United States or Uruguay ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
From leaving Fort MacMurray we saw daily the starving dog, and I fed them when I could. At Smith Landing the daily dog became a daily fifty. One big fellow annexed us. "I found them first," he seemed to say, and no other dog came about our camp without a fight.
The Athabaska below Fort MacMurray is a noble stream, one-third of a mile wide, deep, steady, unmarred; the banks are covered with unbroken virginal forests of tall white poplar, balsam poplar, spruce, and birch. The fire has done no damage here as yet, the axe has left no trace, there are no houses, no sign of man except occasional teepee poles.
On Monday I began to settle in, but even now I find it difficult to take my bearings, as we have been in a heavy mountain fog ever since I got here. There is a little English colony, the bank manager, Mr. MacMurray, and his wife a capable, energetic woman, and an excellent working partner Mr. McLean, a Scottish clerk, a Mr.
MacMurray gave a dance to his voyagers and the women; this is a treat which they expect on the arrival of any stranger at the post. We were presented by this gentleman with the valuable skin of a black fox which he had entrapped some days before our arrival; it was forwarded to England with other specimens.
True to their religion, the half-breeds seized their rifles, the bullets whistled harmlessly about the "Peeshoo" whereupon he turned and walked calmly up the slope, stopping to look at each fresh volley, but finally waved his stumpy tail and walked unharmed over the ridge. Distance fifty yards. On May 28 we reached Fort MacMurray.
About 11 o'clock I, who am acting as wardrobe-mender to some very untidy clothes and socks, get to work, and the young men go to the town and appear at lunch-time. We hear what the local news is, and what Mr. MacMurray has said and Mr. McLean thought, and sometimes one of the people from the Russian hospital comes in.
The next morning we arrived at the establishments which are situated on the western side of the lake near a small stream called the Beaver River. They were small log buildings hastily erected last October for the convenience of the Indians who hunt in the vicinity. Mr. MacMurray, a partner in the North-West Company, having sent to Isle a la Crosse an invitation to Mr.
Word Of The Day