Fort Garry to Fort Ellice.

June 15th. - After a fortnight's preparation and delays, my arrangements were at length completed, and by 5 o'clock that afternoon, the expedition was fairly underway and proceeding steadily forward on its western course.

Our first march was not a long one; we had not meant it to be so; we had been only desirous to emerge from the neighbourhood of the Fort, to gather all into due place and order, and to shake off that spirit of lingering whose influences impede the traveller when within the sphere of settlements. We were now encamped at Sturgeon Creek, a few miles on our journey. The weather was fine, everything worked smoothly, and all promised well for the morrow.

June 16th. - We halted a few hours at White Horse Plains, where I dined at the Fort with Mr. Lane, the gentleman in charge of that station. The whole place was swarming with half-breed hunters and their families, who, with innumerable carts and to was horses, were gathering there preparatory their start for the prairies on their great annual summer buffalo hunt.

I was glad to escape from this scene of noise and confusion when we were at length enabled to resume our march, but by that time it had grown late, so we only went the seven or eight miles farther, and halted in a prairie, making our camp beside a grove of young willows.

June 17th - At dawn of day I was awakened by a most delicious concert of birds singing in the bushes around my tent. The air was pure and fresh, and the low rays of the sun gleamed on the dewy herbage, all nature was full of cheer-pretty songsters tuned their voices to an encouraging strain. As they fluttered around me, they seemed to beckon me forward, and their notes took the form of words, crying with endless reiteration - This-is-the-path; Oh-this-is-the-way! Sometimes one with a very deep voice would sing all alone - This-is-the-path; then a hundred voices would answer him rapturously in the shrillest treble, with - Oh-this-is-the-way; and then all would unite together and chorus forth their little ditty again and again.

We were off by 5 o'clock this morning, but our progress was not very great, interruptions and delays occurring at every turn, chiefly on horse-dealing business, which is always a tedious affair. I added two capital animals to my lot - "Blond," otherwise "McGillis," a handsome chestnut with a long wavy mane and tail, - sleek and immensely fat, which is here counted the greatest of merits, as bespeaking plenteous winter keep and corresponding stores of substance for future wear and tear; and "La Framboise," a Saskatchewan-bred brown, too lean, but strong and hardy-looking; both of them were very serviceable cart-horses, fit enough even for the wagon. I thought "Blond" by no means a dear bargain at £18; for "La Framboise" I gave to the hunter from whom his name was derived £15, likewise also little Black, who was much too weak for the harness and too small for the saddle.

Sunday, June 19th. - After a talk with McKay, I settled to have a complete halt on Sundays. [ I made this rule from no strict Sabbatarian reasons, but from a belief that the special weekly holiday would be good for man and beast; a reminder of home ties for the former, and a useful rest for both. The Scottish settlers seldom shoot on Sundays, but their travelling goes on without difference, so my rule was rather a novelty. These breaks in the journey answered well enough in summer but had to be given up when cold weather set in. Delay then becomes too dangerous. Thirty below zero is a great stimulator, especially when food runs short, and supplies are few and far between.

The camp was very unwholesomely placed within a dozen yards of a large mosquito-haunted marsh, whence the boom of the bittern resounded at intervals, like the distant roaring of a bull. My hardy men never thought of such things as damp and miasma, nor, to tell the truth, did I, yet probably many a troublesome symptom arose from camping in such swampy places, though our healthy active habits saved us from serious illness.

At this camp, I passed two wretched nights, unwell without suspecting the cause, but moving on Monday to higher ground the change at once cured me. Perhaps some hours in the swamp, wading knee-deep after ducks and bitterns, had done me more mischief than I knew of. ]

While here I received a visit from Mr. Simpson and his half-brother, who were on their way to Fort Garry. They stayed an hour or two and had dinner in my tent. The former had come straight from Fort Pitt, on the Saskatchewan, where, till lately, he had been the officer in charge. He brought the unwelcome news that the Cree and Blackfeet were at the point of going to war. This, it was evident, would interfere with my intended journey to the Elbow of the South Saskatchewan; it appeared, however, that very little game was left in those parts, the four years' peace between the tribes having enabled them to hunt on that generally debatable ground. It seemed likely that I should have to take the usual route after all, through a country disturbed by constant traffic, with no chance of sport for at least three weeks. But nothing could be known till we got to Fort Ellice, so I continued to hope for the best.

Among Mr. Simpson's horses was one said to be an excellent buffalo runner, and finding he wished to sell it, I availed myself of the chance and bought it from him. This animal originally came from the Columbia River, and for some time belonged to Nahtooss, a Blackfoot chief. "Bichon" was the pony's name, on account of his yellowish hue, - but the paleness of his creamy fawn-coloured skin was handsomely relieved by the blackness of his mane and tail. He was upwards of fourteen hands high, rather bare-hipped, angular, and coarse-headed, strong however, and on the whole not bad looking.

June 20th. - Anxious to get forward, we made an extra long march, starting at 4.30 a.m., and going on till 8.30 p.m., with a couple of halts of two hours each. This took us so far that we camped near the point where the hunters' south-ward road diverged from the westerly track to Fort Ellice, - our future line. Much did I long for the departure of our noisy companions, whose presence scared all the game away, and robbed the beautiful deserts of their peaceful, soothing loneliness.

Nature had done much for the country we had been traversing that day, and the bright summer sunshine did something for it too. It was pleasant to exchange the miserable swamps for low hills of a light and sandy soil, covered with poplar groves dotted with scattered spruces; or for open plains, some flat, some undulating, but all sound and hard and dry, and redolent of warmth.

I was weary of the half-breeds, and their wasteful, destructive ways. Everywhere their ravages met the eye. Trees ruthlessly cut down or disfigured; young poplars barked for their sap; noble spruces shorn of their branches, a wretched top-knot left to keep the tree alive, that it might bear some jovial voyageur's name, whose "lobstick" it had been created, after a whisky drinking over the ruin.

Fervently as I wished them away, it cheered one's spirits to see the hunters on their march. There was infinite picturesqueness about them. Their long moving columns sparkled with life and gaiety. Cart-tilts of every hue flashed brightly in the sun, hosts of wild wolfish dogs ran in and out among the vehicles, and troops of loose horses pranced and galloped alongside. The smartly dressed men were riding their showiest steeds, and their wives and daughters were travelling in the carts, enthroned on high heaps of baggage. Many of the women were clearly of unmingled Indian blood. Tall and angular, long masses of straight black hair fell over their backs; blue and white cotton gowns, shapeless, stayless, un-crinolined, displayed the flatness of their unprojecting figures. Some wore a gaudy handkerchief on the head, the married bound one also across the bosom.

In M. B — — 's first cart there sat a singularly handsome girl, a dark-complexioned maiden of the mixed French descent. As with so many of her race, her countenance bore a half-shy, half-disdainful expression: she looked like one who would be amiable to few, ill-tempered to most, but true to the death of her husband or her lover.

The hunters were all in their summer clothing, wearing the usual brass-buttoned blue capot, with moleskin trousers and calico shirts. "Wide-awakes, or cloth caps with peaks, were the favourite head-coverings. Gaily-embroidered saddle- cloths and belts were preferred to those of a less showy appearance; red, white, and blue beading, on a black cloth ground seemed to form the most general arrangement.

Mr. E, who accompanied us part of the way and slept that night at my camp, rode beside us on a well-bred old white horse adorned with showy red-and-black trappings. He himself wore the dark-blue capot, a black cap, and black moleskin trousers and moccasins, and to English notions looked a most unsportsmanlike figure, but like all the rest he rode gracefully and well.

They sit very upright, with their legs nearly straight up and down. Their saddles are exceedingly small, either mere Indian pads or narrow Spanish frames, high before and behind, with a long peak to the front. Over such a frame they strap a blanket, and sometimes also place another beneath, but nothing can keep these ill-contrived saddles from galling the horse's backs.

July 21st. - McKay had spoken much about the dangerous position of our camp, as lying in the direct warpath of the Sioux, so when in the morning it was reported that Black, Morgan, and Vermont were missing, I feared that they were lost forever. Happily, they had only strayed, and not more than an hour was wasted in tracking and recovering the wanderers. This was another lovely day, but, for all that, we rejoiced when a thunderstorm came on, for it drove away those pests - the venomous, eye-blinding, hard-skinned, little sandflies. Yesterday another enemy had troubled us - certain huge-headed gadflies, of hornet appearance, that are commonly known as "bulldogs." Darting on man or horse, the wretch gives one short bite with his scissory clippers, - then off like a flash, leaving a poisoned and bleeding wound.

'The insect tribe is a perfect curse; one has no rest or peace. Mosquitoes on the wet ground and sandflies in the dry, bull-dogs in the sunshine, bugs in the oakwoods, ants everywhere - it is maddening. . . . The fever caused by these bites is what most distresses me. It is worst at night when one gets warm in bed; all the veins swell and glow, and seem full of liquid fire.' ....

After dinner, we were detained till three o'clock by another thunderstorm and then made a four-hour march through a prairie country with numerous small lakes abounding in ducks. I shot a few, but my sport was much interfered with by a dog we had brought with us - a retriever that would not retrieve.

This detestable animal, Hector by name, a large, red, curly-coated water-spaniel, I had bought rather hastily from a man at Red River, who gave him a high character; but the dog was an impostor and a nuisance. He would go into the water after a dead or wounded duck, secure it zealously, and bring it with him in the most promising style, but on coming near shore he always dropped it just out of your reach, and no persuasion could make him fetch it an inch farther. Sometimes he amused himself by running forward and putting everything up. It was hard to say if he were more knave or fool and the beast was a coward too. Good nature was his only merit, and it did not long avert his doom.

McKay became rather unwell in the course of the evening; happily, it was nothing very serious, and some simple remedies were taken under my advice - for in the absence of better practitioners had to act as doctor for the party - proved perfectly successful in making a cure. I was now beginning to know more about my men, and greatly they all pleased me, as well they might. - ' My men go on very well; I like them all. John McKay I like, .... he is my head man (guide, as we understand the term, I can scarcely call him, for he knows but little of the road, and did not profess to) - a steady good man, clever with horses, carts, or anything; he manages the other men admirably, and suits me exceedingly well.

'Matheson is a jolly, handsome young Scotsman, singing snatches of gay songs all day. McBeath, a Scotsman too, grave, tall, and gentlemanlike. Klyne, of mixed French descent, is active, clever, and very obliging. Short, a Scotch half-breed, more Indian in his ways than Scotch, an extraordinarily active lad, a perfect shot with either gun, arrow, stick, or stone.

'Toma, the Iroquois, is generally grave in look, but gets on well with the rest, - they are always joking together. I find him very attentive and useful. He sings pleasantly monotonous canoe songs as he drives my wagon, sitting under the shade of a canvas tilt.' [These extracts are partly from my journal, partly from a letter written about that date. I dwell more fully on the same subject afterwards.]

June 22d. - We arrived this afternoon at the Rapid River, sometimes called the Little Saskatchewan,* and scowed across without much labour or difficulty. This stream, where we crossed it, was about thirty yards wide, and of no great depth or body of water. The western banks in the vicinity are high, and prettily clothed with trees, which come down the grassy slopes in groups and patches projected boldly from the larger woods that crown the summit.

McKay went forward a mile or two and camped on the top of the bank, at the very edge of the descent. Meanwhile, I took a turn with Matheson to look for deer in the woods, but we got nothing, and the mosquitoes got us; they were perfectly dreadful.' Even the campfires did not keep them away that night; they 'came right into the smoke of the fires, and bit like tigers.'

During most of the day's march, I rode Vermont, who was by no means as great a favourite as Morgan, though not without his good qualities. - 'Vermont has gone much better since I took to wearing spurs. He is a nice little beast, with funny sly ways of his own. His ears are remarkably small, and he constantly keeps them pricked forward, which adds to his cunning and sagacious appearance.'

June 23rd - A fine day, but spoiled by two or three thunderstorms, one especially heavy while it lasted. After breakfast, I walked on before the carts and shot ducks till dinner time. I only bagged four, though double that number fell, and even for these, I was obliged to wade in hip-deep every time, for the useless retriever as usual refused to bring them out. The country was of the prairie sort, and rather flat than undulating, but every small hollow had its swamp or lake, in which innumerable ducks made their abode. About camping time we came to a pretty piece of water, known as Salt Lake, but as its quality answered to its name we did not halt there but passed on a mile or so farther. Three notable mischances befell us today. McKay lost his whip, I lost a particularly good knife, and, worst of all, my watch stopped, and though I set it going it never could be trusted afterwards.

June 24th. - Having started about 5 a.m., we arrived at breakfast time at Shoal Lake, another very pretty sheet of water, which cannot be much less than ten miles in length. There was an agreeable variety of animal life on its well-wooded shores. First, we observed a wolf prowling around the camp, whereupon we took our guns and gave chase, but he escaped into the brushwood. Then, a moment or two after, as I was returning from the fruitless pursuit, I saw a moderate-sized, black and white, bushy-tailed animal moving slowly among the thick bushes, and shot it, chiefly from motives of curiosity.

It was a skunk,* a much more handsome creature than might be supposed, and not offensive if killed on the spot, as happened in this instance - very fortunately! for he was close to the place where our breakfasts were prepared. Soon afterwards I tried my rifle at a loon swimming far out on the lake, but he escaped by rapid diving, an accomplishment which renders this bird proverbially hard to hit: modern express would probably be too quick even for him, but my rifles, though fast of their kind, carry no heavier charge of powder than the 2| drachms generally given to two-grooves of that date and pattern.

Before starting, I made a grand turn-out of my armament, the baggage being in such confusion that nothing was ever available when wanted in a hurry. I now had the gun cases putting the more important uppermost, and cases neatly arranged in the wagon, - disposing their contents so that anything could be got at in a moment when required. This business finished after great expenditure of trouble, I travelled for variety's sake in the now orderly wagon till dinner time, but it was very jolty work, so I had Bichon saddled and rode for the rest of the day. - 'He went well, and is evidently used to gallop on rough ground, but he was tiresomely anxious to stay with the other horses, and when forced to go on, neighed incessantly, driving away, of course, any game that might chance to be near.' I got McKay to try him, thinking he would perhaps go more quietly under his hand, but it made no difference, it was a habit that had yet to be cured.

June 26th. - A short march before breakfast brought us into the vale of the Assiniboine, up which we pursued our way amid a heavy thunderstorm, till, having come nearly opposite Fort Ellice, we halted and camped. The river at this part of its course flows on with many windings through levels overgrown with brush and timber. The valley, above a mile in width, is bounded by high wooded banks on either side. It was a pretty landscape, although much was hidden by the rain; this partial concealment, however, tended to magnify the distances and add to the scene more importance than belonged to it. In the afternoon McKay and I rode on together to Fort Ellice, which is beautifully situated at the edge of the glen of Beaver Creek, a deep, wooded ravine that cuts its way at right angles through the hills of the Assiniboine vale. At the river-side, we found a clumsy old scow, in which we took our horses across. We ascended a high bank by a very steep and difficult road, which led us to our destination, where we were hospitably received by the superintendent, Mr. McKay, accompanied by his father, a retired Company officer, who was at that time assisting in the management of the Post. After tea we rode back again, returning to camp before daylight had quite departed.

Sunday, June 26th. - Having so little distance to go, we resolved to cross, and camp in the neighbourhood of the Fort. My men were all busy with the crossing, so I rode on by myself, and, arriving in time to join Mr. McKay at dinner, had the pleasure of sharing in some fresh buffalo tongues which he had lately brought back with him from the plains, where some of his people were still engaged in a hunt. These tongues were excellent, as juicy and tender as possible, and came doubly welcome after the perpetual salt meat of the last ten days.

Early in the afternoon, the carts made their appearance, having got safely through considerable difficulties both at the river and the hill; and a place well separated from the Fort, though not far off, was fixed upon as the site of our encampment. I chose for my tent site a sandy level platform at the edge of a precipitous bank, 300 feet high, that overhangs Beaver Creek which is about a quarter of a mile across. It was a pretty place: as I sat on the camp-stool near my door, I could see to the very bottom of the deep ravine, and follow the windings of its course far upwards and downwards, till it lost itself in the distance on either side.

Two Indians, an Ojibway and a man of some different tribe, visited me and were treated to a dinner and a smoke. They were interested in my map of British America, and seemed quite able to understand it, making shrewd remarks about several topographical matters.

June 27th. - After a long consultation with the three McKays, I determined to attempt to pass to the Indian Elbow, going by a track that pretty closely followed the course of the river Qu'Appelle - The chief difficulty was to find a guide, for John McKay knew nothing whatever of that part of the country. Many of the Fort Ellice men were on the plains hunting buffalo, in a different direction, and others were afraid to risk their scalps among the anticipated Blackfoot war parties; but at length, a suitable person was discovered, a French half-breed named Pierre Numme,* said to be an excellent man for my purpose, who fortunately happened to be staying near the Fort. Pierre, however, put an extravagant value on his services, and I was obliged to promise him the immense pay of £25 for one month, and so on in proportion for any further period, - the term of service to be only six weeks, failing a new and separate agreement.

Two ox-carts came in that morning from the plains, bringing several fresh buffalo robes, - "robes," it must be understood, signifying skins with the hair on, as distinguished from those dressed without the hair and made into leather, which is simply known as "skins." They also brought four calves, funny little yellow things, very hot and tired after jolting such a distance in the carts, unsheltered from the powerful scorching sun. When taken young enough, these animals can be perfectly tamed; in proof of this, there was an instance close by, for at that very moment a two-year-old buffalo heifer was grazing about quite quietly on the neighbouring prairie, among the common dairy cows belonging to the establishment.