ught to be bestowed upon fatigue during the last two hours;
but I much doubt if the spur-goaded horse, when he stretches himself at
night to rest his weary limbs, feels the less tired because the miles
flew behind him all unheeded under the influence of the spur-rowel. When
morning broke we were in motion. The air was fresh and cool; not a
mosquito was visible. The green banks of Red River looked pleasant to the
eye as the "International" puffed along between them, rolling the
tranquil water before her in a great muddy wave, which broke amidst the
red and grey willows on the shore. Now and then the eye caught glimpses
of the prairies through the skirting of oak woods on the left, but to the
right there lay an unbroken line of forest fringing deeply the Minnesota
shore. The "International" was a curious craft; she measured about 130
feet in length, drew only two feet of water, and was propelled by an
enormous wheel placed over her stern. Eight summers of varied success and
as many winters of total inaction had told heavily against her river
worthiness; the sun had cracked her roof and sides, the rigour of the
Winnipeg winter left its trace on bows and hull. Her engines were a
perfect marvel of patchwork--pieces of rope seemed twisted around crank
and shaft, mud was laid thickly on boiler and pipes, little jets and
spurts of steam had a disagreeable way of coming out from places not
supposed to be capable of such outpourings. Her capacity for going on
fire seemed to be very great; each gust of wind sent showers of sparks
from the furnaces flying along the lower deck, the charred beams of which
attested the frequency of the occurrence. Alarmed at the prospect of
seeing my conveyance wrapped in flames, I shouted vigorously for
assistance, and will long remember the look of surprise and pity with
which the native regarded me as he leisurely approached with the
water-bucket and cast its contents along the smoking deck.

I have already mentioned the tortuous course which the Red River has
wound for itself through these level northern prairies. The windings of
the river more than double the length of its general direction, and the
turns are so sharp that after steaming a mile the traveller will often
arrive at a spot not one hundred yards distant from where he started.

Steaming thus for one day and one night down the Red River of the North,
enjoying no variation of scene or change of prospect, but nevertheless
enjoying beyond