In March 1836, I wanted to go [from Fort Winnebago, now Portage, Columbia Co., Wis.] by way of Sheboygan, on a journey to New York; so the commanding officer [of the fort] gave a soldier by the name of Moore a furlough for the rest of his time - about a month - and his discharge, for the purpose of accompanying me.  I got a jumper-sleigh and a harness, calculating to throw the sleigh away when it was necessary; put my horse before the jumper, and Moore and I started. We went to Fond du Lac, where we found, on the bank of the stream, part of an old wigwam and decided to encamp in it.  I went to building a fire, and Moore went to the stream for water.   I heard him talking and supposed some Indian had come up; but on his return he said he was swearing; for he had to cut through three feet of ice before he got water.  We made our tea, ate our supper, and slept finely. Next morning we started east, but, after getting upon the highlands, the small bushes were so thick I told my companion we could not take the sleigh any farther; so we left it and packed our baggage on the horse, Moore and I walking.  When I got tired I mounted the horse and rode, and after getting rested would jump off and lead him.
At length we struck a trail and followed it, supposing it must lead to Sheboygan; but after going some distance, I concluded it led too far south, so we altered our course and struck north of east.  As night approached, I selected a camping-ground near a little lake, as we supposed.  The snow was so frozen to the ground we could not get it off; so I cut a lot of bushes with the leaves on and spread them on the frozen snow, upon which we lay after building a good fire and eating our supper.  Moore said he cut through three feet of ice for water and struck into mud, thus priving it to be a marsh instead of a lake.  We had to melt ice for water. The next day we pushed on, and, hearing the report of a gun, I called aloud, and an Indian came up, who directed us to a trail which took us to a house on the river, where a man by the name of Follet was living. I had intended stopping here a day to look as some land I had purchased, but Follet told me he had no hay or anything for my horse, and there was none to be had, as there were no other inhabitants in that region.  I found he had some cornmeal and I persuaded him to let me have a peck, for which I paid him $1.  I then decided upon going on in the morning.  Moore struck up a bargain with Follet for a pony to ride to Chicago, so we mounted in the morning and renewed our journey.