With this passport, Matthieu at once started for the American border. He would become citizen of the United States. At the line, however, where it was necessary to present his pass, the officer looked at him sharply; “You do not correspond with the description;” he said, “this calls for black eyes, yours are blue”—this inadvertence probably being due to the fact that his eyes were of that changeable color that turns dark under excitement. “Can’t help the description,” replied the young refugee, “that is not my fault.” The officer then eyed his red and black diamond squared plaid, which was the patriot uniform, and which Matthieu had not thought of as unsafe while he had his passport. But instead of detaining him, the officer said, “Well, get along with you; the sooner the country is rid of you fellows, the better”—probably little dreaming that the blue-eyed patriot was to turn up a few years later in Oregon to confront the British authority and help that important section of North America over to liberty as defined in the American Constitution. Coming to Albany, New York, (1838), he soon found employment as clerk in a store. To him, his patron was honorable; but not altogether so to his creditors, as he left the city suddenly and secretly. Matthieu was entrusted with the care of his family, and was instructed to bring them to the new scene of operations, being Milwaukee, Wisconsin. This, in course of time, led the young man to that then far western land (May, 1839). From Milwaukee he went to St. Louis, being attracted toward that old French city (August, 1839). There he found service very soon with the American Fur Company—then officered almost exclusively by Frenchmen. His first outing was to Fort Pierre (October, 1839), on the Missouri River, among the Sioux and Dakotas—the Sioux Indians being the finest wild men that he has ever seen, whom he describes as “a great nation, fine, noble fellows.” During this period he encountered many hardships, and also much to interest a light-hearted Gallic youth. He remembers one expedition on which provisions became reduced, the daily allowance being two biscuits to the man and two ounces of dried Buffalo beef to two comrades. This lean fare was eked out, as they marched, by eating the frosted rosebuds of the Missouri meadows. As an incident of a trader’s life among the Sioux, he recalls with much _gusto_ the solemn feasts of the chiefs, which it would have been the height of impropriety not to attend, and which must be observed with all _punctillio_, or spoil all the bargaining. These were dog feasts, and consisted principally in eating a plateful of soup of tender dog meat boiled to a paste, into which red buffalo berries were sprinkled. To leave any of this delicacy uneaten would be a breach of etiquette too serious to allow; and the higher the trader was held in estimation, the more liberal the share placed upon his plate. Not only to a refined palate was the dog paste