One often hears about "horse sense," but here was a good large sample of dog sense. That this dog, with her own traces and those of four other dogs between her and the sleigh, should pass all these and go back to the sleigh to cut away and liberate herself, and thus save to us these harnesses, was amazing. I would have rejoiced over the dogs alone, but to receive these back with the harness was great good fortune. I hitched Maple and her pups beside my own train, and taking some meat from Joseph and Susa, lightened their loads and on we went at a much quicker step. On reaching home that evening I need not say there was general rejoicing over the recovery of our lost dogs. As the buffalo moved so did also the Indian camps, and gradually our meat trails went westward for the month of February. This trip it was fresh meat, and the next it would be a mixed load of pounded and dried meat cakes and bladders of grease and tongues, and as the distance was never more than a big day's run, we would put on tremendous loads, so that gradually our storehouse was being filled up. Through storm and cold, and sometimes very heavy roads, or no roads at all, Joseph, Susa and myself kept at the work of providing for our mission party. Those at home in the meantime were constantly busy holding meetings, doctoring the sick, taking out timber, whipsawing lumber, or hauling hay and wood. Indeed, there was no time to become lonely or to think of the onions and garlic of the former Egypt. Our party knew it was out in a larger wilderness, but, full of Christian resolution, each one felt as did Joshua and Caleb. The event of the winter was the arrival of the February packet from Fort Garry. A few letters from Eastern friends it might bring, with two or three newspapers several months old; but this was the one connecting link, and the dwellers in the Hudson's Bay posts and at mission stations in the North-West, though far apart, felt a common interest in this packet, for it not only brought news from the far East, but also from one another. For days before its expected arrival at the post or mission the packet was the chief item of conversation. Many an eye was turned to the direction whence it should come. Many a person the last thing at night would stand out in the cold and listen for the sound of bells which might indicate the approach of the eagerly looked-for mail. And when at last it came, how many were disappointed. The one lone chance, and still no news where so much had been expected.