Our great camp a study of native types--I attend a "wolf feast"--A
disgusting orgie--Paul and I start for home--Our horses
stampede--Difficult tracking--Enormous herd of buffalo--Home again
and all well--Party of half-breeds from the Red River settlement at
our Mission--Father returns, bringing a brother and sister from
Ontario.
In two or three days our camp grew immensely, and many distinct types
of men were at hand for one to study and become acquainted with. The
absorbing theme was the approaching festival. For this warriors were
preparing, and many devotees were praying; for this every conjurer in
the camp was making medicine, and day and night the tapping of drums
and the intoning of religious songs went on. Morning and evening we
also sang our hymns and held our services, and were ardently studying
this new strange life--every day acquiring a better grip of the
language and beginning to waken up to the largeness of its vocabulary.
One day I was invited to a "wolf feast." Being a learner I went, and
was both shocked and amused at what I saw. About two dozen sat
around in the large buffalo lodge, and before each one a big wooden
dish of thick soup was placed. This soup was made by boiling slices
of fat buffalo meat and wild lily roots together. Neither
Maskepetoon nor myself took part. When each guest was served an old
medicine-man began to chant in an unknown tongue, accompanying
himself by swinging his rattles. By and by all who were to partake
joined in the song of blessing. This over, each one drew his big
bowl to him and at a signal put both hands into the hot soup, and
feeling all through it for chunks of meat, pulled these to pieces and
then began to cram the contents of the dish down his throat. While
doing this, each one made a noise like the growling of a wolf. And
now the race was fast and furious as to who should soonest swallow
all that was given to him. The growling and snarling and gulping was
terrible, and I was glad when it was over and one and another turned
his wooden dish over. I had seen a wolf feast, but, as I told my
friend the old Chief, I did not wish to see another. It was almost
as nauseating as a drunken carousal amongst the cultured white men in
the east! I noticed that it was only a certain class of these pagan
men who thus brutalized themselves--that even in those early days the
larger percentage of the Indians held aloof from such beastly orgies.
Muddy Bull, mine host, laughed when I told him what I had seen, and
said that only a few of his people ever thus disgraced themselves.
While the camp was all excitement in preparation for the annual
festival, word was brought in that the buffalo had gone into the
north between us and the Mission. This made it possible for war
parties to go north also; and from what I heard in camp I began to be
anxious about our folk at home. Finally I conferred with Maskepetoon
and he said that it might be better for me to go in to the Mission.
So I left the oxen and carts with Muddy Bull, held an evening service
with our people, and then as darkness was coming on one night Paul
and I left the large camp and took our course northward.
We went out in the dark because signs of the enemy had been noted,
and as our party was small we did not want to be seen by those
hostile to us. Steadily and in silence we rode, taking a straight
course for Victoria. Some time after midnight we stopped on a hill
to rest our horses. We had one horse packed with dried provisions,
stored in two large saddle-bags, and unpacking and unsaddling I tied
the end of the lariat which was on my horse's neck to these
saddle-bags, and with my gun at hand stretched myself beside them,
while our horses fed around us. The night was very cloudy and dark,
and both Paul and I dozed. Suddenly our horses stampeded and made
back towards the camp. Seizing our guns we ran after them, but when
we could not hear the sound of their hoofs any longer we sat down and
waited for daylight. Whether it was hostiles or wolves or buffalo
which had stampeded our horses we could not tell; there was nothing
to do but wait for daylight, and be ready for anything that might
turn up in the meantime. So we sat in silence and in profound
darkness, for the clouds had thickened. Soon the rain came down, and
in a very short time we were completely drenched. Several times
there were noises near us, but these came from buffalo who were on
the move past. After what appeared an interminable time, morning
broke dark and cloudy, and we began a search for our horses.
As the day grew lighter we found that great herds of buffalo had
passed through the country, and it seemed as if every inch of ground
was tracked up. The grass was cropped close, and for hours we walked
to and fro, never far from where the last sound of our flying steeds
had come. At last I caught sight of a buffalo chip which had been
broken by something dragging over it, and then I found another, and
concluded that my horse was dragging the saddle-bags behind him in
his flight.
I signalled to Paul, and he, after examining this clue, came to the
same conclusion, and slowly we followed this our only sign. Slowly
from one buffalo chip to another we travelled, and when baffled one
would stay with the last trace and the other go on and look for
another, and finding this we continued our anxious search until about
noon, when we came upon all but one of our horses. As my
saddle-horse was still fast to the saddle-bags, the first thing we
did was to take out some dried meat to appease our ravenous
appetites. Then we retraced our way to the place we had stayed
during the night. Finding our outfit intact, we saddled up and
continued our journey, hoping that the one stray horse would be found
later by some friendly hunters. This actually did take place, for
some months later I found the horse at Edmonton, to which place he
had been brought by some French half-breeds who had recognized him.
Now once more we were on our journey north. During the afternoon I
had a revelation given me as to the number and nomadic character of
the buffalo. I had by this time spent three years on the plains in
the buffalo country, had seen great herds of these wild cattle, and
thought I knew something about them. My food had consisted almost
altogether of their meat. My bed, travelling or at home, was over
and under their robes. But that afternoon, as we steadily trotted
northward across country, and ever and anon broke into a canter, I
saw more buffalo than I had ever dreamed of before. The woods and
plains were full of them. During the afternoon we came to a large
round plain, perhaps ten miles across, and as I sat my horse on the
summit of a knoll looking over this plain, it did not seem possible
to pack another buffalo into the space. The whole prairie was one
dense mass, and as Paul and I rode around this large herd I could not
but feel that my ideas concerning buffalo and the capability of this
country to sustain them were very much enlarged. I had in the three
years seen hundreds of thousands of buffalo, had travelled thousands
of miles over new trails, but I had seen only a small number of the
great herds, and but a very small portion of the great North-West.
Truly these were God's cattle upon a thousand hills, and truly this
greater Canada is an immense country.
[Illustration: "I saw more buffalo that I had ever dreamed of
before."]
On we jogged, early and late, watching our horses carefully and
taking extreme precaution against surprise. Nothing, however,
occurred to disturb us, and by the evening of the third day we were
in sight of home, and could see our loved ones moving in and out
around the Mission premises.
Crossing the big river we found all well and delighted to have us
home again. We had been away a little over a month, and as yet there
was no word from father or the east country. Our isolation during
those early years was complete if not "splendid." We were in a big
world, but it was distinct from the ordinary. No mails or telegrams
disturbed its continuous monotony--and yet our life was never really
monotonous. The very bigness of our isolation made the life unique
and strange, and the constant watchfulness against surprise and
danger seemed to give it zest. Then the struggle for food kept us
constantly busy.
One day, shortly after our return, we formed a party and made a
flying horseback visit to the sister Mission at Whitefish Lake, and
came back on the jump; my wife and sister being excellent
horse-women, and a sixty-mile canter a common experience. In our
party we had Mr. George Flett and wife. Mr. Flett at that time was
post-trader for the Hudson's Bay Company. Later on he became a
successful missionary in the Presbyterian Church.
Settling down for a little on our return, we went to work cutting
hay. Those were the days when men swung the scythe, and muscle and
wind told on the unmeasured and unfenced hay-fields of the
Saskatchewan. Hard work it was from early morn until evening; but we
cut a good bit of hay, and had it stacked by the time father came
home.
In the meantime we were surprised and delighted by the arrival of a
colony of some twenty-five or thirty families of English half-breeds,
who had transplanted themselves from the valleys of the Red and
Assiniboine rivers to this of the Saskatchewan. I well remember the
first Sunday service after their arrival, how abashed I felt in the
presence of these people who could speak both English and Cree, and
some of whom had had special advantages in education. But they
listened attentively to my preaching in the mother-tongue, and were
regular in attendance upon all our services. Their presence, too,
made us feel that we were stronger and more able to withstand the
enemy than we had been. Many of these people made good neighbors,
and all were kindly disposed to the Mission and its work.
In the Red River country their bane had been the intoxicating cup.
Here, far from the temptation, they hoped to better their
circumstances. These also were buffalo people, and this was another
consideration leading to their removal west. Immediately these
people went to work to put up houses in the valley to the east of the
Mission. I gave them to understand that the Indians desired the land
to the west. It did us good to see these humble homes being erected
beside us. Mother and wife and sisters all rejoiced that in a
measure our loneliness was past; that a semi-civilization at least
had come to us.
Sometime in August we heard that father and party were not more than
three days away, and with grateful heart I saddled up and set forth
to meet them, which I did about fifty miles down the trail. Father
had with him my brother David and sister Eliza. These we had left in
Ontario five years before, mere boy and girl, but now they had grown
into young manhood and young womanhood, and the long trip across the
plains had done them a vast amount of good. My sister was rather
astonished to meet her eldest brother clad as he was in leather and
with long hair curling on his shoulders, but this was the western
fashion, and anything else would have been singular at that time and
amid those scenes.
Within a couple of days we were once more a united family and
mother's joy was full. I was particularly pleased to note the manner
of both my sister and brother towards my wife. The fact of her being
a native did not in anywise affect the kindliness of their conduct
towards her, for which I was very thankful.