Days slipped into weeks,
weeks into months, and no passport came. He was out of clothes, out of
money, out of food. A draft on his English friends kept him from
destitution. Just a year before, Billings, the astronomer of Cook's
vessel, had gone across Siberia on the way to America for the Russian
government. If Ledyard could only catch up to Billings's expedition,
that might be a chance to cross the Pacific. As if to exasperate his
impatience still more, he met a Scotch physician, a Dr. William Brown,
now setting out for Siberia on imperial business, who offered to carry
him along free for three thousand of the seven thousand miles to the
Pacific. Perhaps the proceeds of that English draft helped him with
the slow Russian authorities, but at last, on June 1, he had his
passport, and was off with Dr. Brown. His entire earthly possessions
at this time consisted of a few guineas, a suit of {259} clothes, and
large debts. What was the crack-brained enthusiast aiming at anyway?
An empire half the present size of the United States.
From St. Petersburg to Moscow in six days, drawn by three horses at
breakneck pace, from Moscow to Kazan through the endless forests, on to
the Volga, Brown and Ledyard hastened.
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