David and I visit Lac la Biche--High-priced seed wheat--Our party
sets out for Pigeon Lake--Old Joseph--Paul Chian--Samson--Our larder
depleted--We organize a hunt--Precarious living--Old Paul proves
himself a skilful guide--Samson tells of a tragic murder by
Blackfeet--We move cautiously--Broiled owlets as a delicacy--I shoot
an elk--Little Paul's flint-lock hangs fire--Samson's brilliant
hunting feats--Feasting on antlers.
Just before the winter was breaking up, my brother David and myself
made a trip to Lac la Biche to try if we could procure some seed
wheat. The Roman Catholic priest was the only person who had any to
dispose of, and we traded a few bushels from him, giving him pemmican
pound for pound. Very dear wheat that, costing us, independent of
freight, at least ten cents per pound, besides a two hundred mile
tramp to get it. But we needed it, and it was good grain. The
reader will notice that here was wheat grown eight hundred miles west
of the Red River, and one hundred miles north of the North
Saskatchewan!
The spring was now upon us, the Indians were coming in in large
numbers, and the time was at hand for our going back to Pigeon Lake
in accordance with our promise to the Crees and Stonies. Therefore
our small party, consisting of my wife and young child, an elderly
widow and her boy of some seven or eight years, and Mark and myself,
bade the rest of the Mission party good-bye, and crossing the
Saskatchewan just before the ice broke up, turned our faces westward
on the southern trail. As food was limited, and our means of
transport by no means large, we hunted on our way as much as
possible, saving what dried provisions we had for future use. Ducks
and rabbits formed the principal part of our fare. In due time we
were at the end of the cart-road, and then packing the rest of the
way we came to the new Mission, and found some Indians there already
waiting for us.
Among these were old Joseph and Paul Chian, the latter a French
half-breed, but a staunch Protestant. The readers of "SADDLE, SLED
AND SNOWSHOE" will remember Joseph as a consistent Sabbatarian and a
really plucky fellow. Paul but now comes on the scene of our
narrative. He was a true man, and having embraced Christianity and
espoused Protestantism, was invaluable to me. These and others
heartily welcomed us, and our daily meetings were seasons of blessing.
Camp after camp came in, mountain and wood Stonies and Crees--pagans
and Christians--ours was a truly cosmopolitan gathering. Gambling
and conjuring, heathen feasts and our own singing and preaching and
praying were interchanging exercises of day and night. When I was
not holding meetings or attending councils I was hunting or fishing,
or trying to garden; but as to the latter, our means were limited and
seeds few.
Among the wood Crees who came to us for the first time was one called
Samson. He was old Paul's son-in-law, and he and I became fast
friends from the first. There was an instinctive understanding
between us.
By the middle of May our nomadic congregation was scattering to the
four winds. We had done what we could in sowing the seeds of truth
and righteousness, as we understood it, though we were but babes
ourselves in this great matter. All we could do was to leave our
disappearing congregation to the Lord.
In the meantime, as provisions were low, we concluded to pitch away
on a hunting expedition, some six or seven lodges accompanying us on
the trip. In our party were old Paul and Samson. As ours was what
might be called a wood-hunt, it would not be practicable to go in
large parties, for the reason that the food supply would be a
difficulty. Drying some fish to start with, we left the lake and
struck eastward across Battle River, below where our present Mission
is situated. Though we were constantly on guard, day and night, yet
we did not apprehend that the enemy were near, knowing that the
buffalo were far out on the plains and that this was not the usual
season for war parties.
Our living for the first week or two was very precarious. We had
with us my first cow, one I had traded from old Joseph. As there was
no one left at the lake, we had to take her along with us; but as she
gave no milk she was only a care and burden to the party. Rabbits,
ducks, geese, owls, hawks, bear, beaver, badger, porcupine,
skunk--there was certain variety in our bill of fare, but there was
no certain quantity of it. Sometimes we were filled, and oftentimes
we were empty, not knowing when or how we should get our next meal.
Our mode of transport was on horseback or on foot. As yet there were
no cart or waggon roads in or out of the Pigeon Lake country. Old
Paul, who was an invalid and could move only with difficulty because
of some spinal trouble, but who knew that part of the country as
other men knew their quarter-sections, sat on his horse and led the
way. Part of our able-bodied hunters scouted along the line of
march, while the others struck out on either hand in search of game.
Our whole camp, as to food supply, was communistic--we shared alike.
Weather permitting and provisions allowing it, we generally held two
services in the day. In the early morn, while the dew was on the
grass, we sang our hymns and knelt together in prayer. And in the
evening in camp, when the hunters had come in and our horses were
picketed or driven close and hobbled, again we met. I would read a
few verses and comment on them, and with hymn and prayer we closed
the day. And old Paul, life-long warrior and scout and hunter, what
delightful sites he chose for our camp! Security, utility and beauty
were sure to harmonize in his selection. Beside rippling stream or
glistening lakelet, with growing grass and budding flowers and leafy
foliage, with Mother Nature's breath full and fragrant of early
summer, how like hallowed sanctuaries those camping spots were!
Verily God blessed us as we journeyed, and souls were born again.
Samson and I were inseparable in those days. I wanted to be the
friend of all, but I could not help being his friend. We became
brothers in the regular native style, and cemented a bond which
continues unto this day.
Soon after we crossed the Battle River, one beautiful morning, bright
and early, Samson and old Paul's son, whom we called "little Paul,"
and myself left our camp to come slowly on, while we set out on a
scouting and hunting trip in advance. Steadily we jogged over hill
and plain, through a lovely park-like country, Samson quietly
regaling us with hunting and war exploits. On the brow of a mossy
knoll, which still showed the travois markings which proved it to
have been an old Blackfoot trail, Samson paused, and pointing to a
spot just in front of us, said: "Right here one of the bravest of our
men was slain. Crowds were in ambush for him, and, knowing the man,
did not give him the slightest chance to resist. He was a Mountain
Stony and an old friend of mine. He was one of that kind who know no
fear. Men or beasts, it was all the same. Here he died, and the
Blackfeet say that while they killed him he smiled upon them. He was
one of those who listened to the first praying men." As we rode
along past the spot where the brave man had died, one could not help
but grip his gun and keep a sharp look-out, for the same conditions
still governed this whole country.
As we had set out without a mouthful of provision, and now had ridden
some hours, I began to feel hungry. Fortunately about noon we came
athwart an owl's nest, one of the largest kind, and though it was up
in the top of a tall tree, we could see that the owlets were large.
Little Paul climbed the tree and brought them down. There was one
apiece, and in a very little time they were roasting on willow
"broiling sticks" before a quick fire. The birds were fat and juicy,
and most agreeably eased the pangs of hunger, after which we
proceeded with better spirits. Our course was straight out toward
the big plains. We did not see any game, nor did we stop to hunt, as
Samson desired to travel a certain distance in order to determine if
possible the presence or non-presence of hostile camps.
Late in the evening we camped in a secluded spot. Little Paul drew
the load from his flintlock, and putting in small charges of powder
and shot, killed some rabbits, which we roasted for our supper.
Tethering our horses close, little Paul and I stood guard the first
part of the night. After midnight Samson went on guard while we
slept, and with the first peep of day he woke us; but before we were
fairly astir he said, "If we do not meet during the day, we will meet
at this place to-night," and he was away. Little Paul and I saddled
up and started out on our own line. We rode quietly, listening
intently for a shot from Samson's gun. Presently as the sun was
freshly gilding the hills, making millions of crystal dew-drops to
reflect his rays, I caught sight of something over the brow of a
knoll at the edge of some timber. We cautiously scouted for a closer
view, and there before us were two large buck elk feeding on the
browse and leaves.
"Now, John, this is your chance," whispered my companion, and
alighting from our horses we fastened them and crawled towards the
elk. When we could see them plainly, we found that one was much
larger than the other, and little Paul said to me, "You fire at the
big fellow, and I will take the other." We were now at the end of
our cover, and rising up I let drive at the larger of the two. But
when little Paul attempted to shoot, his treacherous old flint-lock
hung fire, and both man and beast had moved before it went off. Both
elk jumped into the thicket, and reloading we rushed in after them.
We soon came upon mine, still standing, but badly hurt. I let him
have another shot, and this finished him. The other was gone on the
jump through the woods.
My companion and I straightened the dead elk for skinning, and then
went for our horses. Having done this we began to skin and cut up
our game, of course keeping watch all the time. Samson's
blood-curdling facts, related so recently, made us more than
ordinarily watchful, for we knew that our three shots fired in quick
succession would be heard a long way in the clear morning air.
[Illustration: "Rising up I let drive at the larger of the two."]
We had scarcely got started at the work of skinning the elk, when the
uneasiness of our horses indicated some movement in sight. We seized
our guns and sprang to see what it was, when to our delight Samson
rode up. "Well, what luck?" he asked. We showed him our "kill," and
told him of the other elk. He said he had killed a large jumping
deer, but that hearing our shots he had galloped to see what was the
matter. "And now I am here," he added, "I will leave my horse with
you and go on the track of the elk." Saying which, away he sprang
into the thicket on the trail of the flying beast.
We were not half through with our task when we heard a shot, and
presently Samson was back with us to report the death of the other
elk. "Now," said he, "the carcase is about half way from here to
where my deer lies. Let us pack this one over to his comrade, and
then have our breakfast, after which we can cache the meat of the
three animals and take the hides and part of the meat and strike back
to camp."
As he was the captain of our hunt this was done. We had breakfast on
elk horn and bits of tripe and the marrow of the shank bones. Then
we made a temporary staging in the shade and packed our meat on it,
taking care to secure it against the tireless wolverine. We also
covered the meat with boughs laden with fresh leaves, and then with a
hide on each saddle and a supply of meat we started back and found
our people camped not far from where we had fared so sumptuously the
day before on broiled owlets.
The next day, while our camp moved steadily out, little Paul led a
party of one from each lodge to bring in the meat from our cache.
Samson went the other way on foot into a dense hill of timber which
was situate west of us, and in the evening after we had camped he
came in with the nose of a moose and some other titbits on his back.
We were now beginning to live! The next day I went with Samson for
the meat of the moose. We found this in a forest on the bank of a
beautiful fresh-water lake. We lunched beside the carcase, and when
we were through our meal Samson said, "You do not need me to take the
meat home. I will take a turn through the timber." The result was
that in the evening he brought in another moose nose, this time that
of a big buck. Both moose and elk were in the season when their
antlers were growing and were covered by a kind of plush or velvet
which was considered very good eating. We would cut the antlers from
the head and throw them into the fire, when the plush would singe off
and each antler point split open in the process of cooking. The
portion which split open, and all the skin covering on the antler,
were thought good food.
It seemed passing strange that the enormous antlers of both moose and
elk should be of but a few months' growth. Nevertheless this was a
fact, as on this trip I saw the horns or antlers in various stages of
growth, and later on in complete condition.