OUT OF THE NORTH
One day when Mr. Bompas was walking along the Yukon River, he returned to
Fort Yukon, and found there a letter awaiting him. It was from England
from the Church Missionary Society, asking him to go all the way to
London to be made Bishop of the vast northern Diocese of Athabasca, which
was to be formed. Mr. Bompas did not want to be a Bishop. He preferred to
live the life of a humble missionary among the Indians whom he so dearly
loved.
In July, 1873, he set his face homewards with the express purpose
of turning the Church Missionary Society from the idea. It was a
long journey that lay ahead of him, fraught with many dangers and
difficulties. The clerk at Fort Yukon, in charge of the American Fur
Company’s post, kindly supplied him with provisions and with two Indian
lads, who had volunteered for the trip. Soon all was ready, and then the
start was made up the Porcupine River; and after two weeks of hard and
persevering labour, he reached the Rocky Mountains. Here the Indians left
him to return to Fort Yukon, and alone and on foot the missionary began
his journey across the mountains. Three days was he in accomplishing the
task, and in a furious snowstorm, “which rendered the mountains almost as
white as in winter,” reached Fort McPherson, Peel River, on August 6.
* * * * *
What it means to cross these mountains may be learned from the terrible
experience of Bishop Stringer during the fall of 1909. It is best given
in the words of Rev. C. E. Whittaker, stationed at Fort McPherson:
“After the Bishop’s return from his Eskimo visitation, he outfitted
for crossing the mountains by the well-known Rat River and McDougall’s
Pass route with Mr. Johnson, who is on his way to Chicago, after eleven
years’ service in the north. They had a sufficient crew, leaving here
September 1, and a good Peterborough canoe; but on the fifth day one
of their Indian men was taken dangerously ill, and he had to be sent
home and more help procured. By this nearly a week was lost, and the
weather becoming colder, the water got very low in the mountain streams.
However, on September 20 they crossed the Divide. The two men attacked
an unknown proposition alone. The battle with ice began the first day,
but, hoping to find more and clearer water in Bell River, they kept
on. The upper reaches of the Bell were easily navigated, but once
through the mountains, the current became very slack, and the ice again
hindered them. They cut heavy birch clubs to smash the ice, hoping to
reach the Porcupine about forty-five miles from the summit. They were
stalled, and had to cache their canoe and baggage. What was to be done
now? La Pierre’s house was close by, but abandoned. There was not a
known Indian camp within 100 miles. Old Crow or Rampart House might be
reached in time if they had supplies, but with only three days’ rations
it was unthinkable. Their starting-point, Fort McPherson, lay beyond
the mountains, and the snow was already deep, and neither of them knew
the trail. This last only seemed not impossible, and they decided to
undertake it. Continuing down the Bell on foot, through the rough willows
and deep snow, they struck the mouth of the La Chute River and followed
it up-stream for several days, killing here and there a few ducks and
spruce grouse to eke out their scanty fare. At Fool’s River, coming in
from the north, they missed the trail, and spent a whole week wallowing
through deep snow and deeper fog in this river and on the mountains near
it. Returning to the mouth, they spent three days making snow-shoes and
cutting up moccasins for webbing. Again ascending the La Chute, they
climbed the Height of Land, and, working by compass, they crossed three
distinct Divides before reaching an east-flowing stream. They saw one
sheep, and once some caribou, but at too great a distance, and going
fast. They were now living on one meal a day, and that meal was less
than one quarter of an average meal. For instance, at one time four red
squirrels and a spoonful each of flour and rice fed them three days;
another day they had a leg of ptarmigan each. They tried eating moccasin
leather, and ended on _messinke_ boots or _muckalucks_, which are made
of raw seal-skin. These are found very nourishing. Food being so scarce,
their strength failed and their progress was slow. At times the fog
was so dense that they could scarcely see a step ahead, and more than
once they trod on the verge of a precipice. Then they had to make long
detours, and so they continued day after day, some nights sleeping on
the mountains without fire, but generally in some creek-bed with a few
willows, sleeping from very weariness and exhaustion. Once the Bishop
said to Mr. Johnson: ‘It is curious, but there is ever rising up in my
mind the words, “Go, labour on, ’tis not for naught.”’ And Mr. Johnson
replied: ‘It is curious indeed, for in my mind there constantly repeats
itself that other hymn, “To the work, to the work! ye are servants of
God.”’ And so, though famished, and worn, and fog-bound, and never
knowing how far they had yet to go to safety, they were ever buoyed up
with a strong hope of ultimate escape. When they finally descended an
eastern slope, and knew that they were at least past the maze of fog,
a thrill of assurance gave them renewed energy, and they followed the
bed of a small river until they came into the Peel, twenty miles above
this post. Here they saw snow-shoe tracks, the first signs of any human
habitation, an Indian having lately passed by that way trapping. Early
next morning they reached an encampment, and they afterwards declared it
was worth coming back to see the kindness and hospitality with which they
were received.”
* * * * *
Starting again by canoe, Mr. Bompas, with two other Indian lads, reached
Fort Simpson, a distance of 800 miles, on September 2, “after three weeks
of fatiguing towing.” Pushing on his way, after a difficult journey,
contending with the cold and swift stream, he reached Portage la Loche
on October 8, having travelled 2,600 miles since July, “and all, except
about 300 to 400 miles, against a strong current.”
Owing to the cold weather he was forced to remain at the Portage for
ten days, and when the swamps were sufficiently frozen, he “started on
foot through the woods to Buffalo Lake in company with two servants of
the Hudson’s Bay Company.” Reaching the lake, he travelled with some
difficulty on the fresh ice around the margin, and at the farther end
found a camp of Indians, who guided him to Isle à la Crosse. Here a
detention of ten days was made, and then he left with dogs and sledge for
Green Lake, with three employés of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The weather
becoming milder, they were forced “to cross one of the intervening rivers
on a raft.”
From Green Lake they entered “on the plain country of Saskatchewan,”
and after a walk of five days reached Fort Carlton. While here Mr.
Bompas visited the Prince Albert Settlement on the banks of the North
Saskatchewan, and says: “This settlement is the first that has been
formed by the immigrants in that neighbourhood, and it bears every sign
of increasing prosperity and success.”
From Carlton House, Touchwood Hills was reached with a horse and sledge.
Here, through the kindness of the postmaster, he was furnished with a
carriole and dogs, and, after a journey of 400 or 500 miles, reached the
Red River Settlement.
“I enjoyed the kind hospitality of the Bishop of Rupert’s Land and
Archdeacon Cowley,” wrote Mr. Bompas, “and was much interested in seeing
the progress of the mission work in the colony. I reached, by God’s good
providence, the first houses of the settlement on the last evening of the
old year, and after nearly six months’ travel in the wilds, I awoke on
New Year’s morning to a new life of civilization and society.”
It is said that when Mr. Bompas reached the episcopal residence and
inquired for Bishop Machray, the servant mistook him for a tramp (in
his rough travelling clothes), and told him his master was very busy,
and could not be disturbed. So insistent was the stranger that the
servant went to the Bishop’s study and told him a tramp was at the door
determined to see him.
“He is hungry, no doubt,” replied the Bishop; “take him into the kitchen
and give him something to eat.”
Accordingly Mr. Bompas was ushered in, and was soon calmly enjoying a
plateful of soup, at the same time urging that he might see the master
of the house. Hearing the talking, and wondering who the insistent
stranger could be, the Bishop appeared in the doorway, and great was his
astonishment to see before him the veteran missionary.
“Bompas!” he cried, as he rushed forward, “is it you?”
We can well realize how Mr. Bompas must have enjoyed this little scene,
and the surprise of the good and noble Bishop of Rupert’s Land.
We will let Mr. Bompas describe the rest of the journey:
“From Manitoba the dog-train was exchanged for the stage-coach for
Moorhead, the terminus of the American railway towards the north-west.
In this the cold was piercing and freezing, even though the travellers
were wrapped in buffalo-skins. The poor horses were utterly exhausted
in drawing the vehicle about fifteen miles through the snow, and though
they were changed thus often, yet at last the journey had to be suspended
during a storm, and in the end the horses, though changed every stage,
occupied a week in performing the same distance as that travelled by the
dogs in four days, more easily and pleasantly—that is, 160 miles.
“The journey was next continued by railway, but from the fires not being
lighted in the cars the cold was intense, and the train was shortly
brought to a standstill in a snow-drift. Though two locomotives were
tugging at it, no progress could be made till the guards with shovels
disengaged the carriage-wheels from the snow which entangled them.
“In Canada the journey by stage-coach was resumed. This was shortly after
overturned into a ditch by the wayside while scaling a snow-drift. The
outside passengers were deposited in an adjoining field, where, to be
sure, the snow provided them with a sufficiently soft bed to fall on. The
inside passengers had a more uncomfortable shaking.
“The journey was next proceeded with by train to Montreal, before
approaching which the cars left the rails, causing some apprehension and
delay, which might have been increased had not the guard been provided
with a powerful winch for the purpose of replacing the carriages on the
track.
“From Montreal, following the Grand Trunk Railway to Portland, I embarked
in the steamship _Scandinavian_, of the Allan line. At starting, the
masts, yards, and deck of the steamer presented a woeful appearance, from
being thickly coated and hung with ice, yet 200 miles were made the first
day. By the constantly increasing head-wind, however, the daily speed was
decreased down to 100 miles per day, at which rate the captain thought
it prudent to shut off half the steam, and diminish the speed to a
minimum, for fear that something should give way in the plunging vessel.
After thirteen days, under the careful seamanship of Captain Smith,
Liverpool was reached on February 13, in the safe-keeping of a protecting
Providence.”
This account is given to show some of the difficulties the traveller
experienced in the early days in his trips to and from England. Mr.
Bompas, after this journey, decided in favour of the dog-team.
“On the whole,” he said, “the dogs may be counted to hold their own in
competing with horse-flesh or steam, whether on land or water.”
At last the soldier was home from the front, the hero among his friends,
and after the years of hardships he might have enjoyed a well-earned
rest. But his thoughts were far away across the ocean in his vast field
of labour, and the voice of the children of the wild was ever urging
him to make haste. The restraints, conventionalities, and luxuries of
civilized life worried him; the narrowness of the streets was unbearable,
and he longed for the smell of the camp-fire, the free, fresh air of the
North, the great untamed streams, the snow-capped mountains, and his
dusky flock.
During his stay in England, Mr. Bompas had many commissions to fulfil,
which occupied much of his time. There were purchases to make for people
in North-West Canada, including six gold watches for as many female
residents, and a pair of corsets for another. Obtaining the latter caused
much worry to the missionary. But he was never known to back down, and
finally the purchase was made. Is it any wonder that he preferred the
life among the Indians, who worried so little concerning the wherewithal
they should be clothed?
[Illustration: WINTER TRAVELLING. A MISSIONARY’S INDIAN HELPER
This picture shows a sled loaded up, with the dogs harnessed, and the
Indian driver standing by them.]
Mr. Bompas was unsuccessful in dissuading the Church Missionary Society
from carrying out their plan, and on May 3 he and John McLean were
elevated to the Episcopate. The consecration took place in the parish
church of St. Mary’s, Lambeth, Dr. Tait, Archbishop of Canterbury, being
assisted by Bishop Jackson of London, Bishop Hughes of St. Asaph, and
Bishop Anderson, late of Rupert’s Land. The sermon was preached by the
last-named prelate, who referred to the two new dioceses of Saskatchewan
and Athabasca:
“To-day the noble plan will be consummated by the consecration of two
more Bishops. One will preside over the Church in the western portion
of the land, labouring among the Indians of the plains, and along the
valley of that river whose source is in the Rocky Mountains, the River
Saskatchewan. The other will have the northern diocese as his own, along
yet mightier lakes, and with rivers which roll down an immense volume and
discharge themselves into the Arctic Ocean.”
After some words addressed to Bishop McLean, the charge which was given
to Bishop Bompas concluded thus:
“You have been there for more than eight years, in labours abundant, and
your love has not lessened nor your zeal slackened. You have brought
home, as the fruit of your labour, portions of Scripture, prayers and
hymns, in seven different dialects or tongues. You are ready to take the
precious treasure out with you—the translations printed and prepared by
the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. You have also one complete
Gospel, that of St. Mark, which the British and Foreign Bible Society has
enabled you to carry through the press.
“But you left good treasure behind, in souls warmed with the love of
Christ and softened by the spirit of grace. You have the hearts of the
Indians and the Eskimo.”