Term*, Five Dollar* a Year. 
Ten Cent* a Copy. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, MAY <>, 1875. 
I Volume 1, Number 13. 
I 17 Clia(hnin>il. (CilyHall 8qr.) 
For Forest and Stream. 
Jjfc/i through the hckfaot mid 
§iau x §oi intrij. 
D URING the Summer of last year I was engaged as 
guide to the Northwest Mounted Police, a force or- 
ganized by the Canadian government for the suppression 
of the illicit whisky trade which was then being carried 
on by a gang of American desperadoes, whose headquar- 
ters were on the Bow River. After a protracted march 
over some seven or eight hundred miles of prairie, during 
which the force suffered considerably from loss of horses 
and cattle, we arrived about the 1st of last September at 
the Cypress Hills, the Winter resort of the Blackfeet In- 
dians, a chain of hills running parallel with the Rocky 
Mountains, and about one hundred miles east of them. 
On the 7th of the month I was ordered to start at once 
with dispatches for Fort Garry, at the junction of the Red 
and Assiniborne rivers, near which is situated the town of 
Winnipeg, the capital of the Province of Manitoba, a dis- 
tance of about eight hundred miles. I started from Cy- 
press Hills at three P. M. on the 7th, riding a black Indian 
mare, about fourteen hands high, carrying a regulation 
police saddle, same as light cavalry, valise and holsters 
filled with clothes, two blankets under saddle, oil skin sheet 
for sleeping on, and in which I also packed the dispatches, 
india rubber coat and sack, containing pemmican (dried 
buffalo meat) and biscuit, slung across crupper, and made 
to balance by tying its mouth and cutting a slit in the mid- 
dle so as to form saddle bags. I was armed with regula- 
tion “revolver, government pattern, and fifty rounds of ball 
cartridge for same, and was accompanied by a half breed 
guide, who was to have taken me to the Woody Mountains, 
where there was a depot of the British North American 
Boundary Commission, and I had charge of a man of the 
force whom I was to put on the road to an invalid depot of 
some mounted police, left behind on sick list, and with 
sick horses. After proceeding a distance of about sixteen 
miles, I camped on the banks of a creek in a severe btorm 
of wind and rain. 
The next morning we were up by daybreak, and having 
made a hurried repast we started in a blinding storm. The 
weather, however, improved, and we made steady progress 
in an easterly direction. The country was a level stretch 
of prairie, undiversified by wood or hills, and there beiug 
no trail we were dependant on the half breed for our route. 
Alter accomplishing about fifty miles we encamped for the 
night on the banks of a small lake, or rather swamp. Dur- 
ing the day I had had a shot at an untelope with the rifle 
of the man I had charge of, but missed, so had to sup off 
pemmican and biscuits. The next day we struck the point 
where the trails to the Woody Mountains and the police 
depot diverged. The man who was to have proceeded to 
the latter place now expressed his fears of proceeding 
alone, and nothing would induce him to leave me. I saw 
nothing for it but to accompany him, but the half breed 
refused to go out of the straight route to the Woody Moun- 
tains. I decided on parting with the guide, and set out for 
Old Woman’s Lake, where the depot had been left. 
Having made forty miles in an easterly direction, the 
trail being good, we were compelled to camp for the night 
without finding water beyond a chain of salt lakes. We 
resumed our journey at daybreak, and made Old Woman's 
Lake early in the afternoon, but found that the depot hud 
shifted its position. After some trouble we discovered it 
in an enormous caiion some five miles off, through which 
Old Woman’s Creek runs. I remained the rest of the day 
aad night in the police camp, having done thirty miles in 
that day. 
The next morning I started from the camp, and being 
put on a bad trail soon lost it altogether. I kept my course 
south but owing to not knowing whether the Boundary 
Commission depot was to the east or west of me I was 
afraid to persevere after nightfall, so wa9 forced to camp 
by a creek running north and south in a very tortuous chan- 
Bel, determining in the morning to endeavor to regain the 
police camp and make a fresh start. I was up before sun- 
rise, starting due north, but ere long struck a trail tending 
southwest, which I thought might lead to Bouudnry depot, 
and followed it about ten miles when I lost it again . I 
then decided to retrace my steps to where I started. On 
my way I lost my blankets by my mare buck- jumping 
the bucking, throwing them clean from under the saddle. 
I also lost my mails, which came unstrapped from behind. 
My dismay on discovering my lo9S may be better imagined 
than described. There was no track to try back on, and 
nothing but endiess prairie of long grass around me, with 
not a single landmark to assist my search. After a long 
hunt I discovered them by almost a miracle. I regained 
my original stavting point, and had not traveled far north 
when I fell in with two half breed Indians from Woody 
Mountain, who put me on a trail to the Boundary Commis- 
sion depot. Night falling, I was unable to proceed far- 
ther, and so made my camp. I arrived at the depot the 
next day at three P. M., the whole distance from the police 
camp being only forty miles. This had taken me two and 
a half days instead of one, as I had expected, and all my 
provisions were expended. At Woody Mountain I pur- 
chased a fresh horse for $185, a roan of about five years 
old, Indian breed, fourteen hands and one inch in height, 
and one of the most perfectly shaped little animals I ever 
saw, and, as he afterwards proved himself, of wonderful 
staying powers. He would eat nothing but grass, and one 
might as well have offered him sovereigns as grain. He 
would only drink from running Btreams, and had never 
been shod. 
The next morning I left the Woody Mountains and made 
for Wood Eod depot, 180 mile9 east. The trail was bad, 
and I had only got over twenty-five miles when a fearful 
storm came on — hail, wind, and lightning. I camped in a 
large cafion, and passed a wretched night, and my provi- 
sions, consisting of boiled pork and biscuit, were com- 
pletely soddened by the wet, while my blankets and cloth- 
ing were also thoroughly drenched. Next morning the 
weather was fine, but a gale was blowing from the north- 
west. My course lay through the gorges that approach the 
range of hills called the "Cotean," and I halted at noon, 
having fouud traces of a large Indian camp. I now kept 
careful watch, and soon caught sight of their lodges. I 
saw it would be impossible to get by unperceived, and so 
determined to ride boldly on. Some Sioux scouts rode out 
to meet me. My vocabulary consisted of two words, which 
signified “policeman” and "Englishman;” but I managed 
by signs to intimate I could not accept their invitation to 
accompany them to the camp, being pressed for time. I 
felt considerably relieved when I got fairly away from 
them. I had great difficulty in finding water for my camp, 
and was led astray several times by the deceptive salt lakes. 
The weather was bitterly cold, and sleep was nearly out of 
the question. I had that day ridden fifty miles due east. 
I resumed crossing the Cotean Range next morning, the 
wind increasing iu violence, and by four P. M. blowing a 
gale. I suddenly came in sight of what I took for a large 
Indian camp, but on a nearer approach it turned out to be 
an ox team of the North American Boundary Commission, 
returning from the Summer work. Having got over forty 
miles I halted, dined and slept with the officer in charge. 
It was freezing hard, and blowing a hurricane. I started 
next morning with the ox train, and kept with them for 
ten miles, when I pushed on twenty-six miles further and 
reached Long River (supposed to be the same as the Souri 
River) and camped there. I slept well, but had I known— 
a 9 I discovered next morning— that my head was resting on 
the grave of a Scotch half breed, who had been drowned 
in crossing the river the preceding Spring, my slumbers 
might not have been so placid. A simple wooden cross 
planted at his head marked the spot. 
I made eight miles the next morning before breakfast, 
when I came to the second crossing of the river. Towards 
the afternoon a terrible gale set in, by evening it com- 
menced freezing, and snow 6eemed imminent. As good 
luck would have it, I came to a haystack left by the Boun- 
dary Commissioners, knowing that if snow fell this would 
bo the only means of preserving my life. 1 pulled out 
some hay, aud making a holo to lie in thus passed the 
night. 
Early the next day I arrived at the Wood End Boundary 
Commission depot, and turning out my horse remained 
there till next day. I did not leave Wood Eud till ten A. 
M. next morning, so as to give my horse a longer rest, in- 
tending to make for the crossing of the Souri River, dis- 
tance fifty miles. I halted for dinner by a spring, called 
by the hunters “St. Peter’s Spring,” from 6omo legend. 
On resuming my route I lost the track, and camped on a 
perfectly fiat prairie in a storm of thunder, rain, and wind. 
I rose at daybreak (rain, wiud, and mist continuing), and 
endeavored to find the trail. I saw my horse feeding about 
a quarter of a mile off, nud started to bring him in, for- 
getting to mark carefully the spot where I had slept. On 
reaching my horse I could not tell in tho least where my 
camp was, even whether it was north or south of me. I 
struck south, leading the horse, and traveled some way till 
I thought it time to try north. I at last found my last 
night's trail, but the difficulty then was to know whether 
to follow it to the east or west, as I might very probably 
go from instead of to tho spot where I had left my saddle, 
etc. I knew, however, if I struck the Souri River that the 
spot must lie between where I was aud it, and my anticipa- 
tions were correct; but I did not find my camp till nearly 
noon. I now crossed the river, and keeping duo south 
along its banks came to Boundary Commission road, which 
I knew would lead me safely to Fort Garry. I did not 
proceed very far, my horse being tired, and I camped at a 
creek. During the night I awoke, and fancied rheumatism 
was coming on in my right arm. I burst into a cold per- 
spiration at the bare thought, knowing full well that if it 
did I could never saddle my horse, und consequently it 
would have been a close shave for me; luckily it passed off. 
I again came to a crossing of tho Souri River about noon 
the next day, and rested for two hours. After proceeding 
twenty-five miles farther east I camped for the night iu a 
small clump of bushes. I could find no water, and had 
done that day about sixty miles. 
I reached Turtle Mountain next morning. Tho wind 
was very high, and it threatened to snow. My way lay 
across swamps and ravines, and I got badly bogged twice. 
Once I had to let go everything and pull first my horse and 
then my traps out. The poor beast was terribly used up, 
and it was much 'as I could do to get him by evening to a 
depot of the Boundary Commissioners, situated about half 
way across the mountains. I was forced to give my horse 
a rest the next day, he being totally unfit to proceed. I 
started again at daybreak next morning, and having got 
over sixty mile9 camped at a creek called Badger Creek. 
Next day I traveled fifty more east, making Pembina 
Mountains, where I camped for the night. The weather 
was very cold, but fine. I came next day to the house of 
a half breed named Grant, twenty-five miles distant from 
the settlement. After going five miles farther my horse 
went lame from a “sweeney." Phad to lead him the re- 
maining twenty miles to Duffcrin Barracks, the headquar- 
ters of the Boundary Commissioners, where I left him in a 
paddock and took the steamer down Red River to Fort 
Garry, which I reached early next morniDg. 
It was the 28th of September, and my entire Journey 
had thus occupied, including rests, but twenty-one wholo 
days, the fastest time known in the Province. Tho feat 
was looked upon by many as something uncommon, even 
in that country of hard traveling. Previous to my separa- 
tion from Cypress Hills the half breed guides thcmselvea 
laughed at the idea, aud prophesied I should never reach 
my destination alive, and had I been caught by the snow 
storm which every year is expected about that time, and 
which for tho two previous years had happened on the 
23d and 25th of September, their prediction would cer- 
tainly have been verified. The same ride had never before 
been accomplished, tho longest one having been made by 
the well known half breed Marion, who rode from Woody 
Mountain to Fort Garry, but who had a spare horse, and 
could thus carry tents, etc., with him. 
a 
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