MEETING OF THE WILD MEN 203 



for the "barbarians" of the forest would have done just the 

 same had no priest been there — just as I have seen them do 

 scores and scores of times. In fact, in some sections of the 

 forest the native wilderness man — red, white, or half-breed — 

 who does not, is not the rule, but the exception. Then, too — 

 unless one's ears are closed to such sounds — one may oc- 

 casionally hear the voyageurs of the "North canoe" and the 

 "York boat" brigades, while straining on the tracking line, 

 singing, among other hymns : 



Onward, Christian soldiers, 



Marching as to war, 

 With the Cross of Jesus, 



Going on before. 



And, furthermore, I wonder if the fiction-reading public will 

 believe that the majority of the men in the fur brigades always 

 partake of the holy sacrament before departing upon their 

 voyages? Nevertheless, it is the truth — though of course 

 truth does not agree with the orgies of gun-play that spring 

 from the weird imaginations of the stay-at-home authors, who, 

 in their wild fancy, people the wilderness with characters from 

 the putrescence of civilization. It is time these authors were 

 enlightened, for a man, native to the wilderness, is a better 

 man . . . more honest, more chivalrous, more generous, 

 and — at heart, though he talks less about it — more God- 

 respecting . . . than the man born in the city. That is 

 something the public should never forget; for if the public re- 

 members that, then the authors of wilderness stories will 

 soon have to change their discordant tune. 



Yes, it is true, every one of those wild men said his evening 

 prayer and then, with his blanket wrapped about him, lay down 

 upon his thick, springy mattress of fir-brush, with his feet 

 toward the fire, and slumbered as only a decent, hard-working 



