No scene of life past at that time more
affected me than the death of Mr. Davis; but since that, met with something
that touched my soul more to the life, as will appear at the close of this
journal. At this time my health was greatly impaired, and now having lost my
good friend, had thoughts of returning home.
While ruminating on this subject, a canoe came along bound for the
Shawannee towns. It partly belonged to Mr. John Irwine, an Indian trader, with
whom I was acquainted. It was 60 feet in length, and at least 3 feet in
breadth; fitted out with six hands and deeply loaden [sic]. The name of the chief hand is James Kelly,
who offered to take me along. Resolved
to go, supposing that travelling by water might be a means of restoring health;
hoping also that I might meet with my interpreter.
December 27 [1772], in the morning parted with my brother and other friends, committing the
event to Providence; set out in my voyage to the Shawannee towns. The weather
was snowy and severe, yet being lapped up in blankets received no damage. At night encamped on the west side of Ohio,
and by the assistance of a large fire, slept more comfortably than could be
imagined, by those who are strangers to such lodging.
Monday 28, the wind blowing from the S.
made the river so rough, that most part of the day it was impossible to
travel. It is said by the traders, that
the wind almost universally blows up Ohio, especially in winter, nor do I
remember it otherwise: if this continues to be the case, it must be of great advantage
to trade on this river. Perhaps it would puzzle the greatest philosopher to
assign a natural cause for the wind's blowing up this stream in the winter; but
it is plain Providence has so ordered it.
At evening Mr. Kelly concluded, that as the wind abated, it was duty to
continue at the oars all night: therefore we set out, and it was thought by
morning we were about eight miles below the little Canhawa. This night was severely cold—the canoe was
loaded near eighteen inches above its sides; on this was my lodging. Though
well furnished with blankets, was afraid my feet would have been frozen. It may be well supposed that thoughts of sleep
in such apparent danger were not the most pleasing; for moving a few inches in
sleep, would have made the bottom of Ohio to be my bed. Many thoughts arose in my mind what might be
the event: at last believing that God had a command of my thoughts in sleep,
and could keep me from dreaming or starting in my sleep, committed all into his
hand, and slept without fear. In the
morning found myself safely preserved, through the care of him whose tender
mercies are over all the works of his hands. 1
I can almost
imagine myself on that canoe, piled high with supplies, lying on the top,
covered in blankets. Having done some
cold weather camping myself, I can attest to the fact that the feet are the
hardest part of the body to keep warm.
Keep your feet warm and the task of keeping the rest of your body warm
becomes much easier. Added to the
difficulty of staying warm is the necessity of staying still. Like Jones I would be worried about tossing
and turning right off the edge of that canoe and right into the river! How little do we really trust in our great
God to watch over us?
Tuesday 5 [January, 1773], the water being deep, the men rowed the
canoe about six or seven miles, and were obliged to encamp—I went myself on
land and killed some turkies for provisions.
Wednesday
6, moved slowly—spent some time in getting poles for the canoe—the wood
used is called paupaw, it is very light, and bears a kind of fruit in shape
resembling a cucumber, but too luscious
for some stomachs. This night our
lodging was bad, occasioned by rain.
Thursday 7, as the canoe was poled up
the stream, for the advantage of killing game, chose to walk on land; but
mistaking the way that the river turned, lost myself on the largest walnut
bottom that ever I met with before.
After some time, found myself mistaken—what added to my surprise, night
approached, and the sun did not shine.
After ruminating on my case, and recollecting the courses I came,
concluded that I knew which way the west lay; therefore set off and run over several
bad places, till at last the top of a very high hill appeared. Exhilarated with the view, with not a little
speed to this my course was bent; but before it was ascended far, had the
pleasing prospect of the river, yet was at a loss to determine whether the
canoe was below or above me. Went first
up the stream, some times whistling, and at other times hollowing till
discouraged—then returned down the stream for some miles, till I was satisfied
that they were above me—thence returning up again, expecting, little else than
to be left in this solitary wilderness, with no provisions, and little
amunition [sic] to kill any: but
while musing thus, heard them fire at their camp for me. Returned the report, firing as I went; but as
the wind blew towards me, they heard me not, though happily their guns were
always heard. With as much speed as the darkness of the night would permit,
being directed by their continual firing, at last arrived safe at the camp, and
was received joyfully; for their distress seemed greater than mine, lest some evil
had befallen me, and they should bear the blame. This day passed a large creek
on the west side of Siota, and several small ones on the east side. 2
I can’t say
that I’ve ever been truly lost in the woods.
Jones’ predicament would have been far worse than most anything we would
face today. Yes, he had a gun and some
powder and some ammunition but he carried with him no extra provisions. This is the winter, after all, and Jones
would have been all alone in a land that presented him with a hostile
environment if not hostile native tribes.
One shouldn’t mistake Jones for a mere “city slicker.” He seemed to be able to handle himself pretty
well in the wilderness, but his real deliverance came from God. Even so, in our own lives we often fool
ourselves into thinking that our own arm brings us deliverance. Father, forgive us!
Christ, not man, is King!
Dale
1)
David Jones, A Journal of Two Visits Made to
Some Nations of Indians on the West Side of the River Ohio in the Years 1772
and 1773 (Burlington, NJ: Isaac Collins, 1774), p. 27-8.
2)
Ibid., p. 33-4.
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