eys were all that was left to tell the
tale. It seemed remarkable that twelve short years should have worked so
complete a desolation. It would appear as if half a century had
intervened, so thorough had been the physical revolution of the island.

One night we had lain with our flotilla on the Virginia coast. It was
perceived, at early daylight, that the inner ark, which was Mr.
Thomas's, and which was loaded with valuable machinery, was partly sunk,
being pressed against the bank by the other arks, and the water was
found to be flowing in above the caulked seams. A short time must have
carried the whole down. After a good deal of exertion to save the boat,
it was cut loose and abandoned. It occurred to me that two men, rapidly
bailing, would be able to throw out a larger quantity of water than
flowed through the seams. Willing to make myself useful, I told my
friend Brigham that I thought we could save the boat, if he would join
in the attempt. My theory proved correct. We succeeded, by a relief of
hands, in the effort, and saved the whole machinery unwetted. This
little affair proved gratifying to me from the share I had in it. Mr.
Thomas was so pleased that he ordered a sumptuous breakfast at a
neighboring house for all. We had an abundance of hot coffee, chickens,
and toast, which to voyagers in an ark was quite a treat; but it was
still less gratifying than the opportunity we had felt of doing a good
act. This little incident had a pleasing effect on the rest of the
voyage, and made Thomas my friend.

But the voyage itself was now drawing to a close. When we reached
Cincinnati, the flotilla broke up. We were now five hundred miles below
Pittsburgh, and the Valley of the Ohio was, if possible, every day
becoming an object of more striking physical interest. By the advice of
Dr. Sellman, who invited me to dine with a large company of gentlemen, I
got a good boarding-house, and I spent several weeks very pleasantly in
this city and its immediate environs. Among the boarders were Dr.
Moorhead (Dr. S.'s partner), and John C.S. Harrison (the eldest son of
Gen. Harrison), with several other young gentlemen, whose names are
pleasingly associated in my memory. It was customary, after dinner, to
sit on a wooden settle, or long bench, in front of the house, facing the
open esplanade on the high banks of the river, at the foot of which
boats and arks were momentarily arriving. One afternoon, while engaged
in earnest conversa