The most amusing part of our experience was yet to come.  I had been speculating, as evening approached, on our prospects for the night’s accommodation.  As our pale, melancholy-looking landlady and her fat baby were evidently the only specimens of the feminine gender about the establishment, it was hardly reasonable to suppose that any of the other cabins contained wherewithal to furnish us a comfortable lodging, and the one in which we were offered nothing of the sort to view, but two beds, uncurtained, extended against the farther wall.  My doubts were after a time resolved, by observing the hostess stretch a cord between the two, on which she hung some petticoats and extra garments, by way of a partition, after which she invited us to occupy one of them.

My only preparation was, to wrap my cloak around me and lie down with my face to the wall; but the good people were less ceremonious, for at the distance of scarcely two feet, we could not be mistaken in the sound of their garments being, not “laid aside,” but whipped over the partition-wall between us.

Our waking thoughts, however, were only those of thankfulness for so comfortable a lodging after the trials and fatigues we had undergone; and even these were of short duration, for our eyes were soon closed in slumber.

The next day’s sun rose clear and bright.  Refreshed and invigorated, we looked forward with pleasure to a recommencement of our journey, confident of meeting no more mishaps by the way.  Mr. Hamilton kindly offered to accompany us to his next neighbor’s, the trifling distance of twenty-five miles.  From Kellogg’s to Ogie’s Ferry, on the Rock River, the road being much travelled, we should be in no danger, Mr. H. said, of again losing our way.

The miner who owned the wife and baby, and who, consequently, was somewhat more humanized than his comrades, in taking leave of us “wished us well out of the country, and that we might never have occasion to return to it!”

“I pity a body,” said he, “when I see them making such an awful mistake as to come out this way; for comfort never touched this Western country.”

We found Mr. Hamilton as agreeable a companion as on the preceding day, but a most desperate rider.  He galloped on at such a rate that, had I not exchanged my pony for the fine, noble Jerry, I should have been in danger of being left behind.

Well mounted as we all were, he sometimes nearly distanced us.  We were now among the branches of the Pickatonick, and the country had lost its prairie character and become rough and broken.  We went dashing on, sometimes down ravines, sometimes through narrow passes, where, as I followed, I left fragments of my veil upon the projecting and interwoven branches.  Once my hat became entangled, and, had not my husband sprung to my rescue, I must have shared the fate of Absalom, Jerry’s ambition to keep his place in the race making it probable he would do as did the mule who was under the unfortunate prince.