Along each of two sides of the plain a small stream ran, the two uniting in quite a respectable little river that joined the Great Kanawha River a few miles distant. Through the tall grass of this little prairie were great “traces” or paths beaten by the feet of passing buffalo, elk and deer. Fish swam in the streams and the wild turkey’s call was heard in the forest.
“The Garden of Eden with a redskin for sarpint,” was the remark of weather-beaten Dick Saunders, when first he looked upon it.
“We’ll do him no ill an’ consider weel before taking his advice aboot forbidden fruit,” replied David Allison.
On the eastern side of the little prairie, near the forest, a stockade was built of big logs, sharpened at both ends and set close together in the ground, enclosing about an acre in the form of a rectangle, on one side of which, and forming part of the stockade, were several cabins.
The work of construction was arduous and occupied the greater part of the summer but when completed it afforded a wall of protection, and a place where, another year, such cattle as they might be able to drive over the mountains could be sheltered from Indians.
As yet no sign of the red men had been found. While this country was part of the neutral ground between the savages of the North and those of the South, a territory over which all hunted, yet through it warlike bands frequently passed on their expeditions, for there was a chronic state of hostility between these savages.
The new settlers planted a little corn, but for other food relied upon hunting. Late in the fall all but three, of whom David Allison was one, left for home, planning to return in the spring with their families. Clark had not remained with the settlers as he had other ventures. Mr. Allison sent a letter to his wife by the 91 only one of those returning, who lived in Charlottesville; but he, being taken sick on the way, did not reach home till the following spring, after Rodney had started to join his father.
The winter months passed slowly for David Allison. Most of his companions were uneducated men, accustomed, as he was not, to the rough life. They respected him and he did his share of the work uncomplainingly, though an older man than the others.
One bitter day an Indian called. As there had been no alarm, the entrance to the stockade had carelessly been left open and he readily gained admittance. It appeared he had been with a hunting party, but became separated from them and was nearly famished. He was given something to eat and was then told to go along about his business. In those days some Indians would hang around a settlement, living off the bounty of the inhabitants, and these men didn’t intend to encourage the habit. A storm threatened and the Indian was loath to leave. Mr. Allison took him to his cabin and kept him until after the storm was past.