The daily morning journal and courier., 1896-02-04

She chops the firewood, dries the fish
 and meat, snares rabbits, and carries
 her catch into the post on her back:
 scrapes and tans the moose and caribou
 hides, from the latter of which she
 makes "bablche" by cutting it into strings an eighth of an inch wide; laces
 the snow-shoes. makes and embroiders
 With beads the mittens, moccasins and leggings; yields the Hons share of the | scanty larder to her husband when he 1 Is at home luXuriating in smoke and sleep, and, when he is away, gives her children her tiny pret (allowance) Of | fish and goes hungry without a mur- mur.
 This is the woman of the post. She of
 the woods, the full-blooded squaw, and there are few Indians that ever take up
 a permanent abode in the settlement,
 does all this and more. In addition to
 chopping the firewood, she seeks and
 hauls it; not only dries, but catches the fish; goes after and quarters and brings in the game her master has killed; breaks camp, and pitches it again where the husband, who has gone on
 ahead with no load but his gun and no | thought except for the hunt, and whose
 trail she has followed, indicates by sticking up brush in the snow. When there lis plenty she makes her meal on
 that which her lord leaves and when
 there is little she starves, along with
 her children and the dogs.
 The Indian is the sybarite of the
 Northland, and the only genuine social ist on earth. He holds all the posses
 sions of his country equally with his tribe, feasts and lasts and sorrows and rejoices in common, and roams where
 his legs carry and there is game for his gun. When there is abundance he
 smokes his. pipe in happy incidence,
 and his wife does the work; when there is no meat for the kettle he shoulders his gun and goes out into the woods, leaving care and hunger at home With the squaw. But he by no means invari- ably escapes hunger. It is ever a feast
 or famine with him, and it might all
 ways be a feast were he not so improv- ident and lazy Clothing and food are
 at his very door. In the rivers and lakes there is fish in great quantity and variety; along their banks, fisher, otter,
 mink, beaver and musk-rat; and in the forests, moose, caribou, bear, lynx, fox, wolf, wolverene, marten, ermine
 and rabbits-to say nothing of the ear ly spring and autumn migrations of ducks and geese, the packs of ptarmi-
 gan, which in their changing p1umage of brown and white are to be seen sum-
 mer and winter, and the several other species of the grouse family that may be found the greater part of the year. There is no occasion for an Indian to
 starve in this country, if he keeps out of the Barren Grounds; but hunting de- mandes skill, of which he has less than any other red man I ever knew, and @ never-failing cache presupposes fore sight, of which he has none-so that, in truth, he lasts more often than he feasts.
 The dogs share equally the good-luck or misfortune of their masters. The h. dian is more regardful of his dogs than of his women, for dogs are less numer- ous than squaws, and necessary to his support. The driver lashes them mer- cilessly with his whip and beats them brutally with clubs, but he never fails to include their rations in his sledge- load, nor to divide his last fish for their benefit. It is not goodness of heart that stirs his consideration, but fear for his own safety and the loss of an indis- pensable draught animal. Without his dogs he would be compelled to pack on his back what he now packs in the
 sledge, to drag his game out of the
 woods, and carry his furs to the post,
 while the loss nf dogs en route might
 mean for him delay, starvation-possi-
 bly, death.
 One would suppose that in a country literally dependent on dogs for winter
 transportation, quantity and at least some degree of quality would be kept up. And yet the facts are directly the reverse. Not only is quality wanting, but the quantity is limited The Hud- son Bay company, strangely enough, seems to have made no effort to im- prove or even establish a breed, and at their more important posts rerely main tain more than one train, and never more than two. Throughout the length of my trip saw just seven trains of dogs that could be called first class
 Spencer's at McMurray; two belonging to the Hudson Bay company at Chipe- wyan; McKinley's, the Hudson Bay company officer at Fort Smith; Gau- det's, the company's officer at Resolu- ton; the Roman Catholic missions train at the same post; and that of Be-
 niah, the Indian leader with whom I went into the Barren Grounds. Spen-
 cer and Mckinley probably have the two best trains in the country, which they have bred from separate bitches that had some Newfoundland blood in them, and were the only dogs I saw that would come to harness on call. Beyond the "foregoer," upon whom the meanings of ma-a-r-r-che (starD, e-u-u (righD, ia QefD, and whoa are impressed by a club, and the steer-dog as the one at, say, the wheel, to make it comprehensible, is called-there is no training. The foregoer follows the trail and sets the pace. The steer-dog keeps | the sledge upon slanting track, and
 guides it through trees and rocks. He
 must be strong, and is the most impor- tant of the four in rough country. As for competent drivers, they are even scarcer than good dogs, but the few ara exceedingly skilful; and of these Spen- l cer, Mckinley, Gaudet. Francois and
 his brother William at Chipewyan, Mi chael, the interpreter at Resolution, and | the Catholic "brother," whose name I | never knew, at Resolution, are easily tha 1heSt FT1,n 1;ffo1-cpoa hatu,aap