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Updated: May 28, 2025
Rainbow Pete had come to Mushrat Portage, playing his flute, at a time when preparations were being made to blast a road-bed through the wilderness for the railroad.
I had to get home about fifty miles to cover. the way was beset with tangled forests, swollen streams, melting snows not a blaze to mark the way. I had lived on mushrat for forty days and the first day out I shot a doe, and added about ten pounds to my load, this meat was quite an improvement on rat. the evening of the third day I camped on Hopkins creek under an old hemlock tree.
He sang, plucking this instrument, with a jolly face. Heh! Heh! She leaned over the bar, looking at him, and dreaming of the prairies. Then they told him that this woman was the wife of Rainbow Pete. "Aha," he said, "but, my friends, a rainbow is not for very long. It is beautiful, but look, it vanishes in air." Was he afraid, without saying so? That I can not tell you. Still he stayed on Mushrat.
He was first to be waited on at Scarecrow Charlie's. Yes, he was first. This was a mystery of a man to that dark woman from Regina. Now in these days before blasting began, they were fond of talking marriage on Mushrat, thinking of this woman from Regina, who was at the disposal of no man there. They were full of doubts and wonderments, when they would be idling together in Scarecrow Charlie's.
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