Testament, sentences of familiar conversation, and Indian prayers and
collects. With the help of this little book I was able to make myself
understood by the Indians, and soon became almost independent of an
interpreter. I had a plan of the Indian Reserve, and usually steered my
way through the bush with my compass, taking little notice of the rough
corduroy tracks and Indian trails which never seemed to lead to the
right place.

One of these expeditions I will briefly describe:

I wanted to find old Widow Kwakegwah's house, which lay about two
miles back through the bush in a south-easterly direction. Wagimah was
with me and, leaving the river road, we plunged back at once into the
bush without either path or track, and steered our way by my compass.
Sometimes it lay through a thick growth of young saplings, which bent
aside as we pushed our way through; sometimes over a mass of decaying
logs and upheaved roots; sometimes through long grass and swamp up to
our knees; occasionally we came to a fallen tree, which we had to
clamber over or under. Once or twice we came upon a little log hut
standing in the midst of a small clearing, sometimes empty with door
bolted, at other times showing signs of occupation. Into one of these
we entered; it was a tiny log shanty, with a patch of Indian corn and
potatoes enclosed by a snake fence. We pushed open the door, a fire was
burning on the hearth, and in a corner was a blanket enveloping
something that might be human. I told Wagimah to touch it, he did so,
and the bundle moved, part of the blanket wriggled back and a woman's
face appeared. She said she was sick, and that no one had been to visit
her. We staid and had a little conversation, and then as it was getting
late, hurried on to Widow Kwakegwah's. The old woman, who had a very
pleasant, honest-looking face, gave us quite a hearty reception. I got