led about 150 miles
in three days and a half.

Fort Pitt was destitute of fresh dogs or drivers, and consequently a
delay of some days became necessary before my onward journey could be
resumed. In the absence of dogs and drivers Fort Pitt, however, offered
small-pox to its visitors. A case had broken out a few days previous to
my arrival impossible to trace in any way, but probably the result of
some infection conveyed into the fort during the terrible visitation of
the autumn. I have already spoken of the power which the Indian possesses
of continuing the ordinary avocations of his life in the presence of
disease. This power he also possesses under that most terrible
affliction-the loss of sight. Blindness is by no means an uncommon
occurrence among the tribes of the Saskatchewan. The blinding glare of
the snow-covered plains, the sand in summer, and, above all, the dense
smoke of the tents, where the fire of wood, lighted in the centre, fills
the whole lodge with a smoke which is peculiarly trying to the sight-all
these causes render ophthalmic affections among the Indians a common
misfortune. Here is the story of a blind Cree who arrived at Fort Pitt
one day weak with starvation: From a distant camp he had started five
days before, in company with his wife. They had some skins to trade, so
they loaded their dog and set out on the march--the woman led the way,
the blind man followed next, and the dog brought up the rear. Soon they
approached a plain upon which buffalo were feeding. The dog, seeing the
buffalo, left the trail, and, carrying the furs with him, gave chase.
Away out of sight he went, until there was nothing for it but to set out
in pursuit of him. Telling her husband to wait in this spot until she
returned, the woman now started after the dog. Time passed,--it was
growing late, and the wind swept coldly over the snow. The blind man began
to grow uneasy; "She has lost her way," he said to himself; "I will go
on, and we may meet." He walked on--he called aloud, but there was no
answer; go back he could not; he knew by the coldness of the air that
night had fallen on the plain, but day and night were alike to him. He
was alone--he was lost. Suddenly he felt against his feet the rustle of
long sedgy grass--he stooped down and found that he had reached the
margin of a frozen lake. He was tired, and it was time to rest; so with
his knife he cut a quantity of long dry grass, and, making a bed for
himself on the