HUMAN NATURE ON THE RIVER 23 



that the Indian has made them so by allowing them 

 to come into this country, that the Indian is very poor 

 because he never was properly compensated, and that 

 therefore all he can get out of said white man is much 

 less than the white man owes him. 



As we rounded a point one day a Lynx appeared 

 statuesque on a stranded cake of ice, a hundred yards 

 off, and gazed at the approaching boats. True to their 

 religion, the half-breeds seized their rifles, the bullets 

 whistled harmlessly about the "Peeshoo" — whereupon 

 he turned and walked calmly up the slope, stopping to 

 look at each fresh volley, but finally waved his stumpy 

 tail and walked unharmed over the ridge. Distance 

 fifty yards. 



On May 28 we reached Fort MacMurray. 



Here I saw several interesting persons: Miss Chris- 

 tine Gordon, the postmaster; Joe Bird, a half-breed 

 with all the advanced ideas of a progressive white 



man; and an American ex-patriot, G , a tall, 



raw-boned Yank from Illinois. He was a typical 

 American of the kind that knows little of America 

 and nothing of Europe; but shrewd and successful in 

 spite of these limitations. In appearance he was not 

 unlike Abraham Lincoln. He was a rabid American, 

 and why he stayed here was a question. 



He had had no detailed tidings from home for years, 

 and I never saw a man more keen for the news. On 

 the banks of the river we sat for an hour while he plied 

 me with questions, which I answered so far as I could. 

 He hung on my lips; he interrupted only when there 

 seemed a halt in the stream; he revelled in all the de- 



