It was found, on their arrival at the home of Duncan McKay senior, that
Duncan junior had got there before them, he having been met and brought
in by one of the settlers who had gone out with his cariole to do what
he could for the hunters. The two women who discovered the body of
Perrin, however, had not yet arrived, and nothing was known of the
murder in the Settlement.
"It iss little troubled _you_ wass, what came over us," remarked old
Duncan angrily, on entering his house, and finding his younger son
engaged with a pipe beside the kitchen fire.
"An' how could _I_ know where you wass; efter I had been huntin' for
nothin' for two days?" retorted his son. "Wass I to think you would be
stoppin' in the lame camp till you died? Wass it not more likely that
some wan would find you an' bring you in--as they did?"
"No thanks to you that they did, Tuncan, what_ever_. Where did you
leave the other boys?"
"How should I know?" returned the son sharply; "they dropped off--wan
here an' wan there--sayin' they would try for a buffalo in wan place or
another, or, that they would rest awhile; an' so I wass left by myself.
I found it quite enough to look efter number wan."
"It hes _always_ been as much, that, as ye could manitch, Tuncan, even
when things wass goin' easy," said the old man with a sarcastic laugh,
that induced the young man to rise and quit the room.
He went towards a small shop, or store, as such places were styled in
the Nor'-West. It fell to his lot in the family arrangements to look
after and manage this store. Indeed the youth's anxiety for the ease
and comfort of "number wan" had induced him to select the post as being
a part of the family duties that was peculiarly suited to himself.
On reaching the store he went straight to a large roll of Canadian twist
tobacco, cut off a piece, refilled his pipe, and, sitting down on a bale
began or, rather, continued to smoke. He had not been seated long when
the door opened, and the head of a half-breed peeped cautiously in with
an uncommonly sly look.
"That you, Francois La Certe?" said McKay rather sternly, for he knew
the man well. "What iss it you will be wantin' now?"
Francois wanted many things--things almost too numerous to mention; but,
first, he would pay his debts to Cloudbrow.
"Come, that's something new," said McKay with a cynical laugh. "You
must have come by a fortune, or committed a robbery before ye would be
so honest. How much are you goin' to pay?"
"The sledge that you lent me, I have brought back," said the half-breed
with a deprecatory air.
"So, you call returning a loan paying your debts?" said Duncan.
La Certe did not quite say that, but he thought it bore some resemblance
to a payment to account, and at all events was proof of his good
intentions.
"And on the strength of that you'll want plenty more credit, I hev no
doubt."
"No--not plenty," said La Certe, with the earnest air of a man who is
exposing his whole soul to inspection, and who means to act this time
with the strictest sincerity, to say nothing of honesty. "It is only a
little that I want. Not much. Just enough to keep body and soul from
sayin' good-bye."
"But you have not paid a fraction of your old debt. How will you be
expectin' to meet the new one?"
Oh! La Certe could easily explain that. He was going off immediately
to hunt and trap, and would soon return with a heavy load, for there
were plenty of animals about. Then in the spring, which was near at
hand, he meant to fish, or go to the plains with the hunters, and return
laden with bags of pemmican, bales of dried meat, and buffalo-robes
enough to pay off all his debts, and leave something over to enable him
to spend the winter in luxurious idleness.
"And you expect me to believe all that nonsense?" said McKay, sternly.
La Certe was hurt. Of course he expected to be believed! His feelings
were injured, but he was of a forgiving disposition and would say no
more about it. He had expected better treatment, however, from one who
had known him so long.
"A trip to the plains requires more than powder and shot," said the
store-keeper; "where will you be goin' to get a horse an' cart? for you
can hev mine no longer."
"Dechamp, he promise to sole me a horse, an' Mrs Davis'n will loan me a
cart," returned the half-breed, with lofty independence.
"Hm! an' you will be returnin' the cart an' payin' for the horse when
the hunt is over, I suppose?"
Yes, that was exactly the idea that was in La Certe's brain, and which,
he hoped and fully expected, to reduce to practice in course of time--if
Duncan McKay would only assist him by making him a few advances at that
present time.
"Well, what do you want?" asked McKay, getting off the bath.
The half-breed wanted a good many things. As he was going off in the
course of a few days, and might not be able to return for a long time,
he might as well take with him even a few things that he did not
absolutely need at the moment. Of course he wanted a good supply of
powder, shot, and ball. Without that little or nothing could be done.
Then a new axe, as his old one was much worn--the steel almost gone--and
it was well-known that a trapper without an axe was a very helpless
creature. A tin kettle was, of course, an absolute necessity; and the
only one he possessed had a small hole in it. A few awls to enable him
to mend his bark canoe when open water came, and a couple of steel
traps, some gun-flints, and, O yes, he had almost forgotten a most
essential thing--twine to make a net, and some fish-hooks.
"It iss a regular outfit you will be wanting," remarked the
store-keeper, as he handed over the various articles.
O no--not a regular one--only a very little one, considering the length
of time he should be away, and the wealth with which he would return.
But again he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten something else.
"Well, what iss it?"
Some glover's needles and sinews for making leather coats and moccasins.
Needles and thread and scissors, for it was quite clear that people
could not live without suitable clothing. A new capote, also, and--
and--a yard or two of scarlet cloth with a few beads.
As he made the last request, La Certe attempted to speak insinuatingly,
and to look humble.
"Come, that iss pure extravagance," said McKay, remonstrating.
La Certe could not, dare not, face his wife without these articles. He
pleaded earnestly. "Slowfoot is so clever wi' the needle," he said.
"See! she send you a pair of moccasins."
The wily man here drew from the breast of his capote a pair of
beautifully made moccasins, soft as chamois leather, and richly
ornamented with dyed quills of the porcupine.
McKay laughed; nevertheless he swallowed the bait and was pleased. He
finally handed the goods to La Certe, who, when he had obtained all that
he could possibly squeeze out of the store-keeper, bundled up the whole,
made many solemn protestations of gratitude and honest intentions, and
went off to cheer Slowfoot with the news of his success.
It chanced that Antoine Dechamp, the very man about whom he had been
talking to Duncan McKay, had dropped in to see him and his spouse, and
was sitting beside the fire smoking when he entered. Displaying his
possessions with much pride, he assured Dechamp that he had paid for the
whole outfit, and meant to return in the spring a rich man with means
enough to buy a horse and cart, and start with the buffalo-hunters for
the plains.
"You have a horse to sell--they say?" he remarked to his friend in a
careless way.
"Yes--and a good one too," answered Dechamp.
"Well, if you will loan him to me in the spring, I will pay for him when
I come back. It takes all I have to fit me out to start, you see."
Dechamp did not quite see his way to that--but there was plenty of time
to think over it!
"Have you heard," said Dechamp, willing to change the subject, "there is
some talk that Perrin has been killed? George McDermid was out, like
many others, huntin' about for the starvin' people, an' he came across
the wives of Blanc and Pierre--poor things! they're widows now, for
Blanc and Pierre are both dead. Well, the women had well-nigh given in.
I had dropped down, they were so tired, and were crawlin' on their
hands and knees when McDermid found them. I didn't hear all the outs
and ins of it, but there is no doubt that poor Perrin has been murdered,
for he was shot right through the breast."
"Perhaps he shot hisself," suggested La Certe.
"No--that could not be, for the women have brought his coat, which shows
that the ball went in at the breast and came _straight_ out at the back.
If he had shot himself he must have pulled the trigger with his toe,
an' then the ball would have slanted up from his breast to somewhere
about his shoulders."
"It was a Saulteaux, may be," said Slowfoot, who had been listening with
all the eagerness of a gossip.
"There were no marks of Redskins' snow-shoes about," returned Dechamp,
"an' the tracks were too confused to make them out. A knife was found,
but there were no marks about it to tell who owned it--only it was a
settler's knife, but there are lots of them about, an' many have changed
hands since the settlers came."
At the time we write of, the colony of Red River of the north was in a
very unhappy and disorganised condition. There were laws indeed, but
there was no authority or force sufficiently strong to apply the laws,
and discord reigned because of the two great fur companies--the Hudson's
Bay, and the Nor'-West--which opposed each other with extreme
bitterness, carrying fire-water, dissension, and disaster all over the
wilderness of Rupert's Land. Happily the two companies coalesced in the
year 1821, and from that date, onward, comparative peace has reigned
under the mild sway of the Hudson's Bay Company.
But at the period which we describe the coalition had not taken place,
and many of the functionaries of the Hudson's Bay Company in Red River,
from the Governor downward, seem to have been entirely demoralised, if
we are to believe the reports of contemporary historians.
Some time previous to this, the Earl of Selkirk--chiefly from
philanthropic views, it is said--resolved to send a colony to Red River.
At different times bands of Scotch, Swiss, Danes, and others, made
their appearance in the Settlement. They had been sent out by the
agents of the Earl, but there was a great deal of mismanagement and
misunderstanding, both as to the motives and intentions of the Earl.
The result was that the half-breeds of Red River--influenced, it is
said, by the Nor'-West Company--received the newcomers with suspicion
and ill-will. The Indians followed the lead of the half-breeds, to whom
they were allied. Not only was every sort of obstruction thrown in the
way of the unfortunate immigrants, but more than once during those first
years they were driven from the colony, and their homesteads were burned
to the ground.
There must have been more than the usual spirit of indomitable
resolution in those people, however, for notwithstanding all the
opposition and hardship they had to endure, they returned again and
again to their farms, rebuilt their dwellings, cultivated their fields,
and, so to speak, compelled prosperity to smile on them--and that, too,
although several times the powers of Nature, in the shape of grass
hoppers and disastrous floods, seemed to league with men in seeking
their destruction.
Perhaps the Scottish element among the immigrants had much to do with
this resolute perseverance. Possibly the religious element in the
Scotch had more to do with it still.
The disastrous winter which we have slightly sketched was one of the
many troubles with which not only the newcomers, but all parties in the
colony, were at this time afflicted.