y filled him with rum. It was twenty-four hours
before he could speak.

"I don't know these modern theories about hallucination and delusions
and things," concluded Mr. Hall, gazing reflectively on the memories of
that night. "I'm not much on romance and that kind of thing! I don't
believe in ghosts. I don't know what it was. All I know is it scared
me so it saved my life, and it saved the lives of the rest, too; for
the relief party got out in time, though they didn't see a sign of any
Indian camp. I don't know what to make of it, unless years ago some
Indian camp had been starved or massacred there, and owing to my
unusual condition I got into some clairvoyant connection with that
past. However, there it is; and it would take a pretty strong argument
to persuade me I didn't see anything. All the other things I thought I
saw on that trip certainly existed, and it would be a queer thing if
the one thing which saved my life did not exist. That's all I know,
and you can make anything you like of it."

So while Canada resents being regarded as a fur land, her domain of the
North sends down something more than roaring winds--though winds are
good things to shake dead leaves off the soul as well as off trees.
Her domain of the North rears more than fur-bearing animals. It rears
a race with hardihood, with dauntlessness, with quiet dogged unspeaking
courage; and that is something to go into the blood of a nation. A man
who will run on snowshoes eighteen hundred miles behind a dog-train as
a Senator I know did in his youth, and a woman of middle life, who will
"come out"--as they say in the North--and study medicine at her own
expense that she may minister to the Indians where she lives--are not
types of a race to lie down whipped under Fate. Canada will do things
in the world of nations shortly. She may do them rough-handed; but
what she does will depend on the national ideals she nurtures to-day;
and into those ideals has entered the spirit of the Domain of the North.

CHAPTER XVIII

FINDING HERSELF

I

One of the questions which an outsider always asks of Canada and of
which the Canadian never thinks is--Why is Newfoundland not a part of
Canada? Why has the lonely little Island never entered confederation?
On the map Newfoundland looks no larger than the area of Manitoba
before the provincial boundaries were extended to Hudson Bay. In
reality, area has little to do with Newfoundland's importance