Epidemic breaks out among the Indians--Snow-blindness--I take to me a
wife--Our modest dowry--My father officiates as a Stationing
Committee--Fearful mortality among the Indians--Our journey to Pigeon
Lake--The epidemic attacks our camp--A rude hospital--An exciting
buffalo hunt--Chased by a maddened bull--Narrow escape.
At Edmonton we heard an epidemic was raging among the southern
Indians, and that many were dying. As to the nature of the disease
or particulars concerning it we had no information. But even the
rumor of its approach was startling, for in the absence of any
Government or other quarantine regulations and with tribal war
existing this disease would soon cover the whole country with its
ravages. In the meantime, as the season was advancing, we redoubled
our efforts to bring in supplies. To do this we had to travel
largely at night, the March sun making it too warm for our dogs in
the daytime. This night-work with the strong glare of the bright
snow was exceedingly hard on the eyes. Many a poor fellow became
snow-blind, and the pain of this was excruciating. Fortunately for
myself, my eyes were never affected; but it made me feel miserable to
witness so much suffering and be helpless to give relief.
The Indians as a preventive would blacken their faces with charcoal
or damped powder, but as nearly all the natives had dark eyes, they
were most susceptible to snow-blindness. My experience was that
those with lighter colored eyes were generally free from this dreaded
malady.
Old Joseph, Susa and myself made a number of quick trips to and from
different camps during these March days and nights; and about the end
of the month we gave this up for the season. Then it came to pass
that I put into execution a project I had been contemplating for some
time and that was to take unto me a wife. My bride to be was the
daughter of the Rev. H. B. Steinhauer. I had met her in the autumn
of 1862, when I accompanied father on his first visit to Whitefish
Lake. Our acquaintance, which had grown into a courtship on my part,
was now between two and three years old. Our parents willingly gave
us their consent and blessing. Father and Peter accompanied us to
Whitefish Lake, and father married us in the presence of my wife's
parents and people. Our "honeymoon trip" was to drive from Whitefish
Lake to Victoria with dog-train, when the season was breaking up, and
in consequence the trip was a hard one. Then after a short sojourn
at Victoria we set out for the purpose of establishing the new
Mission at Pigeon Lake, father having signified his strong desire
that such should be done, notwithstanding that the Board of Missions
had not as yet either consented to or approved of such a course. But
father was thoroughly impressed with the wisdom and necessity of such
action, and finally told me I ought to go and begin work out there;
and, said he, "You can live where any man can." Of course I was
proud to have father think this of me. His knowledge of the work
required, and his confidence in my ability to do this work, more than
made up to me at the time for the fact that there was not a dollar of
appropriation from the Missionary Society. But father gave us a pair
of four-point Hudson's Bay blankets, two hundred ball and powder, and
some net twine, together with his confidence and blessing; to which
in all things mother said, "Amen."
In the meantime the epidemic we had heard rumors of came to us, and
proved to be a dangerous combination of measles and scarlet fever.
Among the Black feet and the southern tribes hundreds had died, and
already the mortality was large among the northern Crees. From camp
to camp the disease spread. As winter still lingered and the deep
snow was again turning into water on the plains and in the woods,
these lawless, roving people without quarantine protection, lacking
the means of keeping dry or warm, and altogether destitute of
medicine or medical help, became an easy prey to the epidemic.
Already many lodges of sick folk were camped close to the Mission,
and others were coming in every day. Father and mother and Peter had
their hands full in attending to the sick, ministering to the dying,
and burying the dead. And as this was a white man's disease, there
were plenty of the wilder Indians to magnify the wrongs these Indians
were submitting to at the hands of the whites. Some of them were
exceedingly impudent and ugly to deal with; indeed, if it were not
for Maskepetoon and his own people, many a time our Mission party
would have suffered. As it was life was constantly in danger. Men
and women crazed and frenzied because of disease and death were
beside us night and day. Nevertheless father said "Go," and we
started from among such scenes on our journey to Pigeon Lake.
Father had loaned us two oxen and carts for the trip. I had some
eight or ten ponies, about all I had to show for five years' work;
but as I had been helpful to father in educating my brother and
sister in Ontario, I was thankful I had come off as well as I did. A
great part of the way was under water. The streams were full, but on
we rode and rolled and rafted and forded.
Our party consisted of my wife and self, Oliver, a young Indian, Paul
by name, and his wife. Our provisions were buffalo meat, fresh and
dry and in pemmican. We had five bushels of potatoes with us, but
these were saved for the purpose of starting the new Mission. I
purposed having every Indian who might come to me begin a garden, and
these potatoes were for seed, and should not be eaten. Paul and I
supplemented our larders by hunting. Ducks and geese, chickens and
rabbits saved the dried provisions and proved very good fare.
We scouted carefully across and past those paths and roads converging
from the plains and south country to Fort Edmonton. Not until we had
made sure, so far as we could, that the enemy was not just then in
the vicinity, did we venture our party across these highways of the
lawless tribes. Then passing Edmonton we struck out south-westward,
into a country wherein as yet no carts or waggons had ever rolled;
and now it kept Paul and myself busy hunting and clearing the way,
while Oliver and the women brought up the carts and loose horses.
Our progress was slow and tedious, but we were working for the future
as well as the present.
When up here in the winter I concluded that we could on the first
trip with carts take them to within some twenty-five miles of the
lake to which we were going. Working along as best we could,
Saturday night found us at this limit, and as we were very tired, and
the weather was fine, we merely covered our carts, made an open fire
in front, and thus prepared to spend the Sabbath in rest and quiet.
Because of the dense forest and brush we had come through, and also
as we were some thirty miles from Edmonton, we felt comparatively
safe from any war parties of plain Indians that might be roaming the
country, as these men were more or less afraid of the woods. Sunday
was a beautiful day, but towards evening there came a change, and
during the night a furious snowstorm set in. Monday morning there
was nearly a foot of snow, and the storm continued all day and on
into Tuesday night. We kept as quiet as possible under our humble
shelter without fire or any warm food until Wednesday morning, when
the sun came out and the storm was over. Then to our dismay Mrs.
McDougall and Paul's wife were taken with the measles, and sending
Oliver to look after the stock, Paul and I sought the highest ground
in the vicinity, cleared away the snow, cut poles and put up our
leather lodge.
This we floored thickly with brush. Then we laid a brush causeway
from our carts to the lodge, and moved our sick folk into the tent.
In the meantime I had put some dried meat and pounded barley into a
kettle to boil over the fire, and as the only medicine we had was
cayenne pepper, I put some of this into the soup, and this was all we
had for our sick ones. Just then Oliver came in, having found the
stock, but was complaining of a sore back and headache. I gave him a
cup of my hot soup to drink, and as he sat beside the fire warming
his wet feet and limbs and drinking the soup, I saw he was covered
with the measles. So I quietly told him to change his clothes and go
into the tent. Thus in our small party of five three were down with
the epidemic which was now universal in the North-West.
For the next five or six days Paul and I had our hands full to attend
to the sick night and day, to keep up the supply of firewood (for the
nights were cold and we consumed a great amount) and to look after
the stock.
Our patients in the one-roomed buffalo-skin-walled hospital were very
sick, and as we had no medicine to speak of, and nothing in the way
of dainties to tempt their appetite, often caused us extreme anxiety.
Hard grease pemmican, dried meat, or pounded meat and grease are all
right when one is strong and well, but it was more than we could do
to cook or fix these up for sick folk. When we could Paul and I took
it in turn to seek for ducks and chickens to make broth with, but
there were very few of these to be found near to us, and it was not
until the fever abated that, by leaving wood and water ready and
making our patients as comfortable as possible, we went farther
afield for game, and were successful in finding ducks and geese and
the eggs of wild-fowl as our reward.
It was on one of these hunts, and while our sick people were steadily
convalescing, that we came upon the fresh tracks of a buffalo bull.
As we thought he might provide good meat we determined to follow him
up. I think we had kept his track steadily for three hours, when all
of a sudden my sleigh dogs, whom I had left as I thought secure at
camp, came up to us on the jump, and now took the lead on the track,
and very soon were at the bull, as we knew from their furious
barking. We rode as fast as we could in the soft ground and through
the dense bush, and presently galloped out on an old beaver-meadow.
Sure enough the dogs had the bull at bay, and the old fellow as soon
as we came in sight charged straight at us. As there was an opening
into another part of the meadow I thought he was making for that, so
sat my horse, gun in hand, ready to shoot him as he passed. But this
was not in the bull's programme. He was in for a fight, and putting
down his head came right at me. My horse knew what that meant, for
he already had been gored by a mad bull, and the little fellow did
not wait for a second dose, but bounded on as fast as he could. My
gun was a single-barrelled, muzzle-loading shot-gun, and though I had
a ball in, I did not care to risk my one shot under such
circumstances. In fact I very soon had all I could do to sit on my
horse, keep my gun, and save my head from being broken; for in a few
bounds we were across the meadow and into the woods, where, the
ground being soft, my horse was hard pressed by the big fellow, who
was crashing along at his heels. Fortunately "Scarred Thigh," as the
Indians called him, was no ordinary cayuse, but strong and quite
speedy. Yet owing to soft ground and brush the bull seemed to be
gaining on us at several times. Paul afterwards told me he was so
close to me as to raise my pony's tail with his horn, but could not
come nearer to his much desired victims.
I knew that my horse could not, sinking as he was at every jump into
the soft ground, keep this gait up much longer, and because of the
trees and brush I had no chance to shoot back at the bull. I was
momentarily expecting to feel him hoisting us, when I spied a thick
cluster of big poplars just ahead. Now, I thought, if we can dodge
behind these we may gain time on our enemy. So I urged on my noble
beast, and as if to help us, just as I pulled him around the clump of
poplars, a projecting limb knocked my cap off. This falling right in
the face of the bull for the moment blinded him, and with an angry
snort he went thundering past as I pulled behind the trees.
[Illustration: "My cap ... falling right in the face of the bull, for
the moment blinded him."]
"That was close," said Paul, who was following up as fast as his pony
would bring him; "if he had been a bear he would have bitten your
horse, but every time he put his head down to toss you, your horse
left him that much." I jumped from my horse and patted his neck,
rubbed his nose, and felt thankful for our escape. Then we tied our
animals in the shelter of the large trees, and followed after the
bull on foot, for in such ground and such timber we were much safer
on foot than on horseback.
Already our dogs had again brought the bull to bay, as we could hear,
and approaching with caution we soon saw him fighting desperately.
Alert as we were he heard us coming and again charged, but we met him
with two balls, and the old fellow staggered back to the middle of a
swamp of ice and snow-water and fell dead.
"That fellow had a bad heart, or he would not have gone out into the
middle of a pond of water to die," said Paul; and it was cold enough
work skinning and butchering him, with the ice-water up to our knees.
But those were the days when stockings and boots and rubbers were
beyond our reach in more ways than one. However, the meat was good
and a providential supply to us and our sick folk. Moreover, our
dogs needed an extra feed, and they got it.
It was late in the day when two heavily laden horses and two tired
men came in sight of camp, and it was as good medicine to Oliver, who
saw us approaching and noted the fresh meat with a smile all over his
gaunt and pale face, for the disease had wofully thinned the poor
fellow. Only those who have been in such circumstances can truly
appreciate the relief experienced by our sorely-tried party.