down to the outlet of the McLeod River," began Rob again, ever ready
with his maps and books. "I think they call it the Pack River now.
There is a sort of wide place near there, where the Mischinsinclia
River comes in from the east, and above that ten or fifteen miles is
the Misinchinca River, on the same side. I don't know who named those
rivers, but we haven't passed them yet, that's sure. Then down below
the mouth of the McLeod is the Nation River, quite a good stream, I
suppose, on the west side. The modern maps show another stream called
the Manson still farther. I don't know whether Mackenzie knew them by
these names, or whether we can tell them when we see them, but it's
all the more fun if we can't."
VII
AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE
The point at which they ended their day's voyage was a long sand-pit
projecting out from the forest and offering a good landing for the
canoes. They were glad enough to rest. Moise and Alex, who had paddled
steadily all the afternoon, stepped out on the beach and stretched
themselves.
"Let's go back into the woods," said Jesse. "We can't sleep on these
hard little rocks--we can't even drive the tent-pegs here."
"Well, Mr. Jess," said Alex, "if you went back into the woods I think
you'd come back here again--the mosquitoes would drive you out. If you
notice, the wind strikes this point whichever way it comes. In our
traveling we always camp on the beaches in the summer-time when we
can."
"Besides," added Rob, "even if we couldn't drive the tent-pins, we
could tie the ropes to big rocks. We can get plenty of willows and
alders for our beds, too, and some pine boughs."
The long twilight of these northern latitudes still offered them
plenty of light for their camp work, although the sun was far down in
the west. Alex, drawing his big buffalo knife, helped the tired boys
get ready their tent and beds, but he smiled as he saw that to-night
they were satisfied with half as many boughs as they had prepared on
their first night in camp.
"I don't suppose," said Rob, "that Sir Alexander and his men made very
big beds."
"No, I'm afraid not," replied Alex. "On the contrary, the canoemen
always broke camp about four o'clock in the morning, and they kept
going until about seven at night. Fifteen hours a day in and out of
the water, paddling, poling, and tracking, makes a man so tired he
doesn't much care about what sort of bed he has."
While the others were getting the tent ready Moise was busy making his
fire and getting some long willow wands, which he now was making into
a sort of frame.
"What's that for, Moise?" asked Jesse.
"That's for dry those feesh you boys'll got this morning. Fine big
trouts, three, four poun', an' fat. I'll fix heem two, three, days so
he'll keep all right."
"But we couldn't stay here two or three days," said John.
"We might do worse," replied Alex. "This isn't a bad camping place,
and besides, it seems to me good country to make a little hunt, if we
care to do that."
"It certainly would be a fine place for beaver," said Rob, "if it
weren't against the law to kill them."
"Yes, or other things also--bear or bighorns, I should think very
likely."
"I suppose there isn't any law against killing bears," said Rob, "but
how about bighorns? I thought they were protected by law."
"We'll talk about that after a while," Alex answered. "Of course, no
one would want to kill beaver at this time of year, no matter what the
law was, because the fur is not good."
"I see by Sir Alexander's journal," continued Rob, "that it must have
been along in here that they saw so much beaver work. There are plenty
of dams even now, although it's a hundred years later than the time he
came through."
"I suppose when we get down farther there are fewer creeks," said
John, "and the rocks and trees are bigger. I don't know just where we
are now, because the trees are so thick a fellow can't see out."
"Well," went on Rob, bringing out his map, and also that which was
found in his copy of _Mackenzie's Voyages_, "it must have been just
about in here that Mackenzie met the first Indians that he saw in this
country--the ones who told him about the carrying place, and about the
big river and the salt water beyond it. They were the Indians who had
iron spears, and knives, and things, so that he knew they had met
white men off to the west. They had a big spoon which Mackenzie says
was made out of a horn like the buffalo horn of the Copper Mine River.
I suppose Mackenzie called the musk-ox buffalo, and very likely he
never had seen a mountain-sheep."
"That's right," said Alex, "those Injuns used to make big spoons out
of the horns of the mountain-sheep--all the Injuns along the Rockies
always have done that. It seems strange to me that Mackenzie didn't
know that, although at that he was still rather a new man in the
north."
"You never have been in here yourself, have you, Alex?" asked John.
"No, and that's what is making the trip so pleasant for me. I'm having
a good time figuring it out with you. I know this river must run north
between those two ranges of mountains, and it must turn to the east
somewhere north of here. But I've never been west of Fort St. John."
"I don't like the look of this river down there," said Jesse, stepping
to the point of the bar, and gazing down the stream up which came the
sullen roar of heavy rapids.
"Those rapeed, she'll been all right," said Moise. "Never fear, we go
through heem all right. To-morrow, two, three, day we'll go through
those rapeed like the bird!"
"We can walk around them, Jesse, if we don't want to run them," said
Rob, reassuringly. "Of course it's rather creepy going into heavy
water that you don't know anything about--I don't like that myself.
But just think how much worse it must have been for Sir Alexander and
his men, who were coming up this river, and on the high water at that.
Why, all this country was overflowed, and one time, down below here,
all the men wanted to quit, it was such hard work. He must have been a
brave man to keep them going on through."
"He was a great man," added Alex. "A tired man is hard to argue with,
but he got them to keep on trying, and kept them at their work."
"Grub pile!" sang Moise once more, and a moment later all were
gathered again around the little fire where Moise had quickly
prepared the evening meal.
"I'm just about starved," said John. "I've been wanting something to
eat all afternoon."
They all laughed at John's appetite, which never failed, and Moise
gave him two large pieces of trout from the frying-pan. "I'll suppose
those feesh he'll seem good to you," said Moise.
"I should say they were good!" remarked Jesse, approvingly. "I like
them better all the time."
"S'pose we no get feesh in the north," began Moise, "everybody she'll
been starve."
"That's right," said Alex. "The traders couldn't have traveled in this
country without their nets. They got fish enough each night to last
them the next day almost anywhere they stopped. You see, sometimes the
buffalo or the caribou are somewhere else, but fish can't get out of
the river or the lake, and we always know where to look for them."
"The dore, she'll be good feesh," continued Moise, "but we'll not got
dore here. Maybe so whitefeesh over east, maybe so pickerel."
"You remember how we liked codfish better than salmon up in Alaska
when we were on Kadiak Island?" asked Rob. "I wonder if we'll like
trout very long at a time?"
"Whitefeesh she'll be all right," Moise smiled. "Man an' dog both
he'll eat whitefeesh."
"Well, it's all right about fish," Rob remarked, after a time, "but
how about the hunt we were talking about? I promised Uncle Dick I'd
bring him some bearskins."
"Black bear or grizzlies?" asked Alex, smiling.
"Grizzly."
"Well, I don't know about that," demurred Alex. "Of course I don't
deny you may have killed a bear or so up in Alaska, but down here most
of us are willing to let grizzlies alone when we see them."
"This white-face bear, he'll be bad," Moise nodded vigorously.
"Are there many in here?" asked John, curiously, looking at the dense
woods.
"I don't know," Alex replied. "I've seen a few tracks along the bars,
but most of those are made by black bear. Injuns don't look for
grizzlies very much. I don't suppose there's over six or eight grizzly
skins traded out of Fort St. John in a whole year."
"Injuns no like for keel grizzly," said Moise. "This grizzly, he'll be
chief. He'll be dead man, too, maybe. Those grizzly he'll be onkle of
mine, maybe so. All Injun he'll not want for keel grizzly. Some Injun
can talk to grizzly, an' some time grizzly he'll talk to Injun, too,
heem."
"Now, Moise," said Rob, "do you really think an animal can talk?"
"Of course he'll talk. More beside, all animal he'll talk with
spirits, an' man, not often he can talk with spirits himself. Yes,
animal he'll talk with spirit right along, heem."
"What does he mean, Alex?" asked Rob.
"Well," said Alex, gravely, "I'm half Injun too, and you know, Injuns
don't think just the way white people do. Among our people it was
always thought that animals were wiser than white men think them. Some
have said that they get wisdom from the spirits--I don't know about
that."
"Do you know how those cross fox he'll get his mark on his back that
way?" asked Moise of Rob.
"No, only I suppose they were always that way."
"You know those fox?"
"We all know them," interrupted John. "There's a lot of them up in
Alaska--reddish, with smoky black marks on the back and shoulders, and
a black tail with a white tip. They're worth money, too, sometimes."
"Maybe Moise will tell you a story about how the fox got marked," said
Alex quietly.
"Oh, go ahead, Moise," said all the boys. "We'd like to hear that."
"Well, one tam," said Moise, reaching to the fire to get a coal for
his pipe, and leaning back against a blanket-roll, "all fox that ron
wild was red, like some fox is red to-day. But those tam was some good
fox an' some bad fox. Then Wiesacajac, he'll get mad with some fox an'
mark heem that way. He'll been bad fox, that's how he get mark."
"Wiesacajac?" asked Rob. "What do you mean by that?"
"He means one of the wood-spirits of the Cree Indians," answered Alex,
quietly. "You know, the Injuns have a general belief in the Great
Spirit. Well, Wiesacajac is a busy spirit of the woods, and is usually
good-natured."
"Do you believe in him?" asked Jesse. "I thought you went to church,
Alex?"
"The Company likes us all to go to church when we're in the
settlements," said Alex, "and I do regularly. But you see, my mother
was Injun, and she kept to the old ways. It's hard for me to
understand it, about the old ways and the new ones both. But my mother
and her people all believed in Wiesacajac, and thought he was around
all the time and was able to play jokes on the people if he felt like
it. Usually he was good-natured. But, Moise, go on and tell about how
the fox got his mark."
Moise, assuming a little additional dignity, as became an Indian
teller of stories, now went on with his tale.
"Listen, I speak!" he began. "One tam, long ago, Wiesacajac, he'll be
sit all alone by a lake off north of this river. Wiesacajac, he'll
been hongree, but he'll not be mad. He'll be laugh, an' talk by
heemself an' have good tam, because he'll just keel himself some nice
fat goose.
"Now, Wiesacajac, he'll do the way the people do, an' he'll go for
roast this goose in the sand, under the ashes where he'll make his
fire. He'll take this goose an' bury heem so, all cover' up with ashes
an' coals--like this, you see--but he'll leave the two leg of those
foots stick up through the ground where the goose is bury.
"Wiesacajac he'll feel those goose all over with his breast-bone, an'
he'll say, 'Ah, ha! he'll been fat goose; bimeby he'll be good for
eat.' But he'll know if you watch goose he'll not get done. So bimeby
Wiesacajac he'll walk off away in the wood for to let those goose get
brown in the ashes. This'll be fine day--_beau temps_--an' he'll be
happy, for he'll got meat in camp. So bimeby he'll sit down on log an'
look at those sky an' those wind, an' maybe he'll light his pipe, I
don't know, me.
"Now about this tam some red fox he'll be lie down over those ridge
an' watch Wiesacajac an' those goose. This fox he'll be hongree, too,
for he'll ain't got no goose. He'll been thief, too, all same like
every fox. So he'll see Wiesacajac walk off in woods, an' he'll smell
aroun' an' he'll sneak down to the camp where those goose will be with
his feet stick out of ashes.
"Those thief of fox he'll dig up the fat goose of Wiesacajac, an'
tase' it, an' find it ver' good. He'll ron off in the woods with the
goose an' eat it all up, all 'cept the foots an' the leg-bones. Then
the fox he'll sneak back to the fire once more, an' he'll push the
dirt back in the hole, an' he'll stick up these foots an' the
leg-bones just like they was before, only there don't been no goose
under those foots now, because he'll eat up the goose.
"'Ah, ha!' says Mr. Fox then, 'I'm so fat I must go sleep now.' So
he'll go off in woods a little way an' he'll lie down, an' he'll go to
sleep.
"Bimeby Wiesacajac he'll look at the sun an' the wind plenty long, an'
he'll got more hongree. So he'll come back to camp an' look for his
goose. He'll take hol' of those foots that stick up there, an' pull
them up, but the foots come loose! So he'll dig in the sand an' ashes,
an' he'll not found no goose.
"'Ah, ha!' say Wiesacajac then. He'll put his finger on his nose an'
think. Then he'll see those track of fox in the sand. 'Ah, ha!' he'll
say again. 'I'll been rob by those fox. Well, we'll see about that.'
"Wiesacajac, he'll follow the trail to where this fox is lie fast
asleep; but all fox he'll sleep with one eye open, so this fox he'll
hear Wiesacajac an' see him come, an' he'll get up an' ron. But he'll
be so full of goose that inside of hondred yards, maybe feefty yards,
Wiesacajac he'll catch up with him an' pick him up by the tail.
"'Now I have you, thief!' he'll say to the fox. 'You'll stole my
goose. Don't you know that is wrong? I show you now some good manners,
me.'
"So Wiesacajac, he'll carry those fox down to the fire. He's plenty
strong, but he don't keel those fox. He's only going to show heem a
lesson. So he'll poke up the fire an' put on some more wood, then
he'll take the fox by the end of the tail an' the back of his neck,
an' he'll hold heem down over the fire till the fire scorch his back
an' make heem smoke. Then the fox he'll beg, an' promise not to do
that no more.
"'I suppose maybe you'll not keep your promise,' says Wiesacajac, 'for
all foxes they'll steal an' lie. But this mark will stay on you so all
the people can tell you for a thief when they see you. You must carry
it, an' all your children, so long as there are any foxes of your
familee.'
"The fox he'll cry, an' he'll roll on the groun', but those black mark
she'll stay.
"An' she'll stay there till now," repeated Moise. "An' all the tam,
those fox he'll be 'shamed for look a man in the face. All the tam you
find cross fox, he'll be black where Wiesacajac hold heem over the
fire, with his back down, but the end of his tail will be white,
because there is where Wiesacajac had hold of heem on one end, an' his
front will be white, too, same reason, yes, heem. Whatever Wiesacajac
did was done because he was wise an' strong. Since then all cross fox
have shown the mark. I have spoken."
Moise now looked around at his young listeners to see how they liked
the story.
"That's what I call a pretty good story," said John. "If I had one
more trout I believe I could go to bed."
"Do you know what time it is?" asked Alex, smiling.
"No," said Rob. "Why, it's almost midnight," he added, as he looked at
his watch.
"We've made a long day of it," said Alex, "almost too long. We don't
want to be in too big a hurry."
"How far do you think we've come, Alex?" asked Jesse. "It seemed like
a long way to me."
"Well I don't know exactly, Mr. Jess," said Alex, "because there are
no roads in this country, you see, and we have to guess. But it must
have been about noon when we got out of the last lake after we
finished fishing. We've doubled on the portage, which made that
something like a mile, and I suppose took about an hour. We fished
about an hour, and it took us about an hour to clear out the little
creek and go through a mile or so down to the main river. We've been
running seven or eight hours pretty steadily. Maybe we've come thirty
or forty miles, I don't know."
"Well, I know I'm tired," said John, "and I can't even eat another
trout."
VIII
A HUNT FOR BIGHORN
Alex allowed the boys to sleep late next morning, and the sun was
shining warmly when at length they turned out of their tent and went
down to the river for their morning bath. Heartily as they had eaten
the night before, they seemed still hungry enough to enjoy the hearty
breakfast which Moise had ready for them at the fire.
"Well, Alex, what's the programme for to-day?" asked Rob; "are we
going on down, or shall we stop for a hunt?"
"Whichever you like," answered Alex. "We're maybe getting into heavier
water now, so I suppose we ought to be a little more careful about how
we run down without prospecting a little."
"How would it be for some of us to go down along the bank and do a
little scouting?" asked John.
"A very good plan," agreed Alex, "and Moise might do that while we
others are doing something else."
"Oh, you mean about our hunt," broke in Rob. "Now, we were speaking
about bears and sheep. We don't want to break the game laws, you
know."
"Let me see your map, Mr. Rob," said Alex. "I told you we'd talk over
that after a while."
"What's the map got to do with game laws, Alex?"
"A great deal, as I'll show you. You see, in all this upper country
the laws made down at Ottawa and Edmonton govern, just as if we lived
right in that country. We keep the game laws the same as any other
laws. At the same time, the government is wise, and knows that men in
this far-off country have to live on what the country produces. If the
people could not kill game when they found it they would all starve.
So the law is that there is no restriction on killing game--that is,
any kind of game except beaver and buffalo--north of latitude 55 deg."
"Well, what's that got to do with our hunt?" asked Rob.
"I was just going to explain, if you will let me see your map. As near
as I can tell by looking at the lines of latitude on it, we must have
been just about latitude fifty-five degrees at the place where we
started yesterday. But we have been running north very strongly thirty
or forty miles. While I can't tell exactly where we are, I'm very
positive that we are at this camp somewhere north of fifty-five
degrees. In that case there is no law against our killing what we
like, if we let the beaver alone; for of course, the buffalo are all
gone from this country long ago."
"Now, I wouldn't have thought of that," said Rob, "and I'm very glad
that you have figured it out just that way. We agree with you that a
fellow ought to keep the game laws even when he is away from the
towns. In some of the States in the earlier days they used to have
laws allowing a man to kill meat if he needed it, no matter what time
of year. But people killed at all times, until there wasn't much left
to kill."
"It ought to be a good hunting country here," went on Alex, "for I
don't think many live here or hunt here."
"Well," said Rob, with a superior air, "we don't much care for black
bear. Grizzlies or bighorns--"
"Have you never killed a bighorn?"
"No, none of us ever has. They have plenty of them up in Alaska, and
very good ones, and white sheep also, and white goats sometimes, and
all sorts of bears and moose and things. We've never hunted very much
except when we were on Kadiak Island. We can all shoot, though. And
we'd like very much to make a hunt here. There isn't any hurry,
anyway."
"S'pose you'll got some of those sheep," ventured Moise, "he'll be
best for eat of anything there is--no meat better in the world than
those beeghorn."
"Well," said John, "why don't we start out to get one? This looks like
a good country, all right."
"That suits me," added Rob. "Jess, do you want to go along?"
Alex looked at Jesse before he answered, and saw that while he was
tall for his age, he was rather thin and not so strong as the other
boys, being somewhat younger.
"I think Mr. Jess would better stay in camp," said he. "He can help
Moise finish drying his fish, and maybe they can go down and have a
look at the rapids from the shore. We others can go over east for a
hunt. I've a notion that the mountains that way are better."
"It looks like a long way over," said Rob. "Can we make it out and
back to camp to-day?"
"Hardly; I think we'll have to lie out at least one night, maybe more,
to be sure of getting the sheep."
"Fine!" said John; "that suits me. We wouldn't need to take along any
tent, just a blanket and a little something to eat--I suppose we could
carry enough." He looked so longingly at Moise's pots and pans that
everybody laughed at him once more.
"All right," said Alex, "we'll go."
The old hunter now busied himself making ready their scant supplies.
He took a little bag of flour, with some salt, one or two of the
cooked fish which remained, and a small piece of bacon. These he
rolled up in a piece of canvas, which he placed on his pack-straps. He
asked the boys if they thought they could get on with a single
blanket, and when they agreed to this he took Rob's blanket, folded
it, rolled it also in canvas, and tied it all tight with a rope, the
ends of his tump-strap sticking out, serving him for his way of
packing, which was to put the tump-strap across his head.
"It's not a very big bundle," said he. "You young gentlemen need take
nothing but your rifles and your ammunition. I don't need any blanket
for a night or so. What little we've got will seem heavy enough before
we get up there in the hills."
"Now, Moise, listen," he added. "You're to stay in this camp until we
get back, no matter how long it is, and you're not to be uneasy if we
don't come back for two or three days. Don't go out in the boats with
Mr. Jess until we get back. Give him three meals a day, and finish up
drying your trout."
"All right," answered Moise, "I'll stay here all summer. I'll hope you
get beeg sheep."
Alex turned, and after the fashion of the Indians, did not say good-by
when he left camp, but stalked off. The two boys, rifle in hand,
followed him, imitating his dignity and not even looking back to wave
a farewell to Jesse, who stood regarding them rather ruefully.
They had a stiff climb up the first ridge, which paralleled the
stream, when the boys found their rifles quite heavy enough to carry.
After a time, however, they came out at the top of a high plateau,
where the undergrowth was not very thick and tall spruces stood more
scattered. They could now see beyond them some high, bare ridges, that
rose one back of the other, with white-topped peaks here and there.
"Good sheep country," said Alex, after a time. "I think good for
moose, and maybe caribou, too, lower down."
"Yes, and good for something else," cried Rob, who was running on a
little in advance as the others stopped. "Look here!"
"There he goes in his moccasins," said Alex. "Grizzly!"
"Yes, and a good big one, I should think," said Rob. "Not as big as a
Kadiak bear; but see, his foot sinks a long way into the ground, and
it's not very soft, either. Come on, Alex, let's go after him."
Alex walked over and examined the trail for a little while.
"Made yesterday morning," he commented, "and traveling steadily. No
telling where he is by this time, Mr. Rob. When an old white-face
starts off he may go forty miles. Again, we might run across him or
some other one in the first berry patch we come to. It seems to me
surer to go on through with our sheep hunt.
"There's another thing," he added, "about killing a big bear in
here--his hide would weigh fifty to seventy-five pounds, very likely.
Our boats are pretty full now, and we're maybe coming to bad water.
There's good bear hunting farther north and east of here, and it seems
to me, if you don't mind, that it might be wiser for us to hunt sheep
here and bear somewhere else."
"That sounds reasonable," said John. "Besides, we've never seen wild
bighorn."
"Come ahead then," said Rob, reluctantly leaving the big bear trail.
"I'd just like to follow that old fellow out, though."
"Never fear," said Alex, "you shall follow one just as big before this
trip is over!"
Alex now took up his pack again, and began to move up toward the
foothills of the mountains, following a flat little ravine which wound
here and there, at no place very much covered with undergrowth. At
last they reached the edges of bare country, where the sun struck them
fully. By this time the boys were pretty tired, for it was far past
noon, and they had not stopped for lunch. John was very hungry, but
too brave to make any complaint. He was, however, feeling the effects
of the march considerably.
"Well," said he, as they finally sat down upon a large rock, "I don't
see any signs of sheep up in here, and I don't think this looks like a
very good game country. There isn't anything for the sheep to eat."