The Heritage of Daniel Haston


The Caney Fork of the Cumberland
Postscript - Page 85
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All my notes have been "brought together" so this must be the end of the story.  I hope you have enjoyed our travels of more than 250 miles and 250 years from the top of the Cumberland Plateau down the Caney Fork to where it joins the Cumberland with numerous side trips up the tributaries.  In your mind's eye you have seen the early pioneers crossing the river at old fords or on small ferry boats.  You have heard the sound of musket fire at the Battle of Rock Island.

You have seen the settlers grinding corn at the neighborhood mill, or riding a log raft down the river on a good tide, or perhaps hunting the unattractive mussel with the hope of finding a fine "rose bud" pearl.  Yes, you have even seen boys out at dawn on a fish trap picking up a mess of fish for the family breakfast or some of their grandchildren, loyal Confederates, eating Yankee biscuit.

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