Chronicles of border warfare : $b or, A history of the settlement by the whites, of north-western Virginia, and of the Indian wars and massacres, in that section of the stateWithers, Alexander Scott
History
Chronicles of border warfare : $b or, A history of the settlement by the whites, of north-western Virginia, and of the Indian wars and massacres, in that section of the state
Withers, Alexander Scott
Indians of North America -- Wars -- 1750-1815; Ohio River Valley -- History -- To 1795; West Virginia -- History -- To 1950
During this year, and while in the employ of John Simpson (a trapper,
who had come there in quest of furs,) they determined on removing
farther west. Simpson was induced to this, by the prospect of enjoying
the woods free from the intrusion of other hunters (the glades having
begun to be a common hunting ground for the inhabitants of the South
Branch;) while a regard for their personal safety, caused the Pringles
to avoid a situation, in which they might be exposed to the
observation of other men.
In journeying through the wilderness, and after having crossed Cheat
river at the Horse shoe, a quarrel arose between Simpson and one of
the Pringles; and notwithstanding that peace and harmony were so
necessary to their mutual safety and comfort; yet each so far indulged
the angry passions which had been excited, as at length to produce a
separation.
Simpson crossed over the Valley river, near the mouth of Pleasant
creek, and passing on to the head of another water course, gave to it
the name of Simpson's creek. Thence he went westwardly, and fell over
on a stream which he called Elk: at the mouth of this he erected a
camp, and continued to reside for more than twelve months. During this
time he neither saw the Pringles nor any other human being; and at the
expiration of it went to the South Branch, where he disposed of his
furs and skins and then returned to, and continued at, his encampment
at the mouth of Elk, until permanent settlements were made in its
vicinity.
The Pringles kept up the Valley river 'till they observed a large
right hand fork, (now Buchannon),[1] which they ascended [91] some
miles; and at the mouth of a small branch (afterward called Turkey
run) they took up their abode in the cavity of a large Sycamore
tree.[2] The stump of this is still to be seen, and is an object of no
little veneration with the immediate descendants of the first
settlers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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