John was afraid to ask his Father, but he really wanted to know how much longer it would be before they got there. That is, to Pittsburgh. They had been walking for six weeks now with their pack horses, their animals, and the other families. John's younger sister, Margaret, and younger brother, Henry, were too young to walk much, so they sat in a hickory basket tied onto one of the pack horses. There were chickens in a crate tied onto another pack horse. John's mother, Sarah, walked beside the lead pack horse. John's job was to lead the cows along. He had enjoyed the adventure at first, seeing land he had never looked at before. But he soon learned that it was easier coming down the mountains than climbing up them. The forest was so thick with trees that the path they were on could just allow the horses and animals to walk along in single file. They couldn't have used a wagon to carry everything that they wanted to bring to start a new home. John saw his Father excitingly motioning at the top of the hill. They hurried up as fast as they could to meet him. Then they saw what had made his Father so enthusiastic. There, before them, they looked down on the little village of Pittsburgh. Fort Pitt was bigger than they had even imagined. Outside of the Fort there were log houses, about five of them were stores. John and his family would join the camp of people on the side of the Monongahela. They would wait there for their flatboat to be built and for the water in the rivers to rise high enough from the spring thaw. Then they would load their animals, belongings, and themselves onto the boat and float down the Ohio River into the West.