My original plan on leaving Maine was to make a prospecting tour through the West and South. I had been in Prairie du Chien for a season, and as soon as my contract to cut hay for the fort and my harvesting work was done. I started, with two of my comrades, in a birch bark canoe for New Orleans. This mode of traveling proving slow and tedious, after two days, on our arrival at Dubuque, we sold our canoe and took passage on the steamer Smelter for St. Louis, which place we reached on the seventeenth of October. We remained five days, stopping at the Union Hotel. St. Louis was by far the finest and largest city I had yet seen in the West. Its levee was crowded with drays and other vehicles and lined with steamers and barges. Its general appearance betokened prosperity. On the twenty-second, I left on the steamer George Collier for New Orleans, but the yellow fever being reported in that city, I remained several days at Baton Rouge. On the second of November I re-embarked for New Orleans, where I found a lodging at the Conti Street Hotel. New Orleans was even then a large and beautiful city. Its levee and streets were remarkable for their cleanness, but seemed almost deserted. Owing to a recent visitation of the yellow fever and the financial crisis of 1837, business was almost suspended. These were hard times in New Orleans. Hundreds of men were seeking employment, and many of them were without money or friends. It was soon very evident to me that I had come to a poor place to better my fortunes. After a thorough canvass, I found but one situation vacant, and that was in a drinking saloon, and was not thought of for an instant. I remained fifteen days, my money gradually diminishing, when I concluded to try the interior. I took steamer for Vicksburg, and thence passed up the Yazoo to Manchester, where I spent two days in the vain search for employment, offering to do any kind of work. I was in the South, where the labor was chiefly done by negroes. I was friendless and without letters of recommendation, and for a man under such circumstances to be asking for employment was in itself a suspicious circumstance. I encountered everywhere coldness and distrust. I returned to Vicksburg, and, fortunately, had still enough money left to secure a deck passage to the North, but was obliged to live sparingly, and sleep without bedding. I kept myself somewhat aloof from the crew and passengers. The captain and clerk commented on my appearance, and were, as I learned from a conversation that I could not help but overhear, keeping a close eye upon me for being so quiet and restrained. It was true that the western rivers were infested with desperate characters, gamblers and thieves such as the Murrell gang. Might I not be one of them. I was truly glad when, on the fifth of December, we landed at St. Louis. It seemed nearer my own country; but finding no employment there, I embarked on the steamer Motto for