It may be made to yield, and yields a large return when that is given, is the soil that will make its owners most independent; and that boasted fertility of the prairies, which requires little or no pains on the part of the farmer, however much it may suit man's love of ease, is a misfortune, not a blessing.

The section of Ohio which was last settled, was the northwest corner; that portion having been retained by the Indians until 1819. Since it came into the market, it has been rapidly filling up, the land being of an excellent quality, and well watered.

The idea of using steam in the navigation of the Ohio and Mississippi occurred to Mr. James Rumsey, of Virginia, as early as the year 1782. In 1784, his invention had been made known to Washington, who mentions it at the close of his letter to Governor Harrison, respecting internal improvements, dated October tenth of that year; and speaks of it more fully in a letter to Dr. Williamson, written upon the fifteenth of the following March. Mr. Rumsey also obtained, in 1784, patents from two states; but his plan, which was essentially to pump up water at the head of the boat, and force it out again at the stern, (which pumping and forcing were to be performed by an old fashioned atmospheric steam engine,) did not ever come into use, though the model of it worked well.

From that time until Fulton determined to try his steamboats on the western waters, people contented themselves with arks, keels, and flats. In 1811 and 1812, Mr. Fulton caused to be built at Pittsburg the Orleans, of four hundred tons. She left that place in December, 1812, and passing down the river, presented, for the first time, to the dwellers upon its banks, the spectacle of a self-moving boat. But, though this did very well for a voyage down the stream, it was found to be less available than the keelboat for the passage against the stream; and, from 1812 to 1816, it was thought hopeless to make a steamboat that should stem the current and ascend the rapids of the Mississippi and Ohio. In 1816, however, Captain Henry M. Shreve (since famous as the inventor of the snagboats, or "Uncle Sam's toothpullers," as the river-men call them) built at Wheeling the Washington, having one large boiler on her apper deck; and, though she was so unlucky as to burst this boiler while at Marietta on her way down, she reached New Orleans in safety; and, returning to the Falls, first convinced the merchants and mariners of the West that such boats might supersede the keels. But even after this many doubted; and when the first boat, the Vesta, was built at Cincinnati, in 1817, those best fitted to judge, scoffed at the idea that she could bring freight up stream cheaper than the keelboats. "Gentlemen," said the builder, a sanguine, and, as they thought, mad man, "you now pay five and six dollars a hundred from New Orleans; but we shall some of as live to see steam doing the work for one half that." He and they have lived to see it reduced to one eighth.

Samuel Brady, the hero of the following adventure, was over six feet in height, with light-blue eyes, fair skin, and dark hair: he was remarkably straight and athletic, a bold and vigorons backwoodsman, inured to all the toils and hardships of a frontier life, and had become very obnox

ious to the Indians, from the numerous successful attacks on their war parties, and from shooting them in his hunting excursions, whenever they crossed his path, or came within reach of his rifle; for he was personally engaged in more hazardous contests with the savages, than any other man west of the mountains, excepting Daniel Boone. He was in fact an "Indian hater," as many of the borderers were. This class of men appear to have been more numerous in this region, than in any other portion of the frontiers, and this doubtless arose from the slaughter at Braddock's defeat, and the numerous murders and attacks on defenseless families that for many years followed that disaster. Brady was also a very successful trapper and hunter, and took more beavers than any of the Indians themselves. In one of his adventurous excursions to the waters of the Beaver river, or Mahoning, which in early days so abounded with the animals of this species, that it took its name from the fact, it so happened that the Indians suprised him in his camp and took him prisoner. To have shot or tomahawked him on the spot would have been but a small gratification of satiating their revenge by burning him at a slow fire, in the presence of all the Indians of their village. He was therefore taken alive to their encampment, on the west bank of the Beaver river, about a mile and a half from its mouth.

After the usual exultations and rejoicings at the capture of a noted enemy, and causing him to run the gauntlet, a fire was prepared, near which Brady was placed, after being stripped naked, and with his arms unbound. Previously to tying him to the stake, a large circle was formed around him, consisting of Indian men, women and children, dancing and yelling and uttering all manner of threats and abuse that their small knowledge of the English language could afford. The prisoner looked on these preparations of death, and on his savage foes, with a firm countenance and a steady eye, meeting all their threats with a truly savage fortitude. In the midst of their rejoicing, a squaw of one of their chiefs came near him with a child in her arms. Quick as thought, and with intuitive presence, he snatched it from her and threw it into the midst of the flames. Horror-struck at the sudden outrage, the Indians simultaneously rushed to rescue the infant from the fire. In the midst of this confusion, Brady darted from the circle, overturning all that came in his way, and rushed into the adjacent thickets with the Indians at his heels. He ascended the steep side of the present hill, amidst a shower of bullets, and darting down the opposite declivity, secreted himself in the deep ravine and laurel thickets that abound for several miles to the west of it. His knowledge of the country and wonderful activity enabled him to elude his enemies, and reach the settlements on the South of the Ohio river, which he crossed by swimming. The hill near whose base this adventure is said to have happened, still goes by his name, and the incident is often referred to by the traveler, as the coach is slowly dragged up its side.

Captain Brady seems to have been as much the Daniel Boone of the northeast part of the valley of the Ohio, as the other was of the southwest, and the country is equally full of traditionary legends of his hardy adventures and hair-breadth escapes, although he has lacked a Flint to

chronicle his fame, and transmit it to posterity in the glowing and beantiful language of that distinguished analist of the West. From undoubted authority, it seems the following incident actually transpired:

Brady's residence was on Chartier's creek, on the south side of the Ohio, and being a man of Herculean strength, courage, and activity, he was generally selected as the leader of the hardy borderers in all their incursions into the Indian territory north of the river. On this occasion, which was about the year 1780, a large party of warriors from the falls of the Cuyahoga, and the adjacent country, had made an inroad on the south side of the Ohio river, in the lower part of what is now Washington county, but which was then known as the settlement of "Catfish Camp," after an old Indian of that name, who lived there when the whites first came into the country, on the Monongahela river. This party had murdered several families, and with the plunder had recrossed the Ohio before effectual pursuit could be made. By Brady a party was directly summoned, of his chosen followers, who hastened on after them; but the Indians having one or two days the start, he could not overtake them in time to arrest their return to their villages. Near the spot where the town of Ravenna now stands, the Indians separated into two parties, one of which went to the north, and the other the west, to the falls of the Cuyahoga. Brady's men also divided; a part pursued the northern trail, and a part went with their commander to the Indian village on the river in the present township of Northampton, in Portage county.

As he approached the chasm, Brady, knowing that life or death was in the effort, concentrated his mighty powers and leaped the stream at a single bound. It so happened that, in the opposite cliff, the leap was favored by a low place, into which he dropped, and grasping the bushes, he thus helped himself to ascend to the top of the cliff. The Indians, for a few moments, were lost in wonder and admiration, and before they had recovered their recollection, he was halfway up the side of the opposite hill, but still within the reach of their rifles. They could easily have shot him any moment before, but being bent on taking him alive, for torture, and to glut their long delayed revenge, they forbore the use of the rifle; but now seeing him likely to escape, they all fired upon him; one bullet wounded him severely in the hip, but not so badly as to prevent his progress. The Indians having to make a considerable circuit before they could cross the stream, Brady advanced a good distance ahead. His limb was growing stiff from the wound, and as the Indians gaired on him, he made for the pond which bears his name, and plunged in, wam under water a considerable distance, and came up under the trunk of a large oak, which had fallen into the pond. This, although leaving only small breathing place to support life, completely sheltered him from their sight. The Indians tracing him by the blood to the water, made dili gent search all around the pond, but finding no signs of his exit, finally came to the conclusion that he had sunk and was crowned. As they were at one time standing on the very tree beneath which he was concealed, Brady, understanding their language, was very glad to hear the result of their deliberations, and after they had gone, weary, lame, and hungry, he made good his retreat to his own home. His followers, also

returned in safety. The chasm across which he leaped is in sight of the bridge, at Franklin Mills, and is known in all that region by the name of "Brady's Leap."

The following account of the desperate struggle of Adam Poe is from M'Clung's interesting sketches:

About the middle of July, 1782, seven Wyandotts crossed the Ohio a few miles above Wheeling, and committed great depredations upon the southern shore, killing an old man whom they found alone in his cabin, and spreading terror throughout the neighborhood. Within a few hours after their retreat, eight men assembled from different parts of the small settlement and pursued the enemy with great expedition. Among the most active and efficient of the party were two brothers, Adam and Andrew Poe. Adam was particularly popular. In strength, action, and hardihood, he had no equal-being finely formed, and inured to all the perils of the woods.

They had not followed the trail far, before they became satisfied that the depredators were conducted by Big Foot, a renowned chief of the Wyandott tribe, who derived his name from the immense size of his feet. His height considerably exceeded six feet, and his strength was represented as Herculean. He had also five brothers, but little inferior to himself in size and courage, and as they generally went in compan 7, they were the terror of the whole country. Adam Poe was overjoyed at the idea of measuring his strength with that of so celebrated a chief, and urged the pursuit with a keenness that quickly brought him into the vicinity of the enemy. For the last few miles the trail had led them up the southern banks of the Ohio, where the footprints in the sand were deep and obvious, but when within a few hundred yards of the point at which the whites as well as the Indians were in the habit of crossing, it suddenly diverged from the stream, and stretched along a rocky ridge, forming an obtuse angle with its former direction. Here Adam halted for a moment, and directed his brother and the other young men to follow the trail with proper caution, while he himself still adhered to the river path, which led through clusters of willows directly to the point where he supposed the enemy to lie. Having examined the priming of his gun, he crept cautiously through the bushes, until he had a view of the point of embarkation. Here lay two canoes, empty and apparently deserted. Being satisfied, however, that the Indians were close at hand, he relaxed nothing of his vigilance, and quickly gained a jutting cliff, which hang immediately over the canoes. Hearing a low murmur below, he peered cautiously over, and beheld the object of his search. The gigantic Big Foot lay below him in the shade of a willow, and was talking in a low deep tone to another warrior, who seemed a mere pigmy by his side. Adam cautiously drew back, and cocked his gun. The mark was fair-the distance did not exceed twenty feet, and his aim was unerring. Raising his rifle slowly and cautiously, he took a steady aim at Big Foot's breast, and drew the trigger. His gun flashed. Both Indians sprung to their feet with a deep interjection of surprise, and for a single second all three stared upon each other. This inactivity, however, was soon over. Adam was too much hampered by the bushes

to retreat, and setting his life upon a cast of the die, he sprung over the bush which had sheltered him, and summoning all his powers, leaped boldly down the precipice and alighted upon the breast of Big Foot with a shock which bore him to the earth. At the moment of contact, Adam had also thrown his right arm around the neck of the smaller Indian, so that all three came to the earth together.

The

At that moment a sharp firing was heard among the bushes above, announcing that the other parties were engaged, but the trio below were too busy to attend to anything but themselves. Big Foot was for an in stant stunned by the violence of the shock, and Adam was enabled to keep them both down. But the exertion necessary for that purpose was so great that he had no leisure to use his knife. Big Foot quickly recovered, and without attempting to rise, wrapped his long arms around Adam's body, and pressed him to his breast with the crushing force of a boa constrictor! Adam, as we have already remarked, was a powerful man, and had seldom encountered his equal, but never had he yet felt an embrace like that of Big Foot. He instantly relaxed his hold of the small Indian, who sprung to his feet. Big Foot then ordered him to run for his tomahawk, which lay within ten steps, and kill the white man, while he held him in his arms. Adam, seeing his danger, struggled manfully to extricate himself from the folds of the giant, but in vain. lesser Indian approached with his uplifted tomahawk, but Adam watched him closely, and as he was about to strike, gave him a kick so sudden and violent, as to knock the tomahawk from his hand, and send him staggering back into the water. Big Foot uttered an exclamation in a tone of deep contempt at the failure of his companion, and raising his voice to its highest pitch, thundered out several words in the Indian tongue which Adam could not understand, but supposed to be directions for a second attack. The lesser Indian now again approached, carefully shunning Adam's heels, and making many motions with his tomahawk, in order to deceive him as to the point where the blow would fall. This lasted for several seconds, until a thundering exclamation from Big Foot compelled his companion to strike. Such was Adam's dexterity and vigilance, however, that he managed to receive the tomahawk, in a glancing direction, upon his left wrist, wounding him deeply but not disabling him. He now made a sudden and desperate effort to free himself from the arms of the giant, and succeeded. Instantly snatching up a rifle (for the Indian could not venture to shoot for fear of hurting his companion) he shot the lesser Indian through the body. But scarcely had he done so when Big Foot arose, and placing one hand upon his collar and the other upon his hip, pitched him ten feet into the air, as he himself would have pitched a child. Adam fell upon his back at the edge of the water, but before his antagonist could spring upon him, he was again upon his feet, and stung with rage at the idea of being handled so easily, he attacked his gigantic antagonist with a fury which for a time compensated for inferiority of strength. It was now a fair fist fight between them, for in the hurry of the struggle neither had leisure to draw their knives. Adam's superior activity and experience as a pugilist, gave him great advantage. The Indian struck awkwardly, and