ife; but if there should exist somewhere in the regions of space that
happy Indian paradise where horses are never hungry and never tired,
Blackie, at least, will forgive the hand that sent him there, if he can
but see the heart that long regretted him.

Leaving Daniel in charge of the remaining horses, we crossed on foot the
fatal river, and with a single horse set out for Carlton. From the high
north bank I took one last look back at the South Saskatchewan-it lay in
its broad deep valley glittering in one great band of purest 'snow; but I
loathed the sight of it, while the small round open hole, dwarfed to a
speck by distance, marked the spot where my poor horse had found his
grave, after having carried me so faithfully through the long lonely
wilds. We had travelled about six miles when a figure appeared in sight,
coming towards us upon the same track. The new-comer proved to be a Cree
Indian travelling to Fort Pelly. He bore the name of the Starving Bull.
Starving Bull and his boy at once turned back With us towards Carlton. In
a little while a party of horsemen hove in sight: they had come out from
the fort to visit the South Branch, and amongst them was the Hudson Bay
officer in charge of the station. Our first question had reference to the
plague. Like a fire, it had burned itself out. There was no case then in
the fort, but out of the little garrison of some sixty souls no fewer
than thirty-two had perished! Four only had recovered of the thirty-six
who had taken the terrible infection.

We halted for dinner by the edge of the Duck Lake; midway between the
North and South Branches of the Saskatchewan. It was a rich, beautiful
country, although the snow lay some inches deep. Clumps of trees dotted
the undulating surface, and lakelets glittering in the bright sunshine
spread out in sheets of dazzling whiteness. The Starving Bull set himself
busily to work preparing our dinner. What it would have been under
ordinary circumstances, I cannot state; but, unfortunately for its
success on the present occasion, its preparation was attended with
unusual drawbacks. Starving Bull had succeeded in killing a skunk during
his journey. This performance, while highly creditable to his energy as a
hunter, was by no means conducive to his success, as a cook. Bitterly did
that skunk revente himself upon us who had borne no part in his
destruction. Pemmican is at no time a delicacy; but pemmican flavoured
with skunk was more than I