During the afternoon the maid came in, looking rather flurried, and said
that visitors in the kitchen wished to see us. Going there, we were
greeted by seven Indians and their squaws, come to pay a New Year's
visit. As I looked at their brown faces and long, loose hair, memories of
stories told by cousins in the Hudson Bay Company's service, of having to
kiss all the squaws on New Year's Day, sent the blood with a rush back to
my heart; but, happily, this ceremony was dispensed with. Only one of the
party could speak English--a handsome, clear-skinned, straight-featured
Indian, in blue blanket coat, red sash, leggings, and gaily-decorated
hat. He stepped forward and made a little speech, wishing us "A long life
of many moons, sunshine, health, and rich possessions, and the smile of
the Good Spirit upon the blue-eyed papoose;" finishing by shaking hands
all round. The others, with an "Ugh!" of acquiescence, and smiling faces,
followed his example. Our hostess was unable to give them wine or whisky,
because of the stringent prohibitory laws, but she regaled them on great
slices of cake, with which they were much pleased. When Mr. C---- came in
from the line with his dog-train--four strong beasts drawing a light
cariole or covered tobogan, more like a great shoe than anything
else--the blue and red coat of his Indian runner, Tommy Harper, was much
admired by our visitors; and he told us afterwards of their admiration
for everything they saw in the house. This Tommy was a good-tempered old
fellow, but, when not running, was invariably asleep or smoking over the
kitchen fire.

About the middle of January (1877) we had a terrible snow-storm, the
worst that had been known in Manitoba for years. At five o'clock in the
evening the wind rose suddenly, and in half an hour was blowing a gale,
sending the snow whirling through the air in such blinding volume, that
it was impossible to distinguish anything twenty yards off. As night
closed in, which it does early at that season, the storm increased in