and Lake Winnibigoshish bands are some three hundred miles further north.  The agency of the Chippewas is on the reservation referred to, a little north of the Crow Wing River, and six miles distant from this town.  To come down more to particulars, however, and adopt words which people here would use, I might say that the agency is on Gull River, a very clear and pretty stream, which flows from a lake of that name, into the Crow Wing.  I passed the agency yesterday, and two miles beyond, in order to visit Pug-o-na-ke-shick, or Hole-in-the-day, the principal and hereditary chief of the Chippewas.  Mr. Herriman, the agent, resides at the agency, in compliance with the regulation of the Indian bureau, which requires agents to reside among the Indians.  I strongly suspect there are many people who would think it unsafe to travel alone among the Chippewas.  But people who live about here would ridicule the idea of being afraid of violence or the slightest molestation from them, unless indeed the fellows were intoxicated.  For my part, a walk on Boston common on a summer morning could not seem more quiet and safe than a ramble on horseback among the homes of these Indians.  I spoke to a good many.  Though naturally reserved and silent, they return a friendly salutation with a pleasant smile.

Their old costume is still retained as a general thing.  The blanket is still worn instead of coats.  Sometimes the men wear leggins, but often go with their legs naked.  A band is generally worn upon the head with some ornament upon it.  A feather of the war eagle worn in the head-band of a brave, denotes that he has taken the scalp of an enemy or performed some rare feat of daring.  An Indian does not consider himself in full dress without his war hatchet or weapons.  I meet many with long-stemmed pipes, which are also regarded as an ornamental part of dress.  They appear pleased to have anything worn about them attract attention.  They are of good size, taller than the Winnebagoes, and of much lighter complexion than tribes living five hundred miles further south.  Herein the philosopher on the cooking of men is confirmed.  Their hair is black, long, and straight; and some are really good-looking.  There are but few who still paint.  Those in mourning paint their faces black.  What I have seen of their houses raises high hopes of their advancement in civilization.  We can now begin to lay aside the word lodge and say house.  Over a year ago, Mr. Herriman promised every one a good cooking stove who would build himself a comfortable house.  This promise had a good effect, for several houses were built.  But the want of windows and several other conveniences, which are proper fixtures, gives their dwellings a desolate appearance to one who looks to a higher standard of comfort.  Of course I saw a few of the men at the store (for there is a store at the agency), spending their time, as too many white men do in country villages.  Eight miles beyond the agency, on Gull Lake, is a mission.