feel on one's face the soft-handed wind that is seldom
still. This is the kindly unrestricted breeze which brings gifts to
the North and West. It blesses the grain by swaying it to and fro, for
the word "bless" means literally to fructify. On some such day as this
I will come back here from the dead.

On this hill, the Hudson's Bay Company, the world's oldest trust, have
erected their storehouse and factor's residence. These are log
buildings, austerely square and ugly in the extreme. In the factor's
garden is an old sundial which adds the needed touch of romance to the
place; also, it connotes a fine leisureliness.

The erstwhile typical regime of a Hudson's Bay fort is a phase of
existence which shortly will be sponged off human memory. It has never
been as fully explained to me as I could desire, but as nearly as I can
make out, the staff of a well-manned post consisted of the factor and
chief factor, the trader and chief trader, an accountant, a postmaster,
two or more clerks, a cooper, a carpenter, a blacksmith, and labourers,
the work of the last mentioned being to haul water, cut wood, and
secure meat. There were also as many cooks as required. Food was
sometimes scarce, so that the men were required to lick their platters
clean. Contrariwise, they drank not a little of heady beverages which
they are said to have "carried well."

The Indian's idea of a house is a different one to the trader's. It is
not a place to be lived in, but exists merely as a shield from the
weather. Accompanied by Goodfellow, a frowsy, stump-tailed dog from
the hotel, I visited the Indian houses hereabout. Goodfellow came with
me, not as a protector, but because he wouldn't be driven back. He is
a reprobate cur, forever spoiling for a fight; a natural born feudist
who lives in a state of violent excitement. Terry says he is "no
bloomin' lap-dog," but a four-legged incarnation of the devil himself.
Sometime soon, this dog's day will be over, for he is surely going to
die of lead poisoning.

All the way to the Indians, with a stupid malignity, and in defiance of
the plainest laws of fence, Goodfellow gave chase to every cat and
rabbit and bit every cow. It is not open for me to say what I thought
of him, except that his conduct was solidly wrong. It was,
accordingly, of high gratification to the rancour I hid in my heart
when the Indians' huskies made short shrift of him. Like Humpty
Dumpty, it will be hard to put him t