Finding upon inquiry that, in consequence of the lowness of the water, it was very uncertain when the steamer would arrive, if she ever reached Georgetown at all, we decided to make the journey to Fort Garry in canoes. The distance is above five hundred miles by the river, which runs through a wild and unsettled country, inhabited only by wandering tribes of Sioux, Chippeways, and Assiniboines. After much bargaining, we managed to obtain two birch-bark canoes from some half-breeds. One of them was full of bullet holes, having been formerly the property of some Assiniboines, who were waylaid by a war party of Sioux whilst descending the river the previous summer, and mercilessly shot down from the bank, where their enemies lay in ambush. The other was battered and leaky, and both required a great deal of patching and caulking before they were rendered anything like water-tight. We endeavoured to engage a guide, half-breed or Indian, but none would go with us. The truth was that rumours were afloat of the intended outbreak of the Sioux, and these cowards were afraid. One man, indeed-- a tall, savage-looking Iroquois, just recovering from the effects of a week’s debauch on corn whisky--expressed his readiness to go with us, but his demands were so exorbitant, that we refused them at once. We offered him one-half what he had asked, and he went off to consult his squaw, promising to give us an answer next day. We did not take very large supplies of provisions with us, as we expected not to be more than eight or ten days on our voyage, and knew that we should meet with plenty of ducks along the river. We therefore contented ourselves with twenty pounds of flour, and the same of pemmican, with about half as much salt pork, some grease, tinder, and matches, a small quantity of tea, salt, and tobacco, and plenty of ammunition. A tin kettle and frying-pan, some blankets and a waterproof sheet, a small axe, and a gun and hunting-knife apiece, made up the rest of our equipment.