I determined
therefore to go up the Wisconsin, and by the way of Green Bay. For this
purpose, I purchased a light canoe, engaged men to paddle it, and laid
in provisions and stores to last to Green Bay. Having done so, I
embarked about 3 o'clock P.M., descending the majestic Mississippi, with
spirits enlivened by the hope of soon rejoining friends far away. At the
same time, Mr. Holliday left for the same destination in a separate
canoe. On reaching the mouth of the Wisconsin, we entered that broad
tributary, and found the current strong. We passed the point of rocks
called _Petite Gres_, and encamped at _Grand Gres_.
Several hours previous to leaving the prairie, a friend handed me an
enveloped packet, saying, "Read it when you get to the mouth of the
Wisconsin." I had no conception what it related to, but felt great
anxiety to reach the place mentioned. I then opened it, and read as
follows: "I cannot separate from you without expressing my grateful
acknowledgments for the honor you have done me, by connecting my name
with your _Narrative of Travels in the Central Portions of the
Mississippi Valley, &c.
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