Whilst we were completing our preparations, another half-breed came in, in a great state of excitement, with the news that a war party of Sioux were lurking in the neighbourhood. He had been out looking for elk, when he suddenly observed several Indians skulking in the brushwood; from their paint and equipment he knew them to be Sioux on the war-path. They did not appear to have perceived him, and he turned and fled, escaping to the settlement unpursued. We did not place much reliance on his story, or the various reports we had heard, and set out the next day alone. How fearfully true these rumours of the hostility of the Sioux, which we treated so lightly at the time, turned out to be, is already known to the reader. As we got ready to start, the Iroquois sat on the bank, smoking sullenly, and showing neither by word nor sign any intention of accepting our offer of the previous day. Milton and Rover occupied the smaller canoe, while Treemiss and Cheadle navigated the larger one. At first we experienced some little difficulty in steering, and were rather awkward in the management of a paddle. A birch-bark canoe sits so lightly on the water, that a puff of wind drives it about like a walnut-shell; and with the wind dead ahead, paddling is very slow and laborious. But we got on famously after a short time, Milton being an old hand at the work, and the others accustomed to light and crank craft on the Isis and the Cam. We glided along pleasantly enough, lazily paddling or floating quietly down the sluggish stream. The day was hot and bright, and we courted the graceful shade of the trees which overhung the bank on either side. The stillness of the woods was broken by the dip of our paddles, the occasional splash of a fish, or the cry of various birds. The squirrel played and chirruped among the branches of the trees, the spotted woodpecker tapped on the hollow trunk, while, perched high on the topmost bough of some withered giant of the forest, the eagle and the hawk uttered their harsh and discordant screams. Here and there along the banks swarms of black and golden orioles clustered on the bushes, the gaily-plumed kingfisher flitted past, ducks and geese floated on the water, and the long-tailed American pigeon darted like an arrow high over the tree-tops. As night approached, a hundred owls hooted round us; the whip-poor-will startled us with its rapid, reiterated call; and the loon--the most melancholy of birds--sent forth her wild lamentations from some adjoining lake. Thoroughly did we enjoy these wild scenes and sounds, and the strange sensation of freedom and independence which possessed us.