When we arose in the morning, we were made fully alive to the perils by which we had been surrounded.

At least fifty trees, the giants of the forest, lay prostrate within view of the tent.
When we had taken our scanty breakfast, and were mounted and ready for departure, it was with difficulty we could thread our way, so completely was it obstructed by the fallen trunks.
Our Indian guide had joined us at an early hour, and after conducting us carefully out of the wood, and pointing out to us numerous bee-trees,[18] for which he said that grove was famous, he set off at a long trot, and about nine o'clock brought us to _Piche's_, a log cabin on a rising ground, looking off over the broad prairie to the east.

We had hoped to get some refreshment here, Piche being an old acquaintance of some of the party; but, alas! the master was from home.

We found his cabin occupied by Indians and travellers--the latter few, the former numerous.
There was no temptation to a halt, except that of warming ourselves at a bright fire that was burning in the clay chimney.

A man in Quaker costume stepped forward to answer our inquiries, and offered to become our escort to Chicago, to which place he was bound--so we dismissed our Indian friend, with a satisfactory remuneration for all the trouble he had so kindly taken for us.
A long reach of prairie extended from Piche's to the Du Page, between the two forks of which, Mr.Dogherty, our new acquaintance, told us, we should find the dwelling of a Mr.Hawley, who would give us a comfortable dinner.
The weather was intensely cold; the wind, sweeping over the wide prairie with nothing to break its force, chilled our very hearts.