"I remember my father, who used to have two big fires, and large barrels, in which he stirred with a long pole."
This answer satisfied them. Old Captain Simonton had a small distillery, and the man remembered the process of distilling very correctly.
"Wouldn't you like to go to your old house and see your relatives?" inquired one of the men.
He answered that he should like very much to do so, but that he was so much of an Indian that he doubted whether his presence would afford much satisfaction to his friends.
On being told that some of his brothers were in one of the companies, he was so much affected that he shed tears, and expressed great anxiety to see them. He evidently felt himself degraded, and saw between himself and his brothers an insurmountable barrier, built up by upward of thirty years of life among the savages; and yet he longed to see them.
While talking to the men, his wife took him away, and he was not seen again by them while they remained there. His wife had a powerful influence over him, and she used it to the best advantage; for she really began to suspect that the men had traced his origin.
Poor old Captain Simonton!—he never lived to learn the fate of the boy he so much doated upon.
One of the sons of Captain Simonton—a very old man—still lives several miles west of Hollidaysburg.