Bierstadt, that Prince of friends, has given me his ticket to sail on the ship Great Republic, one of the fastest sailors in any Ocean. She is bound for Boston via the Cape, and will stop but twice, in Chile, and in Havana. However I could have gotten home, penniless and ill, broken and unable to do the least work, I do not know, without Bierstadt, so strong, so faithful, so generous and unstinting! He will go back via the Panama, through the jungle, on various steamers catch-as-catch can, and muleback or train, having the specie to do so. I rather envy him his monkeys and senoritas, but I know some time at sea - they estimate not much above 100 days - will put me back in health. This time of year is springtime in the Antipodes, so our voyage should not be perilous, but swift. Perhaps we may see some icebergs, I am told. And the winds are prevailing in our fortunate direction.
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