uccess.

At Aitkin, the most northern town on the Mississippi, a brief rest was
taken before the Captain embarked on the second stage of his seaward
voyage. He had now entered the bounds of civilization, and from this
point the principal incidents of his expedition were such as would
naturally occur in a country where the people delight to honor
enterprise, courage and ambition. All along the route great enthusiasm
was evinced. When it was announced through the medium of the press at
what time he would reach a given point, the inhabitants flocked to the
landing-place to do him honor; and many, more impatient than the rest,
would put out in canoes and skiffs to meet him on the way. Upon
disembarking he would be escorted to his hotel, usually preceded by a
band playing "Hail to the Chief" or other appropriate airs, and wherever
he delivered his lecture large audiences greeted him, curious to see and
hear the man who had at last discovered the source of the Mississippi,
and who had come so far on its mighty waters in a frail canoe.
Everywhere he charmed all who met him by the courtesy of his manners,
the eloquence and interest of his conversation, and the modesty with
which he spoke of his important undertaking. Some, indeed, were
disappointed by his lecture, having hoped to hear an account of his
discoveries. But while Captain Glazier might with perfect propriety have
spoken of his own exploits after recounting in glowing terms those of
the old explorers, he is too modest and reserved to say aught which
might in the least seem to detract from the achievements of his heroic
predecessors. Therefore, as his subject was the "Pioneers of the
Mississippi," he spoke only of their exploits, giving them in eloquent
words their just tribute of praise, and leaving it to others to say that
what _they_ had only begun _he_ had triumphantly finished.

Upon leaving Aitkin on the fifteenth of August the birch bark canoes,
with the exception of the one used by the Captain himself, were
abandoned, their places being taken by a Rushton canoe, named "Alice,"
after his daughter, and a Racine canoe of the Rob Roy pattern. Their
departure from this thriving little city was the signal for an
enthusiastic demonstration on the part of its inhabitants, who
congregated on the shore to see them off. Captain Glazier acknowledged
the compliment in a short speech, and then, stepping into his canoe, the
little flotilla paddled away amidst the cheers of t