Let loose in the wilderness! How romantic, how inexpressibly
delightful, that idea seems to some minds! Ay, even when the weight of
years begins to stiffen the joints and slack the cords of life the
memory of God's great, wild, untrammelled, beautiful wilderness comes
over the spirit like a refreshing dream and restores for a time
something like the pulse of youth.
We sometimes think what a joy it would be if youth could pass through
its blessings with the intelligent experience of age. And it may be
that this is to be one of the joys of the future, when man, redeemed and
delivered from sin by Jesus Christ, shall find that the memory of the
sorrows, sufferings, weaknesses of the past shall add inconceivably to
the joys of the present. It may be so. Judging from analogy it does
not seem presumptuous to suppose and hope that it will be so.
"Sufficient unto the day," however, is the joy thereof.
When the two canoes pushed off and swept rapidly over the fair bosom of
Red River, the heart of Archie Sinclair bounded with a feeling of
exultant joy which it would have been very hard indeed to convince him
was capable of increase, while the bosom of his invalid brother was
filled with a sort of calm serenity which constituted, in his opinion at
the time being, a quite sufficient amount of felicity.
When we add that the other hunters were, in their several ways, pretty
much in the same condition as the boys, we have said enough to justify
the remark that their circumstances were inexpressibly delightful.
Proceeding some distance up stream they finally diverged into a minor
tributary which led to waters that were swarming with water-fowl and
other game.
"This is a grand burst, Little Bill," said Archie, as he plied his
paddle vigorously, and glanced over his shoulder at the invalid behind
him.
"Prime!" answered Billie. "Isn't it?" he added, with a backward glance
at Okematan.
"Waugh!" replied the reticent savage.
"Ay, `Waugh!' that's all you'll get out of him when he's puzzled," said
Archie; "though what he means by it is more than I know. You must speak
respectable English to a Red-skin if you want to convince him. Why, if
he had understood you literally, you know--and obeyed you--he'd have had
something to do immediately with the lock of his gun."
"I have often wondered, Archie," returned his brother with a languid
smile, "what a lot you manage to say sometimes with nothing in it."
"Ha! ha!--ho! ho! what a wag you're becoming, Little Bill. But I thank
'ee for the compliment, for you know it's only philosophers that can say
an awful lot without a'most sayin' anything at all. Look at Oke there,
now, what a depth of stupidity lies behind his brown visage; what
bucketsful of ignorance swell out his black pate, but he expresses it
all in the single word `Waugh!' because he's a philosopher. If he was
like La Certe, he'd jabber away to us by the hour of things he knows
nothin' about, and tell us long stories that are nothin' less than big
lies. I'm glad you think me a philosopher, Little Bill, for it takes
all the philosophy I've got to keep me up to the scratch of goin' about
the world wi' you on my back. Why, I'm a regular Sindbad the Sailor,
only I'm saddled with a young man o' the plains instead of an old man of
the sea. D'ee understand what I'm saying, Oke?"
The chief, who understood little more than that his own name and that of
La Certe were mentioned, nodded his head gravely and allowed the corners
of his mouth to droop, which was his peculiar way of smiling--a smile
that might have been unintelligible to his friends had it not been
relieved and interpreted by a decided twinkle in his eyes.
While they were conversing, the two canoes had rounded a rocky point and
swept out upon a lake-like expanse in the river, which was perfectly
smooth and apparently currentless. Several islets studded its calm
breast and were reflected in the clear water. These were wooded to the
water's edge, and from among the sedges near their margin several flocks
of wild-fowl sprang up in alarm and went off in fluttering confusion.
It chanced that just then a trumpet-like note was heard overhead, as a
flock of wild geese passed the spot and came suddenly close within range
of the canoes which had been concealed from them by the bushes that
fringed the river.
Guns were seized at once by the bowmen in each canoe, but Archie was
smarter than Fergus. Before the Highlander had got the weapon well into
his hands the boy fired and one of the flock fell into the river with a
heavy plunge.
Little Bill signalised the successful shot with a high-toned cheer, and
the Indian with a low-toned "Waugh," while Fergus made a hurried and
therefore bad, shot at the scared flock.
"That wass a fery good shot, Archie," remarked Fergus, as the canoes
ranged up alongside of the dead bird.
"Yours was a very good one, too, Fergus," returned the boy; "only not
quite straight."
The smile on the face of Okematan proved that he understood the drift of
the reply, and that this was the style of humour he appreciated so
highly in his young friend. We civilised people may wonder a little at
the simplicity of the savage, but when we reflect that the chief had
been born and bred among the solemnities of the wilderness, and had been
up to that time wholly unacquainted with the humours and pleasantries
that sometimes accompany juvenile "cheek," our wonder may perhaps be
subdued.
"This would be a splendid place to camp for the rest of the day,"
suggested Davidson, while they rested on their paddles after the goose
had been secured. "We must lay in a small stock of fresh provisions,
you know, if we are to push on to-morrow or next day to our hunting
ground. What say you, Okematan?" he added in Cree, turning to their
guide.
"The will of the Paleface chief is the wish of Okematan. Let him
speak."
"Well, then, I vote for encamping on the small island over there, in the
middle o' the lake--for it's far more like a lake than a river
hereabouts--that one over which the hawk is hovering."
"I vote for it too," said Archie.
"So do I," chimed in Little Bill.
"I will be sayin' ditto to that," put in Fergus.
"Moreover," suggested Dan, "I vote for roasting the goose at once."
"Ay, and eating him right away," said Archie. As the invalid followed
this up with a feeble cheer, the proposal was carried into effect
without delay.
The islet was low and flat, and so thickly covered with bush that it
afforded a most enticing spot for a night-encampment. There was also
plenty of dead wood on it, with which to replenish the fire, and various
peeps through sundry openings afforded exquisite views of woodland and
river with which to charm the eyes. Over all, the sun was pouring his
noontide rays in a glorious flood.
We need not waste time in going into the details of the feast that
followed: how the goose was delightfully plump and tender--especially
tender to teeth that would have scarcely observed the difference if it
had been tough--how, in addition to the goose, they had wild-ducks
enough--shot earlier in the day--to afford each one a duck to himself,
leaving a brace over, of which Okematan ate one, as well as his share of
the goose, and seemed to wish that he might eat the other, but he
didn't, for he restrained himself; how they drank tea with as much gusto
and intemperance as if it had been a modern "afternoon"; and how, after
all was over, the Red-man filled the pipe-head on the back of his iron
tomahawk and began to smoke with the air of a man who meant business and
regarded all that had gone before as mere child's-play.
The afternoon was well advanced when the feast was concluded, for
appetites in the wilderness are not easily or soon satisfied.
"I feel tight," said Billie with a sigh and something of pathos in his
tone, when he at last laid down his knife--we cannot add fork, for they
scorned such implements at that time.
"That's right, Little Bill," said Archie, "try another leg or wing--now,
don't shake your head. We've come on this trip a-purpose to make you
fat an' strong. So you must--here, try this drum-stick. It's only a
little one, like yourself, Billie."
"True, Archie, but I'm too little to hold it. I feel like an egg now."
"Hallo! Oke, are you overcome already?" asked Archie.
"The sun sinks to rest at night and the birds go to sleep. If we intend
to hunt we must begin now."
"It's always the way," returned the boy with an air of discontent;
"whenever a fellow gets into a state of extreme jollity there's sure to
be something bothersome to come and interrupt us. Obfusticate your
faculties with some more smoke, Oke, till Billie and I finish our tea.
We can't shoot with half-empty stomachs, you know."
"They must be three-quarters full by this time--whatever," remarked
Fergus, wiping his clasp-knife on the grass.
Just then, Dan Davidson, who had gone to explore the islet, returned
with the information that some hunters must have recently visited the
same place, for he had discovered the remains of an encampment at the
extreme eastern side, which looked as if it had been recently occupied,
for bones of wild-fowl were scattered about, the meat on which was
neither dried nor decayed.
On hearing this, Okematan rose quickly, put out his pipe, and stuck the
tomahawk in his belt. The sluggish good-natured air of contentment with
which he had been smoking vanished; the half-sleepy eyes opened, and a
frown rested on his brow as he said, shortly--
"Okematan goes to look."
"May I go with you?" asked Dan.
"No. Okematan goes alone. It is known that a band of Saulteaux have
been seen. They are roused just now by the actions of the great white
chief and the words of my Nation. Rest here till I come. Go on eating.
If they are here they may be watching us now."
"D'ee hear that, Little Bill? You've got to go on eating," said Archie.
"Our guide commands it. If you disobey, the rascally Saulteaux will
come down upon us somehow."
But Archie's light-heartedness was not shared by his older companions.
They knew too well that the disturbed state of the country at the time,
and especially the ill-will engendered between the Crees and Saulteaux
by the ill-advised action of Lord Selkirk's agents, rendered an
explosion not improbable at any time, and a certain feeling of
disappointment came over them when they reflected that the hunting
expedition, which they had entered on with so much enthusiastic hope,
might perhaps be brought to an abrupt close.
"If there's to be any fighting I shall only be in your way," said the
invalid in a tone in which there was much of sadness, though none of
fear.
"Not a bit of it, Little Bill," returned Dan, quickly. "You'll be in
nobody's way in the canoes. You're as light as a feather. If we had
even to take to the bush, Archie could run with you; an' when he gets
tired, Fergus and I would think no more o' you than a grasshopper."
"Iss it carryin' him you will be taalkin' of?" said Fergus. "Ay, ay! I
would be forgettin' that he wass on my back if I had him there."
As he spoke, the Indian returned to the camp with the cat-like tread so
characteristic of the Red-man.
"A big band has been here," he said. "They slept on the island last
night, and the signs show that they do not come as friends."
"Are you sure of that?" asked Dan.
"Okematan is sure of nothing. Even the sun may not rise to-morrow."
"Had we not better, then, return at once to the Settlement, and tell
what we have seen?" said Dan.
"If we did, the Saulteaux would see us and give chase. Their canoes are
big and have strong men in them. They would overtake us soon and our
scalps would be swinging at their belts to-morrow."
"Not pleesant to think of--whatever," said Fergus.
"What, then, do you advise?" asked Dan. "You understand the ways of the
wilderness, and we will follow your lead."
The chief appeared to think for a few moments.
"We will remain where we are," he said; "only we will send the boys off
in one of the canoes, as if to shoot some ducks for us. The Saulteaux
will think that we are lazy, idle men, who like to lie in camp and sleep
or smoke while the boys hunt for us. When night comes we will escape in
the dark and go down the river to warn the settlers."
"But what if they attack us before night comes on?" asked Dan.
"They will not do that," answered the Indian, gravely. "They know that
we are well supplied with powder and shot. They know that some one must
lead in every attack, and that such leaders would be doomed to death.
Saulteaux do not love death. They prefer life. They will not come till
it is dark."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Fergus, who seemed greatly tickled with the latter
part of the chief's observation, "fery goot! ho! fery goot!--they do not
love death, an' it iss life they will be preferrin'. Ay, ay! It iss
the Heelandman that will be of much the same opeenion, only, when
fightin' hes got to be done, he's not afraid to do it in daylight."
"He may not be afraid, Fergus," said Dan, "yet I suspect that the
Red-man's tactics are often the wisest, for what would be the use of
making an attack in daylight, at the cost of several lives, when the
attack might be made quite as well, if not better, at night, without the
loss, perhaps, of any life at all?"
"I will not be sayin'," returned Fergus, who was of an argumentative
disposition, "anything at all about attackin' by day or by night. I
will only be remarkin' that the Heelandman iss like the savitch in that
he prefers life to death."
"Come along to the fire, Fergus," said Dan, laughing; "I will argue that
out with you."
"It will be difficult to argue, then, for there iss no argument in it at
all. It is only a statement of opeenion."
"Well, but surely it is possible to controvert your opinion! Besides,
we are somewhat exposed where we stand. Even an arrow might reach us
from the near bank."
"Never you fear, Tan. They will not be so foolish as to fire now,
instead of attack at night. They are sly--whatever."
While the two friends were thus conversing, the Cree chief was arranging
the smaller of the canoes for the use of the young hunters--that is, he
took out all the lading, making it so light that it would skim over the
water like an egg-shell with the slightest impulse of the paddle.
"You'll have to put a big stone in the stern, Oke," said Archie, "to
make up for Little Bill's lightness--"
"For your heaviness, you mean," interrupted the invalid.
"No; I mean what I say, Billie, for you are light-headed as well as
light-hearted--a sort o' human balloon, ready to go up like a rocket at
any time--so that even an or'nary man like me weighs you down. Besides,
Oke, he steers better than me and I shoot better than him. Also, I like
the hardest work, so I always take the bow."
Arranging things according to directions, the Indian held the canoe
steady while the brothers stepped carefully in--for they had learned
from experience that the birch-bark canoe, besides being easily broken,
is apt to overturn on small provocation.
"Let not Arch-ee go near the river-bank on either side," said the chief
in a warning voice, as he was about to shove the frail bark out upon the
glassy water. "The Saulteaux might catch him. And let him not go far
up or down stream. Let him keep among the reeds round the island.
There are many ducks there. Shoot plenty, as if Arch-ee had no
suspicion--no fear of Indians."
"I say, Oke," demanded the lad, with what was meant for an overwhelming
frown, "do you mean to hint that I _have_ any fear of the Indians?"
"Okematan has the belief that Arch-ee never knew fear at all," returned
the chief, earnestly; "that he has the courage of the young
buffalo-bull."
"Well, I'm not quite so sure o' that," returned the boy, with a modest
look. "I would not myself put it quite so strong, you know. But you're
a wise chief, and I hope you've got a lot of brothers as wise as
yourself. Good-bye, Oke--shove off. Now, then, mind how you steer,
Little Bill."