_GAY VOYAGEURS._
1805.
The river was scarcely free from ice-floes when Chrissy was summoned
to the bedside of her mother, who had been hovering between life and
death for several weeks. Weary and worn with nervous apprehension
and the strain of the long and perilous journey, she entered the
sick-room. The flickering light from the hearth fell upon the white
face of the mother whom she loved as only a mother could be loved.
She was sleeping soundly. Bending over her she laid her cool hand on
the fevered brow, when the poor sufferer opened her eyes, but was too
weak to speak. She smiled faintly, and again fell into a deep sleep.
Through the long watches of the night, and oft through the day, she
sat gazing at the sleeping form, inwardly praying that she might not
be taken from them, that their home might not be left desolate.
At last there came a beautiful sunny morning in May when
consciousness returned, and the patient began to show other signs of
recovery. Naturally of a strong, vigorous constitution, Mrs. Wright
soon became convalescent. One evening she was lying on a couch
before the fire, when she observed the pallor of Chrissy's earnest
face.
"You must go out more, my child," she said. "You have had a long
siege of nursing. You look worn out."
"Come along, Chris," said Phil, her eldest brother. "Let us go for a
stroll down to the shore."
It was a beautiful evening. The sun was just veiling his face behind
the western hills, illuminating the sky with glory, when suddenly
they were attracted by the sweet strains of a French song in the
distance.
Soon twelve canoes rounded the headland, coming up the mighty current
of the river, manned by men decked out in varied and brilliant
colors. They sang as only Canadian voyageurs could sing, suiting the
action of the paddles to the rhythm of the song:
"A la claire fontaine,
M'en allant, promener,
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle,
Que je m'y suis baig-né,
Lui ya longstemps que je t'aime,
Jamais je ne t'oublierai."
Each verse was sung in solo, and then repeated by all in chorus,
finishing with a piercing Indian shriek.
[Illustration: "Soon twelve canoes rounded the headland."]
They followed them to the landing-place--a great flat rock on the
north side of the river, at the beginning of the portage road--and
found them preparing to bivouac there for the night, for all hands
were busily engaged in kindling fires and unstrapping blankets. It
was soon ascertained that it was one of the Hudson's Bay Company's
brigades _en route_ for the North, with supplies for the Company's
forts, and that it was in command of a young Scotchman. Chrissy's
pale face crimsoned as George Morrison approached her, and invited
her and her brother to share his evening meal. At first glance he
could have seen a resemblance between Phil and Chrissy, in feature,
in manner and expression; both had the same quiet, thoughtful manner,
the same calm, deliberate way of speaking, and the same reserved,
proud bearing.
"I never dreamed of meeting you here," he said, "or I should have had
a sumptuous repast ready. Fortunately I happen to have a tempting
bit of beaver tail, which is considered a great delicacy to
Nor'westers."
George Morrison was not slow to observe that Chrissy's face had an
expression of sadness in it that he had never seen before.
"You seem melancholy and dispirited. What is on your mind, Chrissy?"
he asked.
"I have been passing through a great trial," she responded, with
quivering lips, "and I vowed a solemn vow when I thought that all
hope of saving mother was gone, that if God would give her back, I
would devote my whole life entirely and unreservedly to His service,
even though it involved the severance of every earthly tie."
Phil, who never felt more ill at ease, more unresponsive, than when
compelled to listen to a conversation which touched upon sacred
themes, which were entirely beyond the range of his comprehension,
quietly withdrew from the tent and strolled out to the fire, where a
number of strange figures lay in the shadow of the dusky cliff.
French voyageurs and coureurs des bois, white trappers and Indians,
in a variety of lazy attitudes, reclined on buffalo robes and
bearskins. Most of them, with bleared eye and bloated face, were
puffing away at their pipes. Some had red handkerchiefs round their
heads holding back their long black hair. Some wore buckskin smocks,
fringed with bright colors and drawn tight at the waist by sashes of
brilliant hue, with trousers of the same material with little bells
fastened from knee to ankle.
"They're a' guid canoemen," said an old Scotchman, who had been for
many years factor at one of the trading-stations, and who was en
route to Moose Factory. "You should juist see them at wark. They
wadna think twice o' takin' a canoe ower the Big Kettle yonner at
this time o' the year. Whan they are in ony danger they faa' down on
their knees an' caa' on the Virgin an' a' the holy angels tae save
them, an' as sune as it is gane by they deny the verra exeestence o'
Virgin or angels aither, an' sweer like troopers. The Government
regairds them as kin' o' ne'er-do-weels' an' ootcasts. When they
gang back tae ceevilization they spen' a' they've made in the fur
trade on their claes an' in drucken bouts. As lang as their
beaver-skins last they set nae bouns tae their riot. Mon, I've seen
some o' thae verra men staulkin' thrae the streets o' Montreal as
nakit as a Sioux. Tho' they're sic bauld dare-deevils they are verra
usfu' tae oor company, for they gang hunners and hunners o' miles
throu the leemitless maze o' lakes an' rivers in the far North in
sairch o' furs. They dinna fear aither Iroquois nor Algonquins, Cree
nor Sioux."
"He must have a lot of nerve," said Phil, pointing to the tent, "to
place himself at the head of a crowd like that. I hope that he and
you may never fall victims to the treachery of such a crew."
"Dinna be feart," he said, "but he'll keep a stiff upper han' o' 'em.
They'll no verra readily try to ride ower him."
In the meantime a melancholy scene was taking place in the tent.
Chrissy had signified her determination to follow in the footsteps of
the sainted Marguerite de Bourgeois, Jogues, Jean de Brébeuf, and
other early Canadian missionaries, who left the joys of home, the
comforts of civilization, and, penetrating the back-woods beyond the
protecting arms of the law, beyond the care of sympathetic friends,
had lived and worked and laid down their lives as a sacrifice in
seeking to convert the Indians to Christianity.
"But," protested George, "you are surely not going to take the veil
like Marguerite de Bourgeois?"
"Certainly not."
"You are surely not going to wander off into the wild woods and lead
the life of a squaw, are you?"
"Not exactly, but I hope to arrange with the Mission Board of the
Dutch Reformed Church in New York, who are working among the Indians
of Upper Canada, to take me as a teacher."
"But have not the Indians of Lower Canada, and especially the tribes
scattered along your own river and its tributaries, a greater claim
upon you? If your vow includes nothing less than martyrdom, the
cannibals of the Nipissing or the Abbitibee tribes would be quite
willing to aid you in carrying out your intentions," he said, a faint
smile creeping over his serious face. "Chris, _dear_ Chrissy," he
said, as he stroked her soft flaxen hair, "I thought you had advanced
too far in the Christ life to think of bartering with the Infinite.
If He has given back your mother, receive her as a free gift, not to
be paid for by the sacrifice of your own precious life, nor by the
severing of earthly ties, but to be received and rejoiced in as a
token of His free grace. Fulfil your vow, my noble girl; live for
Him, work for Him, die for Him if need be, but one thing remember,
that the highest destiny of woman lies in adorning the position God
designed for her. It may please self to sever earthly ties, it may
give you an inward feeling of being under no obligation to the Hearer
and Answerer of prayer--a feeling that you are even with Him--but you
will find that it is not the true road to happiness. Self is not
your aim, nor is it comfort, nor enjoyment, nor social ambition; your
chief end and mine is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. If that
sweetest of earthly ties formed at Quebec stands in the way of this,
let us sever it here and now."
Tears were chasing each other down Chrissy's face as he spoke.
Few men can bear to see a woman in tears, and it was too much for
George.
"Chrissy," he said, "don't cry, please, don't; but tell me, shall we
sever it?" Her heart was too full for words, but every line of her
face expressed remonstrance.
He stopped for a moment, as though waiting for an answer, when
suddenly a shout went up which seemed to rend the very heavens, for
it came from several hundred men. It brought George Morrison out of
his tent in an instant. The crews of twenty-two large canoes
belonging to the Company and twelve crews of Iroquois Indians, who
were on their return from the winter hunt, with their families, furs,
dogs, etc., had just arrived on the scene.
The bark canoes, measuring on an average thirty-six feet in length by
six feet in width in the middle, which had been carried most tenderly
over the portage on the naked shoulders of six men, were deposited in
a semi-circle upside down.
The whole cargo of provisions and furs was carried in bundles or
packs of ninety-five pounds each by means of pack-straps, called
"tump-lines," arranged so that the middle or broad part of the strap
rested against the forehead; the ends securing the load, which rested
upon the shoulders. Each voyageur had one, two or three of these
packs, which they had carried over the nine-mile portage at a slow
trot, with the knees much bent, stopping for a few moments every
half-hour for "a pipe," as the rest was called, until at last the
landing-place was reached.
The crew of the second brigade almost out-rivalled those of the first
in their appearance. They were the most extraordinary-looking
individuals that Chrissy and Phil had ever beheld; mostly dark,
gipsy-like men in blanket-coats with borders and sashes of brilliant
hue, and hats with silver bands stuck full of feathers of a variety
and brilliancy of color, all with long hair to protect their necks
and faces from mosquitoes.
The clamour, jargoning and confusion of this wild, impetuous
multitude cannot be described. The commander of the brigade was a
Welshman, David Thompson, with a young Scotchman named Simon Fraser
as assistant, whose names have been handed down to posterity as the
discoverers of the Thompson and the Fraser Rivers.
Thompson was almost as extraordinary in his appearance as some of the
members of his brigade. Though plainly and quietly dressed, his
black hair was worn long all round and cut square, as if by one
stroke of the scissors, just above the eyebrows. His figure was
short and thick-set. His complexion was a ruddy brown, while the
expression of his features was friendly and intelligent. His
Bunyan-like hair and short nose gave him a very odd appearance. He
had a powerful mind and had perfect command of his crew.
With them was a French priest, who had secured passage for Montreal
in one of the Company's canoes.
The shout of greeting brought the Chief and his sons to the landing
to see what was the matter, and they remained interested witnesses of
the gay scene till nearly midnight, when the din ceased and all were
soon asleep--the leaders in their tents; the men, some beneath their
upturned canoes, some on blankets or skins spread on spruce boughs,
and some just rolled in their blankets on the rocks before the fire,
the cooks only remaining up to cook the hominy for the following day.
Hominy was the regular fare for the voyageurs of the great
fur-trading companies. It was made of dried corn, prepared by
boiling in strong alkali to remove the outer husk. It was then
carefully washed and dried, when it was fit for use. One quart of
this was boiled for two hours over a moderate fire in a gallon of
water, to which, when boiled, was added two ounces of melted suet.
This caused the corn to split and form a thick pudding, which was a
wholesome, palatable food, easy of digestion and easy of
transportation, one quart being sufficient for a man's subsistence
for twenty-four hours.
After taking leave of the Chief and Chrissy, George invited Phil,
Bearie, Christie and Rug to remain all night, most of which was spent
in conversation with the old Factor, who entertained them with
accounts of the discoveries in the great unknown land.
"Eh, mon," he said, "it is a graund cuintree. My auld frien' Sandy
Mackenzie, when juist a bit lad, cam' oot frae Inverness tae tak' a
poseetion wi' Mr. Gregory at Fort Chipewyan, at the heed o' the
Athabasca Lake, in the wild cuintree wast o' Hudson Bay. Sandy sune
got wearied o' office life, an' got Greegory tae agree to let him
gang explorin'; that ood be about twenty years sin'. Weel, sir, he
took wi' 'im fower canoes wi' fower Indians an' twa squaws, an' they
left the fort in June. In a week they had gotten the length o' Slave
Lake, as muckle as fower hunner an' seeventy miles frae the Fort.
After they had stoppit for some days they gaed on for about three
weeks mair, an' gangin' roond the side of the lake frae the outgoing
o' the river that has been ca'd aifter him, he gaed awa' doon the
river, whar they had an unco time drawin' their canoes ower the
frozen bits 'an gettin' them again intae the open watter, until at
the hinner en' they foond 'oot that it emptit intae the North Sea."
"Did he see any polar bears?" asked Rug, who stood gazing intently at
the rugged face of the speaker.
"Ay, lots o' them. I seen them mysel' in Davis Strait on the
ice-floes comin' doon frae the North. We used to set a blubber fire
burnin', an' they wad gether roond it, sniffin' an' smellin', at the
bleezin' daintie. We wastit mony a boolit on them, but they didna
seem tae mind it muckle. When ye cam' on them withoot waarnin', the
only thing that ye could dae was tae roar oot as lood as ye could an'
tae keep roarin'. Our men whiles triet tae catch them."
"How?" said Phil.
"They laid a rope wi' a lairge runnin' loop on the end o't alang the
ice, an' laid a seal on't that had been tostit ower the fire. Verra
sune the bears wad begin tae gether roond it. When one wad get
inside o' the loop the men wad draw the rope, as the bear wad be
hodden by the legs, than they wad turn the ither en' o' the rope
roon' the capstan an' haul the beast on board. The growlin' an' the
roarin' that resultit wad mak the hair o' your heed stan' on en'."
"Did your friend Mackenzie make any other discoveries?" asked Bearie.
"Ay, sir," replied the Scot. "He made the discoverie o' his life,
when, three years aifter his comin' back tae the Fort, he set oot in
sairch o' the Pacific Ocean, and foond it, tae. It was a thing that
nae white mon had ever dune afore 'im, an' I doot if ony ane but
Sandy could a stood the dangers an' deeficulties that he cam'
through, what wi' a sulky crew that nearly drave him mad an' ither
things. He was a brave, graun' mon, was Sandy. Weel, he left the
Fort in October, an' gangin' up the Ungigah River, he gaed across the
continent till he got tae the sea the next July, when he inscribed on
the solid cliffs on the shore the fac' o' his discoverie."
Long before sunrise the chief cook gave a loud and startling shout,
"_Alerte!_" No man dared linger for forty winks more, for after a
hurried breakfast the North-bound crews shouldered their canoes and
packs and commenced their long and tedious portage, and the
return-crew launched their frail barques, and before pushing out into
the mighty current, twenty paddlers in each boat--each squatting on
his slender bag of necessaries--the priest pulled off his hat, and in
a loud voice commenced a Latin prayer to the saints for a blessing on
the voyage, to which the men responded in chorus.
"Qu'il me benisse."
After which they floated down the stream singing:
"En roulant ma boule roulant,
En roulant ma boule,
Derrièr chez nous ya t'un étang,
En roulant ma boule,
Trois beaux canards s'en vont baignant,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant."