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 white neighbors here, but our
vicinity could be no secret to them, as long as there was an Indian in
the neighborhood. So, delaying only for the soldiers to finish their
breakfast, we pushed on for the "Butte des Morts," or, as Mrs. A always
persisted in calling it, _Betty More's_.
The white tent of the Judge gleamed in the morning sun as we approached
the little rising ground on which it stood. The river was filled with
canoes, paddled principally by squaws. Many Indians were to be seen on
the banks, all with their guns and hunting accoutrements, for the air
was filled in every direction with flocks of teal, which at this season
are most abundant and delicious. The immense fields of wild rice
abounding here and in the little lake below, make this vicinity their
favorite place of resort in the autumn months. The effect of this
nourishing food is to make the flesh of the birds so fat, so white, and
so tender, that a caution is always given to a young sportsman to fire
only at such as fly very low, for if shot high in the air they are
bruised to pieces and rendered unfit for eating by their fall to the
ground.
We were hemmed in by a little fleet of canoes which surrounded us, the
women chattering, laughing, and eagerly putting forward their little
wooden bowls of fresh cranberries as an offering of welcome to me.
I amused myself with tossing crackers to them, some of which would reach
them, others would fall into the water, and then such a scrambling and
shouting! Hands and paddles were in requisition, and loud was the
triumph of her who was successful in reaching a floating one.
Among the Indians with whom Shaw-nee-aw-kee was now engaged in shaking
hands, and who all seemed old friends, were many fine, straight,
well-formed figures, all of them exhibiting frames capable of enduring
fatigue and the hardships of their mode of life. One was describing with
much gesticulation the abundance of the game in the neighborhood, and he
seemed greatly delighted at receiving a quantity of ammunition, with
which he instantly departed to make good his boasts in the matter.
After walking a short distance, we reached the tent, where I was
introduced to Judge Law and a pleasant little gray-haired French
gentleman of the name of Porlier. Several voyageurs and half-breeds were
near, the former busily at work, the latter lounging for the most part,
and going through with what they had to do with a sort of listless
indifference.
The contrast between the "all-alive" air of the one class and the
apathetic manner of the other, was quite striking.
After a short conversation among the members of the party, breakfast was
announced, and we entered the tent and took our seats on the ground
around the Indian mat which supplied the place of a table.
The post of honor, namely, the _head_ of the table, was of course given
to me, so that I could not only look around upon the circle of the
company, but also enjoy a fine view out of the open door of the tent,
and take an observation of all that was going on at the _side-table_
outside. Judge Doty sat opposite me, with his back to the opening of the
tent, and the other gentlemen on either hand. We had for our waiter the
tall "mitiff" who had been the messenger of the morning. He was still in
the same garb--calico shirt, bright-colored scarf around his waist, and
on his head a straw hat encircled with a band of black ostrich feathers,
the usual dress of his class.
The tin cups which were to hold our coffee were duly set around, then
breakfast-plates of the same metal, with knives and forks; then followed
the viands, among the most conspicuous of which was a large tin pan of
boiled ducks.
The Judge, wishing to show, probably, that, although we were in the vast
wilderness, all fastidious nicety had not been left behind, took up the
plate which had been set before him, and, seeing something adhering to
it which did not exactly please him, handed it over his shoulder to
Grignon, requesting him to wipe it carefully. Grignon complied by
pulling a black silk barcelona handkerchief out of his bosom, where it
had been snugly tucked away to answer any occasion that might present
itself, and, giving the tin a furious polishing, handed it back again.
The Judge looked at it with a smile of approbation, and giving a glance
around the table as much as to say, "You see how I choose to have things
done," applied himself to his breakfast.
The trail for Fort Winnebago then led from the shore opposite Butte des
Morts, through _Ma-zhee-gaw-gaw_ swamp, and past Green Lake, and it was
well for the Judge that his horses stood waiting for him to "mount and
away" as early as possible after breakfast, or I am afraid the story I
should have been tempted to tell would have made his ride an
uncomfortable one throughout the day.
We had hardly finished breakfast when our hunter, who had received the
ammunition, returned, bringing with him about fifty fine ducks, which he
had shot in little more than an hour. From that time until the close of
our journey our supply of these delicate birds was never wanting.