to their mode of living, and attached to my sisters, the sight of white
people who could speak English inspired me with an unspeakable anxiety to
go home with them, and share in the blessings of civilization. My sudden
departure and escape from them, seemed like a second captivity, and for a
long time I brooded the thoughts of my miserable situation with almost as
much sorrow and dejection as I had done those of my first sufferings.
Time, the destroyer of every affection, wore away my unpleasant feelings,
and I became as contented as before.

We tended our cornfields through the summer; and after we had harvested
the crop, we again went down the river to the hunting ground on the
Sciota, where we spent the winter, as we had done the winter before.

Early in the spring we sailed up the Ohio river, to a place that the
Indians called Wiishto, [Footnote: Wiishto I suppose was situated near the
mouth of Indian Guyundat, 327 miles below Pittsburgh, and 73 above Big
Sciota; or at the mouth of Swan creek, 307 miles below Pittsburgh.] where
one river emptied into the Ohio on one side, and another on the other. At
that place the Indians built a town, and we planted corn.

We lived three summers at Wiishto, and spent each winter on the Sciota.

The first summer of our living at Wiishto, a party of Delaware Indians
came up the river, took up their residence, and lived in common with us.
They brought five white prisoners with them, who by their conversation,
made my situation much more agreeable, as they could all speak English. I
have forgotten the names of all of them except one, which was Priscilla
Ramsay. She was a very handsome, good natured girl, and was married soon
after she came to Wiishto to Capt. Little Billy's uncle, who went with her
on a visit to her friends in the states. Having tarried with them as long