care of the _tenas men_ (children), and looks after affairs in
general.

MAY 10, 1866.

We walked out to Lake Union, and found an Indian and his wife living in
a tree. The most primitive of the Indians, the old gray ones, who look
the most interesting, do not commonly speak the Chinook at all, or have
any intercourse with the whites. On the way there, we found the peculiar
rose that grows only on the borders of the fir-forest, the wild white
honeysuckle, and the glossy _kinni-kinnick_--the Indian tobacco.

We saw a nest built on the edge of the lake, rising and falling with the
water, but kept in place by the stalks of shrubs about it. A great brown
bird, with spotted breast, rose from it. I recognized it as the
dabchick. The Indians say that this bird was once a human being, wife to
an Indian with whom she quarrelled. He was transformed to the great
blue heron, and stalks about the marshes. With the remnant of her
woman's skill, she makes these curious nests, in sheltered nooks, on the
edges of lakes. She dived below the water, and we peeped in at her
babies. Their floating nest was overhung by white spirea. They had
silver breasts, and pale blue bills. I wondered that their little
bleating cry did not call her back; but, though below the water, she
seemed to know that we were near, and as long as we lingered about she
would not return.

We are going on a long journey to the north, part of it over a desert
table-land, where for four days there will be no house,--a part of the
country frequented by the Snake River Indians and the Nez Perces, who
are inclined to be hostile. It is near the territory of the Pend
d'Oreilles. I have seen one of them, with a pretty, graceful ornament in
her ear.

FORT COLVILLE, WASHINGTON TERRITORY,
June 8, 1866.

We travelled by steamer from Seattle to Portland, thence by a succession
of steamers as far as Wallulla. We then took the stage for Walla Walla,
at which point public accommodation for travel ceases. We stopped there
two or three days, seeking a conveyance across the country to this
point; and finally secured a wagoner, who agreed to transport us and our
luggage for a hundred dollars, the distance being two hundred miles.

The most interesting part of the journey was the passage of the
Columbia. The bar at the mouth of the river is a great hinderance to its
free navigation; and vessels are often detained for days, and even
weeks, waiting for a favorable opportuni