Mr. Woolsey's farewell visit to Edmonton--Preparing for a trip to
Fort Garry--Indians gathering into our valley--Fight between Crees
and Blackfeet--The "strain of possible tragedy"--I start for Fort
Garry--Joined by Ka-kake--Sabbath observance--A camp of Saulteaux--An
excited Indian--I dilate on the numbers and resources of the white
man--We pass Duck Lake--A bear hunt--"Loaded for b'ar"--A contest in
athletics--Whip-poor-wills--Pancakes and maple syrup--Pass the site
of Birtle--My first and only difference with Ka-kake.
Early in April I took Mr. Woolsey and my sister Georgina to Edmonton.
Mr. Woolsey expected to return east during the summer, and was to
make his farewell visit. My sister was invited by the Chief Factor's
lady, Mrs. Christie, to spend some time with her. We travelled on
horseback with pack-horses. We were three days on the trip up, and I
was two coming home, after safely delivering my passengers at
Edmonton.
Soon after I came back father startled me by saying he wanted me to
go to Fort Garry to bring out the supplies for the two missions,
Whitefish Lake and Victoria. He said that the Hudson's Bay Company
had notified all missionaries that their transport was needed for
their own business, and suggested that the missionaries make their
own arrangements for obtaining supplies. Therefore he wanted me to
go down and purchase and bring up what was needed for the Methodist
missions on the Saskatchewan. I was to take horses and men from both
missions, and also purchase some cattle down there to bring up for
work and for dairy purposes. Thus I found my work cut out for me for
several months ahead, and I immediately commenced making preparations.
The Indians had now begun to come in in large bands, and very soon
our valley was full of life. Men, both wild and partially civilized,
surrounded the place, though a large number of the former, instead of
coming in with the camp, had gone the other way, seeking for scalps
and horses, and, if successful, would be drifting in later on.
Already that spring there had been a big fight between a party from
our camp and the Blackfeet. The Crees were surrounded and kept for
two nights and nearly two days in the pits they had dug with their
knives. The Blackfeet were ten times their number, and kept them
well under cover, but did not muster courage sufficient to rush in,
or the Crees would have been cleaned out in short order. As it was,
several were killed. Of two I knew, one was killed and the other
shot in the breast, but recovered as by a miracle.
Father and Peter would now be on a continuous strain of work for the
next six weeks, planting, hoeing, teaching, preaching, healing,
counselling, civilizing and Christianizing. Night and day, constant
watchfulness and care would be required. A very little thing might
make a very big row. Life and death were in the balance, and the
missionary had to be a man of fine tact and quick judgment as well as
a man of prayer. The turbulent element was sometimes in the
majority, for large numbers of Plain Crees had come in with the
quieter Wood Indians. Saucy, proud, arrogant, lawless fellows they
were, every one of them, yet, withal, courteous and kind if one only
took them the right way; and to be able to do this we were studying
all the time.
Mother and my young sisters moved in and out among these painted and
war-bedizened crowds, all unconscious of their danger, and it was
well it was so; but father and myself, and others also, felt the
strain of possible tragedy. Maskepetoon when at the mission was a
tower of strength, and a great source of comfort; but there were a
number of jealous factions even in his own camp, and born chief that
he was, he often found them very hard to control. This was the first
attempt by any Church to establish a mission among these people, and
under such circumstances, we put our trust in Providence--but kept
our powder dry.
It was with an anxious yet sanguine mind that, during the last days
of April, 1864, I left parents and mission party behind and started
eastward for Fort Garry. I had with me a French half-breed, Baptiste
by name, and we were to be joined by the men and horses from Mr.
Steinhauer's mission some fifty or sixty miles farther east. We had
a pack-horse to carry our food and bedding, and were in the saddle
ourselves--that is, we had two Indian pads, as the Mexican saddle had
not yet made its appearance so far north.
The second day we were joined by our comrades from Whitefish Lake, my
friend Ka-kake being one of the number. They had a cart with them.
Our party now was complete, and consisted of five men and fifteen
horses. As it was early in the season, and our horses had come
through a pretty hard winter with considerable work, and consequently
were somewhat run down, we travelled slowly, averaging about thirty
miles per day. Our provision was pemmican, but we supplemented this
as we travelled with ducks, geese, and chickens. Yet,
notwithstanding all our efforts to procure variety of diet, many a
meal was hard grease pemmican straight.
We travelled only the six days, faithfully and rigidly observing the
Sabbath, which told in the manifest improvement in the condition of
our stock. We had prayer morning and night, my men taking turn in
conducting worship. On Sunday we rested and sang a number of hymns,
and as we were speaking Cree all the time, I was constantly improving
myself in the language, and learning the idioms and traditions of the
people amongst whom it would seem my lot was to be cast.
We passed Fort Pitt, and continuing down the north side came to
Jackfish Lake, where we found the camp of Salteaux that frequented
this lake feasting on the carcases of a great herd of buffalo that
had been drowned in the lake the previous winter. Too many had got
together in some stampede across the ice and had broken through and
were drowned; and now that the ice was off the lake, the carcases
were drifting ashore. These improvident people were glad to get the
meat. They offered us some, and though Ka-kake took it out of
deference to their kindness, he watched his opportunity and threw it
away. Some of the younger men came to our camp that night, and as
Ka-kake was a sort of kinsman of theirs, he undertook to show them
the folly of their course in some lawless acts which they were
charged with perpetrating (for these fellows had a hard name). One
of them, after listening to Ka-kake's talk, began to speak quite
excitedly, and said: "You seem to make much ado about our taking some
plunder and demanding tribute of parties passing through our country.
What will you think when we really do something, for we are disposed
to organize and take these Hudson's Bay forts, and drive all the
white men out of this country; then you will have something to talk
about!"
Just here I thought it was my turn to join in the conversation, and
quietly snatching a handful of blades of grass, I picked the shortest
and smallest one of these and held it in my other hand, then looking
at the excited Indian I said: "My friend, I have listened to you; now
listen to me. Look at this handful of grass in my hand: These are
many and big and strong, and this little one in my other hand is
small and weak and alone. This little weak, lone grass represents
the white man as he now is in this country. There are a few traders
and a few missionaries, but they are as this little grass in strength
and number, as you look at them; but if you hurt them in any wise, as
you say you will, this bunch of many and strong grasses I hold in my
hand represents the multitude your own conduct would bring into this
country to avenge them. You say you can easily wipe out the white
men now in this country--have you thought that they have the guns and
the ammunition and the real strength? Can you or any of your people
make guns or ammunition? Then why talk so foolishly and
thoughtlessly?"
Ka-kake in his own way strongly endorsed what I said. Then I began
to tell those fellows something about civilization and the numbers
and resources of the white man, and they opened their eyes at what I
had to say. I wound up by telling them that though the white man was
so numerous and strong, yet he did not want to take their country
from them by force; but when the time came the Government would treat
with the Indians for their country and their rights; that the
missionaries were in the country sent by the "good white men" to
prepare the Indians for a peaceful transition into a better condition
than they now were in. "For instance," said I, "you people had
plenty of buffalo near you last winter, and now you are living on
rotten, drowned meat, and yet you are men. There is something wrong,
and if you will only listen, and put away evil thoughts and bad talk,
such as you gave us just now, we will show you something better."
All of which Ka-kake strongly corroborated, and when the Salteaux
went away he turned to me and thanked me for the way I had spoken to
that man and his party. Said he, "It will do them good; they will
think about it." At the same time we tethered our horses and guarded
them well.
Crossing the North Saskatchewan at Carlton by means of a small skiff
and swimming our horses over, then passing Duck Lake, where I had
hunted ducks two years before, and which, twenty years hence, was to
become the scene of the first real outbreak, under Riel, in 1885, we
crossed the south branch, where Batoche some years later settled and
gave his name to the place. The next day we had a bear hunt, but did
not get the bear, as the brush was too dense, and we had no dog. We
killed several antelope, and (it seemed to me) ate them up in no time.
Crossing the alkali plains we journeyed through the Touchwood Hills.
Here we had another bear hunt, and this time Ka-kake killed the bear,
and we put him, great big fellow that he was, into our cart to take
him on to camp. Then followed a lively time with the hitherto very
quiet old horse that was pulling the cart, for suddenly he seemed to
find out what he was hauling, and attempted to run away. Failing in
that he then tried to kick the cart to pieces, and in many ways
showed his objections to the load. He might, if he had travelled in
the East, have heard the phrase, "being loaded for b'ar," but if he
had, he most emphatically drew the distinction between that and being
loaded with bear. However, we got him to camp at last, and very
carefully took him out of the shafts before we let him see the bear.
Thus antelope steak and bear's ribs, with fowl occasionally, and eggs
of more or less ancient date now and then, varied the monotony of the
everlasting pemmican.
We caught up to a party from Lac-la-biche going the same way. They
were French half-breeds on their way into Red River with their furs.
We found them first-rate travelling companions, and fully enjoyed
their company. At one of our evening encampments, one party
challenged the other to a contest in athletic sports, and we beat
them badly, my man Baptiste leaving their best man easily in a
footrace. He said to me, "Mr. John, I will run fust; if he leave me,
then you will run." "All right, Baptiste," said I; but there was no
need for my running, as Baptiste won the race for us. Of this I was
very glad, for he also was a French mixed blood, and of themselves.
Then, in jumping and throwing the stone we were far ahead, and my men
were greatly pleased at our victory. I confess to feeling well
pleased myself, for I delighted in these things at that time.
Continuing our journey, we left these people to come on more slowly.
We crossed Pheasant Plains and the Cut Arm Creek, and camped one
evening on the high bank of the Qu'Appelle River, beside a spring.
In the evening shade, as we were sitting beside our camp-fire,
suddenly I heard a cry which thrilled through my whole being:
"Whip-poor-will!" "Whip-poor-will!" came echoing through the woods
and up the valley, and in a moment I was among the scenes of my
childhood, paddling a birch canoe along the shores of the great
lakes, rioting among the beech and maple woods of old Ontario. For
years I had not heard a whip-poor-will, and now the once familiar
sounds brought with them a feeling of home-sickness.
The next afternoon Ka-kake and I, leaving our companions to cross the
Assiniboine above the mouth of the Qu'Appelle, detoured by way of
Fort Ellice, and here also I had another memorable experience. Mrs.
MacKay, the wife of the gentleman in charge of the Fort, very kindly
invited me to have supper with them. As we would have plenty of time
to rejoin our party afterwards, I gladly accepted, and what should be
on the table but pancakes and maple syrup! I had not tasted maple
syrup for four years, had not had a slice of bread for two years, had
not even tasted anything cooked from flour for some time. No wonder
I can never forget those cakes and syrup! Verily the memory of them
is still sweet to my taste. Not that I am an epicure--by no
means--but these were things I had been accustomed to, almost bred
on, all my life previous to coming to the North-West.
We rejoined our companions at Bird Tail Creek, camping on the spot
where now the town of Birtle stands. This was Saturday night, and
during that Sunday camp on the bank of Bird Tail Creek I had my first
and only difference with Ka-kake. Some hunters on the way out by
Fort Ellice camped beside us, and from these Ka-kake learned that
friends of his were camped about twenty miles farther on. About the
middle of the afternoon, he and the two Indians from Whitefish Lake
began to catch their horses, and make as if they were going to start.
I asked what they meant, and Ka-kake told me that they were going on,
and would wait for us in the morning. I said he might go on if he
chose, but I would not consent to his taking the horses belonging to
Mr. Steinhauer, as these were in my charge, and I did not intend to
have them travel on Sunday. He was firm, but I was firmer; and
finally Ka-kake turned the horses loose and gave it up.
I do not think I would be so hard now that more than thirty years
intervene and my outlook is broader, and my thought more liberal;
nevertheless, I believed I was right at the time, and therefore acted
as I did.