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 before, was obliged to acquiesce, though unwillingly, so rather than lose my horse I complied also, and we were on the road in half an hour after.

After riding four miles on a continued ridge of Sideling-hill, we stopped at a log tavern to pick up the old soldier Wagstaff, whose stories had amused me so much at Skinner's in Horse valley, and who was a neighbour of Wilson's. He had the hog-driving lad still with him, and one horse between them which they rode alternately.

It was not yet day, and the scene in the tavern was, to me, truly novel. It was a large half finished log house, with no apparent accommodation for any traveller who had not his own bed or blanket. It was surrounded on the outside by wagons and horses, and inside, the whole floor was so filled with people sleeping, wrapped in their blankets round a large fire, that there was no such thing as approaching it to get warm, until some of the travellers who had awoke at our entrance, went out to feed their horses, after doing which, they returned, drank whiskey under {44} the name of bitters, and resumed their beds on the floor—singing, laughing, joking, romping, and apparently as happy as possible. So much for custom.

About four miles from hence, we descended the western side of Sideling-hill mountains, here called Rays-hill, at the foot of which we forded the river Juniata, a beautiful stream, about sixty yards wide, which after meandering in a wonderful manner through this mountainous part of the country upwards of 200 miles, through a space of not more than 100 of a direct line, falls into the Susquehannah about twenty miles above Harrisburgh; in all which distance it is navigable for large flat boats, of which considerable numbers are employed transporting the abundant produce of those remote regions to the Susquehannah, and down that