THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 523 



At the Traverse de Sioux our horses were left, and we committed our bodies and 

 little traveling conveniencies to the narrow compass of a modest canoe that must 

 evidently have been dug out from the wrong side of the log — that required us and 

 everything in it to be exactly in the bottom and then to look straight forward 

 and speak from the middle of our mouths, or it was "t'other side up" in an instant. 

 In this way embarked, with our paddles used as balance-poles and propellers (after 

 drilling awhile in shoal water till we could " get the hang of it"), we started off 

 upon the bosom of the Saint Peter's for the Falls of Saint Anthony. 



ARRIVES AT THE FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY. 



Sans accident we arrived at 10 o'clock at night of the secoild day, and sans steamer 

 (which we were in hopes to meet) we were obliged to trust to our little tremu- 

 lous craft to carry us through the windings of the mighty Mississippi and Lake Pepin 

 to Prairie du Chien, a distance of four hundred miles, which I had traveled last 

 summer (viz, in 1835) in the same manner. 



" Oh, the drudgery and toil of paddling our little canoe from this to Prairie du Chien ; 

 we never can do it, Catliu." 



" Ah, well, never mind, my dear fellow ; we must go it ; there is no other way. But 

 think of the pleasure of such a trip, ha? Our guns and our fishing-tackle will we 

 have in good order, and be masters of our own boat. We can shove it into every nook 

 and crevice, explore the caves in the rocks, ascend Mount Strombolo and linger 

 along the pebbly shores of Lake Pepin to our hearts' content." " Well, I am per- 

 fectly agreed ; that's fine, by Jupiter; that's what I shall relish exactly ; we will have 

 our own fun, and a truce to the labor and time; let's haste and lie off." So we 

 catered for our voyage, shook hands with our friends, and were again balancing our 

 skittish bark upon the green waters of the Mississippi. We encamped (as I had done 

 the summer before) along its lonely banks, whose only music is the echoing war- 

 song that rises from the glimmering camp-fire of the retiring savage, or the cries of 

 the famishing wolf that sits and bitterly weeps out in tremulous tones his impatience 

 for the crumbs that are to fall to his lot. 



Oh, but we employed those moments (did we not, Wood ? I would ask you, in any 

 part of the world where circumstances shall throw this in your way), those nights 

 of our voyage, which ended days of peril and fatigue, when our larder was full, 

 when our coffee was good, our mats spread, and our musquito bars over us, which 

 admitted the cool and freshness of night, but screened the dew and bade defiance to 

 the buzzing thousands of sharp-billed winged torturers that were kicking and thump- 

 ing for admission. I speak now of fair weather, not of the nights of lightning and 

 of rain ; we'll pass them over. We had all kinds, though, and as we loitered ten days 

 on our way, we examined and experimented on many things for the benefit of man- 

 kind. We drew into our larder (in addition to bass and wild fowls) clams, snails, 

 frogs, and rattlesnakes, the latter of which, when properly dressed and boiled, we 

 found to be the most delicious food of the laud. 



We were stranded upon the eastern shore of Lake Pepin, where head-winds held us 

 three days, and, like solitary Malays or Zealand penguins, we stalked along its 

 pebbly shores till we were tired, before we could with security lay our little trough 

 upon its troubled surface. When liberated from its wind-bound shores we busily 

 plied our paddles, and nimbly sped our way until we were landed at the fort of 

 "Mount Strombolo" (as the soldiers call it), but properly denominated in French La 

 Montaigne que trompea Veau. We ascended it without much trouble, and enjoyed from 

 its top one of the most magnificent panoramic views that the western world can furnish ; 

 and I would recommend to the tourist who has time to stop for an hour or two to go 

 to its summit, and enjoy with rapture the splendor of the scene that lies near and in 

 distance abou t him. This mountain, or rather pyramid, is an anomaly in the country, 

 rising as it does about seven hundred feet from the water, and washed at its base all 



