Captain Parks, a blunt, corpulent, middle-aged man, who had served and been wounded in the Revolutionary war, was toilsomely making his way along the banks of the Ohio, near the close of day, followed by his servant, a great fat negro, of about as much use as a common ox would have been. He was endeavoring to reach a certain point, which had been described to him by the renowned ranger Lew Wetzel, for the purpose of being taken on board a flat-boat on its way down the Ohio. His own family and a number of friends were on board, and after seeing them embark, a goodly number of miles above, he had gone overland for some distance in order to meet a man on an important business matter. Remaining with him no longer than could be helped, he made all haste toward the rendezvous, which he had just reached at the time we introduce him to the reader. “Yes, Pompey, here’s the spot!” exclaimed Captain Parks, looking around in surprised pleasure. “There’s the uprooted tree, with the shrubbery growing around its roots, that Wetzel told me to be on the look-out for.” “Yaas, and dar am de riber dat he said would be dar, too.” “The river, you blockhead? Of course, else how could we meet the flat-boat.” “Dat am so,” returned Pompey, thoughtfully, and a moment later he shouted, “Ki yi? dar he comes now.” “You blasted fool, that is a canoe full of Indians! Stoop down, or they’ll have our scalps in ten minutes.” The men sank down out of sight, while the canoe that had attracted their attention, made its way swiftly across the river several hundred yards above. Its inmates seemed unaware of their presence, as they advanced straight across the river without swerving to the right or left. As Captain Parks was anxiously scanning the savages he was certain he saw a white man sitting in the stern, and from appearances he was the guiding spirit of the forces. While scrutinizing him the negro at his elbow again spoke. “Dar it am dis time, shuah.” He was not mistaken this time. Coming around a bend above, the flat-boat floated slowly and silently forward under the perfect control of the current. When first seen it had the appearance of a large, square box, at either end of which was hung a lengthy oar, which now and then swayed and dipped in the water. The cabin ran the entire length, except at each end there was a small space left sufficient to contain a half-dozen men. Above these open spaces the heavy bullet-proof sides rose for five feet. A small narrow window was pierced in the sides, opening and shutting at pleasure, while a trap afforded egress to those within. The spaces at the ends communicated with the cabin by means of another small door, so that the inmates of the boat, whoever they might be, were able to pass and repass without exposing themselves to danger from an ever watchful foe without.