DOWN THE MACKENZIE RIVER 35 



across the head of the delta and up the Peel River eigh- 

 teen or twenty miles to Fort Macpherson and the north- 

 ern limits of the Hudson's Bay Company's domain at that 

 time. For many years this post had been under the 

 charge of John Firth, an old Orkneyman with a grey 

 beard halfway to his waist. Some years before he had 

 reached the age for pensioning and retirement, and had 

 gone out to live in Winnipeg. But Winnipeg was not 

 far enough north for him, and after a year of unhappiness 

 he begged to be allowed back into the Company's service 

 and had come north to Macpherson to take charge again. 

 I am writing this in 1922 and have just learned that Mr. 

 Firth has retired a second time, but now to live in a little 

 house near the post that has been under his charge for 

 the better part of half a century. Like most of the north- 

 ern men of the Hudson's Bay Company, he wants to 

 spend his last days where he has spent his best days. A 

 few of the retired officers live in some southerly land, 

 such as Ontario or Scotland, but nearly always through 

 family reasons. They have children to educate. I have 

 never known one kept south by family duties who is not 

 unhappy there and longing for the North. 



I said good-bye at Macpherson to the Bishop and to 

 John Anderson, and the Wrigley steamed back south. My 

 only connection with the outside world now was Elihu 

 Stewart, the Chief Forester of Canada, who was going 

 to walk eighty miles west across the mountains to the 

 Bell River where canoes would meet him to take him 

 south to the Yukon River. There he would get a steamer 

 upstream to Dawson and White Horse and a railway to 

 carry him south from there to the north Pacific Ocean at 

 Skagway. Partly because he needed help and partly be- 

 cause I was reluctant to cut the last threads that bound 



