Our first interment--Jacob's tragic death--Hostile Flatheads in quest
of horses, scalps and glory--Stonies attacked by a party of
Blackfeet--A hot fusilade--Mark's father is killed--Destitution
prevalent--Hunting lynx--My dogs seized with distemper--All have to
be shot--Another provision hunt organized--Among the buffalo--I
narrowly escape being shot--Heterogeneous character of our
camp--Mutual distrust and dislikes--United by fear of a common
foe--The effects of Christianity.
That autumn one of our best young men, Jacob by name, was killed by
the Flatheads. His friends sent me word that they were bringing the
body into the Mission. We dug our first grave on the hill, and there
in the quiet of this "God's acre" we laid to rest the remains of the
brave young fellow who had died in defence of his people. This was
our first interment, in the fall of 1867, and we came here in the
spring of 1865. This was significant of the migratory character of
the people, as also of the healthfulness of the highland country.
Our Indians had camped about twenty-five miles from the Mission, and
in a comparatively wooded section, where they believed themselves in
large measure exempt from attacks of the plain Indians, and had no
thought of attack by warriors from the Pacific slope. However, as
one told me, they had "felt someone in the vicinity," and were
watching their horses closely, keeping them staked right up to camp
at night.
One of our people, called William One-eye, was on guard when he saw
what he took to be a stranger stooping at the feet of one of the
horses. He approached quietly and spoke to him, as he wanted to make
sure before firing at him. But the fellow answered by shooting at
him, and with so good an aim that the hall grazed William's forehead,
cutting away a tuft of his hair, which was bound with ermine skin,
and stunning him for an instant. Ere he could recover himself the
thief jumped on the horse and dashed away at furious speed.
William soon gave the alarm, but already everybody was stirring
because of the shot, and now it was found that several horses were
gone. The whole camp was aroused and the pursuit became general. It
was in this running fight that Jacob was shot. The Stonies, on their
part, killed two of the Flatheads, bringing in their horses and
saddles, and the ammunition and tent which were packed on these.
The marauders had come hundreds of miles through the mountains on
this quest for horses, scalps and glory, and as the trails were now
becoming clearly defined from almost every direction into our
Mission, it looked as if we might be visited at any time by these
lawless scamps.
Young Jacob came of a large and plucky family, and it was hard work
to restrain these from going on a retaliatory expedition, but the
leaven of Christianity was working sufficiently to keep them in
check. Of this we had ample evidence some six weeks later, when the
same camp of Stonies was attacked by a large war party of Crees, who
said that they mistook them for Blackfeet. But this could hardly be
possible, for the Stonies were having evening worship at the time and
were singing and praying. Mark said this accounted for the small
mortality of their fusilade on the camp, as most of them were low
down on their knees and the balls passed over their heads, which the
holes in their lodges plainly showed.
The Stonies repulsed their foes, and heard them shouting back, "This
was a mistake; we thought you were Blackfeet, our common enemies."
It was only when the Stonies returned to camp they discovered that
their aged patriarch, Mark's father,
"The-man-without-a-hole-in-his-ear," was killed. The old man was on
his knees praying when the ball went right through his vitals.
Evidently he had died without a struggle. Mark said that if they had
known this at the time they could not have spared the Crees, but
coming back to camp and finding that their father had died on his
knees while in the act of prayer, they felt that they must respect
his act and faith and not take revenge. Surely this was strong
evidence of a great change in the feelings of the Indians, bred as
they had been to retaliation and deep hatred of their foes.
All through the autumn we dwelt in the midst of alarms, and it was
not until winter came, with its cold and snow, that we felt in a
measure secure for a time from these wandering parties. On November
25th another little girl came to our humble home, and was given the
name of Ruth.
At this time, what with holding services at home and visiting camps
in our vicinity, attending to the fall and winter fisheries,
providing wood, and hauling hay (for we had secured another cow and a
couple of oxen, and I was keeping a horse in the stable), my time was
fully taken up. In fact I was hard driven, and was very glad when a
sufficiency of fish was stored, so that I could pack my nets and
other fishing paraphernalia away for a few months. Then, as per
instructions from my Chairman, I made a dash for Victoria, spending
two Sabbaths there, and taking Edmonton _en route_ both ways. At
this time I did not dare attempt to preach in English, but felt quite
at home in the Cree.
During the winter of 1867-68, the buffalo still kept far out, and
there was considerable destitution all over the country. Our
storehouse and fish-house were ever and anon called upon to come to
the rescue. We never failed to emphasize the stern necessity of
making provision for the future, but with a people having no abiding
place this was a hard lesson to learn. The rabbits, fortunately,
were more numerous than usual, and with them came the lynx, both
helping out in the preservation of life from actual starvation.
I killed quite a number of lynx that winter, and got many of these on
the ice of the lake. Whenever I saw an object moving on the
snow-covered ice, I concluded it was either a lynx or a wolf, and as
I had an opera glass I could very soon determine which, for the wolf
had a long, bushy tail, and the lynx a very stumpy one--in fact,
hardly any. Therefore, if the object I saw was tailless, I saddled
my horse and rode for him. My dogs would also join the hunt, and
when we came within a half-mile or so, the lynx generally noticed us
and started off with tremendous leaps as if he would leave all
creation behind. His strong feature, however, was in the height
rather than the length of his jumping, and soon his half circles in
the air came to a stop. While I was coming up on the steady jump,
slow and sure, he would crook up his back, straighten up the fur on
it and turn fiercely on me, but a shot from my gun would quickly keel
him over. Later I found that one of my dogs could kill a lynx at one
bite across the small of the back, and then I let him do the killing,
for ammunition was none too plentiful in those days.
I made several trips to Victoria and visited a number of camps, and
in March took my family through to Whitefish Lake by dog-train. When
we reached home, towards the last of the month, winter was breaking;
but what nearly broke our hearts was an epidemic, a sort of
distemper, that took hold of my sleigh-dogs, and one after the other
I had to shoot the poor brutes. They seemed to have a kind of
hydrophobia. They did not attack human beings, but we thought it
best to kill them. I felt the parting with the faithful fellows more
than the loss of their usefulness. A pagan Cree who had come to us
asked permission to skin two of my biggest and swiftest dogs, and I
told him he could. The reader will note this, and see later what his
purpose was.
And now our people were straggling in to the Mission. That spring a
number of mountain Stonies visited us for the first time, and our
week-day and Sabbath services were full of interest. More of our own
people than ever before were desirous of doing some gardening, and we
helped all as far as our means allowed us to do. Moreover, a good
many expressed a desire to accompany us to the plains for an early
summer provision trip, and as we wanted the provisions for the year,
and as this was the very best way to have a number of our people with
us for a time, I arranged for such a trip, to start about the middle
of May.
This time our camp was quite large, numbering about forty lodges, and
we felt quite able to go anywhere on the plains. We followed for the
first hundred and fifty miles our route of the previous summer. We
lived on ducks, rabbits, beaver and a few deer and antelope, until
about thirty miles out from the last point of woods, where we found
our first buffalo, and from thence on until we reached herds of them
we were never without food.
At the spot where we found the first bulls Samson and little William
and myself were of the party, and I came very near being killed. We
had come suddenly upon the animals, and I was crossing in front of
William to higher ground when he, not noticing me, fired at them, and
the ball whizzed right past my ear. I turned and saw that William
was fairly pale with fright. We were too much engaged for words.
"Almost!" he cried, and I answered, "Yes, almost," and we dashed
after the flying bulls. This narrow escape bothered poor William for
some time, and I verily believe had he killed me by accident at that
time Samson would have shot him right then and there, for he was
angry at the other's carelessness, as he termed it.
In our camp at that time we had seven distinct classes of men. There
were mountain Stonies and wood Stonies, plain Crees and wood Crees,
French and Indian mixed bloods, and English and Indian mixed bloods;
myself the only white man in the party. Environment, language and
dialect had each differentiated these people. And now we were,
because of the Gospel and for Christ's sake, seeking to bring them
together. It was serious work at times. They could not possibly see
eye to eye. Old feuds kept stirring their bile. Old memories of
wrongs and slights and bloody scenes were constantly being brought
most vividly before their minds, and my every resource was tried in
quieting and quelling and pacifying them. Even the children partook
of mutual distrust and hatred. We were leagued against the common
enemy; but we might have a row among ourselves at any time, and I was
forever on my guard so as not to intensify or afford any excuse for
what was clearly apparent. In fact I was hoping for signs of the
enemy to help allay this condition for the time being, when sure
enough we began to track fresh camps and hunting parties of the
Blackfeet tribes. As I had thought, this brought our discordant
elements more into line, and we organized and watched and hunted
together under the spur of a common danger.
Of course, our meetings every day and all through Sunday, our
constant uplifting of the Gospel, and its resultant forces, were
telling upon this conglomeration of humanity, but the inbreeding of
centuries is not to be weeded out in a few weeks, nor yet in a few
years. Early in life I was given to learn the lesson of patience.