The door was made by cutting or sawing the logs on one side of the hut, about three feet in width.  This opening was secured by upright pieces of timber pinned to the end of the logs.  A similar opening was left in the end for the chimney, which was built of logs outside of the hut.  The back and jambs of the fireplace was of stone.  A hole about two feet square constituted the window.  Frequently the floor was the smooth, solid earth.  A split slab supported by sticks driven into auger-holes, formed a table.  A few three-legged stools supplied the place of chairs.  Some wooden pins, driven into holes bored in the logs, supported shelves.  A bedstead was framed by a network of poles in one corner.

Such was the home which David and his kind father reared in a few days.  It will be perceived that it was but little in advance of the wigwam of the Indian.  Still it afforded a comfortable shelter for men, women, and children who had no aspirations above a mere animal life; who thought only of warmth, food, and clothing; who had no conception of intellectual, moral, or religious cravings.

The kind-hearted father-in-law, who had accompanied his children on foot upon this long journey, that he might see them settled in their own home, now bade them adieu, and retraced the forest trails back to his own far-distant cabin.  A man who could develop, unostentatiously, such generosity and such self-sacrifice, must have possessed some rare virtues.  We regret our inability to record the name of one who thus commands our esteem and affection.

In this humble home, David Crockett and his family resided two years.  He appears to have taken very little interest in the improvement of his homestead.  It must be admitted that Crockett belonged to the class of what is called loafers.  He was a sort of Rip Van Winkle.  The forest and the mountain stream had great charms for him.  He loved to wander in busy idleness all the day, with fishing-rod and rifle; and he would often return at night with a very ample supply of game.  He would then lounge about his hut, tanning deerskins for moccasins and breeches, performing other little jobs, and entirely neglecting all endeavors to improve his farm, or to add to the appearance or comfort of the miserable shanty which he called his home.

He had an active mind, and a very singular command of the language of low, illiterate life, and especially of backwoodman’s slang.  Though not exactly a vain man, his self-confidence was imperturdable, and there was perhaps not an individual in the world to whom he looked up as in any sense his superior.  In hunting, his skill became very remarkable, and few, even of the best marksmen, could throw the bullet with more unerring aim.

At the close of two years of this listless, solitary life, Crockett, without any assigned reason, probably influenced only by that vagrancy of spirit which had taken entire possession of the man, made another move.  Abandoning his crumbling shanty and untilled fields, he directed his steps eastwardly through the forest, a distance of about forty miles, to what is now Franklin County.  Here he reared another hut, on the banks of a little stream called Bear’s Creek.  This location was about ten miles below the present hamlet of Winchester.