University of Virginia Library

24. CHAPTER XXIV.,
Wherein we travel to the mountains, and I tell
what we meet there.

I certainly enjoyed my Virginia travel
vastly. We stopped a week at Richmond,
where I received the bachelor
hospitality of Archbold, who had a big
house, and supported a dozen or more
of black bond-servants, in lazy independence.
From thence we went by
the canal-packet to Lynchburg, a queer
old town, picturesquely imbedded in a
knot of hills. From that place we
traveled by mail-coach to the Southwest,
stopping to breakfast at Buford's,
where the inn-keeper welcomed us with
peach-brandy, and to look at the Peaks
of Otter. After several days of travel
over the most execrable roads, since
that time replaced in use by a railway,
we arrived at Evesham, the shire town
of Wythe. Here I was heartily glad
to learn that we should pursue the remainder
of our journey on horseback.

After purchasing a couple of short
rifled guns from a gunsmith in the village,
with their accountrements, and
dispatching them before us, we looked
about for horses. A written notice,
posted on the inn door, brought to our
view, in a few hours, a choice collection
of all the halt, blind, and aged
hacks for miles around, and served to
display the eloquence and acuteness
of the sharpest horse-jockeys in the
world, those of Yorkshire not excepted.
So soon as we had dismissed them,
a better kind of horses made their ap
pearance, and we finally obtained two
very decent cobs, at a moderate price,
the one I was to ride being held at sixteen
pounds, English money.

We crossed several mountains on
the following day, and arrived at evening,
after a ride of forty-nine miles, at
the county town of Tazewell. The
next day we dined in Abb's valley, a
narrow depression in the hills, and entered
upon the sandstone country, a
wild and picturesque region watered
by the branches of the Guyandotte and
Sandy rivers. Before us, as we topped
the summits of the hills, we could see
a countless succession of tree-clad
ridges, looking like the waves of some
sylvan sea. The inhabitants live there
in primeval simplicity, a race of hunters,
unlettered but shrewd, whose
knowledge of agriculture is chiefly
confined to the cultivation of maize,
or corn, as they call it. These hills
and valleys are the resort of vast
amounts of game, principally deer and
wild turkeys, and the streams are
stocked with the finest fish. We resisted
the seductions of hunting and
fishing on our route, and pushed on to
the waters of Coal river, a tributary
of the great Kanawha, where Archbold's
property lay.

It was a noble but wild domain he
had, although of little value in money.
Ten thousand acres of hill land, streaked
with numerous streams, running
through narrow, but highly fertile valleys,
and without a dwelling to invade
the wilderness. We found lodgings at
the house of a mountaineer, on Coal
river, a squatter who had but one
room in his house, but managed to give
us food and a bed.

So soon as breakfast was over on
the following morning, we started to

examine Archbold's tract, having a
surveyor's map of the property, and
being furnished with minute directions
from the man of the house. We had a
fine ride, working our way along cattle-paths
and deer-tracks, through the
woods and over numerous low gaps,
and it was not until nearly night-fall
that we turned to retrace our steps.
Unfortunately, however, we missed
our path somehow, and got farther
and farther into the wilderness, and
night-fall found us at the head of a
brawling branch without any apparently
defined path. We had taken
our dinners with us, and a sufficiency
of oats in our saddle-bags to give our
horses one meal, but expecting to return
to whence we had set out, had
made no provision for supper. After
wandering and stumbling through the
woods for some time, and getting thoroughly
wet by crossing the brook
at a deep hole, our horses suddenly
stopped, and refused to budge any
further, a hint not lost on us.

After a consultation, we determined
to stop where we were until morning,
a sensible conclusion, since we could
do nothing else. Tying our horses to
saplings, we stripped them, and then
groped about to find dead wood, which
we placed against a trunk of a fallen
tree, and kindled by means of dry
leaves, and some matches which Archbold
carried for the purpose of lighting
his pipe. The blaze of the fire
cheered us, and by its light we were
enabled to gather a sufficiency of dry
wood to replenish it during the night.
We had brought our rifled guns with
us, so that we are in no danger of
wild beasts, though there were really
none to fear, except possibly a stray
panther, and him the light of the camp
fire would keep away. And the fire
itself began to increase its brilliancy
at length to such a degree as to astonish
me, until I found the light was due
to other causes than the wood. We
had kindled it between what I supposed
were two great blocks of stone,
but these proved to be some species
of coal. By the light this made I gathered
some more lumps of like nature,
and our light grew exceedingly gay,
our spirits grew exceedingly high, and
despite the fact of our being supperless
and hungry, we indulged in a deal
of fun at our mishap.

We had been thus camped out about
a couple of hours, and were preparing
to lie down on a rude bed made of
hemlock boughs, when we found we
had a visitor. We heard something
crackling through the underbrush, and
over the dead limbs, and supposing it
to be some wild beast, raised our rifles.
As we did so, a tall, gaunt figure came
out of the darkness, and addressed
us:

“Good evening, gentlemen. Camped
out, I reckon.”

The language was the patois of the
section, but there was something in
the tone and manner which assured
me that the speaker was an Englishman.

“Yes,” answered Archbold, “we lost
our way.”

“I saw your light from my house,
and came out to see what it was. I
reckon you could lodge with me if you
felt so disposed.”

We gladly accepted the proffer, and
under the man's guidance found his
cabin, not quite half a mile down the
creek, as the brook is there called.

The house of our entertainer was of
more pretension than any we had

found in that region. Though built
originally of hewn logs, it was not
only covered externally with boards,
but wainscoted in the interior. It
had several apartments, or rather there
were several small cabins built one
against the other. The apartment
which we entered was neatly though
rudely furnished, and there were some
evidences of cultivated taste. The
two windows were hung with chintz
curtains, and a mantel-shelf was adorned
with the blossoms of the rhododendom
set in neat china vases. A few
colored paints, in plain frames, hung
upon the walls. A dark-complexioned
woman was in the room, and to her
our host spoke as his wife, urging her
to prepare us a supper. We deposited
our guns in one corner, and went out
to see that our horses were properly
bedded and fed. This was soon done,
and after hanging our saddles and
bridles on pins high up under the porch,
we entered the house, ready to eat our
supper whenever it was ready for us.

The woman was taciturn, and quietly
busied herself in preparing the food
and setting it on the table without uttering
a word. The husband was talkative,
and asked us our names, from
whence we came, whither we were going,
and what was our business, all of
which we imparted to him frankly,
since not to be communicative in that
quarter leaves the reticent traveler under
the ban of suspicion. As in ancient
Mercia, the traveler is obliged to blow
his horn on coming into the country,
and he who refuses to give a full account
of himself is supposed to have
evil designs.

“From New York, eh?” said our
host. “You wasn't raised there, I
reckon,” he added, addressing himself
specially to me.

“No,” I replied, “I was bred in England.”

“I allowed so,” said he, “when I
first heard you talk. I was raised in
the old country myself, but I've been
here so long, that I've fallen into their
ways, and pretty much talk their language.
Queer place, isn't it?”

“A little so to a stranger, but a fine
country, nevertheless.”

“What part did you come from?”

“The south-west—the town of Puttenham.”

The woman, who was carrying a dish
to the table, started and dropped the
vessel to the floor, shattering it to
pieces.

“Why, wife,” said Simon Potter, for
such he had told us was his name, “it
seems to me you're mighty narvous.”

The woman made no answer, but
swept the pieces into the hearth, and
then returned to her work. She soon
had everything ready, and seated herself
at the head of the table to pour
out the coffee, without which no meal
is considered complete among these
mountaineers.

“Set up, men,” said Potter. “Draw
your cheers.”

We drew up our chairs to the table
without a second invitation. It was
certainly a tempting meal. The rude
white-wood table had been covered
with a clean white cloth, and there
were plates of smoking, light biscuit,
honey in the comb, fresh venison cutlets,
fried chickens, preserved peaches,
slices of wheaten bread, and rich, yellow
butter. These two last were especially
welcome, since we had eaten
only maize-bread for several days past,

and flavorless white butter, and we
fell to work heartily.

In a few minutes I had taken the
edge off my appetite, and was debating
what I should attack next, when I
raised my eyes, and saw those of the
woman fixed on me, with a strange,
startled expression. I looked at her
in some astonishment. She was about
forty-five, perhaps, and had no doubt
been very good-looking in her day;
certainly she still had fine eyes, which
retained the fire and lustre of early
womanhood. Her gaze fell, and she
muttered something to herself indistinctly.
Nothing more occurred worthy
of remark during supper, and we
finished our meal in silence.

After having satisfied our appetites,
we intimated to our host that we would
like to retire. As Potter was arranging
the rude lamp, and preparing to
light it, the woman came close to me,
and with an accent evidently foreign,
whispered to me:

“Let me see you alone in the morning
before you go away. Do not fail.”

I nodded assent, of course, though I
firmly believed at the moment that the
woman was mad. She seemed to be
satisfied, and went to the fire-place,
and leaned against the wall, still watching
me. The husband led us to our
apartment, and bade us good night.

As we were getting into bed, I told
Archbold of the matter, and he proposed
to occupy Potter's attention in
the morning, so that I could hold the
interview with the woman without interruption.