Wish-tay-yun took the lead. The horse he rode was accustomed to the country, and well trained to this style of road. As for Charlie, he was perfectly admirable. When he came to a precipitous descent, he would set forward his fore-feet, and slide down on his haunches in the most scientific manner, while my only mode of preserving my balance was to hold fast by the bridle, and lay myself almost flat upon his back. Then our position suddenly changed, and we were scaling the opposite bank, at the imminent risk of falling backward into the ravine below.
It was amusing to see Wish-tay-yun, as he scrambled on ahead, now and then turning partly round to see how I fared. And when, panting and laughing, I at length reached the summit, he would throw up his hands, and shout with the utmost glee, “Mamma Manitou!” (My mother is a spirit).
Our old acquaintances, the Grignons, seemed much surprised that I should have ventured on such a journey. They had never taken it, although they had lived so long at the Ka-kalin,[[95]] but then there was no reason why they should have done so. They could always command a canoe or a boat when they wished to visit “the bay.”
As we had anticipated, our gentlemen joined us at supper. “They had delayed to take dinner with Col. Stambaugh—had had a delightful gallop up from the bay—had seen no ravines, nor anything but fine smooth roads—might have been asleep, but if so, were not conscious of it.” This was the account they gave of themselves, to our no small amusement.
From the Ka-kalin to the Butte des Morts,[[96]] where now lived a man named Knaggs, was our next day’s stage. The country was rough and wild, much like that we had passed through the spring before, in going from Hamilton’s diggings to Kellogg’s Grove, but we were fortunate in having Wish-tay-yun, rather than Mr. H., for our guide, so that we could make our way with some degree of moderation.
We had travelled but forty miles when we reached Knaggs', yet I was both cold and fatigued, so that the sight of the cosy little room in which we found Mrs. Knaggs, and the bright fire, were most cheering objects; and as we had only broken our fast since morning, with a few crackers we carried in our pockets, I must own we did ample justice to her nice coffee and cakes, not to mention venison-steaks and bear’s meat, the latter of which I had never before tasted, and which, truth to tell, I never wished to taste again.
Our supper over, we looked about for a place of repose. The room in which we had taken our meal was of small dimensions, just sufficient to accommodate a bed, a table placed against the wall, and the few chairs on which we sat. There was no room for any kind of a “shake down.”
“Where can you put us for the night?” inquired my husband of Mr. Knaggs, when he made his appearance.
“Why, there is no place that I know of, unless you can camp down in the old building outside.”