have ventured on such a journey. They had never undertaken it, although
they had lived so long at the Kakalin; but then there was no reason why
they should have done so. They could always command a canoe or a boat
when they wished to visit "the Bay."

As we had anticipated, our gentlemen joined us at supper. "They had
delayed to take dinner with Colonel Stambaugh--had had a delightful
gallop up from: the Bay--had seen no ravines, nor anything but fine
smooth roads--might have been asleep, but, if so, were not conscious of
it." This was the account they gave of themselves, to our no small
amusement.

From the Kakalin to the Butte des Morts, where lived a man named Knaggs,
was our next day's stage. The country was rough and wild, much like that
we had passed through the spring before, in going from Hamilton's
diggings to Kellogg's Grove, but we were fortunate in having
Wish-tay-yun, rather than "Uncle Billy," for our guide, so that we could
make our way with some degree of moderation.

We had travelled but forty miles when we reached Knaggs's, yet I was
both cold and fatigued, so that the cosy little room in which we found
Mrs. Knaggs, and the bright fire, were most cheering objects; and, as we
had only broken our fast since morning with a few crackers we carried in
our pockets, I must own we did ample justice to her nice coffee and
cakes, not to mention venison-steaks and bear's meat, the latter of
which I had never before tasted.

Our supper over, we looked about for a place of repose. The room in
which we had taken our meal was of small dimensions, just sufficient to
accommodate a bed, a table placed against the wall, and the few chairs
on which we sat. There was no room for any kind of a "shakedown."

"Where can you put us for the night?" inquired my husband of Mr. Knaggs,
when he made his appearance.

"Why, there is no place that I know of, unless you can camp down in the
old building outside."

We went to look at it. It consisted of one room, bare and dirty. A huge
chimney, in which a few brands were burning, occupied nearly one side of
the apartment. Against another was built a rickety sort of bunk. This
was the only vestige of furniture to be seen. The floor was thickly
covered with mud and dirt, in the midst of which, near the fire, was
seated an old Indian with a pan of boiled corn on his lap, which he was
scooping up with both hands and devouring with the utmost voracity.

We soon discovered that he w