hat was known as the Chickasaw Bluffs, below the
confluence of the two streams. Here was a little post of the army,
arranged for the commander, Major Neely, Indian agent at that point.

As was the custom, all barges tied up here; and the Governor's craft
moored at the foot of the bluff. Its chief passenger was so weak that
he hardly could walk up the steep steps cut in the muddy front of the
bank.

"Governor Lewis!" exclaimed Major Neely, as he met him. "You are ill!
You are in an ague!"

"Perhaps, perhaps. Give me rest here for a day or two, if you please.
Then I fancy I shall be strong enough to travel East. See if you can
get horses for myself and my party--I am resolved not to go by sea. I
have not time."

The Governor of Louisiana, haggard, flushed with fever, staggered as
he followed his friend into the apartment assigned to him in one of
the cabins of the little post. He wore his usual traveling-garb; but
now, for some strange reason he seemed to lack his usual immaculate
neatness. Instead of the formal dress of his office, he wore an old,
stained, faded uniform coat, its pocket bulging with papers. This he
kept at the head of his bed when at length he flung himself down,
almost in the delirium of fever.

He lay here for two days, restless, sleepless. But at length, having
in the mean time scarcely tasted food, he rose and declared that he
must go on.

"Major," said he, "I can ride now. Have you horses for the journey?"

"Are you sure, Governor, that your strength is sufficient?" Neely
hesitated as he looked at the wasted form before him, at the hollow
eye, the fevered face.

"It is not a question of my personal convenience, Major," said
Meriwether Lewis. "Time presses for me. I must go on!"

"At least you shall not go alone," said Major Neely. "You should have
some escort. Doubtless you have important papers?"

Meriwether Lewis nodded.

"My servant has arranged everything, I fancy. Can you get an extra man
or two? The Natchez Trace is none too safe."

That military road, as they both knew, was indeed no more than a horse
path cut through the trackless forest which lay across the States of
Mississippi, Tennessee and Kentucky. Its reputation was not good. Many
a trader passing north from New Orleans with coin, many a settler
passing west with packhorses and household effects, had disappeared on
this wilderness road, and left no sign. It was customary for parties
of any consequence to ride in compan