110 RESTING AT SAINTE-GENEVIEVE. 



We were, therefore, compelled to quit our friendly 

 Redskins ; and we parted from each other with many 

 protestations of life-long amity. 



We arrived at the cape on the same evening ; and 

 next morning, after passing the Grande Tour, an im- 

 mense rock, forming a lofty circular island, forty foet 

 high, in the centre of the Mississippi, we rowed towards 

 Sainte-Genevieve, where we might rest after our fatigues. 



During the night we heard, on the Illinois shore, the 

 howls of the cayeutes in pursuit of the deer. By the 

 light of the moon, which illuminated the earth like the 

 electric light in an operatic scene, we could see a hundred 

 cayeutes grouped in a pack like bloodhounds, hunting a 

 stag, and driving him towards a point of the coast where 

 another troop lay in ambush. Suddenly, the harassed 

 animal found himself in the presence of his concealed 

 enemies, and after running a few paces further, fell a 

 victim to their voracity. At this moment a cloud not 

 unfitly obscured the picture, and everything passed into 

 shadow. One might have thought the whole to be a 

 hurried vision, but for the hoarse voices of the cayeutes 

 as they revelled in their unexpected feast. 



After resting at Sainte-Genevieve for a couple of days, 

 we began to think of returning home. 



Crossing the Mississippi, we soon found ourselves in 

 the wood which leads across the mountains to the bank 

 of the Wabash. We travelled on foot ; but before reach- 

 ing the first slope of the hills, we met with wide mea- 

 dows, flooded over, which we were compelled to traverse. 

 The slippery skin of our mocassins rendering our walk- 

 ing painful, greatly retarded our efforts, and prevented 



