The trail through the gap and down the mountain side, centuries old, had been made by the Indians and great herds of buffalo. After passing through the gap to the western side one had a superb view down the deep valley of the upper Kanawha and the opposite mountain range, which seemed a twin to the one on which you stood. A virgin forest clothed its side and great bald peaks and precipices peeped out in grayish, rugged contrast. The trail threaded narrow coves, in which were great chestnut and poplar trees, and wound in ever descending curves and spirals around the base of great cliffs and from one natural terrace to a lower one. The distance from the divide as the trail followed the river from its head fountains to where Mason and his Indian friends had cached their canoe was thirty miles, the usual first day’s tramp; but as a concession to Dorothy, though she said it was not necessary, they camped when two-thirds of the distance had been covered. While Dorothy, Mason and John made ready the camp and began supper; Captain Fairfax and the Indians hunting in the cliffs, killed a yearling bear, steaks from which were broiled for supper and breakfast. By nine the next morning they made the willows, where the canoe was concealed; and from there in four days and without unusual incident paddled to Point Pleasant; and also in good time they completed their voyage from the mouth of the Kanawha, down the Ohio and up the Scioto, to Shauane-Town. Word of their coming having preceded them they were met at the river by the whole village. John Calvin was lodged with his brothers by adoption, Tecumseh or the Crouching Panther and Oliuachica or the Prophet; the others were taken to the guest lodge. Their visit was made the occasion for several big hunts and festivals which were enjoyed by all. Oliuachica and two braves returned to Jackson River with them; not only as a guard for that journey but to act as guides and to protect their party upon its contemplated emigration to the District of Kentucky, by way of the Wilderness Road. While they were away Donald McDonald died. Mrs. McDonald going from the room wherein she was spinning to the adjoining one, found him sitting in his old hickory split-bottom chair, with his Bible resting in his lap. Though the door between the rooms had been open, she had heard no sound. His death was not unexpected; he was quite feeble and in his eighty-third year. They buried him in the kirkyard of the church where he had preached for so many years. Though his kindred a month or so later moved to Kentucky and never again visited the old place, his grave was not neglected. Friends and members of his flock, in testimony that his work was appreciated and his life had not been in vain, trimmed the turf of the green mound and in season strewed it with apple, laurel and rhododendron bloom. CHAPTER XI.—The Kentucky Spirit or Why the Kentucky Colonel.