Benjamin of Ohio: A Story of the Settlement of MariettaOtis, James
History
Benjamin of Ohio: A Story of the Settlement of Marietta
Otis, James
Frontier and pioneer life -- Ohio; Marietta (Ohio); Northwest, Old -- History
The women and children, if we camped at night where there were no
houses in which to take shelter, slept in the wagons, while the men
and boys made shift as best they might beneath the carts, getting such
warmth as could be had under the few blankets at their disposal and the
fires built close by, which were not of much avail because we could
find no dry fuel with which to feed them.
[Illustration]
Then came a day which I remember more vividly than any other of all
that long journey, when we descended the last of the Tuscarora Range,
and came to a fruitful valley, which we afterward learned was called
Ahwick, where was a small settlement, while here and there, when we
were on the higher land, could be seen farms which one might almost say
were ready for planting, despite the snow that yet lay deep among the
hills.
Master Rouse's wagon was leading the way and Uncle Daniel with his
plodding oxen brought up the rear. It was Saturday night; we expected
to remain at least two days, at the first place where we might sleep in
comfort, and it was necessary we find housing for all, which might not
be possible at the small log tavern we had heard would be found on the
road a short distance away.
A FRIENDLY DUNKARD
Therefore our party came to a halt at the first promising-looking
house, and Master Rouse set about learning what we might expect in the
way of entertainment.
The farm was owned by a German named Christian Hiples, who was of that
religious persuasion known as Dunkard, and a right friendly gentleman
he proved to be.
It really appeared to give him pain because he could not take all our
company in and give us the comforts of home; but it seemed to me that
he was doing even more than his share when he agreed that Master Rouse
and the members of his party should remain there, while the others of
us continued on to the tavern.
I regretted sorely that it was not my good fortune to be one of Master
Hiples's guests, for I had heard much concerning these people who call
themselves Dunkards, during our traveling through the state, and was
most eager to see them at home.
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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