Milton visits Carlton--Fast Travelling--La Ronde and Bruneau set
out for Fort Garry--Trapping with Misquapamayoo--Machinations
against the Wolverine--The Animals’ Fishery--The Wolverine
Outwits us--Return Home--The Cree Language--How an Indian
tells a Story--New Year’s Day among the Crees--To the
Prairies again--The Cold--Travelling with Dog-sleighs--Out
in the Snow--Our New Attendants--Prospect of Starvation--
A Day of Expectation--A Rapid Retreat--The Journey Home--
Indian Voracity--Res Angusta Domi--Cheadle’s Journey to the
Fort--Perversity of his Companions--“The Hunter” yields to
Temptation--Milton’s Visit to Kekekooarsis--A Medicine Feast--
The New Song--Cheadle’s Journey Home--Isbister and his Dogs--
Mahaygun, “The Wolf”--Pride and Starvation--Our Meeting at
White Fish Lake.
On the morning of the 24th of December, Milton harnessed our three
Indian dogs to the little sleigh, and set out with Bruneau for the
Fort. La Ronde remained with Cheadle at the hut, engaging to join the
others at Carlton as soon as sufficiently recovered. Misquapamayoo had
also arrived, to commence his service as attendant on Cheadle. We both
spent our Christmas Eve somewhat drearily--Milton camping in the snow,
half-way to Carlton, supping on pemmican and gallette, and Cheadle,
in the hut, faring likewise; but the latter, feeling very dismal and
un-Christmaslike, he and La Ronde unearthed the hidden rum cask, and
established a weak conviviality by the aid of hot punch.
Milton and Bruneau went merrily along on their way to the Fort. The
road had just been well beaten by the passage of trains to La Crosse;
a slight thaw had followed, and the track was now frozen hard, so that
the dogs galloped away with the lightly-laden sleigh at a tremendous
pace over the ice. The two followed at speed, occasionally jumping
on to the sleigh for a time, to gain breath again. But the cold was
too great to allow a very long ride, and running was soon resumed.
They travelled with such expedition that although it was afternoon
when they left the hut, they travelled at least thirty miles before
nightfall, camping beyond the crossing of the Shell River. Milton,
eager beyond measure to arrive at the Fort in time to share the
Christmas festivities, arose in the middle of the night, and succeeded
in convincing Bruneau that it was nearly daybreak. They therefore
harnessed the dogs and started again. To their surprise, the moon rose
instead of the sun, but they kept on their way, and daybreak appeared
after several hours. They arrived at Carlton just in time to sit down
to Mr. Lillie’s Christmas dinner, having accomplished the journey of
eighty miles in the wonderfully short time of twenty-six hours. Plum
pudding and a bottle of sherry graced the board, and were both done
full justice to by the company.
La Ronde came in on the 27th, and on the following day set out with
Bruneau on their distant journey. They took with them two dog-sleighs,
and the best trains of dogs to be obtained at Carlton. The provision
they expected to bring was four sacks of flour and thirty or forty
pounds of tea; and the journey of 600 miles and back would occupy at
least two months. The snow was now so deep that a track would require
to be trodden out with snow-shoes to enable the dogs to travel, and the
undertaking was certain to be very laborious. The route they intended
to take was by Touchwood Hills and Fort Pelly on to the Manitobah Lake,
and thence to Fort Garry.
Cheadle, now left with only the Indian boy, went off into the woods to
make another attempt to circumvent his ancient enemy, the wolverine.
With pack slung on his back, gun on shoulder, and axe in belt, little
Misquapamayoo stalked along to lead the way, with all the dignity
and confidence of a practised hunter. No track or sign escaped his
observant eye, and he made and set traps, arranged the camp, cut wood,
and cooked meals, with the readiness and skill of an old trapper. The
heavier work of wood-chopping and the weightier pack fell, of course,
to Cheadle’s share; but Misquapamayoo was indefatigable in performing
everything in his power, and this was by no means contemptible, for
he could carry weights and use an axe in a manner which would have
surprised an English boy of the same age. He assumed an air of grave
superiority over his companion in all things relating to the hunter’s
or voyageur’s craft which was very amusing, although certainly
justified by the facts of the case.
The two spent their time in the woods merrily enough, for it was
impossible to be dull with such a lively, light-hearted companion
as Misquapamayoo. This may perhaps be thought strange when it is
stated that Cheadle, when he set out, did not know more than two or
three words of the Cree language. Yet this very circumstance was a
prolific source of amusement, and nothing delighted the boy more
than to instruct his companion, falling into fits of laughter at his
mispronunciations and mistakes. The easy manner in which communication
was carried on between the two, each ignorant of the other’s language,
was very astonishing. But Misquapamayoo appeared to divine by instinct
what was required, and it seemed difficult to believe at first that
he really did not understand a word of English. The perceptions of an
Indian are so nice, his attention so constantly on the alert, and his
conclusions so rapidly formed, that he draws inferences from general
signs with great readiness and accuracy.
The wolverine had renewed his visits along the line of traps, and
broken all which had been reconstructed, devouring the animals which
had been caught. Cheadle now adopted a device which he flattered
himself would catch the enemy in his own toils. All the broken traps
were repaired and set again, and poisoned baits substituted for the
ordinary ones in the traps--not in every instance, but here and there
along the line.
The forest in which we hunted commenced on the further side of our
lake, stretching away to the north apparently indefinitely. This was
broken only by numerous lakes and swamps, and patches of timber which
had been burnt. The lakes are always sought by the trapper, not only
because they enable him to travel more rapidly, and penetrate further
into the less hunted regions, but also because the edges of the lakes,
and the portages between them, are favourite haunts of the fox, the
fisher, and the mink. On one of these lakes a curious circumstance
was observed. The lake was about half a mile in length, and of nearly
equal breadth, but of no great depth. The water had seemingly frozen
to the bottom, except at one end, where a spring bubbled up, and a
hole of about a yard in diameter existed in the covering of ice, which
was there only a few inches thick. The water in this hole was crowded
with myriads of small fish, most of them not much larger than a man’s
finger, and so closely packed that they could not move freely. On
thrusting in an arm, it seemed like plunging it into a mass of thick
stir-about. The snow was beaten down all round hard and level as a
road, by the numbers of animals which flocked to the Lenten feast.
Tracks converged from every side. Here were the footprints of the cross
or silver fox, delicately impressed in the snow as he trotted daintily
along with light and airy tread; the rough marks of the clumsier
fisher; the clear, sharply-defined track of the active mink; and the
great coarse trail of the ever-galloping, ubiquitous wolverine. Scores
of crows perched on the trees around, sleepily digesting their frequent
meals. Judging by the state of the snow and collection of dung, the
consumption must have gone on for weeks, yet the supply seemed as
plentiful as ever.
This circumstance afforded an explanation of the fact that many of the
rivers and fresh-water lakes in this country are destitute of fish, as
all but the deeper ones freeze to the bottom, and therefore any fish
they contained would be destroyed.
When the trappers turned homewards they found that the wolverine had
followed them closely. On the ground which they had passed over on
the previous day, every trap was already demolished and the baits
abstracted. Cheadle fondly imagined that at last his enemy was
outwitted and destroyed, but Misquapamayoo’s sharper eyes discovered
each of the baits which had been poisoned, lying close at hand, bitten
in two and rejected, whilst all the others had disappeared. The baits
had been made with great care, the strychnine being inserted into the
centre of the meat by a small hole, and when frozen it was impossible
to distinguish any difference in appearance between them and the
harmless ones. It seemed as if the animal suspected poison, and bit
in two and tasted every morsel before swallowing it. The baits had
purposely been made very small, so that in the ordinary course they
would have been bolted whole. That the same wolverine had frequented
our path from the first, we knew perfectly well, for he was one of
unusually large size, as shown by his tracks, which were readily
distinguishable from the others we observed from time to time.
On the 28th of December, Milton left Carlton, and resting one night at
Treemiss’s hut, arrived the following day at La Belle Prairie. Cheadle
and Misquapamayoo had come in just before, and a very pleasant evening
was spent in talking over all that had happened during the separation.
Associating entirely with Indians until the return of our men, we
rapidly picked up the Cree language, and in the course of a few weeks
could speak it fluently if not grammatically. Nothing is easier than
to get a decent smattering of Cree, although the construction of the
language is extremely intricate. The name of many articles is the
explanation of their use or properties, the word being a combination of
a participle and noun, the latter generally the word _gun_, “a thing;”
as _parskisi-gun_, a “shooting thing;” _miniquachi-gun_, a “drinking
thing” or cup. This also appears in their proper names, which are
generally descriptions of some personal peculiarity; as in the names
Kekekooarsis and Keenamontiayoo, which have been mentioned before. The
consonants _d_, _f_, and _l_ are not found in the Cree alphabet, and
the Indians find great difficulty in pronouncing the two first when
trying to use English words. The appropriate gestures and expressive
pantomime with which an Indian illustrates his speech, render it easy
to understand. We soon learnt to interpret without much difficulty
the long hunting stories with which Keenamontiayoo whiled away the
evenings in our hut. The scene described was partly acted; the motions
of the game, the stealthy approach of the hunter, the taking aim, the
shot, the cry of the animal, or the noise of its dashing away, and the
pursuit, were all given as the tale went on.
We had arranged with Keenamontiayoo to start with him in a few days for
the plains, intending to pay a visit to a small camp of Wood Crees,
who we had heard were hunting buffalo about eighty miles off. We were,
however, astonished on the evening of the last day of the year, by
the arrival not only of the Hunter, but Kekekooarsis also, with their
wives, children, and relatives. They seemed very much delighted with
themselves, and were very complimentary to us. All quietly settled down
and began to smoke. It was plain they intended to stay some time with
us. As our room was so extremely small, we found it inconvenient to
accommodate so many visitors, but all our efforts to understand their
explanations were in vain, and we had to make the best of it.
On the following morning we were somewhat enlightened. At daybreak
the men got up, and fired off a great many shots in honour of the new
year. Then ensued a general shaking of hands all round, and a kissing
of the women and children. The latter part of the ceremony we, however,
very ungallantly omitted. We subsequently learnt that it is the custom
for those who have nothing wherewith to feast, to visit their friends
who may be in greater plenty; and our neighbours thought that they
could not do better than with us. As they _had_ come, we hastened our
departure, and set out with Keenamontiayoo and his son, leaving old
Kekekooarsis and the women in charge of the house until our return. We
took with us two dog-sleighs, and travelled in snow-shoes, for the snow
had now become far too deep to move without them. We had used them for
short distances for some time, and had become tolerably expert, but
found marching all day long in them very fatiguing at first. The Hunter
led the way, his son followed driving one train of dogs, and we came
next with the other.
After travelling a day and a half, we diverged from the track that La
Ronde had taken, and steered a point or two more west. The country was,
as before, a mixture of woods, lakes, and patches of open prairie,
somewhat hilly, and difficult for sleighs. The weather turned intensely
cold--far more severe than any we had before experienced. Light
showers of snow fell in minute particles, as it were frozen dew, when
the sun was shining brightly and the sky without a cloud. Clothed in
three or four flannel shirts, one of duffel, and a leather shirt; our
hands encased in “mittaines,” or large gloves of moose-skin lined with
duffel, made without fingers, large enough to admit of being easily
doffed on occasion, and carried slung by a band round the neck; our
feet swathed in bands of duffel, covered by enormous moccasins; and our
ears and necks protected by a curtain of fur, we were yet hardly able
to keep warm with the most active exercise; and when we stayed to camp,
shivered and shook as we essayed to light a fire.
Masses of ice, the size of a man’s fist, formed on Cheadle’s beard and
moustache--the only ones in the company--from the moisture of the
breath freezing as it passed through the hair. The oil froze in the
pipes we carried about our persons, so that it was necessary to thaw
them at the fire before they could be made to draw. The hands could
hardly be exposed for a moment, except when close to the fire. A bare
finger laid upon iron stuck to it as if glued, from the instantaneous
freezing of its moisture. The snow melted only close to the fire, which
formed a trench for itself, in which it slowly sank to the level of the
ground. The steam rose in clouds, and in the coldest, clearest weather,
it almost shrouded the fire from view. The snow was light and powdery,
and did not melt beneath the warmth of the foot, so that our moccasins
were as dry on a journey as if we had walked through sawdust instead of
snow. The parchment windows of our little hut were so small and opaque,
that we could hardly see even to eat by their light alone, and were
generally obliged to have the door open; and then, although the room
was very small, and the fire-place very large, a crust of ice formed
over the tea in our tin cups, as we sat within a yard of the roaring
fire. One effect of the cold was to give a most ravenous appetite for
fat. Many a time have we eaten great lumps of hard grease--rancid
tallow, used for making candles--without bread or anything to modify
it.[4]
When well sheltered by woods, and with an enormous fire blazing at our
feet, sleeping in the open air was pleasant enough. Tents are not used
for winter travelling, as the huge fire could not be made available.
On arriving at the ground we selected for a camp, every one set to
work as quickly as possible. One unharnessed the dogs and unpacked
the sleighs; another collected dry logs; a third cut fine chips, and
started the fire; whilst the fourth shovelled away the snow in front
of the fire with a snow-shoe, and strewed the bare ground with pine
branches. Then all squatted down, smoking and superintending the
cooking of supper, the hungry dogs seated round, waiting anxiously for
their share. A pipe and talk followed, and then each rolled himself in
his blankets or buffalo robe, covering head and all, placed his feet as
near to the fire as he dare, and slept. All huddled together as closely
as possible, and when silence had reigned some time, the dogs crept
softly in towards the fire, and lay between us, or at our feet. Before
sleeping, however, it was necessary to secure out of reach of the dogs
not only provisions, but snow-shoes, harness, and everything with any
skin or leather about it. An Indian dog will devour almost anything of
animal origin, and invariably eats his own harness, or his master’s
snow-shoes, if left within his reach.
Our new attendants showed us the greatest attention, and indeed were
extremely proud of serving the Soniow Okey Mow, and the Muskeeky Okey
Mow, as they had named us, which, being interpreted, signifies the
“Great Golden Chief,” and “My Master, the Great Medicine.” And we
found constant amusement over our camp-fire at night in teaching them
English words, and learning Cree. The circumstance that there were
some words which were almost identical in the two languages--words
which had been adopted from one language into the other--struck them
as very ludicrous, and they never tired of laughing over _pemmicàrn_,
“pemmican;” _mùskisin_, “moccasin;” _shùgow_, “sugar;” and the like.
And when we used wrong words for others very similar, as we frequently
did purposely--calling the old man Kekekooarsis, Kekwaharkosis, or
the “Little Wolverine;” or an Indian named Gaytchi Mohkamarn, or “The
Big Knife,” Matchi Mohkamarn, “The Evil Knife”--the joke was always
irresistible, and they rolled about and held their sides in fits of
laughter.
On the fourth day after leaving La Belle Prairie, we reached the
camping ground, where we expected to meet Indians, but found the camp
broken up, and saw by the tracks that the party had dispersed in
various directions. We therefore kept on in a straight line for the
prairie. The weather had become colder and colder, and as we passed
over a large lake just before dark, the wind blew so keenly that our
faces ached again, and our teeth chattered, although we hurried over it
into a little wood as rapidly as the dogs could go. Milton’s nose and
cheeks were frost-bitten, and required careful rubbing to restore them.
On the morrow, by the Hunter’s advice, we stayed in camp, while he went
out alone to reconnoitre, and try and kill a buffalo. Our provisions
were by this time reduced to a few handfuls of flour, and a little
pemmican--hardly more than sufficient for that day’s consumption. We
had started with a fair supply of white-fish and pemmican; but six dogs
rapidly reduced it. Two fish a day, or three pounds of pemmican, is the
regular allowance for a sleigh-dog when travelling; and the quantity
required to satisfy a man in the cold winter is greater still. We
therefore spent an anxious day, waiting for Keenamontiayoo’s return,
wondering whether he would be successful in obtaining meat. We put
ourselves upon short commons, and the dogs upon still shorter, and even
went to the length of fixing upon one useless, toothless old fellow as
a victim to our appetites, in case of extremity.
The day wore on slowly and monotonously, the cold was severe as ever,
and we diligently cut and stacked a large supply of wood for the
night fire. Night closed in around us, and we still watched in vain
for the Hunter, and speculated whether the delay was a sign of his
good luck or the reverse. Hours of darkness passed away, and yet we
listened anxiously, expecting to hear the footfall of the returning
Indian. Misquapamayoo became very uneasy, and sat silent and absorbed,
listening intently for his father’s step, and at last took to firing
his gun at short intervals, to signal our whereabouts. No answering
shot replied, but about midnight Keenamontiayoo appeared, bending
beneath a load which, on nearer view, showed to our gloating eyes the
heart, tongue, and other tit-bits of buffalo. These were soon cooked
and eaten, and over our supper he told us that he had hunted all day
without resting, but had not found a trace of buffalo. On his return,
however, just before dark, he discovered a solitary bull, which he
killed. The cold had so benumbed him that he was quite unable to cut
any meat until he had made a large fire, and afterwards was detained a
long time covering up the carcase with timber and snow, to protect it
from the wolves.
The next morning we moved camp close to the dead buffalo, and spent
that day in cutting him up, and collecting a good supply of dry wood,
which was scarce at this place.
The following day we found two more buffalo, and succeeded in badly
wounding one of them. Darkness came on before we could overtake him,
but we found him next morning, having been pulled down and partly eaten
by the wolves during the night.
At this time Milton’s face, which had been frost-bitten two days
before, swelled up with erysipelas in a most alarming manner. We were
80 or 100 miles from home, without any protection from the extreme
severity of the weather. We decided to cache a great part of the meat,
and travel back to La Belle Prairie as fast as the dogs could go.
The afternoon was spent in securing the meat which we were compelled
to leave behind, by enclosing it in a pyramid of logs, against which
we heaped a high bank of snow. This, when well beaten down and frozen,
held the timber firmly in position, and the Hunter declared it
perfectly impregnable to a whole army of wolves, although a wolverine
would certainly break it open if he found it.
The next morning a light load was placed on one sleigh, and on the
other Milton, smothered in buffalo robe and blankets, was securely
bound. Keenamontiayoo led the way, the boy followed driving one sleigh,
and Cheadle brought up the rear, in charge of his patient on the
other. The journey was very harassing and tedious. Our old track had
been completely snowed up, and the wretched dogs were not equal to
the emergency. Shushu, the leader, was willing, but young, thin, and
weak; the middle one, Comyun, was aged and asthmatic; and the shafter,
Kuskitaostaquarn, lame and lethargic. From morning to night the air
resounded with howling, and the cries of the drivers anathematising
Comyun and Kuskitaostaquarn. The sleighs constantly upset, from running
against a stump or slipping over a hill-side; and when we hauled and
strained to right them, the dogs lay down quietly, looking round at us,
and not offering to pull an ounce to help. When the driver, aggravated
beyond endurance, rushed up, stick in hand, and bent on punishment,
they made frantic exertions, which only made matters worse, resuming
their quiescent attitude the moment he returned to haul again at
the sleigh; and all the time the unfortunate Milton lay, bound and
helpless, half buried in the snow. In spite of all these hardships and
difficulties, he rapidly recovered, and by the time we reached home,
after three and a half days’ hard travelling, was nearly well.
On our arrival we found, to our surprise, that the women had made the
hut very clean and tidy, but had consumed all the provision we left
behind, and were, moreover, quite equal to a great feast on the meat we
had brought. We had providentially locked up a little flour, and this
was all that remained except the buffalo meat.
The Indians now returned to their homes, taking with them the greater
part of the fresh meat, the Hunter engaging to return in a week to
accompany us on a fresh expedition to the plains. To our astonishment,
however, he appeared on the third day, in company with Misquapamayoo
and Kekekooarsis, and informed us that provisions were exhausted. The
meat they had carried away with them three days before appeared to us
to be enough for a fortnight, but they assured us it was all eaten,
that the ice had become so thick that it was impossible to catch any
more fish, and that the only thing to be done was to be off to the
plains again immediately. We were quite taken aback and disappointed,
for we had counted on a large quantity of fish, with which old
Kekekooarsis had promised to supply us from his fishery at White Fish
Lake.
Our whole store consisted of a few pounds of meat, and a handful of
flour. The Indians brought twenty-two fish, and had left thirteen
with their families. This was, of course, absurdly insufficient for
a five days’ journey to the plains, and then have the risk of not
finding buffalo after all. We resolved upon a surer means of avoiding
starvation, by going over to the Fort for pemmican.
Milton was still quite unfit to travel, and he was therefore obliged
to remain behind, while Cheadle went to Carlton. We divided the food
equally between us, and the latter set off with the Indians at once.
They journeyed rapidly on for the first day, and Cheadle confidently
expected to reach Carlton on the evening of the second. The cold,
however, was so severe, that the Indians refused to stir in spite of
all his entreaties, and sat cooking and eating the few fish there were
until afternoon, replying to all his expostulations and suggestions
that it would be better to leave some food for the morrow, with the
eternal “Keyarm” (It’s all the same).
After they had consumed all but two, he prevailed upon them to start,
but after a few miles, they declared it was “osharm aimun” (too hard),
alluding to the bitter cold, and camped again for the night. They had
not yet got half way. Now the provisions were quite finished, and
seeing the “Okey Mow” was really angry, they rose before daylight, not
a whit uncomfortable or discontented with the knowledge that they had
forty miles to march with empty stomachs, or pity for the unfortunate
dogs who had now not tasted a morsel of food for two days. It was
otherwise, however, with Cheadle. Toiling away on snow-shoes until
noon, he experienced a wonderfully disagreeable sensation of emptiness,
and a tendency to bend double; and his walking in this stooping
attitude elicited frequent ridicule from the boy, who was vastly
delighted, and kept crying, “Keeipah, keeipah” (Quickly, quickly).
There was no help for it but to keep “pegging away,” and at dusk they
gained the well-beaten trail about five miles from the Fort. Snow-shoes
were doffed and tied on the sleighs; the dogs, knowing the end of the
journey was near, set off at a gallop; and the “Muskeeky Okey Mow,”
now quite recovered, astonished his companions by running ahead, and
arriving first at the Fort.
The next day, when the provisions were ready for the Indians to set out
with at once to the relief of Milton, Keenamontiayoo was discovered to
be in a state of intoxication. By noon he was sufficiently sobered to
start on the journey, and promised to make all possible haste. He was
very much ashamed of himself, and penitent withal, more particularly
because he had parted with a valuable hunting-knife, which he prized
very highly, for a teacupful of rum. It was one which the “Soniow Okey
Mow” had given him on our return from the plains, as a reward for his
good behaviour to us, and he had vowed never to part with it. A little
rum offered to him by one of the half-breeds, who coveted the knife,
overcame his resolution at once. The temptation is irresistible to an
Indian.
After the departure of the party for the Fort, Milton spent a few days
in monotonous solitude, eking out a scanty subsistence by the help of
his gun. Concluding, however, that the society of Kekekooarsis even
would be better than none, he put on his snow-shoes and marched over
to White Fish Lake. But there food was even scarcer than at home.
The fish were soon eaten, and the only supply then was an occasional
marten, mink, or otter, trapped by Kekekooarsis, and a few partridges
and rabbits, which Milton provided. But game was beginning to be scarce
in the immediate neighbourhood, and the strait had become more than
unpleasant when the Hunter and his son returned with the pemmican sent
off by Cheadle.
After his return, Keenamontiayoo went out into the woods to hunt
moose. For several days he had no success, and came back to perform a
solemn invocation to the “Manitou”[5] to bless his next attempt. Drums
were brought out, and rattles made of bladders with pebbles in them,
“medicine” belts of wolf skin donned, and other “medicine,” or magic
articles, such as ermine skins, and musk-rat skins covered with beads.
The Hunter and his father-in-law drummed and rattled, and sang songs,
finishing, after some hours, by a long speech which they repeated
together, in which they promised to give some of the best meat to the
Manitou if he granted success, and to compose a new song in his praise.
Before daylight Keenamontiayoo started, and at night returned in high
glee, for his prayer had proved very efficacious, and he had killed
two moose. The moose is a sacred animal, and certain portions of the
meat--such as the breast, liver, kidneys, and tongue--must be eaten
at once, and the whole consumed at a single meal. Women are not allowed
to taste the tongue, and all scraps are burnt, never given to the dogs.
The Hunter had brought the best part home with him, and Milton had
the pleasure of joining in a great feast. Tit-bits were cut off and
cast into the fire, as the promised offering to the Manitou, the men
chanting and beating drums and rattles the while. Then all feasted to
repletion, and Milton was kept from sleep by the persistency with which
Keenamontiayoo sang the new song he pretended to have composed for
the occasion, which he continued to sing over and over again without
cessation till nearly daylight. As he had been out hunting all day,
and busily engaged ever since his return, it is shrewdly suspected he
attempted to impose upon his Manitou, by making shift with an old hymn,
for he certainly could not have had much opportunity for composing the
new one he had promised.
Cheadle had remained at the Fort to await the arrival of the winter
express from Fort Garry, which comes once a year, bringing letters
for Carlton, and the more distant forts. Dog-sleighs arrived from all
quarters--Edmonton, La Crosse, Norway House, &c.--bringing letters
for England, in return for those brought for them by the Red River
train. It was a time of great excitement at the Fort, and when the
tinkling of sleigh bells gave warning of an arrival, all rushed out to
greet the new-comers and hear the latest news. We naturally expected
a large batch of letters, the arrears of all sent from home since we
left, for we had as yet received none. Dreadful was the disappointment,
therefore, when the Fort Garry express came in, and the box of letters
was seized and ransacked, to find not one for any of us. The only hope
left was that La Ronde might bring some when he returned.
Cheadle was now anxious to return as soon as possible, although without
the pleasant intelligence he had expected to carry with him. But
there was some difficulty in finding the means of transport, and the
cold was now so great that it would have been dangerous to cross open
country without a sleigh on which to carry an ample supply of robes and
blankets. At last an English half-breed, named Isbister, volunteered to
accompany him with his train of dogs, if he could travel rapidly, so as
to allow him to return to the Fort within three days, in order to join
a party of hunters going to the plains.
The offer was gladly accepted, and at noon the two set out. The north
wind blew very bitterly, the thermometer being down to thirty degrees
below zero. The track was tolerably good, although not firm enough
to allow snow-shoes to be dispensed with, and now rapidly drifting
up. Away went the dogs with the lightly-laden sleigh, and Isbister
and Cheadle strained their utmost to keep up, tearing along on their
snow-shoes, with a motion and swinging of arms from side to side, like
fen-skaters.
In spite of all this exertion, a very great many flannel shirts, a
leathern shirt, duffel shirt, and thick Inverness cape over all,
Cheadle was frost-bitten in many places--arms, legs, and face; and
when they pulled up to camp for the night in a clump of pines, he was
quite unable to strike a light, and even Isbister with difficulty
accomplished it. With a roaring fire, sleeping fully clothed, with
the addition of two buffalo robes and two blankets, it was impossible
to keep warm, or rest long without being admonished, by half-frozen
toes, to rise and replenish the fire. The dogs crept shivering up and
on to the bed, passing, like their masters, a restless night. The
thermometer on this night went down to thirty-eight degrees below zero,
the greatest cold which was experienced during this winter--the lowest
ever registered being forty-five degrees below zero.
The following morning they set forward again at a racing pace,
and reached the hut before dark--very fast travelling indeed on
snow-shoes, on a trail that was not in first-rate order. A man can,
indeed, walk much faster on snow-shoes, with a fair track, than on the
best road without them; but when the trail is frozen perfectly hard,
the voyageur casts them off, and runs behind the dogs, who are able to
gallop at great speed along the slippery path; and in this manner the
most extraordinary journeys have been made.
On entering the hut it proved to be empty, Milton being still at White
Fish Lake. They had observed strange footmarks leading to the hut as
they crossed the lake, and were puzzled whose they could be. Some one
had evidently visited the house that day, for the chimney was not yet
cold, nor the water in the kettle frozen.
After feeding the dogs, and making a hasty supper on raw pemmican and
tea, Isbister set to work to convert the sleigh into a rude cariole, or
passenger sleigh. Then wrapping himself in robe and blanket, he seated
himself therein, and in two hours after his arrival was on his way back
again to Carl ton. The dogs ran in with him by eleven o’clock on the
following morning, having accomplished upwards of 140 miles in less
than forty-eight hours, and the last seventy without stopping for rest
or food.
Cheadle meanwhile remained a prisoner at Fort Milton, being so stiff
and sore from his unusual kind of exercise, and so lame from using
snow-shoes, that he crept about slowly and painfully, to perform the
necessary duties of cutting wood and cooking. As he sat over the fire
in the evening, alone, in somewhat dismal mood, the door opened, and
in walked a French half-breed, of very Indian appearance. He sat down
and smoked, and talked for an hour or two, stating that he was out
trapping, and his lodge and family were about five miles distant. In
due time Cheadle produced some pemmican for supper, when the visitor
fully justified the sobriquet which he bore of Mahaygun, or “The Wolf,”
by eating most voraciously. He then mentioned that he had not tasted
food for two days. He had visited our hut the day before, lit a fire,
melted some snow in the kettle, and waited for a long time, in the hope
that some one might come in. At last he went away, without touching
the pemmican which lay upon the table ready to his hand. The story
was, doubtless, perfectly true, agreeing with all the signs previously
observed, and the fact that the pemmican was uncut.
With the pangs of hunger gnawing at his stomach, and viewing, no doubt,
with longing eyes the food around, he had yet, according to Indian
etiquette, refrained from clamouring at once for food, but sat and
smoked for a long time, without making the slightest allusion to his
starving condition. When, in due course, his host offered him something
to eat, he mentioned the wants of himself and family. The next day he
left, carrying with him supplies for his squaw. He was exceedingly
grateful for the assistance, and promised to return in a day with his
wife, who should wash and mend all our clothes, as some acknowledgment
of the kindness.
Cheadle, being now somewhat recovered from his late severe journey,
strapped on his snow-shoes, and set out to seek Milton amongst the
Indians at White Fish Lake. He suffered so severely from snow-shoe
lameness, however, that he with difficulty accomplished the nine or ten
miles’ journey by nightfall. Opening the door of the hut, he discovered
the old squaw--frying-pan in hand--engaged in cooking the evening
pemmican, and was warmly received by all, Milton being quite tired of
living entirely amongst savage society, and the Indians always ready
to welcome the white man hospitably. The Hunter and Misquapamayoo were
absent, having gone to bring in the meat of a moose, which the former
had killed. We returned home on the following day, leaving word for the
two Indians to join us as soon as possible.