FORWARD TO THE FRONT
Shortly after Mr. Bompas was accepted by the Church Missionary Society,
he went to Salisbury Square and inquired how far it was to his
mission-field, and the length of time required for the journey. When told
it was about 8,000 miles, and that he was hardly likely to reach it that
year, a smile passed over his face as he replied, “I see I must start
with a small bag.”
After he learned more about the country, a longing entered into his
heart to start as soon as possible, and reach Fort Simpson, on the
Mackenzie River, by Christmas Day. Was such a thing possible? No one
before had ever done it in winter, and was it likely that the young,
ardent missionary would be the first to accomplish the task? With this
determination, Mr. Bompas was not long in making preparations for his
journey, and on June 30, 1865, he left London for Liverpool, where he
boarded the steamer _Persia_, bound for New York.
Mr. Bompas was surprised that this steamer burnt 100 tons of coal daily;
but now the Cunard liner _Mauretania_ burns 1,000 tons each day in 192
furnaces.
He travelled in company with the Rev. J. P. and Mrs. Gardiner and family
and Miss M. M. Smith, who were going to the Red River. There were many
passengers, mostly Americans, and for these an effort was made to hold
service the first Sunday, but the captain refused to give his permission.
On the following Sunday, however, they were more successful, and service
was held in the saloon, attended by crew and passengers. Tracts were also
distributed among the sailors, “accompanied by religious conversation.”
Reaching New York on July 12, two days were spent at the Astor House
Hotel, where they had the exciting experience of viewing a disastrous
fire right across the street, when a large block of buildings, including
Barnum’s Museum, was destroyed. From New York they proceeded to Niagara
by the Hudson River and New York Central Railway. On the way Mr. Bompas
spent one night at Rochester to see Captain Palmer, of the American
Telegraph Company.
“He informed me,” wrote Mr. Bompas, “that a party of explorers were
already on their way to Fort Yukon from Sidkar,[1] on the Pacific coast,
with the view of carrying out the Company’s contract entered into with
the Russian Government for laying a telegraph-line through Siberia and
across Behring’s Strait, to join existing lines in America. Should
the Atlantic cable prove successful, the Yukon line would, I suppose,
complete the circuit of the globe.”
Mr. Bompas considered the American railways rather noisy and jostling,
and the large saloon carriages, holding about sixty people, less pleasant
than the English style. At the same time, he thought the general
arrangements were “good and expeditious,” and admired the system of
communication throughout the train and the “booking through luggage by
duplicate ‘cheques’ or metal badges.”
Leaving Niagara, they reached Chicago by way of Detroit. Here were seen
“many soldiers returning from the war, some of them wounded, and most
looking pale and sickly, reminding one too plainly of the many who never
returned.” From Chicago they went by rail to La Crosse, and thence
by steamer to St. Paul. Here Dr. Schultz, a Red River merchant, and
afterwards Sir John Schultz, Lieutenant-Governor of Manitoba, was met,
who conveyed their heavy luggage across the plains in his ox-train, and
proved in many ways of great assistance.
At St. Cloud the first difficulty presented itself. Since the fearful
Sioux massacre of 1862, people were in great dread all over the country,
and they found it impossible to get anyone to convey them on towards
Red River. After much trouble and delay, they were forced to procure
a conveyance for themselves. Before leaving St. Cloud, they were told
time and time again to beware of the Indians, who were always prowling
around. “But,” said one informant, “they will respect the English flag,
and I advise you to take one along.” Such a thing the party did not
possess. But Mr. Bompas was equal to the occasion; so, procuring some red
and white cotton, he soon formed quite a respectable banner, which was
fastened to a small flagstaff erected on the cart.
Dr. Schultz had been overtaken some distance out on the prairie, and
when they had gone some way farther mounted Indians appeared in sight,
and, like the wind, one warrior swept down to view the small cavalcade.
Beholding the flag of the clustered crosses, he gazed for a time upon the
little band, and, moving away, he left them unmolested.
“On the whole, however,” said Mr. Bompas, “we travelled without special
discomfort, Dr. Schultz acting as guide. The charge of the horses, making
fires, cooking, encamping, driving, etc., of course threw much work upon
us, being without a servant.”
Reaching the Red River in safety, Mr. Bompas was much pleased with the
whole general appearance of the place.
“The houses,” he wrote, “are cleanly and cheerful, and new ones are being
built. The settlement extends altogether about twenty-five miles down
the banks of the river. In this distance there are five churches. The
three which I saw are well built and spacious. The schoolrooms, also, and
parsonages are of good size. Mr. Cowley was just removing into a new
house of a very substantial character.”
Here Mr. Bompas had not long to wait, for the boats of the great Hudson’s
Bay Company were ready to start on their long northern journey, and he
was to go with them. There were four boats, called a “brigade,” each
rowed by seven or eight men, “mostly Salteaux Indians, heathen, and
unable to speak English—a tribe much averse to Christianity.”
Then northward fled that fleet of boats, across great inland lakes, over
hard portages where the freight had to be carried, past the company’s
posts, mission stations, and Indian encampments, where services were held
when possible.
But winter was rapidly closing in upon them and threatening the daring
voyagers. Sixty-three days had they been out from the Red River
Settlement when Portage la Roche was reached on October 12, and there
they found they were too late to meet any boat going farther north.
Here was a difficult situation, but Mr. Bompas was not to be defeated.
Engaging a canoe and two French half-breeds, he pushed bravely forward.
The journey was a hard one. In some places they had to battle with
drifting ice, and the water froze to their canoe and paddles. Still they
pressed on, all day long contending with running ice, and the bleak, cold
wind whistling around them and freezing the water upon their clothes. At
night there was the lonely shore, the camp-fire, the scanty meal, and
the cold ground covered with brush for a bed. The next day up and on
again—the same weary work, the same hard fight. Such was the struggle for
eight long days, till Fort Chipewyan, on Lake Athabasca, was reached.
Here Mr. Christie, the officer in charge of the post, gave him a hearty
welcome; here the warm stove sent out its cheerful glow, and here, too,
were to be found many comforts for the winter months, if he would only
stay and rest. But no; it was ever up and on. Never before had such a
man stood within the fort. Who could conquer that northern stream at such
a season? But the missionary only smiled, and asked for canoe and men. He
was given a large craft and three Indian lads.
And once more that dauntless herald of the Cross sped northward. For
several days the trim canoe cut the water, driven by determined arms.
Then winter swept down in all its fury; the river became full of floating
ice, jamming, tearing, and impeding their canoe. Axes were brought to
bear; they would cleave a passage. The missionary must not be stopped.
How they did work! The ice-chips flew; the spray dashed and drenched
them, and then encased their bodies with an icy armour. Colder and colder
it grew, and the river became a solid mass from bank to bank. The canoe
was dragged ashore, and placed _en cache_ on the bank with their baggage.
All around was the pitiless wild. It was a dreary sight to this intrepid
traveller, with winter upon him, the bleak wilderness surrounding him,
and very little food. The enthusiasm of a less ardent spirit would have
been completely damped; but Mr. Bompas was made of sterner stuff, and
without delay he and his companions pushed forward through the forest.
On and on they travelled by a circuitous route, through brushwood and
thickets, with clothes torn, hands and faces scratched and bleeding, and
uncertain where they were. Night shut down and wrapped them in its gloomy
mantle. All the next day they struggled forward, without food, and again
night overtook them. Still they staggered on, and just when they were
wearied to the point of exhaustion the lights of Fort Resolution, on
Great Slave Lake, gleamed their welcome through the darkness.
It was necessary for the traveller to remain here until the ice in the
lake became firm enough to cross with dogs and snow-shoes. Mr. Lockhart,
the Company’s officer, offered his hospitality, and during the delay
Mr. Bompas continued busy “in the preparation,” as he tells us, “of
letters for the winter express, which is despatched hence to the south in
December, and also in practising walking with snow-shoes, in preparation
for my journey forward.”
After he had remained at Fort Resolution about a month, “Mr. Lockhart
kindly despatched him across the lake on snow-shoes, with two men and a
sledge of dogs.” Ice was found drifting in the open lake, and they were
obliged to lengthen their course by following the shore very closely.
“However, by God’s help,” wrote Mr. Bompas, “we arrived safely at
the next post (Big Island) in five days, when I was again hospitably
entertained by the officer in charge, Mr. Bird.”
Here again he waited anxiously for the men from Fort Simpson with the
winter packet of mail. They arrived on December 13, and four days later
they started for Fort Simpson, and the missionary with them. Could they
make the fort by Christmas Day? that was the question. Only a short time
remained in which to do it. Day after day they sped forward. Saturday
came, and still they were on the trail, and the next would be Christmas
Day. One hundred and seventy-seven days had passed since leaving London,
and was he to lose after all, and so very near his destination? But still
the dogs raced forward, nearer and nearer, till, oh joy! on Christmas
morning the fort hove into sight. There was the flag floating from its
tall staff; there were the men crowding around to give their welcome,
and among them stood that dauntless pioneer, the Rev. W. W. Kirkby, with
great surprise on his face, as Mr. Bompas rushed forward and seized him
by the hand.
Great was Mr. Bompas’s delight in having accomplished the journey, and
reached the fort on that blessed day in time for the morning service, and
thankfully he wrote:
“As I had especially wished to arrive by Christmas, I could not but
acknowledge a remarkable token that our lives are indeed in God’s hand.
It is hardly needful to say how warm a welcome I received from Mr.
Kirkby. When I heard what a trying time he had passed through last fall
in consequence of the epidemic sickness among the Indians, I felt very
glad to have persevered in my efforts to reach him this winter.”
No less enthusiastically did Mr. Kirkby write to the Church Missionary
Society on June 3, 1886:
“You will imagine, better than I can tell, what a delight and surprise
the unexpected arrival of Mr. Bompas was to us. He reached us in health
and safety on Christmas morning, making the day too doubly happy by
his presence and glad tidings that he brought. He was a Christmas-box
indeed, and one for which we thank God with a full heart. The entire
unexpectedness of his coming caused us to see in it more of the
loving-kindness of our God. Such a thing as an arrival here in winter
is never thought of, nor had it ever before occurred. After the boats
leave here in the fall we have no visitors from without the district
until now, when the waters are open again. Our dear brother deserves the
greatest credit for the way in which he persevered in getting to us,
and the accomplishment of his journey speaks much for his energy and
determination. A more auspicious day, too, he could not have had for his
arrival. He was just in time for morning service, so that we had at once
the happiness of partaking of the Holy Communion together. Then followed
the Indian service, in which he expressed much delight; and in the
evening, like good Samuel Marsden of old, he began his work by preaching
from St. Luke xi. 10. He remained with us until Easter, and then went
on with the packet-men to Great Bear Lake, where I trust God is doubly
blessing him.
“Fancy, it is not yet a year since he left England, and in that short
time he has travelled so far, entered upon his work, and acquired enough
of the language to be able to tell to the Indians in their own tongue the
wonderful works of God. I admire that way of doing things exceedingly,
and would accord all honour to him who thus performs his Master’s work.”