sive generations into a crude system of general thoroughfares to which all minor routes led. To find the beginning and end of these grand trails one might traverse the continent in a fruitless search, for, like the broader roads of the present population, many of which follow the old trail courses, the beaten paths extended from ocean to ocean, from the southern point of Patagonia to the country of the Eskimos, where they were lost in the ever-shifting mantle of snow covering the land of ice—and the trails of the Genesee were but a local division of the mighty complication.
"In general appearance these roads did not differ in any particular from the ordinary woods or meadow paths of the present day. They were narrow and winding, but usually connected the objective points by as direct a course as natural obstacles would permit. In the general course of a trail three points were carefully considered—first, seclusion; second, directness; and third, a dry path. The trail beaten was seldom over fifteen inches wide, passing to the right or left of trees or other obstacles, around swamps and occasionally over the
