"One season, when the war party returned, she could not distinguish his familiar and loving war shout. Her spirit, told her that he had gone to the Spirit-Land of the west. It was so: an enemy's arrow had pierced his breast, and after his body was placed leaning against a tree, his face fronting his enemies, he died; but ere he died he wished the mourning warriors to remember him to the sweet maid of his heart. Thus he died far away from home and the friends he loved. "Me-she-ne-mock-e-nung-o-qua's heart hushed its beatings, and all the warm emotions of that heart, were chilled and dead. The moving, living spirit of her beloved Ge-niw-e-gwon, she witnessed continually beckoning her to follow him to the happy hunting grounds of spirits in the west--he appeared to her in human shape, but was invisible to others of his tribe. "One morning her body was found mangled at the foot of the bluff. The soul had thrown aside its covering of earth, and had gone to join the spirit of her beloved Ge-niw-e-gwon, to travel together to the land of spirits." Another point of interest and curiosity is the Devil's Punch Bowl, situated south from the gateway, as you enter the farm of the late J. Dousman, Esq. This Island which rises like a gem on the brow of the lakes, is favored by the clearest and most healthful atmosphere, and washed by the purest and most transparent water in the world, imparting the most pleasurable sensations imaginable. When this enchanting region shall become fully known, Saratoga, Cape May, and Mount Washington will be forgotten by those who fly from the heat and dust of our inland cities, to breathe a pure air and drink health-giving waters. A traveler in 1854, thus describes this interesting locality, "Everything on the island is a curiosity, the roads or streets that wind around the harbor or among the grove-like forests of the island, are naturally pebbled and macadamized, the buildings are of every style, from an Indian lodge to an English house, the island is covered with charming natural scenery, from the beautiful to the grand, and one may spend weeks constantly finding new objects of interest, and new scenes of beauty. The steamers all call here on their way to and from Chicago, and hundreds of small sail vessels in the fishing trade have here their head quarters. Drawn upon the pebbled beach, or gliding about the bay, are bark canoes, and the far-famed Mackinaw boats, without number. These last are the perfection of light sail boats, and I have often been astonished at seeing them far out in the lake, beating up against winds that were next to gales." We are indebted to Mr. Johnston for the following official list, giving the number of sail vessels and steamers that have passed through the Straits of Mackinaw during the _day time_, as reported to the Revenue department, for six months, ending September 30th, 1859.