It was who should be called the ugliest.
We left amid the good wishes and laughter of our few remaining acquaintances.

Our wagon had been provided with a pair of excellent travelling horses, and, sister Margaret and myself being accommodated with the best pacers the country could afford, we set off in high spirits towards the Aux Plaines--our old friend, Billy Caldwell (the Sau-ga-nash), with our brother Robert, and Gholson Kercheval, accompanying us to that point of our journey.
There was no one at Barney Lawton's when we reached there, save a Frenchman and a small number of Indians.

My sister and I dismounted, and entered the dwelling, the door of which stood open.

Two Indians were seated on the floor, smoking.

They raised their eyes as we appeared, and never shall I forget the expression of wonder and horror depicted on the countenances of both.