278 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



There was no good reason why we should not leave 

 Chipewyan in three hours. But the engineer of my 

 tug had run across an old friend ; they wanted to have 

 a jollification, as of course the engine was " hopelessly 

 out of order." But we got away at 7 next day — my 

 four men and the tug's three. At the wheel was a 

 half-breed — David MacPherson — who is said to be a 

 natural-born pilot, and the best in the country. Al- 

 though he never was on the Upper Slave before, and 

 it is an exceedingly difficult stream with its intermin- 

 able, intricate, shifting shallows, crooked, narrow 

 channels, and impenetrable muddy currents, his "nose 

 for water" is so good that he brought us through at 

 full speed without striking once. Next time he will be 

 qualified to do it by night. 



In the grove where we camped after sundown were 

 the teepee and shack of an Indian (Chipewyan) Brayno 

 (probably Brenaud). This is his hunting and trapping 

 ground, and has been for years. No one poaches on it; 

 that is unwritten law; a man may follow a wounded 

 animal into his neighbour's territory, but not trap 

 there. The nearest neighbour is 10 miles off. He gets 

 3 or 4 Silver Foxes every year, a few Lynx, Otter, Mar- 

 ten, etc. 



Bellalise was somewhat of a character. About 6 

 feet 4 in height, with narrow, hollow chest, very large 

 hands and feet and a nervous, restless way of flinging 

 himself about. He struck me as a man who was killing 

 himself with toil beyond his physical strength. He was 

 strongly recommended by the Hudson's Bay Company 

 people as a "good man." I liked his face and manners, 



