TAY-BUN-ANE-JE-GAY. 269 



dozen barrels of flour, three barrels of pork, a ten-gallon 

 keg of molasses, one-gallon keg of vinegar, sugar, beans, 

 rice, grain for the horses, and all in profusion. At St. 

 Paul half the provisions were stored, and we took a 

 wagon load, all but the driver walking up the big military 

 road that led to Fort Ripley, about one hundred miles 

 north of St. Paul. Our first night out we camped on 

 Rum River, and Henry Neaville tasted it and said: 

 "Hum! it's nothing but water." From Fort Ripley to 

 Crow Wing the road was not so good. Making a base 

 of supplies at the trading post, we struck into the woods, 

 and afterward Tom Davies drove back to St. Paul for the 

 food left there. We took camp and grub on our backs. 

 At the place to begin work I made camp, and Neaville 

 went back for more supplies. There was about four 

 inches of snow, and this lay without thaw or addition 

 until we left the woods late in December. 



I had expected to furnish game for camp, and took 

 my rifle, naturally thinking that this far-off region 

 abounded in game as the Bad Ax country did, where I 

 spent the previous winter. I lugged that rifle for two 

 months, and only killed four ruffed grouse. I saw one 

 deer and two rabbits, but did not get a shot at them. 

 The country was destitute of game. Indians swarmed 

 all over it. At Crow Wing the great trail from Lake 

 Superior crossed the one coming down from the Red 

 River of the North, and the trading post was visited by 

 scores of Indians every day from each of the four 

 branches of the trails. 



It was on the second day out. Henry had returned 

 quickly, as we were not yet far from our base, and I was 

 baking bread and getting dinner for two, as the linemen 

 had theirs with them, and would not return until night, 

 when in walked the American whose name heads this 



