FOREST AND STREAM. 


CHAUDIERE FALLS, 
Photo by Dr. Andrew Graydon. 
“Tt is nothing,” I told her, “nothing but blood 
from my kill. I am as well as ever.” 
“But you might have been killed,” she cried. 
“You might have been killed. You are not’ go- 
ing hunting any more in this country of war par- 
ties. You have no business to hunt. You are a 
trader, and you are going to stay right here with 
me where it is safe to live.” 
Moccasin, poor fellow, died in less than an 
hour after we got him home, and the wailing 
of wite and relatives was heart-breaking to hear. 
It was a sad time for us all, and made us think 
of the uncertainty of life. Three of the kindliest 
and best loved ones in the whole tribe had gone 
from us in so short a time, in such an unlooked 
for manner. 
We did not get all of the robes that were 
tanned that winter; whiskey traders occasionally 
visited the camp, and by giving large quantities 
of very bad liquor, bartered for some of them. 
The Piegans also made frequent trips to Fort 
Benton to trade. But we did get 2,200 robes, to 
say nothing of deer, elk, beaver and other pelts, 
and were well satisfied. About April 1 we were 
home again at Fort Conrad, and Berry began at 
once to tear up the big bottom with his bull 
teams. -Of nights he used up many a sheet of 
paper figuring out the profit in raising oats, sixty 
bushels to the acre, and in the pork raising in- 
dustry, sixteen pigs to the sow twice a year—or 
maybe thrice, I forget which; anyhow, it all 
seemed very plain, and sure, on paper. More 
plows were bought, some Berkshire pigs were or- 
dered from the States, a ditch was dug to tap 
the Dry Fork of the Marias.. Yes, we were go- 
ing to be farmers for sure. 
Away down at the end of the bottom, where 
the Dry Fork and the Marias met, the women 
planted their little garden and erected a brush- 
roofed | summer house, under which they would 
sit in the heat of the day and watch their corn 
and pumpkins grow, morning and evening faith- 
fully irrigating them water 
I passed much time with them there, or 
with buckets of 
water, 
with rude pole 
goldeyes in the 
tening to their 
tales of the long ago. 
and line angled for catfish and 
deep hole nearby, the while lis- 
quaint songs and still quainter 
Time and again Nat-ah’-ki 
would say: ‘What happiness; what peace. Let 
us pray that it may last.” 
The Piegans drifted westward from the Bear’s 
Paw country and most of them returned to their 
agency, which was now located on Badger Creek, 
a tributary of the Marias, about fifty miles above 
the Fort. 
river from us and hunted antelope and deer, kill- 
ing an occasional buffalo bull. Reports from the 
Agency told of hard times up there. The agent 
was said to be starving the people, and they were 
already talking of moving back to the buffalo 
WALTER B. ANDERSON. 
[TO BE CONTINUED, | 
Some, however, encamped across the 
country. 
A Summer on the French River. 
BY DR, ANDREW GRAYDON. 
CAMPING among the Canadian Islands had al- 
ways been in contemplation, and so, when | was 
able to close my office doors, in the latter part 
of July, 1905, for a five weeks’ vacation, it was 
with bright expectations. 
The ride over the Buffalo, Rochester & Pitts- 
burg Railroad to Buffalo was full of pleasure and 
interest. It was very enjoyable to sit at the rear 
end of the observation car and watch the coun- 
try unfold before your eyes. The train service 
is good, and car accommodations excellent. The 
mountain scenery between Punxsutawney and 
Bradford is fine at many points. 
After a short wait and lunch at Buffalo I con- 
tinued my journey on the Grand Trunk Railroad 
and reached Toronto in good time. The next 
morning was spent viewing the many points of 
interest in which the city abounds. 
Our train left Toronto at 1:45 P. M. It was 
a double-header, filled with passengers and under 
the care of extremely courteous officials. The 
Grand Trunk Railroad took us through a_ very 
beautiful part of Canada. Prosperous farms and 
thriving towns lying on both sides of the route. 
The chain of charming lakes added greatly to the 
witchery of the scenery. A pleasing feature of 
this ride is the substantially built stations, placed 
in beautiful settings of flowers and smoothly 
trimmed grass. It speaks well for the manage- 
ment of the railroad to come upon these evi- 
dences of good taste. It is very refreshing to 
draw up to one of these little oases, after rush- 
ing for miles through the dust of railroad travel. 
We reached North Bay in good time for the 
comfortable bed we found at the Pacific Hotel. 
Sleep would have come promptly to our tired 
bodies, had it not been for the fact that a couple 
of little bell boys had chosen the hour of midnight 
to finish a wrestling bout, in an adjoining room. 
The noise of the struggles, clinches, falls, etc., 
kept me an unseen, reluctant participator for 
some time, 
Let me caution any one going to the French 
River to get some pretty good idea of the running 
time of the boat. It was wonderful the profound 
ignorance on this point I ran up against. After 
several trips up and down town | learned that 
the Hazel B. would not go out that day. 50, 
although only a couple of hours from my objec- 
tive point on the French, I was compelled to re- 
main over at North Bay twenty-four hours. It 
did not take long to exhaust all the points of 
interest about the town, read all the old papers, 
and still have time to spare. Hazel B. was due 
to start at 9 A. M., but it was 11 o’clock before 
we were off. It is a small boat, and fair sailer 
when the water is smooth. | a 
Captain McCall is a genial, obliging, gzood- 
