at bay through the night, now began to make themselves amends,
and to torment us unmercifully.

After our most uncomfortable and unpalatable breakfast, the first
question for consideration was, what we were to do with ourselves. Our
boat lay submerged at the foot of the hill, half-way up the rapids. The
nearest habitation among the Waubanakees was some miles distant, and
this there was no means of reaching but by an Indian canoe, if some of
our present friends and neighbors would be so obliging as to bring one
for our use. Even then it was doubtful if boats could be found
sufficient to convey all our numerous party back to Green Bay.

In the midst of these perplexing consultations a whoop was heard from
beyond the hill, which here sloped away to the north, at the head of the
rapids.

"There is John! that is certainly his voice!" cried more than one of the
company.

It was, indeed, my husband, and in a moment he was among us. Never was
arrival more opportune, more evidently providential.

Not having learned our plans (for the unsettled state of the country had
prevented our sending him word), he had come provided with a boat, to
take us back to Fort Winnebago.

Our drying operations, which we had recommenced this morning, were soon
cut short. Everything was shuffled away in the most expeditious manner
possible, and in an incredibly short time we were transferred to the
other boat, which lay quietly above the Chute, and were pulling away
towards Winnebago Lake.

We had resolved to go only so far as the vicinity of the lake, where the
breeze would render the mosquitoes less intolerable, and then to stop
and make one more attempt at drying our clothing. Accordingly, when we
reached a beautiful high bank near the Little Butte, we stopped for that
purpose again, unpacked our trunks, and soon every bush and twig was
fluttering with the spoils of the cruel waves.

Hardly had we thus disposed of the last rag or ribbon when the tramp of
horses was heard, followed by loud shouts and cheers ringing through the
forest.

A company of about twenty-five horsemen, with banners flying, veils
fluttering from their hats, and arms glittering in the sun, rode into
our midst, and, amid greetings and roars of laughter, inquired into the
nature and reasons of our singular state of confusion.

They were Colonel Stambough and Alexander Irwin, of Green Bay, with a
company of young volunteers, and followed by a whooping band of
Menomon