a half mile, it is now but a
cluster of dwellings on the outskirts of New Albany, a manufacturing
town which is rapidly absorbing all the neighboring territory.

Feeling obliged to make an early start, we concluded to pass the night
just below the canal on Sand Island, lying between New Albany and
Louisville's noisy manufacturing suburb, Portland. An historic spot is
this insular home of ours. At the treaty of Fort Charlotte, Cornstalk
told Lord Dunmore the legend familiar among Ohio River savages--that
here, in ages past, occurred the last great battle between the white
and the red Indians. It is one of the puzzles of the antiquarians,
this tradition that white Indians once lived in the land, but were
swept away by the reds; Cornstalk had used it to spur his followers
to mighty deeds, it was a precedent which Pontiac dwelt upon when
organizing his conspiracy, and King Philip is said to have been
inspired by it. But this is no place to discuss the genesis of the
tale. Suffice it, that on Sand Island have been discovered great
quantities of ancient remains. No doubt, in its day, it was an
over-filled burying-ground.

Noises, far different from the clash of savage arms, are in the air
to-night. Far above our heads a great iron bridge crosses the
Ohio, some of its piers resting on the island,--a busy combination
thoroughfare for steam and electric railways, for pedestrians and for
vehicles, plying between New Albany and Portland. The whirr of the
trolley, the scream and rumble of locomotives, the rattle of wagons;
and just above the island head, the burly roar of steamboats signaling
the locks,--these are the sounds which are prevalent. Through all
this hubbub, electric lamps are flashing, and just now a steamer's
search-light swept our island shore, lingering for a moment upon the
little camp, doubtless while the pilot satisfied his curiosity. Let us
hope that savage warriors never o' nights walk the earth above their
graves; for such scenes as this might well cause those whose bones lie
here to doubt their senses.

* * * * *

Near Brandenburg, Ky., Wednesday, 30th.--We stopped at New Albany,
Ind. (603 miles), this morning, to stock the larder and to forward our
shore-clothes by express to Cairo. It is a neat and busy manufacturing
town, with an excellent public market. A gala aspect was prevalent,
for it is Memorial Day; the shops and principal buildings were gay
with bunting, and men in Grand A