9th.  The schooner “White Pigeon,” (the name of an Indian chief,) enters the harbor, with a mail from Detroit.  “A mail! a mail!” is the cry.  Old Saganosh and five Indian families come in.  The Indians start up from their wintering places, as if from a cemetery.  They seem almost as lean and hungry as their dogs—­for an Indian always has dogs—­and, if they fare poor, the dogs fare poorer.

Resumed my preparations at the garden hot-beds.

The mail brought me letters from Washington, speaking of political excitements.  The project for an Indian academy is bluffed off, by saying it should come through the Delegate.  Major Whiting writes that he is authorized to have a road surveyed from Saginaw to Mackinack.

10th.  Engaged at my horticultural mound.  The weather continues mild.

11th.  Transplanting cherry trees.

12th.  Complete hot-bed, and sow it in part.

14th.  The calmness and mildness of the last few days are continued.  Spring advances rapidly.

15th.  Mild, strong wind from the west, but falls at evening.  Write to Washington respecting an Indian academy.

Walking with the Rev. Wm. M. Ferry through the second street of the village (M.), leading south, as we came near the corner, turning to Ottawa Point, he pointed out to me, on the right hand, half of a large door, painted red, arched and filled with nails, which tradition asserts was the half of the door of the Roman Catholic church at old Mackinack.  The fixtures of the church, as of other buildings, were removed and set up on this spot.  I afterwards saw the other half of the door standing against an adjoining house.

16th.  Wind westerly.  Begin to enlarge piazza to the agency.  A party of Beaver Island Indians come in, and report the water of the Straits as clear of ice, and the navigation for some days open.

The schooner “President,” from Detroit, dropped anchor in the evening.

17th.  The schooners “Lawrence,” “White Pigeon,” and “President,” left the harbor this morning, on their way to various ports on Lake Michigan, and we are once more united to the commercial world, on the great chain of lakes above and below us.  The “Lawrence,” it will be remembered, entered the harbor on the 14th of March, and has waited thirty-two days for the Straits to open.

18th.  Wind N.E., chilly.  It began to rain after twelve o’clock A.M., which was much wanted by the gardens, as we have had no rain for nearly a month.  All this while the sun has poured down its rays on our narrow pebbly plain under the cliffs, and made it quite dry.

I was present this morning at the Mission, at the examination of the Metif boy Thomas Shepard, and was surprised at the recklessness and turpidity of his moral course, as disclosed by himself, and, at the announcement of the names of his abettors.