o the
comfort of his horses, and assisting his men in making their fire, and
pitching their tent, which the rising storm made a matter of some
difficulty.

From the Indian he learned that we were in what was called the Big
Woods,[17] or "Piche's Grove," from a Frenchman of that name living not
far from the spot--that the river we had crossed was the Fox River--that
he could guide us to _Piche's_, from which the road was perfectly plain,
or even into Chicago if we preferred--but that we had better remain
encamped for that day, as there was a storm coming on, and in the mean
time he would go and shoot some ducks for our dinner and supper. He was
accordingly furnished with powder and shot, and set off again for game
without delay.

I had put into my pocket, on leaving home, a roll of scarlet ribbon, in
case a stout string should be wanted, and I now drew it forth, and with
the knife which hung around my neck I cut off a couple of yards for each
of the little girls. They received it with great delight, and their
mother, dividing each portion into two, tied a piece to each of the
little clubs into which their hair was knotted on the temples. They
laughed, and exclaimed "Saum!" as they gazed at each other, and their
mother joined in their mirth, although, as I thought, a little unwilling
to display her maternal exultation before a stranger.

The tent being all in order, my husband came for me, and we took leave
of our friends in the wigwam, with grateful hearts.

The storm was raging without. The trees were bending and cracking around
us, and the air was completely filled with the wild-fowl screaming and
_quacking_ as they made their way southward before the blast. Our tent
was among the trees not far from the river. My husband took me to the
bank to look for a moment at what we had escaped. The wind was sweeping
down from the north in a perfect hurricane. The water was filled with
masses of snow and ice, dancing along upon the torrent, over which were
hurrying thousands of wild-fowl, making the woods resound to their
deafening clamor.

Had we been one hour later, we could not possibly have crossed the
stream, and there would have been nothing for us but to have remained
and starved in the wilderness. Could we be sufficiently grateful to that
kind Providence that had brought us safely through such dangers?

The men had cut down an immense tree, and built a fire against it, but
the wind shifted so continually that every