The Winnipeg Wolf 
several important packets. He was an expert 
Dog-driver, which usually means relentlessly 
cruel. He set off blithely down the river 
in the morning, after the several necessary 
drinks of whiskey. He expected to be gone 
a week, and would then come back with 
twenty dollars in his pocket, and having thus 
provided the sinews of war, would carry out 
the plan of elopement. Away they went down 
the river on the ice. The big Dogs pulled 
swiftly but sulkily as he cracked the long whip 
and shouted, “Allez, allez, marches.’ They 
passed at speed by Renaud’s shanty on the 
bank, and Paul, cracking his whip and running 
behind the train, waved his hand to Ninette 
as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole 
with the sulky Dogs and drunken driver disap- 
peared around the bend—and that was the 
last ever seen of Fiddler Paul. 
That evening the Huskies came back singly to 
Fort Garry. They were spattered with frozen 
blood, and were gashed in several places. But 
strange to tell they were quite “ unhungry.” 
Runners went on the back trail and recov- 
ered the packages. They were lying on the 
313 
—~ 
= a 
ier tosanis 
, Re Ties ne se 
igi de OTS 
