When the bright warm days and cool starry¹ nights of the Indian summer gave place to the sharp days and frosty nights of early winter—when young ice formed on the lakes and rendered canoeing impossible, and the ducks and geese had fled to warmer climes, and the Frost King had sent his first messengers of snow to cover the wilderness² with a winding-sheet and herald³ his return to the Winter Palace—then it was that the banished⁴ Red River settlers began to feel the pinch of poverty and to understand the full extent of the calamity⁵ that had befallen them.

 

We have not space to follow them through all the details of that winter at Jack⁶ River. Some died, all suffered more or less; but they had to endure it, for escape from the country to the civilised world was even more difficult and hopeless than escape from the dreaded⁷ wilds of Siberia. The men hunted, fished under the ice, trapped, and sustained themselves and their families in life during the long, dreary⁸ winter; the only gain being that they became more or less expert at the Red-man’s work and ways of life.

 

Only two of the Indians remained with them to help them over their difficulties—namely, Okématan and Kateegoose, with their respective squaws. These last were invaluable⁹ as the makers¹⁰ of moccasins and duffle socks and leathern coats, without which existence in such a climate would have been impossible. They also imparted their knowledge in such matters to the squaws of the white men.

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