298 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



In a few minutes he triumphantly hauled up the rifle 

 and a little later the shotgun, none the worse. 



Now, we had saved everything except the surplus 

 provisions and my little camera, trifling matters, in- 

 deed; so it was with feelings of triumph that we went 

 on south that day. 



In the afternoon, as we were tracking up the last part 

 of the Boiler Rapid, Billy at the bow, Rob on the shore, 

 the line broke, and we were only saved from another 



dreadful disaster by Billy's nerve and quickness; for 

 he fearlessly leaped overboard, had the luck to find 

 bottom, and held the canoe's head with all his strength. 

 The rope was mended and a safe way was found. 

 That time I realized the force of an Indian reply to a 

 trader who sought to sell him a cheap rope. "In the 

 midst of a rapid one does not count the cost of the 

 line." 



At night we camped in a glorious red sunset, just 

 above the Boiler Rapid. On the shore was a pile of 

 flour in sacks, inscribed in Cree, "Gordon his flour." 



Here it was, the most prized foreign product in the 

 country, lying unprotected by the highway, and no 

 man seemed to think the owner foolish. Whatever 

 else these Indians are, they are absolutely honest. 



