The trip over the Cascade Mountains was the most difficult of any part of the journey, and involved the most suffering. The route was by the old Indian trail at the base of Mount Hood, on the north side. A snow-storm was encountered here, and by this fourteen of the horses were stampeded and took the back trail for The Dalles, where there was an abundance of grass. Matthieu, however, managed to keep himself comfortable during the storm by kindling an immense fire in the timber, and retained his horses by tying them. On this part of the trip he was accompanied by Hugh Burns, a well-known Irishman, who made himself useful as cook. At Oregon City, which he reached about the twenty-fifth of September (F. X. M.) the first man that he met was Father Waller, the well-known member of the Methodist Society. By this kindly gentleman, Matthieu was at once and very pressingly invited home to supper. “He wanted to hear all about my journey.” Matthieu, however, felt rather delicate about accepting his hospitality. After his hard journey over the last range of mountains he felt outrageously hungry; but, for this very reason, was timid about partaking a “company dinner,” so he began apologizing: “I am looking rough and very dirty,” he said, “Had you not better excuse me?” “No, no,” said Father Waller, “you must come.” The neat house, the supper table with its snowy cloth and shining dishes, and the care of the lady, Mrs. Waller, to have a nice repast, greatly impressed the hungry immigrant. But particularly was his appetite whetted, if that were possible, by the sight and smell of potatoes—an article of food he had not seen for months. When seated at the table he was hardly able to restrain himself; he was taken not a little aback, however, when, instead of proceeding to the meal at once, the good missionary began by asking a blessing, which he extended into quite lengthy devotions. “It was the longest prayer I ever heard,” says Mr. Matthieu.