and the Indians, of whom there were about fifteen, dashed off in the
direction of the fort.
These Indians were a very different set of men from those whom I have
already introduced to the reader in a former chapter. There are many
tribes of Indians in the wilderness of Rupert's Land, and some of the
tribes are at constant war with each other. But in order to avoid
confusing the reader, it may be as well to divide the Indian race into
two great classes--namely, those who inhabit the woods, and those who
roam over the plains or prairies. As a general rule, the thick wood
Indians are a more peaceful set of men than the prairie Indians. They
are few in number, and live in a land full of game, where there is far
more than enough of room for all of them. Their mode of travelling in
canoes, and on foot, is slow, so that the different tribes do not often
meet, and they have no occasion to quarrel. They are, for the most
part, a quiet and harmless race of savages, and being very dependent on
the fur-traders for the necessaries of life, they are on their good
behaviour, and seldom do much mischief.
It is very different with the plain Indians. These savages have numbers
of fine horses, and live in a splendid open country, which is
well-stocked with deer and buffaloes, besides other game. They are bold
riders, and scour over the country in all directions, consequently the
different tribes often come across each other when out hunting.
Quarrels and fights are the results, so that these savages are naturally
a fierce and warlike race. They are independent too; for although they
get their guns and ammunition and other necessaries from the traders,
they can manage to live without these things if need be. They can
clothe themselves in the skins of wild animals, and when they lose their
guns, or wet their powder, they can kill game easily with their own bows
and arrows.
It was a band of these fellows that now went galloping towards Fort
Erie, with the long manes and tails of the half-wild horses and the
scalp-locks on their dresses and their own long black hair streaming in
the wind.
Pemberton and his party soon came up with the young Indians who had
remained to chase the buffaloes. He found them sheltered behind a
little mound, making preparations for an immediate attack on the
animals, which, however, were not yet visible to the men from the fort.
"I do believe they've seen buffaloes on the other side of that mound,"
said Pemberton, as he rode forward.
He was right. The Indians, of whom there were six, well mounted and
armed with strong short bows, pointed to the mound, and said that on the
other side of it there were hundreds of buffaloes.
As the animals were so numerous, no objection was made to the
fur-traders joining in the hunt, so in another moment the united party
leaped from their horses and prepared for action. Some wiped out and
carefully loaded their guns, others examined the priming of their
pieces, and chipped the edges off the flints to make sure of their not
missing fire. All looked to the girths of their saddles, and a few
threw off their coats and rolled their shirt-sleeves up to their
shoulders, as if they were going to undertake hard and bloody work.
Mr Pemberton took in hand to look after our friend Heywood; the rest
were well qualified to look after themselves. In five minutes they were
all remounted and rode quietly to the brow of the mound.
Here an interesting sight presented itself. The whole plain was covered
with the huge unwieldy forms of the buffaloes. They were scattered
about, singly and in groups, grazing or playing or lying down, and in
one or two places some of the bulls were engaged in single combat,
pawing the earth, goring each other, and bellowing furiously.
After one look, the hunters dashed down the hill and were in the midst
of the astonished animals almost before they could raise their heads to
look at them. Now commenced a scene which it is not easy to describe
correctly. Each man had selected his own group of animals, so that the
whole party was scattered in a moment.
"Follow me," cried Pemberton to Heywood, "observe what I do, and then go
try it yourself."
The fur-trader galloped at full speed towards a group of buffaloes which
stood right before him, about two hundred yards off. He carried a
single-barrelled gun with a flint lock in his right hand and a bullet in
his mouth, ready to re-load. The buffaloes gazed at him for one moment
in stupid surprise, and then, with a toss of their heads and a whisk of
their tails, they turned and fled. At first they ran with a slow
awkward gait, like pigs; and to one who did not know their powers, it
would seem that the fast-running horses of the two men would quickly
overtake them. But as they warmed to the work their speed increased,
and it required the horses to get up their best paces to overtake them.
After a furious gallop, Pemberton's horse ran close up alongside of a
fine-looking buffalo cow--so close that he could almost touch the side
of the animal with the point of his gun. Dropping the rein, he pointed
the gun without putting it to his shoulder and fired. The ball passed
through the animal's heart, and it dropt like a stone. At the same
moment Pemberton flung his cap on the ground beside it, so that he might
afterwards claim it as his own.
The well-trained horse did not shy at the shot, neither did it check its
pace for a moment, but ran straight on and soon placed its master
alongside of another buffalo cow. In the meantime, Pemberton loaded
like lightning. He let the reins hang loose, knowing that the horse
understood his work, and, seizing the powder-horn at his side with his
right hand, drew the wooden stopper with his teeth, and poured a charge
of powder into his left--guessing the quantity, of course. Pouring this
into the gun he put the muzzle to his mouth, and spat the ball into it,
struck the butt on the pommel of the saddle to send it down, as well as
to drive the powder into the pan, and taking his chance of the gun
priming itself, he aimed as before, and pulled the trigger. The
explosion followed, and a second buffalo lay dead upon the plain, with a
glove beside it to show to whom it belonged.
Scenes similar to this were being enacted all over the plain, with this
difference, that the bad or impatient men sometimes fired too soon and
missed their mark, or by only wounding the animals, infuriated them and
caused them to run faster. One or two ill-trained horses shied when the
guns were fired, and left their riders sprawling on the ground. Others
stumbled into badger-holes and rolled over. The Indians did their work
well. They were used to it, and did not bend their bows until their
horses almost brushed the reeking sides of the huge brutes. Then they
drew to the arrow heads, and, leaning forward, buried the shafts up to
the feathers. The arrow is said to be even more deadly than the bullet.
Already the plain was strewn with dead or dying buffaloes, and the
ground seemed to tremble with the thunder of the tread of the affrighted
animals. Jasper had `dropt' three, and Arrowhead had slain two, yet the
pace did not slacken--still the work of death went on.
Having seen Pemberton shoot another animal, Heywood became fired with a
desire to try his own hand, so he edged away from his companion. Seeing
a very large monstrous-looking buffalo flying away by itself at no great
distance, he turned his horse towards it, grasped his gun, shook the
reins, and gave chase.
Now poor Heywood did not know that the animal he had made up his mind to
kill was a tough old bull; neither did he know that a bull is bad to
eat, and dangerous to follow; and, worse than all, he did not know that
when a bull holds his tail stiff and straight up in the air, it is a
sign that he is in a tremendous rage, and that the wisest thing a man
can do is to let him alone. Heywood, in fact, knew nothing, so he
rushed blindly on his fate. At first the bull did not raise his tail,
but, as the rider drew near, he turned his enormous shaggy head a little
to one side, and looked at him out of the corner of his wicked little
eye. When Heywood came within a few yards and, in attempting to take
aim, fired off his gun by accident straight into the face of the sun,
the tail went up and the bull began to growl. The ferocious aspect of
the creature alarmed the artist, but he had made up his mind to kill it,
so he attempted to re-load, as Pemberton had done. He succeeded, and,
as he was about to turn his attention again to the bull, he observed one
of the men belonging to the fort making towards him. This man saw and
knew the artist's danger, and meant to warn him, but his horse
unfortunately put one of its feet into a hole, and sent him flying head
over heels through the air. Heywood was now so close to the bull that
he had to prepare for another shot.
The horse he rode was a thoroughly good buffalo-runner. It knew the
dangerous character of the bull, if its rider did not, and kept its eye
watchfully upon it. At last the bull lost patience, and, suddenly
wheeling round, dashed at the horse, but the trained animal sprang
nimbly to one side, and got out of the way. Heywood was all but thrown.
He clutched the mane, however, and held on. The bull then continued
its flight.
Determined not to be caught in this way again, the artist seized the
reins, and ran the horse close alongside of the buffalo, whose tail was
now as stiff as a poker. Once more the bull turned suddenly round.
Heywood pulled the reins violently, thus confusing his steed which ran
straight against the buffalo's big hairy forehead. It was stopped as
violently as if it had run against the side of a house. But poor
Heywood was not stopped. He left the saddle like a rocket, flew right
over the bull's back, came down on his face, ploughed up the land with
his nose--and learned a lesson from experience!
Fortunately the spot, on which he fell, happened to be one of those soft
muddy places, in which the buffaloes are fond of rolling their huge
bodies, in the heat of summer, so that, with the exception of a bruised
and dirty face, and badly soiled clothes, the bold artist was none the
worse for his adventure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
WINTER--SLEEPING IN THE SNOW--A NIGHT ALARM.
Summer passed away, autumn passed away, and winter came. So did
Christmas, and so did Jasper's marriage-day.
Now the reader must understand that there is a wonderful difference
between the winter in that part of the North American wilderness called
Rupert's land, and winter in our own happy island.
Winter out there is from six to eight months long. The snow varies from
three to four feet deep, and in many places it drifts to fifteen or
twenty feet deep. The ice on the lakes and rivers is sometimes above
six feet thick; and the salt sea itself, in Hudson's Bay, is frozen over
to a great extent. Nothing like a thaw takes place for many months at a
time, and the frost is so intense that it is a matter of difficulty to
prevent one's-self from being frost-bitten. The whole country, during
these long winter months, appears white, desolate, and silent.
Yet a good many of the birds and animals keep moving about, though most
of them do so at night, and do not often meet the eye of man. The bear
goes to sleep all winter in a hole, but the wolf and the fox prowl about
the woods at night. Ducks, geese, and plover no longer enliven the
marshes with their wild cries; but white grouse, or ptarmigan, fly about
in immense flocks, and arctic hares make many tracks in the deep snow.
Still, these are quiet creatures, and they scarcely break the deep dead
silence of the forests in winter.
At this period the Indian and the fur-trader wrap themselves in warm
dresses of deer-skin, lined with the thickest flannel, and spend their
short days in trapping and shooting. At night the Indian piles logs on
his fire to keep out the frost, and adds to the warmth of his skin-tent
by heaping snow up the outside of it all round. The fur-trader puts
double window-frames and double panes of glass in his windows, puts on
double doors, and heats his rooms with cast-iron stoves.
But do what he will, the fur-trader cannot keep out the cold altogether.
He may heat the stove red-hot if he will, yet the water in the basins
and jugs in the corner of his room will be frozen, and his breath
settles on the window-panes, and freezes there so thickly that it
actually dims the light of the sun. This crust on the windows _inside_
is sometimes an inch thick!
Thermometers in England are usually filled with quicksilver. In
Rupert's Land quicksilver would be frozen half the winter, so spirit of
wine is used instead, because that liquid will not freeze with any
ordinary degree of cold. Here, the thermometer sometimes falls as low
as zero. Out there it does not rise so high as zero during the greater
part of the winter, and it is often as low as twenty, thirty, and even
fifty degrees _below_ zero.
If the wind should blow when the cold is intense, no man dare face it--
he would be certain to be frost-bitten. The parts of the body that are
most easily frozen are the ears, the chin, the cheek-bones, the nose,
the heels, fingers, and toes. The freezing of any part begins with a
pricking sensation. When this occurs at the point of your nose, it is
time to give earnest attention to that feature, else you run the risk of
having it shortened. The best way to recover it is to rub it well, and
to keep carefully away from the fire.
The likest thing to a frost-bite is a burn. In fact, the two things are
almost the same. In both cases the skin or flesh is destroyed, and
becomes a sore. In the one case it is destroyed by fire, in the other
by frost; but in both it is painful and dangerous, according to the
depth of the frost-bite or the burn. Many a poor fellow loses joints of
his toes and fingers--some have even lost their hands and feet by frost.
Many have lost their lives. But the most common loss is the loss of
the skin of the point of the nose, cheek-bones, and chin--a loss which
is indeed painful, but can be replaced by nature in the course of time.
Of course curious appearances are produced by such intense cold. On
going out into the open air, the breath settles on the breast, whiskers,
and eyebrows in the shape of hoar-frost; and men who go out in the
morning for a ramble with black or brown locks, return at night with
what appears to be grey hair--sometimes with icicles hanging about their
faces. Horses and cattle there are seldom without icicles hanging from
their lips and noses in winter.
Poor Mr Pemberton was much troubled in this way. He was a fat and
heavy man, and apt to perspire freely. When he went out to shoot in
winter, the moisture trickled down his face and turned his whiskers into
two little blocks of ice; and he used to be often seen, after a hard
day's walk, sitting for a long time beside the stove, holding his cheeks
to the fire, and gently coaxing the icy blocks to let go their hold!
But for all this, the long winter of those regions is a bright enjoyable
season. The cold is not felt so much as one would expect, because it is
not _damp_, and the weather is usually bright and sunny.
From what I have said, the reader will understand that summer in those
regions is short and very hot; the winter long and very cold. Both
seasons have their own peculiar enjoyments, and, to healthy men, both
are extremely agreeable.
I have said that Jasper's marriage-day had arrived. New Year's Day was
fixed for his union with the fair and gentle Marie. As is usual at this
festive season of the year, it was arranged that a ball should be given
at the fort in the large hall to all the people that chanced to be there
at the time.
Old Laroche had been sent to a small hut a long day's march from the
fort, where he was wont to spend his time in trapping foxes. He was
there alone, so, three days before New Year's Day, Jasper set out with
Arrowhead to visit the old man, and bear him company on his march back
to the fort.
There are no roads in that country. Travellers have to plod through the
wilderness as they best can. It may not have occurred to my reader that
it would be a difficult thing to walk for a day through snow so deep,
that, at every step, the traveller would sink the whole length of his
leg. The truth is, that travelling in Rupert's Land in winter would be
impossible but for a machine which enables men to walk on the surface of
the snow without sinking more than a few inches. This machine is the
snowshoe. Snow-shoes vary in size and form in different parts of the
country, but they are all used for the same purpose. Some are long and
narrow; others are nearly round. They vary in size from three to six
feet in length, and from eight to twenty inches in breadth. They are
extremely light--made of a frame-work of hard wood, and covered with a
network of deer-skin, which, while it prevents the wearer from sinking
more than a few inches, allows any snow that may chance to fall on the
top of the shoe to pass through the netting.
The value of this clumsy looking machine may be imagined, when I say
that men with them will easily walk twenty, thirty, and even forty miles
across a country over which they could not walk three miles without such
helps.
It was a bright, calm, frosty morning when Jasper and his friend set out
on their short journey. The sun shone brilliantly, and the hoar-frost
sparkled on the trees and bushes, causing them to appear as if they had
been covered with millions of diamonds. The breath of the two men came
from their mouths like clouds of steam. Arrowhead wore the round
snow-shoes which go by the name of bear's paws--he preferred these to
any others. Jasper wore the snow-shoes peculiar to the Chipewyan
Indians. They were nearly as long as himself, and turned up at the
point. Both men were dressed alike, in the yellow leathern costume of
winter. The only difference being that Jasper wore a fur cap, while
Arrowhead sported a cloth head-piece that covered his neck and
shoulders, and was ornamented with a pair of horns.
All day the two men plodded steadily over the country. Sometimes they
were toiling through deep snow in wooded places, sinking six or eight
inches in spite of their snow-shoes. At other times they were passing
swiftly over the surface of the open plains, where the snow was beaten
so hard by exposure to the sun and wind that the shoes only just broke
the crust and left their outlines behind.
Then they reached a bend of the river, where they had again to plod
heavily through the woods on its banks, until they came out upon its
frozen surface. Here the snow was so hard, that they took off their
snow-shoes and ran briskly along without them for a long space.
Thus they travelled all day, without one halt, and made such good use of
their time, that they arrived at the log-hut of old Laroche early in the
evening.
"Well met, son-in-law, _that_ _is_ _to_ _be_," cried the stout old man
heartily, as the two hunters made their appearance before the low
door-way of his hut, which was surrounded by trees and almost buried in
snow. "If you had been half an hour later, I would have met you in the
woods."
"How so, father-in-law, _that_ _is_ _to_ _be_," said Jasper, "were ye
goin' out to your traps so late as this?"
"Nay, man, but I was startin' for the fort. It's a long way, as you
know, and my old limbs are not just so supple as yours. I thought I
would travel to-night, and sleep in the woods, so as to be there in good
time to-morrow. But come in, come in, and rest you. I warrant me
you'll not feel inclined for more walkin' to-night."
"Now my name is not Jasper Derry if I enter your hut this night," said
the hunter stoutly. "If I could not turn round and walk straight back
to the fort this night, I would not be worthy of your daughter, old man.
So come along with you. What say you, Arrowhead; shall we go straight
back?"
"Good," answered the Indian.
"Well, well," cried Laroche, laughing, "lead the way, and I will follow
in your footsteps. It becomes young men to beat the track, and old ones
to take it easy."
The three men turned their faces towards Fort Erie, and were soon far
away from the log-hut. They walked steadily and silently along, without
once halting, until the night became so dark that it was difficult to
avoid stumps and bushes. Then they prepared to encamp in the snow.
Now it may seem to many people a very disagreeable idea, that of
sleeping out in snow, but one who has tried it can assure them that it
is not so bad as it seems. No doubt, when Jasper halted in the cold
dark woods, and said, "I think this will be a pretty good place to
sleep," any one unacquainted with the customs of that country would have
thought the man was jesting or mad; for, besides being very dismal, in
consequence of its being pitch dark, it was excessively cold, and snow
was falling steadily and softly on the ground. But Jasper knew what he
was about, and so did the others. Without saying a word, the three men
flung down their bundles of provisions, and each set to work to make the
encampment. Of course they had to work in darkness so thick that even
the white snow could scarcely be seen.
First of all they selected a tree, the branches of which were so thick
and spreading as to form a good shelter from the falling snow. Here
Jasper and Laroche used their snow-shoes as shovels, while Arrowhead
plied his axe and soon cut enough of firewood for the night. He also
cut a large bundle of small branches for bedding. A space of about
twelve feet long, by six broad, was cleared at the foot of the tree in
half an hour. But the snow was so deep that they had to dig down four
feet before they reached the turf. As the snow taken out of the hole
was thrown up all round it, the walls rose to nearly seven feet.
Arrowhead next lighted a roaring fire at one end of this cleared space,
the others strewed the branches over the space in front of it, and
spread their blankets on the top, after which the kettle was put on to
boil, buffalo steaks were stuck up before the fire to roast, and the men
then lay down to rest and smoke, while supper was preparing. The
intense cold prevented the fire from melting the snowy walls of this
encampment, which shone and sparkled in the red blaze like pink marble
studded all over with diamonds, while the spreading branches formed a
ruddy-looking ceiling. When they had finished supper, the heat of the
fire and the heat of their food made the travellers feel quite warm and
comfortable, in spite of John Frost; and when they at last wrapped their
blankets round them and laid their heads together on the branches, they
fell into a sleep more sound and refreshing than they would have enjoyed
had they gone to rest in a warm house upon the best bed in England.
But when the fire went out, about the middle of the night, the cold
became so intense that they were awakened by it, so Jasper rose and blew
up the fire, and the other two sat up and filled their pipes, while
their teeth chattered in their heads. Soon the blaze and the smoke
warmed them, and again they lay down to sleep comfortably till morning.
Before daybreak, however, Arrowhead--who never slept so soundly but that
he could be wakened by the slightest unusual noise--slowly raised his
head and touched Jasper on the shoulder. The hunter was too
well-trained to the dangers of the wilderness to start up or speak. He
uttered no word, but took up his gun softly, and looked in the direction
in which the Indian's eyes gazed. A small red spot in the ashes served
to reveal a pair of glaring eye-balls among the bushes.
"A wolf," whispered Jasper, cocking his gun. "No; a man," said
Arrowhead.
At the sound of the click of the lock the object in the bushes moved.
Jasper leaped up in an instant, pointed his gun, and shouted sternly--
"Stand fast and speak, or I fire!"
At the same moment Arrowhead kicked the logs of the fire, and a bright
flame leapt up, showing that the owner of the pair of eyes was an
Indian. Seeing that he was discovered, and that if he turned to run he
would certainly be shot, the savage came forward sulkily and sat down
beside the fire. Jasper asked him why he came there in that stealthy
manner like a sly fox. The Indian said he was merely travelling by
night, and had come on the camp unexpectedly. Not knowing who was
there, he had come forward with caution.