In four days we arrived at the Shell River, a small tributary of the Saskatchewan; and here we had all to jump into the stream and assist in helping the heavily-laden carts down the steep bank, and up the opposite slope. The water was cold as ice, and we hardly enjoyed our compulsory bath, but the noonday sun shone warmly, and a rapid walk soon restored the circulation in our benumbed limbs. The next day brought us to a lovely little spot, a small prairie of perhaps 200 acres, surrounded by low wooded hills, and on one side a lake winding with many an inlet amongst the hills and into the plain, while here and there a tiny promontory, richly clothed with pines and aspens, stretched out into the water. The beauty of the place had struck the rude voyageurs, its only visitors, except the Indians, and they had named it La Belle Prairie. As we crossed it, we remarked to one another what a magnificent site for a house one of the promontories would be, and how happy many a poor farmer who tilled unkindly soil at home would feel in possession of the rich land which lay before us. The same day we struck the river Crochet, a stream of about the same size as Shell River, and assisted to help the carts across, as we had done at the latter. About half a mile beyond, we saw two small wooden houses. We encamped in an open space at a little distance, and then walked up to make the acquaintance of the occupants. One of the huts had been built by an enterprising free-trader, Mr. Pruden; the other, at its side, by the Company, in opposition. Mr. Pruden was at length induced to enter the Company’s service as Chief Trader at Carlton, and presented his dwelling to two families of Indians. The Company’s establishment was dismantled, and remained untenanted. A fishery was still worked occasionally at White Fish Lake, close by. In the house we found an old Indian engaged in mending a net, and his squaw squatted by the hearth indulging in a pipe. They shook hands with us very cordially, La Ronde introducing us as a great chief and great medicine man, who had travelled far for the pleasure of making their acquaintance. The old fellow rejoiced in the name of Kekekooarsis, or “The Child of the Hawk,” in allusion to the beak-like form of his nose. We smoked several pipes with him whilst answering the numerous questions he addressed to us through La Ronde, and were so delighted with his urbanity, that in a weak moment we promised to make him a present of a small quantity of rum. Alas! mistaken generosity, fruitful of anxiety and trouble! The old gentleman became all excitement, said we were the best fellows he had met for many a day, adding that if he might venture to offer a suggestion, it would be that we should fetch the fire-water immediately. We accordingly went back to the lodge, sent off to him a very small quantity well watered, taking the precaution to fill a small keg with a weak mixture, and hiding the cask in the cart.