The events have begun. We struck a nice little run of rapids, and just when we got to the deepest part, the canoe slewed, hit a rock, and then over it went, and we with it. The next thing I knew, someone was dragging me up, blinking, choking, spluttering. I opened my eyes to behold my rescuer, the Prince! Don’t you think, A. D., I should be properly grateful to him? He saved my life--without an instant’s hesitation, Aunt says. So you see you owe your future wife’s very existence to him. I’ve _got_ to be sweet to him, haven’t I? It is now near the end of our first day in the wilderness. I do nothing but think how good it will be to see you again. I would like so much to be in New York to greet you on the dock, but instead I’m paddling with the Prince. First day’s remarks by the party: Sybil: “Oh! Ah! Heaven!” Checkers: “Bully!” Prince: “Bozhe moi!” (Whatever that means.) Aunty: “This box has got soap! Not eggs!” Polly: “I’m game for the next event!” For supper we had beans, flapjacks, and tea. For beds, fir balsam. I think that Aunt and Boris prefer the comforts of home. The Prince certainly has her ear, and when I surprise them in one of their long and confidential interviews, they act like a couple of arch-conspirators. But he is very nice just now and it is my last chance for a fling, isn’t it? * * * * * We had a carry to Lake Kootchie, the second day, then a long portage and four miles of paddling to the end of Big Smoke this morning, and ended the day at Lake Bear. Checkers and Boris played cards on making camp, and after gambling for a while, it looked as if the Prince saw things were not going his way, so he stopped to arrange his fishing tackle. Checkers screwed up his eyebrows at me and winked. For supper--pea-soup, fish, and prunes. Second Day’s remarks: Sybil: “The loons are so jolly. I want to take one home.” Checkers: “Every minute I like it better.” Aunt: “The beds are so hard--sno-r-r-r-r-oh!” Prince (gazing soulfully at me): “To rescue beautiful ladies--ah, it is heaven.” Confession: I let the Prince kiss my hand. After all, he saved my life, you know. You weren’t here and I had to have somebody kiss it. * * * * * Breaking camp at seven-thirty a short but pretty portage brought us to the three Bonnecherre and then to Lake Rod and Gun where we are now tenting. Butter-ball ducks flew by on the way, and we saw a few partridges and deer, but not much big game, for moose are farther north. Last night was an eventful one; wolves howled, the wind blew, the rain descended. Suddenly our tent fell down amid loud cries for help. Boris came to our rescue, but tripped over a rope and stood on his head from whence issued a flood of Russian. Which, if I could have understood it, would probably have paralyzed me for a week. Later a muskrat came and ate up all our chocolate. Third Day’s remarks at supper: