One night I recall that we camped near an abandoned log cabin, and my mother decided to build a fire in that for cooking, and afterward to make a "pallet" on the floor for our sleeping.

Just as the fire had gotten well started a large black snake fully a yard and a half long dropped down the chimney and ran out on the floor.

Of course we at once abandoned that cabin.

Finally we reached our destination--a little town called Malden, which is about five miles from Charleston, the present capital of the state.
At that time salt-mining was the great industry in that part of West Virginia, and the little town of Malden was right in the midst of the salt-furnaces.

My stepfather had already secured a job at a salt-furnace, and he had also secured a little cabin for us to live in.