y been rowing on slack-water, all the way from
Brownsville, with the help of an hour's sail this morning; whereas,
now that we were in the strong current below the dam, we had but to
gently paddle to glide swiftly on our way. A hundred steamers, more or
less, lay closely packed with their bows upon the right, or principal
city wharf. It was raining at last, and we donned our storm wraps. No
doubt yellow Pilgrim,--thought hereabout to be a frail craft for these
waters,--her crew all poncho-clad, slipping silently through the dark
water swishing at their sterns, was a novelty to the steamboat men,
for they leaned lazily over their railings, the officers on the
upper deck, engineers and roustabouts on the lower, and watched us
curiously.

Our period of elation was brief. Black storm-clouds, jagged and
portentous, were scurrying across the sky; and by the time we had
reached the forks, where the Monongahela, in the heart of the city,
joins forces with the Alleghany, Pilgrim was being buffeted about on
a chop sea produced by cross currents and a northwest gale. She can
weather an ordinary storm, but this experience was too much for her.
When a passing steamer threw out long lines of frothy waves to add
to the disturbance, they broke over our gunwales; and W---- with the
coffee pot and the Boy with a tin basin were hard pushed to keep the
water below the thwarts.

Seeking the friendly shelter of a house-boat, of which there were
scores tied to the left bank, we trusted our drenched luggage to the
care of its proprietor, placed Pilgrim in a snug harbor hard by, and,
hurrying up a steep flight of steps leading from the levee to the
terrace above, found a suburban hotel just as its office clock struck
eight.

Across the Ohio, through the blinding storm, the dark outlines of
Pittsburg and Allegheny City are spangled with electric lamps which
throw toward us long, shimmering lances of light, in which the mighty
stream, gray, mysterious, tempest-tossed, is seen to be surging onward
with majestic sweep. Upon its bosom we are to be borne for a thousand
miles. Our introduction has been unpropitious; it is to be hoped
that on further acquaintance we may be better pleased with La Belle
Riviere.

CHAPTER II.

First day on the Ohio--At Logstown.

Beaver River, Monday, May 7th.--We have to-day rowed and paddled under
a cloudless sky, but in the teeth of frequent squalls, with heavy
waves freely dashing their spray upon