All through April and May we had quite a multitude around the Mission, feasting or fasting with us, as circumstances dictated. Sometimes the moving ice on the lake kept us for days at a time from visiting our nets, and then there was hunger in the camp. But again the ice moved out, and we were provided with food sufficient in quantity if not all we would like in quality. About the end of May, after putting our garden in shape, with a few families we started for the big plains and the summer ranges of the buffalo. During the past winter the buffalo kept far out and great destitution consequently ensued. Spring came and found the forts and Mission stations without the usual stock of pemmican and dried meat. There was no use of our looking for help from these sources; we must act for ourselves. I had talked the plain trip up among our people, but only a few would attempt it with us. Nevertheless, these few were picked men. There was old Paul and Samson, and Mark and his father and brother, and a Mountain Stony, Enoch Crawler by name, and Francis and myself. We counted ten men in all and two boys, besides the women and children. The most of our party struck straight for the first edge of the thick woods, while Francis and others went around to bring our carts from where we had left them the previous autumn. We left the lake on Monday morning. Wednesday evening we were camped together a united party. Saturday afternoon we went into camp early, in order to give everyone a chance to do some hunting for Sunday. Our tents were pitched in a beautiful plain, by the shore of a stream called Pipe Stone. Thus far no large game had been killed. Rabbits and ducks and the few dried fish we had started with formed our food. Saturday evening I shot a brace of rabbits, and carrying them back to camp was surprised to find that nearly all the women had disappeared. Enquiring the reason, I was told that old Paul had killed a moose. Now, old Paul was our invalid. He could only by crawling or with crutches move in any way, and I was surprised that he of all our party should kill the moose. But presently my wife and the other women rode into camp bringing with them the most of old Paul's kill. The old man had crawled to the edge of a small lake to try and shoot some ducks, and while slowly approaching this had detected the splash of a large animal coming into the lake from the other side. He saw it was a moose, and taking in the lay of the country, he concluded that it would come out about where he was. Hastily seizing his gun-worm and fixing this to the ramrod he pulled out the charge of shot and put a ball in its place. Sure enough the old hunter's instinct had told him right, for presently the huge animal came out of the lake and through the fringing of the timber right up to where he lay. Old Paul's shot was straight and true, and our camp rejoiced in the prospect of moose steaks as a change of diet. As this came on