cessive suminers teeming with disease, consumed the bulk of the inhabitants of the settlement, and compelled the few remaining ones to abandon their avaricious intentions and learn in future how to live.

So entirely was health cast out of all consideration at the time of erecting New Lancaster, that the settlers were not turned from their intention though a swamp of great extent, and part of which immediately bounds the west of the town, lay directly before them and emitted an effluvia so noxious as could hardly be withstood. Nor did they reflect that another swamp of a still worse nature, called "the muddy prairie," lay contiguous, and cast out of its bowels an air so mephitic, that persons had to close their mouth and nose on crossing any part of it. Deer and other animals chaced into these swamps by hunters, sink after a few struggles and never more ap

pear. The swamps will never be drained. Their extent and character defy human industry: the depth alone being much greater than any adjacent streams. The prevailing disorders they disseminate, are agues, fevers, and violent reachings. The latter complaint is nearly always fatal; and is accompanied by all the symptoms of yellow fever, such as derangement, convulsions, and a general effusion of blood.

Three miles below the Big Hockhocking, on the Virginia shore, I passed the town and settlement of Belleville, and two miles lower down I enjoyed the sight of a beautiful island of the same name, covered with trees, shurbs and verdure; and after a run of ten miles further without impediment, I arrived at a very dangerous part of the river, distinguished by the name of the Devil's Creek. In passing the creek, which issues from the Virginia shore, I found it necessary to

keep close round the left hand point to avoid being thrown by the current on dangerous rocks which lie in the bend above and below the mouth of the creek. I succeded well, but not without seeing the danger which required much exertion to shun.

Having lost considerable time in my late excursions, I being seduced by the fineness of the evening, and promised lightness of the night, determined on not bringing to till I should reach this place. I therefore continued on, past Amberson's Island, Goose Island, and by midnight came up to two islands which I understood to be but half a mile above Letart's Falls, universally feared as one of the most terrific parts of the navigation of the river. The roaring of the falls had reached us sometime before we made the islands, and reflections of propriety, safety, &c. were making such progress on my mind, that I began to repent of my deter

mination, and to feel a disposition not to proceed any further till morning. Prudence may arrive too late. The channel past the islands was close to the right hand shore, yet I dared not put the boat's head towards it, the current being impetuous, and the shore full of trunks of trees, breakers, and snags. Perceiving obstructions which were at once difficult and arduous to remove, I made preparations to shoot the falls. The men received my instructions with a silence which augured some fear; the waters uttered the most tremendous sounds, and the mist of their dashing rising into the air spread an apparent fog on their surface from side to side. The scene was awful: there was no alternative. I took the helm and placing the hands on each bow with a pole to guard against rocks, followed the current to the second island, from thence to about one-third of the river from the right hand shore, and there held it to the falls. The

boat took chute in the most capital man. ner, past through like the flight of a bird and never once turned round. In taking the chute, I observed a sunken rock to my right, that formed a very large ripple, and several others to my left, which caused the water to boil and make a grumbling dull noise. Instantly on dropping from the falls, it was necessary to take to the oars, to avoid an eddy of great power which sucked in logs and every thing else within its attraction, and cast them up about two hundred yards lower down.

I arrived at Point Pleasant to breakfast, and found it a handsome little town, well situated on the confluence of the Great Kenhaway with the Ohio, and commanding a very extensive view of the latter river. It contains about forty houses frame and log, and has not the aspect of ever being much augmented. The few disconsolate inhabitants who go