September 6th. "To-night there was the finest exhibition of the aurora borealis that any of us have ever seen. To attempt a description is the height of vanity. The Rev. Mr. Black and Mr. Bond gazed very long upon it, as a most remarkable manifestation in the heavens, before they could tear themselves away and return to rest. Mr. Black, who had seen the Northern sky in Scotland and Canada, says it was much the finest exhibition he has ever seen. Bottineau declared that he had never seen its equal this side of Hudson Bay."
September 7th. "It is three weeks to-day since we left St. Paul."
September 8th. "A furious thunderstorm overtook us. It came down a deluge, a perfect torrent of falling waters, though the heaviest of the storm had passed around us to the south."
September 11th. "Arrived at Pembina. The houses were full of halfbreeds, who saluted us with the discharge of guns, etc. Two of the staff rode on ahead, and were treated to milk and potatoes—a treat equal to that of the milk and honey received by the Israelites of old. Near the village, on the muddy banks of Red River, stood an admiring group of several hundred whites, halfbreeds, and Indians of all sizes, with any quantity of dogs, very large and wolfish. Amid this babel of cries, yelps, barks, and shouts, from the said big dogs and little papoose Indians, we came to a halt and reconnoitred, standing almost glued fast in the sticky, tenacious mud caused by the rains and overflow of the Red and Pembina Rivers for three years past. The journey to Pembina has been accomplished, including the two rest days, in twenty-five days in all."
September 14th. "Cloudy, cold, raw, and windy, quite unpleasant and unseasonable. An overcoat is necessary out of doors this morning, and fires in the house for comfort. To-day we had preaching by the Rev. John Black, in the dining-room of the Governor's house; a novelty most certainly in this far distant region. The congregation consisted of about a dozen whites and three halfbreeds. The Rev. Charles Tanner, a halfbreed missionary among the Indians of Red Lake, met us here, and in the afternoon preached to the assembled Chippewas in their own tongue. He moved to this place a week ago, and intends farming, teaching school, etc., for a livelihood after the conclusion of the treaty. His wife is a halfbreed, and they reside at present in a lodge in the yard at this place."
DOWN THE RED RIVER.
After Sunday was past for two days the weather was bad, but on Wednesday, 17th, the day was fine, and the two companions of the voyage, Messrs. Black and Bond, determined to leave the party behind and proceed down the Red River to the Selkirk settlement, a distance by land of sixty miles, but not less than three times as far by the winding river. Astir by daylight, the travellers were soon ready, and in a birch bark canoe, fifteen feet long and three wide, managed by two French halfbreeds or Bois-brulés (burnt sticks, referring to their dusky faces), their bedding, baggage, and provisions, and finally the two passengers were stowed away for the journey. The voyage was a tedious one, but not without interest. The canoe was somewhat leaky, and at times had to be hauled up on the bank, overturned, emptied, and calked with white spruce gum. Large flocks of ducks and geese were swimming almost within paddle length from the canoe. Everywhere were to be seen traces of the high water which had prevailed for several years, and marks upon the trees thirty feet above the water were seen, where in spring the freshets had reached.
A NIGHT SCENE.
The party halted for the night some forty miles below Pembina. The description given by Mr. Black's travelling companion of the camp on the river bank is graphic: "The night is very clear and fine, the face of heaven is smiling amid myriads of twinkling stars; the northern horizon is lit up with the rays of dancing beams of an aurora, while the woods and silent-flowing river are illuminated by our camp fire; our voyageurs are fast asleep upon the ground before us, and not a sound is heard save that of the leaping, crackling flames and the low tone of our own voices as we chat merrily. And now, as my companion reads a chapter in his French pocket Bible, and I pencil down these sketches of fact and fancy by the light of the burning fagots—but hark! we have company, it seems, and are not so lonely as I thought; that was the hoot-owl's cry, and sounds like the wailing of a fiend in misery; that was the cry, long drawn out and dismal, of a distant wolf; and near, the pack like hungry curs are heard yelping and barking furiously. In the bushes beside the camp I see two gleaming, fiery eyeballs. "Take that, to light you to better quarters!" I hurl a blazing firebrand toward the beast, who, with a dismal cry, leaves us to repose and quiet sleep."