I took a few hours to go with Captain Morrison to the barrack-like building of the Iowas to purchase some of their dried corn. The house was some one hundred and twenty feet long by twenty-four feet wide. A space of eight feet wide was sunk to within ten feet of each end, and within this sunken space the family fires were built. A strong shelving about four feet wide and three feet above the general floor ran along each side. This could have been used for family beds, but was used for food stuffs, among which the dried corn was in evidence, both by sight and odor. The kernels were in great variety of color, and we found this grain a pleasant substitute for vegetables on the way. It was hard to say from the manner of the Indian women, who sold small amounts of this corn, whether the offers to purchase were considered intrusive or not. I think the Indian must get his unsurprisable nature from his mother. I also got a few hours of looking for prairie chickens and flushed a few. The noise they made in getting to wing was indication that their nesting season was on, and where the last season's grass had not been burned the cover was excellent.
After making the crossing of Wolf River we were detained for some days near the agency by the almost constant rains. The weather, however, was so warm that I had become indifferent to being wet. A nice gentleman, named Bishop, beginning his second trip to secure the life-preserving quality of the arid country air, here died of the continued dampness. He had a costly and complete outfit, the care of which, together with his burial, delayed us somewhat. The missionary preached to those who would listen, and gave bibles to those who would take them; while at no great distance others were noisily racing horses with Indians of their sort. This occurred Sunday, May 12.
