The rolling hills, the broad river, the green forests seemed like old friends.
"Here I am again," he mused.

"What a fool a man can be.

I have left a fine old plantation, slaves, horses, a country noted for its pretty women--for what?
Here there can be nothing for me but Indians, hard work, privation, and trouble.

Yet I could not get here quickly enough.

Pshaw! What use to speak of the possibilities of a new country.