One delay after another with broken machinery, lack of fuel, running ice and what not, required five days more of my time ere I reached Montreal.
I could not be called either officer or spy, yet none the less I did not care to be recognized here in the capacity of one over-curious.

I made up my costume as that of an innocent free trader from the Western fur country of the states, and was able, from my earlier experiences, to answer any questions as to beaver at Fort Hall or buffalo on the Yellowstone or the Red.

Thus I passed freely in and about all the public places of the town, and inspected with a certain personal interest all its points of interest, from the Gray Nunneries to the new cathedrals, the Place d'Armes, the Champ de Mars, the barracks, the vaunted brewery, the historic mountain, and the village lying between the arms of the two rivers--a point where history for a great country had been made, and where history for our own now was planning.
As I moved about from day to day, making such acquaintance as I could, I found in the air a feeling of excitement and expectation.

The hotels, bad as they were, were packed.

The public places were noisy, the private houses crowded.