Wau-bun, the Early Day in the Northwest - Chapters 1-6



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CHAPTER I.
DEPARTURE FROM DETROIT.

It was on a dark, rainy evening in the month of September, 1830, that we
went on board the steamer "Henry Clay," to take passage for Green Bay. All
our friends in Detroit had congratulated us upon our good fortune in being
spared the voyage in one of the little schooners which at this time
afforded the ordinary means of communication with the few and distant
settlements on Lakes Huron and Michigan.

Each one had some experience to relate of his own or of his friends'
mischances in these precarious journeys--long detentions on the St. Clair
flats--furious head-winds off Thunder Bay, or interminable calms at
Mackinac or the Manitous. That which most enhanced our sense of peculiar
good luck, was the true story of one of our relatives having left Detroit
in the month of June and reached Chicago in the September following,
having been actually three months in performing what is sometimes
accomplished by even a sail-vessel in four days.

But the certainty of encountering similar misadventures

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would have weighed little with me. I was now to visit, nay, more, to
become a resident of that land which had, for long years, been to me a
region of romance. Since the time when, as a child, my highest delight had
been in the letters of a dear relative, describing to me his home and mode
of life in the "Indian country," and still later, in his felicitous
narration of a tour with General Cass, in 1820, to the sources of the
Mississippi--nay, even earlier, in the days when I stood at my teacher's
knee, and spelled out the long word Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac, that distant
land, with its vast lakes, its boundless prairies, and its mighty forests,
had possessed a wonderful charm for my imagination. Now I was to see it!--
it was to be my home!

Our ride to the quay, through the dark by-ways, in a cart, the only
vehicle which at that day could navigate the muddy, unpaved streets of
Detroit, was a theme for much merriment, and not less so, our descent of
the narrow, perpendicular stair-way by which we reached the little
apartment called the Ladies' Cabin. We were highly delighted with the
accommodations, which, by comparison, seemed the very climax of comfort
and convenience; more especially as the occupants of the cabin consisted,
beside myself, of but a lady and two little girls.

Nothing could exceed the pleasantness of our trip for the first twenty-
four hours. There were some officers, old friends, among the passengers.
We had plenty of books. The gentlemen read aloud occasionally, admired the
solitary magnificence of the scenery around us, the primeval woods, or the
vast expanse of water unenlivened by a single sail, and then betook
themselves to their cigar, or their game of euchre, to while away the
hours.

For a time the passage over Thunder Bay was delightful, but, alas! it was
not destined, in our favor, to belie its name. A storm came on, fast and
furious--what was

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worse, it was of long duration. The pitching and rolling of the little
boat, the closeness, and even the sea-sickness, we bore as became us. They
were what we had expected, and were prepared for. But a new feature of
discomfort appeared, which almost upset our philosophy.

The rain, which fell in torrents, soon made its way through every seam and
pore of deck or moulding. Down the stair-way, through the joints and
crevices, it came, saturating first the carpet, then the bedding, until,
finally, we were completely driven, "by stress of weather," into the
Gentlemen's Cabin. Way was made for us very gallantly, and every provision
resorted to for our comfort, and we were congratulating ourselves on
having found a haven in our distress, when, lo! the seams above opened,
and down upon our devoted heads poured such a flood, that even umbrellas
were an insufficient protection. There was nothing left for the ladies and
children but to betake ourselves to the berths, which, in this apartment,
fortunately remained dry; and here we continued ensconced the livelong
day. Our dinner was served up to us on our pillows. The gentlemen chose
the dryest spots, raised their umbrellas, and sat under them, telling
amusing anecdotes, and saying funny things to cheer us, until the rain
ceased, and at nine o'clock in the evening we were gladdened by the
intelligence that we had reached the pier at Mackinac.

We were received with the most affectionate cordiality by Mr. and Mrs.
Robert Stuart, at whose hospitable mansion we had been for some days
expected.

The repose and comfort of an asylum like this, can be best appreciated by
those who have reached it after a tossing and drenching such as ours had
been. A bright, warm fire, and countenances beaming with kindest interest,
dispelled all sensations of fatigue or annoyance.

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After a season of pleasant conversation, the servants were assembled, the
chapter of God's word was solemnly read, the hymn chanted, the prayer of
praise and thanks-giving offered, and we were conducted to our place of
repose.

It is not my purpose here to attempt a portrait of those noble friends
whom I thus met for the first time. To an abler pen than mine should be
assigned the honor of writing the biography of Robert Stuart. All who have
enjoyed the happiness of his acquaintance, or, still more, a sojourn under
his hospitable roof, will carry with them to their latest hour the
impression of his noble bearing, his genial humor, his untiring
benevolence, his upright, uncompromising adherence to principle, his
ardent philanthropy, his noble disinterestedness. Irving in his "Astoria,"
and Franchere in his "Narrative," give many striking traits of his early
character, together with events of his history of a thrilling and romantic
interest, but both have left the most valuable portion unsaid, his after-
life, namely, as a Christian gentleman.

Of his beloved partner, who still survives him, mourning on her bereaved
and solitary pilgrimage, yet cheered by the recollection of her long and
useful course as a "Mother in Israel," we will say no more than to offer
the incense of loving hearts, and prayers for the best blessings from her
Father in heaven.



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CHAPTER II.
MICHILIMACKINAC.

Michilimackinac! that gem of the Lakes! How bright and beautiful it looked
as we walked abroad on the following morning! The rain had passed away,
but had left all things glittering in the light of the sun as it rose up
over the waters of Lake Huron, far away to the east. Before us was the
lovely bay, scarcely yet tranquil after the storm, but dotted with canoes
and the boats of the fishermen already getting out their nets for the
trout and whitefish, those treasures of the deep. Along the beach were
scattered the wigwams or lodges of the Ottawas who had come to the island
to trade. The inmates came forth to gaze upon us. A shout of welcome was
sent forth, as they recognized Shaw-nee-aw-kee, who, from a seven years'
residence among them, was well known to each individual.

A shake of the hand, and an emphatic "Bon-jour--bon-jour," is the
customary salutation between the Indian and the white man.

"Do the Indians speak French?" I inquired of my husband.

"No; this is a fashion they have learned of the French traders during many
years of intercourse."

Not less hearty was the greeting of each Canadian engage, as he trotted
forward to pay his respects to "Monsieur John," and to utter a long string
of felicitations, in a most incomprehensible patois. I was forced to take
for granted all the good wishes showered upon "Madame

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John," of which I could comprehend nothing but the hope that I should be
happy and contented in my "vie sauvage."

The object of our early walk was to visit the Mission-house and school
which had been some few years previously established at this place by the
Presbyterian Board of Missions. It was an object of especial interest to
Mr. and Mrs. Stuart, and its flourishing condition at this period, and the
prospects of extensive future usefulness it held out, might well gladden
their philanthropic hearts. They had lived many years on the island, and
had witnessed its transformation, through God's blessing on Christian
efforts, from a worldly, dissipated community to one of which it might
almost be said, "Religion was every man's business." This mission
establishment was the beloved child and the common centre of interest of
the few Protestant families clustered around it. Through the zeal and good
management of Mr. and Mrs. Ferry, and the fostering encouragement of the
congregation, the school was in great repute, and it was pleasant to
observe the effect of mental and religious culture in subduing the
mischievous, tricky propensities of the half-breed, and rousing the stolid
apathy of the genuine Indian.

These were the palmy days of Mackinac. As the headquarters of the American
Fur Company, and the entrepot of the whole Northwest, all the trade in
supplies and goods on the one hand, and in furs and products of the Indian
country on the other, was in the hands of the parent establishment or its
numerous outposts scattered along Lakes Superior and Michigan, the
Mississippi, or through still more distant regions.

Probably few are ignorant of the fact, that all the Indian tribes, with
the exception of the Miamis and the Wyandots, had, since the transfer of
the old French possessions to the British Crown, maintained a firm alliance

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with the latter. The independence achieved by the United States did not
alter the policy of the natives, nor did our Government succeed in winning
or purchasing their friendship. Great Britain, it is true, bid high to
retain them. Every year the leading men of the Chippewas, Ottawas,
Pottowattamies, Menomonees, Winnebagoes, Sauks, and Foxes, and even still
more remote tribes, journeyed from their distant homes to Fort Malden in
Upper Canada, to receive their annual amount of presents from their Great
Father across the water. It was a master-policy thus to keep them in pay,
and had enabled those who practised it to do fearful execution through the
aid of such allies in the last war between the two countries.

The presents they thus received were of considerable value, consisting of
blankets, broadcloths or strouding, calicoes, guns, kettles, traps, silver-
works (comprising armbands, bracelets, brooches, and ear-bobs), looking-
glasses, combs, and various other trinkets distributed with no niggardly
hand.

The magazines and store-houses of the Fur Company at Mackinac were the
resort of all the upper tribes for the sale of their commodities, and the
purchase of all such articles as they had need of, including those above
enumerated, and also ammunition, which, as well as money and liquor, their
British friends very commendably omitted to furnish them.

Besides their furs, various in kind and often of great value--beaver,
otter, marten, mink, silver-gray and red fox, wolf, bear, and wild-cat,
musk-rat, and smoked deerskins--the Indians brought for trade maple-sugar
in abundance, considerable quantities of both Indian corn and petit-ble,*
beans and folles avoines,† or wild rice;* Corn which has been parboiled,
shelled from the cob, and dried in the sun.† Literally, crazy oats. It is
the French name for the Menomonees.

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while the squaws added to their quota of merchandise a contribution in the
form of moccasins, hunting-pouches, mococks, or little boxes of birch-bark
embroidered with porcupine - quills and filled with maple-sugar, mats of a
neat and durable fabric, and toy-models of Indian cradles, snow-shoes,
canoes, etc., etc.

It was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred or more canoes
of Indians at once approaching the island, laden with their articles of
traffic; and if to these we add the squadrons of large Mackinac boats
constantly arriving from the outposts, with the furs, peltries, and
buffalo-robes collected by the distant traders, some idea may be formed of
the extensive operations and important position of the American Fur
Company, as well as of the vast circle of human beings either immediately
or remotely connected with it.

It is no wonder that the philanthropic mind, surveying these races of
uncultivated heathen, should stretch forward to the time when, through an
unwearied devotion of the white man's energies, and an untiring sacrifice
of self and fortune, his red brethren might rise in the scale of social
civilization--when Education and Christianity should go hand in hand, to
make "the wilderness blossom as the rose."

Little did the noble souls at that day rejoicing in the success of their
labors at Mackinac, anticipate that in less than a quarter of a century
there would remain of all these numerous tribes but a few scattered bands,
squalid, degraded, with scarce a vestige remaining of their former lofty
character--their lands cajoled or wrested from them, the graves of their
fathers turned up by the ploughshare--themselves chased farther and
farther towards the setting sun, until they were literally grudged a
resting-place on the face of the earth!

Our visit to the Mission-school was of short duration,

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for the Henry Clay was to leave at two o'clock, and in the mean time we
were to see what we could of the village and its environs, and after that
dine with Mr. Mitchell, an old friend of my husband. As we walked
leisurely along over the white, gravelly road, many of the residences of
the old inhabitants were pointed out to me. There was the dwelling of
Madame Laframboise, an Ottawa woman, whose husband had taught her to read
and write, and who had ever after continued to use the knowledge she had
acquired for the instruction and improvement of the youth among her own
people. It was her custom to receive a class of young pupils daily at her
house, that she might give them lessons in the branches mentioned, and
also in the principles of the Roman Catholic religion, to which she was
deeply devoted. She was a woman of a vast deal of energy and enterprise--
of a tall and commanding figure, and most dignified deportment. After the
death of her husband, who was killed while away at his trading-post by a
Winnebago named White Ox, she was accustomed to visit herself the trading-
posts, superintend the clerks and engages, and satisfy herself that the
business was carried on in a regular and profitable manner.

The Agency-house, with its unusual luxuries of piazza and gardens, was
situated at the foot of the hill on which the fort was built. It was a
lovely spot, notwithstanding the stunted and dwarfish appearance of all
cultivated vegetation in this cold northern latitude.

The collection of rickety, primitive-looking buildings, occupied by the
officials of the Fur Company, reflected no great credit on the
architectural skill of my husband, who had superintended their
construction, he told me, when little more than a boy.

There were, besides these, the residences of the Dousmans, the Abbotts,
the Biddles, the Drews, and the

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Lashleys, stretching away along the base of the beautiful hill, crowned
with the white walls and buildings of the fort, the ascent to which was so
steep that on the precipitous face nearest the beach staircases were built
by which to mount from below.

My head ached intensely, the effect of the motion of the boat on the
previous day, but I did not like to give up to it; so, after I had been
shown all that could be seen of the little settlement in the short time
allowed us, we repaired to Mr. Mitchell's.

We were received by Mrs. M., an extremely pretty, delicate woman, part
French and part Sioux, whose early life had been passed at Prairie du
Chien, on the Mississippi. She had been a great belle among the young
officers at Fort Crawford; so much so, indeed, that the suicide of the
post-surgeon was attributed to an unsuccessful attachment he had conceived
for her. I was greatly struck with her soft and gentle manners, and the
musical intonation of her voice, which I soon learned was a distinguishing
peculiarity of those women in whom are united the French and native blood.

A lady, then upon a visit to the Mission, was of the company. She insisted
on my lying down upon the sofa, and ministered most kindly to my suffering
head. As she sat by my side, and expatiated upon the new sphere opening
before me, she inquired:

"Do you not realize very strongly the entire deprivation of religious
privileges you will be obliged to suffer in your distant home?"

"The deprivation," said I, "will doubtless be great, but not entire; for I
shall have my Prayer-Book, and, though destitute of a church, we need not
be without a mode of worship."

How often afterwards, when cheered by the consolations

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of that precious book in the midst of the lonely wilderness, did I
remember this conversation, and bless God that I could never, while
retaining it, be without "religious privileges."

We had not yet left the dinner-table, when the bell of the little steamer
sounded to summon us on board, and we bade a hurried farewell to all our
kind friends, bearing with us their hearty wishes for a safe and
prosperous voyage.

A finer sight can scarcely be imagined than Mackinac, from the water. As
we steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us--the sloping
beach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here and there--the
irregular, quaint-looking houses--the white walls of the fort, and,
beyond, one eminence still more lofty crowned with the remains of old Fort
Holmes. The whole picture completed, showed the perfect outline that had
given the island its original Indian name, Mich-i-li-mack-i-nack, the Big
Turtle.

Then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seen
gliding and darting to and fro; whose clearness is such that an object
dropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixty
feet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger than a
half dime! I could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who exclaimed:
"Oh! I could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful waters!"

As we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband pointed
out to me, far away to the northwest, a promontory which he told me was
Point St. Ignace. It possessed great historic interest, as one of the
earliest white settlements on this continent. The Jesuit missionaries had
established here a church and school as early as 1607, the same year in
which a white settlement was

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made at St. Augustine, in Florida, and one year before the founding of
Jamestown, Virginia.

All that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is the
remembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only by the
names of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love in behalf of
their savage brethren. The little French church at Sandwich, opposite
Detroit, alone is left, a witness of the zeal and self-sacrifice of these
pioneers of Christianity.

Passing "Old Mackinac," on the main land, which forms the southern border
of the straits, we soon came out into the broad waters of Lake Michigan.
Every traveller, and every reader of our history, is familiar with the
incidents connected with the taking of the old fort by the Indians, in the
days of Pontiac. How, by means of a game of ball, played in an apparently
friendly spirit outside the walls, and of which the officers and soldiers
had come forth to be spectators, the ball was dexterously tossed over the
wall, and the savages rushing in, under pretext of finding it, soon got
possession and massacred the garrison.

The little Indian village of L'Arbre Croche gleamed far away south, in the
light of the setting sun. With that exception, there was no sign of living
habitation along that vast and wooded shore. The gigantic forest-trees,
and here and there the little glades of prairie opening to the water,
showed a landscape that would have gladdened the eye of the agriculturist,
with its promise of fertility; but it was evidently untrodden by the foot
of man, and we left it, in its solitude, as we took our course westward
across the waters.

The rainy and gusty weather, so incident to the equinoctial season,
overtook us again before we reached the mouth of Green Bay, and kept us
company until the night of our arrival upon the flats, about three miles
below the

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settlement. Here the little steamer grounded "fast and hard." As almost
every one preferred braving the elements to remaining cooped up in the
quarters we had occupied for the past week, we decided to trust ourselves
to the little boat, spite of wind, and rain, and darkness, and in due time
we reached the shore.



CHAPTER III.
GREEN BAY.

Our arrival at Green Bay was at an unfortunate moment. It was the time of
a treaty between the United States Government and the Menomonees and Wau-
ba-na-kees. Consequently, not only the commissioners of the treaty, with
their clerks and officials, but traders, claimants, travellers, and idlers
innumerable were upon the ground. Most of these were congregated in the
only hotel the place afforded. This was a tolerably-sized house near the
river-side, and as we entered the long dining-room, cold and dripping from
the open boat, we were infinitely amused at the motley assemblage it
contained. Various groups were seated around. New-comers, like ourselves,
stood here and there, for there were not seats enough to accommodate all
who sought entertainment. The landlord sat calm and indifferent, his hands
in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of a Pennsylvania Dutchman.

His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold about
some one who, "burn his skin!" had fallen short in his duty; now laughing
good-humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism addressed to her.

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She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, "Can you accommodate
us?" her reply was, "Not I. I have got twice as many people now as I know
what to do with. I have had to turn my own family out of their quarters,
what with the commissioners and the lot of folks that has come in upon us."

"What are we to do, then? It is too late and stormy to go up to Shanty-
town to seek for lodgings."

"Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we can do."

And she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we were glad
to take refuge from the multitudes around us.

A slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied by
General Root, of New York, one of the commissioners of the treaty. The
steamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rare blessing
to the distant settlements. The opening and reading of all the dispatches,
which the General received about bed-time, had, of course, to be gone
through with, before he could retire to rest. His eyes being weak, his
secretaries were employed to read the communications. He was a little deaf
withal, and through the slight division between the two apartments the
contents of the letters, and his comments upon them, were unpleasantly
audible, as he continually admonished his secretary to raise his voice.

"What is that, Walter? Read that over again."

In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces of
furniture. They were too deeply interested to hear aught that passed
around them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all the
secrets of the working-men's party at our disposal, out of which to have
made capital.

The next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but

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rain! In spite of it, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to
row to the steamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part
of that which appertained to us being sundry boxes of silver for paying
the annuities to the Winnebagoes at the Portage.

I went out with some others of the company upon the piazza, to witness
their departure. A gentleman pointed out to me Fort Howard, on a
projecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a mile
distant--the old barracks, the picketed inclosure, the walls, all looking
quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancient and
venerable. Presently we turned our attention to the boat, which had by
this time gained the middle of the river. One of the passengers was
standing up in the stern, apparently giving some directions.

"That is rather a venturesome fellow," remarked one; "if he is not careful
he will lose his balance." And at this moment we saw him actually perform
a summerset backward, and disappear in the water.

"Oh!" cried I, "he will be drowned!"

The gentlemen laughed. "No, there he is; they are helping him in again."

The course of the boat was immediately changed, and the party returned to
the shore. It was not until one disembarked and came dripping and laughing
towards me, that I recognized him as my own peculiar property. He was
pleased to treat the matter as a joke, but I thought it rather a sad
beginning of Western experience.

He suffered himself to be persuaded to intrust the care of his effects to
his friends, and having changed his dress, prepared to remain quietly with
me, when just at this moment a vehicle drove up to the door, and we
recognized the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend, Judge Doty.

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He had received the news of our arrival, and had come to take us at once
to his hospitable mansion. We were only too happy to gather together our
bags and travelling-baskets and accompany him without farther ceremony.

Our drive took us first along the edge of Navarino, next through Shanty-
town (the latter a far more appropriate name than the former), amid mud
and mire, over bad roads, and up and down hilly, break-neck places, until
we reached the little brick dwelling of our friends. Mrs. Doty received us
with such true, sisterly kindness, and everything seemed so full of
welcome, that we soon felt ourselves at home.

We found that, expecting our arrival, invitations had already been
prepared to assemble the whole circle of Green Bay society to meet us at
an evening party--this, in a new country, being the established mode of
doing honor to guests or strangers.

We learned, upon inquiry, that Captain Harney, who had kindly offered to
come with a boat and crew of soldiers from Fort Winnebago, to convey us to
that place, our destined home, had not yet arrived; we therefore felt at
liberty to make arrangements for a few days of social enjoyment at "the
Bay."

It was pleasant to people, secluded in such a degree from the world at
large, to hear all the news we had brought--all the particulars of life
and manners--the thousand little items that the newspapers of that day did
not dream of furnishing--the fashions, and that general gossip, in short,
which a lady is erroneously supposed more au fait of, than a gentleman.

I well remember that, in giving and receiving information, the day passed
in a pretty uninterrupted stream of communication. All the party except
myself had made the journey, or rather voyage, up the Fox River and down
the Wisconsin to the Mississippi.

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There were plenty of anecdotes of a certain trip performed by the three,
in company with a French trader and his two sisters, then making their
debut as Western travellers. The manner in which Mademoiselle Julie would
borrow, without leave, a fine damask napkin or two, to wipe out the ducks
in preparation for cooking--the difficulty of persuading either of the
sisters of the propriety of washing and rinsing their table apparatus
nicely before packing it away in the mess-basket, the consequence of which
was, that another nice napkin must be stealthily whisked out, to wipe the
dishes when the hour for meals arrived--the fun of the young gentleman in
hunting up his stray articles, thus misappropriated, from the nooks and
corners of the boat, tying them with a cord, and hanging them over the
stern, to make their way down the Wisconsin to Prairie du Chien.

Then there was a capital story of M. Rolette himself. At one point on the
route (I think in crossing Winnebago Lake) the travellers met one of the
Company's boats on its way to Green Bay for supplies. M Rolette was one of
the agents of the Company, and the people in the boat were his employes.
Of course after an absence of some weeks from home, the meeting on these
lonely waters and the exchanging of news was an occasion of great
excitement.

The boats were stopped--earnest greetings interchanged--question followed
question.

"Eh bien--have they finished the new house?"

"Oui, Monsieur."

"Et la cheminee, fume-t-elle?" (Does the chimney smoke?)

"Non, Monsieur."

"And the harvest--how is that?"

"Very fine, indeed."

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"Is the mill at work?"

"Yes, plenty of water."

"How is Whip?" (his favorite horse.)

"Oh! Whip is first-rate."

Everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the business of various
descriptions being satisfactorily gone over, there was no occasion for
farther delay. It was time to proceed.

"Eh bien--adieu! bon voyage!"

"Arrachez, mes gens!" (Go ahead, men!)

Then suddenly--"Arretez! arretez!" (Stop, stop!)

"Comment se portent Madame Rolette et les enfans?" (How are Mrs. Rolette
and the children?)

This day, with its excitement, was at length over, and we retired to our
rest, thankful that we had not General Root and his secretary close to our
bed's head, with their budget of political news.

My slumbers were not destined, however, to be quite undisturbed. I was
awakened, at the first slight peep of dawn, by a sound from an apartment
beneath our own--a plaintive, monotonous chant, rising and then falling in
a sort of mournful cadence. It seemed to me a wail of something unearthly--
so wild--so strange--so unaccountable. In terror I awoke my husband, who
reassured me by telling me it was the morning salutation of the Indians to
the opening day.

Some Menomonees had been kindly given shelter for the night in the kitchen
below, and, having fulfilled their unvarying custom of chanting their
morning hymn, they now ceased, and again composed themselves to sleep. But
not so their auditor. There was to me something inexpressibly

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beautiful in this morning song of praise from the untaught sons of the
forest. What a lesson did it preach to the civilized, Christianized world,
too many of whom lie down and rise up without an aspiration of
thanksgiving to their Almighty Preserver--without even a remembrance of
His care, who gives His angels charge concerning them! Never has the
impression of that simple act of worship faded from my mind. I have loved
to think that, with some, these strains might be the outpouring of a
devotion as pure as that of the Christian when he utters the inspiring
words of the sainted Ken--

"Awake, my soul! and with the sun," etc.

Among the visitors who called to offer me a welcome to the West, were Mr.
and Miss Cadle, who were earnestly engaged in the first steps of their
afterwards flourishing enterprise for the education of Indian and half-
breed children. The school-houses and chapel were not yet erected, but we
visited their proposed site, and listened with great interest to bright
anticipations of the future good that was to be accomplished--the success
that was to crown their efforts for taming the heathen and teaching them
the knowledge of their Saviour and the blessings of civilized life. The
sequel has shown how little the zeal of the few can accomplish, when
opposed to the cupidity of the many.

Our evening party went off as parties do elsewhere. The most interesting
feature to me, because the most novel, was the conversation of some young
ladies to whom I was introduced, natives of Green Bay or its vicinity.
Their mother was a Menomonee, but their

Page 34

father was a Frenchman, a descendant of a settler some generations back,
and who, there is reason to believe, was a branch of the same family of
Grignon to which the daughter of Madame de Sevigne belonged. At least, it
is said there are in the possession of the family many old papers and
records which would give that impression, although the orthography of the
name has become slightly changed. Be that as it may, the Miss Grignons
were strikingly dignified, well-bred young ladies, and there was a charm
about their soft voices, and original, unsophisticated remarks, very
attractive to a stranger.

They opened to me, however, a new field of apprehension; for, on my
expressing my great impatience to see my new home, they exclaimed, with a
look of wonder,--

"Vous n'avez donc pas peur des serpens?"

"Snakes! was it possible there were snakes at Fort Winnebago?"

"At the Portage! oh! yes--one can never walk out for them--rattle-snakes--
copper-heads--all sorts!"

I am not naturally timid, but I must confess that the idea of the serpens
sonnettes and the siffleurs was not quite a subject of indifference.

There was one among these young ladies whose tall, graceful figure, rich,
blooming complexion, and dark, glancing eye, would have distinguished her
in any drawing-room--and another, whose gentle sweetness and cultivated
taste made it a matter of universal regret that she was afterwards led to
adopt the seclusion of a convent.

Captain Harney and his boat arrived in due time, and active preparations
for the comfort of our journey commenced under the kind supervision of
Mrs. Doty. The mess-basket was stowed with good things of every
description--ham and tongue--biscuit and plum-cake--not to mention the
substantials of crackers, bread, and boiled

Page 35

pork, the latter of which, however, a lady was supposed to be too
fastidious to think of touching, even if starving in the woods.

We had engaged three Canadian voyageurs to take charge of our tent, mess-
basket, and matters and things in general. Their business it was to be to
cut the wood for our fires, prepare our meals, and give a helping hand to
whatever was going forward. A messenger had also been sent to the Kakalin,
or rapids, twenty-one miles above, to notify Wish-tay-yun,(*) the most
accomplished guide through the difficult passes of the river, to be in
readiness for our service on a specified day.

In the mean time, we had leisure for one more party, and it was to be a
"real Western hop." Everybody will remember that dance at Mrs. Baird's.
All the people, young and old, that would be gathered throughout, or, as
it was the fashion to express it, on Green Bay, were assembled. The young
officers were up from Fort Howard, looking so smart in their uniforms--
treasures of finery, long uncalled forth, were now brought to light--
everybody was bound to do honor to the strangers by appearing in their
very best. It was to be an entertainment unequalled by any given before.
All the house was put in requisition for the occasion. Desks and seats
were unceremoniously dismissed from Mr. B.'s office, which formed one
wing, to afford more space for the dancers. Not only the front portion of
the dwelling, but even the kitchen was made fit for the reception of
company, in case any primitive visitor, as was sometimes the case, should
prefer sitting down quietly there and smoking his cigar. This was an
emergency that, in those days, had always to be provided for.

(* Le Forgeron, or Blacksmith, a Menomonee chief.)

Page 36

Nothing could exceed the mirth and hilarity of the company. No restraint,
but of good manners--no excess of conventionalities--genuine, hearty good-
humor and enjoyment, such as pleasant, hospitable people, with just enough
of the French element to add zest to anything like amusement, could
furnish, to make the entertainment agreeable. In a country so new, and
where, in a social gathering, the number of the company was more important
than the quality, the circle was not always, strictly speaking, select.

I was aware of this, and was therefore more amused than surprised when a
clumsy little man, with a broad, red, laughing face, waddled across the
room to where I had taken my seat after a dance, and thus addressed me:

"Miss K--, nobody hain't never introduced you to me, but I've seen you a
good many times, and I know your husband very well, so I thought I might
just as well come and speak to you--my name is A--."

"Ah! Mr. A--, good-evening. I hope you are enjoying yourself. How is your
sister?"

"Oh! she is a great deal worse--her cold has got into her eye, and it is
all shot up."

Then turning full upon a lady(*) who sat near, radiant with youth and
beauty, sparkling with wit and genuine humor:

"Oh! Mrs. Beall," he began, "what a beautiful gown you have got on, and
how handsome you do look! I declare you're the prettiest woman in the
room, and dance the handsomest."

"Indeed, Mr. A--," replied she, suppressing her love of fun and assuming a
demure look, "I am afraid you flatter me."

(* A niece of James Fenimore Cooper.)

Page 37

"No, I don't--I'm in earnest. I've just come to ask you to dance."

Such was the penalty of being too charming.



CHAPTER IV.
VOYAGE UP FOX RIVER.

It had been arranged that Judge Doty should accompany us in our boat as
far as the Butte des Morts, at which place his attendant would be waiting
with horses to convey him to Mineral Point, where he was to hold court.

It was a bright and beautiful morning when we left his pleasant home, to
commence our passage up the Fox River. Captain Harney was proposing to
remain a few days longer at "the Bay," but he called to escort us to the
boat and instal us in all its comforts.

As he helped me along over the ploughed ground and other inequalities in
our way to the river-bank, where the boat lay, he told me how impatiently
Mrs. Twiggs, the wife of the commanding officer, who since the past spring
had been the only white lady at Fort Winnebago, was now expecting a
companion and friend. We had met in New York, shortly after her marriage,
and were, therefore, not quite unacquainted. I, for my part, felt sure
that when there were two of our sex--when my piano was safely there--when
the Post Library which we had purchased should be unpacked--when all
should be fairly arranged and settled, we should be, although far away in
the wilderness, the happiest little circle imaginable. All

Page 38

my anticipations were of the most sanguine and cheerful character.

It was a moderate-sized Mackinac boat, with a crew of soldiers, and our
own three voyageurs in addition, that lay waiting for us--a dark-looking
structure of some thirty feet in length. Placed in the centre was a
framework of slight posts, supporting a roof of canvas, with curtains of
the same, which might be let down at the sides and ends, after the manner
of a country stage-coach, or rolled up to admit the light and air.

In the midst of this little cabin or saloon was placed the box containing
my piano, and on it a mattress, which was to furnish us a divan through
the day and a place of repose at night, should the weather at any time
prove too wet or unpleasant for encamping. The boxes of silver, with which
my husband was to pay the annuities due his red children, by treaty
stipulation, were stowed next. Our mess-basket was in a convenient
vicinity, and we had purchased a couple of large square covered baskets of
the Waubanakees, or New York Indians, to hold our various necessary
articles of outward apparel and bedding, and at the same time to answer as
very convenient little work- or dinner-tables.

As a true daughter of New England, it is to be taken for granted I had not
forgotten to supply myself with knitting-work and embroidery. Books and
pencils were a matter of course.

The greater part of our furniture, together with the various articles for
housekeeping with which we had supplied ourselves in New York and Detroit,
were to follow in another boat, under the charge of people whose business
it professed to be to take cargoes safely up the rapids and on to Fort
Winnebago. This was an enterprise requiring some three weeks of time and a
great amount of labor, so

Page 39

that the owners of the goods transported might think themselves happy to
receive them at last, however wet, broken, and dilapidated their condition
might be. It was for this reason that we took our choicest possessions
with us, even at the risk of being a little crowded.

Until now I had never seen a gentleman attired in a colored shirt, a
spotless white collar and bosom being one of those "notions" that
"Boston," and consequently New England "folks," entertained of the
becoming in a gentleman's toilette. Mrs. Cass had laughingly forewarned me
that not only calico shirts but patch-work pillow-cases were an
indispensable part of a travelling equipment; and, thanks to the taste and
skill of some tidy little French-woman, I found our divan-pillows all
accommodated in the brightest and most variegated garb.

The Judge and my husband were gay with the deepest of blue and pink. Each
was prepared, besides, with a bright red cap (a bonnet rouge, or tuque, as
the voyageurs call it), which, out of respect for the lady, was to be
donned only when a hearty dinner, a dull book, or the want of exercise
made an afternoon nap indispensable.

The Judge was an admirable travelling companion. He had lived many years
in the country, had been with General Cass on his expedition to the head-
waters of the Mississippi, and had a vast fund of anecdote regarding early
times, customs, and inhabitants.

Some instances of the mode of administering justice in those days, I
happen to recall.

There was an old Frenchman at the Bay, named Reaume, excessively ignorant
and grasping, although otherwise tolerably good-natured. This man was
appointed justice of the peace. Two men once appeared before him, the one
as plaintiff, the other as defendant. The justice listened patiently to
the complaint of the one and the defence of

Page 40

the other; then rising, with dignity, he pronounced his decision:

"You are both wrong. You, Bois-vert," to the plaintiff, "you bring me one
load of hay; and you, Crely," to the defendant, "you bring me one load of
wood; and now the matter is settled." It does not appear that any
exceptions were taken to this verdict.

This anecdote led to another, the scene of which was Prairie du Chien, on
the Mississippi.

There was a Frenchman, a justice of the peace, who was universally known
by the name of "Old Boilvin." His office was just without the walls of the
fort, and it was much the fashion among the officers to lounge in there of
a morning, to find sport for an idle hour, and to take a glass of brandy-
and-water with the old gentleman, which he called "taking a little quelque-
chose."

A soldier, named Fry, had been accused of stealing and killing a calf
belonging to M. Rolette, and the constable, a bricklayer of the name of
Bell, had been dispatched to arrest the culprit and bring him to trial.

While the gentlemen were making their customary morning visit to the
justice, a noise was heard in the entry, and a knock at the door.

"Come in," cried Old Boilvin, rising and walking toward the door.

Bell.--Here, sir, I have brought Fry to you, as you ordered.

Justice.--Fry, you great rascal! What for you kill M. Rolette's calf?

Fry.--I did not kill M. Rolette's calf.

Justice (shaking his fist).--You lie, you great--rascal! Bell, take him to
jail. Come, gentlemen, come, let us take a leetle quelque-chose.

Page 41

The Canadian boatmen always sing while rowing or paddling, and nothing
encourages them so much as to hear the "bourgeois"(*) take the lead in the
music. If the passengers, more especially those of the fair sex, join in
the refrain, the compliment is all the greater.

Their songs are of a light, cheerful character, generally embodying some
little satire or witticism, calculated to produce a spirited, sometimes an
uproarious, chorus.

The song and refrain are carried on somewhat in the following style:

Bourgeois.--Par-derriere chez ma tante,
Par-derriere chez ma tante,

Chorus.--Par-derriere chez ma tante,
Par-derriere chez ma tante.

Bourgeois.--Il y a un coq qui chante,
Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux,
Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux.

Chorus.--Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux,
Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux.

Bourgeois.--Il y a un coq qui chante,
Il y a un coq qui chante,

Chorus.--Il y a un coq qui chante, etc.

Bourgeois.--Demande une femme a prendre,
Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, etc.

Chorus.--Des pommes, des poires, etc.

Bourgeois.--Demande une femme a prendre,
Demande une femme a, etc.

And thus it continues until the advice is given successively,

Ne prenez pas une noire,
Car elles aiment trop a boire,
Ne prenez pas une rousse,
Car elles sont trop jalouses.

(* Master--or, to use the emphatic Yankee term, boss.)

Page 42

And by the time all the different qualifications are rehearsed and
objected to, lengthened out by the interminable repetition of the chorus,
the shout of the bourgeois is heard--

"Whoop la! a terre, a terre--pour la pipe!"

It is an invariable custom for the voyageurs to stop every five or six
miles to rest and smoke, so that it was formerly the way of measuring
distances--"so many pipes," instead of "so many miles."

The Canadian melodies are sometimes very beautiful, and a more
exhilarating mode of travel can hardly be imagined than a voyage over
these waters, amid all the wild magnificence of nature, with the measured
strokes of the oar keeping time to the strains of "Le Rosier Blanc," "En
roulant ma Boule," or "Leve ton pied, ma jolie Bergere."

The climax of fun seemed to be in a comic piece, which, however oft
repeated, appeared never to grow stale. It was somewhat after this fashion:

Bourgeois.--Michaud est monte dans un prunier,
Pour treiller des prunes.
La branche a casse--

Chorus.--Michaud a tombe?

Bourgeois.--Ou est-ce qu'il est?

Chorus.--Il est en bas.

Bourgeois.--Oh! reveille, reveille, reveille,
Oh! reveille, Michaud est en haut!(*)

It was always a point of etiquette to look astonished at the luck of
Michaud in remaining in the tree, spite of the breaking of the branch, and
the joke had to be repeated

(* Michaud climbed into a plum-tree, to gather plums. The branch broke.
Michaud fell! Where is he? He is down on the ground. No, he is up in the
tree.)

Page 43

through all the varieties of fruit-trees that Michaud might be supposed
able to climb.

By evening of the first day we arrived at the Kakalin, where another
branch of the Grignon family resided. We were very pleasantly entertained,
although, in my anxiety to begin my forest life, I would fain have had the
tent pitched on the bank of the river, and have laid aside, at once, the
indulgences of civilization. This, however, would have been a slight,
perhaps an affront; so we did much better, and partook of the good cheer
that was offered us in the shape of hot venison steaks and crepes, and
that excellent cup of coffee which none can prepare like a Frenchwoman,
and which is so refreshing after a day in the open air.

The Kakalin is a rapid of the Fox River, sufficiently important to make
the portage of the heavy lading of a boat necessary; the boat itself being
poled or dragged up with cords against the current. It is one of a series
of rapids and chutes, or falls, which occur between this point and Lake
Winnebago, twenty miles above.

The next morning, after breakfast, we took leave of our hosts, and
prepared to pursue our journey. The bourgeois, from an early hour, had
been occupied in superintending his men in getting the boat and its
loading over the Kakalin. As the late rains had made the paths through the
woods and along the banks of the river somewhat muddy and uncomfortable
for walking, I was put into an ox-cart, to be jolted over the unequal
road; saluting impartially all the stumps and stones that lay in our way,
the only means of avoiding which seemed to be when the little, thick-
headed Frenchman, our conductor, bethought him of suddenly guiding his
cattle into a projecting tree or thornbush, to the great detriment not
only of my straw bonnet, but of my very eyes.

Page 44

But we got through at last, and, arriving at the head of the rapids, I
found the boat lying there, all in readiness for our re-embarking.

Our Menomonee guide, Wish-lay-yun, a fine, stalwart Indian, with an open,
good-humored, one might almost say roguish countenance, came forward to be
presented to me.

"Bon-jour, bon-jour, maman," was his laughing salutation. Again I was
surprised, not as before at the French, for to that I had become
accustomed, but at the respectable title he was pleased to bestow upon me.

"Yes," said my husband, "you must make up your mind to receive a very
numerous and well-grown family, consisting of all the Winnebagoes,
Pottowattamies, Chippewas, and Ottawas, together with such Sioux, Sacs and
Foxes, and Iowas, as have any point to gain in applying to me. By the
first-named tribe in virtue of my office, and by the others as a matter of
courtesy, I am always addressed as 'father'--you, of course, will be their
'mother.'"

Wish-tay-yun and I were soon good friends, my husband interpreting to me
the Chippewa language in which he spoke. We were impatient to be off, the
morning being already far advanced, and, all things being in readiness,
the word was given:

"Pousse au large, mes gens!" (Push out, my men).

At this moment a boat was seen leaving the opposite bank of the river and
making towards us. It contained white men, and they showed by signs that
they wished to detain us until they came up. They drew near, and we found
them to be Mr. Marsh, a missionary among the Wau-ba-na-kees, or the New
York Indians, lately brought into this country, and the Rev. Eleazar
Williams,(*) who

(* The supposed Dauphin of France.)

Page 45

was at that time living among his red brethren on the right bank of the
Fox River.

To persons so situated, even more emphatically than to those of the
settlements, the arrival of visitors from the "east countrie" was a
godsend indeed. We had to give all the news of various kinds that we had
brought--political, ecclesiastical, and social--as well as a tolerably
detailed account of what we proposed to do, or rather what we hoped to be
able to do, among our native children at the Portage.

I was obliged, for my part, to confess that, being almost entirely a
stranger to the Indian character and habits, I was going among them with
no settled plans of any kind--general good-will, and a hope of making them
my friends, being the only principles I could lay claim to at present. I
must leave it for time and a better acquaintance to show me in what way
the principle could be carried out for their greatest good.

Mr. Williams was a dark-complexioned, good-looking man. Having always
heard him spoken of, by his relations in Connecticut, as "our Indian
cousin," it never occurred to me to doubt his belonging to that race,
although I now think that if I had met him elsewhere I should have taken
him for a Spaniard or a Mexican. His complexion had decidedly more of the
olive than the copper hue, and his countenance was grave, almost
melancholy. He was very silent during this interview, asking few
questions, and offering no observations except in reply to some question
addressed to him.

It was a hard pull for the men up the rapids. Wishtay-yun, whose clear,
sonorous voice was the bugle of the party, shouted and whooped--each one
answered with a chorus, and a still more vigorous effort. By-and-by the
boat would become firmly set between two huge stones--

Page 46

"Whoop la! whoop! whoop!"

Another pull, and another, straining every nerve--in vain.

"She will not budge!"

"Men, overboard!" and instantly every rower is over the side and into the
water.

By pulling, pushing, and tugging, the boat is at length released from her
position, and the men walk along beside her, helping and guiding her,
until they reach a space of comparatively smooth water, when they again
take their seats and their oars.

It will be readily imagined that there were few songs this day, but very
frequent pipes, to refresh the poor fellows after such an arduous service.

It was altogether a new spectacle to me. In fact, I had hardly ever before
been called upon to witness severe bodily exertion, and my sympathies and
sensibilities were, for this reason, the more enlisted on the occasion. It
seemed a sufficient hardship to have to labor in this violent manner; but
to walk in cold water up to their waists, and then to sit down in their
soaking garments without going near a fire! Poor men! this was too much to
be borne! What, then, was my consternation to see my husband, who, shortly
after our noontide meal, had surprised me by making his appearance in a
pair of duck trowsers and light jacket, at the first cry of "Fast, again!"
spring over into the water with the men, and "bear a hand" throughout the
remainder of the long stretch!

When he returned on board, it was to take the oar of a poor, delicate-
looking boy, one of the company of soldiers, who from the first had
suffered with bleeding at the nose on every unusual exertion. I was not
surprised, on inquiring, to find that this lad was a recruit just entered
the service. He passed by the name of Gridley, but that was undoubtedly an
assumed name. He had the appearance

Page 47

of having been delicately nurtured, and had probably enlisted without at
all appreciating the hardships and discomforts of a soldier's life. This
is evident from the dissatisfaction he always continued to feel, until at
length he deserted from his post. This was some months subsequent to the
time of which I am writing. He was once retaken, and kept for a time in
confinement, but immediately on his release deserted again, and his
remains were found the following spring, not many miles from the fort. He
had died, either of cold or starvation. This is a sad interlude--we will
return to our boating.

With all our tugging and toiling, we had accomplished but thirteen miles
since leaving the Kakalin, and it was already late when we arrived in view
of the "Grande Chute" near which we were to encamp.

We had passed the "Little Chute" (the spot where the town of Appleton now
stands) without any further observation than that it required a vast deal
of extra exertion to buffet with the rushing stream and come off, as we
did, victorious.

The brilliant light of the setting sun was resting on the high wooded
banks through which broke the beautiful, foaming, dashing waters of the
Chute. The boat was speedily turned towards a little headland projecting
from the left bank, which had the advantage of a long strip of level
ground, sufficiently spacious to afford a good encamping ground. I jumped
ashore before the boat was fairly pulled up by the men, and with the
Judge's help made my way as rapidly as possible to a point lower down the
river, from which, he said, the best view of the Chute could be obtained.
I was anxious to make a sketch before the daylight quite faded away.

The left bank of the river was to the west, and over a

Page 48

portion less elevated than the rest the sun's parting rays fell upon the
boat, the men with their red caps and belts, and the two tents already
pitched. The smoke now beginning to ascend from the evening fires, the
high wooded bank beyond, up which the steep portage path could just be
discerned, and, more remote still, the long stretch of waterfall now
darkening in the shadow of the overhanging forests, formed a lovely
landscape, to which the pencil of an artist could alone do justice.

This was my first encampment, and I was quite enchanted with the novelty
of everything about me.

The fires had been made of small saplings and underbrush, hastily
collected, the mildness of the weather rendering anything beyond what
sufficed for the purposes of cooking and drying the men's clothes,
superfluous. The soldiers' tent was pitched at some distance from our own,
but not too far for us to hear distinctly their laughter and apparent
enjoyment after the fatigues of the day.

Under the careful superintendence of Corporal Kilgour, however, their
hilarity never passed the bounds of respectful propriety, and, by the time
we had eaten our suppers, cooked in the open air with the simple apparatus
of a tea-kettle and frying-pan, we were, one and all, ready to retire to
our rest.

The first sound that saluted our ears in the early dawn of the following
morning, was the far-reaching call of the bourgeois:

"How! how! how!" uttered at the very top of his voice.

All start at that summons, and the men are soon turning out of their
tents, or rousing from their slumbers beside the fire, and preparing for
the duties of the day.

The fire is replenished, the kettles set on to boil, the mess-baskets
opened, and a portion of their contents brought

Page 49

forth to be made ready for breakfast. One Frenchman spreads our mat within
the tent, whence the bedding has all been carefully removed and packed up
for stowing in the boat. The tin cups and plates are placed around on the
new-fashioned table-cloth. The heavy dews make it a little too damp for us
to breakfast in the open air; otherwise our preparations would be made
outside, upon the green grass. In an incredibly short time our smoking
coffee and broiled ham are placed before us, to which are added, from time
to time, slices of toast brought hot and fresh from the glowing coals.

There is, after all, no breakfast like a breakfast in the woods, with a
well-trained Frenchman for master of ceremonies.

It was a hard day's work to which the men now applied themselves, that of
dragging the heavy boat up the Chute. It had been thought safest to leave
the piano in its place on board, but the rest of the lading had to be
carried up the steep bank, and along its summit, a distance of some
hundreds of rods, to the smooth water beyond, where all the difficulties
of our navigation terminated.

The Judge kindly took charge of me while "the bourgeois" superintended
this important business, and with reading, sketching, and strolling about,
the morning glided away. Twelve o'clock came, and still the preparations
for starting were not yet completed.

In my rambles about to seek out some of the finest of the wild flowers for
a bouquet, before my husband's return, I came upon the camp-fire of the
soldiers. A tall, red-faced, light-haired young man in fatigue dress was
attending a kettle of soup, the savory steams of which were very
attractive.

Seeing that I was observing his occupation, he politely ladled out a tin-
cupful of the liquid and offered it to me.

Page 50

I declined it, saying we should have our dinner immediately.

"They left me here to get their dinner," said he, apparently not
displeased to have some one to talk to; "and I thought I might as well
make some soup. Down on the German Flats, where I come from, they always
like soup."

"Ah! you are from the German Flats--then your name must be Bellinger or
Weber."

"No, it isn't--it's Krissman."

"Well, Krissman, how do you like the service?"

"Very well. I was only recruited last summer. I used to ride horse on the
Canawl, and, as I can blow a horn first-rate, I expect I will soon be able
to play on a bugle, and then, when I get to be musician, you know, I shall
have extra pay."

I did not know it, but I expressed due pleasure at the information, and
wishing Krissman all manner of success in his dreams of ambition, or
rather, I should say, of avarice, for the hopes of "extra pay" evidently
preponderated over those of fame, I returned to my own quarters.

My husband, with his French tastes, was inclined to be somewhat
disappointed when I told him of this little incident, and my refusal of
Krissman's soup; but we were soon gratified by seeing his tall, awkward
form bearing a kettle of the composition, which he set down before the two
gentlemen, by whom, to his infinite satisfaction, it was pronounced
excellent.

Everything being at length in readiness, the tents were struck and carried
around the Portage, and my husband, the Judge, and I followed at our
leisure.

The woods were brilliant with wild flowers, although it was so late in the
season that the glory of the summer was well-nigh past. But the lupin, the
moss-pink, and the yellow wallflower, with all the varieties of the
helianthus,

Page 51

the aster, and the solidago, spread their gay charms around. The gentlemen
gathered clusters of the bittersweet (celastrus scandens) from the
overhanging boughs to make a wreath for my hat, as we trod the tangled
pathway, which, like that of Christabel, was

"Now in glimmer and now in gloom,"

through the alternations of open glade and shady thicket. Soon, like the
same lovely heroine,

"We reached the place--right glad we were,"

and, without further delay, we were again on board our little boat and
skimming over the now placid waters.



CHAPTER V.
WINNEBAGO LAKE--MISS FOUR-LEGS.

Our encampment this night was the most charming that can be imagined.
Owing to the heavy service the men had gone through in the earlier part of
the day, we took but a short stage for the afternoon, and, having pulled
some seven or eight miles to a spot a short distance below the "little
Butte," we drew in at a beautiful opening among the trees.

The soldiers now made a regular business of encamping, by cutting down a
large tree for their fire and applying themselves to the preparing of a
sufficient quantity of food for their next day's journey, a long stretch,
namely, of twenty-one miles across Winnebago Lake. Our Frenchmen did the
same. The fire caught in the light dry grass

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by which we were surrounded, and soon all was blaze and crackle.

Fortunately the wind was sufficient to take the flames all in one
direction, and, besides, there was not enough fuel to have made them a
subject of any alarm. We hopped upon the fallen logs, and dignified the
little circumscribed affair with the name of "a prairie on fire." The most
serious inconvenience was its having consumed all the dry grass, some
armfuls of which, spread under the bearskin in my tent, I had found, the
night before, a great improvement to my place of repose.

Our supper was truly delightful, at the pleasant sunset hour, under the
tall trees beside the waters that ran murmuring by; and when the bright,
broad moon arose, and shed her flood of light over the scene, so wild yet
so beautiful in its vast solitude, I felt that I might well be an object
of envy to the friends I had left behind.

But all things have an end, and so must at last my enthusiasm for the
beauties around me, and, albeit unwillingly, I closed my tent and took my
place within, so near the fall of canvas that I could raise it
occasionally and peep forth upon the night.

In time all was quiet. The men had become silent, and appeared to have
retired to rest, and we were just sinking to our slumbers, when a heavy
tread and presently a bluff voice were heard outside.

"Mr. Kinzie! Mr. Kinzie!"

"Who is there? What is it?"

"I'm Krissman; didn't you mean, sir, that the men should have any liquor
to-night?"

"Of course I did. Has not Kilgour given out your rations?"

"No: he says you did not say anything particular about it, and he was not
coming to ask you if you forgot

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it; but I thought I wouldn't be bashful--I'd just come and ask."

"That is right. Tell Kilgour I should like to have him serve out a ration
apiece."

"Thank you, sir," in a most cheerful tone; "I'll tell him."

Krissman was getting to be quite a character with us.

A row of a few miles, on the following morning, brought us to Four-Legs'
village,(*) at the entrance to Winnebago Lake, a picturesque cluster of
Indian huts, spread around on a pretty green glade, and shaded by fine
lofty trees.

We were now fairly in the Winnebago country, and I soon learned that the
odd-sounding name of the place was derived from the principal chief of the
nation, whose residence it was. The inhabitants were absent, having, in
all probability, departed to their wintering grounds. We here took leave
of our friend Wish-tay-yun, at the borders of whose country we had now
arrived.

"Bon-jour, Chon!" (John:) "bon-jour, maman." A hearty shake of the hand
completed his adieu, as we pushed off into the lake, and left him smoking
his kin-nee-kin-nick(**) and waiting until the spirit should move him to
take up his long Indian trot towards his home in the Menomonee country.

With him our sunshine seemed to have departed. The skies, hitherto so
bright and serene, became overcast, and, instead of the charming voyage we
had anticipated over the silver waters of the lake, we were obliged to
keep ourselves housed under our canvas shelter, only peeping out

(* The site of the town of Nee-nah.)

(** The bark of the red willow, scraped fine, which is preferred by the
Indians to tobacco.)

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now and then to catch a glimpse of the surrounding prospect through the
pouring rain.

It was what might have been expected on an autumnal day, but we were
unreasonable enough to find it tedious; so, to beguile the time and lessen
my disappointment, my husband related to me some incidents of his early
history, apropos to the subject of "Four-Legs."

While he was living at Prairie du Chien, in the employ of the American Fur
Company, the chiefs and other Indians from the Upper Mississippi used
frequently to come to the place to sell their furs and peltries, and to
purchase merchandise, ammunition, trinkets, etc.

As is usual with all who are not yet acclimated, he was seized with chills
and fever. One day, while suffering with an unusually severe access of the
latter, a chief of the Four-Legs family, a brother to the one before
mentioned, came in to the Company's warehouse to trade. There is no
ceremony or restraint among the Indians: so, hearing that Shaw-nee-aw-kee
was sick, Four -Legs instantly made his way to him, to offer his sympathy
and prescribe the proper remedies.

Every one who has suffered from ague and the intense fever that succeeds
it, knows how insupportable is the protracted conversation of an
inconsiderate person, and will readily believe that the longer Four-Legs
continued his pratings the higher mounted the fever of the patient, and
the more intolerable became the pain of head, back, and limbs.

At length the old man arrived at the climax of what he had to say. "It was
not good for a young man, suffering with sickness, and away from his
family, to be without a home and a wife. He had a nice daughter at home,
handsome and healthy, a capital nurse, the best hand in all the tribe at
trapping beaver and musk-rats. He was

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coming down again in the spring, and he would bring her with him, and Shaw-
nee-aw-kee should see that he had told no falsehood about her. Should he
go now, and bring his daughter the next time he came?"

Stunned with his importunate babble, and anxious only for rest and quiet,
poor Shaw-nee-aw-kee eagerly assented, and the chief took his departure.

So nearly had his disorder been aggravated to delirium, that the young man
forgot entirely, for a time, the interview and the proposal which had been
made him. But it was recalled to his memory some months after, when Four-
Legs made his appearance, bringing with him a squaw of mature age, and a
very Hecate for ugliness. She carried on her shoulders an immense pack of
furs, which, approaching with her awkward criss-cross gait, she threw at
his feet, thus marking, by an Indian custom, her sense of the relation
that existed between them.

The conversation with her father now flashed across his mind, and he began
to be sensible that he had got into a position that it would require some
skill to extricate himself from.

He bade one of the young clerks take up the pack and carry it into the
magazine where the furs were stored; then he coolly went on talking with
the chief about indifferent matters.

Miss Four-Legs sat awhile with a sulky, discontented air; at length she
broke out,--

"Humph! he seems to take no more notice of me than if I was nobody!"

He again turned to the clerk.--"Give her a calico shirt and half a dozen
bread-tickets."

This did not dissipate the gloom on her countenance. Finding that he must
commence the subject, the father says,--

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"Well, I have brought you my daughter, according to our agreement. How do
you like her?"

"Ah, yes--she is a very nice young woman, and would make a first-rate
wife, I have no doubt. But do you know a very strange thing has happened
since you were here? Our father, Governor Cass,(*) has sent for me to come
to Detroit, that he may send me among the Wyandottes and other nations to
learn their customs and manners. Now, if I go, as I shall be obliged to
do, I shall be absent two or three years,--perhaps four. What then? Why,
the people will say, Shaw-nee-aw-kee has married Four-Legs' daughter, and
then has hated her and run away from her, and so everybody will laugh at
her, and she will be ashamed. It will be better to take some good,
valuable presents, blankets, guns, etc., and to marry her to one of her
own people, who will always stay by her and take care of her."

The old man was shrewd enough to see that it was wisest to make the best
bargain he could. I have no doubt it cost a round sum to settle the matter
to the satisfaction of the injured damsel, though I have never been able
to ascertain how much. This I know, that the young gentleman took care not
to make his next bargain while in a fit of the ague. The lady up on the
Mississippi is called, in derision, by his name to this day.

About midway of the lake we passed Garlic Island--a lovely spot, deserving
of a more attractive name. It belonged, together with the village on the
opposite shore, to "Wild Cat," a fat, jolly, good-natured fellow, by no
means the formidable animal his name would imply.

He and his band were absent, like their neighbors of

(* General Cass was then Governor of Michigan, and Superintendent of the
Northwestern Indians.)

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Four-Legs' village, so there was nothing to vary the monotony of our sail.
It was too wet to sing, and the men, although wrapped in their overcoats,
looked like drowned chickens. They were obliged to ply their oars with
unusual vigor to keep themselves warm and comfortable, and thus probably
felt less than we, the dulness and listlessness of the cold, rainy,
October day.

Towards evening the sun shone forth. We had passed into the Fox River, and
were just entering that beautiful little expanse known as Butte des Morts
Lake, at the farther extremity of which we were to encamp for the night.

The water along its shores was green with the fields of wild rice, the
gathering of which, just at this season, is an important occupation of the
Indian women. They push their canoes into the thick masses of the rice,
bend it forward over the side with their paddles, and then beat the ripe
husks off the stalks into a cloth spread in the canoe. After this, it is
rubbed to separate the grain from the husk, and fanned in the open air. It
is then put in their cordage bags and packed away for winter use. The
grain is longer and more slender than the Carolina rice--it is of a
greenish-olive color, and, although it forms a pleasant article of food,
it is far from being particularly nutritive. The Indians are fond of it in
the form of soup, with the addition of birds or venison.



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CHAPTER VI.
BREAKFAST AT BETTY MORE'S.

The earth, the trees, and the shrubbery were all too much filled with the
heavy rain which had fallen to allow us to think of encamping, so we made
arrangements to bestow ourselves in our little saloon for the night. It
was rather a difficult matter to light a fire, but among the underbrush,
in a wild, undisturbed spot, there will always be found some fragments of
dried branches, and tufts of grass which the rain has not reached, and by
the assistance of the spunk, or light-wood, with which travellers always
go well provided, a comforting fire was at length blazing brightly.

After our chilling, tedious day, it was pleasant to gather round it, to
sit on the end of the blazing logs, and watch the Frenchmen preparing our
supper--the kettle nestling in a little nook of bright glowing coals--the
slices of ham browning and crisping on the forked sticks, or "broches,"
which the voyageurs dexterously cut, and set around the burning brands--
the savory messes of "pork and onions" hissing in the frying-pan, always a
tempting regale to the hungry Frenchmen. Truly, it needs a wet, chilly
journey, taken nearly fasting, as ours had been, to enable one to enjoy to
its full extent that social meal--a supper.

The bright sun, setting amid brilliant masses of clouds, such as are seen
only in our Western skies, gave promise of a fine day on the morrow, with
which comforting assurance we were glad to take our leave of him, and soon
after of each other.

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We had hardly roused up the following morning, in obedience to the call of
the bourgeois, when our eyes were greeted with the sight of an addition to
our company--a tall, stalwart, fine-looking young mitiff, or half-breed,
accompanied by two or three Indians. Vociferous and joyous were the
salutations of the latter to their "father" and their new "mother." They
were the first Winnebagoes I had seen, and they were decidedly not the
finest specimens of their tribe. The mitiff, a scion of the wide-spreading
tree of the Grignons, was the bearer of an invitation to us from Judge
Law, who, with one or two Green Bay friends, was encamped a few miles
above, to come and breakfast with him in his tent. We had not dreamed of
finding white neighbors here, but our vicinity could be no secret to them,
as long as there was an Indian in the neighborhood. So, delaying only for
the soldiers to finish their breakfast, we pushed on for the "Butte des
Morts," or, as Mrs. A. always persisted in calling it, Betty More's.

The white tent of the Judge gleamed in the morning sun as we approached
the little rising ground on which it stood. The river was filled with
canoes, paddled principally by squaws. Many Indians were to be seen on the
banks, all with their guns and hunting accoutrements, for the air was
filled in every direction with flocks of teal, which at this season are
most abundant and delicious. The immense fields of wild rice abounding
here and in the little lake below, make this vicinity their favorite place
of resort in the autumn months. The effect of this nourishing food is to
make the flesh of the birds so fat, so white, and so tender, that a
caution is always given to a young sports-man to fire only at such as fly
very low, for if shot high in the air they are bruised to pieces and
rendered unfit for eating by their fall to the ground.

We were hemmed in by a little fleet of canoes which

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surrounded us, the women chattering, laughing, and eagerly putting forward
their little wooden bowls of fresh cranberries as an offering of welcome
to me.

I amused myself with tossing crackers to them, some of which would reach
them, others would fall into the water, and then such a scrambling and
shouting! Hands and paddles were in requisition, and loud was the triumph
of her who was successful in reaching a floating one.

Among the Indians with whom Shaw-nee-aw-kee was now engaged in shaking
hands, and who all seemed old friends, were many fine, straight, well-
formed figures, all of them exhibiting frames capable of enduring fatigue
and the hardships of their mode of life. One was describing with much
gesticulation the abundance of the game in the neighborhood, and he seemed
greatly delighted at receiving a quantity of ammunition, with which he
instantly departed to make good his boasts in the matter.

After walking a short distance, we reached the tent, where I was
introduced to Judge Law and a pleasant little gray-haired French gentleman
of the name of Porlier. Several voyageurs and half-breeds were near, the
former busily at work, the latter lounging for the most part, and going
through with what they had to do with a sort of listless indifference.

The contrast between the "all-alive" air of the one class and the
apathetic manner of the other, was quite striking.

After a short conversation among the members of the party, breakfast was
announced, and we entered the tent and took our seats on the ground around
the Indian mat which supplied the place of a table.

The post of honor, namely, the head of the table, was of course given to
me, so that I could not only look around upon the circle of the company,
but also enjoy a fine view

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out of the open door of the tent, and take an observation of all that was
going on at the side-table outside. Judge Doty sat opposite me, with his
back to the opening of the tent, and the other gentlemen on either hand.
We had for our waiter the tall "mitiff" who had been the messenger of the
morning. He was still in the same garb--calico shirt, bright-colored scarf
around his waist, and on his bead a straw hat encircled with a band of
black ostrich feathers, the usual dress of his class.

The tin cups which were to hold our coffee were duly set around, then
breakfast-plates of the same metal, with knives and forks; then followed
the viands, among the most conspicuous of which was a large tin pan of
boiled ducks.

The Judge, wishing to show, probably, that, although we were in the vast
wilderness, all fastidious nicety had not been left behind, took up the
plate which had been set before him, and, seeing something adhering to it
which did not exactly please him, handed it over his shoulder to Grignon,
requesting him to wipe it carefully. Grignon complied by pulling a black
silk barcelona handkerchief out of his bosom, where it had been snugly
tucked away to answer any occasion that might present itself, and, giving
the tin a furious polishing, handed it back again. The Judge looked at it
with a smile of approbation, and giving a glance around the table as much
as to say, "You see how I choose to have things done," applied himself to
his breakfast.

The trail for Fort Winnebago then led from the shore opposite Butte des
Morts, through Ma-zhee-gaw-gaw swamp, and past Green Lake, and it was well
for the Judge that his horses stood waiting for him to "mount and away" as
early as possible after breakfast, or I am afraid the story I should have
been tempted to tell would

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have made his ride an uncomfortable one throughout the day.

We had hardly finished breakfast when our hunter, who had received the
ammunition, returned, bringing with him about fifty fine ducks, which he
had shot in little more than an hour. From that time until the close of
our journey our supply of these delicate birds was never wanting.