For days we toiled on, and on Friday we took a new route over the mountains. We started about seven o’clock and crossed Big Creek with some difficulty, and not without danger, the water being deep and rapid and the bottom very rocky. After crossing we had to toil several hours over high mountains, and then came to Catahouche Creek; here on its banks in the woods we took a little bread and gave our horses some oats. The venerable bishops asked a blessing over our humble meal, and were as thankful as if seated at a well spread table in a parlor. This was a deep and rapid stream. After we had refreshed both man and beast we prepared to cross. There was no bridge. Brother M’Gee rode through and we drove our horses after him, then the bishops and myself walked over the rapid stream on a tree, and were thankful to get across in safety. The next thing was to climb the Catoluche Mountain. No wonder the bishop wrote, “But O, the mountain, height after height, and five miles over;” and to add to our troubles, we got lost in the wilderness and crossed other streams, wandering hour after hour in the home of wild beasts. Seventeen miles we went through a dreary wilderness. We came to a gate which we entered and passed through the settlements on Jonathan’s and Richland Creeks, and came in at Brother Jacob Shuck’s at nine o’clock in the evening, long after dark, weary, cold, and hungry; but my soul was stayed on the Lord. Bishop Asbury characterizes this as “an awful day.” Bishop M’Kendree and Brother Magee went a few miles to attend a two days’ meeting at Rev. Samuel Edney’s, and we spent the Sabbath in Buncombe. Bishop Asbury preached for the Rev. Mr. Newton, a Presbyterian minister, whom he loved exceedingly, not only for his catholic spirit, but his strong resemblance to Bishop Whatcoat both in regard to placidity and solemnity. After crossing mountains and streams, a week from Monday 10th brought us to Rev. James Jenkins’s. He had located some years before, and the bishop was delighted that he was going to re-enter the traveling connection. The bishop here received from the North the sad news of the death of his old friends Jesse Hollingsworth, Peter Hoffman, and John Bloodgood. The next day Brother Jenkins rode with us to Camden. Father Asbury met a class at night in Brother Mathis’s room. In regard to our late route Mr. Asbury wrote thus: “Great fatigue, my lame horse, and unknown roads where we lose ourselves, are small trials; but ‘as thy days so shall thy strength be.’” He then wrote what is very complimentary to the inhabitants of Carolina, and contrasts strangely with some who would take the bishop’s last cent for a little refreshment: “We are not, nor have we been lately, much among our own people; but it has made little difference in the article of expense. The generous Carolinians are polite and kind, and will not take our money.”