ON THE TRAIL TO SANDY BAR--SLEEPING ON THE ICE--THIEVISH ESQUIMAUX
DOGS--NARROW ESCAPE OF JACK--JOYOUS WELCOME--SOCIETY FORMED--BENJAMIN
CAMERON, ONCE A CANNIBAL, NOW A LAY HELPER--PLUM-PUDDING--A STRIKING
INSTANCE OF HONESTY.
In December, 1877, I made a journey to the Indians living at Sandy Bar.
As there were some experiences quite different from those of other
trips, they shall here be recorded.
Sandy Bar, or White Mud, as some call it, is over a hundred miles south
of Beren's River, where we then resided. We made the usual preparations
for our journey, getting sleds loaded with supplies for ourselves and
fish for our dogs, with all the cooking arrangements necessary for a
month's absence from home.
As the people among whom we were going were poor, we ever felt that,
Paul-like, for the furtherance of the Gospel, the wisest course among
those bands who had not fully accepted salvation was to keep ourselves
as far as possible from being burdensome unto them. So my good wife
cooked a generous supply of meat and buns, made as rich with fat as
possible. Fortunate indeed were we in having supplies sufficient for
this to be done. It was not always so. At this very Mission, all we
had one morning for breakfast was a hind-quarter of a wild cat!
All our preparations were completed, and we were ready to start at one
o'clock in the morning. To our great regret a fierce storm arose, and
so we were obliged to wait until the day dawned, ere we could harness
our dogs and venture out. When we had gone about twenty miles, the
storm swept with such power over the great Lake Winnipeg, driving the
recently fallen snow before it, with such a stinging, blinding effect,
that we were forced to give up the struggle, and run into the forest and
camp.
We cleared away the snow from a space about eight feet square. At one
side of this we built up our fire, and over the rest of the cleared
space we spread some evergreen boughs, on which we placed our beds. We
unharnessed our dogs, and thawed out for them some frozen fish. As this
was one of my short trips, I had with me but two dog-trains and two good
Indians. We melted snow in our kettles, and made tea, and cooked some
meat. This, with the bread, of which we were on this trip the happy
possessors, constituted our meals. About sundown we had prayers, and
then, as we had been up most of the previous night, we wrapped ourselves
in our robes and blankets, and went to sleep to the lullaby of the
howling tempest.
About ten o'clock that night I woke up, and, uncovering my head, found
that the storm had ceased. I sprang up and kindled the fire, but my
fingers ached and my body shivered ere I succeeded in getting it to
blaze brightly. I filled the tea-kettle with snow, and while it was
melting I called up my two travelling companions, and also a couple of
young natives, who, with their dog-trains, had joined us. The Indians
can tell with marvellous accuracy the hour of the night by the position
of the Great Bear in the heavens. This is their night clock. I saw by
their puzzled looks, as they gazed at the stars, that they wanted to
tell me I had made a great mistake, if I thought it was near morning.
But I did not give them the opportunity, and only hurried up the
breakfast. After prayers we harnessed our dogs, tied up our loads of
bedding, food, kettles, and other things; and then, throwing the boughs
on which we had slept on the fire, by the light which it afforded us, we
wended our way out through the forest gloom to the frozen lake.
Taking the lead with my own splendid dogs, we travelled at such a rate
that, ere the sun rose up to cheer us, over forty miles of Winnipeg's
icy expanse lay between us and the snowy bed where we had sought shelter
and slept during the raging storm. After stopping at Dog's Head, where
were a few Indians, under the eccentric chief, Thickfoot, onward we
travelled, crossing the lake to what is called Bull's Head, where we
camped for the night. The face of the cliff is here so steep that we
could not get our heavy loads up into the forest above, so we were
obliged to make our fire and bed in the snowdrift at the base of the
cliff. It was a poor place indeed. The snow, from the constant
drifting in from the lake, was very deep. There was no shelter or
screen from the fierce cold wind, which, changing during the night, blew
upon us. We tried to build up the fire, but, owing to our peculiar
position, could not change it. In the woods, at our camps, we build the
fire where the smoke will be driven from us. If the wind changes, we
change our fires. Here at the base of this cliff we could do nothing of
the kind; the result was, we were either shivering in the bitter cold,
or blinded by the smoke.
While in this uncomfortable plight, and trying to arrange our camp beds
on the snow, for we could not get any balsam boughs here to put under
us, we were joined by several wild Indians, who, coming down the lake,
saw our camp-fire. They had a number of thin, wild, wolfish, half-
starved Esquimaux dogs with them. They made a great fuss over me, which
here meant so much tea and food. I treated them kindly, and, fearing
for our supplies, and even our dog harness, and the other things for
which the terrible Esquimaux dog has such an appetite, I politely
informed them that I thought they would be more comfortable if they
travelled on a little further. This hint was met with loud
protestations that they could not, under any circumstances, think of
denying themselves the pleasure of at least stopping one night in the
camp of the Missionary, about whom they had heard so much as the great
friend of the Indian.
Of course I could not go back on my record, or resist such diplomacy;
but I saw trouble ahead, and I was not disappointed. In order to save
something, I gave to their wolfish dogs all the fish I had, which was
sufficient for my eight for several days. These the Esquimaux speedily
devoured. I made the men bring the dog harness into the camp, and with
the sleds, to save the straps and lashings, they built a little
barricade against the wind.
In addition to the food supplies for the trip, I had a bag of meat, and
another of buns, for my use when I should reach the village, where I was
going to preach and to teach. I gathered a pile of clubs, which I cut
from the driftwood on the shore, from which we had also obtained that
for our fire. Then, putting the bag of meat, which was frozen hard,
under my pillow, and giving the bag of buns to one of my Indians, with
orders to guard it carefully, I lay down and tried to go to sleep. Vain
effort indeed was it for a long time. No sooner were we down than in
upon us swarmed the dogs. They fought for the honour of cleaning, in
dog fashion, our meat kettle, and then began seeking for something more.
Over us they walked, and soon, by their gathering around my head, I
knew they had scented the meat. Up I sprang, and, vigorously using my
clubs, a number of which I sent among them, I soon drove them out into
the darkness of the lake. Then under my robes again I got, but not to
sleep. In less than ten minutes there was an _encore_, which was
repeated several times. At length my supply of clubs gave out. My only
consolation was that the dogs had received so many of them that they
acted as though they were ready to cry quits and behave themselves. As
it looked as though they were settling down to rest, I gladly did the
same. Vain hope, indeed! I went to sleep very quickly, for I was very
weary, but I woke up in the morning to find that there was not an ounce
of meat left in the bag under my head, nor a single bun left in the bag
which the Indian had orders so carefully to guard.
Our condition the next morning was not a very pleasant one. The outlook
was somewhat gloomy. Our camp was in an exposed snow-drift. We had no
roof over us. The fire was a poor one, as the drift-wood with which it
was made was wretched stuff, giving out more smoke than heat, which,
persisting in going the wrong way, often filled our eyes with blinding
tears. Our generous supply of meat, that we so much require in this
cold climate, and our rich buns, so highly prized, were devoured by the
dogs which, with the most innocent looks imaginable, sat around us in
the snow and watched our movements. Fortunately one of the Indians had
put a few plain biscuits in a small bag, which he was taking, as a great
gift, to a friend. These were brought out, and with our tea and sugar
were all we had, or could get, until we were sixty miles further south.
No time for grumbling, so we prepared ourselves for the race against the
march of hunger, which we well knew, by some bitter experiences, would,
after a few hours, rapidly gain upon us.
After the light breakfast we knelt down in the snow and said our
prayers, and then hurried off. My gallant dogs responded to my call
upon them so nobly that ere that short wintry day in December had fled
away, and the lake was shrouded in darkness, the flying sparks from the
tops of the little cabins of the friendly Indians told us we had
conquered in the race, although not without some narrow escapes and
scars.
While crossing a long traverse of at least twenty-five miles, my largest
dog, Jack, went through a crack in the ice up to his collar. These ice
cracks are dangerous things. The ice, which may be several feet thick,
often bursts open with a loud report, making a fissure which may be from
a few inches to several feet wide. Up this fissure the water rushes
until it is level with the top. Of course, as the cold is so intense,
it soon freezes over, but it is very dangerous for travellers to come
along soon after the fissure has been made. I have seen the guide get
in more than once, and have had some very narrow escapes myself. On
this occasion I was riding on the sled; the two foremost dogs of the
train got across the thinly frozen ice all right, but Jack, who was
third, broke though into the cold water below. The head dogs kept
pulling ahead, and the sled dog did his work admirably, and so we saved
the noble St. Bernard from drowning, and soon got him out. The cold was
so intense that in a few minutes his glossy black coat was covered with
a coat of icy mail. He seemed to know the danger he was in; and so, the
instant I got the sled across the ice crack, he started off direct for
the distant forest at such a rate that he seemed to drag the other dogs
as well as myself most of the time. We were about twelve miles from the
shore, but in a little more than an hour the land was reached, and as
there was abundance of dry wood here, a good fire was soon kindled,
before which, on a buffalo skin, I placed my ice-covered companion. He
turned himself around when necessary, and, ere the other sled arrived,
Jack was himself again. As two of the Indians behind us had fallen into
this same fissure, we were delayed for some time in getting them dry
again.
We boiled our kettle and had some more tea, and then on we hurried. I
met with a very warm welcome from the people. The greater part of them
were Indians I had met in other years. Many were from Norway House. To
this place they had come, attracted by the stories of its valuable
fisheries and productive soil. So rapidly had the Mission at Norway
House increased that fish and game were beginning to fail. Hence a
large number emigrated to this and other places.
To this place they had come late in the summer, and so the little houses
they had built were small and cold. Then, to make matters worse, the
fisheries had not proved to be what they had been represented. They
crowded round me as I drove into their village, and told me of their
"hungerings oft," and other hardships. As some sleds were ready to
start for Manitoba, I hurried into one of the little homes to pencil a
note to my Chairman, the Reverend George Young, but found it to be
almost an impossibility, as the four fingers of my right hand were
frozen. These, and a frozen nose, reminded me for several days of that
sixty miles' run on short rations.
I found, in addition to the Christian Indians, quite a number of others
who had been attracted to this place. I spent eight days among them.
They had about a dozen little houses, in addition to a large number of
wigwams. For their supplies they were depending on their rabbit snares,
and their nets for fish, which were obtained in but limited quantities.
As my food had been stolen from me by the dogs, I had nothing but what
they gave me; but of their best they supplied me most cheerfully, and so
I breakfasted, dined, and supped on rabbit or fish, and fared well.
I preached, as was my custom, three times a day, and kept school between
the services. I organised a class or society of thirty-five members,
ten of whom for the first time now decided for Christ, and resolved
henceforth to be His loyal followers. It was a great joy to be
gathering in those decided ones, as the result of the seed sown amidst
the discouragements of earlier years. I was very fortunate in securing
a good leader, or spiritual overseer, for this little flock in the
wilderness. Benjamin Cameron was his name. He had had a strange
career. He had been a cannibal in his day, but Divine Grace had gone
down into the depths of sin into which he had sunk, and had lifted him
out, and put his feet upon the Rock, and filled his lips with singing,
and his heart with praise. He was emphatically "a good man, and full of
the Holy Ghost."
The hours I spent with the children were very pleasant and profitable.
I was pleased to hear the elder children read so well, and was
especially delighted with their knowledge of the Catechism in both Cree
and English. I distributed a fresh supply of books which I had brought
them, and also gave to the needy ones some warm, comfortable garments
sent by loving friends from Montreal.
If the dear friends, into whose hearts the good desire to send these
very comfortable garments had been put, could only have seen how much
misery was relieved, and happiness conferred, they would have felt amply
rewarded for their gifts.
In connection with one of the Sunday services I administered the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. We had a most solemn and impressive yet
delightful time. The Loving Saviour seemed very near, and fresh vows
and covenants were entered into by all, that to Him they would be true.
I spent Christmas among them, and as one of them had succeeded in
getting some minks in his traps, and for the skins had obtained from
some passing "free-traders" some flour and plums, they got up, in honour
of my visit, a plum-pudding. It haunts me yet, and so I will not here
describe it.
As beautiful weather favoured us on our return, we took the straight
route home, and arrived there in two days, rejoicing that the trip, as
regarded its spiritual aspects, had been a great success.
One day an Indian came into my house and threw down a fine haunch of
venison upon the table. As we were poorly off for food, I was very much
pleased, and said to him, "What shall I give you for this meat?"
"Nothing," he replied; "it belongs to you."
"You must be mistaken," I said. "I never had any dealings with you."
"But I had with you," he answered. "And so this meat is yours."
Being unacquainted with the man, I asked him to tell me who he was, and
how he made it out that this meat belonged to me.
Said he, "Did you not go to Nelson River with dogs and Indians about two
moons ago?"
"Yes," I replied, "I did."
"Well, I was out hunting deer, but I did not have much luck. The snow
was deep, the deer were very shy, and I had no success. One day, when
very hungry, for I had only taken a little dried rabbit meat with me
from my wigwam, I came across your trail, and I found where your Indians
had made a _cache_, that is, a big bundle of provisions and other things
had been tied up in a blanket, and then a small tree had been bent down
by your men, and the bundle fastened on the top, and let spring up again
to keep it from the wolves. I saw your bundle hanging there, and as I
was very hungry I thought, `Now if the kind-hearted Missionary only knew
the poor Indian hunter was here looking at his bundle of food, he would
say, "Help yourself;"' and that was what I did. I bent down the tree,
and found the large piece of pemmican. I cut off a piece big enough to
make me a good dinner, then I tied up the bundle again, and let it swing
up as you had it. And now I have brought you this venison in place of
what I took."
I was pleased with his honesty, and had in the incident another example
of the Indian quickness to read much where the white man sees nothing.
The reason why we had made the _cache_ which the Indian had discovered
was, that we had taken a large quantity of pemmican for our food, as the
people we wore going to see were poor, and we did not wish to be a
burden to them; but we had been caught in a terrible storm, and as the
snow was very deep, making the travelling heavy, we were obliged to
lighten our loads as soon as possible. So we left a portion, as the
Indian has described, on the way.
When we returned to the _cache_, and my men pulled it down and opened
the bundle, one of them quickly cried out, "Somebody has been at our
_cache_."
"Nonsense," I replied; "nobody would disturb it. And then there were no
tracks around when we reached here to-night."
Looking at the largest piece of pemmican, the Indians said, "Missionary,
somebody has taken down our bundle and cut off a piece just here. That
there are no tracks, is because there have been so many snow-storms
lately. All tracks made a few days ago are covered up."
As I knew they were so much quicker along these lines of education than
white men, I did not argue any more with them. The coming of the old
hunter with the venison was the proof of the cleverness of my men, and
also a very honourable act on his part. I kept the old man to dinner,
and among other things I asked him how he knew it was the Missionary's
party that passed that way. He quickly replied, "By your tracks in the
snow. Indians' toes turn in when they walk, white men's toes turn out."