son
Crusoe," and other books, common now, but rare enough in the backwoods
in those days.

There were hard times, even in the wilderness of Kentucky, after the War
of 1812. Slavery was spreading, and Thomas and Nancy Lincoln heartily
hated that "relic of barbarism." To avoid witnessing its wrongs which
made it harder for self-respecting white men to rise above the class
referred to with contempt in the South as "poor white trash," Tom
Lincoln determined to move farther north and west--and deeper into the
wilds.

It is sometimes stated that Abraham Lincoln belonged to the indolent
class known as "poor whites," but this is not true. Shiftless and
improvident though his father was, he had no use for that class of white
slaves, who seemed to fall even lower than the blacks.

There was trouble, too, about the title to much of the land in Kentucky,
while Indiana offered special inducements to settlers in that new
territory.

In his carpenter work, Thomas Lincoln had learned how to build a
flatboat, and had made at least one trip to New Orleans on a craft
which he himself had put together. So, when he finally decided in the
fall of 1816 to emigrate to Indiana, he at once began to build another
boat, which he launched on the Rolling Fork, at the mouth of Knob Creek,
about half a mile from his own cabin. He traded his farm for what
movable property he could get, and loaded his raft with that and his
carpenter tools. Waving good-bye to his wife and two children, he
floated down the Rolling Fork, Salt River, and out into the Ohio River,
which proved too rough for his shaky craft, and it soon went to pieces.

After fishing up the carpenter tools and most of his other effects, he
put together a crazy raft which held till he landed at Thompson's Ferry,
Perry County, in Southern Indiana. Here he unloaded his raft, left his
valuables in the care of a settler named Posey and journeyed on foot
through the woods to find a good location. After trudging about sixteen
miles, blazing a trail, he found a situation which suited him well
enough, he thought. Then he walked all the way back to the Kentucky home
they were about to leave.

He found his wife, with Sarah, aged nine, and Abraham, aged seven, ready
to migrate with him to a newer wilderness. The last thing Nancy Lincoln
had done before leaving their old home was to take the brother and
sister for a farewell visit to the grave of "the little boy that died."

OVER IN INDIANA