WITH THE DELAWARES AND CREES
Sir George Head, elder brother of the great South American explorer
and Colonial Governor, was a sort of Ralegh on a small scale, inasmuch
as he figured in the various roles of sailor, soldier, traveller, and
courtier. The greater part of his time from 1814 to 1830 was spent in
and about Nova Scotia, Quebec, and Ungava, his military duties at
Halifax, as chief of the commissariat, giving him plenty of
opportunity for combining pleasure with business in long journeys
northward.
Late in the autumn of 1828 he set out on a tour north-westwards from
Halifax, intending to devote his six months' furlough to hunting among
the Cree Indians of New Brunswick and Eastern Quebec. It was not a
journey that would commend itself to people who love the sun and the
fireside, for though the district for which he was making is in the
same latitude as Cornwall, the average winter temperature may be put
down as 19 deg. F. A coach took him and his servant across country as far
as the Annapolis Basin, whence it was only a sixty-mile run by steam
packet to St. John; and here there was no difficulty in obtaining a
large canoe with three Delaware Indians to paddle it and act as
guides.
Of the St. John River, up which quite big steamers travel over two
hundred miles nowadays, comparatively little was then known, except
its lower reaches, and its source, which lies north-westwards in the
State of Maine; and even the Indian guides would not undertake to go
many miles beyond Fredericton.
"What do you mean by 'many miles beyond'?" asked Major Head, when, on
passing that town some days later, the Indians reminded him of their
contract.
"Ten miles, or perhaps fifteen. We are strangers beyond that, and,
though the Cree Indians are akin to us, they do not love us." This was
perfectly true, for the Crees, Blackfeet, and other of the less
civilised Algonquin redskins despised the Delaware Indians as mere
cockneys.
In the end, the guides promised that they would go as far as the next
town, which was twenty miles farther, admitting that they might
possibly have business there. The nature of that business soon leaked
out, for suddenly the Indian in the bow dropped his paddle, snatched
up a spear from a small bundle of those implements that lay to hand,
leant over the side, and brought up a salmon nearly three feet long.
The other canoemen at once abandoned their paddling and stood
expectant, spear in hand. The Major had never caught salmon in any
other way than with rod and line, and he, too, took up a spear,
determined to distinguish himself; but, though they waited patiently
for another hour, not a second fish was seen, and at length the
Indians picked up their paddles again and moved on.
"We may get some to-night," said one of them; "though it is almost too
late in the year. Nearly all of them have reached the sea by this
time, but it was worth our while to come so far on speculation.
Between Fredericton and the sea there is little chance of catching
anything, for the timber rafters frighten all the fish, so that they
seldom rise."
At evening they landed to make their camp for the night; but, soon
after supper, instead of lying down as usual, the Delawares announced
that they were going fishing. By way of a preliminary, each lighted a
substantial brand of pitch-pine, and, taking up their spears, got into
the boat again, Head following them. And this time there appeared to
be considerably more chance for the fishermen; the silence and
darkness and loneliness of the spot were, of course, in their favour,
but of even more importance were the torches, which would appeal to
the curiosity of any salmon that might be about. Even in daylight the
Indian fishermen more often than not regard a flame of some sort as a
necessary adjunct to their work.
Sport opened briskly and brilliantly. Long before the Englishman's
eyes had accustomed themselves to looking down into the water by this
constantly moving artificial light, the Indians had caught over a
dozen fish; and still the silly creatures came peeping to the surface
or hovering a few feet below it.
With the "beginner's luck" that is proverbial, the first salmon that
came within his reach fell an easy prey to the Major's spear, so easy,
in fact, that the redskins smiled broadly at his triumphant
satisfaction, for they knew that it was the one happy chance in a
million. He began to think so, too, when, time after time, he darted
the spear into the water without making a second catch. His eye and
hand were well trained to every kind of sport; and, of course, he knew
that hitting an object in water and out of water are two very
different things. Over and over again he would have taken an oath that
his spear had struck its mark, and yet it came up empty. He grew more
and more impatient and venturesome, and, in the end, naturally met
with the reward that he might have expected: lost his balance and went
heels over head into the water.
He was a bold and strong man who had faced danger and death in many
forms, but the icy chill of that water almost prompted him to scream
out; and, as it gurgled and bubbled over his ears, he decided that his
chance of ever getting out of it alive was but small, for he was
wearing top-boots, thick leather breeches, a seal-skin jacket, and a
heavy overcoat. Nevertheless, he struck out desperately and reached
the surface again. If he could only keep himself up for a few seconds
he was safe. At once catching sight of him, one of the Indians uttered
a shout, leant forward with his paddle, and held it towards the
drowning man. A couple of laboured strokes brought him near enough to
clutch the blade of it, and he was speedily drawn to the stern of the
boat.
"Hold there," cried the Indian. "No, don't do that," for Head was
trying might and main to draw himself up. As every swimmer knows, it
is not the easiest thing in the world to get into a light boat from
the water, even when one has no clothes on and is not numbed to the
very marrow with cold.
"What on earth are you trying to do?" he spluttered, as the other two
Delawares also took up their paddles. What they were about to do was
soon clear enough; they meant to tow him ashore, for suddenly the
paddles flashed through the water and, despite the weight behind it,
the canoe moved rapidly towards the bank.
"Wait a minute, you precious fools," gasped the Major wrathfully; but
they never so much as turned their heads. True, he had never seen a
canoe move so swiftly in all his life, yet those forty or fifty yards
to the bank were like miles, and when, springing ashore, two of the
Indians bent over to help him out of the water, he could scarcely use
his feet to scramble up the low bank.
"Why ever didn't you pull me out straight away, or keep still till I
got into the boat?" he asked, as he stood and shivered before the fire
while his man gave him a rub down with a blanket. The Delawares looked
grave and wise.
"You are a tall and a heavy man. You might have upset the boat--and
then we should have lost all our fish."
Sir George does not record the answer that he made to these
curmudgeonly rascals who preferred endangering a man's life to the
risk of losing a few salmon. But perhaps they were only having their
revenge on him for having spoilt their night's work by driving away
all the fish.
The next afternoon, fishing and paddling by turns, they came to a town
or village of some pretensions--the last on the river. Head again
tried to persuade the Indians to agree to go farther, but fruitlessly;
and their utmost concession was that, as one of their number was going
into the town to buy some goods while the others sold their fish at
the wharf, he would make inquiries about procuring new guides. The
Major sent his man across with the luggage to the only decent inn of
the place, and himself idled about the jetty, talking to the remaining
Indians and their customers.
"He has found a guide for you," said one of the Delawares at last,
pointing to a strange figure that came stalking along the quay behind
the third Indian.
The new arrival was a middle-aged man of such ferocious aspect that
Head fancied he could foresee trouble before they had gone far
together. He was one of the Crees, and his personal beauty--probably
never at any time great--was not improved by the scars and tattoo
marks that covered his face, arms, and chest. Cold though the weather
was becoming, he was naked, but for his moccasins and a sort of kilt
or petticoat made of feathers and deer-skin. His hair, also decorated
with feathers, extended to his waist, and he wore a string of odds and
ends round his neck: glass beads, teeth, bits of metal, coins, and
buttons. He carried a broad-bladed spear nearly eight feet high in one
hand, and an enormous club in the other, while from his neck or
shoulders hung bow, quiver, tomahawk, and two knives.
Head, who spoke the Algonquin dialect perfectly well, bade him give
some account of himself, and he replied, in a voice whose mildness
scarcely fitted his fierce and repulsive appearance, that he had
ridden down from his camp near Presque Isle (in Maine) to guide a
Yankee fur-trader across the New Brunswick boundary, and had now been
waiting two days on the chance of a similar job for his return
journey.
"Who did you suppose would be likely to be going up there from
_here_?" asked the soldier suspiciously.
"There are many French people who come from here to buy our furs. Is
it not true?" The new guide turned fiercely on the Delawares for
confirmation, and they nodded, making little effort to disguise their
fear of him. Hitherto they had generally shown themselves cool-headed
enough, but in the presence of this forest savage they seemed afraid
to say that their souls were their own.
Head reflected that he was becoming very tired of the river, and
further, that it might now be frozen hard any day. Moreover, it was
but a roundabout way of travelling compared to the forest, which,
being only of pine and spruce, offered none of the obstructions of
the creeper-clad woods farther south. Could he hire or buy horses?
he asked of a negro working close at hand. Ay, any number of
them; mustangs were being brought over the boundary every day by
enterprising Americans, and could be bought for a couple of
pounds a head.
"Very well, then." The Major turned to the Cree again. "Call for me at
the inn to-morrow morning at nine, and I shall be ready to start."
Arrangements were soon made as to horses, and Head, who had not slept
without his clothes for a week, and might not see a Christian bed for
weeks to come, went off to his room, resolved upon at least one
night's good rest. Coming down to his breakfast in the morning, he
found that his man had put out, cleaned, and loaded a pair of pistols
for him.
"Beg pardon, Major; most disreputable-looking party that guide, sir."
"Well--yes; we don't want to know too many of his sort. We'll keep an
eye on him in case he has some idea of leading us into an ambush; but
don't let him imagine that we suspect him."
Head had finished his breakfast and was strolling into the yard at the
back of the house to see if the horses were ready, when a violent
uproar arose in the bar, which was at the other end of the passage:
women screaming and running hither and thither, loafers shouting and
laughing. Yielding to natural curiosity, he turned back along this
passage and was just in time to see a stranger sight than he had ever
witnessed in all his six-and-thirty years. There, gesticulating,
stammering, and struggling, was the terrible Indian of the day before,
and, behind him, one hand firmly grasping his long hair, the other
buffeting him liberally over head and ears, was the landlady--a sturdy
Irishwoman--who was "helping him into the street," at the same time
expressing her opinion of him with great volubility. In her wake
followed two chamber-maids, each armed with a mop, and from one of
them the traveller learned that the Indian had already been forbidden
to enter the house on account of his drunken and riotous behaviour
there two days earlier.
"We only keep one manservant, and he's frightened of him, so Missis
had to take him in hand," explained the girl cheerfully.
The valiant brave made no second attempt to enter the inn, and stood
meekly by his horse till the travellers were ready, and Head--with
difficulty keeping a straight face--bade him lead on. They were soon
riding at a good level pace along the forest track, which, by its
narrowness and few signs of recent use, did not promise a meeting with
many travelling companions. At first the Indian only answered curtly
to the remarks addressed to him, but, little by little, he forgot the
insult to his dignity and had become quite chatty by the time they
stopped to rest the horses and eat the dinner which they had brought
with them. He said they would pass no more inns--no more white
habitations of any sort, in fact--till they came to the United States
boundary, and but very few then; and no Indian camps that side of
Presque Isle, which was still forty-five miles distant. From there the
travellers could, if they chose, journey as far as the St. Lawrence
with a party of Crees who would soon be starting away for the winter
hunting, and who would show them where they could get a boat across
the estuary.
They rode another twenty miles before sunset, and then halted for the
night. While the Indian was making the fire he several times glanced
round him to windward and sniffed the air suspiciously.
"There will be snow before morning," he said; and indeed, during the
past hour there had been well-nigh an Arctic chill in the air, though
it still wanted a week or two of the beginning of winter. That snow
was coming was bad hearing; not that two men, who had often slept
practically under water during the war in Spain, were likely to shirk
one night in the snow; but because they had not troubled to bring many
provisions, being unwilling to hamper themselves and relying on
finding abundance of game in the forest.
If a heavy snow should come, the chances of killing anything fit to
eat would be diminished tenfold, for hares, rabbits, and squirrels
would stay at home; and further, the journey towards a district where
they were safe to meet with plenty of animals (elk, caribou, etc.,
that had just migrated to the forest from farther north) would occupy
thrice the time they had allowed for it.
"You and I must take watch and watch to-night," said Head to his
servant, not unmindful, in face of new dangers, of the likelihood of
their guide's playing them false. "We don't want any of this good
man's 'surprises'; if you turn in when you've had your supper, I'll
call you soon after midnight and we'll change guard."
Immediately after supper the Indian rolled himself in his blanket and
Head was left to amuse himself. When his man roused him at six the
next morning, he found the ground more than a foot deep in snow, and
the Indian, who was just returning from filling the breakfast kettle
from the stream hard by, greeted him with the news that the ice was
several inches thick. But, he added, there would be no fear of famine;
they would have sport enough before the day was out.
"What sport?"
"Wolves!" The Cree smacked his lips as if he were speaking of a
Mansion House banquet.
"Ah! Then that is what I heard just as I was falling asleep."
"Most likely; their track lies all round our camp; not close, for they
feared our fire."
"Is there more snow to come, do you think?" None was falling now.
"Not unless the wind gets up again. But we ought soon to be moving; it
will be bad going for the horses."
The hardy little mustangs seemed not a whit the worse for their snowy
bed, and stepped out bravely as soon as they were mounted. But Head
pulled a long face as he remembered how little corn he had brought
with him; truly the cobbler's wife was going the worst shod; he who
had control of the entire military commissariat for that district had
left the food for his men and horses to chance, on a journey of sixty
miles, twenty-five of which had still to be covered! Of course, the
pace they made was wretched, for the snow was fetlock-deep at the
best; and, at the worst, it had risen to drifts of ten feet, which had
to be dodged or skirted. Three miles an hour was the utmost that could
be expected, making allowances for everything; and by the time the
horses had gone twelve miles, it was clear that they must have a
rest.
"So our next meal is to be wolf, eh?" said Head as he surveyed a lump
of salt beef of which none would be left when three men with
frost-sharpened appetites had eaten their fill. The Indian nodded.
"And they are not far away; I have heard them for the last hour. The
horses can smell them now; you will find that they will not touch
their oats." This was true; two of the tethered animals crouched
shiveringly, disdaining their food, while the third strained at his
halter as though he meditated flight.
"What does it matter?" said the Cree. "We have but thirteen miles to
go; we shall be at our camp soon after dark, and my people will be as
brothers to you. As for the wolves--" he laughed boastfully--"I will
kill them by the dozen if need be."
"Yes; we've seen something of your bravery before," said the Major in
English. He divided the one remaining loaf and the meat into three
equal parts. "You two can do as you like; I shall only eat half my
share now."
The servant followed his example, but the Indian was resolved that the
future should take care of itself. He had scarcely swallowed his last
mouthful when he started up.
"Mount! Quick! They are coming!"
"Then what's the good of mounting, you infernal coward?" said the
Major, snatching up his gun. "We can't race wolves."
The guide made no answer; but, slipping his horse's halter, vaulted to
his back, and might have ridden away but that Head turned his
gun-barrel on him.
"You stay where you are.... Now, Sanders, we must keep them off the
horses if we can. Fire the moment they show their noses, and trust to
their eating up their brothers while we----_Look out!_"
A pack of over forty wolves came yelping through the trees, with a
strange, bouncing motion which showed that even they were seriously
impeded by the snow.
"Fire; and keep one eye on the redskin," muttered Head.
A wolf went down before the servant's first barrel and, from the break
in their ranks, several of the others appeared to be falling on the
carcase. A second and third and fourth fell to the guns; but the
wolves had smelt horse-flesh, and neither noise nor gunpowder nor dead
comrades could keep them from following up the scent. The two white
men reloaded, fired, and loaded again with the coolness habitual with
soldiers; but it was plain enough that the pack would not be kept off
much longer.
"I'm afraid we shall have to give up the horses after all," said Head,
as the foremost wolves bounded contemptuously past or over the last of
their number that had been shot.
"Why do you not mount?" bawled the Indian in his ear. Head had
forgotten his existence for the moment. "That is the only way to save
your horse. You have had your play; let me show you what the red man
can do." As he finished speaking he methodically pulled his quiver
forward and began to pour arrows into the howling pack more swiftly
than the eye could follow them, every one of them carrying death to a
wolf.
"Up, Sanders, and use your pistols! By Jingo, that fellow was right!"
shouted Head as he leapt into his saddle.
"You see? It is quite easy," remarked the Indian with as much
_sang-froid_ as though he were at target-practice. "When I have
emptied my quiver they will all be dead; if not, I have my lance.
Don't waste any more of your powder." And all the while he went on
shooting.
The soldiers could do little but stare at the man's amazing coolness;
he who had writhed and screamed when attacked by an irate Irishwoman,
was now killing wolves at the rate of about twelve per minute, and the
only time he broke off from his task was to draw his knife and stab
that one of the wolves that was bold enough to venture a spring at his
horse. It was plain enough that he had known what he was talking about
when he counselled mounting the horses. Wolves that would tear an
unridden horse to shreds would not dare touch one that was mounted,
unless they were maddened by hunger; and so early in winter this could
hardly be the case.
"Yah! Now run away, cowards, and tell your brethren to come," shrieked
the Cree, when, without waiting for his last few shots, the remaining
dozen wolves turned tail and skulked away. Then Head stretched out his
hand and patted the blanketed shoulder.
"Well done; I did wrong to call you coward. You shall have double
payment when we reach your camp, and I will make you a present of
these two horses."
"We must have my arrows back, in case of further accident," said the
redskin, making neither much nor little of his achievement. In a few
minutes he had cut all the barbs from the carcases, and proceeded to
skin the three primest wolves, cut away the fore and hind quarters,
hung the three "saddles" on his horse's withers, and remounted. The
Cree Indians and the Eskimos will none of them refuse roast wolf, and
the ribs are considered a special delicacy.
With a little coaxing from the guide the horses now ate their corn;
and, not long after dark, that much misjudged individual led his
employer proudly into the Indian camp. The chief, very much astonished
at finding a white man able to speak his tongue with fluency,
promised, in return for a ridiculously small sum of money, to allow
the travellers to join his great hunting party which was to start
northwards for elks, caribous, etc., in a few days' time.
During those few days Major Head had an opportunity of noting various
ceremonies peculiar to the northern Indians, which were quite new to
him. One of these was a dance which signified a loving farewell
between the hunters and the warriors who remained behind to guard the
camp, and was precisely the same as that which Samuel Hearne saw
farther north-west.[1] In this, the two parties formed into two single
files, and, bow in the left hand and an arrow in the right, approached
each other, walking backwards. When the lines were almost touching one
another, both turned suddenly, each party starting back with feigned
surprise at seeing the other; then, with astonishing quickness,
transferred the bow to the right hand and the arrow to the left, in
token that their intentions were strictly friendly.
[1] See "Adventures in the Arctic Regions." (Seeley and Co., 1909.)
The other ceremony was also a dance, the celebrated snow-shoe dance,
which took place when all was ready for the departure northwards; and
in this Head was especially interested, because he was himself an
expert on "shoes." Two or three spears, elaborately decorated with
feathers or other trophies of the chase, were stuck upright in the
snow, and to one of them a pair of snow-shoes was hung; and, after
prayers and incantations by the old chief, ten mighty men of the
tribe, each carrying his weapons, formed themselves in a ring round
the spears. Waddling, sliding, dancing, or jumping, these passed round
and round the consecrated shoes till all were satisfied that the Great
Spirit's aid had been enlisted, and that the ghosts of the animals or
birds that they might kill would never return to vex the slayers.
[Illustration: THE SNOW-SHOE DANCE OF THE RED INDIANS
A religious ceremony at the opening of the winter hunting season.]