DISASTER IN THE RAPIDS
It was a hunting party--four men and a half-grown boy--with two canoes
and armed with rifles. The Indians gave us the hearty welcome of the
wilderness and received us like old friends. First, the chief, whose
name was Toma, shook our hand, then the others, laughing and all
talking at once in their musical Indian tongue. It was a welcome that
said: "You are our brothers. You have come far to see us, and we are
glad to have you with us."
After the first greetings were over they asked for _stemmo,_ and I gave
them each a plug of tobacco, for that is what stemmo means. They had
no pipes with them, so I let them have two of mine, and it did my heart
good to see the look of supreme satisfaction that crept into each dusky
face as its possessor inhaled in long, deep pulls the smoke of the
strong tobacco. It was like the food that comes to a half-starved man.
After they had had their smoke, passing the pipes from mouth to mouth,
I brought forth our kettle. In a jiffy they had a fire, and I made tea
for them, which they drank so scalding hot it must have burned their
throats. They told us they had had neither tea nor tobacco for a long
while, and were very hungry for both. These are the stimulants of the
Labrador Indians, and they will make great sacrifices to secure them.
All the time that this was taking place we were jabbering, each in his
own tongue, neither we nor they understanding much that the other said.
I did make out from them that we were the first white men that had ever
visited them in their hunting grounds and that they were glad to see us.
Accepting an invitation to visit their lodges and escorted by a canoe
on either side of ours, we finally turned down stream and, three miles
below, came to the main camp of the Indians, which was situated, as
most of their hunting camps are, on a slight eminence that commanded a
view of the river for several miles in either direction, that watch
might be constantly kept for bands of caribou.
We were discovered long before we arrived at the lodges, and were met
by the whole population--men, women, children, dogs, and all. Our
reception was tumultuous and cordial. It was a picturesque group. The
swarthy-faced men, lean, sinewy and well built, with their long,
straight black hair reaching to their shoulders, most of them hatless
and all wearing a red bandanna handkerchief banded across the forehead,
moccasined feet and vari-colored leggings; the women quaint and odd;
the eager-faced children; little hunting dogs, and big wolf-like
huskies.
All hands turned to and helped us carry our belongings to the camp,
pitch our tent and get firewood for our stove. Then the men squatted
around until eleven of them were with us in our little seven by nine
tent, while all the others crowded as near to the entrance as they
could. I treated everybody to hot tea. The men helped themselves
first, then passed their cups on to the women and children. The used
tea leaves from the kettle were carefully preserved by them to do
service again. The eagerness with which the men and women drank the
tea and smoked the tobacco aroused my sympathies, and I distributed
amongst them all of these that I could well spare from our store. In
appreciation of my gifts they brought us a considerable quantity of
fresh and jerked venison and smoked fat; and Toma, as a special mark of
favor presented me with a deer's tongue which had been cured by some
distinctive process unlike anything I had ever eaten before, and it was
delicious indeed, together with a bladder of refined fat so clear that
it was almost transparent.
The encampment consisted of two deerskin wigwams. One was a large one
and oblong in shape, the other of good size but round. The smaller
wigwam was heated by a single fire in the center, the larger one by
three fires distributed at intervals down its length. Chief Toma
occupied, with his family, the smaller lodge, while the others made
their home in the larger one.
This was a band of Mountaineer Indians who trade at Davis Inlet Post of
the Hudson's Bay Company, on the east coast, visiting the Post once or
twice a year to exchange their furs for such necessaries as ammunition,
clothing, tobacco and tea. Unlike their brothers on the southern
slope, they have not accustomed themselves to the use of flour, sugar
and others of the simplest luxuries of civilization, and their food is
almost wholly flesh, fish and berries. They live in the crude,
primordial fashion of their forefathers. To aid them in their hunt
they have adopted the breech-loading rifle and muzzle-loading shotgun,
but the bow and arrow has still its place with them and they were
depending wholly upon this crude weapon for hunting partridges and
other small game now, as they had no shotgun ammunition. The boys were
constantly practicing with it while at play and were very expert in its
use.
These Indians are of medium height, well built, sinewy and strong,
alert and quick of movement. The women are generally squatty and fat,
and the greater a woman's avoirdupois the more beautiful is she
considered.
All the Mountaineer Indians of Labrador are nominally Roman Catholics.
Those in the south are quite devoted to their priest, and make an
effort to meet him at least once a year and pay their tithes, but here
in the north this is not the case. In fact some of these people had
seen their priest but once in their life and some of the younger ones
had never seen him at all. Therefore they are still living under the
influence of the ancient superstitions of their race, though the women
are all provided with crucifixes and wear them on their breasts as
ornaments.
They are perfectly honest. Indians, until they become contaminated by
contact with whites, always are honest. It is the white man that
teaches them to steal, either by actually pilfering from the ignorant
savage, or by taking undue advantage of him in trade. Human nature is
the same everywhere, and the Indian will, when he finds he is being
taken advantage of and robbed, naturally resent it and try to "get
even." Our things were left wholly unguarded, and were the object of a
great deal of curiosity and admiration, not only our guns and
instruments, but nearly everything we had, and were handled and
inspected by our hosts, but not the slightest thing was filched. No
Labrador Indian north of the Grand River will ever disturb a cache
unless driven to it by the direst necessity, and even then will leave
something in payment for what he takes.
We told them of the evidences we had seen of the caribou migration
having taken place between Michikamau and Michikamats, and they were
mightily interested. They had missed it but were, nevertheless,
meeting small bands of caribou and making a good killing, as the
quantities of meat hanging everywhere to dry for winter use bore
evidence. The previous winter, they told us, was a hard one with them.
Reindeer and ptarmigan disappeared, and before spring they were on the
verge of starvation.
Our visit was made the occasion of a holiday and they devoted
themselves wholly to our entertainment, and I believe were genuinely
sorry when, on the afternoon after our arrival, I announced my decision
to break camp and proceed. They helped us get ready, drew a rough
sketch of the river so far as they knew it, and warned us to look out
for numerous rapids and some high falls around which there was a
portage trail. Farther on, they said, the river was joined by another,
and then it became a "big, big river," and for two days' journey was
good. Beyond that it was reported to be very bad. They had never
traveled it, because they heard it was so bad, and they could not tell
us, from their own knowledge, what it was like, but repeated the
warning, "Shepoo matchi, shepoo matchi" (River bad), and told us to
look out.
When we were ready to go, as a particular mark of good feeling, they
brought us parting gifts of smoked deer's fat and were manifestly in
earnest in their urgent invitations to us to come again. The whole
encampment assembled at the shore to see us off and, as our canoes
pushed out into the stream, the men pitched small stones after us as a
good luck omen. If the stones hit you good luck is assured. You will
have a good hunt and no harm will come to you. None of the stones
happened to hit us. We could see the group waving at us until we
rounded the point of land upon which the lodges stood; then the men all
appeared on the other side of the point, where they had run to watch us
until we disappeared around a bend in the river below, as we passed on
to push our way deeper and deeper into the land of silence and mystery.
The following morning brought us into a lake expansion some twelve
miles long and two miles or so in width, with a great many bays and
arms which were extremely confusing to us in our search for the place
where the river left it. The lower end was blocked with islands, and
innumerable rocky bars, partially submerged, extended far out into the
water. A strong southwest wind sent heavy rollers down the lake. Low,
barren hills skirted the shores.
Early in the afternoon we turned into a bay where I left Easton with
the canoe while I climbed one of the barren knolls. I had scarcely
reached the summit when I heard a rifle shot, and then, after a pause,
three more in quick succession. There were four cartridges in my
rifle. I ran down to the canoe where I found Easton in wild
excitement, waving the gun and calling for cartridges, and half-way
across the bay saw the heads of two caribou swimming toward the
opposite shore. I loaded the magazine and sat down to wait for the
animals to land.
When the first deer got his footing and showed his body above the water
three hundred and fifty yards away, I took him behind the shoulder. He
dropped where he stood. The other animal stopped to look at his
comrade, and a single bullet, also behind his shoulder, brought him
down within ten feet of where he had stood when he was hit. I mention
this to show the high efficiency of the .33 Winchester. At a
comparatively long range two bullets had killed two caribou on the spot
without the necessity of a chase after wounded animals, and one bullet
had passed from behind the shoulder, the length of the neck, into the
head and glancing downward had broken the jaw.
I desired to make a cache here that we might have something to fall
back upon in case our retreat should become necessary, and four days
were employed in fixing up the meat and preparing the cache, and this
gave us also sufficient time, in spite of continuous heavy wind and
rain, to thoroughly explore the lake and its bays. An ample supply of
the fresh venison was reserved to carry with us.
We now had on hand, exclusive of the pemmican and other rations still
remaining, and the meat cached, eight weeks' provisions, with plenty of
ducks and ptarmigans everywhere, and there seemed to be no further
danger from lack of food.
One day, while we were here, five caribou tarried for several minutes
within two hundred yards of us and then sauntered off without taking
alarm, and later the same day another was seen at closer range; but we
did not need them and permitted them to go unmolested.
From a hill near this bay, where we killed the deer, on the eastern
side of the lake, we discovered a trail leading off toward a string of
lakes to the eastward. This is undoubtedly the portage trail which the
Indians follow in their journeys to the Post at Davis Inlet. Toma had
told me we might see it here, and that, not far in, on one of these
lakes was another Indian camp.
An inordinate craving for fat takes possession of every one after a
little while in the bush. We had felt it, and now, with plenty,
overindulged, with the result that we were attacked with illness, and
for a day or two I was almost too sick to move.
The morning we left Atuknipi, or Reindeer Lake, as we shall call the
expansion, a blinding snowstorm was raging, with a strong head wind.
Several rapids were run though it was extremely dangerous work, for at
times we could scarcely see a dozen yards ahead. At midday the snow
ceased, but the wind increased in velocity until finally we found it
quite out of the question to paddle against it, and were forced to
pitch camp on the shores of a small expansion and under the lee of a
hill. For two days the gale blew unceasingly and held us prisoners in
our camp. The waves broke on the rocky shores, sending the spray fifty
feet in the air and, freezing on the surrounding bowlders, covered them
with a glaze of ice. I cannot say what the temperature was, for on the
day of our arrival here my last thermometer was broken; but with half a
foot of snow on the ground, the freezing spray and the bitter cold
wind, we were warned that winter was reaching out her hand toward
Labrador and would soon hold us in her merciless grasp. This made me
chafe under our imprisonment, for I began to fear that we should not
reach the Post before the final freeze-up came, and further travel by
canoe would be out of the question. On the morning of September
twenty-ninth, the wind, though still blowing half a gale in our faces,
had so much abated that we were able to launch our canoe and continue
our journey.
It was very cold. The spray froze as it struck our clothing, the canoe
was weighted with ice and our paddles became heavy with it. We ran one
or two short rapids in safety and then started into another that ended
with a narrow strip of white water with a small expansion below. We
had just struck the white water, going at a good speed in what seemed
like a clear course, when the canoe, at its middle, hit a submerged
rock. Before there was time to clear ourselves the little craft swung
in the current, and the next moment I found myself in the rushing,
seething flood rolling down through the rocks.
When I came to the surface I was in the calm water below the rapid and
twenty feet away was the canoe, bottom up, with Easton clinging to it,
his clothing fast on a bolt under the canoe. I swam to him and, while
he drew his hunting knife and cut himself loose, steadied the canoe. We
had neglected--and it was gross carelessness in us--to tie our things
fast, and the lighter bags and paddles were floating away while
everything that was heavy had sunk beyond hope of recovery. The
thwarts, however, held fast in the overturned canoe a bag of pemmican,
one other small bag, the tent and tent stove. Treading water to keep
ourselves afloat we tried to right the canoe to save these, but our
efforts were fruitless. The icy water so benumbed us we could scarcely
control our limbs. The tracking line was fast to the stern thwart, and
with one end of this in his teeth, Easton swam to a little rocky island
just below the rapid and hauled while I swam by the canoe and steadied
the things under the thwarts. It took us half an hour to get the canoe
ashore, and we could hardly stand when he had it righted and the water
emptied out.
Then I looked for wood to build a fire, for I knew that unless we could
get artificial heat immediately we would perish with the cold, for the
very blood in our veins was freezing. Not a stick was there nearer
than an eighth of a mile across the bay. Our paddles were gone, but we
got into the canoe and used our hands for paddles. By the time we
landed Easton had grown very pale. He began picking and clutching
aimlessly at the trees. The blood had congealed in my hands until they
were so stiff as to be almost useless. I could not guide them to the
trousers pocket at first where I kept my waterproof match-box. Finally
I loosened my belt and found the matches, and with the greatest
difficulty managed to get one between my benumbed fingers, and
scratched it on the bottom of the box. The box was wet and the match
head flew off. Everything was wet. Not a dry stone even stuck above
the snow. I tried another match on the box, but, like the first, the
head flew off, and then another and another with the same result.
Under ordinary circumstances I could have secured a light somehow and
quickly, but now my hands and fingers were stiff as sticks and refused
to grip the matches firmly. I worked with desperation, but it seemed
hopeless. Easton's face by this time had taken on the waxen shade that
comes with death, and he appeared to be looking through a haze. His
senses were leaving him. I saw something must be done at once, and I
shouted to him: "Run! run! Easton, run!" Articulation was difficult,
and I did not know my own voice. It seemed very strange and far away
to me. We tried to run but had lost control of our legs and both fell
down. With an effort I regained my feet but fell again when I tried to
go forward. My legs refused to carry me. I crawled on my hands and
knees in the snow for a short distance, and it was all I could do to
recover my feet. Easton had now lost all understanding of his
surroundings. He was looking into space but saw nothing. He was
groping blindly with his hands. He did not even know that he was cold.
I saw that only a fire could save his life, and perhaps mine, and that
we must have it quickly, and made one more superhuman effort with the
matches. One after another I tried them with the same result as before
until but three remained. All depended upon those three matches. The
first one flickered for a moment and my hopes rose, but my poor
benumbed fingers refused to hold it and it fell into the snow and went
out. The wind was drying the box bottom. I tried another--an old
sulphur match, I remember. It burned! I applied it with the greatest
care to a handful of the hairy moss that is found under the branches
next the trunk of spruce trees, and this ignited. Then I put on small
sticks, nursing the blaze with the greatest care, adding larger sticks
as the smaller ones took fire. I had dropped on my knees and could
reach the sticks from where I knelt, for there was plenty of dead wood
lying about. As the blaze grew I rose to my feet and, dragging larger
wood, piled it on. A sort of joyful mania took possession of me as I
watched the great tongues of flames shooting skyward and listened to
the crackling of the burning wood, and I stood back and laughed. I had
triumphed over fate and the elements. Our arms, our clothing, nearly
all our food, our axes and our paddles, and even the means of making
new paddles were gone, but for the present we were safe. Life, no
matter how uncertain, is sweet, and I laughed with the very joy of
living.