We spent our time very agreeably for about two hours. My friend was so much fascinated with this western beauty that I began to conclude his common stock of gallantry had much improved since his arrival in this fertile country. Indeed, they appeared mutually pleased and the fleeting hours seemed almost too short for the full enjoyment of each other's conversation. Myself and fellow-travelers enjoyed their mirth and jokes. Little did my friend dream a frightful cloud was hovering over him which threatened to darken all his bright prospects. We were suddenly startled by the shrill Indian warwhoop, which proceeded from a thicket near the house. It may not be amiss to mention here this warwhoop was what my friend had never heard before. It appeared to pass over his frame like an electrical shock, and from his being an elegant man, six feet high, and in a lover's attitude, he was reduced to about three feet in height, with knees as high as his chin and the points of his shoulders higher than his head. In this situation he prespired very freely. We were not kept long in a state of suspense. Rutherford and three sturdy fellows, armed, entered the house, all half-drunk. They took no notice of us, but eyed our baggage, which was heaped on the floor. They drank freely of whisky, and appeared in fine spirits. As one of our companions was passing a small log house, in which food was kept, he heard men whispering, which he informed me of. I immediately got a candle. Searched the house, but did not see any person. However, as I was returning, I found two tall men hid in the chimney, who, on being spoken to, went into the house, making six all together, and most of them very tall. They were armed with rifles and butcher knives, without coats or hats, their sleeves rolled up, their beards long and their faces smutted, such as the bravos are represented in the play of "The Foundling of the Forest." We had been anxious to see some of these banditti, but we did not contemplate seeing so large a company or having so full a visit from the fraternity. Rutherford disguised himself and denied that he was landlord, or that he lived at the place. It was not long before we were informed of the business of those devil-like looking visitors. Some of their private consultations were overheard. Robbery and murder was contemplated. They would frequently whisper and pinch each other, wink, eye us, then hunch each other and give a number of private signals which we did not understand. One observed "the trap door was too open," "that the boards were too wide apart," in a loud tone of voice. The reply was: "By G——, it should be screwed up tight enough before morning!" They often mentioned the names of the cut-throats we had on our list as their particular friends and associates. They also spoke of the two men who had been murdered the day before, and acknowledged that they ate their last meal in the house we were in. Laughed at the manner in which the throats of one of these unfortunate men was cut, and many other circumstances which would swell this memorandum too much. Convinced us beyond a doubt they were of the banditti that had been described to us. Our own safety now became a matter of serious consideration, and our party of four held a consultation after the robbers' consultation was over (which was held in the dark a little way from the house). The two strangers that we overtook on the road were firm-spirited, and declared we would die side by side or conquer if attacked. I am almost ashamed to add that a man whom I have named as friend in my memorandum, whom I have known for years, and with whom I had traveled 1,000 miles, expressed himself to the following effect: "By G——, instead of joining us he would take care of himself!" and insinuated that he would join the strongest side, and immediately went into the house and placed himself among the ruffians.

IV.—Escape From the Robber Band

Monday, Nov. 8, 1819.—The disappointment experienced from the unmanly conduct of Dr. Hill had a happy effect on our little company. It bound us more firmly and nearer together, and, I may add with truth, almost fitted us for the field of battle. The hour of 9 o'clock had now arrived, the night uncommonly dark and cloudy. On our going into the house one of the strangers went into the yard and gave the Indian warwhoop three times very loud. About 10 o'clock they took their six rifles, went into the yard with a candle and shot them off one by one, snuffing the candle at forty yards every shot. They then loaded afresh, primed and picked their flints. A large horn was then taken from the loft and blown distinctly three times very loud. All those signals (which we had been told of) brought no more of the company. They then dispatched two of their own party, who were gone until 12 o'clock. They stated to their comrades "they could not be had." It may be readily imagined, after what we had overhead, seeing such preparations and observing many of their private signals, being warned of our danger previous to stopping at the house, together with the recent and cruel murders which had been committed, in a strange country, where every man made and executed his own law to suit himself—I say it cannot be a matter of wonder that our situation began to put on a character of the most unpleasant kind. However, we were well armed, having pistols, dirks, knives and a gun, and were determined, if necessity should require, to be murdered in the house, and not to be dragged into the woods, there to have our throats cut. It being a little after 12 o'clock the bravos proposed to take a drink and lie down on the floor to rest, which they did, and upon their arms. The house being very small they almost covered the floor of one room. The small back room was intended for us. There was no door to the partition, and the logs were about six inches apart. We were under some apprehension that in case of an attack they would be able to fire on us through the logs. After they were all still, myself and companions lay down in reach of each other, our clothes on, our dirks unsheathed, the guards off our pistols and three extra bullets in our gun, and agreed if a signal was given to fight the good fight. I had like to have forgotten Dr. Hill. He had placed himself on the far side of the bed upon which I lay and had got out of the wall a small log, but not of sufficient size in case of accident to allow him to make his escape. Although the evening was cool the drops of sweat stood upon his forehead as large as peas. He complained of great pain about the kidneys and that his head hung loose upon his shoulders. Knowing those fellows were expert at cutting throats, from their conversation on that subject, I determined to put them to as much trouble as possible. Took off my cravat and twisted my silk handkerchief and tied it round my neck. In this situation we spent the night. We lay on our arms ready for the word. But little sleep. When they would move we did the same. If they coughed we followed the example. In this dreadful way the night was spent. I have no hesitation of declaring that if we had not been well armed or kept a strict watch we should have been robbed and murdered, and nothing but the fear of our killing a part of them kept their hands off. Could they have added to their numbers by their signals, our fate would have been certain. It is probable the balance of their party was engaged in some other enterprise. About the break of day the signal of rising was given by our visitors. We were on our feet in a minute, and our hands upon our arms. Three of them examined their rifles, and, after having some conversation with their comrades, proceeded up the road we had to travel. I presumed to place themselves behind trees and fire upon us without the risk of being killed. We lost no time in placing our baggage in our carriage and getting ready to leave this robbers' den. After paying our bill and being ready for a start, one of the brotherhood begged I would take my saddlebags into the house again; that he wanted a dose of medicine for one who was very sick. This I declined doing, suspecting his object, and advised him to call on some person with whom he was better acquainted. We then bid adieu to Mr. Rutherford, his family, the banditti and the edge of the twelve-mile prairie. We had not traveled more than half a mile when we fell in with four travelers going to St. Louis, which increased our number to eight persons, and placed us out of danger. In making a memorandum of this unpleasant transaction, many important circumstances and some facts have been omitted. To have given a full detail would have taken more time than is in my power to devote at this time.

Tuesday, Nov. 9.—Traveled forty-two miles from Rutherford's to McCart's, a tolerably respectable house, which is a rare thing in this part of the country. Large prairies, one twenty-two miles wide. Rich land, but of little value, the proportion of timber being too small, water being scare and its situation remote. Crossed the Okaw or Kaskaskia river and two branches of Silver creek on the 10th and 11th days of the month; distance, fifty-four miles. Arrived at the town of Illinois, on the Mississippi, a little village opposite St. Louis. We crossed part of the American bottom, which has the appearance of once having been the bed of some lake or river. It abounds in marine substances. It is bounded by high and rocky cliffs from 100 to 300 feet in height. The marks washed in these cliffs centuries ago at high and low water mark are plain to be seen. The American bottom is about 120 miles long and from two to seven miles in breadth; contains some creeks and lakes; is perfectly level, without a stump or root. Soil, ten feet deep, black as ink, very light, and I think I may add without the fear of contradiction that it is the richest land in the world. The town of Illinois is on part of the American bottom, which is low, flat and unhealthy. Bilious fevers in all their various shapes are to found in almost every family for forty miles around. More pale and deathly-looking faces seen in the last two days than I have even seen in Philadelphia in two months. Crossed over the bold river Illinois to St. Louis and bid adieu for the present to Illinois. So far much disappointed in the inhabitants, but not in the land. Illinois is the hiding place for villains from every part of the United States, and, indeed, from every quarter of the globe. A majority of the settlers have been discharged from penitentiaries and gaols or have been the victims of misfortune or imprudence. Many of those will reform, but many, very many, are made fit for robbery and murder. High as our country stands above others for its perfection, yet it has curses which at times threaten to sink it on a level with the most disgraced. Slavery and penitentiaries have done more mischief than war or disease. I hope to see the day when there will be universal emancipation, when the penitentiaries of the United States will be changed from schools of vice to schools of virtue. Then will the United States be the admiration of all the nations of the world, and he that is born within their bounds will be proud of the land that gave him birth.

Friday, Nov. 12.—Remained this day in St. Louis. The town is not very handsome or large. The streets are narrow and irregular, and the houses, with a few exceptions, meanly built. It appears the attention of the inhabitants has been turned solely toward making money. Taste and art as yet have been much neglected. Visited the Roman chapel. Although unfinished it is a spacious, handsome building. The new bank is of modern shape, in appearance, a very neat little building. Visited the Indian museum or grand council or war chamber, which contains many specimens of curious workmanship, and a number of curiosities presented to the government by the chiefs of different nations. Visited the theater. This is only a temporary building. It is placed in the middle of a duck puddle, is finished in the coarsest manner and of the meanest materials. The decorations inside are few. The gallery will contain about ten persons and the house 200. No danger of fire. The water rises in the pit and in case of emergency a tolerably brisk fellow might run head foremost through any part of it. In ridiculously ugly and slight appearance it surpasses all ever seen or heard of. It is not half so large or half so good as the common horse-stables in Philadelphia.

Saturday, Nov. 13.—Left St. Louis at 6 o'clock a. m. Crossed the Mississippi to Illinois on my way to Kaskaskia. Passed a small village called Cahokia, a miserable, dirty little hole. But very few good houses. Inhabitants half French, half Indian, retaining part of the manners of both. The French language is generally spoken, but not in its purity. For eight or ten miles we traveled on the American bottom, which, in all probabilities, never was surpassed in fertility. After leaving the bottom the country is rather hilly and barren. Traveled twenty-two miles and lodged at Waterloo, a town without houses. Only two families in the place. Every land speculator produces one or more of these dirt-cabin villages. Indeed, two-thirds of the travelers met with are land speculators. The inhabitants of this part of the country appear to be a wretched set of beings. Their great-coats are made out of a blanket, with a cap or hood out of the same piece. Then moccasins and leggins complete the suit. Uncover a Frenchman's head and his friends are immediately alarmed for his health. The pig pens in Pennsylvania are generally as clean and much better built than the miserable huts occupied by these lazy people. In a state of almost starvation they hold their Gumbo balls twice a week. For nimbleness of foot and lightness of heart the French have never been surpassed.

Excellent wages in this country for hired people, either black or white, men or women. It is very common for a log cabin tavern without a door or window (perhaps a log out to answer both purposes) to sup and lodge twenty persons, men women and children. A living is so easily obtained in this rich country that the most industrious of the inhabitants soon grow indolent. Perhaps the ague and fever unfits them for exertion or labor, but those things or something not accounted for produces laziness.

Sunday, Nov. 14.—Left Waterloo and traveled twenty miles to breakfast at Mrs. LaCount's in the little ancient French village called Prairie De Rouche or Rocky Meadows. In traveling this distance I saw only three houses. Just before I arrived at the village Prairie De Rouche we descended a hill half a mile in height and entered again on the American bottom. The lands are hilly, barren and full of limestone. Game of all descriptions in great abundance. Mme. LaCount entertained us politely. She is considered the queen of this little village, which is the sum and substance of everything that is poor and miserable. Mme. LaCount's daughter being ill, I was deprived of a great deal of valuable information. She speaks good English, and is a very sensible, intelligent young lady for such a village. The houses here have the most antique and mean appearance, built of the barks of trees and puncheons, slabs, etc., often without doors. Their windows are without sashes, but small pieces of broken glasses of all shapes pasted ingeniously together with paper serve to admit the light upon a motley family, between white, red and black. Many of those wretched hovels are ready to tumble down on the heads of starving Indians, French and negroes, all mixed together. Negro-French is the common language of this town. Indeed, unless you can speak some French it is with much difficulty you can find any person who can understand you. Left Mme. LaCount's, traveled twelve miles over an extremely fertile country and arrived at Kaskaskia a little before sunset.

Monday, Nov. 15.—Remained in this inconsiderable village this day. Much disappointed in the appearance of the long-talked-of Kaskaskia. It is situated on the Okaw or Kaskaskia river, three miles from the Mississippi. It never can be a place of much business. The land office is kept at this place. There are some neat buildings, but they are generally old, ugly and inconvenient. Their streets are irregular and of bad widths. The inhabitants are all generals, colonels, majors, land speculators or adventurers, with now and then a robber and a cutthroat. I have to keep my long knife sharp and my eyes open. Went to church at night. A fellow tried to pick my pocket. Had my hand upon my long knife.

Tuesday, Nov. 16.—Dr. Hill having business at the lead mine, I consented to wait until his return. Wanting amusement, I engaged in hunting. Among other game I wounded a parrot, an uncommonly handsome bird, with rich plumage. It appeared to possess all the sagacity of the tame parrot. When it was first wounded it made every effort to defend itself, but after remaining a captive for a short time it appeared pleased with every kind attention, as do the domesticated parrots of the West Indies. In hunting, passed over a field that contains 5,000 acres of land, principally under cultivation. This field is part of the American bottom and is the common property of all the French of Kaskaskia. This land produces from sixty to 120 bushels of corn to the acre. More fertile land I never beheld. The inhabitants are subject to intermittent fevers. At this time there are thousands of acres of this excellent land for sale at from $4 to $8 an acre, and a good proportion woodland. Dr. Hill not having returned on the 17th, I took a ride, the day being pleasant in consequence of a refreshing shower. Visited the governor's house, a miserable-looking old building, such as is found in the suburbs of towns. Crossed the great Okaw or Kaskaskia river. The water not knee-deep and about 100 yards wide. Visited the lieutenant-governor's house, which is situated across this stream, opposite and in sight of Kaskaskia. This is the best-looking house in the place. It is painted white, but stands alone, without garden, yard or ornament of any kind. A worm fence is run around the house to keep the pigs out of the first story. Col. Menard, the lieutenant-governor, is a coarse-looking Frenchman, with all the habits, manners and dress of the common ... of Philadelphia. Visited the Indian king of the Kaskia Indians and his people, who reside about three miles from the village. This nation is now reduced to about thirty in number. Many years ago all the different tribes of Indians combined, fell upon the Kaskians when they were unprepared for battle, and cut to pieces all their warriors, except about fifteen, and most of their women and children. The king of this little nation is a fine, majestic-looking man, six feet high. He spoke French. Was polite and more gentlemanly in his deportment than some of those great men of the place. He was very much indisposed. I had the honor of prescribing for him. The names, manners and customs of these people are such as are common among Indians, with this exception, that they are rather more comfortable as to living, etc. I was very much struck with the appearance of one of the young men. He is tall, straight, elegant and unassuming in his manners, has fine, regular features, and possesses as mild and intelligent a countenance as is to be found in more civilized life. His eyes are dark, expressive and beaming with goodness, instead of ferocity.

Thursday, Nov. 18.—Dr. Hill not having returned, time passed heavily on. Hunted occasionally and visited the king again. I found his state of health much improved. He was very polite. Conversed sensibly and invited me to hunt with him. I took the rounds amongst his people. Found them generally in bark huts, sitting flat on the floor, making moccasins, etc. As none but the chief could speak English, I was deprived of the pleasure of conversation. In one of these bark huts without a door (and placed at a considerable distance from the other lodges) sat a female who was recently confined. This female had retired to this cold and open hut during her indisposition. She was alone from choice, and held down her head at my approach and showed signs of disapprobation. How commendable the modesty, even in a savage! She was placed in the middle of the floor near a handful of coals, seated on a buffalo robe and thinly dressed. The day was cold and she was without any appearance of what we call comfort. A small mug of herb tea was her drink, and there was no food to be seen. This female had twin children, which is a remarkable occurrence amongst savages. These little strangers were bandaged tight from head to foot and lashed upon a board with one end sharpened for the convenience of the mother. Whenever she grows weary one end of the board is stuck into the ground and the children often are left for a considerable time. The appearance is singular, and would astonish those that had never seen the Indians' manner of treating their children. Indian children are white when born, their eyes very black. Their hair long, straight and black. Their features full and well-shaped with large, Roman noses. They look healthy and appear to live on one-half the nourishment which would be necessary for other children. During this visit I had an opportunity of seeing the king's daughter. She has adopted the civil dress and is polite and affable for a savage. She speaks but little English but speaks French fluently. Her father and self profess the Roman Catholic religion. This Indian is more comely than the rest of the females, but I have never been able to trace any lines of beauty about those children of the forest. This Indian king owns 2,000 acres of the American bottom. Part he rents out to advantage, and part he cultivates. He lives well and might live elegantly. I omitted to mention that Kaskaskia is the seat of government, which gave me an opportunity of seeing all the heads of departments, governor, lieutenant-governor, secretary of state, sheriffs, magistrates, etc. They are well suited to a new country and an infant state.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 19-21.—Spent those days in Kaskia and its neighborhood in hunting, and rambling through this garden of a country, every day affording new amusement and presenting very interesting subjects for the mind to dwell upon. On this day, the 21st, Dr. Hill returned from the lead mine, a distance of forty-seven miles. He traveled over a poor and barren country and was not much pleased with his journey. He saw twenty deer in one herd, and was informed there were some buffalo, wildcats, wolves, etc., in the neighborhood.

V.—In Possession of the "Promised Land"

Monday, Nov. 22, 1819.—This day breakfasted with Mr. R. Morrison and dined with Mr. W. Morrison. These gentlemen are wealthy and live in very comfortable style. Mrs. R. Morrison is one of the most intelligent women that I have conversed with, and possesses a lady's privilege, while Mrs. W. Morrison might rank, in point of beauty with some of the belles of Philadelphia. Dr. Hill having accomplished his business, we set out from Kaskia at 2 o'clock, after bidding a friendly farewell to many new friends made in this place. I must confess I found a few possessing so much more merit than I anticipated that I parted with them reluctantly. Traveled twelve miles, and arrived at Mme. LeCount's. We supped with a tableful of French. Not one of them could speak English. Pumpkins, spoiled venison and rancid, oily butter for supper, added to the odor of a few 'coons and opossums that were ripening in the sun, induced us to cut our comfort short. During the night I was taken ill with rheumatism. Bled myself largely. Set out at 6 o'clock in the morning rather better, though dull. Passed some small lakes full of ducks and geese. Saw seven deer, some wild turkeys and other game. Retraced our former steps. Passed Cahokia, a small and unimproving village, and arrived at the town of Illinois at 7 o'clock p. m.

Wednesday, Nov. 24.—Crossed over to St. Louis to inquire for old friends or acquaintances from Philadelphia. Even an enemy would have been taken by the hand, but to my disappointment there was no arrival. Recrossed the Mississippi, and set out for Edwardsville. Passed some large lakes. Large and extremely fertile prairies, neat dwellings and good farms, well cultivated. Arrived at Edwardsville, a distance of twenty-two miles, at 7 o'clock. Edwardsville is a small but flourishing little village. Goods three prices. Labor high. Lands rich and the place thriving for an inland town.

Friday, Nov. 26.—Rainy day. Deposited deeds at recorder's office. Detained on land business. I expected this day to have set out for the bounty lands. Dr. Hill having fully accomplished his business, he declined accompanying me agreeable to promise, and I returned to St. Louis alone, leaving him behind, intending to seek more grateful company.

Wednesday, Dec. 1.—In consequence of the disappointment occasioned by Dr. Hill refusing to accompany me to the bounty lands, I was subjected to considerable expense, loss of time and much inconvenience. On the 3d day of December Dr. Hill set out for Philadelphia, in company with one of my friends, a Mr. Pratt, a clever old farmer and a missionary Methodist preacher. I accompanied them across the river. In parting with Dr. Hill I must in honesty confess I felt none of those unpleasant sensations produced at parting with a friend. A pleasant ride and a final adieu to him. After dividing my time between St. Louis and Illinois until the 8th day of December, I set out, in company with a Mr. B——, to visit the bounty lands. Traveled to Milton, a small town over the American bottom, twenty miles. This soil cannot be surpassed in fertility by any land upon the globe. Eighty and 100 bushels of corn to the acre are common crops without any labor except that which is necessary in planting. This, in truth, is the promised land—the land that flows with milk and honey. Stock in any quantities may be raised free from expense, and every article made by the farmer commands as high a price as in Philadelphia, and a more ready market. How many thousands are there in the eastern states who work like the slaves of the south and are barely able to support their families without even the hope in old age to become comfortable. Could they believe there was such a country in the world, could they know that lands of the first quality can be obtained so easily, and be informed that the rewards of industry are so great, they would instantly fly to the west and meet fatigue and hardships on the way with a smile. In a few years the consequence would be the accumulation of wealth and fair prospects for a rising family. Milton is situated on Wood river (a very small stream opposite the mouth of the Missouri river and within one and a half miles of the Mississippi). It is a flourishing little village only one and a half years old. Near this place lands command from $5 to $10 an acre. Milton, together with all the American bottom, is subject to bilious and intermittent fevers during the warm months. The banks of Wood river during the last war were often scoured by the Indians, and became the theater of some savage and barbarous deeds. A narrative hangs yet on the lips of the inhabitants, which has seldom found its parallel in the most remote desert by the most ferocious or bloodthirsty. Seven warriors attacked and murdered a female and her four little children almost in sight of her own dwelling. She and the little innocents had spent an evening at a friend's house, and were returning home. The shrieks of this unfortunate family brought the husband to the scalped and lifeless corpse of a beloved wife, and a tender and affectionate father to his four little children bleeding in death, the suckling child with a tomahawk sticking in its head. None but a husband and father can feel the deep agony which must arise from so bloody a transaction. Those warriors, whose companion was cruelty and whose happiness was in murder, were pursued by some resolute and spirited volunteers from the neighborhood. They were overtaken and every man put to death. Not long after this butchery another party fell upon a defenseless family in the same neighborhood. They shot an old man in his door, scalped a young female in the house and threw her in the fire, tomahawked and scalped two little children, whilst two boys made their escape—one 6 and the other 8 years old. These little children wandered about the fields and woods for three days without nourishment except the berries and roots which they were able to collect from the fields. Three times did they get in sight of the murderers, and as often hid themselves in the leaves, and finally found their way to a house and communicated the dreadful intelligence of the massacre. The hand that governs and protects all was outstretched to save these children in a manner unusual. I am now in sight of the death spot of those unfortunates, and expect to travel 100 miles farther, where but a short time since no track or trace was to be seen except that of the savage.

Thursday, Dec. 9.—Left Milton at 6 o'clock. Passed Alton, distance from Milton one and one-half miles. Here I must remark every man makes his own town and sometimes more than one. Within five miles there are five towns, as they are called, but all insignificant and improperly placed. Their names are Milton, Alton, Middle Alton, Lower Alton and Sales. Those mushroom towns in a short time will produce their own death. Although their lives are short they do mischief to the community. People in their neighborhood are unwise enough, for the sake of having a town lot, to give as much for a few feet of ground as would purchase a good farm (160 acres of land). They are then tied to the little town, where their property can never be of much value, nor can it produce a living. Strangers or men at a distance purchase lots in towns they have never seen, under the impression they are, or soon will be, like the eastern cities. To townmakers or land speculators the subject is very pleasant. To hear them describe the advantages of a barren spot perhaps ten miles from any navigable stream, and it is more than probable not even near a spring branch that would float a cornstalk boat. Could you believe their assertions, a single lot which they have for sale would produce a fortune that would make a man comfortable all his old days. I must not omit an anecdote that applies well to those townmakers. A gentleman visited the fertile lands of Illinois. In the course of his journey he passed very many of those trifling towns. When about to turn toward his home he had occasion to enter a tavern for refreshment. Here they kept a register of names, a common practice in the western country. On entering the door the barkeeper requested him to enter his name. He hesitated, appeared confused and begged to be excused, stating he had a particular objection which he would make known when he was about to start, provided it could be kept a secret, which was consented to. This was sufficient to arouse the suspicions of all who were in the house as to the stranger's honesty. All the neighbors assembled. Some declared he was a horse thief, others a murderer, while the most charitable stated he had been a member of the penitentiary fraternity. After obtaining refreshments with some difficulty he mounted his horse amidst the gaping crowd, called for the barkeeper and whispered in his ear, loud enough for everybody to hear: "My name is Robinson. I objected to mentioning it, fearing you would name a town after me!" He spurred his horse, rode off and left the gaping crowd, which is always to be found about little villages, much disappointed and chagrined. Traveled twenty-seven miles over a rich country, part rolling, part broken, belonging to the United States. This part of Illinois is high and healthy and is well watered. Arrived at the Widow Jackaway's ferry, one mile above the junction of the Mississippi and Illinois rivers. Passed several small French huts, made principally of bark, very open and but little appearance of comfort. Large strings of geese, ducks, opossums and skunks hung upon the sides of the huts to ripen. At Mrs. Jackaway's we were entertained kindly. We slept on a bedcord and covered with a cow-hide. There was but one room to the house, hen house excepted, which formed rather a separate apartment, but without a door, and the fowls had to pass through the house to get to their lodgings. This appeared necessary to protect them from the wolves and wildcats.

Friday, Dec. 10.—Left Mrs. Jackaway's at 8 o'clock. Crossed the Illinois on a platform placed on two canoes, and arrived in safety on the bounty lands a little above the junction of the bold Mississippi and the Illinois. Each of those rivers is about half a mile wide. Here a new country presented itself, of better quality and under more advantages than I was prepared to meet. Traveled all day through the woods, meadows and prairies. It began raining. We were fortunate in being able to reach Mme. Belfie's, on the banks of the Illinois. On inquiring if we could remain all night, being wet and uncomfortable, we were received with all the politeness that characterizes the French under all circumstances, and given in broken English a hearty welcome. Supper being prepared for the family, we were invited to partake. Curiosity, which has led us into many scrapes, was on tiptoe. Wild goose was very good. After fishing in the dish some time I found something with a new flavor. It proved to be skunk. Made a light supper and retired to bed. Mme. Belfie lives in a log hut about twelve feet square. This contains a bed for the old lady and her daughter, two dogs, one hen and chickens, two chairs, and one table. It is easy to imagine there was not much room left for two common-sized men. However, we spread down our buffalo-skin and covered with our great-coats, and for the first time I slept on a floor. Sore sides, but good spirits and no cold. Began to envy the red-men of the forest. They have no care, no trouble, to wrinkle the brow.

Sunday, Dec. 12.—Left Mme. Belfie's after being treated with the utmost hospitality and politeness. She discovered herself to be a wellbred woman, but she was not one of fortune's favorites. During the evening she amused us by giving a small history of her life. However, her story ended with a detail of misfortunes. About seven years ago a dreadful earthquake occurred at New Madrid, on the Mississippi where was the habitation of this lady and her husband. Their home was swallowed up, their slaves ran away, all their property was lost, and with great difficulty got off with their lives. The earth opened and swallowed up many houses, then threw up water and trees to a great height. Several lives were lost and many families ruined. These unfortunate French people then sought shelter from the storm near the forks of the Mississippi and Illinois rivers, intending, by industry and frugality, to make an effort to get forward once more in the world. The manner in which this old lady gave an account of her misfortunes was truly interesting whilst she made a strong impression on the mind by her gestures. The only article saved from the earthquake was a bag of gunpowder, with which, in this country, where there is an abundance of game, plenty of provisions may be obtained. It was necessary that the bag containing this powder should be tied. The wife held whilst the husband tied the string, but drawing it very tight one end slipped through his fingers and the jerk threw the bag of powder into the fire, which blew them both up and burnt all their clothes off them. They were ill a considerable time, but recovered. They had nothing left, but, like the French, they were cheerful, not discouraged, and almost happy. They are now getting forward again, and, oh, may the storm of adversity never again assail the cottage of genuine hospitality!

Monday, Dec. 13.—Left Mme. Belfie's, crossed the Illinois and breakfasted at the Widow Jackaway's. Here we met with some travelers, ladies and gentlemen, who had been upwards of three months on the water in an open boat. They were forty-nine days on Lake Michigan and were bound from Mackinaw to St. Louis. We retraced our former footsteps for four miles and traveled on the shore of the Mississippi twelve miles. On the shore of the Mississippi for miles stand cliffs or bluffs composed of rocks, stones and marine substances. They are from 100 to 400 feet high. In many places there appear to be pillars or regular columns supporting those wonderful heights, which in many places appear almost ready to tumble on those below. In the body of this irregular mass I entered three caves, two large enough to protect a considerable family from the storm and the third sufficiently large to contain twenty men on horseback. This cave is supported by a neat pillar in the center. In several places I saw marks on the cliffs at a considerable height made with the different colors that Indians use to paint themselves. From their arrangement, it appears the men of the desert had tried their agility to place the highest mark on the cliffs. Near those caves are the names of a number of persons cut in the soft parts of the rocks. In traveling along the shore I picked up several specimens of the most beautiful pearl I ever beheld. It is so plentiful here that no person thinks it worth picking up. After traveling forty-three miles through the rain I arrived again at St. Louis on the 13th of December. In approaching the Illinois and Mississippi near the mouth from Milton a scene beautiful, grand and sublime presents itself. Immediately after leaving a thick wood you find yourself on the point of a knob or small mountain many hundred feet high. From this eminence you have a view of three bold and beautiful streams—the Mississippi, Illinois and Missouri. The country on one side is bordered with very high bluffs as far as the eye can reach, and on the other is a meadow or plain prairie, which extends for many miles in every direction, and occasionally is interspersed with handsome forest trees. The shells and marine substances which are found near those large rivers are similar to those seen in the West Indies and on the seaboard, but I have no recollection of ever having seen such near any stream remote from the sea. This, with many other appearances, holds out a strong inducement to believe that the sea once covered this country for many hundred miles; that the cliffs were its borders, and that some violent convulsion of nature has caused it to recede and expose to view the most fertile country on the globe. Should accident place this memorandum in the hands of any person, an apology will be necessary for expressions and opinions which it contains. In speaking of particular states and people I have expressed myself as a traveler, but have stated facts. The country traveled over by strangers is generally the most barren, and the inhabitants a coarse sample of the state. When I have expressed an opinion which appears not to be liberal, it is intended to apply to the lower class, of whom there is a large majority. A gentleman or lady is the same all over the world, and although in the different states there are many characters of the first respectability, and although some of the French are rich, liberal and gentlemanly men, yet this memorandum is strictly correct when applied to the general mass.

Richard Lee Mason.