The Arctic Prairies

the Ann Seton. The Athabaska River was a-flood and clear of ice; 13 scows of freight, with 60 half-breeds and India

ion. They were a jolly crowd, like a lot of rollicking schoolboys, full of fun and good-humour, chaffing and joking all day; but when a question of business came up, the serious businessman ap

t the inadequacy of these mellifluous or lisping tongues, and fell back on virile Saxon, whose tang, projectivi

wenty-five feet of tubing, and retired to a good hiding-place. But alas! I put the tube on the left-hand pump, not knowing that that was a dummy. The Grouse came back in three minutes, drumming in a superb pose squarely in front of the camera. I used the pump, but saw that it failed to operate; on going forward the Grouse skimmed away and returned no more. Preble said, "Never mind;

trapper; on the roof were the dried up bodies of 1 Skunk, 2 Foxes, and 30 Ly

afe, we tied up to the scows and drifted, m

fortunately unburnt; but there seemed no sign of living creature outside of our own numerous, noisy, and picturesque party. River, hills, and woods were calm and silent. It was impressive, if disappointing; and,

d right to the water's edge on the alluvial soil it stands in ranks. Each year, of course, the floods un

elessly awaiting the onset of the inexorable, invincible river. One group, somewhat isolated

huge blocks of ice that were piled along the shore. The adult male inhabitants came dow

oking Lynx. I had a camera, for it was near sundown, and in the woods, so I went back to the boat and returned with a gun. There was the Lynx still prowling, but now farther from the village. I do not believe he would have harmed the children, but a Lynx is game. I fired, and he fell without a quiver or a sound. This wa

w they were but a quarter mile off. At first I had found them amusing and picturesque, but their many unpleasant habits, their distinct aversion to strangers, their greediness to get all

y, on an island, the scows taken down a side channel, one by one, and reloaded. This meant

and last aid to the hurt in my own party. In taking instructions from our family physician, I had learned the value of a profound air of great gravity, a noble reticence, and a total absence of doubt, when I did speak. I compressed his creed into a sing

on the river, came to my tent on Grand Island. John complained that he couldn't hold anything on his stomach; he was a total peristaltic wreck indeed (my words; his were more simp

rning." Next morning John was back, and complained that my pills had no effect; h

moment a Winnipeg friend had given me a pint flask of

nned with pepper-juice." I poured half an inch of brandy

l it, it means your insides are dead,

s were not dead; but I might have

s. He did not squeal-John never squeals-but he suffered

all right, and would soon again

ken," crushed by a heavy weight, and was badly crippled. He came leaning on a friend's shoulder. His foot was blackened and much swo

I began with massage. It seemed necessary in the Indian environment to hum some tune, and I

ave a habit (not known elsewhere) of improving the incident. Very soon it was known all along the river that the Indian's leg was broken, an

e of the arctic form, a few Red-backed Vo

ese were known as "lob-sticks," or "lop-sticks," and are usually the monuments of some distinguished visitor in the country or records of some

prominent tree in view?" The visitor usually selects one back from the water's edge, often on some far hilltop, the more prominent the better; then an active young fellow is sent up with an axe to trim the tree. The more embellishment the higher the honor

mber was small, but the best they could get on a small island was chosen and trimmed into a monument. They were disappoi

ole boulders, was passed in four days, and then, again in co

aska's boi

, leaping,