From Georgetown on the Red to Norway House on the Nelson--Old Fort Garry--Governor MacTavish--York boats--Indian gamblers--Welcome by H. B. Co. people. I think it was the sixth day out from Georgetown that we again entered Canada. Late in the evening of the eighth day we rounded the point at the mouth of the Assiniboine, and landed at Fort Garry. It was raining hard, and mud was plentiful. I climbed the banks and saw the walls and bastions of the fort, and looked out northward on the plains and saw one house. Where that house stood, now stands the city of Winnipeg. Fortunately for us a brigade of York boats was then loading to descend the rivers and lakes, and cross the many portages to York Factory on Hudson's Bay. Father lost no time in securing a passage in one of these, which was to start the next morning. In the meantime, Governor MacTavish invited father and mother and sisters to quarters in his own home for the night. My work was to transfer our luggage to the York boat, and then stay and look after it, for it was evident that our new crew were pretty well drunk. Near dark we heard a strange noise up the Red, and one of the boatmen said, "Indians coming!" And sure enough a regular fleet of wild Red Lake Ojibways hove in sight, and, singing and paddling in time, came ashore right beside us. Painted and feathered, and strangely costumed, these were real specimens of North American Indians. As was customary, the Hudson's Bay Company served them out a "regale" of rum, and very soon the night was made hideous with the noise of their drunken bout. I had a big time keeping them out of our boat, but here my acquaintance with their language served me in good turn. [Illustration: I HAD A BIG TIME KEEPING THEM OUT OF OUR BOAT] Until near morning I kept my vigil in the bow of our boat, and then our steersman woke up, and was sufficiently sobered to relieve me, and I took his blanket and slept a short time. Early in the day we made our start for Norway House. This we trusted was our last transfer. Our craft was an agreeable change to the clumsy barge. This was more like a bateau built and used on our eastern lakes, but lighter and stronger, capable of standing a good sea, and making good time under sail. The boat was manned with eight men and a steersman. One of the eight was the bowman. With our eight big oars keeping stroke, we swept around the point and again took the Red for Lake Winnipeg and beyond. Our quarters in the open boat were small, and, for our party, crowded, but we hoped to reach our destination in a few days. We had but four hundred miles more to make to what was to be our new home.