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(New York) Not sure if he was one of the Occupy protesters, but he sure looks terrified. Moments later, police would ride up and try to confine the protesters on the sidewalk
(POSED) She's several months away from getting her learner's. This exemplified both fascinating and terrifying for me, though.
CHAPTER XVIII
You will recall that at the beginning of the Last French War in 1756 the English colonies lived almost entirely between the Alleghany Mountains and the Atlantic Ocean. Such continued to be their narrow boundaries up to the beginning of the Revolutionary War. To understand how, at the end of this war, the western boundary had been extended to the Mississippi, we must turn our attention to those early western pioneers, the backwoodsmen, who rendered very important services to their country.
One of the most noted of these pioneers was Daniel Boone. He was born in Bucks County, Pa., in 1735. Caring little for books, he spent most of his time in hunting and fishing. The woods were his special delight, and naturally he became an expert rifleman.
The story is told that when a small boy he wandered one day into the forest some distance from home,[Pg 223] and built himself a rough shelter of logs. There he would spend days at a time with only his rifle and game for company. The rifle served to bring down the game, and this he cooked over a fire of logs. A prince might have envied his dreamless slumber as he lay on a bed of leaves with the skin of a wild animal for covering. This free, wild life trained him for his future career as a fearless hunter and woodsman.
The Kentucky Settlement. The Kentucky Settlement.
When Daniel was about thirteen years old his father moved to North Carolina and settled on the Yadkin River, where Daniel grew to manhood. After his marriage at the age of twenty, he built him a hut in the solitude of the wilderness, far removed from other settlers' homes.
Indian Costume (Female). Indian Costume (Female).
But Boone was restless. For years he looked with eager eyes toward the rugged mountains on the west and to the country beyond. Day by day, his desire to[Pg 224] visit this wild unknown region increased, until he could no longer restrain it. By the time he was twenty-five he had begun his explorations and had pushed his way as far as Boone's Creek, which is a branch of the Watauga River in Eastern Tennessee. Near this creek there yet stands a beech-tree with the inscription: "D. Boon cilled a bar on (this) tree in the year 1760."
Nine years after this date Daniel Boone, in company with five other men, started out on May 1st to cross the Alleghany Mountains. For five weeks the bold travellers picked their way through the pathless woods. But when in June they reached Kentucky, they were rewarded for all the hardships they had endured. For here was a beautiful country with an abundance of game, including deer, bears, and great herds of bison.
They promptly put up a shelter made of logs and open on one side. The floor of this camp, as it was called, was the earth, covered with leaves and hemlock twigs.
Indian Costume (Male). Indian Costume (Male).
Six months after their arrival Boone and a man named Stewart had an unpleasant experience. While off on a hunting expedition, they were captured by an Indian party. For seven days the dusky warriors carefully guarded their prisoners. But on the seventh night,[Pg 225] having gorged themselves with the game killed during the day, the Indians fell into a sound sleep. Boone, while pretending to be asleep, had been watching his opportunity. So when the right moment came he quietly arose, awoke Stewart, and the two crept stealthily away until out of hearing of the Indians. Then, leaping to their feet, they bounded away like deer, through the dark woods toward their camp. This they found deserted, and what had become of their friends they never learned.
Some weeks later Boone was pleasantly surprised by the appearance at the camp of his brother, Squire Boone, and a companion. The four men lived together without special incident, until one day Stewart was surprised and shot by some Indians. Stewart's death so terrified the man who had accompanied Squire Boone, that he gave up the wilderness life and returned to his home.
Boone and his brother remained together in the forest for three months longer, but their ammunition getting low, on May 1st Squire Boone returned to North Carolina for a fresh supply and for horses. Daniel was thus left alone, 500 miles from home. His life was in constant peril from wild beasts and Indians. He dared not sleep in his camp, but resorted at night to a canebrake or some other hiding-[Pg 226]place, where he lay concealed, not even kindling a fire lest its light might betray him. During these months of solitary waiting for his brother, Boone endured many privations. He had neither salt, sugar, nor flour, his sole food being game brought down by his rifle. But the return of his brother, in July, with the expected provisions, brought him much good cheer.
After two years of this experience in the wilderness, Daniel Boone returned to his home on the Yadkin to make preparations for removal. By September, 1773, he had sold his farm and was ready to go with his family to settle in Kentucky. His enthusiastic reports of the fertile country he had been exploring found eager listeners, and when his party was ready to start it included, besides his wife and children, five families and forty men, with a sufficient number of horses and cattle. Unhappily they were attacked on their way by Indians, and six men, one of them Boone's eldest son, were killed. Discouraged by this setback the party returned to the nearest settlement, and for a while longer the migration westward was postponed.
But it was Boone's unflinching purpose to settle in the beautiful Kentucky region. It had already become historic, for the Indians called it a "dark ground," a "bloody ground," and an old Indian Chief had related to Boone how many tribes had hunted and fought on its disputed territory.
None of the Indians held an undisputed claim to the land. Nevertheless a friend of Boone, Richard Henderson, and other white men made treaties with[Pg 227] the powerful Cherokees, who allowed them to settle here. As soon as it became certain that the Cherokees would not interfere, Henderson sent Boone in charge of thirty men to open a pathway from the Holston River, over Cumberland Gap to the Kentucky River. This is still known as the Wilderness Road, along which so many thousand settlers afterward made their way.
On reaching the Kentucky River, Boone and his men set to work to build a fort on the left bank of the stream. This fort they called Boonesborough. Its four stout walls consisted in part of the outer sides of log cabins and in part of a stockade, some twelve feet high, made by thrusting into the ground stout pieces of timber pointed at the top. There were loop-holes in all the cabins, and a loop-holed block-house at each corner of the fort.
Daniel Boone, the leader of this settlement, was a man of interesting personality. He was a tall, slender backwoodsman, with muscles of iron and a rugged nature that enabled him to endure great hardship. Quiet and serious, he possessed courage that never shrank in the face of danger. Men had confidence in him because he had confidence in himself. Moreover, his kind heart and tender sympathies won lasting friendships. He usually though not always dressed like an Indian. A fur cap, a fringed hunting shirt, and leggings and moccasins, all made of skins of wild animals, made up his ordinary costume.
[Pg 228]
Daniel Boone in his Cabin. Daniel Boone in his Cabin.
If we should go in imagination into Daniel Boone's log cabin out in the clearing not far from the fort, we should find it a simple home with rude furnishings. A ladder against the wall was the stairway by which the children reached the loft. Pegs driven into the wall held the scanty family wardrobe, and upon a rough board, supported by four wooden legs, was spread the family meal.[Pg 229]
A Hand Corn Mill. A Hand Corn Mill.
There was an abundance of plain and simple food. Bear's meat was a substitute for pork, and venison for beef. As salt was scarce, the beef was not salted down or pickled, but was jerked by drying in the sun or smoking over the fire. Corn was also an important article of diet. When away from home to hunt game or to follow the war trail, sometimes the only food which the settler had was the parched corn he carried in his pocket or wallet. Every cabin had its hand-mill for grinding the corn into meal and a mortar for beating it into hominy. The mortar was made by burning a hole into the top of a block of wood.
A pioneer boy found his life a busy and interesting one. While still young he received careful training in imitating the notes and calls of birds and wild animals. He learned how to set traps, and how to shoot a rifle with unerring aim. At twelve years of age he became a fort-soldier, with port-hole assigned to him for use in case of an Indian attack. He received careful training, also, in following an Indian trail and in concealing his own when on the warpath. For expert knowledge of this kind was necessary in the midst of dangers from unseen foes that were likely to creep stealthily upon the settlers at all times[Pg 230] whether they were working in the clearings or hunting in the forest.
After building the fort, Boone returned to his home in North Carolina for his family. Some months after the family reached Boonesborough, Boone's daughter with two girl friends was one day floating in a boat near the river-bank. Suddenly five Indians darted out of the woods and, seizing the three girls, hurried away with them. When in their flight the Indians observed the eldest of the girls breaking twigs and dropping them in their trail, they threatened to tomahawk her unless she stopped it. But watching her chance, she from time to time tore off strips of her dress, and dropped them as guides to the pursuing whites.
A Wigwam. A Wigwam.
As soon as possible after hearing of the capture Boone, with seven other men from the fort, started upon the trail of the Indians and kept up the pursuit until, early on the second morning, they discovered the Indians sitting around a fire cooking breakfast. Suddenly the whites, firing a volley, killed two of the Indians and frightened the others so badly that they beat a hasty retreat, leaving the girls uninjured.
Early in 1778, Boone and twenty nine other men were captured and carried off by a party of Indian warriors. At that time the Indians in that part of the country were fighting on the English side in the Revolution, and as they received a ransom for any Americans they might hand over to the English, they took Boone and the other men of his party to Detroit.
Although the English offered $500 for Boone's[Pg 231] ransom the Indians refused to let him go. They admired him so much that they took him to their home, and with due ceremony adopted him into their tribe. Having plucked out all his hair except a tuft on the top of his head, they dressed this with feathers and ribbons as a scalp-lock. Next they threw him into the river and gave his body a thorough scrubbing in order to wash out all the white blood. Then, daubing his face with paint in true Indian fashion, they looked upon him with huge satisfaction as one of themselves.
Boone remained with them several months, during which he made the best of the life he had to lead. But when he heard that the Indians were planning an attack upon Boonesborough, he determined to escape if possible and give his friends warning. His own words tell the story in a simple way: "On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I departed in the most secret manner, and arrived at Boonesborough on the 20th after a journey of 160 miles, during which I had but one meal." He could not get any food because he dared not use his gun, nor would he build a fire for fear of discovery by his foes. He reached the fort in safety, where he was of great service in beating off the attacking party.
But this is only one of the many hairbreadth escapes[Pg 232] of the fearless backwoodsman. Once while in a shed looking after some tobacco, four Indians with loaded guns appeared at the door. They said: "Now, Boone, we got you. You no get away any more. You no cheat us any more." In the meantime, Boone had gathered up in his arms a number of dry tobacco leaves, and with the dust of these suddenly filled the Indians' eyes and nostrils. Then while they were coughing, sneezing, and rubbing their eyes, he made good his escape.
Indian Implements Indian Implements
But from all his dangerous adventures Boone came out safely, and for years remained the leader of the settlement at Boonesborough. He was certainly a masterful leader in that early pioneer life in Kentucky. [Pg 233] The solitude of the wilderness never lost its charm for him even to the last of his long life. He died in 1820, eighty-five years old. It has been said that but for him the settlement in Kentucky could not have been made for many years.
From American Leaders and Heroes: A Preliminary Text-Book in United States History By Wilbur F. Gordy (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907, public domain)
illus237
Zombie Stevie Nicks wig. Needs a bang trim.
You have no idea how difficult it was to fit this over my hair.
Our 2 cats, Michael and fiona were both a little freaked out about this move.
They screamed and wailed bloody murder during the car ride over. You would think they were being kidnapped.
When they arrived, they ran under the bed, cowered and trembled uncontrollably. We could NOT coax them out. We tried snacks, food, reaching out to pet them. Their fur was standing on end and the huddled together. They stayed there all night.
The next morning, I managed to get them out to show them where the litterbox was. Eventually they began to explore. So hesitantly. Their noses twitching as they sniffed everything...any sound or sudden movement caused them to run behind the sofa in terror.
They're much calmer now, I think they're slowly adjusting..
Misfit was generally terrified while camping, and the tent provided him with physical and mental shelter.
Read about this camping trip at: clintjcl.wordpress.com/2007/04/29/journal-camping-first-c...
Casey.
Misfit the cat, tent.
Elizabeth Furnace, George Washington National Forest, Virginia.
April 28, 2007.
Pic by Kipp.
... Read my blog at ClintJCL.wordpress.com
... View Casey's photos at www.flickr.com/photos/CaseyLea
... View Kipp's photos at http://www.flickr.com/photos/lurking444/
... View my camping-related blog posts at clintjcl.wordpress.com/category/hobbies-activities/camping/
Dispatch From Bingham Falls - Smugglers Notch - Vermont US
I caught the movement out of the side of my eye. Stopped dead and scanned for the source and discovered something that shocked me. There off to my right was a what some consider a product of the imagination - the carnivore Vermont Chippy. It was terrifying sitting there. As if it were daring me to come closer.
I moved but only my camera hand - thankfully I had preset my camera (Nikon D750). I pushed the flash release button and slowly moved the camera to my eye - half clicked to focus and then full click to snap. The flash in the forest and the Chippy was gone.
Later I paused to look at the image taken - red glowing eyes/ extraordinarily large mouth in outsize head with what appears to be fangs. I am so glad I left it alone and went on my way down the mountainside to photograph the Bingham Falls.
++ ++ ++ ++ ++
image by Photo George
copyrighted: ©2016 GCheatle
all rights reserved
locator: GAC_3573_GAC 01
iPhone 11 Pro & HDR shots of Wapping Road First School & Swimming Pool & next door (on the same site) Wapping Road Boarding School, Wapping Road, Bradford.
Wapping First School was the country's first school with a swimming pool & the pool is (argued to be) the first swimming pool to be built in the country (if this is not the case, it’s certainly one of the first 5). Wapping Road School opened in 1877. The historic pool, which can still be seen fully intact today, although in the basement of an extremely derelict site, measures 14 metres x 5 metres, shallow end 2ft 6 & deep end 3ft 6- so not very long & incredibly shallow, (as can be seen in my photos) & was used by children from schools across the Bradford district who were bussed into Wapping to learn to swim. Wapping School aimed to cater for the educational needs of a close-knit but poor neighbourhood and went on to receive commendation from HM Inspector of Schools.
The school created national & international headlines with the help of education campaigner Margaret McMillan & her partner (LGBTQ+ friendly here!) & her push to improve the life of children in the education & state system. (I believe she was also the person who helped to begin free school meals, as well as kickstart the kind of scholarships that are available for students from families with smaller incomes, to enable them to attend a grammar/ boarding/ elitist school/ college/ university, without having to pay their massive fees).
The Grade II listed building closed as a school in August 2000 & was badly hit by vandalism including a series of fires, with the roof being damaged & most of the interior features destroyed over the years. Many floors are completely destroyed, the roof is non- existent over most of the building & much of the building is now a shell, where there were once multiple floors (basement/ pool, teaching areas & (depending on which building) dorms (for boarding) or storage areas, all the floors are fully exposed, ie, stand at the exterior looking in, you can look down through the ground level to the basement & look up to the sky with nothing but interior walls (some places not even that) between. Much of the main timber support beams have fallen & the interior brickwork warped at terrible (& dangerous angles), existing floors are either support beam only, concrete or just have a few warped floorboards only. It seems only the external stone still exists in much of the building, but to my (non expert) opinion, this is now heavily at risk. Sadly there has been much drug use in the area & especially the area around the exterior & interior of the pool are littered by used needles. (Being disabled I am always very careful, as well as dressing bright clothing, park directly outside & go in there in daylight & never alone, like to prove I am not adding to any antisocial activity in the property, nor do I want to come across any antisocial behaviour myself, especially not at night) I felt unsafe to enter most of this building. Now although I could’ve gone into to the swimming pool area, which being in the basement seemed intact floor wise (concrete & the tiles remained, for what I could see) unfortunately there were so many needles I don’t want to risk it, with it being so dark. There is also the upper floor caving into the pool badly & 1 massive wooden support beam that’s already fallen into the pool area- I don’t want to be in a building collapse! It looks like it would’ve been a terrifying place to learn to swim, with it being in the basement, so dark, narrow, shallow, no doubt freezing in winter & no doubt very echoey, as well as possibly being able to hear the active school day going on above your head! I just hope it was well lit!.
In 2004 plans to convert the building into apartments were approved, but work never began, being Grade II listed but then so badly damaged, most want to demolish & rebuild on the site. I’m led to believe it’s now owned by the neighbouring Life Centre (formerly known as the Abundant Life Church) who would love to make it into teaching areas & accommodation for their ever- growing college education centre, for pastoral studies.
The school building is a big part of Bradford’s Victorian heritage, it was also one of the earliest Board Schools after the 1870 Act. So I do hope they at least managed to save the exterior & the pool areas, there aren’t many pools now that are in basements (or with anything built overhead), but this could work for apartment or a halls of residence type building & the basement location & it’s small size would be more relative to a pool for this purpose & not get overcrowded. I drive by this location twice daily, 6 days per week, (taking Andy to work & bringing him home) so any changes & I can keep you all updated!
It always surprises me how terrifying normally placid cows can be when they see walkers with a dog on a lead. They can be just as intimidating and aggressive as bulls. Having been chased downhill by a snorting herd of cows several years ago, only managing to leap over a fence in the nick of time, I always treat any cattle in fields with great caution and - sometimes - fear.
The sign was encountered on a lovely field path between Draughton and Bolton Bridge on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales.
Update:
This story appeared on the BBC News website on 14th May www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-wiltshire-22518414
What is a woman to feel when her children's lives could end at any moment during those terrifying bombing raids?
Part of a "Triple Whammy" experience I did today at the Abyss at Rotherham.
A 250 ft zip wire , a 150 ft free abseil followed by a scary but fantastic 150 ft power fan descender.
This was the step off the 150 ft high platform for the Power Fan Descender. Brilliant experience, but wow do I look terrified!
Amos SEWELL • American
* 7 June 1901 in Oakland, California.
✝︎ 30 October 1983 in Norwalk Hospital, CT.
Backyard Campers.
Gouache on Board
28.25" x 21.75
Signed Lower Left.
📍Private collection - March 1, 2012 auction.
Photo credit: Heritage Auction ⓒ
The Saturday Evening Post cover design, 5 September 1953 issue.
The Saturday Evening Post note ↓
One of childhood’s most delightful experiences is to sleep outdoors at night where it is uncomfortable and terrifying.
If a lad is torn from sleep by the whispering of a ghost, the scream of a madwoman or the exploding of a bomb—(a whispering pine, a screech owl or the cat tips over the garbage can), all his life the memory of the horror will somehow be hauntingly pleasant, and he will muse, “Ah, to be a child again!” Most adults get scared pie-eyed in their own beds by strange noises in the house; so why yearn for childhood?
The lads in Sewell’s painting have one greater thrill ahead, the night they use sleeping bags out under the bare, mysterious stars. That will be the night of the big electric storm and cloudburst.
About Sewell ↓
A born Californian from San Francisco, Amos Sewell enjoyed the sun and all the activities warm weather had to offer. In his youth, Sewell was a ranked amateur tennis player (15th in Singles and 9th in Doubles). He was a banker during the day who took art classes for fun. After repeated losses to his champion tennis rival, Donald Budge, he decided to quit the sport. A tennis star throughout the 1920s, Sewell had moved into the world of professional illustration by The Great Depression era of the 1930s.
He began his art education taking eight years worth of night classes at The California School of Fine Arts while working as a banker at Wells Fargo. Sewell worked at the bank from 1916-1930. He always enjoyed art, and often took vacation time to drive up the California coast to paint. It was on one of these trips that Sewell decided to make a career out of his art by moving to New York City.
In 1930, Sewell made the move. To pay his way, he worked a lumber-boat from California to New York down the coast and through the Panama Canal.
Once in New York City, Sewell took more classes at The Art Students League and the Grand Central School of Art. In art school, Amos studied under famed instructors Guy Pene Du Bois and Harvey Dunn. Each of whom became the artist’s entre into the New York City art scene. He also studied privately with Julian Levi at his studio in Easthampton, Long Island after having completed his formal schooling.
In 1932, he married his sweetheart, Ruth Allen. The two never had any children. Though a talented artist, Sewell complained that work was hard to find in the worst years of the Great Depression, specifically 1933 and 1934. He spent his days practicing illustration when there was no work to be done. Soon that period ended, however, and the experience of practice had prepared him to shine as a masterful illustrator.
One of the few financially stable working artists of the early to mid-twentieth century, Sewell kept up his passion for tennis as a hobby. His last documented tournament victory was the 1934 Cup for Westchester County, New York.
Quickly, Sewell began receiving regular work from advertising agencies and magazines around the city. All the incoming work provided a better quality of life. Eventually, he and his wife chose to move from the East Village of Manhattan to the artist’s colony in Westport, Connecticut. During World War II, he won an art award for creating the nation’s best war bond illustrations.
Amos Sewell’s successful career led him to produce covers and illustrations for The Saturday Evening Post, Woman’s Day, Good Housekeeping, Redbook, True, Today’s Woman, Coronet, Liberty, and Country Gentleman. He illustrated for Street & Smith detective “pulp” stories, and a novel, MacKinley Kantor’s “Valedictory.” He was privately contracted to illustrate for large national advertising accounts, but admitted that he had to give those up to focus on his added workload from The Post.
Though Sewell had no children of his own, the artist idealized childhood. He often chose to depict its innocence with empathic images of children playing or unknowingly making mistakes.
Amos and Ruth lived out a quiet life in Westport, Connecticut until Amos’s death in October of 1983 at the age of 82. Today, Sewell is remembered as one of The Saturday Evening Post’s best artist-illustrators.
of everything i am feeling
.
and oh, does god have a sound
like a child laughing loud
or a garden gate opening to
a world you never found
but not everything's a metaphor
you know some things just are
this song is so moving
A nurse in a Bengali refugee camp near Calcutta tries to administer a vaccination to a Bengali child. At the beginning of the monsoon season, cholera was rife in the refugee camps. Nurses from the War on Want organisation started a vaccination campaign in the camps. John Downing made this pictures after spending hours in the muddy camp. The child, terrified by the equipment the nurse is using, made a desperate attempt to escape, while the nurse tried to explain to him that she would not hurt him.
______________________________________
ব্যবহারের নিয়মাবলীঃ
*** ছবিগুলো শেয়ার করার সময় 'ছবি সংগ্রহ কৃতজ্ঞতাঃ মুক্তিযুদ্ধ ই-আর্কাইভ ট্রাস্ট' লিখুন।
*** ছবিগুলোতে কোন ধরণের এডিটিং ব্যবহার করা যাবে না।
*** কোন ধরণের বাণিজ্যিক উদ্দেশ্যে ছবিগুলো ব্যবহার করা যাবে না।
*** প্রাতিষ্ঠানিক ব্যবহারের জন্য সংশ্লিষ্ট ফটোগ্রাফার ও কপিরাইট হোল্ডারের সাথে যোগাযোগ করতে হবে।
This amused me, one lady enjoying the ride, another is terrified & the gentleman is oblivious to it all and on his @phone!!
The Terrifying Timber Wolves. These wild characters were based on a submission from Marcus, a second-grader at Pulaski Fine Arts Academy. Marcus' poem was performed in American Sign Language and Voice. He also submitted his artwork to the show.
In real life, kitty yawns are quick and cute and harmless. But when you capture them in a picture, they look a lot more menacing. This turned out a little blurry, but I rarely catch my cat yawning in a picture so I had to post it.
©2010 Susan Ogden-All Rights Reserved Images Thruthelookingglass
Hard to say which was more in awe....the little girl or the butterfly! I only know that if this were my daughter she would have been HYSTERICAL.....screaming and swatting as if her life depended on it...........she is utterly terrified of butterflies and moths. (this is a girl who would be in heaven if she could hold a snake, mind you, and once found a tiny green snake without a head (lawnmower accident?), which she thought was so beautiful she took it "swimming" with her in the pool...and then when i told her to get rid of it, she chased me around the yard with it.....i have a deep-seated fear of snakes!) Once when she went into the barn to take care her horse, i heard screams that i was certain could be heard in East Jabib....i thought she was being attacked, or that something was wrong with her horse.....i dashed inside to find her paralyzed with fear because there was a big moth on the stall door! When we took our daughters to England, our friends that live there took us to tour a historic castle....on the grounds was a butterfly sanctuary.....she steadfastly REFUSED to enter it....and since we could not leave her alone wandering the castle grounds, we did not go in :( When i received 2 butterfly bushes as gifts from my students, and planted them, she told me she could not come over anymore!! She told me butterflies have teeth and are poisonous!!! (she also thought there were "Bay Whales" in Manahawkin Bay.....therefore she would not go tubing there!!) NOW do you all see why i am crazy!!!
The little girl is slightly bokehed, so i am posting this as my HBW...................deal with it!!!! ;)
I had to take my kitty into the vet yesterday due to post-spaying complications. She had a lump on her belly. But apparently it's not a big deal and she's going to be fine. However, it was a tense time in that waiting room before being seen by a vet, both for Piggy and me. Whereas I was just generally worried about my kitty's health, Piggy was worried about the patients on the other side of the waiting room.