Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction; Pioneers -- West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction; Slavery -- Juvenile fiction
The waggon was a long, light vehicle, with little or no iron-work about
it, having benches across, and rails on either side. It had four wheels
of equal size, and was drawn by a couple of horses harnessed to a pole;
owing to the height and position of the two front wheels, we could not
turn without making a long sweep.
My father sat on the box to drive. My mother and I occupied the front
bench, and behind was stowed our luggage, provisions for the journey,
and various other articles, Although I was very young at the time, I
have nevertheless a clear recollection of some of the incidents of the
journey.
Descending by a thickly wooded valley to the level of the Ohio, we
crossed that river in a large ferry-boat, which conveyed our horses and
waggon at the same time, while my mother and I sat in the vehicle and my
father stood at the head of the animals to keep them quiet. The stream
carried us down for some distance, and I remember my mother holding me
tight in her arms, and looking with terrified glances at the water as it
whirled by, apparently about to sweep the lumbering boat far down below
the point the rowers were endeavouring to gain. They exerted
themselves, however, to the utmost. The boat's head was turned partly
up the stream, and an eddy taking her, we at length reached the
landing-place. My father then mounting the box, with voice and whip
urged the horses up the steep bank, and once more the waggon rolled over
tolerably even ground.
The country through which we passed was in those days almost in a state
of nature, with the exception of the high road traversing the State from
one end to the other. The first part lay across the "Barrens," a wild
region, where the soil being inferior in fertility to that of the
uplands, it was destitute of inhabitants. To the south extended a level
prairie covered with long grass, with here and there groves of oak,
chestnut, and elm. To the north the country appeared more undulating,
clothed with a far greater variety of trees; hickory, black walnut,
cherry, as well as magnificent oak and elm.
"I hope we shall not have another river to cross like that," observed my
mother, after keeping silence for some time, while she was endeavouring
to recover from her alarm.
"Not so broad a one, Kate," answered my father, "but there are several
streams which we must manage to get over either by fords or ferry-boats,
for I doubt whether we shall find any bridges as yet put up to drive
over, though they will come in good time, I have no doubt. We run no
danger just now, and I don't suppose that we shall have the least
difficulty in crossing any stream in our way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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