lofty trees.

We were now fairly in the Winnebago country, and I soon learned that the
odd-sounding name of the place was derived from the principal chief of
the nation, whose residence it was. The inhabitants were absent, having,
in all probability, departed to their wintering grounds. We here took
leave of our friend Wish-tay-yun, at the borders of whose country we had
now arrived.

"_Bon-jour, Chon!_" (John:) "_bon-jour, maman_." A hearty shake of the
hand completed his adieu, as we pushed off into the lake, and left him
smoking his kin-nee-kin-nick[9] and waiting until the spirit should move
him to take up his long _Indian trot_ towards his home in the Menomonee
country.

With him our sunshine seemed to have departed. The skies, hitherto so
bright and serene, became overcast, and, instead of the charming voyage
we had anticipated over the silver waters of the lake, we were obliged
to keep ourselves housed under our canvas shelter, only peeping out now
and then to catch a glimpse of the surrounding prospect through the
pouring rain.

It was what might have been expected on an autumnal day, but we were
unreasonable enough to find it tedious; so, to beguile the time and
lessen my disappointment, my husband related to me some incidents of his
early history, apropos to the subject of "Four-Legs."

While he was living at Prairie du Chien, in the employ of the American
Fur Company, the chiefs and other Indians from the Upper Mississippi
used frequently to come to the place to sell their furs and peltries,