Buffalo Creek

It was not yet nine o'clock when we came within sight of the few twinkling lights in the settlement of Buffalo, and I could hear Isaac Barker's boisterous laugh while we were yet half a mile away, therefore I knew he was indulging in his quips and jokes.

It must have been that he was on the lookout for us, for before the flatboat was made fast to the shore, he, with Michael Rouse and Ben Cushing, was calling out words of welcome, and asking how the journey had progressed. As soon as they were on board, our craft having been made fast, we learned without surprise that the two ailing horses had died during the march.

A few moments later, as I was about to overhaul the bedding in order to make it ready for the children, whose time for going to sleep had already passed, Mistress Rouse said to me that she had no intention of remaining on board the boat during the night.

The fear that another storm might come up, or that we might be half-swamped as at Pittsburgh, caused the good woman to shrink from spending the night on the boat when it was possible to sleep ashore. Isaac was therefore urged to find some shelter, which he speedily did by proposing that they take possession of a log hut which stood on a point of land near the mouth of Buffalo Creek, where he, with Michael and Ben, had slept the night before.

The building had been abandoned, as it seemed, or else its owner was making a long journey, perhaps on a hunting trip, and would not complain if we made free with his property, it being the custom on the frontier for travelers to take advantage of such shelter as they might find unoccupied.