night, I was almost in despair. It was my first journey
on horseback, and I had not yet become inured to the exercise.

When we reached Morrison's I was so much exhausted that, as my husband
attempted to lift me from the saddle, I fell into his arms.

"This will never do," said he. "To-morrow we must turn our faces towards
Fort Winnebago again."

The door opened hospitably to receive us. We were welcomed by a lady
with a most sweet, benignant countenance, and by her companion, some
years younger. The first was Mrs. Morrison--the other, Miss Elizabeth
Dodge, daughter of General Dodge.

My husband laid me upon a small bed, in the room where the ladies had
been sitting at work. They took off my bonnet and riding-dress, chafed
my hands, and prepared me some warm wine and water, by which I was soon
revived. A half-hour's repose so refreshed me that I was able to
converse with the ladies, and to relieve my husband's mind of all
anxiety on my account. Tea was announced soon after, and we repaired to
an adjoining building, for Morrison's, like the establishment of all
settlers of that period, consisted of a group of detached log houses or
_cabins_, each containing one or at most two apartments.

The table groaned with good cheer, and brought to mind some that I had
seen among the old-fashioned Dutch residents on the banks of the Hudson.

I had recovered my spirits, and we were quite a cheerful party. Mrs.
Morrison told us that during the first eighteen months she passed in
this country she did not speak with a white woman, the only society she
had being that of her husband and two black servant-women.

A Tennessee woman had called in with her little son just before tea,
and we amused Mr. Kinzie with a description of the pair. The mother's
visit was simply one of courtesy. She was a little, dumpy woman, with a
complexion burned perfectly red by the sun, and hair of an exact
tow-color, braided up from her forehead in front and from her neck
behind. These tails, meeting on the top of her head, were fastened with
a small tin comb. Her dress was of checkered homespun, a "very tight
fit," and, as she wore no ruff or handkerchief around her neck, she
looked as if just prepared for execution. She was evidently awestruck at
the sight of visitors, and seemed inclined to take her departure at
once; but the boy, not so easily intimidated, would not understand her
signs and pinches until he had sidled up to Mrs. Morrison, and, drawin