onger
curious about them. But there remained a vast country which they longed
eagerly to explore. They longed to look upon its shining lakes and
crystal rivers; upon its snow-clad hills and ice-bound streams; upon its
huge mammalia--its moose and its musk-oxen, its wapiti and its monster
bears. This was the very country to which they were now invited by
their kinsman, and cheerfully did they accept his invitation. Already
had they made one-half the journey, though by far the easier half. They
had travelled up the Mississippi, by steamboat as far as the mouth of
the Saint Peter's. There they had commenced their canoe voyage--in
other words became "voyageurs"--for such is the name given to those who
travel by canoes through these wild territories. Their favourite horses
and the mule "Jeannette" had been left behind. This was a necessity, as
these creatures, however useful upon the dry prairies of the South,
where there are few or no lakes, and where rivers only occur at long
intervals, would be of little service to the traveller in the Northern
regions. Here the route is crossed and intercepted by numerous rivers;
and lakes of all sizes, with tracts of inundated marsh, succeed one
another continually. Such, in fact, are the highways of the country,
and the canoe the travelling carriage; so that a journey from one point
of the Hudson's Bay territory to another is often a canoe voyage of
thousands of miles--equal to a "trip" across the Atlantic!

Following the usual custom, therefore, our Boy Hunters had become
voyageurs--"_Young Voyageurs_." They had navigated the Saint Peter's in
safety, almost to its head-waters. These interlock with the sources of
the Red River. By a "portage" of a few miles they had crossed to the
latter stream; and, having launched their canoe upon its waters, were
now floating downward and northward with its current. But they had yet
a long journey before them--nearly two thousand miles! Many a river to
be "run," many a rapid to be "shot," many a lake to be crossed, and many
a "portage" to be passed, ere they could reach the end of that great
_voyage_.

Come, boy reader, shall we accompany them? Yes. The strange scenes and
wild adventures through which we must pass, may lighten the toils, and
perhaps repay us for the perils, of the journey. Think not of the
toils. Roses grow only upon thorns. From toil we learn to enjoy
leisure. Regard not the perils. "From the nettle danger we