The men rowed well, and brought us to Gleason’s about eleven o’clock the next day. We were greeted with the most enthusiastic demonstrations by my old friend La Grosse Americaine who had removed here from Bellefontaine.
“Oh! Mrs. Armstrong,” cried we, “get us some breakfast—we are famishing.”
At that instant who should appear but our faithful Mâtâ, driving the little old calash in which we were in the habit of making our little excursions in the neighborhood of the fort. He had ridden over, hoping to meet us, in the idea that some of us would prefer this method of reaching our home.
With provident thoughtfulness he had brought tea, roasted coffee, fresh butter, eggs, etc., lest we should be short of such luxuries in that advanced stage of our journey.
His “Good morning, Madame Johns! How do you dos?” was a pleasant and welcome sound.
We could not wait for our breakfast, but gathered round La Grosse Americaine like a parcel of children while she cut and spread slices of bread and butter for us.
After our regular meal was finished it was decided that sister Margaret should take Josette and return with Mats to open the house and make it ready for our reception. It had been the headquarters of militia, Indians, and stragglers of various descriptions during our absence, and we could easily imagine that a little “misrule and unreason” might have had sway for that period.
We had yet seventy-two miles, by the devious winding course of the river, over first the beautiful waters of Lac de Bœuf, and then through the low marshy lands that spread away to the Portage. An attempt was made on the part of one of the gentlemen to create a little excitement among the ladies as we approached the spot where it had been supposed the Sauks might pass on their way to the Chippewa country.
“Who knows,” said he gravely, “but they may be lurking in this neighborhood—yet if so, we shall probably have some signal—we must be on the alert!” Some of the ladies began to turn pale and look about them. After an interval of perfect silence, a low prolonged whistle was heard. There was so much agitation, and actual terror, that the mischievous author of the trick was obliged to confess at once, and receive a hearty scolding for the pain he had caused.
Just before sunset of the second day from Gleason’s we reached our home. Everything was radiant with neatness and good order. With the efficient aid of our good Manaigre and his wife the house had been white-washed from the roof to the door sill—a thorough scrubbing and cleansing effected—the carpets unpacked and spread upon the floors, the furniture arranged, and though last not least, a noble supper smoked upon the board by the time we had made, once more, a civilized toilette.