farther we'd make say fifteen miles, and that ought to bring us about
to the spot where Mackenzie climbed the tree to look out over the
country. As near as I can get at it, that was pretty near the real
divide between the eastern and western waters--that is to say, not far
from where the small stream leads back to McLeod Lake, and the McLeod
Lake portage across to the Fraser, the way the fur-traders went later
on. That's the Giscombe portage route. It's a lot easier than the one
we've taken, too."
"Well, I don't see how they ever got boats up this way at all," said
Jesse, looking with wonder at the swiftly moving current which passed
at their feet.
"And just to think," said John, "they didn't know where they were at
all, even as much as we do now; and we're pretty much lost, if it
comes to that."
"Mackenzie, she'll been good man," said Moise. "Maybe so most as good
man like my wife hees onkle, Pete Fraser."
"Well," said Alex, "we can drop down a way farther and if we don't
meet bad water we'll get into camp early."
"'Drop down' just about describes it," said Rob. "It's like sliding
downhill on a sled, almost, isn't it? I'll know more about the making
of a big river than I ever did before."
None the less the boys, who had gained confidence with every hour in
the care of these skilled boatmen, felt less and less fear as they
passed on down the sometimes tumbling and roaring stream which now lay
before them. The water was not really dangerous for some distance now,
and only in two instances did Alex go ashore and line the boats down
at the edge of rapids, although time and again he cautioned Moise,
who was something of a daredevil in the canoe, not to undertake any
run which looked in the least bad. Moise and Rob, of course, retained
their position in the lead boat, the _Mary Ann_.
"I believe I'll get the hang of it after a while," said Rob, as they
paused at the head of a rapid lying ahead of the two canoes. "The main
thing is to map out your course before you go through, and then hang
to it. You can't take any too sudden turns, and you have to be careful
not to strike on a rock--that's the most dangerous thing, after all,
except the big swells at the foot of a fast drop."
Sometimes, when the shore was strewn with rocks alongside a rapid
which interrupted the passing down of the boats, all of the party
would be as much in the water as out, wading, shoving and pulling at
the boats. They were pretty well chilled when, well on into the
afternoon, Alex signified that it was time to make camp for the day.
"Better get out dry socks and moccasins, young gentlemen," said he.
"You're not quite as tough as Moise yonder."
Moise, happy and care-free, had not as yet started to make a fire, but
was sitting on a rock playing earnestly at a jews'-harp which he
carried in his pocket.
Jesse, idly prowling around in the "possible bag" in which Moise
carried his personal belongings, tipped out on the ground what looked
to be a small chopping-bowl, or wooden dish. "What's that, Moise?"
said he, "and what are all these sticks tied up in a bundle here?"
"I suppose you'll not know what's those," said Moise.
Jesse shook his head.
"That's what Injun calls his game," said Moise, laughing.
"His game--what's that?"
"Those game she'll been call platter game. All tam in winter Injun
will play those game in hees house--he'll play it here hondred year,
two hondred year, I s'pose maybe."
"I know!" broke in Rob, eagerly. "Mackenzie tells about that very
thing. He says that two of his Indians got to fighting over a game of
platter at the fort down below here. I wonder if that's the same
thing!"
"It is," said Alex, "precisely the same. The Crees all play this,
although so far as I know it isn't known east of Lake Superior. Show
him how to play, Moise."
Moise now spread down one of the blankets on the ground and took his
seat cross-legged at the side of it, motioning to the boys to sit
opposite. He now untied the greasy rag which wrapped up the bundle of
sticks, and produced from it eight little pieces of copper, disks, red
on one side and tinned or galvanized on the other. These he put in the
pan or platter, and shaking them together, tossed them into the air,
catching them again in the bowl, which he thumped on the blanket just
as they fell.
"S'pose four white an' four red'll come out," said he, "an' I'm play'
with Alex. He'll give me eight stick now, for I'll win. So. Try heem
again."
This time the little disks fell irregularly, and Moise expressed his
disgust.
"Five one kin', three other kin'; no good!" said he. "She'll have to
come up two, four, seex, eight--the hard way for heem to come is all
tam the way he'll win. You see?" he continued on shaking and thumping
the bowl and catching the little disks, and as he won or lost, Alex
gravely handed him the little sticks, or counters, or received them
back from him as the case might be.
This ancient gambling device of the Indians was very simple and the
game was soon learned, but the knack of catching the disks in the pan
proved quite difficult. John undertook it, with the result that he
spilled every one of them out when they fell in the shallow bowl, much
to the amusement of Moise.
"You'll not been Injun," said Moise. "If any of those pieces he'll fly
out of pan, then you have to give up the pan to the next man. You'll
make a loss that tam. All tam Injun he'll play those platter game in
the house at night," continued Moise. "Two, four man, she'll sit on
blanket an' play many hour. His woman she'll cook meat on the fire.
Another man he'll sit an' poun' the drum. You'll see my drum, I
s'pose."
He now fished out from under his bed one of the singular Cree drums, a
shallow, one-sided circle of bent wood covered with tightly stretched
moose skin. He showed them how the Indian drummer held this, straining
it tight with thongs stretched from finger to thumb, and making the
music by drumming with the fingers of the other hand.
"Injun he'll use those drum sometime to pass tam," said Moise.
"Sometam he'll use heem for pray. S'pose I'll want ver' much for get
moose--I'll play on heem an' seeng. S'pose I want for get grizzly ver'
much--then I seeng _ver_' hard for get grizzly. S'pose you'll seeng
an' play, always you'll get those game, sure."
"I don't see what we'd do without you, Moise," said John, who was
continually rummaging around in Moise's ditty-bag. "For instance,
what's this funny-looking knife you have here?"
"That's worth noticing," said Alex. "You young gentlemen ought to get
you one of those knives each before you leave the country. That's what
we call a crooked knife--you see, the end of the blade is turned up."
"How do you use that sort of thing?" asked John, curiously.
"As any native Injun always uses a knife," rejoined Alex. "You see how
the handle is put on--well, an Injun never whittles away from him, but
always pulls the knife toward him. You'll see, too, that he never
sharpens a blade on both sides, but puts all the bevel on one
side--look at my big hunting-knife here--it's only sharpened on one
side, and the other is perfectly flat."
"Well, what makes Indians do that way?" asked John, wonderingly.
"I don't know," said Alex, "except that they always have done so. You
see, they use files rather than whetstones to sharpen their tools.
Maybe they find it easier to put on an edge in this way. Anyhow, if an
Injun is making a canoe or a pair of snowshoes, or doing any other
whittling work, you will see him use one of these crooked knives, and
he'll always whittle toward him, with his thumb out at the end of the
handle. I don't know who first invented these crooked knives,"
continued Alex, musingly, "but they've always been that way since my
father can remember. As to this big buffalo knife, I suppose the
Northwest Company or the Hudson Bay people invented that. They've been
selling them in the trade for a hundred and fifty years or so."
"I suppose each country has its own tools and its own ways," ventured
Rob.
"Precisely."
"I've been told," Rob went on, "that that's the way the Chinese use a
knife or a saw--they pull it to them instead of pushing it away."
"Well," said Alex, smiling, "some people say that all of us Injuns
came across the narrow salt water far to the northwest. You know, too,
don't you, that the Crees call themselves the First People?"
"They certainly were first in here," assented Rob; "and, as we've said
before, it's hardly fair to call any white man a real discoverer--all
this country was known long before a white man ever set foot in it."
XIII
THE CARIBOU HUNT
The supply of mountain mutton had lessened with alarming rapidity in
this open-air work, which tends to give any man or boy a strong
appetite. Moise looked rather ruefully at the few pieces which he
still had hanging on his meat line near the camp.
"I'll tol' you this sheep she's getting mighty scarce now pretty soon
before long," said he.
"Why not make a hunt, Alex?" asked Rob. "It looks like fairly good
country, and you might be able to get something."
"We might get a bear," said Alex, "or possibly a moose. For all I
know, the buffalo used to come this far back in from the east. It
doesn't look like sheep country just in here, however, because we have
to go too far to get to the mountains."
"How about caribou?"
Alex shook his head. "You mustn't ask me," said he. "This isn't my
country, and I've never been here before, nor seen any man who has
been here. I know there are caribou in British Columbia, far to the
north."
"Mackenzie talks about seeing reindeer in here."
"Yes, I suppose he meant the black-faced caribou of the mountains, and
not the regular barren-ground animal which goes in the big herds. It's
odd, but those early men didn't seem to know all the animals on which
they depended so much. Without doubt Mackenzie called the musk-ox some
sort of buffalo, and he called these mountain caribou the reindeer.
But we might get one for all of that. How would you like to go with me
across the river, Mr. Rob, and make a little hunt?"
"Fine!" assented Rob, eagerly. "But how about the others?"
"I'll tell you, Rob," said John, who, to tell the truth, was just a
little tired from the hard work of the day before; "you and Alex go
across, and after a while Moise will take Jess and me out on this side
a little way back. We'll all meet here this evening."
This plan was agreed to, and in the course of a few moments Alex and
Rob were pushing across the river in the _Mary Ann_, equipped lightly
for their first hunt after some game which Rob was eager to meet
because it was new to him.
Once more they pushed through heavy undergrowth close to the river,
traveled up a rather lofty bank, and found themselves in flatter
country, beyond which at some distance rose some mountains.
"I'll bet you," said Rob, "that this is just about where Mackenzie
climbed the tree to look around--you can't see much from the river
down there, and his men were complaining about the hard work, and he
didn't know where he was. So he climbed a tree to have a look."
"Well, Mr. Rob," said Alex, "if you don't mind, I'll let you do the
climbing, while I sit here and smoke. I'm not quite as light as I once
was."
"All right," said Rob. And, divesting himself of his cartridge-belt
and jacket, a little later he began to make his way up to the topmost
branches of the tall spruce, breaking off the dead limbs as he slowly
advanced upward.
Rob remained aloft for some moments, but at last descended and
rejoined Alex.
"Now, what did you see, Mr. Rob?" inquired the old hunter.
"Well, I don't know," said Rob; "it's hard to figure out exactly, of
course. But Mackenzie talks about high mountains off to the northwest,
and a parallel range of mountains running to the south, with a narrow
valley between. That, of course, must be this river, and as near as I
can tell, it must have been about here that he and Mackay and the
Indian hunters took to the shore to spy out the way."
"And jolly well got lost, too, eh?"
"They certainly did--got lost from their boat for an entire day! I can
imagine how they felt when they didn't know whether the boat was above
them or below them. Mackenzie says the mosquitoes about ate them up.
They sent branches down the river to let the boatmen know they were
above them. It wasn't until night that finally they found the boat was
far below them. I'll warrant they were glad when they got together
again. The truth is, the men were almost ready to turn back and leave
Mackenzie where he was."
"They'd have done that a dozen times but for his courage," said Alex.
"Well, now, what would you do, Mr. Rob, if you should get lost in the
woods or mountains any time?"
"I'd try to keep cool," said Rob, "but I'm not sure that I could. It's
a mighty bad feeling--I know what it is myself. What would you do,
Alex, if you ever got lost in a storm, or anything of that kind?"
"Sit down and build a fire," answered Alex. "Go to sleep, take it
easy, and wait till my mind got cool. Then when you're rested and all
ready to go on, you nearly always know which is the right direction.
You see, an Injun is a good deal like a dog, as Moise would say. But
now suppose I should get separated from you in here--how would you get
back to camp?"
"Well, you see," said Rob, "there is that high mountain on this side
of the river, and there is one right opposite, far off on the east
side. I know our camp is on the line between those two peaks. Of
course I'd know the river was downhill, unless I wandered off over
some other little divide. I'd just simply go downhill as straight as I
could until I hit the river. Of course I couldn't tell, maybe, whether
I was just above or below the camp. But I'd wait to see smoke, and I'd
fire off my rifle, hoping that some one would hear me. Then I think I
would not go very far from that place. I'd sit down and build a smoke,
and wait."
"That would be the best way to do," Alex assented. "But do you know,
simple as that seems, lots of grown men couldn't do it--they'd lose
their heads and be just as apt to go west as east! Many a man has been
lost in the wilderness simply because he got excited and scared and
didn't take it easy. Always remember that whenever you are in a wild
country it isn't as dangerous as it seems to be.
"But come, now," he resumed, "I suppose we must get over in that flat
country and see if we can find any sign of game."
"How do you hunt caribou, Alex? I don't know anything about it."
"That's hard to answer," rejoined the old hunter. "Of course you can
take a trail if you can find it, and if it seems fresh. An Injun hunts
moose by following the trail. But either a moose or a caribou has very
keen scent, and if you follow straight on after them, and don't circle
once in a while and pick up the trail again, you're not apt to come up
with either one or the other. A caribou, however, is a strange
animal--it isn't nearly as wild as a moose or a bighorn. A grizzly
bear has very keen scent but very bad eyes, and I don't suppose a
grizzly can see you half a mile at best. Now, a caribou has good eyes,
ears, and nose, but he hasn't got any head. Sometimes he is very shy,
and sometimes he'll stand and look at you, and let you keep on
shooting. He seems to be full of curiosity, and wants to know what
you're doing.
"We'll work on over a little at a time," he continued, "and maybe if
we skirt around some open meadows or glades we may see some tracks.
Sometimes they come out in places like that to feed or stand around. A
water-hole or little lake, too, is good for game usually. When an
Injun knows he's in a country where game is moving or feeding he keeps
pretty quiet and lets the game come to him rather than going to it."
The theories laid down by the old hunter seemed soon to work out
fairly well, because they had not gone up more than a mile farther
until they got into a country which showed considerable sign of moose
and caribou, the latter in rather a fresh trail. As this led them to a
sort of open, grassy glade, where other sign was abundant, Alex paused
for a time in the hope that something might show from the heavy cover
in which they had been traveling.
At last he quietly laid a hand on Rob's arm, and without making any
sudden movement, pointed across the glade, which at that place was
several hundred yards wide.
"Oh, I see them!" said Rob, in an excited whisper. "What funny-looking
things they are--five of them!"
"Two stags, three cows," said Alex, quietly. "Too far to shoot. Wait
awhile."
They drew back now into the cover of the surrounding valleys, where it
is true the mosquitoes annoyed them unspeakably, but where they
remained with such patience as they could possess. The caribou seemed
to be slowly feeding out from the opposite edge of the forest, but
they were very deliberate and uncertain in their progress. The two
watched them for the best part of half an hour.
"Too bad!" said Alex, at last, as he peered out from behind the tree
which shielded them. "Four hundred yards at best."
Rob also ventured a look at this time.
"Why, there's only three," said he.
"Yes, the two stags went back into the woods."
"But we can't kill the cows," said Rob, decisively.
"Why not? They're just as good to eat."
"Maybe better," said Rob, "I don't doubt that. A young, fat cow is
better meat than an old bull any time, of course. But Uncle Dick said
we mustn't waste anything, and mustn't kill anything except what had
horns in this kind of game."
"Well," said Alex, "I don't much feel like going back to camp without
any meat."
"Nor I. Let's wait here awhile and maybe the stag'll come out again."
This indeed proved to be the case, for in a few minutes the smaller
stag did show at the edge of the wood, offering a dim and very
uncertain mark at a distance of several hundred yards. Rob began to
prepare his rifle.
"It's too far," said Alex. "No Injun would think of shooting that far.
You might only cripple."
"Yes," said Rob, "and I might only miss. But I'd rather do that than
shoot at one of the cows. I believe I'll take a chance anyhow, Alex."
Adjusting his rifle-sights to the best of his knowledge, Rob took long
and careful aim, and fired at the shoulder of the distant caribou,
which showed but indistinctly along his rifle-sights. The shot may
have come somewhere close to the animal, but certainly did not strike
it, for with a sudden whirl it was off, and in the next instant was
hidden by the protecting woods.
Now, there was instanced the truth of what Alex had said about the
fickleness of caribou nature. The three cows, one old and two young
ones, stood in full view in the open, at about half the distance of
the stag. They plainly saw both Alex and Rob as they now stepped out
from their cover. Yet instead of wheeling and running, the older cow,
her ears standing out high and wide, began to trot steadily toward
them instead of running away. Rob once more raised his rifle, but this
time not to shoot at game, but only to make an experiment. He fired
once, twice, and three times in the air; and even up to the time of
the last shot, the old cow trotted steadily toward him, not stopping
until she was within fifty yards of him. Here she stood staring
wide-eyed, but at length, having figured out something in her own
mind, she suddenly wheeled and lumbered off again, her heavy, coarse
muzzle straight ahead of her. All three now shambled off and soon were
lost to view.
"Well, what do you think about that, Alex?" demanded Rob. "That's the
funniest thing I ever saw in all my hunting. Those things must be
crazy."
"I suppose they think we are," replied Alex, glumly; "maybe we are, or
we'd have taken a shot at her. I can almost taste that tenderloin!"
"I'm sorry about it, Alex," said Rob, "but maybe some of the others
will get some meat. I really don't like to shoot females, because game
isn't as plentiful now as it used to be, you know, even in the wild
country."
Alex sighed, and rather unhappily turned and led the way back toward
the river. "It's too late to hunt anything more," said he, "and we
might not find anything that just suited us."
When at length they reached camp, after again crossing the river in
the _Mary Ann_, twilight was beginning to fall. Rob did not notice any
difference in the camp, although the keen eyes of Alex detected a
grayish object hanging on the cut limb of the tree at the edge of the
near-by thicket. John and Jesse pretended not to know anything, and
Alex and Rob, to be equally dignified, volunteered no information and
asked no questions.
All the boys had noticed that old hunters, especially Indian hunters,
never ask one another what success they have had, and never tell
anything about what they have killed. Jesse, however, could not stand
this sort of thing very long, and at length, with considerable
exultation, asked Rob what luck he had had. Rob rather shamefacedly
admitted the failure which he and Alex had made.
"We did better," said Jesse; "we got one."
"You got one? Who got it?" demanded Rob. "Where is it?"
"There's a ham hanging up over there in the brush," answered Jesse.
"We all went out, but I killed him."
"Is that so, John?" asked Rob.
"It certainly is," said John. "Yes, Jesse is the big chief to-night."
"We only went a little way, too," said Jesse, "just up over the ridge
there, I don't suppose more than half a mile. It must have been about
noon when we started, and Moise didn't think we were going to see
anything, and neither did we. So we sat down, and in an hour or so I
was shooting at a mark to see how my rifle would do. All at once we
saw this fellow--it wasn't a very big one, with little bits of
horns--come out and stand around looking to see what the noise was
about. So I just took a rest over a log, and I plugged him!"
Jesse stood up straight, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat,
a very proud young boy indeed.
Moise, strolling around, was grinning happily when at last he met the
unsuccessful hunters.
"Those Jesse boy, she'll been good shot," said he. "I s'pose, Alex,
you'll not make much hunter out of yourself, _hein_?"
"Well," said Alex, "we let some mighty good cow venison get away from
us, all right."
"Never mind," said Moise, consolingly, "we'll got fat young caribou
now plenty for two--three days, maybe so."
Rob went up to Jesse and shook him by the hand. "Good boy, Jess!" said
he. "I'm glad you got him instead of myself. But why didn't you tell
us when we came into camp?"
"Moise said good hunters didn't do that," ventured John, who joined
the conversation. "How about that, Alex?"
"Well," said the older hunter, "you must remember that white men are
different from Injuns. People who live as Injuns do get to be rather
quiet. Now, suppose an Injun hunter has gone out after a moose, and
has been gone maybe two or three days. He'll probably not hunt until
everything is gone in the lodge, and maybe neither he nor his family
is going to eat much until he gets a moose. Well, by and by he comes
home some evening, and throws aside the skin door of the lodge, and
goes in and sits down. His wife helps him off with his moccasins and
hands him a dry pair, and makes up the fire. He sits and smokes. No
one asks him whether he has killed or not, and he doesn't say whether
he has killed, although they all may be very hungry. Now, his wife
doesn't know whether to get ready to cook or not, but she doesn't ask
her man. He sits there awhile; but, of course, he likes his family and
doesn't want them to be hungry. So after a while, very dignified,
he'll make some excuse so that his wife can tell what the result of
the hunt has been. Maybe he'll say carelessly that he has a little
blood on his shirt, which ought to be washed off, or maybe he'll say
that if any one were walking a couple of miles down the river they
might see a blazed trail out toward the hills. Then his wife will
smile and hurry to put on the kettles. If it isn't too far, she'll
take her pack-strap then and start out to bring in some of the meat.
Every people, you see, will have different ways."
"But the man who doesn't kill something goes hungry, and his family,
too?"
"Not in the least!" rejoined Alex, with some spirit. "There, too, the
'First People' are kinder than the whites who govern them now. Suppose
in my village there are twenty lodges. Out of the twenty there will be
maybe four or five good hunters, men who can go out and kill moose or
bear. It gets to be so that they do most of the hunting, and if one of
them brings in any meat all the village will have meat. Of course the
good hunters don't do any other kind of work very much."
"That isn't the way white people do," asserted John; "they don't
divide up in business matters unless they have to."