Enlarging church--Winter camp--How evenings are spent--My
boys--Spring--The first goose, etc.
Some time after this father determined to enlarge the church, and the
Hudson's Bay Company offered to send their carpenters to do the work,
if the missionary and Indians got out the timber and lumber.
The Indians went into this work heartily. The first thing was to
chop and hew the timber and saw-logs, and haul all these to some lake
or river, from which it might be rafted to the Mission.
Some good timber was found on an island in Play-green Lake, about
twenty miles away. To this place we went by dog-train and on
snowshoes, father and the men chopping and hewing the timber, and
myself and my school-boys hauling this out to the shore and piling it
ready for rafting in the summer.
We were several days at this work--men, boys and dogs, all busy as we
could be. The woods fairly rang with chopping and shouting.
An Easterner would hardly credit the strength of a good big train of
dogs, helped by a stout boy.
Then, when the load is out, the return trip is made on the jump,
there being no time lost by the way.
My boys and I had the roads to make, as well as the timber to haul.
Our open camp was a unique sight at night. Big fires stretched along
the centre, a brush floor down both sides, fish thawing, fish
boiling, fish roasting, fish frying.
Our pemmican we saved for breakfast and dinner; it did not require
time to cook. Then fish is more digestible, therefore better for
supper. Men and boys sitting and standing, some cooking, some
mending moccasins, others drying them--all good-natured and happy.
Behind all this, but still in the light of the fire, are the dogs.
These are of all breeds and of all colors; some lounging, some
snarling, some fighting--all waiting, perforce of necessity, for
their supper, which is being thawed at the fire.
After supper the dogs are fed, and then the woods would echo with
hearty singing.
Father was a good singer, and between us we taught these people many
new songs and hymns.
Then father would open their eyes and minds by describing some
Eastern lands and scenes; and thus the shorter evenings of slowly
approaching spring would pass quickly, and all would stretch out to
sleep, for all were tired.
A few weeks after this there was great excitement in the village.
The first goose of the season had been seen. To men who have been
living for the most part on fish during the winter months, the coming
of the geese from the south is a welcome change. Presently from all
over the village the boys are imitating the wild goose's call, and
the old hunters are getting their decoy heads ready. As for the
bodies, they can make them out of logs near or at the place they may
select for a hunting-ground.
Father and I went several times to places near by. We would go
Friday evening and come home Saturday evening. Father was an ardent
sportsman and a good shot.
I will never forget my first goose. I broke his wing, and he came
down on the ice, and started to run out on the lake. I had a
single-barrelled muzzle-loading gun, and I loaded it before starting
after the big fellow. When he saw me coming he spurted, with legs
and wing. He made good time, and I ran and doubled, and after a long
chase came close enough to shoot him again, and stopped him.
The Hudson's Bay factor and clerks went a long distance and were away
some weeks on the goose hunt.