Wiesacajac, the spirit that goes aroun' in the woods. Now in the fur
country east of the mountains is a lake where a rock is on the shore,
split in two piece, an' the people call that the Split-Stone Lake.
Listen, I speak. I tell now how the lake he's got that name.
"Wiesacajac, he'll make hont sometime in that country, an' he'll come
on a camp where all the men are out honting. Only two peoples is left
in camp, same like you leave us two peoples here when you go hont. But
these two peoples is little, one boy, one girl. The mens an' womens
all go hont in the woods and there is no meat in camp at all. The
children were not old for hont or for feesh. Their papa an' their
mamma say, 'Stay here.' So they stay an' wait. They have wait many
days. Pretty soon now they'll gone dead for starve so long.
"Now Wiesacajac, he'll come an' stan' by the fire, an' see those
little peoples. 'Oh, Wiesacajac,' they'll say, 'we're ver' hongree. We
have not eat for many days. We do not think our peoples will come back
no more. We'll not know what for do.'
"Now, Wiesacajac, he'll been always kin'. 'Oh, now, my childrens,'
he'll say, 'this is bad news what you give me, ver' bad indeed. You'll
make me cry on you, I'll been so sorry for you. You're on this lake
where the win' comes, an' the country is bare, an' there is no game.'
"He'll look aroun' an' see nothing in those camp but one piece of
swanskin, ol' dry swanskin, all eat clean of meat. Then he'll look
out on the lake, an' he'll see a large flock of swans stay there
where no man can come. Those swan will know the children was hongree,
but they'll not like for get killed theirselves.
"Wiesacajac he'll say, 'My children, why do you starve when there's
meat there in front of you?'
"Those was child of a honter. 'Yes,' said those boy, 'what use is that
meat to us? It's daylight. You know ver' well you'll not can come up
to the swans.'
"'Ah, ha! Was that so?' said Wiesacajac. 'Let me show you somethings,
then.'
"So Wiesacajac, he'll take those ol' swanskin an' put it on hees head.
Then he'll walk down in the lake an' sink down till just the head and
breast of those swanskin will show on the water. Wiesacajac, he'll be
good honter, too. He'll sweem aroun' in the lake foolish, but all tam
he'll come closer to those swan, an' closer. Those swan she'll be wise
bird, an' they'll saw heem an' they'll say, 'There's one of us that
we'll not miss--what'll he doing out there?'
"Then they begin to sweem toward Wiesacajac, an' Wiesacajac begin to
sweem toward them. Bimeby he'll been right among 'em. Then these two
hongree boy an' girl on the camp they'll holler out to each other,
for they'll see one swan after another flap his wing an' jump for a
fly, but then fall back on water, for he'll can't fly at all.
"Wiesacajac, he'll have some _babiche_--some hide string, aroun' hees
waist, an' he'll took it now an' tie the feet of all those swan
together, so all they'll can do is to flap hees wing an' scream an'
blow their horn like the swan do. At last he'll got them all tied
fast--the whole flock. But he'll can't hold so many swan down on the
water. Those swan will all begin to trumpet an' fly off together, an'
they'll carry Wiesacajac with them. Now he'll let them fly until they
come right near where those two hongree boy an' girl is sit, an' going
for starve. Then he'll drop down an' tie the end of hees _babiche_ to
a strong bush. _Voila!_ Those whole flock of swan is tie' fast to
camp. None but Wiesacajac can do this thing.
"'Now my childrens,' say Wiesacajac, kin'ly, to those boy an' girl,
'you see, there's plenty of meat in your camp. Go now, cook an' eat.'
"So now those children go an' keel a swan an' skin it, an' get it
ready for cook. By this time Wiesacajac he'll done make the fire.
He'll not want to set woods on fire, so he'll build it by those big
rocks which always stood by that lake. Here they'll cook the swan an'
eat all they want, same like we do the sheep meat here to-night. Those
two childrens he'll wish his parent was both there. He'll say, they'll
not be hongree no more never. He'll put some meat on a leaf for those
ol' people when they come back.
"Well, Wiesacajac, he'll say bimeby, 'Now I mus' go. When those parent
of yours come back, an' they see those swan, they'll not go for
believe unless I leave a sign. To show them an' the other people who
has been here, an' to show all the people who hont that it is wise
never to get discourage', but always to keep on trying when you are
hongree or in trouble, I make some mark on this place, me.'
"So now Wiesacajac he'll go down to the water, an' he'll come back
with his two hands full of those water. Of course, you know Wiesacajac
he'll been much taller than any mans. So he'll stoop just this way,
one leg each side of those two rocks, right at this place. An' from
his two han' he'll let fall those water on those hot stone. Now, you
know, if you'll put water on hot stone, he'll split. These two stone
she'll split wide open from top to bottom.
"You can see those stone there now. All the peoples know them, an'
call them the Split-Stone Lake all the tam. An' they all know
Wiesacajac was there, an' help the two childrens, an' split those
stone to leave it for a mark.
"I have finish."
"That certainly is a good story," said Jesse. "I like those stories
you tell up here, for I've never heard any just like them. It makes
you feel like you were out of doors, doesn't it, fellows?"
"Yes," said Rob, "but I'd like to ask you, Alex, do you really believe
in all those stories about spirits--the Indian spirits? You know, you
were telling me that you went to church."
"Yes," said Alex, "I do. The Company likes to have us go to church,
and when we're around the post we do. My mother was baptized, although
she was an Indian woman. My father taught me to read the Bible. I
believe a great deal as you do. But somewhere in me I'm part Injun."
XI
LESSONS IN WILD LIFE
"Well, Alex," said John, the morning after the sheep hunt, as they sat
about the fire after breakfast, "it doesn't look as though we'd saved
much weight."
"How do you mean, Mr. John?"
"Well, you said we couldn't kill any grizzlies because the skins were
too heavy. It seems to me that sheep heads are just as heavy as
grizzly heads."
"That's so," said Alex, "but the sheep were good to eat, and we
couldn't leave the heads in the hills after we had killed them. We'll
try to get them down in the canoe somehow. The sheep meat has been
very useful, and I wish we had more of it. We'll eat it almost all up
in this camp, I'm thinking."
"I suppose we'd better. That reminds me of a story my Uncle Dick told
me," ventured Jesse. "He said he was out fishing with a friend one
time, and they wanted some grasshoppers for bait, and hadn't any way
to carry them. They had a jar of marmalade, so they sat down and ate
all the marmalade, and then they had a good place to keep their
grasshoppers. I suppose if we eat all the meat up, we'll have a place
for the heads."
They all laughed at Jesse's story, but John admitted he would be sorry
when all the bighorn mutton was gone, declaring it to be the best meat
he had ever eaten. Rob expressed wonder at the way the meat was
disappearing.
"I remember, though," said he, "that Sir Alexander Mackenzie tells how
much meat his men would eat in camp. They had a party of ten men and a
dog one day, and they brought in two hundred and fifty pounds of elk
meat. They had had a hearty meal at one o'clock that afternoon, but
they put on the kettles and boiled and ate meat that night, and
roasted the rest on sticks, and by ten o'clock the next day they
didn't have any meat in camp! What do you think about that?"
"Maybe so to-night, maybe so to-morrow no more sheep!" grinned Moise,
with his mouth still full.
"We'll have to hunt as we go on down," said Alex. "We'll be in good
game country almost all the way."
Under the instructions of Alex the boys now finished the preparation
of the sheep heads and scalps, paring off all the meat they could
from the bones, and cleaning the scalps, which they spread out to dry
after salting them carefully.
"I was out with a naturalist one trip," said Alex, "and he collected
all sorts of little animals and snakes, and that sort of thing. When
we wanted to clean the skeleton of a mouse or a snake, we used to
put it in an ant-hill. There were many ants, and in a couple of
weeks they'd picked the bones white and clean, as if they'd been
sand-papered. I suppose we haven't time for that sort of thing now,
though."
"Why couldn't we boil the meat off?" suggested Rob.
"A very good plan for a skull," said Alex, "excepting for a bear
skull. You see, if you put the head of a bear in boiling water, the
tusks will always split open later on. With the bones of the sheep's
head, it will not make so much difference. But we couldn't get the
horns off yet awhile--they'll have to dry out before they will slip
from the pith, and the best way is not to take them off at all. If we
keep on scraping and salting we'll keep our heads, all right."
"How about the hides?" asked John, somewhat anxiously.
"Well, sheep hides were never very much valued among our people,"
replied Alex. "In the mountain tribes below here the women used to
make very white, soft leather for their dresses out of sheep hides.
The hair is coarse and brittle, however, and although it will do for a
little while as a bed, I'm afraid you young gentlemen will throw away
the hides when you finish the trip."
"Well, all right," said John. "We won't throw them away just yet.
Let's spread them out and tan them. What's the best way to do that?"
"The Injuns always stake out a hide, on the ground or on a frame,
flesh side up," said Alex. "Then they take one of their little
scrapers and pare all the meat off. That's the main thing, and that is
the slowest work. When you get down to the real hide, it soon dries
out and doesn't spoil. You can tan a light hide with softsoap, or salt
and alum. Indeed, the Injuns had nothing of that sort in their
tanning--they'd scrape a hide and dry it, then spread some brains on
it, work in the brains and dry it and rub it, and last of all, smoke
it. In that way they got their hides very soft, and after they were
smoked they would always work soft in case they got wet, which isn't
the case with white man's leather, which is tanned by means of acids
and things of that kind."
"I have tanned little squirrel hides, and ground-hog hides, and
wildcat skins," said Rob, "many a time. It isn't any trouble if you
once get the meat all scraped off. That seems to be what spoils a
hide."
"In keeping all our valuable furs," said Alex, "we never touch them
with salt or alum. We just stretch them flesh side out, and let them
dry in the shade, not close to a fire. This keeps the life all in the
fur. Alum makes the hair brittle and takes away the luster. For a big
bear hide, if I were far back in the mountains, I would put lots of
salt on it and fold it up, and let it stay away for a day. Then I
would unroll it and drain it off, and salt it all over again; tamp
salt down into the ears, nose, eyes, and feet, then roll it up again
and tie it tight, with the fur side out. Bear hides will keep all
right that way if you haven't sunshine enough to dry them. The best
way to keep a hide, though, is simply to scrape it clean and dry it in
the sun, and after that fold it. It will never spoil then."
"Alex," ventured Moise, laughing, "you'll talk just like my old woman
about tan hides. Those business is not for mans."
"That's true," said Alex, smiling. "In the old times, when we had
buffalo, the women always tanned the hides. Hard work enough it was,
too, with so heavy and coarse a hide. Now they tan the moose hides.
I'll show you, young gentlemen, lower down this river near the camping
places on the shore spruce-trees cut into three-cornered shape. You
might not know what that was for. It was done so that the women could
rub their moose hides around these angles and corners while they were
making them soft. They make fine moose leather, too--although I
suppose we'd have to wait a good while before we could get Moise to
tan one in that way!"
"What makes them use brains in tanning the hide?" asked Jesse.
"Only for the grease there is in them," said Alex. "It takes some sort
of grease to soften up a hide after it has been dried. The Injuns
always said they could tan a hide with the brains of the animal.
Sometimes in tanning a buffalo hide, however, they would have marrow
and grease and scraps thrown into a kettle with the brains. I think
the main secret of the Injun tanning was the amount of hard work put
in on rubbing the hide. That breaks up the fiber and makes it soft.
"But now, Moise," resumed Alex, getting up and filling his pipe, "I
think it is about time we went down and had a look at those rapids
below the camp. We've got to get through there somehow before long."
"I don't like this water in here at all," said Jesse, looking
troubled. "I could hardly sleep last night on account of the noises it
made--it sounded just like glass was being splintered up under the
water."
"That's gravel, or small rocks, slipping along on the bottom in the
current, I suppose," said Alex, "but after all this is not nearly so
bad a river as the Fraser or the Columbia--you ought to see the old
Columbia in high water! I'm thinking we'd have our own troubles
getting down there in boats as small as these. In a deep river which
is very fast, and which has a rough bottom, all sorts of unaccountable
waves and swells will come up from below, just when you don't expect
them."
"These rapeed in here, she'll been all right," said Moise. "No trouble
to ron heem."
"Well, we'll not take any chances," said Alex, "and we'll in no case
do anything to alarm our young friends."
He turned now, and, followed by Moise, crossed the neck of the bend
and passed on down the river some distance. The boys, following more
slowly around the curve of the beach, finally saw both Alex and Moise
poised on some high rocks and pointing at the wild water which
stretched below them for the distance of two or three hundred yards.
Moise, who seemed to be more savage than Alex, made a wild figure as
he stood gesticulating, a red handkerchief bound over his long, black
hair, and his red sash holding in place the ragged remnants of his
trousers. To the boys it seemed sure that the boats could not get
through such water at all, but to their surprise the two men seemed
not in the least concerned when at length they returned to the camp.
"It's a little rough," said Alex, "but there seems to be a good
channel out in the middle, plenty of water. We'll run the boats
through all right without any trouble. We'll go through light, and
then portage the camp stuff across the bend after we get the boats
below the rapids. Come on then, young gentlemen, and help us get
ready. It may be interesting to you to see your first piece of real
white water, although it isn't very bad.
"As I figure it, then, Mr. Rob," continued Alex, "we ought to have
rather better water below here for a little while. What does your map
say about that?"
"Well," answered Rob, "it's pretty hard to tell exactly, but taking
the stories of Fraser and Mackenzie together, we ought to be here
about one hundred and fifty miles above the mouth of the Finlay. By
to-morrow night, if we hurry, we ought to be at or below the McLeod
Lake outlet. Dr. Macoun says in his government report that it is easy
running in the late season from McLeod to the Finlay, about eighty
miles; and I saw a letter once from Mr. Hussey, a friend of Uncle
Dick's, who made this trip lately, and he said there was not much bad
water between the lake and the mouth of the Finlay. Below there--look
out, that's all!
"It took the Mackenzie party six or eight days' plugging to get from
there up to the carrying place," he added, "but we're going downhill
instead of uphill. I should think we would have alternate stretches of
quiet water here and there, but no very rough water from here on down
for a while. With our small boats we probably cannot go so fast for a
while now as they did with their big canoes. They could run bang
through a big rapid where we'd have to portage."
"Well," said Alex, "I suggest that we spend the rest of this day in
camp here, run the two canoes through, sleep here to-night, then
portage below the rapids to-morrow morning and make a straight run
from there down. We don't want to take too many chances."
"That's all right," said Rob, "and we'll help you pack the canoes."
The men did not put very heavy loads in the canoes, but they took the
sheep heads, and most of the heavier camp supplies, putting about half
of these each in the _Mary Ann_ and the _Jaybird_, themselves taking
the _Mary Ann_ for their first trip through the rapids.
While they were busy finishing their loading, the boys ran on down
around the bend and got ready to see the first canoe take the rapids.
When Jesse got fully within the sound and sight of the rolling, noisy
water which now lay before them, he was very pale.
"What would we do, Rob," asked he, "if the boat should be lost out
there--we couldn't ever get out of here alive."
"I don't think there is that much danger, Jess," answered Rob. "But if
there should be an accident, we have one boat left, and we'd not try
to run her through. We'd let her down the edge of the rapids on a rope
the best we could, a little at a time. That's what Alex would do now
if he thought there was any real danger."
"Here they come!" shouted John. All three boys scrambled up on a high,
jutting rock, where they could see the course of the boat.
The _Mary Ann_ swept around the curve gently and steadily, caught in
the rapid down-set of the current. Moise was in the bow, Alex at the
stern paddle, and both the men looked steadily ahead and not at either
side. They saw the boat seemed to tip down at a sharp angle, but still
go on steadily. Alex was following the long V which ran down in the
mid-channel stream, on either side of which were heavy rocks and
sharp, abrupt falls in the water. At the foot of this smooth strip
they saw the bow of the boat shoot up into the air, then drop down to
a more even keel. From that time on the _Mary Ann_ was swept down
swiftly, jumping up and down, part of the time almost hidden out of
sight, and, as they thought, swamped in the heavy seas. To their
delight, however, they saw the little craft emerge at the foot of the
white water after a while and, taking advantage of the back current,
swing gently alongside and up the shore toward where they stood at the
foot of the main cascade. Both the men were smiling at their
excitement.
"Well, what do you think about that?" asked John, in wonder. "I was
sure they were gone, but they don't seem to care at all."
On the contrary, Moise seemed to be very much pleased with the
experience. Alex was smoking quietly. Neither said much when finally
they came ashore close where the boys stood.
"That was great work," said Rob. "It was beautiful!"
"These boat she'll not tip over," said Moise calmly. "She's good boat.
I s'pose could carry through maybe a hondred ton or so!"
"Well, maybe not _that_ much!" smiled Alex, "but we've proved that the
channel out there is practicable. We'll go up now and bring down the
other boat. First we'll put this one high up on the bank, so that no
rise in the stream can take it away, because we're apt to need these
boats before we get through."
Suiting the action to the word, the two _voyageurs_ now went back to
the camp, and presently the boys once more saw the nodding and dipping
little craft come around the bend. The _Jaybird_ came through with
quite as good fortune as had the _Mary Ann_. And soon the two canoes,
lightly loaded, were lying side by side on the beach below the rolling
water.
"That's how we'll did done it!" said Moise. "S'pose water will be bad,
go where he'll ain't be so bad. No use for get tip over. S'pose he'll
be too bad, we'll take a rope an' let those boat down little bit to a
time."
"Well," said John, "we don't want to show the white feather, but I
suppose it's just as well that you should take the boats through a bad
place, and not trust to us--we might get rattled in the wrong place
out there."
"Yes," said Rob, "it's better to be too careful than not careful
enough. I can see now what the boats will do, however, and I have more
confidence than I have had at any time about our getting through the
journey all right."
"I can't quite figure out, Mr. Rob," said Alex, "just where we are.
The maps don't seem to look like the country, or the country like the
maps."
"According to my reckoning," Rob answered, "we're now about where
Mackenzie was on June 9th. The day before that--which will be the day
after this as we run down the stream--they had sight of a high, white
mountain in the evening, off to the east, and there were mountains and
valleys in full sight to the south. The valley was wide. That answers
pretty closely to the description of this country here. In the
morning of that day--which will be later on in the day for us as we
go down--they saw a high, white bank on the east. We haven't passed
any such bank. They made seventeen miles of this water coming up. If
we can locate that white bank, we ought to strike slacker water below
there and then faster water still farther below, according to their
story. On June 6th the water was so high and heavy that they had to
pull up by the branches of trees, because they couldn't paddle or pole
or track. As they were three days in making something like thirty
miles, we ought to expect pretty fast work the next day or so below
here. But of course they had high water, and we haven't."
"That seems to me good reasoning," said Alex. "We'll take it slow and
easy, and if we hear a bad rapid we'll go ashore and look it out first
before we run it. Not that I know even now just where that stream
comes in from McLeod."
"We could find out by exploring," said Rob, "but I don't think we need
do that. Let's go through on our own as much as we can. We want to
stop when we get down into some good bear country anyhow--as soon as
Moise and John have eaten up enough pork to make room in the boat!"
"They're making such a hole in the bacon now," said Alex, "that I'm
afraid we'll have to stop and hunt somewhere to-morrow."
"That'll suit us all right," boasted John. "Rob and I will stroll out
and kill you almost anything you want to-morrow evening."
They all returned now to the camp, which had been left on the bar
around the bend, and passed the night there.
"We'll have to be good _voyageurs_ from now on," said Alex, when they
turned in for the night, "and that means getting on the trail by four
o'clock in the morning."
XII
WILD COUNTRY AND WILDERNESS WAYS
By daylight of the following morning the boys were busy breaking camp
and getting their luggage across the bend to the place where they had
left the boats below the rapids. They found no very bad water for some
little distance, although occasionally there were stretches with steep
rocks where the water rippled along very noisily. Again they would
meet wide bends where the paddles were useful.
They still were in a wide valley. Far to the east lay the main range
of the Rockies, but the mountains were much lower than they are
farther to the south. They kept a sharp outlook on both banks, trying
to find some landmark which would tell them where they were, and at
last, indeed, they found a high, white bank on the right-hand side,
which they supposed to have been the one mentioned in the Mackenzie
journal, although it was not exactly where Rob's map said it ought to
be. They paused at this place for their first rest, and occupied
themselves for a time figuring out, each according to his notion, a
map of the country on ahead, which all admitted now was entirely
strange to them.
Alex and Moise agreed pretty closely in their description of the
country below the Finlay, for they had friends who had made that trip
numbers of times. As to the country between this place and the mouth
of the Finlay, Rob seemed to be deferred to more than any one else,
because he had read carefully and mapped out the country in accordance
with the Fraser and Mackenzie journals and such narratives of later
travelers as he could find, surveyors, traders, and prospectors.