The next morning, we continued our journey across the lake and on to Hoyt's camp, where, it is needless to say, he was glad to see some white men. Their visits were rare at his camp. Filling our packs with things the cook had ordered, we started on our return journey, arriving at the Indian camp at nightfall. As we left the ice to go up to the wigwams, we met the mother of the young warrior who had made his first appearance the preceding night, going down to the lake with a pail in each hand to bring some water to her wigwam. The healthy young child was brought into the wigwam and shown to the members of our party, who complimented the young mother and wished that he might grow to be a brave, worthy to be chieftain of their tribe. That evening a feast had been prepared at the chief's wigwam, in honor of the birth of the child, to which our party was invited. The menu consisted principally of boiled rice, boiled muskrat, and boiled rabbit. The three principal foods having been cooked in one kettle and at the same time, it was served as one course, but the guests were invited to repeat the course as often as they desired. This invitation was accepted by some, while others seemed satisfied to take the course but once. I have always found the hospitality of the Chippewa Indian unsurpassed, and more than once, in my frontier experiences, I have found that hospitality a godsend to me and to my party. CHAPTER XVI. The Entire Party Moves to Swan River. It Was in the month of February, 1875, when the surveying party completed its work east of Bow String Lake, and finished, one afternoon, closing its last lines on the Third Guide Meridian. At the camp, that afternoon, preparations were being made for a general move of considerable distance. It is not always possible for the frontiersman to reach his goal on the day that he has planned to do so. An instance in point occurred next day, when our surveying party was moving out to Grand Rapids. The snow was deep and the weather intensely cold when we broke camp that morning, hoping before nightfall to reach one of Hill Lawrence's logging camps. Some Indians had been hired to help pack out our belongings. Our course lay directly through the unbroken forest, without trail or blazed line, and the right direction was kept only by the constant use of the compass. All were on snowshoes, and those of the party who could be depended upon to correctly use the compass, took turns in breaking road. Each compassman would break the way through the snow for half an hour, then another would step in and break the way for another half hour, and he in turn would be succeeded by a third compassman. This change of leadership was continued all the way during that day.