have
killed a bear?' But I passed by her without saying anything, and went
into my mother's lodge. After a few minutes, the old woman said, 'My
son, look in that kettle, and you will find a mouthful of beaver meat,
which a man gave me since you left us in the morning. You must leave
half of it for Wa-me-gon-a-biew, who has not yet returned from hunting,
and has eaten nothing to-day.' I accordingly ate the beaver meat, and
when I had finished it, observing an opportunity when she stood by
herself, I stepped up to her, and whispered in her ear, 'My mother, I
have killed a bear.' 'What do you say, my son?' said she. 'I have killed
a bear.' 'Are you sure you have killed him?' 'Yes.' 'Is he quite dead?'
'Yes.' She watched my face for a moment, and then caught me in her arms,
hugging and kissing me with great earnestness, and for a long time. I
then told her what my aunt had said to me, both going and returning, and
this being told to her husband when he returned, he not only reproved
her for it, but gave her a severe flogging. The bear was sent for, and,
as being the first I had killed, was cooked all together, and the
hunters of the whole band invited to feast with us, according to the
custom of the Indians. The same day one of the Crees killed a bear and a
moose, and gave a large share of the meat to my mother.

[Illustration]

One winter I hunted for a trader called by the Indians Aneeb, which
means an elm-tree. As the winter advanced, and the weather became more
and more cold, I found it difficult to procure as much game as I had
been in the habit of supplying, and as was wanted by the trader. Early
one morning, about mid-winter, I started an elk. I pursued until night,
and had almost overtaken him; but hope and strength failed me at the
same time. What clothing I had on me, notwithstanding the extreme
coldness of the weather, was drenched with sweat. It was not long after
I turned towards home that I felt it stiffening about me. My leggings
were of cloth, and were torn in pieces in running through the bush. I
was conscious I was somewhat frozen before I arrived at the place where
I had left our lodge standing in the morning, and it was now midnight.
I knew it had been the old woman's intention to move, and I knew where
she would go; but I had not been informed she would go on that day. As I
followed on their path, I soon ceased to suffer from cold, and felt that
sleepy sensation which I knew preceded the last stage of