AN INTERESTING TRIP.
 WHERE NO WHITE MAN HAD EVER BEEN BEFORE.
 I N the year i865, when on the north boundary line
    of the United States, I met an Indian who at-
tached himself to me as my necarnis, or best friend, and
who desired that I should go with him some forty miles
from that point, to examine what he claimed was a bed
of coal; so, asking him how much, and receiving the
reply, "$5o," I consented to give it, and began prepa-
rations for the journey. It was winter, and Vermilion
lake was frozen over, so that my " shebang," as I called
it, consisting of a horse and covered sled, could easily
make the trip. The Indian was to meet me some dis-
tance from the camp, so as not to excite the suspicion
of our exploring party, and in the morning, bright and
early, myself and Porter, the interpreter, started out,
and soon Nar-go-ba-da was seen in the distance, await-
ing our coming. Indian-like, he wanted a gallon of
"scoot-a-wa-boo," or whisky, before he would budge
an inch. I positively declined to give him this, but I
told him that I would give him a drink then, and as
the fatigue of the journey increased, he should have
more; so, satisfied, he gave the lead, and we followed.
It was a crisp, bright, sharp winter morning, and the
wide expanse of the frozen lake stretched out before
us. Nar-go-ba-da loomed up ahead; I followed; Porter
was behind. When about eight miles from our point
of departure, I was startled with the vision behind me
of a large body of men and horses following our trail,
and the more I looked the more distinct they became.
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