Hardisty accompanied me back to Pigeon Lake on condition that I would go on with him to the Mountain Fort. "For," said he, "you should visit your sisters; our fort is part of your parish. You can preach to us--we need it--and you may meet some Indians in on a trade. Besides we can spare you a little provision." I here confess that while all the other reasons were true, the last one at that time was convincing and unanswerable. I took Francis along, and we fought our way through deep snow and extreme cold to the Mountain House, a distance from Pigeon Lake of one hundred and twenty miles, reaching there after dark the third day. For both Francis and myself, after the meagre piscatorial diet of some months, it was hard work. Heavy exertion such as this requires strong food. But while at the fort, where we spent part of three days, we fared sumptuously on good dried meat, which had been brought in from the plains by the Blackfeet. We had a delightful visit with my sisters and the people of the fort. Some Stonies came in to trade while we were there, and among these was my old friend Jonas, whom I was well pleased to see again. We held several services, and would gladly have stayed longer were it not that our families were in a state of semi-starvation at the distant lake. We had presented to us 125 pounds of dried meat, and with this carefully tied on our sleds we said good-bye and turned our faces homeward. Though the road was heavy, by travelling most of the night we were back at the Mission early the third day, where we found all well and exceedingly glad to see us. Not a single Indian put in an appearance. These were having all they could do to keep soul and body together. It was a hard winter all over the Saskatchewan country. We got up a lot of firewood and cut it into proper lengths, spending several days at this work. Meantime, we tried to fatten our dogs on fish, but even they would not thrive on these. Then we started for Victoria, hoping that by this time a change for the better in the provision line would have taken place. At Edmonton we found the people of the fort on limited rations. Pushing on we made a big day without any trail, from above Sturgeon River to Victoria, over sixty miles, and when comfortably seated in the Mission mother said, "I am sorry, John, but all I can give you for supper to-night is potatoes and milk." Both Francis and I vehemently asserted that this would be a glorious change for us, and so it was.