THE GREAT NORTHWEST 241 



tains. It parted in two, the back portion running into 

 the front and smashing things up very generally. 

 What a calamity it would have been — what a rude 

 shock to the American feminine heart — had that train 

 and its precious cargo been destroyed by fire I How 

 many of the " lords of creation " would have been 

 obliged to put their hand a little deeper into their 

 Christmas pocket if the heart of their better-half 

 should chance to be filled with love for a new 

 sealskin ! But, thanks to a providential decree that 

 ordered otherwise, the calamity didn't happen. The 

 train passed in safety, and its beloved cargo, having 

 survived the boisterous gales of the Atlantic, came 

 back to us, no doubt, in the shape of that most beau- 

 tiful of all the adorning apparel of woman, the warm, 

 glossy, cozy, fascinatingly lovely, but awfully expen- 

 sive, sealskin sacque. 



We reached Crane Lake on September 20th. Dur- 

 ing our ride in the hunting car "Yellowstone" we 

 had matured our plans for a big day's sport, and we 

 got it. I saw more sport in that one day — the 21st — 

 than I ever saw before in a month. To briefly sketch 

 the exciting incidents of the day would, perhaps, prove 

 interesting, as all mankind, particularly the Anglo- 

 Saxon part of it, has an instinctive interest, more or 

 less keen, in everything that relates to hunting. 



There were four of us. We got up long before 

 break of day as silently as we could, so as not to dis- 



