WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE 27 



across the Point to the Athabaska again, then up to 



the Landing — 150 rough miles in four days. These 

 exploits I had to find out for myself later on, but 

 much more important to me at the time was the fact 

 thai he was a first-class cook, a steady, cheerful worker, 

 and a capable guide as far as Great Slave Lake. 



The Athabaska below Fort MacMurray is a noble 

 stream, one-third of a mile wide, deep, steady, un- 



n 



Floating clown the Slave 



marred; the banks are covered with unbroken virginal 

 forests of tall white poplar, balsam poplar, spruce, and 

 birch. The fire has done no damage here as yet, the 

 axe has left no trace, there are no houses, no sign of 

 man except occasional teepee poles. I could fancy 

 myself floating down the Ohio two hundred years ago. 

 These w r ere bright days to be remembered, as we 

 drifted down its placid tide in our ample and com- 

 fortable boat, with abundance of good things. Calm, 

 lovely, spring weather; ducks all along the river; plenty 

 of food, which is the northerner's idea of bliss; plenty 

 of water, which is the river-man's notion of joy; plenty 

 of leisure, which is an element in mosl men's heaven, 

 for we had merely to float with the stream, three miles 

 an hour, except when we landed to eat or sleep. 



