One sees strikingly, in the above quotation, the softening effect of affliction on the human heart There was a widow in the neighborhood, a very worthy woman, who had lost her husband in the war.  She had two children, a son and a daughter, both quite young.  She owned a snug little farm, and being a very capable woman, was getting along quite comfortably.  Crockett decided that he should make a good step-father to her children, and she a good step-mother for his.  The courtship was in accordance with the most approved style of country love-making.  It proved to be a congenial marriage.  The two families came very harmoniously together, and in their lowly hut enjoyed peace and contentment such as frequently is not found in more ambitious homes.

But the wandering propensity was inherent in the very nature of Crockett.  He soon tired of the monotony of a farmer’s life, and longed for change.  A few months after his marriage he set out, with three of his neighbors, all well mounted, on an exploring tour into Central Alabama, hoping to find new homes there.  Taking a southerly course, they crossed the Tennessee River, and striking the upper waters of the Black Warrior, followed down that stream a distance of about two hundred miles from their starting-point, till they came near to the place where Tuscaloosa, the capital of the State, now stands.

This region was then almost an unbroken wilderness.  But during the war Crockett had frequently traversed it, and was familiar with its general character.  On the route they came to the hut of a man who was a comrade of Crockett in the Florida campaign.  They spent a day with the retired soldier, and all went out in the woods together to hunt.  Frazier unfortunately stepped upon a venomous snake, partially covered with leaves.  The reptile struck its deadly fangs into his leg.  The effect was instantaneous and awful.  They carried the wounded man, with his bloated and throbbing limb, back to the hut.  Here such remedies were applied as backwoods medical science suggested; but it was evident that many weeks would elapse ere the man could move, even should he eventually recover.  Sadly they were constrained to leave their suffering companion there.  What became of him is not recorded.

The three others, Crockett, Robinson, and Rich, continued their journey.  Their route led them through a very fertile and beautiful region, called Jones’s Valley.  Several emigrants had penetrated and reared their log huts upon its rich and blooming meadows.

When they reached the spot where the capital of the State now stands, with its spacious streets, its public edifices, its halls of learning, its churches, and its refined and cultivated society, they found only the silence, solitude, and gloom of the wilderness.  With their hatchets they constructed a rude camp to shelter them from the night air and the heavy dew.  It was open in front.  Here they built their camp-fire, whose cheerful glow illumined the forest far and wide, and which converted midnight glooms into almost midday radiance.  The horses were hobbled and turned out to graze on a luxuriant meadow.  It was supposed that the animals, weary of the day’s journey, and finding abundant pasturage, would not stray far.  The travellers cooked their supper, and throwing themselves upon their couch of leaves, enjoyed that sound sleep which fatigue, health, and comfort give.