ic.

But how different was the fate of the worn-out Selkirk Colonists. The
memory of a wretched sea voyage, of a long and dreary winter at Nelson
Encampment, and of a fifty-five days' journey of constant hardship along
the fur traders' route were impressed upon their minds. The thought of
fierce rivers and the dangers of portage and cascade still haunted them,
and now everything on the banks of Red River was strange. On their
arrival the flowers were blooming, but they were prairie flowers, and
unknown to them. The small Colony houses which they were to occupy would
be uncomfortable. The very sun in the sky seemed alien to them, for the
Highland drizzle was seen no more. The days were bright, the weather
warm, the nights cool, and there was an occasional August thunderstorm,
or hailstorm which alarmed them. The traders, the Indians, the
half-breed trappers, and runners were all new to them. Their Gaelic
language, which they claimed as that of Eden, was of little value to
them except where an occasional company-servant chanced to be a
countryman of their own. They were without money, they were dependent
upon Lord Selkirk's agents for shelter and rations. The land which they
hoped to possess was there awaiting them, but they had no means for
purchasing implements, nor were the farming requisites to be found in
the country. Horses there were, but there were only two or three
individual cattle within five hundred miles of them.

If they had sung on their sorrowful leaving, "Lochaber no more," the
words were now turned by their depressed Highland natures into a wail,
and they sang in the words of their old Psalms of "Rouse's" version:

"By Babel's streams we sat and wept,
When Zion we thought on."

They thought of their crofts and clachans, where if the land was stingy,
the gift of the sea was at hand to supply abundant food.

But this was no time for sighs or regrets.

The Hudson's Bay traders from Brandon House were waiting for expected
goods, and Messrs. Hillier and Heney, who were the Hudson's Bay Company
officers for the East Winnipeg District, had arduous duties ahead of
them. But though the orders to prepare for the Colonists had been sent
on in good time, there was not a single bag of pemmican or any other
article of provision awaiting the hapless settlers. The few French
people who were freemen, lived in what is now the St. Boniface side of
the river, were only living from hand to mouth, and the Compa