of eight hundred or a thousand fold.  This is every thing to him and his family.  Indian corn, ground and made into cakes, answers the end of bread, and when boiled with meat, and a small proportion of a sort of kidney-bean (which it is usual to sow with this grain), it makes an excellent dish, which they call hominy.  They also coarsely pound the indian corn, and boil it for five hours; this is by the Indians called mush; and, when a proportion of milk is added, forms their breakfast.  Indian corn is also the best food for horses employed in agriculture in this climate:  black cattle, deer, and hogs are very fond of it, and fatten better than on any other grain.  It is also excellent food for turkies, and other poultry.

When this harvest is in, he provides himself with a cow, and a few sheep and hogs; the latter run wild in the woods.  But for a few years he depends chiefly on his rifle, and faithful dog; with these he provides his family with deer, bear, racoon, &c.; but what he values most are the black, and gray squirrels; these animals are large and numerous, are excellent roasted, and make a soup exceedingly rich and nourishing.

He gradually clears his land, a few acres every year, and begins to plant wheat, tobacco, &c.  These, together with what hogs, and other increase of his stock he can spare, as also the skins of deer, bear, and other animals he shoots in the woods, he exchanges with the nearest storekeeper, for clothing, sugar, coffee, &c.

In this state he suffers much for want of the comforts and even necessaries of life.  Suppose him afflicted with a flux or fever, attacked by a panther, bitten by a rattle-snake, or any other of the dreadful circumstances peculiar to his situation:  but, above all, suppose a war to break out between the Indians, and him, and his whole family scalped, and their plantations burnt!

The following extract from an American work very feelingly describes him under these cruel apprehensions:—­

EXTRACT.

“You know the position of our settlement; therefore I need not describe it.  To the west it is enclosed by a chain of mountains, reaching to——.  To the east, the country is yet but very thinly inhabited.  We are almost insulated, and the houses are at a considerable distance from each other.  From the mountains we have but too much reason to expect our dreadful enemy, the Indians; and the wilderness is a harbour, where it is impossible to find them.  It is a door through which they can enter our country at any time; and as they seem determined to destroy the whole frontier, our fate cannot be far distant.  From lake Champlain almost all has been conflagrated, one after another.  What renders these incursions still more dreadful is, that they most commonly take place in the dead of the night.  We never go to our fields, but we are seized with an involuntary fear, which lessens our strength, and weakens our labour.