a2 Biographical Sketch of [Joxz, 
safety at Louisville, being upwards of 700 miles from the place of 
his departure. Here he disposed of his skiff, and then set out on 
foot for Lexington, 72 miles further. At this last place he pur- 
chased. a horse ; and being prepared for the long and disagreeable 
route which lay before him, he resolutely explored his way alone, 
and safely reached the town of Natchez on May 17, being a dis- 
tance of 678 miles from Lexington. In his journal he says—‘ This 
journey, 478 miles from Nashville, 1 have performed alone, through 
difficulties that those who have never passed the road could not 
have a conception of.” We may readily suppose that he had not 
only difficulties to encounter, encumbered as he necessarily was with 
his shooting apparatus and increasing baggage, but also dangers, in 
journeying through a frightful wilderness, where almost impene- 
trable cane-swamps and morasses present obstacles to the progress 
of the traveller which require all his resolution and activity to 
overcome. Added to which, he had a severe attack of the dysentery, 
when far remote from any situation which could be productive of 
either comfort or relief; and he was under the painful necessity of 
trudging on, debilitated and dispirited with a disease which threat- 
ened to put a period to his existence. An Indian, having been made 
acquainted with his situation, recommended the eating of straw- 
berries, which were then fully ripe, and in great abundance. On 
this delightful fruit, and newly laid eggs, taken raw, he wholly 
lived for several days; and he attributed his restoration to health to 
these simple remedies. 
Previously to entering the wilderness, Mr. Wilson had the melan- 
choly satisfaction of shedding tears of sorrow at the grave of his 
friend, the amiable and intrepid Governor Lewis ; who, distracted 
by base imputations and cruel neglect, closed his honourable and 
useful life by an inglorious act of suicide, in the cabin of a settler 
named Grinder, and was buried close by the common path, with 
nothing but a few loose rails thrown over his grave. 
On June 6, our traveller reached New Orleans, distant from 
Natchez 252 miles. As the siekly season was fast approaching, it 
was deemed advisable not to tarry long in this place; and his affairs 
being despatched, he took passage in a ship bound to New York, at 
which place he arrived on July 30, and soon reached Philadelphia, 
enriched with a copious stock of materials for his work, including 
several beautiful and hitherto unknown birds. 
In the newly settled country through which Mr. Wilson had to 
pass in his last journey, it was reasonable not to expect much 
encouragement in the way of subscriptions. Yet he was honoured 
with the names of many respectable individuals, and received not 
only civilities, but also kind treatment. From his journal and 
letters we might select many passages of much interest to the 
reader; but the limits allotted to this memoir will not admit of 
copiousness of detail, and we shall content ourselves with two or 
three extracts. 
“* In Hanover, Pennsylvania, a certain Judge H. took upon 
