From Farm House to the White House - 912 Freedom Library
From Farm House to the White House - 912 Freedom Library
From Farm House to the White House - 912 Freedom Library
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<strong>Farm</strong> <strong>House</strong> <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>White</strong> <strong>House</strong>, by William M. Thayer 82<br />
"Well, <strong>the</strong>n," continued Gist, "do you go home, and here is a cake of bread for you, and you must provide<br />
meat for us in <strong>the</strong> morning."<br />
The Indian was glad enough <strong>to</strong> get away without being pierced by a bullet, and he promised <strong>the</strong>m excellent<br />
fare <strong>the</strong> next morning. It was nine o'clock at night when he left <strong>the</strong>m, taking with him his gun, that<br />
Washing<strong>to</strong>n returned <strong>to</strong> him. Gist followed him for quite a distance, <strong>to</strong> be sure that he was not deceiving <strong>the</strong>m,<br />
and <strong>the</strong>n hurried back.<br />
"Now, since you would not let me shoot <strong>the</strong> villain," he said <strong>to</strong> Washing<strong>to</strong>n, "we must shoulder our packs and<br />
hurry away, and walk all night, or we shall never see Williamsburg."<br />
"You are right, Gist, and we will be off at once; and <strong>the</strong> fellow may keep his meat till we come this way<br />
again," replied Washing<strong>to</strong>n, with as much composure as if <strong>the</strong>ir lives had not been in jeopardy. By <strong>the</strong> light of<br />
<strong>the</strong> camp fire <strong>the</strong>ir compass showed <strong>the</strong>m which way <strong>to</strong> go.<br />
The excitement of this perilous episode seemed <strong>to</strong> rest Washing<strong>to</strong>n's weary limbs, so that <strong>the</strong>y traveled rapidly<br />
through <strong>the</strong> whole night, finding <strong>the</strong>mselves at <strong>the</strong> head of Piney Creek in <strong>the</strong> morning. Washing<strong>to</strong>n's journal<br />
has <strong>the</strong> following entry for that day:<br />
"The next day we continued traveling until quite dark, and got <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> river, two miles above Shannopin's. We<br />
expected <strong>to</strong> have found <strong>the</strong> river frozen, but it was not, only about fifty yards from each shore. The ice, I<br />
suppose, had broken up above, for it was driving in vast quantities."<br />
"What next?" said Gist, with an air which indicated that he recalled his warning words <strong>to</strong> Washing<strong>to</strong>n about<br />
<strong>the</strong> perils of such a journey. "If <strong>the</strong> Indian's bullet had taken effect we should have been saved some trouble<br />
here."<br />
"A formidable difficulty, <strong>to</strong> be sure," answered Washing<strong>to</strong>n; "but a good share of wit and perseverance may<br />
overcome it. No way of getting over this stream, I think, except on a raft."<br />
"A raft!" exclaimed Gist. "A raft would be swamped in a giffy by that ice. Besides, what have we <strong>to</strong> build a<br />
raft with? A hatchet alone will not do it."<br />
"A hatchet is much better than nothing," responded Washing<strong>to</strong>n. "We will try what a hatchet can do <strong>to</strong>wards<br />
it. If we fail, we will fail in trying."<br />
"Try it is, <strong>the</strong>n," said Gist, ra<strong>the</strong>r admiring Washing<strong>to</strong>n's hopefulness and pluck than o<strong>the</strong>rwise. "I am at your<br />
service, and if anybody can cross <strong>the</strong> river, I think a man of your grit can."<br />
So <strong>the</strong>y set <strong>to</strong> work <strong>to</strong> construct a raft, with no implement but a solitary hatchet, consuming a whole day in <strong>the</strong><br />
work. When <strong>the</strong> awkward affair was fairly launched, <strong>the</strong>y went on board of it, and pushed off for <strong>the</strong> opposite<br />
shore. About mid-way of <strong>the</strong> river, <strong>the</strong> floating ice came down with such violence as <strong>to</strong> threaten <strong>the</strong><br />
destruction of <strong>the</strong> raft.<br />
"We can never reach <strong>the</strong> shore on this craft," said Gist, in a <strong>to</strong>ne indicating entire resignation <strong>to</strong> a watery<br />
grave.<br />
"Can't we s<strong>to</strong>p <strong>the</strong> raft and let <strong>the</strong> ice go by?" answered Washing<strong>to</strong>n, at <strong>the</strong> same time putting down <strong>the</strong> setting<br />
pole <strong>to</strong> accomplish this purpose. But <strong>the</strong> rapidity of <strong>the</strong> <strong>to</strong>rrent dashed <strong>the</strong> raft with such violence against <strong>the</strong><br />
pole that it threw Washing<strong>to</strong>n in<strong>to</strong> ten feet of water.<br />
"Hold on!" shouted Gist under <strong>the</strong> greatest alarm; "grasp this oar." And he reached out his oar <strong>to</strong> Washing<strong>to</strong>n,