C Ihe Ladies c cu. V'VVAN - History and Classics, Department of

DcrysAshore 35to several, including the chief, whose name was Squirrel. Mr Brabant couldremember him in full war-paint and feathers, but now he wore a yachting capand a slouching blue serge suit and had long gray hair about his shoulders. Thepatient expression in his glazed eyes seemed to reflect the light of ancient fires.A bearded French priest preached in French and then in Chipewyan on thetheme of "Jesus vous aime" in a rapid voice. Thin female voices chanted. Paper liliesand tinsel adorned the wooden church. None of the Indians appeared to beinspired or even interested. I thought of the worshippers at a mosque in theBalkans and the faces of rough Moslems for whom the heavens had opened,giving them one glimpse into a world of bliss.Every time that we watched the pelicans we longed to visit their breedingground,an island near the rapids, and one morning Mr Brabant arranged for agas boat to take us with a party upriver. We steamed across the river and anchored,then got into a canoe that danced like a cockle-shell and pulled close to an eddybelow the rapids, grounding on rocks now and then until we landed on a flatpink granite islet. There was not a pelican in sight. We stood on that islet wornsmooth by many floods and we looked upon that wilderness of tormented waterand the debris of the forest caught and held on fangs of rock. It was a scene ofutter desolation. The turbid and troubled water seemed to be flowing in alldirections. There was one straight sweep of the current smooth as any pavement;here was a cauldron of brown water like a whirlpool, seething with tossed,impetuous foam; there were waves with crests flung backward against the current,and rocky islets in mid-river, each one lonely and helpless as regret. We sawneither human being nor human habitation; the only signs of mankind weresome wooden frames on shore erected by Indians for drying fish and, beside ourgranite island, a line of floats.On the last evening at Fort Smith Mr Brabant and the judge gave a farewelldinner, dispensing much-appreciated whisky and liqueurs. There were about 20of us. There was much chaff about the HB Company, now more than 250 yearsold. At one time it had practically ruled the vast country, now it is sometimesnamed, in a friendly way, "Half-breed-Curse" or "Here-before-Christ." Mterdinner we walked over to the wireless operator's house where some danced togramophone music while others sat smoking and exchanging yarns. Suddenly thetelephone bell rang."All aboard," said our hosts, and we trooped back to the steamer.