1906-7. TRANSACTIONS. 105 



pouch. Those three fellows, having taken a farewell dram and 

 lighted fresh pipes, go on brisk and merry, playing numerous 

 pranks. Domin Livernois, with a young mare, the property of 

 Mr. Langlois, loaded with weeds for smoking, an old worsted 

 bag (madame's property), some squashes and potatoes, a small 

 keg of fresh water, and two young whelps howling. Next goes 

 Livernois' young horse, drawing a travaille (that is, a couple of 

 long poles with a cross-piece, dragging on the ground, very much 

 like a pair of shafts without the waggon) loaded with his baggage 

 and a large worsted mashguemcate (whatever that may be) 

 belonging • to Madame Langlois. Next appears Madame 

 Cameron's mare kicking, rearing and snorting, hauling a travaille 

 loaded with a bag of flour, cabbages, turnips, onions, a small 

 keg of water, and a large kettle of broth. Michel Langlois, 

 who is master of the band, now comes on leading a horse that 

 draws a travaille nicely covered with a new painted tent, under 

 which his daughter and Mrs. Cameron lie at full length, very sick; 

 this covering or canopy has a pretty effect in the caravan, and 

 appears at a great distance in the plains. Madame Langlois 

 brings up the rear of the human beings, following the travaille 

 with a slow step and melancholy air, attending to the wants of 

 her daughter, who, notwithstanding her sickness, can find no 

 other expressions of gratitude to her parents than by calling 

 them dogs, fools, beasts, etc. The rear guard consists of a long 

 train of twenty dogs, some for sleighs, some for game, and others 

 of no use whatever, except to snarl and destroy meat. The 

 total forms a procession nearly a mile long, and appears like a 

 large band of Assiniboines." 



A curiously vivid glimpse this into the lighter side of the 

 life of the western fur-trader, whose very environment brought 

 him so close to the simplicity and savagery amid which he moved. 

 And the savagery is never far off. Brutality and murder be- 

 come commonplace, and Henry gives little more weight to a 

 shooting affray than he does to the fate of his kitchen garden; 

 rather less, in fact, if only Indians are involved. 



Note the grim humour of this paragraph, doubly grim be- 

 cause quite unconscious: "Le Boeuf stabbed his young wife 

 in the arm, Little Shell almost beat his old mother's brains out 

 with a club, and there was terrible fighting among them. I 

 sowed garden seed." One has to read the unvarnished narratives 

 of such men as Alexander Henry to realize the hideous brutality 



