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Soon the autumn was past, the
most of our wandering people had gone, and we made ready to travel back to
Victoria. Mark, whose wife had died during the epidemic of the previous
spring, left his motherless children with their grandparents and his
brothers, and went with us. He said his heart was sore and he would go with
us in order to be comforted.
Carefully we scouted past
Edmonton, for this was the season of activity for the scalp-taker and
horse-thief, but we reached the older Mission without any mishap. Here we
found everybody busy at the necessary work of preparing for the winter,
which always involved a considerable amount of labor. The usual excitement
over the coming and going of war parties had taken place. Mother and sisters
had spent days and nights in a sort of semi-terror because of the wild
conduct of these people, which even Maskepetoon's strong influence could not
wholly control, though doubtless this grand old man's firm friendship for
the white man, and especially for those of our Mission, was the main reason
that no violence was attempted.
Under such conditions we were
at times glad to see the large camps break up and in sections depart for a
season. The great country around us gave the more turbulent and restless of
these nomads a fine field wherein to work off their surplus energy in war
and hunting. In the management of affairs during the presence of complex
multitudes of wild men at the Mission father was well qualified to act
prudently. He knew when to concede as well as to demand, and thus wisely
never ran the risk of having his authority and influence brought into
question. Moreover, he was a thorough democrat. To him an Indian was as good
as any other man, and was given precisely the same treatment. There was none
of "the inflated, superior style of man" in father's manner to anybody,
either white or red. And this was very soon noticed by these" quick-sighted
students of their fellowmen." He was a friend, and as such he became known
among these western tribes.
Now the keen frosty nights
were with us once more, and time was come for our fresh-meat hunt. In this
we were joined by quite a number of the half-breeds. Our pickets of guards
were more numerous, and larger, and thus one did not come on duty so often,
an appreciable change; for it was dismal work during those long cold nights
moving about the silent camp, keeping vigilant watch and looking with
pardonable longing for the morning.
Our course this time was
south, and on the fourth day out we came upon the buffalo. At once the work
of running, killing, butchering and hauling began. This was my brother
David's first sight of this kind of game, and in the excitement he lost his
hat and had to go the rest of the way bareheaded. But this was a small
matter; many a man under like circumstances has lost his head for the time
being. No wonder David lost his hat. The novelty and intense excitement of
the whole thing and the hunter's rapture in bringing down such noble game
was enough to make one's head too large for an ordinary hat.
Our camp of an evening would
be a strange sight to one unacquainted with life on the plains. The huge
fires, sides of ribs, heads of buffalos, marrow bones, squares of tripe, and
other portions of the carcase, all in various processes of cooking; every
man armed and fully ready for an attack; the guards occasionally coming
within the glare of the camp-fire; horses and cattle closely guarded, and a
constant sense of insecurity evident on every hand; men with guns ready at
hand eating and drinking, or mending harness, moccasins, or carts. After the
evening song and prayer the men stretched themselves to sleep just as they
had hunted and worked during the day. There was no taking off of moccasins
or clothing. If one removed his powder-horn and shot-pouch he fastened both
to his gun, so that with one quick grip he had the whole in his hand and was
ready.
My three years of constant
life of this kind had made me somewhat familiar with it, but to my brother,
fresh from the quiet and security of Ontario, this whole life was a
revelation. Nevertheless by heredity and instinct alike he took to it like a
native.
When Sunday came we had been
two days and a half among the herds and were pretty well loaded, and also
pretty well tired, so that the Sabbath rest was exceedingly welcome.
Breakfast and a. short service, and all who could and were not on duty
slept. In the afternoon strange Indians were sighted by our watchful guards,
and my man Mark threw his lariat over the neck of "Ki-youkenos "—the big
American horse that ran away with Peter in "SADDI.E, SLED AND SNOWSHOE and
before anyone could stop him was away on the jump to reconnoitre more
closely. In the meantime from our camp we could see these strangers
gathering on the summit of a distant hill, and knew from their numbers and
equipment that they were a war party. Mark, with only his lariat for a
bridle, was going nearer to them at every jump. Those of us who knew the
horse felt that there would be no stopping or turning him until he reached
those men; and our hearts were in our mouths, so to speak, as we watched
Mark's progress and realized his peril. We caught up our best horses, and
saddling them as quickly as possible started after him. I well remember how
I felt as with my horse bounding under me I made for that hill. Momentarily
I expected to see the smoke of a flint-lock, and keenly I watched Mark as he
sat on his flying steed, for pull up as he might I knew he could not stop
him. In a few moments he was in the midst of the party, but to our great
relief was given a friendly greeting instead of the fusilade we had feared.
Presently he started to come back, and we pulled up our horses and waited to
hear from him who these were.
When we met Mark told us that
the strangers were plain Crees on the war-path, going into the Blackfoot
country, and though unacquainted with us still they were the allies of our
people. Mark said they were coming down to visit us, so we returned to our
camp. The war party came along in the course of an hour or .so, and
concluded to camp with us for the night, though I am sure no one in our
party gave them a pressing invitation to do this. To be under the necessity
of watching within as well as without your own camp becomes rather tiresome.
We put on double guards that
night, and were relieved when our friends started away bright and early
Monday morning, allowing us to go on with our hunt.
I have seen great numbers of
grey wolves, but never, I think, did I see them more numerous than at this
time. Troops of these native scavengers would hang around our encampment and
prow] very close up during the long night watches. When we were butchering
the animals we had killed, they would form a circle around us, and
impatiently wait until we had our meat loaded into the carts. Then, as we
moved away, they would rush in and scramble and fight for the offal which we
left. Many a wild fight amongst them we witnessed, but as ammunition was
none too plentiful, we seldom shot any.
Their howling, especially at
night, was bloodcurdling and terrifying to the inexperienced. Indeed, one
could not at any time hear their deep, long, mournful notes without a
lonesome and uncanny feeling. There are two distinct kinds of these animals.
The coyote and the big grey wolf belong to the plains and are altogether
different from the timber or wood wolf. The latter can become dangerous,
while the former never seem able to muster enough courage to attack human
beings.
By the middle of the
following week our carts were loaded to their utmost capacity and were
rolling homewards. As the days were short we generally started long before
daylight, and while I have had plenty of this ante-dawn travel I confess I
never relished it. To roll out of your blankets into the keen cold of a
young winter's. morning, and then hastily roll up your bedding, place it in
a cart, then rush out into the dark and catch and bring in the horses or
oxen you drive, and with tingling fingers harness them into the carts
committed to your care; and then as the leading cart begins to signal its
onward move by its own peculiar squeak and squeal, to place your carts where
they belong in the line of march; to come to ponds and creeks covered with
ice as yet not strong enough to bear your weight, and yet through which you
perforce must wade in order to secure the safe crossing of your loads, your
wet moccasins and nether garments stiffening with the intense cold as you
march,—I will say that while I in common with most pioneers in our Canadian
North-West frequently did this, still I am free to admit that I was never in
love with it.
What a big market-square we
have to take our winter's food from—hundreds of miles in length and breadth,
with great widely distant valleys like stalls furnishing us with the food we
seek, the quality of which depends on the skill of the hunter. And right
here my friend Muddy Bull comes in as a reliable guarantor that what we take
home will be first-class. On we roll. Our only delays are breaking axles and
splitting felloes and snapping dowel-pins; but who cares for such trifles as
these while we have the fresh green hides of the buffalos we have killed.
The green hide serves as both wheelwright and blacksmith as it dries upon
the weak portion of our vehicle. And while the kettle boils and the meat is
roasting almost anyone in our party with axe and auger and saw will put a
new axle in working trim. Ah! those were the days wherein to cultivate
self-help and independence. The man who was not capable of this manner of
evolution very soon drifted back into the older countries.
But here is the river and we
are almost home. Fording our stock in the rapids, about half a mile down, we
unload the meat, "pack" it over in a skiff, and taking some carts to pieces
we "pack" them over also in the skiff for use on the north side, leaving the
rest until the ice-bridge forms. Then when all is safe on the stage at home
we feel that unless a crowd of starving Indians come to us, we have our
larder full for some time to come. And this was very satisfactory to us in
those days when we were so far away from any outside help and so dependent
on the movements of buffalo herds and contending tribes of Indians.
Sometimes the buffalo were
far out on the great plains, and inaccessible to us; sometimes hostile
Indians intervened, so that we dare not leave our people or in any way
divide our forces; but the opening of the winter of 1863 found our stage
loaded with prime meat and our party together and in the enjoyment of many
blessings. There generally is in our northern country a short period which
is neither summer nor winter, and if possible all travel ceases for a time.
It would not be prudent to start out with horses, and without snow and ice
dogs are of no use. This time we made use of by making ready for the winter.
Buildings were to be repaired and washed over with white mud, which by the
way is a very good substitute for lime. Hay was to be hauled, fire-wood to
be cut in the log and hauled home, then to be sawed and split for use. In
the meantime, as now there was a permanent settlement, at Victoria, and good
congregations, meetings of various character had to be organized.
Christianity, temperance, education, civilization must be inculcated, and on
all these questions father was thoroughly alive. Then, the snow fell and the
ice made, and with Mark as my companion we began our evangelistic and
missionary trips.
Our first was to Edmonton,
and thence to Pigeon Lake, during which time we tried to preach the Gospel
to white men and Crees and Stonies. Even then it was becoming easier for me
to speak in Cree than in English. My brain and voice functions were almost
in constant use in the former, and but seldom did I require them in the
language wherein I was born. Steadily I was becoming able to give the
glorious Gospel of the Lord Jesus to others in the tongue and idiom of the
language "wherein they were born." |
