vitable. With the best of roads, not a horse
in the Republic could have carried through a man of my weight in the
time. The attempt was not necessary. Thanks to a kindly acquaintance
here and there along my route and to a sufficiency of silver in my
saddlebags, I managed to obtain a fresh mount on an average of twice in
every three days. With such relays, I was able to ride post-haste, yet
leave behind me each horse, in turn, none the worse for his part in the
race.

Up hill and down dale, pound, splatter, and chug, I pushed my mounts to
their best pace, along the old Philadelphia road. In other circumstances
and under clearer skies I might have paused now and again to enjoy the
pleasant aspect of the Alleghany scenery,--its winding rivers and
brooks, its romantic heights and budding woods. But from the first my
thoughts were ever flying ahead to the Monongahela, and the sole
interest I turned to my surroundings was centred upon such urgent
matters as food, lodging, and fresh mounts.

At the end of the journey I found myself in clear memory of but three
incidents,--a tavern brawl with a dozen or more carousing young farmers,
who chose to consider themselves insulted by my refusal to take more
than one glass of their raw whiskey; the swimming of the Susquehanna
River, because of a disablement of the ferry; and a brush with a trio of
highwaymen at nightfall in the thick of a dense wood. The rascals did
not catch me with damp priming. When they sprang out at me, I knocked
over the foremost, as he reached for the bridle, with a thrust of my
rifle muzzle, and swung the barrel around in time to shatter the
shoulder of the second fellow with a shot fired from the hip. The third
would have done for me had not his priming flashed in the pan. He turned
and leaped back into the thicket, while I was quite content to clap
spurs to my horse and gallop on up the road.

But even this last adventure failed to hold a place in my thoughts when
at last, near mid-afternoon of the fifteenth day, I came in view of
Elizabethtown on the Monongahela. Here it was I had reason to hope that
I might overtake Senor Vallois and his party. With roads so difficult,
it was more to be expected that he would take boat from this lively
little shipping point than rag on through the mire to Pittsburg.

Cheered by the thought, I urged my horse into a jog trot, which,
however, soon fell back into a walk as the weary beast floundered
through the deeper mire