The great Indian diplomatist, “Little Turtle,” in making a treaty speech in 1795, when confronting Anthony Wayne, insisted that the Fort Wayne portage was the “key or gateway” of the tribes having communication with the inland chain of lakes and the gulf coast.  It is now claimed by many persons that this was the principal and favorite route of communication between the high and low latitudes followed by the savages hundreds of years before Europeans commenced the exploration of the great west.

There was a fourth route from the north to the tributaries of the Ohio, which was used by the Seneca Indians frequently, though rarely by the whites.  It was further east than the three already described.  The Genesee River flows into Lake Ontario about midway between its eastern shores and the longitude of the eastern end of Lake Erie.  In using this fourth route, the savages followed the Genesee, and made a portage to some one of the affluents of the Alleghany to reach the Ohio River.

[Indian in canoe]

CHAPTER III.

FROM PITTSBURGH TO BLENNERHASSET’S ISLAND

The start for the gulf.—­ Caught in the ice-raft.—­ Camping on the Ohio.—­ The grave creek mound.—­ An Indian sepulchre.—­ Blennerhasset’s island.—­ Aaron burr’s conspiracy.—­ A ruined family.

Upon arriving at Pittsburgh, on the morning of December 2d, 1875, after a dreary night’s ride by rail from the Atlantic coast, I found my boat—­it having preceded me—­safely perched upon a pile of barrels in the freight-house of the railroad company, which was conveniently situated within a few rods of the muddy waters of the Monongahela.

The sneak-box, with the necessary stores for the cruise, was transported to the river’s side, and as it was already a little past noon, and only a few hours of daylight left me, prudence demanded an instant departure in search of a more retired camping-ground than that afforded by the great city and its neighboring towns, with the united population of one hundred and eighty thousand souls.  There was not one friend to give me a cheering word, the happy remembrance of which might encourage me all through my lonely voyage to the Gulf of Mexico.

The little street Arabs fought among themselves for the empty provision-boxes left upon the bank as I pushed my well-freighted boat out upon the whirling current that caught it in its strong embrace, and, like a true friend, never deserted or lured it into danger while I trusted to its vigorous help for more than two thousand miles, until the land of the orange and sugar-cane was reached, and its fresh, sweet waters were exchanged for the restless and treacherous waves of the briny sea.  Ah, great river, you were indeed, of all material things, my truest friend for many a day!