THE FIRST CAMP--RAPIDS--A PORTAGE--INDIANS ATTACK THE CANOES--A RACE FOR
LIFE--HE'S WON JUST IN TIME--MORE RAPIDS IN AN AWKWARD PLACE--THE CANOES
POLED UP STREAM--AN UPSET--THE INDIANS AGAIN, AND HUGH IN DANGER--OTHER
CANOES TO THE RESCUE.
For the first day we made good progress, stopping only a short time to
land and cook our provisions. We then paddled on until nearly dark,
when we went on shore, unloaded our canoes, hauled them up, lighted a
fire for cooking, and pitched a small tent for Rose, in front of which
Madge, as she always afterwards did, took up her post to be ready to
guard her in case of danger.
As soon as supper was over, two men were placed on watch, and the rest
of the party lay down round the fire with our buffalo-robes spread on
fresh spruce or pine boughs as beds. Before dawn we were aroused by
Uncle Donald.
The morning was calm, the stars were slightly paling, a cold yellow
light began to show itself. Above the river floated a light mist
through which objects on the opposite bank were dimly seen, while on the
land side a wall of forest rose up impenetrable to the eye. From the
dying embers of the camp fire a thin column of smoke rose high above the
trees, while round it were the silent forms of the Indians, lying
motionless at full length on their backs, enveloped in their blankets.
To stretch my legs I walked a few paces from the camp, when I was
startled by a sudden rush through the underbrush. For a moment I
thought of the Blackfeet, but the movement proved to be made by a minx
or marten, which had been attracted to the spot by the remains of last
night's meal.
On hearing Uncle Donald's voice the Indians started to their feet, and
after a hurried breakfast, the canoes being launched and the baggage
stowed on board, we proceeded on our voyage. The mist by degrees
cleared away, the sun mounting over the hills, lighted up the scenery,
and our crews burst into one of the songs with which they were wont to
beguile the time while plying their paddles. Having stopped as before
to dine we were paddling on, when we heard a low ceaseless roar coming
down between the high banks. In a short time we saw the waters rushing
and foaming ahead of us, as they fell over a broad ledge of rocks.
"Can we get over there?" asked Hugh.
"No," I answered; "see, Uncle Donald is steering in for the shore."
We soon landed, the canoes were unloaded, and being hauled up the bank,
each was placed on the shoulders of two men, who trotted off with them
by a path parallel to the river; the rest loaded themselves with the
bales. Hugh and I imitated their example, Madge carried as heavy a
package as any of the men, and Rose begged that she might take charge of
a small bundle, with which she trotted merrily off, but did not refuse
to let Madge have it before she had gone half-way. After proceeding for
nearly a mile among rocks and trees, the canoes were placed on the banks
where the river flowed calmly by, and the men returned for the remainder
of the baggage. Three trips had to be made to convey the whole of the
cargoes above the falls. This is what is called "making a portage."
Re-embarking, on we went until nightfall. During the next few days we
had several such portages to make. We were at times able to hoist our
sails, but when the stream became more rapid and shallow, we took to
poling, a less pleasant way of progressing, though under these
circumstances the only one available. Occasionally the river opened
out, and we were able to resume our paddles.
We had just taken them in hand and were passing along the east bank when
Hugh exclaimed, "I see some one moving on shore among the trees! Yes, I
thought so; he's an Indian," and he immediately added, "there are
several more."
I shouted to Uncle Donald to tell him, and then turned to warn Pierre
and Corney.
Scarcely had I spoken than well-nigh fifty savages appeared on the
banks, and, yelling loudly, let fly a cloud of arrows towards us, while
one of them shouted to us to come to shore.
"Very likely we'll be after doin' that, Mister Red-skins," cried Corney.
And we all, following Uncle Donald's example, turning the heads of our
canoes, paddled towards the opposite bank.
We were safe for the present, and might, had we chosen, have picked off
several of the savages with our rifles; Corney and Pierre had lifted
theirs for the purpose, but Uncle Donald ordered them not to fire.
"Should we kill any of them we should only find it more difficult to
make peace afterwards," he observed.
The river was here wide enough to enable us to keep beyond range of
their arrows, and we continued our course paddling along close to the
western bank. After going a short distance we saw ahead of us a lake,
which we should have to cross. The Indians had disappeared, and I hoped
we had seen the last of them, when Corney shouted out that he had caught
sight of them running alone; the shore of the lake to double round it.
Their object in so doing was evident, for on the opposite side of the
upper river entered the lake, rounding a point by a narrow passage, and
this point they hoped to gain before we could get through, so that they
might stop our progress.
"Paddle, lads--paddle for your lives!" cried Uncle Donald. "We must
keep ahead of the red-skins if we wish to save our scalps."
We did paddle with might and main, making the calm water bubble round
the bows of our canoes.
Looking to our right, we every now and then caught a glimpse of the
Blackfeet, for such we knew they were by their dress. They were
bounding along in single file among the trees, led apparently by one of
their most nimble warriors. It seemed very doubtful whether we could
pass the point before they could reach it. We persevered, for otherwise
we should be compelled either to turn back, or to run the risk of being
attacked at one of the portages, or to land at the western side of the
lake, and to throw up a fort in which we could defend ourselves should
the Blackfeet make their way across the river. It was not likely,
however, that they would do this. They had already ventured much
farther to the north than it was their custom to make a raid; and should
they be discovered, they would run the risk of being set upon by the
Shoushwaps, the chief tribe inhabiting that part of the country, and
their retreat cut off. Still it was of the greatest importance to lose
no time, and we redoubled our efforts to get by the point. The Indians
had a greater distance to go; but then they ran much faster than we
could paddle our canoes. As we neared the point, I kept looking to the
right to see how far our enemies had got. Again I caught a glimpse of
their figures moving among the trees, but whether or not they were those
of the leaders I could not distinguish.
Uncle Donald reached the point, and his canoe disappeared behind it.
Hugh and I next came up, closely followed by the other two. We could
hear the savage shouts and cries of the red-skins; but there was now a
good chance of getting beyond their reach.
"There goes the captain's canoe," I heard Corney sing out; "paddle,
boys, paddle, and we'll give them the go-by!"
We had entered the upper branch of the river; the current ran smoothly.
Still we were obliged to exert ourselves to force our canoes up against
it. Looking back for a moment over my shoulder, I could see the leading
Indians as they reached the point we had just rounded. Enraged at being
too late to stop us, they expended another flight of arrows, several of
which struck the water close to us, and two went through the after end
of Pierre's canoe, but fortunately above water.
Though we had escaped for the present, they might continue along the
eastern bank of the river, and meet us at the next portage we should
have to make. The day was wearing on, and ere long we should have to
look out for a spot on which to camp, on the west bank, opposite to that
where we had seen the Indians.
We had got four or five miles up the river when the roaring sound of
rushing waters struck our ears, and we knew that we should have to make
another portage. The only practicable one was on the east bank, and as
it would occupy us the greater part of an hour, we could scarcely hope
to escape the Indians, even should they not already have arrived at the
spot. On the left rose a line of precipitous rocks, over which we
should be unable to force our way. At length we got up to the foot of
the rapids. Uncle Donald took a survey of them. I observed on the west
side a sheet of water flowing down smoother and freer from rocks than
the rest.
"We must pole up the rapids, but it will need caution; follow me," said
Uncle Donald.
We got out our long poles, and Uncle Donald leading the way, we
commenced the ascent.
While resting on our paddles Corney and Pierre had overtaken us, and now
followed astern of Uncle Donald, so that our canoe was the last. We had
got nearly half-way up, the navigation becoming more difficult as we
proceeded. The rocks extended farther and farther across the channel,
the water leaping and hissing and foaming as it rushed by them. One of
our Indians sat in the bows with a rope ready to jump out on the rocks
and tow the canoe should the current prove too strong for us. Red
Squirrel stood aft with pole in hand guiding the canoe, while Hugh and I
worked our poles on either side. Corney and Pierre were at some little
distance before us, while Uncle Donald, having a stronger crew, got well
ahead.
"We shall soon be through this, I hope," cried Hugh; "pretty tough work
though."
As he spoke he thrust down his pole, which must have been jammed in a
hole, and his weight being thrown upon it, before he could recover it
broke, and over he went; I in my eagerness, leaning on one side,
attempted to grasp at him, the consequence was that the canoe, swinging
round, was driven by the current against the rock. I heard a crash, the
foaming water washed over us, and I found myself struggling in its
midst. My first impulse was to strike out, for I had been a swimmer
from childhood.
Notwithstanding, I found myself carried down. I looked out for Hugh,
but the bubbling water blinded my eyes, and I could nowhere see him nor
my Indian companions; still I instinctively struggled for life.
Suddenly I found myself close to a rugged rock, whose sides afforded the
means of holding on to it. By a violent effort I drew myself out of the
water and climbed to the top. I looked round to see what had become of
the rest of the crew; my eye first fell on the canoe, to which Hugh was
clinging. It was being whirled hurriedly down the rapids; and some
distance from it, indeed, almost close to where I now was, I saw the
head of an Indian. His hands and feet were moving; but instead of
trying to save himself by swimming towards the rock on which I was
seated, he was evidently endeavouring to overtake the canoe. I could
nowhere see our other companion; he had, I feared, sunk, sucked under by
the current. A momentary glance showed me what I have described.
Directly I had recovered breath I shouted to Pierre and Corney, but the
roar of the waters prevented them from hearing my voice; and they and
their companions were so completely occupied in poling on their canoes
that they did not observe what had occurred. Again and again I shouted;
then I turned round, anxiously looking to see how it fared with Hugh and
the Indian.
The canoe had almost reached the foot of the rapids, but it went much
faster than the Indian, who was still bravely following it. He had
caught hold of one of the paddles, which assisted to support him. I was
now sure that his object was to assist Hugh, for he might, as I have
said, by swimming to the rock and clutching it, have secured his own
life until he could be taken off by Corney or Pierre. Hugh still held
tight hold of the canoe, which, however, the moment it reached the foot
of the rapids, began to drift over to the eastern shore.
Just then what was my dismay to see a number of red-skins rush out from
the forest towards the bank. They were those, I had no doubt, from whom
we were endeavouring to escape. They must have seen the canoe, and were
rejoicing in the thoughts of the capture they were about to make.
Hugh's youth would not save him from the cruel sufferings to which they
were wont to put their prisoners, should they get hold of him, and that
they would do this seemed too probable. I almost wished, rather than he
should have had to endure so cruel a fate, that he had sunk to the
bottom. Even now the Indian might come up with the canoe, but would it
be possible for him to tow it to the west bank, or support Hugh while
swimming in the same direction. Though the rock was slippery I at
length managed to stand up on it, and as I did so I gave as shrill a
shout as I could utter. One of the Indians in Corney's canoe glanced at
me for a moment. He at once saw what had happened, and I guessed from
his gestures was telling Pierre as well as Corney of the accident. In
an instant the poles were thrown in, and the Indians seizing their
paddles, the canoes, their heads turned round, were gliding like air
bubbles down the torrent.