THE DIVIDING RIDGE--A MISHAP--MORE DIFFICULTY WITH THE SNOW--THE
PROVISIONS RUN SHORT--THE DOGS BEGIN TO SUCCUMB--HUGH, ARCHIE, AND RED
SQUIRREL ARE LOST IN A SNOW-STORM--DONE UP, AND NO SHELTER.
"The first part of our difficulties are approaching an end," said Uncle
Donald the next morning, as we were starting. "It is possible that we
may reach the dividing ridge by nightfall."
The news caused every countenance to assume a cheerful expression. We
pushed on in high spirits. The river, which had been growing less and
less as we proceeded, at length became a small stream, fed by a fall
down a steep slope, up which we had, as before, to make our way by a
zigzag path.
On reaching the summit we found ourselves in an elevated valley, with
mountain peaks on each side towering magnificently to the sky, the rays
of the rising sun glancing on their snow-clad sides.
The surface of the lakes afforded a level and easy road. Away went the
dogs at a brisk trot, the men shouting with glee as they thought our
difficulties were over.
Climbing up the banks of one lake, we crossed over the ground to
another, and then went on again as before. We quickly got over seven or
eight miles, when we saw a stream, which, issuing from the eastern end
of the last lake, ran down a gentle incline. The bright rivulet was a
feeder of one of the vast rivers which flow towards the Arctic Ocean.
A joyous shout was raised; we had crossed the dividing ridge, and the
vast plain through which flow the Saskatchewan and Athabasca lay below
us. Several trees which grew by the lakelet were marked, to show the
boundary of the North West Territory, into which we had now entered.
Having quenched our thirst from the little stream, we again set out, the
ground sloping perceptibly towards the east.
The rivulet widened as we advanced, and after we had gone a short way we
found it completely frozen over. The ice being of sufficient thickness
to bear our weight, we at once descended on to it, and away we went at a
greater speed than we had hitherto gone, every one being in the highest
spirits.
We had now to make a long circuit through a dense forest, keeping away
from the river, for fear of slipping down over the precipices which
formed the side.
Hugh and I, while sitting on our snow-shoes, were gliding downwards,
fancying that we should reach the bottom of a hill without difficulty,
when presently I saw him, on coming to some object concealed by the
snow, give an unintentional jump, and over he went, head first,
clutching at the shrubs and trying to stop himself. I was laughing at
his mishap, when I felt myself jerked forwards, and then away I went in
the same fashion.
After some tumbling and rolling, with arms and legs outstretched, we
were both pitched into a deep snow reef at the foot of the hill.
One of the loaded sleighs, driven by Corney, before he had time to
unharness the dogs, as he was about to do, broke away from him, and away
it went, the poor dogs, terribly frightened, endeavouring to keep ahead
of it, but it went faster than they could. In vain Corney and Red
Squirrel tried to stop it. Had it kept clear of all impediments no
great harm would have happened; but, unfortunately, it came in contact
with a log, turning the poor dog who had the leader's place into a
pancake, while the front part of the sleigh itself was shattered to
fragments. We hurried to the spot. The poor dog lay dead, with its
head and limbs fractured.
We were some time occupied in repairing the broken sledge and harness.
Continuing our journey, the river level was at last reached, when, on
looking up, we saw that we had stood on a projecting ledge of ice not
more than two feet in thickness, which might have given way beneath our
weight and carried us down to destruction.
Hitherto, when not travelling on the ice, we had to make our way over
snow seldom less than two feet deep, but as we reached the base of the
mountains it suddenly disappeared. As far as we could see to the
eastward, not a patch was visible. Had it not been for the frozen
rivers and the leafless trees, we might have fancied that summer was
returning. This phenomenon occurs along the whole base of the Rocky
Mountains, where there is a belt of nearly twenty miles in width
perfectly free from snow.
The ground being hard, we made good way over it, directing our course
about south-east towards a stream running into the Saskatchewan.
The stream we were steering for was reached. Travelling over the ice,
we were soon again in a region where the snow lay thicker than ever, and
it became very trying to our dogs. Our special favourites, Whiskey,
Pilot, and Muskymote, went on bravely, in spite of their hard labour by
day and the intense cold to which they were exposed by night. They,
knowing fellows, whenever they stopped, carefully picked out the snow
which, getting between their toes, would have cut them severely; but
some of the younger ones, not understanding the necessity of so doing,
allowed it to accumulate, and became lame.
The snow now lay two feet in thickness over the whole surface of the
country, making it fearfully heavy work to get along. We frequently had
to go ahead to form a track; and even so soft was the snow, that the
poor dogs would wallow through it up to their bodies, until they were
well-nigh worn out with their incessant labour.
We, however, pushed on, for had we ventured to stop our whole party
might have succumbed. Our provisions were well-nigh exhausted, and
neither buffalo, nor deer, nor smaller game appeared to enable us to
replenish our stock of food. Our object was to get on a stream with a
southerly or south-easterly course, on which we could travel until we
could strike a line across the country leading to the missionary
station.
We made short journeys between sunrise and sunset. At the end of each
day our first task was to clear away the snow, so as to have a space for
our camp fire and room for the party to stretch themselves round it.
The most sheltered spot was selected for Rose's hut, which, when wood
was wanting, was formed of buffalo-robes. She seemed to enjoy the
journey, and was as blooming and merry as ever. The poor dogs were the
greatest sufferers. They had hard work and scanty food. First one
stretched out its legs and died, and then another did the same; and one
morning, when we were starting, even Pilot could not be coaxed away from
the camp fire. No one had the heart to kill him, but stand on his legs
he either could not or would not, so he was left to his fate in the
faint hope that in an hour or so he might recover his strength and
overtake us.
As we pushed forward, on one side rose the lofty peaks of the Rocky
Mountains, and on the other stretched out a vast extent of comparatively
level land, in some parts open prairie, in others dense forest. The
boughs of the trees were thickly laden with snow, the whole country,
indeed, was wrapped in a white wintry mantle. The scenery was dreary in
the extreme. Our spirits sank; it seemed that we should never come to
an end of our long journey.
The sky, hitherto bright, became overcast with clouds about the time
that we had got over about two-thirds of the day's journey. Hugh and
Red Squirrel and I were at some distance in the rear of the party, when
snow began to fall and the wind to blow with unusual violence. The snow
came down so thickly that it seemed as if the contents of a huge
feather-bed had suddenly been emptied upon us. Thicker and thicker it
fell; so great was the obscurity that we could scarcely see a yard
ahead, while the tracks of our companions were almost instantly
obliterated.
We shouted, expecting that they would reply, and that we should be
guided by their voices, but no sound came in return. We tried to run
on, hoping to overtake them, when Hugh fell and broke one of his
snow-shoes. We, of course, stopped to help him up, and in so doing must
have turned slightly about. Red Squirrel, ever fertile in resources,
set to work to mend the shoe. This he did very rapidly; but even that
short delay was serious. As soon as Hugh was on his legs we again
hurried on, supposing that we were following close behind the rest of
the party. We shouted and shouted, but still there was no reply. I
asked Red Squirrel if he thought we were going right.
He did not answer.
It is seldom that an Indian loses his way, but at length I began to fear
that he was at fault. He acknowledged, indeed, that he was so. We
unslung our guns, hoping that if we fired our friends would hear the
report, and fire theirs in return, but neither Hugh's nor mine would go
off. We put on fresh caps, and both again snapped. I felt in my pouch
for my pricker, to try and clear out the nipple, but could not find it.
I asked Hugh for his.
"I'm afraid that I dropped it yesterday evening in the camp, and I
thought that I would look for it in the morning, but forgot to do so,"
he answered.
At last we gave up the attempt in despair. More valuable time had thus
been lost. Red Squirrel urged us to go on, saying that he thought he
could guide us by the wind. On and on we went. The snow fell as
thickly as ever. At last Hugh declared that he could go no further. We
were both suffering from fearful pains in our ankles--the _mal de
raquette_, as the French Canadians call it, produced by the pressure of
the snow-shoe straps.
I looked anxiously about, hoping to discover some trees or shrubs which
might afford us shelter and enable us to light a fire, but a thick veil
of falling snow shrouded us on every side. I consulted Red Squirrel as
to what we should do. One thing was certain--that if we remained in the
open, exposed to the biting blast, we should perish. I feared that such
would be our fate. Poor Hugh gave way altogether, and, casting off the
straps from his ankles, threw himself down on the snow, and begged us to
leave him.