CHAPTER I. 



WHO WE ARE. — GRINGALET. — SUNRISE. — THE SUGAR-CANE. 



A HALT. 



TT was the 20th April, 1864. The clock of the church of 

 the convent of Saint Joseph cle Grace chimed 4 a.m. just 

 as we turned into the main street that leads out of the town. 



Sumichrast took the lead. Tall in stature, noble in mien, 

 and broad-shouldered, he was, in spite of his blue eyes and 

 fair hair, the perfect representative of moral and bodily- 

 strength. I was always in the habit of permitting him to 

 lead the way, when, in any of our excursions, it was neces- 

 sary to favorably impress the imagination of the Indians. 

 He was distinguished as an ornithologist, and was never so 

 much at home as in the midst of the forests ; in fact, he oft- 



