There being no hotel in the place, we are put to this strait. Possibly old Nokomis, who is cooking breakfast in a little iron pot with a big piece knocked out of its rim, who squats on the ground and picks out the most savory morsels with her fingers, would share her meal with us, but she does not invite us to breakfast, nor do we care to make ourselves at home in the wigwam. But there is rare hospitality awaiting us. A gentleman who lives in a large white house in the centre of the town, Captain Vaughn, though not through with his morning nap when we steam up the harbor, is wide awake in an instant. I wonder if there is another housewife in the United States who would provide such an ample repast as that which, in an incredibly short space of time, appeared on the table, prepared by Mrs. Vaughn,--such a tender steak, mealy potatoes, nice biscuit, delicious coffee, berries and sweet milk; a table-cloth as white as the driven snow; and the hostess the picture of health, presiding at the table with charming ease and grace, not at all disturbed by such an avalanche of company at such an hour! Where the breakfast came from, or who cooked it so quickly, is an unexplained mystery; and then there was a basketful of lunch put up by somebody for us to devour while coasting about the bay, and the hostess the while found time to talk with us, to sit down to the parlor organ and charm us with music. So much for a Bayfield lady, born in Ohio, of stanch Yankee stock. Embarking on Captain Vaughn's little steam-yacht, we go dancing along the shores, now running near the bluffs to examine the sandstone formation like that of the Hudson, or looking up to the tall pines waving their dark green plumes, or beholding the lumbermen felling the old monarchs and dragging them with stout teams to the Bayfield saw-mills. A run of about fifteen miles brings us to the city of Ashland, situated at the head of the bay. It makes quite an imposing appearance when you are several miles distant, and upon landing you find that you have been _imposed_ upon. Somebody came here years ago, laid out a town, surveyed the lots, cut out magnificent avenues through the forest, found men who believed that Ashland was to be a great city, who bought lots and built houses; but the crowd did not come; the few who came soon turned their backs upon the place, leaving all their improvements. One German family remains. Two pigs were in possession of a parlor in one deserted house, and a cow quietly chewing her cud in another. A mile east of Ashland is Bay City, another place planned by speculators, but which probably might be purchased at a discount.