I used to think so. I believe I was accustomed to all the precarious
Indian conveyances, and, as a boy, I enjoyed the dog-travaux ride as
much as any. The travaux consisted of a set of rawhide strips securely
lashed to the tent-poles, which were harnessed to the sides of the
animal as if he stood between shafts, while the free ends were allowed
to drag on the ground. Both ponies and large dogs were used as beasts
of burden, and they carried in this way the smaller children as well as
the baggage.

This mode of travelling for children was possible only in the summer,
and as the dogs were sometimes unreliable, the little ones were exposed
to a certain amount of danger. For instance, whenever a train of dogs
had been travelling for a long time, almost perishing with the heat and
their heavy loads, a glimpse of water would cause them to forget all
their responsibilities. Some of them, in spite of the screams of the
women, would swim with their burdens into the cooling stream, and I was
thus, on more than one occasion, made to partake of an unwilling bath.

I was a little over four years old at the time of the "Sioux massacre"
in Minnesota. In the general turmoil, we took flight into British
Columbia, and the journey is still vividly remembered by all our
family. A yoke of oxen and a lumber-wagon were taken from some white
farmer and brought home for our conveyance.

How delighted I was when I learned that we were to ride behind those
wise-looking animals and in that gorgeously painted wagon! It seemed
almost like a living creature to me, this new vehicle with four legs,
and the more so when we got out of axle-grease and the wheels went
along squealing like pigs!

The boys found a great deal of innocent fun in jumping from the high
wagon while the oxen were leisurely moving along. My elder brothers
soon became experts. At last, I mustered up courage enough to join them
in this sport. I was sure they stepped on the wheel, so I cautiously
placed my moccasined foot upon it. Alas, before I could realize what
had happened, I was under the wheels, and had it not been for the
neighbor immediately behind us, I might have been run over by the next
team as well.

This was my first experience with a civilized vehicle. I cried out all
possible reproaches on the white man's team and concluded that a
dog-travaux was good enough for me. I was really rejoiced that we were
moving away from the people who made the wagon that had almost