PULPIT ROCKS, WARRIOR RIDGE.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

WARRIOR RIDGE — WARRIOR'S MARK — JOB CHILLAWAY, SHANEY JOHN, AND CAPTAIN LOGAN, THE LAST RED MEN IN THE JUNIATA VALLEY.

Warrior Ridge, between Alexandria and Huntingdon, derives its name from an Indian path which ran along the summit of it. The Pulpit Rocks, not unlike the altars of the Druids, shaped into fantastic forms by the hand of nature, as well as the wild romantic scenery around them, at once suggest the idea of a place of meeting of the warriors,—a spot where the councils of the brave were held, with the greensward of the mountain for a carpet and the blue vault of heaven for a canopy. Were we not so well aware of the fact that the Indians preferred the lowlands of the valleys for places of abode, we could almost fancy the neighborhood of Pulpit Rocks to have been a glorious abiding-place; but of the occurrences and events that took place on the ridge we are in hopeless ignorance. Had some Indian historian of an early day transmitted to posterity, either by written or oral tradition, one-half the events of Warrior Ridge, we might add considerable interest to these pages; but as it is, we must content ourself, if not our readers, with this brief notice of the famous Warrior Ridge.

Warrior's Mark was another celebrated place for the Indians. It lies upon a flat piece of table-land, and is just the kind of a place where savages would be likely to meet to debate measures of great importance and to concoct schemes for their future movements. The name of the place originated from the fact of certain oak-trees in the vicinity having a crescent or half-moon cut upon them with hatchets, so deep that traces can still be seen of them, or, at least, could be some years ago. The signification of them was known to the Indians alone; but it is evident that some meaning was attached to them, for, during the Revolution, every time a band of savages came into the valley one or more fresh warrior marks were put upon the trees. The Indian town stood upon the highway or path leading from Kittaning, through Penn's Valley, to the Susquehanna. It was still considerable of a village when the white men first settled in the neighborhood, but immediately on the breaking out of the Revolution the Indians destroyed it, and moved to Ohio, and at this day there is not a trace of its existence left.

The first white settlers in Warrior's Mark were the Ricketts family. They were all wild, roving fellows, who loved the woods better than civilization; and their whole occupation, over and above tilling a very small patch of land, appeared to be hunting for wild game. Their arrival was followed by two or three other families; and when the Indian troubles commenced, the house of Ricketts was converted into a fortress, and the men turned their attention to protecting the frontier. One of them—Captain Elijah Ricketts—became quite an active and prominent man.

We have no record of any murder ever having been committed in the immediate vicinity of Warrior's Mark. Several captives were taken from thence, either in 1777 or 1778, but were exchanged and found their way back; we are, however, without particulars, either as to their names, capture, or release.

The three last Indians in the valley were Job Chillaway, a Delaware, Shaney John, a Mingo, and Captain Logan, a Cayuga. They were all friendly to the whites, and served the cause of liberty in the capacity of spies.

Job Chillaway is represented by the late E. Bell, Esq., in his MS., as a tall, muscular man, with his ears cut so as to hang pendant like a pair of ear-rings. He was employed as early as 1759 by the Colonial Government as a spy, and his name is frequently mentioned in the archives. Levi Trump, in writing to Governor Denny, from Fort Augusta, on April 8, 1759, when the French were using their most powerful exertions to swerve the Six Nations from their fealty to the colony, says:—

In 1763, Chillaway still remained loyal to the colony, although nearly all of his tribe had taken up the hatchet against the English. Colonel James Irvine, under date of November 23, 1763, writes from "Ensign Kerns," near Fort Allen, to John Penn, as follows:—

Whether Papunchay continued loyal after 1763 is not known; but Chillaway was a spy, in the employ of Asher Clayton, at Lehigh Gap, as late as May, 1764.

About 1768, he made his way to the Juniata Valley. He first located near the mouth of the Little Juniata; but as soon as settlements were made by the whites he went up Spruce Creek; but there, too, the footprints of the white invader were soon seen, and he removed to the mountain, where hunting was good. He continued for many years after the Revolution to bring venison down into the settlements to trade off for flour and bread. In his old age he exhibited a passion for strong drink, and by the white man's baneful fire-water he fell. He was found dead in his cabin, by some hunters, about the close of the last century.

Of Shaney John not much is known. He came to the valley probably about the same time Chillaway did, and the two were boon-companions for many years. Shaney John moved to the Indian town called the Bald Eagle's Nest, nearly opposite Milesburg, Centre county, where he died.

The most prominent friendly Indian that ever resided in the valley, however, was Captain Logan. This, of course, was not his proper name, but a title bestowed upon him by the settlers. He is represented as having been a noble and honorable Indian, warm in his attachment to a friend, but, like all Indians, revengeful in his character. A kindness and an insult alike remained indelibly stamped upon the book and page of his memory; and to make a suitable return for the former he would have laid down his life—shed the last drop of his heart's blood. He was a man of medium height and heavy frame; notwithstanding which he was fleet of foot and ever on the move.

He came to the valley before Chillaway did, and settled with his family in the little valley east of Martin Bell's Furnace, which is still known as Logan's Valley. He had previously resided on the Susquehanna, where he was the captain of a brave band of warriors; but, unfortunately, in some engagement with another tribe, he had an eye destroyed by an arrow from the enemy. This was considered a mark of disgrace, and he was deposed; and it was owing to that cause that he abandoned his tribe and took up his residence in the Juniata Valley.

One day, while hunting, he happened to pass the beautiful spring near the mouth of the Bald Eagle—now in the heart of Tyrone City. The favorable location for both hunting and fishing, as well as the charming scenery, fascinated Logan; and he built himself a wigwam, immediately above the spring, to which he removed his family.

Here he lived during the Revolutionary war, not altogether inactive, for his sympathies were on the side of liberty. During that time he formed a strong attachment to Captain Ricketts, of Warrior's Mark, and they became fast friends. It was to Ricketts that Captain Logan first disclosed the plot of the tories under John Weston; and Edward Bell gave it as his firm conviction that Logan was among the Indians who shot down Weston and his men on their arrival at Kittaning.

Although Logan had learned to read from the Moravian missionaries when quite a lad, he knew very little of the formula of land purchases; so he failed to make a regular purchase of the spot on which his cabin stood, the consequence of which was that, after the war, some envious white man bought the land and warned the friendly savage off. Logan was too proud and haughty to contest the matter, or even bandy words with the intruder; so he left, and located at Chickalacamoose, where Clearfield now stands, on the West Branch of the Susquehanna.

Captain Logan continued visiting the valley, and especially when any of his friends among the pioneers died. On such occasions he generally discarded his red and blue eagle-feathers, and appeared in a plain suit of citizens' clothes.

But at length Logan came no more. The Great Spirit called him to a happier hunting-ground; and all that is mortal of him—unless his remains have been ruthlessly torn from the bosom of mother earth—lies beneath the sod, near the mouth of Chickalacamoose Creek.

It is to be regretted that more of his history has not been preserved, for, according to all accounts of him, he possessed many noble traits of character. Unlike Logan the Mingo chief, Captain Logan the Cayuga chief had no biographer like Thomas Jefferson to embellish the pages of history with his eloquence. Well may we say, "The evil that men do lives after them, while the good is oft interred with their bones."

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CONCLUSION.

Pushing the light canoe on the lagoons in search of fish and lassoing the wild horse on the pampas of the South, chasing the buffalo on the boundless prairies and hunting the antlered stag in the dense forests of the West, is now the Indian's occupation; and there he may be found, ever shunning the haunts of civilization.

The Delaware Indians have been exterminated, and their very name (Lenni Lenape) blotted from existence, save where it appears upon the pages of history.

Of the Shawnees, once the powerful warlike tribe that was known and feared from the seaboard to the lakes, but a few degenerate families reside in the Far West.

Of the Great Confederation of the Iroquois but a remnant exists to remind us of its former greatness, its councils, its wars, and its "talks." They reside in Western New York, in a semi-civilized but degraded state, and are but sorry representatives of the once proud and stately warriors the crack of whose sharp and unerring rifles made the woods ring, and whose canoes danced upon the waves of the blue Juniata more than a hundred years ago.

But they are all gone, and the bones of their ancestors are the only relics which they have left behind them. The hand of the same inscrutable Providence that suffered them to march as mighty conquerors from the West to the East, crushing out the existence of a weaker people in their triumphant march, stayed them, blighted them in the noonday of their glory, and, like the receding waves of the sea, drove them back in the direction whence they came, where they scattered, and the ties which bound them together as tribes dissolved even as would ice beneath the rays of a tropical sun.

The reader of the foregoing pages may sometimes think it strange that the savages committed so many depredations with impunity, killed, scalped, or carried so many into captivity, while but comparatively few of the marauders were destroyed. The cause of this can be easily explained. The savages always made covert attacks. As will be remembered, very few massacres occurred in the valley by open attack,—nearly all their depredations being committed while in ambuscade or when they had a foe completely in their power. Their incursions were always conducted with great caution, and no sooner did they strike a decisive blow than they disappeared. To guard against their ferocity was impossible; to follow them was equally futile. The settlers were too few in number to leave one force at home to guard against them and to send another in pursuit of them; for, during the Revolution, the belief was prevalent that a large force was ever ready to descend into the valley, and that the incursions of a few were only stratagems to lure the settlers to destruction by following them to where a large number were concealed. It was frequently proposed to send a strong force to waylay the gaps of the mountain; but the settlers refused to trust the protection of their families to the raw militia sent by government to defend the frontier.

In extremely aggravating cases, men, driven to desperation, followed the savages to the verge of the Indian settlements; but they never got beyond the summit of the Alleghany Mountains without feeling as if they were walking directly into the jaws of death, for no one could otherwise than momentarily expect a shower of rifle-balls from the enemy in ambuscade. The want of men, ammunition, and other things, were known to and taken advantage of by the Indians; but when an abundance of these things was brought to the frontier they prudently kept out of the way, for their sagacity instinctively taught them what they might expect if they fell into the hands of the settlers. But it may here be remarked that the savage mode of warfare, which by them was deemed fair and honorable,—such as scalping or maiming women and children,—was held in the utmost horror and detestation by people who professed to be Christians; and they equally detested shooting from ambuscade as an act fit for savages alone to be guilty of. It was only the more reckless and desperate of the community that would consent to fight the savages after their own mode of warfare.

It is, therefore, but a simple act of justice to the memory of the pioneers to say that the savages did not go unpunished through any fear or lack of zeal on their part. Their concentrated energies were used to check the frequent invasions, and many of them spent their last dollar to protect the defenceless frontier; yet it is to be deeply regretted that in those primitive days they lacked the knowledge of properly applying the power within their reach.

But they, too, are all gone! "Each forever in his narrow cell is laid." Beneath their kindred dust the rude forefathers of the valley sleep. We have endeavored to give a succinct account of the trials and sufferings of many of them; but, doubtless, much remains untold, which the recording angel alone has possession of. While we reflect upon the fact that it was through the privations and hardships they endured that we enjoy the rich blessings of the beautiful and teeming valley, let us hope that they are enjoying a peace they knew not on earth, in that valley "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest."

APPENDIX.

THE VALLEY AS IT IS.

The preceding pages fulfil the original intention of presenting to the public, as far as possible, a "History of the Early Settlement of the Juniata Valley." Its modern history, fraught with rare incidents, is left to the pen of some future enterprising historian, who may collect the incidents necessary to construct it when but a moiety of the generation (still numerous) who know the valley and its multifarious changes for half a century past shall be dwellers in our midst. Still, such prospect shall not deter us from giving a synopsis of the history of the valley as it is, not promising, however, to make the record complete, or even notice in detail the growth and progress of the valley during the last thirty years.

When the early settlers were apprised of the fact that some of the more enterprising contemplated cutting a pack-horse road over the Alleghany Mountains, through Blair's Gap, they shook their heads ominously, and declared that the task was one which could not be accomplished. But it was accomplished; and, after its completion, it was not many years until the pack-horse track was transformed into a wagon-road. People were well satisfied with this arrangement; for no sooner was there a good road along the river than some daring men commenced taking produce to the East, by the use of arks, from the Frankstown Branch, the Raystown Branch, and the Little Juniata. With these advantages, a majority of the inhabitants labored under the impression that they were keeping pace with the age; but others, endowed with a fair share of that progressive spirit which characterizes the American people, commenced agitating the project of making a turnpike between Huntingdon and Blairsville. The old fogies of the day gave this innovation the cold shoulder, spoke of the immense cost, and did not fail to count the expense of travelling upon such a road. But little were their murmurings heeded by the enterprising men of the valley. The fast friend of the turnpike was Mr. Blair, of Blair's Gap, west of Hollidaysburg. His influence was used in the halls of the Legislature until he injured his political standing; nevertheless, he persevered until the company was chartered, and he soon had the satisfaction of seeing the turnpike road completed. Once built, it was found to be rather a desirable institution, and its value soon removed all opposition to it.

Anon came the startling proposition of building a canal along the Juniata, and a railroad over the Alleghany Mountains, to connect the waters of the Juniata and the Conemaugh. To men of limited information the project seemed vague and ill-defined; while knowing old fogies shook their heads, and declared that a canal and a turnpike both could not be sustained, and that, if the former could accomplish the wonders claimed for it, the teams that carried goods between Philadelphia and Pittsburg in the short space of from fifteen to twenty days would be compelled to suspend operations! But the opposition to the canal was too insignificant to claim notice; and when the building of it was once commenced an improvement mania raged. The stately and learned engineer, Moncure Robinson, was brought all the way from England to survey the route for the Portage Road. Like a very colossus of roads, he strode about the mountain, and his nod and beck, like that of imperial Cæsar upon his throne, was the law, from which there was no appeal. By dint of long labor, and at a vast expense to the commonwealth, he demonstrated clearly that a road could be built across the mountain, and rendered practicable by the use of ten inclined planes. Alas! for the perishable nature of glory! Moncure Robinson had hardly time to reach his home, and boast of the honor and fame he achieved in the New World, before a Yankee engineer discovered that a railroad could be built across the Alleghany Mountain without the use of a single plane! Of course, then he was thought a visionary, and that not a quarter of a century ago; yet now we have two railroads crossing the mountain without the use of a plane, and the circumstance appears to attract no other remark than that of ineffable disgust at the old fogies who could not make a road to cross the Apalachian chain without the tedious operation of being hoisted up and lowered down by stationary engines.

The era of "flush times" in the valley must have been when the canal was building. Splendid fortunes were made, and vast sums of money sunk, by the wild speculations which followed the advent of the contractors and the sudden rise of property lying along the river. As an instance of the briskness of the times in the valley when the canal was building, an old settler informs us that Frankstown at that time contained fourteen stores, five taverns, and four roulette tables. At present, we believe, it contains but two or three stores, one tavern, and no gambling apparatus to relieve the reckless of their surplus change.

The completion of the canal was the great event of the day, and the enthusiasm of the people could scarcely be kept within bounds when the ponderous boats commenced ploughing the ditch. This will be readily believed by any one who will read the papers published at the time. From a paper printed in Lewistown on the 5th of November, 1829, we learn that a packet-boat arrived at that place from Mifflin on the Thursday previous, and departed again next day, having on board a number of members of the Legislature, as well as citizens and strangers. The editor, in speaking of the departure, enthusiastically says:—"The boat was drawn by two white horses, when she set off in fine style, with the 'star-spangled banner' flying at her head, and amid the roar of cannon, the shouts of the populace, and the cheering music of the band which was on board." Reader, this was a little over twenty-six years ago; and the jubilee was over a packet capable of accomplishing the mighty task of carrying some forty or fifty passengers at the rate of about four miles an hour.

The climax of joy, however, appears to have been reached by the editor of the Huntingdon Gazette, on the 15th of July, 1831, when he became jubilant over the launch of a canal-boat, and gave vent to the following outburst:—"What! a canal-boat launched in the vicinity of Huntingdon! Had any one predicted an event of this kind some years back, he, in all probability, would have been yclept a wizard, or set down as beside himself!"

These gushings of intensified joy, although they serve to amuse now, do not fail to convey a useful lesson. Let us not glory too much over the demon scream of the locomotive as it comes rattling through the valley, belching forth fire and smoke, or the miraculous telegraph which conveys messages from one end of the Union to the other with the rapidity with which a lover's sigh would be wafted from the Indies to the Pole; for who knows but that the succeeding generation, following in the footsteps made by the universal law of progress, will astonish the world with inventions not dreamed of in our philosophy, which will throw our electric-telegraphs and railroads forever in the shade?

For eighteen years, with the exception of the winter months, the canal packet held sway in the Juniata Valley, carrying its average of about thirty passengers a day from the East to the West, and vice versâ. When hoar old winter placed an embargo upon the canal craft, travel used to dwindle down to such a mere circumstance that a rickety old two-horse coach could easily carry all the passengers that offered. Who among us that has arrived at the age of manhood does not recollect the packet-boat, with its motley group of passengers, its snail pace, its consequential captain, and its non-communicative steersman, who used to wake the echoes with the "to-to-to-to-toit" of his everlasting horn and his hoarse cry of "lock ready?" The canal-packet was unquestionably a great institution in its day and generation, and we remember it with emotions almost akin to veneration. Right well do we remember, too, how contentedly people sat beneath the scorching rays of a broiling sun upon the packet, as it dragged its slow length along the sinuous windings of the canal at an average speed of three and a half or four miles an hour; and yet the echo of the last packet-horn has scarcely died away when we see the self-same people standing upon a station-house platform, on the verge of despair because the cars happen to be ten minutes behind time, or hear them calling down maledictions dire upon the head of some offending conductor who refuses to jeopardize the lives of his passengers by running faster than thirty miles an hour!

At length, after the canal had enjoyed a sixteen years' triumph, people began to consider it a "slow coach;" and, without much debate, the business-men of Philadelphia resolved upon a railroad between Harrisburg and Pittsburg. The project had hardly been fairly determined upon before the picks and shovels of the "Corkonians" and "Fardowns" were brought into requisition; but, strange to say, this giant undertaking struck no one as being any thing extraordinary. It was looked upon as a matter of course, and the most frequent remarks it gave rise to were complaints that the making of the road did not progress rapidly enough to keep pace with the progress of the age. And, at length, when it was completed, the citizens of Lewistown did not greet the arrival of the first train with drums, trumpets, and the roar of cannon; neither did any Huntingdon editor exclaim, in a burst of enthusiasm, on the arrival of the train there, "What! nine railroad cars, with six hundred passengers, drawn through Huntingdon by a locomotive! If any person had predicted such a result some years ago, he would have been yclept a wizard, or set down as one beside himself."

The Pennsylvania Railroad once finished, although it failed to create the surprise and enthusiasm excited by the canal, did not fail to open up the valley and its vast resources. Independent of the great advantage of the road itself, let us see what followed in the wake of this laudable enterprise. The railroad created the towns of Altoona, Fostoria, Tipton, and Tyrone; its presence caused the building of three plank roads, and the opening of extensive coal and lumber operations in the valley, and kindred enterprises that might never have been thought of. Nor is this all. A rage for travel by railroad has been produced by the Pennsylvania Company; and there is good reason to believe that it will increase until at least three more roads tap the main artery in the Juniata Valley,—the railroad from Tyrone to Clearfield, from the same place to Lock Haven, and from Spruce Creek to Lewisburg. These roads will unquestionably be built, and at no remote period. The Pennsylvania Road has now facilities for doing business equal to those of any road of the same length in the world; and, when a second track is completed, it is destined, for some years at least, to enjoy a monopoly of the carrying trade between Pittsburg and Philadelphia. Much as we regret it, for the sake of the Commonwealth which expended her millions without any thing like an adequate return, the canal is rapidly falling into disuse, and we see, with deep regret, that it has become entirely too slow for the age in which we live. With all the vitality forced into it that can be, we confess we can see no opposition in it to the road but such as is of the most feeble kind; yet all will agree that this opposition, trifling as it is, should continue to exist until such a time as other routes shall be opened between these points, and healthy competition established. But let us not dwell too much upon our modes of transit through the valley, lest the historian of a hundred years hence will find our remarks a fitting theme for ridicule, and laugh at us because we speak in glowing terms of a single railroad, and that road with but a single track for more than half its distance!

In order to give the reader a little insight into the progress which has been made in the valley, let us turn statistician for a time, with the understanding, however, that we shall not be held responsible for the accuracy of dates.

Less than twenty-six years ago, George Law sat upon the left bank of the Juniata, two miles west of Williamsburg, cutting stones for building two locks at that place. Now the aforesaid Law is supposed to be worth the snug little sum of six millions of dollars, and not long since was an aspirant for the presidential chair!

Thirty years ago, when Frankstown was a place of some note, Hollidaysburg contained but a few scattered cabins. In fact, twenty years ago it was "to fortune and to fame unknown;" yet it now contains a population (including that of Gaysport) that will not fall much short of four thousand.

Less than twenty-five years ago, Dr. P. Shoenberger, while returning from Baltimore with $15,000 in cash, fell in with the celebrated robber Lewis on the Broad Top Mountain. The intention of Lewis, as he afterward acknowledged, was to rob him; but the doctor, although he was unacquainted with his fellow-traveller, had his suspicions awakened, and, by shrewd manœuvering, succeeded in giving him the slip. Had the $15,000 in question fallen into the hands of the robber, Dr. Shoenberger would have been bankrupt, and the probability is that he would have lived and died an obscure individual. Instead of that, however, the money freed him from his embarrassments, and he died, but a few years ago, worth between four and five millions of dollars—more than one-half of which he accumulated by manufacturing iron in the Valley of the Juniata.

Less than sixteen years ago, a gentleman named Zimmerman was a bar-keeper at the hotel of Walter Graham, Esq., at Yellow Springs, in Blair county, afterward a "mud-boss" on the Pennsylvania Canal, and subsequently a teamster at Alleghany Furnace. At the present day the said Samuel Zimmerman owns hotels, palaces, a bank of issue, farms, stocks, and other property, at Niagara Falls, in Canada, which swell his income to $150,000 per annum. He is but thirty-eight years of age. Should he live the length of time allotted to man, and his wealth steadily increase, at the end of threescore-and-ten years he can look upon ordinary capitalists, who have only a few millions at command, as men of limited means.

Let it not he presumed, however, that we notice these capitalists from any adoration of their wealth or homage to the men, but merely because their history is partially identified with the valley, and to show in what a singular manner the blind goddess will sometimes lavish her favors; for hundreds of men without money, but with brighter intellects and nobler impulses than ever were possessed by Zimmerman, Law, or Shoenberger, have gone down to the grave "unwept, unhonored, and unsung," in the Juniata Valley. Neither will the soughing of the west wind, as it sweeps through the valley, disturb their repose any more than it will that of the millionaires when resting from "life's fitful fever" in their splendid mausoleums.

Less than ten years ago a railroad from Huntingdon to Broad Top was deemed impracticable. Since then, or, we may say, within the last four years, a substantial railroad has been built, reaching from the borough of Huntingdon to Hopewell, in Bedford county, a distance of thirty-one miles; and the cars are now engaged in bringing coal from a region which, but a few years ago, was unexplored. In addition to the main track, there is a branch, six miles in length, extending to Shoup's Run. The coal-field contains eighty square miles of territory; and from the openings made at Shoup's Run and Six Mile Run semi-bituminous coal has been taken the quality of which cannot be surpassed by any coal-fields in the world. Along the line of the road quite a number of villages have sprung up. The first is Worthington, some thirteen miles from Huntingdon. The next is Saxton, twenty-six miles from Huntingdon. Coalmont is the name of a flourishing village growing up on Shoup's Run, about a mile below the lowest coal-veins yet opened. Barret is located about two miles farther up; and Broad Top City is located upon the summit of the mountain, at the terminus of the Shoup's Run Branch, at which place a large three-story stone hotel has been built, and a number of lots disposed of, on which purchasers are bound to build during the summer of 1856.

Less than eight years ago the author of these pages, while on a gunning expedition, travelled over the ground where Altoona now stands. It was then almost a barren waste. A few fields, a solitary log farm-house and its out-buildings, and a school-house, alone relieved the monotony of the scene; yet now upon this ground stands a town with between three and four thousand inhabitants, where the scream of the engine is heard at all hours of the day and night,—where the roar of fires, the clang of machinery, and the busy hum of industry, never cease from the rising to the setting of the sun, and where real estate commands a price that would almost seem fabulous to those not acquainted with the facts. But of this enough.

Let us now proceed to examine the products of the valley. The lower end of it is a grain-growing region, the upper an iron-producing country; and it is owing to the mineral resources alone that the valley maintains the position it does and boasts of the wealth and population it now possesses. The Juniata iron has almost a worldwide reputation; yet we venture to say that many of our own neighbors know little about the immense amount of capital and labor employed in its manufacture. The following is a list of the iron establishments in the valley:—

In addition to these, there may be some few foundries in Juniata and Perry counties, but no furnaces or forges in that portion of them which lies in the valley proper.

It may be as well here to mention that the furnace of Watson, White & Co. is just completed; the Chimney Rock Furnace will be completed during the summer of 1856, as well as the furnace of Messrs. Smith & Caldwell, in Gaysport. These three furnaces follow the discovery of immense fossil ore-veins immediately back of Hollidaysburg, which are supposed to extend, in irregular strata, from the river east as far as the basin extends. In addition to this, in the Loop,—a basin lying between points of the Cove Mountain, south of Frankstown,—mines capable of the most prolific yield have also been opened. The ore, smelted with coke, is said to produce the best iron in market, and commands a ready sale at excellent prices. From the discoveries of ore-deposits already made, and those that will follow future explorations, it is but reasonable to infer that, during the next four or five years, the number of furnaces will be considerably augmented; and at this time there is a project on foot for building an extensive rolling-mill and nail-factory at Hollidaysburg.

The foregoing list of iron establishments numbers seventy-three, (and we are by no means certain that we have enumerated all,) and employ some six or seven thousand men, directly or indirectly, and the capital invested cannot possibly fall far short of five millions of dollars. And all this vast source of wealth and happiness is drawn from the bosom of mother earth in a valley a little over a hundred miles in length. We say it boldly, and challenge contradiction, that the iron-mines of the Juniata Valley have yielded more clear profit, and entailed more blessings upon the human family, than ever the same extent of territory did in the richest diggings of California.

But, great as the valley is, unquestionably half its resources have not yet been developed. Along the base of the mountain are vast seams of coal that have never been opened, and forests of the finest timber, which only await capital and enterprise to show the real extent of our coal and lumber region. Of the extent of the ore-fields of the valley no man can form any conception. Time alone can tell. Yet we are not without hope that ore will be found in such quantities, before the present generation shall have passed away, as shall make the valley a second Wales in its iron operations.

From De Bow's Census Compendium of 1850 we copy the following, set down as an accurate statement of the amount of capital, hands employed, and amount produced, in all the counties of the valley, by manufactures, in that year:—

This is manifestly an error; for we are satisfied that more capital and hands were employed in the iron business alone in 1850, leaving out Perry county, only a portion of which belongs to the valley proper. The gatherers of the statistics evidently did not enumerate the wood-choppers, charcoal-burners, teamsters, ore-diggers, and others, who labor for furnaces. Yet, granting that the statistics of the manufactures of the valley, as given in the census report, are correct, and we deduct a tenth for manufactures other than iron, we are still correct; for since then new furnaces, forges, and foundries have been built, the capacity of old ones greatly enlarged, and many that were standing idle in 1850 are now in successful operation. In Altoona alone, since then, 600 hands find steady employment in working up the Juniata iron at the extensive machine-shops and foundries of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company.

The following shows the population in 1840, and in 1850, together with the number of dwellings:—

If we add to Bedford the 7567 inhabitants taken from it to form Fulton county, we shall find that the population increased 19,192 in the valley, between 1840 and 1850. This may be rated as an ordinary increase. To the same increase, between 1850 and 1860, we may add the extraordinary increase caused by the building of the Pennsylvania and the Broad Top Railroads, which, we think, will increase the population to double what it was in 1840 by the time the next census is taken.

The number of dwellings in the valley, it will be observed, amounted, in 1850, to 20,083. Since then, five hundred buildings have been erected in Altoona, one hundred and fifty in Tyrone, five hundred in the towns and villages along the line of the Broad Top Road, a hundred along the line of the Pennsylvania Road, while the towns of Hollidaysburg, Huntingdon, McVeytown, Lewistown, Mifflin, and Newport, and, in fact, all the villages in the valley, have had more or less buildings erected during the past five years. A corresponding number erected during the next five years will, we venture to predict, bring the census return of buildings up to 40,000.

Let it also be remembered that the increase of population between 1840 and 1850 was made when the mania for moving to the West was at its height; when more people from the Juniata located in Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, and Indiana, than will leave us during the next twenty years, unless some unforeseen cause should transpire that would start a fresh tide of western emigration. The fact that many who have taken up their residences in the Far West would most willingly return, if they could, has opened the eyes of the people, in a measure; and many have become convinced that a man who cannot live and enjoy all the comforts of life on a fine Pennsylvania farm can do little better upon the prairies of Iowa or the ague-shaking swamps of Indiana. As an evidence that money may be made at home here by almost any pursuit, attended with perseverance, we may incidentally mention that a gentleman near Frankstown, who owns a small farm,—probably one hundred and sixty acres,—not only kept his family comfortable during the last year, but netted $1400 clear profit, being half the amount of the original purchase. Is there a farm of the same size in Iowa that produced to its owner so large a sum over and above all expenses? But, more than this, we can safely say, without fear of contradiction, that every acre of cultivated land in the Juniata Valley has, during the last two years, netted as much as the same amount of land in the most fertile and productive Western State in the Union. A large proportion of the people who have located in the West, actuated by that ruling passion of the human family—the accumulation of money, (mostly for dissipated heirs to squander,)—are engaged in speculating in lands. Now, we venture to say that the increase in the price of some of the lands in the Juniata Valley will vie with the rapid rise in the value of Western lands; and we are prepared to maintain our assertions with the proof. Some years ago a gentleman in Huntingdon county took a tract of timber-land, lying at the base of the mountain in Blair county, for a debt of some four or five hundred dollars. The debt was deemed hopelessly bad, and the land little better than the debt itself. Right willingly would the new owner have disposed of it for a trifle, but no purchaser could be found. Anon the railroad was built, and a number of steam saw-mills were erected on lands adjoining the tract in question, when the owner found a ready purchaser at $2500 cash. A gentleman in Gaysport, in the summer of 1854, purchased twelve acres of ground back of Hollidaysburg for seven hundred dollars. This sum he netted by the sale of the timber taken off it preparatory to breaking it up for cultivation. After owning it just one year, he disposed of it for $3000! A gentleman in Hollidaysburg, in the fall of 1854, bought three hundred and eighty acres of ground, adjoining the Frankstown Ore Bank, for three hundred and eighty dollars. The undivided half of this land was sold on the 22d of February, 1856, for $2900, showing an increase in value of about 1400 per cent. in fifteen months; and yet the other half could not be purchased for $5000. By this the land speculator will see that it is not necessary for him to go to the Far West to pursue his calling while real estate rises so rapidly in value at home.

Within a few years past, the Juniata country has been made a summer resort by a portion of the denizens of Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Pittsburg. From either city it is reached after but a few hours' travel. The romantic scenery, the invigorating air, and the pure water of the mountains, are attractions that must eventually outweigh those of fashionable watering-places, with their customary conventional restraints. The hotels erected along the line of the Pennsylvania Railroad are admirably adapted, and have been built with a view to accommodate city-folks who wish to ruralize during the summer months. Prominent among them we may mention the Patterson House, kept by General Bell; the House, kept by Mrs. C. C. Hemphill, at the Lewistown station; the Keystone Hotel, at Spruce Creek, kept by Colonel R. F. Haslett; the City Hotel, Tyrone City; the large hotel at Tipton; the Logan House, in Altoona; the two large hotels lately erected at Cresson, by Dr. Jackson, (capable of accommodating five hundred guests;) and Riffle's Mansion House at the Summit. In addition to these, all the larger towns contain excellent hotels. In short, we may say that the hotels of the valley, collectively, cannot be surpassed by country hotels anywhere.

The valley is not without its natural curiosities to attract the attention of the man of leisure. The Arch Spring and the Cave in Sinking Valley are probably among the greatest curiosities to be found in any country. The spring gushes from an opening arched by nature in such force as to drive a mill, and then sinks into the earth again. The subterranean passage of the water can be traced for some distance by pits or openings, when it again emerges, runs along the surface among rocky hills, until it enters a large cave, having the appearance of an immense tunnel. This cave has been explored as far as it will admit—some four hundred feet,—where there is a large room, and where the water falls into a chasm or vortex, and finds a subterranean passage through Canoe Mountain, and emerges again at its southern base, along which it winds down to Water Street and empties into the river.

Another of these subterranean wonders is a run back of Tyrone City, where it sinks into the base of a limestone ridge, passes beneath a hill, and makes its appearance again at the edge of the town.

The most remarkable spring, however, is one located on the right bank of the river, some seven miles below Hollidaysburg. The peculiar feature about this spring is the fact that it ebbs and flows with the same regularity the tides do. The admirer of natural curiosities may arrive at it when it is brimming full or running over with the purest of limestone water; yet in a short time the water will commence receding, and within an hour or two the hole in the ground alone remains. Then a rumbling noise is heard up the hill-side, and soon the water pours down until the spring is again overflowed.

In the town of Williamsburg, on the property of John K. Neff, Esq., there is a remarkable spring. It throws out a volume of water capable of operating a first-class mill, together with other machinery, although the distance from the spring to the river does not exceed the eighth of a mile.

At Spang's Mill, in Blair county, is by far the largest spring in the upper end of the valley. It has more the appearance of a small subterranean river breaking out at the hill-side than that of a spring. It is about three hundred yards long, varying in width from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet. The water has a bluish-green tinge, and is so exceedingly pure that a drop of it placed under a microscope would show fewer animalculæ than a drop of river-water would after being filtered. Formerly it contained thousands upon thousands of the finest brook trout; but of late years the number has been considerably diminished by the sportsmen who could obtain permission from Mr. Spang to entice them from their element with the tempting fly. A hundred feet from what is considered the end of the spring, there is a large grist-mill driven by its waters, which empty into the eastern reservoir of the Pennsylvania Canal, after traversing a distance of about three miles. Within two miles from the head of the spring, its waters furnish motive-power to two grist-mills, a saw-mill, and four forges.

As a singular circumstance in connection with this subject, we may mention that, within the memory of some of the older inhabitants, a considerable stream of water ran through the upper end of Middle Woodbury township, Bedford county; but the spring at the head of it gave out, as well as several other springs which fed it, and now scarcely any traces of it remain.

In facilities for teaching the rising generation the counties composing the valley are not behind any of their sister counties in the State, as the Common School Report for 1855 proves.

Ever mindful of the Giver of all good and his manifold mercies to mankind, the people of the Juniata region have reared fully as many temples to the worship of Almighty God as the same number of inhabitants have done in any land where the light of the gospel shines. The following table, compiled from the census statistics, shows the number of churches in 1850:—

During the six years that have elapsed since the above statistics were taken, quite a number of new churches have been erected—probably not less than twenty. Of this number four have been erected in Altoona and three in Tyrone City alone.

And now, worthy reader, our voluntarily-assumed task is ended. As we glance over the pages of our work, we are made painfully aware of the fact that many of the narratives given are too brief to be very interesting. This is owing altogether to the fact that we chose to give unvarnished accounts as we received them, broken and unconnected, rather than a connected history garnished with drafts from the imagination. In thus steering clear of the shoals of fiction,—on which so many historians have wrecked,—we conceive that we have only done our duty to those who suggested to us this undertaking.

We are strongly impressed with the idea that a history of the early settlement of the valley should have been written a quarter of a century ago. Then it might have made a volume replete with all the stirring incidents of the times, for at that period many of the actors in the trials and struggles endured were still among us, and could have given details; while we were compelled to glean our information from persons on the brink of the grave, whose thoughts dwelt more upon the future than on the past.

The modern history of the valley will be a subject for the pen of the historian a quarter of a century hence. We have given him a hint of some occurrences during the last half century; and for further particulars, during the next twenty-five years, we would refer him to the twenty newspapers published in the seven counties, from whose columns alone he will be able to compile an interesting history, sparing himself the trouble of searching among books, papers, and old inhabitants, for incidents that, unfortunately, never were recorded.

The future of the valley no man knoweth. We even tax the Yankee characteristic in vain when we attempt to guess its future. Many yet unborn may live to see the fires of forges and furnaces without number illuminating the rugged mountains, and hear the screams of a thousand steam-engines. They may live, too, to see the day when population shall have so increased that the noble stag dare no longer venture down from the mountain to slake his thirst at the babbling brook, and when the golden-hued trout, now sporting in every mountain-stream, shall be extinct. But, before that time, there is reason to believe that the present generation, including your historian, will have strutted upon the stage the brief hour allotted to them, performed life's pilgrimage, and, finally, arrived at

STEREOTYPED BY L. JOHNSON & CO.
PHILADELPHIA.