238 THE INDIANS AND THEIR DOGS. 



these delicacies, and so renew our regrets at being deprived 

 of them. After all, this was a just punishment of the 

 gluttony on whose altar we had cowardly sacrificed, instead 

 of conforming to the sobriety of the camel of the desert. 



Before giving themselves up to repose, all our Indians 

 threw themselves on their knees, and, with rosary in hand, 

 recited in a low voice a long Latin prayer, of which you 

 may be sure they did not understand a word, though it 

 seemed very familiar to them. I confess I was utterly 

 unable to make out whether it was a pater or an ave, a 

 litany or a psalm. 



While they were thus praying, an accident occurred, 

 which greatly diverted Maclean and myself. The dogs 

 brought with us for hunting purposes had been relegated 

 by the Indians to the exterior of our temporary asylum. 

 With the view of rendering them hardier, and more eager 

 in the chase, they had been kept without food, and pre- 

 vented from even approaching the fire. The poor beasts 

 prowled around our hut of snow, and we saw each of 

 them in turn insinuate his muzzle through the doorway, 

 and cast envious glances at their masters, so warmly in- 

 stalled before a blazing fire. 



At the moment the Indians began their paternosters, 

 the hounds profited by the general inattention to glide in, 

 one after the other, and crouch down before the fire. 

 Unfortunately, one of them touched the heel of the most 

 devout of the Redskins, who, very much irritated at the 

 interruption, turned hastily round to see what intruder 

 had disturbed his prayers. Without laying aside his 

 pipe, which he had not ceased to hold in' his mouth, he 

 arose, and pouring at the animal a broadside of the most 

 expressive oaths in the French language, drove him away 



