Lodged at a tavern thirty-four miles from Wheeling, after rowing against head-winds, which rendered the work somewhat fatiguing. In the evening a number of young men came in from a husking of Indian corn in the neighbourhood; they commenced drinking and swearing, all bawling out and talking at once. Such noisy gabbling I never before heard. _November 6._ To-day I got into a long stretch of the river, where it is straight for seventeen miles. This part is called the Long Reach.[53] The wind blew upward, and opposed a rolling surface to my progress. The labour was hard, but the headway very small; family boats have been obliged to land. I saw some young men in a canoe who had just killed a deer in the act of crossing the river. Lodged at a tavern about half way down the long Reach. Two old women, (sisters,) were there, one was in quest of her husband, and the other of her daughter. The uncle is forty-five years of age, and the niece sixteen. Affinity and disparity of {84} age united, have not been sufficient to prevent the elopement. From Wheeling to near this place, coal, limestone, and sandstone are abundant. In my passage, I have seen twenty-five islands. Some of them are of considerable size; the second below Pittsburg is six miles long. Islands being covered with timber, varying in size from the shortest willows by the water’s edge, to tall trees in the centre, have a beautiful appearance when viewed from the river either above or below them. I have descended twenty-two ripples. In a few of these, the stranger is apt to feel a considerable anxiety from being swept hastily along amongst logs, with their tops above water, and over stones and logs sunk beneath its surface. _November 7._ The inconvenience and expense that attend putting my baggage ashore every night, and on board every morning, are great. Tavern-keepers’ servants are usually of their own families. Freemen in early life, they, in many cases, disregard the parental command, however reasonable. If I mistake not, the assistance which I paid dearly for, was sometimes procured by my own address rather than a sense of duty on their part. Although I am now a good waterman, and outsail every vessel I see, I resolved to adopt a more convenient, though less expeditious way of travelling. I applied to the master of a large keel boat, on its way for Portsmouth, at the mouth of great Sciota river, to be taken on board. He refused to take me as a passenger, but was willing to accept of me on condition that I would row in the place of a man who was about to leave him. I agreed to work; for in my skiff I wrought very hard. I changed my place, but did not improve my condition.