CHAPTER XIV.
WILLIAM S.HAMILTON--KELLOGG'S GROVE.
The next morning, after a cheerful breakfast, at which we were joined by the Rev.Mr.Kent, of Galena, we prepared for our journey.

I had reconciled my husband to continuing our route towards Chicago, by assuring him that I felt as fresh and bright as when I first set out from home.
There seemed some apprehension, however, that we might have difficulty in "striking the trail" to Hamilton's _diggings_, our next point of destination.
The directions we received were certainly obscure.

We were to pursue a given trail for a certain number of miles, when we should come to a crossing into which we were to turn, taking an easterly direction; after a time, this would bring us to a deep trail leading straight to Hamilton's.

In this open country there are no landmarks.

One elevation is so exactly like another, that if you lose your trail there is almost as little hope of regaining it as of finding a pathway in the midst of the ocean.[15] The trail, it must be remembered, is not a broad highway, but a narrow path, deeply indented by the hoofs of the horses on which the Indians travel in single file.