I travelled till sun-set, 32 miles from the Ohio, and slept at Mrs. Moore's farm-log-house tavern, with three rooms, and a broken window in each; all moderately comfortable, until the pitiless, pelting storms of winter come, when it will snow and {205} blow upon the beds. My hostess would, in England, pass for a witch, having a singularly long, yellow, haggish, dirty, face and complexion. She has three fine sons, but no servants. They do all the household work, and that on the farm, themselves, hiring none. They clear five or six acres every year, have cleared 60 acres, and mean that the other 60 of their quarter section should remain in wood. They located themselves here eight years since, and find good land, good crops, and a market at the door. Two of the young Moores mounted their horses, and, with five dogs, set off hunting at bedtime, until midnight, after racoons, foxes, wolves, bears, and wild cats. I saw a skin of the latter animal, much like a tame cat, only bigger, and its tail shorter; they live on partridges and young pigs, and poultry when they can get them; they never mew and call out like the domestic cat. Here is a pet bear, which took an ear of Indian corn out of my hand. One of these pets recently broke its chain, and came into the house, where lay a sick and bed*-ridden man, and an infant child on the floor, with which the bear, much pleased, marched off. The poor old man, not knowing, till then, that he was able to turn himself in bed, suddenly acquired supernatural strength, sprung out, and running after the bear, threw him down, rescued the screaming babe, unhugged and unhurt, and then jumped into bed again.
{206} 28th.—Now quite out of society; every thing and every body, with some few exceptions, looks wild, and half
