Arriving at Williamston, I asked him to show me the hotel and mills. He says, 'Is it possible that people will thus deceive a man?' there being nothing there but a little shanty on the north side of the river, and that desolate. We sat down and ate a little bread and meat, and then started for Okemos, found nothing there but the camp of old Okemos.
We went on to Grand River, where the Cedar empties into it, arriving there a little before sunset. We found an Indian camp in the forks of the rivers, and made our way across to it by the help of their canoe. The old squaw, with whom I was somewhat acquainted, got us some boiled corn and venison, and a good cup of tea, of which I partook heartily. Mr. T. only drank a little of his tea and ate his meat and bread.
The squaw spread down two large bear skins and a white blanket, and says, 'Shemokemen sleep there,' and we laid down. About midnight, the wolves began to howl. Mr. T. soon got up and began to shake me, saying, 'Don't you hear those terrible animals?'
I told him to lie down; they would not hurt us, but he walked the tent, and looked out often to see if the wolves were not in sight.
Tomorrow, the next morning's activities . . .