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Updated: June 6, 2025
They said there had not been any there. The young women were modest and genteel in behavior. I passed on to the Cumberland River, was set over the river by the ferryman, and lodged in his house. So far all was as God had shown me; but I was still at the outer edge of my familiar scenery. I stayed about a week with the ferryman. His name was Vanleven, a relative of my friend and banker in Illinois.
We would go over the country and buy up chickens, butter, feathers, beeswax, and coon skins, and haul them to St. Louis, and carry back calicoes and other goods in payment for the articles first purchased. We made some money that way. While carrying on this trade I drew the remainder of my money from my friend, Vanleven, and began my preparations for joining the Saints.
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