Transcription:
Superior, July 30, '94 John Muir. My dear Friend. How do I account for your sepulchral silence? You have gone to rescue
Sheldon Jackson who, as I have noted, was stranded on some furthest shore while jeoparding his life as the apostle of the
Aleuts. But you ought to be home by this time, from an enterprise like Stanley's plunge to bring up livingston from the depths
of darkest Africa. I am just landed here after an Itinerarium ecstaticum. As asked by the Am. Ant. Soc. of which since Bancroft's
death I am among the half-dozen of longest standing. I addressed them at their Boston annual. I talked about a long-lost Journal
of the Lewis and Clark overland. Interviews, which I had long desired with Winthrop, Holmes, and Norton. I had. My after-calls
were many, in Wellesley, Natick, Worcester, Charlemont, Norwich, Brooklyn, Kinderhook, Bennington, Rutland, Woodstock, Burlington,
Essex, etc. In all and in many more, I found old friends.--our here and there upon the rest abyss.--and thanks to youthful
memories--we rejuvenated. 01833