Another visit to Victoria--Fall in with a war party of Kootenays and
Flatheads--Samson and I go moose-hunting--A Sabbath afternoon
experience--A band of moose enjoy Sabbath immunity--I start out to
meet father returning from the East--The glorious Saskatchewan
Valley--Call at Fort Pitt--Equinoctial storms--Entertained by a
French half-breed family--Meet Mr. Hardisty and one of my
sisters--Camp-fire chat--Meeting with father--Rev. Peter Campbell and
others with his party--Father relates his experience in the
East--Rev. Geo. Young sent to Red River Settlement and Rev. E. R.
Young to Norway House.
When we were nicely settled at home I made a hurried trip on
horseback to Victoria, for I knew mother and the rest of our people
would be extremely anxious about us; and it was with joy they met me
as I rode into the older Mission. Father was expected home in
September, and mother said he hoped I would meet him somewhere down
the Saskatchewan with some fresh horses. Here I learned that there
had been considerable fighting on the plains east and south of where
we had been. A number of scalps had been taken on both sides, and
the reports of these encounters had made our people very anxious
about our party.
I spent a Sabbath with the Victoria people, and then made for home.
At Edmonton I lost my horses for a whole day, and did not succeed in
finding them until evening. In the meantime a war party of Southern
Kootenays and Flatheads had come across and spent a few hours at the
fort, where they were on their very good behavior. Had I not been
delayed by the losing of my horses I should have been alone amongst
them that morning, and when I sized the wild fellows up I was
exceedingly thankful that I had been frustrated in my desire to push
on. These strangers went back the same evening, but when I swam my
horses across about sunrise the next morning, and started up the hill
to take the trail for Pigeon Lake, I almost ran into the same war
party. They had gone across my road just as I came up, as I could
tell from the tracks on the grass, on which the dew was still heavy.
I immediately took to cover, and went on the steady gallop, never
stopping except to change horses until I was thirty-five or forty
miles from Edmonton. The greater part of the time I kept away from
the trail, and early in the afternoon was once more at home, having
swam my horses across the big Saskatchewan that morning, and with the
two made the sixty miles in less than three-quarters of a day. This
same war party took a number of horses from a camp of Indians
situated at the time some fifty miles south of us, and I was very
thankful they did not take mine nor yet have a shot at myself.
And now what with hay-making and doctoring and preaching and
teaching, our time went quickly. Soon September was with us, and I
was thinking of starting for Victoria, when Samson came in, and we
went for a moose-hunt. On Saturday afternoon he killed a huge buck
moose, and we camped beside the carcase and spent a very quiet Sunday
in the woods. During the afternoon I took our horses down to a lake
about half a mile from our camp, there being no water nearer, and
while the horses were drinking I sat upon the bank admiring the
scene. The lake before me was several miles long and about half a
mile wide. The banks were quite high and densely covered with forest
trees in the full rich glory of their autumn tints. The day was
calm, and the whole picture was exceedingly beautiful, specially
fitting to the Sabbath evening. My horses, having slaked their
thirst, were lazily browsing on the rushes which grew on the edge of
the water, and I was being lifted up into a higher, purer atmosphere
of experience consistent with my environment, when suddenly my ear
caught the splash of water, and looking across the lake I saw five
moose doing exactly the same as my horses. Having waded out into the
water they were biting at the rushes, and as I watched them one swam
out into the lake straight for me. Soon the whole five were quietly
and gracefully swimming towards me, and I confess that as I watched
those fine big moose coming, I for a moment wished for my gun (which
I had left in camp), and wished, also, that this was any other day
than Sunday. But as all this was of no use, I decided to keep
perfectly still and note how close those moose would come before
detecting my presence. Soon they were touching bottom close to my
horses, and then there was a moment of mutual surprise, as horses and
moose stared at one another. Both, however, again took to nipping
rushes, and by and by the big cow moose which was leading came up the
bank within a few feet of where I was, and shook herself, sprinkling
me copiously with the water from her big sides; another followed, and
then all of them went on into the woods, quietly browsing as they
disappeared from my sight. For them, also, it was the Sabbath day.
Monday we went home, our four horses having all they wanted to carry
in the meat of the one monster moose. The fellow was in such good
condition that I made a big bag of pemmican with his inside fat.
Soon after this I started with my family and two Indian boys for
Victoria. Reaching that point, I took with me the two boys and
started with the three carts and some loose horses to meet father.
Mother had not heard from him since I was last at Victoria, but we
thought he must now be on the north side of the Saskatchewan, between
Carlton and Fort Pitt. Our horses were in good flesh, and this was
hardened on them as we drove early and late down through the northern
slopes of the great Saskatchewan valley, the lovely country which had
so enamored my more youthful senses when first in 1862 I rode through
its rich pastures and over its richer soils. Six years of wider
range and larger view had been mine since then, but now as I ride
over the many leagues my previous judgment is but strengthened. As
we pass Saddle and Egg lakes and cross the Dog Rump, and Moose and
Frog creeks, and wind between and over the Two Hills, and all the
time behold fresh and picturesque landscapes, and note the wealth of
nature's store, self-evident on every hand, my patriotism is enthused
and my faith invigorated. And to one born on the frontier, and
already having witnessed great changes, it is easy to imagine this
easily reclaimed part of our great heritage dotted with prosperous
homes. All day long (and somehow those autumn days were
unsurpassable in the combination of their glorious make-up) as I rode
on in advance of my boys and carts, I was locating homes, and
selecting sites for village corners, and erecting school-houses and
lifting church spires, and engineering railway routes, and hoping I
might live to see some of this come to pass, for come it would.
While my boys went straight on I rode in to Fort Pitt, hoping that I
might find word of father's coming up the country, but receiving
none, I spent an hour or two with my friend John Sinclair, who was
for the summer in charge of the fort. Then I rode on fast and
steady, and late in the evening rejoined my boys. On we went,
leaving Frenchman's Butte far in the rear, across the Red Deer Creek,
past Horse Hill, through Turtle River valley, and across the river,
all the while constantly on the lookout for signs of our friends or
tidings of them.
Mornings and evenings and long nights and many miles came and were
passed, and still no signs. Then the equinoctial storms burst upon
us, with winds from the north and ice-cold rain in torrents. We drew
up our carts in the shelter of bluffs of timber, and hastily covering
them built our fire, and piling on the dry wood became ourselves the
clothes-horses on which to dry our soaked garments. Then when
partially warmed and dried we would resume our journey. And now our
matches were all but run out, and wet and cold we sought shelter
under the lee of a wooded hill, and making cover did what we could to
ensure the success of our last match. But alas! the first scratch
sent the brittle thing into many pieces, and it took time and
preparation to ignite some old cotton with a percussion gun. Hands
were cold and wet and everything was wet, but after what seemed hours
our fire blazed, and all through that long night we kept it blazing
as in turn we gathered wood and piled it on to slowly dry and burn.
And those boys! children of the wood and plain, full of healthy
optimism,
"Theirs not to sulk or sigh,
Theirs to grin, and bear, and fry."
We kept those soaked logs frying until day came, and fortunately for
us the storm stayed and we rolled on in hope. That afternoon we saw
a lodge to one side of our course, and while the boys kept on, I rode
over to it and found a French half-breed and his family, who received
me gladly and treated me as if I was one of their family. They were
on their way from the Red River to Edmonton. They made for me a
pancake, for they had a small quantity of flour. What a treat this
was may be imagined when it is considered that I had not tasted bread
for months.
They gave me a bunch of matches, and, better still, they told me that
father was heard from at the South Branch; that in all probability he
would now be this side of Fort Carlton. This was something definite
to travel on, and thanking my kind entertainers, I hurried on,
catching up with and passing the boys and carts. That same evening I
met my brother-in-law, Mr. Hardisty, and one of my sisters,
Georgiana, who, unable to stand the damp and cold of Ontario, was
returning to the North-West. With these there were quite a number of
Hudson's Bay Company gentlemen, and the whole party were posting
westward in quick style. They had left father the day before. As my
boys were far behind, I turned back with this company fresh from the
outside world, to glean the news and to visit with my friends. When
we met my boys I sent them on to camp at Bear's Paddling Lake, while
I continued with Hardisty's party, camping with them for the night.
Some of these had been at the Hudson's Bay council at Fort Garry.
Others were returning from furlough in Eastern Canada and the Mother
Country. My sister had spent the winter in Hamilton, and had come
across with father's party from St. Paul. I alone was fresh from the
West and the big plains. Around our campfire until late that night
we exchanged news and related incidents, and before daylight next
morning had breakfasted together and parted. I found my boys
sleeping soundly when I rode in on them at the lake. From there we
went for lunch to the forks of the road in the Thickwood Hills. Here
I pitched camp and, as I was not sure which of these roads father
would come by, I rode rapidly along the old trail, and reaching the
eastern branching of the road, found that my friends had gone the
other trail. Returning on this I came up to where they were
"nooning," and was received by father with open arms. Job and
Joseph, the two Indian boys father had with him, were also delighted,
for I brought them tidings of their friends, and once more they had
someone to talk to in their mother-tongue.
I found that father had with him quite a number of Eastern people.
There were the Rev. Peter Campbell and family, and the two Sniders,
who subsequently became teachers in our Mission schools. There were
also a cousin of mine, John Chantler, and a lad, Enoch Skinner, from
Toronto. Besides those who belonged to the Mission party, there were
three men from Minnesota, a father and his two sons, Barlett by name,
who had accompanied them from the Mississippi to the Saskatchewan;
also two families of Red River settlers, who had taken this
opportunity of travelling in father's train to visit their friends in
the Saskatchewan country, and take part once more in a buffalo hunt.
We moved on almost immediately on my arrival, and camping short of
where I left my boys I galloped ahead and brought them in. I had
ridden in the saddle between ninety and one hundred miles that day,
but so glad was I to meet father and these new friends from the East
that I did not feel the least fatigue. The next day was Saturday,
and by pushing through the Thickwood Hills we camped in the evening
at Bear's Paddling Lake. All day as we travelled father and I rode
in our saddles side by side, as he recounted to me the work of the
year in Eastern Canada. He told me how he had pled with our
missionary authorities until they concluded to establish in the Red
River Valley, and had sent the Rev. George Young to that work, and
the Rev. Egerton R. Young to Norway House. He gave me a description
of the journey by steamer to the Upper Mississippi, and thence by
carts and waggons through the plains of Minnesota and Dakota, and on
into the Selkirk Settlement, where they parted from the Youngs, and,
continuing the journey up the valley of the Assiniboine, had crossed
the divide and the south branch of the great Saskatchewan. "And
now," said he, "I am tired of the long journey, and of handling
tenderfeet, and I purpose to start bright and early Monday morning
for home, leaving the whole company and outfit to your care for the
rest of the trip." I said that I thought I could handle the concern,
and that he was welcome to my horses and one of my boys. I wished
him a quick trip, and having been a sailor in his youth, he answered
me, with a twinkle of his eye, "When I leave you next Monday morning
I will not take a reef in my rigging until with the blessing of
Heaven I reach Victoria."