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.

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 thanksgiving 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.

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 islan