THE THOMPSON RIVER--OUR PARTIES RE-UNITE--HIPPOPHAGOUS STORES--INDIAN
REVENGE--WE BUILD A RAFT AND TWO CANOES--THE RAPIDS, AND OUR DANGERS--
INDIANS IN AMBUSH.
We had reached the banks of the Thompson, and were contemplating the
possibility of descending it on a raft, when Stalker arrived and
informed us that he had met an Indian who told him that, though we might
possibly cut our way through the forest, we should find it a very
arduous undertaking; that we might descend the Thompson by water, but
that there were some fierce rapids on the way, into which, if we once
plunged, we should inevitably be lost, and that we should in a much
shorter time reach Cariboo if we went down the Frazer than by any other
way. I agreed to his suggestion, though I still held to the opinion
that one of the shortest roads from Red River to New Westminster will be
found by the way we came and down the Thompson, and that with the aid of
small steamers and ferry boats, and a gang of navvies and lumberers, it
might speedily be made practicable. Yet, as we wished to get to
Cariboo, we followed the Indian's advice.
Some days passed before we all again met on the banks of the Frazer
River. Trevor and his party had met with numerous adventures, the most
serious of which was the loss of one of our horses, laden with numerous
valuables. Three horses had fallen over a cliff into the river. Two,
after great exertions, had regained the bank; but the third was swept
down the stream and never seen again. Our provisions were growing
short, and though game was occasionally shot, it was not in quantities
sufficient to make amends for the amount we exhausted, and we were
unwilling to go on short allowance--thereby lessening our strength and
power of endurance and impeding our progress. We accordingly determined
to go on till we found some place where there was sufficient pasturage
for our horses to give them a chance of life, to kill and dry the flesh
of some of them to replenish our stock of meat, and, with ample
provisions for the voyage, to commence our descent of the Frazer.
The matter was earnestly discussed over our camp fire the evening of our
re-assembling. We all know that the navigation of an unknown river on a
raft is a most dangerous proceeding. If once a strong current gets hold
of a raft, it is almost impossible for those on it to guide it properly.
I therefore proposed that, besides a raft, we should form two dug-out
canoes--that one should go ahead as pilot, and the other he attached to
the raft to carry a rope on shore, so as to stop the raft when
necessary. We were fortunate in soon finding an open, well-grassed
valley suited for our object, where we might leave the horses which we
did not require to kill. Of course, it was very likely that they would
be taken possession of by Indians of bears. In every other respect
there was no fear about their being able to take cure of themselves
during any ordinary winter. Stalker told us a story which shows that
people can exist even during the most severe winter with very little
shelter, if they have a moderate supply of food. The event occurred
many years ago.
An officer of one of the fur trading companies of those days had
received directions to establish a trading post on the banks of one of
the rivers in that district. Either he or one of his brother officers
had some time previously had to punish an Indian for some offence
committed against the community. The man was hung; his tribe looked on,
acknowledging the justice of his sentence, and took their departure
without any expression of anger. The post was established, and as the
natives in the neighbourhood were supposed to be friendly, it was only
partly fortified. As soon as the house was built, a party of hunters
was sent out to a spot four or five days' march off, known to be
well-stocked with beavers. One of them, a half-bred, Pierre Dorie by
name, had his Indian wife and two small children with him, one three
years old, the other only four mouths. Huts were built; and while the
trappers were out, this faithful squaw of Dorie took charge of them.
While she was occupied in her household affairs, one evening soon after
winter had commenced, expecting the return of her husband and his
companions, one of the hunters staggered into her hut mortally wounded.
He had barely time to tell her that her husband and the rest were
murdered by Indians, and to advise her to fly, when he fell down dead.
With that courage and presence of mind which Indian women possess
generally in so remarkable a degree, she prepared to escape with her
children. Immediately hurrying out, she caught, with some difficulty,
two horses, and, returning with them, packed up all the provisions the
hut contained and some blankets and clothes. These she placed on one
horse, and, mounting the other with her two infants, set out for the
newly-built post, hoping to arrive in time to give notice of what had
occurred, and put the officer in charge on his guard. She had
accomplished two days of her journey without meeting with enemies, when,
on the third, as she was pushing on as fast as the strength of her
horses would allow, she espied in the distance a large body of Indians
on horseback, galloping towards the fort. Her heart misgave her. She
instantly dismounted, just in time to conceal herself and her horses in
a copse ere the Indians passed by. Still fearing that they might be in
the neighbourhood, she dared not light a fire or go in search of water.
Early the next day she again set out, and late in the evening approached
the spot where she expected to find the fort. It had disappeared,--a
heap of ashes alone marking the place where it had stood. Still hoping
to find some of the inmates alive, she concealed her children and the
horses in a thick wood, and, arming herself with an axe and knife, crept
cautiously towards the spot. Everywhere, traces of blood met her view.
Still she hoped that some one might be concealed near. She called over
the names of those who had been left in the fort. No one replied. She
waited. Again she called. The melancholy howl of the prairie wolf was
the only reply. She drew a little nearer. By the light of smouldering
timbers, which a puff of wind just then fanned into a flame, she saw a
band of those voracious creatures engaged in a banquet on the remains of
her friends. A new terror seized her. They might attack her infants,
whom she had left sleeping on the ground. Hurrying back, her heart
sinking with dread, she was just in time to drive several away who were
approaching the spot. The next morning she set out for a range of hills
in the neighbourhood, bordering a river which falls into the Columbia.
Here she proposed to remain during the winter.
After looking about on all sides, she selected as her abode for the
winter a rocky recess in the hills, near which a stream bubbled forth.
She had in her possession a large buffalo robe and two deer skins. With
these, aided by fir bark and cedar branches, she constructed a hut
sufficiently large to afford shelter for herself and children. She
soon, however--finding that her provisions would not last her during the
winter--killed the two horses, and smoke-dried their flesh. Their skins
further improved her tenement. In this cheerless and wretched abode,
the poor widow with her infants spent the livelong winter, not even
seeing at a distance a human being passing by finding, towards the end
of March, that her stock of provisions was growing short, she packed up
the remainder, and, with as much covering as she could carry in addition
to her youngest child on her back, set out, holding the other by the
hand, towards a spot on the Columbia river, by which she knew the
Company's canoes would certainly pass. Fortunately, she met a tribe of
friendly Indians, who treated her and her children with the greatest
kindness, and after residing with them for some weeks, she saw the
looked-for trading canoes arrive, and was ultimately restored to her
friends.
We had plenty to occupy us in the construction of our raft and two
canoes. The raft was to be just large enough to carry six men and
Ready. Each canoe was to be capable of carrying two men, though the
ordinary crew was to consist only of one man. Not one of us had ever
before made a dug-out, and as the huge trunks of two trees which we had
felled for the purpose lay prostrate before us, the undertaking seemed
almost hopeless. "Nothing try, nothing have," cried Trevor, seizing an
axe and chopping away at the branches. We next cut the first tree into
the proposed length, and smoothed off the upper part for the gunwale.
On their flat surface I marked off the shape, as I used to do when
cutting out a vessel as a boy.
"Let us give her good floors and all the beam we can, and she will be
stiff," said Trevor.
This we did; and as we proceeded with our work, we were well satisfied
with it, and found that we could get on far more expeditiously than at
first. While Trevor and I worked away on the canoes, the other men were
progressing with the raft, and preparing the other log for our
finishing. The first canoe was completed and launched with due ceremony
under the name of the _Hope_. The next was called the _Beauty_. They
both swam pretty well, but the sides being rather thick they were deeper
in the water than was desirable. Still, as they were much more
manageable than a raft could be, I regretted that we had not time to
build more canoes large enough to carry all the party, and our
provisions and goods. We made several additional paddles, as also a
supply of poles, which were loaded on to the raft. The last thing I
thought of was a mast and sail for the raft, as, under many
circumstances, it might enable us to guide the raft, especially if the
wind was against us, and a rapid near at hand.
One lovely bright morning we cast off from the shore, and commenced our
perilous undertaking. Quick-ear had been down the river in his youth,
but it was so long ago that he had forgotten the distances. All he
could say was, that there were several dangerous rapids; but he could
not say where they occurred. Stalker went first, and acted as pilot,
and Garoupe had charge of the tender. The raft was tolerably heavily
laden, and required careful handling. Each man on the raft had a pole
as well as a paddle, to be used as circumstances required. I acted as
captain, for I certainly knew as much about the navigation as any one on
board, and it was necessary that some one should be in command. I also
steered with a long oar fixed on a triangle at one end of the raft,
while the rest of the party were arranged with paddles on either side.
In the centre we placed the stores, and close to them Ready generally
took his post, while the stores and provisions were placed round it.
The scenery was grand--much as I have before described it--lofty, rugged
mountains, their summits covered with snow, sometimes near, sometimes in
the far distance; steep precipices, rugged wild rocks, and forests of
trees of every size, with many fallen ones, some just uprooted, others
soft from decay; here and there green glades, marshes, and other open
spaces; while, by the sides of the rivers, and frequently in mid
current, huge water-worn boulders, which it was often no easy matter, in
our downward course, to avoid.
For several days the weather was fine, and we went on smoothly enough--
camping at night on convenient spots. To prevent accidents, we unloaded
our raft, placed the goods in the centre of the camp, and drew up our
canoes. On the fourth night of our voyage, Ready, who was our most
vigilant watcher, suddenly broke into a loud bark, and started towards a
copse close to us. I sprang to my feet; so did Peter, who said that he
saw a dark form moving among the trees. Whether it was a bear or a
human being he could not tell. Whatever it was, it made its escape
before Ready could come up with it, and I called him back lest he should
be injured if allowed to be without support. Of course, the whole camp
was aroused. Two scouts crept out cautiously, but could discover
nothing, and the opinion was, that some small animal had aroused Ready
and that Peter's imagination had conjured up the figure in the wood. I
thought it better, however, to keep on watch during the remainder of the
night. Ready was far from easy, and several times started up and
uttered low growls and short shrill barks.
We embarked at the usual hour in the morning. In a short time Stalker
came back and reported that the navigation was far more difficult than
heretofore, though with caution we might get through. "Let's try it by
all means," was the cry. We were getting bold, and thought that we
could do anything with our raft. Stalker, accordingly, again went on
ahead, and we poled and paddled towards an opening among the rocks which
he pointed out. Suddenly our poles lost bottom, and we found the raft
whirled on at a rate which prevented me from guiding it in the way I had
hitherto done. The paddles were almost useless. All we could do was to
let the raft drive on, and to try and avoid the dangers as they
appeared. We had passed several rocks, against which, if we had touched
them, the raft might easily have been knocked to pieces, when a huge
rock appeared before us, round which the water rushed with the force of
a mill stream.
In vain Garoupe tried to tow us off from it--it was too late to attempt
to carry a rope to the opposite shore--in vain all hands paddled to keep
it clear. The raft struck, and remained caught by the rocks, the water
immediately swelling up and threatening to sweep off the goods on it.
Garoupe, instantly telling Swiftfoot to jump in, paddled off with a rope
to the opposite shore. In the meantime, I saw that the water was
shallow between the raft and the shore near which we were jammed.
Accordingly, I told Quick-ear to try it, which he did, and finding it
shallow, began at once to carry the goods on shore. This appearing the
best thing to be done, Trevor, I, and Peter set about helping him. We
had already landed several things, and Trevor and Peter were with Gaby
on the raft, when, suddenly, from its being so much lightened, the
current lifted it up, and away it went floating off the rock and down
the stream. Garoupe and Swiftfoot made an attempt to stop it with the
rope, but that snapped, and the raft was hurried on. I ran along the
bank, which was here tolerably smooth. I saw Trevor sounding with his
pole, and the next moment he and his two companions leaped overboard,
and attempted to drag the raft towards the shore. Utterly hopeless was
the attempt. It was forced from their grasp. I saw Gaby frantically
pulling at it; but his foot slipped, and he let go his hold. The other
two leaped on it, and on it floated, while he with difficulty gained a
pointed rock in the middle of the stream, where he sat, by no means like
"Patience on a monument smiling at Grief," but frantically calling out
for the canoe to come to his rescue.
While this was taking place, Garoupe and Swiftfoot had embarked in the
canoe, and were going in pursuit of the raft; but the channel they took
carried them at a distance from poor Gaby--besides which, he would have
upset the canoe had he attempted to get into it Quick-ear and I ran on,
he taking the lead, over the rocky ground, with a rope which he had
brought on shore, hoping to render assistance to our companions on the
raft. Gaby, believing himself abandoned, shouted more frantically than
ever. I could only urge him to stick fast till we could return to his
assistance; and the rocks soon hid him from sight. Once more, after an
arduous run over rough boulders, among which I expected every instant to
fall and break my legs, if not my neck, I again caught sight of the raft
sticking fast between two rocks. Ready had, as he always did, kept
close to my heels whenever he saw that there was work to be done, and
when I put the end of the rope Quick-ear had brought into his mouth, he
at once comprehended that he was to swim off with it to Peter, to whom I
shouted to call him. Ready accomplished his task, and we now thought
that, at all events, we should be able to land the remainder of the
goods. Once again Quick-ear and I waded off with the assistance of the
rope; though the water was deeper and the current stronger than I
fancied, with a heavy load on my shoulder; just, however, as we got on
the raft it swung round, and the cleat to which the rope was fastened
gave way.
The raft floated off into deep water, and was carried quickly towards
some swifter rapids than we had just passed. Though we might escape
with our lives, still, the greater part of our provisions would be
destroyed, and without them we could not hope to prosecute our voyage
round to Cariboo. Just at that critical moment the canoes reached us.
Stalker and Garoupe towed with all their might. We all paddled, and, at
length, finding bottom with our poles, forced the raft into a counter
eddy, and then, without much trouble, reached the shore.
Our difficulties had now, however, only just begun. We had to unload
the raft, and to transport all our goods by land to the foot of the
rapid. However, with larger canoes, Stalker was of opinion that we
should have had no difficulty in getting down the rapid. Each package
was done up so as to weigh as much as a man could carry over rough
ground. On examination, it was found that the bank opposite to that on
which we had hitherto camped was the easiest for the portage. With much
caution, and the aid of all our ropes, we therefore towed our raft
across the river, and began unloading. Stalker, meantime, paddled up
the stream to relieve poor Gaby from his unpleasant position. The rest
of us were so busily occupied that we scarcely noted how time sped. I
had made one trip to the end of the portage, and was lifting up another
load, when Gaby's voice saluted my ears. His clothes, still wet, clung
to his thin body, and his countenance wore a most lugubrious expression.
"I guess, friend, we are in a pretty fix," he observed.
He then told me that while he had been on the rock he saw three Indians
in their war-paint and feathers, who had emerged from the wood and stood
eyeing him as he sat on the rock; that soon they were joined by others,
who drew their bows with arrows pointed at him; that one shot, but the
arrow fell short, and that they shook their heads as if of opinion that
they could not reach him. They then disappeared into the depths of the
forest. This information, coupled with what Peter had asserted he had
seen the previous night, made us fear that we were watched by Indians,
who would very likely fall on us, if they found us unprepared to receive
them. We considered ourselves, therefore, fortunate in having crossed
the river so that they could not reach us unless they had canoes, and we
had seen none on our way down. It was very heavy work carrying our
property along the portage. When Stalker undertook to carry the raft
down the rapid Gaby volunteered to accompany him. All we could do was
to bring up the goods we had at first landed to a camp near the raft.
We formed it among rocks which would afford us good shelter on either
side should we be attacked by Indians. However, as the tribes in that
direction are generally friendly to the white men, we did not expect to
be attacked by a large body, though we thought it very possible that a
few individuals might have formed a plan to cut us off and possess
themselves of our property. So we kept a sharp look out, and the
possibility of being attacked added greatly to our difficulties.