-hatchet, and were not likely to come that way, the rest of the children were left without any apprehensions of danger, under the charge of our old black nurse, Rose.
The waggon was a long, light vehicle, with little or no iron-work about it, having benches across, and rails on either side. It had four wheels of equal size, and was drawn by a couple of horses harnessed to a pole; owing to the height and position of the two front wheels, we could not turn without making a long sweep.
My father sat on the box to drive. My mother and I occupied the front bench, and behind was stowed our luggage, provisions for the journey, and various other articles, Although I was very young at the time, I have nevertheless a clear recollection of some of the incidents of the journey.
Descending by a thickly wooded valley to the level of the Ohio, we crossed that river in a large ferry-boat, which conveyed our horses and waggon at the same time, while my mother and I sat in the vehicle and my father stood at the head of the animals to keep them quiet. The stream carried us down for some distance, and I remember my mother holding me tight in her arms, and looking with terrified glances at the water as it whirled by, apparently about to sweep the lumbering boat far down below the point the rowers were endeavouring to gain. They exerted themselves, however, to the utmost. The boat's head was turned partly up the stream, and an eddy taking her, we at length reached the landing-place. My father then mounting the box, with voice and whip urged the horses up the steep bank, and once more the waggon rolled over tolerably even ground.
The country through which we passed was in those days almost in a state of nature, with the exception of the high road traversing the State from one end to the other. The first part lay across the "Barrens," a wild region, where the soil being inferior in fertility to that of the uplands, it was destitute of inhabitants. To the south extended a level prairie covered with long grass, with here and there groves of oak, chestnut, and elm. To the north the country appeared more undulating, clothed with a far greater variety of trees; hickory, black walnut, cherry, as well as magnificent oak and elm.
"I hope we shall not have another river to cross like that," observed my mother, after keeping silence for some time, while she was endeavouring to recover from her alarm.
"Not so broad a one, Kate," answered my father, "but there are several streams which we must manage to get over either by fords or ferry-boats, for I doubt whether we shall find any bridges as yet put up to drive over, though they will come in good time, I have no doubt. We run no danger just now, and I don't suppose that we shall have the least difficulty in crossing any stream in our way."
As we drove along we occasionally started a herd of deer feeding on the rich grass in the forest-glades. Hares in abundance crossed our path, and a fox slunk by, casting a suspicious glance at us, as he ran out of sight into a bush. Towards evening, as we were hoping soon to reach a log hut in which we could pass the night, our ears were assailed by a long, low howl.
"Where can that come from?" exclaimed my mother.
"Possibly from a wolf; but I'll give a good account of the brute if he makes his appearance," answered my father; "hand me out my rifle."
My mother gave him the weapon, and he placed it by his side ready for use. He had also a brace of pistols stuck in his belt, so that he was prepared for an encounter either with wolves, bears, or any hostile Indians who might have ventured thus far