I remained for nearly a month with my old friend Mr
Russ, who in a former part of this veracious book is described as being
a very ardent and scientific fisher, extremely partial to strong rods
and lines, and entertaining a powerful antipathy to slender rods and
flies!

Little change had taken place in the appearance of the fort. The
clerks' house was still as full, and as noisy, as when Polly told
frightful stories to the greenhorns on the point of setting out for the
wild countries of Mackenzie River and New Caledonia. The Indians of the
village at Rossville plodded on in their usual peaceful way, under the
guidance of their former pastor; and the ladies of the establishment
were as blooming as ever.

One fine morning, just as Mr Russ and I were sauntering down to the
river with our rods, a north canoe, full of men, swept round the point
above the fort, and grounded near the wharf. Our rods were soon cast
aside, and we were speedily congratulating Mr and Mrs Bain on their
safe arrival. These were to be my companions on the impending voyage to
Canada, and the canoe in which they had arrived was to be our
conveyance.

Mr Bain was a good-natured, light-hearted Highlander, and his lady a
pretty lass of twenty-three.

On the following morning all was ready; and soon after breakfast we were
escorted down to the wharf by all the people in the fort, who crowded to
the rocks to witness our departure.

Our men, eight in number, stood leaning on their paddles near the wharf;
and, truly, a fine athletic set of fellows they were. The
beautifully-shaped canoe floated lightly on the river, notwithstanding
her heavy cargo, and the water rippled gently against her sides as it
swept slowly past. This frail bark, on which our safety and progression
depended, was made of birch bark sewed together, lined in the inside
with thin laths of wood, and pitched on the seams with gum. It was
about thirty-six feet long, and five broad in the middle, from whence it
tapered either way to a sharp edge. It was calculated to carry from
twenty to twenty-five hundredweight, with eight or nine men, besides
three passengers, and provisions for nearly a month. And yet, so light
was it, that two men could carry it a quarter of a mile without resting.
Such was the machine in which, on the 20th August 1845, we embarked;
and, after bidding our friends at Norway House adieu, departed for
Canada, a distance of nearly two thousand three hundred mil