After descending the river more than twenty miles we landed at _la Butte des Morts_ to cook breakfast. Immediately on landing my attention was attracted by a small white flag hanging from a high pole. I went to It and found a recent Indian grave, very neatly and carefully covered with boards. The Indian had been struck dead by lightning a few days previous. Is this the interpretation of my dream, or must I follow my fears to St. Mary's, to witness some of our family suffering on the bed of sickness. God, in his mercy, forbid!
This day was comparatively cool. On the previous days it was my custom to sit in my shirt and sleeves. To-day, I kept on my surtout all day, and my cloak over it until twelve. Such sudden changes in the temperature of the seasons are the reproach of our climate. My health has been better than for a few days back, owing, I believe, solely to my abstinence both yesterday and the day before. How much illness would be prevented by a proper attention to regimen. It is now eight o'clock in the evening, I am sitting in my tent with a candle standing on a rush mat, and my black trunk for a writing desk. I am interrupted by the news that my supper is ready to be brought in. How happy I should be if you could participate in my frugal meal. In the language of Burns--
_29th_. I encamped last night, at the foot of the Winnebago Rapids, one mile below Winnebago Lake. I found the rapids of Fox River, which begin here, more difficult to pass than on our ascent, the water being much lower. We were necessarily detained many hours, and most of the men compelled to walk. About six o'clock, P.M. we reached the upper part of the settlement of Green Bay. I stopped a few moments at Judge Doty's, and also a little below at Major Brevoort's, the Indian agent of the post. We then proceeded to the lower settlements, and encamped near the fort at Arndt's. Dr. Wheaton met me on the beach, with several others. I supped and lodged at Arndt's, having declined Dr. Wheaton's polite invitation to sup, and take a bed with him. At tea I saw Mrs. Cotton, whom you will recollect as Miss Arndt, and was introduced to her husband, Lieutenant Cotton, U.S.A. I was also introduced to the Rev. Mr. Nash, a clergyman of the Protestant Episcopal order, on missionary duty here. I went to my room, as soon as I could disentangle myself from these greetings, with a bundle of papers, to read up the news, and was truly pained to hear of the death of my early friend Colonel Charles G. Haines of New York, an account of which, with the funeral honors paid to him, I read in the papers.