I have often followed these tracks with safety and admiration. I perceived them chosen as if by the nicest judgment, and when, at times, I was perplexed to find them revert on themselves in parallel lines, I soon found it occasioned by swamps, ponds or precipices, which the animals knew how to avoid, but, that object being effected, the road again swept into its due course and bore towards its destination as if under the direction of a compass."

It is to be noted how closely Ashe's language, written one hundred years previously, approaches Dr. Hulbert's description of the buffalo traces.12

Ashe met and interviewed old settlers who knew the buffalo, and no other proof is necessary to adduce at this point than that evidenced in the naming of the city of Buffalo, to show how the American bison once ranged the country of Western Pennsylvania when the first white man came to it. So large were the herds encountered by the French in their first explorations in Northwestern Pennsylvania, that they called French creek in Crawford and Erie counties, the "Riviere aux Boeufs." Ashe states:

One old man, one of the first settlers in this country, built his log house on the immediate borders of a salt spring. He informed me that for the first several seasons the buffaloes paid him their visits with the utmost regularity; they traveled in single file, always following each other in equal distances, forming droves on their arrival of about three hundred each. The first and second years, so unacquainted were these poor brutes with the use of this man's house or with his nature, that in a few hours they rubbed the house completely down, taking delight in turning the logs off with their horns, while he had some difficulty to escape from being trampled under their feet, or crushed to death in his own room. At that period he supposed there could not have been less than ten thousand in the neighborhood of the spring. They sought for no manner of food, but only bathed and drank three or four times a day, and rolled in the earth, or reposed with their flanks distended in the adjacent shade, and on the fifth and sixth days separated into distinct droves, bathed, drank, and departed in single file according to the exact order of their arrival. They all rolled successively in the same hole, and each thus carried away a coat of mud to preserve the moisture on their skin, and which, when hardened and baked by the sun, would resist the stings of millions of insects that otherwise would have persecuted these peaceful travelers to madness or even death.13

Ashe may have been told this, or he may have extracted the story from some work on natural history current in his day. He tells the habits of the bison truthfully, and accounts for the roads as other writers have done. He mentions the wallow and the wallowing. Buffalo wallows in the region about Pittsburgh will strike the reader as ancient history in its insertion here, nevertheless we have the name, buffalo, geographically applied more than once within thirty miles of the city-Buffalo creek, emptying into the Allegheny river at Freeport, in Armstrong county, and North and South Buffalo townships in that

12"Historic Highways," Vol. II, Archer Butler Hulbert; Chap I., "Indian Thoroughfares." 13"Travels, etc.;" Ashe, supra., p. 48.

locality; also Buffalo township and Buffalo creek in Washington county. These applications of the borderer's name for the bison recognize the fact that the localities so-named were once part of that animal's habitat. It may be noticed that Ashe's statistics are given only in round numbers. It was while en route to Pittsburgh, after leaving Bedford, that Ashe met with the adventures that caused him to describe the woodland solitudes that encompassed him. Night came on him in crossing the Alleghenies, he said, on account of having traveled along so attentive to objects around him and wasted so much time in visionary speculations. He found himself on the summit of the ridge where the road was narrow, and bounded by frightful precipices. If he attempted to advance, a sudden and rapid death seemed unavoidable to him; if he remained where he was, wolves, panthers and tiger cats were at hand to devour him. He chose the latter risk as having less of fatal certainty in it. "I thought I could effect something by resistance," he said, "or that fortune might favor me by giving a more suitable supper and a different hunting ground to the ferocious animals."

So he remained in the woods, and had abundance of time for reflection. Strange thoughts filled his excited brain. He recorded them all in his stilted style. He said:

The progress of night was considerably advanced, and the powerful exhilarations of the preceding sun for want of wind to disperse, or waft them to other parts, were returning to their parent wood. They at first hovered in the form of transparent clouds over small creeks and rivulets in the intervals of the mountains, and then assumed a wider range, spreading over the entire valley and giving to it the appearance of a calm, continued sea. This beautiful transfiguration took place several hundred feet below me, while the summit of the hill had no mist and the dew was not sensible. The moon shone but capriciously, for though some places were adorned with her brightest beams and exhibited various fantastic forms and covers, others were unaffected by her light, and awfully mountained an unvaried gloom, a darkness visible conveying terror and dismay.14

Ashe was having a night of it. The vividness of his surroundings had plunged him in deep awe. He tells of his impressions:

Such impressions were gaining fast on my imagination, till an object of inexpressible sublimity gave a different direction to my thoughts and seized the entire possession of my mind. The heavenly vault appeared to be all on fire, not exhibiting the stream of character of the aurora borealis, but an immensity vivid and clear, through which the stars detached from the firmament traversed in eccentric directions, followed by trains of light of diversified magnitude and brightness. Many meteors rose majestically out of the horizon, and having gradually attained an elevation of thirty degrees, suddenly burst and descended to the earth in a shower of brilliant sparks or glittering gems. This splendid phenomenon was succeeded by a multitude of shooting stars, and balls and columns of fire, which, after assuming a variety of forms, vertical, spiral and circular, vanished in slight flashes of lightning and left the sky in its usual appearance and serenity. "Nature stood checked" during this exhibition; all was a "death-like silence and a dread repose." Would it had continued for a time! I had insensibly dropped on my knees, and felt that I was offering to the great Creator of the works which I witnessed, the purest tribute of admiration and praise. My heart was full; I could not repress by gratitude, and tears gushed from my eyes.

14"Travels," etc.; Ashe, p. 16, et seq.

One familiar with the proceedings of the councils with the Indians, wishes he had a string of wampum handy with which to "wipe the tears from his eyes and clear his heart," etc. We may or may not believe that Ashe was sincere, for a few weeks later he was a discredited man in Pittsburgh, with the reputation of an adventurer and so untruthful in some of his statements and dishonest in his dealings that his words are taken with some degree of allowance. To continue the story of his night in the woods, we are told:

These pious, pleasing sensations were soon forced to yield to others rising out of objects and circumstances around me. The profound silence maintained during the luminous representations was followed by the din of the demons of the woods. Clouds of owls rose out of the valleys and flitted screaming about my head. The wolves, too, held some prey in chase, probably deer; their howlings were reverberated from mountain to mountain, or carried through the windings of the vales, returned to the ear an unexpected wonder. Nor was the panther idle; though he is never to be heard till in the act of springing on his victim, when he utters a horrid cry. The wolf in hunting howls all the time, certainly with the view of striking terror, for being less fleet than many of the animals on which he subsists, they would escape him did he not thus check their speed by confounding their faculties. This is particularly the case with the deer.

Ashe tells next how the wild beasts take their prey, as revealed to him in the midnight in the forest, especially the methods of the tigercat, the Pennsylvania catamount most probably referred to. Then he resumes the story of his experiences, stating:

The intervals between the cries and roarings were filled by the noise of millions of little beings. Every tree, shrub, plant and vegetable harbored some thousands of inhabitants, endowed with the faculty of expressing their passions, wants and appetites, in different tones and varied modulations. The most remarkable was the voice of the whip-poor-will, plaintive and sad; "whip-poor-will" was his constant exclamation, nor did he quit his place, but seemed to brave the chastisement which he repeatedly lamented. The moon by this time had sunk into the horizon, which was the signal for multitudes of lightning flies to rise amidst the trees and spread a new species of radiance around. In many places, where they fell and rose in numbers, they fell like a shower of sparks, and in others, where thinly scattered, they emitted an intermittent pleasing ray.

Ashe is frequently guilty of hyperbole. He terms Mt. Washington, on the south side of Pittsburgh, a mountain, and with "thousands of inhabitants on every shrub," etc. Ashe certainly was in a densely populated region and, we may fairly assume, was not lonesome. He gives us a graphic and interesting account of the forest wilderness at night, and his experiences in it were the same as the woodland rangers, white or red, except that these men, accustomed to the noises of the woods, curled up, as Dr. Doddridge has related, and slept undisturbed by the din around them-new, strange and terrifying to a lone traveler. The noises Ashe mentions were familiar to the first settlers, and continued until the woodland was cleared, and the wildest and largest of the carnivora were driven to the recesses of the mountains. With the dawn, the turmoil of the night ceased, and Ashe was transported from a disturbing commotion to dead silence, and in consequence became pensive

again. He relates: "At length the day began to dawn; both the noisy and the glittering world withdrew and left to nature a silent, solemn repose of one-half hour. This I employed in reflections on the immensity and number of her works and the presumption of man in pretending to count and describe them. Who dares compose a history of nature, should first pass a night where I did. He would be taught the vanity of his views and the audacity of his intentions."

Ashe begins a new chapter here, after a half page of reflections, after the paragraph just quoted. His chapters are all in the form of letters beginning "Dear Sir," and signed "T. A." at the conclusion of the first one; the rest are merely dated, the one now to be noticed, dated as the preceding: "Pittsburgh October 1806." He describes a beautiful valley as he saw it at dawn on resuming his journey on horseback, and his description of this has been greatly admired. He has also some description of American forests which is corroborative of what has been stated ante in this chapter. He begins his chapter thus:

As day approached from the east, I recommenced my journey. The sun soon after colored "in gay attire" some of the summits of the mountains, but his luminous body was not visible for considerable time, and when it did appear in all its majesty, its rays were for several hours too oblique to penetrate the depths of the valley and disperse the ocean which the preceding day had formed. It was interesting to observe with what reluctance the mists dissipated; till touched by the magic beam they were one uniform sheet. They then assumed a variety of forms, clouds representing grotesque and lively figures, crowning some of the highest trees. Some descended to the bosom of the stream and followed the windings of the waters; others hovered over fountains and springs; while the larger portion rose boldly to the mountain tops, in defiance of the sun, to gain the higher atmosphere and again descend to the earth in dew or showers.

The birds with the first dawn left the recesses of the valley and taking their elevated seats joined in one universal choir. At least nothing had more the resemblance of a general thanksgiving, or oblation of praise to the Author of life and light, and though it might have been but a burst of exultation for the return to morn, I preferred thinking it a grateful expression of worship.15

Ashe had reached a habitation, and stopped for refreshments. We may believe his account of the bird concert a phantasy, for nothing is truer than the fact that our song birds came with the first settlers, as Dr. Doddridge well knew and has recorded. Mr. Cuming, a contemporary traveler, noted the absence of song birds: "Thursday, twentyfirst August, I walked out with the first dawn of a fine morning, nothing being wanting to render it delightful except the carol of the winged inhabitants of the woods, which throughout this country is very rare." Cuming was in an old settled country, too, just west of Washington, Pennsylvania.16

Ashe, after breakfasting, borrowed a rifle from his host the settler, and plunged into the forest. He remarks: "The American forests have

15"Travels," etc.; Ashe, pp. 20-21.

16"Sketches of a Tour to the Western Country, etc.," F. Cuming, Pittsburgh, 1810; p. 215.

Pitts.-2

One familiar with the proce wishes he had a string of wa tears from his eyes and clear hi that Ashe was sincere, for a in Pittsburgh, with the re in some of his statement are taken with some de night in the woods, v

These pious, pleasi objects and circumst luminous representa of owls rose out held some prey tain to mount unexpected the act of howls all many of their

hi

ree from under, gt and spreading penetrating to the on. In consequence tem with much pleasure

ng "a very large bear" -geree conveniently close by, e tells of his further wandermy way until I came to a wood Es entirely clear of timber and examined the place with care. ssuten seen from the borders of the vers, and even to the Pacific Ocean."

ze of the Chateaubriand species, "intoxistaggering off the limb." Ashe remained eener and he next morning rode on towards s story, reading further, it states that:

sited a varied tint over the numerous subjects of used myself in endeavoring to count and classify the colors zversty nature and distinguish her reign from that of other e progress, for the scene was too grand, extensive and subterte ained control of human calculation. I was on a vast emiA new of a valley in which stood millions of trees and from which are gradually rose in the form of an immense amphitheatre. It wer ree, though many were of the same class, had shades, hue and eur ʼn tself, ferived from individual altitude, growth and soil; and resentation to desvenly bodies and the emanations issuing from them. It was one of scenes in wach the mind would dwell with infinite rapture, but which can never described with justice and truth except by one inspired by Him "whose breath perunes tem, and whose pencil paints. "17 But,

"Who can paint

Like Nature? Can imagination boast
Amidst her creation, hues like these?"
THOMSON.

Acter crossing the Laurel Ridge and proceeding through the Ligonier Valem. Ashe's narrative continues in a few paragraphs until he announces his arrival in Pittsburgh. He said: "Nothing worthy of mention struck my acce I arrived within three miles of Pittsburgh, when I descended into the beautiful vale which leads into that town. It was mpossible to behold anything more interesting than this; it extended three miles on a perfect level, cultivated in the highest degree, bounded by using ground on the left and a transparent river on the right, and leading to a well habited town where I meant to repose after a cummer zi pæles, go of them over stupendous mountains and bar

Aste is ely wrong in his statements of distance. From one place