discovering a wigwam smoke, I saw, running down the side of a hill on
an island a quarter of a mile away, a string of Indians waving wildly
at us and signaling us to come ashore. After twelve weeks, in which
not a human being aside from our own party had been seen, we had
reached the dwellers of the wilderness, and with what pleasure and
alacrity we accepted the invitation to join them can be imagined.



CHAPTER XIII

DISASTER IN THE RAPIDS

It was a hunting party--four men and a half-grown boy--with two canoes
and armed with rifles. The Indians gave us the hearty welcome of the
wilderness and received us like old friends. First, the chief, whose
name was Toma, shook our hand, then the others, laughing and all
talking at once in their musical Indian tongue. It was a welcome that
said: "You are our brothers. You have come far to see us, and we are
glad to have you with us."

After the first greetings were over they asked for _stemmo,_ and I
gave them each a plug of tobacco, for that is what stemmo means. They
had no pipes with them, so I let them have two of mine, and it did my
heart good to see the look of supreme satisfaction that crept into
each dusky face as its possessor inhaled in long, deep pulls the smoke
of the strong tobacco. It was like the food that comes to a half-
starved man. After they had had their smoke, passing the pipes from
mouth to mouth, I brought forth our kettle. In a jiffy they had a
fire, and I made tea for them, which they drank so scalding hot it