LEAVES FROM MY JOURNAL.

We traveled about fifty miles that day, and at night stopped
at an old tavern, in a village called Cadron, which
was deserted because it was believed to be haunted by evil
spirits.

We made a fire in the tavern, roasted a piece of our pork,
ate our supper, said our prayers, went into a chamber, lay
down on the bare floor, and were soon asleep.

I dreamed I was at my father's house in a good feather bed,
and I had a good night's rest. When I awoke the bed vanished,
and I found myself on the bare floor and well rested, not
having been troubled with evil spirits or anything else.

We thanked the Lord for His goodness to us, ate the
remainder of our provisions and continued our journey down
the river to Little Rock, the capital of Arkansas, which then
consisted of only a few cabins.

After visiting the place, we crossed the river and tied up
our canoe, which had carried us safely one hundred and fifty
miles.

We then took the old military road, leading from Little
Rock to Memphis, Tennessee. This road lay through swamps,
and was covered with mud and water most of the way, for one
hundred and seventy miles. We walked forty miles in a day
through mud and water knee deep.

On the 24th of March, after traveling some ten miles through
mud, I was taken lame with a sharp pain in my knee. I sat
down on a log.

My companion, who was anxious to get to his home in
Kirtland, left me sitting in an alligator swamp. I did not see
him again for two years. I knelt down in the mud and
prayed, and the Lord healed me, and I went on my way
rejoicing.

On the 27th of March, I arrived at Memphis, weary and
hungry. I went to the best tavern in the place, kept by Mr.
Josiah Jackson. I told him I was a stranger, and had no
money. I asked him if he would keep me over night.

He inquired of me what my business was.

I told him I was a preacher of the gospel.

He laughed, and said that I did not look much like a
preacher.