The village stood encircled by an amphitheatre of hills, so precipitous, and with gorges so steep and narrow, that it seemed almost impossible to scale them, even on horseback; how, then, could we hope to accomplish the ascent of the four-wheeled carriage?  This was the point now under discussion between my husband and the Pottowattamies.  There was no alternative but to make the effort, selecting the pass that the inhabitants pointed out as the most practicable.  Petaille went first, and I followed on my favorite Jerry.  It was such a scramble as is not often taken,—­almost perpendicularly, through what seemed the dry bed of a torrent, now filled with loose stones, and scarcely affording one secure foothold from the bottom to the summit!  I clang fast to the mane, literally at times clasping Jerry around his neck, and, amid the encouraging shouts and cheers of those below, we at length arrived safely, though nearly breathless, on the pinnacle, and sat looking down, to view the success of the next party.

The horses had been taken from the carriage, the luggage it contained being placed upon the shoulders of some of the young Indians, to be toted up the steep.  Ropes were now attached to its sides, and a regular bevy of our red friends, headed by our two Frenchmen, placed to man them.  Two or three more took their places in the rear, to hold the vehicle and keep it from slipping backwards—­then the labor commenced.  Such a pulling! such a shouting! such a clapping of hands by the spectators of both sexes! such a stentorian word of command or encouragement from the bourgeois!  Now and then there would be a slight halt, a wavering, as if carriage and men were about to tumble backwards into the plain below; but no—­they would recover themselves, and after incredible efforts they too safely gained the table-land above.  In process of time all were landed there, and, having remunerated our friends to their satisfaction, the goods and chattels were collected, the wagon repacked, and we set off for our encampment at Turtle Creek.

The exertions and excitement of our laborious ascent, together with the increasing heat of the sun, made this afternoon’s ride more uncomfortable than anything we had previously felt.  We were truly rejoiced when the whoop of our guide, and the sight of a few scattered lodges, gave notice that we had reached our encamping-ground.  We chose a beautiful sequestered spot by the side of a clear, sparkling stream, and, having dismounted and seen that our horses were made comfortable, my husband, after giving his directions to his men, led me to a retired spot where I could lay aside my hat and mask and bathe my flushed face and aching head in the cool, refreshing waters.  Never had I felt anything so grateful, so delicious.  I sat down, and leaned my head against one of the tall, overshadowing trees, and was almost dreaming, when summoned to partake of our evening meal.

The Indians had brought us, as a present, some fine brook trout, which our Frenchmen had prepared in the most tempting fashion, and before the bright moon rose and we were ready for oar rest, all headache and fatigue had alike disappeared.