the pack strap are brought up and over, to meet the opposite ends of the narrow straps, which, as has been explained, are either sewed to, or buckled onto the wide head strap. Drawing these ends firmly together puckers the outer edge of the blanket on either side, and draws the blanket completely over the contents piled in the center, and makes, ordinarily, nearly a round bundle. This load, or pack, the man then throws over his shoulder, onto his back, and brings the wide strap across his forehead, or across his breast, or across the top of his head, when he is ready to begin his journey. Before he has traveled long with this load, which weighs ordinarily from fifty to one hundred pounds, according to the ability of the man to bear the burden, he will be found shifting that wide strap to any one of the three positions named, and will have used all of those positions many times before the party as a whole, stops for a moment's rest. I had taken with me, on going north on this long campaign, an extra fine red leather pack strap that I had had made to order at a Minneapolis harness shop. I had kept it coiled up, and carefully stored in my belongings, waiting for an emergency when the more common straps would no longer be of service. A number of times the Indians had seen this strap and had admired it, and, as it later proved, not always without envy. One day the strap was missing, and I could find it, neither by searching, nor by open inquiry of my fellow white men, nor of the Indians, whom I occasionally met. On one occasion, while portaging my canoe to another lake, I found several families of Indians camping at the end of the portage. Among them was the hunter who has been previously mentioned. While stopping a moment for a friendly talk with the Indians, I saw protruding from under the coat of the hunter, nearly two feet of one end of my missing pack strap. I knew it so well that I was sure that it was no other pack strap. Nevertheless, I deliberated slowly what action I should take to recover the strap, not wishing by any possibility to make a mistake. Having surely concluded that the strap was mine, and that the hunter had not come into possession of it honestly--he having previously denied, when questioned, that he knew anything of the whereabouts of the strap--I decided upon a course of action. Going up quietly behind the hunter, and twisting the end of the protruding strap twice around my wrist, and grasping it firmly in my hand, I started with all my might to run with the strap. The effect was to make a temporary top of my friend, the hunter, who whirled about until the other end of the pack strap was released from his body. It was too good a joke, even for the Indians to remain unmoved, and the majority of them broke into merriment. The hunter at first was disposed to take it seriously but soon looked sheepish and ashamed, and tried to smile with the rest of his tribe, as well as with myself.