Long we continued to hope against hope. Neither was our father's body,
nor were any of the cattle he was driving off ever discovered. The
current must have swept them down into Lake Winnipeg.
"I aint much of a person for it, young masters," said Sam Dawes, taking
a hand of each of us and looking at us affectionately, "but I loves ye
as sons, and I'll be in the place of a father, that I will."
Faithfully did Sam Dawes keep his word.
"Grief is right and does us good in the end, depend on't, or it wouldn't
be sent; but it mustn't make us forget duty. Now you see it is our duty
to live, and we can't live without food, and we can't get food without
we work, so let's turn to and plough and sow the ground."
This proposal may seem like mockery, but among the valuables placed by
our father in the canoe was a good supply of seed corn and other seeds,
and we had discovered our plough driven deep into the ground. Sigenok
disappeared the moment he understood our intentions, and Sam looked very
blank, and said that he feared he did not like work and had gone off.
"I think not," observed Malcolm; and he was right. In a few hours
Sigenok returned two horses and several hides well tanned, and needles,
and fibre for thread. I thought Sam would have hugged him, he was so
delighted. Without loss of time they set to work and cut out a set of
harness, and, lighting a lamp, seated at the entrance to our tent,
laboured at it the greater part of the night, Malcolm and I helping as
far as we could. Sam made us go to sleep, but as I looked up they were
still at work, and when I awoke in the morning it was finished. The
horses were a little restive, evidently not being accustomed to
ploughing, but they obeyed Sigenok's voice in a wonderful way, though it
was necessary in the first place to teach him what ought to be done. It
is said by some that Indians will not labour. I have reason to know
that they will when they have a sufficient motive. Sigenok showed this.
His motive was gratitude to us, and affection excited by compassion.
No white man would have laboured harder. When the wheat and Indian corn
was in the ground, he with his horses helped Sam and us to bring in
stuff for fencing and to put it up. All this time he slept outside our
tent, under shelter of a simple lean-to of birch bark. Another day he
disappeared, and we saw him in the evening coming up the river towing
some timber. He brought a heavy log up on his shoulders. "There is
part of your house," he observed, "we can get the rest in time."
So we did; we borrowed a large boat, and taking advantage of a northerly
wind, we brought up, piece by piece, the whole of our hut, which had
grounded near the banks of the river. Our neighbours, in spite of the
value of their time to themselves, came and helped us, and we very soon
had our hut over our heads, though, excepting the articles we had saved
in the canoe, we had no furniture remaining.
"Sigenok live here with you," observed our Indian friend.
"Of course; very glad," we answered, thinking he intended to take up his
abode in our hut.
We had arranged that morning to go to the Fort [Fort Garry, belonging to
the Hudson's Bay Company] to obtain flour and other articles. We were
not without money, for our father had put his desk in the canoe, awl in
it we found a sum of money, considerable for our wants. On our return
from the Fort, we found that Sigenok had erected close to our door an
Indian wigwam. It was simple of construction. It consisted of about a
dozen long poles stuck in the ground in a circle, and fastened together
at the top so as to make the figure of a cone. Against these pales were
placed large slabs of birch bark, in layers, which, having a tendency to
regain their circular form, cling round the cone, and are further
secured with bands of fibre. In the centre is the fire, while the smoke
escapes through an opening left in the top; some mats on the ground, and
some lines stretched across on which clothes or other articles can be
hung up, form the chief furniture of these wigwams. To these may be
added a bundle of hides or mats, and an iron pot.
We had purchased some bedding at the Fort, and Sam and Malcolm soon
knocked up some rough furniture, which served our purpose. We should
often have been on short commons had not Sam and Sigenok been expert
fishermen, so that we were never without an ample supply of white-fish,
or gold-eyes, or sturgeon.
"This very well," observed Sigenok. "Fish very good, but in winter
buffalo better."
"Will you help us to go and hunt the buffalo, then?" we both exclaimed.
Sigenok nodded; it was what he had proposed to himself that we should
do. Although a wood Indian, he had connections among the prairie
Indians, and from living with them had become a good rider and expert
hunter. Sam did not like our going; he was afraid some accident might
happen to us, but he had not the heart to tell us so. He was to remain
at home to take care of the farm. Sigenok procured two other horses,
one for himself, and another to drag a light cart which we bought, made
entirely of wood. It was laden with our tent and provisions, and our
rifles and powder and shot. We felt in high spirits when we were ready
to start, and wishing Sam an affectionate farewell, set off to join a
large band of hunters proceeding to the plains. There were nearly three
hundred men, besides their wives and children. The greater number were
half-breeds, but there were also a large body of Indians, among whom we
found Sigenok's relatives, who received us in the most cordial manner,
and told us that we should be their brothers, that our friends should be
their friends, and our foes their foes. The half-breeds had nearly five
hundred carts, each with a distinguishing flag; and there must have been
even a larger number of hunters, all mounted. Their tents, or lodges,
are formed of dressed buffalo-skins. They are pitched in a large
circle, with the carts outside; and when in a hostile country, with the
animals in the centre, otherwise they feed outside the circle. They
have a captain, and regular officers under him; and a flag hoisted on a
pole in the centre serves as a signal. When hauled down, it is a sign
that the march is to be continued. When the whole body was on the move,
it reminded us of a caravan in the East, with the long line of carts
winding along over the plain, and the horsemen galloping about on either
side.
For several days we travelled on without seeing any buffalo, till one
day, soon after we had camped, notice was brought by the scouts that a
large herd were in the neighbourhood. All was now excitement and
preparation in the camp. Sigenok called us early in the morning, and,
after a hasty breakfast, in high spirits we mounted our horses, and
accompanied the band of hunters. We made a wide circuit, so as to let
the wind blow from the buffaloes towards us. I should tell you that the
animal denominated the buffalo by the North Americans is what is
properly called the bison by naturalists. They roam in vast herds over
the interior of America, from Mexico as far north as the large river
Saskatchewan and Lake Winnipeg. We rode on, drawing nearer and nearer,
till, as we ascended a slight elevation, we saw over it on the plain on
the other side a vast herd of big-headed, dark, hairy monsters, more
buffaloes than I supposed existed on the whole continent. They were
feeding quietly, as if not aware of the approach of foes. Our captain,
an experienced hunter, rode along the ranks commanding silence,
directing every man to look to his arms, and exhorting the novices not
to shoot each other, a danger which might justly be apprehended. Each
hunter now ascertained that his rifle was loaded, and then filled his
mouth with bullets--a ready-at-hand pouch, that he might the more
quickly drop them into his piece. I was afraid of following this
example, for fear of the bullets dropping down my throat or of my gun
bursting. Malcolm and I kept close to Sigenok. He told us to do what
he did, not to lose sight of him, assuring us that our horses understood
hunting perfectly. Our hearts beat with eagerness. We had now got near
enough, in the opinion of our leader, to charge. The signal was given,
and at headlong speed the band of huntsmen dashed in among the
astonished animals. The buffaloes fled in all directions, the horsemen
following, firing right and left, and loading again with extraordinary
rapidity, seldom missing; and as each animal fell, the hunter who had
killed it dropped some article of his dress, or other mark, by which he
might distinguish it.
It was the most exciting scene in which I was ever engaged--the hunters,
so lately a dense and orderly body, were now scattered far and wide over
the plain, many miles apart, in pursuit of the buffaloes; some
terror-stricken, others infuriated to madness. Sigenok had killed five
or six, and Malcolm had also, much to our gratification, killed one,
though I had not been so successful, from nervousness, I fancy; when the
Indian being at some distance, as we were in full chase of another
buffalo, a huge bull started out from behind a knoll, and rushed towards
us. My brother's horse started at the unexpected sight, and putting his
foot into a badger hole, stumbled, and threw him over his head. The
faithful animal stood stock still, but on came the bull. I shrieked out
to Malcolm to leap on his horse and fly, but he was stunned, and did not
hear me. The bull was not twenty paces from him; in another instant he
would have been gored to death. I felt thankful that I had not before
fired. Raising my rifle to my shoulder, I pulled the trigger, the huge
animal was within ten paces of him; over it went, then rose on its
knees, and struggled forward. I galloped up to Malcolm, who was
beginning to recover his senses. With a strength I did not fancy I
possessed I dragged him up, and helped him on his horse just before the
monster fell over the spot where he had lain, and would have crushed him
with his weight. By the time Sigenok returned, the buffalo was dead.
He highly praised me when he heard what had occurred, but said that we
had had hunting enough that day, and that he would now summon his people
to take possession of the animals we had killed. The skins are called
robes, and are valued as articles of trade, being taken by the fur
traders and sent to Canada, England, Russia, and other parts of the
world. Parts of the flesh of the slain animals was carried into the
camp for immediate consumption, but the larger portion was prepared
forthwith in a curious way for keeping. The meat is first cut into thin
slices and dried in the sun, and these slices are then pounded between
two stones till the fibres separate. This pounded meat is then mixed
with melted fat, about fifty pounds of the first to forty pounds of the
latter, and while hob is pressed into buffalo-skin bags, when it forms a
hard, compact mass. It is now called pemmican, from _pemmi_, meat, and
_ken_, fat, in the Cree language. One pound of this mixture is
considered as nutritious as two of ordinary meat, and it has the
advantage of keeping for years through all temperatures.