Morning broke with unclouded splendour, and we rose from our grassy couch with alacrity to resume our sport; but I will not again drag my patient reader through the Point of Marsh.

In the afternoon, having spent our ammunition, we launched our light canoe, and after an hour's paddle up the river, arrived, laden with game and splashed with mud, at York Factory.

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Note 1. Quicksilver easily freezes; and it has frequently been run into a bullet mould, exposed to the cold air till frozen, and in this state rammed down a gun barrel, and fired through a thick plank.

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Note 2. The thousands of frogs that fill the swamps of America whistle or chirp so exactly like little birds, that many people, upon hearing them for the first time, have mistaken them for the feathered songsters of the groves. Their only fault is that they scarcely ever cease singing.

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Note 3. The traveller sits, or rather lies in it, wrapped in buffalo robes; while the dogs are urged forward by a man who walks behind, and prevents the machine from upsetting, which it is very liable to do, from the inequalities of the ground over which it sometimes passes.



CHAPTER NINE.

VOYAGE FROM YORK FACTORY TO NORWAY HOUSE IN A SMALL INDIAN CANOE— DEPARTURE—LIFE IN THE WOODS—DIFFICULTIES OF CANOE NAVIGATION—OUTWIT THE MOSQUITOES—"LEVE! LEVE! LEVE!"—MUSIC IN THE POT AND ON THE ORGAN.

On the afternoon of the 20th of June 1845, I sat in my room at York Fort, musing on the probability of my being dispatched to some other part of the Company's wide dominions.

The season approached when changes from one part of the country to another might be expected, and boats began to arrive from the interior. Two years of fun and frolic had I spent on the coast, and I was beginning to wish to be sent once more upon my travels, particularly as the busy season was about to commence, and the hot weather to set in.

As I sat cogitating, my brother scribblers called me to join them in a short promenade upon the wharf, preparatory to resuming our pens. Just as we reached it, a small Indian canoe from the interior swept round the point above the factory, and came rapidly forward, the sparkling water foaming past her sharp bow as she made towards the landing.

At almost any time an arrival causes a great deal of interest in this out-of-the-way place; but an arrival of this sort—for the canoe was evidently an express—threw us into a fever of excitement, which was greatly increased when we found that it contained dispatches from headquarters; and many speculative remarks passed among us as we hurried up to our hall, there to wait in anxious expectation for a letter or an order to appear instanter before Mr Grave. Our patience was severely tried, however, and we began to think there was no news at all, when Gibeault, the butler, turned the corner, and came towards our door. We immediately rushed towards it in breathless expectation, and a row of eager faces appeared as he walked slowly up and said, "Mr Grave wishes to see Mr Ballantyne immediately." On hearing this I assumed an appearance of calm indifference I was far from feeling, put on my cap, and obeyed the order.

Upon entering Mr Grave's presence, he received me with a benign, patronising air, and requested me to be seated. He then went on to inform me that letters had just arrived, requesting that I might be sent off immediately to Norway House, where I should be enlightened as to my ultimate destination. This piece of news I received with mingled surprise and delight, at the same time exclaiming "Indeed!" with peculiar emphasis; and then, becoming suddenly aware of the impropriety of the expression, I endeavoured to follow it up with a look of sorrow at the prospect of leaving my friends, combined with resignation to the will of the Honourable Hudson Bay Company, in which attempt I failed most signally. After receiving orders to prepare for an immediate start, I rushed out in a state of high excitement, to acquaint my comrades with my good fortune. On entering the hall, I found them as anxious to know where I was destined to vegetate next winter, as they before had been to learn who was going off. Having satisfied them on this point, or rather told them as much as I knew myself regarding it, I proceeded to pack up.

It happened just at this time that a brigade of inland boats was on the eve of starting for the distant regions of the interior; and as the little canoe, destined to carry myself, was much too small to take such an unwieldy article as my "cassette," I gladly availed myself of the opportunity to forward it by the boats, as they would have to pass Norway House en route. It would be endless to detail how I spent the next three days: how I never appeared in public without walking very fast, as if pressed with a superhuman amount of business; how I rummaged about here and there, seeing that everything was prepared; looking vastly important, and thinking I was immensely busy, when in reality I was doing next to nothing. I shall, therefore, without further preface, proceed to describe my travelling equipments.

The canoe in which I and two Indians were to travel from York Factory to Norway House, a distance of nearly three hundred miles, measured between five and six yards long, by two feet and a half broad in the middle, tapering from thence to nothing at each end. It was made of birch bark, and could with great ease be carried by one man. In this we were to embark, with ten days' provisions for three men, three blankets, three small bundles, and a little travelling-case belonging to myself; besides three paddles wherewith to propel us forward, a tin kettle for cooking, and an iron one for boiling water. Our craft being too small to permit my taking the usual allowance of what are called luxuries, I determined to take pot-luck with my men, so that our existence for the next eight or ten days was to depend upon the nutritive properties contained in a few pounds of pemmican, a little biscuit, one pound of butter, and a very small quantity of tea and sugar. With all this, in addition to ourselves, we calculated upon being pretty deeply laden.

My men were of the tribe called Swampy Crees—and truly, to judge merely from appearance, they would have been the very last I should have picked out to travel with; for one was old, apparently upwards of fifty, and the other, though young, was a cripple. Nevertheless, they were good, hard-working men, as I afterwards experienced. I did not take a tent with me, our craft requiring to be as light as possible, but I rolled up a mosquito-net in my blanket, that being a light affair of gauze, capable of compression into very small compass. Such were our equipments; and on the 23rd of June we started for the interior.

A melancholy feeling came over me as I turned and looked for the last time upon York Factory, where I had spent so many happy days with the young men who now stood waving their handkerchiefs from the wharf. Mr Grave, too, stood among them, and as I looked on his benevolent, manly countenance, I felt that I should ever remember with gratitude his kindness to me while we resided together on the shores of Hudson Bay. A few minutes more, and the fort was hid from my sight for ever.

My disposition is not a sorrowful one; I never did and never could remain long in a melancholy mood, which will account for the state of feeling I enjoyed half an hour after losing sight of my late home. The day was fine, and I began to anticipate a pleasant journey, and to speculate as to what part of the country I might be sent to. The whole wide continent of North America was now open to the excursive flights of my imagination, as there was a possibility of my being sent to any one of the numerous stations in the extensive territories of the Hudson Bay Company. Sometimes I fancied myself ranging through the wild district of Mackenzie River, admiring the scenery described by Franklin and Back in their travels of discovery; and anon, as the tales of my companions occurred to me, I was bounding over the prairies of the Saskatchewan in chase of the buffalo, or descending the rapid waters of the Columbia to the Pacific Ocean. Again my fancy wandered, and I imagined myself hunting the grizzly bear in the woods of Athabasca—when a heavy lurch of the canoe awakened me to the fact that I was only ascending the sluggish waters of Hayes River.

The banks of the river were covered with huge blocks of ice, and scarcely a leaf had as yet made its appearance. Not a bird was to be seen, except a few crows and whisky-jacks, which chattered among the branches of the trees; and Nature appeared as if undecided whether or not she should take another nap, ere she bedecked herself in the garments of spring. My Indians paddled slowly against the stream, and I lay back, with a leg cocked over each gunwale, watching the sombre pines as they dropped slowly astern. On our way we passed two landslips which encroached a good deal on the river, each forming a small rapid round its base. The trees with which they had formerly been clothed were now scattered about in chaotic confusion, leafless, and covered with mud; some more than half buried, and others standing with their roots in the air. There is a tradition among the natives that a whole camp of Indians was overwhelmed in the falling of these slips.

A good deal of danger is incurred in passing up these rivers, owing to the number of small landslips which occur annually. The banks, being principally composed of sandy clay, are loosened, and rendered almost fluid in many places, upon the melting of the snow in spring; and the ice, during the general disruption, tears away large masses of the lower part of the banks, which renders the superincumbent clay liable to slip, upon the first heavy shower of rain, with considerable force into the stream.

About sixteen miles from York Factory we ran against a stone, and tore a small hole in the bottom of our canoe. This obliged us to put ashore immediately, when I had an opportunity of watching the swiftness and dexterity of the Indians in repairing the damage. A small hole, about three inches long and one inch wide, had been torn in the bottom of the canoe, through which the water squirted with considerable rapidity. Into this hole they fitted a piece of bark, sewed it with wattape (the fibrous roots of the pine-tree), made a small fire, melted gum, and plastered the place so as to be effectually water-tight, all in about the space of an hour.

During the day we passed a brigade of boats bound for the factory; but being too far off, and in a rapid part of the river we did not hail them. About nine o'clock we put ashore for the night, having travelled nearly twenty miles. The weather was pleasantly cool, so that we were free from mosquitoes. The spot we chose for our encampment was on the edge of a high bank, being the only place within three miles where we could carry up our provisions; and even here the ascent was bad enough. But after we were up, the top proved a good spot, covered with soft moss, and well sheltered by trees and bushes. A brook of fresh water rippled at the foot of the bank, and a few decayed trees afforded us excellent firewood. Here, then, in the bosom of the wilderness, with the silvery light of the moon for our lamp, and serenaded by a solitary owl, we made our first bivouac. Supper was neatly laid out on an oil-cloth, spread before a blazing fire. A huge junk of pemmican graced the centre of our rustic table, flanked by a small pile of ship's biscuit on one side, and a lump of salt butter on the other; while a large iron kettle filled with hot water, slightly flavoured with tea-leaves, brought up the rear. Two tin pots and a tumbler performed outpost duty, and were soon smoking full of warm tea. We made an excellent supper, after which the Indians proceeded to solace themselves with a whiff, while I lay on my blanket enjoying the warmth of the fire, and admiring the apparently extreme felicity of the men, as they sat, with half-closed eyes, watching the smoke curling in snowy wreaths from their pipes, and varying their employment now and then with a pull at the tin pots, which seemed to afford them extreme satisfaction. In this manner we lay till the moon waned; and the owl having finished his overture, we rolled ourselves in our blankets, and watched the twinkling star, till sleep closed our eyelids.

Next morning, between two and three o'clock, we began to stretch our limbs, and after a few ill-humoured grunts prepared for a start. The morning was foggy when we embarked and once more began to ascend the stream. Everything was obscure and indistinct till about six o'clock, when the powerful rays of the rising sun dispelled the mist, and Nature was herself again. A good deal of ice still lined the shores; but what astonished me most was the advanced state of vegetation apparent as we proceeded inland. When we left York Factory, not a leaf had been visible; but here, though only thirty miles inland, the trees, and more particularly the bushes, were well covered with beautiful light green foliage, which appeared to me quite delightful after the patches of snow and leafless willows on the shores of Hudson Bay.

At eight o'clock we put ashore for breakfast—which was just a repetition of the supper of the preceding night, with this exception, that we discussed it a little more hurriedly—and then proceeded on our way.

Shortly afterwards we met a small canoe, about the size of our own, which contained a postmaster and two Indians, on their way to York Factory with a few packs of otters. After five minutes' conversation we parted, and were soon out of sight of each other. The day, which had hitherto been agreeable, now became oppressively sultry: not a breath of wind ruffled the water; and as the sun shone down with intense heat from a perfectly cloudless sky, it became almost insufferable. I tried all methods to cool myself, by lying in every position I could think of, sometimes even hanging both legs and arms over the sides of the canoe and trailing them through the water. I had a racking headache, and, to add to my misery, as the sun sank the mosquitoes rose and bit ferociously. The Indians, however, did not appear to suffer much, being accustomed, no doubt, to these little annoyances, much in the same way as eels are to being skinned.

In the afternoon we arrived at the forks of Hayes and Steel Rivers, and ascended the latter, till the increasing darkness and our quickening appetites reminded us that it was time to put ashore. We made a hearty supper, having eaten nothing since breakfast; dinner, while travelling in a light canoe, being considered quite superfluous.

Our persevering foes, the mosquitoes, now thought it high time to make their supper also, and attacked us in myriads whenever we dared to venture near the woods; so we were fain to sleep as best we could on the open beach, without any fire—being much too warm for that. But even there they found us out, and most effectually prevented us from sleeping.

On the morning of the 25th, we arose very little refreshed by our short nap, and continued our journey. The weather was still warm, but a little more bearable, owing to a light, grateful breeze that came down the river. After breakfast—which we took at the usual hour, and in the usual way—while proceeding slowly up the current, we descried, on rounding a point, a brigade of boats close to the bank, on the opposite side of the river; so we embarked our man, who was tracking us up with a line (the current being too rapid for the continued use of the paddle), and crossed over to see who they were. On landing, we found it was the Norway House brigade, in charge of George Kippling, a Red River settler. He shook hands with us, and then commenced an animated discourse with my two men in the Indian language, which being perfectly unintelligible to me, I amused myself by watching the operations of the men, who were in the act of cooking breakfast.

Nothing can be more picturesque than a band of voyageurs breakfasting on the banks of a pretty river. The spot they had chosen was a little above the Burntwood Creek, on a projecting grassy point, pretty clear of underwood. Each boat's crew—of which there were three—had a fire to itself, and over these fires were placed gipsy-like tripods, from which huge tin kettles depended; and above them hovered three volunteer cooks, who were employed stirring their contents with persevering industry. The curling wreaths of smoke formed a black cloud among the numerous fleecy ones in the blue sky, while all around, in every imaginable attitude, sat, stood, and reclined the sunburnt, savage-looking half-breeds, chatting, laughing, and smoking in perfect happiness. They were all dressed alike, in light cloth capotes with hoods, corduroy trousers, striped shirts open in front, with cotton kerchiefs tied sailor-fashion loosely round their swarthy necks. A scarlet worsted belt strapped each man's coat tightly to his body, and Indian moccasins defended their feet. Their head-dresses were as various as fanciful— some wore caps of coarse cloth; others coloured handkerchiefs, twisted turban-fashion round their heads; and one or two, who might be looked upon as voyageur-fops, sported tall black hats, covered so plenteously with bullion tassels and feathers as to be scarcely recognisable.

The breakfast consisted solely of pemmican and flour, boiled into the sort of thick soup dignified by the name of robbiboo. As might be expected, it is not a very delicate dish, but is, nevertheless, exceedingly nutritious; and those who have lived long in the country, particularly the Canadians, are very fond of it. I think, however, that another of their dishes, composed of the same materials, but fried instead of boiled, is much superior to it. They call it richeau; it is uncommonly rich, and very little will suffice for an ordinary man.

After staying about a quarter of an hour, chatting with Kippling about the good folk of Red River and Norway House, we took our departure, just as they commenced the first vigorous attack upon the capacious kettles of robbiboo.

Shortly after, we arrived at the mouth of Hill River, which we began to ascend. The face of the country was now greatly changed, and it was evident that here spring had long ago dethroned winter. The banks of the river were covered from top to bottom with the most luxuriant foliage, while dark clumps of spruce-fir varied and improved the landscape. In many places the banks, which appeared to be upwards of a hundred feet high, ran almost perpendicularly down to the water's edge, perfectly devoid of vegetation, except at the top, where large trees overhung the precipice, some clinging by their roots and ready to fall. In other places the bank sloped from nearly the same height, gradually, and with slight undulations, down to the stream, thickly covered with vegetation, and teeming with little birds, whose merry voices, warbling a cheerful welcome to the opening buds, greatly enhanced the pleasures of the scene.

We soon began to experience great difficulty in tracking the canoe against the rapid stream that now opposed us. From the steepness of the banks in some places, and their being clothed with thick willows in others, it became a slow and fatiguing process for the men to drag us against the strong current; and sometimes the poor Indians had to cling like flies against nearly perpendicular cliffs of slippery clay, whilst at others they tore their way through almost impervious bushes. They relieved each other by turns every hour at this work, the one steering the canoe while the other tracked; and they took no rest during the whole day, except when at breakfast. Indeed, any proposal to do so would have been received by them with great contempt, as a very improper and useless waste of time.

When the track happened to be at all passable, I used to get out and walk, to relieve them a little, as well as to stretch my cramped limbs, it being almost impossible, when there is any luggage in a small Indian canoe, to attain a comfortable position.

At sunset we put ashore for the night, on a point covered with a great number of lopsticks. These are tall pine-trees, denuded of their lower branches, a small tuft being left at the top. They are generally made to serve as landmarks; and sometimes the voyageurs make them in honour of gentlemen who happen to be travelling for the first time along the route—and those trees are chosen which, from their being on elevated ground, are conspicuous objects. The traveller for whom they are made is always expected to acknowledge his sense of the honour conferred upon him by presenting the boat's crew with a pint of grog, either on the spot or at the first establishment they meet with. He is then considered as having paid for his footing, and may ever afterwards pass scot-free.

We soon had our encampment prepared, and the fire blazing: but hundreds of mosquitoes were, as usual, awaiting our arrival, and we found it utterly impossible to sup, so fiercely did they attack us. We at last went to leeward of the fire, and devoured it hastily in the smoke— preferring to risk being suffocated or smoke-dried to being eaten up alive! It was certainly amusing to see us rushing into the thick smoke, bolt a few mouthfuls of pemmican, and then rush out again for fresh air; our hands swinging like the sails of a windmill round our heads, while every now and then, as a mosquito fastened on a tender part, we gave ourselves a resounding slap on the side of the head, which, had it come from the hand of another, would certainly have raised in us a most pugnacious spirit of resentment. In this manner we continued rushing out of and into the smoke till supper was finished, and then prepared for sleep. This time, however, I was determined not to be tormented; so I cut four stakes, drove them into the ground, and threw over them my gauze mosquito-net, previously making a small fire, with wet grass on it, to raise a smoke and prevent intruders from entering while I was in the act of putting it on; then, cautiously raising one end, I bolted in after the most approved harlequinian style, leaving my discomfited tormentors wondering at the audacity of a man who could snore in a state of unconcerned felicity in the very midst of the enemy's camp.

On the following morning we started at an early hour. The day was delightfully cool, and mosquitoes were scarce, so that we felt considerably comfortable as we glided quietly up the current. In this way we proceeded till after breakfast, when we came in sight of the first portage, on which we landed. In a surprisingly short time our luggage, etcetera, was pitched ashore, and the canoe carried over by the Indians, while I followed with some of the baggage; and in half an hour we were ready to start from the upper end of the portage. While carrying across the last few articles, one of the Indians killed two fish called suckers, which they boiled on the spot and devoured immediately.

Towards sunset we paddled quietly up to the "White Mud Portage," where there is a fall, of about seven or eight feet, of extreme rapidity, shooting over the edge in an arch of solid water, which falls hissing and curling into the stream below. Here we intended to encamp. As we approached the cataract, a boat suddenly appeared on the top of it, and shot with the speed of lightning into the boiling water beneath, its reckless crew shouting, pulling, laughing, and hallooing, as it swept round a small point at the foot of the fall and ran aground in a bay or hollow, where the eddying water, still covered with patches of foam after its mighty leap, floated quietly round the shore. They had scarcely landed when another boat appeared on the brink, and, hovering for an instant, as if to prepare itself for the leap, flashed through the water, and the next moment was aground beside the first. In this manner seven boats successively ran the fall, and grounded in the bay.

Upon our arriving, we found them to be a part of the Saskatchewan brigade, on its way to the common point of rendezvous, York Factory. It was in charge of two friends of mine; so I accosted them, without introducing myself, and chatted for some time about the occurrences of the voyage. They appeared a little disconcerted, however, and looked very earnestly at me two or three times. At last they confessed they had forgotten me altogether! And, indeed, it was no wonder, for the sun had burned me nearly as black as my Indian friends, while my dress consisted of a blue capote, sadly singed by the fire; a straw hat, whose shape, from exposure and bad usage, was utterly indescribable; a pair of corduroys, and Indian moccasins; which so metamorphosed me, that my friends, who perfectly recollected me the moment I mentioned my name, might have remained in ignorance to this day had I not enlightened them on the subject.

After supper one of these gentlemen offered me a share of his tent, and we turned in together, but not to sleep; for we continued gossiping till long after the noisy voices of the men had ceased to disturb the tranquillity of night.

At the first peep of day our ears were saluted with the usual unpleasant sound of "Leve! leve! leve!" issuing from the leathern throat of the guide. Now this same "Leve!" is in my ears a peculiarly harsh and disagreeable word, being associated with frosty mornings, uncomfortable beds, and getting up in the dark before half enough of sleep has been obtained. The way in which it is uttered, too, is particularly exasperating; and often, when partially awakened by a stump boring a hole in my side, have I listened with dread to hear the detested sound, and then, fancying it must surely be too early to rise, have fallen gently over on the other side, when a low muffled sound, as if some one were throwing off his blanket, would strike upon my ear, then a cough or grunt, and finally, as if from the bowels of the earth, a low and scarcely audible "Leve! leve!" would break the universal stillness— growing rapidly louder, "Leve! leve! leve!" and louder, "Leve! leve!" till at last a final stentorian "Leve! leve! leve!" brought the hateful sound to a close, and was succeeded by a confused collection of grunts, groans, coughs, grumbles, and sneezes from the unfortunate sleepers thus rudely roused from their slumbers. The disinclination to rise, however, was soon overcome; and up we got, merry as larks, the men loading their boats, while I and my Indians carried our luggage, etcetera, over the portage.

Our troubles now commenced: the longest and most difficult part of the route lay before us, and we prepared for a day of toil. Far as the eye could reach, the river was white with boiling rapids and foaming cascades, which, though small, were much too large to ascend, and consequently we were obliged to make portages at almost every two or three hundred yards. Rapid after rapid was surmounted; yet still, as we rounded every point and curve, rapids and falls rose, in apparently endless succession, before our wearied eyes. My Indians, however, knew exactly the number they had to ascend, so they set themselves manfully to the task. I could not help admiring the dexterous way in which they guided the canoe among the rapids. Upon arriving at one, the old Indian, who always sat in the bow (this being the principal seat in canoe travelling), rose up on his knees and stretched out his neck to take a look before commencing the attempt; and then, sinking down again, seized his paddle, and pointing significantly to the chaos of boiling waters that rushed swiftly past us (thus indicating the route he intended to pursue to his partner in the stern), dashed into the stream. At first we were borne down with the speed of lightning, while the water hissed and boiled to within an inch of the gunwale, and a person unaccustomed to such navigation would have thought it folly our attempting to ascend; but a second glance would prove that our Indians had not acted rashly. In the centre of the impetuous current a large rock rose above the surface, and from its lower end a long eddy ran like the tail of a comet for about twenty yards down the river. It was just opposite this rock that we entered the rapid, and paddled for it with all our might. The current, however, as I said before, swept us down; and when we got to the middle of the stream, we just reached the extreme point of the eddy, and after a few vigorous strokes of the paddles were floating quietly in the lee of the rock. We did not stay long, however—just long enough to look for another stone; and the old Indian soon pitched upon one a few yards higher up, but a good deal to one side; so, dipping our paddles once more, we pushed out into the stream again, and soon reached the second rock. In this way, yard by yard, did we ascend for miles, sometimes scarcely gaining a foot in a minute, and at others, as a favouring bay or curve presented a long piece of smooth water, advancing more rapidly. In fact, our progress could not be likened to anything more aptly than to the ascent of a salmon as he darts rapidly from eddy to eddy, taking advantage of every stone and hollow that he finds: and the simile may be still further carried out; for, as the salmon is sometimes driven back tail foremost in attempting to leap a fall, so were we, in a similar attempt, driven back by the overpowering force of the water.

It happened thus: We had surmounted a good many rapids, and made a few portages, when we arrived at a perpendicular fall of about two feet in height, but from the rapidity of the current it formed only a very steep shoot. Here the Indians paused to breathe, and seemed to doubt the possibility of ascent; however, after a little conversation on the subject, they determined to try it, and got out their poles for the purpose (poles being always used when the current is too strong for the paddles). We now made a dash, and turning the bow to the current, the Indians fixed their poles firmly in the ground, while the water rushed like a mill-race past us. They then pushed forward, one keeping his pole fixed, while the other refixed his a little more ahead. In this way we advanced inch by inch, and had almost got up—the water rushing past us in a thick, black body, hissing sharply in passing the side of our canoe, which trembled like a reed before the powerful current—when suddenly the pole of the Indian in the stern slipped; and almost before I knew what had happened, we were floating down the stream about a hundred yards below the fall. Fortunately the canoe went stern foremost, so that we got down in safety. Had it turned round even a little in its descent, it would have been rolled over and over like a cask. Our second attempt proved more successful; and after a good deal of straining and puffing we arrived at the top, where the sight of a longer stretch than usual of calm and placid water rewarded us for our exertions during the day.

In passing over a portage we met the English River brigade; and after a little conversation, we parted. The evening was deliciously cool and serene as we glided quietly up the now tranquil river. Numbers of little islets, covered to the very edge of the rippling water with luxuriant vegetation, rose like emeralds from the bosom of the broad river, shining brightly in the rays of the setting sun; sometimes so closely scattered as to veil the real size of the river, which, upon our again emerging from among them, burst upon our delighted vision a broad sheet of clear pellucid water, with beautiful fresh banks covered with foliage of every shade, from the dark and sombre pine to the light drooping willow; while near the shore a matronly-looking duck swam solemnly along, casting now and then a look of warning to a numerous family of little yellow ducklings that frisked and gambolled in very wantonness, as if they too enjoyed and appreciated the beauties of the scene. Through this terrestrial paradise we wended our way, till rapids again began to disturb the water, and a portage at last brought us to a stand. Here we found McNab, who had left York Factory three days before us with his brigade, just going to encamp; so we also brought up for the night. When supper was ready, I sent an invitation to McNab to come and sup with me, which he accepted, at the same time bringing his brother with him. The elder was a bluff, good-natured Red River settler, with whom I had become acquainted while in the colony; and we chatted of bygone times and mutual acquaintances over a cup of excellent tea, till long after the sun had gone down, leaving the blazing camp-fires to illuminate the scene.

Next morning we started at the same time with the boats; but our little canoe soon passed them in the rapids, and we saw no more of them. Our way was not now so much impeded by rapids as it had hitherto been; and by breakfast-time we had surmounted them all and arrived at the Dram-stone, where we put ashore for our morning meal. In the morning I shot a duck, being the first that had come within range since I left York Factory. Ducks were very scarce, and the few that we did see were generally accompanied by a numerous offspring not much bigger than the eggs which originally contained them. While taking breakfast we were surprised by hearing a quick rushing sound a little above us, and the next moment a light canoe came sweeping round a point and made towards us. It was one of those called "north canoes," which are calculated to carry eight men as a crew, besides three passengers. The one now before us was built much the same as an Indian canoe, but somewhat neater, and ornamented with sundry ingenious devices painted in gaudy colours on the bows and stern. It was manned by eight men and apparently one passenger, to whom I hallooed once or twice; but they took me, no doubt, for an Indian, and so passed on without taking any notice of us. As the noble bark bounded quickly forward and was hid by intervening trees, I bent a look savouring slightly of contempt upon our little Indian canoe, and proceeded to finish breakfast.

A solitary north canoe, however, passing thus in silence, can give but a faint idea of the sensation felt on seeing a brigade of them arriving at a post after a long journey. It is then that they appear in wild perfection. The voyageurs upon such occasions are dressed in their best clothes; and gaudy feathers, ribbons, and tassels stream in abundance from their caps and garters. Painted gaily, and ranged side by side, like contending chargers, the light canoes skim swiftly over the water, bounding under the vigorous and rapid strokes of the small but numerous paddles, while the powerful voyageurs strain every muscle to urge them quickly on. And while yet in the distance, the beautifully simple and lively yet plaintive paddling song, so well suited to the surrounding scenery, and so different from any other air, breaks sweetly on the ear; and one reflects, with a kind of subdued and pleasing melancholy, how far the singers are from their native land, and how many long and weary days of danger and of toil will pass before they can rest once more in their Canadian homes. How strangely, too, upon their nearer approach, is this feeling changed for one of exultation, as the deep and manly voices swell in chorus over the placid waters, while a competition arises among them who shall first arrive; and the canoes dash over the water with arrow-speed to the very edge of the wharf, where they come suddenly, and as by magic, to a pause. This is effected by each man backing water with his utmost force; after which they roll their paddles on the gunwale simultaneously, enveloping themselves in a shower of spray as they shake the dripping water from the bright vermilion blades. Truly it is an animating, inspiriting scene, the arrival of a brigade of light canoes.

Our route now lay through a number of small lakes and rivers, with scarcely any current in them; so we proceeded happily on our way with the cheering prospect of uninterrupted travelling. We had crossed Swampy Lake, and, after making one or two insignificant portages, entered Knee Lake. This body of water obtained its name from turning at a sharp angle near its centre, and stretching out in an opposite direction from its preceding course; thus forming something like a knee. Late in the evening we encamped on one of the small islands with which it is here and there dotted. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the view we had of the lake from our encampment. Not a breath of wind stirred its glassy surface, which shone in the ruddy rays of the sun setting on its bosom in the distant horizon; and I sat long upon the rocks admiring the lovely scene, while one of my Indians filled the tea-kettle, and the other was busily engaged in skinning a minx for supper. Our evening meal was further enriched by the addition of a great many small gulls' eggs, which we had found on an island during the day—which, saving one or two that showed evident symptoms of being far advanced towards birdhood, were excellent.

On the following morning the scene was entirely changed. Dark and lowering clouds flew across the sky, and the wind blew furiously, with a melancholy moaning sound, through the trees. The lake, which the night before had been so calm and tranquil, was now of a dark leaden hue, and covered with foaming waves. However, we determined to proceed, and launched our canoe accordingly; but soon finding the wind too strong for us, we put ashore on a small island and breakfasted. As the weather moderated after breakfast, we made another attempt to advance. Numerous islets studded the lake, and on one of them we landed to collect gulls' eggs. Of these we found enough; but among them were a number of little yellow gulls, chattering vociferously, and in terrible consternation at our approach, while the old ones kept uttering the most plaintive cries overhead. The eggs were very small, being those of a small species of gull which frequents those inland lakes in great numbers. The wind again began to rise; and after a little consultation on the subject we landed, intending to spend the remainder of the day on shore.

We now, for the first time since leaving York Factory, prepared dinner, which we expected would be quite a sumptuous one, having collected a good many eggs in the morning; so we set about it with alacrity. A fire was quickly made, the tea-kettle on, and a huge pot containing upwards of a hundred eggs placed upon the fire. These we intended to boil hard and carry with us. Being very hungry, I watched the progress of dinner with much interest, while the Indians smoked in silence. While sitting thus, my attention was attracted by a loud whistling sound that greatly perplexed me, as I could not discover whence it proceeded—I got up once or twice to see what it could be, but found nothing, although it sounded as if close beside me. At last one of the Indians rose, and, standing close to the fire, bent in a very attentive attitude over the kettle; and, after listening a little while, took up one of the eggs and broke it, when out came a young gull with a monstrous head and no feathers, squeaking and chirping in a most indefatigable manner! "So much for our dinner!" thought I, as he threw the bird into the lake, and took out a handful of eggs, which all proved to be much in the same condition. The warmth of the water put life into the little birds, which, however, was speedily destroyed when it began to boil. We did not despair, nevertheless, of finding a few good ones amongst them; so, after they were well cooked, we all sat round the kettle and commenced operations. Some were good and others slightly spoiled, while many were intersected with red veins, but the greater part contained boiled birds. The Indians were not nice, however, and we managed to make a good dinner off them after all.

In the afternoon the weather cleared up and the wind moderated, but we had scarcely got under weigh again when a thunderstorm arose and obliged us to put ashore; and there we remained for four hours sitting under a tree, while the rain poured in torrents. In the evening Nature tired of teasing us; and the sun shone brightly out as we once more resumed our paddles. To make up for lost time, we travelled until about two o'clock next morning, when we put ashore to rest a little; and, as the night was fine, we just threw our blankets over our shoulders and tumbled down on the first convenient spot we could find, without making a fire or taking any supper. We had not lain long, however, when I felt a curious chilly sensation all along my side, which effectually awakened me; and then I saw, or rather heard, that a perfect deluge of rain was descending upon our luckless heads, and that I had been reposing in the centre of a large puddle. This state of things was desperate; and as the poor Indians seemed to be as thoroughly uncomfortable as they possibly could be, I proposed to start again—which we did, and before daylight were many a mile from our wretched encampment. As the sun rose the weather cleared up, and soon after we came to the end of Knee Lake and commenced the ascent of Trout River. Here I made a sketch of the Trout Falls while the men made a portage to avoid them. With a few Indians encamped on this portage we exchanged a little pemmican for some excellent white-fish, a great treat to us after living so long on pemmican and tea. Our biscuit had run short a few days before, and the pound of butter which we brought from York Factory had melted into oil from the excessive heat, and vanished through the bottom of the canvas bag containing it. Trout River, though short, has a pretty fair share of falls and rapids, which we continued ascending all day. The scenery was pleasing and romantic; but there was nothing of grandeur in it, the country being low, flat, and, excepting on the banks of the river, uninteresting. In the afternoon we came to the end of this short river, and arrived at Oxford House. We landed in silence, and I walked slowly up the hill, but not a soul appeared. At last, as I neared the house, I caught a glimpse of a little boy's face at the window, who no sooner saw me than his eyes opened to their widest extent, while his mouth followed their example, and he disappeared with a precipitancy that convinced me he was off to tell his mother the astounding news that somebody had arrived. The next moment I was shaking hands with my old friend Mrs Gordon and her two daughters, whom I found engaged in the interesting occupation of preparing tea. From them I learned that they were entirely alone, with only one man to take care of the post—Mr Gordon, whom they expected back every day, having gone to Norway House.

I spent a delightful evening with this kind and hospitable family, talking of our mutual friends, and discussing the affairs of the country, till a tall box in a corner of the room attracted my attention. This I discovered to my delight was no less than a barrel-organ, on which one of the young ladies at my request played a few tunes. Now, barrel-organs, be it known, were things that I had detested from my infancy upwards; but this dislike arose principally from my having been brought up in the dear town o' Auld Reekie, where barrel-organ music is, as it were, crammed down one's throat without permission being asked or received, and even, indeed, where it is decidedly objected to. Everybody said, too, that barrel-organs were a nuisance, and of course I believed them; so that I left my home with a decided dislike to barrel-organs in general. Four years' residence, however, in the bush had rendered me much less fastidious in music, as well as in many other things; and during the two last years spent at York Factory, not a solitary note of melody had soothed my longing ear, so that it was with a species of rapture that I now ground away at the handle of this organ, which happened to be a very good one, and played in perfect tune. "God Save the Queen," "Rule Britannia," "Lord McDonald's Reel," and the "Blue Bells of Scotland" were played over and over again; and, old and threadbare though they be, to me they were replete with endearing associations, and sounded like the well-known voices of long, long absent friends. I spent indeed a delightful evening; and its pleasures were the more enhanced from the circumstance of its being the first, after a banishment of two years, which I had spent in the society of the fair sex.

Next morning was fine, though the wind blew pretty fresh, and we started before breakfast, having taken leave of the family the night before. This was the 1st of July. We had been eight days on the route, which is rather a long time for a canoe to take to reach Oxford House; but as most of the portages were now over, we calculated upon arriving at Norway House in two or three days.

In the afternoon the wind blew again, and obliged us to encamp on a small island, where we remained all day. While there, a couple of Indians visited us, and gave us an immense trout in exchange for some pemmican. This trout I neglected to measure, but I am convinced it was more than three feet long and half a foot broad: it was very good, and we made a capital dinner off it. During the day, as it was very warm, I had a delightful swim in the lake, on the lee of the island.

The wind moderated a little in the evening, and we again embarked, making up for lost time by travelling till midnight, when we put ashore and went to sleep without making a fire or taking any supper. About four o'clock we started again, and in a couple of hours came to the end of Oxford Lake, after which we travelled through a number of small swamps or reedy lakes, and stagnant rivers, among which I got so bewildered that I gave up the attempt to chronicle their names as hopeless; and indeed it was scarcely worth while, as they were so small and overgrown with bulrushes that they were no more worthy of a name in such a place as America than a dub would be in Scotland. The weather was delightfully cool, and mosquitoes not troublesome, so that we proceeded with pleasure and rapidity.

While thus threading our way through narrow channels and passages, upon turning a point we met three light canoes just on the point of putting ashore for breakfast, so I told my Indians to run ashore near them. As we approached, I saw that there were five gentlemen assembled, with whom I was acquainted, so that I was rather anxious to get ashore; but, alas! fortune had determined to play me a scurvy trick, for no sooner had my foot touched the slippery stone on which I intended to land, than down I came squash on my breast in a most humiliating manner, while my legs kept playfully waving about in the cooling element. This unfortunate accident, I saw, occasioned a strange elongation in the lateral dimensions of the mouths of the party on shore, who stood in silence admiring the scene. I knew, however, that to appear annoyed would only make matters worse; so, with a desperate effort to appear at ease, I rose, and while shaking hands with them, expressed my belief that there was nothing so conducive to health as a cold bath in the morning. After a laugh at my expense, we sat down to breakfast. One of the gentlemen gave me a letter from the Governor, and I now learned, for the first time, that I was to take a passage in one of the light canoes for Montreal. Here, then, was a termination to my imaginary rambles on the Rocky Mountains, or on the undulating prairies of the Saskatchewan; and instead of massacring buffalo and deer in the bush, I was in a short time to endeavour to render myself a respectable member of civilised society. I was delighted with the idea of the change, however, and it was with a firmer step and lighter heart that I took my leave and once more stepped into the canoe.

After passing through a succession of swamps and narrow channels, we arrived at Robinson's Portage, where we found voyageurs running about in all directions, some with goods on their backs, and others returning light to the other end of the portage. We found that they belonged to the Oxford House boats, which had just arrived at the other end of the portage, where they intended to encamp, as it was now late. Robinson's Portage is the longest on the route, being nearly a mile in length; and as all the brigades going to York Factory must pass over it twice—in going and returning—the track is beaten into a good broad road, and pretty firm, although it is rather uneven, and during heavy rains somewhat muddy. Over this all the boats are dragged, and launched at the upper or lower end of the portage, as the brigades may happen to be ascending or descending the stream. Then all the cargoes are in like manner carried over. Packs of furs and bales of goods are generally from 80 to 100 pounds weight each; and every man who does not wish to be considered a lazy fellow, or to be ridiculed by his companions, carries two of these pieces, as they are called, across all portages. The boats are capable of containing from seventy to ninety of these pieces, so that it will be easily conceived that a voyageur's life is anything but an easy one; indeed, it is one of constant and harassing toil, even were the trouble of ascending rapid rivers, where he is often obliged to jump into the water at a moment's notice, to lighten the boat in shallows, left entirely out of the question. This portage is made to avoid what are called the White Falls—a succession of cataracts up which nothing but a fish could possibly ascend. After carrying over our canoe and luggage, we encamped at the upper end. The river we commenced ascending next morning was pretty broad, and after a short paddle in it we entered the Echimamis. This is a sluggish serpentine stream, about five or six yards broad, though in some places so narrow that boats scrape the banks on either side. What little current there is runs in a contrary direction to the rivers we had been ascending. Mosquitoes again attacked us as we glided down its gloomy current, and nothing but swamps, filled with immense bulrushes, were visible around. Here, in days of yore, the beaver had a flourishing colony, and numbers of their dams and cuttings were yet visible; but they have long since deserted this much-frequented waste, and one of their principal dams now serves to heighten the water, which is not deep, for the passage of brigades in dry seasons. At night, when we encamped on its low, damp banks, we were attacked by myriads of mosquitoes, so that we could only sleep by making several fires round us, the smoke from which partially protected us. About three o'clock in the morning, which was very warm, we re-embarked, and at noon arrived at the Sea Portage (why so called I know not, as it is hundreds of miles inland), which is the last on the route. This portage is very short, and is made to surmount a pretty large waterfall. Almost immediately afterwards we entered Playgreen Lake, and put ashore on a small island, to alter our attire before arriving at Norway House.

Here, with the woods for our closet, and the clear lake for our basin as well as looking-glass, we proceeded to scrub our sunburnt faces; and in half an hour, having made ourselves as respectable as circumstances would permit, we paddled swiftly over the lake. It is pretty long, and it was not until evening that I caught the first glimpse of the bright spire of the Wesleyan Church at Rossville.

We now approached the termination of our journey, for the time at least; and it was with pleasing recollections that I recognised the well-known rocks where I had so often wandered three years before. When we came in sight of the fort, it was in a state of bustle and excitement as usual, and I could perceive from the vigorous shaking of hands going forward, from the number of voyageurs collected on the landing-place, and of boats assembled at the wharf, that there had just been an arrival. Our poor little canoe was not taken any notice of as it neared the wharf, until some of the people on shore observed that there was some one in the middle of it sitting in a very lazy, indolent position, which is quite uncommon among Indians. In another minute we gained the bank, and I grasped the hand of my kind friend and former chief, Mr Russ.

We had now been travelling twelve days, and had passed over upwards of thirty portages during the voyage.

We ought to have performed this voyage in a much shorter time, as canoes proceed faster than boats, which seldom take longer to complete this voyage than we did; but this arose from our detention during high winds in several of the lakes.



CHAPTER TEN.

VOYAGE TO CANADA BY THE GREAT LAKES OF THE INTERIOR—A BLACK BEAR— HARASSING DETENTIONS—ANOTHER BEAR—MEET DR. RAE, THE ARCTIC DISCOVERER—THE GUIDE'S STORY—MEET INDIANS—RUNNING THE RAPID—LAKE SUPERIOR—A SQUALL—THE OTTAWA—CIVILISED LIFE AGAIN—SLEIGHING IN CANADA.

At Norway House I remained for nearly a month with my old friend Mr Russ, who in a former part of this veracious book is described as being a very ardent and scientific fisher, extremely partial to strong rods and lines, and entertaining a powerful antipathy to slender rods and flies!

Little change had taken place in the appearance of the fort. The clerks' house was still as full, and as noisy, as when Polly told frightful stories to the greenhorns on the point of setting out for the wild countries of Mackenzie River and New Caledonia. The Indians of the village at Rossville plodded on in their usual peaceful way, under the guidance of their former pastor; and the ladies of the establishment were as blooming as ever.

One fine morning, just as Mr Russ and I were sauntering down to the river with our rods, a north canoe, full of men, swept round the point above the fort, and grounded near the wharf. Our rods were soon cast aside, and we were speedily congratulating Mr and Mrs Bain on their safe arrival. These were to be my companions on the impending voyage to Canada, and the canoe in which they had arrived was to be our conveyance.

Mr Bain was a good-natured, light-hearted Highlander, and his lady a pretty lass of twenty-three.

On the following morning all was ready; and soon after breakfast we were escorted down to the wharf by all the people in the fort, who crowded to the rocks to witness our departure.

Our men, eight in number, stood leaning on their paddles near the wharf; and, truly, a fine athletic set of fellows they were. The beautifully-shaped canoe floated lightly on the river, notwithstanding her heavy cargo, and the water rippled gently against her sides as it swept slowly past. This frail bark, on which our safety and progression depended, was made of birch bark sewed together, lined in the inside with thin laths of wood, and pitched on the seams with gum. It was about thirty-six feet long, and five broad in the middle, from whence it tapered either way to a sharp edge. It was calculated to carry from twenty to twenty-five hundredweight, with eight or nine men, besides three passengers, and provisions for nearly a month. And yet, so light was it, that two men could carry it a quarter of a mile without resting. Such was the machine in which, on the 20th August 1845, we embarked; and, after bidding our friends at Norway House adieu, departed for Canada, a distance of nearly two thousand three hundred miles through the uninhabited forests of America.

Our first day was propitious, being warm and clear; and we travelled a good distance ere the rapidly thickening shades of evening obliged us to put ashore for the night. The place on which we encamped was a flat rock which lay close to the river's bank, and behind it the thick forest formed a screen from the north wind. It looked gloomy enough on landing; but, ere long, a huge fire was kindled on the rock, our two snow-white tents pitched, and supper in course of preparation, so that things soon began to wear a gayer aspect. Supper was spread in Mr Bain's tent by one of the men, whom we appointed to the office of cook and waiter. And when we were seated on our blankets and cloaks upon the ground, and Mr Bain had stared placidly at the fire for five minutes, and then at his wife (who presided at the board) for ten, we began to feel quite jolly, and gazed with infinite satisfaction at the men, who ate their supper out of the same kettle, in the warm light of the camp-fire. Our first bed was typical of the voyage, being hard and rough, but withal much more comfortable than many others we slept upon afterwards; and we were all soon as sound asleep upon the rock in the forest as if we had been in feather-beds at home.

The beds on which a traveller in this country sleeps are various and strange. Sometimes he reposes on a pile of branches of the pine-tree; sometimes on soft downy moss; occasionally on a pebbly beach or a flat rock; and not unfrequently on rough gravel and sand. Of these the moss bed is the most agreeable, and the sandy one the worst.

Early on the following morning, long before daylight, we were roused from our slumbers to re-embark; and now our journey may be said to have commenced in earnest. Slowly and silently we stepped into the canoe, and sat down in our allotted places, while the men advanced in silence, and paddled up the quiet river in a very melancholy sort of mood. The rising sun, however, dissipated these gloomy feelings; and after breakfast, which we took on a small island near the head of Jack River, we revived at once, and started with a cheering song, in which all joined. Soon after, we rounded a point of the river, and Lake Winnipeg, calm and clear as crystal, glittering in the beams of the morning sun, lay stretched out before us to the distant and scarcely perceptible horizon. Every pleasure has its alloy, and the glorious calm, on which we felicitated ourselves not a little, was soon ruffled by a breeze, which speedily increased so much as to oblige us to encamp near Montreal Point, being too strong for us to venture across the traverse of five or six miles now before us. Here, then, we remained the rest of the day and night, rather disappointed that delay should have occurred so soon.

Next day we left our encampment early, and travelled prosperously till about noon, when the wind again increased to such a degree that we were forced to put ashore on a point, where we remained for the next two days in grumbling inactivity.

There is nothing more distressing and annoying than being wind-bound in these wild and uninhabited regions. One has no amusement except reading, or promenading about the shore of the lake. Now, although this may be very delightful to a person of a romantic disposition, it was anything but agreeable to us, as the season was pretty far advanced, and the voyage long; besides, I had no gun, having parted with mine before leaving Norway House, and no books had been brought, as we did not calculate upon being wind-bound. I was particularly disappointed at not having brought my gun, for while we lay upon the rocks one fine day, gazing gloomily on the foaming lake, a black bear was perceived walking slowly round the bottom of the bay formed by the point on which we were encamped. It was hopeless to attempt killing him, as Mr Bruin was not fool enough to permit us to attack him with axes. After this a regular course of high winds commenced, which retarded us very much, and gave us much uneasiness as well as annoyance. A good idea of the harassing nature of our voyage across Lake Winnipeg may be obtained from the following page or two of my journal, as I wrote it on the spot:—

Monday, 25th August.—The wind having moderated this morning, we left the encampment at an early hour, and travelled uninterruptedly till nearly eight o'clock, when it began to blow so furiously that we were obliged to run ashore and encamp. All day the gale continued, but in the evening it moderated, and we were enabled to proceed a good way ere night closed in.

Tuesday, 26th.—Rain fell in torrents during the night. The wind, too, was high, and we did not leave our encampment till after breakfast. We made a good day's journey, however, travelling about forty miles; and at night pitched our tents on a point of rock, the only camping-place, as our guide told us, within ten miles. No dry ground was to be found in the vicinity, so we were fain to sleep upon the flattest rock we could find, with only one blanket under us. This bed, however, was not so disagreeable as might be imagined; its principal disadvantage being that, should it happen to rain, the water, instead of sinking into the ground, forms a little pond below you, deep or shallow, according to the hollowness or flatness of the rock on which you repose.

Wednesday, 27th.—Set out early this morning, and travelled till noon, when the wind again drove us ashore, where we remained, in no very happy humour, all day. Mr Bain and I played the flute for pastime.

Thursday, 28th.—The persevering wind blew so hard that we remained in the encampment all day. This was indeed a dismal day; for, independently of being delayed, which is bad enough, the rain fell so heavily that it began to penetrate through our tents; and, as if not content with this, a gust of wind more violent than usual tore the fastenings of my tent out of the ground, and dashed it over my head, leaving me exposed to the pitiless pelting of the storm. Mr Bain's tent, being in a more sheltered spot, fortunately escaped.

Friday, 29th.—The weather was much improved to-day, but it still continued to blow sufficiently to prevent our starting. As the wind moderated, however, in the evening, the men carried the baggage down to the beach, to have it in readiness for an early start on the morrow.

Saturday, 30th.—In the morning we found that the wind had again risen, so as to prevent our leaving the encampment. This detention is really very tiresome. We have no amusement except reading a few uninteresting books, eating without appetite, and sleeping inordinately. Oh that I were possessed of the Arabian Nights' mat, which transported its owner whithersoever he listed! There is nothing for it, however, but patience; and assuredly I have a good example in poor Mrs Bain, who, though little accustomed to such work, has not given utterance to a word of complaint since we left Norway House. It is now four days since we pitched our tents on this vile point. How long we may still remain is yet to be seen.

Thursday, September 4th.—The wind was still very strong this morning; but so impatient had we become at our repeated detentions, that, with one accord, we consented to do or die! So, after launching and loading the canoe with great difficulty, owing to the immense waves that thundered against the shore, we all embarked and pushed off. After severe exertion, and much shipping of water, we at length came to the mouth of the Winnipeg River, up which we proceeded a short distance, and arrived at Fort Alexander.

Thus had we taken fifteen days to coast along Lake Winnipeg, a journey that is usually performed in a third of that time.

Fort Alexander belongs to the Lac la Pluie district; but being a small post, neither famous for trade nor for appearance, I will not take the trouble of describing it. We only remained a couple of hours to take in provisions in the shape of a ham, a little pork, and some flour, and then re-embarking, commenced the ascent of Winnipeg River.

The travelling now before us was widely different from that of the last fifteen days. Our men could no longer rest upon their paddles when tired, as they used to do on the level waters of the lake. The river was a rapid one; and towards evening we had an earnest of the rough work in store for us, by meeting in rapid succession with three waterfalls, to surmount which we were obliged to carry the canoe and cargo over the rocks, and launch them above the falls. While the men were engaged in this laborious duty, Mr Bain and I discovered a great many plum-trees laden with excellent fruit, of which we ate as many as we conveniently could, and then filling our caps and handkerchiefs, embarked with our prize. They were a great treat to us, after our long abstinence from everything but salt food; and I believe we demolished enough to have killed a whole parish school-boys, master, usher, and all! But in voyages like these one may take great liberties with one's interior with perfect impunity.

About sunset we encamped in a picturesque spot near the top of a huge waterfall, whose thundering roar, as it mingled with the sighing of the night wind through the bushes and among the precipitous rocks around us, formed an appropriate and somewhat romantic lullaby.

On the following morning we were aroused from our slumbers at daybreak; and in ten minutes our tents were down and ourselves in the canoe, bounding merrily up the river, while the echoing woods and dells responded to the lively air of "Rose Blanche," sung by the men as we swept round point after point and curve after curve of the noble river, which displayed to our admiring gaze every variety of wild and woodland scenery—now opening up a long vista of sloping groves of graceful trees, beautifully variegated with the tints of autumnal foliage, and sprinkled with a profusion of wildflowers; and anon surrounding us with immense cliffs and precipitous banks of the grandest and most majestic aspect, at the foot of which the black waters rushed impetuously past, and gurgling into white foam as they sped through a broken and more interrupted channel, finally sprang over a mist-shrouded clift and, after boiling madly onwards for a short space, resumed their silent, quiet course through peaceful scenery. As if to enhance the romantic wildness of the scene, upon rounding a point we came suddenly upon a large black bear, which was walking leisurely along the bank of the river. He gazed at us in surprise for a moment; and then, as if it had suddenly occurred to him that guns might be in the canoe, away he went helter-skelter up the bank, tearing up the ground in his precipitate retreat, and vanished among the bushes. Fortunately for him, there was not a gun in the canoe, else his chance of escape would have been very small indeed, as he was only fifty yards or so from us when we first discovered him.

We made ten portages of various lengths during the course of the day: none of them exceeded a quarter of a mile, while the most were merely a few yards. They were very harassing, however, being close to each other; and often we loaded, unloaded, and carried the canoe and cargo overland several times in the distance of half a mile.

On the 7th we left the encampment at an early hour, and made one short portage a few minutes after starting. After breakfast, as we paddled quietly along, we descried three canoes coming towards us, filled with Indians of the Seauteaux tribe. They gave us a few fresh ducks in exchange for some pork and tobacco, with which they were much delighted. After a short conversation between them and one of our men, who understood the language, we parted, and proceeded on our way. A little rain fell during the day, but in the afternoon the sun shone out and lighted up the scenery. The forests about this part of the river wore a much more cheerful aspect than those of the lower countries, being composed chiefly of poplar, birch, oak, and willows, whose beautiful light-green foliage had a very pleasing effect upon eyes long accustomed to the dark pines along the shores of Hudson Bay.

In the afternoon we met another canoe, in which we saw a gentleman sitting. This strange sight set us all speculating as to who it could be, for we knew that all the canoes accustomed annually to go through these wilds had long since passed. We were soon enlightened, however, on the subject. Both canoes made towards a flat rock that offered a convenient spot for landing on; and the stranger introduced himself as Dr Rae. He was on his way to York Factory, for the purpose of fitting out at that post an expedition for the survey of the small part of the North American coast left unexplored by Messrs. Dease and Simpson, which will then prove beyond a doubt whether or not there is a communication by water between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans round the north of America. Dr Rae appeared to be just the man for such an expedition. He was very muscular and active, full of animal spirits, and had a fine intellectual countenance. He was considered, by those who knew him well, to be one of the best snow-shoe walkers in the service, was also an excellent rifle-shot, and could stand an immense amount of fatigue. Poor fellow! greatly will he require to exert all his abilities and powers of endurance. He does not proceed as other expeditions have done—namely, with large supplies of provisions and men—but merely takes a very small supply of provisions, and ten or twelve men. These, however, are all to be of his own choosing, and will doubtless be men of great experience in travelling among the wild regions of North America. The whole expedition is fitted out at the expense of the Hudson Bay Company. The party are to depend almost entirely on their guns for provisions; and after proceeding in two open boats round the north-western shores of Hudson Bay as far as they may find it expedient or practicable, are to land, place their boats in security for the winter, and then penetrate into these unexplored regions on foot. After having done as much as possible towards the forwarding of the object of his journey, Dr Rae and his party are to spend the long dreary winter with the Esquimaux, and commence operations again early in the spring. He is of such a pushing, energetic character, however, that there is every probability he will endeavour to prosecute his discoveries during winter, if at all practicable. How long he will remain exploring among these wild regions is uncertain; but he may be two, perhaps three years. There is every reason to believe that this expedition will be successful, as it is fitted out by a Company intimately acquainted with the difficulties and dangers of the country through which it will have to pass, and the best methods of overcoming and avoiding them. Besides, the doctor himself is well accustomed to the life he will have to lead; and enters upon it, not with the vague and uncertain notions of Back and Franklin, but with a pretty correct apprehension of the probable routine of procedure, and the experience of a great many years spent in the service of the Hudson Bay Company [see note 1]. After a few minutes' conversation we parted, and pursued our respective journeys.

Towards sunset we encamped on the margin of a small lake, or expanse of the river; and soon the silence of the forest was broken by the merry voices of our men, and by the crashing of the stately trees, as they fell under the axes of the voyageurs. The sun's last rays streamed across the water in a broad red glare, as if jealous of the huge campfire, which now rose crackling among the trees, casting a ruddy glow upon our huts, and lighting up the swarthy faces of our men as they assembled round it to rest their weary limbs, and to watch the operations of the cook while he prepared their evening meal.

In less than an hour after we landed, the floor of our tent was covered with a smoking dish of fried pork, a huge ham, a monstrous teapot, and various massive slices of bread, with butter to match. To partake of these delicacies, we seated ourselves in Oriental fashion, and sipped our tea in contemplative silence, as we listened to the gentle murmur of a neighbouring brook, and gazed through the opening of our tent at the voyageurs, while they ate their supper round the fire, or, reclining at length upon the grass, smoked their pipes in silence.

Supper was soon over, and I went out to warm myself, preparatory to turning in for the night. The men had supped, and their huge forms were now stretched around the fire, enveloped in clouds of tobacco smoke, which curled in volumes from their unshaven lips. They were chatting and laughing over tales of bygone days; and just as I came up they were begging Pierre the guide to relate a tale of some sort or other. "Come, Pierre," said a tall, dark-looking fellow, whose pipe, eyes, and hair were of the same jetty hue, "tell us how that Ingin was killed on the Labrador coast by a black bear. Baptiste, here, never heard how it happened, and you know he's fond of wild stories."

"Well," returned the guide, "since you must have it, I'll do what I can; but don't be disappointed if it isn't so interesting as you would wish. It's a simple tale, and not over-long." So saying, the guide disposed himself in a more comfortable attitude, refilled his pipe, and after blowing two or three thick clouds to make sure of its keeping alight, gave, in nearly the following words, an account of:—

THE DEATH OF WAPWIAN.

"It is now twenty years since I saw Wapwian, and during that time I have travelled far and wide in the plains and forests of America. I have hunted the buffalo with the Seauteaux, in the prairies of the Saskatchewan; I have crossed the Rocky Mountains with the Blackfeet, and killed the black bear with the Abinikies, on the coasts of Labrador; but never, among all the tribes that I have visited, have I met an Indian like Wapwian. It was not his form or his strength that I admired, though the first was graceful, and the latter immense; but his disposition was so kind, and affectionate, and noble, that all who came in contact with him loved and respected him. Yet, strange to say, he was never converted by the Roman Catholic missionaries who from time to time visited his village. He listened to them with respectful attention, but always answered that he could worship the Great Manitou better as a hunter in the forest than as a farmer in the settlements of the white men.

"Well do I remember the first time I stumbled upon the Indian village in which he lived. I had set out from Montreal with two trappers to pay a visit to the Labrador coast; we had travelled most of the way in a small Indian canoe, coasting along the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and reconnoitring in the woods for portages to avoid rounding long capes and points of land, and sometimes in search of game; for we depended almost entirely upon our guns for food.

"It was upon one of the latter occasions that I went off, accompanied by one of the trappers, while the other remained to watch the canoe and prepare our encampment for the night. We were unsuccessful, and after a long walk thought of returning to our camp empty-handed, when a loud whirring sound in the bushes attracted our attention, and two partridges perched upon a tree quite near us. We shot them, and fixing them in our belts, retraced our way towards the coast with lighter hearts. Just as we emerged from the dense forest, however, on one side of an open space, a tall muscular Indian strode from among the bushes and stood before us. He was dressed in the blanket capote, cloth leggins, and scarlet cap usually worn by the Abinikies, and other tribes of the Labrador coast. A red deer-skin shot-pouch and a powder-horn hung round his neck, and at his side were a beautifully ornamented fire-bag and scalping-knife. A common gun lay in the hollow of his left arm, and a pair of ornamented moccasins covered his feet. He was, indeed, a handsome-looking fellow, as he stood scanning us rapidly with his jet-black eyes while we approached him. We accosted him, and informed him (for he understood a little French) whence we came, and our object in visiting his part of the country. He received our advances kindly, accepted a piece of tobacco that we offered him, and told us that his name was Wapwian, and that we were welcome to remain at his village—to which he offered to conduct us—as long as we pleased. After a little hesitation we accepted his invitation to remain a few days; the more so, as by so doing we would have an opportunity of getting some provisions to enable us to continue our journey. In half an hour we reached the brow of a small eminence, whence the curling smoke of the wigwams was visible. The tents were pitched on the shores of a small bay or inlet, guarded from the east wind by a high precipice of rugged rocks, around which hundreds of sea-fowl sailed in graceful flights. Beyond this headland stretched the majestic Gulf of St. Lawrence; while to the left the village was shaded by the spruce-fir, of which most of this part of the forest is composed. There were, in all, about a dozen tents, made of dressed deerskin; at the openings of which might be seen groups of little children playing about on the grass, or running after their mothers as they went to the neighbouring rivulet for water, or launched their canoes to examine the nets in the bay.

"Wapwian paused to gaze an instant on the scene, and then, descending the hill with rapid strides, entered the village, and dispatched a little boy for our companion in the encampment.

"We were ushered into a tent somewhat elevated above the others, and soon were reclining on a soft pile of pine branches, smoking in company with our friend Wapwian, while his pretty little squaw prepared a kettle of fish for supper.

"We spent two happy days in the village, hunting deer with our Indian friend, and assisting the squaws in their fishing operations. On the third morning we remained in the camp to dry the venison, and prepare for our departure; while Wapwian shouldered his gun, and calling to his nephew, a slim, active youth of eighteen, bade him follow with his gun, as he intended to bring back a few ducks for his white brothers.

"The two Indians proceeded for a time along the shore, and then striking off into the forest, threaded their way among the thick bushes in the direction of a chain of small lakes where wild-fowl were numerous.

"For some time they moved rapidly along under the sombre shade of the trees, casting from time to time sharp glances into the surrounding underwood. Suddenly the elder Indian paused and threw forward his gun, as a slight rustling in the bushes struck his ear. The boughs bent and crackled a few yards in advance, and a large black bear crossed the path and entered the underwood on the other side. Wapwian fired at him instantly, and a savage growl told that the shot had taken effect. The gun, however, had been loaded with small shot; and although, when he fired, the bear was only a few yards off, yet the improbability of its having wounded him badly, and the distance they had to go ere they reached the lakes, inclined him to give up the chase. While Wapwian was loading his gun, Miniquan (his nephew) had been examining the bear's track, and returned, saying that he was sure the animal must be badly wounded, for there was much blood on the track. At first the elder Indian refused to follow it; but seeing that his nephew wished very much to kill the brute, he at last consented. As the trail of the bear was much covered with blood, they found no difficulty in tracking it; and after a short walk they found him extended on his side at the foot of a large tree, apparently lifeless. Wapwian, however, was too experienced a hunter to trust himself incautiously within its reach, so he examined the priming of his gun, and then, advancing slowly to the animal, pushed it with the muzzle. In an instant the bear sprang upon him, regardless of the shot lodged in its breast, and in another moment Wapwian lay stunned and bleeding at the monster's feet. Miniquan was at first so thunderstruck, as he gazed in horror at the savage animal tearing with bloody jaws the senseless form of his uncle, that he stood rooted to the ground. It was only for a moment—the next, his gun was at his shoulder, and after firing at, but unfortunately, in the excitement of the moment, missing the bear, he attacked it with the butt of his gun, which he soon shivered to pieces on its skull. This drew the animal for a few moments from Wapwian; and Miniquan, in hopes of leading it from the place, ran off in the direction of the village. The bear, however, soon gave up the chase, and returned again to its victim. Miniquan now saw that the only chance of saving his relative was to alarm the village; so, tightening his belt, he set off with the speed of the hunted deer in the direction of the camp. In an incredibly short time he arrived, and soon returned with the trappers and myself. Alas! alas!" said the guide with a deep sigh, "it was too late. Upon arriving at the spot, we found the bear quite dead, and the noble, generous Wapwian extended by its side, torn and lacerated in such a manner that we could scarcely recognise him. He still breathed a little, however, and appeared to know me, as I bent over him and tried to close his gaping wounds. We constructed a rude couch of branches, and conveyed him slowly to the village. No word of complaint or cry of sorrow escaped from his wife as we laid his bleeding form in her tent. She seemed to have lost the power of speech, as she sat, hour after hour, gazing in unutterable despair on the mangled form of her husband. Poor Wapwian lingered for a week in a state of unconsciousness. His skull had been fractured, and he lay almost in a state of insensibility, and never spoke, save when, in a fit of delirium, his fancy wandered back to bygone days, when he ranged the forest with a tiny bow in chase of little birds and squirrels, strode in the vigour of early manhood over frozen plains of snow, or dashed down foaming currents and mighty rivers in his light canoe. Then a shade would cross his brow as he thought, perhaps, of his recent struggle with the bear, and he would again relapse into silence.

"He recovered slightly before his death; and once he smiled, as if he recognised his wife, but he never spoke to any one. We scarcely know when his spirit fled, so calm and peaceful was his end.

"His body now reposes beneath the spreading branches of a lordly pine, near the scenes of his childhood, where he had spent his youth, and where he met his untimely end."

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The guide paused, and looked round upon his auditors. Alas! for the sympathy of man—the half of them had gone to sleep; and Baptiste, for whose benefit the story had been related, lay, or rather sprawled, upon the turf behind the fire, his shaggy head resting on the decayed stump of an old tree, and his empty pipe hanging gracefully from his half-open mouth. A slight "humph" escaped the worthy guide as he shook the ashes from his pipe, and rolling his blanket round him, laid his head upon the ground.

Early the following morning we raised the camp and continued our journey. The scenery had now become more wild and picturesque. Large pines became numerous; and the rocky fissures, through which the river rushed in a black unbroken mass, cast a gloomy shadow upon us as we struggled to ascend. Sometimes we managed to get up these rapids with the paddles; and when the current was too powerful, with long poles, which the men fixed in the ground, and thus pushed slowly up; but when both of these failed, we resorted to the tracking line, upon which occasions four of the men went on shore and dragged us up, leaving four in the canoe to paddle and steer it. When the current was too strong for this, they used to carry parts of the cargo to the smooth water further up, and drag the canoe up light, or, taking it on their shoulders, carry it overland. We made nine or ten of these portages in two days. In the afternoon we came in view of a Roman Catholic mission station, snugly situated at the bottom of a small bay or creek; but as it was a little out of our way, and from its quiet appearance seemed deserted, we did not stop.

In the afternoon of the following day, the 9th of September, we arrived at the Company's post, called Rat Portage House, where we were hospitably entertained for a few hours by Mr McKenzie, the gentleman in charge. On the portage, over which we had to carry our canoe and baggage, a large party of Indians of both sexes and all ages were collected to witness our departure; and Mr McKenzie advised us to keep a sharp lookout, as they were much addicted to appropriating the property of others to their own private use, provided they could find an opportunity of doing so unobserved; so, while our men were running backwards and forwards, carrying the things over the rocks, Mr Bain and his lady remained at one end to guard them, and I at the other. Everything, however, was got safely across; the Indians merely stood looking on, apparently much amused with our proceedings, and nothing seemed further from their thoughts than stealing. Just as we paddled from the bank, one of our men threw them a handful of tobacco, for which there was a great scramble, and their noisy voices died away in the distance as we rounded an abrupt point of rocks, and floated out upon the glorious expanse of Lac du Bois, or, as it is more frequently called, the Lake of the Woods.

There is nothing, I think, better calculated to awaken the more solemn feelings of our nature (unless, indeed, it be the thrilling tones of sacred music) than these noble lakes, studded with innumerable islets, suddenly bursting on the traveller's view as he emerges from the sombre forest-rivers of the American wilderness. The clear unruffled water, stretching out to the horizon—here, embracing the heavy and luxuriant foliage of a hundred wooded isles, or reflecting the wood-clad mountains on its margin, clothed in all the variegated hues of autumn; and there, glittering with dazzling brilliancy in the bright rays of the evening sun, or rippling among the reeds and rushes of some shallow bay, where hundreds of wild-fowl chatter, as they feed, with varied cry, rendering more apparent, rather than disturbing, the solemn stillness of the scene: all tends to "raise the soul from nature up to nature's God," and reminds one of the beautiful passage of Scripture, "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches." At the same time, when one considers how very few of the human race cast even a passing glance on the beauties of nature around, one cannot but be impressed with the truth of the lines—

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

At night we encamped at the furthest extremity of the lake, on a very exposed spot, whence we looked out upon the starlit scene, while our supper was spread before us in the warm light of the fire, which blazed and crackled as the men heaped log after log upon it, sending up clouds of bright sparks into the sky.

Next morning we commenced the ascent of Lac la Pluie River. This is decidedly the most beautiful river we had yet traversed—not only on account of the luxuriant foliage of every hue with which its noble banks are covered, but chiefly from the resemblance it bears in many places to the scenery of England, recalling to mind the grassy lawns and verdant banks of Britain's streams, and transporting the beholder from the wild scenes of the western world to his native home. The trees along its banks were larger and more varied than any we had hitherto seen—ash, poplar, cedar, red and white pines, oak, and birch being abundant, whilst flowers of gaudy hues enhanced the beauty of the scene. Towards noon our guide kept a sharp lookout for a convenient spot whereon to dine; and ere long a flat shelving rock, partly shaded by trees and partly exposed to the blaze of the sun, presented itself to view. The canoe was soon alongside of it, and kept floating about half a foot from the edge by means of two branches, the two ends of which were fastened to the bow and stern of the canoe, and the other two to the ground by means of huge stones. It is necessary to be thus careful with canoes, as the gum or pitch with which the seams are plastered breaks off in lumps, particularly in cold weather, and makes the craft leaky. A snow-white napkin was spread on the flattest part of the rock, and so arranged that, as we reclined around it, on cloaks and blankets, our bodies down to the knees were shaded by the luxuriant foliage behind us, while our feet were basking in the solar rays! Upon the napkin were presently placed, by our active waiter Gibault, three pewter plates, a decanter of port wine, and a large ham, together with a turret of salt butter, and a loaf of bread, to the demolition of which viands we devoted ourselves with great earnestness. At a short distance the men circled round a huge lump of boiled pork, each with a large slice of bread in one hand and a knife in the other, with which he porked his bread in the same way that civilised people butter theirs! Half an hour concluded our mid-day meal; and then, casting off the branches from the canoe, we were out of sight of our temporary dining-room in five minutes.

On the evening of the following day we arrived at the Company's post, Fort Frances. The fort is rather an old building, situated at the bottom of a small bay or curve in the river, near the foot of a waterfall, whose thundering roar forms a ceaseless music to the inhabitants. We found the post in charge of a chief trader, who had no other society than that of three or four labouring men; so, as may be supposed, he was delighted to see us. Our men carried the canoe, etcetera, over the portage to avoid the waterfall, and as it was then too late to proceed further that night, we accepted his pressing invitation to pass the night at the fort. There was only one spare bed in the house, but this was a matter of little moment to us after the variety of beds we had had since starting; so, spreading a buffalo robe on the floor for a mattress, I rolled myself in my blanket and tried to sleep. At first I could not manage it, owing to the unearthly stillness of a room, after being so long accustomed to the open air and the noise of rivers and cataracts, but at last succeeded, and slept soundly till morning.

Dame Fortune does not always persecute her friends; and although she had retarded us hitherto a good deal with contrary winds and rains, she kindly assisted us when we commenced crossing Lac la Pluie next morning, by raising a stiff, fair breeze. Now, be it known that a canoe, from having no keel, and a round bottom, cannot venture to hoist a sail unless the wind is directly astern—the least bit to one side would be sure to capsize it; so that our getting the wind precisely in the proper direction at the commencement was a great piece of good fortune, inasmuch as it enabled us to cross the lake in six hours, instead of (as is generally the case) taking one, two, or three days.

In the evening we arrived, in high spirits, at a portage, on which we encamped.

Our progress now became a little more interrupted by portages and small lakes, or rather ponds, through which we sometimes passed with difficulty, owing to the shallowness of the water in many places. Soon after this we came to the Mecan River, which we prepared to ascend. In making a portage, we suddenly discovered a little Indian boy, dressed in the extreme of the Indian summer fashion—in other words, he was in a state of perfect nakedness, with the exception of a breech-cloth; and upon casting our eyes across the river we beheld his worthy father, in a similar costume, busily employed in catching fish with a hand-net. He was really a wild, picturesque-looking fellow, notwithstanding the scantiness of his dress; and I was much interested in his proceedings. When I first saw him, he was standing upon a rock close to the edge of a foaming rapid, into the eddies of which he gazed intently, with the net raised in the air, and his muscular frame motionless, as if petrified while in the act of striking. Suddenly the net swung through the air, and his body quivered as he strained every sinew to force it quickly through the water: in a moment it came out with a beautiful white-fish, upwards of a foot long, glittering like silver as it struggled in the meshes. In the space of half an hour he had caught half a dozen in this manner, and we bought three or four of the finest for a few plugs of tobacco. His wigwam and family were close at hand; so, while our men crossed the portage, I ran up to see them.

The tent, which was made of sheets of birch bark sewed together, was pitched beneath the branches of a gigantic pine, upon the lower limbs of which hung a pair of worn-out snow-shoes, a very dirty blanket, and a short bow, with a quiver of arrows near it. At the foot of it, upon the ground, were scattered a few tin pots, several pairs of old moccasins, and a gun; while against it leaned an Indian cradle, in which a small, very brown baby, with jet-black eyes and hair, stood bolt upright, basking in the sun's rays, and bearing a comical resemblance to an Egyptian mummy. At the door of the tent a child of riper years amused itself by rolling about among the chips of wood, useless bits of deer-skin, and filth always strewn around a wigwam. On the right hand lay a pile of firewood, with an axe beside it, near which crouched a half-starved, wretched-looking nondescript dog, who commenced barking vociferously the moment he cast eyes upon me. Such was the outside. The interior, filled with smoke from the fire and Indians' pipes, was, if possible, even dirtier. Amid a large pile of rabbit-skins reclined an old woman, busily plucking the feathers from a fine duck, which she carefully preserved (the feathers, not the duck) in a bag, for the purpose of trading them with the Company at a future period. Her dress was a coat of rabbit-skins, so strangely shaped that no one could possibly tell how she ever got it off or on. This, however, was doubtless a matter of little consequence to her, as Indians seldom take the trouble of changing their clothes, or even of undressing at all. The coat was fearfully dirty, and hung upon her in a way that led me to suppose she had worn it for six months, and that it would fall off her in a few days. A pair of faded blue cloth leggins completed her costume—her dirty shoulders, arms, and feet being quite destitute of covering; while her long black hair fell in tangled masses upon her neck, and it was evidently a long time since a comb had passed through it. On the other side sat a younger woman similarly attired, employed in mending a hand-net; and on a very much worn buffalo robe sat a young man (probably the brother of the one we had seen fishing), wrapped in a blanket, smoking his pipe in silence. A few dirty little half-naked boys lay sprawling among several packages of furs tied up in birch bark, and disputed with two or three ill-looking dogs the most commodious place whereon to lie. The fire in the middle of the tent sent up a cloud of smoke, which escaped through an aperture at the top; and from a cross-bar depended a few slices of deer-meat, undergoing the process of smoking.

I had merely time to note all this, and say, "What cheer!" to the Indians, who returned the compliment with a grunt, when the loud voice of our guide ringing through the glades of the forest informed me that the canoe was ready to proceed.

The country through which we now passed was very interesting, on account of the variety of the scenes and places through which we wound our way. At times we were paddling with difficulty against the strong current of a narrow river, which, on our turning a point of land, suddenly became a large lake; and then, after crossing this, we arrived at a portage. After passing over it, there came a series of small ponds and little creeks, through which we pushed our way with difficulty; and then arrived at another lake, and more little rivers, with numerous portages. Sometimes ludicrous accidents happened to us—bad enough at the time, but subjects of mirth afterwards.

One cold, frosty morning (for the weather had now become cold, from the elevation of the country through which we were passing), while the canoe was going quietly over a small reedy lake or ford, I was awakened out of a nap, and told that the canoe was aground, and I must get out and walk a little way to lighten her. Hastily pulling up my trousers for I always travelled barefoot—I sprang over the side into the water, and the canoe left me. Now, all this happened so quickly that I was scarcely awake; but the bitterly cold water, which nearly reached my knees, cleared up my faculties most effectually, and I then found that I was fifty yards from the shore, with an unknown depth of water around me, the canoe out of sight ahead of me, and Mr Bain—who had been turned out while half asleep also—standing with a rueful expression of countenance beside me. After feeling our way cautiously—for the bottom was soft and muddy—we reached the shore; and then, thinking that all was right, proceeded to walk round to join the canoe. Alas! we found the bushes so thick that they were very nearly impenetrable; and, worse than all, that they, as well as the ground, were covered with thorns, which scratched and lacerated our feet most fearfully at every step. There was nothing for it, however, but to persevere; and after a painful walk of a quarter of a mile we overtook the canoe, vowing never to leap before we looked upon any other occasion whatsoever.