Notwithstanding that the pack-horse is indispensable, the moment a wide road is driven through the bush, the packer is superseded by his heavier and bulkier rival, the freighter. He is practically the carrier of the wilds. In the past he has been eminently successful in Western Canada. His position has been somewhat autocratic, his charges high, and his work tolerably easy. To-day he is suffering from bitter competition, the day is bard and long, and the prices for the most part rate low, except in the more remote outlying places.

In the good old Canadian days, when animals for haulage were scarce, the demand for waggons was greater than the supply. Accordingly, rising communities in the bush were entirely at the mercy of the freighter, and provisions were forced to famine prices owing to his extortionate methods. It cost more to defray the carriage on articles than their actual value; foodstuffs were from 300 to 500 per cent, above the prevailing prices in the cities.

At that time freight rates ran up to as much as fifteen pence per pound. This seems a prohibitive figure, but there was no method of bringing about a relief. Ao the country became more and more settled, the established freighters found that they were in danger of being undermined by independent units. Enterprising individuals, realizing the high profits to be made out of freighting, unostentatiously acquired a team of horses or oxen and a freight waggon, and, being their own masters, applied for custom by the simple expedient of cutting prices. The established freighters at first were disposed to laugh at this effort to deprive them of their traffic. They had excellent contracts, and the individual freighters were at liberty to pick up what they could here and there, which crumbs were thought to be so scarce as to be insufficient to keep a chipmunk alive.

However, the master freighters received a rude shock as their contracts expired. Their clients displayed no keen desire to renew them on the old terms. B was prepared to carry the goods cheaper, so why could not A ? Once the toppling over of prices commenced, it continued with a run. The number of individual freighters increased alarmingly, until at last freight rates reached a level which was absolutely unremunerative except to the man who only owned a single team and waggon. The freighter who was content to lounge around the saloon, smoking his cigars, while he paid labour to carry out his work disappeared in the upheaval, and his demise passed un mourned.

The competition, however, has not eased in the slightest. The prosperity of the country, the extent of railway building operations, the opening up of new territories, the foundation of new towns at the rate of two or three per week, has developed a healthy, energetic race of teamsters and freighters. Many recall the old times with a sad shake of the head, but they have no time for lamentations, inasmuch as the pace is hot, owing to the more agile, shrewder, and enterprising young men who are entering the field, probably only for a time, to enable them to obtain a financial foothold for other occupations. These tactics, however, shatter the hopes of the old, grizzled, weather-beaten warriors of the up-country road, that good times will come back.

The- freighter’s stock-in-trade is by no means pretentious. A couple of good, strong horses or oxen and a substantial waggon will give him a good start. His capital need not be extensive, as his animals require little fodder during the months when the ground is green. He will require the assistance of another pair of hands, and in order to get the utmost from this system two kindred hard-working spirits will often co-operate. A supply of provisions must be laid in to carry them over their journey, with perhaps a bale or two of hay for their stock in case of emergencies, but that is about all.

The most promising field of activity for general freighting is in the vicinity of railway-building operations, such as, for instance, the cons! ruction of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway. The contractors attack the undertaking from a hundred or so points at once, scattering their camps about two miles apart, and driving the grade right and left from these points simultaneously until the respective links meet and are joined up.

These camps may stretch over a distance of 100 or 150 miles ahead of the end of steel, as the temporary limit of the locomotive’s advance is called. Consequently every ounce of material for feeding and clothing the men, as well as for building the lines, has to be sent in by road.

This is the freighter’s opportunity. A rate is fixed for the conveyance of all material from the end of steel to the camps or building sites ahead. The rate may be so much per load in the case of bulky constructional material like baulks of timber; or with varied assorted articles, such as foodstuffs and other necessities, it is so much per pound, the terms varying according to the distance to be traversed. In one particular case the supplies had to be shipped in by waggon for 107 miles, and the rate was 10 cents, or roughly 5d., per pound. By averaging about fifteen miles per day, the teamster could cover the journey, if the fates were kind, in a week; but then he had an empty jaunt back, so that the fortnight’s expedition was not particularly profitable. Yet by working bard, and keeping on the trail from the first streaks of dawn to the longest shadows of dark, he might scrape out £6 per week, from which he had to deduct his expenses for provisions on the way.

So far as the round trip rate is concerned, this is about equal in its profitable results. A lofty timber trestle was being erected for the railway twenty-two miles beyond the railhead, and all pressure was being centred upon this work, so that it might be completed by the time the nose of steel had crept forward with its locomotive and trains to that point. The timber baulks were massive pieces of lumber cut from the tallest forests of British Columbia, many running up to 60 feet in length. Some of the waggons were able to carry two baulks at a time ; others h&d to be content with one, owing to its length and weight. The price paid for hauling m the load from the end of steel to the site of erection was £3. For this sum the teamster had got to drive forty-four miles, the homeward journey being made empty. If the roads were in a clean condition and the weather kept fine, the round trip could be made under three days, so the freighter could get in two, or at a tight squeeze three, loads per week. One hurtling young teamster supplied me with the information that he was charing up £1 per week clear. This entailed working practically sixteen out of the twenty-four hours, required a first-class assistant, fine powerful horses, a. good waggon, and an aptitude for getting through the mud-holes with which the road abounded.

I had one taste of freighting. Material was being rushed ahead for the Rocky Mountains section of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway. The waggon was a ricketty structure, sitting on four wheels. A couple of excellent horses were hitched to the shafts, and they seemed to possess enough strength to pull the waggon in twain. Still, the fabric kept together, although I have half an impression that this was due to the baulks of timber aboard being lashed, so tightly to the respective axles, that the tatter could not very well fall apart. The teamster was a young fellow from London, who had been associated with the horse-omnibus, or some other duty which brought him into touch with horses, and for which he had received the scarcely handsome salary of some 25s. per week. Realizing that the fate of the metropolitan horse was sealed by the motor vehicle, he had wisely refrained from trying to seek another job in the Great City, and with his little savings he had taken a steerage passage to Canada, and landed with the proverbial immigration allowance in his pocket. lie had drifted farther and farther west, until he had run up against the railway const motion armies. He got a job at once at 8s. a day all found, at freight ing, and soon learned the ropes of the game. His knowledge of horses stood him somewhat in good stead, and the character of the work, affording no time to thirk or to get home-sick, appealed to him. As he tersely put it, “When yer wann’t drivin’ yer was sleepin’, and when yer wasn’t sleepin’ yer was drivin’, and when yer wasn’t doin’ neither, yer was up to the waist in muskeg, givin’ the horses a lift at the wheel with yer shoulder.”

His life was typical of the freighters, whether you find them on the reilw-ay grade, in the east or the west of the country. Sunday was as a blank day. It gave the horses a much needed rest, allowed the teamster to sleep off the balance of hours necessary to keep the human engine going, which he had lost in the previous six days’ toil. The train came in with its letters. He had the only chance in the week to write home, could complete his laundry operations, darn and mend, wash and brush up, and change his underclothing, these latter tanks being intended to last round till the following Sunday, as the clothes were not taken off during the ensuing week. If the waggon required any repairs, this was the time to do it, unless he wanted to lose some precious hours and dollars on the road. By the time these various duties were completed, darkness had fallen, and it was time to turn into the bunk, likewise for the lest occasion until the following Sunday came round, to get another good rest before commencing a grinding week.

By six o’clock on the Monday morning the waggon commenced its rush over the road with a fifty foot stick of timber aboard. But it was not a case of sitting up on the driving-seat with the reins Wangling idly in the hands and the head nodding while the hordes ambled along at a snail’s pace. Every succeeding minute brought a variation ; the development of something unexpected. Constant vigilance was demanded. A moment’s lapse and the wandering mind was brought back to the backwoods by the rear wheel dropping with a wicked lurch and squelch into a four-foot mud-hole, and nearly throwing him over the side to stick upright head-first in the mud.

With a hop he was off the waggon, and the next moment three feet of him were visible above the viscid, evil-looking water. The horses were kicking and plunging, warping the vehicle to and fro, and only causing it to sink deeper. He waded round the almost submerged wheel, summed up the situation in a few seconds, and then waded out of the mud-hole, catching hold of his axe as he passed the waggon. The next minute he was making the white chips fly as he swung his tool with rapidly measured strokes against the trunks of some jack pines by the wayside, pulled them over to the mud-hole, and laid them in front of the stranded wheel. Half an hour sped by in this work, the horses meanwhile standing still. Then, prising his feet against one of the buried logs, he bent his back like a bow, and as he yelled out “Git up!” he pulled desperately at the wheel. It moved slowly but steadily. A tree-log rolled beneath it. Catching something firm to grip, the wheel flew out of the mud-hole, smothering the teamster from head to foot. The horses stampeded out of the morass, and when they regained dry land, stood shivering and snorting after their exertion.

The teamster floundered out in their wake, the mud streaming from his waist in a black trail along the ground. Out came a spanner, and soon the wheel cap was lying on the road, while a bunch of grass was cleaning out the mud from the bearing. A blob of equally black grease was jerked in, the axle cap was replaced, the teamster clambered aboard, and once more was jogging along, the mud on his clothes either drying in the sun or being washed off by the rain, according to the mood of the elements.

Mile after mile this round continued. By keeping a sharp eye on the road surface, some of the obstacles could be avoided. Wherever an innocent puddle of water stretched across the highway, the teamster gave his horses a turn with the rein, and urged them to a spring so as to dash headlong through the bush. The vehicle swept sideways, the heavy load aboard giving the crazy-locking vehicle sufficient impetus to tear up and break off young jack pines, and to carry away scrub by the roots. When the bad spot was passed, the vehicle reeled out on to the road again, and a smart lookout was kept for the next trial. It was of no avail anticipating any particular obstacle, because the unexpected lurked everywhere. The fussing creek appeared as easy to cross a3 a macadam roadway. Only 2 or 3 inches of water babbled over its pebbly bed. With a whoop the waggon went flying down the declivity, all on board stiffening the limbs to secure a firm hold. The horses dropped into the water, and the waggon made a bounce of 2 or 3 feet, coming down with a tremendous crash and a splash. You expected a healthy jar as the wheels hit the bottom and gave a smart rebound, or the collapse of a wheel under the strain; but neither happened. Then you thought the wheels must have struck a cushion, but looking over the side you could just see 3 inches of steel rim gloaming above the churned-up water. Ihe horses kept pulling, and the weight aboard kept the vehicle lumbering forward, so that the efforts of the animals enabled the unwieldy mass to gain the opposite bank. Then it stopped ; on dry land it was true, but stalled as completely as if buried in mud. The acclivity was too steep for the horses. Off jumped the teamster, a coil of rope in his hand. He fixed one end to the front of the vehicle, and climbing up the bank, set rope and tackle to a tree stump in the twinkling of an eye.

“Now then, boys!” We all gripped the end of the rope, the horses were urged to supreme effort, and while they lugged and strained, we stuck our heels into the ground and hauled for all we were worth. It came up inches by inches, a breather being taken with every slight advance, until at last, when on the brow, we yanked her over. The best part of an hour was gone in making 50 yards, and that could not be considered a furious pace.

It was a good opportunity to have a little lunch. The horses were uncoupled and turned adrift in the bush to get something to eat. A firo was lighted quickly, water was soon boiling, and a steaming cup of tea was so irresistibly fascinating, that they break away from civilization for a time, and wander around the scenes of their former struggles fraternizing round the camp fires and exchanging stories with the new men in the fields where they won their spurs.

Yet freighting is not entirely the dog’s life that it seems upon the railway grade. That reveals the calling m its most forceful phase. The other side of the picture is revealed on such journeys as the Peace River trek, the discovery of the gold mines around Porcupine in Ontario, on the Cariboo Road in British Columbia , or way down among the spurs being driven by the Canadian Pacific Railway. As the Grand Trunk Pacific approached New British Columbia’s fertile plateau, settlers rushed into “ The New Garden of Canada ” from all parts. The great highway was from Ashcroft on the Canadian Pacific Railway northwards to a point known as Soda Creek on the Fraser River, or to Quesnel. From the latter point extends an excellent frontier road following the Yukon telegraph line. Soda Creek is the point whence the steamboats run up the Fraser River to Fort George, as well as the higher reaches of the Nechaco and Stuart Rivers. Directly the country was opened, an important town was created at Fort George. Alt hough the nearest railway-station was 318 miles to the south, people rushed northwards by the hundred, many falling foul of the hopeless transportation conections at the time, to return southwards, wiser in knowledge, but poorer in pocket.

Everything from food to clothes, tools to materials, and general supplies, had to be brought up overland, and the result was that no one could live in Fort George unless he had. savings or the means of existence. Flour cost more in Fort George than it did in Dawson City. To transport this commodity from Ashcroft to the budding metropolis cost 2½d. per pound.

This was the round day after day, for six days in the week, with no longer pauses t han were absolutely necessary. When the destination was gained, the weighty baulk was whisked o££ the waggon by a derrick, the teamed head was turned, and all were on back again for another load.

I asked this hustling young Londoner how long lie thought he would keep up this pace?

“Well, I’ll be going out next year. By then I reckon I’ll have got a solid hundred pounds tucked away. I bought this outfit cheap from the fellow I was with. He got sick of the game. I’ll do the same. Or I might take the beasts with me. They are two fine pieces of horseflesh. What’ll I do? Heaven alone knows! But I’ve heard that freighting is good up on the Peace River and mebbee I’ll go up there for a change. I’d like to see that country.”

This is characteristic of the new arrival in the West. He stays at one place until he is tired of the scenery and surroundings, and then hies to pastures new. This is his round of existence. Piajing football with fortune makes a peculiar appeal, and it must be confessed that wandering from pillar to post in this manner, picking up money all the time, offers an excellent education. Sooner or later some place makes a strong call, and there the wanderer settles down permanently, unless the restless feeling revives temporarily, when the appeal is answered and a brief spell is taken in the wilds just for old time’s sake. There are many people in Canada to-day in comfortable circumstances in the cities, having earned a contented position through the gold they struck in the Yukon, or the money they made “mushing” through the wilds. Periodically the old malady grips them, becoming so irresistibly fascinating, that they break away from civilization for a time, and wander around the scenes of their former struggles, fraternizing round the camp fires and exchanging stories wi*h the new men in the fields where they won their spurs.

Yet freighting is not entirely the deg’s life that it seems upon the railway grade. That reveals the calling in its most forceful phase. The ether side of the picture is revealed on such journeys as the Peace River trek, the discovery of the gold mines around Porcupine in Ontario, on the Cariboo Road in British Columbia, or way down among the spurs being driven by the Canadian Pacific Railway. As the Grand Truck Pacific approached New British Columbia’s fertile plateau, settlers rushed into “The New Garden of Canada ” from all parts. The great highway was from Ashcroft on the Canadian Pacific Railway northwards to a point known as Soda Creek on the Fraser River, or to Quesnel. From the latter point extends an excellent frontier road following the Yukon telegraph line. Soda Creek is the point whence the steamboats run up the Fraser River to Fort George, as well as the higher reaches of the Neehaco and Stuart Rivers. Directly the country was opened, an important town was created at Fort George. Although the nearest railway-station was 318 miles to the south, people rushed northwards by the hundred, many sailing foul of the hopeless transportation conditions at the time, to return southwards, wiser in knowledge, but poorer in pocket.

Everything from food to clothes, tools to materials, and general supplies, had to be brought up overland, and the result was that no one could live in Fore George unless he had savings or the means of existence. Flour cost more in Fort George than it did in Dawson City. To transport this commodity from Ashcroft to the budding metropolis cost 2-Jd. per pound. Oi this total the steamboat claimed one penny for the journey between Soda Creek and Fort George, but the freighters on the Cariboo Road received ljd. per pound for carrying goods over 163 miles.

This road is excellently built, and taken on the whole, the freighter life over this highway is attractive and easy. At interval!! of about twenty miles are well-built log houses and stables—stopping-places or bush “hotels”— where an excellent meal can be obtained for 2s. per head, ranging through four or five courses, with bunk sleeping accommodation for the men, and good, stabling for the horses. The day’s journey is on the average from one stopping-place to another. A freighting enterprise in these days which brings in £14 per ton is not to be disdained in Canada, especially under such first-class travelling conditions. The direct route from Ashcroft to Soda Creek, while constituting the channel for the bulk of the traffic, is only one point to which freight is conveyed. The peoples of Quesnel and Barkorrille are entirely dependant upon the freighter for their necessities, and he mulcts them 2d. and 3d. per pound respectively, for the privilege of keeping them alive.

When the New British Columbia boom set in two or three years ago, the freighters who had been lamenting their bad straits in other parts of the country, flocked to Ashcroft. Yet the invasion was not equal to the demand. A £it ring of waggons laden to breaking-point sprawled out over the 163 miles to Soda Creek, and another empty procession was drawn cmt in the reverse direction. The two streams kept in movement like an endless conveyer belt scooping up the loads at Ashcroft, and disgorging them at Soda Creek. They travelled as hard as they could go, end yet the pioneers at Fort George were condemned to short rations at times. The more energetic freighters who had suffered nothing but losses or merely starvation pittances out of their toil for years past in the middle west, made good quickly or the Cariboo Road. They regained a near approach to their old time autocracy and independence, since, when the railway company desired its special requirements to be shipped in for the purpose of building the line through the country, and there was every indication that long and remunerative contracts could be obtained, the freighters resumed their avarieicunness. The general rate must bo maintained, they argued. The railway authorities demurred, and requested special quotations. Seeing that some of the loads ranged individually up to 5 tons or more, but; were capable of being handled easily on the well-built road, the prospect of paying £40 for the transport of one article was somewhat startling. The freighters condescended to carry out the work for £10 per ton, but even this figure did nut appeal to the railway contractors, so the matter was dropped. The requirements for the railway now are being shipped in from the east over the completed line, and transferred direct to steamboats on the Fraser River. The freighters have lost a golden opportunity to reap a rich harvest through their greed, and the result is that within a few months the traffic on the Cariboo Road will dwindle to its straggling stream of five years ago. for freight will be landed in Fort George at £2 per ton by rail and steamer as compared with the rate of £14 now prevailing.

Other younger and more enterprising freighters, realizing the situation, have pushed beyond the Cariboo Road into the heart of the country, and are establishing themselves firmly for the assistance of the incoming settlers, who are certain to flock in when the railway is completed. One trader told me that at the moment he was paying 5½d. per pound for all articles discharged at his shop and brought up from Ashcroft. What this rate means to the buyers, when investing in such necessary articles as sugar, soda, eoap, and so forth, may be easily realized.

Yet, although the freighter is being driven off the great highways of the bush by the railway, the future is by no means gloomy. The energetic have the opportunity to makR good far more easily, quickly, and effectively to-day than yesterday. But they will have to accommodate themselves to the conditions. The Government is driving good roads in all directions to facilitate access to the remote areas. The freighter will have to emerge from his chrysalis state with horse and. waggon into one analogous to the British carrier so familiar in our rural districts. Equipped with motor vehicles so as to cover the ground more quickly, he will constitute an excellent feeder to the. railway with the certainty of not travelling empty on one journey, but laden to his fullest capacity both out and home. The traction freighter has not yet arrived in Canada. His turn is coming, and the men who have sufficient go, a headness to keep pace with the wheels of progress, and who will press the commercial motor into service, arc those who will score success.