The MS. which I received from Colonel Durrett is entitled: “memorandom of the voige by land from fort Smith to the Rockey mountains”—and is the most like those mountains of any I have ever undertaken to overcome. My eminent friend does not exaggerate the difficulty of deciphering the characters which he aptly styles “hieroglyphics,” and which have hitherto kept this writing a sealed book. The text begins verso of the title, and ostensibly runs pp. 1-264, but pagination is once skipped and twice duplicated. The folios may be called of square note-paper size, nearly that of a small quarto book—8 × 6½ inches for pp. 1-180, but larger, nearly 9 × 7, for the rest. The ragged edges make exact measurements impracticable, Father Time’s paper-mill having turned out a deckel-edged product, so fashionable nowadays. The sheets, of four pages or two folios each, are gathered in 16-page packets, the outsides of which are now much soiled—indeed, the rough, unruled surfaces are all darkened with the dust of three-quarters of a century, and the ink is faded to match the same subdued monotone, except in places where it recedes to the vanishing point. The writing is upon both sides of the paper; and the whole effect, if it could be facsimiled, would be a bibliomaniac’s dream of delight. At first sight, this manuscript appears illegible; no one can read it off-hand. Nevertheless, this writing proves readable upon sufficient study of the alphabetic characters which Fowler invented to suit himself, like that classic old Theban Cadmus, or his modern imitator, Cherokee Sequoiah. I managed to master it under the agreeable circumstances of my visit to Louisville, to which my host on that occasion has so pleasantly alluded in the letter printed above; and after that my secretary also proved herself equal to the task when she took the matter in hand to copy for the press. There are hardly a dozen words in which doubt attaches to a single letter, and probably not half as many have proven altogether illegible.