It is, indeed, the intention of the Northern Pacific Road to construct from the point of junction of the St. Paul and Duluth arms, on the Red River, a branch road, northward to Pembina, and it cannot be long ere it will be continued to Hudson’s Bay.

The trade and travel between British America and the States, overland from the present terminal points of the arms from St. Paul of the N.P.R., is quite considerable, giving constant employment, during the summer and fall, to about one thousand ox-teams.  Goods from all parts of Europe and the States are obliged for the most part to take this route.  The distance overland is about four hundred and fifty miles.  It is a singular and picturesque sight to witness one of these trains, whether coming in or departing.  They sometimes number a hundred teams, though oftener much less.  They are all single ox-teams, the vehicles being two-wheeled.  A convenient sort of harness is used on the oxen, not unlike, in style, that on our truck horses.  One driver—­a half-breed usually—­manages a half-dozen teams by tying the heads of the five to the rear of each cart and then leading the sixth or foremost team by means of a raw-hide rope attached to the animal’s head.  One thousand pounds constitutes a load for a strong ox.  Thus stoves, flour, implements of agriculture, bales of goods, and even boxes of choice wines from France, marked “For the Bishop of Prince Rupert’s Land, via St. Paul, U.S.A.”  Either the body of the church or that of the bishop must be large, judging from the quantity of these wet goods which we saw moving to the frontier.

There is a freshness in Western life that charms one, especially at the first.  New scenes, new faces, new customs, new methods of speech, combine to give a delight to this experience of novelty.  There is a mental exhilaration that tones the mind to a high pitch of enthusiasm and rich enjoyment, just as there is a marvellous quality in the air to brace the system and strengthen the nervous centres.  Who that has gone through this double process of acclimation, as one might call it, does not retain a good impression of their experience in memory, and likewise in physique?

The dialect of the West differs from that of the East in many of the non-essentials, yet, perhaps, enough of variance is observed to make it noticeable and altogether piquant to the wide-awake Yankee, who, in turn, balances the Western “reckoning” by his unique “kalkilations.”  But neither are as absurd as the Cockney, who gets off his ridiculous nonsense, as, for example, the following:  “Ho Lord, help us to take hold of the horns of the haltar,” etc.

The observant mind can, by keeping eyes and ears open, extract much of information and amusement when travelling anywhere—­especially through the West—­where vigorous thought and action are at all times encountered.

CHAPTER XI.

DULUTH.