ircumstances like the present. There has always been sufficient
incident through the day to furnish themes for discourse, and subjects
of merriment, as long as the company feel disposed for conversation,
which is, truth to tell, not an unconscionable length of time after
their supper is over.

The poor Lieutenant looked grave enough when we set out in advance of
him the next morning. None of his party were acquainted with the road;
but, after giving him directions both general and particular, Mr. Kinzie
promised to _blaze_ a tree, or _set up a chip_ for a guide, at every
place which appeared more than usually doubtful.

We now found ourselves in a much more diversified country than any we
had hitherto travelled. Gently swelling hills, lovely valleys, and
bright sparkling streams were the features of the landscape. But there
was little animate life. Now and then a shout from the leader of the
party (for, according to custom, we travelled Indian file) would call
our attention to a herd of deer "loping," as the Westerners say,
through the forest; or an additional spur would be given to the horses
on the appearance of some small dark object, far distant on the trail
before us. But the game invariably contrived to disappear before we
could reach it, and it was out of the question to leave the beaten track
for a regular hunt.

Soon after mid-day, we descended a long, sloping knoll, and by a sudden
turn came full in view of the beautiful sheet of water denominated
Gros-pied by the French, _Maunk-suck_ by the natives, and by ourselves
Big-foot, from the chief whose village overlooked its waters. Bold,
swelling hills jutted forward into the clear blue expanse, or retreated
slightly to afford a green, level nook, as a resting-place for the
dwelling of man. On the nearer shore stretched a bright, gravelly beach,
across which coursed here and there a pure, sparkling rivulet to join
the larger sheet of water.

On a rising ground at the foot of one of the bold bluffs in the middle
distance, a collection of neat wigwams formed, with their surrounding
gardens, no unpleasant feature in the picture.

A shout of delight burst involuntarily from the whole party, as this
charming landscape met our view. "It was like the Hudson, only less
bold--no, it was like the lake of the Forest Cantons, in the picture of
the Chapel of William Tell! What could be imagined more enchanting? Oh I
if our friends at the East could but enjoy it with us!"