90 John Bachman. 



them prepared, and in laying plans for the accom- 

 plishment of that great work which he has under- 

 taken. Time passed rapidly away, and it seems but 

 as yesterday since we met, and now, alas ! he is al- 

 ready separated from me — and in all human proba- 

 bility we shall never meet again. 



I am well aware of all the difficulties your hus 

 band will have to encounter in a wild and, in some 

 respects, an unexplored country. He purposes trav- 

 ersing the swamps of Florida — the wilds of Mis- 

 souri — the snows of the Rocky Mountains — and, if 

 possible, to reach the Pacific, He will have to en- 

 counter not only the climate, but the animals — the 

 savages — the parched deserts of the Southwest — and 

 the snows of the North. But I depend much on his 

 hardy constitution, on his knowledge of the coun- 

 tries through wdiich he has to pass, and on his admi- 

 rable tact in avoiding and extricating himself from 

 difficulties. But, above all, I have a firm reliance 

 on the goodness of Providence that he will spare 

 his useful life, and enable him to answer the high 

 expectations of his friends and his country. 



Mr. Audubon has promised frequently to write to 

 me, and I shall feel as much interested in all of his 

 movements, as if he were a brother, or the dearest 

 friend I have on earth. 



I need not inform you that Mr. Audubon was a 

 general favorite in our city. His gentlemanly de- 

 portment, his travels and experience, his informa- 

 tion and general talents, caused him to be sought 

 after by all. But your husband knew that the great 

 objects before him required his unremitted atten- 

 tion, and he was obliged to deny himself to his 

 friends, on many occasions, and devoted to them 

 only his evenings. 



There seems quite a blank, in my house, since he 

 Jias gone, for we looked on him as one of our family. 



