Launching the canoes.--Flat Mouth and White Cloud again.--An inspiring scene.--Farewell to Leech Lake.--Up the Kabekanka River.--Dinner at Lake Benedict.--Difficult navigation.--A peaceful haven.--Supper and contentment.--Lake Garfield.-- Preparations for first portage.--Utter exhaustion.--Encampment for the night.--The cavalry column.--Lake George and Lake Paine.--The Naiwa River.--Six miles from Itasca.--Camping on the Minnesota watershed.--A startling discovery.--Rations giving out.--Ammunition gone.--Arrival at Lake Itasca. The following day, July seventeenth, was Sunday, and Captain Glazier, being a guest of Rev. Edwin Benedict, felt some delicacy in commencing his journey on the Sabbath. Mr. Benedict, however, greatly to his relief, not only decided that there could be nothing objectionable in his doing so, but also offered to launch his canoe and bid him God-speed. In fact, Mr. Benedict had done all in his power to alleviate the discomfort of his stay, by placing at his service the only "civilized" bed the village possessed, but now Bishop Whipple was hourly expected to arrive in the course of his regular visitations to the missionary posts he had established, and the Captain was not inclined to monopolize a luxury which doubtless the Bishop would appreciate as much as himself. Accordingly, early in the morning, which proved to be clear and beautiful, the explorers met on the shore of the lake, preparatory to their embarkation. A large number of Indians had assembled to see them off. Flat Mouth was there, watching his white brothers with interest as they stepped cautiously into the canoes, for Captain Glazier had not forgotten his first experience with one of these light vessels. White Cloud, also, was there, chief of the Mississippis, thinking, mayhap, somewhat sadly of the time when the great "Father of Waters" was known only to the Red Man who hunted on its banks, or glided swiftly down its stream, in happy ignorance of the days when city after city should line its shores, and steamboats force their devious way through its waters. There, too, were the friends and relatives of Chenowagesic and the other guides, watching with characteristic gravity the final preparations. Rev. Mr. Benedict, the only white man on the beach other than the explorers, stood ready to launch the canoe. [Illustration: Captain Glazier Embarking For The Headwaters Of The Mississippi.] It was a scene well worthy the painter's most cunning skill--the beautiful lake, the wigwams dotting its shores here and there, the dark green of the forest in the background, the Indians with their bright red blankets adding bits of vivid coloring to the scene, and, at the water's edge, Captain Glazier, upright and soldierly in bearing, ready to step into his canoe and start forth in search of the mysterious springs which had hitherto baffled the investigations of all previous explorers.