I always enjoyed it, when Angus McBagpipe
would pull into ed behind his team of matched
sled dogs, fresh from his trapline, twice a year.

Angus was one of the best trappers in the
North. His age was legendary. For at least 20
years that I could remember the local Cree had
insisted he was ‘‘over a hundred years old”.

Living as I was, on a very tight missionary’s
budget, I looked forward to the odd hindquarter
of caribou, or moose, that Angus would ask me

if I could "get rid of’ that was sure to follow
his_ arrival, as well as the fresh batch of yarns he
had to tell me, interspersed with tales of his
earlier years up in the Athabasca district,
among the Chipewyans. ; . .

Of Scottish ancestors, born in Quebec, this fine
old trapper was fluent in Eskimo, French,
Chipewyan (Athapaskan), Cree (Algonquin),
Gaelic (“tthat’s all we spoke at home when I was
a wee bairn’”) as well as English, interspersed
with “good Scots” - even though he had never
been across the Atlantic. ; _

Despite his excellent credit rating at the
Hudson's Bay store, his sense of humour and his
command of languages and sled dogs, Angus was

not popular with the other trappers. At first I
thought this was because he never frequented
the pubs nor bothered with the Native girls on the
Flats, Later, I was to learn the reason why.

Trapper Willie White, also known as “Barren
Gi White” because he had lived in the
Barrens so long, and later, shortend to “‘The
Baron” had had an adjoining trapline to Angus.

For years the two had been feuding; each
claiming the other had been stealing from his

OTTAWA Where’s
OFFBEAT Margaret?

by Richard Jackson

OTTAWA,-The lady vanishes ... not quite.
ret Trudeau, missing from. the news

these many days, has resurfaced in London.

For one last time it seems, according to
William Hickey’s veddy veddy “in” chatter
column in the London Daily Express.

Hickey says she’s a bore, and that’s the reason
she hasn't been getting much printer’s ink.

But he salutes her ‘‘one last time, tattling:

“Dropped in on a party given for white-haired .

weirdo Andy Warhol at the Institute on Con-
temporary Arts in the Mall.
“While he stayed in a back room signing
enormous pictures of athletes, the swirling
reception offered the usual selection of familiar..

“Bubbles” Harmsworth, Roddy Llewellyn. But
one lady went almost entirely unnoticed if not
igno

“It was an unusually demure Margaret
Trudeau, wayward, estranged wife of Canadian
Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau.

“(She normally creates such a fuss, as on the
last oceasion when an inebriate spilt some wine
on her and she stormed out despite the poor
chap's protest: ‘I was only telling her about my

“But this time scarcely anyone spoke to her as
she wandered about, and in a way seemed such a
bewildered child, a stranger in the strange land
of the beautiful people.”

That's what they may think in London.

But in Ottawa there are some Liberal insiders
who expect her to slip quietly back into the
family circle when the Prime Minister requires a
mother for those three fetching young sons,
Justin, Sasha and Michel, on those election
platforms in the months ahead.

The two oldest boys, still only six and four,
already are seasoned campaigners.

Justin’s been through it once before.

But more recently, this Spring and Summer,
Papa Pierre has been taking them both along
when he has been making those ‘‘non-political”
public appearances at ball games, folk festivals,
and assorted afternoon gatherings.

Michel, Number Three Son, at three might
seem a shade young for politicking, but he has
made public appearances at special occasions.

-Now if Margaret comes home — she has
hovered on the family fringes since the
estrangement — and there is a reconciliation,
what happy, happy Liberal Party campaigning:

Getting your share of those: Quebec license

plates with Premier Rene Levesque’s separatist-
pired “Je me souviens’” message on them?

‘Je me souviens”’ is supposed to mean not just
“T remember,” but, to hear the separatists, “I
remember the Plains of Abraham and 200 years
of repression, discrimination and injustice.”

But it's the front - not the rear, “Je me
souviens” — plate that’s the real eye-catcher.

You can spot the federalists, separatists, the
Quebec-firsters, and the True Canadians from
their front plates.

The separatists carry front plates emblazoned
with the Fleur de Lis, the blue and white Quebec
flag, and the very odd one, a hand-painted insult
to les ‘‘maudit Anglais.”

The federalists, the Canadians or Canada-
firsters, the The True Believers show the Flag.

The play-it-safers display the Quebec and
Canadians flags together or “Canada- Quebec.”

And che fencesitters show their non-
commitment with the Montreal Canadiens crest,
the Expos emblem, ‘‘Je t’aime ma femme,” the
name of their town, county or auto dealer.

In Ottawa and Cornwall and lesser Eastern
Ontario border points, these plates are becoming
a source of annoyance and friction.

Especially among construction workers on the
Ontario side who are barred from working in
Quebec while literally thousands of Quebeckers
cross the bridges to work in Ontario, .

Boobytra

traps. The animosity between the two grew
steadily worse, as each began to miss food and
supplies from his cabin, and became convinced
the other was toblame. ;
Realizing the whole business was getting out of
hand, and - since both had hot tempers, sooner or
later, someone would get hurt, Angus set out to
visit the Baron at his main cabin, to make peace
and see if somehow they couldn't forget the feud.

Wearing snowshoes and carrying a pack, his
knapsack on his back and hunting rifle slung
over his. shoulder, Angus was nearing the
Baron’s cabin when he saw an immense polar
bear on its hi nd feet, reaching up to get some
fish off the meat cache outside the cabin. Coming
towards him, behind the bear, but not seeing it,
was the Baron - unarmed. Shouting, to warn him
of the bear, Angus raised his rifle to cover the

huge ‘‘Nanook’”’ who had begun to catch scent of

the human and was swivelling his head, in
curiosity.

With an oath, the Baron, thinking Angus was
aiming at him, dashed into the cabin, just as
Angus fired, dropping the magnificent specimen,
in his tracks. .

And, just as the Baron entered his cabin,
Angus heard a second shot, and a loud scream.

Once he had made certain beyond all doubt the
bear was dead, he went to look for ’the Baron’.
The unfortunate trapper was lying dead, in a
pool of his own blood, just inside the door, Wired
above the doorsill, rigged as a booby-trap, was a
hi-power shotgun, triggered to go off by whoever
opened the front door. There could be little

p For A Varmint On The

doubt - the Baron had meant it for Angus!

When Angus broke the news to the community,
remembering the strong feud that had been
going for years, between the two, the story met
with skepticism. - Although completely
exonerated by the authorities, a growing number

ferred to betieve the Baron had died at the
ds of Angus.

With no witnesses, and since Angus preferred
the company of a wife he acquired late in life , to
the boys in the Legion and the crowded pubs, the
more popular story of the Baron’s death made
the rounds every fime a newcomer moved into
the village. ; .

With the Baron no longer running a trapline
next to his, it was to be expected the poaching on
Angus’s line would:have come to a halt. The
catching and killing of a family of wolverine,
during the next ten months almost convinced
Angus the problem would certainly be at an end,
since wolverine have a reputation for devilishly
springing traps and frustrating trappers from
harvesting their furs. But the thefts continued. _

One day, when Angus was in town, he came
over to the Mission to ask me if I could spare a
bucket of water, as the water truck had missed
his cottage. While we were chatting, a local
woman, known as Duckfoot Annie, called by
with some berries to sell. oo

“Look what my boyfriend give me,” said
Annie, and she held up a gold-plated cigarette
case. “It’s worth a thousand dollars, he says’ and
she pointed to a crude engraving of an American
$1,000 bill on the back. I noticed Angus’s face
turn pale. “Let me see that,” he snapped, and, in

Trapline

r most alien tohim, grabbed it out of her
hand. Holding it close to his face, he rubbed a
corner, where were engraved the initials,
“w.W.”. “This belonged to Willie White” (the
Baron) he declared, and took off, leaving his pail

water behind. ;

ot No one knows for sure, what happened after
that. But one thing is certain, Three-fingers
Louie, Duckfoot Atinie’s boyfriend, - the one that
gave her the cigarette case, - was never seen
again. + bei

Louie had long had a reputation of being a
poacher. Rumour had had it he had been seen in
the vicinity of Angus and the Baron’s traplines
around the time the two old trappers were
having their feud.

The next Spring, I happened in to the Hudson
Bay post when Angus had just finished selling his
furs, The manager was congratulating him ona
record harvest.

Reaching down into a burlap sack, Angus
pulled out a rolled up raw wolverine pelt. It was
the largest I had ever seen. “Do mea favour,
Andy,’ he said to the post manager, when Duck-
foot Annie comes in, tell her I left this varmint
for her. I caught it raiding my trapline. And with

left the store.
Pavel, I'll be damned” said Andy, to me,
scratching his head. ‘What do you think of that?
I've never known that tight old Scot to give
anyone a dime. That skin must be worth fifty
bucks, untanned! I wonder whatever got into the
old beggar. He must be going daft.”

But I didn’t think so, then - and I don’t now.

In Quebec |
Funerals Cost Bereaved

faces ~ Bianca Jagger, David Hockney,"Pat-.-: - ’

By the Editor

Agness Sutton, Cedar-
vale’s grand old lady was in
to visit me last Friday.
Unfortunately I were not in,
at the HERALD office when
she called.

Now I KNOW Mrs, Sutton
is 87 years old, even though
friends of hers keep telling
me she is in her nineties,
When one passes the 80 mark
they usually become ageless.
To others, that is, And Mrs.
Sutton wanted to correct that
attitude that sometimes even
rubs off on us.

She is not as one of our
articles suggested, in her.

nineties. Neither her early

nineties nor her late nineties.
Nor even her mid nineties.
Agnes Sutton is 97, She has
earned every year of it; she
does not want credit for the
years she has yet to come.
she brought the
HERALD proof she is 87. A
whole brown manilla en-
velope full of charming,
irrefutable evidence.

On June 27, 1978 the Kit-
wanga Grade Five class
went to Cedarvale to visit
her on her 87th. birthday.
When they returned to their
school they wrote nates of
appreciation and birthday
congratulations. These were
in the envelope, and these
were incontrovertible.

Along with the letters were
birthday cards from other
well wishers, and one card
by a student, shown above,
Some of the letters were as
follows:

Dear Mrs. Sutton:

Thank you for that good
story you told us, the Grade
Five class. 1 think everybody
liked it and [ hope when I'm
that old I can remember
things that you can now. Sa

. thank you.

Yours truly, Robbie Parfitt.
Dear Mrs. Sutton: —

Thank you for telling us
about Cedarvale. [t was very
exciting. [ felt sorry for
these people. Well, f better
be closing now,

Thank You, Theresa L,
Dear Mrs. Agnes Sutton:
Thank you very much for
telling us about Cedarvale
when you were just a liltle
child. 1 enjoyed it very
much. Happy birthday on

your svthhirthday. Yours

‘you Wei

Happy Birthday Mrs. Sutton, 87 years old

Cedarvale Matriarch Proves Her Age

truly, Pamela Zettergreen.
Dear Mrs. Agnes Sutton:
Thank you for your nice
stories and I really enjoyed
hearing them. It was a
pretty picture of your
wedding day. Have a nice
87th year. Your friend,
Lorraine Noltes.

Dear Mrs. Sutton:

Thank you very much for
letting us hear you talk and

_Sing the song you learned

when you were small.
Happy Birthday on your 67th
Birthday. Here is a poem for
you from me:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You look so pretty with

That gown on you,
Yours truly, Rhonda
Morgan.
Dar Mrs. Sutton:
I enjoyed hearing your
wonderful stories about
everything. Thank you very
much. Yours truly, Gerry
Elsworth.
Dear Mrs. Sutton:
Thank you for the story you
told the Grade Fives. It was
a very good story. I learned
a lot about Cedarvale. [am
plad I live, jin Cedarvale
because someday I wish it
would be lik The olden days.

Yours truly, Fernando
Andrade.
Dear Mrs. Sutton:
[ really enjoyed being with
you I just ioved your song
and your house. I really
enjoyed talking with you.
Your friend, Sonia,
Dear Mrs, Suiton:
Thank you for telling the
Grade five class the old
stories of Cedarvale. It was
really interesting. From
Sharon Hobenshield.
Dear Mrs. Agnes Sutton:
Thank you for letting our
class in your house and
telling u Grins about when
oung.
From*Banig] Mojak.
Dear Mrs. Agnes Sutton: a
Thank you for telling us
about Cedarvale and you
life. It was all very in-
teresting. I wish you a
Happy Birthday. Your
Friend, Thys Jaarsina.
Dear Mrs. Agnes Sutton:
Thank you for telling those
old stories when you were
small.
By Wally Morgan.
And there: was one large

lovely card, inscribed:
(This carving) ‘Presented
to Agnes Sutton for her 197
(87th) Birthday with God's
richest blessing. Barbara,
Bert and Stephen (Little
Chief), Donna and Bill
Bishop, Mike and Joyce
Casorso, Barb and Al Parfitt
and family,”

“The carving is done by
Victor Mowatt and Mrs.
Mowatt is a Frog and sends
her congratulations.”’

With ail this “proof” - how
can anyone now ever doubt
Mrs. Agnes Sutton is, indeed,’
87 years old?

AN EGO IS DEFLATED

By Ron Gadsby

James Cook had been home
only five weeks when the Ad-
miralty asked him to lead an-
other expedition, this time to
circumnavigate the high Ant-
arctic fatitudes.

In 1739 the French explorer

Bouvet had sighted land in the ,

south Atlantic which he had
called Cape Circumcision. He
thought it might be a projec:
tion of the great, mysterious
southern continent und, of
course, this possibility had
whetted the appetites of ex-
plorers ever since. Later it
proved to be an island ynd was
named in his honor, but when
Cook headed south, none
knew for sure.

It was nalural that on such
an expedition a botanist and
his supporting crew should be
included and it was natural.
too, that Joseph Banks who
had proven such a stimulating
influence on the previous
voyage be included. He was
keen to go.

But something had hap-
pened to Banks since his re-
turn to Englund. The adulation
he had received had inflated
his ego to such an extent that
he seemed to feel the expedi-
tion was designed just for him.
When he saw the quarters sup-
plied for him onthe new vessel
he batked. He ordered that acd
ditional accommodation be
added so that his personal
suite of 13 people could travel
in conditions “suitable for a
gentleman”, This cugtired that
anew deek be waded aml the
existing deck lengthened, cua!
Cook allowed (he adterations
to go ahead without comment,
One suspects he hatd ths donpue
buried very deeply ins his
cheek.

When the vessel lett dry-
dock und nioved downsirean
her pilot declired her to be
top-heavy and the most un-
stable ship he had ever saited.
He refused to rig h. rin full sail
for feur of cupsizing.

Cook agreed fulty and: with
the help of the navy's comp-
troller, received permission to
have her stripped buck to her
previous dimensions. This, of
course, had adeleterious effect
on the Banks ego and he with-
drew from the expedition after
receiving a final rebuff fram
the Admirally which said, in
part: “Mr. Bunks seems to con-
sider Ihe ships as fitted out
solely for his use, the whole
undertaking to depend on hint
und his people und himself the
director and conduetar of the
whole. It was at this point
that- Joseph Banks mustered
whut was left of his dignity and
withdrew his participation,

in fairness lo Bunks it should
be added that while he blamed
Cook for his predicament, he
did re-establish a firm friend-
ship with the commander,

Bunks was replaced as offi-
cial naturatist by Johann Rein-
hold Forster, a Prussian Svot.
His son Georg went along as a
natural history draughtsman.

Hi wascin untkely due beeause
whit son Georg wits an amen:

ible person he was much under |

the inflicoee of his hither who
sais loving but, The ofd
Wit was a farmer Lutheran
ministey ands Ciled school
teacher whe seemed to have
suHsth Soke an tis veins. He
Whedl tothe te sce sind that
tuchided the stapes crew wham
he tefl were holies itd wastrels.

Average of $1,000 each

MONTREAL (CP) ~ The
funeral business is alive and
well in Quebec, even (hough
not many people like to talk
about it or even to think
about it.

“Everybody likes to stay
away from death,” says
Gilles Poirier, president of

the 530-member Association vi

of Funeral Directors of the
Province of Quebec.
“Nobody gees with a glad
heart.
“But the funeral business
is a business like any other.”
In an interview this week,

- _ Poirier. estimated. the in-
' " dustry hasan annual tur-

nover of roughly $35 miliion
in Quebec, with about one-
quarter of Canada’s

population.
He based his estimate on

an annual death rate of:

35,000 in Quebee and an
average cost per funeral of
about $1,000.

Poirier painted to several
new trends in the funeral
industry, which he
characterized as generally
‘traditional and conservative.

He said the emergence of
several big chains of funeral
homes anda slow drift away
from small family
operations show thal the
industry is falling under the
same influences as other
types of business.

HAS 53 BRANCHES

The biggest chain in
Canada is Urgel Bourgie
Liee., which has 53 funeral
homes in the Montreal]
region. Ancther big one is
Alfred Dallaire Ltee., with 23
Montreal branches.

Poirier also noted that five
years ago cremation was
used in only about one per
cent of French-Canadiar
funerals, But now it is used
about 15 per cent of thetime,

He attributed the trend to
lower costs and a less stiff
attitude by religious
authorities.

Poirier, vice-president of
Magnus Poirier Inc,, which
has five funeral homes in the

EF General Office - 635-4387
; Circulation - 635-6357

TERRACE/KITIMAT

daily herald

PUBLISHER... Laurie Mallett .
MANAGING ECITOR...Ernest Senior
REPORTERS...Donna Vallieres (Terrace- Thornhill)

KITIMAT OFFICE,..Pat Zelinski - 632-2747
Published every weekday at 3212 Kalum St., Terrace,
B.C. A member of Varified Circulation. Authorized as
second class mait. Registration number 1201. Postage
pald in cash, return postage guaranteed.

“NOTE OF COPYRIGHT

The Herald retains full, coniplete and sole copyright
in any advertisement produced and or any editorial or
Photographic content published In the Herald.
Reproduction Is not permitted without the written
tmission of the Publisher,

Montreal area, defended the
funeral industry agains
accusations from consumer
groups that rates are
exorbitant.

Special facilities have to
be maintained and staf
paid, he said. Customers
demand a variety of ser-

ces.

He said the services his
firm affers at an average
funeral, not including the
casket, cost $850. Caskets,
from the simplest wooden
one to the most ornate
bronze, vary enormously in

price, .

The most . elaborate

‘funeral he offers, featuring a

cortege of flower-adorned
hearses and a large com-
plement of attendants,
comes to $5,000.

OFFERS SPECIAL

One of the cheapest
funerals is Alfred Dallaire
Ltee,’s $99 bargain basement
special, For that price,
human remains will be
picked up anywhere in Mon-
trea] and delivered to the
place of burial or cremation.
The price includes a simple
wooden casket and the
arrangement of formalities,
but not embalming.

Paul-Emile Legare,
president of Alfred Dallaire
Ltee., said Dallaire regards
itself as an innovator, and
also offers a §287 special
which includes embalming,
expastre of the remains, and
four attendants.

Poirier said funerals differ
enormously according to
ethnic origin.

French-Canadians pour
out their grief very quickly,
but don’t prolong the death
ceremony a5 much as
Italians or Portuguese.
French-Canadians tence
more often to buy ornate ~
caskets with bright metallic
surfaces, while  Anglo-
Saxons ga more for very
sober, simple wooden
caskets, Jews, Italians and
Greeks almost never choose
cremation, he said.

Published by
Sterling Publishers