ways a wind from some quarter stirring on depth of blue, which taxes and delights the the prairies. It seldom blows from the eye. This firmness and quality of colour in south more than a few hours continuously, the sky adds great solemnity to the North and this is fortunate, for there is danger in west night, emphasizing the clear and sepa its breath, and anything but healing on its rate beauty of the stars. The prevailing wings. It is this evil wind which, when pro- winter-sunset here is orange, deepening tolonged, lifts the locust from the sandy plains wards the horizon, but fading zenithward of the Great American Desert, and blows into chromic yellows of fainter and fainter him up to the lusty wheat-fields of Red Ri- shades. Over these floats a broad riband ver. It brings with it the dim edge of fever, of amethyst, which stiffens at its upper edge the dread of pestilence and famine, the lan- and blends with the imperial blue. The guor and stupor of ineffable heat. Thunder chill, tawny red of a Canadian winter-sunstorms are very frequent. Though short, set is not so noticeable here, nor that blotted they are sharp and dangerous, and a season or bleared aspect of the night-sky which seldom passes without some loss of life by frequently makes the winter evenings of lightning. Tornadoes are rare in summer, the eastern Provinces lustreless and dull. and only one destructive wind-storm has January is a keen month, with an occasional burst upon the country in eight years. It storm, but not much snow, a feature which lasted for several hours, and its effects in frequently characterises the succeeding Red River Settlement were unpleasantly month. The terror of the winter, if I may marked. The juncture of the seasons is so speak, begins in the early part of March, not very noticeable. Spring glides insensi- when those dreadful storms of snow and bly into summer, summer into fine autumn rain take place which make travel on the weather, which, during the equinox, breaks plains so dangerous. Occasionally almost up in a series of heavy gales of wind accom- an entire winter may pass away without any panied by rain and snow. These are fol- serious or protracted storm, as, for example, lowed by that divine aftermath, the Indian the winter before last, which was very mild Summer, which attains its true glory only in from the beginning of the year until spring. the North-west. The haziness and dreamy But though this is sometimes the case, it is fervour of this mysterious season has often unnecessary to conceal the fact that several been attributed to the prairie fires, which weeks of winter are very trying, not so rage over half a continent in the fall, and much from the cold, which, for reasons alevolve an enormous amount of heat and ready given, is easily endured, but from the smoke. My own observations incline me prevalence of keen and biting winds. The to ccept this explanation, as upon no other sky is bright, the snow sparkles beneath the m cerial grounds can they be accounted for, sun, the sun turns a warm and generous face standing alone, and as inexplicable as the to the earth. Viewed from within doors the zodiacal light. Winter begins with crisp clear scene is enchanting and inviting; but it is weather, which grows increasingly cold and all vanity and illusion. Outside and away cloudy. The wind wheels to the north-east, from obstruction a still small wind is blowand a furious storm of snow sets in, which ing, generally in a direction opposite to sometimes lasts for several days. The one's own-a stream of intensely chilled weather then clears up, and the rest of air, noiseless, liquid, incessant, and from the month is generally fair, though exces- which there is no escape. It pierces an orsively cold. For many weeks the heavy dinary wrap like a needle, and no specious matted vegetation of the prairies prevents device, or cosy-looking invention of the drifting, and the level expanse gleams with traveller, can shield the most prominent a faint yellowish tinge, caused by the innu- feature from attack and disgrace. Luckily merable grassy points protruding from the it does not chill one's bones. The moment snow. Nothing can excel the purity and a shelter is reached its spell is over; delicacy of the sky-colours in the North-west. Richard's himself again, feeling thankful over There is a warmth of tint and a touch of his spirits and water for having at last outspring in the fleecier clouds which it is diffi-witted the invisible demon without. Barcult to harmonize with the cold and illimit-ring this annoyance, the average Canadian able expanse beneath; whilst the sky itself is satisfied with the winter of the Northhas a translucency, a boundless and serene west, and not only tolerant of it, but de lighted with it. As regards the animal economy of our race, it is enough to know that it is suitable to it, and temperate enough to conserve the highest physical development of the European, be he Teuton or Celt. The great storms which one hears of in the East in connexion with this country are infrequent, but certainly very violent and dangerous. A brief description of one of them may be interesting to the eastern reader, and will suffice for all. It was preceded by some eight days of a strong west wind, not sufficiently boisterous to prevent travel. These were followed by a day of remarkable mildness and beauty; so much so that we were completely deceived, and camped on the open prairie, near the edge of a little clump of wild plum trees. Toward night snow began to fall, accompanied by a rough wind from the north, which increased in violence and fury, and kept the party busy all night keeping up the fire. By morning the storm had become a terrific hurricane, extinguishing our fire, and driving us to the shelter of a poplar thicket to the east of our The wind lifted the snow from the camp. plains like powder, and swept it onward in a lofty, blinding, and overwhelming mass. The noise of its commotion was simply appalling, and rose above mere moanings and howlings into a prolonged yell, as if the spirits of anguish and exquisite pain had their abiding-place in the storm. To remove a few feet from each other was to become instantly invisible; and, circumscribed in every way, our thoughts in due process became limited to a consideration of extreme misery. But after all we were safe. We had health, food, bedding, and a troublesome outline of a fire, and, compared with the situation of one of our number, our position That a man of coolness and resource can save his life, even under the most desperate circumstances, is evinced by the case of Mr. J. J. Setter, a native of Red River, and a man of great humour, courage, and physical strength. He was one of our party, and, about daybreak of the first morning of the storm, started from camp in order to find a little hut built as a shelter for the mail-carriers, who, the country being then an uninhabited wilderness, carried the mails with dog-trains. After some search, for it was impossible to see more than a few feet in advance, he found the hut, made a fire, and then re was a secure one. 7 But the The Instances are known of men and dogtrains having been completely buried by such storms for several days, and who yet came out alive. Instead of heralding speedy death, with food and bedding at hand such an occurrence is in fact a protection. snow forms a close and comfortable shelter, where there is no danger of being frostitten, if men have only sense enough togie Hesitation quiet, and take precautions against chilling after emerging from the snow. In one of and confusion of mind have much to do with loss of life in such storms. them a large mule-train, while crossing the great trackless waste between Fort Abercrombie and Devil's Lake in Dacotah Territory, was caught and overwhelmed. Those who did not get bewildered escaped with their lives, whilst the others were, of course, frozen to death. Many of the mules turned tail and fled before the storm, and others were found standing in their tracks, stonedead, the drivers only discovering the fact upon vainly attempting to drive them into camp. On the third morning of our storm the sun rose unclouded, and the plains sparkled Their surface showed like like a diamond. an ocean, wreathed and curled into a thou 1 sand fantastic shapes, and beaten by the tempest into a stiff crust, which bore us without snow-shoes for a hundred miles. Ten days afterwards the winter broke up, and water took the place of snow. It is then very difficult to travel. The suddenly melted snow fills the innumerable coulées and creeks to overflowing, and swells them to the magnitude of great rivers. It is difficult to make headway against them, and even the capital native methods of transportation sometimes fail to cope with the wild impetuosity of the freshet. To sum up the winters of the Northwest, upon the whole, are agreeable, and singularly steady. The moccasin is dry and comfortable throughout, and no thaw, strictly speaking, takes place until spring, no matter how mild the weather may be. The snow, though shallow, wears well, and differs greatly from eastern snow. Its flake is dry and hard, and, in its gritty consistence, resembles white, slippery sand more than anything else. Generally speaking, the further west the shallower the snow, and this rule obtains even into the heart of the Rocky Mountains. In south-western Ontario the winter is milder, no doubt, than at Red River; but the soil of the North-west beats the soil of Ontario out of comparison, and, after all, who would care to exchange the crisp, sparkling, exhilarating winter of Manitoba for the slush and mud and rawness of Essex? And as for the Ottawa Valley, where, compared with the North-west, there is simply no land at all, and where the snow often lies four or five feet deep on a level, he would be a madman to do so. As for the summer of the North-west nothing more need be said; there is nothing to surpass it in America. In another paper I hope to deal with the resources and productions of this great region. SONNET. From "SPRING WILD FLOWERS ;" A Volume of Foems, by Professor Daniel Wilson, LL.D., University College, Toronto. I STOOD upon the world's thronged thoroughfare, And saw her crowds pass by in eager chase Of bubbles glistening in the morning rays; While overhead, methought God's angels were They heedless crowded on in folly's race. With heavenward gaze, to aspire for treasures there, Through whom the soul shone, as the body were Waiting till God's own hand shall it uncover. LOST AND WON: A STORY OF CANADIAN LIFE. By the author of "For King and Country." CHAPTER XVI. SUGARING OFF." "Do you think, because you fail me, And draw back your hand to-day, That, from out the heart I gave you, My strong love can fade away?" NEX EXT day Alan contented himself with paying a few friendly New Year's visits in Mapleford, not caring to venture to the Mill at the risk of finding Mr. Sharpley established there. The day following that he must return to Carrington. As before, he walked on before the stage, accompanied by Ponto, along the now comparatively welltracked road, though the walking was here and there rather heavy. He had a good half-hour to spend with Lottie, who was unusually conciliatory, as she always was when she had treated him particularly ill. When he gently reproached her for so neglecting him for Mr. Sharpley on the night of the party, she only said, with a little toss of her pretty head, that, if Mr. Sharpley chose to be attentive she could not help it, and he was a much greater stranger than Alan, so, of course, she had to be civil to him. And Alan was very will ing to take the best view of the matter and to tax himself with being exacting, nor did he wish to waste his last precious minutes in reproaches; so Lottie and he parted on as good terms as ever, she announcing to him that she was coming into Carrington in February, to stay with Kate Lindsay after her marriage. Alan did not say this time that he would rather it had been with some one else. He felt glad that she was coming on any terms. Alan felt pretty home-sick when he got back to his lonely lodging. But work has a wonderful effect, and in his daily work and his studies, and his walks and talks with Philip Dunbar, with now and then an afternoon's skating on the "rink"-which was only a circumscribed space laboriously kept free from snow,-the long cold January wore away. At the "rink" he generally encountered little Pauline Arnold. He and Ben she were growing great friends, and she would often catechise him about his name and his family, and get him to tell her stories about what he and his brothers and sister used to do when they were children. had gone off on one of his wandering expeditions, probably to join some of his people in deer-hunting; but Alan knew that when he was tired of it he would return. Near the end of January Kate Lindsay's marriage took place, and Lottie wrote to Alan an unusually extensive epistle, describing its grandeur, she herself being first bridesmaid. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall went on the usual "wedding trip," of about a week's duration, and then Lottie arrived to be with her friend in her new house during the season of receiving and returning wedding calls. It need hardly be said that Mr. Sharpley managed to obtain early intelligence of Lottie's presence in Carrington, and that he was one of Mrs. Marshall's earliest visitors, a circumstance due much more to his knowledge of her visitor's arrival than to his regard for his "friend Mr. Marshall." Alan found him there when he called, and could hardly get a word with Lottie apart, so steadily did Mr. Sharpley maintain his position near her. And in fact he was obliged to leave Mr. Sharpley behind when, after making a tolerably long visit, he felt it time to go. Mr. Sharpley had established himself on a comfortable footing of intimacy which could disregard formalities, and with which neither the bride nor her friend seemed at all displeased. And so it went on through the whole of Lottie's visit. If Alan joined Lottie and her friend for a walk, Mr. Sharpley was almost sure to attach himself to the party before the walk was over; if Alan went to Mrs. Marshall's to spend an evening in Lottie's society, he was compelled to endure Mr. Sharpley's also; worst of all was the intimate, confidential tone which that gentleman assumed, and which Lottie was very far from seeming to repel. On fine afternoons Mrs. Marshall and Lottie would go to visit the rink, not to skate, for neither possessed that accomplishment, but only to look on the animated scene. Mr. Sharpley, who at other times used to skate a little, lost on these occasions all his taste for the amusement, and mounted guard beside Lottie and her friend, or friends; the little group usually seeming to be provided with plenty of amusement, which sometimes found expression in merriment that was a little too loud and noisy. Alan used to flit backwards and forwards in an undecided manner, skating up to the party and remaining with them till he could no longer stand Lottie's flirtation with Sharpley, then gliding off to his friend Mr. Dunbar, who, a far from uninterested spectator, was watching the progress of affairs, and anon returning again to Lottie as if impelled by some irresistible fascination. "Just like a moth round a candle," Mr. Dunbar said within himself as he looked on. of Lottie, poor Alan was kept in a constant fever of anxiety and worry. It was well for him that he had to go off on a business expedition with Mr. George Arnold, to see and value some timber which the firm proposed to buy, and so missed the latter part of Lottie's visit, and the large party that Mrs. Marshall gave for her as soon as she was in a position to do so by having been invited to a number of places herself. The party was not one that Alan would have cared for, being chiefly composed of people like the McCallums, who, though wealthy, possessed but little cultivation or refinement; and Mr. Dunbar's society had made him rather quick to see such deficiencies in any one, that is, except Lottie. While if he had not gone to the party, to be made miserable by seeing Mr. Sharpley's conspicuous attentions, he would have made himself hardly less miserable by imagining them at home. But the long journey he was obliged to take by sleigh through a wild tract of country, and the excitement of various little adventures, such as meeting a bear which Alan brought down with his rifle, after George Arnold had tried and failed, served as a wholesome distraction to the morbid state of mind that had In fact it was evident, even to less inter- been growing upon him; and when he reested eyes than Alan's, that Mr. Sharpley turned Lottie had gone home, having been was "going in" pretty strongly, as his somewhat hastily recalled by a temporary friends said, for Miss Lottie Ward, but indisposition of her mother. It was at once whether it was with ultimately serious in- a disappointment and a relief to find her tentions, or merely as a flirtation, it was gone. She was removed from Mr. Sharpley's not so easy to discover. As for Lottie, As for Lottie, daily society now, and for himself, he hoped while she received Mr. Sharpley's attentions to see her on his visit home at Easter, when with apparent pleasure, she was by no means he would have a day or two of holidays. inclined to tolerate any neglect of Alan's, Easter came early that year, but early as it and was, or appeared to be, absurdly jealous was, the winter was already breaking up, and one day when he had skated nearly all the under the influence of a bright March sun afternoon with little Pauline Arnold, not and mild days the snow was going away so fast coming near her till it was almost over. that Alan saw he should have no sleighing Alan kept up his hopes on such symptoms, to go home with. But had the roads been though he often had a hard battle with the ten times as bad, and had he been obliged fears which would take form in spite of him. to walk, Alan would have gone nevertheless. But he persuaded himself that Lottie was only It was splendid sugar-making weathercoquetting with Sharpley-it was her nature bright, warm sunny days, and frosty nights. to do that—and so he could not blame her, Alan knew how the sap would be running and it was very natural for a girl brought from the pierced trees into the wooden sapup in the country to be pleased and flattered buckets in the "maple bush" at Blackwater by such marked attentions. But he could Mill. But he could Mill. He had usually helped them there not believe that they could have the effect of with their sugar-making, for at Braeburn removing her affection from him, although they had not maple trees enough to make between his dislike and jealousy of Sharp- "sugaring" worth while. What pleasant days ley and his natural desire to see all he could he and Lottie had had in that wood, watch |