beef--_all_ to-morrow's dinner!"

To rush out of the house and over the prairie after the brute was the
work of an instant; not so to catch him. On I ran, urged to redoubled
exertions by Mrs. C----, who pursued me, excitedly flourishing her table
napkin, while her little girl scrambled after her, screaming at being
left behind. Every now and then the dog would stop to take breath,
sitting still with aggravating coolness till I almost touched him, when
off he would start again, at redoubled speed. At last, after wildly
throwing two or three handfuls of stones at him and all the sticks I
could pick up as I passed, I aimed furiously at the barracks and hit the
dog on the head, when he dropped the beef, and I returned, hot and
breathless, but triumphant.

The days were sultry, but the nights cool enough to make a blanket
necessary, except just before the frequent thunderstorms. Well might the
Indians call the province "Manitoba" (God speaking), in their awe of the
Great Spirit whose voice alone is so terrible. October is the most
beautiful month in that region, bright, clear, and balmy--the true Indian
summer, with cool, dewy nights, when the aurora sent its long streaks of
white and red light from the horizon to the zenith, to fall again in a
shower of sparks, each night more beautiful than the last. Till, early in
November, a storm of rain, succeeded by snow and frost, ended our Indian
summer, and in forty-eight hours we had winter. Not weeks of slushy snow,
changeable temperature, chilling rains, and foggy skies, as in Ontario,
but cold, frosty, bracing winter at once. By the end of November the
river was blocked, the boats had stopped running, and our only
communication with the outside world was by means of the daily stage. But
the wretchedness of a journey over the prairie to the nearest railway
station was only encountered by those whose business made it unavoidable.