brought us to the sandy beaches of Bemidji Lake, the first considerable
body of water in our downward travel, and about one hundred and
twenty-five miles, as the river winds, from Itasca. The real name of
the lake, as used by the Indians and whites adjacent, is Benidjigemah,
meaning "across the lake," and Bemidji is frequently known as Traverse
Lake. It is a lovely, unbroken expanse, about seven miles long and four
miles wide. Its shores are of beautiful white sand, gravel and
boulders, reaching back to open pine-groved bluffs. Our shore-searchers
found agate, topaz, carnelian, etc. Our approach to Bemidji had been
invested with special interest as the first unmistakable landmark in
our lonely wanderings, and as the home of one man--a half-breed--the
only human being who has a home above Cass Lake. We found his hut, but
not himself, at the river's outlet. The lodge is neatly built of bark.
It was surrounded by good patches of corn, potatoes, wheat, beans and
wild raspberries. There is a stable for a horse and a cow, and all
about were the conventional traps of a civilized biped who lives upon a
blending of wit, woodcraft and industry. We greatly wished to see this
hermit, whose nearest neighbors are thirty miles away. His dog welcomed
us with all the passion of canine hunger and days of isolation, but the
master was gone to Leech Lake, as we afterward found from his Cass Lake
neighbors. The wind favored a sail across the lake--a welcome variation
from our hitherto entirely muscular propulsion--so we rigged our spars
and canvas, drifted smoothly out into the trough of the lively but not
angry waves, and swept swiftly across the clear, bright little sea. The
white caps dashed over our decks and a few sharp puffs half careened
our little ships, but the crossing was safely and quickly made. It was
yet only mid-afternoon, but we had paddled steadily and made good
progress nearly four days; so we went into early camp on a bluff
overlooking the entire lake, did our first washing of travel-stained
garments, brought up epistolary arrearages, caught two fine lake-trout
for our next breakfast and went to sound sleep in the
nine-and-a-half-o'clock twilight.

We had been advised that we should need guides in finding our exits
from the lakes, which were obscured by reeds and wild rice. But no
guide was to be had, and we easily found our own way. The river at the
outlet of Bemidji Lake is about one hundred and fifty feet wide, very
s