It was early in April when they entered the unknown forests of the northern part of the State of Maine.  The snow was deep, especially there among those northern mountains, where it lies sometimes till late in the month of May.  At that season of the year they were liable to another difficulty besides the depth of the snow, which they would not have been exposed to if it had been in the heart of February, or the month of August; which was, the thaws of that season of the year, occasioned by frequent rains, softening the snow to that degree that it could not bear them; consequently at almost every step they sunk to the knees and waists in its depths.  Besides this, the small brooks and rills which are very numerous in that mountainous country, forming the head waters of many a stream passing down through the state of Maine to the sea, began to swell and rush from the mountains to the lower grounds.  These, however deep and rapid, they were compelled to wade, while the ice and snow thickened the waters.  Consequently, they were continually wet, both night and day.  In this situation they were compelled to sleep, wherever night overtook them, scraping away the snow in the midst of some thicket of hemlocks, spreading beneath them the boughs of the trees, when they had built a fire of such dry wood as the surrounding wilderness afforded.  At length they hit upon a stream, which however was too large to be waded, and empties into the Andriscoggin river, near its head, in the now county of Oxford, a wild and still unsettled region in its northern parts.  This creek they followed down till it united with the Andriscoggin: judging very properly, that if they should follow the course of the river, they should ere long arrive at some settlement before they reached the sea.[9]

        At sight of this stream they instantly hit upon the expedient of building a raft, sufficiently large to bear themselves and baggage.  This they soon constructed of dry logs, which they found in abundance along the shore, laying them side by side, fastened together by poles, passing crosswise, tied down with withs, made of the beach [sic] and hickory saplins.  Thus prepared, they launched away upon the unknown stream, highly gratified with a mode of travelling which promised both a spedier [sic] and an easier way than to wade through deep snows, brooks and perpetual forests.  It proved a rapid stream, which hurried them on at a great rate.  They had not, however, proceeded many hours, steering the raft with poles, when they perceived themselves swept along at an increased velocity, the cause of which they were not then able to ascertain.  But it was not long before they could distinctly hear the roar of a cataract below them; but whether it proceeded from water rushing down the mountains, or from falls in the Andriscoggin, they knew not.  But this subject was soon cleared up, for on coming round a point of woods, occasioned by a short bend in the stream, they saw in full view, and not many rods distant, that the Andriscoggin, in which they were, was precipitated down a ledge of rocks.[10]  They saw themselves already in the awful suck of the falls, the water furious in its descent, rejoicing in its own uproar and confusion.  No possible way of escape presented itself, till just when eternity was about to open to their view its dreaded mysteries, a tree which grew on the bank had fallen exactly out into the stream, maintaining its position by the strong hold its roots still had of the bank.  Into the top of this tree they all instantly sprang, holding fast to its boughs with all the energy that mingled hope and despair could inspire, while the current in its fury straightened out their legs on its surface, as if anxious to hurl them down to the abyss below.  But they succeeded in maintaining their hold, and of finally reaching the show, by crawling [begin p. 6] along on the body of the tree; rejoicing, though wet, and terribly frightened.  They were happy for a moment that they had escaped death, which but an instant before was ready to destroy them in its dreary cave.  The raft, upon which had been placed all their provisions, arms and amunition, tools and clothing, went down the cataract.  One gun, a powderhorn, and the great coat of her father, which he had on, was all that was saved.  The gun and powderhorn he had thrown on shore a moment before springing into the top of the tree.  This gun and the amunition, with the bullets which they had in their pockets, was now their all of early support and dependance.  Though the powder had been a little wet by throwing it ashore, yet this evil they soon contrived to remedy, by spreading it on the crown of a hat, so as to dry it in the sun.  This expedient would have succeeded in preventing many a pang of sorrow and of anguish, had not one of their number unluckily, in snapping the gun too near the hat, set fire to a grain of the powder, when the whole instantly flashed, and with it disappeared their last hope.

        To construct another raft was now impossible, as their hatchets lay at the bottom of the gulf.  But her fathe being naturally of a cheerful spirit, encouraged his companions in trouble, by telling them, that to give themselves up to despair could bring them no relief, and that the best way was, while strength yet remained, to pursue the course of the Andriscoggin, and if possible reach some settlement before starvation should finish its work.  Hope, that seldom forsakes the human breast, now quickened them to new exertions.  They set forward with hasty steps, over vales and mountains, untrodden by the foot of man; but hunger and weariness at length began to paralyse their progress.  But as they went on, toward night on a certain day, they had just as it became dark, scrambled up a steep ascent, and coming to its top concluded to encamp, as it was now too dark to proceed further.  But in the morning, what was their surprise to find that two or three rods more in the direction they were going, would have precipitated them down a ledge of rocks several hundred feet, which overhung the small river, whose stream they were pursuing.

        The buds and barks of trees, as those of the birch and basswood, with the wintergreen, which they sometimes found on the sunny side of the hills, furnished their only relief, but afforded a small defence against the all-conquering power of unsatisfied appetite.  The lad who had been the cause of this disastrous adventure, more than the others, began to fail of his strength, as several days had now transpired.  His limbs soon became no longer able to perform their offices, he wept and complained of dizziness in his head; his eyes wandered, the symptoms of starvation were upon him, and appeared to be the vortex toward which they were rapidly hastening.  They were now compelled to uphold the young man by walking one on either side of him, as he could no longer stand alone.  His feeble wailings were grievous to hear, while the images of loved objects at home, parents, brothers, sisters, and the blest comforts of life, danced before his confused imagination, but never more to be tasted, leaving, as they flitted across the naked memory, pangs of unsatisfied desire.

        Their situation had now become desperate; but to Beach they looked with intense eagerness, as he was the leader of the party, for further counsel.  He now proposed that himself and one more, who were the two least affected by famine, should seek a convenient tree, with a hollow on one side of it, where they could place the boy, and leaving one of their number with him, the two most able were to go on, and if possible find the habitations of man.

        They found a tree, such as suited their views, where they placed him, and wrapping the great coat of her father about him, they left him in charge of one of their number, while they consoled him with promises of soon returning with something to eat, and that he should yet see his parents.  It was in the morning, after having spent the night in the best manner they could, amind a thicket situated under a large rock, without fire to warm themselves, that they started off, considering it the last effort which their strength was capable of performing, to save themselves from perishing in the wilderness.  They travelled that day, following the river, with all their might, till the sun had gone down, but no habitation as [begin p. 7] yet blested their sight.  Yet they still pressed forward; when soon, to their unspeakable joy, just as the twilight was fading into darkness, a cleared field opened suddenly to their view, at one end of which they perceived a small log barn; but there was no house in sight, nor sound of human voice.  Into this barn they gladly made their way, when still more fortunate, they found it filled with rye in the sheaf, upon which they seized with rapacity, rubbing the heads in their hands, and blowing away the chaff from the kernels of the grain which they ate, till in a measure they found their hunger assuaged.

        They now lay down in the straw, which to them was a bed of down, having slept on nothing better than hemlock boughs spread on the ground amid the snow, which served also as their only covering during fourteen days and nights, the time since they had left the camp, where they found the boy.  It was the sixth day from their setting out when they lost their raft, during which the barks and buds of the trees and wintergreens had been their only support, as before stated.

        But as soon as day-light appeared, they crawled from their lair in the straw, to look about, not doubting but inhabitants must be near.  They were not long ere they discovered the path which led off from the barn.  This they followed, but had proceeded not above half a mile through the woods, when they heard the yelling of dogs, who had scented them.  This showed that they had found the dwellings of man.  But there was one house only, and no other except at a great distance down the river.  The owner of this was a man of considerable property, but had removed from the settled parts of the state of Maine near the sea, to avoid having anything to do in the war, and had therefore hidden himself in this sequestered spot, far from the haunts and skirmishing parties of either side of the question.

        At this house they were kindly received, their perishing condition redressed, their minds and bodies comforted with food, with fire and sleep.  But on coming to this house, they immediately related the fearful situation in which they had left the other two, the poor lad especially.  Wherefore it was instantly resolved that every exertion should be made to save them.  Accordingly, in a few minutes three stout men, well armed and with provisions, set out to rescue them, following back the track of the other two who had just come in.  They now rushed on with all possible haste, animated in the highest degree with such feelings as benevolence inspired, their dogs following in their track.  But when they had proceed [sic] about half the distance to where the two had been left, when they met the man with whom the boy had been entrusted, nearly expiring with fatigue and hunger.  He could scarcely walk from weakness, and as he groped his way he moaned and cried as a child would have done in a similar situation.  This man they now fed sparingly, gave him a small sip of rum, which they had taken with them, and left him to pursue his way to the land of the living.  They had, however, questioned him in the meantime respecting the boy with whom he had been left, to which he replied that he was alive when he saw him last, and lay where he had been left, by the side of the tree.  They now hastened on to save if possible the life of the wretched and forsaken youth.  The man who had been left with him, it appeared, had very soon deserted the fainting child, in hopes of saving his own life, in which he succeeded, travelling all night as well as he could, following the tracks of the others in the snow.[11]

        In the afternoon of the same say, they reached the place where was left the object of their solicitude, who they saw at a distance, stretched full length at the foot of the tree.  Their hearts beat with alarm, when they saw he did not move at the noise of their approach among the brush and snow.  But on coming quite up to him, and stooping down, they found him dead.  His spirit had departed - he had finished his journey alone.  Here in the horrid shades of an unfrequented wood, beneath the same tree where Beach had left him, with the hope of saving his life, they dug his grave with sticks as well as they could, and buried him there in his clothes as he was, with the great coat for his shroud.  This operation took them till night, when they struck a fire from the flint of one of the [begin p. 8] guns, and gathered wood from the fallen and dry trees, where they remained till morning.

        Thus ends the history of that unfortunate boy, JOHN HALL, whose most miserable end was the result of acting independent of parental advice and authority, the beaten road of thousands to an early grave.[12]

        From this place her father, after remaining two weeks to restore in some measure his emaciated frame, returned to Weston, to bear the heavy tidings of the death of the lad to his parents, and to the bosom of his own anxious family.

We plan to present the next installment of Priest's narrative - entitled "Imprisonment and Trial of Her Father by the Whig Court" - in the Winter, 2002, issue.

Josiah Priest's Stories Of The Early Settlers:

The Original Account Of TIMOTHY BEACH⁵

As Told By His Grandson

Part II

Submitted By

John H. Beach

26 Ridgeland Road

Yonkers, New York 10710

john_h_beach@compuserve.com

Introduction And Notes By Eugene H. Beach, Jr.

Introduction

      We herewith present the second installment of Josiah Priest's account of his maternal grandfather, Timothy Beach⁵, Joseph⁴, Ephraim³, Nathan², John¹.  We shall refrain from further preliminary remarks, having thoroughly covered the history of this narrative in the previous issue.

Imprisonment and Trial of her Father by the Whig Court[13]

        [Continue p. 8] Now commenced a series of troubles of the most alarming and distressing nature, which fell upon the family of her father, arising out of the rescue of John Hall, as just related.  That he had gone on the business of recovering and restoring the lad to his inconsolable parents, was for a while attempted to be kept a secret.  But this was impossible in those searching times, as every man assumed the right to know and inquire after his neighbor's movements and business.[14]  Accordingly it was soon known to both the Whigs and Tories, that Beach had gone to bring back the boy from the army.  On which account an infavorable impression was made on the minds of the friends of the Revolution respecting his principles - the Tories having no doubts but his mind was congenial with theirs.  Wherefore the moment of his return was their signal to sound his mind upon the subject of the war.[15]  A certain CAPTAIN MALLET, was the leading agent of the nefarious attempt, who had already a considerable company secretly enlisted under him, destined to join the British army, then in possession of Long-Island.  But the attempt was fruitless; for on the evening of the same day they had thought to secure his approbation, this same Captain Mallet and his newly enlisted company crossed over to the Island, where he was to receive a stipulated sum for each man's enlistment, from the British General; but to the dupes of Mallet this bargaining and speculation upon their heads was unknown.

        But the neighboring Whites had watched the operations of Mallet that day, and knew the moment of his departure to the Island, but dare not attack him, as their numbers were unequal.  They followed him, however, silently and unseen, as it was night, in a small boat, and watched him till they had ascertained the house where he entered, and managing in such a manner as to get close to a window of the room in which he was, they were enabled to single him out, while engaged in a game of cards, and drove a bullet through his body, where he fell, a monument of vengeance [sic] to the insulted genius of the liberties of his country.  The whigs now fled to their boats safe, and returned to their homes long before morning.

        But the next day after the death of Mallet, her father was arrested on a suspicion that he was not true to the cause of the Revolution, predicated partly upon the fact that he had instigated the desertion of John Hall, and other supposed acts, which they calculated upon as further evidence of his active opposition to that war.[16]

        The public mind at such a time as that, could not well appreciate those feelings of his heart, which caused him to yield in the very face of perils, to the persuasion of bereaved parents, but commenced a prosecution against him, in which not only his character, the well being of his family, but his very life  was involved, and at stake.  At the set time an investigation of his conduct proceeded, but the prosecutors not being able to prove that which had not been done by him, namely, that of having had enlisting orders, and enlisting men from among his countrymen to join the standard of the enemy, they could not touch his life, but he was cast into prison for one year, as a punishment for his interference in the case of the boy.  They did not put him in close confinement, but admitted bail as surety for his stay, while he had the liberty of the town, which was Windham, in Connecticut.  But  [begin p. 9] while confined to the boundaries of the prison, the patriotism and fealty of his heart to the Revolutionary cause was put to the following test:

        A party of loyalists who had made themselves acquainted with his situation, and not doubting but his mind was highly exasperated against the whig party, attempted to seduce him to pass the boundaries of his confinement, and go to the enemy.  They portrayed to him in glowing language, the glory of the royal master's cause, while they reduced that of the whigs to a thing of infamous rebellion; they magnified the severity of his present confinement, pouring contempt upon the authority which had thus adjudged him.  Such arguments they used, together with an insatiable desire to be liberated from his confinement, with the consideration also that the loss of a year's time, would subject him and his family to wants and sufferings.  All of which, crowding at once upon his soul, staggered him with respect to the course he ought to pursue.

        The tories perceived the advantage their reasonings had obtained over him, by the hesitancy he manifested, when they redoubled their zeal, and exhibited the certain glory and emolument he would acquire in the service of the kind, George III., as an officer in the royal army, of no less rank than captain, with the prospect of certain advancement.  At length a thrill of joy, consequent on such a proposal, so wrought upon his imagination, and quickened the pulse of pleasure, that under a cursed delusion, the result of arguments raised from false premises, urged home by the clamor of many mouths at once, he consented.

        Now the point was gained, the Rubicon was passed; an immediate departure to the island was insisted upon, where the British army lay encamped, with which he as readily complied.  But now dark and ominous thoughts began their work of gloom upon his soul; an indescribable shuddering deep within, shook the foundation of his spirit; for as soon as he found himself beyond the prescribed limits, to which his word of honor was the only barrier, he began to feel the overwhelming turpitude of such an act, which, if persisted in, would soon so situate him, that retreat would become impossible, and that he would be compelled to aid in the murder of his own neighbors, kindred and countrymen; a stigma would fasten on his character, as a vulture on its victim; it would be said, BEACH has betrayed the confidence reposed in him, not for the love of personal liberty alone, but for the horrible purpose of treason.  "This is too much; it cannot - shall not be."  Such was the language of his heart, though no sound passed between his clenched teeth; while the glory of his country, struggling for liberty, flashed a ruddy beam full upon his heart, when to live or died in the immortal strife, was his full and last resolve.  He stopped: "I shall go no farther," was his loud and determined cry - "so help me God."[17]

        Here the company came to a full halt; and perceiving the die was cast, commenced a torrent of abuse and reproach, mingled with curses.  But he heeded them not, his return was instantly performed, for he ran as it had been for his life, nor was it known that he had been away, till the story fell from his own lips, long after it transpired.

        This year which had been fraught with events deeply mortifying, made at length its exit behind the curtain of time; but on the entrance of another, a fairer sky presented; he was restored to confidence, and honored with office and trust, among his compatriots of that war.

We hope to include the next installment of Priest's account, entitled "Her Father Passes through the Wilderness;..." beginning with the first issue for 2003. 

Josiah Priest's Stories Of The Early Settlers:

The Original Account Of TIMOTHY BEACH⁵

As Told By His Grandson

Part III

Submitted By

John H. Beach

26 Ridgeland Road

Yonkers, New York 10710

john_h_beach@compuserve.com

Introduction And Notes By Eugene H. Beach, Jr.

Introduction

      We herewith present the third installment of Josiah Priest's account of his maternal grandfather, Timothy Beach⁵, Joseph⁴, Ephraim³, Nathan², John¹.  Long-time readers should find this portion of Priest's narrative familiar as it forms the basis of several subsequent accounts we have previously presented, See:  Jay Gould, History of Delaware County, Keeny & Gould (1856), pp. 182-191, reprinted in Beach Family Journal, Vol. VIII, No. 1, pp. 1123-1127; History of Delaware County, New York, W.W. Munsell & Co. (1880), pp. 284-285, reprinted in Beach Family Journal, Vol. III, No. 2, pp. 314; and Francis Whiting Halsey, The Old New York Frontier, Charles Scribner's Sons (1917), pp. 347-353, reprinted in Beach Family Journal, Vol. III, No. 2, pp. 314-316.  As we have noted previously, however, all of these later versions of the story vary slightly in their particulars.  Thus, despite its length, Priest's original account is worthy of presentation if for no other reason than that it is presumably the most complete and accurate history of Timothy Beach's adventures on the New York frontier.

Her Father passes through the Wilderness; Employs an

Indian Guide; in Danger of being Assassinated; Exa-

mines the Lands; Returns to his Family.

[Continue p. 9] At the close of the Revolutionary war, Mrs. Priest[18] was about fifteen years of age; she had seen the distant hills illuminated by the burning of Fairfield - had felt the chilling horrors inspired by war and bloodshed - had listened to the roar [Begin p. 10] of cannon from the port of New-York, with trembling; had marked the strong agonies on the countenance of her mother, while the life of her father hung on the caprice of a moment; how welcome, therefore, was the news of peace.  From State to State, the joyful tidings flew; shouts were heard from every quarter - young men and maidens, old men and children, hailed with transport, the day which announced our country free, and gave us a name and being among the nations of the earth.

        Immediately after the close of that war, a spirit of emigration prevailed among the people of the New-England States, toward the Western wilderness, which still continues, and will continue, till the Rocky mountains are passed, and the shore of the great Pacific receives the augmenting tide of human population - where thousands of years before Columbus discovered this country, were people, nations and languages, now unknown, but in their stead, are found, spread over the immense regions of the west, their works of warlike defense, their tumili [sic] and pyramids of earth, as are found in all other parts of the globe.  Fifty years will scarcely have passed away, when this will be accomplished, cities will arise, where now the wild howling of beasts of prey are only heard, and villas, with hamlets, farms, roads, railways, and canals, with all the turmoil of a dense population will be seen where now the wild ranges of the aboriginal hunter spread abroad, over hill and dale.  From these boundaries, the living flood of human population will flow south till the mighty Oregon shall be filled with a civilized and religious race; the Indian will be reduced to cultivation and government; the oceans, the Atlantic and Pacific, will be united by a ship canal across the Isthmus of Darien, when China and Europe shall meet in America, as it was immediately after the flood of Noah.  The frozen regions of the North, with its ten thousand lakes, will become navigable, the Indians civilized, their furs and fisheries more widely useful; roads will be constructed, so that the utmost bounds of the continent will be passed even to Russia, and all mankind become as familiar with each other as are the countries of Christendom at the present time.  The bigotry of South America and of Mexico will pass away, and the rational rights of man be known, appreciated and enjoyed by those now miserably deceived portions of our continent.[19]

        Her father also partook of this general impulse, sold his farm which he had acquired after abandoning a seafaring life, and prepared to remove to the banks of the wild Susquehanah - the hunting grounds of the Delawares.  But before he actually removed his family, he took the precaution to go and explore the lands of that river.  On this journey her eldest brother, then a lad of about twelve years, accompanied him.[20]

        After crossing the broken and wild region of country lying between the North River and the sea, they came to a place on the Hudson called Catskill, where a few families had already settled.[21]  At this place he entered the woods, with a view of coming to the Susquehannah at a place then known by the appellation of Wattles' ferry, a distance of nearly one hundred miles.[22]  It was, however, considered dangerous to penetrate that distance without a guide, as there were little or no traits of human industry to mark the way, being almost a continued wilderness.  Here he was so fortunate as to find a half breed Indian, who knew the way, and was willing to become his conductor, appearing to be a fleet, shrewd and intelligent native.

        The land which he wished to examine in particular, belonged to COLONEL HARPER, who had, as is well known, taken an active part in the border warfare with the Indians in Tryon County, on the Susquehannah, and was situated some where near what is still called Ochquaga, an ancient Indian town.  To this place the guide was to accompany him, at a stipulated price.[23]

        They left that place on horseback, winding their way amid the woods, on their course from Catskill, which now passes through Cairo, in Greene county, where also were a few families scattered along beneath the mountains, who had returned or remained after the war, as all that region had been traversed by the depredating Indians and Tories.  From the place now called Cairo, they pursued the [Begin p. 11] Palawva route, which lay through a wilderness of the most hideous description; passing over a rugged and mountainous world - but is now thickly settled with enterprising farms, mechanics and merchants.

        The first day after leaving Catskill they advanced to somewhere near the place which is now called Osbornville[24], and as near as can be calculated a distance of about twenty-five miles.  Here they encamped for the night, having gathered grass for the horses on the margin of the head waters of the Schoharie creek.  Along this stream, from thence, even down to a place called Breakabin, or the place of GENERAL PATCHIN, the same whose captivity among the Indians, we have sometime since published, there runs a gloomy gulf, the haunt of wolves, bears and panthers, at that time, as well as of deer and some few elk.  Beneath a huge clump of hemlocks near the creek, they scraped away the brush, built a fire, refreshed themselves from their sacks of provisions, and from a small green glass bottle, which had been filled with the true West India Jamaica, an article altogether, at that time, superior to the same article we now use.[25]  They now addressed themselves to rest, beneath heaven's canopy, so much of it as could be seen bending over the narrow space between the hills which embrace the head of the Schoharie Creek.  The hour of midnight had nearly arrived, the fire had waned to a few coals, amid the ashes; when the shrill but loud and terrifying scream of some animal awoke the slumberers from their dreams.  They now listened, when again it struck the ear from another quarter, but somewhat nearer.  The guide, being an Indian, knew instantly what kind of animal it was, and whispered "A Painter - a Painter;" meaning a panther.  With its habits, and the best manner of encountering this animal, he was perfectly acquainted, and therefore seizing his rifle, examined the load and the priming, bid his companions be silent, but to cover the fire.  During this time the screams of the creature continued at short intervals, but still nearer.  It was, he said, calling its mate, on account of the scented game - themselves and horses - with the view of an attack by a leap from some tree, or from some favorable position on the ground.  The agility of this creature is not exceeded by any other animal of the whole earth, it being able to spring, when hard pushed, or frightened, nearly forty feet on a level.[26]  Their strength is amazing, as well as their ferocity, and untamableness of nature.

        The Indian had directed Beach to have his rifle in order, as he might have use for it, although not much acquainted with its powers as a hunter.  He did so, when they remained silent, not even breathing as loud as was natural, listening with the expectation of more yells.  But in this they were disappointed, as no sound of the animal could be heard.  As to this, the Indian said, in a whisper, that so much the more was their danger, and that the animal was creeping on its belly toward them for a leap, unless it had gone entirely off.  They waited, however, but about fifteen minutes, when there came suddenly on the darkness of the night, the continued bleat of a deer, together with the suppressed yells of some creature which had the mastery of it, and was rending it to the death.  Now was the time for the Indian, who instantly, while the animal was destroying the deer, bent low down and glided off in that direction as silent as a spectre of darkness; while Beach in the same manner, and as near as he could followed after, rather shily [sic., i.e., shyly] however, feeling inwardly a strong reluctance to venture very near the scene of action.

        It was now but a few moments, while the feeble cry of the deer, still struggling with its enemy, was heard, when the flash and report of the Indian's shot, gave notice that the crisis had arrived.  All was now still, except the rustling of some creature on the leaves and dry brush, which showed that a change had passed over the parties of the conflict.  The Indian stirred not till all was still, when he gave a yell, such as Indians do when the battle is won, and at the same time returned to the fire, and reloaded.

        They now gathered from the shaggy trunk of a yellow birtch [sic] growing near, an armful of its dry and pendant bark, of which they made several torches, and lighting one, ventured boldly to the spot, being assured by the Indian that all danger was over; for, he added, he had put a bullet between the eyes of the creature [Begin p. 12]  But this proved not exactly correct, as on coming to the place, there lay stretched beside the deer, which was still breathing faintly, a panther of the largest description, having a shot exactly opposite the heart, which, on examination, was found to have pierced the lungs.

        The deer they now put out of its pain, by dispatching it in as quick a manner as possible.  They then dragged the animal to the fire, but delayed to skin it till the morning.  During the residue of the night they kept up a huge fire, feeling no desire to sleep, being so thoroughly roused by the incident which we have just related, keeping up the spirits by now and then a draught from the green bottle of Jamaica.

        In the morning they skinned the panther, which measured eight feet from the tip of the nose to the end of the tail.[27]  Its hide they carried with them, as a trophy of the adventure.  But the deer they left as it was, except that they cut a steak from its haunches, for their breakfast, which they easily cooked over the coals.

        But after the panther was killed, the residue of the night was passed by no means in silence; for the wolves had scented the blood of the conflict, and ran howling about till nearly daylight.  And also the scream of another panther was heard several times, but at a great distance.  These noises were but sport for the Indian, which he often imitated at the top of his voice, but effectually prevented their too near approach by the violence of the fire, and the frequent shots of their guns.

        Thus passed the first night of their journey in the woods.  No other incident worthy of record took place during the residue of their wilderness trip, although out several nights, except the sight of plenty of deer, and the howlings of the wolves, where they very much abounded in those early times.

        When they first were awakened by the screams of the animal, they could easily have frightened it away, by firing their guns and the rousing of their fire; but the Indian wished an encounter, as he had no fears about its issue.

        They at length came out at the desired place on the Susquehannah, where the river is now crossed by the Unadilla bridge, which place at first was called Wattles' Ferry, as before mentioned.

        From this place, after a day's halt, they pursued their way down the river, having no other road than the path of the Indians, to the lands of Harper.  About sunset they encamped for the night at a place which appeared convenient, on a little eminence, near the bank of the river, not far from Bainbridge.  At this spot, while preparing a place to sleep among the leaves and brush, they heard below a splash in the water, which somewhat alarmed them, not knowing from what cause it might proceed.  But presently a small batteau made its appearance, owned and maned by a Mr. Herrick, who had been down the river on an exploring tour.  Here they all encamped for the night; but before they parted in the morning, an exchange of one of Beach's horses for Herrick's boat and provisions took place, Herrick paying the difference.  The next morning her father directed the guide to take the remaining horse and proceed to the place known and described by the Indian, as he was acquainted through all that country of woods, as a place where they were again to encamp, when night should overtake them, while Beach and his little son glided down the gloomy river in the batteau.  In many places, while passing along its rapid current, it appeared as if the river had come to an end, on the account of some sudden bend in the stream.  At other places the mountains, clothed to their summits with dark and dismal forests, came abruptly down to the very brink of the water, while on the opposite side lay large tracts of alluvial flats, which for ages had been the home and hunting grounds of the red men of the woods, when arrows and hatchets of stone were their only arms.

        They arrived at the place appointed; their guide was there; the sun was setting in silent majesty, kissing the tops of the lone mountains, with his red and level beams; twilight, the harbinger of both night and day, was bringing darkness on.  Again their bed of brush was laid beneath the boughs of the thick leaved forest, their fire built, their supper taken, and each being weary, laid him down to rest.

        At this place Beach had reason to suspect that himself and little son were the ob-[Begin p. 13]jects of assassination; as on laying down he observed the guide more than usually particular in the choice of the spot where he intended to compose himself to sleep, and that he kept his hatchet close to his side, a thing which he had not been as careful to do at any other time.  Accordingly, during the whole of that night, her father dared not indulge in sleep for a moment; only pretending to do so, while with half closed eyes he watched the motions of the Indian by the light of the fire.  Several times he saw him move his hand toward the tomahawk, when her father would rouse a little, as if he happened to wake just at that time, when the perfidious Indian would seem to sleep again.

        Morning at length came rushing from the east, whose orient beams of light broke and scattered the hated spell, which had conjured up fears and terrors in sad reality, amid the dreary darkness of that fearful night.  At this place they again fixed on a spot known and described by the Indian, at which they were again to meet, but at noon instead of night.  Here they parted from their guide, the Indian following his own way on horseback, while Beach descended the river in his boat.

        At noon, as agreed, he found the spot, knowing it by come certain mark described; but the guide did not appear.  Fears were now entertained that the Indian was about to prove treacherous, and that he had gone to some place where he knew that he could find villians like himself and his own nation, to aid in the murder and robbery of her father, seeing he had not been able to effect it during the past night.  In all these conjectures he was the more confirmed, on examining his little son, whether the quide had questioned him at any time about money; when to his surprise he found this was the case, and also that the boy had innocently told him that his father possessed a thousand dollars in gold, and that it was with him; but how to escape the danger was unknown.

        From this place, during the afternoon, he as silently as possible dropped down the stream to where the land was which he intended to view; where finding a convenient place, he ran the canoe in among some thick willows, so as to hide it from the Indians, if they were about there.[28]  By this time it was night, when he again sought out a place not far from where he had hid the canoe, to sleep; scaping away the leaves, but not daring to strike a fire, lest if there were Indians, they might the more easily find him.

        During this night, he was greatly disturbed in his sleep by a dream, in which he saw his father, who had been dead many years, standing by him, looking very earnestly upon his face, and saying in an earnest, impressive and commanding manner, "Timothy, go back, go back!" twice repeating it, so that on awaking, he found the impression was as strong on his mind, as if it had been reality.[29]

        The next day he examined the land, wading through nettles, brambles and vines, along the margin of the river, the evidence of a good soil; but notwithstanding it had cost him so much pains to visit this spot, he did not fancy it.  It is likely from the behaviour of his guide, and from the impression of the dream, that his mind was unfit for observation, as he spent but a short time in looking about, but returned to the place where he had lodged the night before.  Here he again encamped beneath the open heavens, with no other covering than the tops of the trees, and without fire, for the same reasons as before.  At this place, as the night previous, his father came a second time in a dream, and angrily repeated the former injunction, "Timothy, go back, go back!" which he now, on awaking in the morning, considered as a warning from the spirit of his father; on which account he determined not to settle so far down the river, which was at least forty miles from any inhabitants.

        He now hastened back again as fast as possible, still wondering what had become of his guide and horse.[30]  The second day had nearly worn away, in toiling up the rapid river, by means of a setting pole[31], when on coming near the shore, in order to take advantage of the shallowness of the water - the bushes being very thick in that place, so that a person could not be discovered at ten feet distance; - here all at once, without any warning, the guide announced himself by a loud and horrid yell, which reverberated up and down the shores of the river, with repeated [Begin p. 14] echoes, the most dismal.  But no Indians appeared with him.  It was desirable, however, to ascertain whether he had seen any since he had been absent.  To ask him the question direct, he knew would be of no use; he therefore requested to know if he were not hungry, as he must be of necessity, having been gone nearly two days, unless he had been with Indians, at some place where they dwelt.  But to his dismay, when he said to him, in a friendly tone of voice: Are you not hungry? will you not have something to eat? - his answer was, NO, in a very gruff and peevish manne