He found it much
easier to gossip with his friends, or to dream about rich new
lands in the West, than to make a thrifty living in the place
where he happened to be. The blood of the pioneer was in his
veins too--the desire to move westward; and hearing glowing
accounts of the new territory of Indiana, he resolved to go and
see it for himself. His skill as a carpenter made this not only
possible but reasonably cheap, and in the fall of 1816 he built
himself a little flatboat, launched it half a mile from his
cabin, at the mouth of Knob Creek on the waters of the Rolling
Fork, and floated on it down that stream to Salt River, down Salt
River to the Ohio, and down the Ohio to a landing called
Thompson's Ferry on the Indiana shore.
Sixteen miles out from the river, near a small stream known as
Pigeon Creek, he found a spot in the forest that suited him; and
as his boat could not be made to float up-stream, he sold it,
stored his goods with an obliging settler, and trudged back to
Kentucky, all the way on foot, to fetch his wife and children--
Sarah, who was now nine years old, and Abraham, seven. This time
the journey to Indiana was made with two horses, used by the
mother and children for riding, and to carry their little camping
outfit for the night. The distance from their old home was, in a
straight line, little more than fifty miles, but they had to go
double that distance because of the very few roads it was
possible to follow.
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