“Here I am in Red River settlement.  What a paradise of a place it is.  The mud, which is a beautiful dusky red, like the complexion of the Red River belles, does not rise much beyond my knees; and resembling the brown-skinned beauties in more than complexion, it affectionately clings to me, and do what I will, I cannot get rid of it.”

“That is a very flattering description of our Red River young women, I am sure, and from the pen of your great friend’s friend, too.  Now is it not?  But there is more than this,” and he proceeded to read further.

“The other evening they had a pow-wow in the settlement, which they called a dance.  I was invited, and being considered such a great man here, of course—­I do not speak it boastingly—­the hearts of all the tallow-complexioned girls throbbed at a great rate when I entered.”

“Tallow complexioned girls!” reiterated the reader.  “Very complimentary, indeed, on the part of the friend of your greatest friend.”

“Monsieur will either please finish reading his slip, since he wishes to do so, although, for my part, I am not at all interested in it, or put it by.  In any case, I must ask that he will cease addressing me in this insolent tone.”

“Then, since Mademoiselle wills it so, I shall finish the very truthful and complimentary paragraph without further comment.”

“Such a bear garden as that dance was; yet I somewhat enjoyed the languishing glances of the bright-eyed damsels.  But, ugh! the savages never can be made to wash themselves.  When the dance had continued for three or four hours, the dancers began to pair off like pigeons and in each nook you could observe a half-breed and his girl, sometimes the demoiselle nursing her beau with arms about his neck, or vice versa. ...  The women are all slatterns, and as a rule they exhibit about as much morality as is found among the female elk of the prairies.  A white man here who is at all successful in winning female attention, needs but to whistle, or to raise his finger, to have half a dozen of the dusky beauties running after him.  While I write this letter I see two maidens passing under my window.  I no longer take pride or fun in the matter.  To me they have become a nuisance.”

CHAPTER VI.

“Now, Monsieur,” said M. Riel, folding his newspaper slip and putting it back again into his greasy pocket-book, “you well perceive that this Monsieur Mair is not exactly the sort of gentleman who ought to be the recipient of your hospitalities.  I do not say that Monsieur Scott, who went over the little waterfall with your daughter, holds the same opinion respecting us, as as does his friend Monsieur Mair; I only know that upon matters of this kind bosom friends are very apt to be of the same mind.

“Who, let me ask again, has informed the gallant and generous Monsieur that these two young white men are bosom friends?  Monsieur Mair was at this house once, and Monsieur Scott was with him.  I understood that they had only met the day before; and it is only a week ago since Monsieur told me that he had not since seen his new friend.  Monsieur has been sarcastic in his reference to Monsieur Scott, I think without much excuse.”