atload of
daring youngsters being caught by the wheel, their craft smashed into
kindling-wood, and they themselves all drowned but one.

The hills, to-day, sometimes break sharply off, leaving an eroded,
often vine-festooned palisade some fifty feet in height, at the base
of which is a long, tree-clad slope of debris; then, a narrow, level
terrace from fifty to a hundred yards in width, which drops suddenly
to a rocky beach; this in turn is often lined along the water's edge
with irregularly-shaped boulders, from the size of Pilgrim to fifteen
or twenty feet in height, and worn smooth with the grinding action
of the river. The effect is highly picturesque. We shall have much of
this below.

At the foot of one of these palisades lay a shanty-boat, with nets
sprawled over the roof to dry, and a live-box anchored hard by.
"Hello, the boat!" brought to the window the head of the lone
fisherman, who dreamily peered at us as we announced our wish to
become his customers. A sort of poor-white Neptune, this tall, lean,
lantern-jawed old fellow, with great round, iron-rimmed spectacles
over his fishy eyes, his hair and beard in long, snaky locks, and
clothing in dirty tatters. As he put out in his skiff to reach the
live-box, he continuously spewed tobacco juice about him, and in an
undertone growled garrulously, as though used to soliloquize in his
hermitage, where he lay at outs with the world. He had been in this
spot for two years, he said, and sold fish to the daily Parkersburg
steamer--when there were any fish. But, for six months past, he
"hadn't made enough to keep him in grub," and had now and then to go
up to the city and earn something. For forty years had he followed the
apostles' calling on "this yere Ohio," and the fishing was never so
poor as now--yes, sir! hard times had struck his business, just like
other folks'. He thought the oil wells were tainting the water, and
the fish wouldn't breed--and the iron slag, too, was spoiling the
river, and he knew it. He finally produced for us, out of his box, a
three-pound fish,--white perch, calico bass, and catfish formed his
stock in trade,--but, before handing it over, demanded the requisite
fifteen cents. Evidently he had had dealings with a dishonest world,
this hermit fisher, and had learned a thing or two.

Perfect camping places are not to be found every day. There are so
many things to think of--a good landing place; good height above the
water level, in case