Alexander at the mouth of the Winnipeg River to engage guides for the
brigades of boats which had still to come--two regiments of Canadian
Militia. And here let us not-forget the men who, following in the
footsteps of the regular troops, were now only a few marches behind their
more fortunate comrades. To the lot of these two regiments of Canadian
Volunteers fell the same hard toil of oar and portage which we have
already described. The men composing these regiments were stout athletic
fellows, eager for service, tired of citizen life, and only needing the
toil of a campaign to weld them into as tough and resolute a body of men
as ever leader could desire.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

To Fort Garry--Down the Winnipeg--Her Majesty's Royal Mail--Grilling a
Mail-bag--Running a Rapid--Up the Red River-A dreary Bivouac--The
President bolts--The Rebel Chiefs--Departure of the Regular Troops.

I TOOK a very small canoe, manned by three Indians--father and two
sons--and, with provisions for three days, commenced the descent of the
river of rapids. How we shot down the hissing waters in that tiny craft!
How fast we left the wooded shores behind us, and saw the-lonely isles
flit by as the powerful current swept us like a leaf upon its bosom!

It was late of the afternoon of the 15th August when I left for the last
time the Lake of the Woods. Next night our camp was made below the
Eagle's Nest, seventy miles from the Portage-du-Rat. A wild storm burst
upon us at night-fall, and our bivouac was a damp and dreary one. The
Indians lay under the canoe; I sheltered as best I could beneath a huge
pine-tree. My oil-cloth was only four feet in length-a shortcoming on the
part of its feet which caused mine to suffer much discomfort. Besides, I
had Her Majesty's royal mail to keep dry, and, with the limited liability
of my oil-cloth in the matter of length, that became no easy task--two
bags of letters and papers, home letters and papers, too, for the
Expedition. They had been flung into my: canoe when leaving Rat Portage,
and I had spent the first day in-sorting them as we swept along, and now
they were getting wet in spite of every effort to the contrary. I made
one bag into a pillow, but the rain came through the big pine-tree,
splashing down through the branches, putting out my fire and drenching
mail-bags and blankets.

Daylight came at last, but still the rain hissed down, making it no easy
matter to boil our kettle and fry our bit