"There was an Indian girl in the convent," said Abbie, "who was engaged to be married to one of her own tribe, and a few days before the wedding we took up a collection among the girls and bought her a trousseau. It consisted of a very stylish poke bonnet trimmed with ostrich tips, a purple Irish poplin dress with ten flounces bound with black velvet, a black lace shawl and a liberal supply of underclothing. The poor girl was immensely pleased with the gift, and wore a perpetual grin from the time it was presented to her till she left. "The day after the wedding the young bridegroom was seen parading the streets dressed in the bride's clothes. The ribbons of her bonnet were roughly twisted under his chin, the lace shawl hung over one shoulder, the hoopskirts were wabbling about in a most extraordinary manner. He seemed much pleased with the amusement it created and laughed as heartily as any of the crowd. His love of adornment had so triumphed over his new-found affection that he left his dusky bride disrobed to weep over it." "Take heed, take heed, Miss Wright, lest a similar fate be yours," said the young officer. Abbie looked puzzled, but made no response. "Tell us something about your experiences on the way down," she said, addressing her brother, whom she had seen but once since his arrival. "We were seven weeks coming down on the raft." "A raft--a raft? What is that?" interrupted the officer. "It is an immense flotilla," said the Chief, "made up of numerous sections or cribs of timber, lashed together by green withes, which are easily detached from the main flotilla or raft, and which are capable of being rowed by long rude oars. We constructed on one of these cribs a sandy hearth, above which we made a roof with no walls, which served as a protection from rain. Six little cabins, not unlike dog-kennels, were formed of broad strips of bark, in which each man found a bed. As we drifted down the river cheer after cheer went up from the settlers who had gathered on the point to see us off."* * In the list of provisions for the journey the Chief mentions, in his diary of June 11th, 1806, "The bread of 3½ bushels of wheat £1 6s. 3d." "All went well until we reached the Carillon Rapids. We succeeded in getting nineteen cribs over safely, and Martin and Bearie were steering the next, when a gale sprang up from the south and it blew them so near to the north shore at the head of the bay that Captain Johnson, whom we hired to help us over the rapids, thought best to send a canoe to take them off, but he was too late to overtake them. You had better tell the rest of the story," he said, turning to Bearie, who sat with his hands in his pockets leaning against a tree.