When I was ready to proceed down the Ohio, I went to the shore, where I
met a Mr. Willers, who had come there on the same errand as myself. Our
object was to go to Louisville, at the falls of the Ohio. We were
pleased with a well-constructed skiff, which would conveniently hold our
baggage, and, after examination, purchased it, for the purpose of making
this part of the descent. I was expert with a light oar, and we agreed
in thinking that this would be a very picturesque, healthful, and
economical mode of travel. It was warm weather, the beginning of May, I
think, and the plan was to sleep ashore every night. We found this plan
to answer expectation. The trip was, in every respect, delightful. Mr.
Willers lent a ready hand at the oars and tiller by turns. He possessed
a good share of urbanity, had seen much of the world, and was of an age
and temper to vent no violent opinions. He gave me information on some
topics. We got along pleasantly. One day, a sleeping sawyer, as it is
called, rose up in the river behind us in a part of the course we had
just passed, which, if it had risen two minutes earlier, would have
pitched us in the air, and knocked our skiff in shivers.
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