Keep Following The River

The sun's bright rays expanded over the rushing river, a testament to the resilience of Mary Draper Ingles.  The river's mighty force in this settled wilderness. Mary, a beacon of strength, rested on the bank, always keeping an eye on everything. The luxury of civilization was far gone, with so many awful memories. Everything was an enemy out in this expanse, including the crazy Dutchwoman.  Mary felt a little more rested but as can be trying to traverse these woods.  It was only a dream to get away from the Shawnee. They were just living peacefully in their village in Draper Meadow, Virginia.  The many memories of growing up on the frontier with her parents. The new world seemed exciting, as it offered the opportunity to start a whole new chapter in history.  Too many nights were the nightmares of the Draper Meadow Massacre. They dragged her and her children along with others to the unforgiving wilderness. Mary focused on her goal to return to her loving husband, William.  Her thoughts never did lose the memory of her son, who was taken to another village, and her baby, who would never have survived this escape.  The miles turned long as just surviving was the goal.  

Each stone and stick was harsh against the worn shoes. The women's captives never had any need, but the work was brutal as they were held during the French and Indian War.  Her relatives had been caught up in this conflict, but they never expected to be in the middle of it.  Only the long walk from over a month.  Mary then saw a fresh dead animal and was grateful for something.  A fire was warm as she cooked her meat, making sure that nothing was trying to steal or even kill her.  Her companion was not seen on the other side, but she had been quieted the last few days.  She was just grateful for another day of being alive despite her tired feet.  Mary told herself she kept following the river and did not look back, even if it was her baby. Tears were not acceptable on this journey without even seeing her after being sent to another village.   The fire reminded her of the warmth that she felt.  However, never being too comfortable was the key to survival. The meat smelled, but it was a good meal, and perhaps only one a day was enough.  Mary did not expect the crazy Dutchwoman to try to kill her.  So, Mary traveled on the opposite side of the river to maintain her distance.  The agreement was fulfilled, but then being alone had its effect.

Everything had gone wrong, but it was so maddening.  The scream could be heard from miles around as Mary could only express her time from the attack.  The evening was coming, and a shelter near the river was still needed. Her primitive bed on the soft ground and even the bugs did not bother her that much anymore.  The tiredness overcame her vulnerable state, with even larger creatures coming out to hunt. The river was the hope but filled with its own dangers.  Rest was what was needed as the night succumbed.  Some berries were a welcome breakfast and much-needed energy for a long day's journey.  It was a rainy day, and the river started to come up the banks.  She was glad for the rest but now for the fearsome, untamed forest.   The trees were so thick that one could get lost in the wrong path.  Still, her husband was waiting for her at the end with welcome arms.  Her thoughts of her baby had to be pushed away as the child would never have survived.  This was a long trek for just an adult, let alone a small child.  The woods still had to be the path of uncertainty until the wild river retreated.  The river was her lifeline, her home to civilization, without her beloved children.

Days had passed with the long dredge and the riverbank finally clearing.   The crazy Dutchwoman was seen across the way. Her scowl and look were ever present as if she wanted to even eat poor Mary.  It must be time to cross the river at a less hectic part.  The dread in Mary could only be seen as she grabbed her tree branch to help her float.  The Dutchwoman simply swam across remarkably well despite her dress, but it was revealed a branch was keeping her afloat.  Her laughter could be heard as it was becoming more sinister, but both had agreed to leave each other alone.  Fear was never an option, despite everything that could kill her out here, including humans.  The journey must have continued as William was still alive.  Her fate was her own as she landed on the banks of the other side. Her feet would not deter her despite the constant pain and the two months of walking that had passed.  Even the cold weather was not going to let her survive.  Even when that passed, the journey was not finished.  Just keep following the river, and you will find a home running through her head.   The days were long, but the nights were longer.   The other side was not any safer, but being alive was all she could count on now.  The mud and the rain were nothing now, and with little food, every bite was her survival. The fickle deal she made with the Dutchwoman, promising to leave each other alone, was a testament to her resilience and adaptability.

The capture was horrible, and being dragged through the thick forest was haunting her.   Mary was exhausted, but she had to be closer to her home.  She still had her tomahawk as it was her only means of defense.  The land seemed vast, and the river never ended, but it had to lead back to Draper's Meadow.  The happy memories were keeping her sanity as the whole trip was wearing her down.  Yet it seemed that the journey might finally come to an end.  So many miles and endless fears could stop.  Still, Mary had to be alert to even her own traveling companion and the fickle deal she made.  It had been almost three months since she left the village and the hard labor she was made to do.  Her child was still left behind, along with her son, who was moving to another town.  Only God held their fates now as she traveled by the banks looking for any kind of food source. Even a song helped the journey as she found some blackberries in the forest.  Their sweetness as she remembered her child's laughter, despite her coldness, but she was lighthearted in her hope. The many struggles Mary faced for so long just to survive. Mary's heart was torn between her past and her present, making her journey all the more difficult yet necessary.  Any wrong step could cost Mary her life.

The river was finally merging, and the wilderness looked so familiar that moving kept her warm throughout the journey.   She was nearing her home and was ready for the long-awaited reunion with her William. On the bank, she set up for the night and could see some way home and hope for the first time in so many months. As she rested, she could try to imagine the warmth of her fireplace as William played a tune.  It was the life she loved in such a beautiful meadow until the raid.  Out of nowhere, she was attacked, and the crazy Dutchwoman was ready for the kill.  The branches shattered as both women struggled on the ground. Both trying to survive, and Mary could only push the old woman off her as she ran straight for the forest.   It was the morning, and the attack was nowhere. The crazy Dutchwoman looked madly for her but could not find her.  Her screams were heard as Mary simply just stayed hidden amongst the towering trees. Nothing was safe today.  This had been the second attack, and she broke the promise she had made from the start.  No travel was safe today, and she stayed hidden till she could sneak past her to get to her home colony of Virginia. The hours dragged as anything could kill, or that crazy lady could get her revenge.  It was the long-awaited nightfall until she could maybe escape and lose her for good.  Still, the world seemed to close in so many times, and yet Mary was determined to finally return home.

The weather was cold, but the river had to be crossed. As the sunlight dimmed, Mary gently trekked the bank of the river, looking for any sign of the crazy Dutchwoman.   With no noise, she searched the bank and found a canoe.  Looking for the Native Americans, and yet none was in sight.  Mary pushed the canoe into the water and jumped in the boat to paddle to the other side.  There was no more excuse to keep up with the crazy Dutchwoman or care of her fate.   The river had to lead to some civilization now with the weariness of fatigue.  Her face could only show no more emotion.  Her body had enough, but she was going to make it across as the night began, and she could finally get some rest and travel the next day.  The darkness was even more fearsome than that day.  The many noises of animals and the fear of being attacked were ever on her mind.

The next morning, it was sunlight as the early start to gain some distance between her violent former companion.  The day kept flowing into another day, but at least she could follow the river without fear.  The walk lasted for at least four or five days as the weather continued to turn even colder.  Each step was closer to home, and I saw who was left again.  Finally, a cabin was in sight, and she could only be so overjoyed to see a friend, Adam Harman.  His look was of gratefulness to see her alive, and she was so glad to be amongst her own people.  The long treacherous journey had been long, but her husband was delighted to see her again.  The reunion was welcome, but the loss of children was still grievous. Yet Mary made it home. Her house was fixed and would be safe if winter was there. 

In spring, Mary convinced William to move to Fort Vause then again before another attack.  In retaliation, Mary told me where the village was in the territory, and the Shawnee had to pay the consequence.  It was a brutal time of bitter warfare that eventually ended when the French and Native Americans were defeated.   Mary had several more children but never saw the one left behind. Her one son was ransomed and had to be taught to live under English ways again.  Some of their fates are uncertain and would have been Mary's if she had not escaped.  She kept a journal that her son shared with her to tell her story.

The crazy Dutchwoman was found by a search party sometime later.  She was brought back to a fort. She returned on a wagon train back to Pennsylvania.  Her fate is unknown otherwise.  The journey drove her to the brink, but hopefully, she recovered from that.

This all occurred in 1755 and beyond during the French and Indian War.  The story is one of the courageous Mary Draper Ingles, who survived the impossible journey through the wilderness, facing the Native Americans, harsh elements, and wild animals.  The founding of America was not easy, and many faced hardships.  Her determination is evident in the lost history preceding the founding of the USA.   The fortitude of survival if she just kept following that river.  Her strength was great, and her legend still lives on in the story of her three-month journey in the wilderness that is now West Virginia.