The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 



a leaf. No wonder, for the treatment, although 

 successful, is brutally severe. 



I rode for some time a roan mare that had 

 been broken in this way. She had been ridden 

 by my English boy, Alfred, for a few days before 

 I essayed to mount her, and had been running 

 wild in the mountains a month previously. She 

 was a wall-eyed, tricky beast at best, and would 

 kick viciously if her heels were approached. I 

 gave ten dollars for her, which was cheap enough, 

 and I bought five very weedy and useless speci- 

 mens, that had never even been handled, for 

 five dollars each. These would follow my pack- 

 horses at a few yards' distance, but would not 

 allow me to approach them. Horses of this 

 stamp were shot at various places in the moun- 

 tains by my Indians as bait for grizzlies about 

 all they were fit for. 



The Indians in British Columbia are a poor 

 lot. They are of the Siwash tribe, and their 

 language varies in different localities, that of 

 the trade being " Chinook " a combination of 

 Indian and English words jumbled up together. 

 They live in rancherees, or small settlements, 

 and their huts are extremely dirty and badly 

 built. No whisky or spirits is allowed by law 

 to be given or sold to any Indians, under any 

 circumstances. Under its influence they go 

 wild, and for this reason a heavy fine is inflicted 

 on any one who thus supplies them. The squaws 



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