Annals of our ancestors; one hundred and fifty years of history in the ...

14
ANNALS OF OUR ANCESTORS
hearth in order to frighten away the too inquisitive panther
which ventured even to their thresholds.
The shellbark hickory and walnut trees bore a wealth of
fine nuts for the frontier urchins, and wild plums, cherries,
blackberries, and mulberries yielded a bountiful supply of
fruit for wild turkeys, raccoons and opossums, besides being
regarded with favor by the children. Beechnuts and sweet
acorns with delicious maple sugar and syrup were the joy of
many a wildwood camp: even the wilderness country held its
delights, and the lessons of old Mother Nature were full of
beauty and blessing. There was variety in the life of the
frontier; one day was not just like another, for there was ever
room for the unexpected, and the forest and wild lands held
their own surprises.
It was not long before James and Rachel Watkins ventured
forth into this wilderness to begin their share in subduing it and
laying the foundations of their home as yet unblessed by mutual
offspring. They selected a tract of land on Mill Creek, near
Cincinnati, as a place upon which to settle. They made an
opening in the deep forest and built a cabin of round logs. Fort
Washington had been evacuated two years before, so the
Indians were not on the warpath, though people still had a
dread of their treachery. While living in the valley of Mill
Creek, it happened one Sunday when Rachel Watkins was gone
to meeting that a party of Indians on a hunting expedition
came upon our grandparents' little cabin and stopped to beg
for something. They tried to make the deaf man understand,
but, placing his hands to his ears, our grandfather made it plain
to the wild men that he could not hear. They then made unmistakable
signs that they desired something to eat, so host
perforce, grandfather went to the cupboard and gave them all
the bread there was in the house, and the story is that there
were seven loaves. The unwelcome guests then left without
giving further trouble.
It was soon found that a mistake had been made in settling
where they first did, for the river bottom in early days was
damp and malarious; so they felt obliged to look further. This
time they ascended a lofty hill north of Cincinnati, eight miles