I
PRAIRIE TRAVEL

In the year 1847 John Palliser, an Irishman, sailed from Liverpool by the good ship “Cambria” for an extended trip in America to make acquaintance with “our Trans-Atlantic brethren, and to extend my visit to the regions still inhabited by America’s aboriginal people—now, indeed, driven far westward of their rightful territories and pressed backward into that ocean of prairies extending to the foot of the great Rocky Mountains.”

Palliser was a young man of good family, the son of Colonel Wray Palliser, of Comragh, County Waterford. Like so many of his race, he was energetic, quick-witted, forceful, and possessed a great fund of humor. He seems to have been first of all a hunter, and like all successful hunters to have been a keen and close observer. Some time after his return to England he wrote a book giving his experiences of adventure in the Far West. It is one of the best books of hunting adventure ever written—terse, always to the point, modest, giving facts and conclusions, and very little about his own views of life. The book has long been out of print and is now not easily obtained, but it is really a model in the picture that it paints of old-time conditions and in the self-effacement of the author.

Palliser has long been forgotten. Almost equally forgotten are two of his shipmates, whose names at one time were familiar enough throughout the civilized world. These were “General Tom Thumb” and P.T. Barnum, who was bringing Tom Thumb back to the United States after a season of exhibition in Europe.

The “Cambria” touched for coal at Halifax and then came on to Boston and New York, where the traveller stopped at the Astor House, which, he says, is “far larger than any hotel I ever beheld in the old world.” From New York he went down to Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cumberland, and Wheeling, and from there down the Ohio River to the Mississippi and to St. Louis and New Orleans. His whole journey, though described briefly, is full of effective touches, and his comments and criticisms are keen but kindly. To a description of New Orleans he gives some space, and speaks with cordial warmth of the friendliness and hospitality of the Creole inhabitants.

From New Orleans he went up the Mississippi and Arkansas (spelled phonetically Arkansor) Rivers, and spent some time hunting small game, deer, bear, and, by good fortune, killed a fine panther. A more or less amusing tale, which Palliser quotes from an experience of his brother a year before, is worth repeating. “One day, when comfortably seated with Jackson and his family, in the neighbourhood of Lake Jefferson, a little nigger come running in, shouting, ‘Oh, massa! terrible big alligator; him run at me,’ When we got him to speak a little more coherently, it appeared that he had been bathing in the lake, and that an alligator had suddenly rushed at him, and when the boy, who luckily was not in deep water, had escaped by running to land, the brute had actually pursued him for some distance along the shore. We instantly loaded our rifles and started off in quest of the monster, accompanied by the boy, who came as guide. After carefully exploring the bank and reeds, though unsuccessfully, we concealed ourselves, in hopes of seeing him rise to the top of the water when he thought the coast was clear; but as we waited a long time without any result, we proposed what certainly was a most nefarious project; namely, to make the boy strip off his clothes and start him into the water again as a bait for the alligator. It was some time before we could get the boy to come round to our view of the matter: his objections to our plan were very strong, and his master’s threats failed completely, as indeed they generally did; for he was the kindest-hearted man in the world to his negroes. At last I coaxed him with a bright new dollar. This inducement prevailed over his fears, and the poor boy began to undress, his eyes all the while reverting alternately from the water to the dollar, and from the dollar to the water. We told him we did not want him to go in so deep as to be obliged to swim. ‘By golly, then, me go for dollare’; and in he walked, but had hardly reached water higher than his knees, when crash went the reeds, and the little fellow cut in towards our place of concealment at an astonishing pace, pursued by the alligator. The savage beast, as before, came right out on the bank, where we nailed him with two capital shots through the head, that effectually checked his career. He struggled violently, but uselessly, to regain his congenial element, and, after two or three furious lashes of his ponderous tail, sullenly expired. The triumph of the boy was complete.”

Palliser next went to Louisville, Ky., and after a pause in that State to inspect the Mammoth Cave, returned to Louisville, where he took the boat for St. Louis to make preparations for his Rocky Mountain trip. He locates in St. Louis that excellent story which has been so often told in the last sixty years about the two great talkers who were matched on a bet to see which should outtalk the other.

“Old Mr. Cohen was universally considered a great talker, so much so, that he even admitted it himself; but this evening a formidable rival appeared against him in the person of a strange character from Kentucky, who fairly met him on his own ground, and after supper evinced such unceasing powers of conversation, that old Mr. Cohen was unable to get in a word, and was fain to claim a hearing. ‘Let me speak, let me speak,’ he gasped several times but with no avail; till, at last, the fool’s argument was resorted to, and a bet made which should talk the longest. An umpire was chosen to determine which of the two loquacious combatants should be the winner; but, as might naturally be supposed, none of us had the patience to sit out the contest, so we went off to bed, leaving a plentiful supply of brandy, sugar, and iced water. Next morning, at a quarter past five, victory was declared for Missouri, the umpire returning at that hour and finding the Kentucky man fast asleep in his arm chair, and old Mr. Cohen sitting up close beside him and whispering in his ear.”

Palliser soon started for Independence, Mo., the great outfitting point for the fur trade in those days, when the plains and mountains were free. At Independence he met Mr. Kipp—James Kipp—one of the best-known traders of early days and the builder of some of the first trading posts far up the river. For twenty years before this, it had been James Kipp’s practice to go down the river in the summer with the fur company’s flotilla of mackinaw boats, and in the autumn to ride north again to the mouth of Yellowstone River, a distance of something like fifteen hundred miles. James Kipp is the bourgeois mentioned by Catlin as his host among the Mandans when, in 1834, he was painting on the upper river.

The party that set out from Independence on the 2d of September numbered seventeen or eighteen, of whom the greater number were French Creoles and Canadians to whom Palliser pays the wholly deserved compliment that they were “docile, patient, enduring fellows with constitutions like iron, well practiced in journeys of this kind and character.” Their beds and supplies were carried on pack-animals, and they travelled for some days through a country very thinly settled and occupied in part by the Mormons. “The last spot where we saw white faces was the Council Bluffs, the trading post and the residence of a Government Agent, where we remained a day supplying ourselves with coffee, sugar, and biscuit, salt pork, and beans, as we did not expect for some time yet to reach a good hunting country.”

The camps made after they had passed out of the settled region, where they lived at farm-houses, showed a method of life wholly new to Palliser, and one which to many Americans is as unknown to-day as it was to him. “A little before sunset, we unsaddled and unpacked our horses, placing the packs and saddle of each rider in a separate pile, at equal distances, so as to form a circular enclosure about ten paces in diameter; and after watering and ‘hobling’ the horses, i.e. attaching the fore and hind legs on one side together by means of an iron chain, with a leathern strap around the fetlock, to prevent their straying, we turned them loose to graze; not till then considering ourselves at liberty to attend to our own comforts. Our first business was, then, to cut and gather wood, and to light a fire in the centre of the circle, fetching some water in the kettles, and putting the meat on to cook, and making our beds of saddle-cloths, blankets, and buffalo robes: this done, we roasted our coffee berries, and having wrapped them in a piece of deer or buffalo skin, and pounded them in the stump of a tree with the back of a hatchet, put them in our coffee pot and boiled them; and the meat being cooked by the time this process was over, and the coffee made, we fell to with great appetite. After supper, we lighted our pipes, and then each turned in when he felt inclined, and, with his feet to the fire, slept as only travellers in the prairie can sleep. Before day we were up again, unhobled and watered our horses, loaded the packs, and were all in the saddle by sunrise.” The morning halt for breakfast was made about eleven o’clock, the horses were allowed to graze, and at one the train started again, to travel until dark.

The country through which they were passing had been thoroughly hunted by Indians, and the camp was out of meat, and had no food except beans. However, the fall migration of the wild fowl was on; at least the lakes and streams were occupied by plenty of ducks. Palliser set out with two of the hunters to try to kill some of these, but found that neither of the men could shoot on the wing. “It was amusing to see how astounded they were at my knocking over a fine mallard, that came wheeling over our heads; they insisted on its being a chance shot, and would not be persuaded to the contrary, until I brought down several successively; and at last, with a most satisfactory right and left, silenced their scepticism completely. They were greatly delighted; ‘Mais comment diable, monsieur, faites-vous cela?’ said one hardy old veteran to me. I offered to instruct him, but could not get him to fire rapidly enough, as he was afraid of wasting his ammunition, which was very expensive.”

On this journey they saw the approach of a prairie fire—a splendid and terrible sight—but succeeded in cutting it off by back-firing. The old French voyageurs declare that the Indians were travelling about. This experience suggested to Palliser a description given him by a brother sportsman of a fire which he had witnessed. “We had seen, during the latter part of our day’s journey, a remarkable appearance in the eastern horizon; and during supper observed a smell of burning, and a few light cinders fell about the camp, and presently we remarked that the luminous appearance in the east had very much augmented. There being a little hill in front of us, we could not see distinctly what caused it; but having consulted together, we agreed that it proceeded from a prairie on fire, which, however, was a long way off. About eight o’clock the smell of burning and the glare having materially increased, we walked up to the top of the hill, when a spectacle presented itself to us the most grand that can well be conceived. The whole horizon, from north to south, was one wall of fire, blazing up in some places to a great height, at others merely smouldering in the grass. It was, however, at least, eight miles off; but the wind seemed to set in our direction, so we instantly returned, and took measures to preserve the camp. We were in a corner, as it were, on the bank of the stream, with a good deal of brushwood running up on our left, and the ground sloping up gradually from the creek to the top of the hill. Our guides, on looking at the fire, said that it would not harm us—‘Ce n’est rien—le vent change.’ In short, they would do nothing. In about twenty minutes, however, it approached so near that there was no time to be lost, and all hands were immediately employed in burning a road across the face of the hill, so as to stop the fire at that part. A more picturesque scene could hardly be imagined. The night was very dark, but as far as the eye could reach, all across the horizon, about four miles in front of us, was a broad, bright, lurid glare of fire, with a thick canopy of smoke hanging over it, whose fantastic wreaths, as they curled in the breeze, were tinged with the red reflection of the flames. Even at that distance we could hear the crackling and rushing of the fire, which, as it advanced, caused a strong wind, and every now and then a brighter flame would shoot high up into the black cloud of smoke over the top of the hill, illuminating for an instant our tents and waggons in the dark hollow, and giving a momentary glimpse of the horses which were picketed on the side of the rise, on the crest of which the figures of the men engaged in lighting the opposition fire (which, as it became too extended, they beat down with blankets, only suffering it to burn a space about twelve feet broad, right across the line of the advancing conflagration), stood out in strong relief against the glowing wall of light beyond them; and as they ran about, tossing their arms, and waving the blankets and little torches of lighted grass, they looked in the distance like demons rather than men. We had no time to look at the picturesque, however, for every moment (owing to their previous obstinacy in neglecting to take precaution in time) became more pregnant with danger, and by the time they had burned as much as would only about half cover the camp, the fire was raging in the bottom at the other side of the hill. I ran up for an instant to the top, and shall never forget the scene. Although still half a mile off, the fire seemed close to me, and the heat and smoke were almost intolerable, while the dazzling brightness of the flames made it painful to look at them; they were in three lines nearly parallel, the first of which was just below me, burning with a rushing noise, and crackling as it caught the dry grass, that gave an idea of total destruction which it is impossible to convey, and stretching away over hill and dale for twelve or fourteen miles on each side of me, lighting up the sides of the hills and the little groves of wood far away. The two lines in the rear were not so much connected, and seemed rather licking up any little spots of grass which had escaped at first. Every now and then a prairie hen would flirr past, flying in a wild uncertain manner, as if fear had almost deprived it of the use of its wings; while all the songsters of the grove were wheeling about among the trees, uttering the most expressive cries of alarm, and the melancholy hooting of several owls, and wailing yells of the wolves, together with the shouts and cries of the men, almost drowned occasionally by the roaring of the flames, added to the savage grandeur of the scene, and one could have fancied the end of all things was at hand. On returning to the camp, I found all hands cutting the lassoes and halters of the mules, some of which galloped off instantly into the river, where they remained standing till the hurricane of flame had passed over; the others, seemingly trusting themselves instinctively more to man than to their own energies in such an emergency, followed us up the space which we had burned, and remained quietly there, trembling indeed, but without an effort to escape. By the time the animals were collected in this spot, the fire was blazing on the top of the hill, and we all rushed away with blankets to arrest its progress, if possible, at the part which we had left unguarded; all our efforts would have been in vain, however, and our tents and everything else must have been consumed, but that, just at that weak point, the grass suddenly became thin and scanty, with much stony ground, and we had the satisfaction of seeing the flames stopped there and turned off to the northward along the edge of the brushwood. It was really terrific to be, as we were, trying to break it down in the very middle of the blaze (which, after all, was so narrow that where the flames were not high, you could jump across it); we were, indeed, nearly suffocated by the smoke and heat. As soon as we perceived the fire turned off, we returned to the camp and horses, and all danger was over; but the sight of the three lines of fire stretching up the rising grounds behind the camp, just like the advance of a vast army, was magnificent; and it was still more extraordinary to watch the manner in which the fire passed itself on, as it were, over the tops of the highest trees, to the height of at least forty or fifty feet. The whole scene lasted altogether about two hours, and nothing could be conceived more awfully grand. The extraordinary rushing and crackling sound of the flames was one of the most terrific parts of it, and when one considers that the grass is nowhere more than five or six feet high, it is difficult to imagine how the flame blazes up to such a vast height as it did. The contrast presented, two hours afterwards, was most striking. Instead of the brilliant glare of the fire, and lurid appearance of the sky, there reigned an impenetrable darkness, earth and sky being alike shrouded in a black gloom, which could almost be felt; not a star was to be seen, and the air retained a suffocating, sulphureous smell, as if Satan himself had passed over the earth. We could not distinguish objects at ten paces’ distance, and were right glad when a fresh breeze came gently breathing over the prairie, dissipating the murky vapors still hanging in the atmosphere; and a fine starlit sky, with a sharpish frost, at length relieved us from the close, choking feeling we had experienced for hours before. This prairie fire had travelled at the rate of five miles an hour, bringing with it a strong gale of wind; for, otherwise, the night was quite calm, both before and after it had passed over.”

At Fort Vermilion the Kipp party found a camp of Sioux who were dancing in triumph over the scalp of a woman. With these Indians they at once established friendly relations. The Sioux had a woman captive, whom Palliser and Kipp purchased and set free. Here some of their best horses were stolen, not perhaps by the Indians of this camp, but by others.

Game was scarce and the white men were requested by the Indians who were about to start out on their autumn buffalo-hunt to travel with them, and not to move on in advance lest they should frighten the game, if any were about. The old-time moving of an Indian camp, with its men marching at the head and on the flanks and the women with their travois in the column, is well described. Scouts had been sent on in advance by the Indians to look for buffalo, and orders were given that no one should pass far beyond the camp.

Palliser went out on foot to try to kill some ducks along a little stream, and while looking for the birds was startled by the sound of a gun just behind and the whistle of a bullet passing near his head. The shot was fired by an Indian not far from him. Palliser ran to him and threatened to shoot him if he tried to reload his gun. Another Indian who came up acted as mediator, and explained what had happened. Palliser had not fully understood the order issued by the chiefs, and the man who shot at him was no doubt a “soldier,” trying to make the white man go into camp.

The next day the Indians turned off toward the buffalo and the white men went on, and not very long after reached Fort Pierre, the site of the present city of Pierre, S.D. Not long after leaving Fort Pierre, early in October, they came upon buffalo, which Palliser is careful to note should be called bison, and on the 27th of October reached Fort Union, then the chief depot of the American Fur Company’s trade through the upper Missouri.

II
BUFFALO-RUNNING

Buffalo were plenty and here Palliser had his first run. His views on buffalo-hunting—that extinct sport—are quite worth quoting:

“Buffalo-hunting is a noble sport, the animal being swift enough to give a good horse enough to do to close with him; wheeling round with such quickness as to baffle both horse and rider for several turns before there is any certainty of bringing him down. Added to which, there is the danger of being charged by one old bull while in pursuit of another; this, however, they will not often do, unless when blown by the awkwardness of a bad hunter, in chasing them too far, when they turn and get desperate.

“The first object in approaching a herd of buffalo should be, to get as near as possible before charging them; then, rush in with your horse at full speed, single out one animal, and detach him from the herd, which you will soon do, and after a turn or two be able to get a broadside shot, when you should endeavour to strike him behind the fore-shoulder. While reloading, slacken your horse’s speed to a hand gallop. The general method of loading is to empty the charge from the horn slung round your neck into the palm of your hand, whence you can more easily pour it down the barrel; you then take a bullet wet out of your mouth, and throw it down upon the powder; by which means you avoid the necessity of using the ramrod, a most inconvenient process when riding fast on horseback. I found it from experience better to dispense with both powderhorn, ramrod, and copper caps altogether, and use a light self-priming flint gun, carrying the powder loose in the skirt pockets of my shooting-coat, and thereby having no further delay than to thrust my hand in for it and empty it down the barrel of my gun; accuracy in quantity at such close quarters being of small importance. Taking the bullet from the mouth is both the quickest and safest method of loading; quicker than fumbling for it in your pocket, and safer, because its being wet causes it to stick for a moment without rolling forward on depressing the muzzle to take aim; and my brother sportsmen are doubtless aware of the danger of leaving an empty space in the barrel between the powder and the ball. I would not, however, recommend any one to depend too much upon the detention of the wet bullet, but to fire immediately on lowering the muzzle. I ought here to mention, that in running buffalo, you never bring the gun to your shoulder in firing, but present it across the pummel of the saddle, calculating the angle with your eye and steadying yourself momentarily by standing in the stirrups as you take aim. This is difficult to do at first, and requires considerable practice; but the facility once acquired, the ease and unerring steadiness with which you can shoot is most satisfactory, and any one accustomed to this method condemns ever afterward the lifting of a gun to the shoulder whilst riding at speed, as the most awkward and unscientific bungling.

“We drew up our horses, and proceeded to skin and cut up the animals, and were soon joined by the drays despatched from the fort for the purpose of taking home the meat. What we had killed that day was very good and tolerably fat. I have before adverted to the excellence of bison beef, and the superiority of its fat over that of the domestic ox; but before leaving the subject, I will state two instances in which I myself saw this superiority fully established. “Old Mr. Kipp, at Christmas, thinking to give all the employÉs and voyageurs of the Fur Company at Fort Union a great treat, had for some time previously been fattening up a very nice small-boned heifer cow, which was killed in due time, in prime condition. All who had been reckoning on the treat this would afford them, sat down in high expectation of the ensuing feast; but after eating a little while in silence, gradually dropped off one by one to the bison meat, which was also on the table, and were finally unanimous in condemning the beef, which they said was good enough, but nothing remarkable, and the fat sickening. A plate-full of it was also given, as ordinary buffalo beef, to an Indian woman in another room at the fort, on the same occasion: she pronounced it good food, but, said she, ‘it is both coarse and insipid’; and the fat, if she were to eat much of it, would make her sick.

“I mention these circumstances, having been one of the very few who have seen the comparative merits of the two meats tested by Europeans, Americans, and Indians at the same time, and heard the unanimous verdict in favour of the wild bison.”

It is worth noting that Indians who are old enough to have known buffalo all declare that the flesh of domestic cattle tastes badly and has an evil smell. This, to be sure, may mean no more than that the flesh and fat have an unusual taste and smell, which is disagreeable, because unusual. Probably, however, no one who has habitually eaten buffalo meat but will acknowledge that it is far more tender and delicate than the flesh of domestic cattle.

During the winter hunting was continuous. Indians constantly came to the post to trade or to beg. An interesting visitor was old Bill Williams, a famous trapper of that day, who had long been believed dead. He was one of a party attacked by Blackfeet, when all except Williams had been killed.

This winter Palliser witnessed a fight between the Sioux and the Assiniboines which seems to have resulted in a draw, though one Sioux was killed. These Sioux, by the way, were very troublesome and had shot many of the milch cows, and, more serious than all, a fine thoroughbred bull which belonged at the post.

“The loss of this handsome, noble animal was universally regretted in the fort, for besides his great value as their only means of continuing the breed of domestic cattle in that remote region, he proved most useful in drawing home many a heavy load of meat, and much of the wood for the fuel in the fort; as a tribute to his memory, I must here record a single combat of his with a bison, which, according to the description of his keeper, ‘Black Joseph,’ must have been truly Homeric.

“About three months previous to my arrival at Fort Union, and in the height of the buffalo breeding season, when their bulls are sometimes very fierce, Joe was taking the Fort Union bull, with a cart, into a point on the river above the fort, in order to draw home a load of wood, which had been previously cut and piled ready for transportation the day before, when a very large old bison bull stood right in the cart track, pawing up the earth, and roaring, ready to dispute the passage with him. On a nearer approach, instead of flying at the sight of the man that accompanied the cart, the bison made a headlong charge. Joe had barely time to remove his bull’s head-stall and escape up a tree, being utterly unable to assist his four-footed friend, whom he left to his own resources. Bison and bull, now in mortal combat, met midway with a shock that made the earth tremble. Our previously docile gentle animal suddenly became transformed into a furious beast, springing from side to side, whirling round as the buffalo attempted to take him in flank, alternately upsetting and righting the cart again, which he banged from side to side, and whirled about as if it had been a band-box. Joe, safe out of harm’s way, looked down from the tree at his champion’s proceedings, at first deploring the apparent disadvantage he laboured under, from being harnessed to a cart; but when the fight had lasted long and furious, and it was evident that both combatants had determined that one or other of them must fall, his eyes were opened to the value of the protection afforded by the harness, and especially by the thick strong shafts of the cart against the short horns of the bison, who, although he bore him over and over again down on his haunches, could not wound him severely. On the other hand, the long sharp horns of the brave Fort Union bull began to tell on the furrowed sides of his antagonist, until the final charge brought the bison, with a furious bound, dead under our hero’s feet, whose long fine-drawn horn was deep driven into his adversary’s heart. With a cheer that made the woods ring again, down clambered Joe, and while triumphantly caressing, also carefully examined his chivalrous companion, who, although bruised, blown, and covered with foam, had escaped uninjured.

“It required all Joe’s nigger eloquence to persuade the bull to leave the slain antagonist, over whom he long stood watching, evidently expecting him to get up again to renew the combat, Joe all the time coaxing him forward with, ‘Him dear good bull, him go home now, and do no more work to-day,’ which prospect, black Joe, in common with all his sable brethren, considered as the acme of sublunary felicity.”

During this winter the people at Fort Union were attacked by an epidemic which laid up many of them. Those who were not incapacitated by illness were, therefore, obliged to hunt the harder to supply the post with food, for in that country and at that time food meant meat almost exclusively. Buffalo-running in winter is often hard work, and when to the winter weather are added the difficulties of deep snow, the work becomes not only hard but dangerous. Some incidents of a winter run are given in Palliser’s account of his killing some meat four or five miles from the post. He “had a splendid run, flooring a cow and wounding a bull, which I left for the present, and then stretching away at full speed, I pursued after another uncommonly fine fat cow. She gave me an awful chase, turning and doubling incessantly. My little horse was sorely at a disadvantage in the snow and began to show symptoms of distress; but I could not manage to get a broadside shot. At last making one more push, I got pretty close behind her and raising myself in my stirrups fired down upon her.... She dropped at the report, the bullet breaking her spine. My little horse, unable to stop himself, rolled right over her, making a complete somersault, and sending me, gun and all, flying clean over both of them into a snowdrift. I leaped up, ran back to my horse, which I caught without much difficulty, and was glad to find no more hurt than myself. My gun was filled with snow, of course, but otherwise uninjured.”

The friendly relations between the domestic cattle and the buffalo caused Palliser much surprise, for he was unaware that cattle and buffalo associate intimately and sometimes interbreed.

Cases have been recorded where buffalo in their stampede have carried off considerable numbers of cattle, which became as wild as the buffalo with which they associated. Another point new to Palliser, and perhaps not well understood by naturalists at present, is the fact that buffalo do not, as a rule, use their hoofs to remove the snow from the ground, but push the snow aside with the nose. Palliser says: “I was still more astonished, on attentively observing this friendly intercourse, to see our little calves apparently preferring the companionship of the bison, particularly that of the most colossal bulls, to that of their own species. I took an opportunity one morning of investigating the reason of this more closely, and availing myself of some broken ground, beyond which I saw three of our poor little half-starved calves in company with two gigantic bulls, I crept up very carefully, and lay under the brow of a hill, not fifty yards from the nearest in order to observe them, and was not long in discovering that the bison has the power of removing the snow with his admirably-shaped shovel-nose so as to obtain the grass underneath it. His little companions, unable to remove the frozen obstacle for themselves, were thankfully and fearlessly feeding in his wake; the little heads of two of them visible every now and then, contesting an exposed morsel under his very beard. It was an interesting sight, and I crept softly away again, so as not to disturb them.

“Although the bison scrapes the snow with his nose, I do not think he does so with his hoofs. I have frequently seen the snow, where buffalo have been feeding, stained with slight signs of blood, and after having shot them, found the noses of both cow and bull sore from the constant shovelling.”

Buffalo-hunting was not without its excitement. On a certain day, for example, with an Indian, he killed three bulls, one of which was shot four times, and though seeming very weak did not fall, so that Palliser determined to finish him.

“Walking up therefore to within thirty paces of him, till I could actually see his eyes rolling, I fired for the fourth time directly at the region of the heart, as I thought, but to my utter amazement up went his tail and down went his head, and with a speed that I thought him little capable of, he was upon me in a twinkling. I ran hard for it but he rapidly overhauled me, and my situation was becoming anything but pleasant. Thinking he might, like our own bulls, shut the eyes in making a charge, I swerved suddenly to one side to escape the shock, but, to my horror, I failed in dodging him, for he bolted round quicker than I did, and affording me barely time to protect my stomach with the stock of my rifle, and to turn myself sideways as I sustained the charge, in the hopes of getting between his horns, he came plump upon me with a shock like an earthquake. My rifle-stock was shivered to pieces by one horn, my clothes torn by the other; I flew into mid-air, scattering my prairie-hens and rabbits, which had hitherto hung dangling by leathern thongs from my belt, in all directions, till landing at last, I fell unhurt in the snow, and almost over me—fortunately not quite—rolled my infuriated antagonist, and subsided in a snowdrift. I was luckily not the least injured, the force of the blow having been perfectly deadened by the enormous mass of fur, wool, and hair, that clothed his shaggy head-piece.”

It was here that Palliser saw his first elk, which he describes with great detail, and whose whistle in the breeding season he declares to be the most beautiful sound in all the animal creation; it is like the sound of an enormous soft flute, uttered in a most coaxing tone.

In his hunting in the buffalo range, where, of course, wolves were most abundant, Palliser, as might be supposed, saw many wolves. He speaks with enthusiasm of the splendid white skins which he secured and brought into the post. In several cases he observes that wolves will eagerly devour the carcasses of their own kind. He notes also that they sometimes sleep so soundly that a man may walk up quite close to them. This is something that happened occasionally to all hunters. A hunting companion on one occasion walked to within a few feet of a sleeping deer, and commented in low tones to his companion on the soundness of its slumbers.

During this winter at Fort Union Palliser purchased a mongrel hauling, or travois, dog, sired by a white wolf. The animal was particularly shy of white men, and the old woman who sold it was obliged to catch the dog twice and deliver it a second time. Palliser wanted the dog to haul his travois on a journey he was about to make with two voyageurs. His companions had a pair of mules harnessed to a sleigh. He notes that the mules, of course, must be fed on cottonwood bark, since the grass was now deeply covered with snow. Palliser’s dog—Ishmah by name—like his master, had to depend for food on the rifle. Shortly after starting, Palliser and his two companions separated, he and the dog to go up the river to Fort Mackenzie alone. He travelled chiefly on the ice, using due care to avoid the air-holes which are so frequent and so dangerous, and never leaving the river for any great distance. In the valley, shelter from the terrible storms of the high prairie may always be found. Here the two companions, who by this time had come thoroughly to understand each other, found the journey comfortable and very pleasant.

Ishmah’s friendly relation with the wolves was sometimes very annoying, for often he ran off and played with the young wolves, chasing and being chased by them in turn. One afternoon, however, Ishmah followed a wolf off on the prairie, dragging behind him the travois loaded with everything that Palliser then possessed. He followed, shouting, but the dog had disappeared, and darkness soon obliged the owner to turn back toward the river. He was a long way from timber and all about him was a vast barren waste of snow. The situation was anything but agreeable. “I was about one hundred miles from any known habitation, and nearly one hundred and fifty from my destination, destitute of robe and blankets, with but very little powder in my horn, and only two bullets in my pouch. In short, I was in a pretty considerable sort of a ‘fix,’ and had nothing for it but to make tracks again with all speed for the timber. Fortunately, I found my way back to the river without much difficulty. It was a beautiful moonlight night, which enabled me to collect some fallen wood, and having lighted a fire, I seated myself beside it, and began to consider the probabilities of my ever reaching a trading-post alive, in the event of Ishmah not returning, and how I should economise my ammunition and increase my rate of travelling so as to effect this object. My prospects were dismal enough, nor did I feel cheered as the cold north breeze froze the perspiration which had run down my forehead and face, and formed icicles in my beard and whiskers, that jingled like bells as I shook my head in dismissing from my mind one project after another. At last resigning myself to my fate I took out my pipe, determined to console myself with a smoke, when, alas! on feeling for tobacco I found that was gone too. This was the climax of my misfortune! I looked to the north star and calculated by the position of the Plough that it must have been about ten o’clock, the time at which in England we have our knees under the mahogany, surrounded by friends, discussing a bottle of the best, and awaiting the summons to tea in the drawing-room. I tried to see a faint similarity to the steam of the tea-urn in the smoke from the snow-covered wood on my dreary fire, and endeavoured to trace the forms of sweet familiar faces in the embers, till I almost heard the rustling of fresh white crepe dresses round me, when, hark! I did hear a rustle—it approaches nearer, nearer, and I recognize the scraping of Ishmah’s travail on the snow; another moment and the panting rascal was by my side! I never felt so relieved, and laughed out loud from sheer joy, as I noticed the consciousness he showed by his various cringing movements of having behaved very badly. I was too well pleased, however, at his reappearance to beat him, particularly when I found nothing of his harness and load either missing or injured in the slightest degree. Even the portion of meat which I had secured from the last deer I shot was untouched; so that I had nothing to do but unpack the travail, make my bed, and cook our supper.”

Palliser was greatly interested in the Indians that he saw, and tried to understand something of their ways of thought. He quotes a woman whom he called to look through a telescope as saying: “The white man know of this—here she moved her hand as if writing—what happens very far off, and with this—touching the telescope—they see what is a long way off; now have they invented anything by which they can hear what is saying a long way off?” This seems a more or less reasonable inquiry for the telephone of modern times.

It was at White River Post that Palliser met an Indian who later became one of his best friends and of whom he had much to say. They hunted together and on their first hunt killed a fine wolf which made them several meals. Palliser was unwilling to eat this food until he saw the relish with which his companion was consuming it; but having made the first step and learning how toothsome it was, he hesitated no longer.

Hunting was constantly kept up during the winter, for life depended on it. The weather was, as usual, uncertain. Palliser, whose stock of copper caps had run low, now went from the White River Post to Larpenteur’s Post on Knife River with a party which McKenzie was sending to Fort Union. He wished also to visit Mr. Chardon, who was in command at the Minitaree Fort. The party set out on a fine sunny morning, and the heat was so great that one of them—Frederick—who was stout, walked in his shirt-sleeves puffing and blowing like a grampus.

At the Grand Detour—the Big Bend—they attempted to make the cut-off, which is only fourteen miles across, instead of following the river-bank for about forty miles. Palliser tried to persuade his companions to go the long way, showing them what a bad position they would be in if caught in a snow-storm on the prairie. However, the Indians believed that spring had come, and they started and finally camped on a little stream in the bed of which the snow was deeply drifted.

“Night was then coming on, and it began to rain slightly; but we brightened up the fire again, little knowing what was in store for us. Shortly after dark the wind veered round to the north-east, accompanied by snow, and at last it blew so hard as to oblige us to put out the lire, especially on account of the gunpowder. Owing to our exposed situation, the wind mercilessly drove sparks, and even lighted brands, whirling amongst us, turn which way we would, as the eddies of wind drove furiously down the gullies against our little encampment from all points of the compass. Old Peekay and his wife collected every blanket and skin they could muster. I seized my buffalo-robe and blankets, called Ishmah to me, round whom I put my arms, and hugging him close to my breast, shivered through the night.

“Never shall I forget the horrible hours of suspense I passed, expecting every instant the feeling of sleep to overpower me, knowing the fatal consequences and fearing an inability to resist it. I found my faithful dog an invaluable friend, and really believe he was the means of saving my life; for I seemed to feel the caloric, as it issued from him, preserve my body from turning into stone. Day at last dawned, and the wind abated. We contrived to move to a less-exposed situation, where we lighted a roaring fire, and warmed ourselves, then renewed our journey, reaching the opposite extremity of the Grand Detour by nightfall.

“Our supper that night was a very scanty one of dried buffalo-meat, the last of the provision with which Martin had supplied us. As for the unfortunate dogs that accompanied the Indian Peekay and his squaw, they, poor wretches had not eaten a morsel for weeks; and so awful an array of starved spectres never were seen.”

Fortunately, the next day a bull was killed, and, wonderfully enough, by an old Indian who that morning had made a special prayer for food. The Indian was old and infirm and had not fired a gun or killed game for many years, but certainly in this case his prayer was answered.

Palliser found Mr. Chardon very ill with a violent attack of rheumatism, but extremely glad to receive his guest. To this post a little later came Boucharville, one of the most celebrated hunters and trappers of the region. He was a French Canadian of the best type, but had recently suffered great misfortunes, having lost his horses through the severity of the winter, had his traps stolen by Indians, barely escaped capture by a war-party, and finally broken the sight of his rifle.

This man Palliser engaged to make a trip back to Fort Union and thence on horseback up the Yellowstone River, intending at the close of the trip to make bull-hide boats and transport their skins and other effects back to Fort Union by water. For this trip two additional men were hired, a stout Canadian named PÉrey and a half-breed named Paquenode. Palliser and Boucharville were to do the hunting; the other two were to keep the camp, mind the horses, and cook. In the meantime it was early in April and the wild-fowl were beginning to arrive from the South. Palliser was keen to shoot some but had no shot. He tried to manufacture it and finally did so by beating out lead quite flat, cutting it into little bars, and again cutting these into little cubes an eighth of an inch each way. These were put in a small metal boiler in the kitchen of the Fort with some smooth stones and ashes and the boiler was revolved until the sharp corners were worn off the cubes and they approached the spherical. With this imperfect ammunition, good execution was done, for of course the birds were extremely abundant.

III
UP THE YELLOWSTONE RIVER

The ice broke up in the Missouri on the 17th of April, and as the rising water forced up the ice, the explosion was like distant thunder. For over thirty hours the river rushed by in a furious torrent, carrying enormous blocks of ice and roaring with a splendid sound as the masses passed along, forcing everything before them.

Soon after this the party started for Fort Union. They had very little food; some dried meat, a little bag of biscuits, some coffee, and a quart bottle of molasses to sweeten the coffee. During the march they had opportunities to secure eggs from the nests of the water-fowl, which were already laying, but even with this help, on the fifth day they were reduced to one biscuit each. “Early next morning we were passing along the side of the river, very hungry, and making a short march with the intention of hunting in the afternoon. PÉrey carried a double-barrelled gun loaded with buck-shot, and was walking near the pack-horse, Ishmah and his travail following me, when we were astonished by the sudden appearance of four antelopes climbing up the bank close at hand. Owing to the steepness of the bank, they did not come in sight of us until they had reached the summit; the moment they did so they wheeled round, but not before PÉrey fired and shot one, which rolled down the bank into the water, and was carried down the stream. Boucharville and I tugged at our gun-covers; his he could not remove quickly enough; I tore away the thong of mine—which had run into a knot—with my teeth, and cocked my rifle. By this time the other three antelopes were swimming away in the broad stream; a little eddy in the rapid current turned one of them broadside to me; I fired, hitting the animal between wind and water, behind the shoulder,—its head drooped, as, floating dead on the surface of the water, it was carried down the stream after its companion. PÉrey then performed a splendid feat; he ran down the side of the river far enough to enable him to undress,—which he partly did in running,—jumped into the half-frozen water, along which the blocks of ice were still at intervals coursing, striking out boldly, laid his hand on the first carcass, then with great exertion reached the second as it floated by, and brought both into the bank: this was the more fortunate, for half a minute more would have swept them past the bend into the rapids beyond where the scene occurred, and involved not only the loss of our game, but a considerable risk to this brave fellow.

“The two antelopes afforded us quite a sufficiency of food to last until our arrival at Fort Union, which we reached early on the ninth day after our departure from the MinitarÉes.”

At Fort Union food was scarce. The Indians camped there were afraid to venture away from the post to hunt, and immediately about the post white hunters and Indians had been hunting until all the game had been killed or driven away.

It did not take long to get together such supplies as might be had for Palliser’s party—saddles, bridles, ammunition, a couple of traps, some coffee, sugar, and salt. It was necessary to cross the Missouri River from north to south below the mouth of the Yellowstone. This done, a few miles would take them into a land of plenty, a region where game was abundant; but the crossing would be difficult. The river was high and the water still cold. While going down the river they were fortunate enough to see deer and a little later some elk, of which they secured two. Their abundance now made them think of the starvation back at Fort Union and, packing up their surplus meat, they took it back to the fort to exchange for certain much needed things. Among these things were fishhooks, awls, needles, and, most important of all, an excellent four-oared skiff.

With the boat they succeeded in taking their horses and party across the Missouri, and this done they cached their precious skiff, burying it under the willows on the south bank of the Yellowstone, close to its junction with the Missouri.

Almost at once they found themselves in a country of abundant game, and of this game the antelope chiefly impressed the author. Of them he said: “These march in line, sometimes for several miles together, and, by imitating the movements of their leader, exhibit the most striking effects, resembling military evolutions: they simultaneously whirl round their white breasts and red flanks, like the ‘Right face!—Left face!’ of a regiment on parade. Obedient to the motions of their leader, when he stops, all stop: he stamps and advances a step, the slight similar impulse waves all down along the line; he then gives a right wheel, and round go all their heads for one last look; finally, he gives the right face about, and away ‘their ranks break up like clouds before a Biscay gale.’ Stately wapiti wandered on the plain, feeding not far from the willows, to whose friendly shelter in they crashed the moment we presented ourselves to their view. And as we approached steep frowning cliffs, overhanging the river, I saw, for the first time, the wild sheep or grosse corne of the Rocky Mountains, balancing themselves, chamois-like, on the tops of most inaccessible crags, whither they had rushed on first catching sight of us.” He repeats the ancient fable that the sheep horns are so large and solid as to enable the animal to safely fling himself on his head from considerable heights.

He made a hunt for this new game and succeeded in killing a great ram, while Boucharville got two lambs, at this season much better food than the ram, for the sheep in early spring, feeding largely on the wild leeks, often tastes of this so strongly as to be almost uneatable.

In this land of plenty the party had a pleasant, easy time and lived like fighting-cocks. Palliser’s clothing by this time was falling to pieces, and he was obliged to replace it by a coat made of an elk-skin, and trousers of the hides of blacktail deer. While in camp here Indians appeared on the other side of the river, but did not discover the hunters. However, the half-breed Paquenode, who appears to have been a natural coward, was frightened nearly to death and even tried to seize the best horse in the party in order to run away.

It was now late in May, and Palliser determined to build some boats and return to Fort Union, and then, taking up the skiff buried at the mouth of the Yellowstone, to row down to the MinitarÉe Fort about two hundred and eighty miles. The skeletons of the boats were made of willows, and these frames covered with bull-hides. After the canoes were loaded, Palliser and Boucharville occupied the first boat and towed the second. He sent the other men back to Fort Union with the horses.

Late one evening, as they were floating down the river, they heard voices, and presently passed an Indian camp unobserved, and landing a little below it quietly returned to the vicinity and found the party to consist of two old men, an old woman, and ten young people. After a little observation, the two white men walked into the Crow camp, where the terrified children ran away screaming. The fears of the Indians were soon allayed, for Boucharville could talk Crow, and the relations between the two parties became very cordial.

While at Fort Union Palliser sent his horses by an Indian friend down to Fort Berthold, while he, with two of his three men, raised the buried skiff and started down the river. On their way an attack was threatened by a war-party of Indians, while the men were out looking for mountain sheep. Boucharville and Palliser retreated to the camp and there took up a position in the timber, and the Indians, after some threatening demonstrations, made up their minds that the position was too strong to be attacked and moved off. Later, the travellers came upon two white trappers whose arms had become useless and who were then engaged in making bows and arrows with which to kill game. These two, GardÉpÉe and Dauphin, were competent young men and made a valuable addition to the party. It was only the next day when Palliser, while skinning a deer that he had killed, was called by Dauphin, and as he ran toward him and passed over a hill he saw a bear standing on his hind legs looking about him, while Dauphin, hidden behind a rock, was industriously snapping his useless pistol at the bear. When he saw Palliser the bear ran, but was brought back by Dauphin, who imitated the call of a buffalo-calf, so that Palliser shot at him, but only hit him in the flank.

“The bear clawed at the spot where the ball struck him, and charged up to within twenty paces of us, while I was reloading; whereupon Dauphin snapped his pistol again at him without effect. Fortunately for us, Bruin was only a two-year-old, and afraid to rush in, though large enough to have smashed both of us, defenceless as we were at the moment, and, before I could get on my percussion cap, bolted over the brow of the hill. I was still so thoroughly blown from my run over the rocky ground, that I gave up my heavy rifle to Dauphin, who threw down the useless pistol, and started in chase, I following him. He soon got a shot at the bear, who turned round, clawed at the wound, gave a savage growl, and ran into one of those little clumps which always mark a watercourse in the hilly country. I took the rifle again, loaded, and pursued the enemy right into the clump, in spite of the remonstrances of Dauphin, and, getting a sight of him first, gave him a finishing shot between eye and ear. Although he was but a young bear, only in his third year, it was with great difficulty that we could drag him out; he measured five feet four inches from rump to the muzzle, and his claws were three inches and three-quarters long. Had he been fully grown, and possessed of that amount of courage and ferocity with which the old grisly bears, both male and female, are endowed, it would certainly have fared badly with us that day. However, we skinned our prize with great satisfaction; and I was exceedingly pleased with the pluck and daring of my companion, who had been twice charged by the bear, and whose pistol had twice snapped.”

A day or two later Palliser and Dauphin had a fine buffalo-chase which led them a long way. They started in pursuit of a new-born buffalo-calf, and this is what happened:

“The cow, of course, went off, and at a tolerable pace, followed by the calf, at an astonishing rate for so young a beast. Dauphin wanted to shoot the mother, in order not only to shorten the race, but to increase our chance of rearing the calf, by cutting off the cow’s udder when dead; but that, of course, I would not allow, and ended the discussion by knocking up the muzzle of the rifle which he was using with the barrel of my gun. Then bidding him follow my example, I threw down my gun to lighten myself, calling on Boucharville to take care of the two; and drawing our belts a hole tighter, we dashed off again up hill and down dale, till at last we stretched away right out along the prairie for five or six miles. By-and-by the little calf began to shows symptoms of failing, and the cow, allowing her instinct of self-preservation to overcome her maternal attachment, made the best of her way off, and crossing some inequalities in the ground, was lost to the sight of her offspring. The little fellow then stopped; whereupon Dauphin, who possessed a wonderful facility for imitating the calls of animals, immediately began to grunt like a buffalo-cow, and to our great amusement the little beast turned about, cocked up his tail, and came galloping back to us. We then turned about, and to our great delight it frisked round us all the way into the camp. I was most anxious to get it to the fort as early as possible, for I knew that if I could do so in time, I might by chance be able to rear it on pounded Indian corn and lukewarm water.”

The next day another calf was captured out of a herd which was crossing the river, and now Palliser had a pair which he hoped he might succeed in getting to Europe—as later he did. For the first day or two of their captivity these little calves were fed on strong broth, but there were domestic cows at the fort and these reared the calves.

Shortly after Palliser’s arrival at the fort, Mr. Chardon died, having first requested Palliser to write his will. Boucharville, when sounded on the question of making another hunt, declared that he would go wherever Palliser wished to; and the next day they took the horses across the river with the skiff, intending to hunt up the Little Missouri River and to look for grizzly bears in the Turtle Mountains. On the fourth day of their journey from Fort Berthold they reached the Turtle Mountains. Here they found a war lodge, built by a party of MinitarÉes the year before, and took possession of it. Boucharville, an experienced man, did not like to remain in this debatable land, which was on the border of the Sioux and MinitarÉe territory, and began at once to figure on when they could get away.

Here bear, antelope, elk, and sheep were extremely abundant and food was always plentiful. One day while Palliser was beginning to skin an elk, just killed, Boucharville, who was about to clean his gun, was charged by a grizzly, and escaped her by dashing into a clump of rose-bushes. The bear, which had cubs with her, charged after Palliser, who was running toward his horse, which he feared would be lost if it smelt the bear. When he reached the horse he stopped and faced the bear, which also stopped and stood up, and then turned and ran. Palliser shot at the bear, but hit her too far back. She stopped to bite at her wound and gave him time to load again. Just as he was putting a copper cap on the nipple the bear rose on her hind legs, and he sent a bullet through her heart. Palliser was very lucky in that his horse did not pull back or shy, and that there was nothing to disturb his aim. When the horse was brought to the bear and the skin put upon him, he paid no attention and showed no signs of fear, a very unusual thing, for horses are commonly very much afraid even of bear-skins.

After they reached camp Dauphin started out to capture one of the young bears, but as Palliser thought the chances of finding them were very slight he did not go with him, but afterward regretted this. Dauphin killed one of the little bears and tried to take the other alive, but it fought fiercely, tearing his clothes and cutting him with its claws. Dauphin had armed himself with a stout club, but, even so, had done no more than make a draw of the battle. They now started back toward the Little Missouri and on the way saw a bear, which, to Palliser’s very great disgust, was lost by the eagerness of Dauphin.

At the Little Missouri Palliser went duck-shooting with his smooth-bore gun, but coming on the old carcass of a bull found all about it large bear tracks, some of which looked very fresh. He drew his charges of shot and rammed down a couple of balls, and followed the tracks from the prairie until at last he discovered a large bear walking slowly along. “I approached as near as I could without his perceiving me, and, lying down, tried Dauphin’s plan of imitating the lowing of a buffalo-calf. On hearing the sounds, he rose up, displaying such gigantic proportions as almost made my heart fail me; I croaked again, when, perceiving me, he came cantering slowly up. I felt that I was in for it, and that escape was impossible, even had I declined the combat; so cocking both barrels of my Trulock, I remained kneeling until he approached very near, when I suddenly stood up, upon which the bear, with an indolent roaring grunt, raised himself once more upon his hind-legs, and just at the moment when he was balancing himself previously to springing on me, I fired, aiming close under his chin: the ball passing through his throat, broke the vertebrÆ of the neck, and down he tumbled, floundering like a great fish out of water, till at length he reluctantly expired. I drew a long breath as I uncocked my left barrel, feeling right glad at the successful issue of the combat. I walked round and round my huge prize, surveying his proportions with great delight; but as it came on to rain, I was obliged to lose no time in skinning him. I got soaked through before I succeeded in removing his tremendous hide, and then found it too heavy for me to take away; so I was obliged to return to camp without the trophy of my conquest. It was dark when I arrived. Boucharville and Dauphin had built a most comfortable little hut of logs and bark, and having laid down the skins and spread our beds inside, with the saddles at our heads for pillows, and a good roaring fire outside at our feet, we fell heartily to our supper of elk meat and coffee.

“At daybreak next morning I repaired on horseback to the scene of my conflict with the bear, and found, to my great delight, on my arrival at the spot, that neither the skin nor the carcass of the bear had been touched by the wolves. This fact confirmed to me the testimony of the hunters and trappers of these parts, as to the great awe in which the grisly bear is held by the wolves and lesser animals of prey. If a bear kills an animal, or finds a dead carcass on the prairie, he appropriates it; and though many a hungry prowler passing by may look wistfully at the choice morsel, it is like the eastern monarch’s share,’taboo’; and even when the mountain monarch is absent, the print of his paw is a seal sufficient for its security. It cost me considerable exertion to place the reeking hide on my saddle; but I succeeded at last, and climbing on the top of it, lighted my pipe and rode back into camp. Riding along, towards noon we descried another bear, a lean, hungry-looking monster, prowling about searching for pommes blanches, and, to judge from his appearance, likely to afford us a pretty severe fight. In approaching him, we did not take any precaution to avoid giving him our wind, concluding, from my former experience, that he would not decline the combat; but in this instance I was mistaken, for rushing away down a ravine, he was soon lost to our view. This result, although it disappointed me at the time, yet gave me a further insight into the disposition and habits of the animal, and agreed with the accounts I had heard from many hunters and trappers with whom I had previously conversed on the subject; namely, that a grisly bear will, in most instances, run away from a man on getting his wind, unless previously wounded, or under such circumstances as to make him think that he cannot escape. Old Mr. Kipp, of Fort Union, told me that once, when on one of his numerous journeys from the States, he was in the Indian country, and had gone out of camp with his double-barrelled gun to look for ducks; he was seen from a distance by a grisly bear, who came cantering towards him. The day was fine, and the old gentleman did not know which way the wind blew, but had sufficient presence of mind to pluck off some of the woolly material of which his blue blanket capote was composed, and throw it into the air; and marking the direction of the current ran a little distance round, till he got full in the line of it, and then stood bolt upright facing Bruin, who rose on his hind-legs for a moment, surveying the tough old man, and then shuffled off, shaking his head as if he considered him meat rather too savoury for his palate.”

There were other adventures with grizzly bears and Palliser recounts a story told by Boucharville about a bear which sprang upon the leading bull of a herd of buffalo and killed it. Other accounts have been given of such battles where the bull killed the bear.

The time for Palliser’s return was now at hand, and loading his skins into boats made of buffalo-hide he floated down the river to the MinitarÉe post, where James Dawson the old fur trader was now in charge. A little later, boarding the Fur Company’s steamer “Martha,” he took his way with all his trophies down the river and at last reached St. Louis, and his prairie hunt was over. The publication of his book, The Solitary Hunter, had unexpected results. Some time after its appearance, the British Colonial Office chose Palliser to command an expedition to explore British North America and to topographically determine the boundary line between the British possessions and the United States, from Lake Superior west to the Cascade Range. This expedition was in the field for three years or more. Papers reporting its progress were published by Parliament in 1859, and finally, about 1863, the British Government published Palliser’s detailed journal, containing reports on the geography, agricultural resources, and commercial possibilities of far western America. Later Palliser was a magistrate for County Waterford and, for a time, served as high sheriff of that county.