hardships and privations, and was then a member of the Methodist Episcopal church. There was a tone of candor and sincerity, as well as modesty, in his manner of relating the thrilling scenes in which he had been an actor, which left no doubt of their truth in the minds of those who heard him. He was one of Wayne's legion, and was in the battle of the Fallen Timber, on the 20th of August, 1794. At the commencement of the onset, just after entering the fallen timber, Hunt was rushing on and about to spring over a fallen tree, when he was fired at by an Indian concealed behind it. The latter was compelled to fire in such haste that he missed his aim. It was, however, a close shave, for the bullet whizzed through the lock of his right temple, causing that ear to ring for an hour after. The Indian's body was entirely naked from the waist up, with a red stripe painted up and down his back. As soon as he fired he took to his heels. Hunt aimed at the centre of the red stripe, the Indian running zig-zag "like the worm of a fence." When he fired, the Indian bounded up and fell forward. He had fought his last battle. He was an excellent hunter. In the winter of 1793, while the army lay at Greenville, he was employed to supply the officers with game, and in consequence was exempted from garrison duty. The sentinels had orders to permit him to leave and enter the fort whenever he chose. The Indians made a practice of climbing trees in the vicinity of the fort, the better to watch the garrison. If a person was seen to go out, notice was taken of the direction he went, his path ambushed and his scalp secured. To avoid this danger, Hunt always left the fort in the darkness of night, for said he, "when once I had got into the woods without their knowledge, I had as good a chance as they. He was accustomed, on leaving the fort, to proceed some distance in the direction he intended to hunt the next day, and bivouac for the night. To keep from freezing to death, it was necessary to have a fire; but to show a light in the enemy's country was to invite certain destruction. To avoid this danger he dug a hole in the ground with his tomahawk, about the size and depth of a hat crown. Having prepared it properly, he procured some roth, meaning thick white-oak bark, from a dead tree, which will retain a strong heat when covered with its ashes. Kindling a fire from flint and steel at the bottom of his "coal pit," as he termed it, the bark was severed into strips and placed in layers crosswise, until the pit was full. After it was sufficiently ignited it was covered over with dirt, with the exception of two air holes in the margin, which could be opened or closed at pleasure. Spreading down a layer of bark or brush to keep him off the cold ground, he sat down with the coal pit" between his legs, enveloped himself in his blanket, and slept catdozes in an upright position. If his fire became too much smothered, he would freshen it up by blowing into one of the air holes. He declared he could make himself sweat whenever he chose. The snapping of a dry twig was sufficient to awaken him, when, uncovering his head, he keenly scrutinized in the darkness and gloom around-his right hand on his trusty rifle "ready for the mischance of the hour." A person now, in full security from danger, enjoying the comforts and refinements of civilized life, can scarcely bring his mind to realize his situation, or do justice to the powers of bodily endurance, firmness of nerve, self-reliance and courage, manifested by him that winter. A lone man in a dreary, interminable forest swarming with enemies, bloodthirsty, crafty and of horrid barbarity, without a friend or human being to afford him the least aid, in the depth of winter, the freezing winds moaning through the bare and leafless branches of the tall trees, while the dismal howling of a pack of wolves "Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave; Burning for blood, bony, gaunt and grim, might be heard in the distance, mingled with the howlings of the wintry winds, were well calculated to create a lonely sensation about the heart and appall any common spirit. There would he sit, nooding in his blanket, undistinguishable in the darkness from an old stump, enduring the rigor of winter, keeping himself from freezing, yet showing no fire, -calm, ready and prompt to engage in mortal combat, with whatever enemy might assail, whether Indian, bear or panther. At day-light he commenced hunting, proceeding slowly and with extreme caution, looking for game and watching for Indians at the same time. When he found a deer, previously to shooting it, he put a bullet in his mouth, ready for reloading his gun with all possible dispatch, which he did before moving from the spot, casting searching glances in every direction for Indians. Cautiously approaching the deer, after he had shot it, he dragged it to a tree and commenced the process of skinning with his back toward the tree, and his rifle leaning against it, in reach of his right hand. And so with his rear protected by the tree, he would skin a short time, then straighten up and scan in every direction, to see if the report of his rifle had brought an Indian in his vicinity, then apply himself to skinning again. If he heard a stick break, or any, the slightest noise indicating the proximity of animal life, he clutched his rifle instantly, and was on the alert prepared for any emergency. Having skinned and cut up the animal, the four-quarters were packed in the hide, which was so arranged as to be slung on his back like a knapsack, with which he wended his way to the fort. If the deer was killed far from the garrison, he only brought in the four-quarters. One day he got within gun-shot of three Indians unperceived by them. He was on a ridge and they in a hollow. He took aim at the foremost one, and waited some time for a chance for two to range against each other, intending, if they got in that position, to shoot two and take his chance with the other in single combat. But they continued marching in Indian file, and though he could have killed either of them, the other two would have made the odds against him too great, so he let them pass unmolested. Amidst all the danger to which he was constantly exposed, he passed unharmed. Owing to the constant and powerful exercise of the faculties, his ability to hear and discriminate sounds was wonderfully increased, and the perceptive faculties much enlarged. He made $70 that winter by hunting, over and above his pay as a soldier. At the treaty at Greenville, in 1795, the Indians seemed to consider Hunt as the next greatest man to Wayne himself. They inquired for him, got round him, and were loud and earnest in their praises and compliments: "Great man, Capt. Hunt-great warrior-good hunting man; Indian no can kill!" They informed him that some of their bravest and most cunning warriors had often set out expressly to kill him. They knew how he made his secret camp-fire, the ingenuity of which excited their admiration. The parties in quest of him had often seen him could describe the dress he wore, and his cap, which was made of a raccoon's skin with the tail hanging down behind, the front turned up and ornamented with three brass rings. The scalp of such a great hunter and warrior they considered to be an invaluable trophy. Yet they never could catch him off his guard-never get within shooting de tance, without being discovered and exposed to his death-dealing rifle. Many years age he went to Indiana, nor has the writer of this ever heard from him since, nor is it known among his old friends here whether he is living. Mr. T. C. Wright, who supplied the foregoing sketch of Josiah Hunt for our first edition, also gave the annexed historical sketch of Xenia, which name is said to be from a Greek word signifying friendship. Xenia was laid off in the forest, in the autumn of 1803, by Joseph C. Vance, on the land of John Paul, who gave the ground bounded by Main, Market, Detroit and Greene streets, for the public buildings. The first cabin was erected in April, 1804, by John Marshall, in the southwest corner of the town. The first good hewed log-house was erected for the Rev. James Fowler, of the Methodist persuasion, from Petersburg, Va.: it is still standing, and is now the hatter's shop, a short distance west of the old bank. David A. Sanders built the first frame house, on the spot occupied by the new bank; it is yet standing on Main street, in Gowdy's addition. The first supreme court was held Oct. 3, 1804. The grand jury held_their deliberations under a sugar tree in the rear of the present residence of James Gowdy. The first court of common pleas in Xenia was on the 15th of November, 1804, and was held by the associate judges. A license was granted to "William A. Beatty, to keep a tavern in the town of Xenia for one year, on the payment of $8.00!" This was the first tavern ever licensed in the place. It was a double hewed log-house, two stories high, and was in progress of erection at the same time with Fowler's house. It stood on the south side of Main street, opposite the public square, on the spot where there now is a two story brick house, occupied as a drug store. In the west room, above stairs, the court was held. The first election in the place was held in this house. It continued to be a tavern until after the last war with Great Britain, and, until Mr. James Collier built his brick tavern on Detroit street, was the grand hotel of the place. In a corner of the west room there was an old-fashioned bar-the upper part enclosed with upright slats of wood, with a little wicket, through which the grog was handed out in half pint glass cruets. In time of the war the recruiting officers put up at this house; and here might be seen the recruiting sergeant rattling dollars on a drum's head, and calling for half pints, appealing to the patriotism of the bystanders. tempting them with jingling dollars, and adding thereto the potency of whiskey, to enlist recruits for the army. Court continued to be held in this house for the years 1804 and 1805, and until a new court-house was built. In 1804 the building of the first jail was let to Amos Durough; it was received from the contractor in October. It stood on ground now covered by the new court-house, and was constructed of hewed logs. It was burnt down the year following; and in April, 18, a new jail was accepted from William A Beatty. It stood on the site of the present market house -was a rough log-building: two stories high, with a cabin roof, and was burnt down in time of the war with England. The building of the first court-house was let on the 8th day of April, 1806, to William [Both views were taken near the same stand-point, but showing different sides of the same street, and in time taken 40 years apart. The court-house is yet standing. A fine bank building now seen on the right side of the new picture occupies the site of the two-story store shown in the old view.] XENIA IN 1846.-Xenia, the county-seat, is on the Little Miami railroad, 64 miles north of Cincinnati, and 61 from Columbus. It is a handsome, flourishing and well-built town, with broad streets, and some fine stores and elegant dwellings. The engraving represents a part of the principal street: the court-house, shown on the left, is the most elegant, as yet built, in Ohio. Xenia contains 1 German Lutheran, 1 Methodist Episcopal, 1 Methodist Protestant, 1 Seceder, 1 Associate Reformed and 1 Baptist church, beside 2 churches for colored persons-two church edifices are erecting, one by the Presbyterian and the other by the Associate Reformed denomination-17 mercantile stores, 1 foundry, 2 newspaper printing offices, 1 bank, a classical academy in fine repute, and in 1840 had 1,414 inhabitants, and in 1847 about 2,800.--Old Edition. Xenia is 55 miles southwest of Columbus and 65 miles north of Cincinnati, on the line of the P. C. & St. L. and D. & I. R. R. It is the county-seat of Greene county. County officers in 1888: Probate Judge, John H. Cooper; Clerk of Court, John A. Cisco; Sheriff, Clement W. Linkhart; Prosecuting Attorney, J. N. Dean; Auditor, William R. Baker; Treasurer, F. E. McGervey, James A. Johnston; Recorder, S. N. Adams; Surveyor, Levi Riddle; Coroner, Addison S. Dryden; Commissioners, Moses A. Walton, Alfred Johnson, Henry H. Conklin. Newspapers: Democrat-News, Democrat; Republican, Republican, O. W. Marshall, editor; Gazette, Republican; Torchlight, Republican; Boss Painters' Journal, Trade. Churches: 2 Methodist, 3 United Presbyterian, 1 Reformed, 1 Lutheran, 1 Baptist, 1 Episcopal, 1 Catholic, 1 Old School Presbyterian, 2 Colored Methodist, 2 Colored Baptist, and 1 Colored Christian. Banks: Citizens National, J. D. Edwards, president, W. R. McGervey, cashier; Second National, Thomas P. Townley, president, Robert Lytle, cashier; Xenia National, John B. Allen, president, A. S. Frazer, cashier. Factories and Employees: J. P. & W. P. Chew, newspaper, 14 hands; N. F. Copenhaver, lumber, 5; Upham & Clayton, builders, wood work, 4; Leonard Smith & Co., linseed oil, 12; The Xenia Paper-Mill Company, brown paper, 25; The Field Cordage Company, 183; The Xenia Twine and Cordage Company, 94; Hoover & Allison Cordage, etc., 111.-State Report 1887. Population in 1880, 7026. School census in 1886, 2107. Edwin B. Cox, superintendent. Xenia is sometimes termed "the Twine City;" its three twine factories are said to be the largest west of the Alleghenies. In Xenia are two extensive gunpowder companies which do a large businessthe Miami Powder Company, whose mills are on the railroad five miles north of the city, and King's Great Western Powder Company, whose works are near Foster's Crossings on the Little Miami. THE POWDER MILL EXPLOSION. Notwithstanding the care taken the history of all powder works is marked by explosions of greater or less frequency. One of the heaviest of these occurred on the morning of March 1, 1886, at the works of the Miami Powder Company. Several had taken place at the same works in the intervals of years. A large dry house containing 50,000 pounds of powder at this time exploded, from some undiscovered cause. It was completely demolished; the fields about were strewn with débris, none of it larger than a man's hand. A car to which a horse had been harnessed could not be found; one of the large wheels was thrown to the other side of the Miami river, 500 yards distance. Of three men at work there the largest part found was a piece of backbone; other fragments being scattered necessitated the gathering up of the remains in bags and baskets. Part of an arm with other débris was found at Oldtown, a distance of two miles. Houses were injured and débris scattered for miles away. The scene among the families of the employees who flocked to the ruins was heartrending; as husbands, fathers and brothers came out uninjured, their families gathered about them and wept tears of joy. But to three women and their children the fathers and husbands came not. At Xenia every building was badly shaken and many windows broken. The people rushed out of their houses into the street fearing that the buildings were about to fall; while north of the city could be seen an immense white cloud of smoke and débris hanging over the scene of devastation. The cloud was photographed from Xenia. Reports of the explosion were heard 100 miles distant. A house three miles from the explosion was completely demolished and the covered bridge on the Yellow Springs turnpike, half a mile distant, was blown in ; while a number of people in the vicinity were so prostrated by the shock that they were confined to their beds for several days after. THE XENIA FLOOD. In May, 1886, the southern and western parts of Ohio were visited by perhaps the most severe storm or tornado known in the history of the State. The destruction of property was very great throughout several counties, but the greatest damage to life and property prevailed in Greene county, in and about Xenia. On the evening of Friday, May 14, 1886, between 8 and 9 o'clock, a violent storm of wind, rain and hail struck Xenia and grew in violence until about 12 o'clock. The wind came in a continual gale. At 10 o'clock the fire-bells rang an alarm, and the people came forth from their houses to assist in the rescue of the unfortunate. Owing to the dense darkness and the severity of the storm, they could only grope around and were not able to do much. Above the roar of the elements came frantic cries for help. It was found that Shawnee creek had burst its banks and was rising at the rate of one foot in every five minutes. The stream became a torrent and threatened to submerge the entire southern part of the town, through which it passed; houses on its banks were most all swept from their foundations or floated down the stream. The house of Aaron Ferguson was carried away and lodged against the Detroit street bridge, where nine persons were rescued from it. From this point to the Second street bridge the flood swept everything in its way. The dwellings were mostly occupied by poor people and the waters rose so rapidly that it was with the utmost difficulty that any were rescued. Screams and cries for help came from every quarter, and many acts of heroism were performed by the rescuers. Ladders and lanterns were procured to aid in the work, and huge bonfires kindled that the workers might see. Alongside the Springfield Railroad, in Barr's Bottoms, the destruction was terrible; of twenty houses only three remained. The gas works were flooded and coal-oil lamps were in use all over the town. The flood seemed to start at a small culvert on the Little Miami Railroad, where the water formed an immense lake rising to the top of the embankment, when it suddenly broke through and swept down upon the town. In some places where the houses were carried away the ground was washed as smooth as a floor, leaving not a vestige of plank or timber. It was prayer-meeting night in Xenia, and many people had attended the meetings, leaving their children at home alone; the storm detained them in the churches, but when they learned its disastrous results they rushed forth in an agony of apprehension for the safety of their children, who had, however, mostly been taken. to places of safety by rescuing parties. Their anguish while searching for the missing little ones was heartrending to see. Strong men wept and women wrung their hands while rushing hither and thither, and were filled with doubt, hope and dread. A house containing Orin Morris and family was seen floating down the stream, and the screams of the family could be heard above the roar of the relentless |