Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
THE PIONEERS, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
PREFACE.
Sir Alexander Mackenzie was one of the most energetic and successful of
the discoverers who have traversed the vast wilderness of British
America. He did his work single-handed, with slender means, and slight
encouragement, at a time when discovery was rare and the country almost
_terra incognita_. The long and difficult route, so recently traversed
by the Red River Expedition, was, to Sir Alexander, but the small
beginning of his far-reaching travels. He traced the great river which
bears his name to its outlet in the Polar Sea, and was the first to
cross the Rocky Mountains in those latitudes and descend to the Pacific
ocean.
Being a man of action, and not particularly enamoured of the pen, his
journal [For a sight of which apply to the British Museum, London, or
the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh]--full though it be of important and
most interesting facts--is a bare and unadorned though valuable record
of progress made, of work done, which is unsuited to juvenile minds,
besides being bulky and scarce.
Having spent some years in Rupert's Land, and seen something of Red
Indian and fur-trading life, I have ventured to weave the incidents of
Sir Alexander's narratives into a story which, it is hoped, may prove
interesting to the young--perchance, also, to the old.
I take this opportunity of acknowledging myself deeply indebted to Sir
Alexander's daughter, Miss Mackenzie, and to his two sons, for kindly
placing at my disposal all the information in their possession.
R.M.B.
EDINBURGH, 1872.
CHAPTER ONE.
SHOWS HOW IT BEGAN.
"The world is round," said somebody in ancient times to somebody else.
"Not at all; it is flat--flat as a pancake," replied somebody else to
somebody; "and if you were to travel far enough you might get to the end
of it and tumble over the edge, if so disposed."
Ever since the commencement of this early geographical controversy, men
have been labouring with more or less energy and success to ascertain
the form and character of the earth; a grand, glorious labour it has
been; resulting in blessings innumerable to mankind--blessings both
spiritual and temporal.
We have heard some people object to geographical discovery, especially
in the inclement parts of the earth, on the ground that it could be of
no use, and involved great risk to life and limb. "Of no use!" Who can
tell what discoveries shall be useful and what useless? "The works of
God are great, sought out of all those that have pleasure therein,"
saith the Scripture. There is no reference here to usefulness, but the
searching out of God's works, without limitation, is authorised; and
those who "take pleasure therein," will be content to leave the result
of their labours in the hands of Him who sent them forth. As to
"risk,"--why, a carpenter cannot ascend to the top of a house to put the
rafters thereon without risk; a chemist cannot investigate the
properties of certain fumes without risk; you cannot even eat your
dinner without risk. Only this are we sure of--that, if man had never
undertaken labour except when such was _obviously_ useful and devoid of
risk, the world would still be in the darkness of the Middle Ages.
Reuben Guff held these sentiments, or something like them; and Reuben
was a man who had seen a great deal of life in his day, although at the
time we introduce him to public notice he had not lived more than
six-and-thirty summers. He was a bronzed, stalwart Canadian. His
father had been Scotch, his mother of French extraction; and Reuben
possessed the dogged resolution of the Scot with the vivacity of the
Frenchman. In regard to his tastes and occupation we shall let him
speak for himself.
Sitting under a pine-tree, in the wild wilderness that lies to the north
of Canada with the drumstick of a goose in one hand and a scalping-knife
in the other; with a log-fire in front of him, and his son, a stripling
of sixteen, by his side, he delivered himself of the following
sentiments:--
"I tell 'ee what it is, Lawrence," (the lad was named after the great
river on the banks of which he had been reared), "I was born to be a
pioneer. Ever since I was the height of a three-fut rule I've had a
skunner at the settlements and a love for the wilderness that I couldn't
overcome nohow. Moreover, I wouldn't overcome it if I could, for it's
my opinion that He who made us knows what He wants us to do, an' has
given us sitch feelin's and inclinations as will lead us to do it, if we
don't run mad after _notions_ of our own, as the folk in the settlements
are raither apt to do."
Here some of the "notions" referred to appeared to tickle the fancy of
the backwoodsman, for he paused to indulge in a quiet chuckle which
wrinkled up all the lines of good-humour and fun in his rough
countenance. After applying himself for a few seconds with much energy
to the drumstick,--he resumed his discourse in a slow, deliberate style
of speech which was peculiar to him:--
"Yes, Lawrence, my lad, I've made it my business ever since I was
fifteen to explore this here wilderness, livin' by my gun and guidin'
the fur-traders on their v'yages, or consorting with the Injins, as you
know very well; and, now that we've come to the big lake it is needful
to tell 'ee that I'm still bent on followin' out my callin'. I'm goin'
away to the nor'ard to explore, and you'll have to make up your mind
to-night whether _you_ will be my steersman or whether I'm to lay that
dooty on Swiftarrow. I needn't say which I'd like best."
The hunter finished the drumstick at this point, threw the bone into the
fire, lighted his pipe, and awaited his son's answer in silence.
But the son appeared to be in no hurry to reply; for, after giving his
father a glance and nod, which were meant to say, "I hear and I'll
consider, but I'm too much engaged just now to speak," he continued his
occupation of devouring venison steaks, the sauce to which was evidently
hunger.
Having finished his supper and lighted his pipe he became more
communicative.
"Father," he said, "you have always advised me to think well before
speaking."
"I have, lad; it's the natur' of our forefathers an' a very good natur'
too. I'd be sorry to see it go out of the family."
"Well, then; I've thought my best about goin' with 'ee on this trip,"
returned the youth, "an' I've resolved to go on one condition--that
Swiftarrow goes with us."
"Why so, my son? we don't need him."
"Perhaps not, but I like him; for he has taught me all that I know of
woodcraft, and I'm certain that if you and I both leave him he'll be
sure to return to the new settlement at the south end of Ontario, and
you know what the end of that would be."
"Death by drinkin'," replied Reuben Guff shaking his head slowly, while
he watched the upward flight of a ring of white smoke that had just
issued from his lips.
"Well, I won't leave him to _that_," continued the youth, with sudden
energy of manner and look, "as long as my name is Lawrence. You know
that nothin' would please me more than goin' to explore the wilderness
with you, father; but if Swiftarrow is to be left behind, there shall be
no pioneering for me. Besides, three are better than two on such a
trip, and the Injin will be sure to keep the pot full, no matter what
sort o' country we may have to pass through, for he's a dead shot wi'
the gun as well as wi' the bow."
"I daresay you're right, lad," replied Reuben, in a tone of one who
muses. "There's room in the canoe for three, and it's not unlikely that
the Injin would go south to the settlement, for he is a lonely man since
his poor mother died. I do believe that it was nothin' but his
extraor'nar' love for that old 'ooman that kep' him from goin' to the
dogs. Leastwise it was that kep' him from goin' to the settlement,
which is much the same thing, for Swiftarrow can't resist fire-water.
Yes, lad, you're right--so we'll take him with us. As you say, three
are better than two on such a v'yage."
Some weeks after the foregoing conversation the pioneers arrived at the
northern end of that great inland sea, Lake Superior, which, being
upwards of four hundred miles long, and one hundred and seventy-five
miles broad, presents many of the features of Ocean itself. This end of
the lake was, at the time we write of, and still is, an absolute
wilderness, inhabited only by scattered tribes of Indians, and almost
untouched by the hand of the white man, save at one spot, where the
fur-traders had planted an isolated establishment. At this point in the
wild woods the representatives of the fur-traders of Canada were wont to
congregate for the settlement of their affairs in the spring of every
year, and from this point also trading-parties were despatched in canoes
into the still more remote parts of the great northern wilderness,
whence they returned with rich cargoes of furs received from the "red
men" in exchange for powder and shot, guns, hatchets, knives, cloth,
twine, fish-hooks, and such articles as were suited to the tastes and
wants of a primitive and wandering people.
Here Reuben Guff and his son found Swiftarrow, as they had expected, and
proposed to him that he should accompany them on their voyage north,--a
proposal which he accepted with pleasure,--for the strong-boned Indian
had an adventurous spirit as well as a healthy frame.
Swiftarrow was a brave and powerful Indian, and was esteemed one of the
best hunters of his tribe; but no one seeing him in camp in a quiescent
state would have thought him to be possessed of much energy, for he was
slow and deliberate in his movements, and withal had a lazy look about
his eyes. But the sight of a bear or moose-deer had the effect of
waking him up in a way that caused his dark eyes to flash and his large
frame to move with cat-like activity.
When Reuben Guff discovered him on the shore of Lake Superior, he was
seated at the door of his skin lodge, anointing his hair, which was long
and black, with bear's grease--the "genuine article," without even the
admixture of a drop of scent!--so pure, in fact, that the Indian basted
his steaks and anointed his hair with grease from the same box.
"Hallo! Swiftarrow," exclaimed Reuben, as he sauntered up to the
savage, with his gun on his shoulder, "ye seem to be beautifyin' yerself
to-day--not goin' to get married, eh?"
Swiftarrow, whose long hair hung over his face like a glossy curtain,
tossed aside his locks and gazed earnestly at the hunter. A slight
smile and a pleasant gleam lighted up his dark countenance as he wiped
his greasy right hand on his legging and extended it, exclaiming,
"watchee!" by which he meant, what cheer?
"What cheer? what cheer?" replied Reuben, with a broad but quiet grin,
as he shook his friend's hand heartily.
Each man understood the other's language perfectly; but each appeared to
prefer to talk in his own tongue; for while Reuben addressed the red man
in English, Swiftarrow replied in Indian. This had been an understood
arrangement between them ever since the time when, as lads, they had
first met and formed a close friendship, on the shores of Lake Huron.
"Is my brother's trail to be through the woods or on the waters? Does
he go hunting or trading?" inquired the Indian, after the first
salutations were over.
"Well, I may say that I'm neither goin' a-huntin' or tradin'--here, fill
yer pipe wi' baccy from my pouch; it's better than yours, I'll be bound.
In a manner, too, I'm goin' both to hunt an' trade in a small way; but
my main business on this trip is to be diskivery."
The Indian uttered a sound, which meant that he did not understand.
"I'm goin' to sarch out new lands," explained Reuben, "away to the far
north. I've heard it said by Injins that have wandered to the nor'ard
that they've met in with red-skins, who said that there is a big river
flowin' out o' a great lake in the direction o' the north pole, an' that
it runs into the sea there. They may be tellin' truth, or they may be
tellin' lies; I dun know; anyhow, I'm koorious to know somethin' about
it, so I'm goin' north to see for myself, and I've comed to ask if
Swiftarrow will go with me."
The hunter paused, but the Indian remained silently smoking his long
stone-headed pipe, or calumet, with a countenance so grave and
expressionless, that no idea of his sentiments could be gathered from
it. After a brief pause, Reuben continued--
"It won't be altogether a trip of diskivery neither, for I've got some
bales of goods with me, and as we go in a small birch canoe, we'll
travel light; but I hope to come back sunk to the gunwale with furs, for
the red-skins of the far north are like enough to have plenty of pelts,
and they won't ask much for them. As to grub, you and I could manage to
supply ourselves wi' lots o' that anywheres, and I've got plenty of
powder and lead. Moreover, my boy Lawrence is goin' with me."
During the foregoing remarks, the Indian's countenance betrayed no sign
of feeling until the name of Lawrence was mentioned, when a gleam of
satisfaction shot from his eyes. Removing the pipe from his lips, he
puffed a volume of smoke through his nostrils, and said:--
"Swiftarrow will go."
Backwoodsmen seldom take long to mature their plans, and are generally
prompt to carry them into execution. Two days after the brief
conversation above narrated, the three friends pushed off in their
little birch-bark canoe and paddled up the stream which leads to the
Kakabeka Falls on the Kamenistaquoia River. Surmounting this obstacle
by the simple process of carrying the canoe and her lading past the
falls by land, and relaunching on the still water above, they continued
their voyage day by day, encamping under the trees by night, until they
had penetrated far and deep into the heart of the northern wilderness,
and had even passed beyond the most distant establishments of the
adventurous fur-traders.
The world of forest, swamp, lake, and river, that still, however, lay
between them and the land which they sought to reach, was very wide.
Weeks, and even months, would certainly elapse before they could hope to
approach it; one day, therefore, they buried their goods and stores in a
convenient place, intending to dig them up on their return, and
meanwhile turned aside into a country which promised to afford them a
good supply of fresh provisions for the voyage north.
Here an adventure befell them which brought their voyage of discovery,
at that time, to an abrupt close.
CHAPTER TWO.
TERRIBLE DISCOVERIES AND ALTERED PLANS.
"Ho!" ejaculated Swiftarrow.
"Smoke!" exclaimed Reuben Guff.
Both men spoke at the same moment,--their discovery having been
simultaneous. At the same time Lawrence pointed with the blade of his
paddle to a thin line of smoke which rose above the tree-tops into the
blue sky, and was faithfully mirrored in the lake on which they floated.
"Injins!" said Reuben, resting his steering paddle across the canoe for
a few seconds.
Swiftarrow assented with another "Ho," and Lawrence moved his gun into a
handy position to be ready for an emergency; but there was no other sign
of man's presence than the wreath of smoke. All was perfectly silent.
The air too was quite still, and the surface of the lake resembled a
sheet of glass.
"Strange," observed Reuben, "red-skins ain't usually so shy. If they
mean mischief they don't ever let smoke be seen, an' when they don't
mean mischief they generally show themselves. Come, push on, lads;
we'll go see what's i' the wind."
"I'll show them the muzzle, father," said Lawrence, laying down his
paddle and taking up his gun: "it may be well to let 'em see that we
have arms."
"No need for that, boy. If they know anything at all, they know that
white men don't go about in the wilderness empty-handed. Put down the
piece, and use your paddle."
Thus reproved, Lawrence flushed slightly, but obeyed the order and
resumed paddling.
In a few minutes they were on shore. Still all was silent as the grave.
Hauling the bow of the canoe on the beach to keep it fast, the three
men took their weapons, and, entering the woods in single file, walked
cautiously but swiftly in the direction of the smoke. They soon reached
the spot, and the scene which met their eyes was one which, while it
accounted for the silence that reigned around, filled their minds with
sadness and horror.
In an open space, where a number of trees had been cut down, stood about
a dozen skin tents or Indian lodges, some with the curtain-doors closed,
others open, exposing the interiors, on the floors of which the dead
bodies of Indian men, women, and children, lay in every attitude and in
all stages of decomposition. Outside of the tents other corpses lay
strewn on the ground, and most of these bore evidence of having been
more or less torn by wolves. The travellers knew at a glance that these
unfortunate people had fallen before that terrible disease, small-pox,
which had recently attacked and almost depopulated several districts of
the Indian country.
How the disease was introduced among the Indians at the time of which we
write, it is impossible to say and useless to conjecture. The fact of
its desolating effects is unquestionable. One who dwelt in the country
at the time writes: [See Sir Alexander Mackenzie's _Voyages_, page 14.]
"The fatal infection spread around with a baneful rapidity which no
flight could escape, and with a fatal effect that nothing could resist.
It destroyed with its pestilential breath whole families and tribes; and
the horrid scene presented, to those who had the melancholy opportunity
of beholding it, a combination of the dead, the dying, and such as, to
avoid the fate of their friends around them, prepared to disappoint the
plague of its prey by terminating their own existence. To aggravate the
picture, if aggravation were possible, the carcases were dragged forth
from the huts by the wolves, or were mangled within them by the dogs,
which thus sought to satisfy their hunger with the putrid remains of
their masters. It was not uncommon at this time for the father of a
family, whom the infection had not reached, to call his household around
him, represent the terrible sufferings and fate that awaited them, which
he believed was owing to the influence of an evil spirit who desired to
extirpate the race, and incited them to baffle death with all its
horrors by at once killing themselves--at the same time offering to
perform the deed of mercy with his own hand if their hearts should fail
them."
That some of the dead before our pioneers had acted in this way was
evident, for while most of the corpses bore marks of having been smitten
with the disease, others were there which showed nothing to account for
death save a knife wound over the region of the heart.
It was a sad and sickening sight, and drew forth one or two low-toned
sorrowful remarks from Reuben, as he moved slowly towards the tent from
which smoke still issued.
The three men paused before it because a sound came from within, and
they felt reluctant to disturb the awful silence. The pause, however,
was but momentary. Reuben lifted the covering and opened it wide. A
small fire still burned on the hearth in the centre of the lodge; around
it lay the bodies of dead men, women, and children. Only one figure,
that of an old woman, remained in a half-reclining position, but she was
motionless, and they thought her dead also. This, however, was not the
case. The flood of light which streamed in on her appeared to rouse
her, for she raised her grey head, and, gazing anxiously at the figures
which darkened the entrance of the lodge, asked in a tremulous voice:
"Is that you, my son?"
"No, mother, but it is a friend," said Swiftarrow, who understood her
language.
"A friend," repeated the old woman, shaking her head slowly, "I don't
want a friend. The Master of Life is my friend. My people said that an
evil spirit was slaying them; but I know better. It was the Great
Spirit who came to us. We have been very wicked. We needed punishment.
But why has He spared me? I was the worst of them all."
There was something terrible in the tone and manner in which this was
uttered, as if the breast of the speaker were torn with conflicting
feelings.
"She must have met wi' the missionaries some time or other," whispered
Reuben.
"Is the old woman the only one of all the tribe left alive?" asked
Swiftarrow.
"Ay, the only one--no, not the _only_ one; my son is yet alive. He went
to set a bear-trap not _very_ long since; but he should have come back
before now. He will be back soon."
The deep sigh which followed proved that the poor old woman was hoping
against hope.
"How long is't since he left you, mother?" asked Lawrence eagerly.
"Two suns have risen and set since he left, and he had not far to go."
"Father, I'll go seek for this man," said Lawrence; "something may have
befallen him."
Reuben made no objection, and the youth set off immediately in a
direction which was pointed out by the old woman.
After he was gone his father and the Indian shifted one of the cleanest
looking of the empty tents to a considerable distance from the spot
where the terrible work of death had been done, and removing the old
woman from the neighbourhood of the pestilential atmosphere, placed her
therein, kindled a fire and cooked her a little food, of which she
evidently stood much in need.
Meanwhile Lawrence sped through the pathless forest with the light step
of a strong youth and the precision of a practised hunter. About four
miles from the Indian camp he came upon the track of a bear, the
footprints of which proved that it was an unusually large one. He
followed it up closely, and was led by it to a spot where some trees had
been cut down, and not far from which he saw what appeared to him to be
the remains of a trap. Almost at the same moment of his making this
discovery he heard a growl, and saw the bear itself--a monster of the
brown species, which differs from the ordinary black bear of America in
being more carnivorous and much larger, as well as more savage and bold.
No sooner did it see the youth than it rushed upon him with great fury.
A piece of broken line was drawn tight round its neck, and another
piece round its fore-leg, while four arrows stuck in its shoulder and
side, showing plainly that it had broken loose from a snare and had been
attacked by man. But Lawrence had no time to think on these things. He
had barely time to throw forward and cock his gun when the bear was upon
him. It rose on its hind-legs, and in doing so towered high above the
youth, who, whatever his feelings might have been, looked undismayed.
With an unflinching eye he took aim at the monster's heart, and shot it
dead. So close was it to him that he singed the hair on its breast and
had to leap to one side to avoid being struck as it fell.
Reloading quickly, the young hunter advanced towards the trap, where his
worst fears were realised, for near to it he found the body of an Indian
torn limb from limb, and mostly eaten, except the head, which remained
entire. It was evident that the poor man, having set several snares for
bears, had gone to visit them, and found this brown bear caught by the
head and leg. He seemed to have tried to kill it with arrows, but must
have been afraid to go near enough to use his weapons with effect, and
the enraged animal, having broken the snare, flew upon him and tore him
to pieces.
Brown bears of this kind are very powerful. One traveller in these
regions saw the footprints of a large one, which, having seized a
moose-deer in a river, dragged it for a quarter of a mile along the
sandy banks, and afterwards devoured it all except part of the
hind-quarters; and the moose which had been treated in this
unceremonious way, judging from the size and hardness of the bones, must
have been upwards of a year old, when it would weigh as much as an ox of
the same age.
Collecting the scattered remnants of the unfortunate Indian, who was no
other than the old woman's son, Lawrence covered them over with leaves
and sticks. He then skinned the bear and cut off its claws, which he
carried away as trophies, along with one or two choice steaks cut from
the creature's flank. He also collected the weapons and part of the
dress of the Indian, with which he returned to the camp.
"Heyday! Lawrence, what have you got there, lad?" said Reuben, as his
son came up and threw the bundle on the ground.
"A brown bear, father."
"Well done!" exclaimed Reuben, with a look of pride, for although his
son had shot many a black bear in the forest, he had never before stood
face to face with such a monster as that whose skin and claws now lay at
his feet.
"It would have been well, father," said Lawrence gravely, "if the man
who first saw this had owned a gun. His arrows were no better than
needles in such a hide. See here!"
He drew from his breast the bloody portions of dress which had belonged
to the slaughtered Indian.
"The son of the old woman has gone to the happy hunting-grounds," said
Swiftarrow, referring to the heaven of the Indian, as he lifted and
examined the dress.
"Ay, ay," said Reuben sadly, "'tis the chances of the wilderness. You'd
better tell the poor old creetur', Swiftarrow; you understand her ways
and lingo better than me."
Silently the Indian went to the old woman, and laid the bloody garments
before her. At first she did not understand what had happened.
Suddenly the truth flashed upon her, and she looked quickly up into the
grave countenance of the Indian, but death and sorrow appeared to have
already done their worst on her, for she neither spoke nor wept for some
time. She took up the shreds of cloth and turned them over tenderly;
but neither sign nor groan escaped her. Evidently she had been already
so stunned by the horrors which had surrounded her for some time, that
this additional blow did not tell--at least, not at first--but Reuben
observed, while trying to comfort her some time afterwards, that a few
tears were coursing slowly down her withered cheeks.
That night, round the camp-fire, the pioneers held earnest counsel, and
resolved, sadly but firmly, that their projected journey must be given
up for that season.
"It's a hard thing to do," said Reuben, as he lay at full length before
the fire after supper, "to give up our plans after comin' so far; but it
ain't possible to carry that old 'ooman along with us an' it's not to be
thought of to leave her behind to starve, so there's nothin' for it but
to go back an' take her wi' us to the settlements. I would feel like a
murderer if I was to leave one o' God's creeturs to perish in the
wilderness. What think you, Lawrence?"
"I think you are right, father," replied the youth, with a deep sigh.
"An' what says Swiftarrow?"
"Go back," was the Indian's prompt and laconic answer.
"Well, then, we're all agreed, so we'll turn back on our trail
to-morrow; but I shall try again next year if I'm above ground. I once
know'd a Yankee who had what he called a motto, an' it was this, `Never
give in, 'xcept w'en yer wrong.' I think I'll take to that motto. It
seems to me a good 'un."
In proof, we presume, of his sincerity, Reuben Guff rolled himself in
his blanket, stretched his feet towards the fire, pillowed his head on a
bundle of moss, and at once _gave in_ to the seductive influences of
sleep; an example which was so irresistible that his companions followed
it without delay.
CHAPTER THREE.
INTRODUCES THE KING OF PIONEERS.
Discarding space and ignoring time, we seize you by the hand, reader,
and bound away with you still deeper into the northern wilderness, away
into that remote region which, at the time we write of, was the _ultima
thule_ of the fur-traders of Canada,--beyond which lay the great unknown
world, stretching to the pole. Here, amid the grand scenery of the
Rocky Mountains, lies the Athabasca Lake, also styled the Lake of the
Hills. We prefer the latter name, as being more romantic.
This is no pretty pond such as we in England are wont to visit and
delight in during our summer holidays. It is a great sheet of water; a
grand fresh-water sea, 200 miles long and 15 miles broad--a fitting gem
for the bosom of the mighty region on which it glitters.
A year has fled since the period of our last chapter, and here, in a
birch-bark canoe on the waters of the Lake of the Hills, we find our
pioneers--Reuben Guff, his son Lawrence, and his Indian friend
Swiftarrow. There is also a young Indian woman in the canoe--
Swiftarrow's wife.
The kind-hearted red man adopted the old woman who had been rescued on
their previous trip, but, not finding her a good substitute for his own
mother, he bethought him of adding a young squaw to his establishment.
While he meditated on this step, the old woman died. About the same
time Reuben Guff made proposals to him to join him on a second "v'yage
of diskivery." The Indian agreed; got married off-hand, and took his
bride along with him. We now find them all four at the Lake of the
Hills.
It may be as well to observe, in passing, that Indian brides are usually
more robust than those of civilised communities. They are quite
competent to follow their lords on the most arduous canoe voyages, and,
besides being able to wield the paddle with great dexterity, are
exceedingly useful in managing what may be styled the domestic matters
of the camp. They also keep up a constant supply of the Indian's
indispensable foot-gear--moccasins--which are so slender in their nature
that a pair may be completely worn-out in a single day of hard hunting.
The brown bride, therefore, was not a hindrance to the party, but a
useful member of it, as well as a pleasant companion. True, her
companionship consisted chiefly in answering "yes" and "no" when spoken
to, and in smiling pleasantly at all times; but this was sufficient to
satisfy the moderate demands of her male friends upon her intellectual
resources.
"Fort Chipewyan at _last_," said Reuben, resting his paddle across the
canoe and looking earnestly towards the horizon; "I hope we ain't too
late after all our pushin' on. It would be hard to find that Monsieur
Mackenzie had started."
"Too much ice in the lake," said Swiftarrow. "He has not gone yet."
"I'm not so sure o' that," observed Lawrence. "If reports be true,
Monsieur Mackenzie is not the man to wait until the ice is all off the
lakes and nothin' but plain sailin' lies before him."
"That's true, lad," replied Reuben, resuming his paddle. "I wonder," he
murmured to himself, as he gazed wistfully towards the unknown north, "I
wonder if the big river is really there, an' if it _do_ jine the sea?"
That same question was put to himself that same evening--though not for
the first time--by one of the inhabitants of Fort Chipewyan. The fort
was a mere group of two or three log-huts. In the largest of these huts
sat a man whose strongly-marked handsome countenance gave evidence of a
bold enterprising spirit and a resolute will. He pored over a map for
some time, carefully tracing a few pencil-lines into the blank spaces on
the paper, and then murmured, in words which were almost identical with
those of Reuben Guff, "I wonder if it joins the Polar Sea?"
This man was the true pioneer, or, rather, the king of pioneers, to whom
Guff gave place without a murmur, for Reuben was a modest man; and the
moment he heard that one of the gentlemen of the Canadian fur-trading
company had taken up his favourite hobby, and meant to work out the
problem, he resolved, as he said, "to play second fiddle," all the more
that the man who thus unwittingly supplanted him was a mountaineer of
the Scottish Highlands.
"It's of no manner of use, you see," he said to Swiftarrow, when
conversing on the subject, "for me to go off on a v'yage o' diskivery
w'en a gentleman like Monsieur Mackenzie, with a good edication an'
scienteefic knowledge and the wealth of a fur company at his back, is
goin' to take it in hand. No; the right thing for Reuben Guff to do in
the circumstances is to jine him an' play second fiddle--or third, if
need be."
Alexander Mackenzie--while seated in the lowly hut of that solitary
outpost poring over his map, trying to penetrate mentally into those
mysterious and unknown lands which lay just beyond him--saw, in
imagination, a great river winding its course among majestic mountains
towards the shores of the ice-laden polar seas. He also saw the lofty
peaks and snow-clad ridges of that mighty range which forms the
back-bone of the American continent, and--again in imagination--passed
beyond it and penetrated the vast wilderness to the Pacific, thus adding
new lands to the British Crown, and opening up new sources of wealth to
the fur company of which he was one of the most energetic members. He
saw all this in imagination, we say, but he did _not_, at that time, see
his name attached to one of the largest American rivers, classed with
the names of the most noted discoverers of the world, and himself
knighted. Still less, if possible, did he see, even in his wildest
flights of fancy, that the book of travels which he was destined to
write, would be translated into French by the order of Napoleon the
First, for the express purpose of being studied by Marshal Bernadotte,
with the view of enabling that warrior to devise a roundabout and
unlooked-for attack on Canada--in rear, as it were--from the region of
the northern wilderness--a fact which is well worthy of record! [See
Appendix for an interesting letter on the subject.]
None of these things loomed on the mind of the modest though romantic
and enterprising man, for at that time he was only at the beginning of
his career of discovery.
It may not be out of place here to say a word or two as to the early
career of the hero whose footsteps we are about to follow.
He was a Highlander, to begin with; and possessed all the fire and
determination peculiar to that race. At an early period of life he was
led to engage in commercial enterprises in the country north-west of
Lake Superior, joined the North-West Fur Company of Canada in 1784, and
went into the Indian country the following spring. It is not necessary
to say more than that Alexander Mackenzie proved himself to be a
first-rate fur-trader at a time when the fur-trade was carried on under
great difficulties and amid severe privations. For many years he was in
charge of Fort Chipewyan, the remote establishment to which we have just
conducted our reader. Seven years before his coming on the scene, the
Lake of the Hills had not been visited by white men, and was known only
through Indian report. When Mackenzie became ruler of the district, all
beyond the lake was _terra incognita_. His spirit was one which
thirsted to explore the unknown. He was eminently fitted both to hold
an advanced post and to invade new regions, being robust in
constitution, powerful in frame, inquisitive in mind, and enterprising
in spirit. Frequently had he arrived at Fort Chipewyan with ninety or a
hundred men without any provision for their sustenance for the winter
save their fishing-nets and guns. He was therefore accustomed to live
from hand to mouth, and to depend on his own exertions and resources in
a country where the winter is upwards of eight months long and the
severity of the climate extreme.
It was in June 1789 that he made preparations to start on his first
voyage of discovery.
Rising from the table at which he had been studying his projected route,
Mackenzie turned, with the air of a man who has made up his mind, and
said to a clerk who was smoking beside the fireplace--
"Le Roux, if we cannot prevail on these Indians to accompany us, I have
determined to start without them. Has the small canoe been gummed?"
"It has," answered Le Roux, "but I would advise delay for a day or two.
If we give them time, the Indians may change their minds; besides, the
ice has not yet sufficiently cleared away."
Mackenzie paced the room impatiently, and his eyes flashed for one
moment with impatience. They were deep blue eyes that could beam with
melting tenderness or sparkle with suppressed passion--it is but just to
add that passion in his case was usually suppressed, for he was a lover
of peace, as most truly great and powerful men usually are:
"Let us see now," he said, sitting down in front of Le Roux, "how our
resources stand. In my canoe there will be the four Canadians and the
German. Then there's our Indian friend, English Chief and his two
wives, who will embark in the second-sized canoe. The two young Indians
whom we want to accompany us with their wives must make up their minds
to-night, else I will start without them. Your own canoe with goods for
trade and provisions, will not be fully loaded; I shall therefore place
in it the provisions that we can't carry, and when we come to the place
where you are to stop and trade, and where I shall bid you farewell, we
shall doubtless have eaten our lading down sufficiently to take the
whole on board. See, by the way, that the goods and trinkets to be
given in presents as we go along are not placed in the wrong canoe."
"They are already laid with the other goods, and also the nets and
ammunition by themselves," said Le Roux, rising and laying down his
pipe.
At that moment Reuben Guff entered with his friends. The surprise of
Mackenzie was great on beholding them, but greater still was his delight
when he learned their errand. The young Indians were forthwith told
that their services would not now be required, and our friends--
including Swiftarrow's wife, Darkeye--were at once added to the
exploring party.
Next day the expedition set forth from Fort Chipewyan and swept over the
broad breast of the Lake of the Hills.
We will not trace their course over known ground. Suffice it to say
that their troubles began at once. Soon after leaving the lake they
came to a rapid part of the river which flows out of it, where they were
obliged to land and carry canoes and goods to the still water further
down, but here the ice was still unthawed on the banks, rendering the
process of reloading difficult. Soon after they came to a place called
the _Portage_ _d'Embarras_, which is occasioned by driftwood filling up
the channel of the river. There they entered the Slave River, where
there is a portage or carrying-place named the Mountain, the landing at
which is very steep and close to the fall. Below this fall there is a
mile of dangerous rapids--and here they met with their first disaster.
Reuben and Swiftarrow having landed with part of the cargo of the small
canoe, had left it in charge of Darkeye,--so named because of her large
and lustrous eyes, which, however, were the only good points about her,
for she was ill-favoured and clumsy, though strong of frame and a
diligent worker. While she was moving from one point of rock to another
that appeared to her more convenient for landing, the canoe was caught
by an eddy and swept in a moment out into the strong current, down which
it sped with fearful velocity towards the falls. Darkeye was quite
collected and cool, but she happened to dip her paddle on the edge of a
sunk rock with such vigour that the canoe overturned. Upon the heights
above her husband saw the accident, and stood rooted for a moment in
helpless dismay to the spot. It chanced that Lawrence Guff was at the
time the only man near the unfortunate woman, who, although she swam
like an otter, could not gain the bank. Seeing this, the youth sprang
towards a jutting rock that almost overhung the fall, and entering the
rushing stream so deeply that he could barely retain his foothold,
caught the woman by the hair of the head as she was sweeping towards the
edge of the fall. The two swayed for a few seconds on the verge of
destruction; then Swiftarrow came bounding down the bank like a deer,
and, catching Lawrence by the hand, dragged them both out of danger; but
before they were fairly landed the canoe was carried over the falls,
dashed to pieces, and in a few seconds its shreds were tossed wildly on
the surging rapids far down the river.
This accident caused them little loss beyond the canoe, which was soon
replaced by another, purchased from a party of Indians, with whom they
fell in that same evening.
Passing through Slave River, they swept out on the bright waters of
Great Slave Lake. Over these they sped during several days. This lake
is one of the largest fresh-water oceans of the continent, about 250
miles long and 50 broad.
And here the work of exploration fairly began. Great Slave Lake was at
that time imperfectly known from Indian report; and the river of which
they were in search flowed, it was supposed, out of its western
extremity. Here also Monsieur Le Roux was to be left behind with a
party of men to prosecute the fur-trade.
CHAPTER FOUR.
VICISSITUDES OF THE VOYAGE--INDIANS MET WITH, ETCETERA.
We have passed over the first three weeks of the voyage rapidly, but it
must not be supposed that therefore it was all plain sailing. On the
contrary, the travellers were delayed by thunderstorms, and heavy rains,
and gales, and impeded by ice, which, even in the middle of June lay
thick on the waters in some parts. They were also tormented by hosts of
mosquitoes, and at times they found difficulty in procuring food--
despite the ability of our friends Reuben, Swiftarrow, and Lawrence, who
were constituted hunters to the expedition. At other times, however,
the supply of food was abundant and varied. On one occasion the hunters
brought in seven geese, a beaver, and four ducks, besides which a large
supply of excellent trout and other fish was obtained from the nets; and
on another occasion they procured two swans, ten beavers, and a goose.
But sometimes they returned empty-handed, or with a single bird or so,
while the nets produced nothing at all. Deer were also shot
occasionally, and they found immense numbers of wild cranberries,
strawberries, rasps, and other berries, besides small spring onions; so
that, upon the whole, they fared well, and days of abstinence were more
than compensated by days of superabundance.
One evening while they were coasting along this great lake, some Indians
were discovered on the shore, and the travellers landed to make
inquiries of them as to the nature of the country beyond. There were
three lodges belonging to the Red-knife Indians, who were so named
because their knifes were made of the copper found in that region. To
the leading man of these, English Chief, being interpreter, addressed
himself.
English Chief, we may remark in passing, was one of the followers of the
chief who conducted Hearne on his expedition to the Coppermine River;
since which event he had been a principal leader of his countrymen who
were in the habit of carrying furs to the English fur-traders at
Churchill, on Hudson's Bay, and was much attached to the interest of the
Hudson Bay Company, which, at that time, was in opposition to the
Canadian or Nor'-West Company. These circumstances procured him the
title of the English Chief. An able, active, but self-sufficient and
somewhat obstinate chief he was, and caused Mackenzie a good deal of
anxiety and much trouble to keep him with the party.
In answer to his queries, the principal man of the Red-knife Indians
said that there were many more of his tribe a short distance off, and
that he would send a man to fetch them. He also said that the explorers
should see no more of them at that time, because the Slave and Beaver
Indians, as well as others of the tribe, were about to depart, and would
not be in that region again till the time when the swans cast their
feathers.
"Ask him," said Mackenzie, "if he and his friends have many furs to
dispose of."
To this the Indian replied by at once producing upwards of eight large
packs of good beaver and marten skins; and added the information that
his friends had plenty more.
"Now, then, Le Roux," said Mackenzie, turning to his clerk, "here you
and I shall part. This seems a good spot and a good opportunity for
opening up the trade with these Indians. When the rest of them arrive
we shall have a palaver, and then you shall remain to look after them,
so, open up your packs, and get ready a few small presents without
delay."
That day was spent in considerable bustle and excitement; the Indians
being overjoyed that the white traders had at last penetrated into their
country; and their joy being increased by the distribution of such
trifling, but much-prized, gifts as glass beads, knives, small
looking-glasses, etcetera. It rained in torrents all the time but this
did not damp their spirits; and as for their bodies--they were used to
it! In the afternoon Mackenzie assembled the whole tribe, and made them
the following speech, which was translated by English Chief in a very
pompous manner, for that excellent red-skin was fully alive to the
dignity of his position.
"My friends," began our explorer, "I am glad to meet with you. The
white man and the Indians are always glad to meet--they can benefit each
other mutually. Each has got what the other requires. I have come for
the purpose of opening up trade with you. It is true that I myself will
take my departure to-morrow, because I am in search of new lands; but
some of my people will remain on the spot, and if you bring in a
sufficient quantity of furs to make it answer, my men will return to
Fort Chipewyan for more goods, and will spend the winter here. They
will build a fort and continue to dwell among you as long as you shall
be found to deserve it."
At this point the speaker paused, and the dark-skinned audience gave
vent to a loud "Ho!" which was equivalent to the British "Hear, hear!"
"In regard to my own work," continued Mackenzie, "I intend to search
for, and find the great river, which, it is said, flows out of this
lake, and follow its current to the sea--or, as you call it, the great
salt lake. Do my brothers know anything about this river? If so, let
them speak."
Hereupon an old chief, with hair like small iron wire, and a skin like
shoe-leather, got up, and delivered himself as follows--
"We are glad to hear what our white brother says. It encourages us to
know that you will make a trading fort in our country, for we have need
of one. Hitherto we have had to travel far--very far--with our furs; or
if, to save trouble, we intrusted our furs to the Chipewyans, they often
pillaged us, or, at most, gave us very little for the fruits of our
toil. For a long time we have been so discouraged that we had no motive
to pursue the beaver, except to obtain a sufficiency of food and
clothing. Now if you come to us, we shall be happy--wauch!"
The last word was equivalent to the expression--"There, think o' that!"
The old man paused as if to give his audience time for reflection.
"As to the great river," he continued sententiously, "we know of its
existence; but none of our tribe has ever followed its course down to
the great salt lake. We earnestly advise our brother not to go there,
for it is a dreadful river. It is said that there are two impassable
falls in its course; and it is so long that old age will come upon you
before the time of your return. You will also encounter monsters of
horrid shapes and awful strength on the land and in the water--wauch!"
The old chief began to glare solemnly at this point, and the whole tribe
followed his example.
"It is said," he continued, "that there are bears which eat the trees as
if they were grass; whose cubs, even at their birth, are strong enough
to kill the stoutest man. There are monsters in the river so big that a
canoe full of men would be but a mouthful to them. There are so few
animals or fish fit for food, that you will all certainly be starved.
And, besides all this, evil spirits dwell there, whose chief delight
lies in attacking, killing, roasting, and devouring men--wauch!"
Here the Indian sat down with the decision of a man who has given
unanswerable arguments for the overturning of foolish plans;
nevertheless, Mackenzie's plans remained unaltered. Not so, however,
those of a young Indian, who had been engaged to guide the explorers to
the other end of the lake, in order to save them from the loss of time
which would be occasioned by the necessity of coasting round its
numerous bays. The imagination of this youth--Coppernose, as Lawrence
Guff facetiously styled him--was so wrought upon by the dreadful
description of the great river, that he manifested a strong desire to
draw back; but by the timely addition of a small kettle, an axe, a
knife, and a few beads to the gifts already bestowed on him, he was
eventually persuaded to venture.