Monday's
afternoon brought us to Aitkin, so that we had covered one hundred and
fifty miles of sluggish channel, at low summer tide, in three working
days. We had been four weeks beyond possibility of home-tidings, and we
swooped down upon the disciple of Morse in that far-away village with
work that kept him clicking for an hour. We were handsomely taken in by
Warren Potter, a pioneer and an active and intelligent factor in the
business of that region, in whose tasteful home we for the first time
in a month sat down and ate in Christian fashion under a civilized
roof. Having lost a week in the farther wilderness, we decided to take
the rail to Minneapolis, that we might enjoy the beautiful river thence
to Lake Pepin, yet reach our homes within the appointed time. Half a
day was enjoyed at Brainerd, the junction of the Northern Pacific main
line with the St. Paul branch, and the most important town between Lake
Superior and the Missouri. It is beautifully built and picturesquely
scattered among the pines upon the Mississippi's eastern bank, not far
above Crow Wing River. Thence we were carried over the splendid
railway, passing the now abandoned Fort Ripley, winding along or near
to the river and across the wheat-fields, through the busy and
beautiful city of mills, below St.
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