Henry left here a few days since, accompanied by Paquette; they met the Sauks near the Wisconsin, on the 21st.  A battle ensued, in which upwards of fifty of the enemy were killed—­our loss was one killed, and eight wounded.  The citizens are well pleased that all this has been accomplished without any aid from Old White Beaver.[56] The war must be near its close, for the militia and regulars together will soon finish the remaining handful of fugitives.”

The arrival of Lieutenant Hunter, who had obtained leave of absence in order to escort us, soon put all things in train for our return to Fort Winnebago.  No Mackinac boat was to be had, but in lieu of it a Durham boat was procured.  This is of a description longer and shallower than the other, with no convenience for rigging up an awning, or shelter of any kind, over the centre; but its size was better fitted to accommodate our party, which consisted, besides our own family, of Lieutenant and Mrs. Hunter, the wife of another officer now stationed at Port Winnebago, and our cousin, Miss Forsyth.  We made up our minds, as will be supposed, to pretty close quarters.

Our crew was composed partly of Frenchmen and partly of soldiers, and, all things being in readiness, we set off one fine bright morning in the latter part of July.

Our second day’s alternate rowing and poling brought us to the Grande Chute early in the afternoon.

Here, it is the custom to disembark at the foot of the rapids, and, ascending the high bank, walk around the fall, while the men pull the boat up through the foaming waters.

Most of our party had already stepped on shore, when a sudden thought seized one of the ladies and myself.

“Let us stay in the boat,” said we, “and be pulled up the Chute.”  The rest of the company went on, while we sat and watched with great interest the preparations the men were making.  They were soon overboard in the water, and, attaching a strong rope to the bow of the boat, all lent their aid in pulling as they marched slowly along with their heavy load.  The cargo, consisting only of our trunks and stores, which were of no very considerable weight, had not been removed.

We went on, now and then getting a tremendous bump against a hidden rock, and frequently splashed by a shower of foam as the waves roared and boiled around us.

The men kept as close as possible to the high, precipitous bank, where the water was smoothest.  At the head of the cordel was a merry simpleton of a Frenchman, who was constantly turning his head to grin with delight at our evident enjoyment and excitement.

We were indeed in high glee.  “Is not this charming?” cried one.  “I only wish——­”

The wish, whatever it was, was cut short by a shout and a crash.  “Have a care, Robineau!  Mind where you are taking the boat!” was the cry, but it came too late.  More occupied with the ladies than with his duty, the leader had guided us into the midst of a sharp, projecting tree that hung from the bank.  The first tug ripped out the side of the boat, which immediately began to fill with water.