the race of life. What was to be done? What course lay open? Serve on;
let the dull routine of barrack-life grow duller; go from Canada to the
Cape, from the Cape to the Mauritius, from Mauritius to Madras, from
Madras goodness knows where, and trust to delirium tremens, yellow fever,
or: cholera morbus for promotion and advancement; or, on the other hand,
cut the service, become in the lapse of time governor of a penitentiary,
secretary to a London club, or adjutant of militia. And yet-here came the
rub-when every fibre of one's existence beat in unison with the true
spirit of military adventure, when the old feeling which in boyhood had
made the study of history a delightful pastime, in late years had grown
into a fixed unalterable longing for active service, when the whole
current of thought ran in the direction of adventure-no matter in what
climate, or under what circumstances-it was hard beyond the measure of
words to sever in an instant the link that bound one to a life where such
aspirations were still possible of fulfilment; to separate one's destiny
for ever from that noble profession of arms; to become an outsider, to
admit that the twelve best years of life had been a useless dream, and
to bury oneself far away in some Western wilderness out of the reach or
sight of red coat or sound of bugle-sights and sounds which old
associations would have made unbearable. Surely it could not be done; and
so, looking abroad into the future, it was difficult to trace a path
Which could turn the flank of this formidable barrier flung thus suddenly
into the highway of life.

Thus it was that one, at least, in Great Britain watched with anxious
gaze this small speck of revolt rising so far away in the vast wilderness
of the North-West; and when, about the beginning of the month of April,
1870, news came of the projected despatch of an armed force from Canada
against the malcontents of Red River, there was one who beheld in the
approaching expedition the chance of a solution to the difficulties which