Before night we came to Maysville, in Kentucky. This is quite a large village, with some appearance of thrift and prosperity.

Here we stopped for two hours or more—partly to take in one hundred and twenty head of cattle. Our number of passengers was not large—less, I believe, than one hundred—and probably did not much more than pay expenses, especially when they kept so extravagant a table. The fare to Pittsburg was $7. True, there was on board a large amount of freight of various kinds, which perhaps made up the deficiency.

But as the grave, according to Solomon, is never satisfied—never says enough—so the men who are engaged in carrying passengers and freight seem never satisfied as long as they can carry any more.

Those who drive large numbers of cattle from Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, &c., to New-York and the Eastern States, find it very tedious to drive them all the way by land, as well as very expensive; so they sometimes make a bargain with the superintendents of railroads and the captains of steamboats to have them transported.

The price paid for carrying one hundred and twenty cattle from Maysville to Pittsburg—above four hundred miles by water—was $4 50 each; or, in the whole, $540.

The cattle were to be brought upon the lower deck, next to the hold, and tied with short ropes to the posts and other timbers of the boat. But how were they to be got on board? I will describe the method.

The steamboat was brought close to the wharf, from which a broad platform, made of strong planks, was thrown across to the deck of the boat, forming a bridge. Still, however, the animals were afraid.

The difficulty was surmounted in the following manner: One old ox was procured who had been trained for the purpose, and was not at all afraid. A rope was attached to his horns, and he was slowly led on board, while the others, with a little urging, followed him. But as they could not manage more than six or eight at a time, the trained ox had to be led on board, and brought back again a great many times before the drove were fairly in their places.

One poor bullock made them a deal of trouble, after he was taken on board. Uneasy and restless, he somehow or other got loose, leaped overboard, and swam down the river about a mile, before a company in the long-boat could reach and secure him, and drive him back.

While this embarkation of the cattle was going on, I went on shore and took a survey of the village. It is the most important place in this part of Kentucky, containing, as I judged, some four or five thousand inhabitants, and having considerable trade, with some manufactures.

This place was formerly called by the characteristic name of Limestone, and was one of the first-settled places in the state. The famous Daniel Boone at one time resided here; and an old shattered warehouse is shown to travelers, which, it is said, he built.