With Axe and Rifle | Page 3

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 eastward.
At last we found ourselves rumbling over a corduroy road, a sign that
we were approaching human habitations. It was composed of the trunks
of large trees, placed close together across the path, over a swampy
place into which the wheels of carriages would otherwise have been
imbedded. The interstices had originally been filled in with earth, clay,
or chips of wood, but in many parts the small stuff had sunk through, so
that the waggon moved on over a succession of ridges, on which it
seemed a wonder that the horses could keep their legs, and that we
could escape being jerked out. Sometimes a trunk, rotted by the wet,
had given way and left a gap, to avoid which it required my father's
utmost skill in driving. Occasionally, with all his care, he could not find
a space wide enough to enable the wheels to pass. On such occasions,
lashing his horses into a gallop, he made the waggon bound over it,
crying out, as he came to the spot--
"Hold fast, Kate; don't let Mike be hove overboard."
The waggon was strong, and stood the jolting better than my poor
mother did. She, however, bore all the bumping, jolting, and rolling
with perfect good humour, knowing well that my father would spare
her as much of it as he possibly could.
Darkness found us still on the road, although my father could still see
his way between the tall trees. Scarcely had the sun set than we again
heard that ominous howl, followed by sharp yelps.
"Oh! the wolves, the wolves!" cried my mother.

"Never fear," said my father, "they are arrant cowards, and there are no
large packs hereabouts to do us harm."
The thought, however, that they might follow us, alarmed my mother,
and she kept me close to her side, looking out anxiously behind,
expecting every instant to see a hungry pack coming up in chase of us.
My father, perhaps, was not quite easy on the subject; he kept shouting
out, and in spite of the roughness of the road, made the horses go at a
faster pace than before.
"Hurrah! I see a light ahead," he shouted at last; "that's the log hut we
were told of; and even if the wolves do come, we shall be safe from
them in a few minutes, for they will not approach a human habitation."
On we jolted; I could distinguish a clearing on the side where the light
appeared, it grew brighter and stronger, and presently my father pulled
up in front of a good-sized building, composed of huge logs placed one
above another, with the doors and windows sawn out of them, and
roofed with shingles, which are thin broad slabs of wood, split from the
trunks of large trees.
"Can you afford us shelter for the night, friend?" said my father to a
man, who, hearing the sound of wheels, came outside the door.
"Ay, and a welcome too, such as we give to all strangers who have
money or money's worth to pay for their lodging, and I guess you've
got that."
"Yes, I am ready to pay for our board and lodging, but I could not tell
in the dark whether or not this was a house of entertainment."
"I guess it's the finest hotel you'll find between the Ohio and
Harrodsburg," answered the man.
"All right," said my father; "I'll see my wife and child, as well as our
goods, safe inside; then we'll take the horses and waggon round to the
stables."

Saying this he helped my mother and me to the ground. We entered a
large room with a huge cooking-stove at one end, and a long table
down the middle, flanked by benches. A middle-aged woman, with
three strapping girls, her daughters, advanced to meet us, and
conducted my mother and me up to the stove, that we might warm
ourselves; for as it was early in the year, the evening had set in cold.
Our hostess talked away at a rapid rate, giving us all the news of the
country, and inquiring what information we could afford her in return.
We found that we were still nearly another day's journey from Green
River, after crossing which it would take us the best part of a third day
to get to my uncle's location. Three or four other travellers came in,
armed with bowie-knives, and pistols in their belts, each carrying a
long gun, which he placed against the wall. A black man and a girl
appeared, to serve at table, and we heard several others chattering