i- - 



ii6 IN THE LAND OF THE GREAT SPIRIT 



his canoe was tossed like a gopher-nut. Never so 

 fiercely beat the sun upon the forest but suddenly it 

 was Fall with poplar yellow and maple red ; and then 

 on the land fell the grip of winter and bound it in 

 iron from farther south than he could wander to the 

 ice-fields of the Hudson's Bay. From all this then 

 there was no appeal. The Indian knew it. He con- 

 fessed it in the name he gave his home — Manitou Ba, 

 the Land of the Great Spirit. 



It was in autumn, late September. I had come 

 up from California to hunt moose. A seven days' 

 journey or so brings one from San Francisco to 

 Winnipeg. And about Winnipeg itself lie stretched 

 the great prairies where the bison used to roam. 

 There are at least two points about these prairies 

 V worth noticing — viz., the slews and the trails. 



These slews are curious. They are about as wide 

 as the dykes in Holland, and often run for a consider- 

 able distance quite as straight. And yet they are of 

 course absolutely inartificial. They originate, it would 

 seem, in springs, and then, as the action of the water 

 wears away for itself a bed, they become in time the 

 drains ot the prairie. When they are damp or filled 

 with water they are often of great service as obstacles 

 which a prairie fire cannot pass. But when they are 



