DMA NOTE: We are indebted to Judy Tooman who transcribed this for the Hamilton County, Ohio, web site (http://www.rootsweb.com/~ohhamilt/mnpg.html) and to Linda Boorom for arranging permission for us to include it here.

This is probably Roelof “Ralph” Auten, the son of Pouel “Paul” and Maria Van Duyne Auten. The presence of his brother Thomas and wife Amy Prior in Hamilton Co., Ohio, is documented.

Excerpted from History of Hamilton County Ohio, compiled by Henry A. Ford, A.M. and Mrs. Kate B. Ford; pub. By L.A. Williams & Co., 1881.

~pg 267~

The MCFARLAND settlement was made in sections twenty-four and thirty, near the northwest corner of the township, in the spring of 1705, by Colonel John MCFARLAND, an emigrant from Fayette county, Pennsylvania. He took here a tract of nearly one thousand acres, comprising the whole of the first-designated section and the east half of the second, upon which the village of Pleasant Ridge now stands in part. Near this site MCFARLAND made his first clearing and put up his cabin, which he seems to have fortified somewhat, as it is sometimes remarked as being the last station established in Hamilton county. Life there was comparatively uneventful until some twelve years after the beginnings, when an incident

~pg 268~
occurred which is well told in the language of John G. OLDEN, in his Historical Sketches and Early Reminiscences:

In the year 1807, on what is now known as Norwood Heights, in the immediate neighborhood of Pleasant Ridge, and almost four miles south of the present village of Reading, then known as Voorheestown, there lived a man named Daniel WOLVERTON, with a family consisting of a wife and three children - Jemima, about six years of age; John, nearly four; and an infant but a few months old. They lived in an humble cabin on the spot of ground now occupied by the stately residence of Mr. John W. SIEBERN, a well-known merchant of Cincinnati.

It was the afternoon of a pleasant autumn day that the two children, Jemima and John, by permission of their mother, went out into the woods to gather nuts. This was by no means an unusual occurrence; the children were accustomed to the woods, which at that day surrounded every cabin in the neighborhood - in fact, the whole country was one continued forest, except here and there a spot laid bare by the woodman's axe. The mother took little heed of her children until near the close of the day, when, as twilight set in and they did not return, she grew anxious, and, going into the woods, called loudly for them, but, receiving no answer, her mind became filled with forebodings of evil. Darkness now came, and the husband, who had been absent during the afternoon, having returned, both parents made diligent search through the adjacent woods. Again they called the names of their little ones, until their voices reached the neighboring cabins and alarmed the whole settlement; still no answer came, save the echo of their own voices. Soon the neighbors came and joined the parents, and the entire night was spent in a fruitless search. The woods throughout the settlement resounded with the voices of men and the firing of guns, but all to no purpose; morning came, but no tidings of the lost ones.

The entire neighborhood was now alarmed, and a large assembly of people met at the cabin of the distressed parents and determined to continue the search. That the canvass might be more thorough and cover a greater territory, they arranged that each person should go alone, or at most in couples. It was agreed also that each party should carry, what was then a common article in every cabin in the country, a 'dinner-horn,' which, it was agreed, should not be used until the children were found, and then the successful party should sound a blast that would be responded to by others, and thus the news be conveyed to all exploring parties, and reach as a joyous signal the almost distracted mother. This also served the purpose of keeping all parties upon the search, as all would know that so long as the horns were silent the object of their pursuit had not been found.

Though small bands of Indians passed through the country occasionally, but little fears were entertained that the children had met with violence at their hands, for they were quite friendly. There was the greater danger from starvation, or death from fright or grief, or from the sting of the deadly serpent. The woods, too, abounded with wild animals. The wolf and the bear were regarded as dangerous; and panthers, though not numerous, had been seen in sufficient numbers to make them a terror to all mothers. With the knowledge that the children had been exposed to all these grave dangers for the entire night, little hope was left of finding them alive. Still, it was thought that whatever their fate, it was better to have it known and put all doubts at rest. Even should they have been devoured by wild animals, it was confidently hoped that at least a portion of their remains would be found within a circuit of a few miles.

With these preparations and these thoughts in their minds, the neighbors went forth again into the forest, some afoot and others on horseback, each party taking different directions; and it would now seem that a few hours would crown their efforts with success. But the day wore away, and evening came; some of the hunters returned, bringing, however, no word of cheer to the grief-stricken parents. The footprints of the children had been seen and followed for some distance down a small ravine leading from the settlement into the Mill Creek valley; but soon the tracks turned upon the high ground, after which all traces of them were lost, and, what appeared stranger still, the children had not been seen by any one, although quite a number of cabins must have been near the range of their travels.

One of the neighbors, named Ralph AUTEN, had proposed in the outset to put his dog, a fine, noble-looking bloodhound and said to have been a very sagacious animals on the track of the children, but this was objected to upon the supposition that should the dog find the children, be might attack, or at least frighten them seriously, so the project was abandoned. Notwithstanding the protest of his neighbors, however, Mr. AUTEN, on resuming the search in the evening, took with him his dog.

A second night was spent in the forest, guns were again discharged and fires were kindled, but still the horns hung silent by the side of the hunters, and a pall of grief over the cabin of Daniel WOLVERTON.

On the approach of morning AUTEN and his comrade found themselves on the hills east of Reading, near the present site of Mount Notre Dame. The dog had been absent for some time, but now returned and manifested a strange and unusual anxiety. He turned upon his master a sagacious look, and uttering a few whimpering barks, ran again into the forest, but soon returned to repeat his former expressions. The men followed, and had gone but a few hundred yards when they observed the dog leap upon the trunk of a fallen tree, and there sit uttering his plaintive whimperings. On reaching the tree there the men discovered the children lying huddled together, their legs partly covered with leaves.

The signal blast was promptly given, which was taken up and responded to by others, and soon the monotone notes of the dinner horn sounded and reverberated through the forest, along the hills and in the valley, until the glad tidings reached the home of the distressed parents, bringing to their hearts for a moment a thrill of joy. These moments of gladness were brief, however, as a second thought saddened their hopes with alternate fears. The children had been found, there was little doubt - but, oh! the momentous question, whether alive or dead, none could answer.

The suspense that followed for an hour or more was intense and painful, not only to the father and mother of the little ones, but also to the multitude that had assembled to await the return of the successful party, and partake of the joy or sympathize in the grief of the parents. Finally AUTEN and his party returned and restored to the arms of the mother her babes, alive and, though suffering somewhat from fatigue and the effects of hunger, comparatively well.

When found the children were in a state of partial stupor, though they did not seem to have suffered greatly from hunger. The men gave them water and they were somewhat revived, but they still appeared timid and nervous, and it was some time before AUTEN and his comrade could gain their confidence; but on arriving home and receiving the proper care and nourishment they soon fully recovered.

The little girl could give but an imperfect account of their adventure. The first night she said they walked until they became very tired, sill the time expecting to reach home; at last the little boy stopped and could go no further. They sat down under a tree and both cried until they fell asleep. When they awoke it was daylight, and they set out again for home. They ate some acorns and nuts and drank at a little stream. They again became tired and sat down by the fallen tree where they were found. The little boy complained of being cold and she gathered leaves and put around him. At one time she heard people calling and saw them pass, but was too weak to answer. After this she remembered nothing more.