space for the large stock of necessaries we must take. For well I knew that we were about to make no holiday trip, but a migration to some distant region where we might find nothing but the bare soil to welcome us. Now there was but one of these steamers just then lying at the wharves of Jefferson city, and although we might do much by towing, I was not satisfied to put all our eggs in one basket. But where to get others?
After considering the matter long and anxiously, I determined to send William Gell, the only man I could thoroughly trust, with a posse of engineers and two good river pilots, down to St. Louis, more than a hundred miles down stream, on board our one steamboat. The risk was great, for if anything happened to this vessel our retreat was absolutely cut off. But I saw no other course open to me, and felt sure that at St. Louis sufficient vessels would be found to take us all on board with our household gods.
It was on the 21st June—Midsummer Day—that Gell and his crew started. I could not expect to see them the next day, but when the third day passed without any sign I became terribly anxious, and by
