up, on the other side of the canal, lie the low white buildings of the
American fort. That fortification, with its sentries and the national
flag floating over the chief bastion, looked gay enough in the rays of
the fast-setting sun. After remaining several hours to coal, we left the
little village in the darkness, and when day dawned again found ourselves
out in the broad waters of Lake Superior--called by the Indians "the
Great Sea" (_Kichee Kumma_). For hours no land was to be seen on
either side, but we were visited by two little birds, quivering with
cold, weary from their long flight, almost too timid to alight upon our
boat, yet too tired to resist the resting-place. Poor little wanderers!
many a lonely emigrant, who had left all he loved behind to try his
fortune in an unknown land, felt sympathy for them.

Seeing nothing but water and sky to interest us without, we turned our
attention to our fellow-passengers within. At one end of the long saloon
a zealous Cecilite, the centre of a mixed group, was "improving the
occasion," Bible in hand--exhorting his hearers to turn from the error of
their ways, and denouncing the world and its wickedness, as exemplified
in the group of card-players close by. Their "I'll order it up!" "Pass!"
"I'll play it alone!" mingled with the grave accents of the preacher,
whose exhortations were answered by shouts of laughter and ringing glees
from the other end of the boat, where stood the piano and its satellites.
In vain the poor Cecilite tried "to stem the torrent" of what he
considered "Satan's doings;" his obstinacy and want of tact only
increased the mischievous delight of his enemies. At the sides of the
saloon small knots of French Canadians chattered merrily; at the top of
the stairs an emigrant or two were allowed to infringe the rule of "no
deck passengers," because of the crowd on board. Poor things! One did not
wonder that they escaped gladly from the jarring sounds and offensive
smells below.