is of a greenish-olive color, and, although it forms a pleasant
article of food, it is far from being particularly nutritive. The
Indians are fond of it in the form of soup, with the addition of birds
or venison.

CHAPTER VI.

BREAKFAST AT BETTY MORE'S.

The earth, the trees, and the shrubbery were all too much filled with
the heavy rain which had fallen to allow us to think of encamping, so we
made arrangements to bestow ourselves in our little saloon for the
night. It was rather a difficult matter to light a fire, but among the
underbrush, in a wild, undisturbed spot, there will always be found some
fragments of dried branches, and tufts of grass which the rain has not
reached, and by the assistance of the spunk, or light-wood, with which
travellers always go well provided, a comforting fire was at length
blazing brightly.

After our chilling, tedious day, it was pleasant to gather round it, to
sit on the end of the blazing logs, and watch the Frenchmen preparing
our supper--the kettle nestling in a little nook of bright glowing
coals--the slices of ham browning and crisping on the forked sticks, or
"broches," which the voyageurs dexterously cut, and set around the
burning brands--- the savory messes of "pork and onions" hissing in the
frying-pan, always a tempting regale to the hungry Frenchmen. Truly, it
needs a wet, chilly journey, taken nearly fasting, as ours had been, to
enable one to enjoy to its full extent that social meal--a supper.

The bright sun, setting amid brilliant masses of clouds, such as are
seen only in our Western skies, gave promise of a fine day on the
morrow, with which comforting assurance we were glad to take our leave
of him, and soon after of each other.

We had hardly roused up the following morning, in obedience to the call
of the bourgeois, when our eyes were greeted with the sight of an
addition to our company--a tall, stalwart, fine-looking young _mitiff_,
or half-breed, accompanied by two or three Indians. Vociferous and
joyous were the salutations of the latter to their "father" and their
new "mother." They were the first Winnebagoes I had seen, and they were
decidedly not the finest specimens of their tribe. The mitiff, a scion
of the wide-spreading tree of the Grignons, was the bearer of an
invitation to us from Judge Law, who, with one or two Green Bay friends,
was encamped a few miles above, to come and breakfast with him in his
tent. We had not dreamed of finding