qualifying himself to become a missionary among the Indians.

Impatient of restraint, and indignant at remonstrance and admonition, he
soon abandoned the missionary scheme that appeared to require too severe
initiation, and resolved to make his escape from the college. The mode
adopted to carry this project into execution was strongly marked with
that spirit of enterprise by which, in after-life, he was so highly
distinguished.

On the margin of the Connecticut river, which runs near the college,
stood many majestic forest trees, nourished by a rich soil. One of these
Ledyard contrived to cut down. He then set himself at work to fashion
its trunk into a canoe, and in this labour he was assisted by some of
his fellow-students. As the canoe was fifty feet long and three wide,
and was to be dug out and constructed by these unskilful workmen, the
task was not a trifling one, nor such as could be speedily executed.
Operations were carried on with spirit, however, till Ledyard wounded
himself with an axe, and was disabled for several days. When recovered,
he applied himself anew to his work; the canoe was finished, launched
into the stream, and, by the further aid of his companions, equipped and
prepared for a voyage. His wishes were now at their consummation, and
bidding adieu to these haunts of the Muses, where he had gained a
dubious fame, he set off alone, with a light heart, to explore a river,
with the navigation of which he had not the slightest acquaintance. The
distance to Hartford was not less than one hundred and forty miles, much
of the way was through a wilderness, and in several places there were
dangerous falls and rapids.

With a bear-skin covering, and a good supply of provisions, he launched
into the current and floated leisurely down, seldom using the paddle,