186 
eagles, swans, herons and pelicans stared 
blankly across to the opposite side upon a 
motley collection of squatting wolves, standing 
lynxes and wildcats, and the spreading antlers 
surmounting the pathetic faces of elk and deer. 
To the untutored Indians the business of 
preparing and mounting the specimens was 
very wonderful, especially the process of in- 
serting the artificial eyes, and during this part 
of the performance the interior of Professor 
Joe’s pavilion was thronged with a multitude of 
warriors and squaws, by allof whom the oper- 
ation was regarded with grave and studious 
interest. 
But Professor Joe, according to the account 
of Narcisse Rencounter, from whom, 1n his little 
cabin hidden in a thicket, the main facts con- 
cerning the experiences of the wandering taxi- 
dermist at the Sioux village were gathered, 
was likewise an adept in the art of drawing, 
and much given to wandering with sketch 
book and pencil amid the savage and imposing 
scenery in the vicinity of the camp. 
One midsummer day while shooting grouse 
Rencounter discovered a letter lying on a bank 
beside a spring located amid the solitude of the 
river hills, and which had been indited by Pro- 
fessor Joe to a college friend at St. Louis, but 
which it appears had been lost by that func- 
tionary or inadvertently thrown aside with 
some waste matter contained in his portfolio. 
Rencounter, himself an excellent scholar, hav- 
ing been educated at a Catholic school in Can- 
ada, was therefore quite capable of perusing 
the stray epistle, the chirography of which was 
extremely neat and legible. The upper por- 
tion of the first page was embellished with an 
elegant vignette executed in colors and repre- 
senting a rugged cedar-crowned ledge with a 
charming bit of river and sky for a back- 
ground. On the crest of the ledge, and be- 
neath the overarching canopy of cedars, a win- 
some Indian maiden, with painted cheeks and 
picturesque head-dress of green and yellow 
plumes, stood gazing dreamily at the wander- 
ing river. 
“Pretty Cloud, by all that’s holy!” ejacu- 
lated Rencounter, crossing himself with amaze- 
ment. ; 
“‘ Now, Mr. Professor Joe,” he further solilo- 
NATURE'S REALM. 
quized, ‘‘ between the affair of making love to 
the belle of a hostile camp of Sioux Indians and 
the business of stuffing eagles and pelicans, I 
must take it upon myself to inform you that 
the latter can certainly be carried on with far 
less risk of having your topknot drying on a 
lodge pole one of these days, which, if this be 
your game, is a catastrophe sure to overtake 
you.” 
After this sage observation, which was based 
on some of his own personal experiences in the 
field of Indian love making, Rencounter, with- 
out so much as “‘ by your leave,” proceeded to 
regale himself with the contents of Professor 
Joe’s letter, which was addressed to Mr. Fred- 
erick Lawrence, and read as follows: 
Deviw’s IsLanD, —— , 18—. 
DEAR FrED:—With the breezy fragrance of pine branches in 
my nostrils, and fortified, moreover, by an exhilaration of 
mind and body such as I never before experienced, I will now 
redeem my promise and proceed to inform you how the world 
wags at Devil’s Island. Concerning any curiosity you may 
chance to entertain as to why the title by which his satanic ma- 
jesty is most familiarly known has been clapped upon this ro- 
mantic island, I must confess that that is a question which I 
have not as yet investigated. However, you may be sure that 
the appellation has been bestowed upon it by the superstitious 
Indians. Good and evil spirits cut about an equal figure in 
their geography, but respecting the island I can perceiv+ noth- 
ing in its physical aspects that could possibly suggest a title so 
unmelodious. I frequently annoy Rencounter, a French- 
Canadian, a sort of hermit who occupies a little cakin not far 
from my tent, by assuring him that the Indians have informed 
me that the island is so called from the fact of his own (Ren- 
counter’s) close proximity thereto—that previous to his advent 
it was known as Paradise Island, etc. The Indians are quick 
to notice any peculiarity in a man’s personal make-up, and on 
this certain peculiarity, whatever it may chance to be, they 
proceed forthwith to hang the name by which the individual is 
henceforth to be known by them. Rencounter is the possessor 
of a huge Napoleonic moustache terminating at the extremities. 
with sharp, slender points. To the simple-minded Indians 
these wisp-like projections on either side of his face were some- 
how suggestive of the horns of a catfish, and Rencounter was 
accordingly given the name of E-hop-e-te, The Fish, and he is 
never hailed by any other title. By the way, neighbor Ren- 
counter is quite a character, and he is gifted with a pomposity 
of language sufficient to paralyze a lexicographer. A chopper 
who has passed several seasons in this region informs me that 
he was educated at Montreal with a view of becoming a Cath- 
olic priest; but, having discovered that the business of patter- 
ing credos in the wilderness was a rather precarious means of 
gaining a subsistence, E-hop-e-te has changed his base of op- 
erations and stocked his hermitage with a variety of commod- 
ities, which are dispensed to the choppers at a profit sufficiently 
exorbitant to permit the occasional purchase of a demijohn of 
fire-water—a beverage for which he has a remarkable weak- 
ness. It is toward the close of a protracted debauch that 
E-hop-e-te’s bump of veneration becomes the most apparent. 
The more his oft-repeated potations tend to reduce the con- 

