Wahpooskow is certainly a wonderful region for fish, particularly the whitefish and its cousin-german, the tullabee.  They are not got freely in winter in the first lake, but are taken in large numbers in the second, where they throng at that season.  But in the fall the take is very great in both lakes, and stages were seen in all directions where the fish are hung up by their tails, very tempting to the hungry dogs, but beyond their reach until the crows attack them.  The former keep a watchful eye on this process, and when the crows have eaten off the tails, which they invariably attack first, the dogs seize the fish as they drop.  When this performance becomes serious, however, the fish are generally removed to stores.

One night, after an excellent dinner at Mr. Weaver’s, that grateful rarity with us, we adjourned to a ball or “break-down,” given in our honour by the local community.  It took place in a building put up by a Mr. George, an English catechist of the Mission; a solid structure of logs of some length, the roof poles being visible above the peeled beams.  On one of these five or six candles were alight, fastened to it by simply sticking them into some melted tallow.  There were two fiddlers and a crowd of half-breeds, of elders, youths, girls and matrons, the latter squatting on the floor with their babes in moss-bags, dividing the delights of the evening between nursing and dancing, both of which were conducted with the utmost propriety.  Indeed, it was interesting to see so many pretty women and well-behaved men brought together in this out-of-the-world place.  The dances were the customary reels, and, of course, the Red River Jig.  I was sorry, however, to notice a so-called improvement upon this historic dance; that is to say, they doubled the numbers engaged in it, and called it “The Wahpooskow Jig.”  It seemed a dangerous innovation; and the introduction later on of a cotillon with the usual dreary and mechanical calls filled one with additional forebodings.  We almost heard “the first low wash of waves where soon shall flow a human sea.”  But aside from such newfangled features, there was nothing to criticise.  The fiddling was good, and the dancing was good, showing the usual expertness, in which performance the women stooped their shoulders gracefully, and bent their brows modestly upon the floor, whilst the men vied with each other in the admirable and complicated variety of their steps.  In fact, it was an evening very agreeably spent, and not the less so from its primitive environment.  After joining in a reel of eight, we left the scene with reluctance, the memorable Jig suddenly striking on our ears as we wended our way in the darkness to our camp.

As regards farming land in the region, for a long way inland Mr. Weaver and others described it as of the like good quality as at the Mission, but with much muskeg.  It is difficult to estimate the extent of the latter, for, being more noticeable than good land, the tendency is to overestimate.  Its proportion to arable land is generally put at about 50 per cent., which may be over or under the truth, for only actual township or topographic surveys can determine it.