As We Rounded A Point One Day A Lynx Appeared Statuesque On A Stranded
Cake Of Ice, A Hundred Yards Off, And Gazed At The Approaching
Boats.
True to their religion, the half-breeds seized their rifles,
the bullets whistled harmlessly about the "Peeshoo" - whereupon he
turned and walked calmly up the slope, stopping to look at each
fresh volley, but finally waved his stumpy tail and walked unharmed
over the ridge.
Distance fifty yards.
On May 28 we reached Fort MacMurray.
Here I saw several interesting persons: Miss Christine Gordon, the
postmaster; Joe Bird, a half-breed with all the advanced ideas of
a progressive white man; and an American ex-patriot, G - - - , a
tall, raw-boned Yank from Illinois. He was a typical American of
the kind, that knows little of America and nothing of Europe; but
shrewd and successful in spite of these limitations. In appearance
he was not unlike Abraham Lincoln. He was a rabid American, and
why he stayed here was a question.
He had had no detailed tidings from home for years, and I never saw
a man more keen for the news. On the banks of the river we sat for
an hour while he plied me with questions, which I answered so far
as I could. He hung on my lips; he interrupted only when there seemed
a halt in the stream; he revelled in, all the details of wrecks
by rail and sea. Roosevelt and the trusts - insurance scandals - the
South the burnings in the West - massacres - murders - horrors - risings - these
were his special gloats, and yet he kept me going with "Yes - yes - and
then?" or "Yes, by golly - that's the way we're a-doing it.
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