Outing . What areyou doing here ? Did I not tell you notto come ? They hung their heads. Iinsisted on knowing what they weredoing here. They were silent a longwhile. Then one pointed to the tepeesin the distance and said they had come tosee the white man and get some money. Shame on you ! I cried. I told themthey were less worthy than their dogsand horses and I drove them from mydoor. And so it has gone on from thatday to this until, as I told you, at thepresent rate of decay the prairie Indian ofCanada will be extinct in fifteen years. Upstairs, in the rigidly plain little par-sonage of the c
Outing . What areyou doing here ? Did I not tell you notto come ? They hung their heads. Iinsisted on knowing what they weredoing here. They were silent a longwhile. Then one pointed to the tepeesin the distance and said they had come tosee the white man and get some money. Shame on you ! I cried. I told themthey were less worthy than their dogsand horses and I drove them from mydoor. And so it has gone on from thatday to this until, as I told you, at thepresent rate of decay the prairie Indian ofCanada will be extinct in fifteen years. Upstairs, in the rigidly plain little par-sonage of the chapel, the good priest keepsa few Indian curiosities. He prizes highlythe hunting arrows he has collected andsaved, for they recall the era of the gave me two and told with sparklingeyes how he had more than once seen anIndian shoot one clear through a bison sothat it fell upright in the prairie sod toquiver there when the horseman and thebison had passed by. Ah, those were the Indians days, he. WHO GOES THERE ? Reproduced from Outing, Vol. VIII., page 322. OUTING FOR OCTOBER. said, and these are the white an hour later I was passing thetepees of a band of Blood Indians onthe outskirts of Calgary. The men andwomen were away and only the childrenand some old hags were in the tents. Thelittle redskins looked at my arrows withignorant curiosity, but the old squawslaughed and rubbed their hands when theysaw them. It was like a recollection ofParadise to fallen angels for them to seea hunting arrow once again. And there are no more bison ? A herdof about forty was being kept for breed-ing near Winnipeg last summer by pri-vate persons and I was toldthe scene of experiment wasto be moved to QuAppelle,in Assiniboia, where theblending of bison with do-mestic cattle was to be triedon a large scale in a well- met a hunter who positively declares thathe saw the herd. If is wild and is com-posed of about twenty-five old bulls whichwere driven out of the herds years ago by
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