People who were staying at the Tavern came to see what kind of
folk we were.... Br Gottlob held the evening service and then
we lay down around our cheerful fire, and Br Gottlob in his
hammock." Two other jottings give us a racial kaleidoscope of the
settlers and wayfarers of that time. On one day the Brethren
bought "some hay from a Swiss," later "some kraut from a German
which tasted very good to us"; and presently "an Englishman came
by and drank a cup of tea with us and was very grateful for it."
Frequently the little band paused while some of the Brethren went
off to the farms along the route to help "cut hay." These kindly
acts were usually repaid with gifts of food or produce.

One day while on the march they halted at a tavern and farm in
Shenandoah Valley kept by a man whose name Brother Grube wrote
down as "Severe." Since we know that Brother Grube's spelling of
names other than German requires editing, we venture to hazard a
guess that the name he attempted to set down as it sounded to him
was Sevier. And we wonder if, in his brief sojourn, he saw a lad
of eight years, slim, tall, and blond, with daring and
mischievous blue eyes, and a certain, curve of the lips that
threatened havoc in the hearts of both sexes when he should be a
man and reach out with swift hands and reckless will for his
desires. If he saw this lad, he beheld John Sevier, later to
become one of the most picturesque and beloved heroes of the Old
Southwest.

Hardships abounded on the Brethren's journey, but faith and the
Christian's joy, which no man taketh from him, met and surmounted
them. "Three and a half miles beyond, the road forked.... We
took the right hand road but found no water for ten miles. It