Sunday at Fort Churchill. 127 



actively engaged washing, or combing, or shaving, or fixing on an 

 unruly collar that was too short or too long, or torn at the button- 

 hole. By nine o'clock the work of transformation was complete ; 

 and, let me say, the change was such that almost every man was 

 filled with astonishment at the appearance of the others. There 

 was our Mr. Fox, the Expedition photograph artist, for instance. 

 He had become careless of his appearance, possibly because every 

 one else had become the same, and also because his whole energies 

 had been fully concentrated on picture making and picture taking. 

 To see him was to see a camera in one hand and a set of wooden 

 legs in the other, with a package of prepared plates under each arm. 

 But the idea of going .to church was sufficient, for the moment, to 

 tear him from the idol of his heart. He laid aside his photograph- 

 ing paraphernalia long enough to black his shoes and tie on a pair 

 of patent leather leggings, to adjust a stand-up collar, and to 

 straighten out a pair of long-neglected kid gloves ; but, no longer. 

 Not he ! Instead of a cane he carried, on the way to the house of 

 God, in his right hand, the legs of his instrument, and instead of a 

 prayer-book he pressed to his bosom, under his left arm, the same 

 old camera, fully determined to photograph both preacher and 

 congregation : a determination which, as the reader will see, he 

 carried out to the fullest extent. 



We started from the Neptune at nine o'clock in a boat manned 

 by four of the ship's crew. The party consisted of Lieut. Gordon, 

 Capt. Sopp, the aforesaid artist, the chief-engineer, Mr. Laperriere, 

 and the author. Three miles of the distance were made in the boat, 

 the other mile overland, and the whole journey was accomplished 

 in less than an hour. The little village, at the foot of a hill, burst 

 upon our view while we were upon its summit. There were not 

 more than a dozen buildings, and these were closely huddled together, 

 some of them painted a sort of dull red. It is called the New Fort — 

 I cannot tell why ; because it is very ancient, and was never in any 

 way connected with a fort — unless it be for the reason that it is not 

 as old as old Fort Churchill at the mouth of the river, and that it 

 took the place of that fort as the abode of the Hudson's Bay Com- 

 pany's officers about a century ago. 



