2 stories really got me interested in local history. 1 was versions of Bethel's witch trial of Nancy Evans. 2nd was the story of Williamsburg's lost Lydia Osborn. And I just found a digital version of that tale to share with you. Likely the cattle were in the "out-lots " to the west-nw of Williamsburg-an area cleared by a pre-1797 twister. But Lydia seems to have wandered n e,instead of s e to Williamsburg. In the year 1805, when all the region of country bordering upon the Ohio river was a wilderness, and only here and there were villages, which had sprung up in the vicinity of forts -- such, for instance, as Marietta, at Fort Harmar, and Cincinnati, at Fort Washington -- and the savages roamed unmolested over the broad prairies and through the dense forests of the west, a scene occurred at a settlement about thirty miles north-east of Cincinnati, which produced the most astonishing excitement throughout the whole surrounding country. There lived at this settlement a family by the name of Osborn, which consisted of the father, and mother, and two daughters, the elder of whom was about eleven years of age and the younger about seven. In those days of backwoods life every member of the family was employed, from necessity, in farming pursuits, and almost as soon as a child was able to walk it was taught to engage in some employment connected with rural life. While the father was engaged in attending his small patch of corn, and the mother was attending her domestic concerns, of cooking, knitting, spinning, or weaving, the children would be employed, if sons, in assisting the father in the field or barn; and if daughters, in helping the mother in domestic duties. It was usually the duty of the younger boys to hunt the cows, which were left to run in the woods, and sometimes were difficult to find. As there were no boys in this family, it devolved upon the girls to search the ranges of the cattle, and drive home the cows. One afternoon in the latter part of summer the little girls of the Osborn family started out on their accustomed pursuit. After finding the cows, which they were enabled to do by the tinkling of their bells, they started to drive them home. The elder girl, having become bewildered, supposed, from the direction the cows took, that they were going from instead of toward home. Fully impressed with this belief, she requested her little sister to stay where she was, and she would run and head them, and turn them in the right direction. But the cows, intent on going home, would not be diverted from their course. What to do she knew not; and fearing that her sister would be lost, she left the cattle, and started on hunt of her; but alas! how did her young heart ache when, after wandering about for a long while, and crying out her name in the woods, she could not find her! Sadly she started, without her sister, in the direction of home, as she supposed; but instead of this, the poor, bewildered child took an opposite direction from her father's cabin. The younger girl followed the sound of the cow-bells, and arrived safely at home; but Lydia -- for that was her name -- wandered on, and was lost in the wilderness. Night came on, casting its darkened shadows over the forest, but she came not to greet the anxious eyes of her parents, which were growing sorrowful and dim with watching. No time was to be lost; their child was in the woods, exposed to the savages and wild beasts. The neighborhood was roused with the alarm of "Lost child!" The cry became general, like the cry of fire at night in a country village. Every heart was touched, and soon, in every direction, torches were seen flashing their light into the darkness of the forest. Bells were rung, horns were blown, and guns were fired through the woods, in perchance, the sound might reach the ear of the lost one. The whole night was spent in a fruitless search. The news flew in every direction, and reached the settlement where we resided, and as many as could leave home turned out to seek for the lost child. This day was also spent in vain, though some signs of her tracks in crossing branches and miry places were discovered, all, however, indicating that she was going farther into the wilderness. On the third day the famous backwoodsman and hunter, Cornelius Washburn, arrived, with about five hundred others. Washburn was accompanied by his noted hunting-dog, of which it was said he would follow any scent his master would put him upon. At length the night of the third day arrived, but still no intelligence of the lost child. We were now deep in the wilderness, and we all made preparations for camping out that night. After lighting our fires, and taking some refreshment, we retired to rest by lying down upon the ground by our camp-fires. At daybreak we were up again, and ready for our search ; but as the collection of people was so numerous, we concluded it was best to form ourselves into companies, and take different directions, and meet at night at a place designated, and report in relation to our discoveries. Money was collected and sent to the settlements to buy provisions, to be brought to the place of rendezvous. Every day we received accessions to our numbers, so that on the seventh day it was supposed there were more than a thousand persons gathered from all parts of the country, and many from Kentucky. The seventh night was spent on the head waters of the East Fork of the Little Miami. Washburn reported that he had discovered where the little girl had slept for several nights. The place she had selected was where one tree had fallen across another, which was lying down, and afforded a good protection. He also saw where she had plucked and eaten some fox-grapes and whortleberries. To this place the whole crowd hurried. Nothing could have restrained them, so eager were they to find the lost child, or some clue that would lead to her discovery. In all these journeyings the father was present, and so absorbed in grief at the loss of his dear Lydia, that he could neither eat nor sleep. Sorrow drank up his spirits, and he refused to be comforted. When hope was kindled in his heart that his child would be found, he seemed like one frantic, and flew in every direction, calling most piteously the name of his child but she was not there, her little feet had borne her to some other quarter of the wildwood. It was agreed the next morning that all the company should start out abreast, about three rods apart, with a man in the middle, and one at each end of the line, whose duty it was to blow horns at certain intervals for the purpose of keeping the line in order. It was an immense line, extending for several miles. Each man was instructed to examine carefully every branch and wet place, and every hollow log and thicket, to see if any traces of her were discoverable. Thus, day after day, and night after night, the search went on, till sixteen days were passed away in the fruitless endeavor to find her. In the mean time, some of the company having lost all hope of finding her, returned home, but others came and filled their places, so that on no day were there less than one thousand persons on the search. On the fourteenth day, accompanied by two others, we took across to the North Fork of Whiteoak, and carefully searched the banks of that stream for miles. On the morning of the fifteenth day we found where she had crossed, by her footprints in the sand, at the water's edge. These footprints appeared to be fresh, and greatly revived our hopes. We were now distant from the main body of men several miles; and while one of our number was dispatched to communicate the intelligence, we proceeded to follow up a fork of the creek which puts in just where her footprints were found Here there was an opening on the bottom land, where there was a large blackberry patch nearly a quarter of a mile in length. Near this patch we found a neat little house, built of sticks, nicely adjusted. It was covered with sticks, and over these were placed, in regular layers, pieces of moss taken from the logs and sides of trees in the neighborhood. The cracks were all neatly stopped with moss. In the center, on one side, was a little door, and in the interior was a bed made of leaves, covered with moss, and decorated with wild flowers. All could see at once that it was the work of a child; and we may have been childish while gazing upon it; for the tears stole freely down our cheeks. Here, away in the wilderness, far from human habitation, had this lost child constructed this miniature house, and thus recalled the scenes of home, and sister, and mother, and father. The child must have been here several days; for, from her little house to the blackberry patch, she had beaten quite a path, and some parts of the patch were picked quite bare. We imagined that we had at last found the place where the little wanderer had fixed her abode; but now that we had got in reach of the prize, how to take it was the question. To make a noise would frighten her away to some hiding-place where she could not be found; for children, when lost, become wild as the antelope in this native forest, and if caught will make every possible resistance, even looking upon their best friends as enemies. Supposing that she was not far off, and would return to her house, we removed to a short distance, where we would be unobserved, and sat down to wait her coming. But there were no signs of her returning, and fearing lest we might be discovered by the lost child, we stole softly under covert, from tree to tree, and cleared the opening. Ascending an eminence, where we had a full view of the black berry patch, we carefully scanned every part of it, and were satisfied that she was not there. Returning again, and making a more thorough examination, we could discover no fresh signs of her presence, and we concluded to return to the main creek, and wait for the company, and prevent, if possible, the press of the eager crowd from rushing on and destroying what signs might yet remain undiscovered. It is said that there were more than a thousand men encamped along the creek that night. The encampment extended for half a mile. Fearing the consequences of making a disclosure of what we had seen at the blackberry patch, we kept it a secret till morning, and then taking aside the best woodsmen in the company, we led them to the house of the child. We then returned and formed the whole company into military order, and marched them out into the opening, where, flanking out right and left, they surrounded the entire space, and formed a hollow square. At the sight of the little cabin a scene occurred which it would be impossible to describe. Here were brave, stalwart men, who had been subjected to the perils of the wilderness, contending for every inch with savages and wild beasts, whose hearts were never known to quail with fear, who, at sight of that little cabin, were melted into tears. Some, as if deeming it unmanly to weep, or to be seen manifesting so much human sympathy, turned aside, while others left the ranks to give vent to their feelings in solitude. But when the father came up to the little dwelling his own dear child had built for herself and exclaimed, "O, Lydia, Lydia, my dear child, are you yet alive!" a thousand hearts broke forth in uncontrollable grief. The result of the investigation made by the hunters was, that the signs were three or four days old. Horsetracks were also found in the grass, supposed to be about the same age. The conjecture was, that she had been discovered and taken away by some hunters, or a party of Indians. It was agreed, however, to make another effort. The company was divided, and sent out in different directions, to see if any further signs could be found of hunters or Indians. Two miles from "Lydia's camp" -- for so it is called to this day -- her bonnet was found hanging on a bush, and eight or ten miles further off, an Indian camp was discovered, supposed to have been vacated for five or six days. The conclusion was that the child had been carried off by the Indians, none knew where. Further pursuit being considered useless, the company disbanded, and returned to their homes. Not so, however, with the father. The love of his child was to him sweeter than life. He never gave up the search, but penetrated the wildest solitudes, and sought for her among the Indians till the day of his death. The lost was never found. CHAPTER ________________________________________________________________ YOU'RE PAYING TOO MUCH FOR THE INTERNET! Juno now offers FREE Internet Access! Try it today - there's no risk! For your FREE software, visit: http://dl.www.juno.com/get/tagj.