The Ball--Half-Breed Finery--Voudrie and Zear return to Fort
Garry--Treemiss starts for the Montagne du Bois--Leave Carlton
for Winter Quarters--Shell River--La Belle Prairie--Riviere
Crochet--The Indians of White Fish Lake--Kekekooarsis, or
“Child of the Hawk,” and Keenamontiayoo, or “The Long Neck”--
Their Jollification--Passionate Fondness for Rum--Excitement in
the Camp--Indians flock in to Taste the Fire-water--Sitting out
our Visitors--A Weary Day--Cache the Rum Keg by Night--Retreat
to La Belle Prairie--Site of our House--La Ronde as Architect--
How to Build a Log Hut--The Chimney--A Grand Crash--Our
Dismay--Milton supersedes La Ronde--The Chimney Rises again--
Our Indian Friends--The Frost sets in.
The night after our return to Carlton, a ball was got up by the
half-breeds in honour of our visit. Mr. Lillie gave up his best room
for the purpose, and we provided the refreshment, in the shape of rum;
the expectation that we should do so being no doubt one of the greatest
attractions the entertainment offered. The men appeared in gaudy array,
with beaded firebag, gay sash, blue or scarlet leggings, girt below the
knee with beaded garters, and moccasins elaborately embroidered; the
women in short, bright-coloured skirts, showing the richly-embroidered
leggings, and white moccasins of cariboo-skin, beautifully worked with
flowery patterns in beads, silk, and moose hair. Some of the young
girls were good-looking, but many of them were disfigured by goitre,
which is very prevalent among the half-breeds at all the posts on
the Saskatchewan, although unknown amongst the Indians. Sinclair, who
acted as musician, was kept hard at work, with but short respites for
refreshment, and the revelry continued far into the small hours.
As winter was now close at hand, we hastened our departure for White
Fish Lake. Treemiss had decided to fix his residence at the Montagne
du Bois, or Thickwood Hills, about fifty miles N.W. of Carlton, where
large game was more abundant, and which was nearer to the plains. The
Montagne du Bois had moreover the additional attraction of being the
home of Atahk-akoohp, or “Star of the Blanket,” the most noted hunter
of the district. La Ronde and Bruneau accompanied us, to remain during
the winter; Voudrie and Zear returning to Fort Garry, in charge of the
most valuable horses and our letters for England.
On the 10th of October we transferred horses, carts, and baggage to the
north side of the Saskatchewan, and in the evening bade good-bye to the
people of the Fort, and followed our train, camping for that night on
the bank of the river. Next morning we said adieu to Treemiss, as from
this point our roads diverged.
We were now once more travelling through mixed country. The weather was
still beautifully fine, and during the day pleasantly warm. The nights
began to be very keen, and the lakes were already partly covered with a
thin coating of ice.
The wild-fowl had taken their departure for the south, only a few
stragglers remaining from the later broods. Many of the latter fall
victims to their procrastination, being frequently found frozen fast in
the ice. But this, the Indians assert, takes place in consequence of
their excessive fatness, which renders them unable to rise on the wing,
and they are thus detained behind, to suffer a miserable death.
In four days we arrived at the Shell River, a small tributary of the
Saskatchewan; and here we had all to jump into the stream and assist
in helping the heavily-laden carts down the steep bank, and up the
opposite slope. The water was cold as ice, and we hardly enjoyed our
compulsory bath, but the noonday sun shone warmly, and a rapid walk
soon restored the circulation in our benumbed limbs.
The next day brought us to a lovely little spot, a small prairie of
perhaps 200 acres, surrounded by low wooded hills, and on one side a
lake winding with many an inlet amongst the hills and into the plain,
while here and there a tiny promontory, richly clothed with pines and
aspens, stretched out into the water. The beauty of the place had
struck the rude voyageurs, its only visitors, except the Indians, and
they had named it La Belle Prairie.
As we crossed it, we remarked to one another what a magnificent site
for a house one of the promontories would be, and how happy many a
poor farmer who tilled unkindly soil at home would feel in possession
of the rich land which lay before us. The same day we struck the river
Crochet, a stream of about the same size as Shell River, and assisted
to help the carts across, as we had done at the latter. About half a
mile beyond, we saw two small wooden houses. We encamped in an open
space at a little distance, and then walked up to make the acquaintance
of the occupants. One of the huts had been built by an enterprising
free-trader, Mr. Pruden; the other, at its side, by the Company, in
opposition. Mr. Pruden was at length induced to enter the Company’s
service as Chief Trader at Carlton, and presented his dwelling to two
families of Indians. The Company’s establishment was dismantled, and
remained untenanted. A fishery was still worked occasionally at White
Fish Lake, close by. In the house we found an old Indian engaged in
mending a net, and his squaw squatted by the hearth indulging in a
pipe. They shook hands with us very cordially, La Ronde introducing us
as a great chief and great medicine man, who had travelled far for the
pleasure of making their acquaintance. The old fellow rejoiced in the
name of Kekekooarsis, or “The Child of the Hawk,” in allusion to the
beak-like form of his nose.
We smoked several pipes with him whilst answering the numerous
questions he addressed to us through La Ronde, and were so delighted
with his urbanity, that in a weak moment we promised to make him a
present of a small quantity of rum. Alas! mistaken generosity, fruitful
of anxiety and trouble! The old gentleman became all excitement, said
we were the best fellows he had met for many a day, adding that if
he might venture to offer a suggestion, it would be that we should
fetch the fire-water immediately. We accordingly went back to the
lodge, sent off to him a very small quantity well watered, taking the
precaution to fill a small keg with a weak mixture, and hiding the cask
in the cart.
It does not answer, however, to dilute the spirits too much. It must
be strong enough to be inflammable, for an Indian always tests it by
pouring a few drops into the fire. If it possesses the one property
from which he has given it the name of fire-water, he is satisfied,
whatever its flavour or other qualities may be.
We had hardly covered up the cask, when Kekekooarsis appeared,
accompanied by his squaw, a withered old hag, and Keenamontiayoo, “The
Long Neck,” his son-in-law. The men were already half drunk, singing
away the Indian song without words, and clamorous for more rum. They
produced a number of marten and other skins, and all our explanations
failed to make them understand that we had not come as traders.
After two hours’ continued discussion, we doled out another small
quantity, as the only way to get rid of them. How they chuckled and
hugged the pot! exclaiming, “Tarpwoy! tarpwoy!” (It is true! it is
true!) hardly able to believe the delightful fact. At the first dawn of
day, they entered the lodge again, bringing more furs for sale.
Boys rode off as couriers in all directions to carry the welcome
tidings to their friends in the neighbourhood. Before long men came
galloping up from different quarters, and these were presently followed
by squaws and children, all eager to taste the pleasure-giving
fire-water, and our lodge was soon crowded with importunate guests.
To end the matter, we sent them off with what remained in the little
keg, all they actually knew that we possessed, for we had kept the
cask in the cart hidden securely out of their sight. In about two
hours all returned, more or less intoxicated and the infernal clamour
re-commenced with tenfold importunity. First one fellow thrust a
marten skin into our hands, another two or three fish, while a third,
attempting to strip off his shirt for sale, fell senseless into the
arms of his squaw. The demand was the same with all, and incessant:
“Isquitayoo arpway! isquitayoo arpway!” (Fire-water! fire-water!) Hour
after hour we sat smoking our pipes with an air of unconcern we did not
feel, and refusing all requests. Afternoon came, and the scene still
continued. We dared not leave the lodge, lest they should search the
carts and discover our store.
Wearily passed the time till darkness came on, and still the crowd
sat round, and still the same request was dinned into our ears. But
we were thoroughly determined not to give way, and at last they began
to conclude we were inexorable, and dropped off one by one, immensely
disgusted with our meanness. In the dead of night we stealthily arose,
and La Ronde went out to reconnoitre the position of the Indians. None
were near, and all was perfectly still. We now proceeded, with the
greatest caution, to remove the cask from its hiding-place, and La
Ronde and Bruneau went off to cache it safely at some distance. They
returned before daylight, very cold and wet, having crossed the river,
and deposited the cause of our troubles in the bush some miles away.
In the morning Keenamontiayoo came to our lodge, but did not renew his
importunities. Our firmness the day before had produced a most salutary
effect. We were, however, so much disgusted with our experience of
the last two days, that we resolved to give up the idea of fixing our
winter residence here, and retreat to La Belle Prairie, putting a
distance of nine or ten miles between our troublesome neighbours and
ourselves.
[Illustration: OUR WINTER HUT.--LA BELLE PRAIRIE.
(_See page 76._)
]
We retraced our steps accordingly the next day, and set up our lodge
on the banks of the lake of the Beautiful Prairie. The site selected
for our dwelling was the middle of the wooded promontory which had
before attracted our admiration. As it was now the end of October, it
was necessary to use all speed in putting up a house, lest the winter
should set in before our work was completed. And, moreover, we were
obliged, for the same reason, to be content with a building of very
small size, and the simplest construction. La Ronde acted as architect,
and proceeded to work in the following manner.
A rude enclosure, fifteen feet by thirteen, was first made of rough
poplar logs, morticed together at the corners of the building. The
logs, however, did not by any means lie in apposition, and the spaces
between them would admit of a hand being passed through. As yet there
was neither door, window, nor roof, and the walls were but six feet
high in front, and little over five feet behind. These deficiencies
were, however, soon supplied by the ingenious La Ronde, in a much
simpler fashion than we had suspected. A doorway and window was hewn
through the solid walls; a door constructed of boards from the carts;
whilst a piece of parchment supplied the place of window-glass. The
roof was covered in by straight poles of young, dry pines, and over
this was a thatch of marsh grass, weighted down by loose earth thrown
over. The lowness of the building, externally, was remedied inside
by digging out the ground two feet, rendering the building very much
warmer. The interstices between the logs were filled up with mud,
mixed with chopped grass, to give it tenacity. But we had still the
most important and difficult work of all--to build the chimney.
For a long time we were unable to discover any clay wherewith to
cement the boulders of which a chimney is constructed in backwood
fashion, and began to be seriously afraid that the strong frost would
commence before our fire-place was ready. This would, of course, have
been exceedingly awkward, for it was difficult enough to work with
untempered mortar, and if it were frozen, building would obviously be
out of the question.
At last, after digging through several feet of rich loam, we discovered
some clayey soil, with which we made shift, and the fire-place rose
rapidly. As it approached completion, a fire was lighted, and we were
congratulating ourselves upon complete success--when, crash! and down
it tumbled. Great was our consternation, and for some time we were
completely nonplused. An animated discussion took place as to the
manner of raising a more durable structure. La Ronde and Bruneau were
much chagrined at their failure, declared the clay was worthless, and
were too sulky to set to work again at once. There was, however, no
time to be lost in repairing the damage, or we should be left without
a fire-place when the thermometer was down below zero. Milton took
upon himself to be engineer, and built up a framework of green wood
to support the clay, and Cheadle, meanwhile, with horse and cart,
collected a stock of the most rectangular stones to be found. By this
means we built a substantial fire-place, which stood bravely all the
winter.
Whilst we were engaged in these labours we had several visits from our
Indian friends, but they had ceased to be very troublesome. The hunter,
Keenamontiayoo, called on his way to the Fort for winter supplies, and
returned with the news that the buffalo had already advanced within two
days’ journey of La Belle Prairie. This, however, proved to be without
foundation. We found old Kekekooarsis and the squaws exceedingly useful
to us. The former we employed to make snow shoes and some dog-sleighs,
whilst the latter mended our moccasins, and made up winter clothing.
On the 23rd of October the lake was completely frozen over, and near
two inches of snow covered the ground. A partial thaw took place,
however, on the 26th, after which the winter fairly commenced. Our work
was finished only just in time.