was happy
in the midst of dangers and inconveniences. In such a diversity it was
impossible I should be disposed to melancholy. No populous city, with
all the varieties of commerce and stately structures, could afford so
much pleasure to my mind, as the beauties of nature I found here.

Thus, through an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, I spent the
time until the 27th day of July following, when my brother, to my great
felicity, met me, according to appointment, at our old camp. Shortly
after, we left this place, not thinking it safe to stay there longer,
and proceeded to Cumberland river, reconnoitring that part of the
country until March, 1771, and giving names to the different waters.

Soon after, I returned home to my family with a determination to bring
them as soon as possible to live in Kentucke, which I esteemed a second
paradise, at the risk of my life and fortune.

I returned safe to my old habitation, and found my family in happy
circumstances. I sold my farm on the Yadkin, and what goods we could not
carry with us; and on the twenty-fifth day of September, 1773, bade a
farewel to our friends, and proceeded on our journey to Kentucke, in
company with five families more, and forty men that joined us in Powel's
Valley, which is one hundred and fifty miles from the now settled parts
of Kentucke. This promising beginning was soon overcast with a cloud of
adversity; for upon the tenth day of October, the rear of our company
was attacked by a number of Indians, who killed six, and wounded one
man. Of these my eldest son was one that fell in the action. Though
we defended ourselves, and repulsed the enemy, yet this unhappy affair
scattered our cattle, brought us into extreme difficulty, and so
discouraged the whole company, that we retreated forty miles, to the
settlement on Clench river. We had passed over two mountains, viz.
Powel's and Walden's, and were approaching Cumberland mountain when this
adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains are in the wilderness, as
we pass from the old settlements in Virginia to Kentucke, are ranged in
a S. west and N. east direction, are of a great length and breadth, and
not far distant from each other. Over these, nature hath formed passes,
that are less difficult than might be expected from a view of such huge
piles. The aspect of these cliffs is so wild and horrid, that it is
impossible to behold them without terror. The spectator is apt to
imagine that nature had