ving to keep their balance. The result was, that we
all resolved ourselves into a conglomerate of toboggans and men, which
went shooting and struggling over the smooth lake for fifty yards or
upwards at the rate of twelve miles an hour, if not more. This, of
course, afforded unutterable delight to the rest of our men, and to
Waboose and her mother; as well as to several Indians, who had just
arrived. Among these last were Attick and Maqua with his son Mozwa.

It was rough but health-giving, as well as enjoyable, work, and sent us
to our respective beds that night in a condition of readiness to fall
promptly into a state of absolute oblivion.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

DESCRIBES A TREMENDOUS VISITATION--A FEAST--A SURPRISE--AND AN ATTEMPT
AT MURDER.

I must beg the reader now to leap with me into the middle of winter.

It is New Year's Day. That festive season of the year is not less
marked and honoured in the Great Nor'-west than it is in civilised
lands, though there are comparatively few to honour it, and their
resources are somewhat meagre. These facts do not however, diminish the
hearty zeal of the few--perchance they tend rather to increase it.

Be that as it may, I now convey the reader to an ice-bound forest. Deep
snow has buried the frozen ground. Masses of snow weigh down the
branches of the leafless trees; and evergreens, which are not leafless,
are literally overwhelmed, almost obliterated, by the universal
covering. But the scene is by no means dismal. A blue sky overhead and
a bright sun and calm frosty air render it pre-eminently cheerful. The
ground is undulating, and among these undulations you may see two men
and a couple of sledges slowly making their way along.

The sledge in rear is the ordinary provision-sled used by winter
travellers in that land; it is hauled by an Indian. The one in front is
styled a cariole. It resembles a slipper-bath in form, is covered with
yellow parchment, gaily painted, and drawn by four fine wolf-like dogs.
The rider in that cariole is so whelmed in furs as to be absolutely
invisible. The man who beats the track has a straight, stalwart frame,
and from what of his countenance is left exposed by his fur cap and
whiskers, one may judge that he is a white man.

Slowly and silently they plod along through the deep snow--the
sleigh-bells on the dog's harness tinkling pleasantly. Ere long they
come out upon a lake, where, the snow being beaten pretty hard, t