d all seemed very strange, but there was much to interest
us, and we soon became accustomed to our new experiences. The
ceaseless walking to and fro of the men who propelled us along was an
accompaniment to all our daily amusements and we went to sleep lulled
by their regular footfalls.

And so we journeyed on, day after day, until we made the whole three
hundred miles and landed at Ft. Crawford--Prairie du Chien. I do not
remember how many weeks we traveled thus, but I know that all the
children on board the boat had chicken pox and recovered during the
trip. Arriving at the "Prairie," as it was frequently called in those
days, we were to take a steamer for St. Louis and New Orleans; but
before our departure I remember we were all vaccinated by the surgeon
at that post, whose name was Dr. James, and I know that in every case
he was very successful. Our arrival at St. Louis, the first city the
children had ever seen, was an epoch in our lives, and I can clearly
recall my feeling of loneliness at the utter absence of everything
military. It was indeed a new world to me. I could not understand it,
and felt not a little indignant that so many men passed and repassed
my father as we walked along the streets without saluting him, for
which remissness in duty I suggested the guard-house. Arriving at New
Orleans, where we were much overpowered by the heat, we remained only
long enough to secure passage to New York on the sailing vessel
"Crawford," and departed on our first sea voyage. We were twenty-seven
days out of sight of land, encountering a fearful storm off Cape
Hatteras, and the crimson light from the light-house there, like the
red eye of some great monster gazing at us through the gloom, when we
were every moment expecting to be engulfed, made an ineffaceable
impression upon me. But He who is "mightier than the noise of many
waters, or the mighty waves of the sea," delivered us from our peril
and brought us safely to our desired haven, where we were warmly
welcomed by dear friends and where we found ourselves famous as having
come from the "Far West," a part of the world of which their ideas
were most vague and imperfect. The story of our little Andrew created
intense excitement, and crowds of people came to see a child who had
so thrilling a history. Among these visitors came Mrs. Divie Bethune
and the widow of Alexander Hamilton, who were lady patronesses of an
orphan asylum in the city. They urged strongly that he