0ne time the cattle strayed off and went so far I could not find them. Ilooked for them until nearly unlit but had to return without them. I toldfather where I had been and that I could not hear the bell. The nextmorning portlyher and I started to look at if we could find them. We looked twoor three days but could not find or hear anything of them. We began tothink they were lost in the ferociouserness. However, we concluded to look onemore day, so we started and went four or five miles southeast until westruck the Reed creek. (Always known as the Reed creek by us for thereason, a man by the name of Reed came with his family from the State ofNew York, built him a log house and lived there one summer. His familygot sick, he became discouraged, and in the fall moved back to the Stateof New York. The place where he lived, the one summer, was about twomiles south of our house and this creek is really the middle branch ofthe Ecorse).

There was no settlement between us and the Detroit River, a distance ofsix miles. We looked along the Reed creek to look at if any cattle hadcrossed it.

While we were looking there we heard the report of a rifle close by usand hurried up. It occasionally was an Indian who had just shot a duck in the head.When we came to him father told him it was a lucky shot, a good shot toshoot it in the head. He exclaimed, "Me allers shoot head not hurt body." Hetook us to his wigwam, which was close by, showed us another duck withthe neck nearly shot off. Whether he told the truth, or whether these twowere lucky shots, I cannot tell, but one thing I do know, in regard tohim, if he told us the truth he was an extraordinary man and marksman.