Part Two of Three. The
following was taken from the Hartford Herald, published October 30, 1907.
THRILLING ACCOUNT
OF
EARLY TIMES IN GREEN RIVER COUNTRY
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HARTFORD IN THE LONG AGO
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Graphic Narrative of Dangerous
Travel and Encounters With Indians
_____________________________________
(Continued from last week)
My situation
now was mournfully interesting; I was alone in that trackless forest, two
hundred miles from any human habitation that I knew of, with no weapon except
my hunting knife, no clothes other than those I had on, no blanket to cover me
and worse than all these my gun was gone. I endeavored to ascertain the depth
of the river thinking I might possibly dive down and recover it, but judging
from the steepness of the bank, the locality, etc., I concluded that such an effort
would be folly.
I left that
place with a sad heart and turned my steps toward the spot where Davis and I
had constructed our raft, for besides being in the destitute condition
mentioned above, I had no provisions and no salt, and I was getting hungry and
I remembered that we had left some four or five venison hams at the place
where the boat had left us, and I returned there intending to furnish myself
with four or five days provisions; but “misfortunes never come singly,” a maxim
the truth of which was verified in this instance, for when I arrived I found
that the buzzards and wolves had been ahead of me, and had not left me a single
mouthful.
It was
necessary now for me to commence traveling. I had heard that there was a
station on Green river called Vienna (now called Calhoun) some fifteen or
twenty miles from the Yellow Banks (Owensboro) and that there was a trace
leading from one place to the other. I determined to make my way up the river to
the Yellow Banks and thence out to Vienna. I walked steadily all that day and must have
traveled forty miles. I stopped to camp out for the night. I was very hungry
and had nothing to eat nor had I eaten anything for more than two days. Although
hundreds of deer wild turkey, squirrels, rabbits, etc. had attracted my attention during the day yet
I had no way of killing any of them. At night however when I stopped I was
fortunate enough to kill a skunk, or polecat, as I always call it with a stone.
I skinned and dressed it as nicely as I could and cooked it over the coals. I
made my supper that night off of the polecat but I assure you I have never since
that time had the slightest desire to renew the acquaintances which my stomach
then formed with that animal.
On the
evening of the third day I arrived at a point a little above the mouth of Green
river and made a raft for the purpose of crossing over to the Kentucky side. At
this time no land could be seen near the mouth of the river, but, by the most
desperate exertions I succeeded in getting my raft across the Ohio, and out into
the timber on the Kentucky side, above the mouth of Green river. I worked my
wily on the raft for several miles through the timber until I reached the land
and then gladly left my raft. A greater portion of the country between the
Yellow Banks and the mouth of Green river is low, and most of it was at that
time covered with water. Very frequently I came to ravines which it was necessary
for me to swim, but I could tell the shallowest places by the tops of cane bushes
projecting above the water. I reached the Yellow Banks in safety and spent a
clay drying my clothes and watching for a boat. During the day two boats passed
down. I endeavored by every manner of means in my power to get the boats to
take me aboard but at that time it was dangerous for boats to land on account
of the Indians and I was passed by without being noticed. They regarded me as a
mere decoy to induce them to land so that the Indians might murder the whole
crew, and plunder the boat. This was so frequently done then that it was very seldom
a boat ever landed after leaving the Falls until it had passed into the
Mississippi.
The next
day I started for Vienna. My breakfast that morning as well as my supper the
night before consisted of a “possum” which I had caught. I cooked it without
salt or pepper. I ate it with great relish. It was much better than the polecat
and I have liked possum ever since that time.
I started
for Vienna, but being cloudy I got bewildered in the woods, and having passed
the same buffalo bed three different times I concluded to take out from the
Ohio river until I came to the trace leading from the Falls (Louisville) to Nashville,
for I had heard of such a place as Nashville but had indefinite ideas a to
where it was.
The night
after I left the Yellow Banks I stayed in the flats of the north branch of
Panther creek. I found a hollow tree with barely enough dry ground in front of it
for me to build a fire. I slept inside of the tree and my fire blazing in front
of the opening made it warm. It was cold and raining out so I enjoyed a
comfortable nights rest in the hollow tree and left it reluctantly next morning,
for I did not know where would be my next resting place, but my spirits were
buoyed up at the thought and firm belief that I would,
that day, see some habitation or come across some trace of an
human being.
I traveled
on that day, endeavoring as well as I could without a compass to keep a south
course. I traveled until late in the afternoon, and was beginning to despair of
seeing anything to bid me hope for the better, when suddenly I discovered tracks
of cattle in the woods. This comforted me with the hope that I should soon see
human faces. In a short time I heard a bell. I left the trace in which I was
then traveling and went to find the bell, thinking that the cattle might be at
home, but I was disappointed and I could not make them go in any particular direction
so I left them and returned to the trace. I wandered on through the water, or flats, until nearly sundown. I was
weary, hungry, wet, and cold, and, as I sat resting on a log, I beheld the sun
sinking behind the western horizon in all its glorious splendor, and it
occurred to me that probably I then saw “my last of suns go down on me.” I
determined, however, that I would endeavor to reach the “high ground,” or at least find as dry a place as I could to camp that
night. I neglected that day my usual precaution of gathering small pieces of
wood, or punk, by which to light a fire at night, and I was fearful that I could
not build a fire that evening. I struggled on through the water until I reached
the bank of Rough creek, which by the moonlight I could see was quite a good-sized
stream. Suddenly, to my unbounded joy, I heard the sound of an ax as if some
one was chopping wood on the other side of the creek, and listening, 1
distinctly heard children’s voices at play in the town of Hartford. I had never
heard of the place before. I hallooed as loud as I could, but could make no one
hear me. I waited very impatiently until everything became quite and made another
effort to make myself heard. I succeeded and some one answered me. It was a Mr.
Rhoades who ferried me across the creek in a large trough.
I was as
hospitably received us I could have expected under the circumstances. My
destitute and ragged condition, my strange garb and appearance, and my almost incredible
story made me, as I discovered an object of suspicion. There were at that time twenty-seven families living in Hartford and they were
extremely cautious whom they admitted into their midst. This was of course a wise
and necessary precaution on account of the unfriendly tribes of Indians that
infested the whole surrounding country.
I spoke but
little, however, of myself, but always told the same story when questioned by
any one. I spoke frequently and deplored the loss of my gun.
(Concluded next week)
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