RICE LAKE, or MONOMINEKANING.—­As we came in sight of the village, every canoe was put in the best trim for display.  The flags were hoisted; the military canoes paid all possible devotion to Mars.  There were five canoes.  I led the advance, the men striking up one of their liveliest songs—­which by the way was some rural ditty of love and adventure of the age of Louis XIV.—­and we landed in front of the village with a flourish of air (purely a matter of ceremony) as if the Grand Mogul were coming, and they would be swallowed up.  I immediately sent to the chiefs, to point out the best place for encamping, which they did.

COUNCIL AT RICE LAKE.—­As soon as my tent was pitched, Neenaba, Wabezhais, and their followers, to the number of twenty-two persons, visited me, were received with a shake of the hand and a “bon-jour,” and presented with tobacco.  Notice was immediately given that I would meet them in council at the firing of signal guns by the military.  They attended accordingly.  This council was preliminary, as I intended to halt here for a couple of days, in order to put new bottoms to my canoes.  I wished, also, some geographical and other information from them, prior to my final council.  Neenaba agreed to draw a map of the lower part of the river, &c., denoting the lines drawn by the treaty of Prairie du Chien, and the sites of the saw-mills erected, without leave, by squatters.

NATIVE SPEECHES.—­Next day (8th) the final council was held, at the usual signal.  Wabezhais and Neenaba were the principal speakers.  They both disclaimed setting themselves up against the authority or wishes of the United States.  They knew the lines, and meant to keep them.  But they were on the frontiers.  The Sioux came out against them.  They came up the river.  They had last year killed a man and his two sons in a canoe, on the opposite banks of Rice Lake, where they lay concealed.  Left to protect themselves, they had no choice.  They must strike, or die.  Their fathers had left them councils, which, although young and foolish, they must respect.  They did not disregard the voice of the President.  They were glad to listen to it.  They were pleased that he had honored them with this visit, and this advice.  This is the substance of both speeches.

Neenaba complained that the lumbermen had built mills on their land, and cut pine logs, without right.  That the Indians got nothing but civil treatment, when they went to the mills, and tobacco.  This young chief appears to have drawn a temporary notoriety upon himself by his position in the late war party, which is, to some extent, fallacious.  His modesty is, however, a recommendation.  I proposed to have invested him with a second class medal and flag; but he brought them to me again, laying them down, and saying that he perceived that it would produce dissatisfaction and discord in his tribe; and that they were not necessary to insure his good influence and friendship for the