a world-power?

It was a difficult task in a novel to gather the elements necessary to
picture this movement: the territory was vast, the types bewildering.
The lonely mountain cabin; the seigniorial life of the tide-water; the
foothills and mountains which the Scotch-Irish have marked for their own
to this day; the Wilderness Trail; the wonderland of Kentucky, and the
cruel fighting in the border forts there against the most relentless of
foes; George Rogers Clark and his momentous campaign which gave to the
Republic Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois; the transition period--the
coming of the settler after the pioneer; Louisiana, St. Louis, and New
Orleans,--to cover this ground, to picture the passions and politics
of the time, to bring the counter influence of the French Revolution
as near as possible to reality, has been a three years' task. The
autobiography of David Ritchie is as near as I can get to its solution,
and I have a great sense of its incompleteness.

I had hoped when I planned the series to bring down this novel through
the stirring period which ended, by a chance, when a steamboat brought
supplies to Jackson's army in New Orleans--the beginning of the era of
steam commerce on our Western waters. This work will have to be reserved
for a future time.

I have tried to give a true history of Clark's campaign as seen by an
eyewitness, trammelled as little as possible by romance. Elsewhere, as
I look back through these pages, I feel as though the soil had only been
scraped. What principality in the world has the story to rival that of
John Sevier and the State of Franklin? I have tried to tell the truth as
I went along. General Jackson was a boy at the Waxhaws and dug his toes
in the red mud. He was a man at Jonesboro, and tradition says that he
fought with a fence-rail. Sevier was captured as narrated. Monsieur
Gratiot, Monsieur Vigo, and Father Gibault lost the money which they
gave to Clark and their country. Monsieur Vigo actually travelled in
the state which Davy describes when he went down the river with him.
Monsieur Gratiot and Colonel Auguste Chouteau and Madame Chouteau are
names so well known in St. Louis that it is superfluous to say that such
persons existed and were the foremost citizens of the community.

Among the many to whom my apologies and thanks are due is Mr. Pierre
Chouteau of St. Louis, whose unremitting labors have preserved and
perpetuated the history and traditions of the country of h