"I pity a body," said he, "when I see them making such an awful mistake as to come out this way; for comfort _never touched_ this Western country."

We found Mr. Hamilton as agreeable a companion as on the preceding day, but a most desperate rider. He galloped on at such a rate that, had I not exchanged my pony for the fine, noble Jerry, I should have been in danger of being left behind.

Well mounted as we all were, he sometimes nearly distanced us. We were now among the branches of the Pickatonick, and the country had lost its prairie character and become rough and broken. We went dashing on, sometimes down ravines, sometimes through narrow passes, where, as I followed, I left fragments of my veil upon the projecting and interwoven branches. Once my hat became entangled, and, had not my husband sprung to my rescue, I must have shared the fate of Absalom, Jerry's ambition to keep his place in the race making it probable he would do as did the mule who was under the unfortunate prince.

There was no halting upon the route, and, as we kept the same pace until three o'clock in the afternoon, it was beyond a question that when we reached "Kellogg's" we had travelled at least thirty miles. One of my greatest annoyances during the ride had been the behavior of the little beast Brunet. He had been hitherto used as a saddle-horse, and had been accustomed to a station in the file near the guide or leader. He did not relish being put in the background as a pack-horse, and accordingly, whenever we approached a stream, where the file broke up to permit each horseman to choose his own place of fording, it was, invariably the case that just as I was reining Jerry into the water, Brunet would come rushing past and throw himself into our very footsteps. Plunging, snorting, and splashing me with water, and sometimes even starting Jerry into a leap aside, he more than once brought me into imminent danger of being tossed into the stream. It was in vain that, after one or two such adventures, I learned to hold back and give the vexatious little animal the precedence. His passion seemed to be to go into the water precisely at the moment Jerry did; and I was obliged at last to make a bargain with young Roy to dismount and hold him at every stream until I had got safely across.

"Kellogg's"[16] was a comfortable mansion, just within the verge of a pleasant "grove of timber," as a small forest is called by Western travellers. We found Mrs. Kellogg a very respectable-looking matron, who soon informed us she was from the city of New York. She appeared proud and delighted to entertain Mr. Hamilton, for whose family, she took occasion to tell us, she had, in former days, been in the habit of doing needle-work.

The worthy woman provided us an excellent dinner, and afterwards installed me in a rocking-chair beside a large fire, with the "Life of Mrs. Fletcher" to entertain me, while the gentlemen explored the premises, visited Mr. Kellogg's stock, and took a careful look at their own. We had intended to go to Dixon's the same afternoon, but the snow, beginning again to fall, obliged us to content ourselves where we were.

In the mean time, finding we were journeying to Chicago, Mr. Kellogg came to the determination to accompany us, having, as he said, some business to accomplish at that place: so Mrs. Kellogg busied herself in preparing him to set off with us the following morning. I pleaded hard to remain yet another day, as the following was Sunday, on which I objected to travel; but in view of the necessities of the case, the uncertainty of the weather, and the importance of getting as quickly as possible through this wild country, my objections were overruled, and I could only obtain a delay in starting until so late in the afternoon as would give us just time to ride the sixteen miles to "Dixon's" before sunset.

No great time was required for Mr. Kellogg's preparations. He would take, he said, only two days' provisions, for at his brother-in-law Dixon's we should get our supper and breakfast, and the route from there to Chicago could, he well knew, be accomplished in a day and a half.

Although, according to this calculation, we had sufficient remaining of our stores to carry us to the end of our journey, yet my husband took the precaution of begging Mrs. Kellogg to bake us another bag of biscuits, in case of accidents, and he likewise suggested to Mr. Kellogg the prudence of furnishing himself with something more than his limited allowance; but the good man objected that he was unwilling to burden his horse more than was absolutely necessary, seeing that, at this season of the year, we were obliged to carry fodder for the animals, in addition to the rest of their load. It will be seen that we had reason to rejoice in our own foresight.

My experience of the previous night had rendered me somewhat less fastidious than when I commenced my journey, so that, when introduced to our sleeping-apartment, which I found we were to share with six men, travellers like ourselves, my only feeling was one of thankfulness that each bed was furnished with a full suit of blue checked curtains, which formed a very tolerable substitute for a dressing-room.

CHAPTER XV.

ROCK RIVER--HOURS OF TROUBLE.

It was late on the following day (March 13th) when we took leave of our kind hostess. She loaded us with cakes, good wishes, and messages to her sister Dixon and the children. We journeyed pleasantly along through a country beautiful in spite of its wintry appearance.

There was a house at Buffalo Grove, at which we stopped for half an hour, and where a nice-looking young girl presented us with some maple-sugar of her own making. She entertained us with the history of a contest between two rival claimants for the patronage of the stage-wagon, the proprietors of which had not decided whether to send it by Buffalo Grove or by another route, which she pointed out to us, at no great distance. The _driver_, she took care to inform us, was in favor of the former; and the blush with which she replied in the affirmative to our inquiry, "Is he a young man?" explained the whole matter satisfactorily.

At length, just at sunset, we reached the dark, rapid waters of the Rock River. The ferry which we had travelled so far out of our way to take advantage of, proved to be merely a small boat or skiff, the larger one having been swept off into the stream, and carried down in the breaking-up of the ice, the week previous.

My husband's first care was to get me across. He placed me with the saddles, packs, etc. in the boat, and as, at that late hour, no time was to be lost, he ventured, at the same time, to hold the bridles of the two most docile horses, to guide them in swimming the river.

When we had proceeded a few rods from the shore, we were startled by a loud puffing and blowing near us, and looking around, to our great surprise, discovered little Brunet just upon our "weather-bow."

Determined not to be outdone by his model, Jerry, he had taken to the water on his own responsibility, and arrived at the opposite shore as soon as any of the party.

All being safely landed, a short walk brought us to the house of Mr.

Dixon. Although so recently come into the country, he had contrived to make everything comfortable around him; and when he ushered us into Mrs.

Dixon's sitting-room, and seated us by a glowing wood fire, while Mrs.

Dixon busied herself in preparing us a nice supper, I felt that the comfort overbalanced the inconvenience of such a journey.

Mrs. Dixon was surrounded by several children. One leaning against the chimney-piece was dressed in the full Indian costume--calico shirt, blanket, and leggings. His dark complexion, and full, melancholy eyes, which he kept fixed upon the ashes in which he was making marks with a stick, rarely raising them to gaze on us, as children are wont to do, interested me exceedingly, and I inquired of an intelligent little girl, evidently a daughter of our host,--

"Who is that boy?"

"Oh, that is John Ogie," answered she.

"What is the matter with him? he looks very sad."

"Oh, he is fretting after his mother."

"Is she dead, then?"

"Some say she is dead, and some say she is gone away. I guess she is dead, and buried up in one of those graves yonder"--pointing to two or three little picketed inclosures upon a rising ground opposite the window.

I felt a strong sympathy with the child, which was increased when the little spokeswoman, in answer to my inquiry, "Has he no father?"

replied,--

"Oh, yes, but he goes away, and drinks, and don't care for his children."

"And what becomes of John then?"

"He stays here with us, and we teach him to read, and he learns _dreadful_ fast."

When the boy at length turned his large dark eyes upon me, it went to my heart. It was such a _motherless_ look. And it was explained when, long afterwards, I learned his further history. His mother was still living, and he knew it, although, with the reserve peculiar to his people, he never spoke of her to his young companions. Unable to endure the continued ill treatment of her husband, a surly, intemperate Canadian, she had left him, and returned to her own family among the Pottowattamies. Years after, this boy and a brother who had also been left behind with their father found their way to the Upper Missouri, to join their mother, who, with the others of her tribe, had been removed by the Government from the shores of Lake Michigan.

A most savory supper of ducks and venison, with their accompaniments, soon smoked upon the board, and we did ample justice to it. Travelling is a great sharpener of the appetite, and so is cheerfulness; and the latter was increased by the encouraging account Mr. Dixon gave us of the remainder of the route yet before us.

"There is no difficulty," said he, "if you keep a little to the north, and strike the great _Sauk trail_. If you get too far to the south, you will come upon the Winnebago Swamp, and, once in that, there is no telling when you will ever get out again. As for the distance, it is nothing at all to speak of. Two young men came out here from Chicago, on foot, last fall. They got here the evening of the second day; and, even with a lady in your party, you could go on horseback in less time than that. The only thing is to be sure and get on the great track that the Sauks have made, in going every year from the Mississippi to Canada, to receive their presents from the British Indian Agent."

The following morning, which was a bright and lovely one for that season of the year, we took leave of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, in high spirits. We travelled for the first few miles along the beautiful, undulating banks of the Rock River, always in an easterly direction, keeping the beaten path, or rather road, which led to Fort Clark, or Peoria. The Sauk trail, we had been told, would cross this road at the distance of about six miles.

After having travelled, as we judged, fully that distance, we came upon a trail bearing northeast, and a consultation was held as to the probability of its being the one we were in search of.

Mr. Kinzie was of opinion that it tended too much to the north, and was, moreover, too faint and obscure for a trail so much used, and by so large a body of Indians in their annual journeys.

Plante was positive as to its being the very spot where he and "Piche"

in their journey to Port Winnebago, the year before, struck into the great road. "On that very rising-ground at the point of woods, he remembered perfectly well stopping to shoot ducks, which they ate for their supper."

Mr. Kellogg was non-committal, but sided alternately with each speaker.

As Plante was "the guide," and withal so confident of being right, it was decided to follow him, not without some demurring, however, on the part of the bourgeois, who every now and then called to halt, to discuss the state of affairs.

"Now, Plante," he would say, "I am sure you are leading us too far north. Why, man, if we keep on in this direction, following the course of the river, we shall bring up at Kosh-ko-nong, instead of Chicago."

"Ah! mon bourgeois," would the light-hearted Canadian reply, "would I tell you this is the road if I were not quite certain? Only one year ago I travelled it, and can I forget so soon? Oh, no--I remember every foot of it."

But Monsieur Plante was convinced of his mistake when the trail brought us to the great bend of the river with its bold rocky bluffs.

"Are you satisfied now, Plante?" asked Mr. Kinzie. "By your leave, I will now play pilot myself." And he struck off from the trail, in a direction as nearly east as possible.

The weather had changed and become intensely cold, and we felt that the detention we had met with, even should we now be in the right road, was no trifling matter. We had not added to our stock of provisions at Dixon's, wishing to carry as much forage as we were able for our horses, for whom the scanty picking around our encamping-grounds afforded an insufficient meal. But we were buoyed up by the hope that we were in the right path at last, and we journeyed on until night, when we reached a comfortable "encampment," in the edge of a grove near a small stream.

Oh, how bitterly cold that night was! The salted provisions, to which I was accustomed, occasioned me an intolerable thirst, and my husband was in the habit of placing the little tin coffee-pot filled with water at my bed's head when we went to rest, but this night it was frozen solid long before midnight. We were so well wrapped up in blankets that we did not suffer from cold while within the tent, but the open air was severe in the extreme.

March 15th.--We were roused by the bourgeois at peep of day to make preparations for starting. We must find the Sauk trail this day at all hazards. What would become of us should we fail to do so? It was a question no one liked to ask, and certainly one that none could have answered.