Across the Mountains

If I were to make any attempt at describing our passage across the Blue Mountains, the Middle and the Tuscarora Mountains, it would simply be to repeat what I have already set down. Never once did we find a bit of the road where there was easy traveling, and it seemed to me that either the rain or the snow fell incessantly, until, wearied to the verge of exhaustion by day, we were forced to remain half frozen and wet to the skin from night until morning.

The women and children, if we camped at night where there were no houses in which to take shelter, slept in the wagons, while the men and boys made shift as best they might beneath the carts, getting such warmth as could be had under the few blankets at their disposal and the fires built close by, which were not of much avail because we could find no dry fuel with which to feed them.

Then came a day which I remember more vividly than any other of all that long journey, when we descended the last of the Tuscarora Range, and came to a fruitful valley, which we afterward learned was called Ahwick, where was a small settlement, while here and there, when we were on the higher land, could be seen farms which one might almost say were ready for planting, despite the snow that yet lay deep among the hills.

Master Rouse's wagon was leading the way and Uncle Daniel with his plodding oxen brought up the rear. It was Saturday night; we expected to remain at least two days, at the first place where we might sleep in comfort, and it was necessary we find housing for all, which might not be possible at the small log tavern we had heard would be found on the road a short distance away.