The village of Petite Corbeau consists of twelve large lodges, which are said to give shelter to two hundred souls. They plant corn, and cultivate vines and pumpkins. They sallied from their lodges on seeing us approach, and, gathering along the margin of the river, fired a _feu de joie_ on our landing. The chief was among the first to greet us. He is a man below the common size, but brawny and well proportioned, and, although above fifty years of age, retains the look and vigor of forty. He invited us to his lodge--a spacious building about sixty feet by thirty, substantially constructed of logs and bark. Being seated, he addressed himself to His Excellency Gov. Cass. He said that he was glad to see him in his village. That, in his extensive journey, he must have suffered many hardships. He must also have noticed much of the Indian mode of life, and of the face of the country, which would enable him to see things in their proper light. He was glad that he had not, like others who had lately visited the country, passed by his village without calling. He referred, particularly, to the military force sent to establish a garrison at St. Peter's, the year before, who had passed up on the other side of the river. He acquiesced in the treaty that had been recently concluded with the Chippewas. He referred to a recent attack of a party of Fox Indians on their people, on the head waters of the St. Peter's. He said it was dastardly, and that, if that _little_ tribe should continue their attacks, they would at length drive him into anger, and compel him to do a thing he did not wish.