A friend sends me a prospectus for a paper under the title of “Washington Republican,” which has just been established at the seat of government, earnestly advocating the election of John C. Calhoun for the presidency in 1824.

4th.  A chief of a shrewd and grave countenance, and more than the ordinary cast of thought, visited me this morning, and gave me his hand, with the ordinary salutation of Nosa (my father).  The interpreter introduced him by the name of Little Pine, or Shingwalkonee, and as a person of some consequence among the Indians, being a meta, a wabeno, a counselor, a war chief, and an orator or speaker.  He had a tuft of beard on his chin, wore a hat, and had some other traits in his dress and gear which smacked of civilization.  His residence is stated to be, for the most part, on the British side of the river, but he traces his lineage from the old Crane band here.  I thought him to be a man of more than the ordinary Indian forecast.  He appeared to be a person who, having seen all the military developments on these shores during the last month, thought he would cross over the channel with a retinue, to see what the Chemoquemon [20] was about.  He had also, perhaps, a shrewd Indian inkling that some presents might be distributed here during the season.

[Footnote 20:  Chemoquemon, an American; from Gitchee great, moquemon a knife.]

10th.  A strange-looking Indian came in from the forest wearing an American silver medal.  He looked haggard and forsaken.  It will be recollected by those who have read my Narrative Journal of the expedition of 1820, that Governor Cass became lost and entangled among the sharp mountainous passes of the River Ontonagon, in his attempts to reach the party who had, at an early part of the day, gone forward to the site of the Copper Rock; and that he bestowed a medal on a young Chippewa, who had rendered his party and himself services during its stay on that river.  This individual was among the earlier visitors who presented himself at my office.  He recognized me as one of the party on that occasion.  He was introduced to me by the name of Wabish-ke-pe-nace, or the White Bird, and seemed to rouse up from a settled look of melancholy when referring to those events.  It appears that his conduct as a guide on that occasion had made him unpopular with the band, who told him he had received an honor for that which should be condemned.  That it was a crime to show the Americans their wealth, and the Great Spirit did not approve it.  His dress had something wild and forlorn, as well as his countenance.