my face covered with a blanket as I lay in the
cariole the remaining part of the day.

[1] So called from the junction of the Assiniboine River with the
Red River.

On the 19th we were on the march as early as half past four, and had a
sharp piercing wind in our faces, which drifted the snow, and made the
track very bad for the dogs. This greatly impeded our progress; and our
provisions being short, I shot some ptarmigans, which were frequently
seen on our route. We perceived some traces of the buffaloe, and the
wolf was frequently seen following our track, or crossing in the line
we were travelling. Jan. 20. We started at sunrise, with a very cold
head wind; and my favourite English watch dog, Neptune, left the
encampment, to follow us, with great reluctance. I was apprehensive
that he might turn back, on account of the severity of the morning; and
being obliged to put my head under the blanket in the cariole, I
requested the driver to encourage him along. We had not pursued our
journey however more than an hour, before I was grieved to find that
the piercing keenness of the wind had forced him to return; and the
poor animal was probably soon after devoured by the wolves.

We arrived at Brandon House, the Company's provision post, about three
o'clock; and the next day, being Sunday, the servants were all
assembled for divine worship at eleven o'clock: and we met again in the
evening at six, when I married the officer of the post, and baptized
his two children. On the following morning, I saw an Indian corpse
staged, or put upon a few cross sticks, about ten feet from the ground,
at a short distance from the fort. The property of the dead, which may
consist of a kettle, axe, and a few additional articles, is generally
put into the case, or wrapped in the buffaloe skin with the body, under
the idea that the deceased will want them, or that the spirit of these
articles will accompany the departed spirit in travelling to another
world. And whenever they visit the stage or burying-place, which they
frequently do for years afterwards, they will encircle it, smoke their
pipes, weep bitterly, and, in their sorrow, cut themselves with knives,
or pierce themselves with the points of sharp instruments. I could not
but reflect that theirs is a sorrow without hope: all is _gross
darkness_ with them as to futurity; and they wander through life
without the consolatory and cheering influence of that gospel which has
bro