ut its eight-by-ten of superficial space held some eighteen persons, the
greater number of whom were greasy with the oil of the sturgeon. Meantime
a supper of sturgeon had been prepared for me, and great was the
excitement to watch me eat it. The fish was by no means bad; but I have
reason to believe that my performance in the matter of eating it was not
at all a success. It is true that stifling atmosphere, in tense heat, and
many varieties of nastiness and nudity are not promoters of appetite; but
even had I been given a clearer stage and more favourable conducers
towards voracity, I must still have proved but a mere nibbler of sturgeon
in the eyes of such a whale as Chicag.

Glad to escape from the suffocating hole, I emptied my fire-bag of
tobacco among the group and got out into the cold night-air. What a
change! Over the silent snow-sheeted lake, over the dark isles and the
cedar shores, the moon was shining amidst a deep blue sky. Around were
grouped a few birch-bark wigwams. My four dogs, now well known and trusty
friends, were holding high carnival over the heads and tails of Chicag's
feast. In one of the wigwams, detached from the rest, sat a very old man
wrapped in a tattered blanket. He was splitting wood into little pieces,
and feeding a small fire in the centre of the lodge, while he chattered
to himself all the time. The place was clean, and as I watched the little
old fellow at his work I decided to make my bed in his lodge. He was no
other than Parisiboy, the medicine-man of the camp, the quaintest little
old savage I had ever encountered. Two small white mongrels alone shared
his wigwam. "See," he said, "I have no one with me but these two dogs."
The curs thus alluded to felt themselves bound to prove that they were
cognizant of the fact by shoving forward their noses one on each side of
old Parisiboy, an impertinence on their part which led to their sudden
expulsion by being pitched headlong out of the door. Parisiboy now
commenced a lengthened exposition of his woes. "His blanket was old and
full of holes, through which the cold found easy entrance. He was a very
great medicine-man, but he was very poor, and tea was a luxury which he
seldom tasted." I put a handful of tea into his little kettle, and his
bright eyes twinkled with delight under their shaggy brows. "I never go
to sleep," he continued; "it is too cold to go to sleep; I sit up all
night splitting wood and smoking and keeping the fire alight