The only substitute we could obtain was a bag of dark looking, bitter flour.

With this provision for our whole party, we were forced to be contented, and we left the Hillock of the Dead, feeling that it had been indeed the grave of our hopes.
By dint of good rowing, our crew soon brought us to the spot where the river enters that beautiful sheet of water, Winnebago Lake.

Though there was but little wind when we reached the lake, the Frenchmen hoisted their sail, in hopes to save themselves the labor of rowing across; but in vain did they whistle, with all the force of their lungs--in vain did they supplicate _La Vierge_, with a comical mixture of fun and reverence.

As a last resource, it was at length suggested by some one that their only chance lay in propitiating the goddess of the winds with an offering of some cast-off garment.
Application was made all round by Guardapie, the chief spokesman of the crew.

Alas! not one of the poor voyageurs could boast a spare article.