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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c103f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66296 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66296) diff --git a/old/66296-0.txt b/old/66296-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9fe711a..0000000 --- a/old/66296-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8767 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wild North Land, by William Francis -Butler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Wild North Land - The Story of a Winter Journey with Dogs across Northern North - America - -Author: William Francis Butler - -Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66296] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Sonya Schermann, Charlie Howard, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WILD NORTH LAND *** - - - - -[Illustration: DOG-TRAIN FOR THE NORTH. - - _Frontispiece._ -] - - - - - The Wild North Land - - THE STORY OF A WINTER JOURNEY WITH - DOGS ACROSS NORTHERN NORTH AMERICA - - BY LIEUTENANT-GENERAL - - SIR WILLIAM FRANCIS BUTLER, G.C.B. - - AUTHOR OF - - “THE GREAT LONE LAND” AND “RED CLOUD, THE SOLITARY SIOUX” - - - “I cannot rest from travel. I will drink life to the lees.” - “I am become a name for always roaming with a hungry heart.” - - - _WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP_ - - - TORONTO - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF - CANADA, LTD. - 1910 - -[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM BUTLER’S WILD NORTH LAND. - - Part of - BRITISH - NORTH AMERICA - _to illustrate_ - “THE WILD NORTH LAND” - - Weller & Graham L^{td}. Litho, London - -BURNS & OATES.] - - - - -PREFACE. - - -People are supposed to have an object in every journey they undertake -in this world. A man goes to Africa to look for the Nile, to Rome -to see the Coliseum or St. Peter’s; and once, I believe, a certain -traveller tramped all the way to Jerusalem for the sole purpose of -playing ball against the walls of that city. - -As this matter of object, then, seems to be a rule with travellers, it -may be asked by those who read this book, what object had the writer -in undertaking a journey across the snowy wilderness of North America, -in winter and alone? I fear there is no answer to be given to the -question, save such as may be found in the motto on the title-page, or -in the pages of the book itself. - -About eighteen months ago I was desirous of entering upon African -travel. A great explorer had been lost for years in the vast -lake-region of Southern Central Africa, and the British Nation--which, -by the way, becomes singularly attached to a man when he is dead, or -supposed to be dead--grew anxious to go out to look for him. - -As the British Nation could not all go out at once, or together, it -endeavoured to select one or two individuals to carry out its wishes. - -It will be only necessary to state here, that the British Nation did -not select the writer of this book, who forthwith turned his attention -from African tropic zones to American frigid ones, and started out upon -a lonely cruise. - -Many tracks lay before me in that immense region I call “The Wild North -Land.” Former wandering had made me familiar with the methods of travel -pursued in these countries by the Indian tribes, or far-scattered -fur-hunters. Fortunate in recovering possession of an old and -long-tried Esquimaux dog--the companion of earlier travel--I started in -the autumn of 1872 from the Red River of the North, and, reaching Lake -Athabasca, completed half my journey by the first week of March in the -following year. From Athabasca I followed the many-winding channel of -the frozen Peace River to its great cañon in the Rocky Mountains, and, -journeying through this pass--for many reasons the most remarkable one -in the whole range of the Rocky Mountains--reached the north of British -Columbia in the end of May. From thence, following a trail of 350 miles -through the dense forests of New Caledonia, I emerged on the 3rd of -June at the frontier station of Quesnelle on the Frazer River, still -400 miles north of Victoria. - -In the ensuing pages the story of that long tramp--for it was mostly -performed on foot--will be duly set forth. Written by camp fire, or in -cañon, or in the little log-house of a northern fur fort, when dogs and -men rested for a day or two in the long icy run, that narrative will -be found, I fear, to bear many indications of the rough scenes ’mid -which it has been penned; but as, on a former occasion, many critics -passed in gentle silence over the faults and failings of another story -of travel in the Great Lone Land, so now it may be my fortune to tell -to as kindly an audience, this record of a winter’s walk through more -distant wilds--for in truth there has been neither time for revision -nor correction. - -Fortune, which eighteen months ago denied me African adventure, offers -it now with liberal hand. - -I reached the Atlantic from the Pacific shore to find an expedition -starting from England against Ashantee; and long ere this story finds -a reader I hope to be pushing my way through the mangrove swamps which -lie between the Gold Coast and Coomassie. To others even must fall the -task of correcting proofs, while I assume my part in the correction and -revision of King Koffi Kancalli, and the administration to his subjects -of that proof of British prowess which it has been deemed desirable to -give them. - -Meantime, my old friends Chief Kar-ka-konias, Kalder, and Cerf-vola, -will be absent from this new field; but, nevertheless, there will be -present many companions of former travel, and _one_ Chief under whose -command I first sought the Great Lone Land as the threshold to remoter -regions. - - W. F. BUTLER. - - LONDON, - _September 21st, 1873_. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER I. - PAGE - The Situation at Home--The West again--A Land of Silence 1 - - - CHAPTER II. - - Powder versus Primroses--The American Lounger--“Home, sweet - Home” 8 - - - CHAPTER III. - - Fort Garry under new aspects--Social Societies--An old - Friend--Pony “the perverse” 12 - - - CHAPTER IV. - - The Wilderness--A Sunset Scene--A white Savage--Cerf-Vola the - Untiring--Doggerel for a Dog--The Hill of the Wolverine--The - Indian Paradise--I plan a Surprise--Biscuits and Water 21 - - - CHAPTER V. - - The Forks of the Saskatchewan--A perverse Parallel--Diplomatic - Bungling--Its Results 36 - - - CHAPTER VI. - - Our Winter Home--A Welcome--I start again--The Hunter’s - Camp--In quest of Buffalo on the Plains--“Lodge-poling” leads - to Love 43 - - - CHAPTER VII. - - An Ocean of Grass--The Red Man--Whence comes he?--The - Buffalo--Puritans and Pioneers--The Red Man’s Friend 49 - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - Buffalo Hunts--A Picture once seen long remembered--L’Homme - capable--A wonderful Lake--The lost Indian--An Apparition--We - return Home 57 - - - CHAPTER IX. - - Strange Visitors--At-tistighat the Philosopher--Indian - Converts--A Domestic Scene--The Winter Packet--Adam and his - Dogs 70 - - - CHAPTER X. - - A _tale_ of Warfare--Dog-sleds--A Missing Link--The North - Sea--“Winterers”--Samuel Hearne 83 - - - CHAPTER XI. - - A Dog of no Character--The Green Lake--Lac Ile à la Crosse--A - Cold Day--Fort Ile à la Crosse--A long-lost Brother--Lost - upon the Lake--Unwelcome Neighbours--Mr. Roderick - Macfarlane--“A beautiful Morning”--Marble Features 95 - - - CHAPTER XII. - - The Clearwater--A bygone Ocean--A Land of Lakes--The Athabasca - River--Who is he?--Chipewyan Indians--Echo--Major succumbs at - last--Mal de Raquette 118 - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - Lake Athabasca--Northern Lights--Chipewyan--The real Workers of - the World 137 - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - A Hudson’s Bay Fort--It comes at last--News from the outside - World--Tame and wild Savages--Lac Clair--A treacherous - Deed--Harper 143 - - - CHAPTER XV. - - The Peace River--Volcanos--M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr--Half a Loaf - is better than no Bread--An oasis in the Desert--Tecumseh and - Black Hawk 158 - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - The Buffalo Hills--A fatal Quarrel--The exiled - Beavers--“At-tal-loo” deplores his Wives--A Cree Interior--An - attractive Camp--I camp alone--Cerf-vola without a - Supper--The Recreants return--Dunvegan--A Wolf-hunt 171 - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - Alexander Mackenzie--The first Sign of Spring--Spanker - the Suspicious--Cerf-vola contemplates Cutlets--An - Indian Hunter--“Encumbrances”--Furs and Finery--A “Dead - Fall”--The Fur Trade at both Ends--An old Fort--A Night - Attack--Wife-lifting--Cerf-vola in Difficulties and - Boots--The Rocky Mountains at last 191 - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - The wild Animals of the Peace River--Indian Method of hunting - the Moose--Twa-poos--The Beaver--The Bear--Bear’s Butter--A - Bear’s Hug and how it ended--Fort St. John--The River - awakes--A Rose without a Thorn--Nigger Dan--A threatening - Letter--I issue a Judicial Memorandum--Its Effect is all that - could be desired--Working up the Peace River 206 - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - Start from St. John’s--Crossing the Ice--Batiste le - Fleur--Chimeroo--The last Wood-buffalo--A dangerous - Weapon--Our Raft collapses--Across the Half-way River 225 - - - CHAPTER XX. - - Hudson’s Hope--A Lover of Literature--Crossing the Peace--An - unskilful Pilot--We are upset--Our Rescue--A strange Variety - of Arms--The Buffalo’s Head--A glorious View 236 - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - Jacques, the French Miner--A fearful Abyss--The Great Cañon of - the Peace River--We are off on our Western Way--Unfortunate - Indians--A burnt Baby--“The Moose that walks” 247 - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - Still Westward--The Dangers of the Ice--We enter the main - Range--In the Mountains--A Grizzly--The Death of the - Moose--Peace River Pass--Pete Toy--The Ominica--“Travellers” - at Home 263 - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - The Black Cañon--An ugly Prospect--The vanished Boat--We - struggle on--A forlorn Hope--We fail again--An unhoped-for - Meeting and a Feast of Joy--The Black Cañon conquered 279 - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - The Untiring over-estimates his Powers--He is not particular as - to the Nature of his Dinner--Toil and Temper--Farewell to the - Ominica--Germansen--The Mining Camp--Celebrities 294 - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - Mr. Rufus Sylvester--The Untiring developes a new Sphere of - Usefulness--Mansen--A last Landmark 304 - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - British Columbia--Boundaries again--Juan de Fuça--Carver--The - Shining Mountains--Jacob Astor--The Monarch of - Salmon--Oregon--“Riding and Tying”--Nation Lake--The Pacific - 310 - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - The Look-out Mountain--A gigantic Tree--The Untiring retires - before superior Numbers--Fort St. James--A strange Sight in - the Forest--Lake Noola--Quesnelle--Cerf-vola in civilized - Life--Old Dog, good-bye! 327 - - - POSTSCRIPT 343 - - - APPENDIX 349 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - Dog-Train for the North _Frontispiece_ - - PAGE - Cerf-Vola, the Esquimaux Dog 16 - - View from the Spathanaw Watchi 31 - - “Our Hut at the Forks of the Saskatchewan” 43 - - Sunset Scene, with Buffalo 57 - - Tent in the Great Prairie 69 - - The Valley of the Peace River 158 - - Alone in the Wilderness 181 - - Night into Day 187 - - The Wolf-Chase 189 - - Clinging to the Canoe 239 - - Mount Garnet Wolseley and the Peace River 266 - - Cutting up the Moose 271 - - Running stern foremost the Black Cañon 283 - - “The Look-out Mountain” 327 - - - - -THE - -WILD NORTH LAND. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - The Situation at Home.--The West again.--A Land of Silence. - - -There had never been so many armies in England. There was a new army, -and there was an old army; there was an army of militia, an army of -volunteers, and an army of reserve; there were armies on horse, on -foot, and on paper. There was the army of the future--of which great -things were predicted--and far away, lost in a haze of history (but -still more substantial than all other armed realities, present or -future), there lay the great dead army of the past. - -It was a time when everybody had something to do with military matters, -everybody on the social ladder, from the Prime Minister on the topmost -round to the mob-mover on the lowest. - -Committees controlled the army, Departments dressed it, Radicals railed -at it, Liberals lectured upon it, Conservatives condemned it, Peers -wrote pamphlets upon it, Dukes denounced it, Princes paraded it, and -every member of Parliament who could put together half a dozen words -with tolerable grammatical fluency had something to say about it. - -Surely such a period must have been one in which every soldier would -have recognized the grandeur and importance of his profession, and -clung with renewed vigour to a life which seemed of moment to the -whole British nation. But this glowing picture of the great “nation of -shopkeepers,” suddenly fired by military ardour, had its reverse. - -The stream of advancement slowly stagnating under influences devised -to accelerate it, the soldier wearied by eternally learning from -masters the lesson he could have taught, the camp made a place of -garrison routine and not of military manœuvre, the uniform harness -which had galled a Burton, a Palgrave, a Ruxton, and a Hayward, -from ranks where the spirit of adventurous discovery sickened under -chilling regulation--this harness made more unrelaxingly irksome; a -system of promotion regulated by money--the offspring, it is true, of -foul corruption, but which had become not a little purified by lapse -of time; this system, supplanted by one of selection theoretically -pure, but destined to fall into that lowest of all corruptions, -the influence of political jobbery: all this formed the leading -features in that order of things, old and new, which the spectacle -of a neighbouring nation, struck suddenly to the ground by a mighty -army, had caused the panic-stricken British people to overhaul and to -reconstruct. - -Taken any way one can, an army on paper is not a satisfactory -profession. It is subject to sudden and unlooked-for bursts of military -zeal; it is so bent upon nervously asserting itself fit for anything; -it is from its nature so much akin to pen, ink, and envelope of a -common-place type; it has such disagreeable methods of garrisoning the -most pestilential spots upon the earth, and abandoning to republican -bluster whole continents called colonies; those who shape its destinies -are so ready to direct it against matchlock monarchs and speared -soldiery; while arms are folded before those conflicts which change the -past and future of the centuries; all these considerations go a great -way towards making the profession of arms, on paper, at any time an -anomaly. - -But when there was also present to the memory of one who thus regarded -the new order of military life, the great solitudes, the inland oceans, -the desolate wilds, the gloomy forests of a far-away land, through -which his former wanderings had carried him; when thought re-sought -again those vast regions of the earth where Nature has graven her image -in characters so colossal, that man seems to move slowly amidst an -ocean frozen rigid by lapse of time, frozen into those things we name -mountains, rivers, prairies, forests; man a mere speck, powerless so -far to mark his presence, in blur of smoke, in noise of city, in clash -of crank, or whirl of wheel: when these things came back in pictures -touched by the soft colours Memory loves to limn with, there were not -wanting dull professional outlooks and dearth of service to turn the -footsteps gladly into the old regions again, there to trace new paths -through the almost exhaustless waste which lies between the lonely -prairies of the Saskatchewan and the icy oceans of the North. - -What shall we call this land to those who follow us into its depths? - -It has prairies, forests, mountains, barren wastes, and rivers; rivers -whose single lengths roll through twice a thousand miles of shoreland; -prairies over which a rider can steer for months without resting -his gaze on aught save the dim verge of the ever-shifting horizon; -mountains rent by rivers, ice-topped, glacier-seared, impassable; -forests whose sombre pines darken a region half as large as Europe; -sterile, treeless wilds whose 400,000 square miles lie spread in awful -desolation. How shall it all be called? - -In summer, a land of sound, a land echoing with the voices of birds, -the ripple of running water, the mournful music of the waving -pine-branch; in winter, a land of silence, a land hushed to its inmost -depths by the weight of ice, the thick-falling snow, the intense rigour -of a merciless cold--its great rivers glimmering in the moonlight, -wrapped in their shrouds of ice; its still forests rising weird and -spectral against the Aurora-lighted horizon; its notes of bird or brook -hushed as if in death; its nights so still that the moving streamers -across the northern skies seem to carry to the ear a sense of sound, so -motionless around, above, below, lies all other visible nature. - -If then we call this region the land of stillness, that name will -convey more justly than any other the impress most strongly stamped -upon the winter’s scene. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - Powder _versus_ Primroses.--The American Lounger.--“Home, Sweet - Home.” - - -It was just time to leave London. The elm-trees in the parks were -beginning to put forth their earliest and greenest leaves; innumerable -people were flocking into town because custom ordained that the country -must be quitted when the spring is at its finest; as though the odour -of primroses had something pestilential about it, and anything in -the shape of violets except violet powder was terribly injurious to -feminine beauty. - -Youthful cosmopolites with waxed moustaches had apparently decided to -compromise with the spring, and to atone for their abandonment of the -country by making a miniature flower-garden of their button-holes. It -was the last day of April, and ere the summer leaves had yellowed along -the edge of the great sub-Arctic forest, my winter hut had to be hewn -and built from the pine-logs of the far-distant Saskatchewan. - -In the saloon or on the after-deck of a Cunard steamship steering west, -one sees perhaps more of America’s lounging class than can be met with -on any other spot in the world; the class is a limited one, in fact it -may be a matter of dispute, whether the pure and simple lounger, as we -know him in Piccadilly or Pall Mall, is to be found in the New World; -but a three, or six, or twelve months’ visit to Europe has sufficiently -developed the dormant instincts of the class in the New York or Boston -man of business, to give colour to the assumption that Columbia -possesses a lounger. - -It is possible that he is a lounger only for the moment. That one -glimpse of Bunker, one echo of Wall Street, will utterly banish for -ever the semblance of lounging; but for the present the Great Pyramid -_minus_ Bunker’s Hill, the Corso _minus_ Wall Street, have done -something towards stamping him with the air and manner of the idler. -For the moment he sips his coffee, or throws his cigar-end overboard, -with a half-thoughtful, half-_blasé_ air; for the moment he has -discovered that the sun does not rise and set exclusively in the United -States, and that there were just a few shreds and patches of history -in the world prior to the declaration of American independence: still, -when the big ship has steamed on into the shallow waters which narrow -into Sandy Hook or Plymouth Sound, and the broad panorama twixt Long -Island and Staten, or Plymouth and Nahant opens on the view, the old -feeling comes back with the old scenes again. - -“Sir, the Bay of New York closely resembles the Bay of Naples.” There -is not the slightest use in telling him that it is quite as like the -Bey of Tunis, or the Hospodar of Bulgaria--so we let it be. - -“There, sir, is Bunker’s Hill.” - -“Ah, indeed!” drawled a genuine British lounger, with that superb -ignorance only to be attained after generations of study, as he quietly -scanned the ridge through his lazily-arranged eye-glass. “Bunker--who -was Bunker? and what did he do on his hill?” - -Yet, ere we hasten away to the North, another word anent our cousin. -These things are, after all, the exception; the temptation to tell a -good story, or what we may deem such, must not blind us to the truth; -the other side of the question must not be forgotten. An English -traveller in America will have so much to thank American travel for -that he can well afford to smile at such things. - -It was an American who painted for us the last scenes of Moorish -history, with a colouring as brilliant as that which the Hall of -the Lions could boast of in the old days of Grenada’s glory. To-day -an American dwelling in Rome recalls for us in marble the fierce -voluptuous beauty of the Egyptian Queen. Another catches the colouring -of Claude, in his “Twilight in the Wilderness.” And if, as I have -somewhere heard, it is to the writer of the ballad-song that true -poetic fame belongs, that song which is heard at lonely camp-fires, -which is sung by sailors at the wheel as the canvas-clouded ship reels -on under the midnight gloom through the tumbling seas,--the song which -has reached the heart of a nation, and lives for ever in the memory of -a people,--then let us remember, when we listen to those wondrous notes -on whose wings float the simple words, “Be it ever so humble, there is -no place like home;” let us remember the land whose memory called them -forth from the heart of an American exile. - -And now we must away. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - Fort Garry under new aspects.--Social Societies.--An Old - Friend.--“Pony” the perverse. - - -The long, hot, dusty American summer was drawing to a close. The -sand-fly had had his time, the black-fly had run his round, the -mosquito had nearly bitten himself to death, and during that operation -had rendered existence unbearable to several millions of the human -race. The quiet tranquil fall-time had followed the fierce wasting -summer, and all nature seemed to rest and bask in the mellow radiance -of September. - -It was late in the month of September, 1872, when, after a summer of -travel in Canada and the United States, I drew near the banks of the -Red River of the North. Two years had worked many changes in scene and -society; a railroad had reached the river; a “city” stood on the spot -where, during a former visit, a midnight storm had burst upon me in the -then untenanted prairie. Three steamboats rolled the muddy tide of the -winding river before their bluff, ill-shapen bows. Gambling-houses and -drinking-saloons, made of boards and brown paper, crowded the black, -mud-soaked streets. A stage-coach ran north to Fort Garry 250 miles, -and along the track rowdyism was rampant. Horse-stealing was prevalent, -and in the “city” just alluded to two murderers walked quietly at -large. In fine, the land which borders the Red River, Minnesota, and -Dakota, had been thoroughly _civilized_. - -But civilization had worked its way even deeper into the North-west. -The place formerly known as Fort Garry had civilized into the shorter -denomination of “Garry;” the prairie around the Fort had corner -lots which sold for more hundreds of dollars than they possessed -frontage-feet; and society was divided in opinion as to whether the -sale which called forth these prices was a “bogus” one or not. - -Representative institutions had been established in the new province -of Manitoba, and an election for members of Parliament had just been -concluded. Of this triumph of modern liberty over primeval savagery, it -is sufficient to say, that the great principle of freedom of election -had been fully vindicated by a large body of upright citizens, who, -in the freest and most independent manner, had forcibly possessed -themselves of the poll-books, and then fired a volley from revolvers, -or, in the language of the land, “emptied their shooting-irons” into -another body of equally upright citizens, who had the temerity to -differ with them as to the choice of a political representative. - -Civilization had also developed itself in other ways. Several national -societies had been founded, and were doing prosperously. There was a -St. George’s Society and a St. Andrew’s Society, and, I think, also a -St. Patrick’s Society. Indeed the memory of these saints appears to -be held in considerable reputation in the New World. According to the -prospectus and programme of these societies, charity appears to be -the vital principle of each association: sick Scotchmen, emigrating -English, and indigent Irish, were all requested to come forward and -claim relief at the hands of the wealthier sons of St. Andrew, St. -George, and St. Patrick. Charity, which is said to begin at home, -and which, alas! too frequently ends there also, having thus had its -commencement in the home circle, seemed determined to observe all -home-like institutions; and the annual dinner was of necessity a very -important item in the transactions of each society. - -Amidst all these changes of scene and society there was one thing still -unchanged on the confines of the Red River. Close to the stream, at -the place known as the Point of Frogs, an old friend met me with many -tokens of recognition. A tried companion was he through many long days -of wintry travel. There, as fresh and hearty as when I had parted from -him two years before, stood Cerf-vola, the Esquimaux dog who had led -my train from Cumberland, on the Lower Saskatchewan, across the ice -of the great Lakes. Of the four dogs he alone remained. Two years is -a long time in the life of any dog, but still a longer period in that -of a hauling-dog; and Cerf-vola’s comrades of that date, Muskeymote, -Cariboo, and Tigre had gone the way of all earthly things. - -To become the owner of this old friend again, and of his new companions -Spanker and Pony, was a work of necessity; and I quitted the Point -of Frogs by the steamboat “Selkirk” with three hauling-dogs in my -possession. Strong and stout as of yore; clean-limbed, long-woolled, -deep-chested; with ears pointed forward and tail close curled over his -broad back, Cerf-vola still stood the picture of an Esquimaux. - -Of the other two dogs, Pony was a half-breed, and Spanker, sharp, keen, -and restless, was like his leader, a pure Husky; but, unlike the older -dog, his nature was wild and fierce: some malignant guardian of his -youth had despoiled him of the greater part of his tail, and by doing -so had not a little detracted from his personal appearance. - -[Illustration: CERF-VOLA, THE ESQUIMAUX DOG.] - -As these three animals will be my constant companions during many -months, through many long leagues of ice and snow, I have here sketched -their outward semblance with some care. Civilization and a steamboat -appeared to agree but poorly with my new friends. Spanker, failing in -making his teeth emancipate his own neck, turned all his attention -towards freeing his companion, and after a deal of toil he succeeded -in gnawing Pony loose. This notable instance of canine abnegation (in -which supporters of the Darwinian theory will easily recognize the -connecting link between the Algerine captives assisting each other to -freedom, &c., &c., after the manner of the Middle Ages), resulted in -the absconding of the dog Pony, who took advantage of the momentary -grounding of the steamer to jump on shore and disappear into the -neighbouring forest. - -It was a wild, tempestuous night; the storm swept the waters of the Red -River until at length the steamboat was forced to seek her moorings -against the tree-lined shore. Here was a chance of recovering the lost -dog. Unfortunately the boat lay on the Dakota side, and the dog was at -large somewhere on the Minnesota shore, while between the stormy water -heaved in inky darkness. How was the capture to be effected? - -As I stood on the lower deck of the steamboat, pondering how to cross -the dark river, a man paddled a small skiff close to the boat’s side. -“Will you be good enough to put me across the river?” I asked. - -“I’ve no darned time to lose a night like this,” he answered, “but if -you want to cross jump in.” The lantern which he carried showed the -skiff to be half-filled with water, but the chance was too good to be -lost. I sprang in, and we shot away over the rough river. Kneeling in -the bottom of the boat I held the lantern aloft, while my gruff comrade -paddled hard. At last we touched the shore; clambering up the wet, -slippery bank, I held the light amidst the forest; there, not twenty -paces distant, stood Pony. - -“Pony, poor fellow, good dog, come, Pony, cess, cess, poor old boy.” -Alas! all the alluring dogisms by which we usually attract the animal -were now utterly useless, and the more I cried “Here, here,” the -more the wretch went there, there. Meanwhile my boating friend grew -impatient; I could hear him above the storm shouting and cursing at me -with great volubility: so I made my way back to the shore, gave him -his lantern, and went back into the forest, while he shot out into the -darkness of the river. - -Every now and again I heard the brute Pony close to me in the -brushwood. For some time I wandered on; suddenly a light glimmered -through the wet trees: approaching the light I found it to issue from -an Indian wigwam, and at my summons two or three half-clad creatures -came out. There was a dog lost in the woods, would they get lights and -help me to catch him? a dollar would be the reward. The dollar threw -a new light upon the matter. Burning brands were instantly brought -forth from the wigwam fire, but with little result; the vagabond Pony, -now utterly scared out of all semblance of dog wit, sought safety in -the deepest recesses of the forest, from whence he poured forth howls -into the night. I returned to the river, and with the aid of my wigwam -friends regained the steamboat. Half an hour later the man on watch saw -a dark object swimming around the boat; it was the lost dog. Cerf-vola, -tied in the rain as a lure, had continued to howl without intermission, -and the vagrant Pony had evidently come to the conclusion that there -were worse places on a wet autumnal night than the warm deck of the -steamboat “Selkirk.” - -In the earliest days of October all phases of civilization were passed -with little regret; and at the Rat Creek, near the southern shore of -Lake Manitoba, I bid good-bye to society. The party was a small one--a -member of the Imperial Legislature, well known in Ireland, now _en -route_ to get a glimpse of the great solitudes ere winter had closed -in, his servant, mine own, five horses, and two carts. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - The Wilderness.--A Sunset-Scene.--A white Savage.--Cerf-vola - the Untiring.--Doggerel for a Dog.--The Hill of the - Wolverine.--The Indian Paradise.--I plan a Surprise.-- - Biscuits and Water. - - -It was the 4th of October, bright with the warmth of the fading -summer--that quiet glow which lingers over the face of nature, like the -hectic flush upon a dying beauty, ere the wintry storms come to kill. - -Small and insignificant, the Musk-Rat Creek flows on towards Lake -Manitoba amidst bordering thickets of oak and elm trees. On each -side, a prairie just beginning to yellow under the breath of the cold -night wind; behind, towards the east, a few far-scattered log-houses -smoke, and a trace of husbandry; the advanced works of that army whose -rear-guard reaches to the Vistula; before, towards the west, the sun -going down over the great silent wilderness. How difficult to realize -it! How feeble are our minds to gauge its depths! - -He who rides for months through the vast solitudes sees during the -hours of his daily travel an unbroken panorama of distance. The -seasons come and go; grass grows and flowers die; the fire leaps with -tiger bounds along the earth; the snow lies still and quiet over hill -and lake; the rivers rise and fall, but the rigid features of the -wilderness rest unchanged. Lonely, silent, and impassive; heedless of -man, season, or time, the weight of the Infinite seems to brood over -it. Once only in the hours of day and night a moment comes when this -impassive veil is drawn from its features, and the eye of the wanderer -catches a glimpse of the sunken soul of the wilderness; it is the -moment which follows the sunset; then a deeper stillness steals over -the earth, colours of wondrous hue rise and spread along the western -horizon. In a deep sea of emerald and orange of fifty shades, mingled -and interwoven together, rose-coloured isles float anchored to great -golden threads; while, far away, seemingly beyond and above all, one -broad flash of crimson light, the parting sun’s last gift, reddens -upwards to the zenith. And then, when every moment brings a change, and -the night gathers closer to the earth, and some waveless, nameless lake -glimmers in uncertain shore-line and in shadow of inverted hill-top; -when a light that seems born of another world (so weirdly distant -is it from ours) lingers along the western sky, then hanging like a -lamp over the tomb of the sun, the Evening Star gleams out upon the -darkening wilderness. - -It may be only a fancy, a conceit bred from loneliness and long -wandering, but at such times the great solitude has seemed to me to -open its soul, and that in its depths I read its secrets. - -Ten days dawned and died; the Mauvais Bois, the Sand Ridges, -western shore of an older world’s immense lake, the Pine Creek, the -far-stretching hills of the Little Saskatchewan rose, drew near, and -faded behind us. A wild, cold storm swept down from the north, and, -raging a day and a night, tore the yellow leaves from the poplar -thickets, and scared the wild fowl far southward to a warmer home. - -Late on the 10th of October we reached the Hudson’s Bay Company’s post -of Beaver Creek, the western limit to the travels of my friend. Here, -after a stay of three days and a feast of roasted beaver, we parted; he -to return to Killarney, St. Stephen’s, and Denominational Education--a -new name for the old feud between those great patriot armies, the -_Ins_ and the _Outs_; I to seek the lonely lands where, far beyond the -distant Saskatchewan, the great Unchagah, parent of a still mightier -stream, rolls through remote lakes and whispering pines its waters to -the Polar Seas. - -With one man, three horses and three dogs, and all those requisites of -food, arms, and raiment with which a former journey had familiarized -me, I started on the 14th of October bound for the North-west. I was -virtually alone; my companion was a half-breed taken at chance from -the wigwam at the scene of the dog Pony’s midnight escapade on the -Red River. Chance had on this occasion proved a failure, and the man -had already shown many symptoms of worthlessness. He had served as a -soldier in an American corps raised by a certain Hatch, to hold in -check the Sioux after the massacre of Minnesota in 1862. A raid made by -nine troopers of this corps, against an Indian tent occupied by some -dozen women and children, appears to have been the most noteworthy -event in the history of Hatch’s Battalion. Having surrounded the wigwam -in the night, these cowards shot the miserable inmates, then scalping -and mutilating their bodies they returned to their comrades, bearing -the gory scalp-locks as trophies of their prowess. - -Hatch is said to have at once forwarded to Washington a despatch, -announcing “a decisive victory over the Sioux by the troops under his -command.” But a darker sequel to the tale must remain in shadow, for, -if the story told to a Breton missionary rests on a base of truth, -the history of human guilt may be searched in vain for a parallel of -atrocity. - -I had other companions besides this _ci-devant_ trooper, of a far -more congenial nature, to share my spare time with. A good dog is so -much a nobler beast than an indifferent man that one sometimes gladly -exchanges the society of one for that of the other. - -A great French writer has told us that animals were put on earth to -show us the evil effects of passions run riot and unchecked. But it -seems to me that the reverse would be closer to the truth. The humanity -which Napoleon deemed a dog taught to man on Bassano’s battle-field is -not the only virtue we can learn from that lower world which is bound -to us by such close ties, and yet lies so strangely apart from us. Be -that as it may, a man can seldom feel alone if he has a dog to share -his supper, to stretch near him under the starlight, to answer him with -tail-wag, or glance of eye, or prick of ear. - -Day after day Cerf-vola and his comrades trotted on in all the freedom -which summer and autumn give to the great dog family in the north. Now -chasing a badger, who invariably popped into his burrow in time to -save his skin; now sending a pack of prairie grouse flying from the -long grass; now wading breast-deep into a lake where a few wild ducks -still lingered, loath to quit their summer nesting-haunts. - -Of all the dogs I have known Cerf-vola possessed the largest share of -tact. He never fought a pitched battle, yet no dog dared dispute his -supremacy. Other dogs had to maintain their leadership by many a deadly -conflict, but he quietly assumed it, and invariably his assumption -was left unchallenged; nay, even upon his arrival at some Hudson Bay -fort, some place wherein he had never before set foot, he was wont -to instantly appoint himself director-general of all the Company’s -dogs, whose days from earliest puppyhood had been passed within the -palisades. I have often watched him at this work, and marvelled by what -mysterious power he held his sway. I have seen two or three large dogs -flee before a couple of bounds merely made by him in their direction, -while a certain will-some-one-hold-me-back? kind of look pervaded his -face, as though he was only prevented from rending his enemy into small -pieces by the restraining influence which the surface of the ground -exercised upon his legs. - -His great weight no doubt carried respect with it. At the lazy time -of the year he weighed nearly 100 pounds, and his size was in no way -diminished by the immense coat of hair and fine fur which enveloped -him. Had Sir Boyle Roche known this dog he would not have given to a -bird alone the faculty of being in two places at once, for no mortal -eye could measure the interval between Cerf-vola’s demolishment of two -pieces of dog-meat, or Pemmican, flung in different directions at the -same moment. - -Thus we journeyed on. Sometimes when the sheen of a lake suggested the -evening camp, while yet the sun was above the horizon, my three friends -would accompany me on a ramble through the thicket-lined hills. At such -times, had any Indian watched from sedgy shore or bordering willow -copse the solitary wanderer who, with dogs following close, treaded the -lonely lake shore, he would have probably carried to his brethren a -strange story of the “white man’s medicine.” He would have averred that -he had heard a white man talking to a big, bushy-tailed dog, somewhere -amidst the Touchwood Hills, and singing to him a “great medicine song” -when the sun went down. - -And if now we reproduce for the reader the medicine song which the -white man strung together for his bushy-tailed dog, we may perhaps -forestall some critic’s verdict by prefixing to it the singularly -appropriate title of - -DOGGEREL. - - And so, old friend, we are met again, companions still to be, - Across the waves of drifted snow, across the prairie sea. - Again we’ll tread the silent lake, the frozen swamp, the fen, - Beneath the snow-crown’d sombre pine we’ll build our camp again: - And long before the icy dawn, while hush’d all nature lies, - And weird and wan the white lights flash across the northern skies; - Thy place, as in past days thou’lt take, the leader of the train, - To steer until the stars die out above the dusky plain; - Then on, thro’ space by wood and hill, until the wintry day - In pale gleams o’er the snow-capped ridge has worn itself away, - And twilight bids us seek the brake, where midst the pines once more - The fire will gleam before us, the stars will glimmer o’er. - There stretch’d upon the snow-drift, before the pine log’s glare, - Thy master’s couch and supper with welcome thou wilt share, - To rest, unless some prowling wolf should keep thee watchful still, - While lonely through the midnight sounds his wail upon the hill. - - And when the storm raves around, and thick and blinding snow - Comes whirling in wild eddies around, above, below; - Still all unmoved thou’lt keep thy pace as manfully as when - Thy matchless mettle first I tried in lone Pasquia’s glen. - Thus day by day we’ll pierce the wilds where rolls the Arctic stream, - Where Athabasca’s silent lakes, through whispering pine-trees gleam. - Until, where far Unchagah’s flood by giant cliffs is crown’d, - Thy bells will feed the echoes, long hungering for a sound. - Old dog, they say thou hast no life beyond this earth of ours, - That toil and truth give thee no place amidst Elysian bowers. - Ah well, e’en so, I look for thee when all our danger’s past, - That on some hearth-rug, far at home, thou’lt rest thy limbs at last. - -A long distance of rolling plain, of hills fringed with thickets, of -treeless waste, and lakes spreading into unseen declivities, stretches -out between the Qu’Appelle and Saskatchewan rivers. Roamed over by but -few bands of Indians, and almost bereft of the larger kind of game, -whose bleached bones cover it thickly, this expanse lies in unbroken -solitude for more than three hundred miles. Through it the great trail -to the north lays its long, winding course; but no other trace of man -is to be found; and over lake and thicket, hill and waste, broods the -loneliness of the untenanted. - -Once it was a famous field of Indian fight, in the old days when -Crees and Assineboine strove for mastery. Now it has almost lost the -tradition of battle, but now and again a hill-top or a river-course, -whose French or English name faintly echoes the Indian meaning, tells -to the traveller who cares to look below the surface some story of -fight in bygone times. - -The hill of the Wolverine and the lonely Spathanaw Watchi have -witnessed many a deed of Indian daring and Indian perfidy in days not -long passed away, but these deeds are now forgotten, for the trader -as he unyokes his horses at their base, and kindles his evening fire, -little recks of such things, and hails the hill-top only as a landmark -on his solitary road. - -Alone in a vast waste the Spathanaw Watchi lifts his head, thickets -and lakes are at his base, a lonely grave at top, around four hundred -miles of horizon; a view so vast that endless space seems for once -to find embodiment, and at a single glance the eye is satiated with -immensity. There is no mountain range to come up across the sky-line, -no river to lay its glistening folds along the middle distance, no dark -forest to give shade to foreground or to fringe perspective, no speck -of life, no track of man, nothing but the wilderness. Reduced thus to -its own nakedness, space stands forth with almost terrible grandeur. -One is suddenly brought face to face with that enigma which we try -to comprehend by giving to it the names of endless, interminable, -measureless; that dark inanity which broods upon a waste of moorland -at dusk, and in which fancy sees the spectral and the shadowy. - -[Illustration: VIEW FROM THE SPATHANAW WATCHI.] - -Yet in this view from the Spathanaw there is nothing dimly seen; the -eye travels to the farthest distance without one effort of vision, and, -reaching there, rests untired by its long gaze. As the traveller looks -at this wonderful view he stands by the grave of an Indian, and he sees -around him for four hundred miles the Indian Paradise. It was from -scenes such as this, when the spring had covered them with greensward, -and the wild herds darkened them by their myriads, that the shadowy -sense of a life beyond the tomb took shape and form in the Red man’s -mind. - -It was the 25th of October when I once more drew near to the South -Saskatchewan. - -Amidst its high wooded banks the broad river rippled brightly along, -as yet showing no trace of that winter now so close at hand. Two years -before, all but a few days, I had reached this same river, then shored -by dense masses of ice; and now, as I looked from the southern shore, -the eye had no little difficulty in tracing through the lingering -foliage of the summer the former point of passage, where on the -cold November morning my favourite horse had gone down beneath the -ice-locked river. - -Crossing to the southern shore I turned eastward through a rich -undulating land, and riding hard for one day reached the little -mission station of Prince Albert, midway between the Red River and the -Rocky Mountains. - -Those who have followed me through former wanderings may remember a -spot where two large rivers unite after many hundred miles of prairie -wandering, and form one majestic current on the edge of the Great -Northern Forest. To this spot, known as the “Grand Forks of the -Saskatchewan,” I was now journeying, for there, while the autumn was -yet younger, two friends had preceded me to build at the point of -confluence a hut for our residence during the early winter. - -The evening of the 28th of October found me pushing hastily through a -broad belt of firs and pines which crosses the tongue of land between -the rivers some ten miles from their junction; beyond this belt of -trees the country opened out, but, as it finally narrowed to the point -of confluence, the dark pine-clumps, outliers of the dense Northern -Forest, again rose into view. With these features a previous visit had -made me acquainted; but the night had now closed in ere yet the fir -forest had been passed, and the rain, which all day had been ceaseless, -settled down with darkness into a still heavier torrent. As we emerged -from the pines my baggage-cart suddenly broke down, and there only -remained the alternative of camping by the scene of the disaster, or -pushing on for the river junction on foot. - -Unfortunately the prospect of unexpectedly walking in upon my friends, -housed in the depths of the wilderness, amidst the wild rain-storm -of the night, proved too strong a temptation; and having secured the -cart as best we could against weather and wolves, we set out into the -darkness. For more than an hour we walked hard through undulating -ground intermixed with swamps and beaver dams, until at length the land -began to decline perceptibly. - -Descending thus for nearly a mile we came suddenly upon a large, -quick-running river, whose waters chafed with sullen noise against -boulder-lined shores, and hissed under the wild beating of the rain. -With cautious steps we groped our way to the edge and cast a dry branch -into the flood; it floated towards the left; the river, then, must -be the South Saskatchewan. Was the junction of this river with the -northern branch yet distant? or was it close at hand? for if it was -near, then my home was near too. - -Making our way along the shore we held on for some time, until suddenly -there rose before us a steep bank, at the base of which the current ran -in whirling eddies. To climb up a high bank on our left, and thus flank -this obstacle, next became our toil; soon we found ourselves in a -dense wood where innumerable fallen trees lay in endless confusion. For -another hour we groped our way through this labyrinth in a vain attempt -to reach the upper level, until at last, exhausted by hours of useless -toil, wet, hungry, and bruised, I gave the reluctant word to camp. - -To camp, what a mockery it seemed without blankets or covering save our -rain-soaked clothes, without food save a few biscuits. The cold rain -poured down through leafless aspens, and shelter there was none. It was -no easy matter to find a dry match, but at length a fire was made, and -from the surrounding wood we dragged dead trees to feed the flames. -There is no necessity to dwell upon the miserable hours which ensued! -All night long the rain hissed down, and the fire was powerless against -its drenching torrents. Towards morning we sunk into a deep sleep, -lying stretched upon the soaking ground. - -At last a streak of dawn broke over the high eastern shore, the light -struggled for mastery with the surrounding darkness and finally -prevailed, and descending to the river showed the broad current -sweeping on to the north-east. Quitting without regret our cheerless -bivouac, we climbed with stiff limbs the high overhanging bank, and -gained the upper level. Far away the river still held its course to -the north-east, deep sunken 300 feet below the prairie level: we were -still distant from the Forks. - -Retracing our steps through miles of fallen timber we reached the cart, -but the morning had worn on to mid-day before our long-wished-for -breakfast smoked in the kettle. Three hours later on, during an evening -which had cleared sufficiently to allow the sun to glint through cloud -rifts on pine forest and prairie, I reached the lofty ridge which -overlooks the Forks of the Saskatchewan. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - The Forks of the Saskatchewan.--A perverse Parallel.-- - Diplomatic Bungling.--Its results. - - -Two hundred and fifty feet above water level, the narrow tongue of -land rises over the junction of the two Saskatchewan rivers. Bare and -level at top, its scarped front descends like a wall to the rivers; but -land-slip and the wear of time have carried down to a lower level the -loose sand and earth of the plateau, and thickly clustering along the -northern face, pines, birch, and poplar shroud the steep descent. It is -difficult to imagine a wilder scene than that which lay beneath this -projecting point. - -From north-west and from south-west two broad rivers roll their waters -into one common channel, two rivers deep furrowed below the prairie -level, curving in great bends through tree-fringed valleys. One river -has travelled through eight hundred miles of rich rolling landscape; -the other has run its course of nine hundred through waste and arid -solitudes; both have had their sources in mountain summits where the -avalanche thundered forth to solitude the tidings of their birth. And -here at this point, like two lives, which, coming from a distance, are -drawn together by some mysterious sympathy, and blended into one are -henceforth to know only the final separation, these rivers roll their -currents into one majestic stream, which, sinking into a deep gorge, -sweeps eastward through unbroken pine forest. As yet no steamboat -furrows the deep water; no whistle breaks the sleeping echoes of these -grim scarped shores; the winding stream rests in voiceless solitude, -and the summer sun goes down beyond silent river reaches, gleaming upon -a virgin land. - -Standing at this junction of the two Saskatchewan rivers, the traveller -sees to the north and east the dark ranks of the great sub-Arctic -forest, while to the south and west begin the endless prairies of the -middle continent. It is not a bad position from whence to glance at the -vast region known to us as British North America. - -When the fatal error at Saratoga had made room for diplomatists of -Old and New England, and removed the arbitrament of rebellion from -the campaign to the council, those who drew on the part of Great -Britain the boundary-lines of her transatlantic empire, bungled even -more conspicuously in the treaty-chamber than her generals had failed -in the field. Geographical knowledge appears ever to have been deemed -superfluous to those whose business it was to shape the destinies of -our colonial dominions, and if something more tangible than report be -true, it is not many months since the British members at a celebrated -conference stared blankly at each other when the free navigation of -a river of _more than two thousand miles in length_ was mooted at -the Council Board. But then, what statesman has leisure to master -such trifles as the existence of the great river Yukon, amid the -more important brain toil of framing rabbit laws, defining compound -householders, and solving other equally momentous questions of our -Imperial and Parochial politics? However to our subject. When in -1783 the great quarrel between Britain and her Colonies was finally -adjusted, the northern boundary of the United States was to follow the -49th parallel of latitude from the north-west angle of the Lake of the -Woods to the river Mississippi, and thence down that river, &c., &c. - -Nothing could possibly have been more simple, a child might comprehend -it; but unfortunately it fell out in course of time that the 49th -parallel was one of very considerable latitude indeed not at all a -parallel of diplomatic respectability, or one that could be depended -on, for neither at one end or the other could it be induced to approach -the north-west angle of the Lake of the Woods or the river Mississippi. -Do all that sextant, or quadrant, or zenith telescope could, the 49th -parallel would not come to terms. - -Doggedly and determinedly it kept its own course; and, utterly -regardless of big-wig or diplomatic fogie, it formed an offensive -and defensive alliance with the Sun and the Pole Star (two equally -obstinate and big-wig disrespectful bodies), and struck out for itself -an independent line. - -Beyond the Mississippi there lay a vast region, a region where now -millions (soon to be tens of millions) draw from prairie and river flat -the long-sleeping richness of the soil. Then it was a great wilderness, -over which the dusky bison and his wilder master roamed, in that fierce -freedom which civilization ends for ever. - -To the big-wigs at the Council Board this region was a myth--a land so -far beyond the confines of diplomatic geography that its very existence -was questioned. Not so to the shrewd solicitor, admiral, auctioneer, -general conveyancer, and Jack-of-all-trades in one, who guided the -foreign policy of the United States. - -Unencumbered by the trappings of diplomatic tradition, he saw, vaguely -perhaps, but still with prescient knowledge, the empire which it was -possible to build in that western wild; and as every shifting scene in -the outside world’s politics called up some new occasion for boundary -rearrangement, or treaty rectification, he grasped eagerly at a fresh -foothold, an additional scrap of territory, in that land which was to -him an unborn empire, to us a half-begotten wilderness. Louisiana, -purchased from Napoleon for a trifle, became in his hands a region -larger than European Russia, and the vast water-shed of the Missouri -passed into the Empire of the United States. - -Cut off from the Mississippi, isolated from the Missouri, the unlucky -boundary traversed an arid waste until it terminated at the Rocky -Mountains. - -Long before a citizen of the United States had crossed the Missouri, -Canadian explorers had reached the Rocky Mountains and penetrated -through their fastnesses to the Pacific; and British and Canadian -fur traders had grown old in their forts across the Continent before -Lewis and Clark, the pioneers of American exploration, had passed -the Missouri. Discovered by a British sailor, explored by British -subjects, it might well have been supposed that the great region along -the Pacific slope, known to us as Oregon, belonged indisputably to -England; but at some new treaty “rectification,” the old story was once -more repeated, and the unlucky 49th parallel again selected to carry -across the Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, the same record of British -bungling and American astuteness which the Atlantic had witnessed sixty -years earlier on the rugged estuary of the St. Croix. - -For the present our business lies only with that portion of British -territory east of the Rocky Mountains, and between them, the Bay of -Hudson and the Arctic Ocean. - -From the base of the great range of the Rocky Mountains, the Continent -of British America slopes towards North and East, until, unbroken by -one mountain summit, but in a profound and lasting desolation, it dips -its shaggy arms and ice-bound capes into a sea as drear and desolate. - -Two great rivers, following of necessity this depression, shed their -waters into the Bay of Hudson. One is the Saskatchewan, of which -we have already spoken; the other, that river known by various -names--“English,” because the English traders first entered the country -by it; “Beaver,” from the numbers of that animal trapped along it in -olden time; “Churchill,” because a fort of that name stands at its -estuary; and “Missinipi,” or “much water,” by the wild races who dwell -upon it. The first river has a total length of 1700 miles; the last -runs its course through worthless forest and primeval rock for 1200 -miles. - -[Illustration: “OUR HUT AT THE FORKS OF THE SASKATCHEWAN”] - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - Our Winter Home.--A Welcome.--I start again.--The Hunter’s - Camp.--In quest of Buffalo on the Plains.--“Lodge-poling” - leads to Love. - - -At the foot of the high ridge which marks the junction of the two -Saskatchewans, deep in pines and poplars, through which vistas had -been cut to give glimpses along the converging rivers, stood the -winter hut of which I have already spoken. From its chimney blue smoke -curled up amongst the trees into the lower atmosphere, and the sound -of wood-cutting came ringing from below, a token of labour not yet -completed in our wild and secluded resting-place. - -I stood for a moment looking down on this scene--a home in the great -wilderness--and then a loud shout echoed into the valley to carry -tidings of our arrival to the inmates of the hut. In an instant it -was answered from below, and the solitudes rang with many a note of -welcome, while half a dozen dogs bayed furious defiance at my pack, -already become boisterously jubilant on the ridge above. When friends -meet thus, after long travel and separation, there are many questions -to ask and to answer, and the autumn evening had worn to midnight ere -the pine-log fire threw its light upon a silent hut. - -The winter season was now at hand; our house was nearly completed, our -stores put away, our dogs kennelled; but one most pressing want had yet -to be supplied--our winter stock of meat had to be gathered in, and -there was no time to lose about obtaining it. - -It was the last of October, just one day after my arrival at the Forks, -when we turned our faces westward in quest of buffalo. They were -said to be a long way off--200 miles nearer to the setting sun--out -somewhere on that great motionless ocean, where no tree, no bush breaks -the vast expanse of prairie; land to which the wild men of the West and -those who lead wild lives there have turned for many an age in search -of that food which nature once so generously scattered over the plains -of Central North America. - -Journeying slowly towards the west--for already the snow had begun to -fall in many storms, and the landscape had become wrapt in its winter -mantle--we reached in five days one of those curious assemblages of -half-breed hunters which are to be found in winter on the borders of -the great plains. - -Huts promiscuously crowded together; horses, dogs, women, children, -all intermixed in a confusion worthy of Donnybrook Fair; half-breed -hunters, ribboned, tasselled, and capôted, lazy, idle, and, if there is -any spirit in the camp, sure to be intoxicated; remnants and wrecks of -buffalo lying everywhere around; robes stretched and drying; meat piled -on stages; wolf-skins spread over framework; women drawing water and -carrying wood; and at dusk from the little hut the glow of firelight -through parchment windows, the sound of fiddle scraped with rough -hunter hand, and the quick thud of hunter heel as Louison, or Bâtiste, -or Gabriel foot it ceaselessly upon the half-hewn floors. - -Unquestionably these French half-breeds are wild birds--hunters, -drinkers, rovers, rascals if you will--yet generous and hospitable -withal; destined to disappear before the white man’s footprint, and ere -that time has come owing many of their vices to the pioneer American, -whose worst qualities the wild man, or semi-wild man, has been ever too -sure to imitate. - -After a delay of three days in this hunter’s camp, which by some -strange anomaly was denominated “la mission,” its sole claim to that -title being the residence of a French priest in the community, we -started on our journey further west. - -The winter had now regularly set in; the broad South Saskatchewan -was rolling thick masses of ice down its half-closed channel, the -snow-covering had deepened on the landscape, the wind blew keenly over -the prairie. Many of our horses had been too poor to take upon this -journey, and the half-breed whom I had brought from Red River, dreading -the exposure of the plains, had taken advantage of the hunter’s camp -to desert our service; so another man had been engaged, and, with -three fresh horses and an urchin attendant in the shape of a little -half-breed, designated by our new man as “l’homme capable,” and for -whose services he demanded only the moderate sum of five shillings per -diem, we held our course along the South Saskatchewan towards the Great -Prairie. - -Xavier Bâtoche was a fair sample of his class. The blood of four -nationalities mingled in his veins. His grandfather had been a -French Canadian, his grandmother a Crow squaw; English and Cree had -contributed to his descent on his mother’s side. The ceremony of -taking a wife in the early days of the north-west fur trade was not an -elaborate performance, or one much encumbered by social or religious -preliminaries. If it did not literally fulfil the condition of force -implied by the word “taking,” it usually developed into a question -of barter; a horse, a flint gun, some white cloth and beads, could -purchase the hand and heart of the fairest squaw in Prairie land. -If she did not love after one of these valuable “presents” had been -made to her father, the lodge-poles were always handy to enforce -that obedience necessary to domestic happiness--admirable idea, the -roof-tree contributed to the peace of the hearth-stone, and jealousy -fled before a “lodge-poling.” To return to Bâtoche; Crow and Cree, -French and English, had contrived to produce a genial, good-humoured, -handsome fellow; the previous year had been one of plenty, buffalo had -once more appeared in vast herds on the prairies of the Saskatchewan; -wolf-skins, robes, and pemmican had fetched high prices, and Bâtoche -was rich and prosperous. - -Two days’ journeying brought us to the edge of the great prairie; -silent, vast, and desolate it spread away into unseen space; the snow -but scantily covered the yellow grass, and the November wind sighed -mournfully through the wrecks of summer vegetation as it sped along its -thousand leagues of unmeasured meadow. At the last copse of poplar and -willow we halted for a day, to bake bread and cut wood sufficient for -a week’s food and fuel, and then we launched our ocean ships--horses -and sleds--out into the great meadow. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - An Ocean of Grass.--The Red Man.--Whence comes he?--The - Buffalo.--Puritans and Pioneers.--The Red Man’s Friend. - - -The general term “prairie” comprises many varieties of open landscape. -There are the level, alluvial prairies of Illinois, long since settled -and colonized; there are the low, fertile prairies of the Red River, -where the rich black mould, fallow under five months of snow, puts -forth the rank luxuriance of a hot-bed during the half tropic heat of -summer; there are the sandy prairies of the Assineboine and Qu’Appelle, -intermixed with clusters of aspen and of willow, and broken by lakes -and saline ponds: but above each and all--exceeding all other prairies -and open spaces--wild, treeless, and ocean-like in everything save -motion, there stands forth in dreary grandeur the Great Prairie. - -What the Irish Sea, the Channel, the Baltic, and the Mediterranean are -to the Atlantic, so are these various outlying regions of plain to the -vast rigid ocean of the central continent. It is true that on the Red -River, or the Qu’Appelle, or along the line I have lately passed, one -may frequently “get out of sight of land;” there are spaces where no -tree or bush breaks the long monotony of the sky-line; but all these -expanses are as nothing compared to the true prairie. - -The unending vision of sky and grass, the dim, distant, and -ever-shifting horizon; the ridges that seem to be rolled upon one -another in motionless torpor; the effect of sunrise and sunset, of -night narrowing the vision to nothing, and morning only expanding it to -a shapeless blank; the sigh and sough of a breeze that seems an echo in -unison with the solitude of which it is the sole voice; and, above all, -the sense of lonely, unending distance which comes to the _voyageur_ -when day after day has gone by, night has closed, and morning dawned -upon his onward progress under the same ever-moving horizon of grass -and sky. - -Only two wild creatures have made this grassy desert their home. - -Back, since ages at whose birth we can only guess, but which in all -human probability go deeper into the past than the reign of Arab in -Yemen, or Kirghis in Turkestan, the wild red man has roamed these -wastes: back into that dark night which hangs for ever over all we -know or shall know of early America. “The time before the white man -came,” what a measureless eternity lies hidden under the words! This -prairie was here when the stones of the pyramid were unhewn, and the -site of Babylon was a river meadow--here as it is to-day, treeless, -desolate, and storm-swept. But where and whence came the wild denizens -of the waste? Who shall say? Fifty writers have broached their various -theories, a hundred solutions have been offered. The missionary claims -them as the lost tribes of Israel, one ethnologist finds in them a -likeness to the Tartar, another sees the Celtic eye, another the Roman -nose, another traces them back to Japan, or China, or Australasia; -the old world is scarcely large enough to give them room for their -speculations. And what say we? Nothing; or if aught, a conjecture -perhaps more vague and shadowy than the rest. It has seemed to us when -watching this strange, wild hunter, this keen, untutored scholar of -nature, this human creature that sickens beneath our civilization, -and dies midst our prosperity--it has seemed to us that he was of a -race older and more remote than our own, a stock coeval with a shadowy -age--a remnant, perchance, of an earlier creation which has vanished -from the earth, preserved here in these wilds--a waif flung by the -surge of time to these later ages of our own. - -This New World is older than our old one. Its 30,000 feet in depth of -Arzoic rock tell us of an age when nought of living form moved over -the iron earth. And here, probably first of all, the molten sands -rose above the boiling floods, and cooled and crusted into a chaotic -continent. - -These are but idle speculations; still the antiquity of the Indian race -rests upon other foundations. Far to the south, where the prairies rise -into the lofty plateau of New Mexico, ruined monuments, weed-grown, and -hidden beneath ivy and trailing parasites, stand like spectres from -the tomb of time. Before these mouldering rock-hewn cities conjecture -halts; the past has drawn over them a veil that no research can pierce, -no learning solve. Inscrutable as the vestiges of an earlier earth they -stand, the lonely, ruined wrecks of the Red man’s race. - -So much for the earlier existence of the human dweller on the prairie; -to us he is but a savage--the impediment to our progress--the human -counterpart of forests which have to be felled, mountains which must be -tunnelled, rivers whose broad currents are things to conquer; he is an -obstacle, and he must be swept away. To us it matters not whether his -race dwelt here before a Celt had raised a Druid altar. The self-styled -heirs to all the centuries reck little of such things. - -And now let us turn for a moment to that other wild creature which has -made its dwelling on the Great Prairie. - -Over the grassy ocean of the west there has moved from time immemorial -a restless tide. Backwards and forwards, now north, now south--now -filling the dark gorges of the Rocky Mountains--now trailing into the -valleys of the Rio del Norte--now pouring down the wooded slopes of the -Saskatchewan, surged millions on millions of dusky bisons. - -What led them in their strange migrations no man could tell, but all -at once a mighty impulse seemed to seize the myriad herds, and they -moved over the broad realm which gave them birth as the waves of the -ocean roll before the storm. Nothing stopped them on their march; -great rivers stretched before them with steep, overhanging banks, and -beds treacherous with quicksand and shifting bar; huge chasms and -earth-rents, the work of subterraneous forces, crossed their line of -march, but still the countless thousands swept on. Through day and -night the earth trembled beneath their tramp, and the air was filled -with the deep bellowing of their unnumbered throats. - -Crowds of wolves and flocks of vultures dogged and hovered along their -way, for many a huge beast, half sunken in quicksand, caught amidst -whirling ice flow, or bruised and maimed at the foot of some steep -precipice, marked their line of march, like the wrecks lying spread -behind a routed army. Nearly two millions of square miles formed their -undivided domain; on three sides a forest boundary encircled it, on -the fourth a great mountain range loomed up against the western sky. -Through this enormous area countless creeks and rivers meandered -through the meadows, where the prairie grass grew thick and rank, -and the cotton woods spread their serpentine belts. Out in the vast -prairie the Missouri, the Platte, the Sweet Water, the Arkansas, the -South Saskatchewan, the Bighorn, the Yellowstone, rolled their volumes -towards the east, gathering a thousand affluents as they flowed. - -Countless ages passed, tribes warred and wandered, but the life of the -wilderness lay deep beneath the waves of time, and the roll of the -passing centuries disturbed not its slumber. - -At last the white man came, and soon from south and north the restless -adventurers of Latin Europe pierced the encircling forests, and beheld -the mighty meadows of the Central Continent. Spaniards on the south, -Frenchmen on the north, no one in the centre; for the prudent Plymouth -Puritan was more intent on flogging witches and gathering riches -than on penetrating the tangled forest which lay westward of his -settlement. No; his was not the work of adventure and discovery. Others -might go before and brave the thousand perils of flood and forest; he -would follow after, as the Jew pedlar follows the spendthrift, as the -sutler dogs the footsteps of the soldier. - -What though he be in possession of the wide dominion now, and the names -of France and Spain be shrunken into a shapeless dream; _that_ only -proves what we knew before, that the men who lead the way to a great -future are fated never to reap the golden harvest of their dreams. - -And ever since that advent of the white man the scene has changed; -the long slumber of the wilderness was broken, and hand in hand with -the new life death moved amidst the wild denizens of the Prairies. -Human life scattered over a vast area, animal life counted by tens -of millions, take a long time to destroy; and it is only to-day--370 -years after a Portuguese sailor killed and captured a band of harmless -Indians, and 350 since a Spanish soldier first beheld a herd of -buffaloes beyond the meadows of the Mississippi--that the long, -hopeless struggle of the wild dwellers of the wilderness may be said to -have reached its closing hour. - -In thus classing together the buffalo and the red man as twin dwellers -on the Great Prairie, I have but followed the Indian idea. - -“What shall we do?” said a young Sioux warrior to an American officer -on the Upper Missouri some fifteen years ago. “What shall we do? the -buffalo is our only friend. When he goes all is over with the Dacotahs. -I speak thus to you because like me you are a Brave.” - -It was little wonder that he called the buffalo his only friend. Its -skin gave him a house, its robe a blanket and a bed, its undressed hide -a boat, its short, curved horn a powder-flask, its meat his daily food, -its sinew a string for his bow, its leather a lariot for his horse, -a saddle, bridle, rein, and bit. Its tail formed an ornament for his -tent, its inner skin a book in which to sketch the brave deeds of his -life, the “medicine robe” of his history. House, boat, food, bed, and -covering, every want from infancy to age, and after life itself had -passed, wrapt in his buffalo robe the red man waited for the dawn. - -[Illustration: SUNSET SCENE WITH BUFFALO.] - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - Buffalo Hunts.--A Picture once seen, long remembered.--L’Homme - capable.--A wonderful Lake.--The lost Indian.--An - Apparition.--We return home. - - -It was mid-November before we reached the buffalo; the snow had -deepened, the cold had become intense, and our horses under the -influence of travel, cold, and exposure, had become miserably thin. -To hunt the herds on horseback would have been an impossibility; the -new-fallen snow hid the murderous badger holes that covered the prairie -surface, and to gallop weak horses over such ground must have been -certain disaster. - -Buffalo hunts on horseback or on foot have frequently been the theme -of travellers’ story. Ruxton and Palliser, and Mayne Reid and Catlin, -have filled many a page with glowing descriptions of charge and -counter-charge, stalk and stampede. Washington Irving has lighted with -his genius the dull records of western wanderings, and to sketch now -the pursuit of that huge beast (so soon to be an extinct giant) would -be to repeat a thrice-told tale. - -Who has not seen in pencil sketch or pen story the image of the huge, -shaggy beast careering madly before an eagle-feathered red man, whose -horse decked like its rider with the feathered trophy, launches himself -swiftly over the prairie? The full-drawn bow, the deadly arrow, the -stricken animal, the wild confusion of the flying herd, the wounded -giant turning to bay;--all these have been described a thousand times; -so also has the stalk, the stealthy approach under the wolf-skin -covering, the careful shot and the stupid stare of the startled animals -as they pause a moment to gather consciousness that this thing which -they deemed a wolf in the grass is in reality their most deadly enemy, -man. All these have found record from pen and pencil; but I much doubt -me if it be possible to place before a reader’s mental vision anything -like a true picture of the sense of solitude, of endless space, of -awful desolation which at times comes to the traveller’s mind as he -looks over some vast prairie and beholds a lonely herd of bisons -trailing slowly across that snow-wrapt, endless expanse, into the -shadows of the coming night. - -Such a sight I have beheld more than once, and its memory returns -at times with the sigh of the south wind, or the waving of a pine -branch. It is from moments such as these that the wanderer draws -the recompence of his toil, and reaps in after-time the harvest of -his hardship. No book has told the story, no picture has caught the -colouring of sky and plain, no sound can echo back the music of that -untainted breeze, sighing so mournfully through the yellow grass, but -all the same the vision returns without one effort of remembrance: -the vast plain snow-wrapt, the west ablaze with gold, and green, and -saffron, and colours never classed or catalogued, while the horizon -circle from north to east and south grows dim and indistinct, and, far -off, the bison herd in long, scattered file trails slowly across the -blue-white snow into the caverns of the sunset. - -We carried with us a leather tent of eight skins, small of its kind, -but capable of sheltering the five individuals comprising our party. -This tent, pitched in some hollow at sunset, formed the sole speck -of life amidst the vast solitude. Ten poles resting on the ground, -and locked together at the top, supported the leather covering. An -open space at the apex of the tent was supposed to allow the smoke -to escape, but the smoke usually seemed to consider itself under no -restraint whatever in the dim interior of our lodge, and seldom or -never took advantage of the means of freedom so liberally provided for -it. Our stock of fuel was very limited, and barely sufficed to boil -a kettle and fry a dish of pemmican at the opening or close of each -day. When the evening meal was finished, we sat awhile grouped around -the small fire in the centre. “L’homme capable” ran round our line of -traps, returning with a couple of kit foxes, the fattest of which he -skinned and roasted for his supper. Then we gathered the blankets close -together, and lying down slept until the dawn came struggling through -the open roof, and cold and hungry we sat again around the little fire. -Thus we journeyed on. - -Scattered over the wide prairie which lies between the South -Saskatchewan and the Eagle Hills roamed many herds of buffalo. But -their numbers were very far short of those immense herds which, until a -few years ago, were wont to cover the treeless regions of the west. Yet -they were numerous enough to make the onlooker marvel how they still -held their own against the ever-increasing odds arrayed against them. - -Around the wide circle of this prairie ocean lay scattered not less -than 15,000 wild people, all preying with wasteful vigour upon these -scattered herds; but the numbers killed for the consumption of these -Indian or half-Indian men formed but a small item in the lists of -slaughter. To the north and east the denizens of the remote parts of -the great regions locked in savage distance, the land of fur, the -land which stretches to the wintry shores of the Bay of Hudson, and -the storm-swept capes of the Arctic Ocean, looked for their means of -summer transport to these wandering herds in the, to them, far distant -Saskatchewan. What food was it that the tired _voyageur_ munched -so stolidly at nightfall by the camp fire on some long _portage_ -of the Winnipeg, the Nelson, or the Beaver Rivers, or ate with so -much relish ere the morning sun was glinting along the waves of far -Lake Athabasca; and his boat, rich laden with precious fur, rocked -on the secluded shore of some nameless bay? It was buffalo pemmican -from the Saskatchewan. And what food was it that these dozen hungry -dogs devoured with such haste by that lonely camp fire in the dark -pine forest, when all nature lay in its mid-winter torpor frozen to -the soul; when the pine-log flared upon some snow-sheeted lake, or -ice-bound river in the great wilderness of the north? It was the same -hard mixture of fat and dried buffalo-meat pounded down into a solid -mass which the Indians called “pemmican.” Small wonder then that the -great herds had dwindled down to their present numbers, and that now -the once wide domain of the buffalo had shrunken into the limits of the -great prairie. - -Yet, even still, the numbers annually killed seem quite incredible; -12,000 are said to fall to the Blackfeet tribes alone; in a single -hunt the French half-breeds, whose winter camp we had lately visited, -had killed 600 cows. The forts of the Hudson’s Bay Company were filled -with many thousand bags of pemmican, and to each bag two animals may -be counted; while not less than 30,000 robes had already found their -way to the Red River, and fully as many more in skins of parchment or -in leather had been traded or consumed in the thousand wants of savage -life; and all are ruthlessly killed--young and old, calves and cows, -it matters little; the Indian and the half-breed know no such quality -as forethought. Nor, looking at this annual havoc, and seeing still in -spite of all the dusky herds yet roaming over the treeless waste, can -we marvel that the Red man should ascribe to agencies other than mortal -the seemingly endless numbers of his favourite animal? - -South-west from the Eagle Hills, far out in the prairie, there lies a -lake whose waters never rest; day and night a ceaseless murmur breaks -the silence of the spot. - -“See,” says the red man, “it is from under that lake that our buffalo -comes. You say they are all gone; but look, they come again and again -to us. We cannot kill them all--they are there under that lake. Do you -hear the noise which never ceases? It is the buffalo fighting with -each other far down under the ground, and striving to get out upon the -prairie--where else can they come from?” - -We may well ask the question where can they come from? for in truth the -vast expanse of the great prairie seems too small to save them from -their relentless foes. - -The creek of the Eagle Hills winds through the prairie in long, lazy -bends. The beaver has made his home under its banks; and in some of the -serpentine bends the bastard maple lifts its gnarled trunk, and the -willow copses grow thickly. It is a favourite ground for the hunter in -summer; but now, in mid-November, no sign of man was visible, and we -had the little thicket oasis all to ourselves. - -It was in this spot, some two years ago, that the following event -occurred. In a band of Crees travelling over the plains there happened -to be a blind Indian. Following the band one day he lagged behind, and -the party dipping over a ridge on the prairie became lost to sound. -Becoming suddenly alarmed at having thus lost his friends, he began to -run swiftly in hope of overtaking them; but now his judgment was at -fault, and the direction of his run was the wrong one--he found himself -alone on the immense plains. Tired at last by the speed to which -feverish anxiety had urged him, he sat down to think over his chances. -It was hopeless to attempt to regain his party; he was far out in the -grassy ocean, and south, west, and east, lay hundreds of miles of -undulating plain; to the north many days’ journey, but still near, in -relative distance, lay the forts of the white man, and the trail which -led from one to the other. He would steer for the north, and would -endeavour to reach one of these forts. It was midsummer; he had no -food, but the carcases of lately-killed buffalo were, he knew, numerous -in that part of the prairie, and lakes or ponds were to be found at -intervals. - -He set out, and for three days he journeyed north. “How did he steer?” -the reader will ask; “for have you not told us the man was blind?” -Nevertheless, he steered with accuracy towards the north. From sunrise -he kept the warm glow on his naked right shoulder; six hours later the -heat fell full upon his back; towards evening the rays were on his -left side; and when the sun had gone, and the damp dew began to fall, -he lay down for the night: thus he held a tolerably correct course. At -times the soft mud of a lake shore cloyed his feet; but that promised -water, and after a drink he resumed his way; the lakelet was rounded -and the course pursued. There was no food; for two days he travelled -on patiently, until at last he stumbled over the bones of a buffalo. -He felt around; it had been killed some time, and the wolves had left -scant pickings on ribs or legs, but on the massive head the skin was -yet untouched, and his knife enabled him to satisfy his hunger, and to -carry away a few scraps of skin and flesh. - -Thus recruited he pressed on. It was drawing towards evening on the -fifth day of his weary journey when he found himself reduced to -starvation, weak from protracted hunger and faint from thirst; the day -had been a warm one, and no friendly lake had given him drink. His -scanty food had been long exhausted, and there seemed but little hope -that he could live to feel the warm sun again. Its rays were growing -faint upon his left shoulder, when his feet suddenly sank into soft -mud, and the reeds and flags of a swamp brushed against his legs: -here was water, he lay down and drank a long, long draught. Then he -bethought him, Was it not better to stay here while life lasted? here -he had at least water, and of all the pangs that can afflict the lost -wanderer that of thirst is the hardest to bear. He lay down midst the -reeds, determined to wait for death. - -Some few miles distant to the north-east lay the creek of the Eagle -Hills. That evening a party of hunters from the distant fort of À -la Corne, had appeared on the wide prairies which surrounded this -creek; they were in search of buffalo, it wanted an hour of sunset. -The man in charge looked at the sinking sun, and he bethought him of -a camping-place. “Go to such and such a bend of the creek,” he said -to his hunters, “unyoke the horses and make the camp. I will ride to -yonder hill and take a look over the plains for buffalo; I will rejoin -you at the camp.” - -The party separated, and their leader pushed on to the hill-top for -a better survey of the plains. When he reached the summit of the -ridge he cast a look on every side; no buffalo were to be seen, but -to his surprise, his men, instead of obeying his orders as to the -route, appeared to be steering in a different direction from the one -he had indicated, and were already far away to the south. When he -again overtook them they were in the act of camping on the borders of -a swampy lake, a long way from the place he had intended; they had -mistaken the track, they said, and seeing water here had camped at -sunset. - -It was not a good place, and the officer felt annoyed at their -stupidity. While they spoke together thus, a figure suddenly rose -from the reeds at the further side of the lake, and called loudly -for assistance. For a moment the hunters were amazed at this sudden -apparition; they were somewhat startled too, for the Blackfeet bands -were said to be on the war-trail. But presently they saw that there -was only a solitary stranger, and that he was blind and helpless: it -was the lost Cree. He had long before heard the hunters’ approach, -but not less deadly was the fear of Blackfeet than the dread of death -by starvation. Both meant _death_; but one meant scalping, therefore -dishonour in addition. It was only when the welcome sounds of the Cree -language fell on his ear that he could reveal his presence in the -reed-fringed lake. - -I have told this story at length just as I heard it from the man who -had been in charge of the party of hunters, because it brings home to -the mind of the outsider, not only the power of endurance which the -Indian displays in the face of physical difficulties, but also the -state of society produced by the never-ending wars among the Indian -tribes. Of the mistake which caused the hunters to alter their course -and pitch their camp in another direction than that intended by their -leader I have nothing to say; chance is a strange _leader_ people say. -Tables are said to be turned by unseen powers seemingly like the stars -in the song, “because they’ve nothing else to do;” but for my part I -had rather believe that men’s footsteps are turned south instead of -west under other Guidance than that of chance, when that change of -direction, heedless though it be, saves some lost wanderer who has lain -down to die. - -It was the 3rd of December, when with thin and tired horses, we -returned to the Forks of the Saskatchewan. We found our house wholly -completed; on the stage in front safe from dogs and wolves the produce -of the hunt was piled, the weary horses were turned loose on the ridge -above, and with a few books on a shelf over a rude but comfortable bed, -I prepared to pass the next two months of winter. - -It was full time to reach home; the snow lay deep upon the ground; the -cold, which had set in unusually early, had even in mid-November fallen -to thirty degrees below zero, and some of our last buffalo stalks had -been made under a temperature in which frozen fingers usually followed -the handling, with unmittened hands, of rifle stock or gun trigger. - -Those who in summer or autumn visit the great prairie of the -Saskatchewan can form but a faint idea of its winter fierceness and -utter desolation. They are prone to paint the scene as wanting only -the settler’s hut, the yoke of oxen, the waggon, to become at once -the paradise of the husbandman. They little know of what they -speak. Should they really wish to form a true conception of life in -these solitudes, let them go out towards the close of November into -the treeless waste; _then_, midst fierce storm and biting cold, and -snow-drift so dense that earth and heaven seem wrapped together in -indistinguishable chaos, they will witness a sight as different from -their summer ideal as a mid-Atlantic mid-winter storm varies from a -tranquil moonlight on the Ægean Sea. - -[Illustration: TENT IN THE GREAT PRAIRIE.] - -During the sixteen days in which we traversed the prairie on our return -journey, we had not seen one soul, one human being moving over it; the -picture of its desolation was complete. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - Strange Visitors.--At-tistighat the Philosopher.--Indian - Converts.--A Domestic Scene.--The Winter Packet.--Adam - and his Dogs. - - -December passed away, the new year came, the cold became more intense. -The snow deepened and the broad rivers lay hushed under their sparkling -covering; wide roadways for our dog sleighs. At times there came a -day of beautiful clearness, the sun shone brightly, the sky was of -the deepest blue, and the earth sparkled in its spotless covering. At -night the moon hung over the snow-wrapt river and silent pines with -the brilliancy of a fairy scene; but many a day and night of storm and -bitter tempest passed, and not unfrequently the thermometer placed -against the hut wall marked full 70 degrees of frost. - -Towards the end of the year four of our horses died, from the depth -and hardness of the snow. The others would have soon followed if left -to find their own sustenance, but a timely removal to the Fort à la -Corne, twenty miles lower down the river, saved them. - -When the year was drawing to its close two Indians pitched their -lodge on the opposite side of the North River, and finding our stage -pretty well stocked with food they began to starve immediately. In -other words, it was easier to come to us for buffalo meat than to hunt -deer for themselves: at all hours of the day they were with us, and -frequently the whole family, two men, two squaws, and three children, -would form a doleful procession to our hut for food. An Indian never -knocks at a door; he lifts the latch, enters quietly, shakes hands with -every one, and seats himself, without a word, upon the floor. You may -be at breakfast, at dinner, or in bed, it doesn’t matter. If food be -not offered to him, he will wait until the meal is finished, and then -say that he has not eaten for so many hours, as the case may be. Our -stock of food was not over sufficient, but it was impossible to refuse -it to them even though they would not hunt for themselves; and when -the three children were paraded--all pretty little things from four to -seven years of age--the argument of course became irresistible. - -It was useless to tell them that the winter was long, that no more -buffalo could be obtained; they seemed to regard starvation as an -ordinary event to be calculated upon, that as long as any food was -to be obtained it was to be eaten at all times, and that when it was -gone--well then the best thing was to do without it. - -January drew to a close in very violent storms accompanied by great -cold. Early one morning “At-tistighat,” or as we called him Bourgout -No. 1, arrived with news that his brother had gone away two days -before, that he had no blanket, no food; and that, as it had not -been his intention to stay out, he concluded that he had perished. -“At-tistighat” was a great scoundrel, but nevertheless, as the night -had been one of terrible storm, we felt anxious for the safety of his -brother, who was really a good Indian. “Go,” we said to him, “look for -your brother; here is pemmican to feed you during your search.” He took -the food, but coolly asserted that in all probability his brother had -shot himself, and that consequently there was no use whatever in going -to look for him; “or,” he said, “he is dead of cold, in which case it -is useless to find him.” - -While he spoke a footstep outside announced an arrival, the door -opened, and the lost Bourgout No. 2 entered, bearing on his back a -heavy load of venison. - -At-tistighat’s line of argument was quite in keeping with the Indian -character, and was laughable in its selfish logic. If the man was -alive, he would find his own way home; if dead, there was nothing -more to be done in the matter: but in any case pemmican was not to be -despised. - -But despite their habits of begging, and their frequently unseasonable -visits, our Cree neighbours afforded us not a little food for amusement -in the long winter evenings. Indian character is worth the study, -if we will only take the trouble to divest ourselves of the notion -that all men should be like ourselves. There is so much of simplicity -and cunning, so much of close reasoning and child-like suspicion; -so much natural quickness, sense of humour, credulousness, power of -observation, faith and fun and selfishness, mixed up together in the -Red man’s mental composition; that the person who will find nothing in -Indian character worth studying will be likely to start from a base of -nullity in his own brain system. - -In nearly all the dealings of the white man with the red, except -perhaps in those of the fur trade, as conducted by the great fur -companies, the mistake of judging and treating Indians by European -standards has been made. From the earliest ages of American discovery, -down to the present moment, this error has been manifest; and it is -this error which has rendered the whole missionary labour, the vast -machinery set on foot by the charity and benevolence of the various -religious bodies during so many centuries, a practical failure to-day. - -When that Christian King Francis the First commissioned Cartier to -convert the Indians, they were described in the royal edict as “men -without knowledge of God, or use of reason;” and as the speediest mode -of giving them one, and bringing them to the other, the Quebec chief -savage was at once kidnapped, carried to France, baptized, and within -six months was a dead man. We may wonder if his wild subjects had -imbibed sufficient “reason” during the absence of the ship to realize -during the following season the truth of what they were doubtless told, -that it was better to be a dead Christian than a live savage; but no -doubt, under the circumstances, they might be excused if they “didn’t -quite see it.” Those who would imagine that the case of Menberton could -not now occur in missionary enterprise are deceived. - -Menberton, who is said to have been a devout Christian in the early -days of Acadie, was duly instructed in the Lord’s Prayer; at a certain -portion of the prayer he was wont to append a request that “fish and -moose meat” might also be added to his daily bread. And previous to -his death, which occurred many years after his conversion, he is said -to have stoutly demanded that the savage rites of sepulture should be -bestowed upon his body, in order that he might be well prepared to make -vigorous war upon his enemies in the next world. This is of the past; -yet it is not many years since a high dignitary of the Church was not a -little horrified by a request made by some recently converted Dog-Rib -Chiefs that the rite of Baptism should be bestowed upon three flaming -red flannel shirts, of which they had for the first time in their lives -become the joint possessors. - -But all this is too long to enter upon here; enough that to me at -least the Indian character is worth the trouble of close examination. -If those, whose dealings religious and political with the red man are -numerous, would only take a leaf from Goldsmith’s experience when he -first essayed to become a teacher of English in France, (“for I found,” -he writes, “that it was necessary I should previously learn French -before I could teach them English,”) very much of the ill success which -had attended labours projected by benevolence, and prosecuted with zeal -and devotion, might perhaps be avoided. - -Long before ever a white man touched the American shore a misty idea -floated through the red man’s brain that from far-off lands a stranger -would come as the messenger of peace and plenty, where both were so -frequently unknown. In Florida, in Norembega, in Canada, the right hand -of fellowship was the _first_ proffered to the new comer; and when -Cartier entered the palisaded village where now the stately capital -of Canada spreads out along the base of the steep ridge, which he -named Royal after that master whose “honour” had long been lost ere on -Pavia’s field he yielded up all else, the dusky denizens of Hochelaga -brought forth their sick and stricken comrades “as though a God had -come among them.” - -Three centuries and a half have passed since then; war, pestilence and -famine have followed the white man’s track. Whole tribes have vanished -even in name from the continent, yet still that strange tradition of -a white stranger, kind and beneficent, has outlived the unnumbered -cruelties of ages; and to-day the starving camp and the shivering -bivouac hears again the hopeful yet hopeless story of “a good time -coming.” - -Besides our Indians we were favoured with but few visitors, silence -reigned around our residence; a magpie or a whisky-jack sometimes -hopped or chattered about our meat stage; in the morning the -sharp-tailed grouse croaked in birch or spruce tree, and at dusk, when -every other sound was hushed, the small grey owl hooted his lonely -cry. Pleasant was it at night when returning after a long day on -snow shoes, or a dog trip to the nearest fort, to reach the crest -of the steep ridge that surrounded our valley, and see below the -firelight gleaming through the little window of our hut, and the red -sparks flying upward from the chimney like fire-flies amidst the dark -pine-trees; nor was it less pleasant when as the night wore on the home -letter was penned, or the book read, while the pine-log fire burnt -brightly and the dogs slept stretched before it, and the light glared -on rifle-barrel or axe-head and showed the skin-hung rafters of our -lonely home. - -As January drew towards a close, it became necessary to make -preparations for a long journey. Hitherto I had limited my wanderings -to the prairie region of the Saskatchewan, but these wanderings had -only been a preliminary to further travel into the great northern wilds. - -To pierce the forest region lying north of the Saskatchewan valley, to -see the great lakes of the Athabasca and that vast extent of country -which pours its waters into the Frozen Ocean, had long been my desire; -and when four months earlier I had left the banks of the Red River and -turned away from the last limit of civilization, it was with the hope -that ere the winter snow had passed from plain and forest my wanderings -would have led me at least 2000 miles into that vast wilderness of the -north. - -But many preparations had to be made against cold and distance. Dogs -had to be fattened, leather clothing got ready, harness and sleds -looked to, baggage reduced to the very smallest limit, and some one -found willing to engage to drive the second dog sled, and to face the -vicissitudes of the long northern road. The distance itself was enough -to make a man hesitate ere for hire he embarked on such a journey. -The first great stage was 750 miles, the second was as many more, and -when 1500 miles had been traversed there still must remain half as -much again before, on the river systems of the North Pacific, we could -emerge into semi-civilized ways of travel. - -Many were the routes which my brain sketched out during the months of -autumn, but finally my choice rested between two rivers, the Mackenzie -rolling its waters into the Frozen Ocean, the Peace River piercing the -great defiles of the Rocky Mountains through the cañons and stupendous -gorges of Northern British Columbia. A chance meeting decided my course. - -One day at the end of October I had camped during a snow-storm for -dinner in the Touchwood Hills. Suddenly through the drift a horseman -came in sight. He proved to be an officer of the Hudson’s Bay Company -from the distant post of Dunvegan on the Peace River: of all men he -was the one I most wished to see. Ninety days earlier he had left his -station; it was far away, but still with dogs over the ice of frozen -rivers and lakes, through the snow of long leagues of forest and muskey -and prairie, I might hope to reach that post on Upper Peace River in -sixty days; twenty days more might carry me through the defiles of the -Rocky Mountains to waters which flow south into the Pacific. “Good-bye, -_bon voyage_,” and we went our different ways; he towards Red River, I -for Athabasca and the Peace River. - -And now, as I have said, the end of January had come, and it was -time to start; all my preparations were completed, Cerf-vola and his -companions were fat, strong, and hearty. Dog shoes, copper kettles, -a buffalo robe, a thermometer, some three or four dozen rounds of -ammunition, a little tobacco and pain-killer, a dial compass, a -pedometer, snow shoes, about fifteen pounds of baggage, tea, sugar, -a little flour, and lastly, the inevitable pemmican; all were put -together, and I only waited the arrival of the winter packet from the -south to set out. - -Let me see if I can convey to the reader’s mind a notion of this winter -packet. - -Towards the middle of the month of December there is unusual bustle -in the office of the Hudson’s Bay Company at Fort Garry on the Red -River; the winter packet is being made ready. Two oblong boxes are -filled with letters and papers addressed to nine different districts -of the northern continent. The limited term district is a singularly -unappropriate one: a single instance will suffice. From the post of the -Forks of the Athabasca and Clear Water Rivers to the Rocky Mountain -Portage is fully 900 miles as a man can travel, yet all that distance -lies within the limits of the single Athabasca district; and there are -others larger still. From the Fort Resolution on the Slave River to the -ramparts on the Upper Yukon, 1100 miles lay their lengths within the -limits of the Mackenzie River district. - -Just as the days are at their shortest, a dog sled bearing the winter -packet starts from Fort Garry; a man walks behind it, another man some -distance in advance of the dogs. It holds its way down the Red River -to Lake Winnipeg; in about nine days’ travel it crosses that lake to -the north shore at Norway House; from thence, lessened of its packet of -letters for the Bay of Hudson and the distant Churchill, it journeys in -twenty days’ travel up the Great Saskatchewan River to Carlton House. -Here it undergoes a complete readjustment; the Saskatchewan and Lesser -Slave Lake letters are detached from it, and about the 1st of February -it starts on its long journey to the north. - -During the succeeding months it holds steadily along its northern way, -sending off at long, long intervals branch dog packets to right and -left; finally, just as the sunshine of mid-May is beginning to carry a -faint whisper of the coming spring to the valleys of the Upper Yukon, -the dog train, last of many, drags the packet, now but a tiny bundle, -into the enclosure of La Pierre’s House. It has travelled nearly 3000 -miles; a score of different dog teams have hauled it, and it has camped -for more than a hundred nights in the great northern forest. - -The end of January had come, but contrary to the experience of several -years had brought no packet from Fort Garry, and many were the surmises -afloat as to the cause of this delay. The old Swampy Indian Adam who, -for more than a score of years had driven the dog packet, had tumbled -into a water-hole in the ice, and his dogs had literally exemplified -one portion of the popular saying of following their leader through -fire and water; and the packet, Adam, and the dogs, lay at the bottom -of the Saskatchewan River. Such was one anticipated cause of this -non-appearance. - -To many persons the delay was very vexatious, but to me it was -something more. Time was a precious article: it is true a northern -winter is a long one, but so also was the route I was about to follow, -and I hoped to reach the upper regions of the Rocky Mountains while -winter yet held with icy grasp the waters of the Peace River Cañon. - -The beginning of February came, and I could wait no longer for the -missing packet. On the 3rd, at mid-day, I set out on my journey. The -day was bright and beautiful, the dogs climbed defiantly the steep -high point, and we paused a moment on the summit; beneath lay hut and -pine wood and precipitous bank, all sparkling with snow and sunshine; -and beyond, standing motionless and silent, rose the Great Sub-Arctic -Forest. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - A _tale_ of warfare.--Dog-sleds.--A missing link.--The North - Sea.--“Winterers.”--Samuel Hearne. - - -During the three months which had elapsed since his arrival at -the Forks, Cerf-vola had led an idle life; he had led his train -occasionally to Fort à la Corne, or hauled a light sled along the ice -of the frozen rivers, but these were only desultory trips, and his days -had usually passed in peace and plenty. - -Perhaps I am wrong in saying peace, for the introduction of several -strange dogs had occasioned much warfare, and although he had -invariably managed to come off victorious, victory was not obtained -without some loss. I have before remarked that he possessed a very -large bushy tail. In time of war this appendage was carried prominently -over his back, something after the manner of the plumes upon casque of -knight in olden times, or the more modern helmet of dragoon in the era -of the Peninsular War. - -One day, while he was engaged in a desperate struggle with a bumptious -new-comer, a large ill-conditioned mongrel which had already been -vanquished, seeing his victor fully occupied, deemed it an auspicious -moment for revenge, and springing upon the bushy tail proceeded to -attack it with might and main. The unusual noise brought me to the door -in time to separate the combatants while yet the tail was intact, but -so unlooked for had been the assault that it was found upon examination -to be considerably injured. With the aid of a needle and thread it was -repaired as best we could, Cerf-vola apparently understanding what -the surgical operation meant, for although he indulged in plenty of -uproar at every stitch no attempt at biting was made by him. He was now -however sound in body and in tail, and he tugged away at his load in -blissful ignorance that 1500 miles of labour lay before him. - -I know not if my readers are acquainted with the manner in which dogs -are used as draught animals in the great fur regions of the north. A -dog sled is simply two thin oak or birch-wood boards lashed together -with deer-skin thongs: turned up in front like a Norwegian snow shoe, -it runs when light over hard snow or ice with great ease; its length -is about nine feet, its breadth sixteen inches. Along its outer edges -runs a leather lashing, through the loops of which a long leather line -is passed, to hold in its place whatever may be placed upon it. From -the front, close to the turned portion, the traces for draught are -attached. The dogs, usually four in number, stand in tandem fashion, -one before the other, the best dog generally being placed in front, as -“foregoer,” the next best in rear as “steer-dog.” It is the business -of the foregoer to keep the track, however faint it may be on lake or -river. The steer-dog guides the sled, and prevents it from striking or -catching in tree or root. An ordinary load for four dogs weighs from 2 -to 400 lbs.; laden with 200 lbs. dogs will travel on anything like a -good track, or on hard snow, about thirty or thirty-five miles in each -day. In deep or soft snow the pace is of necessity slow, and twenty to -twenty-five miles will form a fair day’s work. - -If any one should ask what length of time dogs will thus travel day -after day, I refer them to the following chapters, wherein the fortunes -of Cerf-vola and his brethren, starting out to-day on a long journey, -are duly set forth. - -Some few miles west of the mission station called Prince Albert I -parted from my friend Captain M----, who thus far had accompanied me. -He was to return to Red River and Canada, _viá_ Cumberland and the -lakes; I to hold my way across the frozen continent to the Pacific. -For many months each day would place a double day’s distance between -us, but we still looked forward to another meeting, even though between -us and that prospect there lay the breadth of all the savage continent. - -A couple of days later I reached the Hudson’s Bay Company’s fort of -Carlton, the great rendezvous of the winter packets between north and -south. From north and west several of the leading agents of the fur -company had assembled at Carlton to await the coming of the packet -bearing news from the outer world. From Fort Simpson on the far -Mackenzie, from Fort Chipewyan on the lonely lake Athabasca, from -Edmonton on the Upper Saskatchewan, from Isle à la Crosse, dogs had -drawn the masters of these remote establishments to the central station -on the middle Saskatchewan. But they waited in vain for the arrival of -the packet; with singular punctuality had their various trains arrived -within a few days of each other from starting-points 2000 miles apart; -yet after a few days’ detention these officers felt anxious to set out -once more on their journey, and many a time the hill-side on which the -packet must first appear was scanned by watchers, and all the boasted -second sight and conjuring power of haggard squaw and medicine man was -set at work to discover the whereabouts of the “missing link” between -the realms of civilization and savagery. To me the delay, except for -the exigencies of time and distance, was not irksome. I was in the -society of gentlemen whose lives had been passed in all portions of -the great north, on the frozen shores of Hudson’s Bay, in the mountain -fastnesses of the Chipewyan range, or midst the savage solitudes that -lie where, in long, low-lying capes, and ice-piled promontories, the -shore of America stretches out to meet the waves of the Northern Ocean. - -There was one present who in the past seven months had travelled by -horse and canoe, boat and dog train, full 4000 miles; and another, -destined to be my close companion during many weeks, whose matchless -determination and power of endurance had carried him in a single winter -from the Lower Mackenzie River to the banks of the Mississippi. - -Here, while we await the winter packet, let me sketch with hasty and -imperfect touch the lives of those who, as the “winterers” of the great -Company of Adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay, have made their homes -in the wilderness. - -Two hundred and sixty-two years ago, a French adventurer under the -banner of Samuel de Champlain wintered with an Indian tribe on the -shores of the Upper Ottawa. In the ensuing spring he returned to -Montreal, recounted his adventures, and became the hero of an hour. -Beyond the country of the Ottawas he described a vast region, and from -the uttermost sources of the Ottawa a large river ran towards the north -until it ended in the North Sea. He had been there he said, and on the -shore lay the ribs of an English vessel wrecked, and the skeletons of -English sailors who had been drowned or murdered. His story was a false -one, and ere a year had passed he confessed his duplicity; he had not -been near the North Sea, nor had he seen aught that he described. - -Yet was there even more than a germ of truth in his tale of wreck and -disaster, for just one year earlier in this same North Sea, a brave -English sailor had been set adrift in an open boat, with half a dozen -faithful seamen; and of all the dark mysteries of the merciless ocean, -no mystery lies wrapt in deeper shadow than that which hangs over the -fate of Hudson. - -But the seventeenth century was not an age when wreck or ruin could -daunt the spirit of discovery. Here in this lonely North Sea, the palm -of adventure belonged not to France alone. Spain might overrun the -rich regions of the tropics, Richelieu (prototype of the great German -chancellor of to-day) might plant the _fleur-de-lis_ along the mighty -St. Lawrence, but the north--the frozen north--must be the land of -English enterprise and English daring. The years that followed the -casting away of the fearless Hudson saw strange vessels coasting the -misty shores of that weird sea; at first, to seek through its bergs -and ice floes, its dreary cloud-wrapt fiords and inlets, a passage to -the land where ceaseless sunshine glinted on the spice-scented shores -of fabulous Cathay; and later on, to trade with the savages who clad -themselves in skins, which the fairest favourites of Whitehall or -the Louvre (by a strange extreme wherein savagery joined hands with -civilization) would be proud to wrap round their snowy shoulders. - -Prosecuted at first by desultory and chance adventurers, this trade in -furs soon took definite form and became a branch of commerce. On the -lonely sea-shores wooden buildings rose along the estuaries of rivers -flowing from an unknown land. These were honoured by the title of fort -or factory, and then the ships sailed back to England ere the autumn -ice had closed upon the waters; while behind in Rupert’s Fort, York -Factory, Churchill, or Albany (names which tell the political history -of their day), stayed the agents, or “winterers,” whose work it was to -face for a long season of hardship, famine, and disease, a climate so -rigorous that not unfrequently, when the returning vessel rose upon -the distant sea line, scarce half the eyes that had seen her vanish -were there to watch her return. And they had other foes to contend -with. Over the height of land, away by the great lakes, and along the -forest shores of the St. Lawrence, the adventurers of another nation -had long been busy at the mingled work of conquest and traffic. The -rival Sultans of France and England could, midst the more pressing -cares of their respective harems, find time occasionally to scribble -“Henri” or “Charles” at the foot of a parchment scroll which gave a -continent to a company; it little mattered whether Spaniard, Frenchman, -or Briton had first bestowed the gift, the rival claimants might fight -for the possession as they pleased. The geography of this New World was -uncertain, and where Florida ended or Canada began was not matter of -much consequence. But the great cardinal, like the great chancellor, -was not likely to err in the matter of boundaries. “If there should be -any doubt about the parts, we can take the whole,” was probably as good -a maxim then as now; and accordingly we find at one sweep the whole -northern continent, from Florida to the Arctic Circle, handed over to a -company of which the priest-soldier was the moving spirit. - -Thus began the long strife between France and England in North -America,--a strife which only ended under the walls of Quebec. The -story of their bravery, their endurance, their constancy, their -heroism, has been woven into deathless history by a master-hand.[1] -To France belongs the glory of the Great West--not the less her glory -because the sun has set for ever upon her empire. Nothing remains -to her. Promontory or lonely isle, name of sea-washed cape, or -silent lake, half mistily tells of her former dominion. In the deep -recesses of some north-western lake or river-reach the echoes still -waken to the notes of some old French _chanson_, as the half Indian -_voyageur_, ignorant of all save the sound, dips his glistening paddle -to the cadence of his song. But of all that Cartier and Champlain, De -Monts, La Salle, Marquette, Frontenac, and Montcalm lived and died -for--nothing more remains. - - [1] Francis Parkman. - -Poor France! In the New World and in the Old history owes thee much. -Yet in both hast thou paid the full measure of thy people’s wrong. - -But to return. The seventeenth century had not closed ere the sea -of Hudson became the theatre of strife, the wooden palisades of the -factories were battered or burnt down; and one fine day in August, -1697, a loud cannonade boomed over the sullen waters, and before the -long summer twilight had closed, the “Hampshire,” with her fifty-two -guns on high poop or lofty forecastle, lay deep beneath the icy sea, -her consorts the Frenchman’s prize. Nor had she gone down before a foe -more powerful, but to the single frigate of Le Moyne d’Iberville, a -child of Old and New France, the boldest rover that e’er went forth -upon the Northern Seas. Some fifteen years later France resigned her -claim to these sterile shores. Blenheim, Ramilies, Oudenarde, and -Malplaquet had given to England the sole possession of the frozen north. - -And now for nigh seventy years the English Company pursued unmolested -its trade along the coast. A strong fort, not of wood and lath and -stockade, but of hard English brick and native granite hewn by English -hands, rose near the estuary of the Churchill River. To this fort the -natives came annually along the English river bearing skins gathered -far inland, along the shores of the Lake of the Hills, and the borders -of the great river of the north. - -With these natives wandered back an Englishman named Samuel Hearne; he -reached the Lake Athabasca, and on all sides he heard of large rivers, -some coming from south and west, others flowing to the remotest north. -He wandered on from tribe to tribe, reacted a great lake, descended a -great river to the north, and saw at last the Arctic Sea. - -Slowly did the Fur Company establish itself in the interior. It was -easier to let the natives bring down the rich furs to the coast than -to seek them in these friendless regions. But at last a subtle rival -appeared on the scene; the story of the North-West Fur Company has -often been told, and in another place we have painted the effects -of that conflict; here it is enough to say that when in 1822 the -north-west became merged into the older corporation, posts or forts had -been scattered throughout the entire continent, and that henceforth -from Oregon to Ungava, from Mingan to the Mackenzie, the countless -tribes knew but one lord and master, the Company of Adventurers from -England trading into Hudson’s Bay. - -What in the meantime was the work of those wintering agents whose homes -were made in the wilderness? God knows their lives were hard. They -came generally from the remote isles or highlands of Scotland, they -left home young, and the mind tires when it thinks upon the remoteness -of many of their fur stations. Dreary and monotonous beyond words was -their home life, and hardship was its rule. To travel on foot 1000 -miles in winter’s darkest time, to live upon the coarsest food, to see -nought of bread or sugar for long months, to lie down at night under -the freezing branches, to feel cold such as Englishmen in England -cannot even comprehend, often to starve, always to dwell in exile -from the great world. Such was the routine of their lives. The names -of these northern posts tell the story of their toil. “Resolution,” -“Providence,” “Good Hope,” “Enterprise,” “Reliance,” “Confidence;” such -were the titles given to these little forts on the distant Mackenzie, -or the desolate shores of the great Slave Lake. Who can tell what -memories of early days in the far away Scottish isles, or Highland -glen, must have come to these men as the tempest swept the stunted -pine-forest, and wrack and drift hurled across the frozen lake--when -the dawn and the dusk, separated by only a few hours’ daylight, closed -into the long, dark night. Perchance the savage scene was lost in a -dreamy vision of some lonely Scottish loch, some Druid mound in far -away Lewis, some vista of a fireside, when storm howled and waves ran -high upon the beach of Stornoway. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - A dog of no character.--The Green Lake.--Lac Ile à la - Crosse.--A cold day.--Fort Ile à la Crosse.--A long-lost - brother.--Lost upon the Lake.--Unwelcome neighbours.--Mr. - Roderick Macfarlane.--A beautiful morning.--Marble features. - - -On the night of the 11th of February, under a brilliant moonlight, we -quitted Fort Carlton; crossing the Saskatchewan, we climbed the steep -northern bank, and paused a moment to look back. The moon was at its -full, not a cloud slept in the vast blue vault of heaven, a great -planet burned in the western sky; the river lay beneath in spotless -lustre; shore and prairie, ridge and lowland, sparkled in the sheen -of snow and moonlight. Then I sprung upon my sled, and followed the -others, for the music of their dog-bells was already getting faint. - -The two following days saw us journeying on through a rich and fertile -land. Clumps of poplar interspersed with pine, dotted the undulating -surface of the country. Lakes were numerous, and the yellow grass -along their margins still showed above the deep snow. - -Six trains of dogs, twenty-three dogs in all, made a goodly show; the -northern ones all beaded, belled, and ribboned, were mostly large -powerful animals. Cree, French, and English names were curiously -intermixed, and as varied were the tongues used to urge the trains to -fresh exertions. Sometimes a dog would be abused, vilified, and cursed, -in French alone; at others, he would be implored, in Cree, to put forth -greater efforts. “Kuskey-tay-o-atim-moos,” or the little “black dog” -would be appealed to, “for the love of Heaven to haul his traces.” -He would be solemnly informed that he was a dog of no character; -that he was the child of very disreputable parents; that, in fact, -his mother had been no better than she should have been. Generally -speaking, this information did not appear to have much effect upon -Kuskey-tay-o-atim-moos, who was doubtless well satisfied if the abuse -hurled at him and his progenitors exhausted the ire of his driver, and -saved his back at the expense of his relations. - -Four days of rapid travelling carried us far to the north. Early on -the third day of travel the open country, with its lakelets and poplar -ridges, was left behind, and the forest region entered upon for the -first time. - -Day had not yet dawned when we quitted a deserted hut which had given -us shelter for the night; a succession of steep hills rose before us, -and when the highest had been gained, the dawn had broken upon the dull -grey landscape. Before us the great Sub-Arctic Forest stretched away to -the north, a line of lakes, its rampart of defence against the wasting -fires of the prairie region, lay beneath. This was the southern limit -of that vast forest whose northern extreme must be sought where the -waters of the Mackenzie mingle with the waves of the Arctic Sea. - -We entered this forest, and in four days reached the southern end of -the Green Lake, a long narrow sheet of water of great depth. The dogs -went briskly over the hard snow on the surface of the ice-covered lake, -and ere sun set on the 15th of February we were housed in the little -Hudson’s Bay post, near the northern extremity of the lake. We had run -about 150 miles in four days. - -A little more than midway between Carlton and Green Lake, the traveller -crosses the height of land between the Saskatchewan and Beaver Rivers; -its elevation is about 1700 feet above the sea level, but the rise -on either side is barely perceptible, and between the wooded hills, -a network of lakes linked together by swamps and muskegs spreads in -every direction. These lakes abound with the finest fish; the woods -are fairly stocked with fur-bearing animals, and the country is in many -respects fitted to be made the scene of Indian settlement, upon a plan -not yet attempted by American or Canadian governments in their dealings -with the red man. - -On the morning of the 17th February we quitted the Green Lake, and -continued on our northern way. Early on the day of departure we struck -the Beaver or Upper Churchill river, and followed its winding course -for some forty miles. The shores were well wooded with white spruce, -juniper, and birch; the banks, some ten or twenty feet above the -surface of the ice, sloped easily back; while at every ten or fifteen -miles smaller streams sought the main river, and at each accession the -bed of the channel nearly doubled in width. - -Hitherto I have not spoken of the cold; the snow lay deep upon the -ground, but so far the days had been fine, and the nights, though -of course cold, were by no means excessively so. The morning of the -19th February found us camped on a pine ridge, between lakes, about -fifteen miles south of Lac Ile à la Crosse, by the spot where an ox -had perished of starvation during the previous autumn, his bones now -furnishing a night-long repast for our hungry dogs. The night had been -very cold, and despite of blanket or buffalo robe it was impossible -to remain long asleep. It may seem strange to those who live in warm -houses, who sleep in cosy rooms from which the draught is carefully -excluded, and to whom the notion of seeking one’s rest on the ground, -under a pine-tree in mid-winter, would appear eminently suicidal; it -may seem strange, I say, how in a climate where cold is measured by -degrees as much _below_ the freezing point as the hottest shade heat of -Carnatic or Scindian summer is known to be _above_ it, that men should -be able at the close of a hard day’s march to lie down to rest under -the open heavens. Yet so it is. - -When the light begins to fade over the frozen solitude, and the first -melancholy hoot of the night owl is heard, the traveller in the north -looks around him for “a good camping-place.” In the forest country -he has not long to seek for it; a few dead trees for fuel, a level -space for his fire and his blanket, some green young pines to give him -“brush” for his bed, and all his requirements are supplied. The camp -is soon made, the fire lighted, the kettle filled with snow and set to -boil, the supper finished, dogs fed, and the blankets spread out over -the pine brush. It is scarcely necessary to say that there is not much -time lost in the operation of undressing; under the circumstances one -is more likely to reverse the process, and literally (not figuratively -as in the case of modern society, preparing for her ball) to _dress_ -for the night. Then begins the cold; it has been bitterly cold all day, -with darkness; the wind has lulled, and the frost has come out of the -cold, grey sky with still, silent rigour. If you have a thermometer -placed in the snow at your head the spirit will have shrunken back -into the twenties and thirties below zero; and just when the dawn is -stealing over the eastern pine tops it will not unfrequently be into -the forties. Well then, that is cold if you like! You are tired by a -thirty-mile march on snow shoes. You have lain down with stiffened -limbs and blistered feet, and sleep comes to you by the mere force -of your fatigue; but never goes the consciousness of the cold from -your waking brain; and as you lie with crossed arms and up-gathered -knees beneath your buffalo robe, you welcome as a benefactor any -short-haired, shivering dog who may be forced from his lair in the snow -to seek a few hours’ sleep upon the outside of your blankets. - -Yet do not imagine, reader, that all this is next to an impossibility, -that men will perish under many nights of it. Men do not perish thus -easily. Nay even, when before dawn the fire has been set alight, and -the tea swallowed hot and strong, the whole thing is nigh forgotten, -not unfrequently forgotten in the anticipations of a cold still more -trying in the day’s journey which is before you. - -Such was the case now. We had slept coldly, and ere daylight the -thermometer showed 32 degrees below zero. A strong wind swept through -the fir-trees from the north; at daylight the wind lulled, but every -one seemed to anticipate a bad day, and leather coats and capôtes were -all in use. - -We set off at six o’clock. For a time calmness reigned, but at sunrise -the north wind sprang up again, and the cold soon became more than one -could bear. Before mid-day we reached the southern end of Lac Ile à la -Crosse; before us to the north lay nearly thirty miles of shelterless -lake, and down this great stretch of ice the wind came with merciless -severity. - -We made a fire, drank a great deal of hot tea, muffled up as best we -could, and put out into the lake. All that day I had been ill, and with -no little difficulty had managed to keep up with the party. I do not -think that I had, in the experience of many bitter days of travel, ever -felt such cold; but I attributed this to illness more than to the day’s -severity. - -We held on; right in our teeth blew the bitter blast, the dogs with -low-bent heads tugged steadily onward, the half-breeds and Indians -wrapped their blankets round their heads, and bending forward as they -ran made their way against the wind. To run was instantly to freeze -one’s face; to lie on the sled was to chill through the body to the -very marrow. It was impossible to face it long, and again we put in to -shore, made a fire, and boiled some tea. - -At mid-day the sun shone, and the thermometer stood at 26° below zero; -the sun was utterly powerless to make itself felt in the slightest -degree; a drift of dry snow flew before the bitter wind. Was this -really great cold? I often asked myself. I had not long to wait for -an answer. My two fellow-travellers were perhaps of all men in those -regions best able to settle a question of cold. One had spent nigh -thirty years in many parts of the Continent; the other had dwelt for -years within the Arctic Circle, and had travelled the shores of the -Arctic Ocean at a time when the Esquimaux keep close within their -greasy snow huts. Both were renowned travellers in a land where bad -travellers were unknown: the testimony of such men was conclusive, and -for years they had not known so cold a day. - -“I doubt if I have ever felt greater cold than this, even on the -Anderson or the Mackenzie,” said the man who was so well acquainted -with winter hardship. After that I did not care so much; if _they_ felt -it cold, if their cheeks grew white and hard in the bitter blast, -surely I could afford to freeze half my face and all my fingers to boot. - -Yet at the time it was no laughing matter; to look forward to an hour -seemed an infinity of pain. One rubbed and rubbed away at solid nose -and white cheek, but that only added one’s fingers to the list of iced -things one had to carry. - -At last the sun began to decline to the west, the wind fell with it, -the thick, low-tying drift disappeared, and it was possible by running -hard to restore the circulation. With dusk came a magnificent Aurora; -the sheeted light quivered over the frozen lake like fleecy clouds -of many colours blown across the stars. Night had long closed when -we reached the warm shelter of the shore, and saw the welcome lights -of houses in the gloom. Dogs barked, bolts rattled, men and children -issued from the snow-covered huts; and at the door of his house stood -my kind fellow-traveller, the chief factor of the district, waiting to -welcome me to his fort of Ile à la Crosse. - -The fort of Ile à la Crosse is a solitary spot. Behind it spreads a -land of worthless forest, a region abounding in swamps and muskegs, in -front the long arms of the Cruciform Lake. It is not from its shape -that the lake bears its name; in the centre, where the four long arms -meet, stands an island, on the open shore of which the Indians in -bygone times were wont to play their favourite game of la Crosse. The -game named the island, and the island in turn gave its name to the -lake. The Beaver River enters the lake at the south-east, and leaves it -again on the north-west side. The elevation of the lake above the level -of Hudson’s Bay cannot be less than 1300 feet, so it is little wonder -if the wild winds of the north should have full sweep across its frozen -surface. The lake is well stocked with excellent white fish, and by the -produce of the net the garrison of the fort is kept wholly in food, -about 130 large fish being daily consumed in it. - -At a short distance from the fort stands the French Mission. One of -the earliest established in the north, it has thrown out many branches -into more remote solitudes. Four ladies of the order of Grey Nuns have -made their home here, and their school already contains some thirty -children. If one wants to see what can be made of a very limited space, -one should visit this convent at Ile à la Crosse; the entire building -is a small wooden structure, yet school, dormitory, oratory, kitchen, -and dining-room are all contained therein. - -The sisters seemed happy and contented, chatted gaily of the outside -world, or of their far-away homes in Lower Canada. Their present house -was only a temporary erection. In one fell night fire had destroyed a -larger building, and consumed their library, oratory, everything; and -now its ravages were being slowly repaired. Of course it was an event -to be long remembered, and the lady who described to us the calamity -seemed still to feel the terror of the moment. - -My long journey left me no time for delay, and after one day’s rest it -became necessary to resume the march. The morning of the 21st February -found us again in motion. - -We now numbered some five sleds; the officer in charge of the Athabasca -district, the next to the north, was still to be my fellow-traveller -for nearly 400 miles to his post of Fort Chipewyan. All dogs save -mine were fresh ones, but Cerf-vola showed not one sign of fatigue, -and Spanker was still strong and hearty. Pony was, however, betraying -every indication of giving out, and had long proved himself an arrant -scoundrel. - -Dogs were scarce in the North this year. A distemper had swept over all -the forts, and many a trusty hauler had gone to the land where harness -is unknown. - -Here, at Ile à la Crosse, I obtained an eighth dog. This dog was Major; -he was an Esquimaux from Deer’s Lake, the birth-place of Cerf-vola, and -he bore a very strong resemblance to my leader. It is not unlikely that -they were closely related, perhaps brothers, who had thus, after many -wanderings, come together; but, be that as it may, Cerf-vola treated -his long-lost brother with evident suspicion, and continued to maintain -towards all outsiders a dogged demeanour. - -Major’s resemblance to the Untiring led to a grievous error on the -morning of my departure from the fort. - -It was two hours before daylight when the dogs were put into harness; -it was a morning of bitter cold; a faint old moon hung in the east; -over the dim lake, a shadowy Aurora flickered across the stars; it was -as wild and cheerless a sight as eye of mortal could look upon; and the -work of getting the poor unwilling dogs into their harness was done by -the Indians and half-breeds in no amiable mood. - -In the haste and darkness the Untiring was placed last in the train -which he had so long led, the new-comer, Major, getting the foremost -place. Upon my assuming charge of the train, an ominous tendency to -growl and fight on the part of my steer-dog told me something was -wrong; it was too dark to see plainly, but a touch of the Untiring’s -nose told me that the right dog was in the wrong place. - -The mistake was quickly rectified, but, nevertheless, I fear its memory -long rankled in the mind of Cerf-vola, for all that day, and for some -days after, he never missed an opportunity of counter-marching suddenly -in his harness and prostrating the unoffending Major at his post of -steer-dog; the attack was generally made with so much suddenness and -vigour that Major instantly capitulated, “turning a turtle” in his -traces. This unlooked-for assault was usually accompanied by a flank -movement on the part of Spanker, who, whenever there was anything in -the shape of fighting lying around, was sure to have a tooth in it on -his own account, being never very particular as to whether he attacked -the head of the rear dog or the tail of his friend in front. - -All this led at times to fearful confusion in my train; they jumped on -one another; they tangled traces, and back-bands, and collar-straps -into sad knots and interlacings, which baffled my poor frozen fingers -to unravel. Often have I seen them in a huge ball rolling over each -other in the snow, while the rapid application of my whip only appeared -to make matters worse, conveying the idea to Spanker or the Untiring -that they were being badly bitten by an unknown belligerent. - -Like the lady in Tennyson’s “Princess,” they “mouthed and mumbled” each -other in a very perplexing manner, but, of course, from a cause totally -at variance from that which influenced the matron in the poem. These -events only occurred, however, when a new dog was added to the train; -and, after a day or so, things got smoothed down, and all tugged at the -moose-skin collars in peaceful unanimity. - -But to return. We started from Ile à la Crosse, and held our way over -a chain of lakes and rivers. Rivière Cruise was passed, Lac Clair lay -at sun-down far stretching to our right into the blue cold north, and -when dusk had come, we were halted for the night in a lonely Indian hut -which stood on the shores of the Detroit, fully forty miles from our -starting-place of the morning. - -“A long, hard, cold day; storm, drift, and desolation. We are lost upon -the lake.” - -Such is the entry which meets my eye as I turn to the page of a scanty -note-book which records the 22nd of February; and now looking back -upon this day, it does not seem to me that the entry exaggerates in -its pithy summing up the misery of the day’s travel. To recount the -events of each day’s journey, to give minutely, starting-point, date, -distance, and resting-place, is too frequently an error into which -travellers are wont to fall. I have read somewhere in a review of a -work on African travel, that no literary skill has hitherto been able -to enliven the description of how the traveller left a village of -dirty negroes in the morning, and struggled through swamps all day, -and crossed a river swarming with hippopotami, and approached a wood -where there were elephants, and finally got to another village of dirty -negroes in the evening. The reviewer is right; the reiterated recital -of Arctic cold and hardship, or of African heat and misery, must be as -wearisome to the reader as its realization was painful to the writer; -but the traveller has one advantage over the reader, the reality of -the “storm, drift, and desolation” had the excitement of the very pain -which they produced. To be lost in a haze of blinding snow, to have a -spur of icy keenness urging one to fresh exertion, to seek with dazed -eyes hour after hour for a faint print of snow shoes or mocassin on the -solid surface of a large lake, to see the night approaching and to urge -the dogs with whip and voice to fresh exertions, to greater efforts to -gain some distant land-point ere night has wrapped the dreary scene in -darkness; all this doled out hour by hour in narrative would be dull -indeed. - -To me the chief excitement lay in the question, Will this trail lead to -aught? Will we save daylight to the shore? But to the reader the fact -is already patent that the trail did lead to something, and that the -night did not find the travellers still lost on the frozen lake. - -Neither could the reader enter into the joy with which, after such a -day of toil and hardships, the traveller sees in the gloom the haven -he has sought so long; it may be only a rude cabin with windows cut -from the snow-drift or the moose-skin, it may be only a camp-fire in -a pine clump, but nevertheless the lost wanderer hails with a feeling -of intense joy the gleam which tells him of a resting-place; and as he -stretches his weary limbs on the hut floor or the pine-bush, he laughs -and jests over the misfortunes, fatigues, and fears, which but a short -hour before were heartsickening enough. - -It was with feelings such as this that I beheld the lights of Rivière -la Loche station on the night of the 22nd of February; for, through -an afternoon of intense cold and blinding drift, we had struggled in -vain to keep the track across the Buffalo Lake. The guide had vanished -in the drift, and it was only through the exertions of my companion -after hours of toil that we were able to regain the track, and reach, -late on Saturday evening, the warm shelter of the little post; a -small, clean room, a bright fire, a good supper, an entire twenty-four -hours of sleep, and rest in prospect. Is it any wonder that with such -surroundings the hut at Rivière la Loche seemed a palace? - -And now each succeeding day carried us further into the great -wilderness of the north, over lakes whose dim shores loomed through the -driving snow, and the ragged pines tossed wildly in the wind; through -marsh and muskeg and tangled wood, and all the long monotony of dreary -savagery which lies on that dim ridge, from whose sides the waters roll -east to the Bay of Hudson, north to the Frozen Ocean. - -We reached the Methy Portage, and turned north-west through a long -region of worthless forest. Now and again a wood Cariboo crossed the -track; a marten showed upon a frozen lake; but no other sign of life -was visible. The whole earth seemed to sleep in savage desolation; the -snow lay deep upon the ground, and slowly we plodded on. - -To rise at half-past two o’clock a.m., start at four, and plod on -until sunset, halting twice for an hour during the day, this was the -history of each day’s toil. Yet, with this long day of work, we could -only travel about twenty-five miles. In front, along the track, went a -young Chipewyan Indian; then came a train of dogs floundering deep in -the soft snow; then the other trains wound along upon firmer footing. -Camp-making in the evening in this deep snow was tedious work. It -was hard, too, to hunt up the various dogs in the small hours of the -morning, from their lairs in snow-drift or beneath root of tree; but -some dogs kept uncomfortably close to camp, and I well remember waking -one night out of a deep sleep, to find two huge beasts tearing each -other to pieces on the top of the buffalo bag in which I lay. - -After three days of wearisome labour on this summit ridge of the -northern continent we reached the edge of a deep glen, 700 feet below -the plateau. At the bottom of this valley a small river ran in many -curves between high-wooded shores. The sleds bounded rapidly down the -steep descent, dogs and loads rolling frequently in a confused heap -together. Night had fallen when we gained the lower valley, and made -a camp in the darkness near the winding river; the height of land was -passed, and the river in the glen was the Clearwater of the Athabasca. - -I have before spoken of the life of hardship to which the wintering -agents of the Hudson’s Bay Company are habituated, nor was I without -some practical knowledge of the subject to which I have alluded. I had -now, however, full opportunity of judging the measure of toil contained -in the simple encomium one often utters in the north. “He is a good -traveller.” - -Few men have led, even in the hard regions of the north, a life of -greater toil than Mr. Roderick Macfarlane. He had left his island home -when almost a boy, and in earliest manhood had entered the remote -wilds of the Mackenzie River. For seventeen years he had remained cut -off from the outer world; yet his mind had never permitted itself to -sink amidst the oppressive solitudes by which he was surrounded: it -rose rather to the level of the vastness and grandeur which Nature -wears even in her extreme of desolation. - -He entered with vigour into the life of toil before him. By no means -of a strong constitution or frame of body, he nevertheless fought his -way to hardiness; midst cold and darkness and scant living, the natural -accompaniments of remote travel, he traversed the country between -the Peel, Mackenzie, and Liard rivers, and pushed his explorations -to the hitherto unknown River Anderson. Here, on the borders of the -Barren Ground, and far within the Arctic Circle, he founded the most -northern and remote of all the trading stations of the Fur Company. In -mid-winter he visited the shores of the Frozen Ocean, and dwelt with -the Esquimaux along the desolate coasts of that bay which bears the -name of England’s most hapless explorer. - -Nor was it all a land of desolation to him. Directed by a mind as -sanguine as his own,[2] he entered warmly into the pursuits of natural -history, and classed and catalogued the numerous birds which seek in -summer these friendless regions, proving in some instances the range of -several of the tiniest of the feathered wanderers to reach from Texas -to the Arctic shores. - - [2] The late Major Kennicot, U.S.A., who, in charge of the - United States telegraph exploration, died at Fort Yukon, - Alaska. - -All his travels were performed on snow shoes, driving his train of -dogs, or beating the track for them in the snow. In a single winter, -as I have before mentioned, he passed from the Mackenzie River to -the Mississippi, driving the same train of dogs to Fort Garry, -fully 2000 miles from his starting-point; and it was early in the -following summer, on his return from England after a hasty visit, -the first during twenty years, that I made his acquaintance in the -American State of Minnesota. He was not only acquainted with all the -vicissitudes of northern travel, but his mind was well stored with -the history of previous exploration. Chance and the energy of the old -North-West Company had accumulated a large store of valuable books in -the principal fort on the Mackenzie. These had been carefully studied -during periods of inaction, and arctic exploration in reality or in -narrative was equally familiar to him. - -“I would have given my right arm to have been allowed to go on one -of these search expeditions,” he often said to me; and perhaps, if -those wise and sapient men, who, acting in a corporate or individual -capacity, have the power of selection for the work of relief or -exploration, would only accustom themselves to make choice of such -materials, the bones that now dot the sands of King William’s Land -or the estuary of the Great Fish River, might in the flesh yet move -amongst us. - -One night we were camped on a solitary island in the Swan Lake. The -camp had been made after sunset, and as the morning’s path lay across -the lake, over hard snow where no track was necessary, it was our -intention to start on our way long before daybreak. In this matter of -early starting it is almost always impossible to rely on the Indian -or the half-breed _voyageur_. They will lie close hid beneath their -blankets, unless, indeed, the cold should become so intense as to force -them to arise and light a fire; but, generally speaking, they will lie -huddled so closely together that they can defy the elements, and it -becomes no easy matter to arouse them from their pretended slumbers at -two or three o’clock of a dead-cold morning. My companion, however, -seemed to be able to live without sleep. At two o’clock he would arise -from his deer-skin robe and set the camp astir. I generally got an -hour’s law until the fire was fairly agoing and the tea-kettle had been -boiled. - -No matter what the morning was, he never complained. This morning on -Swan Lake was bitterly cold--30° below zero at my head. - -“Beautiful morning!” he exclaimed, as I emerged from my buffalo robe at -three o’clock; and he really meant it. I was not to be done. - -“Oh, delightful!” I managed to chatter forth, with a tolerable degree -of acquiescence in my voice, a few mental reservations and many bodily -ones all over me. - -But 30° below zero, unaccompanied by wind, is not so bad after all when -one is fairly under weigh and has rubbed one’s nose for a time, and -struck the huge “mittained” hands violently together, and run a mile or -so; but let the faintest possible breath of wind arise--a “zephyr” the -poets would call it, a thing just strong enough to turn smoke or twist -the feather which a wild duck might detach from beneath his wing as he -cleft the air above--then look out, or rather look down, cast the eye -so much askant that it can catch a glimpse of the top of the nose, and -you will see a ghostly sight. - -We have all heard of hard hearts, and stony eyes, and marble foreheads, -alabaster shoulders, snowy necks, and firm-set lips, and all the long -array of silicious similitudes used to express the various qualities of -the human form divine; but firmer, and colder, and whiter, and harder -than all stands forth prominently a frozen nose. - -A study of frozen noses would be interesting; one could work out from -it an essay on the admirable fitness of things, and even history read -by the light of frozen noses might teach us new theories. The Roman -nose could not have stood an arctic winter, hence the limits of the -Roman empire. The Esquimaux nose is admirably fitted for the climate in -which it breathes, hence the limited nature it assumes. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - The Clearwater.--A bygone Ocean.--A Land of Lakes.--The - Athabasca River.--Who is he?--Chipewyan Indians.-- - Echo.--Major succumbs at last.--Mal de Raquette. - - -The Clearwater, a river small in a land where rivers are often a mile -in width, meanders between its lofty wooded hills; or rather one should -say, meanders in the deep valley which it has worn for itself through -countless ages. - -Ever since the beginning of the fur trade it has been the sole route -followed into the North. More practicable routes undoubtedly exist, but -hitherto the Long Portage (a ridge dividing the waters of the chain of -lakes and rivers we have lately passed from those streams which seek -the Arctic Ocean) and the Clearwater River have formed as it were the -gateway of the North. - -This Long Portage, under its various names of La Loche and Methy, is -not a bad position from whence to take a bird’s-eye view of the Great -North. - -Once upon a time, how long ago one is afraid to say, a great sea rolled -over what is now the central continent. From the Gulf of Mexico to -the Arctic Ocean, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the base of the -Rocky Mountains, this ocean has left its trace. It had its shores, and -to-day these shores still show the trace of where the restless waves -threw their surge upon the earlier earth. To the eye of the geologist -the sea-shell, high cast upon some mountain ridge, tells its story of -the sea as plainly as the tropic sea-shell, held to the dreamer’s ear, -whispers its low melody of sounding billow. - -To the east of this ocean the old earth reared its iron head in those -grim masses which we name Laurentian, and which, as though conscious of -their hoary age, seem to laugh at the labour of the new comer, man. - -The waters went down, or the earth went up, it little matters which; -and the river systems of the continent worked their ways into Mother -Ocean: the Mississippi south, the St. Lawrence east, the Mackenzie -north. But the old Laurentian still remained, and to-day, grim, filled -with wild lakes, pine-clad, rugged, almost impassable it lies, spread -in savage sleep from Labrador to the Arctic Ocean. - -At the Methy Portage we are on the western boundary of this Laurentian -rock; from here it runs south-east to Canada, north to the Frozen Ocean. - -It is of the region lying between this primary formation and the Rocky -Mountains, the region once an ocean, of which we would speak. - -I have said in an earlier chapter that the continent of British -America, from the United States’ boundary, slopes to the north-east, -the eastern slope terminates at this Portage la Loche, and henceforth -the only slope is to the north; from here to the Frozen Sea, one -thousand miles, as wild swan flies, is one long and gradual descent. -Three rivers carry the waters of this slope into the Arctic Ocean; -the great Fish River of Sir George Back, at the estuary of which the -last of Franklin’s gallant crew lay down to die; the Coppermine of -Samuel Hearne; and the Mackenzie which tells its discoverer’s name. The -first two flow through the Barren Grounds, the last drains by numerous -tributaries, seventeen hundred miles of the Rocky Mountains upon both -sides of that snow-capped range. All its principal feeders rise beyond -the mountains, cutting through the range at right angles, through -tremendous valleys, the sides of which overhang the gloomy waters. - -The Liard, the Peel, the Peace rivers, all have their sources to -the west of the Rocky Mountains. Even the parent rill of the Great -Athabasca is on the Pacific side also. Nor is this mountain, thus -curiously rent in twain by large rivers, a mere ridge, or lofty -table-land; but huge and vast, capped by eternal snow, it lifts its -peaks full fifteen thousand feet above the sea level. - -Many large lakes lie spread over this ancient sea bottom; Lake -Athabasca, Great Slave, and Great Bear Lake continue across the -continent, that great Lacustrine line, which, with Winnipeg, Superior, -Huron, and Ontario, forms an aggregate of water surface half as large -as Europe. - -Of other lakes, the country is simply a vast network, beyond all -attempt at name or number; of every size, from a hundred yards to a -hundred miles in length, they lie midst prairie, or midst forest, -lonely and silent, scarce known even to the wild man’s ken. - -And now, having thus imperfectly tried to bring to the reader’s mind a -vision of this vast North, let us descend from the height of land into -the deep valley of the Clearwater, and like it, hurry onward to the -Athabasca. - -Descending the many-curving Clearwater for one day, we reached, on the -last day of February, its junction with the Athabasca, a spot known as -the Forks of the Athabasca. The aspect of the country had undergone a -complete change; the dwarf and ragged forest had given place to lofty -trees, and the white spruce from a trunk of eight feet in circumference -lifted its head fully one hundred and fifty feet above the ground. Nor -was it only the aspect of the trees that might have induced one to -imagine himself in a land of plenty. In the small fort at the Forks, -luxuries unseen during many a day met the eye; choice vegetables, the -produce of the garden; moose venison, and better than all, the tender -steak of the wood buffalo, an animal now growing rare in the North. - -There was salmon too, and pears and peaches; but these latter luxuries -I need hardly say were not home produce; they came from the opposite -extremes of Quebec and California. Here, then, in the midst of the -wilderness was a veritable Eden. Here was a place to cry Halt, to build -a hut, and pass the remainder of one’s life. No more dog-driving, no -more snow shoes, no smoky camp, no aching feet, no call in midnight; -nothing but endless wood buffalo steaks, fried onions, moose moofle, -parsnips, fresh butter, rest and sleep: alas! it might not be; nine -hundred miles yet lay between me and the Rocky Mountains; nine hundred -miles had still to be travelled, ere the snow had left bare the brown -banks of the Peace River. - -And now our course led straight to the north, down the broad bed of the -Athabasca. A river high shored, and many islanded, with long reaches, -leagues in length, and lower banks thick wooded with large forest trees. - -From bank to bank fully six hundred yards of snow lay spread over -the rough frozen surface; and at times, where the prairie plateau -approached the river’s edge, black bitumen oozed out of the clayey -bank, and the scent of tar was strong upon the frosty air. - -On Sunday, the 2nd of March, we remained for the day in a wood of large -pines and poplars. Dogs and men enjoyed that day’s rest. Many were -footsore, some were sick, all were tired. - -“The Bheel is a black man, and much more hairy; he carries archers -in his hand, with these he shoots you when he meets you; he throws -your body into a ditch: by this you will know the Bheel.” Such, word -for word, was the written reply of a young Hindoo at an examination -of candidates for a Government Office in Bombay a few years ago. The -examiners had asked for a description of the hill-tribe known as -Bheels, and this was the answer. It is not on record what number of -marks the youthful Brahmin received for the information thus lucidly -conveyed, or whether the examiners were desirous of making further -acquaintance with the Bheel, upon the terms indicated in the concluding -sentence; but, for some reason or other, the first sight of a veritable -Chipewyan Indian brought to my mind the foregoing outline of the Bheel, -and I found myself insensibly repeating, “The Chipewyan is a red man, -and much more hairy.” There I stopped, for he did not carry archers in -his hand, nor proceed in the somewhat abrupt and discourteous manner -which characterized the conduct of the Bheel. And here, perhaps, it -will be necessary to say a few words about the wild man who dwells in -this Northern Land. - -A great deal has been said and written about the wild man of America. -The white man during many years has lectured upon him, written learned -essays upon him, phrenologically proved him this, chronologically -demonstrated him that, ethnologically asserted him to be the tother! -I am not sure that the conchologists even have not thrown a shell at -him, and most clearly shown that he was a conglomerate of this, that, -and tother all combined. They began to dissect him very early. One -Hugh Grotius had much to say about him a long time ago. Another Jean -de Leut also descanted upon him, and so far back as the year of grace -1650, one Thorogood (what a glimpse the date gives of the name and the -name of the date!) composed a godly treatise entitled “Jews in America, -or a probability that Americans are of that race.” Perhaps, if good -Master Thorogood was in the flesh to-day he might, arguing from certain -little dealings in boundary cases, consequential claims and so forth, -prove incontestably that modern American statesmen were of that race -too. But to proceed. This question of the red man’s origin has not yet -been solved; the doctors are still disputing about him. One professor -has gotten hold of a skull delved from the presumed site of ancient -Atazlan, and by the most careful measurements of the said skull has -proceeded to show that because one skull measures in circumference the -hundredth and seventy-seventh decimal of an inch more than it ought, it -must of necessity be of the blackamoor type of headpiece. - -Another equally learned professor, possessed of another equally curious -skull (of course on shelf not on shoulders), has unfortunately come to -conclusions directly opposite, and incontestably proven from careful -occipital measurements that the type is Mongolian. - -While thus the doctors differ as to what he is, or who he is, or whence -he came, the farce of theory changes to the stern tragedy of fact; -and over the broad prairie, and upon the cloud-capped mountain, and -northwards in the gloomy pine-forest, the red man withers and dies out -before our gaze: soon they will have nothing but the skulls to lecture -upon. - -From the Long Portage which we have but lately crossed, to the barren -shores where dwell the Esquimaux of the coasts, a family of cognate -tribes inhabit the continent; from east to west the limits of this -race are even more extensive. They are found at Churchill, on Hudson’s -Bay, and at Fort Simpson, on the rugged coast of New Caledonia. But -stranger still, far down in Arizona and Mexico, even as far south -as Nicaragua, the guttural language of the Chipewyan race is still -heard, and the wild Navajo and fierce Apache horseman of the Mexican -plains are kindred races with the distant fur-hunters of the North. Of -all the many ramifications of Indian race, this is perhaps the most -extraordinary. Through what vicissitudes of war and time, an offshoot -from the shores of Athabasca wandered down into Mexico, while a hundred -fierce, foreign, warlike tribes occupied the immense intervening -distance, is more than human conjecture can determine. - -To the east of the Rocky Mountains these races call themselves -“Tinneh,” a name which signifies “People,” with that sublimity of -ignorance which makes most savage people imagine themselves the sole -proprietors of the earth. Many subdivisions exist among them; these -are the Copper Indians, and the Dog Ribs of the Barren Grounds; the -Loucheux or Kutchins, a fierce tribe on the Upper Yukon; the Yellow -Knives, Hares, Nehanies, Sickanies, and Dahas of the Mountains and the -Mackenzie River; the Slaves of the Great Slave Lake; the Chipewyans of -Lake Athabasca, and Portage la Loche, the Beavers of the Peace River. - -West of the Rocky Mountains, the Carriers, still a branch of the -Chipewyan stock, intermingle with the numerous Atnah races of the -coast. On the North Saskatchewan, a small wild tribe called the -Surcees also springs from this great family, and as we have already -said, nearly three thousand miles far down in the tropic plains of Old -Mexico, the harsh, stuttering “tch” accent grates upon the ear. Spread -over such a vast extent of country it may be supposed they vary much -in physiognomy. Bravery in men and beauty in women are said to go hand -in hand. Of the courage of the Chipewyan men I shall say nothing; of -the beauty of the women I shall say something. To assert that they are -very plain would not be true; they are undeniably ugly. Some of the -young ones are very fat; all of the old ones are very thin. Many of the -faces are pear-shaped; narrow foreheads, wide cheeks, small deep-set -_fat_ eyes. The type is said to be Mongolian, and if so, the Mongolians -should change their type as soon as possible. - -Several of the men wear sickly-looking moustaches, and short, pointed -chin tufts; the hair, coarse and matted, is worn long. The children -look like rolls of fat, half melted on the outside. Their general -employment seems to be eating moose meat, when they are not engaged in -deriving nourishment from the maternal bosom. - -This last occupation is protracted to an advanced age of childhood, -a circumstance which probably arises from the fact that the new-born -infant receives no nourishment from its mother for four days after its -birth, in order that it shall in after life be able to stand the pangs -of hunger; but the infant mind is no doubt conscious itself that it is -being robbed of its just rights, and endeavours to make up for lost -time by this postponement of the age of weaning. - -This description does not hold good of the Beaver Indians of Peace -River; many of them, men and women, are good-looking enough, but of -them more anon. - -All these tribes are excellent hunters. The moose in the south and -wooded country, the reindeer in the barren lands, ducks and geese in -vast numbers during the summer, and, generally speaking, inexhaustible -fish in the lakes yield them their means of living. At times, one -prodigious feast; again, a period of starvation. - -For a time living on moose nose, or buffalo tongue, or daintiest -tit-bit of lake and forest; and then glad to get a scrap of dry meat, -or a putrid fish to satisfy the cravings of their hunger. While the -meat lasts, life is a long dinner. The child just able to crawl is seen -with one hand holding the end of a piece of meat, the other end of -which is held between the teeth; while the right hand wields a knife a -foot in length, with which it saws steadily, between lips and fingers, -until the mouthful is detached. How the nose escapes amputation is a -mystery I have never heard explained. - -A few tents of Chipewyans were pitched along the shores of the -Athabasca River, when we descended that stream. They had long been -expecting the return of my companion, to whose arrival they looked as -the means of supplying them with percussion gun-caps, that article -having been almost exhausted among them. - -Knowing the hours at which he was wont to travel they had marked their -camping-places on the wooded shores, by planting a line of branches -in the snow across the river from one side to the other. Thus even -at night it would have been impossible to pass their tents without -noticing the line of marks. The tents inside or out always presented -the same spectacle. Battered-looking dogs of all ages surrounded the -dwelling-place. In the trees or on a stage, meat, snow-shoes, and dog -sleds, lay safe from canine ravage. Inside, some ten or twelve people -congregated around a bright fire burning in the centre. The lodge was -usually large, requiring a dozen moose skins in its construction. -Quantities of moose or buffalo meat, cut into slices, hung to dry in -the upper smoke. The inevitable puppy dog playing with a stick; the -fat, greasy child pinching the puppy dog, drinking on all fours out -of a tin pan, or sawing away at a bit of meat; and the women, old -or young, cooking or nursing with a naïveté which Rubens would have -delighted in. All these made up a Chipewyan “Interior,” such as it -appeared wherever we halted in our march, and leaving our dogs upon the -river, went up into the tree-covered shore to where the tents stood -pitched. - -Anxious to learn the amount of game destroyed by a good hunter in a -season, I caused one of the men to ask Chripo what he had killed. -Chripo counted for a time on his fingers, and then informed us that -since the snow fell he had killed ten wood buffalo and twenty-five -moose; in other words, about seventeen thousand pounds of meat, during -four months. But of this a large quantity went to the Hudson’s Bay -Fort, at the Forks of the Athabasca. - -The night of the 4th of March found us camped in a high wood, at a -point where a “cache” of provisions had been made for ourselves and -our dogs. More than a fortnight earlier these provisions had been sent -from Fort Chipewyan, on Lake Athabasca, and had been deposited in the -“cache” to await my companion’s arrival. A bag of fish for the dogs, a -small packet of letters, and a bag of good things for the master swung -from a large tripod close to the shore. Some of these things were very -necessary, all were welcome, and after a choice supper we turned in for -the night. - -At four o’clock next morning we were off. My friend led the march, and -the day was to be a long one. For four hours we held on, and by an hour -after sunrise we had reached a hut, where dwelt a Chipewyan named Echo. -The house was deserted, and if anybody had felt inclined to ask, Where -had Echo gone to? Echo was not there to answer where. Nobody, however, -felt disposed to ask the question, but in lieu thereof dinner was -being hastily got ready in Echo’s abandoned fireplace. Dinner? Yes, our -_first_ dinner took place usually between seven and eight o’clock a.m. -Nor were appetites ever wanting at that hour either. - -Various mishaps, of broken snow-shoe and broken-down dog, had retarded -my progress on this morning, and by the time the leading train had -reached Echo’s I was far behind. One of my dogs had totally given out, -not Cerf-vola, but the Ile à la Crosse dog “Major.” Poor brute! he -had suddenly lain down, and refused to move. He was a willing, good -hauler, generally barking vociferously whenever any impediment in front -detained the trains. I saw at once it was useless to coerce him after -his first break-down, so there was nothing for it but to take him from -the harness and hurry on with the other three dogs as best I could. Of -the old train which had shared my fortunes ever since that now distant -day in the storm, on the Red River steamboat, two yet remained to me. - -Pony had succumbed at the Rivière la Loche, and had been left behind at -that station, to revel in an abundance of white fish. The last sight -I got of him was suggestive of his character. He was careering wildly -across the river with a huge stolen white fish in his mouth, pursued -by two men and half-a-dozen dogs, vainly attempting to recapture the -purloined property. Another dog, named “Sans Pareil,” had taken his -place, and thus far we had “marched on into the bowels of the land -without impediment.” - -From the day after my departure from Ile à la Crosse I had regularly -used snow-shoes, and now I seldom sought the respite of the sled, but -trudged along behind the dogs. I well knew that it was only by sparing -my dogs thus that I could hope to carry them the immense distance I -purposed to travel; and I was also aware that a time might come when, -in the many vicissitudes of snow travel, I would be unable to walk, and -have to depend altogether on my train for means of movement. So, as day -by day the snow-shoe became easier, I had tramped along, until now, on -this 5th of March, I could look back at nigh three hundred miles of -steady walking. - -Our meal at Echo’s over we set out again. Another four hours passed -without a halt, and another sixteen or seventeen miles lay behind us. -Then came the second dinner--cakes, tea, and sweet pemmican; and away -we went once more upon the river. The day was cold, but fine; the dogs -trotted well, and the pace was faster than before. Two Indians had -started ahead to hurry on to a spot, indicated by my companion, where -they were to make ready the camp, and await our arrival. - -Night fell, and found us still upon the river. A bright moon silvered -the snow; we pushed along, but the dogs were now tired, all, save my -train, which having only blankets, guns, and a few articles to carry, -went still as gamely as ever. At sun-down our baggage sleds were far to -the rear. My companion driving a well-loaded sled led the way, while I -kept close behind him. - -For four hours after dark we held steadily on; the night was still, -but very cold; the moon showed us the track; dogs and men seemed to go -forward from the mere impulse of progression. I had been tired hours -before, and had got over it; not half-tired, but regularly weary; and -yet somehow or other the feeling of weariness had passed away, and one -stepped forward upon the snow-shoe by a mechanical effort that seemed -destitute of sense or feeling. - -At last we left the river, and ascended a steep bank to the left, -passing into the shadow of gigantic pines. Between their giant trunks -the moonlight slanted; and the snow, piled high on forest wreck, glowed -lustrous in the fretted light. A couple of miles more brought us -suddenly to the welcome glare of firelight, and at ten o’clock at night -we reached the blazing camp. Eighteen hours earlier we had started for -the day’s march, and only during two hours had we halted on the road. -We had, in fact, marched steadily during sixteen hours, twelve of which -had been at rapid pace. The distance run that day is unmeasured, and is -likely to remain so for many a day; but at the most moderate estimate -it would not have been less than fifty-six miles. It was the longest -day’s march I ever made, and I had cause long to remember it, for on -arising at daybreak next morning I was stiff with Mal de Raquette. - -In the North, Mal de Raquette or no Mal de Raquette, one must march; -sick or sore, or blistered, the traveller must frequently still -push on. Where all is a wilderness, progression frequently means -preservation; and delay is tantamount to death. - -In our case, however, no such necessity existed; but as we were only -some twenty-five miles distant from the great central distributing -point of the Northern Fur Trade, it was advisable to reach it without -delay. Once again we set out: debouching from the forest we entered -a large marsh. Soon a lake, with low-lying shores, spread before us. -Another marsh, another frozen river, and at last, a vast lake opened -out upon our gaze. Islands, rocky, and clothed with pine-trees, rose -from the snowy surface. To the east, nothing but a vast expanse of -ice-covered sea, with a blue, cold sky-line; to the north, a shore of -rocks and hills, wind-swept, and part covered with dwarf firs, and on -the rising shore, the clustered buildings of a large fort, with a red -flag flying above them in the cold north blast. - -The “lake” was Athabasca, the “clustered buildings” Fort Chipewyan, and -the Flag--well; we all know it; but it is only when the wanderer’s eye -meets it in some lone spot like this that he turns to it, as the emblem -of a Home which distance has shrined deeper in his heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - Lake Athabasca.--Northern Lights.--Chipewyan.--The real Workers - of the World. - - -Athabasca, or more correctly “Arabascow,” “The Meeting-place of many -Waters,” is a large lake. At this fort of Chipewyan we stand near its -western end. Two hundred miles away to the east, its lonely waters -still lave against the granite rocks. - -Whatever may be the work to which he turns hand or brain, an Indian -seldom errs. If he names a lake or fashions a piece of bark to sail its -waters, both will fit the work for which they were intended. - -“The meeting-place of many waters” tells the story of Athabasca. In its -bosom many rivers unite their currents; and from its north-western rim -pours the Slave River, the true Mackenzie. Its first English discoverer -called it the “Lake of the Hills;” a more appropriate title would have -been “The Lake of the Winds,” for fierce and wild the storms sweep over -its waves. - -Over the Lake Athabasca the Northern Lights hold their highest revels. -They flash, and dance, and stream, and intermingle, and wave together -their many colours like the shapes and hues of a kaleidoscope. -Sometimes the long columns of light seem to rest upon the silent, -frozen shores, stretching out their rose-tipped tops to touch the -zenith; again the lines of light traverse the sky from east to west as -a hand might sweep the chords of some vast harp, and from its touch -would flow light instead of music. So quickly run the colours along -these shafts, that the ear listens instinctively for sound in the deep -stillness of the frozen solitude; but sound I have never heard. Many a -time I have listened breathless to catch the faintest whisper of these -wondrous lightnings; they were mute as the waste that lay around me. - -Figures convey but a poor idea of cold, yet they are the only means -we have, and by a comparison of figures some persons, at least, will -understand the cold of an Athabascan winter. The citadel of Quebec has -the reputation of being a cold winter residence; its mean temperature -for the month of January is 11° 7´ Fahr. The mean temperature of the -month of January, 1844, at Fort Chipewyan, was 22° 74´, or nearly 30° -colder, and during the preceding month of December the wind blew with -a total pressure of one thousand one hundred and sixty pounds to the -square foot. - -It is perhaps needless to say more about the rigour of an Athabascan -winter. - -As it is the “meeting-place of many waters” so also is it the -meeting-place of many systems. Silurian and Devonian approach it from -the west. Laurentian still holds five-sixths of its waters in the same -grasp as when what is now Athabasca lay a deep fiord along the ancient -ocean shore. The old rock caught it to his rough heart then, and when -in later ages the fickle waves which so long had kissed his lips left -him stern and lonely, he still held the clear, cold lake to his iron -bosom. - -Athabasca may be said to mark also the limits of some great divisions -of the animal kingdom. The reindeer and that most curious relic of an -older time, the musk ox, come down near its north-eastern shores, for -there that bleak region known as the “Barren Grounds” is but a few -miles distant. These animals never pass to the southern end of the -lake; the Cariboo, or reindeer of the woods, being a distinct species -from that which inhabits the treeless waste. The wood buffalo and the -moose are yet numerous on the north-west and south-west shores: but of -these things we shall have more to say anon. - -All through the summer, from early May to mid-October, the shores of -the lake swarm with wild geese, and the twilight midsummer midnight is -filled with the harsh sounds of the cries of the snow goose, or the -“wavy” flying low over their favourite waters. - -In early days Chipewyan was an important centre of the fur trade, and -in later times it has been made the starting-point of many of the -exploratory parties to the northern coast. From Old Fort Chipewyan -Mackenzie set forth to explore the great northern river, and to the -same place he returned when first of all men north of the 40th parallel -he had crossed in the summers of 1792–93 the continent to the Pacific -Ocean. - -It was from New Fort Chipewyan that Simpson set out to trace the -coast-line of the Arctic Ocean; and earlier than either, it was from -Fond du Lac, at the eastern end of Fort Athabasca, that Samuel Hearne -wandered forth to reach the Arctic Sea. - -To-day it is useful to recall these stray items of adventure from the -past in which they lie buried. It has been said by some one that a -“nation cannot be saved by a calculation;” neither can she be made by -one. - -If to-day we are what we are, it is because a thousand men in bygone -times did not stop to count the cost. The decline of a nation differs -from that of an individual in the first symptoms of its decay. The -heart of the nation goes first, the extremities still remain vigorous. -France, with many a gallant soul striking hard for her in the Carnatic -or in Canada, sickens in the pomp and luxury of Versailles, and has -nothing to offer to her heroes but forgetfulness, debt, or the rack. -Her colonial history was one long tissue of ingratitude. - -Biencourt, De Chastes, Varrene de la Verendrie, or Lally might fight -and toil and die, what cared the selfish heart of old France? The -order of St. Louis long denied, and 40,000 livres of debt rewarded the -discovery of the Rocky Mountains. Frenchmen gave to France a continent. -France thought little of the gift, and fate took it back again. History -sometimes repeats itself. There is a younger if not a greater Britain -waiting quietly to reap the harvest of her mother’s mistakes. - -But to Chipewyan. It is emphatically a lonely spot; in summer the cry -of the wild bird keeps time to the lapping of the wave on the rocky -shore, or the pine islands rustle in the western breeze; nothing else -moves over these 8000 square miles of crystal water. Now and again at -long intervals the beautiful canoe of a Chipewyan glides along the -bay-indented shores, or crosses some traverse in the open lake. - -When Samuel Hearne first looked upon the “Arabascow,” buffalo were -very numerous along its southern shore, to-day they are scarce; all -else rests as then in untamed desolation. At times this west end of -the lake has been the scene of strange excitements. Men came from -afar and pitched their tents awhile on these granite shores, ere they -struck deeper into the heart of the great north. Mackenzie, Franklin, -Back, Richardson, Simpson, Rae, rested here; ere piercing further into -unknown wilds, they flew the red-cross flag o’er seas and isles upon -whose shores no human foot had pressed a sand-print. - -Eight hundred thousand pounds sunk in the Arctic Sea! will exclaim my -calculating friend behind the national counter; nearly a million gone -for ever! No, head cash-keeper, you are wrong. That million of money -will bear interest higher than all your little speculations in times -not far remote, and in times lying deep in the misty future. In hours -when life and honour lie at different sides of the “to do” or “not to -do,” men will go back to times when other men battling with nature or -with man, cast their vote on the side of honour, and by the white light -thrown into the future from the great dead Past, they will read their -roads where many paths commingle. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - A Hudson’s Bay Fort.--It comes at last.--News from the - outside world.--Tame and wild Savages.--Lac Clair.--A - treacherous deed.--Harper. - - -The term “Fort” which so frequently occurs in these pages may perhaps -convey an erroneous impression to the reader’s mind. An imposing array -of rampart and bastion, a loop-holed wall or formidable fortalice may -arise before his mind’s eye as he reads the oft-recurring word. Built -generally upon the lower bank of a large river or lake, but sometimes -perched upon the loftier outer bank, stands the Hudson’s Bay Fort. A -square palisade, ten to twenty feet high, surrounds the buildings; in -the prairie region this defence is stout and lofty, but in the wooded -country it is frequently dispensed with altogether. - -Inside the stockade some half-dozen houses are grouped together -in square or oblong form. The house of the Bourgeois and Clerks, -the store wherein are kept the blankets, coloured cloths, guns, -ammunition, bright handkerchiefs, ribbons, beads, &c., the staple -commodities of the Indian trade; another store for furs and peltries, -a building from the beams of which hang myriads of skins worth many a -gold piece in the marts of far-away London city;--martens and minks, -and dark otters, fishers and black foxes, to say nothing of bears and -beavers, and a host of less valuable furs. Then came the houses of the -men. - -Lounging at the gate, or on the shore in front, one sees a half-breed -in tasselated cap, or a group of Indians in blanket robes or -dirty-white capôtes; everybody is smoking; the pointed poles of a -wigwam or two rise on either side of the outer palisades, and over -all there is the tapering flag-staff. A horse is in the distant river -meadow. Around the great silent hills stand bare, or fringed with -jagged pine tops, and some few hundred yards away on either side, a -rude cross or wooden railing blown over by the tempest, discoloured by -rain or snow-drift, marks the lonely resting-place of the dead. - -Wild, desolate and remote are these isolated trading spots, yet it is -difficult to describe the feelings with which one beholds them across -some ice-bound lake, or silent river as the dog trains wind slowly -amidst the snow. Coming in from the wilderness, from the wrack of -tempest, and the bitter cold, wearied with long marches, footsore or -frozen, one looks upon the wooden house as some palace of rest and -contentment. - -I doubt if it be possible to know more acute comfort, for its measure -is exactly the measure of that other extremity of discomfort which -excessive cold and hardship have carried with them. Nor does that -feeling of home and contentment lose aught for want of a welcome at the -threshold of the lonely resting-place. Nothing is held too good for the -wayfarer; the best bed and the best supper are his. He has, perhaps, -brought letters or messages from long absent friends, or he comes with -news of the outside world; but be he the bearer of such things, or only -the chance carrier of his own fortunes, he is still a welcome visitor -to the Hudson’s Bay Fort. - -Three days passed away in rest, peace, and plenty. It was nearing -the time when another start would be necessary, for after all, this -Athabascan Fort was scarce a half-way house in my winter journey. -The question of departure was not of itself of consequence, but the -prospect of leaving for a long sojourn in deeper solitudes, without -one word of news from the outside world, without that winter packet -to which we had all looked so long, was something more than a mere -disappointment. - -All this time we had been travelling in advance of the winter packet, -and as our track left a smooth road for whatever might succeed us, -we reckoned upon being overtaken at some point of the journey by the -faster travelling express. Such had not been the case, and now three -days had passed since our arrival without a sign of an in-coming -dog-train darkening the expanse of the frozen lake. - -The morning of the 9th of March, however, brought a change. Far away -in the hazy drift and “poudre” which hung low upon the surface of -the lake, the figures of two men and one sled of dogs became faintly -visible. Was it only Antoine Tarungeau, a solitary “Freeman” from the -Quatre Fourche, going like a good Christian to his prayers at the -French Mission? Or was it the much-wished-for packet? - -It soon declared itself; the dogs were steering for the fort, and not -for the mission. Tarungeau might be an indifferent church member, but -had the whole college of cardinals been lodged at Chipewyan they must -have rejoiced that it was not Tarungeau going to mass, and that it was -the winter packet coming to the fort. - -What reading we had on that Sunday afternoon! News from the far-off -busy world; letters from the far-off quiet home; tidings of great men -passed away from the earth; glad news and sorry news, borne through -months of toil 1500 miles over the winter waste. - -And now came a short busy time at the fort. A redistribution of the -packet had to be made. On to the north went a train of dogs for the -distant Yukon; on to the west went a train of dogs for the head of -the Peace River. In three days more I made ready to resume my journey -up the Peace River. Once more the sleds were packed, once more the -Untiring Cerf-vola took his place in the leading harness, and the word -“march” was given. - -This time I was to be alone. My good friend, whose unvarying kindness -had made an acquaintanceship of a few weeks ripen into a friendship -destined I trust to endure for many years, was no longer to be my -companion. - -He came, in company with another officer, some miles of the way, to see -me off; and then at the Quatre Fourche we parted, he to return to his -lonely fort, I to follow across the wide-spreading Lake Mamoway the -long trail to the setting sun. - -If the life of the wanderer possesses many moments of keen enjoyment, -so also has it its times of intense loneliness; times when no -excitement is near to raise the spirits, no toil to render thought -impossible; nothing but a dreary, hopeless prospect of labour, which -takes day after day some little portion from that realm of space -lying before him, only to cast it to augment that other dim land of -separation which lies behind him. - -Honest Joe Gargery never with his blacksmith hand nailed a sadder truth -upon the wheel of time, than when he defined life to be made up of -“partings welded together.” But in civilization generally when we part -we either look forward to meeting again at some not remote period, or -we have so many varied occupations, or so many friends around us, that -if the partings are welded together, so also are the meetings. - -In the lone spaces it is different. The endless landscape, the monotony -of slow travel, the dim vision of what lies before, seen only in the -light of that other dim prospect lying behind; lakes, rivers, plains, -forests, all hushed in the savage sleep of winter;--these things bring -to the wanderer’s mind a sense of loneliness almost as vast as the -waste which lies around him. - -On the evening of the 12th of March I camped alone in the wilderness. -Far as eye could reach, on every side, there lay nothing but hard, -drifted snow, and from its surface a few scant willows raised their -dry leafless saplings. True, three or four men were busy scraping the -deep snow from the lee side of some low willow bushes, but they were -alien in every thought and feeling; and we were separated by a gulf -impossible to bridge: so that I was virtually alone. I will not say on -whose side the fault lay, and possibly the admission may only prove a -congeniality of feeling between myself and my train; but, for all that, -I felt a far stronger tie of companionship with the dogs that drew my -load, than for the men with whom I now found myself in company. - -They were by no means wild; far from it, they were eminently tame. One -of them was a scoundrel of a very low type, as some of his actions will -hereafter show. In him the wild animal had been long since destroyed, -the tame brute had taken its place. - -The man who had been my servant from the Saskatchewan was a French -half-breed; strong, active, and handsome, he was still a sulky, -good-for-nothing fellow. One might as well have tried to make friends -with a fish to which one cast a worm, as with this good-looking, -good-for-nothing man. He had depth sufficient to tell a lie which -might wear the semblance of truth for a day; and cunning enough to -cheat without being caught in the actual fact. I think he was the most -impudent liar I have ever met. The motive which had induced him to -accept service in this long journey was, I believe, a domestic one. He -had run away with a young English half-breed girl, and then ran away -from her. If she had only known the object of her affections as well as -I did, she would have regarded the last feat of activity as a far less -serious evil than the first. - -The third man was a Swampy Indian of the class one frequently meets -in the English-speaking settlement on Red River. Taken by himself, he -was negatively good; but placed with others worse than himself, he was -positively bad. He was, however, a fair traveller, and used his dogs -with a degree of care and attention seldom seen amongst the half-breeds. - -Small wonder, then, that with these three worthies who, though -strangers, now met upon a base of common rascality, that I should feel -myself more completely alone than if nothing but the waste had spread -around me. Full thirty days of travel must elapse ere the mountains, -that great break to which I looked so long, should raise their snowy -peaks across my pathway. - -The lameness of the last day’s travel already gave ominous symptoms of -its presence. The snow was deeper than I had yet seen it; heretofore, -at the longest, the forts lay within five days’ journey of each other; -now there was one gap in which, from one post to the next, must, at the -shortest, be a twelve days’ journey. - -At dawn, on the 13th of March, we quitted our burrow in the deep drift -of the willow bushes, and held our way across what was seemingly a -shoreless sea. - -The last sand ridge or island top of Lake Athabasca had sunk beneath -the horizon, and as the sun came up, flashing coldly upon the level -desert of snow, there lay around us nought but the dazzling surface of -the frozen lake. - -Lac Clair, the scene of our present day’s journey, is in reality an arm -of the Athabasca. Nothing but a formation of mud and drift, submerged -at high summer water, separated it from the larger lake; but its -shores vary much from those of its neighbour, being everywhere low and -marshy, lined with scant willows and destitute of larger timber. Of -its south-western termination but little is known, but it is said to -extend in that direction from the Athabasca for fully seventy miles -into the Birch Hills. Its breadth from north to south would be about -half that distance. It is subject to violent winter storms, accompanied -by dense drift; and from the scarcity of wood along its shores, and the -absence of distinguishing landmarks, it is much dreaded by the winter -_voyageur_. - -The prevailing north-east wind of the Lake Athabasca has in fact the -full sweep of 250 miles across Lac Clair. To lose one’s way upon it -would appear to be the first rule of travel amongst the trip-men of -Fort Chipewyan. The last adventure of this kind which had taken place -on its dim expanse had nearly a tragic end. - -On the southern shore of the lake three moose had been killed. When -the tidings reached the fort, two men and two sleds of dogs set off -for the “cache;” it was safely found, the meat packed upon the sleds, -and all made ready for the return. Then came the usual storm: dense -and dark the fine snow (dry as dust under the biting cold) swept the -surface of the lake. The sun, which on one of these “poudre” days in -the North seems to exert as much influence upon the war of cold and -storm as some good bishop in the Middle Ages was wont to exercise -over the belligerents at Cressy or Poictiers, when, as it is stated, -“He withdrew to a neighbouring eminence, and there remained during -the combat;”--the sun, I say, for a time, seemed to protest, by his -presence, against the whole thing, but then finding all protests -equally disregarded by the wind and cold, he muffled himself up in the -nearest cloud and went fast asleep until the fight was over. - -For a time the men held their way across the lake; then the dogs -became bewildered; the leading driver turned to his companion, and -telling him to drive both trains, he strode on in front of his dogs to -give a “lead” in the storm. - -Driving two trains of loaded dogs is hard work; the second driver could -not keep up, and the man in front deliberately increasing his pace -walked steadily away, leaving his comrade to the mercies of cold and -drift. He did this coward act with the knowledge that his companion had -only three matches in his possession, he having induced him to give up -the rest to Indians whom they had fallen in with. - -The man thus abandoned on the dreaded lake was a young Hudson’s Bay -clerk, by no means habituated to the hardships of such a situation. But -it requires little previous experience to know when one is lost. The -dogs soon began to wander, and finally headed for where their instinct -told them lay the shore. When they reached the shore night had fallen, -the wind had gone down, but still the cold was intense; it was the -close of January, the coldest time of the year, when 80° of frost is -no unusual occurrence. At such a time it was no easy matter to light -a fire; the numbed, senseless hands cannot find strength to strike a -match; and many a time had I seen a hardy _voyageur_ fail in his first -attempts with the driest wood, and with full daylight to assist him. - -But what chance had the inexperienced hand, with scant willow sticks -for fuel and darkness to deceive him? His wood was partly green, and -one by one his three matches flashed, flickered, and died out. - -No fire, no food--alone somewhere on Lac Clair in 40° to 50° below -zero! It was an ugly prospect. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he got -a dog at his feet and lay down. With daylight he was up, and putting -the dogs into harness set out; but he knew not the landmarks, and he -steered heedless of direction. He came at last to a spring of open -water; it was highly charged with sulphur, and hence its resistance to -the cold of winter. Though it was nauseous to the taste he drank deeply -of it; no other spring of water existed in all the wide circle of the -lake. - -For four days the wretched man remained at this place; his sole hope -lay in the chance that men would come to look for him from the fort, -but ere that would come about a single night might suffice to terminate -his existence. - -These bad nights are bad enough when we have all that food and fuel -can do. Men lose their fingers or their toes sometimes in the hours of -wintry daylight, but here fire there was none, and food without fire -was not to be had. The meat upon the sled had frozen almost as solid as -the stone of a quarry. - -He still hoped for relief, but had he known of the conduct of the -ruffian whose desertion had thus brought him to this misery his hope -would have been a faint one. - -On the day following his desertion, the deserter appeared at the Quatre -Fourche; he pretended to be astounded that his comrade had not turned -up. On the same evening he reached Fort Chipewyan: he told a plausible -story of having left his companion smoking near a certain spot on the -north side of the lake; on his return to the spot the sleds were gone, -and he at once concluded they had headed for home. Such was his tale. - -A search expedition was at once despatched, but acting under the -direction of the scoundrel Harper no trace of the lost man could be -found. - -No wonder! for the scene of his desertion lay many miles away to the -south, but the villain wished to give time for cold and hunger to do -their work; not for any gratification of hatred or revenge towards his -late comrade, but simply because “dead men tell no tales.” Upon the -return of this unsuccessful expedition suspicions were aroused; the man -was besought to tell the truth, all would be forgiven him if he now -confessed where it was he had left his companion. He still however -asserted that he had left him on the shore of the lake at a spot marked -by a single willow. Again a search party goes out, but this time under -experienced leadership, and totally disregarding the story of the -deserter. - -Far down, near the south shore of the lake, the quick eye of a -French half-breed caught the faint print of a snow-shoe edge on the -hard drifted surface; he followed the clue--another print--and then -another;--soon the shore was reached, and the impress of a human form -found among the willows. - -Never doubting for an instant that the next sight would be the frozen -body of the man they sought for (since the fireless camping-place -showed that he was without the means of making a fire), the searchers -went along. They reached the Sulphur Spring, and there, cold, hungry, -but safe, sat the object of their search. Five days had passed, yet he -had not frozen! - -If I wished to learn more of the deserter Harper, I had ample -opportunity of doing so. His villainous face formed a prominent object -at my camp fire. He was now the packet bearer to Fort Vermilion on the -Peace River; he was one of the worthies I have already spoken of. - -We crossed Lac Clair at a rapid pace, and reached at dusk the -north-western shore; of course we had lost ourselves; but the evening -was calm and clear, and the error was set right by a two-hours’ -additional march. - -It was piercingly cold when, some time after dark, the shore was -gained; but wood was found by the yellow light of a full moon, and a -good camp made on a swampy island. From here our path lay through the -woods and ridges nearly due west again. - -On the fourth day after leaving Fort Chipewyan we gained a sandy ridge -covered with cypress, and saw beneath us a far-stretching valley; -beyond, in the distance to the north and west, the blue ridges of the -Cariboo Mountains closed the prospect. In the valley a broad river lay -in long sweeping curves from west to east. - -We were on the banks of the Peace River. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - The Peace River.--Volcanos.--M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr.--Half - a loaf is better than no bread.--An oasis in the - desert.--Tecumseh and Black Hawk. - - -It is possible that the majority of my readers have never heard of the -Peace River. The British empire is a large one, and Britons can get -on very well without knowing much of any river, excepting perhaps the -Thames, a knowledge of which, until lately, Londoners easily obtained -by the simple process of smelling. Britannia it is well known rules the -waves, and it would be ridiculous to expect rulers to bother themselves -much about the things which they rule. Perchance, in a score of years -or so, when our lively cousins bring forth their little Alaska Boundary -question, as they have already brought forth their Oregon, Maine, and -San Juan boundary questions, we may pay the Emperor of Morocco, or some -equally enlightened potentate, the compliment of asking him to tell us -whether the Peace River has always been a portion of the British -empire? or whether we knew the meaning of our own language when we -framed the treaty of 1825? Until then, the Peace River may rest in the -limbo of obscurity; and in any case, no matter who should claim it, its -very name must indicate that it was never considered worth fighting -about. - -[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF THE PEACE RIVER.] - -Nevertheless the Peace River is a large stream of water, and some time -or other may be worth fighting for too. Meantime we will have something -to say about it. - -Like most of the streams which form the headwaters of the great -Mackenzie River system, the Peace River has its sources west of the -Chipewyan or Rocky Mountains. Its principal branch springs from a wild -region called the Stickeen, an alpine land almost wholly unknown. There -at a presumed elevation of 6000 feet above the sea level, amidst a vast -variety of mountain peaks, the infant river issues from a lake to begin -its long voyage of 2500 miles to the Arctic Sea. - -This region is the birthplace of many rivers, the Yukon, the Liard, -the Peace River, and countless streams issue from this impenetrable -fastness. Situated close to the Pacific shore, at their source, these -rivers nevertheless seek far distant oceans. A huge barrier rises -between them and the nearest coast. The loftiest range of mountains in -North America here finds its culminating point; the coast or cascade -range shoots up its volcanic peaks to nigh 18,000 feet above the -neighbouring waves. Mounts Cri-Hon and St. Elias cast their crimson -greeting far over the gloomy sea, and Ilyamna and Island Corovin catch -up the flames to fling them further to Kamchatka’s fire-bound coast. - -The Old World and the New clasp hands of fire across the gloomy -Northern Sea; and amidst ice and flame Asia and America look upon each -other. - -Through 300 miles of mountain the Peace River takes its course, -countless creeks and rivers seek its waters; 200 miles from its -source it cleaves the main Rocky Mountain chain through a chasm whose -straight, steep cliffs frown down on the black water through 6000 feet -of dizzy verge. Then it curves into the old ocean bed, of which we have -already spoken, and for 500 miles it flows in a deep, narrow valley, -from 700 to 800 feet below the level of the surrounding plateau. Then -it reaches a lower level, the banks become of moderate elevation, -the country is densely wooded, the large river winds in serpentine -bends through an alluvial valley; the current once so strong becomes -sluggish, until at last it pours itself through a delta of low-lying -drift into the Slave River, and its long course of 1100 miles is ended. - -For 900 miles only two interruptions break the even flow of its waters. -A ridge of limestone underlies the whole bed of the river at a point -some 250 miles from its mouth, causing a fall of eight feet with a -short rapid above it. The other obstacle is the mountain cañon on the -outer and lower range of the Rocky Mountains, where a portage of twelve -miles is necessary. - -In its course through the main chain of the Rocky Mountains no break -occurs, the current runs silently under the immense precipice as though -it fears to awaken even by a ripple the sleeping giant at whose feet it -creeps. - -Still keeping west, we began to ascend the Peace River; we had struck -its banks more than 100 miles above its delta, by making this direct -line across Lac Clair and the intervening ridges. - -Peace River does not debouch into Lake Athabasca, but as we have said -into the Slave River some twenty miles below the lake; at high water, -however, it communicates with Athabasca through the canal-like channel -of the Quatre Fourche, and when water is low in Peace River, Athabasca -repays the gift by sending back through the same channel a portion of -her surplus tide. - -Since leaving Lac Clair I had endured no little misery; the effects of -that long day’s travel from the river Athabasca had from the outset -been apparent, and each day now further increased them. The muscles of -ancles and instep had become painfully inflamed, to raise the snow-shoe -from the ground was frequently no easy matter, and at last every step -was taken in pain. I could not lie upon my sled because the ground was -rough and broken, and the sled upset at every hill side into the soft -snow; besides there was the fact that the hills were short and steep, -and dogs could not easily have dragged me to the summit. There was -nothing for me but to tramp on in spite of aching ancles. - -At the camp I tried my remedies, but all were useless. From -pain-killer, moose fat, laudanum and porpoise oil I concocted a -mixture, which I feel convinced contains a vast fortune for any -enterprising professor in the next century, and which even in these -infant ages of “puffing” might still be made to realize some few -millions of dollars; but nevertheless, my poor puffed foot resisted -every attempt to reduce it to symmetry, or what was more important, to -induce it to resume work. - -That sixteen-hour day had inflamed its worst passions, and it had -struck for an “eight-hour movement.” One can afford to laugh over it -all now, but then it was gloomy work enough; to make one step off the -old hidden dog-track of the early winter was to sink instantly into -the soft snow to the depth of three or four feet, and when we camped -at night on the wooded shore, our blankets were laid in a deep furrow -between lofty snow walls, which it had taken us a full hour to scoop -out. At last, after six days of weary travel through ridge and along -river reach, we drew near a house. - -Where the little stream called the Red River enters from the south the -wide channel of the Peace River, there stands a small Hudson’s Bay -post. Here, on the evening of the 17th of March, we put in for the -night. At this solitary post dwelt M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr; an old -and faithful follower of the Hudson’s Bay Company. When the powerful -North-West Fur Company became merged into the wealthier but less -enterprising corporation of the Hudson’s Bay, they left behind them -in the North a race of faithful servitors--men drawn in early life -from the best rural _habitans_ of Lower Canada--men worthy of that old -France from which they sprung, a race now almost extinct in the north, -as indeed it is almost all the world over. What we call “the spirit of -the age” is against it; faithful service to powers of earth, or even -to those of Heaven, not being included in the catalogue of virtues -taught in the big school of modern democracy. - -From one of this old class of French Canadians, M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr -was descended. - -Weary limbs and aching ancles pleaded for delay at this little post, -but advancing spring, and still more the repeated assaults of my -servant and his comrades upon my stock of luxuries, urged movement -as the only means of saving some little portion of those good things -put away for me by my kind host at Chipewyan. It seems positively -ridiculous now, how one could regard the possession of flour and -sugar, of sweet cake and sweet pemmican, as some of the most essential -requisites of life. And yet so it was. With the grocer in the -neighbouring street, and the baker round the corner, we can afford to -look upon flour and sugar as very common-place articles indeed; but if -any person wishes to arrive at a correct notion of their true value in -the philosophy of life let him eliminate them from his daily bill of -fare, and restrict himself solely to moose meat, grease, and milkless -tea. For a day or two he will get on well enough, then he will begin to -ponder long upon bread, cakes, and other kindred subjects; until day -by day he learns to long for bread, then the Bath buns of his earlier -years will float in enchanting visions before him; and like Clive at -the recollection of that treasure-chamber in the Moorshedabad Palace, -he will marvel at the moderation which left untouched a single cake -upon that wondrous counter. - -It is not difficult to understand the feelings which influenced a -distant northern Missionary, when upon his return to semi-civilization, -his friends having prepared a feast to bid him welcome, he asked them -to give him bread and nothing else. He had been without it for years, -and his mind had learned to hunger for it more than the body. - -My servitor, not content with living as his master lived, was helping -the other rascals to the precious fare. English half-breed, French -ditto, and full Christian Swampy had apparently formed an offensive -and defensive alliance upon the basis of a common rascality, Article -I. of the treaty having reference to the furtive partition of my best -white sugar, flour, and Souchong tea; things which, when they have to -be “portaged” far on men’s shoulders in a savage land, are not usually -deemed fitted for savage stomachs too. - -One night’s delay, and again we were on the endless trail; on along -the great silent river, between the rigid bordering pines, amidst the -diamond-shaped islands where the snow lay deep and soft in “shnay” and -“batture,” on out into the long reaches where the wild March winds -swept the river bed, and wrapt isle and shore in clouds of drift. - -On the evening of the 19th of March our party drew near a lonely post, -which, from the colour of the waters in the neighbouring stream, bears -the name of Fort Vermilion. The stormy weather had sunk to calm; the -blue sky lay over mingled forest and prairie; far off to the north and -south rose the dark outlines of the Reindeer and Buffalo Mountains; -while coming from the sunset and vanishing into the east, the great -silent river lay prone amidst the wilderness of snow. - -A gladsome sight was the little fort, with smoke curling from its -snow-laden roof, its cattle standing deep in comfortable straw-yard, -and its master at the open gateway, waiting to welcome me to his home: -pleasant to any traveller in the wilderness, but doubly so to me, whose -every step was now taken in the dull toil of unremitting pain. - -Physicians have termed that fellow-feeling which the hand sometimes -evinces for the hand, and the eye for the eye, by the name of -“sympathy.” It is unfortunate that these ebullitions of affection which -the dual members of our bodies manifest towards each other, should -always result in doubling the amount of pain and inconvenience suffered -by the remainder of the human frame. For a day or two past my right -foot had shown symptoms of sharing the sorrows of its fellow-labourer; -and however gratifying this proof of good feeling should have been, it -was nevertheless accompanied by such an increase of torture that one -could not help wishing for more callous conduct in the presence of Mal -de Raquette. - -A day’s journey north of the Peace River at Fort Vermilion, a long line -of hills approaching the altitude of a mountain range stretches from -east to west. At the same distance south lies another range of similar -elevation. The northern range bears the name of the Reindeer; the -southern one that of the Buffalo Mountains. These names nearly mark the -two great divisions of the animal kingdom of Northern America. - -It is singular how closely the habits of those two widely differing -animals, the reindeer and the buffalo, approximate to each other. Each -have their treeless prairie, but seek the woods in winter; each have -their woodland species; each separate when the time comes to bring -forth their young; each mass together in their annual migrations. Upon -both the wild man preys in unending hostility. When the long days of -the Arctic summer begin to shine over the wild region of the Barren -Grounds, the reindeer set forth for the low shores of the Northern -Ocean; in the lonely wilds whose shores look out on the Archipelago -where once the ships of England’s explorers struggled midst floe and -pack, and hopeless iceberg, the herds spend the fleeting summer season, -subsisting on the short grass, which for a few weeks changes these -cold, grey shores to softer green. - -With the approach of autumn the bands turn south again, and uniting -upon the borders of the barren grounds, spend the winter in the forests -which fringe the shores of the Bear, Great Slave, and Athabascan Lakes. -Thousands are killed by the Indians on this homeward journey; waylaid -in the passes which they usually follow, they fall easy prey to Dog-rib -and Yellow-knife and Chipewyan hunter; and in years of plenty the forts -of the extreme north count by thousands the fat sides of Cariboo, piled -high in their provision stores. - -But although the hills to the north and south of Vermilion bore the -names of Reindeer and Buffalo, upon neither of these animals did the -fort depend for its subsistence. The Peace River is the land of the -moose; here this ungainly and most wary animal has made his home, and -winter and summer, hunter and trader, along the whole length of 900 -miles, between the Peace and Athabasca, live upon his delicious venison. - -Two days passed away at Fort Vermilion; outside the March wind blew -in bitter storm, and drift piled high around wall and palisade. But -within there was rest and quiet, and many an anecdote of time long -passed in the Wild North Land. - -Here, at this post of Vermilion, an old veteran spent the winter of -his life; and from his memory the scenes of earlier days came forth -to interest the chance wanderer, whose footsteps had led him to this -lonely post. Few could tell the story of these solitudes better than -this veteran pensioner. He had come to these wilds while the century -was yet in its teens. He had seen Tecumseh in his glory, and Black Hawk -marshal his Sauk warriors, where now the river shores of Illinois wave -in long lines of yellow corn. He had spoken with men who had seen the -gallant La Perouse in Hudson’s Bay, when, for the last time in History, -France flew the _fleur-de-lis_ above the ramparts of an English fort in -this northern land. - -The veteran explorers of the Great North had been familiar to his -earlier days, and he could speak of Mackenzie and Frazer and Thompson, -Harmon and Henry, as men whom he had looked on in his boyhood. - -For me these glimpses of the bygone time had a strange charm. This -mighty solitude, whose vastness had worn its way into my mind; these -leagues and leagues of straight, tall pines, whose gloomy moan -seemed the voice of 3000 miles of wilderness; these rivers so hushed -and silent, save when the night owl hooted through the twilight; all -this sense of immensity was so impressed on the imagination by recent -travel, that it heightened the rough colouring of the tale which linked -this shadowy land of the present with the still more shadowy region of -the past. - -Perhaps at another time, when I too shall rest from travel, it will be -my task to tell the story of these dauntless men; but now, when many a -weary mile lies before me, it is time to hold westward still along the -great Unchagah. - -The untiring train was once again put into the moose-skin harness, -after another night of wild storm and blinding drift; and with crack of -whip and call to dog, Vermilion soon lay in the waste behind me. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - The Buffalo Hills.--A fatal Quarrel.--The exiled Beavers.-- - “At-tal-loo” deplores his wives.--A Cree Interior.--An - attractive Camp.--I camp alone.--Cerf-vola without a - Supper.--The Recreants return.--Dunvegan.--A Wolf-hunt. - - -A long distance, destitute of fort or post, had now to be passed. For -fully 300 miles above Vermilion, no sign of life but the wild man and -his prey (the former scant enough) are to be found along the shores of -the Peace River. - -The old fort known as Dunvegan lies twelve long winter days’ travel to -the south-west, and to reach it even in that time requires sustained -and arduous exertion. - -For 200 miles above Vermilion the course of the Peace River is -north-west; it winds in long, serpentine curves between banks which -gradually become more lofty as the traveller ascends the stream. To cut -the long curve to the south by an overland portage now became our work; -and for three days we followed a trail through mingled prairie and -forest-land, all lying deep in snow. Four trains of dogs now formed our -line. An Ojibbeway, named “White Bear,” led the advance, and the trains -took in turn the work of breaking the road after him. - -Mal de Raquette had at last proved more than a match for me, and -walking had become impossible; but the trains returning to Dunvegan -were lightly loaded, and as the officer at Vermilion had arranged that -the various dogs should take their turn in hauling my cariole, I had a -fresh train each day, and thus Cerf-vola and his company obtained a two -days’ respite from their toil. - -The old dog was as game as when I had first started, but the temporary -change of masters necessitated by our new arrangements seemed to puzzle -him not a little; and many a time his head would turn round to steal a -furtive look at the new driver, who, “filled with strange oaths,” now -ran behind his cariole. Our trail led towards the foot of the Buffalo -Hills. I was now in the country of the Beaver Indians, a branch of the -great Chipewyan race, a tribe once numerous on the river which bears -its present name of Peace from the stubborn resistance offered by them -to the all-conquering Crees--a resistance which induced that warlike -tribe to make peace on the banks of the river, and to leave at rest -the beaver-hunters of the Unchagah. - -Since that time, though far removed from the white settler, lying -remote from the faintest echo of civilization, this tribe of Beaver -Indians has steadily decreased; and to-day, in the whole length of -900 miles from beyond the mountains to the Lake Athabasca, scarce 200 -families lie scattered over the high prairies and undulating forest -belts of the Peace River. Now they live in peace with all men, but -once it was a different matter; the Crees were not their only enemies, -their Chipewyan cousins warred upon them; and once upon a time a fierce -commotion raged amongst their own tribe. - -One day a young chief shot his arrow through a dog belonging to -another brave. The brave revenged the death of his dog, and instantly -a hundred bows were drawn. Ere night had fallen some eighty warriors -lay dead around the camp, the pine woods rang with the lamentations of -the women, the tribe had lost its bravest men. There was a temporary -truce--the friends of the chief whose arrow had killed the dog yet -numbered some sixty people--it was agreed that they should separate -from the tribe and seek their fortune in the vast wilderness lying to -the south. - -In the night they commenced their march; sullenly their brethren saw -them depart never to return. They went their way by the shores of the -Lesser Slave Lake, towards the great plains which were said to lie far -southward by the banks of the swift-rolling Saskatchewan. - -The tribe of Beavers never saw again this exiled band, but a hundred -years later a Beaver Indian, who followed the fortunes of a white -fur-hunter, found himself in one of the forts of the Saskatchewan. -Strange Indians were camped around the palisades, they were portions -of the great Blackfeet tribe whose hunting-grounds lay south of the -Saskatchewan; among them were a few braves who, when they conversed -together, spoke a language different from the other Blackfeet; in this -language the Beaver Indian recognized his own tongue. - -The fortunes of the exiled branch were then traced, they had reached -the great plains, the Blackfeet had protected them, and they had joined -the tribe as allies in war against Crees or Assineboines. To-day the -Surcees still speak the guttural language of the Chipewyan. Notorious -among the wild horse-raiders of the prairies, they outdo even the -Blackfeet in audacious plundering; and although the parent stock on the -Peace River are quiet and harmless, the offshoot race has long been a -terror over the prairies of the south. No men in this land of hunters -hunt better than the Beavers. It is not uncommon for a single Indian -to render from his winter trapping 200 marten skins, and not less than -20,000 beavers are annually killed by the tribe on the waters of the -Peace River. - -On the morning of the third day after leaving Vermilion we fell in -with a band of Beavers. Five wigwams stood pitched upon a pretty -rising knoll, backed by pine woods, which skirted the banks of the -stream, upon the channel of which the lodges of the animal beaver rose -cone-like above the snow. - -When we reached the camp, “At-tal-loo,” the chief, came forth. A -stranger was a rare sight; and “At-tal-loo” was bound to make a speech; -three of his warriors, half a dozen children, and a few women filled up -the background. Leaning upon a long single-barrelled gun “At-tal-loo” -began. - -The mayor and corporation of that thriving borough of Porkingham could -not have been more solicitous to interrupt a royal progress to the -north, than was this Beaver Indian anxious to address the traveller; -but there was this difference between them, whereas Mayor Tomkins had -chiefly in view the excellent opportunity of hearing his own voice, -utterly unmindful of what a horrid bore he was making himself to -his sovereign, “At-tal-loo” had in view more practical results: his -frequent iteration of the word “tea,” in his guttural harangue, told at -once the story of his wants:-- - -“This winter had been a severe one; death had struck heavily into the -tribe; in these three wigwams six women had died. It was true each -brave still had three or four wives left, but moose were plenty, and a -man with six helpmates could be rich in dry meat and moose leather. Tea -was the pressing want. Without tea the meat of the moose was insipid; -without tea and tobacco the loss of even the fifth or sixth rib became -a serious affair.” - -I endeavoured to find out the cause of this mortality among the poor -hunters, and it was not far to seek. Constitutions enfeebled by close -intermarriage, and by the hardships attending upon wild life in these -northern regions, were fast wearing out. At the present rate of -mortality the tribe of the Beavers will soon be extinct, and with them -will have disappeared the best and the simplest of the nomad tribes of -the north. - -“At-tal-loo” was made happy with tea and tobacco, and we went our way. -Another doughty chief, named “Twa-poos,” probably also regarded tea -as the elixir of life, and the true source of happiness; but as my -servitor still continued to regard my stock of the luxury as a very -excellent medium for the accumulation of stray marten skins for his -own benefit, it was perhaps as well that I should only know “Twa-poos” -through the channel of hearsay. - -On the morning of the 25th of March we emerged from the tortuous -little Buffalo River upon the majestic channel of the Peace. Its banks -were now deeply furrowed beneath the prairie level, its broad surface -rolled away to the south-west, 500 yards from shore to shore. The -afternoon came forth bright and warm; from a high ridge on the left -shore a far-stretching view lay rolled before us--the Eagle Hills, the -glistening river, the wide expanse of dark forest and white prairie; -and above, a sky which had caught the hue and touch of spring, while -winter still stood intrenched on plain and river. - -Late that evening we reached the hut of a Cree Indian. A snow-storm -closed the twilight, and all sought shelter in the house: it was eight -feet by twelve, in superficial size, yet nineteen persons lay down to -rest in it, a Cree and his wife, an Assineboine and his wife, eight or -ten children, and any number of Swampy, Ojibbeway, and half-breeds. -Whenever the creaky door opened, a dozen dogs found ingress, and dodged -under and over the men, women, and children in hopeless confusion. - -The Assineboine squaw seemed to devote all her energies to the -expulsion of the intruders; the infants rolled over the puppy dogs, the -puppy dogs scrambled over the infants, and outside in the snow and on -the low roof Cerf-vola and his friends did battle with a host of Indian -dogs. So the night passed away. Next morning there was no track. We -waded deep in the snow, and made but slow progress. Things had reached -a climax with my crew; they had apparently made up their minds to make -a long, slow journey. They wanted to camp at any Indian lodge they -saw, to start late and to camp early, to eat, smoke, and talk, to do -everything in fact but travel. - -I was still nearly 150 miles from Dunvegan, and as much more from -that mountain range whose defiles I hoped to reach ere the ice road -on which I travelled had turned to a rushing stream. Already the sun -shone strong in the early afternoon, and the surface snow grew moist -under his warm rays, and here were my men ready to seek any excuse for -loitering on the way. - -About noon one day we reached a camp of Crees on the south shore of -the river. Moose-meat was getting scarce, so I asked my yellow rascal -to procure some tit-bits from the camp in exchange for tea. The whole -party at once vanished into the tents, while I remained with the dogs -upon the river. Presently my friend reappeared; he “could only get a -rib-piece or a tough leg.” “Then don’t take them,” I said. I saw the -rascal was at his old work, so taking some tea and tobacco, I went up -myself to the tents; meantime the men, women, and children had all come -out to the shore. I held up the tea and pointed to the moose-meat; -in an instant the scene changed--briskets, tongues, and moose-noses -were brought out, and I could have loaded my dogs with tit-bits had -I wished; still I pretended to find another motive for my henchman’s -conduct. “See,” I said to him, “I make a better trader with Indians -than you do. They would only give you the tough bits; I can get noses -enough to load my dogs with.” - -But the camp possessed an attraction still more enticing; early that -morning I had observed the Indians and half-breeds arraying themselves -in their gayest trappings. The half-breed usually in dressing himself -devotes the largest share of attention to the decoration of his legs; -beads, buckles, and embroidered ribbons flutter from his leggings, and -his garters are resplendent with coloured worsted or porcupine-quill -work. - -These items of finery had all been donned this morning in camp, the -long hair had been carefully smeared with bear’s fat, and then I had -not long to wait for an explanation of all this adornment. In one of -the three Cree tents there dwelt two good-looking squaws; we entered -this tent, the mats were unrolled, the fire replenished, and the squaws -set to work to cook a moose nose and tongue for my dinner. Dinner over, -the difficulty began; the quarters were excellent in the estimation of -my men. It would be the wildest insanity to think of quitting such a -paradise of love and food under at least a twenty-four hours’ delay. - -So they suddenly announced their intention of “bideing a wee.” I -endeavoured to expostulate, I spoke of the lateness of the season, the -distance I had yet to travel, the necessity of bringing to Dunvegan the -train of dogs destined for that post at the earliest period; all was of -no avail. Their snow-shoes were broken and they must wait. Very good; -put my four dogs into harness, and I will go on alone. So the dogs were -put in harness, and taking with me my most lootable effects, I set out -alone into the wilderness. - -It still wanted some four hours of sunset when I left the Indian lodges -on the south shore, and held my way along the far-reaching river. - -My poor old dog, after a few glances back to see why he should be -alone, settled himself to work, and despite a lameness, the result -of long travel, he led the advance so gamely that when night fell some -dozen miles lay between us and the Cree lodges. - -[Illustration: ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS.] - -At the foot of a high ridge whose summit still caught the glow from the -low-set sun, while the river valley grew dark in the twilight, I turned -the dogs towards the south shore, and looked about for a camping-place. -The lower bank sloped down to the ice abruptly, but dogs going to camp -will drag a load up, over, or through anything, and the prospect of -rest above is even a greater incentive to exertion than the fluent -imprecations of the half-breed below. So by dint of hauling we reached -the top, and then I made my camp in a pine-clump on the brink. When -the dogs had been unharnessed, and the snow dug away, the pine brush -laid upon the ground, and the wood cut, when the fire was made, the -kettle filled with snow and boiled, the dogs fed with a good hearty -meal of dry moose meat, and my own hunger satisfied; then, it was time -to think, while the fire lit up the pine stems, and the last glint of -daylight gleamed in the western sky. A jagged pine-top laid its black -cone against what had been the sunset. An owl from the opposite shore -sounded at intervals his lonely call; now and again a passing breeze -bent the fir trees until they whispered forth that mournful song which -seems to echo from the abyss of the past. - -The fir-tree is the oldest of the trees of the earth, and its look -and its voice tell the story of its age. If it were possible to have -left my worthless half-breeds altogether and to traverse the solitudes -alone, how gladly would I have done so! - -I felt at last at home. The great silent river, the lofty ridge -darkening against the twilight, yon star burning like a beacon above -the precipice--all _these_ were friends, and midst them one could rest -in peace. - -And now, as I run back in thought along that winter journey, and see -again the many camp-fires glimmering through the waste of wilderness, -there comes not to my memory a calmer scene than that which closed -around my lonely fire by the distant Unchagah. I was there almost in -the centre of the vast wilderness of North America, around, stretched -in silence, that mystery we term Nature, that thing which we see in -pictures, in landscapes, in memory; which we hear in the voice of -wind-swept forests and the long sob of seas against ocean rocks. This -mother, ever present, ever mysterious, sometimes terrible, often -tender--always beautiful--stood there with nought to come between us -save loneliness and twilight. I awoke with the dawn. Soft snow was -falling on river and ridge, and the opposite shore lay hid in mist and -gloom. A breakfast, which consists of pemmican, tea, and biscuit, takes -but a short time to prepare or to discuss, and by sunrise I was on the -river. - -Until mid-day I held on, but before that time the sun glowed brightly -on the dazzling surface of the snow; and the dogs panted as they hauled -their loads, biting frequent mouthfuls of the soft snow through which -they toiled. - -About noon I camped on the south shore. I had still two meals for -myself, but none remained for the dogs; the men had, however, assured -me that they would not fail to make an early start, and I determined to -await their coming in this camp. The day passed and night closed again, -but no figure darkened the long stretch of river, and my poor dogs went -supperless to sleep. Cerf-vola, it is true, had some scraps of sweet -pemmican, but they were mere drops in the ocean of his appetite. The -hauling-dog of the North is a queer animal about food; when it is there -he likes to have it, but when it isn’t there, like his Indian master, -he can do without it. - -About supper-hour he looks wistfully at his master, and seeing no sign -of pemmican-chopping or dry meat-slicing, he rolls himself up into a -ball and goes quietly to sleep in his snow bed. - -Again the night came softly down, the grey owl hooted his lonely cry, -the breeze stirred the forest tops, and the pine-tree murmured softly -and low, singing its song of the past to the melody of its myriad -years. At such times the mind of the wanderer sings its own song too. -It is the song of home; and as memory rings the cadence, time and -distance disappear, and the old land brightens forth amidst the embers -of the forest-fire. - -These islands which we call “home” are far away; afar off we idealize -them, in the forest depths we dream bright visions of their firesides -of welcome; in the snow-sheeted lake, and the icy stretch of river, and -the motionless muskeg, how sweetly sound the notes of brook and bird; -how brightly rise the glimpses of summer eves when the white mists -float over the scented meadows, and the corn-craik sounds from his lair -in the meadow-sweet! - -It is there, away in the east, far off, where the moon is rising above -the forked pines, or the upcoming stars edge the ice piles on the dim -eastern shores of yon sheeted lake. Far away, a speck amidst the waves -of distance, bright, happy, and peaceful; holding out its welcome, and -following with its anxious thoughts the wanderer who sails away over -the ocean, and roams the expanses of the earth. - -Well, some fine day we come back again; the great steamship touches the -long idealized shore. Gods, how the scene changes! We feel bursting -with joy to see it all again, to say, “Oh! how glad I am to see you -all!” - -We say it with our eyes to the young lady behind the refreshment -buffet at the railroad station. Alas! she mistakes our exuberance for -impertinence, and endeavours to annihilate us with a glance, enough to -freeze even her high-spirited sherry. We pass the bobby on his beat -with a smile of recognition, but that ferocious functionary, not a -whit softened, regards us as a “party” likely to afford him transient -employment in the matter of “running in.” The railway porter alone -seems to enter into our feelings of joy, but alas! it is only with a -view to that donation with which we are sure to present him. We have -enlisted his sympathies as her Majesty enlists her recruits, by the aid -of a shilling. Ere an hour has passed, the vision seen so frequently -through the mist of weary miles has vanished, and we have taken our -place in the vast humming crowd of England’s hive, to wish ourselves -back into the dreamy solitudes again. - -I had been asleep some hours, and midnight had come, when the sound of -voices roused me, and my recreant band approached the dying camp-fire. -They had at length torn themselves away from the abode of bliss and -moose meat, but either the memory of its vanished pleasures, or a stray -feeling of shame, kept them still sullen and morose. They, however, -announced their readiness to go on at once, as the crust upon the snow -was now hard. I rose from my robe, gave the dogs a late supper, and -once more we set out. - -Daylight found us still upon the track; the men seemed disposed to make -amends for former dilatoriness, the ice-crust was hard, and the dogs -went well. When the sun had become warm enough to soften the surface we -camped, had supper, and lay down to sleep for the day. - -With sunset came the hour of starting, and thus turning night into -day, breakfasting at sunset, dining at midnight, supping at sunrise, -travelling all night, and sleeping all day, we held our way up the -Unchagah. Three nights of travel passed, and the morning of the 1st -of April broke upon the silent river. We had travelled well; full one -hundred miles of these lonely, lofty shores had vanished behind us in -the grey dusky light of twilight, night, and early morning. - -As the dawn broke in the east, and gradually grew into a broader band -of light, the huge ramparts of the lofty shores wore strange, -unearthly aspects. Six hundred feet above the ice, wind and sun had -already swept the snow, and the bare hill-tops rose to view, free, at -last, from winter’s covering. - -[Illustration: NIGHT INTO DAY.] - -Lower down full many a rugged ridge, and steep, scarped precipice, held -its clinging growth of pine and poplar, or showed gigantic slides, upon -whose gravelly surface the loosened stones rolled with sullen echo, -into the river chasm beneath. Between these huge walls lay the river, -broadly curving from the west, motionless and soundless, as we swept -with rapid stride over its sleeping waters. - -Sometimes in the early morning, upon these steep ridges, the moose -would emerge from his covert, and look down on the passing dog trains, -his huge, ungainly head outstretched to - - “Sniff the tainted gale,” - -his great ears lying forward to catch the faint jingle of our -dog-bells. Nearly all else seemed to sleep in endless slumber, for, -alone of summer denizens, the owl, the moose, the wolf, and the raven -keep winter watch over the wilderness of the Peace River. - -At daybreak, on the 1st of April, we were at the mouth of the Smoking -River. This stream enters the Peace River from the south-west. It has -its source but a couple of days’ journey north of the Athabasca River, -at the spot where that river emerges from the Rocky Mountains. And it -drains the beautiful region of varied prairie and forest-land, which -lies at the base of the mountains between the Peace and Athabasca -rivers. - -The men made a long march this day. Inspired by the offer of a -gratuity, if they could make the fort by night-time, and anxious, -perhaps, to atone for past shortcomings, they made up a train of five -strong dogs. - -Setting out with this train at eight o’clock in the morning, three of -them held the pace so gamely that when evening closed we were in sight -of the lofty ridge which overhangs at the north shore, the fort of -Dunvegan. - -As the twilight closed over the broad river we were steering between -two huge walls of sandstone rock, which towered up 700 feet above the -shore. - -The yellow light of the sunset still glowed in the west, lighting up -the broad chasm through which the river flowed, and throwing many a -weird shadow along the basaltic precipice. Right in our onward track -stood a large dusky wolf. He watched us until we approached within 200 -yards of him, then turning he held his course up the centre of the -river. My five dogs caught sight of him, and in an instant they -gave chase. The surface of the snow was now hard frozen, and urged by -the strength of so many dogs the cariole flew along over the slippery -surface. - -[Illustration: THE WOLF-CHASE.] - -The driver was soon far behind. The wolf kept the centre of the river, -and the cariole bounded from snow pack to snow pack, or shot along the -level ice; while the dusky twilight filled the deep chasm with its -spectral light. But this wild chase was not long to last. The wolf -sought refuge amidst the rocky shore, and the dogs turned along the -trail again. - -Two hours later a few lights glimmered through the darkness, beneath -the black shadow of an immense hill. The unusual sound of rushing water -broke strangely on the ear after such a lapse of silence. But the hill -streams had already broken their icy barriers, and their waters were -even now hastening to the great river (still chained with the gyves of -winter), to aid its hidden current in the work of deliverance. - -Here and there deep pools of water lay on the surface of the ice, -through which the dogs waded, breast deep, and the cariole floated -like a boat. Thus, alternately wading and sliding, we drew near the -glimmering lights. - -We had reached Dunvegan! If the men and dogs slept well that night it -was little wonder. With the intermission only necessary for food, we -had travelled incessantly during four-and-twenty hours. Yet was it the -same that night at Dunvegan as it had been elsewhere at various times. -Outside the dogs might rest as they pleased, but within, in the huts, -Swampy and Half-breed and Ojibbeway danced and fiddled, laughed and -capered until the small hours of the morning. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - Alexander Mackenzie.--The first sign of Spring.--Spanker the - suspicious.--Cerf-vola contemplates cutlets.--An Indian - hunter.--“Encumbrances.”--Furs and finery.--A “dead - fall.”--The fur trade at both ends.--An old fort.--A night - attack.--Wife-lifting.--Cerf-vola in difficulties and - boots.--The Rocky Mountains at last. - - -About eighty years ago a solitary canoe floated on the waters of -the Peace River. Eight sturdy Iroquois or Canadians moved it with -dexterous paddle; in the centre sat the figure of a European, busy with -field-book and compass. - -He was a daring Scotchman from the isles, by name Alexander Mackenzie. -He was pushing his way slowly to the West; before him all was vague -conjecture. There was a mighty range of mountains the Indians said--a -range through which the river flowed in a profound chasm--beyond that -all was mystery; but other wild men, who dwelt westward of the chasm in -a land of mountains, had told them tales of another big river flowing -toward the mid-day sun into the lake that had no shore. - -This daring explorer built himself a house not far below the spot where -my recreant crew had found a paradise in the wilderness; here he passed -the winter. Early in the following spring he continued his ascent of -the river. He was the first Englishman that ever passed the Rocky -Mountains. He was the first man who crossed the Northern Continent. - -His footsteps were quickly followed by men almost as resolute. Findlay, -Frazer, and Thompson soon carried the fortunes of the North-West -Company through the defiles of the Peace River; and long before Jacob -Astor had dreamt his dream of Columbian fur trade, these men had -planted on the wild shores of New Caledonia and Oregon the first germs -of English domination; little dreaming, doubtless, as they did so, -that in after-time, between dulness upon one side and duplicity on the -other, the fruits of their labour and their sufferings would pass to -hostile hands. - -From its earliest days, the fur trade of the North had been carried -on from bases which moved northward with the tide of exploration. -The first French adventurers had made Tadousac, at the mouth of the -rock-shadowed Saguenay, the base of their operations; later on, -Montreal had been their point of distribution; then Mackenaw, between -Lakes Michigan and Huron. With the fall of French dominion in 1762 the -trade passed to English hands, and Fort William on Lake Superior, and -Fort Chipewyan on Lake Athabasca, became in time centres of fur trade. - -It was from the latter place that Mackenzie and his successors pushed -their explorations to the distant shores of Arctic and Pacific -Oceans. Among the earlier posts which these men established in the -Great Wilderness was this fort, called Dunvegan, on the Peace River. -A McLeod, of Skye, founded the post, and named it after the wild, -storm-swept fortalice which the chief of his race in bygone times -had reared upon the Atlantic verge. As Dunvegan was then, so it is -to-day; half a dozen little houses roofed with pine-bark; in front, the -broad river in its deep-cut gorge; behind, an abrupt ridge 700 feet -in height, at the top of which a rolling table-land spreads out into -endless distance. - -Unlike the prairies of the Saskatchewan, this plateau is thickly -interspersed with woods and thickets of pine and poplar. Its many -lakes are free from alkali, and the varied growth of willows which -they sustain, yield ample sustenance to the herds of moose which still -roam the land. The deep trough through which the river flows increases -with singular regularity as the traveller ascends the stream. Thus at -Vermilion the banks are scarcely thirty feet above low-water level; -200 miles higher up they rise to 350 feet; at Dunvegan they are 720; -and 100 miles still further west they attain an elevation of 900 and -1000 feet. Once upon the summit, however, no indication of ruggedness -meets the eye. The country spreads into a succession of prairies, -lakes, and copses, through which the traveller can ride with ease, safe -from the badger-holes which form such an objectionable feature in more -southern prairies. At times the river-bed fills up the entire bottom -of the deep valley through which it runs; but more frequently a wooded -terrace lies between the foot of the ridge and the brink of the water, -or the land rises to the upper level in a series of rounded and less -abrupt ascents. The soil is a dark sandy loam, the rocks are chiefly -lime and sandstone, and the numerous slides and huge landslips along -the lofty shores, render visible strata upon strata of many-coloured -earths and layers of rock and shingle, lignite and banded clays in rich -succession. A black, bituminous earth in many places forces its way -through rock or shingle, and runs in long, dark streaks down the steep -descent. Such is the present aspect of the Peace River, as lonely and -silent it holds its long course, deep furrowed below the unmeasured -wilderness. - -April had come; already the sun shone warmly in the mid-day hours; -already the streams were beginning to furrow the grey overhanging -hills, from whose southern sides the snow had vanished, save where in -ravine or hollow it lay deep, drifted by the winter winds; but the -river was not to be thus easily roused from the sleep into which the -Arctic cold had cast it. Solid under its weight of ice, four feet in -thickness, it would yet lie for days in motionless torpor. Snow might -fly from sky and hill-top, prairie and forest might yield to the soft -coming spring; but like a skilful general grim winter only drew off his -forces from outlying points to make his last stand in the intrenchments -of the frozen river. - -From the summit of the steep hill, whose scarped front looks down -upon the little huts of Dunvegan, the eye travels over many a mile of -wilderness, but no hill top darkens the far horizon; and the traveller, -whose steps for months have followed the western sun, feels half -inclined to doubt the reality of the mountain barrier he has so long -looked in vain for. So it seemed to me, as I scanned one evening the -long line of the western sky from this lofty ridge. - -Nineteen hundred miles behind me lay that Musk Rat Creek, by whose -banks on that now distant day in October, I had bidden civilization a -long good-bye. - -Prairie and lakelet, broad river, vast forest, dim spreading lake, -silent ridge and waste of wilderness--all lay deep sunken again in that -slumber from which my lonely passage had for a moment roused them. - -Different faces had at times accompanied me; various dogs had toiled -and tugged at the oaken sled, or lain at night around the wintry -camp-fires; and yet, still remote lay that giant range, for whose -defiles my steps had so long been bound. But amid all changes of time -and place and persons, two companions still remained with me. Cerf-vola -the Untiring, Spanker the Suspicious, still trotted as briskly as when -they had quitted their Dakotan home. If I should feel inclined to doubt -their strength and vigour, I had only to look down the hill-side to -read a reassurance--a couple of hundred feet beneath where I stood. -There Spanker the suspicious might have been observed in company with -two other savages, doing his utmost to terminate the career of a -yearling calf, which early spring had tempted to the hill-top. It was -consolatory to notice that Cerf-vola the untiring took no part in this -nefarious transaction. He stood apart, watching it with a countenance -expressive of emotions which might be read, either in the light of -condemnation of cruelty, or commendation of coming veal cutlets. - -About midnight on the 3rd of April I quitted Dunvegan, and turned once -more along the frozen river. The moon, verging to its first quarter, -shone above the southern shore, lighting half the river, while the -remainder lay wrapped in darkness. - -A half-breed named Kalder accompanied me--my former servitor having -elected to remain at Dunvegan. He had probably heard strange stories of -life beyond the mountains. “Miners were fond of shooting; to keep their -hand and eye in practice they would shoot him as soon as they caught -sight of him,” so it would perhaps be wiser to stay on the eastern -slope. He remained behind, and William Kalder, a Scotch half-breed, who -spoke French in addition to his Indian tongue, reigned in his stead. - -Above Dunvegan, the Peace is a rapid river. We decided to travel by -moonlight only, and in the morning, as many places had already become -unsound; a great quantity of water lay on the surface of the ice, and -wet mocassins and heavy snow-shoes became our constant companions. By -daybreak, however, all water would be frozen solid, and except for the -effect of the sharp ice on the dogs’ feet, the travelling was excellent -at that hour. - -At daybreak on the fourth we heard ahead a noise of barking, and -presently from the wooded shore a moose broke forth upon the river. -The crusted snow broke beneath his weight, and he turned at bay near -the southern shore. We were yet a long way off, and we hurried on as -fast as dogs could run. When we had reached within a couple of hundred -yards of where he stood butting the dogs, a shot rang sharply from the -woods; the unshapely animal still kept his head lowered to his enemies, -but the shot had struck, for as we came panting up, he rolled heavily -amidst his baying enemies, who closed around him while the blood -bubbled fast over the pure frosted snow. Above, on the wooded banks, -under a giant pine, sat a young Indian quietly regarding his quarry. -Not a move of limb or countenance betokened excitement; his face was -flushed by a long quick chase down the rugged hill-side; but now, -though his game lay stretched beneath him, he made no outward sign of -satisfaction. He sat unmoved on the rock above, his long gun balanced -above his knee--the fitting background to a picture of wild sport in -the wilderness. It was now the time when the Indians leave their winter -hunting-grounds, and make a journey to the forts with the produce -of their season’s toil. They come, a motley throng; men, women and -children; dogs, sleds and hand-tobogans, bearing the precious freight -of fur to the trading-post, bringing in the harvest of marten-skins -from the vast field of the desert wilds. - -On this morning, ere we reached our camping place, a long cavalcade -passed us. A couple of braves in front, too proud and lazy to carry -anything but their guns; then old women and young ones, bending under -their loads, or driving dogs, or hauling hand-sleds laden with meat, -furs, mooseskins, and infants. The puppy-dog and the infant never fail -in cabin or _cortége_. Sometimes one may see the two packed together -on the back of a woman, who carries besides a load of meat or skins. I -believe the term “encumbrance” has sometimes been applied to the human -portion of such a load, in circles so elevated that even the humanity -of maternity would appear to have been successfully eliminated by -civilization. If ever the term carried truth with it, it is here in -this wild northern land, where yon wretched woman bears man’s burthen -of toil as well as her own. Here the child is veritably an encumbrance; -yet in some instincts the savage mother might teach her civilized -sister a lesson of womanity. Perhaps here, while this motley cavalcade -passes along, we may step aside a moment from the track, and tell the -story of a marten. - -A couple of cotton kerchiefs, which my lady’s-maid would disdain to -be the owner of, and a couple of ten-pound bank-notes from my lady’s -purse, mark the two extremes between which lies the history of a -marten. We will endeavour to bring together these widely-severed ends. - -When the winter is at its coldest, but when the days are beginning to -lengthen out a little over the dim pine-woods of the North, the Indian -builds a small circular fence of wood, some fourteen inches high. Upon -one side this circle is left open, but across the aperture a thick -limb or thin trunk of tree is laid with one end resting on the ground. -Inside the circle a forked stick holds a small bit of fish or meat as -a bait. This forked stick is set so as to support another small piece -of wood, upon which in turn rests the half-uplifted log. Pull the -baited stick, and you let slip the small supporting one, which in turn -lets fall the large horizontal log. Thus runs the sequence. It is a -guillotine, with a tree instead of a sharp knife; it is called a “dead -fall.” Numbers of them are erected in the woods, where martens’ tracks -are plentiful in the snow. Well, then, the line of “dead falls” being -made and set, the Indian departs, and silence reigns in the forest. But -once a week he starts forth to visit this line of “dead falls,” which -may be ten or fifteen miles in length. - -Every now and again he finds one of his guillotines down, and -underneath it lies a small, thick-furred animal, in size something -larger than a ferret, something smaller than a cat. It is needless -to describe the colour of the animal; from childhood upwards it is -familiar to us. Most persons can recall the figure of maiden aunt -or stately visitor, muffed, cuffed, boa’d and pelissed, in all the -splendour of her sables. Our little friend under the dead fall is none -other than the sable--the marten of North America, the sable of Siberia. - -A hundred miles away from the nearest fort this marten has been -captured. When the snow and ice begin to show symptoms of softening, -the Indian packs his furs together, and sets out, as we have seen, for -the fort. There are, perhaps, five or six families together; the squaws -and dogs are heavy laden, and the march is slow and toilsome. All the -household gods have to be carried along. The leather tent, the battered -copper kettle, the axe, the papoose strapped in the moss bag, the two -puppy-dogs, yet unable to shift for themselves, the snow-shoes for -hunting, the tattered blanket, the dry meat; it makes a big load, all -told; and squaw and dog toil along with difficulty under it. The brave -of course goes before, deigning only to carry his gun, and not always -doing even that; the wife is but as a dog to him. - -Well, day by day the party moves along till the fort is reached. Then -comes the trade. The fifty or a hundred marten-skins are handed over: -the debt of the past year is cancelled, partly or wholly; and advances -are taken for the coming season. - -The wild man’s first thought is for the little one,--a child’s white -capôte, strouds or blanketing for tiny backs, a gaudy handkerchief for -some toddling papoose. After that the shot and powder, the flints and -ball for his own use; and lastly, the poor wife gets something for -her share. She has managed to keep a couple of deer-skins for her own -perquisite, and with these she derives a little pin-money. - -It would be too long to follow the marten-skin through its many -vicissitudes--how it changes from hand to hand, each time more than -doubling its price, until at length some stately dowager spends more -guineas upon it than its original captor realized pence for it. - -Many a time have I met these long processions, sometimes when I have -been alone on the march, and at others when my followers were around -me; each time there was the inevitable hand-shaking, the good-humoured -laughing, the magic word “thé;” a few matches, and a plug or two of -tobacco given, and we separated. How easily they were made happy! And -now and again among them would be seen a poor crippled Indian, maimed -by fall from horse or shot from gun, hobbling along with the women in -the rear of the straggling _cortége_, looking for all the world like a -wild bird with a broken wing. - -The spring was now rapidly approaching, and each day made some change -in the state of the ice. The northern bank was quite clear of snow; the -water on the river grew daily deeper, and at night the ice cracked and -groaned as we walked upon it, as though the sleeping giant had begun to -stir and stretch himself previous to his final waking. - -On the morning of the 7th of April we passed the site of an old fort on -the northern shore. I turned aside to examine it. Rank weeds and grass -covered a few mounds, and faint traces of a fireplace could be still -discerned. Moose-tracks were numerous around. - -Just fifty years earlier, this old spot had been the scene of a -murderous attack. - -In the grey of the morning, a small band of Beaver Indians approached -the fort, and shot its master and four men; a few others escaped in a -canoe, leaving Fort St. John’s to its fate. It was immediately burned -down, and the forest has long since claimed it as its own. In the -phraseology of the period, this attack was said to have been made by -the Indians in revenge for a series of “wife-lifting” which had been -carried on against them by the denizens of the fort. History saith -no more, but it is more than probable that this dangerous method of -levying “black _female_” was thereafter discontinued by the Highland -fur-traders. - -We camped not far from the ruined fort, and next night drew near our -destination. It was full time. The ice was rapidly going, and already -in places dark, treacherous holes showed grimly through to the rushing -water beneath. - -The dogs were all lame, and Cerf-vola had to be regularly put in boots -previous to starting. Still, lame or sound, he always travelled just -the same. When his feet were very sore, he would look around now and -again for assistance; but if none was forthcoming he bent himself -resolutely to the task, and with down-bent head toiled at his collar. -Others might tire, others might give out, but he might truly say,-- - - “Dogs may come, and dogs may go, - But I go on for ever, - Ever, ever, I go on for ever.” - -Before daybreak on the 8th we stopped for the usual cup of tea and -bite of pemmican. The night was dark and overcast. Beside us a huge -pile of driftwood lay heaped above the ice. We fired it in many places -before starting, and then set out for our last dog-march. The flames -rose high through the dry timber, and a long line of light glowed and -quivered upon the ice. We were soon far away from it. Day broke; a -thick rain began to fall; dogs and men sunk deep in the slushy snow. -“Go on, good old Cerf-vola! A little more, and your weary journey -will be over; a little more, and the last mile of this 1400 will have -been run; a little more, and the collar will be taken from your worn -shoulders for the last long time!” - -At the bend of the Peace River, where a lofty ridge runs out from -the southern side, and the hills along the northern shore rise to -nearly 1000 feet above the water, stands the little fort of St. John. -It is a remote spot, in a land which is itself remote. From out the -plain to the west, forty or fifty miles away, great snowy peaks rise -up against the sky. To the north and south and east all is endless -wilderness--wilderness of pine and prairie, of lake and stream--of all -the vast inanity of that moaning waste which sleeps between the Bay of -Hudson and the Rocky Mountains. - -So far have we journeyed through that land; here we shall rest awhile. -The time of winter travel has drawn to its close; the ice-road has done -its work; the dogs may lie down and rest; for those great snowy peaks -are the Rocky Mountains. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - The wild animals of the Peace River.--Indian method of hunting - the moose.--Twa-poos.--The beaver.--The bear.--Bear’s - butter.--A bear’s hug and how it ended.--Fort St. John.-- - The river awakes.--A rose without a thorn.--Nigger Dan.-- - A threatening letter.--I issue a Judicial Memorandum.-- - Its effect is all that could be desired.--Working up the - Peace River. - - -Three animals have made their homes on the shores of the Peace River -and its tributaries. They are the bear, the moose, and the beaver. All -are valuable to the Indian for their flesh, fur, or skin; all come to -as great perfection here as in any part of the American continent. - -The first and last named go to sleep in the long winter months, but the -moose still roams the woods and willow banks, feeding with his flesh -the forts and the Indians along the entire river. About 100 full-grown -moose had been consumed during the winter months at the four posts -we have lately passed, in fresh meat alone. He is a huge animal; his -carcase will weigh from three to six hundred pounds; yet an ordinary -half-breed will devour him in little more than a month. - -Between four and five hundred moose are annually eaten at the forts of -the Peace River; four times that number are consumed by the Indians, -but the range of the animal is vast, the hunters are comparatively few, -and to-day there are probably as many moose in Peace River as there -were fifty years ago. - -Athabasca trades to-day the skins of nearly 2000 moose in a single -year. Few animals are more unshapely than this giant deer. His neck -slopes down from the shoulder, ending in a head as large as a horse--a -head which ends in a nose curled like a camel’s--a nose delicious to -the taste, but hideous to the eye. The ears are of enormous length. -Yet, ugly as are the nose and ears of the moose, they are his chief -means of protection against his enemy, and in that great ungainly head -there lurks a brain of marvellous cunning. It is through nose and ears -that this cunning brain is duly prompted to escape danger. - -_No man save the Indian, or the half-Indian_, can hunt the moose with -chance of success. - -I am aware that a host of Englishmen and Canadians will exclaim -against this, but nevertheless it is perfectly true. Hunting the moose -in summer and winter is one thing--killing him in a snow-yard, or -running him down in deep snow is another. The two methods are as widely -different as killing a salmon which another man has hooked for you is -different from rising, hooking, playing, and gaffing one yourself. - -To hunt the moose requires years of study. Here is the little game -which his instinct teaches him. When the early morning has come, he -begins to think of lying down for the day. He has been feeding on the -grey and golden willow-tops as he walked leisurely along. His track is -marked in the snow or soft clay; he carefully retraces his footsteps, -and, breaking off suddenly to the leeward side, lies down a gunshot -from his feeding-track. He knows he must get the wind of any one -following his trail. - -In the morning “Twa-poos,” or the Three Thumbs, sets forth to look -for a moose; he hits the trail and follows it; every now and again he -examines the broken willow-tops or the hoof-marks, when experience -tells him that the moose has been feeding here during the early night. -Twa-poos quits the trail, bending away in a deep circle to leeward; -stealthily he returns to the trail, and as stealthily bends away again -from it. He makes as it were the semicircles of the letter B, supposing -the perpendicular line to indicate the trail of the moose; at each -return to it he examines attentively the willows, and judges his -proximity to the game. - -At last he is so near that he knows for an absolute certainty that -the moose is lying in a thicket a little distance ahead. Now comes -the moment of caution. He divests himself of every article of -clothing which might cause the slightest noise in the forest; even -his moccassins are laid aside; and then, on a pointed toe which a -ballet-girl might envy, he goes forward for the last stalk. Every -bush is now scrutinized, every thicket examined. See! he stops all at -once! You who follow him look, and look in vain; you can see nothing. -He laughs to himself, and points to yon willow covert. No, there is -nothing there. He noiselessly cocks his gun. You look again and again, -but can see nothing; then Twa-poos suddenly stretches out his hand and -breaks a little dry twig from an overhanging branch. In an instant, -right in front, thirty or forty yards away, an immense dark-haired -animal rises up from the willows. He gives one look in your direction, -and that look is his _last_. Twa-poos has fired, and the moose is -either dead in his thicket or within a few hundred yards of it. - -One word now about this sense of hearing possessed by the moose. The -most favourable day for hunting is in wild windy weather, when the dry -branches of the forest crack in the gale. Nevertheless, Indians have -assured me that, on such days, when they have sighted a moose, they -have broken a dry stick; and although many branches were waving and -cracking in the woods, the animal started at the sound--distinguishing -it from the natural noises of the forest. - -But although the moose are still as numerous on Peace River as they -were in days far removed from the present, there is another animal -which has almost wholly disappeared. - -The giant form of the wood-buffalo no longer darkens the steep lofty -shores. When first Mackenzie beheld the long reaches of the river, -the “gentle lawns” which alternated with “abrupt precipices” were -“enlivened” by vast herds of buffaloes. This was in 1793. Thirty-three -years later, Sir George Simpson also ascended the river with his -matchless Iroquois crew. Yet no buffalo darkened the lofty shores. - -What destroyed them in that short interval? The answer is not difficult -to seek--deep snow. The buffalo grazes on the grass, the moose browses -on the tall willows. During one winter of exceptionally deep snow, -eighty buffaloes were killed in a single day in the vicinity of -Dunvegan. The Indians ran them into the snowdrifts, and then despatched -them with knives. - -It is still a matter of dispute whether the wood-buffalo is the -same species as his namesake of the southern plains; but it is -generally believed by the Indians that he is of a kindred race. He is -nevertheless larger, darker, and wilder; and although the northern -land, in which he is still found, abounds in open prairies and small -plains, he nevertheless seeks in preference the thickest woods. Whether -he be of the plain race or not, one thing is certain--his habits vary -much from his southern cousin. The range of the wood-buffalo is much -farther north than is generally believed. There are scattered herds -even now on the banks of the Liard River as far as sixty-one degrees of -north latitude. - -The earth had never elsewhere such an accumulation of animal life as -this northern continent must have exhibited some five or six centuries -ago, when, from the Great Slave Lake to the Gulf of Florida, millions -upon millions of bisons roamed the wilderness. - -Have we said enough of animals, or can we spare a few words to the -bears and the beavers? Of all the animals which the New World gave -to man the beaver was the most extraordinary. His cunning surpassed -that of the fox; his skill was greater than that of the honey-bee; his -patience was more enduring than the spider’s; his labour could turn -the waters of a mighty river, and change the face of an entire country. -He could cut down forests, and build bridges; he dwelt in a house -with rooms, a common hall and a neat doorway in it. He could fell a -forest tree in any direction he pleased, or carry it on his back when -his sharp teeth had lopped its branches. He worked in companies, with -a master beaver at the head of each--companies from whose ranks an -idle or a lazy beaver was ignominiously expelled. He dwelt along the -shores of quiet lakes, or by the margins of rushing streams, and silent -majestic rivers, far in the heart of the solitude. - -But there came a time when men deemed his soft, dark skin a fitting -covering for their heads; and wild men hunted him out in his lonely -home. They trapped him from Texas to the Great Bear Lake; they hunted -him in the wildest recesses of the Rocky Mountains; rival companies -went in pursuit of him. In endeavouring to cover the heads of others, -hundreds of trappers lost their own head-covering; the beaver brought -many a white man’s scalp to the red man’s lodge-pole; and many a red -man’s life went out with the beaver’s. In the West he became well-nigh -extinct, in the nearer North he became scarce; yet here in Peace River -he held his own against all comers. Nigh 30,000 beavers die annually -along its shores, and when spring opens its waters the night is ever -broken by the dull plunge of countless beavers in the pools and eddies -of the great river. - -Along the lofty shores of the Peace River the Saskootum berry grows in -vast quantities. In August its fruit is ripe, and the bears come forth -to enjoy it; black, brown, and grizzly, stalk along the shores and -hill-sides browsing on this luscious berry. On such food Bruin grows -fat and unwieldy; he becomes “sleek-headed” and “sleeps of nights,” -thus falling an easy prey to his hunter. - -While he was alive he loved the “poire” berries, and now when he is -dead the red man continues the connexion, and his daintiest morsel is -the bear’s fat and Saskootum berries mixed with powdered moose-meat. -It is the dessert of a Peace River feast; the fat, white as cream, -is eaten in large quantities, and although at first a little of it -suffices, yet after a while one learns to like it, and the dried -Saskootum and “bear’s butter” becomes a luxury. - -But fat or lean, the grizzly bear is a formidable antagonist. Few -Indians will follow him alone to his lair; his strength is enormous, he -can kill and carry a buffalo-bull; were he as active as he is strong -it is probable that he would stand as the most dangerous animal on -the earth. But his movements are comparatively slow, and his huge form -is upraised upon its hind legs before he grapples his adversary. Woe -to that adversary should those great fore-paws ever encircle him. Once -only have I known a man live to tell the tale of that embrace: his -story was a queer one. He had been attacked from behind, he had only -time to fire his gun into the bear’s chest when the monster grasped -him. The Indian never lost his power of thought; he plunged his left -arm into the brute’s throat, and caught firm hold of the tongue; with -his right hand he drove his hunting-knife into ribs and side; his arm -and hand were mangled, his sides were gashed and torn, but the grizzly -lay dead before him. - -The fort of St. John, on the Upper Peace River, is a very tumble-down -old place; it stands on the south shore of the river, some thirty feet -above high-water level; close behind its ruined buildings the ridges -rise 1000 feet, steep and pine-clad; on the opposite shore bare grassy -hills lift their thicket-fringed faces nearly to the same elevation; -the river, in fact, runs at the bottom of a very large V-shaped trough -900 feet below the prairie-plateau. Between the base of the hill and -the bank of the river lies a tract of wooded and sheltered land, from -whose groves of birch, poplar, and pines the loud “drumming” of -innumerable partridges now gave token of the coming spring. Yes, we -had travelled into the spring--our steps and these never-tiring dogs -had carried us farther and quicker than time. It was only the second -week in April, and already the earth began to soften; the forest smelt -of last year’s leaves and of this year’s buds; the rills spoke, and -the wild duck winged along the river channels. During the whole of -the second week of April the days were soft and warm; rain fell in -occasional showers; at daybreak my thermometer showed only 3° or 4° -of frost, and in the afternoon stood at 50° to 60° in the shade. From -the 15th to the 20th the river, which had hitherto held aloof from -all advances of the spring, began to show many symptoms of yielding -to her soft entreaties. Big tears rose at times upon his iron face -and flowed down his frosted cheeks; his great heart seemed to swell -within him, and ominous groans broke from his long-silent bosom. At -night he recovered himself a little, and looked grim and rigid in -the early morning; but, at last, spring, and shower, and sun, and -stream were too much for him--all his children were already awake, and -prattling, and purling, and pulling at him, and shaking him to open his -long-closed eyelids, to look once more at the blue and golden summer. -It was the 20th of April. But the rose of spring had its thorn too -(what rose has not?), and with bud, and sun, and shower came the first -mosquito on this same 20th of April. He was a feeble insect, and hummed -around in a mournful sort of manner, not at all in keeping with the -glowing prospect before him. He had a whole long summer of stinging in -prospective; “the winter of his discontent” was over, and yet there was -nothing hilarious in his hum. I have made a slight error in repeating -the old saying, that “no rose is without its thorn,” for there is just -one--it is the primrose. But there were other thorns than mosquitoes in -store for the denizens of this isolated spot, called St. John’s, in the -wilderness. - -On the north shore of the river, directly facing the tumble-down fort, -a new log-house was in course of erection by the Hudson’s Bay Company. -Work moves slowly in the North, and this log-house lay long unfinished. -One fine day a canoe came floating down the lonely river; it held a -solitary negro--pioneer, cook, trapper, vagrant, idler, or squatter, as -chance suited him. This time the black paddler determined to squat by -the half-finished log-house of the Company. Four years earlier he had -dwelt for a season on this same spot. There were dark rumours afloat -about him; he had killed his man it was averred; nay, he had repeated -the pastime, and killed two men. He had robbed several mining shanties, -and had to shift his residence more than once beyond the mountains on -account of his mode of life. Altogether Nigger Dan, as he was called, -bore an indifferent reputation among the solitary white man and his -half-breed helpers at the post of St. John’s. By the Indians he was -regarded as something between a beaver and an American bear, and, had -his head been tradeable as a matter of fur, I believe they would have -trapped him to a certainty. But despite the hostile feelings of the -entire community, Nigger Dan held stout possession of his shanty, and -claimed, in addition to his hut, all the land adjoining it, as well as -the Hudson’s Bay Fort in course of erection. From his lair he issued -manifestoes of a very violent nature. He planted stakes in the ground -along the river-bank, upon which he painted in red ochre hieroglyphics -of a menacing character. At night he could be heard across the silent -river indulging in loud and uncalled-for curses, and at times he varied -this employment by reciting portions of the Bible in a pitch of voice -and accent peculiar to gentlemen of colour. On the 12th of April, four -days after my arrival at St. John’s, my young host was the recipient of -the following ultimatum. I copy it verbatim:-- - - _April 12._ - - KENEDY I hear by - Worne you that Com and Gett your - persnol property if eny you - have Got of my prmeeis In 24 hours And then keep away - from me because I shal Not betrubbld Nor trod on - only by her most Noble - Majesty - Government - (Sgd) D. T. WILLIAMS. - -On the back appeared,-- - - I have wated longe A-day for an ancer from that Notis you toer - Down and now It is my turn to tore down ---- ---- - -Although the spirit of loyalty which breathed through the latter -portion of this document was most admirable, it is nevertheless matter -for regret that Dan’s views of the subject of “persnol property” -were not those of a law-abiding citizen; unfortunately for me, both -the Hudson’s Bay claimant and the negro occupant appealed to me in -support of their rival rights. What was to be done? It is true that -by virtue of a commission conferred upon me some years earlier I had -been elevated to the lofty title of justice of the peace for Rupert’s -Land and the North-West Territories, my brother justices consisting, -I believe, of two Hudson Bay officials and three half-breed buffalo -runners, whose collective wisdom was deemed amply sufficient to -dispense justice over something like two million square miles. -Nevertheless, it occurred to me that this matter of disputed ownership -was one outside even the wide limits of my jurisdiction. To admit such -want of jurisdiction would never have answered. “Rupert’s Land and -the North-West” carried with them a sense of vast indefinite power, -that if it were once shaken by an admission of non-competency, two -million square miles, containing a population of one twenty-fourth of -a wild man to each square mile, might have instantly become a prey to -chaotic crime. Feeling the inutility of my lofty office to deal with -the matters in question, I decided upon adopting a middle course, one -which I have every reason to believe upheld the full majesty of the law -in the eyes of the eight representatives of the Canadian, African, and -American races of man, now assembled around me. I therefore issued a -document which ran thus:-- - - JUDICIAL MEMORANDUM. - - Various circumstances having occurred in the neighbourhood - of the Hudson’s Bay Fort, known as St. John’s, on the Peace - River, of a nature to lead to the assumption that a breach of - the peace is liable to arise out of the question of disputed - ownership, in a plot of land on the north shore of the river, - on which the Hudson’s Bay Company have erected buildings to - serve as their future place of business, and on which it is - asserted one Daniel Williams, a person of colour, formerly - lived, this is to notify all persons concerned in this - question, that no belief of ownership, no former or present - possession, will be held in any way to excuse or palliate the - slightest infringement of the law, or to sanction any act of - violence being committed, or to occasion any threats being made - use of by any of the said parties which might lead to a breach - of the peace. - - Executed by me, as Justice of the Peace for Rupert’s Land and - the North-West, this 22nd day of April, 1873. - - Signed, &c., &c. - - -I claim for this memorandum or manifesto some slight degree of praise. -It bears, I think, a striking analogy to diplomatic documents, for -which of late years the British Government has been conspicuous in -times of grave foreign complications; but in one important respect -my judicial memorandum was very much more successful than any of the -political papers upon which it was framed; for whereas they had been -received by the respective belligerents to whom they had been addressed -in a manner not at all flattering to our national dignity, my very -lucid statement that, diplomatically speaking, two and two made four, -had a marked impression on the minds of my audience. - -On the one hand, I clearly pointed out that murder, arson, and robbery -were not singly or collectively in unison with the true interpretation -of British law; and on the other, I carefully abstained from giving any -indication of what would result from the infringement of that law in -the persons of any of the belligerents. - -I have reason to believe that the negro Bismarck was deeply impressed -by the general tenour of the document; and that a lengthened perusal of -the word “executed,” in the last sentence, carried with it a sense of -profound strangulation under which he long laboured. - -And now it was time to think of moving again towards the setting sun. - -Many months of travel had carried me across the great plateau of the -North to this spot, where from the pine-clad plain arose the white -ridges of the Rocky Mountains. Before me lay a land of alps, a realm of -mountain peaks and gloomy cañons, where in countless valleys, unseen by -the eye of man, this great Peace River had its distant source. In snow -that lasts the live-long year these mountain summits rest; but their -sides early feel the influence of the summer sun, and from the thousand -valleys crystal streams rush forth to swell the majestic current of the -great river, and to send it foaming in mighty volume to the distant -Athabasca. - -At such a time it is glorious work for the _voyageur_ to launch his -cotton-wood canoe on the rushing water and glance down the broad bosom -of the river. His paddle lies idle in the water, or is used only to -steer the swift-flying craft; and when evening darkens over the lofty -shores, he lights his camp-fire full half a hundred miles from his -starting-point of the morning. - -But if it be idle, easy work to run down the river at its summer level, -what arduous toil it is to ascend it during the same season! Bit by -bit, little by little, the upward way must be won; with paddle, with -pole, with line dragged along shore and pulled round tree-stump or -projecting boulder; until evening finds the toiler often not three -river reaches from his starting-point. - -When the river finally breaks up, and the ice has all passed away, -there is a short period when the waters stand at a low level; the sun -is not yet strong enough to melt the snow quickly, and the frosts at -night are still sharp in the mountain valleys. The river then stands -ten feet below its level of mid-June; this period is a short one, and -not an hour must be lost by the _voyageur_ who would gain the benefit -of the low water in the earlier days of May. - -Seventy miles higher up the Peace River stands a solitary house called -Hudson’s Hope. It marks the spot where the river first emerges from the -cañon of the Rocky Mountains, and enters the plain country. A trail, -passable for horses, leads along the north shore of the river to this -last trading-post of the Hudson’s Bay Company on the verge of the -mountains. Along this trail I now determined to continue my journey, -so as to gain the west side of the Great Cañon before the ice had left -the river, and thus reap the advantage of the low water in ascending -still farther into the mountains. - -It is no easy matter to place an exact picture of the topography of a -country before a reader: we must, however, endeavour to do so. - -Some fifty miles west of St. John, the Peace River issues from the -cañon through which it passes the outer range of the Rocky Mountains. -No boat, canoe, or craft of any kind has ever run the gauntlet of this -huge chasm; for five-and-thirty miles it lies deep sunken through the -mountains; while from its depths there ever rises the hoarse roar of -the angry waters as they dash furiously against their rocky prison. A -trail of ten miles leads across this portage, and at the western end -of this trail the river is reached close to where it makes its first -plunge into the rock-hewn chasm. At this point the traveller stands -within the outer range of the mountains, and he has before him a broad -river, stretching far into a region of lofty peaks, a river with strong -but even current, flowing between banks 200 to 300 yards apart. Around -great mountains lift up their heads dazzling with the glare of snow, -10,000 feet above the water which carries his frail canoe. - -It was through this pass that I now proposed to journey westward -towards the country which lies between the Pacific Ocean, Alaska, and -the multitudinous mountains of Central British Columbia, a land but -little known; a vast alpine region, where, amidst lakes and mountains -nature reigns in loneliness and cloud. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - Start from St. John’s.--Crossing the ice.--Batiste La - Fleur.--Chimeroo.--The last wood-buffalo.--A dangerous - weapon.--Our raft collapses.--Across the Half-way River. - - -The 22nd of April had come. For some days we were engaged at St. John’s -in preparing supplies for the ascent of the river, and in catching and -bringing in from the prairie the horses which were to carry me to the -point of embarcation at the west end of the cañon; the snow had nearly -all disappeared from the level prairie. The river opposite the fort -was partly open, but some distance below a bridge of ice yet remained, -and on the 20th we moved our horses across this connecting link to the -north shore. The night of the 20th made a serious change in the river, -and when the 22nd came, it was doubtful whether we should be able to -cross without mishap. - -From the fort of St. John’s to the gold mines on the Ominica River was -some twenty or thirty days’ travel, and as no supplies were obtainable -_en route_, save such as my gun might afford, it became necessary to -carry a considerable quantity of moose pemmican and dry meat, the sole -luxuries which St. John’s could boast of. - -By the 22nd all preparations were declared complete, and we began -to cross the river over the doubtful ice-bridge. First went two men -dragging a dog-sled, on which was piled the stores and provisions for -the journey; next came old Batiste La Fleur, who was to accompany me as -far as the Half-way River, a torrent which we would have to raft across -on the second day of our journey. - -Batiste carried a long pole, with which he sounded the ice previous -to stepping upon it. I brought up the rear, also carrying a pole, and -leading by a long line the faithful Cerf-vola. Spanker and his six -companions here passed from my hands, and remained at St. John’s to -idle through the approaching summer, and then to take their places as -Hudson Bay hauling-dogs; but for Cerf-vola there was to be no more -hauling, his long and faithful service had at length met its reward, -and the untiring Esquimaux was henceforth to lounge through life -collarless and comfortable. - -Coasting down along the shore-ice we reached the crossing-point, and -put out into the mid-river; once on the dangerous part, there was no -time to think whether it was safe or not. A Salteaux Indian, dragging -the sled, went in, but light and quick as thought he dragged himself -from the ice and sped along its yielding surface. Below rumbled the -river, and in the open places its dark waters gurgled up and over the -crumbling ice. Only a narrow tongue of ice spanned the central current; -we crossed it with nothing worse than wet feet and legs, and to me a -dislocated thumb, and then we breathed freer on the farther side. - -Loading the horses with luggage and provisions, I bade good-bye to my -host, and we turned our faces towards the steep north shore. The day -was gloriously bright. The hill up which the horses scrambled for a -thousand feet was blue with wild anemones; spring was in the earth and -in the air. Cerf-vola raced in front, with tail so twisted over his -back that it threatened to dislocate his spine in a frantic attempt -to get in front of his nose. The earth, bare of snow, gave forth a -delicious fragrance, which one drank with infinite delight after the -long, long scentless winter; and over the white river below, and the -pine forest beyond, summer, dressed in blue sky and golden sunbeam, -came moving gently up on the wing of the soft south wind. - -We reached the summit. Below lay a long line of frosted river; the -little fort, dwarfed by distance, the opposing ridges, the vast -solitude, and beyond all, snow-white against the western sky, the -peaks and pinnacles of nameless mountains. Through varied prairie and -wooded country, and across many a rushing brook, deep hidden in tangled -brake and thicket, we held our way on that bright spring afternoon; -and evening found us on a bare and lofty ridge, overlooking the valley -of the Peace River. Batiste had lived his life in these solitudes, -and knew the name of creek and prairie, and the history (for even the -wilderness has a history) of each hill or widespread meadow. - -The beautiful prairie which lay beneath our camping-place was -Chimeroo’s prairie, and the great ridge of rock which frowned above it -was also Chimeroo’s; and away there where the cleft appeared in the -hills to the north, that was where Chimeroo’s river came out to join -the Peace. In fact, Chimeroo played such a conspicuous part in the -scenery that one naturally asked, Who was Chimeroo? - -“Chimeroo! Oh, he is a Beaver Indian; he lived here for a long time, -and he killed the last wood-buffalo in yonder valley, just three years -ago.” - -The last of his race had wandered down from the banks of the Liard, -and Chimeroo had struck his trail, and followed him to the death. - -When twilight fell, that peculiar orange light of the American -wilderness lay long in the west. Against this vivid colour, Chimeroo’s -hill stood out in inky profile the perfect image of a colossal face. -Forehead, nose, lips, and chin seemed cut in the huge rock, and, like a -monstrous sphinx, looked blankly over the solitude. - -“It is the head of Chimeroo,” I said to Batiste; “see, he looks over -his dominions.” We were perched upon a bare hill-top, many hundred feet -above the river. The face rose between us and the west, some three -miles distant; the head, thrown slightly back, seemed to look vacantly -out on the waste of night and wilderness, while a long beard (the lower -part of the ridge) descended into the darkness. Gradually day drew off -his orange curtain from the horizon, and ere the darkness had blotted -out the huge features of Chimeroo, we slept upon our lonely hill-top. - -Pursuing our journey on the morrow, we descended to the river, and held -our way over Chimeroo’s prairie, passing beneath the lofty ridge, whose -outline had assumed the image of a human face. - -About mid-day we reached the banks of Chimeroo’s river, which, being -flooded, we forded, and, climbing its steep north shore, halted for -dinner. It would not be easy to exaggerate the beauty of the country -through which the trail had carried us, or the sensation of rest which -came to one as, looking out over the landscape, the fair spring scene -stole insensibly on the mind. Everywhere the blue anemone, like a -huge primrose, looked up to the bluer sky; butterflies fluttered in -the clear, pure air; partridges drummed in the budding thickets. The -birch-trees and willows were putting forth their flowers, precursors -of the leaves so soon to follow. The long-hushed rippling of the -streams fell on the ear like music heard after lapse of time; and -from the blue depths of sky at times fell the cry of the wild goose, -as with scarce-moving wing he held his way in long waving _w_‘s to -his summer home. Chimeroo’s prairie was golden with the long grass of -the old year. Chimeroo’s hill glistened in the bright sun of the new -spring; and winter, driven from the lower earth, had taken refuge in -the mountains, where his snow-white flag of surrender floated out from -crag and cliff, high above the realm of pines. Such a scene as this, -might the first man have beheld when he looked over the virgin earth. -It was far too fine a day to work: we would rest. Batiste La Fleur knew -of a lake not far off, and we would go to it and spend the evening in -hunting beaver and wild ducks; so we put the saddles on and journeyed -slowly to Batiste’s paradise. - -Through many a devious path and tortuous way did Batiste guide us, -until his hunting-ground was gained. On a knoll we made our camp; and -while Kalder remained to look after it, Batiste and I sallied forth to -hunt. - -Batiste’s gun was an excellent weapon, were it not for a tendency to -burst about the left barrel. This was made observable by two or more -ominous bulges towards the centre of the piece; but Batiste appeared -to have unlimited confidence in the integrity of his weapon, and -explained that these blemishes were only the result of his having on -two or three occasions placed a bullet over a charge of shot, and then -directed the united volley against the person of a beaver. When loading -this gun, Batiste had a risky method of leaning it against his chest -while drawing a charge of shot from his shot-bag. I pointed out to him -that this was not a safe method of loading, as it was quite possible -the other barrel might explode while the gun thus rested against his -side. It was true, he said, for only last year the gun under similar -treatment had exploded, carrying away the brim of his hat, and causing -no slight alarm to the rest of his person. - -Our success that afternoon was not great; ducks and geese but lately -arrived from the peopled south were yet wild and wary, and had not -learned to look on man in any light save that of an enemy; and -altogether Batiste’s hunter’s paradise did not justify his glowing -accounts of it. To do him justice, however, it must be stated that the -wet ground was literally ploughed up with moose-tracks; and the golden -willows lay broken down and bruised by the many animals which had -browsed upon them during the winter. - -It was mid-day on the 24th of April when we reached the banks of the -Half-way River, whose current, swollen by the melting snow, rolled -swiftly from the north, between banks piled high with ice-floe. This -was the first serious obstacle to the journey, and as soon as dinner -was over we set to work to overcome it. From a neighbouring grove of -pines Kalder and Batiste got dry trees; half a dozen of these lashed -together formed the groundwork of a raft. Three other pine-trees tied -on top completed the craft, and with a long pole and a rough paddle, -all fashioned by the axe, the preparations were declared finished. This -craft was put together in a sheltered part of the river; and when all -was completed, the goods and chattels were placed upon it. But one more -piece of work remained to be accomplished ere we set sail upon our -raft--the horses had to be crossed. By dint of driving and shouting we -forced them across the boulders of ice into the water. It was cold as -ice, and they stood knee-deep, afraid to venture farther. But Kalder -was a very demon when work had to be done. In an instant he was across -the ice-floe, and upon the back of one of the horses; then with knees -and hands and voice and heels he urged the brute into the flood. The -horse reared and snorted and plunged, but Kalder sat him like the -half-breed that he was, and in another second, horse and rider plunged -wildly into the torrent. Down they went out of sight, and when they -reappeared the horse was striking out for the far shore, and Kalder was -grappling with the projecting ice. The other horses soon followed their -leader, and all four went swimming down the current. Gradually the back -eddy near the farther shore caught them, and, touching ground, they -disappeared in the forest. Now came our turn to cross. We towed the -crazy raft up the bordering ice, and, mooring her for a moment in an -eddy, took our places on the upper logs. Scarcely had we put out from -the shore than the fastening gave way, and the whole fabric threatened -instant collapse. We got her back to the eddy, repaired the damage, and -once more put out. Our weight and baggage sunk us down, so that the -body of the raft was quite submerged, and only the three trees on top -showed above the water; upon these we crouched. Old Batiste waved a -good-bye. Kalder was at the bow with a pole. I worked a paddle on the -stern. Once out of the sheltering eddy, the current smote our unwieldy -platform, and away we went. Another instant and the pole failed to -reach the bottom. With might and main I worked the paddle; down we -shot, and across; but ten yards down to every one across. Would we save -the eddy? that was the question; for if we missed it, there was nought -to stay our wild career. Far as eye could reach, the current ran wild -and red. For an anxious minute we rushed down the stream, and then the -eddy caught us, and we spun round like a teetotum. “The other side!” -roared Kalder; and to the other side went the paddle to keep us in the -eddy. Then we headed for the shore; and, ere the current could catch us -again, Kalder was breast-deep in the water, holding on with might and -main to the raft. - -We were across the Half-way River. To unload the raft, build a fire, to -dry our wet garments, and shout good-bye to old Batiste, who stood on -an ice boulder, anxiously watching our fortunes from the shore we had -quitted, took us but a short time. - -The horses were captured and saddled, and, ascending through tangled -forest into a terraced land of rich-rolling prairies, we pushed on -briskly towards the west. - -Thus, trotting through a park-like land of wood and glade and meadow, -where the jumping deer glanced through the dry grass and trees, we -gradually drew near the Rocky Mountains. At times the trail led up the -steep face of the outer hill to the plateau above, and then a rich view -would lie beneath--a view so vast with the glories of the snowy range, -and so filled with nearer river and diamond-shaped island, that many a -time I drew rein upon some lofty standpoint to look, as one looks upon -things which we would fain carry away into the memory of an after-time. - -About the middle of the afternoon of the 25th of April we emerged from -a wood of cypress upon an open space, beneath which ran the Peace -River. At the opposite side a solitary wooden house gave token of life -in the wilderness. The greater part of the river was still fast frozen, -but along the nearer shore ran a current of open water. The solitary -house was the Hope of Hudson! - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - Hudson’s Hope.--A lover of literature.--Crossing the Peace.--An - unskilful pilot.--We are upset.--Our rescue.--A strange - variety of arms.--The Buffalo’s Head.--A glorious view. - - -Dismounting from our tired horses, we loosened saddles and bridles, -hobbled the two fore-legs together, and turned them adrift in the -forest. Then we _cached_ our baggage in the trees, for wolves were -plentiful around, and a grey wolf has about as extensive a bill of -fare in the matter of man’s clothing and appointments as any animal in -creation, except perhaps a monkey. - -In my early days, in Burmah and India I once possessed a rare -specimen of the last-named genus, who, when he found the opportunity, -beautifully illustrated his descent from the lower orders of man by -devouring a three-volume novel in less time than any young lady of -the period could possibly accomplish it. He never knew a moment’s -starvation as long as he had a photograph album to appease his -insatiable love of literature. But to proceed:-- - -By the time we had _cached_ our baggage, two men had come forth from -the house on the other side of the river, and started out upon the ice, -dragging a very small canoe; when they reached the open water at our -side, they launched their craft and paddled across to the shore; then, -ascending the hill, they joined us at the cache. - -Their news was soon told; the river was open at the west end of the -portage (ten miles away). Jacques Pardonet, a French miner, who had -been trapping during the winter, was about to start for the mines on -the Ominica River; he was now patching up an old canoe which he had -found stranded on the shore, and when it was ready he would be off: for -the rest, no Indians had come in for a very long time, and moose meat -was at a very low ebb in Hudson’s Hope. - -We descended to the river, and Kalder and Charette (a half-breed in -charge of the fort) crossed first in the beaver canoe; it was much too -small to carry us all. When they had disembarked safely on the ice, -they fastened a long line to the bow of the canoe and shoved her off to -our side; as she neared our shore she was caught by an English miner -who had been living with Charette for some days, and whom I had engaged -to accompany me to the mines. He had declared himself a proficient in -the art of canoeing, and I was now about to experience my first example -of his prowess. - -We took our places and shoved from the shore. I lay low in the canoe, -with legs stretched under the narrow thwarts to steady her as much as -possible. I took in no baggage, but placed gun and revolver in the -bottom alongside of me. Cerf-vola was to swim for himself. - -A----, the miner, took a paddle at the stern. We had scarcely left the -shore when the canoe lurched quickly to one side, shipping water as she -did so. Then came another lurch on the other side, and I knew all was -over. I heard the men on shore shouting to the miner to sit low--to -keep down in the canoe--but all was too late. There came another lurch, -a surge of water, and we were over into the icy quick-running river. I -could not free myself from the thwarts which held me like a vice; the -water gurgled and rushed around, about, and above me; and the horrid -sensation of powerlessness, which the sleeper often experiences in a -nightmare, came full upon my waking senses. - -Of struggling I have but a faint recollection; at such times one -struggles with a wild instinct that knows no rule or thought; but I -vividly recollect the prevalent idea of being held head downwards in -the icy current, in a grasp which seemed as strong as that of death. - -[Illustration: CLINGING TO THE CANOE.] - -I remembered, too, without trouble, all the surroundings of the scene; -the bordering ice which was close below us--for the channel of water -took a central course a little bit lower down the river, and the ice -lay on both sides of it--while the current ran underneath as water can -only run when four feet of solid ice is pressing upon it. Once under -that ice and all was over with us. How it came about I cannot tell, -but all at once I found myself free; I suppose one struggle something -wilder than the rest had set me free, for long afterwards one of my -legs bore tokens of the fight. In another second I was on the surface. -I grasped the canoe, but it was round as a log, and turned like a wheel -in the water, rolling me down each time, half-drowned as I already was. - -My companion, the miner, had gone at once clear of the canoe, and, -catching her by the stern, had held himself well above the water. One -look at Kalder and Charette on the ice told me they were both utterly -demoralized: Kalder had got behind Charette, while the latter held the -line without well knowing what to do with it. Perhaps it was better -that he did so, as the line was a miserably frail one, little better -than a piece of twine, and the weight upon it now in this strong -current was very great. Very slowly Charette hauled in the line that -held us to Mother Earth; then Kalder recovered his presence of mind, -and flung a leathern line across the up-turned canoe. I grasped it, and -in another instant the bark grated against the edge of the ice. Numbed -and frozen I drew myself on to the canoe, then on to the crumbling -ice along the edge, and finally to the solid pack itself. Wet, -water-logged, numbed, and frozen, we made our way across the ice to -the shore. My gun and revolver had vanished; they lay somewhere under -twenty feet of water. - -Thus, without arms, with watch feebly ticking--as though endeavouring -to paddle itself with its hands through billows of water, with Aneroid -so elevated, I presume, at its escape from beneath the water, that in a -sudden revulsion of feeling it indicated an amount of elevation above -the sea level totally inconsistent with anything short of a Himalayan -altitude, at which excited state it continued to exist during the -remainder of my wandering--we reached the Hope of Hudson. There never -was truer saying than that when things go to the worst they mend. When -I had changed my dripping clothes for a suit of Charette’s Sunday -finery, when Mrs. Charette had got ready a cup of tea and a bit of -moose steak, and when the note-book, letters, and likenesses, which one -carries as relics of civilization into the realms of savagery, had all -been duly dried and renovated, matters began to look a good deal better. - -Early on the following morning Charette and Kalder moored a couple -of canoes in the open water, and began to drag for the gun with -a fish-hook fastened to the end of a long pole; the gun was in a -leathern case, and an hour’s work resulted in its recovery, none the -worse for its submersion. My ammunition was still safe, but as the -supply of it available for a breech-loader was limited, we were on the -whole badly off for arms. I armed Kalder with a flint trading-gun--a -weapon which, when he had tried it at a mark, and then hammered the -barrel, first on one side then on the other, he declared to be a good -“beaver gun.” The miner also possessed a gun, but as the hammer of one -barrel hung dangling gracefully down the side, and as he possessed -no percussion-caps for the other barrel (a want he supplied by an -ingenious use of wax vestas), the striking of his match conveyed a -similar idea to the mind of any bird or beast at whose person he -presented the muzzle; and while the gun was thinking about going off, -the bird or beast had already made up its mind to take a similar course. - -Now this matter of weapons was a serious item in our affairs, for -numerous are the delays and mishaps of an up-river journey in the wild -land we were about to penetrate. Down stream all is well; a raft can -always be made that will run from four to six miles an hour; but the -best craft that men can build will not go a mile an hour up-stream on -many parts of these rivers, and of this up-river we had some 200 miles -before us. - -On the 27th of April I set out from Hudson’s Hope to cross the portage -of ten miles, which avoids the Great Cañon, at the farther end of which -the Peace River becomes navigable for a canoe. - -We crossed the river once more at the scene of our accident two days -previously; but this time, warned by experience, a large canoe was -taken, and we passed safely over to the north shore. It took some time -to hunt up the horses, and mid-day had come before we finally got clear -of the Hope of Hudson. - -The portage trail curved up a steep hill of 800 or 900 feet; then on -through sandy flats and by small swamps, until, at some eight or nine -miles from the Hope of Hudson, the outer spurs of the mountains begin -to flank us on either side. To the north a conspicuous ridge, called -the Buffalo’s Head, rises abruptly from the plain, some 3000 feet above -the pass; its rock summit promised a wide view of mountain ranges on -one side, and of the great valley of the Peace River on the other. It -stood alone, the easternmost of all the ranges, and the Cañon of the -Peace River flowed round it upon two sides, south and west. - -Months before, at the forks of the Athabasca River, a man who had once -wandered into these wilds told me, in reply to a question of mine, -that there was one spot near the mouth of the Peace River pass which -commanded a wide range of mountain and prairie. It was the Buffalo’s -Head. - -Nine hundred miles had carried me now to that spot. The afternoon was -clear and fine; the great range had not a cloud to darken the glare of -the sun upon its sheen of snow; and the pure cool air came over the -forest trees fresh from the thousand billows of this sea of mountains. -The two men went on to the portage end; I gave them my horse, and, -turning at right angles into a wood, made my way towards the foot of -the Buffalo’s Head. - -Thick with brulé and tangled forest lay the base of the mountain; but -this once passed, the steep sides became clear of forest, and there -rose abruptly before me a mass of yellow grass and soft-blue anemones. -Less than an hour’s hard climbing brought me to the summit, and I was a -thousand times repaid for the labour of the ascent. - -I stood on the bare rocks which formed the frontlet of the Buffalo’s -Head. Below, the pines of a vast forest looked like the toy-trees which -children set up when Noah is put forth to watch the animals emerging -from his ark, and where everything is in perfect order, save and -except that perverse pig, who will insist on lying upon his side in -consequence of a fractured leg, and who must either be eliminated from -the procession altogether, or put in such close contact to Mrs. Noah, -for the sake of her support, as to detract very much from the solemnity -of the whole procession. - -Alas, how futile is it to endeavour to describe such a view! Not more -wooden are the ark animals of our childhood, than the words in which -man would clothe the images of that higher nature which the Almighty -has graven into the shapes of lonely mountains! Put down your wooden -woods bit by bit; throw in colour here, a little shade there, touch it -up with sky and cloud, cast about it that perfume of blossom or breeze, -and in Heaven’s name what does it come to after all? Can the eye wander -away, away, away until it is lost in blue distance as a lark is lost in -blue heaven, but the sight still drinks the beauty of the landscape, -though the source of the beauty be unseen, as the source of the music -which falls from the azure depths of sky. - -That river coming out broad and glittering from the dark mountains, and -vanishing into yon profound chasm with a roar which reaches up even -here--billowy seas of peaks and mountains beyond number away there -to south and west--that huge half dome which lifts itself above all -others sharp and clear cut against the older dome of heaven! Turn east, -look out into that plain--that endless plain where the pine-trees are -dwarfed to spear-grass and the prairie to a meadow-patch--what do you -see? Nothing, poor blind reader, nothing, for the blind is leading -the blind; and all this boundless range of river and plain, ridge and -prairie, rocky precipice and snow-capped sierra, is as much above my -poor power of words, as He who built this mighty nature is higher still -than all. - -Ah, my friend, my reader! Let us come down from this mountain-top to -our own small level again. We will upset you in an ice-rapid; Kalder -will fire at you; we will be wrecked; we will have no food; we will -hunt the moose, and do anything and everything you like,--but we cannot -put in words the things that we see from these lonely mountain-tops -when we climb them in the sheen of evening. When you go into your -church, and the organ rolls and the solemn chant floats through the -lofty aisles, you do not ask your neighbour to talk to you and tell -you what it is like. If he should do anything of the kind, the beadle -takes him and puts him out of doors, and then the policeman takes him -and puts him indoors, and he is punished for his atrocious conduct; -and yet you expect me to tell you about this church, whose pillars are -the mountains, whose roof is the heaven itself, whose music comes from -the harp-strings which the earth has laid over her bosom, which we -call pine-trees; and from which the hand of the Unseen draws forth a -ceaseless symphony rolling ever around the world. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - Jacques, the French miner.--A fearful abyss.--The Great - Cañon of the Peace River.--We are off on our western - way.--Unfortunate Indians.--A burnt baby.--The moose that - walks. - - -It was dusk when I reached the ruined hut which stood at the western -end of the portage. My men had long preceded me, and Kalder had supper -ready before the great fireplace. The fire shed its light upon a fourth -figure; it was that of Jacques, the French miner, five feet two inches -in height; miner, trapper, trader, and wanderer since he left his home -in Lorraine, near the war-famous citadel of Belfort, some twenty years -ago. - -I brought one piece of news to the hut: it was that although the river -was free from ice opposite our resting-place, and to the end of the -reach in view, yet it was fast closed in for the twenty or thirty miles -which my mountain climb had enabled me to scan. So here in the midst of -the mountains we awaited the disruption of the ice and the opening of -our watery way. - -The delay thus occasioned was unexpected, and fell heavily on my supply -of food; but rabbits and partridges were numerous, and Kalder’s gun -proved itself to be a worthy weapon at these denizens of the forest, as -well as at the beaver. On the evening of my arrival at the hut I had -seen two moose drinking on a sand-bar near the mouth of the Cañon, but -the river lay between me and them, and we could find no further trace -of them on the following day. - -In one respect the delay was not irksome to me; it gave me an -opportunity of exploring a portion of the Great Cañon, and forming some -idea of the nature of the difficulties and dangers which made it an -impassable chasm for the hardiest _voyageurs_. - -On the 29th of April the ice in the upper part of the river broke up, -and came pouring down with great violence for some hours; blocks of ice -many feet in thickness, and weighing several tons, came down the broad -river, crushing against each other, and lining the shore with huge -crystal masses. - -The river rose rapidly, and long after dark the grating of the -ice-blocks in the broad channel below told us that the break-up must -be a general one; the current before our hut was running six miles an -hour, and the ice had begun to run early in the afternoon. - -All next day the ice continued to run at intervals, but towards evening -it grew less, and at nightfall it had nearly ceased. - -During the day I set out to explore the Cañon. Making my way along -the edge of what was, in ages past, the shore of a vast lake, I -gained the summit of a ridge which hung directly over the Cañon. -Through a mass of wrack and tangled forest I held on, guided by the -dull roar of waters until I reached an open space, where a ledge of -rock dipped suddenly into the abyss: on the outer edge of this rock -a few spruce-trees sprung from cleft and fissure, and from beneath, -deep down in the dark chasm, a roar of water floated up into the day -above. Advancing cautiously to the smooth edge of the chasm, I took -hold of a spruce-tree and looked over. Below lay one of those grim -glimpses which the earth holds hidden, save from the eagle and the -mid-day sun. Caught in a dark prison of stupendous cliffs (cliffs which -hollowed out beneath, so that the topmost ledge literally hung over the -boiling abyss of waters), the river foamed and lashed against rock and -precipice, nine hundred feet below me. Like some caged beast that finds -escape impossible on one side, it flew as madly and as vainly against -the other; and then fell back in foam and roar and raging whirlpool. -The rocks at the base held the record of its wrath in great trunks of -trees, and blocks of ice lying piled and smashed in shapeless ruin. - -Looking down the Cañon towards the south, a great glen opened from the -west; and the sun, now getting low in the heavens, poured through this -valley a flood of light on red and grey walls of rugged rock; while -half the pine-clad hills lay dark in shade, and half glowed golden -in this level light; and far away, beyond the shadowy chasm and the -sun-lit glen, one great mountain-peak lifted his dazzling crest of snow -high into the blue air of the evening. - -There are many indications above the mouth of the Cañon, that the -valley in which our hut stood was once a large lake. The beaches -and terrace levels are distinctly marked, but the barrier fall was -worn down into a rapid, and the Cañon became a slant of water for -some thirty miles. At the entrance the rock is worn smooth and -flat in many places, and huge cisterns have been hollowed in its -surface--“kettles,” as the _voyageur_ calls them--perfectly round, and -holding still the granite boulder which had chiselled them, worn to -the size and roundness of a cannon-ball from ages of revolution. Some -of these kettles are tiny as a tea-cup; others are huge as the tun of -Heidelberg. - -When I got back to the hut, night had fallen. At the end of the long -river-reach a new moon hung in the orange-tinted west; the river was -almost clear of ice, and it was resolved to start on the morrow. - -There was a certain amount of vagueness in the programme before me. For -seventy miles the course was perfectly clear--there was, in fact, only -one road to follow--but at the end of that distance two paths lay open, -and circumstances could only determine the future route at that point. - -If the reader will imagine an immense letter Y laid longitudinally from -west to east, he will have a fair idea of the Peace River above the -Cañon. The tail of the Y will be the seventy miles of river running -directly through the main range of the Rocky Mountains; the right arm -will be the Findlay, having its source 300 miles higher up in that -wilderness of mountains known as the Stickeen; the left arm will be -the Parsnip River, sometimes called by mistake the Peace River, having -its source 260 miles to the south near the waters of the upper Frazer. -Countless lesser streams (some of them, nevertheless, having their 200 -miles of life) roll down into these main systems; and it would seem as -though the main channel had, like a skilful general, united all its -widely-scattered forces at the forks, seventy miles above us, before -entering on the gigantic task of piercing the vast barrier of the -central mountains. - -Standing on the high ground at the back of the hut in which we awaited -the opening of the great river, and looking westward at the mountains -piled together in endless masses, it was difficult to imagine by -what process a mighty river had cloven asunder this wilderness of -rock,--giving us the singular spectacle of a wide, deep, tranquil -stream flowing through the principal mountain range of the American -continent. - -May-day broke in soft showers of rain; the mountains were shrouded in -mist; the breeze was not strong enough to lift the gauze-like vapour -from the tree-tops on the south shore. By nine o’clock the mists began -to drift along the hill-sides; stray peaks came forth through rifts, -then shut themselves up again; until finally the sun drew off the -vapours, and clad mountain and valley in blue and gold. - -We loaded the canoe, closed the door of the old shanty, and shoved off -upon our western way. There were four of us and one dog--two miners, my -half-breed Kalder, myself, and Cerf-vola. I had arranged with Jacques -to travel together, and I made him captain of the boat. None knew -better the secrets of the Upper Peace River; for ten years he had -delved its waters with his paddle, and its sand-bars with his miner’s -shovel. - -Little Jacques--he was a curious specimen of humanity, and well worth -some study too. I have already said that he was small, but that does -not convey any idea of his real size. I think he was the smallest man I -ever saw--of course I mean a man, and not a dwarf; Jacques had nothing -of the dwarf about him--nay, he was a very giant in skill and craft of -paddle, and pluck and daring. He had lived long upon his own resources, -and had found them equal to most emergencies. - -He could set his sails to every shift of fortune, and make some -headway in every wind. In summer he hunted gold; in winter he hunted -furs. He had the largest head of thick bushy hair I ever saw. He -had drawn 3000 dollars’ worth of pure gold out of a sand-pit on the -Ominica River during the preceding summer; he had now a hundred fine -marten-skins, the produce of his winter’s trapping. Jacques was rich, -but all the same, Jacques must work. As I have said, Jacques was a -native of Belfort. Belfort had proved a tough nut for Kaiser William’s -legions; and many a time as I watched this little giant in times of -peril, I thought that with 200,000 little Jacqueses one could fight -big Bismarck’s beery battalions as often as they pleased. Of course -Jacques had a pair of miner’s boots. A miner without a pair of miner’s -boots would be like Hamlet with Hamlet left out. When Jacques donned -these boots, and swung himself out on a huge forest trunk prostrate in -a rapid, and hewed away at the giant to give our canoe a passage, he -looked for all the world like his prototype the giant-killer, and the -boots became the seven-leagued friends of our early days. - -How the big axe flew about his little head, until crash went the -monster, and Jacques sprang back to rock or boat as lively as a -squirrel. - -He had many queer stories of early days, and could recount with pride -the history of the stirring times he had seen. What miner’s heart does -not soften at the recollection, in these degenerate days, of how the -Vigilants hanged six roughs one morning in the market-place of Frisco, -just two-and-twenty years ago? - -We poled and paddled along the shore of the river; now on one side, -now on the other, dodging the heavy floes of ice which still came at -intervals along the current. - -In the evening we had gained a spot some twelve miles from the hut, -and we made our camp on a wooded flat set in a wide amphitheatre of -hills. The next morning broke wet and stormy, and we lay in camp -during the early part of the day. Towards mid-day the silence was -broken by the discharge of a gun at the opposite side of the river. We -at once answered it, and soon another report replied to ours. There -were Indians in the vicinity, so we might expect a visit. About an hour -later a most wretched group appeared at our camp. It consisted of two -half-clad women, one of whom carried a baby on her back; a wild-looking -boy, apparently about twelve or fourteen years of age, led the way, -carrying an old gun; two dogs brought up the rear. A glance at the dogs -showed that food, at least, was plentiful in the Indian camp--they were -fat and sleek. If an Indian has a fat dog, you may know that game is -abundant; if the dog is thin, food is scarce; if there be no dog at -all, the Indian is starving, and the dog has been killed and eaten by -his master. But to proceed:-- - -In a network of tattered blankets and dripping rags, these three -wretched creatures stalked into our camp; they were as wet as if they -had come underneath the river instead of across it; but that seemed -to give them little thought. Jacques understood a few words of what -they said, and the rest was made out by signs;--all the men were sick, -and had been sick for months. This boy and another were alone able to -hunt; but moose were plenty, and starvation had not come to supplement -sickness; the women were “packing” the men. - -Reader, what do you imagine that means? I will soon tell you. It means -that when the camp moves--which it does every few days, as the game -gets hunted away from one locality--the women carried the men on their -backs in addition to the household gods. Literally these poor women -carried on their bent backs the house, the clothes, the food, the baby, -and the baby’s father. - -What was the disease? They could not tell. - -My slender stock of drugs was long since exhausted; I had nothing left -but the pain-killer. I gave them half of my last bottle, and had it -been the golden wealth of the sand-bars of this Peace River itself, it -could not have been more thought of. To add to their misfortunes, the -baby had come to grief about a week previously--it had tumbled head -foremost into the fire. It was now unslung from its mother’s back for -my inspection. Poor little Beaver! its face and head had got a dreadful -burning; but, thanks to mountain air and Indian hardiness, it was -getting all right. - -Had I anything to rub on it? A little of the Mal de Raquette -porpoise-oil and pain-killer yet remained, and with such an antidote -the youthful Beaver might henceforth live in the camp-fire. - -I know some excellent Christians at home who occasionally bestow -a shilling or a half-crown upon a poor man at a church-door or a -street-crossing, not for the humanity of the act, but just to purchase -that amount of heaven in the next world. I believe they could tell you -to a farthing how much of Paradise they had purchased last week or the -week before. I am not sure that they are quite clear as to whether the -quantity of heaven thus purchased, is regulated by the value set on the -gift by the beggar or by the rich man; but if it be by the value placed -on it by him who gets it, think, my Christian friends, think what a -field for investment does not this wilderness present to you. Your -shilling spent here amongst these Indians will be rated by them at more -than its weight in gold; and a pennyworth of pain-killer might purchase -you a perpetuity of Paradise. - -Jacques, an adept in Indian trade, got a large measure of dried moose -meat in exchange for a few plugs of tobacco; and the Indians went away -wet, but happy. - -One word more about Indians--and I mean to make it a long word and a -strong word, and perhaps my reader will add, a wrong word; but never -mind, it is meant the other way. - -This portion of the Beaver tribe trade to Hudson’s Hope, the fort we -have but lately quitted. - -Here is the story of a trade made last summer by “the moose that walks.” - -“The moose that walks” arrived at Hudson’s Hope early in the spring. He -was sorely in want of gunpowder and shot, for it was the season when -the beaver leave their winter houses, and when it is easy to shoot -them. So he carried his thirty marten-skins to the fort, to barter them -for shot, powder, and tobacco. - -There was no person at the Hope. The dwelling-house was closed, the -store shut up, the man in charge had not yet come up from St. John’s; -now what was to be done? Inside that wooden house lay piles and piles -of all that the walking moose most needed; there was a whole keg of -powder; there were bags of shot and tobacco--there was as much as the -moose could smoke in his whole life. - -Through a rent in the parchment window the moose looked at all these -wonderful things, and at the red flannel shirts, and at the four flint -guns, and the spotted cotton handkerchiefs, each worth a sable skin at -one end of the fur trade, half a sixpence at the other. There was tea, -too--tea, that magic medicine before which life’s cares vanished like -snow in spring sunshine. - -The moose sat down to think about all these things, but thinking only -made matters worse. He was short of ammunition, therefore he had no -food, and to think of food when one is very hungry is an unsatisfactory -business. It is true that “the moose that walks” had only to walk in -through that parchment window, and help himself till he was tired. But -no, that would not do. - -“Ah!” my Christian friend will exclaim, “Ah! yes, the poor Indian had -known the good missionary, and had learnt the lesson of honesty and -respect for his neighbour’s property.” - -Yes; he had learnt the lesson of honesty, but his teacher, my friend, -had been other than human. The good missionary had never reached the -Hope of Hudson, nor improved the morals of “the moose that walks.” - -But let us go on. - -After waiting two days he determined to set off for St. John, two full -days’ travel. He set out, but his heart failed him, and he turned back -again. - -At last, on the fourth day he entered the parchment window, leaving -outside his comrade, to whom he jealously denied admittance. Then he -took from the cask of powder three skins’ worth, from the tobacco four -skins’ worth, from the shot the same; and sticking the requisite number -of martens in the powder-barrel and the shot-bag and the tobacco-case, -he hung up his remaining skins on a nail to the credit of his account, -and departed from this El Dorado, this Bank of England of the Red man -in the wilderness, this Hunt and Roskell of Peace River. - -And when it was all over he went his way, thinking he had done a very -reprehensible act, and one by no means to be proud of. Poor moose that -walks! in this trade for skins you are but a small item! - -Society muffles itself in your toil-won sables in distant cities, while -you starve and die out in the wilderness. - -The credit of your twenty skins, hung to the rafter of Hudson’s Hope, -is not a large one; but surely there is a Hope somewhere else, where -your account is kept in golden letters, even though nothing but the -clouds had baptized you, no missionary had cast water on your head, and -God only knows who taught you to be honest. - -Let me not be misunderstood in this matter. I believe, gentlemen -missionaries, you mean well by this Indian. I will go further; you -form, I think, almost the only class who would deal fairly by him, -but you go to work in a wrong direction; your mode of proceeding is a -mistake. If you would only be a little more human, and a little less -divine--if you would study the necessities of the savage races amidst -whom you have cast your lot--what good might ye not effect? - -This Cree, this Blackfoot, this Chipewyan, this Beaver--what odds is -it, in the name of all goodness, whether he fully understands the -numbered or unnumbered things you tell him. Teach him the simple creed -which you would teach a child. He is starving, and the feast you give -him is of delicate and subtle food, long since compounded from the -brain of schoolman and classicist. He is naked, and you would clothe -him in mysterious raiment and fine tissue, which time has woven out -of the webs of doubt and inquiry. All this will not warm him from the -terrible blast of winter, or shelter him from the drenching rains of -early summer. He has many faults, some virtues, innumerable wants. -Begin with these. Preach against the first; cultivate the second; -relieve as much as possible the third. Make him a good man before you -attempt to make him an indifferent Christian. In a word, do more for -his body; and after a bit, when you have taught him to help his wife -in toil and trouble--to build a house and to live in it--to plant a -few potatoes when the ground thaws, and to hoe them out ere it hardens -again--when you have loosed the bands of starvation, nakedness, and -hardship from the grasp in which they now hold him, then will come the -moment for your books and your higher teaching. And in his hut, with a -well-filled stomach, he will have time to sift truth from falsehood, -amidst all the isms and arians under the guise of which you come to -teach him. But just now he is only a proletarian and an open-arian, and -not much even of these. Meantime I know that you wish well by him. You -are ready to teach him--to tell him about a host of good, and some very -indifferent, persons; but lo! in the middle of your homilies he falls -asleep, and his sleep is the sleep of death. He starves and dies out -before you. Of course I know the old old answer: “He is hopeless; we -have tried everything; we can do nothing.” How often have I not been -told, “He is hopeless; we can do nothing for this Red man!” But will -any person dare to say that men such as this Indian at Hudson’s Hope -are beyond the cure of man? If they be, then your creed must be a poor -weak thing. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - Still westward.--The dangers of the ice.--We enter the - main range.--In the mountains.--A grizzly.--Tho death - of the moose.--Peace River Pass.--Pete Toy.--The - Ominica.--“Travellers” at home. - - -We held our way up the river, fighting many a battle with the current. -Round the points the stream ran strong, and our canoe was a big, -lumbering affair, hollowed out of a single cotton-wood tree by Jacques, -years before on the Fraser River, and ill-adapted to the ice, which was -our most dangerous enemy. Many a near shave we had of being crushed -under its heavy floes as we coasted along beneath their impending -masses. When the river breaks up, portions of it stronger than the rest -remain still frozen. At the back of these the floating ice jams, and -the river rises rapidly behind the barrier thus flung across it. Then -the pack gives way, and the pent-up waters rapidly lower. But along the -shore, on either side, the huge blocks of ice lie stranded, heaped one -upon another, and the water, still falling, brushes off from beneath -the projecting pieces, leaving a steep wall of ice, sometimes twenty -and thirty feet, brightly rising above the water. Along these impending -masses we had to steer our canoe, and hazardous work it was, for every -now and again some huge fragment, many tons in weight, would slide -from its high resting-place, and crash into the river with a roar of -thunder, driving the billows before it half-way across the wide river, -and making our hearts jump half as much again. - -At one point where the river ran with unusual velocity we battled long -beneath a very high ice-wall. Once or twice the current carried us -against its sides. We dared not touch it with our poles, for it hung by -a thread, so far did its summit project over our heads. - -Gently we stole our way up from beneath it, and were still within -thirty yards of it when the great boulder, looming high, crashed into -the river. - -On the fourth day we got clear of this shore ice, and drew near the -main range of the mountains. But there was one important question which -experience soon told me there was no cause for anxiety about--it was -the question of food. - -Game was abundant; the lower hills were thickly stocked with blue -grouse--a noble bird, weighing between three and four pounds. - -The bays of the river held beaver, swimming through the driftwood, and -ere we had reached the mountain gate a moose had fallen to my trusty -smooth-bore, in one of the grassy glens between the river and the snowy -range. It was literally a hunter’s paradise. This was the worst time of -the year, except for beaver, but necessity knows no game law, and the -wilderness at all times must feed its wanderers. - -We usually camped a couple of hours before sun-down, for in this -northern land the daylight was more than long enough to stiffen our -shoulders, and make our arms ache from pole or paddle. Then came the -time to stretch one’s legs over these great grassy uplands, so steep, -yet so free of rock; so full of projecting point and lofty promontory, -beneath which the river lay in long silvery reaches, while around on -every side the mountains in masses of rock and snow, lay like giant -sentinels, guarding the great road which Nature had hewn through their -midst. - -At the entrance to the main range, the valley of the river is about two -miles wide. The river itself preserves its general width of 250 to 300 -yards with singular uniformity. The reaches are from one to three miles -in length, the banks are dry, the lower beaches are level and well -wooded, and the current becomes deeper and less rapid. - -On the 8th of May we reached, early in the morning, the entrance to the -main range. A short rapid marks it, a rapid easy to run at all stages -of water, and up which we towed our canoe, carrying the more perishable -articles to save them from the spray--a precaution which was, however, -not necessary, as no water was shipped. - -We were now in the mountains. From the low terrace along the shore they -rose in stupendous masses; their lower ridges clothed in forests of -huge spruce, poplar, and birch; their middle heights covered in dense -thickets of spruce alone; their summits cut into a thousand varied -peaks, bare of all vegetation, but bearing aloft into the sunshine 8000 -feet above us the glittering crowns of snow which, when evening stilled -the breezes, shone reflected in the quiet waters, vast and motionless. - -Wonderful things to look at are these white peaks, perched up so high -above our world. They belong to us, yet they are not of us. The eagle -links them to the earth; the cloud carries to them the message of the -sky; the ocean sends them her tempest; the air rolls her thunders -beneath their brows, and launches her lightnings from their sides; the -sun sends them his first greeting, and leaves them his latest kiss. Yet -motionless they keep their crowns of snow, their glacier crests of -jewels, and dwell among the stars heedless of time or tempest. - -[Illustration: MOUNT GARNET WOLSELEY AND THE PEACE RIVER.] - -For two days we journeyed through this vast valley, along a wide, -beautiful river, tranquil as a lake, and bearing on its bosom, at -intervals, small isles of green forest. Now and again a beaver rippled -the placid surface, or a bear appeared upon a rocky point for a moment, -looked at the strange lonely craft, stretched out his long snout to -sniff the gale, and then vanished in the forest shore. For the rest all -was stillness; forest, isle, river and mountain--all seemed to sleep -in unending loneliness; and our poles grating against the rocky shore, -or a shot at some quick-diving beaver, alone broke the silence; while -the echo, dying away in the vast mountain cañons, made the relapsing -silence seem more intense. - -Thus we journeyed on. On the evening of the 8th of May we emerged from -the pass, and saw beyond the extremity of a long reach of river a -mountain range running north and south, distant about thirty miles from -us. To the right and left the Rocky Mountains opened out, leaving the -river to follow its course through a long forest valley of considerable -width. - -We had passed the Rocky Mountains, and the range before us was the -central mountain system of North British Columbia. - -It was a very beautiful evening; the tops of the birch-trees were -already showing their light green leaves amidst the dark foliage of the -spruce and firs. - -Along the shore, where we landed, the tracks of a very large grizzly -bear were imprinted freshly in the sand. I put a couple of bullets -into my gun and started up the river, with Cerf-vola for a companion. -I had got about a mile from the camp when, a few hundred yards ahead, -a large dark animal emerged from the forest, and made his way through -some lower brushwood towards the river. Could it be the grizzly? I lay -down on the sand-bank, and pulled the dog down beside me. The large -black animal walked out upon the sand-bar two or three hundred yards -above me. He proved to be a moose on his way to swim the river to the -south shore. I lay still until he had got so far on his way that return -to the forest would have been impracticable; then I sprang to my feet -and ran towards him. What a spring he gave across the sand and down -into the water! Making an allowance for the force of the current, I -ran towards the shore. It was a couple of hundred yards from me, and -when I gained it the moose was already three-parts across the river, -almost abreast where I stood, swimming for his very life, with his huge -unshapen head thrust out along the surface, the ears thrown forward, -while the large ripples rolled from before his chest as he clove his -way through the water. - -It was a long shot for a rifle, doubly so for a smooth-bore; but old -experience in many lands, where the smooth-bore holds its own despite -all other weapons, had told me that when you do get a gun to throw a -bullet well, you may rely upon it for distances supposed to be far -beyond the possibilities of such a weapon; so, in a tenth of the time -it has taken me to say all this, I gave the moose the right barrel, -aiming just about his long ears. There was a single plunge in the -water; the giant head went down, and all was quiet. And now to secure -the quarry. Away down stream he floated, showing only one small black -speck above the surface; he was near the far side, too. Running down -shore I came within calling-distance of the camp, from which the smoke -of Kalder’s fire was already curling above the tree-tops. Out came -Kalder, Jacques, and A----. Of course it was a grizzly, and all the -broken flint-guns of the party were suddenly called into requisition. -If it had been a grizzly, and that I had been retiring before him -in skirmishing order, gods! what a support I was falling back upon! -A----‘s gun is already familiar to the reader; Kalder’s beaver-gun -went off about one shot in three; and Jacques possessed a weapon -(it had been discarded by an Indian, and Jacques had resuscitated it -out of the store of all trades which he possessed an inkling of) the -most extraordinary I had ever seen. Jacques always spoke of it in the -feminine gender. “She was a good gun, except that a trifle too much of -the powder came out the wrong way. He would back her to shoot ‘plum’ -if she would only go off after a reasonable lapse of time, but it was -tiring to him to keep her to the shoulder for a couple of minutes -after he had pulled her trigger, and then to have her go off when he -was thinking of pulling the gun-coat over her again.” When she was put -away in the canoe, it was always a matter of some moment to place her -so that in the event of any sudden explosion of her pent-up wrath, she -might discharge herself harmlessly along the river, and on this account -she generally lay like a stern-chaser projecting from behind Jacques, -and endangering only his paddle. - -All these maimed and mutilated weapons were now brought forth, and such -a loading and priming and hammering began, that, had it really been -a grizzly, he must have been utterly scared out of all semblance of -attack. - -Kalder now mastered the position of affairs, and like an arrow he and -Jacques were into the canoe, and out after the dead moose. They soon -overhauled him, and, slipping a line over the young antlers, towed -him to the shore. We were unable to lift him altogether out of the -water, so we cut him up as he lay, stranded like a whale. - -[Illustration: CUTTING UP THE MOOSE.] - -Directly opposite a huge cone mountain rose up some eight or nine -thousand feet above us, and just ere evening fell over the scene, his -topmost peak, glowing white in the sunlight, became mirror’d in most -faithful semblance in the clear quiet river, while the life-stream -of the moose flowed out over the tranquil surface, dyeing the nearer -waters into brilliant crimson. - -If some painter in the exuberance of his genius had put upon canvas -such a strange contrast of colours, people would have said it is not -true to nature; but nature has many truths, and it takes many a long -day, and not a few years’ toil, to catch a tenth of them. And, my dear -friend with the eye-glass--you who know all about nature in a gallery -and with a catalogue--you may take my word for it. - -And now, ere quitting, probably for ever, this grand Peace River -Pass--this immense valley which receives in its bosom so many other -valleys, into whose depths I only caught a moment’s glimpse as we -floated by their outlets--let me say one other word about it. - -Since I left the Wild North Land, it has been my lot to visit the -chief points of interest in Oregon, California, the Vale of Shasta, and -the Yosemite. Shasta is a loftier mountain than any that frown above -the Peace River Pass. Yosemite can boast its half-dozen waterfalls, -trickling down their thousand feet of rock; but for wild beauty, for -the singular spectacle of a great river flowing tranquilly through a -stupendous mountain range,--these mountains presenting at every reach a -hundred varied aspects,--not the dizzy glory of Shasta nor the rampart -precipices of Yosemite can vie with that lonely gorge far away on the -great Unchagah. - -On the 9th of May we reached the Forks of the river, where the two main -streams of the Parsnip and the Findlay came together. A couple of miles -from their junction a second small rapid occurs; but, like the first -one, it can be run without difficulty. - -Around the point of junction the country is low and marshy, and when we -turned into the Findlay, it was easy to perceive from the colour of the -water that the river was rising rapidly. - -Some miles above the Forks there is a solitary hut on the south bank of -the river. In this hut dwelt Pete Toy, a miner of vast repute in the -northern mining country. - -Some ten years ago Pete had paddled his canoe into these lonely -waters. As he went, he prospected the various bars. Suddenly he struck -one of surpassing richness. It yielded one dollar to the bucket, or one -hundred dollars a day to a man’s work. Pete was astonished; he laid up -his canoe, built this hut, and claimed the bar as his property. For a -long time it yielded a steady return; but even gold has a limit--the -bar became exhausted. Where had all his gold come from? - -Ah, that is the question! Even to-day, though the bank has been washed -year after year, “it is still rich in colour;” but the “pay-dirt” lies -too far from the water’s edge, hence the labour is too great. - -Well, Pete, the Cornish miner, built his hut and took out his gold; but -that did not satisfy him. What miner ever yet was satisfied? Pete went -in for fifty things; he traded with the Indians, he trapped, he took -an Indian wife; yet, through all, he maintained a character for being -as honest and as straightforward a miner as ever found “a colour” from -Mexico to Cariboo. - -My little friend Jacques expected to meet his old brother miner Pete at -his hut; but, as we came within five miles of it, a beaver swam across -the river. We all fired at him, and when the smoke had vanished, I -heard Jacques mutter, “Pete’s not hereabouts, or that fellow wouldn’t -be there.” He was right, for, when we reached the hut an hour later, -we found a notice on the door, saying that Pete and two friends had -departed for the Ominica just six days earlier, being totally out of -all food, and having only their guns to rely upon. Now this fact of -Pete’s absence rendered necessary new arrangements, for here the two -courses I have already alluded to lay open--either to turn south, along -the Parsnip; or north and west, along the Findlay and Ominica. - -The current of the Parsnip is regular; that of the Ominica is wild and -rapid. But the Parsnip was already rising, and at its spring level it -is almost an impossibility to ascend it, owing to its great depth; -while the Ominica, though difficult and dangerous in its cañons, is -nevertheless possible of ascent, even in its worst stage of water. - -I talked the matter over with Jacques, as we sat camped on the gold-bar -opposite Pete Toy’s house. Fortunately we had ample supplies of meat; -but some luxuries, such as tea and sugar, were getting dangerously low, -and flour was almost exhausted. I decided upon trying the Ominica. - -About noon, on the 10th of May, we set out for the Ominica, with high -hopes of finding the river still low enough to allow us to ascend it. - -Ten miles above Toy’s hut the Ominica enters the Peace River from the -south-west. We reached its mouth on the morning of the 11th, and -found it high and rapid. There was hard work in store for us, and the -difficulties of passing the Great Cañon loomed ominously big. We pushed -on, however, and that night reached a spot where the river issued from -a large gap in a high wall of dark rock. Above, on the summit of this -rock, pine-trees projected over the river. We were at the door of the -Ominica cañon. The warm weather of last week had done its work, and -the water rushed from the gate of the cañon in a wild and impetuous -torrent. We looked a moment at the grim gate which we had to storm on -the morrow, and then put in to the north shore, where, under broad and -lofty pines, we made our beds for the night. - -The Findlay River, as it is called, after the fur-trader, who first -ascended it, has many large tributaries. It is something like a huge -right hand spread out over the country, of which the middle finger -would be the main river, and the thumb the Ominica. There is the North -Fork, which closely hugs the main Rocky Mountain range. There is the -Findlay itself, a magnificent river, flowing from a vast labyrinth of -mountains, and being unchanged in size or apparent volume, 120 miles -above the Forks we had lately left. At that distance it issues from a -cañon similar to that at whose mouth we are now camped; and there is -the second South Fork, a river something smaller than the Ominica, from -whose mouth it is distant about a hundred miles. - -Of these rivers nothing is known. These few items are the result of -chance information picked up from the solitary miner who penetrated -to this cañon’s mouth, and from the reports which a wandering band -of Sickanies give of the vast unknown interior of the region of the -Stickeen. And yet it is all British territory. It abounds with game; -its scenery is as wild as mountain peak and gloomy cañon can make it; -it is free from fever or malaria. In it Nature has locked up some of -her richest treasures--treasures which are open to any strong, stout -heart who will venture to grasp them. - -I know not how it is, but sometimes it seems to me that this England of -ours is living on a bygone reputation; the sinew is there without the -soul! - -It is so easy to be a traveller in an easy chair--to lay out a map and -run one’s finger over it and say, “This river is the true source of the -Hunky-dorum, and that lake finds its outlet in the Rumtifoozle;” and it -is equally easy, particularly after our comfortable dinner at the club, -to stroll over to the meeting of the Society for the Preservation of -Sticklebacks in Tahitian Seas, and to prove to the fashionable audience -there assembled, that a stickleback was the original progenitor of the -human race. - -Our modern Briton can be a traveller without any trouble. He is a -member of “the Club,” and on the strength of his membership he can -criticize “that fellow Burton,” or “that queer fish Palgrave,” and -prove to you how, if that “poor devil” Hayward had tried the Chittral -Pass instead of the Palmirsteppe, “he would never have come to grief, -you know.” - -I know one or two excellent idiots, who fancy they are wits because -they belong to the Garrick. It is quite as easy to be a traveller by -simply belonging to a Travellers’ Club. - -Now all this would be a very harmless pastime, if something more -serious did not lie behind it; just as the mania to dress ourselves -in uniform and carry a rifle through the streets, would also be a -very harmless, if a very useless, pastime, if a graver question did -not again lie hidden beneath “our noble Volunteers;” but the club -traveller and the club soldier are not content with the _rôle_ of -lounging mediocrity for which nature destined them. They must needs -stand between the spirit of England’s better genius, and England’s real -toilers of the wilds. They must supervise and criticize and catechize, -and generally play the part of Fuz-buz to the detriment of everything -which redounds to the true spirit of England’s honour in the fair field -of travel and discovery. - -Let there be no mistake in this matter. To those veterans who -still stand above the waves of time, living monuments of England’s -heroism, in Arctic ice or Africa’s sun, we owe all honour and love -and veneration. They are the old soldiers of an army, passed from the -world, and when Time sums up the record of their service here below, it -will be but to hand up the roll to the Tribunal of the Future. - -But it is of the younger race of whom we would speak--that race who buy -with gold the right to determine what England shall do, and shall not -do, in the wide field of geographical research; who are responsible -for the wretched exploratory failures of the past few years; who have -allowed the palm of discovery and enterprise to pass away to other -nations, or to alien sons. But if we were to say all we think about -this matter, we might only tire the reader, and stop until doomsday at -the mouth of this Black Cañon of the Ominica. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - The Black Cañon.--An ugly prospect.--The vanished boat.--We - struggle on.--A forlorn hope.--We fail again.--An unhoped - for meeting and a feast of joy.--The Black Cañon conquered. - - -Casting off from camp, on the morning of the 12th, we pushed right into -the mouth of the cañon. At once our troubles began. The steep walls -of smooth rock rose directly out of the water--sometimes washed by a -torrent, at others beaten by a back-whirl and foaming eddy. In the -centre ran a rush of water that nothing could stem. Poling, paddling, -clinging with hands and nails to the rock; often beaten back and always -edging up again, we crept slowly along under the overhanging cliff, -which leaned out two hundred feet above us to hold upon its dizzy -verge some clinging pine-tree. In the centre of the chasm, about half -a mile from its mouth, a wild cataract of foam forbade our passage; -but after a whole morning’s labour we succeeded in bringing the canoe -safely to the foot of this rapid, and moored her in a quiet eddy behind -a sheltering rock. Here we unloaded, and, clambering up a cleft in -the cañon wall two hundred feet above us, passed along the top of the -cliff, and bore our loads to the upper or western end of the cañon, -fully a mile from the boat. The day was hot and sweltering, and it was -hard work. - -In one of these many migrations between camp and canoe, it chanced one -evening that, missing the trail, my footsteps led me to the base of a -small knoll, the sides and summit of which were destitute of trees. -Climbing to the top of this hill I beheld a view of extraordinary -beauty. Over the sea of forest, from the dark green and light green -ocean of tree-tops, the solid mountain mass lay piled against the east. -Below my standpoint the first long reach of the cañon opened out; a -grim fissure in the forest, in the depths of which the waters caught -the reflection of the sun-lit skies above, glowing brightly between the -walls of gloomy rock deep hidden beneath the level rays of the setting -sun. I stood high above the cañon, high above the vast forest which -stretched between me and the mountains; and the eye, as it wandered -over the tranquil ocean upon whose waves the isles of light green shade -lay gold-crested in the sunset, seemed to rest upon fresh intervals -of beauty, until the solid ramparts rent and pinnacled, silent and -impassive, caught and rivetted its glance; as their snow-white, -motionless fingers, carved in characters that ever last, the story of -earth’s loveliness upon the great blue dome of heaven. - -We pushed through the dense underwood, loaded down with all the -paraphernalia of our travel, and even Cerf-vola carried his load of -boots and moose-meat. When we had finished carrying our loads, it was -time for dinner; and that over, we set to work at once for the stiffer -labour of hauling the canoe up the rapid of the cañon; for, remember, -there was no hope of lifting her, she was too heavy, and the rocky -walls were far too steep to allow of it. Up along shore, through rapid -and eddy we dragged our craft, for here the north side had along its -base ledges of rock and bits of shore, and taking advantage of these, -sometimes in the canoe and sometimes out of it in the water, we reached -at length the last edge or cliff round which it was possible to proceed -at the north shore. - -For a long time we examined the spot, and the surrounding cañon. -Jacques and I climbed up to the top above, and then down on hands and -knees to a ledge from which we could look over into the chasm, and scan -its ugly features. Beyond a doubt it was ugly--the rock on which we lay -hollowed down beneath us until it roofed the shore of the cañon with a -half cavern, against which a wild whirlpool boiled up now and again, -sinking suddenly into stillness. Even if we could stretch a line from -above the rock to where our canoe lay below it, she must have been -knocked to atoms in the whirlpool in her passage beneath the cavern; -but the distance was too great to stretch a line across. The next and -only course was to make a bold crossing from below the rock, and gain -the other shore, up which it was possible to drag our canoe. Once over, -the thing would be easy enough for at least a couple of hundred yards -more. - -We climbed back to the canoe and imparted the result of our -investigation to the other two men. From the level of the boat the -proposed crossing looked very nasty. It was across a wild rush of -water, in the centre of the cañon, and if we failed to make a small -eddy at the farther shore we must drive full upon the precipice of rock -where, below us boiled and seethed the worst rapid in the cañon--a mass -of wave, and foam, and maddened surge. Once out of the sheltering eddy -in which we lay watching this wild scene, we would be in the midst of -the rush close above the rapid. There was no time to get headway on the -canoe. It would shoot from shelter into furious current, and then, if -it missed yon little eddy, look out; and if you have any good angels -away at home, pray that they may be praying for you--for down that -white fall of water you must go broadside or stern on. - -[Illustration: RUNNING STERN FOREMOST THE BLACK CAÑON.] - -The more we looked at it, the less we liked it; but it was the sole -means of passing the cañon, and retreat came not yet into our heads. -We took our places--Kalder at the bow, Jacques at the stern, A---- and -I in the middle; then we hugged the rock for the last time, and shoved -out into the swirl of waters. There was no time to think; we rose and -fell; we dipped our paddles in the rushing waves with those wild quick -strokes which men use when life is in the blow; and then the cañon -swung and rocked for a second, and with a wild yell of Indian war-whoop -from Kalder, which rose above the rush of the water, we were in the -eddy at the farther shore. - -It was well done. On again up the cañon with line from rock to rock, -bit by bit, until, as the sun began to slope low upon the forest, we -reach the foot of the last fall--the stiffest we had yet breasted. -Above it lies our camp upon the north shore; above it will be easy -work--we will have passed the worst of the Ominica River. - -Made bold by former victory we passed our line round the rock, and bent -our shoulders to haul the canoe up the slant of water. Kalder with a -long pole held the frail craft out from the rock. A---- and I were on -the line, and Jacques was running up to assist us, when suddenly there -came upon the rope a fierce strain; all at once the canoe seemed to -have the strength of half a dozen runaway horses. It spun us round, we -threw all our strength against it, and snap went the rope midway over -the water; the boat had suddenly sheered, and all was over. We had a -second line fastened to the bow; this line was held by Kalder at the -moment of the accident, but it was in loose coils about him, and of -no service to stay the downward rush. Worse than all, the canoe, now -going like an arrow down the rapid, tightened the tangled coils around -Kalder’s legs, and I saw with horror that he ran every chance of being -dragged feet foremost from the smooth rock on which he stood, into the -boiling torrent beneath. - -Quicker than thought he realized his peril; he sprang from the -treacherous folds, and dragged with all his strength the quick-running -rope clear of his body; and then, like the Indian he was, threw all his -weight to stay the canoe. - -It was useless; his line snapped like ours had done, and away went -the canoe down the surge of water--down the lip of the fall--away, -away--bearing with her our sole means of travel through the trackless -wilderness! We crouched together on the high rock, which commanded -a long view down the Black Cañon, and gazed wistfully after our -vanishing boat. - -In one instant we were reduced to a most wretched state. Our canoe -was gone; but that was not half our loss--our meat and tent had also -gone with her; and we were left on the south shore of the river, while -a deep, wide and rapid stream rolled between us and our camp, and we -had no axe wherewith to cut trees for a raft--no line to lash them -together. Night was coming on; we were without food, shipwrecked in the -wilderness. - -When the canoe had vanished, we took stock of all these things, and -then determined on a course. It was to go back along the upper edge -of the cañon to the entrance opposite our camping-place of the last -night, there to make a raft from some logs which had been collected for -a _cache_ in the previous year, then to put together whatever line or -piece of string we possessed, and, making a raft, endeavour to cross to -the north shore, and thus gain our camp above the cañon. - -It was a long piece of work, and we were already tired with the day’s -toil, but it was the sole means by which we could hope to get back to -our camp and to food again. After that we would deliberate upon further -movements. - -When men come heavily to grief in any enterprise, the full gravity of -the disaster does not break all at once upon their minds; nay, I have -generally found that the first view of the situation is the ludicrous -one. One is often inclined to laugh over some plight, which means -anything but a laughing matter in reality. - -We made our way to the mouth of the cañon, and again held a council. -Jacques did not like the idea of the raft; he would go down through the -Beaver swamps along the south shore, and, it might be, find the canoe -stranded on some beach lower down. Anyhow he would search, and next -morning he would come up again along the river and hail us across the -water in our camp with tidings of his success: so we parted. - -We at once set to work to make our raft. We upset the logs of the old -_cache_, floated them in the water, and lashed them together as best -we could, with all the bits of line we could fasten together; then we -got three rough poles, took our places on the rickety raft, and put -out into the turbid river. Our raft sank deep into the water; down, -down we went; no bottom for the poles, which we used as paddles in the -current. At last we reached the shore of a large island, and our raft -was thrown violently amidst a pile of driftwood. We scrambled on shore, -broke our way through drift and thicket to the upper end of the island, -and found a wide channel of water separating us still from the north -shore. Wading up to our middles across a shallow part of this channel, -we finally reached the north shore and our camp of the previous night; -from thence we worked through the forest, and just at dusk we struck -our camp of the morning. Thus, after many vicissitudes and much toil, -we had got safely back to our camp; and though the outlook was dreary -enough--for three large rivers and seventy miles of trackless forest -lay between us and the mining camp to which we were tending, while -all hope of assistance seemed cut off from us--still, after a hearty -supper, we lay down to sleep, ready to meet on the morrow whatever it -might bring forth. - -Early next morning the voice of little Jacques sounded from the other -side. He had had a rough time of it; he had gone through slough and -swamp and thicket, and finally he had found the canoe stranded on an -island four miles below the cañon, half full of water, but otherwise -not much the worse for her trip. “Let us make a raft and go down, and -we would all pull her up again, and everything would yet be right.” So, -taking axes and line with us, we set off once more for the mouth of the -cañon, and built a big raft of dry logs, and pushed it out into the -current. - -Jacques was on the opposite shore, so we took him on our raft, and away -we went down current at the rate of seven miles an hour. We reached -the island where our castaway canoe lay, and once more found ourselves -the owners of a boat. Then we poled up to the cañon again, and, working -hard, succeeded in landing the canoe safely behind the rock from -which we had made our celebrated crossing on the previous day. The -day was hot and fine, the leaves of the cotton-wood were green, the -strawberries were in blossom, and in the morning a humming-bird had -fluttered into the camp, carrying the glittering colours which he had -gathered in the tropics. But these proofs of summer boded ill for us, -for all around the glittering hills were sending down their foaming -torrents to flood the Ominica. - -On the night of the 13th the river, already high, rose nearly two feet. -The morning of the 14th came, and, as soon as breakfast was over, we -set out to make a last attempt to force the cañon. The programme was -to be the same as that of two days ago; to cross above the rapid, and -then with double-twisted line to drag the canoe up the fatal fall! We -reached the canoe and took our places the same as before. This time, -however, there was a vague feeling of uneasiness in every one’s mind; -it may have been because we went at the work coldly, unwarmed by -previous exercise; but despite the former successful attempt, we felt -the presage of disaster ere we left the sheltering rock. Once more -the word was given, and we shot into the boiling flood. There was a -moment’s wild struggle, during which we worked with all the strength of -despair. A second of suspense, and then we are borne backwards--slowly, -faster, yet faster--until with a rush as of wings, and amid a roar of -maddened water, we go downwards towards the cañon’s wall. - -“The rock! the rock!--keep her from the rock!” roared Jacques. We might -as well have tried to stop an express train. We struck, but it was the -high bow, and the blow split us to the centre; another foot and we must -have been shivered to atoms. And now, ere there was time for thought, -we were rushing, stern foremost, to the edge of the great rapid. There -was no escape; we were as helpless as if we had been chained in that -black cañon. “Put steerway on her!” shouted Jacques, and his paddle -dipped a moment in the surge and spray. Another instant and we were in -it; there was a plunge--a dash of water on every side of us; the waves -hissed around and above us, seeming to say, “Now we have got you; for -two days you have been edging along us, flanking us, and fooling us; -but now it is our turn!” - -The shock with which we struck into the mass of breakers seemed but -the prelude to total wreck, and the first sensation I experienced -was one of surprise that the canoe was still under us. But, after the -first plunge she rose well, and amidst the surge and spray we could -see the black walls of the cañon flitting by us as we glanced through -the boiling flood. All this was but the work of a moment, and lo! -breathless and dripping, with canoe half filled, we lay safe in quiet -eddies where, below the fall, the water rested after its strife. - -Behind the rock we lay for a few minutes silent, while the flooded -canoe rose and fell upon the swell of the eddy. - -If, after this escape, we felt loth to try the old road again, to -venture a third time upon that crossing above the rapid, let no man -hold our courage light. - -We deliberated long upon what was best to be done. Retreat seemed -inevitable; Kalder was strongly opposed to another attempt; the canoe -was already broken, and with another such blow she must go to pieces. -At last, and reluctantly, we determined to carry all our baggage back -from the camp, to load up the boat, and, abandoning the Black Cañon -and the Ominica altogether, seek through the Parsnip River an outlet -towards the South. It was our only resource, and it was a poor one. -Wearily we dragged our baggage back to the canoe, and loaded her again. -Then, casting out into the current, we ran swiftly down the remainder -of the cañon, and shot from beneath the shadows of its sombre walls. As -we emerged from the mouth into the broader river, the sheen of coloured -blankets struck our sight on the south shore. - -In the solitudes of the North one is surprised at the rapidity with -which the eye perceives the first indication of human or animal -existence, but the general absence of life in the wilderness makes its -chance presence easily detected. - -We put to shore. There was a camp close to the spot where we had built -our first raft on the night of the disaster; blankets, three fresh -beavers, a bundle of traps, a bag of flour, and a pair of miner’s -boots. The last item engaged Jacques’s attention. He looked at the -soles, and at once declared them to belong to no less an individual -than Pete Toy, the Cornish miner; but where, meantime, was Pete? A -further inspection solved that question too. Pete was “portaging” -his load from the upper to the lower end of the cañon--he evidently -dreaded the flooded chasm too much to attempt its descent with a loaded -canoe. In a little while appeared the missing Pete, carrying on his -back a huge load. It was as we had anticipated--his canoe lay above -the rapids, ours was here below. Happy coincidence! We would exchange -crafts; Pete would load his goods in our boat, we would once again -carry our baggage to the upper end of the cañon, and there, taking his -canoe, pursue our western way. It was indeed a most remarkable meeting -to us. Here were we, after long days of useless struggle, after many -dangers and hair-breadth escapes amid the whirlpools and rapids of the -Black Chasm, about to abandon the Ominica River altogether, and to seek -by another route, well known to be almost impassable at high water, a -last chance of escape from the difficulties that beset us; and now, as -moody and discouraged, we turned our faces to begin the hopeless task, -our first glance was greeted, on emerging from the dismal prison, by a -most unlooked-for means of solving all our difficulties. Little wonder -if we were in high spirits, and if Pete, the Cornish miner, seemed a -friend in need. - -But before anything could be done to carry into effect this new -arrangement, Pete insisted upon our having a royal feast. He had -brought with him from the mining camp many luxuries; he had bacon, and -beans, and dried apples, and sugar, and flour, and we poor toilers had -only moose-meat and frozen potatoes and sugarless tea in our lessening -larders. So Pete set vigorously to work; he baked and fried, and cut -and sliced, and talked all the time, and in less than half an hour laid -out his feast upon the ground. I have often meditated over that repast -in after-time, and wondered if Pete really possessed the magic power of -transmuting the baser victuals known to us as pork, beans, and molasses -into golden comestibles, or had scarcity and the wilderness anything -to say to it? It was getting late when we broke up from the feast of -Toy, and, loading once more all our movables upon our backs, set out -to stagger for the last time to the west end of the portage. There the -canoe of the Cornish miner stood ready for our service; but the sun was -by this time below the ridges of the Ominica Mountains, and we pitched -our camp for the night beneath the spruce-trees of the southern shore. - -At break of day next morning we held our way to the west. It was a -fresh, fair dawn, soft with the odours of earth and air; behind us lay -the Black Cañon, conquered at last; and as its sullen roar died away -in distance, and before our canoe rose the snow-covered peaks of the -Central Columbian range, now looming but a few miles distant, I drew a -deep breath of satisfaction--the revulsion of long, anxious hours. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - The Untiring over-estimates his powers.--He is not particular - as to the nature of his dinner.--Toil and temper.--Farewell - to the Ominica.--Germansen.--The mining camp.--Celebrities. - - -In the struggle which it was our daily work to wage with Nature, whose -dead weight seemed to be bent on holding us back, the wear and tear of -the things of life had been considerable. Clothes we will say nothing -of--it is their function to go--but our rough life had told heavily -against less perishable articles. My aneroid was useless; my watch -and revolver slept somewhere beneath the Peace River; ammunition was -reduced to a few rounds, to be used only upon state occasions; but -to make up for every loss, and to counterbalance each misfortune, -Cerf-vola had passed in safety through rapid, wreck, and cañon. On -several occasions he had had narrow escapes. A fixed idea pervaded -his mind that he was a good hunting-dog; it was an utterly erroneous -impression upon his part, but he still clung to it with the tenacity I -have not unfrequently seen evinced by certain sporting individuals who -fancy themselves sportsmen; and as the impression sometimes leads its -human holders into strange situations, so also was Cerf-vola betrayed -into dangers by this unfortunate belief in his sporting propensities. -A very keen sense of smell enabled him to detect the presence of -bird or beast on shore or forest, but absence from the canoe usually -obliged him to swim the swollen river--a feat which resulted in his -being carried down sometimes out of sight on the impetuous torrent. -He swam slowly, but strongly, and his bushy tail seemed incapable of -submersion, remaining always upon the surface of the water. But about -this time an event occurred which by every rule of science should have -proved fatal to him. - -One evening, it was the 16th of May, our larder being low, we camped -early at the mouth of a river called the Ozalinca. Beaver were -plentiful, fish were numerous; and while I went in quest of the former -with my gun, Jacques got ready a few large cod-hooks, with bait and -line. I pushed my way up the Ozalinca, and soon reached a beaver-dam. -Stealing cautiously to the edge, I saw one old veteran busily engaged -in the performance of his evening swim; every now and again he -disappeared beneath the crystal water, rising again to the surface to -look around him with evident satisfaction; presently a younger beaver -appeared, and began to nibble some green willows beneath the water. -They were a little too far to afford a certain shot, so I waited, -watching the antics of this strangest denizen of American rivers. All -at once the old veteran caught sight of me; his tail flogged loudly on -the water, and down he went out of sight. I waited a long time, but he -never reappeared, and I was obliged to content myself with a couple of -ducks ere night closed over the pond. - -When I reached the camp on the Ominica River my three companions wore -long faces: the cause was soon told. Jacques had baited his hooks with -moose-meat; in an evil moment he had laid one of these upon the shore -ere casting it into the water; Cerf-vola had swallowed bait, hook, -and line in a single mouthful; the hook was no mere salmon-hook, but -one fully two inches in length, and of proportionate thickness--a -full-sized cod-hook. I turned to the dog; he lay close to my outspread -buffalo robe, watching the preparation of supper; he looked as unmoved -as though he had recently swallowed a bit of pemmican. One might have -fancied from his self-satisfied appearance that large fish-hooks had -ever formed a favourite article of food with him. I gave him the -greater portion of my supper, and he went to sleep as usual at my -head. I have merely to add that from that day to this he has been in -most excellent health. I can only attribute this fact to the quantity -of fish he had consumed in his career; a moderate computation would -allow him many thousand white fish and pike in the course of his life; -and as he only made one mouthful of a large white fish, the addition of -a fish-hook in the matter was of no consequence. - -Passing the mouths of the Mesalinca and the Ozalinca--two wild, -swollen torrents flowing through a labyrinth of mountain peaks from -the north-west--we entered, on the third day after leaving the cañon, -the great central snowy range of North-British Columbia. The Ominica -was here only a slant of water, 100 yards in breadth; it poured down a -raging flood with a velocity difficult to picture. - -We worked slowly on, now holding by the bushes that hung out from the -forest shore, now passing ropes around rocks and tree-stumps, and -dragging, poling, pushing, as best we could. The unusual toil brought -out the worst characteristics of my crew. Kalder worked like a horse -with a savage temper, and was in a chronic state of laying violent -hands upon the English miner, who, poor fellow, worked his best, but -failed to satisfy the expectations of the more athletic Indian. It was -no easy matter to keep the peace between them, and once, midway in a -rapid, my Indian leaped past me in the canoe, seized the unoffending -miner, and hurled him to the bottom of the boat. This was too much. I -caught hold of a paddle and quickly informed my red servitor that if -he did not instantly loosen his hold, my paddle would descend upon his -hot-tempered head; he cooled a little, and we resumed our upward way. - -But for all this Kalder was a splendid fellow. In toil, in difficulty, -in danger, alone he was worth two ordinary men; and in camp no better -wild man lived to cut, to carry, or to cook; to pitch a tent, or -portage a load--no, not from Yukon to wild Hudson’s Bay. - -On the night of the 19th of May we reached the mouth of the Wolverine -Creek, and camped at last by quiet water. We were worn and tired from -continuous toil. The ice-cold water in which we so frequently waded, -and which made the pole-handles like lumps of ice to the touch, had -begun to tell on hands and joints. Nevertheless, when at night the fire -dried our dripping clothes and warmed us again, the plate of pemmican -and cup of tea were relished, and we slept that sleep which is only -known when the pine-trees rock the tired wanderer into forgetfulness. - -The last rapid was passed, and now before us lay a broad and gentle -current, lying in long serpentine bends amid lofty mountains. So, on -the morning of the 20th, we paddled up towards the mining camp with -easy strokes. Around us lay misty mountains, showing coldly through -cloud-rift and billowy vapour. The high altitude, to which by such -incessant labour we had worked our way, was plainly visible in the -backward vegetation. We were nearing the snow-line once more, but still -the sheltered valleys were bursting forth into green, and spring was -piercing the inmost fastness of these far-north hills. - -And now I parted with the Ominica. It lay before us, far stretching to -the westward, amid cloud-capped cliffs and snowy peaks; known to the -gold-seeker for seventy miles yet higher and deeper into the land of -mountains, and found there to be still a large, strong river, flowing -from an unknown west. - -And yet it is but one of that score of rivers which, 2500 miles from -these mountains, seek the Arctic Sea, through the mighty gateway of the -Mackenzie. - -Late on the evening of the 20th of May I reached the mining camp of -Germansen, three miles south of the Ominica River. A queer place was -this mining camp of Germansen, the most northern and remote of all the -mines on the American continent. - -Deep in the bottom of a valley, from whose steep sides the forest had -been cleared or burned off, stood some dozen or twenty well-built -wooden houses; a few figures moved in the dreary valley, ditches and -drains ran along the hill-sides, and here and there men were at work -with pick and shovel in the varied toil of gold-mining. - -The history of Germansen Creek had been the history of a thousand -other creeks on the western continent. A roving miner had struck the -glittering pebbles; the news had spread. From Montana, from Idaho, from -California, Oregon, and Cariboo, men had flocked to this new find in -the far north. In 1871, 1200 miners had forced their way through almost -incredible hardships to the new field; provisions reached a fabulous -price; flour and pork sold at six and seven shillings a pound! The -innumerable sharks that prey upon the miner flocked in to reap the -harvest; some struck the golden dust, but the majority lost everything, -and for about the twentieth time in their lives became “dead broke;” -little was known of the severity of the season, and many protracted the -time of their departure for more southern winter quarters. Suddenly, -on their return march, the winter broke; horses and mules perished -miserably along the forest trail. At length the Frazer River was -reached, a few canoes were obtained, but the ice was fast filling in -the river. The men crowded into the canoes till they were filled to -the edge; three wretched miners could find no room; they were left on -the shore to their fate; their comrades pushed away. Two or three days -later the three castaways were found frozen stiff on the inhospitable -shore. - -The next summer saw fewer miners at the Camp, and this summer saw -fewer still; but if to-morrow another strike were to be made 500 miles -to the north of this remote Camp, hundreds would rush to it, caring -little whether their bones were left to mark the long forest trail. The -miner has ever got his dream of an El Dorado fresh and sanguine. No -disaster, no repeated failure will discourage him. His golden paradise -is always “away up” in some half-inaccessible spot in a wilderness of -mountains. Nothing daunts him in this wild search of his. Mountains, -rivers, cañons are the enemies he is constantly wrestling with. Nature -has locked her treasures of gold and silver in deep mountain caverns, -as though she would keep them from the daring men who strive to rob -her. But she cannot save them. When one sees this wonderful labour, -this delving into the bowels of rock and shingle, this turning and -twisting of river channel, and sluicing and dredging and blasting, -going on in these strange out-of-the-way places, the thought occurs, -if but the tenth part of this toil were expended by these men in the -ordinary avocations of life, they would all be rich or comfortable. -The miner cannot settle down--at least for a long time--the life has a -strange fascination for him; he will tell you that for one haul he has -drawn twenty blanks; he will tell you that he has lost more money in -one night at “faro,” or “poker,” than would suffice to have kept him -decently for five years; he will tell you that he has frequently to put -two dollars into the ground in order to dig one dollar out of it, and -yet he cannot give up the wild, free life. He is emphatically a queer -genius; and no matter what his country, his characteristics are the -same. It would be impossible to discipline him, yet I think that, were -he amenable to even a semblance of restraint and command, 40,000 miners -might conquer a continent. - -His knowledge of words is peculiar; he has a thousand phrases of his -own which it would be needless to follow him into. “Don’t prevaricate, -sir!” thundered a British Columbian judge to a witness from the mines, -“don’t prevaricate, sir!” “Can’t help it, judge,” answered the miner. -“Ever since I got a kick in the mouth from a mule that knocked my -teeth out, I prevaricate a good deal.” - -In the bottom of the valley, between the wooden houses and the rushing -creek of Germansen, I pitched my tent for a short time, and in the -course of a few days had the honour of becoming acquainted, either -personally or by reputation, with Doe English, Dancing Bill, Black -Jack, Dirty-faced Pete, Ned Walsh, Rufus Sylvester, and several others -among the leading “boys” of the northern mining country. I found them -men who under the rough garb of mountain miners had a large and varied -experience in wild life and adventure--generous, free-hearted fellows -too, who in the race for gold had not thrown off as dead weight, half -as much of human kindness as many of their brothers, who, on a more -civilized course, start for the same race too. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - Mr. Rufus Sylvester.--The Untiring developes a new sphere of - usefulness.--Mansen.--A last landmark. - - -On the evening of my arrival at Germansen Mr. Rufus Sylvester appeared -from the south, carrying the mail for the camp. Eleven days earlier -he had started from Quesnelle on the Frazer River; the trail was, he -said, in a very bad state; snow yet lay five feet deep on the Bald, and -Nation River Mountains; the rivers and streams were running bank-high; -he had swum his horses eleven times, and finally left them on the south -side of the Bald Mountains, coming on on foot to his destination. The -distance to Quesnelle was about 330 miles. Such was a summary of his -report. - -The prospect was not encouraging; but where movement is desired, if -people wait until prospects become encouraging, they will be likely -to rest stationary a long time. My plan of movement to the south was -this: I would dispense with everything save those articles absolutely -necessary to travel; food and clothing would be brought to the lowest -limits, and then, with our goods on our shoulders, and with Cerf-vola -carrying on his back a load of dry meat sufficient to fill his stomach -during ten days, we would set out on foot to cross the Bald Mountains. -Thirty miles from the mining Camp, at the south side of the mountain -range, Rufus Sylvester had left a horse and a mule; we would recover -them again, and, packing our goods upon them, make our way to Fort -St. James on the wild shores of Stuart’s Lake--midway on our journey -to where, on the bend of the Frazer River, the first vestige of -civilization would greet us at the city called Quesnelle. - -It was the 25th of May when, having loaded my goods upon the back of -a Hydah Indian from the coast, and giving Kalder a lighter load to -carry, I set off with Cerf-vola for the south. Idleness during the -past three weeks had produced a considerable change in the person of -the Untiring. He had grown fat and round, and it was no easy matter to -strap his bag of dry meat upon his back so as to prevent it performing -the feat known, in the case of a saddle on a horse’s back, by the term -“turning.” It appeared to be a matter of perfect indifference to the -Untiring whether the meat destined for his stomach was carried beneath -that portion of his body or above his back; he pursued the even tenour -of his way in either case, but a disposition on his part to “squat” -in every pool of water or patch of mud along the trail, perfectly -regardless of the position of his ten days’ rations, had the effect of -quickly changing its nature, when it was underneath him, from dry meat -to very wet meat, and making the bag which held it a kind of water-cart -for the drier portions of the trail. - -Twelve miles from Germansen Creek stood the other mining camp of -Mansen. More ditches, more drains, more miners, more drinking; two or -three larger saloons; more sixes and sevens of diamonds and debilitated -looking kings and queens of spades littering the dusty street; the -wrecks of “faro” and “poker” and “seven up” and “three-card monti;” -more Chinamen and Hydah squaws than Germansen could boast of; and -Mansen lay the same miserable-looking place that its older rival -had already appeared to me. Yet every person was kind and obliging. -Mr. Grahame, postmaster, dealer in gold-dust, and general merchant, -cooked with his own hands a most excellent repast, the discussion of -which was followed by further introductions to mining celebrities. -Prominent among many Joes and Davises and Petes and Bills, I recollect -one well-known name; it was the name of Smith. We have all known, I -presume, some person of that name. We have also known innumerable -prefixes to it, such as Sydney, Washington, Buckingham, &c., &c., but -here at Mansen dwelt a completely new Smith. No hero of ancient or -modern times had been called on to supply a prefix or a second name, -but in the person of Mr. Peace River Smith I recognized a new title for -the old and familiar family. - -Mr. Stirling’s saloon at Mansen was a very fair representation of -what, in this country, we would call a “public-house,” but in some -respects the saloon and the public differ widely. The American saloon -is eminently patriotic. Western America, and indeed America generally, -takes its “cocktails” in the presence of soul-stirring mementoes; from -above the lemons, the coloured wine-glass, the bunch of mint, and the -many alcoholic mixtures which stand behind the bar--General Washington, -Abraham Lincoln, and President Grant look placidly upon the tippling -miner; but though Mr. Stirling’s saloon could boast its card-tables, -its patriotic pictures, and its many “slings” and “juleps,” in one -important respect it fell far short of the ideal mining paradise. It -was not a hurdy-house; music and dancing were both wanting. It was a -serious drawback, but it was explained to me that Mansen had become -too much “played out” to afford to pay the piper, and hurdies had -never penetrated to the fastnesses of the Peace River mines. - -When the last mining hero had departed, I lay down in Mr. Grahame’s -sanctum, to snatch a few hours’ sleep ere the first dawn would call us -to the march. I lay on the postmaster’s bed while that functionary got -together his little bags of gold-dust, his few letters and mail matters -for my companion, Rufus Sylvester the express man. This work occupied -him until shortly before dawn, when he abandoned it to again resume the -duties of cook in preparing my breakfast. Day was just breaking over -the pine-clad hills as we bade adieu to this kind host, and with rapid -strides set out through the sleeping camp. Kalder, the Hydah Indian, -and the Untiring, had preceded us on the previous evening, and I was -alone with the express man, Mr. Rufus Sylvester. He carried on his -back a small, compact, but heavy load, some 600 ounces of gold-dust -being the weightiest item; but, nevertheless, he crossed with rapid -steps over the frozen ground. We carried in our hands snow-shoes for -the mountain range still lying some eight miles away. The trail led -o’er hill and through valley, gradually ascending for the first six -miles, until through breaks in the pines I could discern the snowy -ridges towards which we were tending. Soon the white patches lay around -us in the forest, but the frost was severe, and the surface was hard -under our mocassins. Finding the snow-crust was sufficient to bear our -weight, we _cachéd_ the snow-shoes and held our course up the mountain. -Deeper grew the snow; thinner and smaller became the pines--dwarf -things that hung wisps of blue-grey moss from their shrunken limbs. At -last they ceased to be around us, and the summit-ridges of the Bald -Mountain spread out under the low-hung clouds. The big white ptarmigan -_bleated_ like sheep in the thin frosty air. We crossed the topmost -ridge, where snow ever dwells, and saw beneath a far-stretching valley. -I turned to take a last look to the north; the clouds had lifted, the -sun had risen some time; away over an ocean of peaks lay the lofty -ridge I had named Galty More a fortnight earlier, when emerging from -the Black Cañon. He rose above us then the monarch of the range; now he -lay far behind, one of the last landmarks of the Wild North Land. - -We began to descend; again the sparse trees were around us; the snow -gradually lessened; and after five hours of incessant and rapid walking -we reached a patch of dry grass, where Kalder, the English miner, and -the Indians with the horses were awaiting us. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - British Columbia.--Boundaries again.--Juan de Fuça.--Carver.-- - The Shining Mountains.--Jacob Astor.--The monarch of - salmon.--Oregon.--Riding and tying.--Nation Lake.-- - The Pacific. - - -We have been a long time now in that portion of the American continent -which is known as British Columbia, and yet we have said but little of -its early life, or how it came into the limits of a defined colony. - -Sometime about that evening when we lay camped (now a long way back) -upon the hill where the grim face of Chimeroo looked blankly out upon -the darkening wilderness, we entered for the first time the territory -which bears the name of British Columbia. - -Nature, who, whether she forms a flower or a nation, never makes -a mistake, had drawn on the northern continent of America her own -boundaries. She had put the Rocky Mountains to mark the two great -divisions of East and West America. But the theory of natural -boundaries appears never to have elicited from us much support, and in -the instance now under consideration we seem to have gone not a little -out of our way to evince our disapprobation of Nature’s doings. - -It was the business of the Imperial Government a few years ago to -define the boundaries of the new province to which they were giving a -Constitution. - -The old North-West Fur Company had rested satisfied with the Rocky -Mountain frontier, but in the new document the Eastern line was defined -as follows: “And to the east, from the boundary of the United States -northwards to the Rocky Mountains, _and the one hundred and twentieth -meridian of West Longitude_.” Unfortunately, although the one hundred -and twentieth meridian is situated for a portion of its course in the -main range of the mountains, it does not lie altogether within them. - -The Rocky Mountains do not run north and south, but trend considerably -to the west; and the 120th meridian passes out into the prairie country -of the Peace River. In looking at this strangely unmeaning frontier, -where nature had already given such an excellent “divide,” and one -which had always been adopted by the early geographer, it seems only -rational to suppose that the framers of the new line lay under the -impression that mountain and meridian were in one and the same line. -Nor supposing such to be the case, would it be, by any means, the first -time that such an error had been made by those whose work it was to -frame our Colonial destiny. - -Well, let us disregard this rectification of boundary, and look at -British Columbia as Nature had made it. - -When, some seventy years ago, the Fur Company determined to push -their trade into the most remote recesses of the unknown territory -lying before them, a few adventurers following this same course which -I have lately taken, found themselves suddenly in a labyrinth of -mountains. These men named the mountain land “New Caledonia,” for -they had been nurtured in far Highland homes, and the grim pine-clad -steeps of this wild region, and the blue lakes lying lapped amid the -mountains, recalled the Loch’s and Ben’s of boyhood’s hours. ’Twas -long before they could make much of this new dominion. Mountains rose -on every side; white giants bald with age, wrapt in cloud, and cloaked -with pines. Cragged and scarped, and towering above valleys filled -with boulders, as though in bygone ages, when the old peaks had been -youngsters they had pelted each other with Titanic stones; which, -falling short, had filled the deep ravines that lay between them. - -But if the mountains in their vast irregularity defied the early -explorers, the rivers were even still more perplexing. Mountains have -a right to behave in an irregular kind of way, but rivers are usually -supposed to conduct themselves on more peaceful principles. In New -Caledonia they had apparently forgotten this rule; they played all -manner of tricks. They turned and twisted behind the backs of hills, -and came out just the very way they shouldn’t have come out. They -rose often close to the sea, and then ran directly away from it. They -pierced through mountain ranges in cañons and chasms; and the mountains -threw down stones at them, but that only made them laugh all the -louder, as they raced away from cañon to cañon. Sometimes they grew -wicked, and, turned viciously and bit, and worried the bases of the -hills, and ate trees and rocks and landslips; and then, over all their -feuds and bickerings, came Time at last, as he always does, and threw a -veil over the conflict; a veil of pine-trees. - -But in one respect both mountain and river seemed in perfect accord; -they would keep the land to themselves and their child, the wild -Indian; but the white man, the child of civilization, must be kept out. -Nevertheless the white man came in, and he named the rivers after his -own names, though they still laughed him to scorn, and were useless to -his commerce. Gradually this white fur-hunter spread himself through -the land; he passed the Frazer, reached the Columbia, and gained its -mouth; and here a strange rival presented himself. We must go back a -little. - -Once upon a time a Greek sailor was cast away on the shore, where the -northmost Mexican coast merged into unknown lands. - -He remained for years a wanderer; but when finally fate threw him again -upon Adriatic coasts, he was the narrator of strange stories, and the -projector of far distant enterprises. - -North of California’s shore, there was, he said, a large island. -Between this island and the mainland lay a gulf which led to those -other gulfs, which, on the Atlantic verge, Cartier and Hudson had made -known to Europe. - -In these days kings and viceroys gladly listened to a wanderer’s story. -The Greek was sent back to the coasts he had discovered, commissioned -to fortify the Straits he called Annian, against English ships seeking -through this outlet the northern passage to Cathay. - -Over the rest time has drawn a cloud. It is said that the Greek sailor -failed and died. His story became matter of doubt. More than 300 years -passed away; Cook sought in vain for the strait, and the gulf beyond it. - -Another English sailor was more fortunate; and in 1756 a lonely ship -passed between the island and the mainland, and the long, doubtful -channel was named “Juan de Fuça,” after the nickname of the forgotten -Greek. - -To fortify the Straits of Annian was deemed the dream of an enthusiast; -yet by a strange coincidence, we see to-day its realization, and the -Island of San Juan, our latest loss, has now upon its shores a hostile -garrison, bent upon closing the Straits of Fuça against the ships of -England. - -North of California, and south of British Columbia, there lies a vast -region. Rich in forest, prairie, snow-clad peak, alluvial meadow, hill -pasture, and rolling table-land. It has all that nature can give a -nation; its climate is that of England; its peaks are as lofty as Mont -Blanc; its meadows as rich as the vales of Somerset. - -The Spaniard knew it by repute, and named it Oregon, after the river -which we call the Columbia. Oregon was at that time the entire west of -the Rocky Mountains, to the north of California. Oregon had long been a -mystic land, a realm of fable. Carver, the indefatigable, had striven -to reach the great river of the west, whose source lay near that of -the Mississipi. The Indians had told him that where the Mississipi had -its birth in the shining mountains, another vast river also rose, and -flowed west into the shoreless sea. Carver failed to reach the shining -mountains; his dream remained to him. “Probably,” he writes, “in future -ages they (the mountains) may be found to contain more riches in their -bowels than those of Indostan or Malabar, or that are produced on the -golden Gulf of Guinea, nor will I except even the Peruvian mines.” -To-day that dream comes true, and from the caverns of the shining -mountains men draw forth more gold and silver than all these golden -realms enumerated by the baffled Carver ever produced. But the road -which Carver had pointed out was soon to be followed. - -In the first years of the new century men penetrated the gorges of the -shining mountain, and reached the great river of the west; but they -hunted for furs, and not for gold; and fur-hunters keep to themselves -the knowledge of their discoveries. Before long the great Republic born -upon the Atlantic shores began to stretch its infant arms towards the -dim Pacific. - -In 1792, a Boston ship entered the mouth of the Oregon river. - -The charts carried by the vessel showed no river upon the coast-line, -and the captain named the breaker-tossed estuary after his ship “the -Columbia.” He thought he had discovered a new river; in reality, he had -but found again the older known Oregon. It is more than probable, that -this new named river would again have found its ancient designation, -had not an enterprising German now appeared upon the scene. One Jacob -Astor, a vendor of small furs and hats, in New York, turned his eyes to -the west. - -He wished to plant upon the Pacific the germs of American fur trade. -The story of his enterprise has been sketched by a cunning hand; but -under the brilliant colouring which a great artist has thrown around -his tale of Astoria, the strong bias of the partisan is too plainly -apparent. Yet it is easy to detect the imperfect argument by which -Washington Irving endeavours to prove the right of the United States to -the disputed territory of Oregon. The question is one of “Who was first -upon the ground?” - -Irving claims, that Astor, in 1810, was the first trader who erected a -station on the banks of the Columbia. - -But in order to form his fort, Astor had to induce several of the -_employées_ of the North-West Fur Company to desert their service. -And Irving innocently tells us, that when the overland expedition -under Hunt reached the Columbia, they found the Indians well supplied -with European articles, which they had obtained from white traders -already domiciled west of the Rocky Mountains. He records the fact -while he misses its meaning. British fur traders had reached Oregon -long before Jacob Astor had planted his people on the estuary of the -Columbia. Astor’s factory had but a short life. The war of 1813 broke -out. A British ship appeared off the bar of the Columbia River, and the -North-West Company moving down the river became the owners of Astoria. -But with their usual astuteness the Government of the United States -claimed, at the conclusion of the war, the possession of Oregon, on -the ground that it had been theirs prior to the struggle. That it had -not been so, is evident to any person who will carefully inquire into -the history of the discovery of the North-West Coast, and the regions -lying west of the mountains. But no one cares to ask about such things, -and no one cared to do so, even when the question was one of greater -moment than it is at present. So, with the usual supineness which -has let drift from us so many fair realms won by the toil and daring -of forgotten sons, we parted at last with this magnificent region of -Oregon, and signed it over to our voracious cousins. - -It was the old story so frequently repeated. The country was useless; a -pine-forest, a wilderness, a hopeless blank upon the face of nature. - -To-day, Oregon is to my mind _the fairest State in the American Union_. - -There is a story widely told throughout British Columbia, which aptly -illustrates the past policy of Great Britain, in relation to her vast -Wild Lands. - -Stories widely told are not necessarily true ones; but this story has -about it the ring of probability. - -It is said that once upon a time a certain British nobleman anchored -his ship-of-war in the deep waters of Puget Sound. It was at a time -when discussion was ripe upon the question of disputed ownership in -Oregon, and this ship was sent out for the protection of British -interests on the shores of the North Pacific. She bore an ill-fated -name for British diplomacy. She was called the “America.” - -The commander of the “America” was fond of salmon fishing; the waters -of the Oregon were said to be stocked with salmon: the fishing would -be excellent. The mighty “Ekewan,” monarch of salmon, would fall a -victim to flies, long famous on waters of Tweed or Tay. Alas! for the -perverseness of Pacific salmon. No cunningly twisted hackle, no deftly -turned wing of mallard, summer duck, or jungle cock, would tempt the -blue and silver monsters of the Columbia or the Cowlitz Rivers. In -despair, his lordship reeled up his line, took to pieces his rod, and -wrote in disgust to his brother (a prominent statesman of the day) -that the whole country was a huge mistake; that even the salmon in its -waters was a fish of no principle, refusing to bite, to nibble, or to -rise. In fine, that the territory of Oregon, was not worthy of a second -thought. So the story runs. If it be not true, it has its birth in -that too true insularity which would be sublime, if it did not cost us -something like a kingdom every decade of years. - -Such has been the past of Oregon. It still retains a few associations -of its former owners. From its mass of forest, from its long-reaching -rivers, and above its ever green prairies, immense spire-shaped single -peaks rise up 14,000 feet above the Pacific level. Far over the blue -waters they greet the sailor’s eye, while yet the lower shore lies deep -sunken beneath the ocean sky-line. They are literally the “shining -mountains” of Carver, and seamen say that at night, far out at sea, -the Pacific waves glow brightly ’neath the reflected lustre of their -eternal snows. - -These solitary peaks bear English titles, and early fur-hunter, or -sailor-discoverer, have written their now forgotten names in snow-white -letters upon the blue skies of Oregon. - -But perhaps one of these days our cousins will change all that. - -Meantime, I have wandered far south from my lofty standpoint on the -snowy ridges of the Bald Mountains in Northern New Caledonia. - -Descending with rapid strides the mountain trail, we heard a faint -signal-call from the valley before us. It was from the party sent on -the previous evening, to await our arrival at the spot where Rufus -had left his worn-out horses a week before. A few miles more brought -us within sight of the blue smoke which promised breakfast--a welcome -prospect after six hours forced marching over the steep ridges of the -Bald Mountains. - -Two Indians, two miners, two thin horses, and one fat dog now formed -the camp before the fire, at which we rested with feelings of keen -delight. Tom, the “carrier” Indian, and Kalder, my trusty henchman, -had breakfast ready; and beans and bacon, to say nothing of jam and -white bread, were still sufficient novelties to a winter traveller, -long nourished upon the sole luxury of moose pemmican, to make eighteen -miles of mountain exercise a needless prelude to a hearty breakfast. -The meal over we made preparations for our march to the south. In -round numbers I was 300 miles from Quesnelle. Mountain, forest, swamp, -river, and lake, lay between me and that valley where the first vestige -of civilized travel would greet me on the rapid waters of the Frazer -River. - -Through all this land of wilderness a narrow trail held its way; now, -under the shadow of lofty pine forest; now, skirting the shores of -lonely lakes; now, climbing the mountain ranges of the Nation River, -where yet the snow lay deep amid those valleys whose waters seek -upon one side the Pacific, upon the other the Arctic Ocean. Between -me and the frontier “city” of Quesnelle lay the Hudson’s Bay Fort of -St. James, on the south-east shore of the lake called Stuart’s. Here -my companion Rufus counted upon obtaining fresh horses; but until we -could reach this half-way house, our own good legs must carry us, for -the steeds now gathered into the camp were as poor and weak as the -fast travel and long fasting of the previous journey could make them. -They were literally but skin and bone, and it was still a matter of -doubt whether they would be able to carry our small stock of food and -blankets, in addition to their own bodies, over the long trail before -us. - -Packing our goods upon the backs of the skeleton steeds, we set out -for the south. Before proceeding far a third horse was captured. -He proved to be in better condition than his comrades. A saddle was -therefore placed on his back, and he was handed over to me by Rufus in -order that we should “ride and tie” during the remainder of the day. -In theory this arrangement was admirable; in practice it was painfully -defective. The horse seemed to enter fully into the “tying” part of -it, but the “riding” was altogether another matter. I think nothing -but the direst starvation would have induced that “cayoose” to deviate -in any way from his part of the tying. No amount of stick or whip or -spur would make him a party to the riding. At last he rolled heavily -against a prostrate tree, bruising me not a little by the performance. -He appeared to have serious ideas of fancying himself “tied” when in -this reclining position, and it was no easy matter to disentangle -oneself from his ruins. After this I dissolved partnership with Rufus, -and found that walking was a much less fatiguing, and less hazardous -performance, if a little less exciting. - -We held our way through a wild land of hill and vale and swamp for some -fifteen or sixteen miles, and camped on the edge of a little meadow, -where the old grass of the previous year promised the tired horses a -scanty meal. It was but a poor pasturage, and next morning one horse -proved so weak that we left him to his fate, and held on with two -horses towards the Nation River. Between us and this Nation River lay -a steep mountain, still deep in snow. We began its ascent while the -morning was yet young. - -Since daylight it had snowed incessantly; and in a dense driving -snow-storm we made the passage of the mountain. - -The winter’s snow lay four feet deep upon the trail, and our horses -sunk to their girths at every step. Slowly we plodded on, each horse -stepping in the old footprints of the last journey, and pausing often -to take breath in the toilsome ascent. At length the summit was -reached; but a thick cloud hung over peak and valley. Then the trail -wound slowly downwards, and by noon we reached the shore of a dim lake, -across whose bosom the snow-storm swept as though the time had been -mid-November instead of the end of May. - -We passed the outlet of the Nation Lake (a sheet of water some -thirty-five miles in length, lying nearly east and west), and held our -way for some miles along its southern shore. In the evening we had -reached a green meadow, on the banks of a swollen stream. - -While Rufus and I were taking the packs off the tired horses, -preparatory to making them swim the stream; a huge grizzly bear came -out upon the opposite bank and looked at us for a moment. The Indians -who were behind saw him approach us, but they were too far from us to -make their voices audible. A tree crossed the stream, and the opposite -bank rose steeply from the water to the level meadow above. Bruin was -not twenty paces from us, but the bank hid him from our view; and when -I became aware of his proximity he had already made up his mind to -retire. Grizzlies are seldom met under such favourable circumstances. -A high bank in front, a level meadow beyond, I long regretted the -chance, lost so unwittingly, and our cheerless bivouac that night in -the driving sleet would have been but little heeded, had my now rusty -double-barrel spoken its mind to our shaggy visitor. But one cannot -always be in luck. - -All night long it rained and sleeted and snowed, and daylight broke -upon a white landscape. We got away from camp at four o’clock, and held -on with rapid pace until ten. By this hour we had reached the summit -of the table-land “divide” between the Arctic and Pacific Oceans. It -is almost imperceptible, its only indication being the flow of water -south, instead of north-east. The day had cleared, but a violent storm -swept the forest, crashing many a tall tree prostrate to the earth; and -when we camped for dinner, it was no easy matter to select a spot safe -from the dangers of falling pine-trees. - -As I quitted this Arctic water-shed, and stood on the height of land -between the two oceans, memory could not help running back, over the -many scenes which had passed, since on that evening after leaving the -Long Portage, I had first entered the river systems of the North. - -Full 1300 miles away lay the camping-place of that evening; and as the -many long hours of varied travel rose up again before me, snow-swept, -toil-laden, full at times of wreck and peril and disaster; it was not -without reason that, turning away from the cold northern landscape, I -saluted with joy the blue pine-tops, through which rolled the broad -rivers of the Pacific. - -[Illustration: “THE LOOK-OUT MOUNTAIN.”] - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - The Look-out Mountain.--A gigantic tree.--The Untiring retires - before superior numbers.--Fort St. James.--A strange sight - in the forest.--Lake Noola.--Quesnelle.--Cerf-vola in - civilized life.--Old dog, good-bye. - - -We marched that day over thirty miles, and halted in a valley of -cotton-wood trees, amid green leaves again. We were yet distant about -forty-five miles from the Fort St. James, but my friend Rufus declared -that a rapid march on the morrow would take us to the half-way house by -sun-down. Rapid marches had long since become familiar, and one more or -less did not matter much. - -Daybreak found us in motion; it was a fast walk, it was a faster walk, -it was a run, and ere the mid-day sun hung over the rich undulating -forest-land, we were thirty miles from our camp in the cotton-wood. -Before noon, a lofty ridge rose before us; the trail wound up its long -ascent, Rufus called it “the Look-out Mountain.” The top was bare of -forest, the day was bright with sunshine; not a cloud lay over the vast -plateau of Middle New Caledonia. - -Five hundred snowy peaks rose up along the horizon: the Nation Lake -Mountains, the further ranges of the Ominica, the ridges which lie -between the many tributaries of the Peace and the countless lakes of -the North Frazer. Babine, Tatla, Pinkley, Stuart’s, and far off to -the west the old monarchs of the Rocky Mountains rose up to look a -last farewell to the wanderer, who now carried away to distant lands -a hundred memories of their lonely beauty. On the south slope of the -Look-out Mountain, a gigantic pine-tree first attracts the traveller’s -eye; its seamed trunk is dusky red, its dark and sombre head is lifted -high above all other trees, and the music which the winds make through -its branches seems to come from a great distance. It is the Douglas -Pine of the Pacific coast, the monarch of Columbian forests, a tree -which Turner must have seen in his dreams. - -A few miles south of the mountain, the country opened out into pleasant -prairies fringed with groves of cotton-wood; the grass was growing -thick and green, the meadows were bright with flowers. Three fat horses -were feeding upon one of these meadows; they were the property of -Rufus. We caught them with some little difficulty, and turned our two -poor thin animals adrift in peace and plenty; then mounting the fresh -steeds, Rufus and I hurried on to Fort St. James. - -The saddle was a pleasant change after the hard marching of the last -few days. Mud and dust and stones, alternating with the snow of the -mountains, had told heavily against our moccassined feet; but the worst -was now over, and henceforth we would have horses to Quesnelle. - -It was yet some time before sun-down when we cantered down the sloping -trail which leads to the Fort St. James. Of course the Untiring was -at his usual post--well to the front. Be it dog-train, or march on -foot, or march with horses, the Untiring led the van, his tail like -the plume of Henry of Navarre at Ivry, ever waving his followers to -renewed exertions. It would be no easy matter for me to enumerate all -the Hudson’s Bay forts which the Untiring had entered at the head of -his train. Long and varied experience had made him familiar with every -description of post, from the imposing array of wooden buildings which -marked the residence of a chief factor, down to the little isolated hut -wherein some half-breed servant carries on his winter traffic on the -shore of a nameless lake. - -Cerf-vola knew them all. Freed from his harness in the square of a -fort--an event which he usually accelerated by dragging his sled and -three other dogs to the doorway of the principal house--he at once made -himself master of the situation, paying particular attention to two -objective points. First, the intimidation of resident dogs; second, -the topography of the provision store. Ten minutes after his entry -into a previously unexplored fort, he knew to a nicety where the white -fish were kept, and where the dry meat and pemmican lay. But on this -occasion at Fort St. James a woful disaster awaited him. - -With the memory of many triumphal entries full upon him, he now led -the way into the square of the fort, totally forgetting that he was no -longer a hauling-dog, but a free lance or a rover on his own account. -In an instant four huge haulers espied him, and charging from every -side ere I could force in upon the conflict to balance sides a little, -they completely prostrated the hitherto invincible Esquimaux, and at -his last Hudson Bay post, near the close of his 2500 mile march, he -experienced his first defeat. We rescued him from his enemies before he -had suffered much bodily hurt, but he looked considerably tail-fallen -at this unlooked-for reception, and passed the remainder of the day in -strict seclusion underneath my bed. - -Stuart’s Lake is a very beautiful sheet of water. Tall mountains -rise along its western and northern shores, and forest promontories -stretch far into its deep blue waters. It is the favourite home of the -salmon, when late in summer he has worked his long, toilsome way up the -innumerable rapids of the Frazer, 500 miles from the Pacific. - -Colossal sturgeon are also found in its waters, sometimes weighing as -much as 800 pounds. With the exception of rabbits, game is scarce, -along the shores, but at certain times rabbits are found in incredible -numbers; the Indian women snare them by sacksful, and every one lives -on rabbit, for when rabbits are numerous, salmon are scarce. - -The daily rations of a man in the wide domain of the Hudson’s Bay -Company are singularly varied. - -On the south shores of Hudson’s Bay a _voyageur_ receives every day one -wild goose; in the Saskatchewan he gets ten pounds of buffalo-meat; -in Athabasca eight pounds of moose-meat; in English River three large -white fish; in the North, half fish and reindeer; and here in New -Caledonia he receives for his day’s food eight rabbits or one salmon. -Start not, reader, at the last item! The salmon is a dried one, and -does not weigh more than a pound and a half in its reduced form. - -After a day’s delay at Fort St. James, we started again on our southern -road. A canoe carried us to a point some five and twenty miles lower -down the Stuart’s River--a rapid stream of considerable size, which -bears the out-flow of the lake and of the long line of lakes lying -north of Stuart’s, into the main Frazer River. - -I here said good-bye to Kalder, who was to return to Peace River on the -following day. A whisky saloon in the neighbourhood of the fort had -proved too much for this hot-tempered half-breed, and he was in a state -of hilarious grief when we parted. “He had been very hasty,” he said, -“would I exsqueeze him, as he was sorry; he would always go with this -master again if he ever came back to Peace River;” and then the dog -caught his eye, and overpowered by his feelings he vanished into the -saloon. - -Guided by an old carrier Indian chief, the canoe swept out of the -beautiful lake and ran swiftly down the Stuart’s River. By sun-down we -had reached the spot where the trail crosses the stream, and here we -camped for the night; our horses had arrived before us under convoy of -Tom the Indian. - -On the following morning, the 31st of May, we reached the banks of the -Nacharcole River, a large stream flowing from the west; open prairies -of rich land fringed the banks of this river, and far as the eye could -reach to the west no mountain ridge barred the way to the Western Ocean. - -This river has its source within twenty miles of the Pacific, and -is without doubt the true line to the sea for a northern railroad, -whenever Canada shall earnestly take in hand the work of riveting -together the now widely-severed portions of her vast dominion; but to -this subject I hope to have time to devote a special chapter in the -Appendix to this book, now my long journey is drawing to a close, and -these latter pages of its story are written amid stormy waves, where -a southward-steering ship reels on beneath the shadow of Madeira’s -mountains. - -Crossing the wide Nacharcole River, and continuing south for a few -miles, we reached a broadly cut trail which bore curious traces of -past civilization. Old telegraph poles stood at intervals along the -forest-cleared opening, and rusted wire hung in loose festoons down -from their tops, or lay tangled amid the growing brushwood of the -cleared space. A telegraph in the wilderness! What did it mean? - -When civilization once grasps the wild, lone spaces of the earth it -seldom releases its hold; yet here civilization had once advanced -her footsteps, and apparently shrunk back again frightened at her -boldness. It was even so; this trail, with its ruined wire, told of -the wreck of a great enterprise. While yet the Atlantic cable was -an unsettled question, a bold idea sprung to life in the brain of -an American. It was to connect the Old World and the New, by a wire -stretched through the vast forests of British Columbia and Alaska, to -the Straits of Behring; thence across the Tundras of Kamtschatka, and -around the shores of Okhotsk the wires would run to the Amoor River, to -meet a line which the Russian Government would lay from Moscow to the -Pacific. - -It was a grand scheme, but it lacked the elements of success, because -of ill-judged route and faulty execution. The great Telegraph Company -of the United States entered warmly into the plan. Exploring parties -were sent out; one pierced these silent forests; another surveyed the -long line of the Yukon; another followed the wintry shores of the Sea -of Okhotsk, and passed the Tundras of the black Gulf of Anadir. - -Four millions of dollars were spent in these expeditions. Suddenly -news came that the Atlantic cable was an accomplished fact. Brunel had -died of a broken heart; but the New World and the Old had welded their -thoughts together, with the same blow that broke his heart. - -Europe spoke to America beneath the ocean, and the voice which men had -sought to waft through the vast forests of the Wild North Land, and -over the Tundras of Siberia, died away in utter desolation. - -So the great enterprise was abandoned, and to-day from the lonely -shores of Lake Babine to the bend of the Frazer at Quesnelle, the -ruined wire hangs loosely through the forest. - -During the first two days of June we journeyed through a wild, -undulating country, filled with lakes and rolling hills; grassy -openings were numerous, and many small streams stocked with fish -intersected the land. - -The lakes of this northern plateau are singularly beautiful. Many isles -lie upon their surface; from tiny promontories the huge Douglas pine -lifts his motionless head. The great northern diver, the loon, dips -his white breast in the blue wavelets, and sounds his melancholy cry -through the solitude. I do not think that I have ever listened to a -sound which conveys a sense of indescribable loneliness so completely -as this wail, which the loon sends at night over the forest shores. The -man who wrote - - “And on the mere the wailing died away” - -must have heard it in his dreams. - -We passed the noisy Indian village of Lake Noola and the silent Indian -graves on the grassy shore of Lake Noolkai, and the evening of the 2nd -of June found us camped in the green meadows of the West Road River, -up which a white man first penetrated to the Pacific Ocean just eighty -years ago. - -A stray Indian came along with news of disaster. A canoe had upset -near the cotton-wood cañon of the Frazer, and the Hudson’s Bay officer -at Fort George had gone down beneath a pile of driftwood, in the -whirlpools of the treacherous river. The Indian had been with him, but -he had reached the shore with difficulty, and was now making his way to -Fort St. James, carrying news of the catastrophe. - -Forty more miles brought us to the summit of a ridge, from which a -large river was seen flowing in the centre of a deep valley far into -the south. Beyond, on the further shore, a few scattered wooden houses -stood grouped upon a level bank; the wild rose-trees were in blossom; -it was summer in the forest, and the evening air was fragrant with the -scent of flowers. - -I drew rein a moment on the ridge, and looked wistfully back along the -forest trail. - -Before me spread civilization and the waters of the Pacific; behind me, -vague and vast, lay a hundred memories of the Wild North Land. - - * * * * * - -For many reasons it is fitting to end this story here. Between the -ridge on the west shore of the Frazer and those scattered wooden -houses on the east, lies a gulf wider than a score of valleys. On one -side man--on the other the wilderness; on one side noise of steam -and hammer--on the other voice of wild things and the silence of the -solitude. - -It is still many hundred miles ere I can hope to reach anything save a -border civilization. The road which runs from Quesnelle to Victoria is -400 miles in length. Washington territory, Oregon, and California have -yet to be traversed ere, 1500 miles from here, the golden gate of San -Francisco opens on the sunset of the Pacific Ocean. - -Many scenes of beauty lie in that long track hidden in the bosom of -the Sierras. The Cascades Ranier, Hood, and Shasta will throw their -shadows across my path as the Untiring dog and his now tired master, -wander south towards the grim Yosemite; but to link these things into -the story of a winter journey across the yet untamed wilds of the Great -North would be an impossible task. - -One evening I stood in a muddy street of New York. A crowd had gathered -before the door of one of those immense buildings which our cousins -rear along their city thoroughfares and call hotels. The door opened, -and half a dozen dusky men came forth. - -“Who are they?” I asked. - -“They are the Sioux chiefs from the Yellowstone,” answered a bystander; -“they’re a taking them to the the-a-ter, to see Lester Wallick.” - -Out on the Great Prairie I had often seen the red man in his boundless -home; savage if you will, but still a power in the land, and fitting in -every way the wilds in which he dwells. The names of Red Cloud and his -brother chiefs from the Yellowstone were household words to me. It was -this same Red Cloud who led his 500 whooping warriors on Fetterman’s -troops, when not one soldier escaped to tell the story of the fight in -the foot-hills of the Wyoming Mountains; and here was Red Cloud now in -semi-civilized dress, but still a giant ’midst the puny rabble that -thronged to see him come forth; with the gaslight falling on his dusky -features and his eyes staring in bewildered vacancy at the crowd around -him. - -Captain Jack was right: better, poor hunted savage, thy grave in the -lava-beds, than this burlesque union of street and wilderness! But -there was one denizen of the wilds who followed my footsteps into -southern lands, and of him the reader might ask, “What more?” - -Well, the Untiring took readily to civilization; he looked at Shasta, -he sailed on the Columbia River, he climbed the dizzy ledges of the -Yosemite, he gazed at the Golden Gate, and saw the sun sink beyond the -blue waves of the great Salt Lake, but none of these scenes seemed to -affect him in the slightest degree. - -He journeyed in the boot or on the roof of a stage-coach for more than -800 miles; he was weighed once as extra baggage, and classified and -charged as such; he conducted himself with all possible decorum in the -rooms and corridors of the grand hotel at San Francisco; he crossed the -continent in a railway carriage to Montreal and Boston, as though he -had been a first-class passenger since childhood; he thought no more of -the reception-room of Brigham Young in Utah, than had he been standing -on a snow-drift in Athabasca Lake; he was duly photographed and petted -and pampered, but he took it all as a matter of course. - -There were, however, two facts in civilization which caused him -unutterable astonishment--a brass band, and a butcher’s stall. He fled -from the one; he howled with delight before the other. - -I frequently endeavoured to find out the cause of his aversion to -music. Although he was popularly supposed to belong to the species -of savage beast, music had anything but a soothing effect upon him. -Whenever he heard a band, he fled to my hotel; and once, when they were -burying a renowned general of volunteers in San Francisco with full -military honours, he caused no small confusion amidst the mournful -cortége by charging full tilt through the entire crowd. - -But the butcher’s stall was something to be long remembered. Six or -eight sheep, and half as many fat oxen hung up by the heels, apparently -all for his benefit, was something that no dog could understand. -Planting himself full before it, he howled hilariously for some -moments, and when with difficulty I succeeded in conducting him to the -seclusion of my room, he took advantage of my absence to remove with -the aid of his teeth the obnoxious door-panel which intervened between -him and this paradise of mutton. - -On the Atlantic shore I bid my old friend a long good-bye. It was -night; and as the ship sailed away from the land, and I found myself -separated for the first time during so many long months from the friend -and servant and partner who - - Thro’ every swift vicissitude - Of changeful time, unchanged had stood, - -I strung together these few rhymes, which were not the less true -because they were only - - -MORE DOGGEREL. - - Old dog, good-bye, the parting time has come, - Hero on the verge of wild Atlantic foam; - He who would follow, when fast beats the drum, - Must have no place of rest, no dog, no home. - - And yet I cannot leave thee even here, - Where toil and cold in peace and rest shall end, - Poor faithful partner of a wild career, - Through icy leagues my sole unceasing friend, - - Without one word to mark our long good-bye, - Without a line to paint that wintry dream, - When day by day, old Husky, thou, and I, - Toiled o’er the great Unchagah’s frozen stream. - - For now, when it is time to go, strange sights - Rise from the ocean of the vanish’d year, - And wail of pines, and sheen of northern lights, - Flash o’er the sight and float on mem’ry’s ear. - - We cross again the lone, dim shrouded lake, - Where stunted cedars bend before the blast; - Again the camp is made amidst the brake, - The pine-log’s light upon thy face is cast. - - We talk together, yes--we often spent - An hour in converse, while my bit thou shared. - One eye, a friendly one, on me was bent; - The other, on some comrade fiercely glared. - - Deep slept the night, the owl had ceased his cry, - Unbroken stillness o’er the earth was shed; - And crouch’d beside me thou wert sure to lie, - Thy rest a watching, snow thy only bed. - - The miles went on, the tens ’neath twenties lay; - The scores to hundreds slowly, slowly, roll’d; - And ere the winter wore itself away, - The hundreds turn’d to thousands doubly told. - - But still thou wert the leader of the band, - And still thy step went on thro’ toil and pain; - Until like giants in the Wild North Land, - A thousand glittering peaks frown’d o’er the plain. - - And yet we did not part; beside me still - Was seen thy bushy tail, thy well-known face; - Through cañon dark, and by the snow-clad hill, - Thou kept unchanged thy old familiar pace. - - Why tell it all? through fifty scenes we went, - Where Shasta’s peak its lonely shadows cast; - Till now for Afric’s shore my steps are bent, - And thou and I, old friend, must part at last. - - Thou wilt not miss me, home and care are thine, - And peace and rest will lull thee to the end; - But still, perchance with low and wistful whine, - Thou’lt sometimes scan the landscape for thy friend. - - Or when the drowsy summer noon is nigh, - Or wintry moon upon the white snow shines, - From dreamy sleep will rise a muffled cry, - For him who led thee through the land of pines. - - - - -POSTSCRIPT - -FOR THE EDITION OF 1907. - - -I have been asked to write a few new words for this old book, and it is -not easy to do it. Most of the men and all the dogs of that wild time -in the North are dead. I have never been able to understand why dogs -should have short lives, and so many other things, such as tortoises, -elephants, carp, and even men, should have long lives. - -A few months ago I saw at St. Helena two tortoises which were said -to have been at Plantation House for more than one hundred years. -During a visit which I made to St. Helena in 1864 I became the owner -of a picture of Plantation House, dated 1840. Two tortoises are shown -in that picture on the lawn in front of the house, much smaller in -size than the two now there. So it is probable that the legend of the -hundred years on the Island is correct. - -Strange! Napoleon, Bertrand, Montholon, Las Cases, Gourgaud, Hudson -Lowe, O’Meara, all gone long ago--the two tortoises still there! - -At the end of the Preface of 1873 I said that I was then about to -proceed to Africa--a continent which appeared at the moment “to be -offering adventure with a liberal hand.” That is thirty-four years -ago; and, had Africa continued in her liberal mood, it might have been -easier to write this Postscript to-day. Unfortunately the mood did not -last. Africa proffered her adventures to me with a very conservative -hand--so much so, indeed, that a great blank or void has arisen in -my mind between these old days of the snow-shoe, the dog-sled, the -buffalo, and the prairie of the Wild North Land and the present time. -Over and above the lapse of years, Africa has intervened with rather -more than a full share of her by-products--fever, ineffectual labour, -and that eventual frustration of human effort which seems to have been -the inevitable outcome of African adventure from the time of Hannibal -the Carthaginian to Moneyball, the London Latitudinarian. - -If you look at a map of the world you will see that what is, in a -topographical sense, thickest and longest in Africa is thinnest and -shortest in the rest of the globe. Africa, measured along the 10th -degree of North latitude, gives about 4000 miles of land-line. The -same latitude in all the other continents combined will give about 400 -miles. We call the equator an imaginary line, but it is the only real -live line that has lasting significance in relation to man’s life on -earth. - -The equator may be said to be the chest and heart of Africa. Elsewhere -over the globe it is as a finger-tip or a toe-nail. That fact holds an -immense human problem. - -When the Great Divider of earth and ocean scooped out the central -portion of the two Americas, forming the vast water receptacle now -filled by the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea, He laid the line of -a good deal of man’s destiny in the world. - -Run the eye from this great sea gap in America across the Atlantic -to the west coast of Africa, and in the same latitudes you find a -corresponding land protuberance, sufficient (if we could tow it across -the ocean) to fill the opposite land vacuum in Central America. And it -is strange to note that it was from this African protuberance that the -vast majority of the negroes were taken in the days of the slave trade, -and carried over the Atlantic to work as slaves among the islands -and on the coasts of this same Mexican Gulf and Carib Sea. Were the -slave-traders of Bristol and Liverpool, unconsciously, in this hideous -traffic, reversing the after idea of Canning by calling the old world -into American slavery in order to redress the balance of colour in the -new? For what seems probable is that had these, say twenty degrees, -of solid Equatorial Africa originally filled up that Central American -sea space, the greater part of the entire continent would to-day have -belonged to the negro race. - -The Aztec has gone, the Indian is going, but the imported African black -man is going ahead. - -At the end of the Civil War less than three million negroes were in -the United States. There are now, I am told, ten millions. In spite -of old slavery and modern race-exclusion and outrage, the African is -making his way in the new world. Emigration from Europe throws nearly -a million virile whites annually into America. Africa sends no fresh -blood to replenish the old slave stock; nevertheless, the ratio of -black increase exceeds that of the white. - -Herein a strange contrariety presents itself in the two colours. The -white man fails to live and propagate himself in Equatorial Africa, but -the black man thrives and multiplies in America. And meanwhile what -about the Wild North Land? That, like the men and dogs, is also dead. - -One of the old friends of that time still survives--the gentleman of -the Hudson’s Bay Company who was my companion from Fort Carlton to -Lake Athabasca in the winter of ’72–73. His letters still breathe the -same unconquerable energy that characterised him in the far North. He -tells me in a letter written from Winnipeg at Christmas last that my -little village at Fort Garry is now a great city, “which will one day,” -he writes, “be the greatest, and in short the Chicago of Canada.” He -tells me also of booms and bridges and expansions, and he sends me -newspapers with pictures of hotels, grain-elevators, and universities, -all of approved American design, and of entirely up-to-date ugliness. -He says that even “a more progressive city government is expected from -a new mayor who has recently been elected by nearly double the largest -majority ever obtained by any previous mayor.” - -All this is no doubt quite as it should be; but it goes to prove, all -the same, that the Wild North Land is dead and buried. I do not want -to see its grave--I prefer to remember it as I saw it more than a -generation ago; and I believe that one Chicago is amply sufficient for -any one world. - -Indeed, I can never be grateful enough that it was given me to see -the old things of North America before the deluge. Prairies pure and -unspotted; great herds of buffaloes moving; the sun setting over a -silent wilderness. - - W. F. B. - - _January 1907._ - - - - - APPENDIX. - - ON THE PASSES THROUGH THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS IN BRITISH TERRITORY, - - AND - - THE BEST ROUTE FOR A CANADIAN RAILROAD TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN. - - - - -APPENDIX. - - -Nearly twenty years ago we began to talk of building a railroad across -the continent of North America to lie wholly within British territory, -and we are still talking about it. - -Meantime our cousins have built their inter-oceanic road, and having -opened it and run upon it for six years: they are also talking much -about their work. But of such things it is, perhaps, better to speak -after the work has been accomplished than before it has been begun. - -The line which thus connects the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans bears -the name of the Union Pacific Railroad. It crosses the continent -nearly through the centre of the United States, following, with slight -deviation, the 42nd parallel of latitude. Two other lines have been -projected south, and one north of this Union Pacific road, all lying -within the United States; but all have come to untimely ends, stopping -midway in their career across the sandy plains of the West. - -There was the Southern Pacific Railroad to follow the 30th parallel; -there was the Kansas Pacific line following the Republican valley, and -stopping short at the city of Denver in Colorado; and there was the -Northern Pacific Railroad, the most ambitious of all the later lines, -which, starting from the city of Duluth on the western extremity of -Lake Superior, traversed the northern half of the State of Minnesota, -crossed the sandy wastes of Dakota, and has just now come heavily to -grief at the Big Bend of the Missouri River, on the borders of the “Bad -Lands” of the Yellowstone. - -In an early chapter of this book it has been remarked that the -continent of North America, east of the Rocky Mountains, sloped from -south to north. This slope, which is observable from Mexico to the -Arctic Ocean, has an important bearing on the practical working of -railroad lines across the continent. The Union Pacific road, taken in -connexion with the Central Pacific, attains at its maximum elevation -an altitude of over 8000 feet above the sea-level, and runs far over -900 miles at an average height of about 4500 feet; the Northern Pacific -reaches over 5000 feet, and fully half its projected course lies -through a country 3000 to 4000 feet above ocean-level; the line of -the Kansas Pacific is still more elevated, and the great plateau of -the Colorado River is more than 7000 feet above the sea. Continuing -northward, into British territory, the next projected line is that -of the Canadian Pacific Railway, and it is with this road that our -business chiefly lies in these few pages of Appendix. - -The depression, or slope, of the prairie level towards the north -continues, with marked regularity, throughout the whole of British -America; thus at the 49th parallel (the boundary-line between the -United States), the mean elevation of the plains is about 4000 feet. -Two hundred and fifty miles north, or in the 53rd parallel, it is about -3000 feet; and 300 miles still farther north, or about the entrance to -the Peace River Pass, it has fallen to something like 1700 feet above -the sea-level. - -But these elevations have reference only to the prairies at the eastern -base of the Rocky Mountains. We must now glance at the mountains -themselves, which form the real obstacle to inter-oceanic lines of -railroad. - -It might be inferred from this gradual slope of the plains northwards, -that the mountain-ranges followed the same law, and decreased in a -corresponding degree after they passed the 49th parallel, but such is -not the case; so far from it, they only attain their maximum elevation -in 52° N. latitude, where, from an altitude of 16,000 feet, the summits -of Mounts Brown and Hooker look down on the fertile plains at the -sources of the Saskatchewan River. - -As may be supposed, it is only here that the Rocky Mountains present -themselves in their grandest form. Rising from a base only 3000 feet -above the ocean, their full magnitude strikes at once upon the eye -of the beholder; whereas, when looked at in the American States from -a standpoint already elevated 6000 or 7000 feet above the sea, and -rising only to an altitude of 10,000 or 12,000 feet, they appear -insignificant, and the traveller experiences a sense of disappointment -as he looks at their peaks thus slightly elevated above the plain. But -though the summits of the range increase in height as we go north, the -levels of the valleys or passes, decrease in a most remarkable degree. - -Let us look for a moment at these gaps which Nature has formed through -this mighty barrier. Twenty miles north of the boundary-line the -Kootanie Pass traverses the Rocky Mountains. - -The waters of the Belly River upon the east, and those of the Wigwam -River on the west, have their sources in this valley, the highest point -of which is more than 6000 feet above sea-level. - -Fifty miles north of the Kootanie, the Kananaskiss Pass cuts the three -parallel ranges which here form the Rocky Mountains; the height of land -is here 5700 feet. Thirty miles more to the north the Vermilion Pass -finds its highest level at 4903; twenty miles again to the north the -Kicking Horse Pass reaches 5210 feet; then comes the House Pass, 4500 -feet; and, lastly, the pass variously known by the names of Jasper’s -House, Tête Jeune, and Leather Pass, the highest point of which is 3400 -feet. - -From the House Pass to the Tête Jeune is a little more than sixty -miles, and it is a singular fact that these two lowest passes in -the range have lying between them the loftiest summits of the Rocky -Mountains from Mexico to the Arctic Ocean. - -The outflow from all these passes, with the exception of the one last -named, seeks on the east the river systems of the Saskatchewan, and on -the west the Columbia and its tributaries. The Tête Jeune, on the other -hand, sheds its dividing waters into the Athabasca River on the east, -and into the Frazer River on the west. - -So far we have followed the mountains to the 53° of N. latitude, and -here we must pause a moment to glance back at the long-projected line -of the Canadian Pacific Railroad. As we have already stated, it is -now nearly twenty years since the idea of a railroad through British -America was first entertained. A few years later a well-equipped -expedition was sent out by the British Government for the purpose of -thoroughly exploring the prairie region lying between Red River and -the Rocky Mountains, and also reporting upon the nature of the passes -traversing the range, with a view to the practicability of running a -railroad across the continent. Of this expedition it will be sufficient -to observe, that while the details of survey were carried out with -minute attention and much labour, the graver question, whether it -was possible to carry a railroad through British territory to the -Pacific, appears to have been imperfectly examined and, after a survey -extending us far north as the Jasper’s House Pass, but not including -that remarkable valley, the project was unfavourably reported upon by -the leader of the expedition. - -The reasons adduced in support of this view were strong ones. Not only -had the unfortunate selection of an astronomical boundary-line (the -49th parallel) shut us out from the western extreme of Lake Superior, -and left us the Laurentian wilderness lying north of that lake, as a -threshold to the fertile lands of the Saskatchewan and the Red River; -but far away to the west of the Rocky Mountains, and extending to the -very shores of the Pacific, there lay a land of rugged mountains almost -insurmountable to railroad enterprise. - -Such was the substance of the Report of the expedition. It would be -a long, long story now to enter into the details involved in this -question; but one fact connected with “this unfortunate selection of an -astronomical line” may here be pertinently alluded to, as evincing the -spirit of candour, and the tendency to sharp practice which the Great -Republic early developed in its dealings with its discarded mother. -By the treaty of 1783, the northern limit of the United States was -defined as running from the north-west angle of the Lake of the Woods -to the river Mississippi along the 49th parallel; but as we have before -stated, the 49th parallel did not touch the north-west angle of the -Lake of the Woods or the river Mississippi; the former lay north of -it, the latter south. Here was clearly a case for a new arrangement. -As matters stood we had unquestionably the best of the mistake; for, -whereas the angle of the Lake of the Woods lay only a few miles north -of the parallel, the extreme source of the Mississippi lay a long, long -way south of it: so that if we lost ten miles at the beginning of the -line, we would gain 100 or more at the end of it. - -All this did not escape the eyes of the fur-hunters in the early -days of the century. Mackenzie and Thompson both noticed it and both -concluded that the objective point being the river Mississippi, the -line would eventually be run with a view to its terminal definitions, -the Lake of the Woods and the Mississippi. In 1806, the United States -Government sent out two Exploring Expeditions into its newly-acquired -territory of Louisiana; one of them, in charge of a Mr. Zebulon Pike -of the American army, ascended the Mississippi, and crossed from -thence to Lake Superior. Here are his remarks upon the boundary-line. -“The admission of this pretension” (the terminal point at the river -Mississippi) “will throw out of our territory the upper portion of Red -River, and nearly two-fifths of the territory of Louisiana; whereas -if the line is run due west from the head of the Lake of the Woods, -it will cross Red River nearly at the centre, and strike the Western -Ocean at Queen Charlotte’s Sound. This difference of opinion, it is -presumed, might be easily adjusted between the two Governments at the -present day; but delay, _by unfolding the true value of the country_, -may produce difficulties which do not now exist.” - -The italics are mine. - -Zebulon Pike has long passed to his Puritan fathers. Twelve years -after he had visited the shores of Lake Superior, and long before our -Government knew “the value of the country” of which it was discoursing, -the matter was arranged to the entire satisfaction of Pike and his -countrymen. They held tenaciously to their end, the Lake of the Woods; -we hastened to abandon ours, the Mississippi River. All this is past -and gone; but if to-day we write Fish, or Sumner, or any other of -the many names which figure in boundary commissions or consequential -claims, instead of that of Zebulon Pike, the change of signature will -but slightly affect the character of the document. - -But we must return to the Rocky Mountains. It has ever been the habit -of explorers in the north-west of America, to imagine that beyond the -farthest extreme to which they penetrate, there lay a region of utter -worthlessness. One hundred years ago, Niagara lay on the confines of -the habitable earth; fifty years ago a man travelling in what are now -the States of Wisconsin and Minnesota, would have been far beyond the -faintest echo of civilization. So each one thought, as in after-time -fresh regions were brought within the limits of the settler. The -Government Exploring Expedition of sixteen years since, deemed that -it had exhausted the regions fit for settlement when it reached the -northern boundary of the Saskatchewan valley. The project of a railroad -through British territory was judged upon the merits of the mountains -lying west of the sources of the Saskatchewan, and the labyrinth -of rock and peak stretching between the Rocky Mountains and the -Pacific. Even to-day, with the knowledge of further exploration in its -possessions, the Government of the Dominion of Canada seems bent upon -making a similar error. A line has been projected across the continent, -which, if followed, must entail ruin upon the persons who would attempt -to settle along it upon the bleak treeless prairies east of the -mountains, and lead to an expenditure west of the range, in crossing -the multitudinous ranges of Middle and Southern British Columbia, which -must ever prevent its being a remunerative enterprise. - -The Tête Jeune Pass is at present the one selected for the passage of -the Rocky Mountains. This pass has many things to recommend it, so far -as it is immediately connected with the range which it traverses; but -unfortunately the real obstacles become only apparent when its western -extremity is reached, and the impassable “divide” between the Frazer, -the Columbia, and the Thompson Rivers looms up before the traveller. -It is true that the cañon valley of the North Thompson lies open, but -to follow this outlet, is to face still more imposing obstacles where -the Thompson River unites with the Frazer at Lytton, some 250 miles -nearer to the south-west; here, along the Frazer, the Cascade Mountains -lift their rugged heads, and the river for full sixty miles flows at -the bottom of a vast angle cut by nature through the heart of the -mountains, whose steep sides rise abruptly from the water’s edge: in -many places a wall of rock. - -In fact, it is useless to disguise that the Frazer River affords the -sole outlet from that portion of the Rocky Mountains lying between the -boundary-line, the 53rd parallel of latitude and the Pacific Ocean; and -that the Frazer River valley is one so singularly formed, that it would -seem as though some superhuman sword had at a single stroke cut through -a labyrinth of mountains for 300 miles, down deep into the bowels of -the land. - -Let us suppose that the mass of mountains lying west of the Tête Jeune -has been found practicable for a line, and that the Frazer River has -been finally reached on any part of its course between Quesnelle and -the Cascade range at Lytton. - -What then would be the result? - -Simply this: to turn south along the valley of the river, would be -to face the cañons of the Cascades, between Lytton and Yale. To hold -west, would be to cross the Frazer River itself, and by following the -Chilcotin River, reach the Pacific Ocean at a point about 200 miles -north of the estuary of the Frazer. But to cross this Frazer River -would be a work of enormous magnitude,--a work greater, I believe, than -any at present existing on the earth; for at no point of its course -from Quesnelle to Lytton is the Frazer River less than 1200 feet below -the level of the land lying at either side of it, and from one steep -scarped bank to the other is a distance of a mile or more than a mile. - -How, I ask, is this mighty fissure, extending right down the country -from north to south, to be crossed, and a passage gained to the -Pacific? I answer that the _true passage to the Pacific lies far north -of the Frazer River_, and that _the true passage of the Rocky Mountains -lies far north of the Tête Jeune Pass_. - -And now it will be necessary to travel north from this Tête Jeune Pass, -along the range of the Rocky Mountains. - -One hundred miles north of the Tête Jeune, on the east, or Saskatchewan -side of the Rocky Mountains, there lies a beautiful land. It is some -of the richest prairie land in the entire range of the north-west. It -has wood and water in abundance. On its western side the mountains rise -with an ascent so gradual that horses can be ridden to the summits of -the outer range, and into the valley lying between that range and the -Central Mountain. - -To the north of this prairie country, lies the Peace River; south, -the Lesser Slave Lake; east, a land of wood and muskeg and trackless -forest. The Smoking River flows almost through its centre, rising near -Jasper’s House, and flowing north and east until it passes into the -Peace River, fifty miles below Dunveyan. From the most northerly point -of the fertile land of the Saskatchewan, to the most southerly point of -this Smoking River country, is about 100 or 120 miles. The intervening -land is forest or muskeg, and partly open. - -The average elevation of this prairie above sea level would be under -2000 feet. In the mountains lying west and north-west there are two -passes; one is the Peace River, with which we are already acquainted; -the other is a pass lying some thirty or forty miles south of the -Peace River, known at present only to the Indians, but well worth -the trouble and expense of a thorough exploration, ere Canada hastily -decides upon the best route across its wide Dominion. - -And here I may allude to the exploratory surveys which the Canadian -Government has already inaugurated. A great amount of work has without -doubt been accomplished, by the several parties sent out over the long -line from Ottawa to New Westminster; but the results have not been, so -far, equal to the expenditure of the surveys, or to the means placed at -the disposal of the various parties. In all these matters, the strength -of an Executive Government resting for a term of years independent of -political parties, as in the case of the United States, becomes vividly -apparent; and it is not necessary for us in England to seek in Canada -for an exemplification of the evils which militate against a great -national undertaking, where an Executive has to frame a budget, or -produce a report, to suit the delicate digestions of evenly balanced -parties. - -It would be invidious to particularize individuals, where many men have -worked well and earnestly; but I cannot refrain from paying a passing -tribute to the energy and earnestness displayed by the gentlemen who, -during the close of the summer of 1872, crossed the mountains by the -Peace River Pass, and reached the coast at Fort Simpson, near the mouth -of the Skeena River. - -But to return to the Indian Pass, lying west of the Smoking River -prairies. As I have already stated, this pass is known only to the -Indians; yet their report of it is one of great moment. They say (and -who has found an Indian wrong in matters of practical engineering?) -that they can go in three or four days’ journey from the Hope of Hudson -to the fort on Lake Macleod, across the Rocky Mountains; they further -assert that they can in summer take horses to the central range, and -that they could take them all the way across to the west side, but for -the fallen timber which encumbers the western slope. - -Now when it is borne in mind that this Lake Macleod is situated near -the height of land between the Arctic and Pacific Oceans; that it -stands at the head of the Parsnip River (the south branch of the -Peace); and that further, a level or rolling plateau extends from the -fort to the coast range of mountains at Dean’s Inlet, or the Bentinck -arm on the coast of British Columbia, nearly opposite the northern -extreme of Vancouver’s Island; the full importance of this Indian Pass, -as a highway to the Pacific through the Rocky Mountains, will be easily -understood. - -But should this Indian Pass at the head of the Pine River prove to -be, on examination, unfit to carry a railroad across, I am still of -opinion that in that case the Peace River affords a passage to the -Western Ocean vastly superior to any of the known passes lying south of -it. What are the advantages which I claim for it? They can be briefly -stated. - -It is level throughout its entire course; it has a wide, deep, and -navigable river flowing through it; its highest elevation in the main -range of the Rocky Mountains is about 1800 feet; the average depth of -its winter fall of snow is about _three feet_; by the first week of -May this year the snow (unusually deep during the winter) had entirely -disappeared from the north shore of the river, and vegetation was -already forward in the woods along the mountain base. - -But though these are important advantages for this mountain pass, the -most important of all remains to be stated. From the western end of the -pass to the coast range of mountains, a distance of 300 miles across -British Columbia, there does not exist one single formidable impediment -to a railroad. By following the valley of the Parsnip River from -“the Forks” to Lake Macleod, the Ominica range is left to the north, -and the rolling plateau land of Stuart’s Lake is reached without a -single mountain intervening; from thence the valley of the Nacharcole -can be attained, as we have seen in my story, without the slightest -difficulty, and a line of country followed to within twenty miles of -the ocean, at the head of Dean’s Inlet. - -I claim, moreover, for this route that it is shorter than any projected -line at present under consideration; that it would develope a land as -rich, if not richer, than any portion of the Saskatchewan territory; -that it altogether avoids the tremendous mountain ranges of Southern -British Columbia, and the great gorge of the Frazer River; and, -finally, that along the Nacharcole River there will be found a country -admirably suited to settlement, and possessing prairie land of a kind -nowhere else to be found in British Columbia. - -With regard to the climate of the country lying east of the mountains, -those who have followed me through my journey will remember the state -in which I found the prairies of Chimeroo on the 22nd and 23rd of -April, snow all gone and mosquitoes already at work. Canadians will -understand these items. I have looked from the ramparts of Quebec on -the second last day of April, and seen the wide landscape still white -with the winter’s snow. - -In the foregoing sentences I have briefly pointed out the advantages -of the Peace River Pass, the absence of mountain-ranges in the valleys -of the Parsnip and Nacharcole Rivers, and the fertile nature of the -country between the Lesser Slave Lake and the eastern base of the Rocky -Mountains. It only remains to speak of the connecting line between the -Saskatchewan territory and the Smoking River prairies. - -The present projected line through the Saskatchewan is eminently -unsuited to the settlement; it crosses the bleak, poor prairies of the -Eagle Hills, the country where, as described in an earlier chapter, we -hunted the buffalo during the month of November in the preceding year. -For all purposes of settlement it may be said to lie fully 80 miles too -far south during a course of some 300 or 400 miles. - -The experience of those most intimately acquainted with the territory -points to a line _north_ of the North Saskatchewan as one best -calculated to reach the country really fitted for immediate settlement; -a country where rich soil, good water, and abundant wood for fuel and -building can be easily obtained. All of these essentials are almost -wholly wanting along the present projected route throughout some 350 -miles of its course. - -Now if we take a line from the neighbourhood of the Mission of Prince -Albert, and continue it through the very rich and fertile country lying -20 or 30 miles to the north of Carlton, and follow it still further to -a point 15 or 20 miles north of Fort Pitt, we will be about the centre -of the _true_ Fertile Belt of this portion of the continent. Continuing -north-west for another 60 miles, we would reach the neighbourhood of -the Lac la Biche (a French mission, where all crops have been most -successfully cultivated for many years), and be on the water-shed of -the Northern Ocean. - -Crossing the Athabasca, near the point where it receives the Rivière la -Biche, a region of _presumed_ muskeg or swamp would be encountered, but -one neither so extensive nor of as serious a character as that which -occurs on the line at present projected between the Saskatchewan and -Jasper’s House. - -The opinions thus briefly stated regarding the best route for -a Canadian-Pacific Railroad across the continent result from no -inconsiderable experience in the North-West Territory, nor are they -held solely by myself. I could quote, if necessary, very much evidence -in support of them from the testimony of those who have seen portions -of the route indicated. - -In the deed of surrender, by which the Hudson’s Bay Company transferred -to the Government of Canada the territory of the North-West, the -Fertile Belt was defined as being bounded on the north by the North -Saskatchewan River. It will yet be found that there are ten acres of -fertile land lying _north_ of the North Saskatchewan for every one acre -lying south of it. - - * * * * * - -These few pages of Appendix must here end. There yet remain many -subjects connected with the settlement of Indian tribes of the West -and their protection against the inevitable injustice of the incoming -settler, and to these I would like to call attention, but there is not -time to do so. - -Already the low surf-beat shores of West Africa have been visible for -days, and ’midst the sultry atmosphere of the Tropics it has become no -easy task to fling back one’s thoughts into the cold solitudes of the -northern wilds. - - SIERRA LEONE, _October 15th, 1873_. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a -predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they -were not changed. - -Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation -marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left -unbalanced. - -Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs -and outside quotations. 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Although neither is likely -correct, this ebook uses “cortége.” - -Page 256: “household gods” was printed that way; may be a typo for -“household goods.” - -Page 334: “Kamtschatka” was printed that way. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WILD NORTH LAND *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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text-indent: -1.5em; text-align: justify; - } - - .poetry-container {text-align: center;} - .poetry {display: block; text-align: left; margin-left: 1.5em;} - .poetry .stanza {page-break-inside: avoid;} - .poetry .tb {text-align: left; padding-left: 2em;} - - .transnote { - page-break-inside: avoid; - margin-left: 2%; - margin-right: 2%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - padding: .5em; - } - - .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block; text-align: center;} -} - - </style> - </head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wild North Land, by William Francis Butler</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Wild North Land</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>The Story of a Winter Journey with Dogs across Northern North America</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: William Francis Butler</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66296]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Sonya Schermann, Charlie Howard, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WILD NORTH LAND ***</div> - -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="center larger">Transcriber’s Note</p> - -<p>Larger versions of most illustrations may be seen by right-clicking them -and selecting an option to view them separately, or by double-tapping and/or -stretching them. An even larger version of the map is available through -the <i>Larger</i> link below its captions.</p> - -<p class="covernote">Cover created by Transcriber, using an illustration -from the original book, and placed into the Public Domain.</p> -</div> - -<div id="i_001" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 41em;"> - <img src="images/i_001.jpg" width="2564" height="1602" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>DOG-TRAIN FOR THE NORTH.</p></div> - <div class="captionr"><i>Frontispiece.</i></div> -</div> - -<div class="newpage p2 center vspace"> -<h1> -<span class="larger">The Wild North Land</span><br /> -<span class="subhead xxsmall"> -THE STORY OF A WINTER JOURNEY WITH<br /> -DOGS ACROSS NORTHERN NORTH AMERICA</span> -</h1> - -<p class="p2">BY LIEUTENANT-GENERAL<br /> -<span class="large">SIR WILLIAM FRANCIS BUTLER, G.C.B.</span><br /> -<span class="small">AUTHOR OF<br /> -“THE GREAT LONE LAND” AND “RED CLOUD, THE SOLITARY SIOUX”</span></p> - -<p class="p2 smaller">“I cannot rest from travel. I will drink life to the lees.”<br /> -“I am become a name for always roaming with a hungry heart.”</p> - -<p class="p2 smaller"><i>WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP</i></p> - -<p class="p2 larger "><span class="gesperrt">TORONTO<br /> -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF<br /> -CANADA, LTD.</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">1910</span> -</p> -</div> -<hr /> -<div id="i_002" class="newpage figcenter notbpad" style="max-width: 50em;"> - <div class="caption large"><p>SIR WILLIAM BUTLER’S WILD NORTH LAND.</p></div> - <img src="images/i_002.jpg" width="1788" height="954" alt="" /> - <div class="captionl"><div class="floatl smaller"> - <div class="center"> - <span class="smaller">Part of</span><br /> - BRITISH<br /> - NORTH AMERICA<br /> - <i class="smaller">to illustrate</i><br /> - “THE WILD NORTH LAND” - </div> - </div></div> - <div class="captionr floatr small"> - Weller & Graham L^{td}. Litho, London - </div> - <div class="captionc large">BURNS & OATES.</div> - <p class="center"><a href="images/i_002large.jpg"><i>(Larger)</i></a></p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE">PREFACE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">People</span> are supposed to have an object in every -journey they undertake in this world. A man -goes to Africa to look for the Nile, to Rome -to see the Coliseum or St. Peter’s; and once, I -believe, a certain traveller tramped all the way to -Jerusalem for the sole purpose of playing ball -against the walls of that city.</p> - -<p>As this matter of object, then, seems to be a -rule with travellers, it may be asked by those who -read this book, what object had the writer in -undertaking a journey across the snowy wilderness -of North America, in winter and alone? I -fear there is no answer to be given to the question, -save such as may be found in the motto on -the title-page, or in the pages of the book itself.</p> - -<p>About eighteen months ago I was desirous of -entering upon African travel. A great explorer -had been lost for years in the vast lake-region of -Southern Central Africa, and the British Nation—which,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">vi</span> -by the way, becomes singularly attached to -a man when he is dead, or supposed to be dead—grew -anxious to go out to look for him.</p> - -<p>As the British Nation could not all go out at -once, or together, it endeavoured to select one or -two individuals to carry out its wishes.</p> - -<p>It will be only necessary to state here, that the -British Nation did not select the writer of this -book, who forthwith turned his attention from -African tropic zones to American frigid ones, and -started out upon a lonely cruise.</p> - -<p>Many tracks lay before me in that immense -region I call “The Wild North Land.” Former -wandering had made me familiar with the -methods of travel pursued in these countries -by the Indian tribes, or far-scattered fur-hunters. -Fortunate in recovering possession of -an old and long-tried Esquimaux dog—the companion -of earlier travel—I started in the autumn -of 1872 from the Red River of the North, -and, reaching Lake Athabasca, completed half my -journey by the first week of March in the following -year. From Athabasca I followed the many-winding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">vii</span> -channel of the frozen Peace River to its great -cañon in the Rocky Mountains, and, journeying -through this pass—for many reasons the most -remarkable one in the whole range of the Rocky -Mountains—reached the north of British Columbia -in the end of May. From thence, following a trail -of 350 miles through the dense forests of New -Caledonia, I emerged on the 3rd of June at the -frontier station of Quesnelle on the Frazer River, -still 400 miles north of Victoria.</p> - -<p>In the ensuing pages the story of that long tramp—for -it was mostly performed on foot—will be -duly set forth. Written by camp fire, or in cañon, -or in the little log-house of a northern fur fort, -when dogs and men rested for a day or two in the -long icy run, that narrative will be found, I fear, -to bear many indications of the rough scenes ’mid -which it has been penned; but as, on a former -occasion, many critics passed in gentle silence -over the faults and failings of another story of -travel in the Great Lone Land, so now it may be -my fortune to tell to as kindly an audience, this -record of a winter’s walk through more distant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">viii</span> -wilds—for in truth there has been neither time for -revision nor correction.</p> - -<p>Fortune, which eighteen months ago denied me -African adventure, offers it now with liberal hand.</p> - -<p>I reached the Atlantic from the Pacific shore to -find an expedition starting from England against -Ashantee; and long ere this story finds a reader -I hope to be pushing my way through the mangrove -swamps which lie between the Gold Coast -and Coomassie. To others even must fall the task -of correcting proofs, while I assume my part in -the correction and revision of King Koffi Kancalli, -and the administration to his subjects of that -proof of British prowess which it has been deemed -desirable to give them.</p> - -<p>Meantime, my old friends Chief Kar-ka-konias, -Kalder, and Cerf-vola, will be absent from this -new field; but, nevertheless, there will be present -many companions of former travel, and <em>one</em> Chief -under whose command I first sought the Great -Lone Land as the threshold to remoter regions.</p> - -<p class="sigright"> -<span class="smcap">W. F. Butler.</span></p> - -<p class="in0 in1"><span class="smcap"><span class="in3">London</span>,</span><br /> -<i>September 21st, 1873</i>.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">ix</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table id="toc" summary="Contents"> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER I.</td> -</tr> -<tr class="small"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr">PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Situation at Home—The West again—A Land of Silence</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_1">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER II.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Powder versus Primroses—The American Lounger—“Home, sweet Home”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_8">8</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER III.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Fort Garry under new aspects—Social Societies—An old Friend—Pony “the perverse”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_12">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER IV.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Wilderness—A Sunset Scene—A white Savage—Cerf-Vola the Untiring—Doggerel for a Dog—The Hill of the Wolverine—The Indian Paradise—I plan a Surprise—Biscuits and Water</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_21">21</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER V.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Forks of the Saskatchewan—A perverse Parallel—Diplomatic Bungling—Its Results</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_36">36</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER VI.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Our Winter Home—A Welcome—I start again—The Hunter’s Camp—In quest of Buffalo on the Plains—“Lodge-poling” leads to Love</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_43">43</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER VII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">An Ocean of Grass—The Red Man—Whence comes he?—The Buffalo—Puritans and Pioneers—The Red Man’s Friend</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_49">49</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">x</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER VIII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Buffalo Hunts—A Picture once seen long remembered—L’Homme capable—A wonderful Lake—The lost Indian—An Apparition—We return Home</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_57">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER IX.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Strange Visitors—At-tistighat the Philosopher—Indian Converts—A Domestic Scene—The Winter Packet—Adam and his Dogs</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_70">70</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER X.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">A <em>tale</em> of Warfare—Dog-sleds—A Missing Link—The North Sea—“Winterers”—Samuel Hearne</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_83">83</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XI.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">A Dog of no Character—The Green Lake—Lac Ile à la Crosse—A Cold Day—Fort Ile à la Crosse—A long-lost Brother—Lost upon the Lake—Unwelcome Neighbours—Mr. Roderick Macfarlane—“A beautiful Morning”—Marble Features</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_95">95</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Clearwater—A bygone Ocean—A Land of Lakes—The Athabasca River—Who is he?—Chipewyan Indians—Echo—Major succumbs at last—Mal de Raquette</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_118">118</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Lake Athabasca—Northern Lights—Chipewyan—The real Workers of the World</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_137">137</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIV.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">A Hudson’s Bay Fort—It comes at last—News from the outside World—Tame and wild Savages—Lac Clair—A treacherous Deed—Harper</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_143">143</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XV.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Peace River—Volcanos—M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr—Half a Loaf is better than no Bread—An oasis in the Desert—Tecumseh and Black Hawk</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_158">158</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">xi</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVI.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Buffalo Hills—A fatal Quarrel—The exiled Beavers—“At-tal-loo” deplores his Wives—A Cree Interior—An attractive Camp—I camp alone—Cerf-vola without a Supper—The Recreants return—Dunvegan—A Wolf-hunt</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_171">171</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Alexander Mackenzie—The first Sign of Spring—Spanker the Suspicious—Cerf-vola contemplates Cutlets—An Indian Hunter—“Encumbrances”—Furs and Finery—A “Dead Fall”—The Fur Trade at both Ends—An old Fort—A Night Attack—Wife-lifting—Cerf-vola in Difficulties and Boots—The Rocky Mountains at last</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_191">191</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVIII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The wild Animals of the Peace River—Indian Method of hunting the Moose—Twa-poos—The Beaver—The Bear—Bear’s Butter—A Bear’s Hug and how it ended—Fort St. John—The River awakes—A Rose without a Thorn—Nigger Dan—A threatening Letter—I issue a Judicial Memorandum—Its Effect is all that could be desired—Working up the Peace River</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_206">206</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIX.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Start from St. John’s—Crossing the Ice—Batiste le Fleur—Chimeroo—The last Wood-buffalo—A dangerous Weapon—Our Raft collapses—Across the Half-way River</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_225">225</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XX.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Hudson’s Hope—A Lover of Literature—Crossing the Peace—An unskilful Pilot—We are upset—Our Rescue—A strange Variety of Arms—The Buffalo’s Head—A glorious View</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_236">236</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXI.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Jacques, the French Miner—A fearful Abyss—The Great Cañon of the Peace River—We are off on our Western Way—Unfortunate Indians—A burnt Baby—“The Moose that walks”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_247">247</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">xii</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Still Westward—The Dangers of the Ice—We enter the main Range—In the Mountains—A Grizzly—The Death of the Moose—Peace River Pass—Pete Toy—The Ominica—“Travellers” at Home</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_263">263</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Black Cañon—An ugly Prospect—The vanished Boat—We struggle on—A forlorn Hope—We fail again—An unhoped-for Meeting and a Feast of Joy—The Black Cañon conquered</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_279">279</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIV.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Untiring over-estimates his Powers—He is not particular as to the Nature of his Dinner—Toil and Temper—Farewell to the Ominica—Germansen—The Mining Camp—Celebrities</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_294">294</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXV.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Mr. Rufus Sylvester—The Untiring developes a new Sphere of Usefulness—Mansen—A last Landmark</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_304">304</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXVI.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">British Columbia—Boundaries again—Juan de Fuça—Carver—The Shining Mountains—Jacob Astor—The Monarch of Salmon—Oregon—“Riding and Tying”—Nation Lake—The Pacific</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_310">310</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdc chap" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXVII.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Look-out Mountain—A gigantic Tree—The Untiring retires before superior Numbers—Fort St. James—A strange Sight in the Forest—Lake Noola—Quesnelle—Cerf-vola in civilized Life—Old Dog, good-bye!</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_327">327</a></td> -</tr> -<tr class="p2"> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Postscript</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_343">343</a></td> -</tr> -<tr class="p2"> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Appendix</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#toclink_349">349</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">xiii</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> -</div> - -<table id="loi" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Dog-Train for the North</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> -</tr> -<tr class="small"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr">PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Cerf-Vola, the Esquimaux Dog</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_016">16</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">View from the Spathanaw Watchi</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_031">31</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">“Our Hut at the Forks of the Saskatchewan”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_043">43</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Sunset Scene, with Buffalo</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_057">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Tent in the Great Prairie</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_069">69</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Valley of the Peace River</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_158">158</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Alone in the Wilderness</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_181">181</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Night into Day</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_187">187</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">The Wolf-Chase</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_189">189</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Clinging to the Canoe</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_239">239</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Mount Garnet Wolseley and the Peace River</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_266">266</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Cutting up the Moose</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_271">271</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">Running stern foremost the Black Cañon</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_283">283</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl">“The Look-out Mountain”</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_327">327</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak vspace" id="THE_WILD_NORTH_LAND"> -<span class="small">THE</span><br /> -<span class="larger">WILD NORTH LAND.</span></h2> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_1"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>The Situation at Home.—The West again.—A Land of Silence.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">There</span> had never been so many armies in England. -There was a new army, and there was an old army; -there was an army of militia, an army of volunteers, -and an army of reserve; there were armies -on horse, on foot, and on paper. There was the -army of the future—of which great things were -predicted—and far away, lost in a haze of history -(but still more substantial than all other armed -realities, present or future), there lay the great -dead army of the past.</p> - -<p>It was a time when everybody had something to -do with military matters, everybody on the social -ladder, from the Prime Minister on the topmost -round to the mob-mover on the lowest.</p> - -<p>Committees controlled the army, Departments -dressed it, Radicals railed at it, Liberals lectured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span> -upon it, Conservatives condemned it, Peers wrote -pamphlets upon it, Dukes denounced it, Princes -paraded it, and every member of Parliament who -could put together half a dozen words with tolerable -grammatical fluency had something to say -about it.</p> - -<p>Surely such a period must have been one in -which every soldier would have recognized the -grandeur and importance of his profession, and -clung with renewed vigour to a life which seemed -of moment to the whole British nation. But this -glowing picture of the great “nation of shopkeepers,” -suddenly fired by military ardour, had -its reverse.</p> - -<p>The stream of advancement slowly stagnating -under influences devised to accelerate it, the -soldier wearied by eternally learning from masters -the lesson he could have taught, the camp made -a place of garrison routine and not of military -manœuvre, the uniform harness which had galled -a Burton, a Palgrave, a Ruxton, and a Hayward, -from ranks where the spirit of adventurous discovery -sickened under chilling regulation—this harness -made more unrelaxingly irksome; a system of -promotion regulated by money—the offspring, it is -true, of foul corruption, but which had become not -a little purified by lapse of time; this system, supplanted -by one of selection theoretically pure, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span> -destined to fall into that lowest of all corruptions, -the influence of political jobbery: all this formed -the leading features in that order of things, old -and new, which the spectacle of a neighbouring -nation, struck suddenly to the ground by a mighty -army, had caused the panic-stricken British people -to overhaul and to reconstruct.</p> - -<p>Taken any way one can, an army on paper is -not a satisfactory profession. It is subject to -sudden and unlooked-for bursts of military zeal; -it is so bent upon nervously asserting itself fit for -anything; it is from its nature so much akin to -pen, ink, and envelope of a common-place type; it -has such disagreeable methods of garrisoning the -most pestilential spots upon the earth, and abandoning -to republican bluster whole continents -called colonies; those who shape its destinies are so -ready to direct it against matchlock monarchs and -speared soldiery; while arms are folded before -those conflicts which change the past and future of -the centuries; all these considerations go a great -way towards making the profession of arms, on -paper, at any time an anomaly.</p> - -<p>But when there was also present to the memory -of one who thus regarded the new order of military -life, the great solitudes, the inland oceans, -the desolate wilds, the gloomy forests of a far-away -land, through which his former wanderings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span> -had carried him; when thought re-sought again -those vast regions of the earth where Nature -has graven her image in characters so colossal, -that man seems to move slowly amidst an ocean -frozen rigid by lapse of time, frozen into those -things we name mountains, rivers, prairies, forests; -man a mere speck, powerless so far to mark his -presence, in blur of smoke, in noise of city, in -clash of crank, or whirl of wheel: when these -things came back in pictures touched by the soft -colours Memory loves to limn with, there were not -wanting dull professional outlooks and dearth -of service to turn the footsteps gladly into the old -regions again, there to trace new paths through -the almost exhaustless waste which lies between -the lonely prairies of the Saskatchewan and the icy -oceans of the North.</p> - -<p>What shall we call this land to those who follow -us into its depths?</p> - -<p>It has prairies, forests, mountains, barren -wastes, and rivers; rivers whose single lengths -roll through twice a thousand miles of shoreland; -prairies over which a rider can steer for -months without resting his gaze on aught save -the dim verge of the ever-shifting horizon; mountains -rent by rivers, ice-topped, glacier-seared, -impassable; forests whose sombre pines darken a -region half as large as Europe; sterile, treeless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span> -wilds whose 400,000 square miles lie spread in -awful desolation. How shall it all be called?</p> - -<p>In summer, a land of sound, a land echoing -with the voices of birds, the ripple of running -water, the mournful music of the waving pine-branch; -in winter, a land of silence, a land -hushed to its inmost depths by the weight of ice, -the thick-falling snow, the intense rigour of a -merciless cold—its great rivers glimmering in -the moonlight, wrapped in their shrouds of ice; -its still forests rising weird and spectral against the -Aurora-lighted horizon; its notes of bird or brook -hushed as if in death; its nights so still that the -moving streamers across the northern skies seem to -carry to the ear a sense of sound, so motionless -around, above, below, lies all other visible nature.</p> - -<p>If then we call this region the land of stillness, -that name will convey more justly than any other -the impress most strongly stamped upon the -winter’s scene.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_8" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>Powder <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">versus</i> Primroses.—The American Lounger.—“Home, -Sweet Home.”</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">It</span> was just time to leave London. The elm-trees -in the parks were beginning to put forth their -earliest and greenest leaves; innumerable people -were flocking into town because custom ordained -that the country must be quitted when the spring -is at its finest; as though the odour of primroses -had something pestilential about it, and anything -in the shape of violets except violet powder -was terribly injurious to feminine beauty.</p> - -<p>Youthful cosmopolites with waxed moustaches -had apparently decided to compromise with the -spring, and to atone for their abandonment of the -country by making a miniature flower-garden of -their button-holes. It was the last day of April, -and ere the summer leaves had yellowed along the -edge of the great sub-Arctic forest, my winter hut -had to be hewn and built from the pine-logs of -the far-distant Saskatchewan.</p> - -<p>In the saloon or on the after-deck of a Cunard -steamship steering west, one sees perhaps more of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span> -America’s lounging class than can be met with on -any other spot in the world; the class is a limited -one, in fact it may be a matter of dispute, whether -the pure and simple lounger, as we know him in -Piccadilly or Pall Mall, is to be found in the New -World; but a three, or six, or twelve months’ -visit to Europe has sufficiently developed the -dormant instincts of the class in the New York -or Boston man of business, to give colour to the -assumption that Columbia possesses a lounger.</p> - -<p>It is possible that he is a lounger only for -the moment. That one glimpse of Bunker, one -echo of Wall Street, will utterly banish for ever -the semblance of lounging; but for the present -the Great Pyramid <em>minus</em> Bunker’s Hill, the -Corso <em>minus</em> Wall Street, have done something -towards stamping him with the air and manner -of the idler. For the moment he sips his coffee, -or throws his cigar-end overboard, with a half-thoughtful, -half-<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">blasé</i> air; for the moment he has -discovered that the sun does not rise and set -exclusively in the United States, and that there -were just a few shreds and patches of history -in the world prior to the declaration of American -independence: still, when the big ship has steamed -on into the shallow waters which narrow into -Sandy Hook or Plymouth Sound, and the broad -panorama twixt Long Island and Staten, or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span> -Plymouth and Nahant opens on the view, the old -feeling comes back with the old scenes again.</p> - -<p>“Sir, the Bay of New York closely resembles -the Bay of Naples.” There is not the slightest -use in telling him that it is quite as like the Bey -of Tunis, or the Hospodar of Bulgaria—so we let -it be.</p> - -<p>“There, sir, is Bunker’s Hill.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, indeed!” drawled a genuine British -lounger, with that superb ignorance only to be -attained after generations of study, as he quietly -scanned the ridge through his lazily-arranged eye-glass. -“Bunker—who was Bunker? and what -did he do on his hill?”</p> - -<p>Yet, ere we hasten away to the North, another -word anent our cousin. These things are, after -all, the exception; the temptation to tell a good -story, or what we may deem such, must not blind -us to the truth; the other side of the question -must not be forgotten. An English traveller in -America will have so much to thank American -travel for that he can well afford to smile at such -things.</p> - -<p>It was an American who painted for us the -last scenes of Moorish history, with a colouring as -brilliant as that which the Hall of the Lions could -boast of in the old days of Grenada’s glory. To-day -an American dwelling in Rome recalls for us in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span> -marble the fierce voluptuous beauty of the Egyptian -Queen. Another catches the colouring of -Claude, in his “Twilight in the Wilderness.” -And if, as I have somewhere heard, it is to the -writer of the ballad-song that true poetic fame -belongs, that song which is heard at lonely camp-fires, -which is sung by sailors at the wheel as the -canvas-clouded ship reels on under the midnight -gloom through the tumbling seas,—the song -which has reached the heart of a nation, and lives -for ever in the memory of a people,—then let us -remember, when we listen to those wondrous -notes on whose wings float the simple words, -“Be it ever so humble, there is no place like -home;” let us remember the land whose memory -called them forth from the heart of an American -exile.</p> - -<p>And now we must away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_12" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>Fort Garry under new aspects.—Social Societies.—An Old -Friend.—“Pony” the perverse.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">The</span> long, hot, dusty American summer was -drawing to a close. The sand-fly had had his -time, the black-fly had run his round, the mosquito -had nearly bitten himself to death, and during -that operation had rendered existence unbearable -to several millions of the human race. The quiet -tranquil fall-time had followed the fierce wasting -summer, and all nature seemed to rest and bask -in the mellow radiance of September.</p> - -<p>It was late in the month of September, 1872, -when, after a summer of travel in Canada and the -United States, I drew near the banks of the Red -River of the North. Two years had worked many -changes in scene and society; a railroad had -reached the river; a “city” stood on the spot -where, during a former visit, a midnight storm had -burst upon me in the then untenanted prairie. -Three steamboats rolled the muddy tide of the -winding river before their bluff, ill-shapen bows. -Gambling-houses and drinking-saloons, made of -boards and brown paper, crowded the black, mud-soaked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span> -streets. A stage-coach ran north to Fort -Garry 250 miles, and along the track rowdyism -was rampant. Horse-stealing was prevalent, and -in the “city” just alluded to two murderers -walked quietly at large. In fine, the land which -borders the Red River, Minnesota, and Dakota, -had been thoroughly <em>civilized</em>.</p> - -<p>But civilization had worked its way even deeper -into the North-west. The place formerly known -as Fort Garry had civilized into the shorter denomination -of “Garry;” the prairie around the Fort -had corner lots which sold for more hundreds of -dollars than they possessed frontage-feet; and -society was divided in opinion as to whether the -sale which called forth these prices was a “bogus” -one or not.</p> - -<p>Representative institutions had been established -in the new province of Manitoba, and an election -for members of Parliament had just been concluded. -Of this triumph of modern liberty over -primeval savagery, it is sufficient to say, that the -great principle of freedom of election had been -fully vindicated by a large body of upright -citizens, who, in the freest and most independent -manner, had forcibly possessed themselves of the -poll-books, and then fired a volley from revolvers, -or, in the language of the land, “emptied their -shooting-irons” into another body of equally upright<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span> -citizens, who had the temerity to differ with -them as to the choice of a political representative.</p> - -<p>Civilization had also developed itself in other -ways. Several national societies had been founded, -and were doing prosperously. There was a St. -George’s Society and a St. Andrew’s Society, -and, I think, also a St. Patrick’s Society. Indeed -the memory of these saints appears to -be held in considerable reputation in the New -World. According to the prospectus and programme -of these societies, charity appears to -be the vital principle of each association: sick -Scotchmen, emigrating English, and indigent -Irish, were all requested to come forward and -claim relief at the hands of the wealthier sons of -St. Andrew, St. George, and St. Patrick. Charity, -which is said to begin at home, and which, alas! -too frequently ends there also, having thus had -its commencement in the home circle, seemed determined -to observe all home-like institutions; -and the annual dinner was of necessity a very -important item in the transactions of each society.</p> - -<p>Amidst all these changes of scene and society -there was one thing still unchanged on the confines -of the Red River. Close to the stream, at the -place known as the Point of Frogs, an old friend -met me with many tokens of recognition. A tried -companion was he through many long days of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span> -wintry travel. There, as fresh and hearty as -when I had parted from him two years before, -stood Cerf-vola, the Esquimaux dog who had -led my train from Cumberland, on the Lower -Saskatchewan, across the ice of the great Lakes. -Of the four dogs he alone remained. Two years is -a long time in the life of any dog, but still a -longer period in that of a hauling-dog; and Cerf-vola’s -comrades of that date, Muskeymote, Cariboo, -and Tigre had gone the way of all earthly -things.</p> - -<p>To become the owner of this old friend again, -and of his new companions Spanker and Pony, -was a work of necessity; and I quitted the -Point of Frogs by the steamboat “Selkirk” with -three hauling-dogs in my possession. Strong -and stout as of yore; clean-limbed, long-woolled, -deep-chested; with ears pointed forward and tail -close curled over his broad back, Cerf-vola still -stood the picture of an Esquimaux.</p> - -<p>Of the other two dogs, Pony was a half-breed, -and Spanker, sharp, keen, and restless, was like -his leader, a pure Husky; but, unlike the older -dog, his nature was wild and fierce: some malignant -guardian of his youth had despoiled him of -the greater part of his tail, and by doing so had -not a little detracted from his personal appearance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span></p> - -<div id="i_016" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i_016.jpg" width="1615" height="2581" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">CERF-VOLA, THE ESQUIMAUX DOG.</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span></p> - -<p>As these three animals will be my constant -companions during many months, through many -long leagues of ice and snow, I have here sketched -their outward semblance with some care. Civilization -and a steamboat appeared to agree but -poorly with my new friends. Spanker, failing in -making his teeth emancipate his own neck, turned -all his attention towards freeing his companion, and -after a deal of toil he succeeded in gnawing -Pony loose. This notable instance of canine -abnegation (in which supporters of the Darwinian -theory will easily recognize the connecting link -between the Algerine captives assisting each other -to freedom, &c., &c., after the manner of the -Middle Ages), resulted in the absconding of the dog -Pony, who took advantage of the momentary -grounding of the steamer to jump on shore and -disappear into the neighbouring forest.</p> - -<p>It was a wild, tempestuous night; the storm -swept the waters of the Red River until at length -the steamboat was forced to seek her moorings -against the tree-lined shore. Here was a chance of -recovering the lost dog. Unfortunately the boat -lay on the Dakota side, and the dog was at large -somewhere on the Minnesota shore, while between -the stormy water heaved in inky darkness. How -was the capture to be effected?</p> - -<p>As I stood on the lower deck of the steamboat,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span> -pondering how to cross the dark river, a man -paddled a small skiff close to the boat’s side. -“Will you be good enough to put me across the -river?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“I’ve no darned time to lose a night like this,” -he answered, “but if you want to cross jump in.” -The lantern which he carried showed the skiff to -be half-filled with water, but the chance was too -good to be lost. I sprang in, and we shot away -over the rough river. Kneeling in the bottom of -the boat I held the lantern aloft, while my gruff -comrade paddled hard. At last we touched the -shore; clambering up the wet, slippery bank, I held -the light amidst the forest; there, not twenty paces -distant, stood Pony.</p> - -<p>“Pony, poor fellow, good dog, come, Pony, cess, -cess, poor old boy.” Alas! all the alluring dogisms -by which we usually attract the animal were -now utterly useless, and the more I cried “Here, -here,” the more the wretch went there, there. -Meanwhile my boating friend grew impatient; I -could hear him above the storm shouting and -cursing at me with great volubility: so I made my -way back to the shore, gave him his lantern, and -went back into the forest, while he shot out into -the darkness of the river.</p> - -<p>Every now and again I heard the brute Pony -close to me in the brushwood. For some time I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span> -wandered on; suddenly a light glimmered through -the wet trees: approaching the light I found it to -issue from an Indian wigwam, and at my summons -two or three half-clad creatures came out. There -was a dog lost in the woods, would they get lights -and help me to catch him? a dollar would be the -reward. The dollar threw a new light upon the -matter. Burning brands were instantly brought -forth from the wigwam fire, but with little result; -the vagabond Pony, now utterly scared out of -all semblance of dog wit, sought safety in the -deepest recesses of the forest, from whence he -poured forth howls into the night. I returned to -the river, and with the aid of my wigwam -friends regained the steamboat. Half an hour -later the man on watch saw a dark object swimming -around the boat; it was the lost dog. Cerf-vola, -tied in the rain as a lure, had continued -to howl without intermission, and the vagrant -Pony had evidently come to the conclusion -that there were worse places on a wet autumnal -night than the warm deck of the steamboat -“Selkirk.”</p> - -<p>In the earliest days of October all phases of -civilization were passed with little regret; and at -the Rat Creek, near the southern shore of Lake -Manitoba, I bid good-bye to society. The party -was a small one—a member of the Imperial Legislature,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span> -well known in Ireland, now <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en route</i> to get -a glimpse of the great solitudes ere winter had -closed in, his servant, mine own, five horses, and -two carts.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_21" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Wilderness.—A Sunset-Scene.—A white Savage.—Cerf-vola -the Untiring.—Doggerel for a Dog.—The Hill of the -Wolverine.—The Indian Paradise.—I plan a Surprise.—Biscuits -and Water.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">It</span> was the 4th of October, bright with the warmth of -the fading summer—that quiet glow which lingers -over the face of nature, like the hectic flush upon -a dying beauty, ere the wintry storms come to -kill.</p> - -<p>Small and insignificant, the Musk-Rat Creek -flows on towards Lake Manitoba amidst bordering -thickets of oak and elm trees. On each side, a -prairie just beginning to yellow under the breath -of the cold night wind; behind, towards the east, -a few far-scattered log-houses smoke, and a trace -of husbandry; the advanced works of that army -whose rear-guard reaches to the Vistula; before, -towards the west, the sun going down over the -great silent wilderness. How difficult to realize -it! How feeble are our minds to gauge its -depths!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span></p> - -<p>He who rides for months through the vast solitudes -sees during the hours of his daily travel an -unbroken panorama of distance. The seasons -come and go; grass grows and flowers die; the -fire leaps with tiger bounds along the earth; the -snow lies still and quiet over hill and lake; the -rivers rise and fall, but the rigid features of the -wilderness rest unchanged. Lonely, silent, and -impassive; heedless of man, season, or time, the -weight of the Infinite seems to brood over it. -Once only in the hours of day and night a moment -comes when this impassive veil is drawn from -its features, and the eye of the wanderer catches a -glimpse of the sunken soul of the wilderness; it -is the moment which follows the sunset; then a -deeper stillness steals over the earth, colours of -wondrous hue rise and spread along the western -horizon. In a deep sea of emerald and orange of -fifty shades, mingled and interwoven together, -rose-coloured isles float anchored to great golden -threads; while, far away, seemingly beyond and -above all, one broad flash of crimson light, the -parting sun’s last gift, reddens upwards to the -zenith. And then, when every moment brings a -change, and the night gathers closer to the earth, -and some waveless, nameless lake glimmers in uncertain -shore-line and in shadow of inverted hill-top; -when a light that seems born of another world<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span> -(so weirdly distant is it from ours) lingers along -the western sky, then hanging like a lamp over -the tomb of the sun, the Evening Star gleams out -upon the darkening wilderness.</p> - -<p>It may be only a fancy, a conceit bred from -loneliness and long wandering, but at such -times the great solitude has seemed to me to -open its soul, and that in its depths I read its -secrets.</p> - -<p>Ten days dawned and died; the Mauvais Bois, -the Sand Ridges, western shore of an older world’s -immense lake, the Pine Creek, the far-stretching -hills of the Little Saskatchewan rose, drew near, -and faded behind us. A wild, cold storm swept -down from the north, and, raging a day and a -night, tore the yellow leaves from the poplar -thickets, and scared the wild fowl far southward -to a warmer home.</p> - -<p>Late on the 10th of October we reached the -Hudson’s Bay Company’s post of Beaver Creek, -the western limit to the travels of my friend. -Here, after a stay of three days and a feast of -roasted beaver, we parted; he to return to Killarney, -St. Stephen’s, and Denominational Education—a -new name for the old feud between those great -patriot armies, the <em>Ins</em> and the <em>Outs</em>; I to seek -the lonely lands where, far beyond the distant -Saskatchewan, the great Unchagah, parent of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span> -a still mightier stream, rolls through remote -lakes and whispering pines its waters to the Polar -Seas.</p> - -<p>With one man, three horses and three dogs, and -all those requisites of food, arms, and raiment -with which a former journey had familiarized me, -I started on the 14th of October bound for the -North-west. I was virtually alone; my companion -was a half-breed taken at chance from the -wigwam at the scene of the dog Pony’s midnight -escapade on the Red River. Chance had on -this occasion proved a failure, and the man had -already shown many symptoms of worthlessness. -He had served as a soldier in an American corps -raised by a certain Hatch, to hold in check the -Sioux after the massacre of Minnesota in 1862. -A raid made by nine troopers of this corps, against -an Indian tent occupied by some dozen women -and children, appears to have been the most noteworthy -event in the history of Hatch’s Battalion. -Having surrounded the wigwam in the night, these -cowards shot the miserable inmates, then scalping -and mutilating their bodies they returned to their -comrades, bearing the gory scalp-locks as trophies -of their prowess.</p> - -<p>Hatch is said to have at once forwarded to -Washington a despatch, announcing “a decisive -victory over the Sioux by the troops under his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span> -command.” But a darker sequel to the tale must -remain in shadow, for, if the story told to a Breton -missionary rests on a base of truth, the history -of human guilt may be searched in vain for a -parallel of atrocity.</p> - -<p>I had other companions besides this <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ci-devant</i> -trooper, of a far more congenial nature, to share -my spare time with. A good dog is so much a -nobler beast than an indifferent man that one -sometimes gladly exchanges the society of one for -that of the other.</p> - -<p>A great French writer has told us that animals -were put on earth to show us the evil effects of -passions run riot and unchecked. But it seems to -me that the reverse would be closer to the truth. -The humanity which Napoleon deemed a dog -taught to man on Bassano’s battle-field is not the -only virtue we can learn from that lower world -which is bound to us by such close ties, and yet -lies so strangely apart from us. Be that as it may, -a man can seldom feel alone if he has a dog to share -his supper, to stretch near him under the starlight, -to answer him with tail-wag, or glance of eye, or -prick of ear.</p> - -<p>Day after day Cerf-vola and his comrades trotted -on in all the freedom which summer and autumn -give to the great dog family in the north. Now -chasing a badger, who invariably popped into his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span> -burrow in time to save his skin; now sending a -pack of prairie grouse flying from the long grass; -now wading breast-deep into a lake where a few -wild ducks still lingered, loath to quit their summer -nesting-haunts.</p> - -<p>Of all the dogs I have known Cerf-vola possessed -the largest share of tact. He never fought -a pitched battle, yet no dog dared dispute his -supremacy. Other dogs had to maintain their -leadership by many a deadly conflict, but he -quietly assumed it, and invariably his assumption -was left unchallenged; nay, even upon his arrival -at some Hudson Bay fort, some place wherein he -had never before set foot, he was wont to instantly -appoint himself director-general of all the Company’s -dogs, whose days from earliest puppyhood -had been passed within the palisades. I have -often watched him at this work, and marvelled by -what mysterious power he held his sway. I have -seen two or three large dogs flee before a couple of -bounds merely made by him in their direction, -while a certain will-some-one-hold-me-back? kind -of look pervaded his face, as though he was only -prevented from rending his enemy into small -pieces by the restraining influence which the -surface of the ground exercised upon his -legs.</p> - -<p>His great weight no doubt carried respect with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span> -it. At the lazy time of the year he weighed nearly -100 pounds, and his size was in no way diminished -by the immense coat of hair and fine fur which enveloped -him. Had Sir Boyle Roche known this -dog he would not have given to a bird alone the -faculty of being in two places at once, for no mortal -eye could measure the interval between Cerf-vola’s -demolishment of two pieces of dog-meat, or -Pemmican, flung in different directions at the same -moment.</p> - -<p>Thus we journeyed on. Sometimes when the -sheen of a lake suggested the evening camp, while -yet the sun was above the horizon, my three -friends would accompany me on a ramble through -the thicket-lined hills. At such times, had any -Indian watched from sedgy shore or bordering -willow copse the solitary wanderer who, with dogs -following close, treaded the lonely lake shore, he -would have probably carried to his brethren a -strange story of the “white man’s medicine.” He -would have averred that he had heard a white man -talking to a big, bushy-tailed dog, somewhere -amidst the Touchwood Hills, and singing to him -a “great medicine song” when the sun went -down.</p> - -<p>And if now we reproduce for the reader the -medicine song which the white man strung -together for his bushy-tailed dog, we may perhaps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span> -forestall some critic’s verdict by prefixing to it -the singularly appropriate title of</p> - -<p class="p1 b0 center">DOGGEREL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container p0"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">And so, old friend, we are met again, companions still to be,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Across the waves of drifted snow, across the prairie sea.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Again we’ll tread the silent lake, the frozen swamp, the fen,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Beneath the snow-crown’d sombre pine we’ll build our camp again:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And long before the icy dawn, while hush’d all nature lies,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And weird and wan the white lights flash across the northern skies;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy place, as in past days thou’lt take, the leader of the train,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To steer until the stars die out above the dusky plain;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then on, thro’ space by wood and hill, until the wintry day</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In pale gleams o’er the snow-capped ridge has worn itself away,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And twilight bids us seek the brake, where midst the pines once more</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The fire will gleam before us, the stars will glimmer o’er.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">There stretch’d upon the snow-drift, before the pine log’s glare,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy master’s couch and supper with welcome thou wilt share,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To rest, unless some prowling wolf should keep thee watchful still,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">While lonely through the midnight sounds his wail upon the hill.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">And when the storm raves around, and thick and blinding snow</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Comes whirling in wild eddies around, above, below;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Still all unmoved thou’lt keep thy pace as manfully as when</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy matchless mettle first I tried in lone Pasquia’s glen.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span> - <div class="verse indent0">Thus day by day we’ll pierce the wilds where rolls the Arctic stream,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where Athabasca’s silent lakes, through whispering pine-trees gleam.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Until, where far Unchagah’s flood by giant cliffs is crown’d,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy bells will feed the echoes, long hungering for a sound.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Old dog, they say thou hast no life beyond this earth of ours,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That toil and truth give thee no place amidst Elysian bowers.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ah well, e’en so, I look for thee when all our danger’s past,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That on some hearth-rug, far at home, thou’lt rest thy limbs at last.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>A long distance of rolling plain, of hills fringed -with thickets, of treeless waste, and lakes spreading -into unseen declivities, stretches out between -the Qu’Appelle and Saskatchewan rivers. -Roamed over by but few bands of Indians, and -almost bereft of the larger kind of game, whose -bleached bones cover it thickly, this expanse -lies in unbroken solitude for more than three -hundred miles. Through it the great trail to the -north lays its long, winding course; but no other -trace of man is to be found; and over lake and -thicket, hill and waste, broods the loneliness of -the untenanted.</p> - -<p>Once it was a famous field of Indian fight, in the -old days when Crees and Assineboine strove for -mastery. Now it has almost lost the tradition of -battle, but now and again a hill-top or a river-course, -whose French or English name faintly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span> -echoes the Indian meaning, tells to the traveller -who cares to look below the surface some story -of fight in bygone times.</p> - -<p>The hill of the Wolverine and the lonely -Spathanaw Watchi have witnessed many a deed -of Indian daring and Indian perfidy in days not -long passed away, but these deeds are now forgotten, -for the trader as he unyokes his horses at -their base, and kindles his evening fire, little recks -of such things, and hails the hill-top only as a -landmark on his solitary road.</p> - -<p>Alone in a vast waste the Spathanaw Watchi -lifts his head, thickets and lakes are at his base, -a lonely grave at top, around four hundred miles -of horizon; a view so vast that endless space -seems for once to find embodiment, and at a -single glance the eye is satiated with immensity. -There is no mountain range to come up across -the sky-line, no river to lay its glistening folds -along the middle distance, no dark forest to give -shade to foreground or to fringe perspective, no -speck of life, no track of man, nothing but the -wilderness. Reduced thus to its own nakedness, -space stands forth with almost terrible grandeur. -One is suddenly brought face to face with that -enigma which we try to comprehend by giving to -it the names of endless, interminable, measureless; -that dark inanity which broods upon a waste of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span> -moorland at dusk, and in which fancy sees the -spectral and the shadowy.</p> - -<div id="i_031" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 41em;"> - <img src="images/i_031.jpg" width="2563" height="1604" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">VIEW FROM THE SPATHANAW WATCHI.</div></div> - -<p>Yet in this view from the Spathanaw there is -nothing dimly seen; the eye travels to the farthest -distance without one effort of vision, and, reaching -there, rests untired by its long gaze. As the -traveller looks at this wonderful view he stands by -the grave of an Indian, and he sees around him -for four hundred miles the Indian Paradise. It -was from scenes such as this, when the spring -had covered them with greensward, and the wild -herds darkened them by their myriads, that the -shadowy sense of a life beyond the tomb took -shape and form in the Red man’s mind.</p> - -<p>It was the 25th of October when I once more -drew near to the South Saskatchewan.</p> - -<p>Amidst its high wooded banks the broad river -rippled brightly along, as yet showing no trace of -that winter now so close at hand. Two years -before, all but a few days, I had reached this same -river, then shored by dense masses of ice; and now, -as I looked from the southern shore, the eye had -no little difficulty in tracing through the lingering -foliage of the summer the former point of passage, -where on the cold November morning my favourite -horse had gone down beneath the ice-locked river.</p> - -<p>Crossing to the southern shore I turned eastward -through a rich undulating land, and riding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span> -hard for one day reached the little mission station -of Prince Albert, midway between the Red River -and the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<p>Those who have followed me through former -wanderings may remember a spot where two large -rivers unite after many hundred miles of prairie -wandering, and form one majestic current on the -edge of the Great Northern Forest. To this spot, -known as the “Grand Forks of the Saskatchewan,” -I was now journeying, for there, while the autumn -was yet younger, two friends had preceded me to -build at the point of confluence a hut for our residence -during the early winter.</p> - -<p>The evening of the 28th of October found -me pushing hastily through a broad belt of -firs and pines which crosses the tongue of land -between the rivers some ten miles from their junction; -beyond this belt of trees the country opened -out, but, as it finally narrowed to the point of -confluence, the dark pine-clumps, outliers of the -dense Northern Forest, again rose into view. With -these features a previous visit had made me acquainted; -but the night had now closed in ere yet -the fir forest had been passed, and the rain, which -all day had been ceaseless, settled down with darkness -into a still heavier torrent. As we emerged -from the pines my baggage-cart suddenly broke -down, and there only remained the alternative of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span> -camping by the scene of the disaster, or pushing -on for the river junction on foot.</p> - -<p>Unfortunately the prospect of unexpectedly -walking in upon my friends, housed in the depths -of the wilderness, amidst the wild rain-storm of -the night, proved too strong a temptation; and -having secured the cart as best we could against -weather and wolves, we set out into the darkness. -For more than an hour we walked hard through -undulating ground intermixed with swamps and -beaver dams, until at length the land began to -decline perceptibly.</p> - -<p>Descending thus for nearly a mile we came suddenly -upon a large, quick-running river, whose -waters chafed with sullen noise against boulder-lined -shores, and hissed under the wild beating of -the rain. With cautious steps we groped our -way to the edge and cast a dry branch into the -flood; it floated towards the left; the river, then, -must be the South Saskatchewan. Was the junction -of this river with the northern branch yet -distant? or was it close at hand? for if it was -near, then my home was near too.</p> - -<p>Making our way along the shore we held on for -some time, until suddenly there rose before us a -steep bank, at the base of which the current ran -in whirling eddies. To climb up a high bank on -our left, and thus flank this obstacle, next became<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span> -our toil; soon we found ourselves in a dense wood -where innumerable fallen trees lay in endless confusion. -For another hour we groped our way -through this labyrinth in a vain attempt to reach -the upper level, until at last, exhausted by hours -of useless toil, wet, hungry, and bruised, I gave -the reluctant word to camp.</p> - -<p>To camp, what a mockery it seemed without -blankets or covering save our rain-soaked clothes, -without food save a few biscuits. The cold rain -poured down through leafless aspens, and shelter -there was none. It was no easy matter to find a -dry match, but at length a fire was made, and from -the surrounding wood we dragged dead trees to -feed the flames. There is no necessity to dwell -upon the miserable hours which ensued! All night -long the rain hissed down, and the fire was powerless -against its drenching torrents. Towards -morning we sunk into a deep sleep, lying stretched -upon the soaking ground.</p> - -<p>At last a streak of dawn broke over the high -eastern shore, the light struggled for mastery -with the surrounding darkness and finally prevailed, -and descending to the river showed the -broad current sweeping on to the north-east. -Quitting without regret our cheerless bivouac, -we climbed with stiff limbs the high overhanging -bank, and gained the upper level. Far<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span> -away the river still held its course to the north-east, -deep sunken 300 feet below the prairie level: -we were still distant from the Forks.</p> - -<p>Retracing our steps through miles of fallen -timber we reached the cart, but the morning had -worn on to mid-day before our long-wished-for -breakfast smoked in the kettle. Three hours later -on, during an evening which had cleared sufficiently -to allow the sun to glint through cloud rifts -on pine forest and prairie, I reached the lofty -ridge which overlooks the Forks of the Saskatchewan.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_36" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>The Forks of the Saskatchewan.—A perverse Parallel.—Diplomatic -Bungling.—Its results.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Two</span> hundred and fifty feet above water level, the -narrow tongue of land rises over the junction -of the two Saskatchewan rivers. Bare and level -at top, its scarped front descends like a wall to the -rivers; but land-slip and the wear of time have -carried down to a lower level the loose sand and -earth of the plateau, and thickly clustering along -the northern face, pines, birch, and poplar shroud -the steep descent. It is difficult to imagine a wilder -scene than that which lay beneath this projecting -point.</p> - -<p>From north-west and from south-west two broad -rivers roll their waters into one common channel, -two rivers deep furrowed below the prairie level, -curving in great bends through tree-fringed valleys. -One river has travelled through eight hundred -miles of rich rolling landscape; the other has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span> -run its course of nine hundred through waste and -arid solitudes; both have had their sources in -mountain summits where the avalanche thundered -forth to solitude the tidings of their birth. And -here at this point, like two lives, which, coming -from a distance, are drawn together by some mysterious -sympathy, and blended into one are henceforth -to know only the final separation, these -rivers roll their currents into one majestic -stream, which, sinking into a deep gorge, sweeps -eastward through unbroken pine forest. As yet -no steamboat furrows the deep water; no whistle -breaks the sleeping echoes of these grim scarped -shores; the winding stream rests in voiceless -solitude, and the summer sun goes down beyond -silent river reaches, gleaming upon a virgin -land.</p> - -<p>Standing at this junction of the two Saskatchewan -rivers, the traveller sees to the north and -east the dark ranks of the great sub-Arctic forest, -while to the south and west begin the endless -prairies of the middle continent. It is not a bad -position from whence to glance at the vast region -known to us as British North America.</p> - -<p>When the fatal error at Saratoga had made -room for diplomatists of Old and New England, -and removed the arbitrament of rebellion from -the campaign to the council, those who drew on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span> -the part of Great Britain the boundary-lines of her -transatlantic empire, bungled even more conspicuously -in the treaty-chamber than her generals had -failed in the field. Geographical knowledge appears -ever to have been deemed superfluous to those whose -business it was to shape the destinies of our colonial -dominions, and if something more tangible than -report be true, it is not many months since the British -members at a celebrated conference stared blankly -at each other when the free navigation of a river -of <em>more than two thousand miles in length</em> was -mooted at the Council Board. But then, what -statesman has leisure to master such trifles as the -existence of the great river Yukon, amid the more -important brain toil of framing rabbit laws, defining -compound householders, and solving other -equally momentous questions of our Imperial and -Parochial politics? However to our subject. When -in 1783 the great quarrel between Britain and her -Colonies was finally adjusted, the northern boundary -of the United States was to follow the 49th -parallel of latitude from the north-west angle of -the Lake of the Woods to the river Mississippi, and -thence down that river, &c., &c.</p> - -<p>Nothing could possibly have been more simple, -a child might comprehend it; but unfortunately it -fell out in course of time that the 49th parallel was -one of very considerable latitude indeed not at all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span> -a parallel of diplomatic respectability, or one that -could be depended on, for neither at one end or -the other could it be induced to approach the -north-west angle of the Lake of the Woods or the -river Mississippi. Do all that sextant, or quadrant, -or zenith telescope could, the 49th parallel -would not come to terms.</p> - -<p>Doggedly and determinedly it kept its own -course; and, utterly regardless of big-wig or -diplomatic fogie, it formed an offensive and defensive -alliance with the Sun and the Pole Star (two -equally obstinate and big-wig disrespectful bodies), -and struck out for itself an independent line.</p> - -<p>Beyond the Mississippi there lay a vast region, -a region where now millions (soon to be tens of -millions) draw from prairie and river flat the -long-sleeping richness of the soil. Then it was a -great wilderness, over which the dusky bison and -his wilder master roamed, in that fierce freedom -which civilization ends for ever.</p> - -<p>To the big-wigs at the Council Board this -region was a myth—a land so far beyond the -confines of diplomatic geography that its very -existence was questioned. Not so to the shrewd -solicitor, admiral, auctioneer, general conveyancer, -and Jack-of-all-trades in one, who guided the -foreign policy of the United States.</p> - -<p>Unencumbered by the trappings of diplomatic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span> -tradition, he saw, vaguely perhaps, but still with -prescient knowledge, the empire which it was -possible to build in that western wild; and as -every shifting scene in the outside world’s politics -called up some new occasion for boundary rearrangement, -or treaty rectification, he grasped -eagerly at a fresh foothold, an additional scrap -of territory, in that land which was to him an -unborn empire, to us a half-begotten wilderness. -Louisiana, purchased from Napoleon for a trifle, -became in his hands a region larger than European -Russia, and the vast water-shed of the Missouri -passed into the Empire of the United States.</p> - -<p>Cut off from the Mississippi, isolated from the -Missouri, the unlucky boundary traversed an arid -waste until it terminated at the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<p>Long before a citizen of the United States had -crossed the Missouri, Canadian explorers had -reached the Rocky Mountains and penetrated -through their fastnesses to the Pacific; and -British and Canadian fur traders had grown old in -their forts across the Continent before Lewis and -Clark, the pioneers of American exploration, had -passed the Missouri. Discovered by a British -sailor, explored by British subjects, it might well -have been supposed that the great region along -the Pacific slope, known to us as Oregon, belonged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span> -indisputably to England; but at some -new treaty “rectification,” the old story was -once more repeated, and the unlucky 49th parallel -again selected to carry across the Mountains to -the Pacific Ocean, the same record of British -bungling and American astuteness which the -Atlantic had witnessed sixty years earlier on the -rugged estuary of the St. Croix.</p> - -<p>For the present our business lies only with that -portion of British territory east of the Rocky -Mountains, and between them, the Bay of Hudson -and the Arctic Ocean.</p> - -<p>From the base of the great range of the Rocky -Mountains, the Continent of British America -slopes towards North and East, until, unbroken by -one mountain summit, but in a profound and -lasting desolation, it dips its shaggy arms and -ice-bound capes into a sea as drear and desolate.</p> - -<p>Two great rivers, following of necessity this -depression, shed their waters into the Bay -of Hudson. One is the Saskatchewan, of which -we have already spoken; the other, that river -known by various names—“English,” because -the English traders first entered the country by -it; “Beaver,” from the numbers of that animal -trapped along it in olden time; “Churchill,” because -a fort of that name stands at its estuary;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span> -and “Missinipi,” or “much water,” by the wild -races who dwell upon it. The first river has a -total length of 1700 miles; the last runs its course -through worthless forest and primeval rock for -1200 miles.</p> - -<div id="i_043" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_043.jpg" width="2554" height="1576" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">“OUR HUT AT THE FORKS OF THE SASKATCHEWAN”</div></div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_43" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Our Winter Home.—A Welcome.—I start again.—The Hunter’s -Camp.—In quest of Buffalo on the Plains.—“Lodge-poling” -leads to Love.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">At</span> the foot of the high ridge which marks the -junction of the two Saskatchewans, deep in pines -and poplars, through which vistas had been cut to -give glimpses along the converging rivers, stood -the winter hut of which I have already spoken. -From its chimney blue smoke curled up amongst -the trees into the lower atmosphere, and the -sound of wood-cutting came ringing from below, -a token of labour not yet completed in our wild -and secluded resting-place.</p> - -<p>I stood for a moment looking down on this -scene—a home in the great wilderness—and then -a loud shout echoed into the valley to carry -tidings of our arrival to the inmates of the hut. -In an instant it was answered from below, and -the solitudes rang with many a note of welcome, -while half a dozen dogs bayed furious defiance at -my pack, already become boisterously jubilant on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span> -the ridge above. When friends meet thus, after -long travel and separation, there are many questions -to ask and to answer, and the autumn evening -had worn to midnight ere the pine-log fire -threw its light upon a silent hut.</p> - -<p>The winter season was now at hand; our house -was nearly completed, our stores put away, our -dogs kennelled; but one most pressing want had -yet to be supplied—our winter stock of meat had -to be gathered in, and there was no time to lose -about obtaining it.</p> - -<p>It was the last of October, just one day after -my arrival at the Forks, when we turned our faces -westward in quest of buffalo. They were said to -be a long way off—200 miles nearer to the setting -sun—out somewhere on that great motionless -ocean, where no tree, no bush breaks the -vast expanse of prairie; land to which the -wild men of the West and those who lead wild -lives there have turned for many an age in -search of that food which nature once so -generously scattered over the plains of Central -North America.</p> - -<p>Journeying slowly towards the west—for already -the snow had begun to fall in many storms, and -the landscape had become wrapt in its winter -mantle—we reached in five days one of those -curious assemblages of half-breed hunters which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span> -are to be found in winter on the borders of the -great plains.</p> - -<p>Huts promiscuously crowded together; horses, -dogs, women, children, all intermixed in a confusion -worthy of Donnybrook Fair; half-breed -hunters, ribboned, tasselled, and capôted, lazy, -idle, and, if there is any spirit in the camp, sure -to be intoxicated; remnants and wrecks of buffalo -lying everywhere around; robes stretched and -drying; meat piled on stages; wolf-skins spread -over framework; women drawing water and -carrying wood; and at dusk from the little hut -the glow of firelight through parchment windows, -the sound of fiddle scraped with rough hunter -hand, and the quick thud of hunter heel as Louison, -or Bâtiste, or Gabriel foot it ceaselessly upon the -half-hewn floors.</p> - -<p>Unquestionably these French half-breeds are -wild birds—hunters, drinkers, rovers, rascals if -you will—yet generous and hospitable withal; -destined to disappear before the white man’s footprint, -and ere that time has come owing many of -their vices to the pioneer American, whose worst -qualities the wild man, or semi-wild man, has -been ever too sure to imitate.</p> - -<p>After a delay of three days in this hunter’s -camp, which by some strange anomaly was denominated -“la mission,” its sole claim to that title<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> -being the residence of a French priest in the -community, we started on our journey further -west.</p> - -<p>The winter had now regularly set in; the broad -South Saskatchewan was rolling thick masses of -ice down its half-closed channel, the snow-covering -had deepened on the landscape, the wind blew -keenly over the prairie. Many of our horses had -been too poor to take upon this journey, and the -half-breed whom I had brought from Red River, -dreading the exposure of the plains, had taken -advantage of the hunter’s camp to desert our -service; so another man had been engaged, and, -with three fresh horses and an urchin attendant -in the shape of a little half-breed, designated by -our new man as “l’homme capable,” and for -whose services he demanded only the moderate -sum of five shillings per diem, we held our course -along the South Saskatchewan towards the Great -Prairie.</p> - -<p>Xavier Bâtoche was a fair sample of his class. -The blood of four nationalities mingled in his -veins. His grandfather had been a French -Canadian, his grandmother a Crow squaw; English -and Cree had contributed to his descent on -his mother’s side. The ceremony of taking a wife -in the early days of the north-west fur trade -was not an elaborate performance, or one much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span> -encumbered by social or religious preliminaries. -If it did not literally fulfil the condition of force -implied by the word “taking,” it usually developed -into a question of barter; a horse, a flint -gun, some white cloth and beads, could purchase -the hand and heart of the fairest squaw in Prairie -land. If she did not love after one of these -valuable “presents” had been made to her -father, the lodge-poles were always handy to -enforce that obedience necessary to domestic happiness—admirable -idea, the roof-tree contributed -to the peace of the hearth-stone, and jealousy -fled before a “lodge-poling.” To return to -Bâtoche; Crow and Cree, French and English, had -contrived to produce a genial, good-humoured, -handsome fellow; the previous year had been one -of plenty, buffalo had once more appeared in -vast herds on the prairies of the Saskatchewan; -wolf-skins, robes, and pemmican had fetched high -prices, and Bâtoche was rich and prosperous.</p> - -<p>Two days’ journeying brought us to the edge -of the great prairie; silent, vast, and desolate it -spread away into unseen space; the snow but -scantily covered the yellow grass, and the November -wind sighed mournfully through the wrecks -of summer vegetation as it sped along its thousand -leagues of unmeasured meadow. At the last -copse of poplar and willow we halted for a day, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span> -bake bread and cut wood sufficient for a week’s -food and fuel, and then we launched our ocean -ships—horses and sleds—out into the great -meadow.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_49" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>An Ocean of Grass.—The Red Man.—Whence comes he?—The -Buffalo.—Puritans and Pioneers.—The Red Man’s Friend.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">The</span> general term “prairie” comprises many -varieties of open landscape. There are the level, -alluvial prairies of Illinois, long since settled and -colonized; there are the low, fertile prairies of -the Red River, where the rich black mould, fallow -under five months of snow, puts forth the rank -luxuriance of a hot-bed during the half tropic -heat of summer; there are the sandy prairies of -the Assineboine and Qu’Appelle, intermixed with -clusters of aspen and of willow, and broken by -lakes and saline ponds: but above each and all—exceeding -all other prairies and open spaces—wild, -treeless, and ocean-like in everything save -motion, there stands forth in dreary grandeur the -Great Prairie.</p> - -<p>What the Irish Sea, the Channel, the Baltic, -and the Mediterranean are to the Atlantic, so -are these various outlying regions of plain to the -vast rigid ocean of the central continent. It is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span> -true that on the Red River, or the Qu’Appelle, or -along the line I have lately passed, one may -frequently “get out of sight of land;” there are -spaces where no tree or bush breaks the long -monotony of the sky-line; but all these expanses -are as nothing compared to the true prairie.</p> - -<p>The unending vision of sky and grass, the dim, -distant, and ever-shifting horizon; the ridges that -seem to be rolled upon one another in motionless -torpor; the effect of sunrise and sunset, of night -narrowing the vision to nothing, and morning -only expanding it to a shapeless blank; the sigh -and sough of a breeze that seems an echo in -unison with the solitude of which it is the sole -voice; and, above all, the sense of lonely, unending -distance which comes to the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> when day -after day has gone by, night has closed, and -morning dawned upon his onward progress under -the same ever-moving horizon of grass and sky.</p> - -<p>Only two wild creatures have made this grassy -desert their home.</p> - -<p>Back, since ages at whose birth we can only -guess, but which in all human probability go -deeper into the past than the reign of Arab in -Yemen, or Kirghis in Turkestan, the wild red -man has roamed these wastes: back into that -dark night which hangs for ever over all we know -or shall know of early America. “The time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span> -before the white man came,” what a measureless -eternity lies hidden under the words! This prairie -was here when the stones of the pyramid were -unhewn, and the site of Babylon was a river -meadow—here as it is to-day, treeless, desolate, -and storm-swept. But where and whence came -the wild denizens of the waste? Who shall say? -Fifty writers have broached their various theories, -a hundred solutions have been offered. The missionary -claims them as the lost tribes of Israel, -one ethnologist finds in them a likeness to the -Tartar, another sees the Celtic eye, another the -Roman nose, another traces them back to Japan, -or China, or Australasia; the old world is scarcely -large enough to give them room for their speculations. -And what say we? Nothing; or if aught, -a conjecture perhaps more vague and shadowy -than the rest. It has seemed to us when watching -this strange, wild hunter, this keen, untutored -scholar of nature, this human creature that -sickens beneath our civilization, and dies midst -our prosperity—it has seemed to us that he was of -a race older and more remote than our own, a -stock coeval with a shadowy age—a remnant, perchance, -of an earlier creation which has vanished -from the earth, preserved here in these wilds—a -waif flung by the surge of time to these later ages -of our own.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span></p> - -<p>This New World is older than our old one. -Its 30,000 feet in depth of Arzoic rock tell us of -an age when nought of living form moved over the -iron earth. And here, probably first of all, the -molten sands rose above the boiling floods, and -cooled and crusted into a chaotic continent.</p> - -<p>These are but idle speculations; still the antiquity -of the Indian race rests upon other foundations. -Far to the south, where the prairies -rise into the lofty plateau of New Mexico, -ruined monuments, weed-grown, and hidden -beneath ivy and trailing parasites, stand like -spectres from the tomb of time. Before these -mouldering rock-hewn cities conjecture halts; the -past has drawn over them a veil that no research -can pierce, no learning solve. Inscrutable as the -vestiges of an earlier earth they stand, the lonely, -ruined wrecks of the Red man’s race.</p> - -<p>So much for the earlier existence of the human -dweller on the prairie; to us he is but a savage—the -impediment to our progress—the human counterpart -of forests which have to be felled, mountains -which must be tunnelled, rivers whose broad -currents are things to conquer; he is an obstacle, -and he must be swept away. To us it matters -not whether his race dwelt here before a Celt had -raised a Druid altar. The self-styled heirs to all -the centuries reck little of such things.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span></p> - -<p>And now let us turn for a moment to that other -wild creature which has made its dwelling on the -Great Prairie.</p> - -<p>Over the grassy ocean of the west there has -moved from time immemorial a restless tide. -Backwards and forwards, now north, now -south—now filling the dark gorges of the -Rocky Mountains—now trailing into the valleys -of the Rio del Norte—now pouring down the -wooded slopes of the Saskatchewan, surged millions -on millions of dusky bisons.</p> - -<p>What led them in their strange migrations no -man could tell, but all at once a mighty impulse -seemed to seize the myriad herds, and they moved -over the broad realm which gave them birth as -the waves of the ocean roll before the storm. -Nothing stopped them on their march; great rivers -stretched before them with steep, overhanging -banks, and beds treacherous with quicksand and -shifting bar; huge chasms and earth-rents, the -work of subterraneous forces, crossed their line of -march, but still the countless thousands swept on. -Through day and night the earth trembled beneath -their tramp, and the air was filled with the deep -bellowing of their unnumbered throats.</p> - -<p>Crowds of wolves and flocks of vultures dogged -and hovered along their way, for many a huge -beast, half sunken in quicksand, caught amidst<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span> -whirling ice flow, or bruised and maimed at the -foot of some steep precipice, marked their line of -march, like the wrecks lying spread behind a routed -army. Nearly two millions of square miles formed -their undivided domain; on three sides a forest -boundary encircled it, on the fourth a great mountain -range loomed up against the western sky. -Through this enormous area countless creeks and -rivers meandered through the meadows, where the -prairie grass grew thick and rank, and the cotton -woods spread their serpentine belts. Out in the vast -prairie the Missouri, the Platte, the Sweet Water, -the Arkansas, the South Saskatchewan, the Bighorn, -the Yellowstone, rolled their volumes towards -the east, gathering a thousand affluents as they -flowed.</p> - -<p>Countless ages passed, tribes warred and wandered, -but the life of the wilderness lay deep -beneath the waves of time, and the roll of the -passing centuries disturbed not its slumber.</p> - -<p>At last the white man came, and soon from -south and north the restless adventurers of Latin -Europe pierced the encircling forests, and beheld -the mighty meadows of the Central Continent. -Spaniards on the south, Frenchmen on the north, -no one in the centre; for the prudent Plymouth -Puritan was more intent on flogging witches and -gathering riches than on penetrating the tangled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span> -forest which lay westward of his settlement. No; -his was not the work of adventure and discovery. -Others might go before and brave the thousand -perils of flood and forest; he would follow after, -as the Jew pedlar follows the spendthrift, as the -sutler dogs the footsteps of the soldier.</p> - -<p>What though he be in possession of the wide -dominion now, and the names of France and Spain -be shrunken into a shapeless dream; <em>that</em> only -proves what we knew before, that the men who -lead the way to a great future are fated never to -reap the golden harvest of their dreams.</p> - -<p>And ever since that advent of the white man -the scene has changed; the long slumber of the -wilderness was broken, and hand in hand with the -new life death moved amidst the wild denizens of -the Prairies. Human life scattered over a vast -area, animal life counted by tens of millions, take a -long time to destroy; and it is only to-day—370 -years after a Portuguese sailor killed and captured a -band of harmless Indians, and 350 since a Spanish -soldier first beheld a herd of buffaloes beyond the -meadows of the Mississippi—that the long, hopeless -struggle of the wild dwellers of the wilderness -may be said to have reached its closing hour.</p> - -<p>In thus classing together the buffalo and the -red man as twin dwellers on the Great Prairie, I -have but followed the Indian idea.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span></p> - -<p>“What shall we do?” said a young Sioux -warrior to an American officer on the Upper -Missouri some fifteen years ago. “What shall we -do? the buffalo is our only friend. When he goes -all is over with the Dacotahs. I speak thus to -you because like me you are a Brave.”</p> - -<p>It was little wonder that he called the buffalo -his only friend. Its skin gave him a house, its robe -a blanket and a bed, its undressed hide a boat, its -short, curved horn a powder-flask, its meat his -daily food, its sinew a string for his bow, its leather -a lariot for his horse, a saddle, bridle, rein, and bit. -Its tail formed an ornament for his tent, its inner -skin a book in which to sketch the brave deeds of -his life, the “medicine robe” of his history. -House, boat, food, bed, and covering, every want -from infancy to age, and after life itself had passed, -wrapt in his buffalo robe the red man waited for -the dawn.</p> - -<div id="i_057" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 41em;"> - <img src="images/i_057.jpg" width="2561" height="1576" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">SUNSET SCENE WITH BUFFALO.</div></div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_57" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Buffalo Hunts.—A Picture once seen, long remembered.—L’Homme -capable.—A wonderful Lake.—The lost Indian.—An -Apparition.—We return home.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">It</span> was mid-November before we reached the -buffalo; the snow had deepened, the cold had -become intense, and our horses under the influence -of travel, cold, and exposure, had become miserably -thin. To hunt the herds on horseback would -have been an impossibility; the new-fallen snow -hid the murderous badger holes that covered the -prairie surface, and to gallop weak horses over -such ground must have been certain disaster.</p> - -<p>Buffalo hunts on horseback or on foot have -frequently been the theme of travellers’ story. -Ruxton and Palliser, and Mayne Reid and Catlin, -have filled many a page with glowing descriptions -of charge and counter-charge, stalk and stampede. -Washington Irving has lighted with his genius the -dull records of western wanderings, and to sketch -now the pursuit of that huge beast (so soon to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> -an extinct giant) would be to repeat a thrice-told -tale.</p> - -<p>Who has not seen in pencil sketch or pen -story the image of the huge, shaggy beast careering -madly before an eagle-feathered red man, -whose horse decked like its rider with the feathered -trophy, launches himself swiftly over the prairie? -The full-drawn bow, the deadly arrow, the stricken -animal, the wild confusion of the flying herd, the -wounded giant turning to bay;—all these have -been described a thousand times; so also has the -stalk, the stealthy approach under the wolf-skin -covering, the careful shot and the stupid stare of the -startled animals as they pause a moment to gather -consciousness that this thing which they deemed -a wolf in the grass is in reality their most deadly -enemy, man. All these have found record from -pen and pencil; but I much doubt me if it be -possible to place before a reader’s mental vision -anything like a true picture of the sense of -solitude, of endless space, of awful desolation which -at times comes to the traveller’s mind as he looks -over some vast prairie and beholds a lonely herd of -bisons trailing slowly across that snow-wrapt, endless -expanse, into the shadows of the coming night.</p> - -<p>Such a sight I have beheld more than once, and -its memory returns at times with the sigh of the -south wind, or the waving of a pine branch. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span> -is from moments such as these that the wanderer -draws the recompence of his toil, and reaps in -after-time the harvest of his hardship. No book -has told the story, no picture has caught the -colouring of sky and plain, no sound can echo -back the music of that untainted breeze, sighing -so mournfully through the yellow grass, but -all the same the vision returns without one effort -of remembrance: the vast plain snow-wrapt, the -west ablaze with gold, and green, and saffron, and -colours never classed or catalogued, while the -horizon circle from north to east and south grows -dim and indistinct, and, far off, the bison herd in -long, scattered file trails slowly across the blue-white -snow into the caverns of the sunset.</p> - -<p>We carried with us a leather tent of eight skins, -small of its kind, but capable of sheltering the five -individuals comprising our party. This tent, -pitched in some hollow at sunset, formed the sole -speck of life amidst the vast solitude. Ten poles -resting on the ground, and locked together at the -top, supported the leather covering. An open -space at the apex of the tent was supposed to -allow the smoke to escape, but the smoke usually -seemed to consider itself under no restraint whatever -in the dim interior of our lodge, and seldom -or never took advantage of the means of freedom -so liberally provided for it. Our stock of fuel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span> -was very limited, and barely sufficed to boil a -kettle and fry a dish of pemmican at the opening -or close of each day. When the evening meal was -finished, we sat awhile grouped around the small -fire in the centre. “L’homme capable” ran round -our line of traps, returning with a couple of kit -foxes, the fattest of which he skinned and roasted -for his supper. Then we gathered the blankets -close together, and lying down slept until the -dawn came struggling through the open roof, and -cold and hungry we sat again around the little -fire. Thus we journeyed on.</p> - -<p>Scattered over the wide prairie which lies -between the South Saskatchewan and the Eagle -Hills roamed many herds of buffalo. But their -numbers were very far short of those immense -herds which, until a few years ago, were wont to -cover the treeless regions of the west. Yet they -were numerous enough to make the onlooker -marvel how they still held their own against the -ever-increasing odds arrayed against them.</p> - -<p>Around the wide circle of this prairie ocean -lay scattered not less than 15,000 wild people, all -preying with wasteful vigour upon these scattered -herds; but the numbers killed for the consumption -of these Indian or half-Indian men formed but a -small item in the lists of slaughter. To the north -and east the denizens of the remote parts of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span> -great regions locked in savage distance, the land of -fur, the land which stretches to the wintry shores -of the Bay of Hudson, and the storm-swept capes -of the Arctic Ocean, looked for their means of -summer transport to these wandering herds in the, -to them, far distant Saskatchewan. What food was -it that the tired <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> munched so stolidly at -nightfall by the camp fire on some long <em>portage</em> -of the Winnipeg, the Nelson, or the Beaver Rivers, -or ate with so much relish ere the morning sun -was glinting along the waves of far Lake Athabasca; -and his boat, rich laden with precious -fur, rocked on the secluded shore of some nameless -bay? It was buffalo pemmican from the Saskatchewan. -And what food was it that these dozen -hungry dogs devoured with such haste by that -lonely camp fire in the dark pine forest, when all -nature lay in its mid-winter torpor frozen to the -soul; when the pine-log flared upon some snow-sheeted -lake, or ice-bound river in the great -wilderness of the north? It was the same hard -mixture of fat and dried buffalo-meat pounded -down into a solid mass which the Indians called -“pemmican.” Small wonder then that the great -herds had dwindled down to their present numbers, -and that now the once wide domain of the buffalo -had shrunken into the limits of the great prairie.</p> - -<p>Yet, even still, the numbers annually killed seem<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span> -quite incredible; 12,000 are said to fall to the -Blackfeet tribes alone; in a single hunt the French -half-breeds, whose winter camp we had lately -visited, had killed 600 cows. The forts of the -Hudson’s Bay Company were filled with many -thousand bags of pemmican, and to each bag two -animals may be counted; while not less than -30,000 robes had already found their way to the Red -River, and fully as many more in skins of parchment -or in leather had been traded or consumed in -the thousand wants of savage life; and all are -ruthlessly killed—young and old, calves and cows, -it matters little; the Indian and the half-breed -know no such quality as forethought. Nor, looking -at this annual havoc, and seeing still in spite -of all the dusky herds yet roaming over the treeless -waste, can we marvel that the Red man should -ascribe to agencies other than mortal the seemingly -endless numbers of his favourite animal?</p> - -<p>South-west from the Eagle Hills, far out in the -prairie, there lies a lake whose waters never rest; -day and night a ceaseless murmur breaks the -silence of the spot.</p> - -<p>“See,” says the red man, “it is from under -that lake that our buffalo comes. You say they -are all gone; but look, they come again and again -to us. We cannot kill them all—they are there -under that lake. Do you hear the noise which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span> -never ceases? It is the buffalo fighting with each -other far down under the ground, and striving -to get out upon the prairie—where else can they -come from?”</p> - -<p>We may well ask the question where can they -come from? for in truth the vast expanse of the -great prairie seems too small to save them from -their relentless foes.</p> - -<p>The creek of the Eagle Hills winds through the -prairie in long, lazy bends. The beaver has made -his home under its banks; and in some of the -serpentine bends the bastard maple lifts its gnarled -trunk, and the willow copses grow thickly. It is -a favourite ground for the hunter in summer; but -now, in mid-November, no sign of man was -visible, and we had the little thicket oasis all to -ourselves.</p> - -<p>It was in this spot, some two years ago, that the -following event occurred. In a band of Crees -travelling over the plains there happened to be a -blind Indian. Following the band one day he -lagged behind, and the party dipping over a ridge -on the prairie became lost to sound. Becoming -suddenly alarmed at having thus lost his friends, -he began to run swiftly in hope of overtaking -them; but now his judgment was at fault, and the -direction of his run was the wrong one—he found -himself alone on the immense plains. Tired at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span> -last by the speed to which feverish anxiety had -urged him, he sat down to think over his chances. -It was hopeless to attempt to regain his party; -he was far out in the grassy ocean, and south, -west, and east, lay hundreds of miles of undulating -plain; to the north many days’ journey, but still -near, in relative distance, lay the forts of the white -man, and the trail which led from one to the other. -He would steer for the north, and would endeavour -to reach one of these forts. It was midsummer; -he had no food, but the carcases of lately-killed -buffalo were, he knew, numerous in that -part of the prairie, and lakes or ponds were to be -found at intervals.</p> - -<p>He set out, and for three days he journeyed -north. “How did he steer?” the reader will -ask; “for have you not told us the man was -blind?” Nevertheless, he steered with accuracy -towards the north. From sunrise he kept the -warm glow on his naked right shoulder; six -hours later the heat fell full upon his back; -towards evening the rays were on his left side; -and when the sun had gone, and the damp dew -began to fall, he lay down for the night: thus -he held a tolerably correct course. At times the -soft mud of a lake shore cloyed his feet; but that -promised water, and after a drink he resumed his -way; the lakelet was rounded and the course pursued.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span> -There was no food; for two days he -travelled on patiently, until at last he stumbled -over the bones of a buffalo. He felt around; it -had been killed some time, and the wolves had left -scant pickings on ribs or legs, but on the massive -head the skin was yet untouched, and his knife -enabled him to satisfy his hunger, and to carry -away a few scraps of skin and flesh.</p> - -<p>Thus recruited he pressed on. It was drawing -towards evening on the fifth day of his weary -journey when he found himself reduced to starvation, -weak from protracted hunger and faint from -thirst; the day had been a warm one, and no friendly -lake had given him drink. His scanty food had -been long exhausted, and there seemed but little -hope that he could live to feel the warm sun again. -Its rays were growing faint upon his left shoulder, -when his feet suddenly sank into soft mud, and the -reeds and flags of a swamp brushed against his -legs: here was water, he lay down and drank a -long, long draught. Then he bethought him, Was -it not better to stay here while life lasted? here he -had at least water, and of all the pangs that can -afflict the lost wanderer that of thirst is the hardest -to bear. He lay down midst the reeds, determined -to wait for death.</p> - -<p>Some few miles distant to the north-east lay -the creek of the Eagle Hills. That evening a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span> -party of hunters from the distant fort of À la Corne, -had appeared on the wide prairies which surrounded -this creek; they were in search of buffalo, -it wanted an hour of sunset. The man in charge -looked at the sinking sun, and he bethought him -of a camping-place. “Go to such and such a -bend of the creek,” he said to his hunters, “unyoke -the horses and make the camp. I will ride -to yonder hill and take a look over the plains for -buffalo; I will rejoin you at the camp.”</p> - -<p>The party separated, and their leader pushed -on to the hill-top for a better survey of the plains. -When he reached the summit of the ridge he cast -a look on every side; no buffalo were to be seen, -but to his surprise, his men, instead of obeying his -orders as to the route, appeared to be steering in -a different direction from the one he had indicated, -and were already far away to the south. When -he again overtook them they were in the act of -camping on the borders of a swampy lake, a long -way from the place he had intended; they had -mistaken the track, they said, and seeing water -here had camped at sunset.</p> - -<p>It was not a good place, and the officer felt -annoyed at their stupidity. While they spoke -together thus, a figure suddenly rose from the -reeds at the further side of the lake, and called -loudly for assistance. For a moment the hunters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span> -were amazed at this sudden apparition; they were -somewhat startled too, for the Blackfeet bands -were said to be on the war-trail. But presently -they saw that there was only a solitary stranger, -and that he was blind and helpless: it was the -lost Cree. He had long before heard the hunters’ -approach, but not less deadly was the fear of -Blackfeet than the dread of death by starvation. -Both meant <em>death</em>; but one meant scalping, therefore -dishonour in addition. It was only when -the welcome sounds of the Cree language fell on -his ear that he could reveal his presence in the -reed-fringed lake.</p> - -<p>I have told this story at length just as I -heard it from the man who had been in charge -of the party of hunters, because it brings home -to the mind of the outsider, not only the power -of endurance which the Indian displays in the -face of physical difficulties, but also the state -of society produced by the never-ending wars -among the Indian tribes. Of the mistake which -caused the hunters to alter their course and pitch -their camp in another direction than that intended -by their leader I have nothing to say; chance is a -strange <em>leader</em> people say. Tables are said to be -turned by unseen powers seemingly like the stars -in the song, “because they’ve nothing else to do;” -but for my part I had rather believe that men’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span> -footsteps are turned south instead of west under -other Guidance than that of chance, when that -change of direction, heedless though it be, saves -some lost wanderer who has lain down to die.</p> - -<p>It was the 3rd of December, when with thin -and tired horses, we returned to the Forks of the -Saskatchewan. We found our house wholly -completed; on the stage in front safe from dogs -and wolves the produce of the hunt was piled, the -weary horses were turned loose on the ridge above, -and with a few books on a shelf over a rude but -comfortable bed, I prepared to pass the next two -months of winter.</p> - -<p>It was full time to reach home; the snow lay -deep upon the ground; the cold, which had set in -unusually early, had even in mid-November fallen -to thirty degrees below zero, and some of our -last buffalo stalks had been made under a temperature -in which frozen fingers usually followed the -handling, with unmittened hands, of rifle stock or -gun trigger.</p> - -<p>Those who in summer or autumn visit the -great prairie of the Saskatchewan can form but -a faint idea of its winter fierceness and utter -desolation. They are prone to paint the scene -as wanting only the settler’s hut, the yoke of -oxen, the waggon, to become at once the paradise -of the husbandman. They little know of what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span> -they speak. Should they really wish to form a true -conception of life in these solitudes, let them go -out towards the close of November into the treeless -waste; <em>then</em>, midst fierce storm and biting cold, -and snow-drift so dense that earth and heaven seem -wrapped together in indistinguishable chaos, they -will witness a sight as different from their summer -ideal as a mid-Atlantic mid-winter storm varies -from a tranquil moonlight on the Ægean Sea.</p> - -<div id="i_069" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_069.jpg" width="2527" height="1577" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">TENT IN THE GREAT PRAIRIE.</div></div> - -<p>During the sixteen days in which we traversed -the prairie on our return journey, we had not seen -one soul, one human being moving over it; the -picture of its desolation was complete.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_70" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Strange Visitors.—At-tistighat the Philosopher.—Indian -Converts.—A Domestic Scene.—The Winter Packet.—Adam -and his Dogs.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">December</span> passed away, the new year came, the -cold became more intense. The snow deepened -and the broad rivers lay hushed under their -sparkling covering; wide roadways for our dog -sleighs. At times there came a day of beautiful -clearness, the sun shone brightly, the sky was of -the deepest blue, and the earth sparkled in its -spotless covering. At night the moon hung over -the snow-wrapt river and silent pines with the -brilliancy of a fairy scene; but many a day -and night of storm and bitter tempest passed, -and not unfrequently the thermometer placed -against the hut wall marked full 70 degrees of -frost.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of the year four of our horses -died, from the depth and hardness of the snow. -The others would have soon followed if left to -find their own sustenance, but a timely removal to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span> -the Fort à la Corne, twenty miles lower down the -river, saved them.</p> - -<p>When the year was drawing to its close two -Indians pitched their lodge on the opposite side -of the North River, and finding our stage pretty -well stocked with food they began to starve -immediately. In other words, it was easier to -come to us for buffalo meat than to hunt deer for -themselves: at all hours of the day they were with -us, and frequently the whole family, two men, two -squaws, and three children, would form a doleful -procession to our hut for food. An Indian never -knocks at a door; he lifts the latch, enters quietly, -shakes hands with every one, and seats himself, -without a word, upon the floor. You may be at -breakfast, at dinner, or in bed, it doesn’t matter. -If food be not offered to him, he will wait until -the meal is finished, and then say that he has not -eaten for so many hours, as the case may be. -Our stock of food was not over sufficient, but it -was impossible to refuse it to them even though -they would not hunt for themselves; and when -the three children were paraded—all pretty little -things from four to seven years of age—the -argument of course became irresistible.</p> - -<p>It was useless to tell them that the winter was -long, that no more buffalo could be obtained; they -seemed to regard starvation as an ordinary event<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span> -to be calculated upon, that as long as any food -was to be obtained it was to be eaten at all times, -and that when it was gone—well then the best -thing was to do without it.</p> - -<p>January drew to a close in very violent storms -accompanied by great cold. Early one morning -“At-tistighat,” or as we called him Bourgout No. -1, arrived with news that his brother had gone -away two days before, that he had no blanket, no -food; and that, as it had not been his intention -to stay out, he concluded that he had perished. -“At-tistighat” was a great scoundrel, but nevertheless, -as the night had been one of terrible -storm, we felt anxious for the safety of his brother, -who was really a good Indian. “Go,” we said to -him, “look for your brother; here is pemmican to -feed you during your search.” He took the food, -but coolly asserted that in all probability his -brother had shot himself, and that consequently -there was no use whatever in going to look for -him; “or,” he said, “he is dead of cold, in which -case it is useless to find him.”</p> - -<p>While he spoke a footstep outside announced -an arrival, the door opened, and the lost Bourgout -No. 2 entered, bearing on his back a heavy load of -venison.</p> - -<p>At-tistighat’s line of argument was quite in -keeping with the Indian character, and was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span> -laughable in its selfish logic. If the man was -alive, he would find his own way home; if dead, -there was nothing more to be done in the matter: -but in any case pemmican was not to be despised.</p> - -<p>But despite their habits of begging, and their -frequently unseasonable visits, our Cree neighbours -afforded us not a little food for amusement in the -long winter evenings. Indian character is worth -the study, if we will only take the trouble to -divest ourselves of the notion that all men should -be like ourselves. There is so much of simplicity -and cunning, so much of close reasoning and -child-like suspicion; so much natural quickness, -sense of humour, credulousness, power of observation, -faith and fun and selfishness, mixed up -together in the Red man’s mental composition; -that the person who will find nothing in Indian -character worth studying will be likely to start -from a base of nullity in his own brain system.</p> - -<p>In nearly all the dealings of the white man with -the red, except perhaps in those of the fur trade, -as conducted by the great fur companies, the -mistake of judging and treating Indians by -European standards has been made. From the -earliest ages of American discovery, down to the -present moment, this error has been manifest; and -it is this error which has rendered the whole -missionary labour, the vast machinery set on foot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span> -by the charity and benevolence of the various -religious bodies during so many centuries, a -practical failure to-day.</p> - -<p>When that Christian King Francis the First -commissioned Cartier to convert the Indians, they -were described in the royal edict as “men without -knowledge of God, or use of reason;” and as the -speediest mode of giving them one, and bringing -them to the other, the Quebec chief savage was at -once kidnapped, carried to France, baptized, and -within six months was a dead man. We may -wonder if his wild subjects had imbibed sufficient -“reason” during the absence of the ship to -realize during the following season the truth of -what they were doubtless told, that it was better -to be a dead Christian than a live savage; but no -doubt, under the circumstances, they might be -excused if they “didn’t quite see it.” Those who -would imagine that the case of Menberton could not -now occur in missionary enterprise are deceived.</p> - -<p>Menberton, who is said to have been a devout -Christian in the early days of Acadie, was duly -instructed in the Lord’s Prayer; at a certain -portion of the prayer he was wont to append a -request that “fish and moose meat” might also -be added to his daily bread. And previous to his -death, which occurred many years after his conversion, -he is said to have stoutly demanded that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span> -the savage rites of sepulture should be bestowed -upon his body, in order that he might be well -prepared to make vigorous war upon his enemies -in the next world. This is of the past; yet it is -not many years since a high dignitary of the -Church was not a little horrified by a request -made by some recently converted Dog-Rib Chiefs -that the rite of Baptism should be bestowed upon -three flaming red flannel shirts, of which they had -for the first time in their lives become the joint -possessors.</p> - -<p>But all this is too long to enter upon -here; enough that to me at least the Indian -character is worth the trouble of close examination. -If those, whose dealings religious and political -with the red man are numerous, would only take -a leaf from Goldsmith’s experience when he first -essayed to become a teacher of English in France, -(“for I found,” he writes, “that it was necessary -I should previously learn French before I could -teach them English,”) very much of the ill success -which had attended labours projected by benevolence, -and prosecuted with zeal and devotion, might -perhaps be avoided.</p> - -<p>Long before ever a white man touched the -American shore a misty idea floated through the -red man’s brain that from far-off lands a stranger -would come as the messenger of peace and plenty,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span> -where both were so frequently unknown. In -Florida, in Norembega, in Canada, the right hand -of fellowship was the <em>first</em> proffered to the new -comer; and when Cartier entered the palisaded -village where now the stately capital of Canada -spreads out along the base of the steep ridge, which -he named Royal after that master whose “honour” -had long been lost ere on Pavia’s field he yielded up -all else, the dusky denizens of Hochelaga brought -forth their sick and stricken comrades “as though -a God had come among them.”</p> - -<p>Three centuries and a half have passed since -then; war, pestilence and famine have followed the -white man’s track. Whole tribes have vanished -even in name from the continent, yet still that -strange tradition of a white stranger, kind and -beneficent, has outlived the unnumbered cruelties -of ages; and to-day the starving camp and the -shivering bivouac hears again the hopeful yet -hopeless story of “a good time coming.”</p> - -<p>Besides our Indians we were favoured with but -few visitors, silence reigned around our residence; -a magpie or a whisky-jack sometimes hopped or -chattered about our meat stage; in the morning -the sharp-tailed grouse croaked in birch or spruce -tree, and at dusk, when every other sound was -hushed, the small grey owl hooted his lonely cry. -Pleasant was it at night when returning after a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span> -long day on snow shoes, or a dog trip to the -nearest fort, to reach the crest of the steep ridge -that surrounded our valley, and see below the firelight -gleaming through the little window of our -hut, and the red sparks flying upward from the -chimney like fire-flies amidst the dark pine-trees; -nor was it less pleasant when as the night wore -on the home letter was penned, or the book read, -while the pine-log fire burnt brightly and the -dogs slept stretched before it, and the light glared -on rifle-barrel or axe-head and showed the skin-hung -rafters of our lonely home.</p> - -<p>As January drew towards a close, it became -necessary to make preparations for a long journey. -Hitherto I had limited my wanderings to the -prairie region of the Saskatchewan, but these -wanderings had only been a preliminary to further -travel into the great northern wilds.</p> - -<p>To pierce the forest region lying north of the -Saskatchewan valley, to see the great lakes of the -Athabasca and that vast extent of country which -pours its waters into the Frozen Ocean, had long -been my desire; and when four months earlier I had -left the banks of the Red River and turned away -from the last limit of civilization, it was with the -hope that ere the winter snow had passed from plain -and forest my wanderings would have led me at least -2000 miles into that vast wilderness of the north.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span></p> - -<p>But many preparations had to be made against -cold and distance. Dogs had to be fattened, -leather clothing got ready, harness and sleds -looked to, baggage reduced to the very smallest -limit, and some one found willing to engage to -drive the second dog sled, and to face the vicissitudes -of the long northern road. The distance -itself was enough to make a man hesitate ere for -hire he embarked on such a journey. The first -great stage was 750 miles, the second was as many -more, and when 1500 miles had been traversed -there still must remain half as much again before, -on the river systems of the North Pacific, we -could emerge into semi-civilized ways of travel.</p> - -<p>Many were the routes which my brain sketched -out during the months of autumn, but finally my -choice rested between two rivers, the Mackenzie -rolling its waters into the Frozen Ocean, the Peace -River piercing the great defiles of the Rocky -Mountains through the cañons and stupendous -gorges of Northern British Columbia. A chance -meeting decided my course.</p> - -<p>One day at the end of October I had camped -during a snow-storm for dinner in the Touchwood -Hills. Suddenly through the drift a horseman came -in sight. He proved to be an officer of the Hudson’s -Bay Company from the distant post of Dunvegan on -the Peace River: of all men he was the one I most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span> -wished to see. Ninety days earlier he had left his -station; it was far away, but still with dogs over -the ice of frozen rivers and lakes, through the -snow of long leagues of forest and muskey and -prairie, I might hope to reach that post on Upper -Peace River in sixty days; twenty days more -might carry me through the defiles of the Rocky -Mountains to waters which flow south into the -Pacific. “Good-bye, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bon voyage</i>,” and we went -our different ways; he towards Red River, I for -Athabasca and the Peace River.</p> - -<p>And now, as I have said, the end of January had -come, and it was time to start; all my preparations -were completed, Cerf-vola and his companions -were fat, strong, and hearty. Dog shoes, copper -kettles, a buffalo robe, a thermometer, some three -or four dozen rounds of ammunition, a little -tobacco and pain-killer, a dial compass, a pedometer, -snow shoes, about fifteen pounds of baggage, -tea, sugar, a little flour, and lastly, the -inevitable pemmican; all were put together, and -I only waited the arrival of the winter packet -from the south to set out.</p> - -<p>Let me see if I can convey to the reader’s mind -a notion of this winter packet.</p> - -<p>Towards the middle of the month of December -there is unusual bustle in the office of the Hudson’s -Bay Company at Fort Garry on the Red River;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span> -the winter packet is being made ready. Two -oblong boxes are filled with letters and papers -addressed to nine different districts of the -northern continent. The limited term district is a -singularly unappropriate one: a single instance -will suffice. From the post of the Forks of the -Athabasca and Clear Water Rivers to the Rocky -Mountain Portage is fully 900 miles as a man can -travel, yet all that distance lies within the limits -of the single Athabasca district; and there are -others larger still. From the Fort Resolution on -the Slave River to the ramparts on the Upper -Yukon, 1100 miles lay their lengths within the -limits of the Mackenzie River district.</p> - -<p>Just as the days are at their shortest, a dog -sled bearing the winter packet starts from Fort -Garry; a man walks behind it, another man some -distance in advance of the dogs. It holds its way -down the Red River to Lake Winnipeg; in about -nine days’ travel it crosses that lake to the north -shore at Norway House; from thence, lessened of -its packet of letters for the Bay of Hudson and -the distant Churchill, it journeys in twenty days’ -travel up the Great Saskatchewan River to Carlton -House. Here it undergoes a complete readjustment; -the Saskatchewan and Lesser Slave Lake -letters are detached from it, and about the 1st of -February it starts on its long journey to the north.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span></p> - -<p>During the succeeding months it holds steadily -along its northern way, sending off at long, long -intervals branch dog packets to right and left; -finally, just as the sunshine of mid-May is beginning -to carry a faint whisper of the coming spring -to the valleys of the Upper Yukon, the dog train, -last of many, drags the packet, now but a tiny -bundle, into the enclosure of La Pierre’s House. -It has travelled nearly 3000 miles; a score of -different dog teams have hauled it, and it has -camped for more than a hundred nights in the -great northern forest.</p> - -<p>The end of January had come, but contrary to -the experience of several years had brought no -packet from Fort Garry, and many were the -surmises afloat as to the cause of this delay. The -old Swampy Indian Adam who, for more than a -score of years had driven the dog packet, had -tumbled into a water-hole in the ice, and his dogs -had literally exemplified one portion of the popular -saying of following their leader through fire and -water; and the packet, Adam, and the dogs, lay at -the bottom of the Saskatchewan River. Such was -one anticipated cause of this non-appearance.</p> - -<p>To many persons the delay was very vexatious, -but to me it was something more. Time was a -precious article: it is true a northern winter is a -long one, but so also was the route I was about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span> -to follow, and I hoped to reach the upper regions -of the Rocky Mountains while winter yet held -with icy grasp the waters of the Peace River -Cañon.</p> - -<p>The beginning of February came, and I could -wait no longer for the missing packet. On the -3rd, at mid-day, I set out on my journey. The -day was bright and beautiful, the dogs climbed -defiantly the steep high point, and we paused a -moment on the summit; beneath lay hut and pine -wood and precipitous bank, all sparkling with -snow and sunshine; and beyond, standing motionless -and silent, rose the Great Sub-Arctic -Forest.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_83" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>A <em>tale</em> of warfare.—Dog-sleds.—A missing link.—The North -Sea.—“Winterers.”—Samuel Hearne.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">During</span> the three months which had elapsed since -his arrival at the Forks, Cerf-vola had led an idle -life; he had led his train occasionally to Fort à la -Corne, or hauled a light sled along the ice of the -frozen rivers, but these were only desultory trips, -and his days had usually passed in peace and -plenty.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I am wrong in saying peace, for the -introduction of several strange dogs had occasioned -much warfare, and although he had invariably -managed to come off victorious, victory -was not obtained without some loss. I have -before remarked that he possessed a very large -bushy tail. In time of war this appendage was -carried prominently over his back, something after -the manner of the plumes upon casque of knight -in olden times, or the more modern helmet of -dragoon in the era of the Peninsular War.</p> - -<p>One day, while he was engaged in a desperate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span> -struggle with a bumptious new-comer, a large ill-conditioned -mongrel which had already been vanquished, -seeing his victor fully occupied, deemed it -an auspicious moment for revenge, and springing -upon the bushy tail proceeded to attack it with -might and main. The unusual noise brought me -to the door in time to separate the combatants -while yet the tail was intact, but so unlooked for -had been the assault that it was found upon -examination to be considerably injured. With -the aid of a needle and thread it was repaired as -best we could, Cerf-vola apparently understanding -what the surgical operation meant, for although -he indulged in plenty of uproar at every stitch no -attempt at biting was made by him. He was now -however sound in body and in tail, and he tugged -away at his load in blissful ignorance that 1500 -miles of labour lay before him.</p> - -<p>I know not if my readers are acquainted with -the manner in which dogs are used as draught -animals in the great fur regions of the north. A -dog sled is simply two thin oak or birch-wood -boards lashed together with deer-skin thongs: -turned up in front like a Norwegian snow shoe, it -runs when light over hard snow or ice with great -ease; its length is about nine feet, its breadth -sixteen inches. Along its outer edges runs a -leather lashing, through the loops of which a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> -leather line is passed, to hold in its place whatever -may be placed upon it. From the front, close to -the turned portion, the traces for draught are -attached. The dogs, usually four in number, -stand in tandem fashion, one before the other, the -best dog generally being placed in front, as “foregoer,” -the next best in rear as “steer-dog.” It -is the business of the foregoer to keep the track, -however faint it may be on lake or river. The -steer-dog guides the sled, and prevents it from -striking or catching in tree or root. An ordinary -load for four dogs weighs from 2 to 400 lbs.; laden -with 200 lbs. dogs will travel on anything like a -good track, or on hard snow, about thirty or -thirty-five miles in each day. In deep or soft -snow the pace is of necessity slow, and twenty to -twenty-five miles will form a fair day’s work.</p> - -<p>If any one should ask what length of time dogs -will thus travel day after day, I refer them to the -following chapters, wherein the fortunes of Cerf-vola -and his brethren, starting out to-day on a -long journey, are duly set forth.</p> - -<p>Some few miles west of the mission station -called Prince Albert I parted from my friend -Captain M——, who thus far had accompanied me. -He was to return to Red River and Canada, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">viá</i> -Cumberland and the lakes; I to hold my way -across the frozen continent to the Pacific. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span> -many months each day would place a double day’s -distance between us, but we still looked forward -to another meeting, even though between us and -that prospect there lay the breadth of all the -savage continent.</p> - -<p>A couple of days later I reached the Hudson’s -Bay Company’s fort of Carlton, the great rendezvous -of the winter packets between north and -south. From north and west several of the -leading agents of the fur company had assembled -at Carlton to await the coming of the packet -bearing news from the outer world. From Fort -Simpson on the far Mackenzie, from Fort Chipewyan -on the lonely lake Athabasca, from Edmonton -on the Upper Saskatchewan, from Isle à la -Crosse, dogs had drawn the masters of these -remote establishments to the central station on -the middle Saskatchewan. But they waited in -vain for the arrival of the packet; with singular -punctuality had their various trains arrived within -a few days of each other from starting-points 2000 -miles apart; yet after a few days’ detention these -officers felt anxious to set out once more on their -journey, and many a time the hill-side on which -the packet must first appear was scanned by -watchers, and all the boasted second sight and -conjuring power of haggard squaw and medicine -man was set at work to discover the whereabouts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span> -of the “missing link” between the realms of civilization -and savagery. To me the delay, except for -the exigencies of time and distance, was not -irksome. I was in the society of gentlemen -whose lives had been passed in all portions of the -great north, on the frozen shores of Hudson’s -Bay, in the mountain fastnesses of the Chipewyan -range, or midst the savage solitudes that lie where, -in long, low-lying capes, and ice-piled promontories, -the shore of America stretches out to meet -the waves of the Northern Ocean.</p> - -<p>There was one present who in the past seven -months had travelled by horse and canoe, boat and -dog train, full 4000 miles; and another, destined -to be my close companion during many weeks, -whose matchless determination and power of -endurance had carried him in a single winter from -the Lower Mackenzie River to the banks of the -Mississippi.</p> - -<p>Here, while we await the winter packet, let me -sketch with hasty and imperfect touch the lives of -those who, as the “winterers” of the great Company -of Adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay, -have made their homes in the wilderness.</p> - -<p>Two hundred and sixty-two years ago, a French adventurer -under the banner of Samuel de Champlain -wintered with an Indian tribe on the shores of the -Upper Ottawa. In the ensuing spring he returned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span> -to Montreal, recounted his adventures, and became -the hero of an hour. Beyond the country of the -Ottawas he described a vast region, and from the -uttermost sources of the Ottawa a large river ran -towards the north until it ended in the North Sea. -He had been there he said, and on the shore lay -the ribs of an English vessel wrecked, and the -skeletons of English sailors who had been drowned -or murdered. His story was a false one, and ere -a year had passed he confessed his duplicity; he -had not been near the North Sea, nor had he seen -aught that he described.</p> - -<p>Yet was there even more than a germ of truth -in his tale of wreck and disaster, for just one year -earlier in this same North Sea, a brave English -sailor had been set adrift in an open boat, with -half a dozen faithful seamen; and of all the dark -mysteries of the merciless ocean, no mystery lies -wrapt in deeper shadow than that which hangs -over the fate of Hudson.</p> - -<p>But the seventeenth century was not an age -when wreck or ruin could daunt the spirit of discovery. -Here in this lonely North Sea, the palm -of adventure belonged not to France alone. Spain -might overrun the rich regions of the tropics, -Richelieu (prototype of the great German chancellor -of to-day) might plant the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">fleur-de-lis</i> along -the mighty St. Lawrence, but the north—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span> -frozen north—must be the land of English enterprise -and English daring. The years that followed -the casting away of the fearless Hudson saw -strange vessels coasting the misty shores of that -weird sea; at first, to seek through its bergs and -ice floes, its dreary cloud-wrapt fiords and inlets, -a passage to the land where ceaseless sunshine -glinted on the spice-scented shores of fabulous -Cathay; and later on, to trade with the savages -who clad themselves in skins, which the fairest -favourites of Whitehall or the Louvre (by a strange -extreme wherein savagery joined hands with civilization) -would be proud to wrap round their snowy -shoulders.</p> - -<p>Prosecuted at first by desultory and chance -adventurers, this trade in furs soon took definite -form and became a branch of commerce. On -the lonely sea-shores wooden buildings rose -along the estuaries of rivers flowing from an unknown -land. These were honoured by the title of -fort or factory, and then the ships sailed back to -England ere the autumn ice had closed upon the -waters; while behind in Rupert’s Fort, York -Factory, Churchill, or Albany (names which tell -the political history of their day), stayed the agents, -or “winterers,” whose work it was to face for a -long season of hardship, famine, and disease, a -climate so rigorous that not unfrequently, when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span> -the returning vessel rose upon the distant sea -line, scarce half the eyes that had seen her vanish -were there to watch her return. And they had -other foes to contend with. Over the height -of land, away by the great lakes, and along the -forest shores of the St. Lawrence, the adventurers -of another nation had long been busy at the -mingled work of conquest and traffic. The rival -Sultans of France and England could, midst the -more pressing cares of their respective harems, -find time occasionally to scribble “Henri” or -“Charles” at the foot of a parchment scroll which -gave a continent to a company; it little mattered -whether Spaniard, Frenchman, or Briton had first -bestowed the gift, the rival claimants might fight -for the possession as they pleased. The geography -of this New World was uncertain, and where Florida -ended or Canada began was not matter of much -consequence. But the great cardinal, like the -great chancellor, was not likely to err in the -matter of boundaries. “If there should be any -doubt about the parts, we can take the whole,” -was probably as good a maxim then as now; and -accordingly we find at one sweep the whole northern -continent, from Florida to the Arctic Circle, handed -over to a company of which the priest-soldier was -the moving spirit.</p> - -<p>Thus began the long strife between France and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span> -England in North America,—a strife which only -ended under the walls of Quebec. The story of -their bravery, their endurance, their constancy, -their heroism, has been woven into deathless -history by a master-hand.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> To France belongs -the glory of the Great West—not the less her -glory because the sun has set for ever upon her -empire. Nothing remains to her. Promontory -or lonely isle, name of sea-washed cape, or silent -lake, half mistily tells of her former dominion. -In the deep recesses of some north-western lake -or river-reach the echoes still waken to the notes -of some old French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">chanson</i>, as the half Indian -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i>, ignorant of all save the sound, dips his -glistening paddle to the cadence of his song. -But of all that Cartier and Champlain, De Monts, -La Salle, Marquette, Frontenac, and Montcalm -lived and died for—nothing more remains.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> Francis Parkman.</p> - -</div> - -<p>Poor France! In the New World and in the Old -history owes thee much. Yet in both hast thou -paid the full measure of thy people’s wrong.</p> - -<p>But to return. The seventeenth century had -not closed ere the sea of Hudson became the -theatre of strife, the wooden palisades of the -factories were battered or burnt down; and one -fine day in August, 1697, a loud cannonade<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span> -boomed over the sullen waters, and before the -long summer twilight had closed, the “Hampshire,” -with her fifty-two guns on high poop or -lofty forecastle, lay deep beneath the icy sea, her -consorts the Frenchman’s prize. Nor had she -gone down before a foe more powerful, but to the -single frigate of Le Moyne d’Iberville, a child of -Old and New France, the boldest rover that e’er -went forth upon the Northern Seas. Some fifteen -years later France resigned her claim to these -sterile shores. Blenheim, Ramilies, Oudenarde, -and Malplaquet had given to England the sole -possession of the frozen north.</p> - -<p>And now for nigh seventy years the English -Company pursued unmolested its trade along the -coast. A strong fort, not of wood and lath and -stockade, but of hard English brick and native -granite hewn by English hands, rose near the -estuary of the Churchill River. To this fort the -natives came annually along the English river -bearing skins gathered far inland, along the shores -of the Lake of the Hills, and the borders of the -great river of the north.</p> - -<p>With these natives wandered back an Englishman -named Samuel Hearne; he reached the -Lake Athabasca, and on all sides he heard of -large rivers, some coming from south and west, -others flowing to the remotest north. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span> -wandered on from tribe to tribe, reacted a great -lake, descended a great river to the north, and -saw at last the Arctic Sea.</p> - -<p>Slowly did the Fur Company establish itself in -the interior. It was easier to let the natives bring -down the rich furs to the coast than to seek them -in these friendless regions. But at last a subtle -rival appeared on the scene; the story of the -North-West Fur Company has often been told, -and in another place we have painted the effects -of that conflict; here it is enough to say that -when in 1822 the north-west became merged into -the older corporation, posts or forts had been -scattered throughout the entire continent, and -that henceforth from Oregon to Ungava, from -Mingan to the Mackenzie, the countless tribes -knew but one lord and master, the Company of -Adventurers from England trading into Hudson’s -Bay.</p> - -<p>What in the meantime was the work of those -wintering agents whose homes were made in the -wilderness? God knows their lives were hard. -They came generally from the remote isles or -highlands of Scotland, they left home young, and -the mind tires when it thinks upon the remoteness -of many of their fur stations. Dreary and -monotonous beyond words was their home life, -and hardship was its rule. To travel on foot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span> -1000 miles in winter’s darkest time, to live upon -the coarsest food, to see nought of bread or sugar -for long months, to lie down at night under the -freezing branches, to feel cold such as Englishmen -in England cannot even comprehend, often -to starve, always to dwell in exile from the great -world. Such was the routine of their lives. The -names of these northern posts tell the story of -their toil. “Resolution,” “Providence,” “Good -Hope,” “Enterprise,” “Reliance,” “Confidence;” -such were the titles given to these little -forts on the distant Mackenzie, or the desolate -shores of the great Slave Lake. Who can tell -what memories of early days in the far away -Scottish isles, or Highland glen, must have -come to these men as the tempest swept -the stunted pine-forest, and wrack and drift -hurled across the frozen lake—when the dawn -and the dusk, separated by only a few hours’ daylight, -closed into the long, dark night. Perchance -the savage scene was lost in a dreamy -vision of some lonely Scottish loch, some Druid -mound in far away Lewis, some vista of a fireside, -when storm howled and waves ran high upon the -beach of Stornoway.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_95" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>A dog of no character.—The Green Lake.—Lac Ile à la -Crosse.—A cold day.—Fort Ile à la Crosse.—A long-lost -brother.—Lost upon the Lake.—Unwelcome neighbours.—Mr. -Roderick Macfarlane.—A beautiful morning.—Marble -features.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">On</span> the night of the 11th of February, under a -brilliant moonlight, we quitted Fort Carlton; crossing -the Saskatchewan, we climbed the steep -northern bank, and paused a moment to look back. -The moon was at its full, not a cloud slept in the -vast blue vault of heaven, a great planet burned in -the western sky; the river lay beneath in spotless -lustre; shore and prairie, ridge and lowland, sparkled -in the sheen of snow and moonlight. Then I -sprung upon my sled, and followed the others, for -the music of their dog-bells was already getting -faint.</p> - -<p>The two following days saw us journeying on -through a rich and fertile land. Clumps of poplar -interspersed with pine, dotted the undulating -surface of the country. Lakes were numerous, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span> -the yellow grass along their margins still showed -above the deep snow.</p> - -<p>Six trains of dogs, twenty-three dogs in all, -made a goodly show; the northern ones all beaded, -belled, and ribboned, were mostly large powerful -animals. Cree, French, and English names were -curiously intermixed, and as varied were the -tongues used to urge the trains to fresh exertions. -Sometimes a dog would be abused, vilified, and -cursed, in French alone; at others, he would be -implored, in Cree, to put forth greater efforts. -“Kuskey-tay-o-atim-moos,” or the little “black -dog” would be appealed to, “for the love of Heaven -to haul his traces.” He would be solemnly informed -that he was a dog of no character; that he was the -child of very disreputable parents; that, in fact, -his mother had been no better than she should -have been. Generally speaking, this information -did not appear to have much effect upon Kuskey-tay-o-atim-moos, -who was doubtless well satisfied -if the abuse hurled at him and his progenitors -exhausted the ire of his driver, and saved his back -at the expense of his relations.</p> - -<p>Four days of rapid travelling carried us far to -the north. Early on the third day of travel the -open country, with its lakelets and poplar ridges, -was left behind, and the forest region entered upon -for the first time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span></p> - -<p>Day had not yet dawned when we quitted a deserted -hut which had given us shelter for the night; -a succession of steep hills rose before us, and when -the highest had been gained, the dawn had broken -upon the dull grey landscape. Before us the -great Sub-Arctic Forest stretched away to the north, -a line of lakes, its rampart of defence against the -wasting fires of the prairie region, lay beneath. -This was the southern limit of that vast forest -whose northern extreme must be sought where the -waters of the Mackenzie mingle with the waves of -the Arctic Sea.</p> - -<p>We entered this forest, and in four days reached -the southern end of the Green Lake, a long narrow -sheet of water of great depth. The dogs went -briskly over the hard snow on the surface of the -ice-covered lake, and ere sun set on the 15th of -February we were housed in the little Hudson’s -Bay post, near the northern extremity of the lake. -We had run about 150 miles in four days.</p> - -<p>A little more than midway between Carlton -and Green Lake, the traveller crosses the height -of land between the Saskatchewan and Beaver -Rivers; its elevation is about 1700 feet above the -sea level, but the rise on either side is barely perceptible, -and between the wooded hills, a network -of lakes linked together by swamps and muskegs -spreads in every direction. These lakes abound<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span> -with the finest fish; the woods are fairly stocked -with fur-bearing animals, and the country is in -many respects fitted to be made the scene of -Indian settlement, upon a plan not yet attempted -by American or Canadian governments in their -dealings with the red man.</p> - -<p>On the morning of the 17th February we -quitted the Green Lake, and continued on our -northern way. Early on the day of departure we -struck the Beaver or Upper Churchill river, and -followed its winding course for some forty miles. -The shores were well wooded with white spruce, -juniper, and birch; the banks, some ten or twenty -feet above the surface of the ice, sloped easily -back; while at every ten or fifteen miles smaller -streams sought the main river, and at each accession -the bed of the channel nearly doubled in width.</p> - -<p>Hitherto I have not spoken of the cold; the -snow lay deep upon the ground, but so far the -days had been fine, and the nights, though of -course cold, were by no means excessively so. The -morning of the 19th February found us camped on a -pine ridge, between lakes, about fifteen miles south -of Lac Ile à la Crosse, by the spot where an ox had -perished of starvation during the previous autumn, -his bones now furnishing a night-long repast for -our hungry dogs. The night had been very cold, -and despite of blanket or buffalo robe it was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span> -impossible to remain long asleep. It may seem -strange to those who live in warm houses, who -sleep in cosy rooms from which the draught is -carefully excluded, and to whom the notion of -seeking one’s rest on the ground, under a pine-tree -in mid-winter, would appear eminently suicidal; -it may seem strange, I say, how in a -climate where cold is measured by degrees as -much <em>below</em> the freezing point as the hottest -shade heat of Carnatic or Scindian summer is -known to be <em>above</em> it, that men should be able at -the close of a hard day’s march to lie down to -rest under the open heavens. Yet so it is.</p> - -<p>When the light begins to fade over the frozen -solitude, and the first melancholy hoot of the -night owl is heard, the traveller in the north looks -around him for “a good camping-place.” In the -forest country he has not long to seek for it; -a few dead trees for fuel, a level space for his fire -and his blanket, some green young pines to give -him “brush” for his bed, and all his requirements -are supplied. The camp is soon made, the fire -lighted, the kettle filled with snow and set to -boil, the supper finished, dogs fed, and the -blankets spread out over the pine brush. It is -scarcely necessary to say that there is not much -time lost in the operation of undressing; under -the circumstances one is more likely to reverse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span> -the process, and literally (not figuratively as in -the case of modern society, preparing for her ball) -to <em>dress</em> for the night. Then begins the cold; it -has been bitterly cold all day, with darkness; the -wind has lulled, and the frost has come out of the -cold, grey sky with still, silent rigour. If you -have a thermometer placed in the snow at your -head the spirit will have shrunken back into the -twenties and thirties below zero; and just when -the dawn is stealing over the eastern pine tops it -will not unfrequently be into the forties. Well -then, that is cold if you like! You are tired by a -thirty-mile march on snow shoes. You have lain -down with stiffened limbs and blistered feet, and -sleep comes to you by the mere force of your -fatigue; but never goes the consciousness of the -cold from your waking brain; and as you lie with -crossed arms and up-gathered knees beneath your -buffalo robe, you welcome as a benefactor any -short-haired, shivering dog who may be forced from -his lair in the snow to seek a few hours’ sleep -upon the outside of your blankets.</p> - -<p>Yet do not imagine, reader, that all this is next -to an impossibility, that men will perish under many -nights of it. Men do not perish thus easily. -Nay even, when before dawn the fire has been set -alight, and the tea swallowed hot and strong, the -whole thing is nigh forgotten, not unfrequently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span> -forgotten in the anticipations of a cold still more -trying in the day’s journey which is before you.</p> - -<p>Such was the case now. We had slept coldly, -and ere daylight the thermometer showed 32 -degrees below zero. A strong wind swept through -the fir-trees from the north; at daylight the wind -lulled, but every one seemed to anticipate a bad -day, and leather coats and capôtes were all in use.</p> - -<p>We set off at six o’clock. For a time calmness -reigned, but at sunrise the north wind sprang up -again, and the cold soon became more than one -could bear. Before mid-day we reached the -southern end of Lac Ile à la Crosse; before us to -the north lay nearly thirty miles of shelterless -lake, and down this great stretch of ice the wind -came with merciless severity.</p> - -<p>We made a fire, drank a great deal of hot tea, -muffled up as best we could, and put out into the -lake. All that day I had been ill, and with no -little difficulty had managed to keep up with the -party. I do not think that I had, in the experience -of many bitter days of travel, ever felt such cold; -but I attributed this to illness more than to the -day’s severity.</p> - -<p>We held on; right in our teeth blew the bitter -blast, the dogs with low-bent heads tugged -steadily onward, the half-breeds and Indians -wrapped their blankets round their heads, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span> -bending forward as they ran made their way -against the wind. To run was instantly to freeze -one’s face; to lie on the sled was to chill through -the body to the very marrow. It was impossible -to face it long, and again we put in to shore, made -a fire, and boiled some tea.</p> - -<p>At mid-day the sun shone, and the thermometer -stood at 26° below zero; the sun was utterly -powerless to make itself felt in the slightest degree; -a drift of dry snow flew before the bitter -wind. Was this really great cold? I often asked -myself. I had not long to wait for an answer. -My two fellow-travellers were perhaps of all men -in those regions best able to settle a question of -cold. One had spent nigh thirty years in many -parts of the Continent; the other had dwelt for -years within the Arctic Circle, and had travelled -the shores of the Arctic Ocean at a time when the -Esquimaux keep close within their greasy snow -huts. Both were renowned travellers in a land -where bad travellers were unknown: the testimony -of such men was conclusive, and for years they -had not known so cold a day.</p> - -<p>“I doubt if I have ever felt greater cold than -this, even on the Anderson or the Mackenzie,” said -the man who was so well acquainted with winter -hardship. After that I did not care so much; if -<em>they</em> felt it cold, if their cheeks grew white and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span> -hard in the bitter blast, surely I could afford -to freeze half my face and all my fingers to boot.</p> - -<p>Yet at the time it was no laughing matter; to -look forward to an hour seemed an infinity of -pain. One rubbed and rubbed away at solid nose -and white cheek, but that only added one’s fingers -to the list of iced things one had to carry.</p> - -<p>At last the sun began to decline to the west, the -wind fell with it, the thick, low-tying drift disappeared, -and it was possible by running hard to -restore the circulation. With dusk came a -magnificent Aurora; the sheeted light quivered -over the frozen lake like fleecy clouds of many -colours blown across the stars. Night had long -closed when we reached the warm shelter of the -shore, and saw the welcome lights of houses in the -gloom. Dogs barked, bolts rattled, men and -children issued from the snow-covered huts; and -at the door of his house stood my kind fellow-traveller, -the chief factor of the district, waiting -to welcome me to his fort of Ile à la Crosse.</p> - -<p>The fort of Ile à la Crosse is a solitary spot. -Behind it spreads a land of worthless forest, a -region abounding in swamps and muskegs, in -front the long arms of the Cruciform Lake. It is -not from its shape that the lake bears its name; in -the centre, where the four long arms meet, stands -an island, on the open shore of which the Indians<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span> -in bygone times were wont to play their favourite -game of la Crosse. The game named the island, -and the island in turn gave its name to the lake. -The Beaver River enters the lake at the south-east, -and leaves it again on the north-west side. The -elevation of the lake above the level of Hudson’s -Bay cannot be less than 1300 feet, so it is little -wonder if the wild winds of the north should have -full sweep across its frozen surface. The lake is well -stocked with excellent white fish, and by the produce -of the net the garrison of the fort is kept wholly in -food, about 130 large fish being daily consumed in it.</p> - -<p>At a short distance from the fort stands the -French Mission. One of the earliest established -in the north, it has thrown out many branches -into more remote solitudes. Four ladies of the -order of Grey Nuns have made their home here, -and their school already contains some thirty -children. If one wants to see what can be made -of a very limited space, one should visit this convent -at Ile à la Crosse; the entire building is a small -wooden structure, yet school, dormitory, oratory, -kitchen, and dining-room are all contained therein.</p> - -<p>The sisters seemed happy and contented, chatted -gaily of the outside world, or of their far-away -homes in Lower Canada. Their present house was -only a temporary erection. In one fell night fire -had destroyed a larger building, and consumed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span> -their library, oratory, everything; and now its -ravages were being slowly repaired. Of course it -was an event to be long remembered, and the lady -who described to us the calamity seemed still to -feel the terror of the moment.</p> - -<p>My long journey left me no time for delay, and -after one day’s rest it became necessary to resume -the march. The morning of the 21st February -found us again in motion.</p> - -<p>We now numbered some five sleds; the officer -in charge of the Athabasca district, the next to the -north, was still to be my fellow-traveller for nearly -400 miles to his post of Fort Chipewyan. All -dogs save mine were fresh ones, but Cerf-vola -showed not one sign of fatigue, and Spanker -was still strong and hearty. Pony was, however, -betraying every indication of giving out, and -had long proved himself an arrant scoundrel.</p> - -<p>Dogs were scarce in the North this year. A -distemper had swept over all the forts, and many -a trusty hauler had gone to the land where -harness is unknown.</p> - -<p>Here, at Ile à la Crosse, I obtained an eighth -dog. This dog was Major; he was an Esquimaux -from Deer’s Lake, the birth-place of Cerf-vola, and -he bore a very strong resemblance to my leader. -It is not unlikely that they were closely related, -perhaps brothers, who had thus, after many wanderings,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span> -come together; but, be that as it may, -Cerf-vola treated his long-lost brother with evident -suspicion, and continued to maintain towards all -outsiders a dogged demeanour.</p> - -<p>Major’s resemblance to the Untiring led to a -grievous error on the morning of my departure -from the fort.</p> - -<p>It was two hours before daylight when the -dogs were put into harness; it was a morning of -bitter cold; a faint old moon hung in the east; -over the dim lake, a shadowy Aurora flickered -across the stars; it was as wild and cheerless a -sight as eye of mortal could look upon; and the -work of getting the poor unwilling dogs into -their harness was done by the Indians and half-breeds -in no amiable mood.</p> - -<p>In the haste and darkness the Untiring was -placed last in the train which he had so long led, -the new-comer, Major, getting the foremost place. -Upon my assuming charge of the train, an ominous -tendency to growl and fight on the part of my -steer-dog told me something was wrong; it was -too dark to see plainly, but a touch of the Untiring’s -nose told me that the right dog was in -the wrong place.</p> - -<p>The mistake was quickly rectified, but, nevertheless, -I fear its memory long rankled in the -mind of Cerf-vola, for all that day, and for some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span> -days after, he never missed an opportunity of -counter-marching suddenly in his harness and -prostrating the unoffending Major at his post of -steer-dog; the attack was generally made with so -much suddenness and vigour that Major instantly -capitulated, “turning a turtle” in his traces. -This unlooked-for assault was usually accompanied -by a flank movement on the part of -Spanker, who, whenever there was anything in -the shape of fighting lying around, was sure to -have a tooth in it on his own account, being never -very particular as to whether he attacked the -head of the rear dog or the tail of his friend in -front.</p> - -<p>All this led at times to fearful confusion in my -train; they jumped on one another; they tangled -traces, and back-bands, and collar-straps into sad -knots and interlacings, which baffled my poor -frozen fingers to unravel. Often have I seen -them in a huge ball rolling over each other in the -snow, while the rapid application of my whip only -appeared to make matters worse, conveying the -idea to Spanker or the Untiring that they were -being badly bitten by an unknown belligerent.</p> - -<p>Like the lady in Tennyson’s “Princess,” they -“mouthed and mumbled” each other in a very -perplexing manner, but, of course, from a cause -totally at variance from that which influenced the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span> -matron in the poem. These events only occurred, -however, when a new dog was added to the train; -and, after a day or so, things got smoothed down, -and all tugged at the moose-skin collars in peaceful -unanimity.</p> - -<p>But to return. We started from Ile à la Crosse, -and held our way over a chain of lakes and rivers. -Rivière Cruise was passed, Lac Clair lay at sun-down -far stretching to our right into the blue cold -north, and when dusk had come, we were halted -for the night in a lonely Indian hut which stood -on the shores of the Detroit, fully forty miles -from our starting-place of the morning.</p> - -<p>“A long, hard, cold day; storm, drift, and -desolation. We are lost upon the lake.”</p> - -<p>Such is the entry which meets my eye as I -turn to the page of a scanty note-book which -records the 22nd of February; and now looking -back upon this day, it does not seem to me that -the entry exaggerates in its pithy summing up -the misery of the day’s travel. To recount the -events of each day’s journey, to give minutely, -starting-point, date, distance, and resting-place, is -too frequently an error into which travellers are -wont to fall. I have read somewhere in a review -of a work on African travel, that no literary skill -has hitherto been able to enliven the description of -how the traveller left a village of dirty negroes in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span> -the morning, and struggled through swamps all -day, and crossed a river swarming with hippopotami, -and approached a wood where there were -elephants, and finally got to another village of -dirty negroes in the evening. The reviewer is -right; the reiterated recital of Arctic cold and hardship, -or of African heat and misery, must be as -wearisome to the reader as its realization was -painful to the writer; but the traveller has one -advantage over the reader, the reality of the -“storm, drift, and desolation” had the excitement -of the very pain which they produced. To -be lost in a haze of blinding snow, to have a spur -of icy keenness urging one to fresh exertion, to -seek with dazed eyes hour after hour for a faint print -of snow shoes or mocassin on the solid surface of -a large lake, to see the night approaching and to -urge the dogs with whip and voice to fresh exertions, -to greater efforts to gain some distant land-point -ere night has wrapped the dreary scene in -darkness; all this doled out hour by hour in -narrative would be dull indeed.</p> - -<p>To me the chief excitement lay in the question, -Will this trail lead to aught? Will we save -daylight to the shore? But to the reader the -fact is already patent that the trail did lead to -something, and that the night did not find the -travellers still lost on the frozen lake.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span></p> - -<p>Neither could the reader enter into the joy with -which, after such a day of toil and hardships, the -traveller sees in the gloom the haven he has -sought so long; it may be only a rude cabin with -windows cut from the snow-drift or the moose-skin, -it may be only a camp-fire in a pine clump, -but nevertheless the lost wanderer hails with a -feeling of intense joy the gleam which tells him of -a resting-place; and as he stretches his weary -limbs on the hut floor or the pine-bush, he laughs -and jests over the misfortunes, fatigues, and fears, -which but a short hour before were heartsickening -enough.</p> - -<p>It was with feelings such as this that I beheld -the lights of Rivière la Loche station on the night -of the 22nd of February; for, through an afternoon -of intense cold and blinding drift, we had -struggled in vain to keep the track across the -Buffalo Lake. The guide had vanished in the -drift, and it was only through the exertions of my -companion after hours of toil that we were able -to regain the track, and reach, late on Saturday -evening, the warm shelter of the little post; a -small, clean room, a bright fire, a good supper, an -entire twenty-four hours of sleep, and rest in prospect. -Is it any wonder that with such surroundings -the hut at Rivière la Loche seemed a palace?</p> - -<p>And now each succeeding day carried us further<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span> -into the great wilderness of the north, over lakes -whose dim shores loomed through the driving -snow, and the ragged pines tossed wildly in the -wind; through marsh and muskeg and tangled -wood, and all the long monotony of dreary -savagery which lies on that dim ridge, from whose -sides the waters roll east to the Bay of Hudson, -north to the Frozen Ocean.</p> - -<p>We reached the Methy Portage, and turned -north-west through a long region of worthless -forest. Now and again a wood Cariboo crossed the -track; a marten showed upon a frozen lake; but -no other sign of life was visible. The whole earth -seemed to sleep in savage desolation; the snow lay -deep upon the ground, and slowly we plodded on.</p> - -<p>To rise at half-past two o’clock a.m., start at -four, and plod on until sunset, halting twice for -an hour during the day, this was the history of -each day’s toil. Yet, with this long day of work, -we could only travel about twenty-five miles. In -front, along the track, went a young Chipewyan -Indian; then came a train of dogs floundering -deep in the soft snow; then the other trains -wound along upon firmer footing. Camp-making -in the evening in this deep snow was tedious work. -It was hard, too, to hunt up the various dogs in the -small hours of the morning, from their lairs in -snow-drift or beneath root of tree; but some dogs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span> -kept uncomfortably close to camp, and I well -remember waking one night out of a deep sleep, -to find two huge beasts tearing each other to pieces -on the top of the buffalo bag in which I lay.</p> - -<p>After three days of wearisome labour on this -summit ridge of the northern continent we reached -the edge of a deep glen, 700 feet below the plateau. -At the bottom of this valley a small river ran in -many curves between high-wooded shores. The -sleds bounded rapidly down the steep descent, dogs -and loads rolling frequently in a confused heap -together. Night had fallen when we gained the -lower valley, and made a camp in the darkness -near the winding river; the height of land was -passed, and the river in the glen was the Clearwater -of the Athabasca.</p> - -<p>I have before spoken of the life of hardship to -which the wintering agents of the Hudson’s Bay -Company are habituated, nor was I without some -practical knowledge of the subject to which I -have alluded. I had now, however, full opportunity -of judging the measure of toil contained in -the simple encomium one often utters in the north. -“He is a good traveller.”</p> - -<p>Few men have led, even in the hard regions of -the north, a life of greater toil than Mr. Roderick -Macfarlane. He had left his island home when -almost a boy, and in earliest manhood had entered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span> -the remote wilds of the Mackenzie River. For -seventeen years he had remained cut off from the -outer world; yet his mind had never permitted -itself to sink amidst the oppressive solitudes by -which he was surrounded: it rose rather to the -level of the vastness and grandeur which Nature -wears even in her extreme of desolation.</p> - -<p>He entered with vigour into the life of toil before -him. By no means of a strong constitution or -frame of body, he nevertheless fought his way to -hardiness; midst cold and darkness and scant -living, the natural accompaniments of remote -travel, he traversed the country between the Peel, -Mackenzie, and Liard rivers, and pushed his explorations -to the hitherto unknown River Anderson. -Here, on the borders of the Barren Ground, and far -within the Arctic Circle, he founded the most -northern and remote of all the trading stations of -the Fur Company. In mid-winter he visited the -shores of the Frozen Ocean, and dwelt with the -Esquimaux along the desolate coasts of that bay -which bears the name of England’s most hapless -explorer.</p> - -<p>Nor was it all a land of desolation to him. -Directed by a mind as sanguine as his own,<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span> -entered warmly into the pursuits of natural history, -and classed and catalogued the numerous -birds which seek in summer these friendless regions, -proving in some instances the range of several of -the tiniest of the feathered wanderers to reach -from Texas to the Arctic shores.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> The late Major Kennicot, U.S.A., who, in charge of -the United States telegraph exploration, died at Fort Yukon, Alaska.</p> - -</div> - -<p>All his travels were performed on snow shoes, -driving his train of dogs, or beating the track for -them in the snow. In a single winter, as I have -before mentioned, he passed from the Mackenzie -River to the Mississippi, driving the same train of -dogs to Fort Garry, fully 2000 miles from his -starting-point; and it was early in the following -summer, on his return from England after a hasty -visit, the first during twenty years, that I made -his acquaintance in the American State of Minnesota. -He was not only acquainted with all the -vicissitudes of northern travel, but his mind was -well stored with the history of previous exploration. -Chance and the energy of the old North-West -Company had accumulated a large store of -valuable books in the principal fort on the Mackenzie. -These had been carefully studied during -periods of inaction, and arctic exploration in -reality or in narrative was equally familiar to him.</p> - -<p>“I would have given my right arm to have -been allowed to go on one of these search expeditions,” -he often said to me; and perhaps, if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span> -those wise and sapient men, who, acting in a corporate -or individual capacity, have the power of -selection for the work of relief or exploration, -would only accustom themselves to make choice -of such materials, the bones that now dot the -sands of King William’s Land or the estuary of -the Great Fish River, might in the flesh yet move -amongst us.</p> - -<p>One night we were camped on a solitary island -in the Swan Lake. The camp had been made -after sunset, and as the morning’s path lay across -the lake, over hard snow where no track was -necessary, it was our intention to start on our way -long before daybreak. In this matter of early -starting it is almost always impossible to rely on -the Indian or the half-breed <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i>. They will -lie close hid beneath their blankets, unless, indeed, -the cold should become so intense as to force them -to arise and light a fire; but, generally speaking, -they will lie huddled so closely together that they -can defy the elements, and it becomes no easy -matter to arouse them from their pretended slumbers -at two or three o’clock of a dead-cold morning. -My companion, however, seemed to be able -to live without sleep. At two o’clock he would -arise from his deer-skin robe and set the camp -astir. I generally got an hour’s law until the fire -was fairly agoing and the tea-kettle had been boiled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span></p> - -<p>No matter what the morning was, he never -complained. This morning on Swan Lake was -bitterly cold—30° below zero at my head.</p> - -<p>“Beautiful morning!” he exclaimed, as I -emerged from my buffalo robe at three o’clock; -and he really meant it. I was not to be done.</p> - -<p>“Oh, delightful!” I managed to chatter forth, -with a tolerable degree of acquiescence in my -voice, a few mental reservations and many bodily -ones all over me.</p> - -<p>But 30° below zero, unaccompanied by wind, is -not so bad after all when one is fairly under weigh -and has rubbed one’s nose for a time, and struck -the huge “mittained” hands violently together, -and run a mile or so; but let the faintest possible -breath of wind arise—a “zephyr” the poets -would call it, a thing just strong enough to turn -smoke or twist the feather which a wild duck -might detach from beneath his wing as he cleft -the air above—then look out, or rather look down, -cast the eye so much askant that it can catch a -glimpse of the top of the nose, and you will see a -ghostly sight.</p> - -<p>We have all heard of hard hearts, and stony -eyes, and marble foreheads, alabaster shoulders, -snowy necks, and firm-set lips, and all the long -array of silicious similitudes used to express the -various qualities of the human form divine; but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> -firmer, and colder, and whiter, and harder than -all stands forth prominently a frozen nose.</p> - -<p>A study of frozen noses would be interesting; -one could work out from it an essay on the -admirable fitness of things, and even history read -by the light of frozen noses might teach us new -theories. The Roman nose could not have stood -an arctic winter, hence the limits of the Roman -empire. The Esquimaux nose is admirably fitted -for the climate in which it breathes, hence the -limited nature it assumes.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_118" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Clearwater.—A bygone Ocean.—A Land of Lakes.—The -Athabasca River.—Who is he?—Chipewyan Indians.—Echo.—Major -succumbs at last.—Mal de Raquette.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">The</span> Clearwater, a river small in a land where -rivers are often a mile in width, meanders between -its lofty wooded hills; or rather one should say, -meanders in the deep valley which it has worn for -itself through countless ages.</p> - -<p>Ever since the beginning of the fur trade it -has been the sole route followed into the North. -More practicable routes undoubtedly exist, but -hitherto the Long Portage (a ridge dividing the -waters of the chain of lakes and rivers we have -lately passed from those streams which seek the -Arctic Ocean) and the Clearwater River have -formed as it were the gateway of the North.</p> - -<p>This Long Portage, under its various names of -La Loche and Methy, is not a bad position from -whence to take a bird’s-eye view of the Great -North.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span></p> - -<p>Once upon a time, how long ago one is afraid -to say, a great sea rolled over what is now the -central continent. From the Gulf of Mexico to -the Arctic Ocean, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence -to the base of the Rocky Mountains, this ocean -has left its trace. It had its shores, and to-day -these shores still show the trace of where the -restless waves threw their surge upon the earlier -earth. To the eye of the geologist the sea-shell, -high cast upon some mountain ridge, tells its -story of the sea as plainly as the tropic sea-shell, -held to the dreamer’s ear, whispers its low melody -of sounding billow.</p> - -<p>To the east of this ocean the old earth reared -its iron head in those grim masses which we name -Laurentian, and which, as though conscious of -their hoary age, seem to laugh at the labour of -the new comer, man.</p> - -<p>The waters went down, or the earth went up, -it little matters which; and the river systems of -the continent worked their ways into Mother -Ocean: the Mississippi south, the St. Lawrence -east, the Mackenzie north. But the old Laurentian -still remained, and to-day, grim, filled with wild -lakes, pine-clad, rugged, almost impassable it lies, -spread in savage sleep from Labrador to the Arctic -Ocean.</p> - -<p>At the Methy Portage we are on the western<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span> -boundary of this Laurentian rock; from here it -runs south-east to Canada, north to the Frozen -Ocean.</p> - -<p>It is of the region lying between this primary -formation and the Rocky Mountains, the region -once an ocean, of which we would speak.</p> - -<p>I have said in an earlier chapter that the -continent of British America, from the United -States’ boundary, slopes to the north-east, the -eastern slope terminates at this Portage la Loche, -and henceforth the only slope is to the north; -from here to the Frozen Sea, one thousand miles, -as wild swan flies, is one long and gradual descent. -Three rivers carry the waters of this slope into -the Arctic Ocean; the great Fish River of Sir -George Back, at the estuary of which the last -of Franklin’s gallant crew lay down to die; -the Coppermine of Samuel Hearne; and the -Mackenzie which tells its discoverer’s name. The -first two flow through the Barren Grounds, the -last drains by numerous tributaries, seventeen -hundred miles of the Rocky Mountains upon both -sides of that snow-capped range. All its principal -feeders rise beyond the mountains, cutting through -the range at right angles, through tremendous -valleys, the sides of which overhang the gloomy -waters.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span></p> - -<p>The Liard, the Peel, the Peace rivers, all have -their sources to the west of the Rocky Mountains. -Even the parent rill of the Great Athabasca is on -the Pacific side also. Nor is this mountain, thus -curiously rent in twain by large rivers, a mere -ridge, or lofty table-land; but huge and vast, -capped by eternal snow, it lifts its peaks full fifteen -thousand feet above the sea level.</p> - -<p>Many large lakes lie spread over this ancient -sea bottom; Lake Athabasca, Great Slave, and -Great Bear Lake continue across the continent, -that great Lacustrine line, which, with Winnipeg, -Superior, Huron, and Ontario, forms an aggregate -of water surface half as large as Europe.</p> - -<p>Of other lakes, the country is simply a vast network, -beyond all attempt at name or number; of -every size, from a hundred yards to a hundred -miles in length, they lie midst prairie, or midst -forest, lonely and silent, scarce known even to the -wild man’s ken.</p> - -<p>And now, having thus imperfectly tried to bring -to the reader’s mind a vision of this vast North, -let us descend from the height of land into the -deep valley of the Clearwater, and like it, hurry -onward to the Athabasca.</p> - -<p>Descending the many-curving Clearwater for -one day, we reached, on the last day of February,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span> -its junction with the Athabasca, a spot known as -the Forks of the Athabasca. The aspect of the -country had undergone a complete change; the -dwarf and ragged forest had given place to lofty -trees, and the white spruce from a trunk of eight -feet in circumference lifted its head fully one -hundred and fifty feet above the ground. Nor -was it only the aspect of the trees that might have -induced one to imagine himself in a land of plenty. -In the small fort at the Forks, luxuries unseen -during many a day met the eye; choice vegetables, -the produce of the garden; moose venison, and -better than all, the tender steak of the wood -buffalo, an animal now growing rare in the -North.</p> - -<p>There was salmon too, and pears and peaches; -but these latter luxuries I need hardly say were -not home produce; they came from the opposite -extremes of Quebec and California. Here, then, -in the midst of the wilderness was a veritable -Eden. Here was a place to cry Halt, to build -a hut, and pass the remainder of one’s life. No -more dog-driving, no more snow shoes, no -smoky camp, no aching feet, no call in midnight; -nothing but endless wood buffalo steaks, -fried onions, moose moofle, parsnips, fresh butter, -rest and sleep: alas! it might not be; nine hundred -miles yet lay between me and the Rocky Mountains;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span> -nine hundred miles had still to be travelled, -ere the snow had left bare the brown banks of the -Peace River.</p> - -<p>And now our course led straight to the north, -down the broad bed of the Athabasca. A river -high shored, and many islanded, with long reaches, -leagues in length, and lower banks thick wooded -with large forest trees.</p> - -<p>From bank to bank fully six hundred yards of -snow lay spread over the rough frozen surface; -and at times, where the prairie plateau approached -the river’s edge, black bitumen oozed out of the -clayey bank, and the scent of tar was strong upon -the frosty air.</p> - -<p>On Sunday, the 2nd of March, we remained -for the day in a wood of large pines and poplars. -Dogs and men enjoyed that day’s rest. Many -were footsore, some were sick, all were tired.</p> - -<p>“The Bheel is a black man, and much more -hairy; he carries archers in his hand, with these -he shoots you when he meets you; he throws -your body into a ditch: by this you will know -the Bheel.” Such, word for word, was the -written reply of a young Hindoo at an examination -of candidates for a Government Office in Bombay -a few years ago. The examiners had asked for a -description of the hill-tribe known as Bheels, and -this was the answer. It is not on record what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span> -number of marks the youthful Brahmin received -for the information thus lucidly conveyed, or -whether the examiners were desirous of making -further acquaintance with the Bheel, upon the -terms indicated in the concluding sentence; but, -for some reason or other, the first sight of a -veritable Chipewyan Indian brought to my mind -the foregoing outline of the Bheel, and I found -myself insensibly repeating, “The Chipewyan is -a red man, and much more hairy.” There I stopped, -for he did not carry archers in his hand, nor -proceed in the somewhat abrupt and discourteous -manner which characterized the conduct of the -Bheel. And here, perhaps, it will be necessary to -say a few words about the wild man who dwells -in this Northern Land.</p> - -<p>A great deal has been said and written about -the wild man of America. The white man during -many years has lectured upon him, written learned -essays upon him, phrenologically proved him this, -chronologically demonstrated him that, ethnologically -asserted him to be the tother! I am not sure -that the conchologists even have not thrown a -shell at him, and most clearly shown that he was -a conglomerate of this, that, and tother all combined. -They began to dissect him very early. -One Hugh Grotius had much to say about him -a long time ago. Another Jean de Leut also<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> -descanted upon him, and so far back as the year -of grace 1650, one Thorogood (what a glimpse -the date gives of the name and the name of the -date!) composed a godly treatise entitled “Jews in -America, or a probability that Americans are of that -race.” Perhaps, if good Master Thorogood was in -the flesh to-day he might, arguing from certain -little dealings in boundary cases, consequential -claims and so forth, prove incontestably that -modern American statesmen were of that race too. -But to proceed. This question of the red man’s -origin has not yet been solved; the doctors are -still disputing about him. One professor has -gotten hold of a skull delved from the presumed -site of ancient Atazlan, and by the most careful -measurements of the said skull has proceeded to -show that because one skull measures in circumference -the hundredth and seventy-seventh decimal -of an inch more than it ought, it must of necessity -be of the blackamoor type of headpiece.</p> - -<p>Another equally learned professor, possessed of -another equally curious skull (of course on shelf -not on shoulders), has unfortunately come to -conclusions directly opposite, and incontestably -proven from careful occipital measurements that -the type is Mongolian.</p> - -<p>While thus the doctors differ as to what he is, -or who he is, or whence he came, the farce of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span> -theory changes to the stern tragedy of fact; and -over the broad prairie, and upon the cloud-capped -mountain, and northwards in the gloomy pine-forest, -the red man withers and dies out before -our gaze: soon they will have nothing but the -skulls to lecture upon.</p> - -<p>From the Long Portage which we have but -lately crossed, to the barren shores where dwell -the Esquimaux of the coasts, a family of cognate -tribes inhabit the continent; from east to west -the limits of this race are even more extensive. -They are found at Churchill, on Hudson’s Bay, -and at Fort Simpson, on the rugged coast of -New Caledonia. But stranger still, far down in -Arizona and Mexico, even as far south as Nicaragua, -the guttural language of the Chipewyan -race is still heard, and the wild Navajo and fierce -Apache horseman of the Mexican plains are kindred -races with the distant fur-hunters of the -North. Of all the many ramifications of Indian -race, this is perhaps the most extraordinary. -Through what vicissitudes of war and time, an -offshoot from the shores of Athabasca wandered -down into Mexico, while a hundred fierce, foreign, -warlike tribes occupied the immense intervening -distance, is more than human conjecture can -determine.</p> - -<p>To the east of the Rocky Mountains these races<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span> -call themselves “Tinneh,” a name which signifies -“People,” with that sublimity of ignorance which -makes most savage people imagine themselves the -sole proprietors of the earth. Many subdivisions -exist among them; these are the Copper Indians, -and the Dog Ribs of the Barren Grounds; the -Loucheux or Kutchins, a fierce tribe on the Upper -Yukon; the Yellow Knives, Hares, Nehanies, -Sickanies, and Dahas of the Mountains and the -Mackenzie River; the Slaves of the Great Slave -Lake; the Chipewyans of Lake Athabasca, and -Portage la Loche, the Beavers of the Peace River.</p> - -<p>West of the Rocky Mountains, the Carriers, -still a branch of the Chipewyan stock, intermingle -with the numerous Atnah races of the -coast. On the North Saskatchewan, a small wild -tribe called the Surcees also springs from this -great family, and as we have already said, nearly -three thousand miles far down in the tropic plains -of Old Mexico, the harsh, stuttering “tch” -accent grates upon the ear. Spread over such a -vast extent of country it may be supposed they -vary much in physiognomy. Bravery in men -and beauty in women are said to go hand in -hand. Of the courage of the Chipewyan men -I shall say nothing; of the beauty of the -women I shall say something. To assert that -they are very plain would not be true; they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span> -are undeniably ugly. Some of the young ones -are very fat; all of the old ones are very thin. -Many of the faces are pear-shaped; narrow foreheads, -wide cheeks, small deep-set <em>fat</em> eyes. The -type is said to be Mongolian, and if so, the -Mongolians should change their type as soon as -possible.</p> - -<p>Several of the men wear sickly-looking moustaches, -and short, pointed chin tufts; the hair, -coarse and matted, is worn long. The children -look like rolls of fat, half melted on the outside. -Their general employment seems to be eating -moose meat, when they are not engaged in deriving -nourishment from the maternal bosom.</p> - -<p>This last occupation is protracted to an advanced -age of childhood, a circumstance which probably -arises from the fact that the new-born infant -receives no nourishment from its mother for four -days after its birth, in order that it shall in after -life be able to stand the pangs of hunger; but the -infant mind is no doubt conscious itself that it is -being robbed of its just rights, and endeavours to -make up for lost time by this postponement of -the age of weaning.</p> - -<p>This description does not hold good of the -Beaver Indians of Peace River; many of them, -men and women, are good-looking enough, but of -them more anon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span></p> - -<p>All these tribes are excellent hunters. The -moose in the south and wooded country, the -reindeer in the barren lands, ducks and geese in -vast numbers during the summer, and, generally -speaking, inexhaustible fish in the lakes yield them -their means of living. At times, one prodigious -feast; again, a period of starvation.</p> - -<p>For a time living on moose nose, or buffalo -tongue, or daintiest tit-bit of lake and forest; -and then glad to get a scrap of dry meat, or a -putrid fish to satisfy the cravings of their hunger. -While the meat lasts, life is a long dinner. The -child just able to crawl is seen with one hand -holding the end of a piece of meat, the other end -of which is held between the teeth; while the right -hand wields a knife a foot in length, with which -it saws steadily, between lips and fingers, until -the mouthful is detached. How the nose escapes -amputation is a mystery I have never heard explained.</p> - -<p>A few tents of Chipewyans were pitched along -the shores of the Athabasca River, when we -descended that stream. They had long been -expecting the return of my companion, to whose -arrival they looked as the means of supplying -them with percussion gun-caps, that article having -been almost exhausted among them.</p> - -<p>Knowing the hours at which he was wont to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span> -travel they had marked their camping-places on -the wooded shores, by planting a line of branches -in the snow across the river from one side to the -other. Thus even at night it would have been -impossible to pass their tents without noticing the -line of marks. The tents inside or out always -presented the same spectacle. Battered-looking -dogs of all ages surrounded the dwelling-place. -In the trees or on a stage, meat, snow-shoes, and -dog sleds, lay safe from canine ravage. Inside, -some ten or twelve people congregated around a -bright fire burning in the centre. The lodge was -usually large, requiring a dozen moose skins in its -construction. Quantities of moose or buffalo -meat, cut into slices, hung to dry in the upper -smoke. The inevitable puppy dog playing with a -stick; the fat, greasy child pinching the puppy -dog, drinking on all fours out of a tin pan, or -sawing away at a bit of meat; and the women, -old or young, cooking or nursing with a naïveté -which Rubens would have delighted in. All these -made up a Chipewyan “Interior,” such as it -appeared wherever we halted in our march, and -leaving our dogs upon the river, went up into the -tree-covered shore to where the tents stood -pitched.</p> - -<p>Anxious to learn the amount of game destroyed -by a good hunter in a season, I caused one of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span> -men to ask Chripo what he had killed. Chripo -counted for a time on his fingers, and then informed -us that since the snow fell he had killed -ten wood buffalo and twenty-five moose; in other -words, about seventeen thousand pounds of meat, -during four months. But of this a large quantity -went to the Hudson’s Bay Fort, at the Forks of -the Athabasca.</p> - -<p>The night of the 4th of March found us camped -in a high wood, at a point where a “cache” of -provisions had been made for ourselves and our -dogs. More than a fortnight earlier these provisions -had been sent from Fort Chipewyan, on -Lake Athabasca, and had been deposited in the -“cache” to await my companion’s arrival. A bag -of fish for the dogs, a small packet of letters, and -a bag of good things for the master swung from a -large tripod close to the shore. Some of these -things were very necessary, all were welcome, and -after a choice supper we turned in for the night.</p> - -<p>At four o’clock next morning we were off. My -friend led the march, and the day was to be a long -one. For four hours we held on, and by an hour -after sunrise we had reached a hut, where dwelt a -Chipewyan named Echo. The house was deserted, -and if anybody had felt inclined to ask, Where had -Echo gone to? Echo was not there to answer -where. Nobody, however, felt disposed to ask the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span> -question, but in lieu thereof dinner was being hastily -got ready in Echo’s abandoned fireplace. Dinner? -Yes, our <em>first</em> dinner took place usually between -seven and eight o’clock a.m. Nor were appetites -ever wanting at that hour either.</p> - -<p>Various mishaps, of broken snow-shoe and -broken-down dog, had retarded my progress on -this morning, and by the time the leading train -had reached Echo’s I was far behind. One of -my dogs had totally given out, not Cerf-vola, -but the Ile à la Crosse dog “Major.” Poor brute! -he had suddenly lain down, and refused to move. -He was a willing, good hauler, generally barking -vociferously whenever any impediment in front -detained the trains. I saw at once it was useless -to coerce him after his first break-down, so there -was nothing for it but to take him from the harness -and hurry on with the other three dogs as -best I could. Of the old train which had shared -my fortunes ever since that now distant day in the -storm, on the Red River steamboat, two yet -remained to me.</p> - -<p>Pony had succumbed at the Rivière la Loche, -and had been left behind at that station, to revel -in an abundance of white fish. The last sight I -got of him was suggestive of his character. He -was careering wildly across the river with a huge -stolen white fish in his mouth, pursued by two men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span> -and half-a-dozen dogs, vainly attempting to recapture -the purloined property. Another dog, named -“Sans Pareil,” had taken his place, and thus far -we had “marched on into the bowels of the land -without impediment.”</p> - -<p>From the day after my departure from Ile à la -Crosse I had regularly used snow-shoes, and now -I seldom sought the respite of the sled, but trudged -along behind the dogs. I well knew that it was -only by sparing my dogs thus that I could hope -to carry them the immense distance I purposed to -travel; and I was also aware that a time might -come when, in the many vicissitudes of snow travel, -I would be unable to walk, and have to depend -altogether on my train for means of movement. -So, as day by day the snow-shoe became easier, I -had tramped along, until now, on this 5th of March, -I could look back at nigh three hundred miles of -steady walking.</p> - -<p>Our meal at Echo’s over we set out again. Another -four hours passed without a halt, and another -sixteen or seventeen miles lay behind us. Then -came the second dinner—cakes, tea, and sweet -pemmican; and away we went once more upon -the river. The day was cold, but fine; the dogs -trotted well, and the pace was faster than before. -Two Indians had started ahead to hurry on to a -spot, indicated by my companion, where they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span> -were to make ready the camp, and await our -arrival.</p> - -<p>Night fell, and found us still upon the river. -A bright moon silvered the snow; we pushed -along, but the dogs were now tired, all, save my -train, which having only blankets, guns, and a few -articles to carry, went still as gamely as ever. At -sun-down our baggage sleds were far to the rear. -My companion driving a well-loaded sled led the -way, while I kept close behind him.</p> - -<p>For four hours after dark we held steadily on; -the night was still, but very cold; the moon showed -us the track; dogs and men seemed to go forward -from the mere impulse of progression. I had been -tired hours before, and had got over it; not half-tired, -but regularly weary; and yet somehow or -other the feeling of weariness had passed away, -and one stepped forward upon the snow-shoe by a -mechanical effort that seemed destitute of sense or -feeling.</p> - -<p>At last we left the river, and ascended a steep -bank to the left, passing into the shadow of gigantic -pines. Between their giant trunks the moonlight -slanted; and the snow, piled high on forest -wreck, glowed lustrous in the fretted light. A -couple of miles more brought us suddenly to the -welcome glare of firelight, and at ten o’clock at -night we reached the blazing camp. Eighteen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span> -hours earlier we had started for the day’s march, -and only during two hours had we halted on the -road. We had, in fact, marched steadily during -sixteen hours, twelve of which had been at rapid -pace. The distance run that day is unmeasured, -and is likely to remain so for many a day; but at -the most moderate estimate it would not have -been less than fifty-six miles. It was the longest -day’s march I ever made, and I had cause long to -remember it, for on arising at daybreak next morning -I was stiff with Mal de Raquette.</p> - -<p>In the North, Mal de Raquette or no Mal de -Raquette, one must march; sick or sore, or -blistered, the traveller must frequently still push -on. Where all is a wilderness, progression -frequently means preservation; and delay is -tantamount to death.</p> - -<p>In our case, however, no such necessity existed; -but as we were only some twenty-five miles -distant from the great central distributing point -of the Northern Fur Trade, it was advisable to -reach it without delay. Once again we set out: -debouching from the forest we entered a large -marsh. Soon a lake, with low-lying shores, spread -before us. Another marsh, another frozen river, -and at last, a vast lake opened out upon our gaze. -Islands, rocky, and clothed with pine-trees, rose -from the snowy surface. To the east, nothing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span> -but a vast expanse of ice-covered sea, with a -blue, cold sky-line; to the north, a shore of rocks -and hills, wind-swept, and part covered with -dwarf firs, and on the rising shore, the clustered -buildings of a large fort, with a red flag flying -above them in the cold north blast.</p> - -<p>The “lake” was Athabasca, the “clustered -buildings” Fort Chipewyan, and the Flag—well; -we all know it; but it is only when the wanderer’s -eye meets it in some lone spot like this that he -turns to it, as the emblem of a Home which -distance has shrined deeper in his heart.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_137" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>Lake Athabasca.—Northern Lights.—Chipewyan.—The real -Workers of the World.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Athabasca,</span> or more correctly “Arabascow,” -“The Meeting-place of many Waters,” is a large -lake. At this fort of Chipewyan we stand near -its western end. Two hundred miles away to -the east, its lonely waters still lave against the -granite rocks.</p> - -<p>Whatever may be the work to which he turns -hand or brain, an Indian seldom errs. If he -names a lake or fashions a piece of bark to sail its -waters, both will fit the work for which they were -intended.</p> - -<p>“The meeting-place of many waters” tells the -story of Athabasca. In its bosom many rivers -unite their currents; and from its north-western -rim pours the Slave River, the true Mackenzie. Its -first English discoverer called it the “Lake of the -Hills;” a more appropriate title would have been -“The Lake of the Winds,” for fierce and wild the -storms sweep over its waves.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span></p> - -<p>Over the Lake Athabasca the Northern Lights -hold their highest revels. They flash, and dance, -and stream, and intermingle, and wave together -their many colours like the shapes and hues of a -kaleidoscope. Sometimes the long columns of -light seem to rest upon the silent, frozen shores, -stretching out their rose-tipped tops to touch the -zenith; again the lines of light traverse the sky -from east to west as a hand might sweep the -chords of some vast harp, and from its touch -would flow light instead of music. So quickly -run the colours along these shafts, that the ear -listens instinctively for sound in the deep stillness -of the frozen solitude; but sound I have never -heard. Many a time I have listened breathless to -catch the faintest whisper of these wondrous -lightnings; they were mute as the waste that -lay around me.</p> - -<p>Figures convey but a poor idea of cold, yet they -are the only means we have, and by a comparison -of figures some persons, at least, will understand -the cold of an Athabascan winter. The citadel of -Quebec has the reputation of being a cold winter -residence; its mean temperature for the month of -January is 11° 7´ Fahr. The mean temperature of -the month of January, 1844, at Fort Chipewyan, -was 22° 74´, or nearly 30° colder, and during the -preceding month of December the wind blew with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span> -a total pressure of one thousand one hundred and -sixty pounds to the square foot.</p> - -<p>It is perhaps needless to say more about the -rigour of an Athabascan winter.</p> - -<p>As it is the “meeting-place of many waters” -so also is it the meeting-place of many systems. -Silurian and Devonian approach it from the -west. Laurentian still holds five-sixths of its -waters in the same grasp as when what is now -Athabasca lay a deep fiord along the ancient ocean -shore. The old rock caught it to his rough heart -then, and when in later ages the fickle waves -which so long had kissed his lips left him stern -and lonely, he still held the clear, cold lake to his -iron bosom.</p> - -<p>Athabasca may be said to mark also the limits -of some great divisions of the animal kingdom. -The reindeer and that most curious relic of an -older time, the musk ox, come down near its -north-eastern shores, for there that bleak region -known as the “Barren Grounds” is but a few miles -distant. These animals never pass to the southern -end of the lake; the Cariboo, or reindeer of the -woods, being a distinct species from that which -inhabits the treeless waste. The wood buffalo -and the moose are yet numerous on the north-west -and south-west shores: but of these things -we shall have more to say anon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span></p> - -<p>All through the summer, from early May to mid-October, -the shores of the lake swarm with wild -geese, and the twilight midsummer midnight is -filled with the harsh sounds of the cries of the -snow goose, or the “wavy” flying low over their -favourite waters.</p> - -<p>In early days Chipewyan was an important -centre of the fur trade, and in later times it has -been made the starting-point of many of the -exploratory parties to the northern coast. From -Old Fort Chipewyan Mackenzie set forth to -explore the great northern river, and to the same -place he returned when first of all men north of -the 40th parallel he had crossed in the summers of -1792–93 the continent to the Pacific Ocean.</p> - -<p>It was from New Fort Chipewyan that Simpson -set out to trace the coast-line of the Arctic -Ocean; and earlier than either, it was from Fond -du Lac, at the eastern end of Fort Athabasca, -that Samuel Hearne wandered forth to reach the -Arctic Sea.</p> - -<p>To-day it is useful to recall these stray items of -adventure from the past in which they lie buried. -It has been said by some one that a “nation cannot -be saved by a calculation;” neither can she be -made by one.</p> - -<p>If to-day we are what we are, it is because a -thousand men in bygone times did not stop to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span> -count the cost. The decline of a nation differs -from that of an individual in the first symptoms -of its decay. The heart of the nation goes first, -the extremities still remain vigorous. France, -with many a gallant soul striking hard for her in -the Carnatic or in Canada, sickens in the pomp and -luxury of Versailles, and has nothing to offer to -her heroes but forgetfulness, debt, or the rack. Her -colonial history was one long tissue of ingratitude.</p> - -<p>Biencourt, De Chastes, Varrene de la Verendrie, -or Lally might fight and toil and die, what cared -the selfish heart of old France? The order of St. -Louis long denied, and 40,000 livres of debt -rewarded the discovery of the Rocky Mountains. -Frenchmen gave to France a continent. France -thought little of the gift, and fate took it back -again. History sometimes repeats itself. There is -a younger if not a greater Britain waiting quietly -to reap the harvest of her mother’s mistakes.</p> - -<p>But to Chipewyan. It is emphatically a lonely -spot; in summer the cry of the wild bird keeps -time to the lapping of the wave on the rocky -shore, or the pine islands rustle in the western -breeze; nothing else moves over these 8000 square -miles of crystal water. Now and again at long -intervals the beautiful canoe of a Chipewyan -glides along the bay-indented shores, or crosses -some traverse in the open lake.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span></p> - -<p>When Samuel Hearne first looked upon the -“Arabascow,” buffalo were very numerous along -its southern shore, to-day they are scarce; all else -rests as then in untamed desolation. At times -this west end of the lake has been the scene of -strange excitements. Men came from afar and -pitched their tents awhile on these granite shores, -ere they struck deeper into the heart of the great -north. Mackenzie, Franklin, Back, Richardson, -Simpson, Rae, rested here; ere piercing further -into unknown wilds, they flew the red-cross flag -o’er seas and isles upon whose shores no human -foot had pressed a sand-print.</p> - -<p>Eight hundred thousand pounds sunk in the -Arctic Sea! will exclaim my calculating friend -behind the national counter; nearly a million gone -for ever! No, head cash-keeper, you are wrong. -That million of money will bear interest higher -than all your little speculations in times not far -remote, and in times lying deep in the misty -future. In hours when life and honour lie at -different sides of the “to do” or “not to do,” -men will go back to times when other men battling -with nature or with man, cast their vote on the -side of honour, and by the white light thrown into -the future from the great dead Past, they will -read their roads where many paths commingle.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_143" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>A Hudson’s Bay Fort.—It comes at last.—News from the -outside world.—Tame and wild Savages.—Lac Clair.—A -treacherous deed.—Harper.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">The</span> term “Fort” which so frequently occurs in -these pages may perhaps convey an erroneous -impression to the reader’s mind. An imposing -array of rampart and bastion, a loop-holed wall or -formidable fortalice may arise before his mind’s -eye as he reads the oft-recurring word. Built -generally upon the lower bank of a large river or -lake, but sometimes perched upon the loftier outer -bank, stands the Hudson’s Bay Fort. A square -palisade, ten to twenty feet high, surrounds the -buildings; in the prairie region this defence is -stout and lofty, but in the wooded country it is -frequently dispensed with altogether.</p> - -<p>Inside the stockade some half-dozen houses are -grouped together in square or oblong form. The -house of the Bourgeois and Clerks, the store<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span> -wherein are kept the blankets, coloured cloths, -guns, ammunition, bright handkerchiefs, ribbons, -beads, &c., the staple commodities of the Indian -trade; another store for furs and peltries, a -building from the beams of which hang myriads -of skins worth many a gold piece in the marts of -far-away London city;—martens and minks, and -dark otters, fishers and black foxes, to say -nothing of bears and beavers, and a host of less -valuable furs. Then came the houses of the -men.</p> - -<p>Lounging at the gate, or on the shore in front, -one sees a half-breed in tasselated cap, or a group -of Indians in blanket robes or dirty-white capôtes; -everybody is smoking; the pointed poles of a -wigwam or two rise on either side of the outer -palisades, and over all there is the tapering flag-staff. -A horse is in the distant river meadow. -Around the great silent hills stand bare, or fringed -with jagged pine tops, and some few hundred -yards away on either side, a rude cross or wooden -railing blown over by the tempest, discoloured by -rain or snow-drift, marks the lonely resting-place -of the dead.</p> - -<p>Wild, desolate and remote are these isolated -trading spots, yet it is difficult to describe the -feelings with which one beholds them across some -ice-bound lake, or silent river as the dog trains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span> -wind slowly amidst the snow. Coming in from -the wilderness, from the wrack of tempest, and -the bitter cold, wearied with long marches, footsore -or frozen, one looks upon the wooden house -as some palace of rest and contentment.</p> - -<p>I doubt if it be possible to know more acute -comfort, for its measure is exactly the measure of -that other extremity of discomfort which excessive -cold and hardship have carried with them. Nor -does that feeling of home and contentment lose -aught for want of a welcome at the threshold -of the lonely resting-place. Nothing is held too -good for the wayfarer; the best bed and the best -supper are his. He has, perhaps, brought letters -or messages from long absent friends, or he comes -with news of the outside world; but be he the -bearer of such things, or only the chance carrier -of his own fortunes, he is still a welcome visitor to -the Hudson’s Bay Fort.</p> - -<p>Three days passed away in rest, peace, and -plenty. It was nearing the time when another -start would be necessary, for after all, this Athabascan -Fort was scarce a half-way house in my -winter journey. The question of departure was -not of itself of consequence, but the prospect of -leaving for a long sojourn in deeper solitudes, -without one word of news from the outside world, -without that winter packet to which we had all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span> -looked so long, was something more than a mere -disappointment.</p> - -<p>All this time we had been travelling in advance -of the winter packet, and as our track left a -smooth road for whatever might succeed us, we -reckoned upon being overtaken at some point of -the journey by the faster travelling express. -Such had not been the case, and now three days -had passed since our arrival without a sign of an -in-coming dog-train darkening the expanse of the -frozen lake.</p> - -<p>The morning of the 9th of March, however, -brought a change. Far away in the hazy drift and -“poudre” which hung low upon the surface of the -lake, the figures of two men and one sled of dogs -became faintly visible. Was it only Antoine -Tarungeau, a solitary “Freeman” from the Quatre -Fourche, going like a good Christian to his prayers -at the French Mission? Or was it the much-wished-for -packet?</p> - -<p>It soon declared itself; the dogs were steering -for the fort, and not for the mission. Tarungeau -might be an indifferent church member, but had -the whole college of cardinals been lodged at -Chipewyan they must have rejoiced that it was -not Tarungeau going to mass, and that it was the -winter packet coming to the fort.</p> - -<p>What reading we had on that Sunday afternoon!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span> -News from the far-off busy world; letters from -the far-off quiet home; tidings of great men passed -away from the earth; glad news and sorry news, -borne through months of toil 1500 miles over the -winter waste.</p> - -<p>And now came a short busy time at the fort. A -redistribution of the packet had to be made. On -to the north went a train of dogs for the distant -Yukon; on to the west went a train of dogs for -the head of the Peace River. In three days more -I made ready to resume my journey up the Peace -River. Once more the sleds were packed, once -more the Untiring Cerf-vola took his place in -the leading harness, and the word “march” was -given.</p> - -<p>This time I was to be alone. My good friend, -whose unvarying kindness had made an acquaintanceship -of a few weeks ripen into a friendship -destined I trust to endure for many years, was no -longer to be my companion.</p> - -<p>He came, in company with another officer, some -miles of the way, to see me off; and then at the -Quatre Fourche we parted, he to return to his -lonely fort, I to follow across the wide-spreading -Lake Mamoway the long trail to the setting -sun.</p> - -<p>If the life of the wanderer possesses many -moments of keen enjoyment, so also has it its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span> -times of intense loneliness; times when no excitement -is near to raise the spirits, no toil to render -thought impossible; nothing but a dreary, hopeless -prospect of labour, which takes day after day -some little portion from that realm of space lying -before him, only to cast it to augment that other -dim land of separation which lies behind him.</p> - -<p>Honest Joe Gargery never with his blacksmith -hand nailed a sadder truth upon the wheel of time, -than when he defined life to be made up of -“partings welded together.” But in civilization -generally when we part we either look forward to -meeting again at some not remote period, or we -have so many varied occupations, or so many -friends around us, that if the partings are welded -together, so also are the meetings.</p> - -<p>In the lone spaces it is different. The endless -landscape, the monotony of slow travel, the dim -vision of what lies before, seen only in the light of -that other dim prospect lying behind; lakes, rivers, -plains, forests, all hushed in the savage sleep of -winter;—these things bring to the wanderer’s mind -a sense of loneliness almost as vast as the waste -which lies around him.</p> - -<p>On the evening of the 12th of March I camped -alone in the wilderness. Far as eye could reach, -on every side, there lay nothing but hard, drifted -snow, and from its surface a few scant willows<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span> -raised their dry leafless saplings. True, three or -four men were busy scraping the deep snow from the -lee side of some low willow bushes, but they were -alien in every thought and feeling; and we were -separated by a gulf impossible to bridge: so that I -was virtually alone. I will not say on whose side -the fault lay, and possibly the admission may only -prove a congeniality of feeling between myself and -my train; but, for all that, I felt a far stronger -tie of companionship with the dogs that drew my -load, than for the men with whom I now found -myself in company.</p> - -<p>They were by no means wild; far from it, they -were eminently tame. One of them was a -scoundrel of a very low type, as some of his actions -will hereafter show. In him the wild animal had -been long since destroyed, the tame brute had -taken its place.</p> - -<p>The man who had been my servant from the -Saskatchewan was a French half-breed; strong, -active, and handsome, he was still a sulky, good-for-nothing -fellow. One might as well have tried -to make friends with a fish to which one cast a -worm, as with this good-looking, good-for-nothing -man. He had depth sufficient to tell a lie which -might wear the semblance of truth for a day; and -cunning enough to cheat without being caught in -the actual fact. I think he was the most impudent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span> -liar I have ever met. The motive which had -induced him to accept service in this long journey -was, I believe, a domestic one. He had run away -with a young English half-breed girl, and then ran -away from her. If she had only known the object -of her affections as well as I did, she would have -regarded the last feat of activity as a far less serious -evil than the first.</p> - -<p>The third man was a Swampy Indian of the -class one frequently meets in the English-speaking -settlement on Red River. Taken by himself, he -was negatively good; but placed with others worse -than himself, he was positively bad. He was, -however, a fair traveller, and used his dogs with a -degree of care and attention seldom seen amongst -the half-breeds.</p> - -<p>Small wonder, then, that with these three worthies -who, though strangers, now met upon a base -of common rascality, that I should feel myself more -completely alone than if nothing but the waste had -spread around me. Full thirty days of travel must -elapse ere the mountains, that great break to which -I looked so long, should raise their snowy peaks -across my pathway.</p> - -<p>The lameness of the last day’s travel already -gave ominous symptoms of its presence. The -snow was deeper than I had yet seen it; heretofore, -at the longest, the forts lay within five days’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span> -journey of each other; now there was one gap in -which, from one post to the next, must, at the -shortest, be a twelve days’ journey.</p> - -<p>At dawn, on the 13th of March, we quitted our -burrow in the deep drift of the willow bushes, and -held our way across what was seemingly a shoreless -sea.</p> - -<p>The last sand ridge or island top of Lake -Athabasca had sunk beneath the horizon, and as -the sun came up, flashing coldly upon the level -desert of snow, there lay around us nought but -the dazzling surface of the frozen lake.</p> - -<p>Lac Clair, the scene of our present day’s journey, -is in reality an arm of the Athabasca. Nothing but -a formation of mud and drift, submerged at high -summer water, separated it from the larger lake; -but its shores vary much from those of its neighbour, -being everywhere low and marshy, lined with -scant willows and destitute of larger timber. Of -its south-western termination but little is known, -but it is said to extend in that direction from the -Athabasca for fully seventy miles into the Birch -Hills. Its breadth from north to south would be -about half that distance. It is subject to violent -winter storms, accompanied by dense drift; and -from the scarcity of wood along its shores, and the -absence of distinguishing landmarks, it is much -dreaded by the winter <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span></p> - -<p>The prevailing north-east wind of the Lake -Athabasca has in fact the full sweep of 250 miles -across Lac Clair. To lose one’s way upon it -would appear to be the first rule of travel amongst -the trip-men of Fort Chipewyan. The last adventure -of this kind which had taken place on -its dim expanse had nearly a tragic end.</p> - -<p>On the southern shore of the lake three moose -had been killed. When the tidings reached the -fort, two men and two sleds of dogs set off for the -“cache;” it was safely found, the meat packed -upon the sleds, and all made ready for the return. -Then came the usual storm: dense and dark the -fine snow (dry as dust under the biting cold) swept -the surface of the lake. The sun, which on one of -these “poudre” days in the North seems to exert -as much influence upon the war of cold and storm -as some good bishop in the Middle Ages was wont -to exercise over the belligerents at Cressy or -Poictiers, when, as it is stated, “He withdrew to -a neighbouring eminence, and there remained -during the combat;”—the sun, I say, for a time, -seemed to protest, by his presence, against the -whole thing, but then finding all protests equally -disregarded by the wind and cold, he muffled himself -up in the nearest cloud and went fast asleep -until the fight was over.</p> - -<p>For a time the men held their way across the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span> -lake; then the dogs became bewildered; the leading -driver turned to his companion, and telling -him to drive both trains, he strode on in front of -his dogs to give a “lead” in the storm.</p> - -<p>Driving two trains of loaded dogs is hard work; -the second driver could not keep up, and the man -in front deliberately increasing his pace walked -steadily away, leaving his comrade to the mercies -of cold and drift. He did this coward act with -the knowledge that his companion had only three -matches in his possession, he having induced him -to give up the rest to Indians whom they had -fallen in with.</p> - -<p>The man thus abandoned on the dreaded lake -was a young Hudson’s Bay clerk, by no means -habituated to the hardships of such a situation. -But it requires little previous experience to know -when one is lost. The dogs soon began to wander, -and finally headed for where their instinct told -them lay the shore. When they reached the shore -night had fallen, the wind had gone down, but -still the cold was intense; it was the close of -January, the coldest time of the year, when 80° -of frost is no unusual occurrence. At such a -time it was no easy matter to light a fire; the -numbed, senseless hands cannot find strength to -strike a match; and many a time had I seen a -hardy <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> fail in his first attempts with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span> -driest wood, and with full daylight to assist -him.</p> - -<p>But what chance had the inexperienced hand, -with scant willow sticks for fuel and darkness to -deceive him? His wood was partly green, and -one by one his three matches flashed, flickered, -and died out.</p> - -<p>No fire, no food—alone somewhere on Lac -Clair in 40° to 50° below zero! It was an ugly -prospect. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he got -a dog at his feet and lay down. With daylight -he was up, and putting the dogs into harness -set out; but he knew not the landmarks, and -he steered heedless of direction. He came at -last to a spring of open water; it was highly -charged with sulphur, and hence its resistance to -the cold of winter. Though it was nauseous to -the taste he drank deeply of it; no other spring -of water existed in all the wide circle of the lake.</p> - -<p>For four days the wretched man remained at -this place; his sole hope lay in the chance that -men would come to look for him from the fort, -but ere that would come about a single night -might suffice to terminate his existence.</p> - -<p>These bad nights are bad enough when we have -all that food and fuel can do. Men lose their -fingers or their toes sometimes in the hours of -wintry daylight, but here fire there was none,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span> -and food without fire was not to be had. The -meat upon the sled had frozen almost as solid as -the stone of a quarry.</p> - -<p>He still hoped for relief, but had he known of -the conduct of the ruffian whose desertion had -thus brought him to this misery his hope would -have been a faint one.</p> - -<p>On the day following his desertion, the deserter -appeared at the Quatre Fourche; he pretended -to be astounded that his comrade had not turned -up. On the same evening he reached Fort Chipewyan: -he told a plausible story of having left his -companion smoking near a certain spot on the -north side of the lake; on his return to the spot -the sleds were gone, and he at once concluded -they had headed for home. Such was his tale.</p> - -<p>A search expedition was at once despatched, but -acting under the direction of the scoundrel Harper -no trace of the lost man could be found.</p> - -<p>No wonder! for the scene of his desertion lay -many miles away to the south, but the villain wished -to give time for cold and hunger to do their work; -not for any gratification of hatred or revenge -towards his late comrade, but simply because -“dead men tell no tales.” Upon the return of -this unsuccessful expedition suspicions were -aroused; the man was besought to tell the truth, -all would be forgiven him if he now confessed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span> -where it was he had left his companion. He still -however asserted that he had left him on the shore -of the lake at a spot marked by a single willow. -Again a search party goes out, but this time under -experienced leadership, and totally disregarding -the story of the deserter.</p> - -<p>Far down, near the south shore of the lake, the -quick eye of a French half-breed caught the faint -print of a snow-shoe edge on the hard drifted -surface; he followed the clue—another print—and -then another;—soon the shore was reached, and -the impress of a human form found among the -willows.</p> - -<p>Never doubting for an instant that the next -sight would be the frozen body of the man they -sought for (since the fireless camping-place showed -that he was without the means of making a fire), -the searchers went along. They reached the -Sulphur Spring, and there, cold, hungry, but safe, -sat the object of their search. Five days had -passed, yet he had not frozen!</p> - -<p>If I wished to learn more of the deserter Harper, -I had ample opportunity of doing so. His villainous -face formed a prominent object at my camp -fire. He was now the packet bearer to Fort -Vermilion on the Peace River; he was one of the -worthies I have already spoken of.</p> - -<p>We crossed Lac Clair at a rapid pace, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span> -reached at dusk the north-western shore; of course -we had lost ourselves; but the evening was calm -and clear, and the error was set right by a two-hours’ -additional march.</p> - -<p>It was piercingly cold when, some time after -dark, the shore was gained; but wood was found -by the yellow light of a full moon, and a good -camp made on a swampy island. From here our -path lay through the woods and ridges nearly due -west again.</p> - -<p>On the fourth day after leaving Fort Chipewyan -we gained a sandy ridge covered with cypress, -and saw beneath us a far-stretching valley; beyond, -in the distance to the north and west, the blue -ridges of the Cariboo Mountains closed the -prospect. In the valley a broad river lay in long -sweeping curves from west to east.</p> - -<p>We were on the banks of the Peace River.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_158" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Peace River.—Volcanos.—M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr.—Half -a loaf is better than no bread.—An oasis in the desert.—Tecumseh -and Black Hawk.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">It</span> is possible that the majority of my readers have -never heard of the Peace River. The British -empire is a large one, and Britons can get on very -well without knowing much of any river, excepting -perhaps the Thames, a knowledge of which, until -lately, Londoners easily obtained by the simple -process of smelling. Britannia it is well known -rules the waves, and it would be ridiculous to -expect rulers to bother themselves much about -the things which they rule. Perchance, in a score of -years or so, when our lively cousins bring forth -their little Alaska Boundary question, as they have -already brought forth their Oregon, Maine, and -San Juan boundary questions, we may pay the -Emperor of Morocco, or some equally enlightened -potentate, the compliment of asking him to tell us -whether the Peace River has always been a portion -of the British empire? or whether we knew the -meaning of our own language when we framed -the treaty of 1825? Until then, the Peace River -may rest in the limbo of obscurity; and in any -case, no matter who should claim it, its very name -must indicate that it was never considered worth -fighting about.</p> - -<div id="i_158" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_158.jpg" width="2556" height="1577" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE VALLEY OF THE PEACE RIVER.</div></div> - -<p>Nevertheless the Peace River is a large stream -of water, and some time or other may be worth -fighting for too. Meantime we will have something -to say about it.</p> - -<p>Like most of the streams which form the headwaters -of the great Mackenzie River system, the -Peace River has its sources west of the Chipewyan -or Rocky Mountains. Its principal branch springs -from a wild region called the Stickeen, an alpine -land almost wholly unknown. There at a presumed -elevation of 6000 feet above the sea level, amidst -a vast variety of mountain peaks, the infant river -issues from a lake to begin its long voyage of -2500 miles to the Arctic Sea.</p> - -<p>This region is the birthplace of many rivers, -the Yukon, the Liard, the Peace River, and -countless streams issue from this impenetrable -fastness. Situated close to the Pacific shore, at -their source, these rivers nevertheless seek far -distant oceans. A huge barrier rises between -them and the nearest coast. The loftiest range<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span> -of mountains in North America here finds its -culminating point; the coast or cascade range -shoots up its volcanic peaks to nigh 18,000 feet -above the neighbouring waves. Mounts Cri-Hon -and St. Elias cast their crimson greeting far over -the gloomy sea, and Ilyamna and Island Corovin -catch up the flames to fling them further to Kamchatka’s -fire-bound coast.</p> - -<p>The Old World and the New clasp hands of fire -across the gloomy Northern Sea; and amidst ice -and flame Asia and America look upon each -other.</p> - -<p>Through 300 miles of mountain the Peace -River takes its course, countless creeks and rivers -seek its waters; 200 miles from its source it -cleaves the main Rocky Mountain chain through -a chasm whose straight, steep cliffs frown down -on the black water through 6000 feet of dizzy -verge. Then it curves into the old ocean bed, of -which we have already spoken, and for 500 miles -it flows in a deep, narrow valley, from 700 to 800 -feet below the level of the surrounding plateau. -Then it reaches a lower level, the banks become -of moderate elevation, the country is densely -wooded, the large river winds in serpentine bends -through an alluvial valley; the current once so -strong becomes sluggish, until at last it pours -itself through a delta of low-lying drift into the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span> -Slave River, and its long course of 1100 miles is -ended.</p> - -<p>For 900 miles only two interruptions break the -even flow of its waters. A ridge of limestone -underlies the whole bed of the river at a point -some 250 miles from its mouth, causing a fall of -eight feet with a short rapid above it. The other -obstacle is the mountain cañon on the outer and -lower range of the Rocky Mountains, where a -portage of twelve miles is necessary.</p> - -<p>In its course through the main chain of the -Rocky Mountains no break occurs, the current -runs silently under the immense precipice as -though it fears to awaken even by a ripple the -sleeping giant at whose feet it creeps.</p> - -<p>Still keeping west, we began to ascend the -Peace River; we had struck its banks more than -100 miles above its delta, by making this direct -line across Lac Clair and the intervening -ridges.</p> - -<p>Peace River does not debouch into Lake Athabasca, -but as we have said into the Slave River -some twenty miles below the lake; at high water, -however, it communicates with Athabasca through -the canal-like channel of the Quatre Fourche, and -when water is low in Peace River, Athabasca -repays the gift by sending back through the same -channel a portion of her surplus tide.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span></p> - -<p>Since leaving Lac Clair I had endured no little -misery; the effects of that long day’s travel from -the river Athabasca had from the outset been -apparent, and each day now further increased -them. The muscles of ancles and instep had -become painfully inflamed, to raise the snow-shoe -from the ground was frequently no easy matter, -and at last every step was taken in pain. I could -not lie upon my sled because the ground was -rough and broken, and the sled upset at every -hill side into the soft snow; besides there was the -fact that the hills were short and steep, and dogs -could not easily have dragged me to the summit. -There was nothing for me but to tramp on in -spite of aching ancles.</p> - -<p>At the camp I tried my remedies, but all were -useless. From pain-killer, moose fat, laudanum -and porpoise oil I concocted a mixture, which I -feel convinced contains a vast fortune for any -enterprising professor in the next century, and -which even in these infant ages of “puffing” -might still be made to realize some few millions -of dollars; but nevertheless, my poor puffed foot -resisted every attempt to reduce it to symmetry, -or what was more important, to induce it to resume -work.</p> - -<p>That sixteen-hour day had inflamed its worst -passions, and it had struck for an “eight-hour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span> -movement.” One can afford to laugh over it all -now, but then it was gloomy work enough; to -make one step off the old hidden dog-track of -the early winter was to sink instantly into the -soft snow to the depth of three or four feet, and -when we camped at night on the wooded shore, -our blankets were laid in a deep furrow between -lofty snow walls, which it had taken us a full hour -to scoop out. At last, after six days of weary -travel through ridge and along river reach, we -drew near a house.</p> - -<p>Where the little stream called the Red River -enters from the south the wide channel of the -Peace River, there stands a small Hudson’s Bay -post. Here, on the evening of the 17th of March, -we put in for the night. At this solitary post -dwelt M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr; an old and -faithful follower of the Hudson’s Bay Company. -When the powerful North-West Fur Company -became merged into the wealthier but less enterprising -corporation of the Hudson’s Bay, they -left behind them in the North a race of faithful -servitors—men drawn in early life from the best -rural <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">habitans</i> of Lower Canada—men worthy of -that old France from which they sprung, a race -now almost extinct in the north, as indeed it is -almost all the world over. What we call “the -spirit of the age” is against it; faithful service to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span> -powers of earth, or even to those of Heaven, not -being included in the catalogue of virtues taught -in the big school of modern democracy.</p> - -<p>From one of this old class of French Canadians, -M. Jean Batiste St. Cyr was descended.</p> - -<p>Weary limbs and aching ancles pleaded for -delay at this little post, but advancing spring, -and still more the repeated assaults of my servant -and his comrades upon my stock of luxuries, -urged movement as the only means of saving -some little portion of those good things put -away for me by my kind host at Chipewyan. -It seems positively ridiculous now, how one -could regard the possession of flour and sugar, -of sweet cake and sweet pemmican, as some of -the most essential requisites of life. And yet so it -was. With the grocer in the neighbouring street, -and the baker round the corner, we can afford to -look upon flour and sugar as very common-place -articles indeed; but if any person wishes to arrive -at a correct notion of their true value in the -philosophy of life let him eliminate them from his -daily bill of fare, and restrict himself solely to -moose meat, grease, and milkless tea. For a day -or two he will get on well enough, then he will -begin to ponder long upon bread, cakes, and other -kindred subjects; until day by day he learns to -long for bread, then the Bath buns of his earlier<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span> -years will float in enchanting visions before him; -and like Clive at the recollection of that treasure-chamber -in the Moorshedabad Palace, he will -marvel at the moderation which left untouched a -single cake upon that wondrous counter.</p> - -<p>It is not difficult to understand the feelings -which influenced a distant northern Missionary, -when upon his return to semi-civilization, his -friends having prepared a feast to bid him welcome, -he asked them to give him bread and nothing else. -He had been without it for years, and his mind -had learned to hunger for it more than the body.</p> - -<p>My servitor, not content with living as his -master lived, was helping the other rascals to the -precious fare. English half-breed, French ditto, -and full Christian Swampy had apparently -formed an offensive and defensive alliance upon -the basis of a common rascality, Article I. of the -treaty having reference to the furtive partition of -my best white sugar, flour, and Souchong tea; -things which, when they have to be “portaged” -far on men’s shoulders in a savage land, are not -usually deemed fitted for savage stomachs too.</p> - -<p>One night’s delay, and again we were on the endless -trail; on along the great silent river, between -the rigid bordering pines, amidst the diamond-shaped -islands where the snow lay deep and soft in -“shnay” and “batture,” on out into the long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span> -reaches where the wild March winds swept the river -bed, and wrapt isle and shore in clouds of drift.</p> - -<p>On the evening of the 19th of March our party -drew near a lonely post, which, from the colour of -the waters in the neighbouring stream, bears the -name of Fort Vermilion. The stormy weather had -sunk to calm; the blue sky lay over mingled -forest and prairie; far off to the north and south -rose the dark outlines of the Reindeer and Buffalo -Mountains; while coming from the sunset and -vanishing into the east, the great silent river lay -prone amidst the wilderness of snow.</p> - -<p>A gladsome sight was the little fort, with smoke -curling from its snow-laden roof, its cattle standing -deep in comfortable straw-yard, and its master -at the open gateway, waiting to welcome me to -his home: pleasant to any traveller in the wilderness, -but doubly so to me, whose every step was -now taken in the dull toil of unremitting pain.</p> - -<p>Physicians have termed that fellow-feeling which -the hand sometimes evinces for the hand, and the -eye for the eye, by the name of “sympathy.” It -is unfortunate that these ebullitions of affection -which the dual members of our bodies manifest -towards each other, should always result in doubling -the amount of pain and inconvenience suffered by -the remainder of the human frame. For a day or -two past my right foot had shown symptoms of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span> -sharing the sorrows of its fellow-labourer; and -however gratifying this proof of good feeling -should have been, it was nevertheless accompanied -by such an increase of torture that one could not -help wishing for more callous conduct in the -presence of Mal de Raquette.</p> - -<p>A day’s journey north of the Peace River at -Fort Vermilion, a long line of hills approaching -the altitude of a mountain range stretches from -east to west. At the same distance south lies -another range of similar elevation. The northern -range bears the name of the Reindeer; the -southern one that of the Buffalo Mountains. These -names nearly mark the two great divisions of the -animal kingdom of Northern America.</p> - -<p>It is singular how closely the habits of those -two widely differing animals, the reindeer and the -buffalo, approximate to each other. Each have -their treeless prairie, but seek the woods in winter; -each have their woodland species; each separate -when the time comes to bring forth their young; -each mass together in their annual migrations. -Upon both the wild man preys in unending hostility. -When the long days of the Arctic summer begin to -shine over the wild region of the Barren Grounds, -the reindeer set forth for the low shores of the -Northern Ocean; in the lonely wilds whose shores -look out on the Archipelago where once the ships<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span> -of England’s explorers struggled midst floe and -pack, and hopeless iceberg, the herds spend the -fleeting summer season, subsisting on the short -grass, which for a few weeks changes these cold, -grey shores to softer green.</p> - -<p>With the approach of autumn the bands turn -south again, and uniting upon the borders of the -barren grounds, spend the winter in the forests -which fringe the shores of the Bear, Great Slave, -and Athabascan Lakes. Thousands are killed by -the Indians on this homeward journey; waylaid -in the passes which they usually follow, they fall -easy prey to Dog-rib and Yellow-knife and Chipewyan -hunter; and in years of plenty the forts of -the extreme north count by thousands the fat -sides of Cariboo, piled high in their provision -stores.</p> - -<p>But although the hills to the north and south of -Vermilion bore the names of Reindeer and Buffalo, -upon neither of these animals did the fort depend -for its subsistence. The Peace River is the land -of the moose; here this ungainly and most wary -animal has made his home, and winter and -summer, hunter and trader, along the whole -length of 900 miles, between the Peace and Athabasca, -live upon his delicious venison.</p> - -<p>Two days passed away at Fort Vermilion; outside -the March wind blew in bitter storm, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span> -drift piled high around wall and palisade. But -within there was rest and quiet, and many an -anecdote of time long passed in the Wild North -Land.</p> - -<p>Here, at this post of Vermilion, an old veteran -spent the winter of his life; and from his memory -the scenes of earlier days came forth to interest -the chance wanderer, whose footsteps had led him -to this lonely post. Few could tell the story of -these solitudes better than this veteran pensioner. -He had come to these wilds while the century was -yet in its teens. He had seen Tecumseh in his -glory, and Black Hawk marshal his Sauk warriors, -where now the river shores of Illinois wave in long -lines of yellow corn. He had spoken with men -who had seen the gallant La Perouse in Hudson’s -Bay, when, for the last time in History, France -flew the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">fleur-de-lis</i> above the ramparts of an -English fort in this northern land.</p> - -<p>The veteran explorers of the Great North had -been familiar to his earlier days, and he could -speak of Mackenzie and Frazer and Thompson, -Harmon and Henry, as men whom he had looked -on in his boyhood.</p> - -<p>For me these glimpses of the bygone time had a -strange charm. This mighty solitude, whose vastness -had worn its way into my mind; these -leagues and leagues of straight, tall pines, whose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span> -gloomy moan seemed the voice of 3000 miles of -wilderness; these rivers so hushed and silent, -save when the night owl hooted through the -twilight; all this sense of immensity was so impressed -on the imagination by recent travel, that -it heightened the rough colouring of the tale -which linked this shadowy land of the present with -the still more shadowy region of the past.</p> - -<p>Perhaps at another time, when I too shall rest -from travel, it will be my task to tell the story of -these dauntless men; but now, when many a -weary mile lies before me, it is time to hold westward -still along the great Unchagah.</p> - -<p>The untiring train was once again put into the -moose-skin harness, after another night of wild -storm and blinding drift; and with crack of whip -and call to dog, Vermilion soon lay in the waste -behind me.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_171" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Buffalo Hills.—A fatal Quarrel.—The exiled Beavers.—“At-tal-loo” -deplores his wives.—A Cree Interior.—An -attractive Camp.—I camp alone.—Cerf-vola without a -Supper.—The Recreants return.—Dunvegan.—A Wolf-hunt.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">A long</span> distance, destitute of fort or post, had now -to be passed. For fully 300 miles above Vermilion, -no sign of life but the wild man and his -prey (the former scant enough) are to be found -along the shores of the Peace River.</p> - -<p>The old fort known as Dunvegan lies twelve long -winter days’ travel to the south-west, and to reach -it even in that time requires sustained and arduous -exertion.</p> - -<p>For 200 miles above Vermilion the course of -the Peace River is north-west; it winds in long, -serpentine curves between banks which gradually -become more lofty as the traveller ascends the -stream. To cut the long curve to the south by an -overland portage now became our work; and for -three days we followed a trail through mingled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span> -prairie and forest-land, all lying deep in snow. -Four trains of dogs now formed our line. An -Ojibbeway, named “White Bear,” led the advance, -and the trains took in turn the work of breaking -the road after him.</p> - -<p>Mal de Raquette had at last proved more than -a match for me, and walking had become impossible; -but the trains returning to Dunvegan were -lightly loaded, and as the officer at Vermilion -had arranged that the various dogs should take -their turn in hauling my cariole, I had a fresh -train each day, and thus Cerf-vola and his -company obtained a two days’ respite from their -toil.</p> - -<p>The old dog was as game as when I had first -started, but the temporary change of masters -necessitated by our new arrangements seemed to -puzzle him not a little; and many a time his head -would turn round to steal a furtive look at the -new driver, who, “filled with strange oaths,” now -ran behind his cariole. Our trail led towards the -foot of the Buffalo Hills. I was now in the country -of the Beaver Indians, a branch of the great -Chipewyan race, a tribe once numerous on the -river which bears its present name of Peace from -the stubborn resistance offered by them to the -all-conquering Crees—a resistance which induced -that warlike tribe to make peace on the banks of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span> -the river, and to leave at rest the beaver-hunters -of the Unchagah.</p> - -<p>Since that time, though far removed from the -white settler, lying remote from the faintest echo -of civilization, this tribe of Beaver Indians has -steadily decreased; and to-day, in the whole -length of 900 miles from beyond the mountains to -the Lake Athabasca, scarce 200 families lie scattered -over the high prairies and undulating forest -belts of the Peace River. Now they live in peace -with all men, but once it was a different matter; the -Crees were not their only enemies, their Chipewyan -cousins warred upon them; and once upon a -time a fierce commotion raged amongst their own -tribe.</p> - -<p>One day a young chief shot his arrow through -a dog belonging to another brave. The brave -revenged the death of his dog, and instantly a -hundred bows were drawn. Ere night had fallen -some eighty warriors lay dead around the camp, -the pine woods rang with the lamentations of the -women, the tribe had lost its bravest men. There -was a temporary truce—the friends of the chief -whose arrow had killed the dog yet numbered -some sixty people—it was agreed that they should -separate from the tribe and seek their fortune in -the vast wilderness lying to the south.</p> - -<p>In the night they commenced their march;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span> -sullenly their brethren saw them depart never to -return. They went their way by the shores of -the Lesser Slave Lake, towards the great plains -which were said to lie far southward by the banks -of the swift-rolling Saskatchewan.</p> - -<p>The tribe of Beavers never saw again this exiled -band, but a hundred years later a Beaver Indian, -who followed the fortunes of a white fur-hunter, -found himself in one of the forts of the Saskatchewan. -Strange Indians were camped around the -palisades, they were portions of the great Blackfeet -tribe whose hunting-grounds lay south of the -Saskatchewan; among them were a few braves -who, when they conversed together, spoke a -language different from the other Blackfeet; in -this language the Beaver Indian recognized his -own tongue.</p> - -<p>The fortunes of the exiled branch were then -traced, they had reached the great plains, the -Blackfeet had protected them, and they had joined -the tribe as allies in war against Crees or Assineboines. -To-day the Surcees still speak the -guttural language of the Chipewyan. Notorious -among the wild horse-raiders of the prairies, -they outdo even the Blackfeet in audacious -plundering; and although the parent stock on the -Peace River are quiet and harmless, the offshoot -race has long been a terror over the prairies of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span> -the south. No men in this land of hunters hunt -better than the Beavers. It is not uncommon for -a single Indian to render from his winter trapping -200 marten skins, and not less than 20,000 beavers -are annually killed by the tribe on the waters of -the Peace River.</p> - -<p>On the morning of the third day after leaving -Vermilion we fell in with a band of Beavers. -Five wigwams stood pitched upon a pretty rising -knoll, backed by pine woods, which skirted the -banks of the stream, upon the channel of which -the lodges of the animal beaver rose cone-like above -the snow.</p> - -<p>When we reached the camp, “At-tal-loo,” the -chief, came forth. A stranger was a rare sight; -and “At-tal-loo” was bound to make a speech; -three of his warriors, half a dozen children, and a -few women filled up the background. Leaning -upon a long single-barrelled gun “At-tal-loo” -began.</p> - -<p>The mayor and corporation of that thriving -borough of Porkingham could not have been more -solicitous to interrupt a royal progress to the north, -than was this Beaver Indian anxious to address -the traveller; but there was this difference between -them, whereas Mayor Tomkins had chiefly in view -the excellent opportunity of hearing his own voice, -utterly unmindful of what a horrid bore he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span> -making himself to his sovereign, “At-tal-loo” -had in view more practical results: his frequent -iteration of the word “tea,” in his guttural -harangue, told at once the story of his <span class="locked">wants:—</span></p> - -<p>“This winter had been a severe one; death had -struck heavily into the tribe; in these three wigwams -six women had died. It was true each brave -still had three or four wives left, but moose were -plenty, and a man with six helpmates could be -rich in dry meat and moose leather. Tea was the -pressing want. Without tea the meat of the moose -was insipid; without tea and tobacco the loss of -even the fifth or sixth rib became a serious affair.”</p> - -<p>I endeavoured to find out the cause of this mortality -among the poor hunters, and it was not -far to seek. Constitutions enfeebled by close -intermarriage, and by the hardships attending -upon wild life in these northern regions, were fast -wearing out. At the present rate of mortality the -tribe of the Beavers will soon be extinct, and with -them will have disappeared the best and the simplest -of the nomad tribes of the north.</p> - -<p>“At-tal-loo” was made happy with tea and -tobacco, and we went our way. Another doughty -chief, named “Twa-poos,” probably also regarded -tea as the elixir of life, and the true source of -happiness; but as my servitor still continued to -regard my stock of the luxury as a very excellent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span> -medium for the accumulation of stray marten skins -for his own benefit, it was perhaps as well that I -should only know “Twa-poos” through the channel -of hearsay.</p> - -<p>On the morning of the 25th of March we emerged -from the tortuous little Buffalo River upon the -majestic channel of the Peace. Its banks were -now deeply furrowed beneath the prairie level, its -broad surface rolled away to the south-west, 500 -yards from shore to shore. The afternoon came -forth bright and warm; from a high ridge on the -left shore a far-stretching view lay rolled before -us—the Eagle Hills, the glistening river, the wide -expanse of dark forest and white prairie; and -above, a sky which had caught the hue and touch -of spring, while winter still stood intrenched on -plain and river.</p> - -<p>Late that evening we reached the hut of a Cree -Indian. A snow-storm closed the twilight, and all -sought shelter in the house: it was eight feet by -twelve, in superficial size, yet nineteen persons -lay down to rest in it, a Cree and his wife, an -Assineboine and his wife, eight or ten children, -and any number of Swampy, Ojibbeway, and half-breeds. -Whenever the creaky door opened, a -dozen dogs found ingress, and dodged under and -over the men, women, and children in hopeless -confusion.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span></p> - -<p>The Assineboine squaw seemed to devote all -her energies to the expulsion of the intruders; -the infants rolled over the puppy dogs, the puppy -dogs scrambled over the infants, and outside in -the snow and on the low roof Cerf-vola and his -friends did battle with a host of Indian dogs. So -the night passed away. Next morning there was -no track. We waded deep in the snow, and -made but slow progress. Things had reached a -climax with my crew; they had apparently made -up their minds to make a long, slow journey. -They wanted to camp at any Indian lodge they -saw, to start late and to camp early, to eat, -smoke, and talk, to do everything in fact but -travel.</p> - -<p>I was still nearly 150 miles from Dunvegan, -and as much more from that mountain range -whose defiles I hoped to reach ere the ice road on -which I travelled had turned to a rushing stream. -Already the sun shone strong in the early afternoon, -and the surface snow grew moist under his -warm rays, and here were my men ready to seek -any excuse for loitering on the way.</p> - -<p>About noon one day we reached a camp of -Crees on the south shore of the river. Moose-meat -was getting scarce, so I asked my yellow -rascal to procure some tit-bits from the camp -in exchange for tea. The whole party at once<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span> -vanished into the tents, while I remained with the -dogs upon the river. Presently my friend reappeared; -he “could only get a rib-piece or a -tough leg.” “Then don’t take them,” I said. I -saw the rascal was at his old work, so taking -some tea and tobacco, I went up myself to the -tents; meantime the men, women, and children -had all come out to the shore. I held up the tea -and pointed to the moose-meat; in an instant the -scene changed—briskets, tongues, and moose-noses -were brought out, and I could have loaded -my dogs with tit-bits had I wished; still I pretended -to find another motive for my henchman’s -conduct. “See,” I said to him, “I make a better -trader with Indians than you do. They would -only give you the tough bits; I can get noses -enough to load my dogs with.”</p> - -<p>But the camp possessed an attraction still -more enticing; early that morning I had observed -the Indians and half-breeds arraying themselves -in their gayest trappings. The half-breed usually -in dressing himself devotes the largest share of -attention to the decoration of his legs; beads, -buckles, and embroidered ribbons flutter from his -leggings, and his garters are resplendent with -coloured worsted or porcupine-quill work.</p> - -<p>These items of finery had all been donned this -morning in camp, the long hair had been carefully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span> -smeared with bear’s fat, and then I had not long -to wait for an explanation of all this adornment. -In one of the three Cree tents there dwelt two -good-looking squaws; we entered this tent, the -mats were unrolled, the fire replenished, and the -squaws set to work to cook a moose nose and -tongue for my dinner. Dinner over, the difficulty -began; the quarters were excellent in the estimation -of my men. It would be the wildest insanity -to think of quitting such a paradise of love -and food under at least a twenty-four hours’ -delay.</p> - -<p>So they suddenly announced their intention of -“bideing a wee.” I endeavoured to expostulate, -I spoke of the lateness of the season, the distance -I had yet to travel, the necessity of bringing to -Dunvegan the train of dogs destined for that post -at the earliest period; all was of no avail. Their -snow-shoes were broken and they must wait. -Very good; put my four dogs into harness, and -I will go on alone. So the dogs were put in -harness, and taking with me my most lootable -effects, I set out alone into the wilderness.</p> - -<p>It still wanted some four hours of sunset when -I left the Indian lodges on the south shore, and -held my way along the far-reaching river.</p> - -<p>My poor old dog, after a few glances back to -see why he should be alone, settled himself to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span> -work, and despite a lameness, the result of long -travel, he led the advance so gamely that when -night fell some dozen miles lay between us and -the Cree lodges.</p> - -<div id="i_181" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i_181.jpg" width="1656" height="2552" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS.</div></div> - -<p>At the foot of a high ridge whose summit still -caught the glow from the low-set sun, while the -river valley grew dark in the twilight, I turned -the dogs towards the south shore, and looked -about for a camping-place. The lower bank -sloped down to the ice abruptly, but dogs going -to camp will drag a load up, over, or through -anything, and the prospect of rest above is even -a greater incentive to exertion than the fluent -imprecations of the half-breed below. So by dint -of hauling we reached the top, and then I made -my camp in a pine-clump on the brink. When -the dogs had been unharnessed, and the snow dug -away, the pine brush laid upon the ground, and -the wood cut, when the fire was made, the kettle -filled with snow and boiled, the dogs fed with a -good hearty meal of dry moose meat, and my own -hunger satisfied; then, it was time to think, while -the fire lit up the pine stems, and the last glint of -daylight gleamed in the western sky. A jagged -pine-top laid its black cone against what had been -the sunset. An owl from the opposite shore -sounded at intervals his lonely call; now and -again a passing breeze bent the fir trees until<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span> -they whispered forth that mournful song which -seems to echo from the abyss of the past.</p> - -<p>The fir-tree is the oldest of the trees of the -earth, and its look and its voice tell the story of -its age. If it were possible to have left my -worthless half-breeds altogether and to traverse -the solitudes alone, how gladly would I have -done so!</p> - -<p>I felt at last at home. The great silent river, -the lofty ridge darkening against the twilight, -yon star burning like a beacon above the precipice—all -<em>these</em> were friends, and midst them one -could rest in peace.</p> - -<p>And now, as I run back in thought along that -winter journey, and see again the many camp-fires -glimmering through the waste of wilderness, -there comes not to my memory a calmer scene -than that which closed around my lonely fire by -the distant Unchagah. I was there almost in the -centre of the vast wilderness of North America, -around, stretched in silence, that mystery we -term Nature, that thing which we see in pictures, -in landscapes, in memory; which we hear in the -voice of wind-swept forests and the long sob of -seas against ocean rocks. This mother, ever -present, ever mysterious, sometimes terrible, -often tender—always beautiful—stood there with -nought to come between us save loneliness and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span> -twilight. I awoke with the dawn. Soft snow was -falling on river and ridge, and the opposite shore -lay hid in mist and gloom. A breakfast, which -consists of pemmican, tea, and biscuit, takes but -a short time to prepare or to discuss, and by sunrise -I was on the river.</p> - -<p>Until mid-day I held on, but before that time -the sun glowed brightly on the dazzling surface -of the snow; and the dogs panted as they hauled -their loads, biting frequent mouthfuls of the soft -snow through which they toiled.</p> - -<p>About noon I camped on the south shore. I -had still two meals for myself, but none remained -for the dogs; the men had, however, assured me -that they would not fail to make an early start, -and I determined to await their coming in this -camp. The day passed and night closed again, -but no figure darkened the long stretch of river, -and my poor dogs went supperless to sleep. -Cerf-vola, it is true, had some scraps of sweet -pemmican, but they were mere drops in the ocean -of his appetite. The hauling-dog of the North is -a queer animal about food; when it is there he -likes to have it, but when it isn’t there, like his -Indian master, he can do without it.</p> - -<p>About supper-hour he looks wistfully at his -master, and seeing no sign of pemmican-chopping -or dry meat-slicing, he rolls himself up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span> -into a ball and goes quietly to sleep in his snow -bed.</p> - -<p>Again the night came softly down, the grey -owl hooted his lonely cry, the breeze stirred the -forest tops, and the pine-tree murmured softly -and low, singing its song of the past to the melody -of its myriad years. At such times the mind of -the wanderer sings its own song too. It is the -song of home; and as memory rings the cadence, -time and distance disappear, and the old land -brightens forth amidst the embers of the forest-fire.</p> - -<p>These islands which we call “home” are far -away; afar off we idealize them, in the forest -depths we dream bright visions of their firesides -of welcome; in the snow-sheeted lake, and the -icy stretch of river, and the motionless muskeg, -how sweetly sound the notes of brook and bird; -how brightly rise the glimpses of summer eves -when the white mists float over the scented -meadows, and the corn-craik sounds from his lair -in the meadow-sweet!</p> - -<p>It is there, away in the east, far off, where the -moon is rising above the forked pines, or the upcoming -stars edge the ice piles on the dim eastern -shores of yon sheeted lake. Far away, a speck -amidst the waves of distance, bright, happy, and -peaceful; holding out its welcome, and following -with its anxious thoughts the wanderer who sails<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span> -away over the ocean, and roams the expanses of -the earth.</p> - -<p>Well, some fine day we come back again; the -great steamship touches the long idealized shore. -Gods, how the scene changes! We feel bursting -with joy to see it all again, to say, “Oh! how -glad I am to see you all!”</p> - -<p>We say it with our eyes to the young lady -behind the refreshment buffet at the railroad -station. Alas! she mistakes our exuberance for -impertinence, and endeavours to annihilate us -with a glance, enough to freeze even her high-spirited -sherry. We pass the bobby on his beat -with a smile of recognition, but that ferocious -functionary, not a whit softened, regards us as a -“party” likely to afford him transient employment -in the matter of “running in.” The railway -porter alone seems to enter into our feelings of -joy, but alas! it is only with a view to that donation -with which we are sure to present him. We -have enlisted his sympathies as her Majesty -enlists her recruits, by the aid of a shilling. Ere -an hour has passed, the vision seen so frequently -through the mist of weary miles has vanished, -and we have taken our place in the vast humming -crowd of England’s hive, to wish ourselves back -into the dreamy solitudes again.</p> - -<p>I had been asleep some hours, and midnight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> -had come, when the sound of voices roused me, -and my recreant band approached the dying camp-fire. -They had at length torn themselves away -from the abode of bliss and moose meat, but -either the memory of its vanished pleasures, or a -stray feeling of shame, kept them still sullen and -morose. They, however, announced their readiness -to go on at once, as the crust upon the snow -was now hard. I rose from my robe, gave the -dogs a late supper, and once more we set out.</p> - -<p>Daylight found us still upon the track; the -men seemed disposed to make amends for former -dilatoriness, the ice-crust was hard, and the dogs -went well. When the sun had become warm -enough to soften the surface we camped, had -supper, and lay down to sleep for the day.</p> - -<p>With sunset came the hour of starting, and -thus turning night into day, breakfasting at sunset, -dining at midnight, supping at sunrise, -travelling all night, and sleeping all day, we held -our way up the Unchagah. Three nights of travel -passed, and the morning of the 1st of April broke -upon the silent river. We had travelled well; -full one hundred miles of these lonely, lofty shores -had vanished behind us in the grey dusky light of -twilight, night, and early morning.</p> - -<p>As the dawn broke in the east, and gradually grew -into a broader band of light, the huge ramparts of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span> -the lofty shores wore strange, unearthly aspects. -Six hundred feet above the ice, wind and sun had -already swept the snow, and the bare hill-tops -rose to view, free, at last, from winter’s covering.</p> - -<div id="i_187" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 41em;"> - <img src="images/i_187.jpg" width="2562" height="1577" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">NIGHT INTO DAY.</div></div> - -<p>Lower down full many a rugged ridge, and -steep, scarped precipice, held its clinging growth -of pine and poplar, or showed gigantic slides, upon -whose gravelly surface the loosened stones rolled -with sullen echo, into the river chasm beneath. -Between these huge walls lay the river, broadly -curving from the west, motionless and soundless, -as we swept with rapid stride over its sleeping -waters.</p> - -<p>Sometimes in the early morning, upon these -steep ridges, the moose would emerge from his -covert, and look down on the passing dog trains, -his huge, ungainly head outstretched to</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Sniff the tainted gale,”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="in0">his great ears lying forward to catch the faint -jingle of our dog-bells. Nearly all else seemed to -sleep in endless slumber, for, alone of summer -denizens, the owl, the moose, the wolf, and the -raven keep winter watch over the wilderness of -the Peace River.</p> - -<p>At daybreak, on the 1st of April, we were at the -mouth of the Smoking River. This stream enters -the Peace River from the south-west. It has its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span> -source but a couple of days’ journey north of the -Athabasca River, at the spot where that river -emerges from the Rocky Mountains. And it -drains the beautiful region of varied prairie and -forest-land, which lies at the base of the mountains -between the Peace and Athabasca rivers.</p> - -<p>The men made a long march this day. Inspired -by the offer of a gratuity, if they could make the -fort by night-time, and anxious, perhaps, to atone -for past shortcomings, they made up a train of -five strong dogs.</p> - -<p>Setting out with this train at eight o’clock in -the morning, three of them held the pace so -gamely that when evening closed we were in sight -of the lofty ridge which overhangs at the north -shore, the fort of Dunvegan.</p> - -<p>As the twilight closed over the broad river we -were steering between two huge walls of sandstone -rock, which towered up 700 feet above the -shore.</p> - -<p>The yellow light of the sunset still glowed in -the west, lighting up the broad chasm through -which the river flowed, and throwing many a weird -shadow along the basaltic precipice. Right in our -onward track stood a large dusky wolf. He -watched us until we approached within 200 yards -of him, then turning he held his course up the -centre of the river. My five dogs caught sight of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span> -him, and in an instant they gave chase. The -surface of the snow was now hard frozen, and -urged by the strength of so many dogs the -cariole flew along over the slippery surface.</p> - -<div id="i_189" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_189.jpg" width="2557" height="1578" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE WOLF-CHASE.</div></div> - -<p>The driver was soon far behind. The wolf kept -the centre of the river, and the cariole bounded -from snow pack to snow pack, or shot along the -level ice; while the dusky twilight filled the deep -chasm with its spectral light. But this wild chase -was not long to last. The wolf sought refuge -amidst the rocky shore, and the dogs turned along -the trail again.</p> - -<p>Two hours later a few lights glimmered -through the darkness, beneath the black shadow -of an immense hill. The unusual sound of rushing -water broke strangely on the ear after such a -lapse of silence. But the hill streams had already -broken their icy barriers, and their waters were -even now hastening to the great river (still chained -with the gyves of winter), to aid its hidden current -in the work of deliverance.</p> - -<p>Here and there deep pools of water lay on the -surface of the ice, through which the dogs waded, -breast deep, and the cariole floated like a boat. -Thus, alternately wading and sliding, we drew near -the glimmering lights.</p> - -<p>We had reached Dunvegan! If the men and -dogs slept well that night it was little wonder.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span> -With the intermission only necessary for food, -we had travelled incessantly during four-and-twenty -hours. Yet was it the same that night at -Dunvegan as it had been elsewhere at various -times. Outside the dogs might rest as they -pleased, but within, in the huts, Swampy and -Half-breed and Ojibbeway danced and fiddled, -laughed and capered until the small hours of the -morning.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_191" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead long"> - -<p>Alexander Mackenzie.—The first sign of Spring.—Spanker -the suspicious.—Cerf-vola contemplates cutlets.—An Indian -hunter.—“Encumbrances.”—Furs and finery.—A “dead -fall.”—The fur trade at both ends.—An old fort.—A night -attack.—Wife-lifting.—Cerf-vola in difficulties and boots.—The -Rocky Mountains at last.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">About</span> eighty years ago a solitary canoe floated -on the waters of the Peace River. Eight sturdy -Iroquois or Canadians moved it with dexterous -paddle; in the centre sat the figure of a European, -busy with field-book and compass.</p> - -<p>He was a daring Scotchman from the isles, by -name Alexander Mackenzie. He was pushing his -way slowly to the West; before him all was vague -conjecture. There was a mighty range of mountains -the Indians said—a range through which -the river flowed in a profound chasm—beyond -that all was mystery; but other wild men, who -dwelt westward of the chasm in a land of mountains, -had told them tales of another big river -flowing toward the mid-day sun into the lake that -had no shore.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span></p> - -<p>This daring explorer built himself a house not -far below the spot where my recreant crew had -found a paradise in the wilderness; here he passed -the winter. Early in the following spring he continued -his ascent of the river. He was the first -Englishman that ever passed the Rocky Mountains. -He was the first man who crossed the -Northern Continent.</p> - -<p>His footsteps were quickly followed by men -almost as resolute. Findlay, Frazer, and Thompson -soon carried the fortunes of the North-West -Company through the defiles of the Peace River; -and long before Jacob Astor had dreamt his -dream of Columbian fur trade, these men had -planted on the wild shores of New Caledonia and -Oregon the first germs of English domination; -little dreaming, doubtless, as they did so, that in -after-time, between dulness upon one side and -duplicity on the other, the fruits of their labour -and their sufferings would pass to hostile hands.</p> - -<p>From its earliest days, the fur trade of the -North had been carried on from bases which -moved northward with the tide of exploration. -The first French adventurers had made Tadousac, -at the mouth of the rock-shadowed Saguenay, the -base of their operations; later on, Montreal had -been their point of distribution; then Mackenaw, -between Lakes Michigan and Huron. With the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span> -fall of French dominion in 1762 the trade passed -to English hands, and Fort William on Lake -Superior, and Fort Chipewyan on Lake Athabasca, -became in time centres of fur trade.</p> - -<p>It was from the latter place that Mackenzie and -his successors pushed their explorations to the -distant shores of Arctic and Pacific Oceans. -Among the earlier posts which these men established -in the Great Wilderness was this fort, -called Dunvegan, on the Peace River. A McLeod, -of Skye, founded the post, and named it after the -wild, storm-swept fortalice which the chief of his -race in bygone times had reared upon the Atlantic -verge. As Dunvegan was then, so it is to-day; -half a dozen little houses roofed with pine-bark; -in front, the broad river in its deep-cut gorge; -behind, an abrupt ridge 700 feet in height, at -the top of which a rolling table-land spreads out -into endless distance.</p> - -<p>Unlike the prairies of the Saskatchewan, this -plateau is thickly interspersed with woods and -thickets of pine and poplar. Its many lakes are -free from alkali, and the varied growth of willows -which they sustain, yield ample sustenance to -the herds of moose which still roam the land. -The deep trough through which the river flows -increases with singular regularity as the traveller -ascends the stream. Thus at Vermilion the banks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span> -are scarcely thirty feet above low-water level; -200 miles higher up they rise to 350 feet; at -Dunvegan they are 720; and 100 miles still further -west they attain an elevation of 900 and 1000 -feet. Once upon the summit, however, no indication -of ruggedness meets the eye. The country -spreads into a succession of prairies, lakes, and -copses, through which the traveller can ride with -ease, safe from the badger-holes which form such -an objectionable feature in more southern prairies. -At times the river-bed fills up the entire bottom -of the deep valley through which it runs; but -more frequently a wooded terrace lies between the -foot of the ridge and the brink of the water, or -the land rises to the upper level in a series of -rounded and less abrupt ascents. The soil is a dark -sandy loam, the rocks are chiefly lime and sandstone, -and the numerous slides and huge landslips -along the lofty shores, render visible strata upon -strata of many-coloured earths and layers of rock -and shingle, lignite and banded clays in rich -succession. A black, bituminous earth in many -places forces its way through rock or shingle, and -runs in long, dark streaks down the steep descent. -Such is the present aspect of the Peace River, as -lonely and silent it holds its long course, deep -furrowed below the unmeasured wilderness.</p> - -<p>April had come; already the sun shone warmly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span> -in the mid-day hours; already the streams were -beginning to furrow the grey overhanging hills, -from whose southern sides the snow had vanished, -save where in ravine or hollow it lay deep, drifted -by the winter winds; but the river was not to be -thus easily roused from the sleep into which the -Arctic cold had cast it. Solid under its weight -of ice, four feet in thickness, it would yet lie for -days in motionless torpor. Snow might fly from -sky and hill-top, prairie and forest might yield to -the soft coming spring; but like a skilful general -grim winter only drew off his forces from outlying -points to make his last stand in the intrenchments -of the frozen river.</p> - -<p>From the summit of the steep hill, whose scarped -front looks down upon the little huts of Dunvegan, -the eye travels over many a mile of wilderness, -but no hill top darkens the far horizon; and the -traveller, whose steps for months have followed -the western sun, feels half inclined to doubt the -reality of the mountain barrier he has so long -looked in vain for. So it seemed to me, as I -scanned one evening the long line of the western -sky from this lofty ridge.</p> - -<p>Nineteen hundred miles behind me lay that -Musk Rat Creek, by whose banks on that now -distant day in October, I had bidden civilization -a long good-bye.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span></p> - -<p>Prairie and lakelet, broad river, vast forest, dim -spreading lake, silent ridge and waste of wilderness—all -lay deep sunken again in that slumber -from which my lonely passage had for a moment -roused them.</p> - -<p>Different faces had at times accompanied me; -various dogs had toiled and tugged at the oaken -sled, or lain at night around the wintry camp-fires; -and yet, still remote lay that giant range, for -whose defiles my steps had so long been bound. -But amid all changes of time and place and persons, -two companions still remained with me. Cerf-vola -the Untiring, Spanker the Suspicious, still -trotted as briskly as when they had quitted their -Dakotan home. If I should feel inclined to doubt -their strength and vigour, I had only to look down -the hill-side to read a reassurance—a couple of -hundred feet beneath where I stood. There -Spanker the suspicious might have been observed -in company with two other savages, doing his -utmost to terminate the career of a yearling calf, -which early spring had tempted to the hill-top. -It was consolatory to notice that Cerf-vola the -untiring took no part in this nefarious transaction. -He stood apart, watching it with a -countenance expressive of emotions which might -be read, either in the light of condemnation of -cruelty, or commendation of coming veal cutlets.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span></p> - -<p>About midnight on the 3rd of April I quitted -Dunvegan, and turned once more along the frozen -river. The moon, verging to its first quarter, shone -above the southern shore, lighting half the river, -while the remainder lay wrapped in darkness.</p> - -<p>A half-breed named Kalder accompanied me—my -former servitor having elected to remain at -Dunvegan. He had probably heard strange stories -of life beyond the mountains. “Miners were fond -of shooting; to keep their hand and eye in practice -they would shoot him as soon as they caught sight -of him,” so it would perhaps be wiser to stay on -the eastern slope. He remained behind, and -William Kalder, a Scotch half-breed, who spoke -French in addition to his Indian tongue, reigned in -his stead.</p> - -<p>Above Dunvegan, the Peace is a rapid river. -We decided to travel by moonlight only, and in -the morning, as many places had already become -unsound; a great quantity of water lay on the -surface of the ice, and wet mocassins and heavy -snow-shoes became our constant companions. By -daybreak, however, all water would be frozen solid, -and except for the effect of the sharp ice on the -dogs’ feet, the travelling was excellent at that hour.</p> - -<p>At daybreak on the fourth we heard ahead a -noise of barking, and presently from the wooded -shore a moose broke forth upon the river. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span> -crusted snow broke beneath his weight, and he -turned at bay near the southern shore. We were yet -a long way off, and we hurried on as fast as dogs -could run. When we had reached within a couple -of hundred yards of where he stood butting the -dogs, a shot rang sharply from the woods; the -unshapely animal still kept his head lowered to his -enemies, but the shot had struck, for as we came -panting up, he rolled heavily amidst his baying -enemies, who closed around him while the blood -bubbled fast over the pure frosted snow. Above, -on the wooded banks, under a giant pine, sat a -young Indian quietly regarding his quarry. Not a -move of limb or countenance betokened excitement; -his face was flushed by a long quick chase down -the rugged hill-side; but now, though his game -lay stretched beneath him, he made no outward -sign of satisfaction. He sat unmoved on the rock -above, his long gun balanced above his knee—the -fitting background to a picture of wild sport in the -wilderness. It was now the time when the Indians -leave their winter hunting-grounds, and make a -journey to the forts with the produce of their -season’s toil. They come, a motley throng; men, -women and children; dogs, sleds and hand-tobogans, -bearing the precious freight of fur to the -trading-post, bringing in the harvest of marten-skins -from the vast field of the desert wilds.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span></p> - -<p>On this morning, ere we reached our camping -place, a long cavalcade passed us. A couple of -braves in front, too proud and lazy to carry anything -but their guns; then old women and young -ones, bending under their loads, or driving dogs, -or hauling hand-sleds laden with meat, furs, mooseskins, -and infants. The puppy-dog and the -infant never fail in cabin or <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cortége</i>. Sometimes -one may see the two packed together on the -back of a woman, who carries besides a load of meat -or skins. I believe the term “encumbrance” has -sometimes been applied to the human portion of -such a load, in circles so elevated that even the -humanity of maternity would appear to have been -successfully eliminated by civilization. If ever -the term carried truth with it, it is here in this wild -northern land, where yon wretched woman bears -man’s burthen of toil as well as her own. Here -the child is veritably an encumbrance; yet in some -instincts the savage mother might teach her civilized -sister a lesson of womanity. Perhaps here, -while this motley cavalcade passes along, we may -step aside a moment from the track, and tell the -story of a marten.</p> - -<p>A couple of cotton kerchiefs, which my lady’s-maid -would disdain to be the owner of, and a -couple of ten-pound bank-notes from my lady’s -purse, mark the two extremes between which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span> -lies the history of a marten. We will endeavour -to bring together these widely-severed ends.</p> - -<p>When the winter is at its coldest, but when the -days are beginning to lengthen out a little over the -dim pine-woods of the North, the Indian builds a -small circular fence of wood, some fourteen inches -high. Upon one side this circle is left open, but -across the aperture a thick limb or thin trunk of -tree is laid with one end resting on the ground. -Inside the circle a forked stick holds a small bit -of fish or meat as a bait. This forked stick is set -so as to support another small piece of wood, upon -which in turn rests the half-uplifted log. Pull the -baited stick, and you let slip the small supporting -one, which in turn lets fall the large horizontal log. -Thus runs the sequence. It is a guillotine, with a -tree instead of a sharp knife; it is called a “dead -fall.” Numbers of them are erected in the woods, -where martens’ tracks are plentiful in the snow. -Well, then, the line of “dead falls” being made and -set, the Indian departs, and silence reigns in the -forest. But once a week he starts forth to visit -this line of “dead falls,” which may be ten or -fifteen miles in length.</p> - -<p>Every now and again he finds one of his guillotines -down, and underneath it lies a small, thick-furred -animal, in size something larger than a -ferret, something smaller than a cat. It is needless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span> -to describe the colour of the animal; from -childhood upwards it is familiar to us. Most persons -can recall the figure of maiden aunt or stately -visitor, muffed, cuffed, boa’d and pelissed, in all -the splendour of her sables. Our little friend -under the dead fall is none other than the sable—the -marten of North America, the sable of Siberia.</p> - -<p>A hundred miles away from the nearest fort -this marten has been captured. When the snow -and ice begin to show symptoms of softening, the -Indian packs his furs together, and sets out, -as we have seen, for the fort. There are, perhaps, -five or six families together; the squaws and dogs -are heavy laden, and the march is slow and -toilsome. All the household gods have to be -carried along. The leather tent, the battered -copper kettle, the axe, the papoose strapped in -the moss bag, the two puppy-dogs, yet unable to -shift for themselves, the snow-shoes for hunting, -the tattered blanket, the dry meat; it makes a -big load, all told; and squaw and dog toil along -with difficulty under it. The brave of course goes -before, deigning only to carry his gun, and not -always doing even that; the wife is but as a dog -to him.</p> - -<p>Well, day by day the party moves along till -the fort is reached. Then comes the trade. The -fifty or a hundred marten-skins are handed over:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span> -the debt of the past year is cancelled, partly or -wholly; and advances are taken for the coming -season.</p> - -<p>The wild man’s first thought is for the little -one,—a child’s white capôte, strouds or blanketing -for tiny backs, a gaudy handkerchief for -some toddling papoose. After that the shot and -powder, the flints and ball for his own use; and -lastly, the poor wife gets something for her share. -She has managed to keep a couple of deer-skins -for her own perquisite, and with these she derives -a little pin-money.</p> - -<p>It would be too long to follow the marten-skin -through its many vicissitudes—how it changes -from hand to hand, each time more than doubling -its price, until at length some stately dowager -spends more guineas upon it than its original -captor realized pence for it.</p> - -<p>Many a time have I met these long processions, -sometimes when I have been alone on the march, -and at others when my followers were around me; -each time there was the inevitable hand-shaking, -the good-humoured laughing, the magic word -“thé;” a few matches, and a plug or two of -tobacco given, and we separated. How easily they -were made happy! And now and again among -them would be seen a poor crippled Indian, -maimed by fall from horse or shot from gun,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span> -hobbling along with the women in the rear of the -straggling <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cortége</i>, looking for all the world like a -wild bird with a broken wing.</p> - -<p>The spring was now rapidly approaching, and -each day made some change in the state of the -ice. The northern bank was quite clear of snow; -the water on the river grew daily deeper, and -at night the ice cracked and groaned as we -walked upon it, as though the sleeping giant had -begun to stir and stretch himself previous to his -final waking.</p> - -<p>On the morning of the 7th of April we passed -the site of an old fort on the northern shore. -I turned aside to examine it. Rank weeds and -grass covered a few mounds, and faint traces of a -fireplace could be still discerned. Moose-tracks -were numerous around.</p> - -<p>Just fifty years earlier, this old spot had been -the scene of a murderous attack.</p> - -<p>In the grey of the morning, a small band of -Beaver Indians approached the fort, and shot its -master and four men; a few others escaped in a -canoe, leaving Fort St. John’s to its fate. It was -immediately burned down, and the forest has -long since claimed it as its own. In the phraseology -of the period, this attack was said to have -been made by the Indians in revenge for a series -of “wife-lifting” which had been carried on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span> -against them by the denizens of the fort. History -saith no more, but it is more than probable that -this dangerous method of levying “black <em>female</em>” -was thereafter discontinued by the Highland fur-traders.</p> - -<p>We camped not far from the ruined fort, and -next night drew near our destination. It was full -time. The ice was rapidly going, and already in -places dark, treacherous holes showed grimly -through to the rushing water beneath.</p> - -<p>The dogs were all lame, and Cerf-vola had to -be regularly put in boots previous to starting. -Still, lame or sound, he always travelled just the -same. When his feet were very sore, he would -look around now and again for assistance; but if -none was forthcoming he bent himself resolutely -to the task, and with down-bent head toiled at -his collar. Others might tire, others might give -out, but he might truly <span class="locked">say,—</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indentq">“Dogs may come, and dogs may go,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But I go on for ever,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ever, ever, I go on for ever.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Before daybreak on the 8th we stopped for the -usual cup of tea and bite of pemmican. The night -was dark and overcast. Beside us a huge pile of -driftwood lay heaped above the ice. We fired it -in many places before starting, and then set out -for our last dog-march. The flames rose high<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span> -through the dry timber, and a long line of light -glowed and quivered upon the ice. We were -soon far away from it. Day broke; a thick rain -began to fall; dogs and men sunk deep in the -slushy snow. “Go on, good old Cerf-vola! A -little more, and your weary journey will be over; a -little more, and the last mile of this 1400 will have -been run; a little more, and the collar will be taken -from your worn shoulders for the last long time!”</p> - -<p>At the bend of the Peace River, where a lofty -ridge runs out from the southern side, and the -hills along the northern shore rise to nearly 1000 -feet above the water, stands the little fort of St. -John. It is a remote spot, in a land which is itself -remote. From out the plain to the west, forty or -fifty miles away, great snowy peaks rise up against -the sky. To the north and south and east all is -endless wilderness—wilderness of pine and prairie, -of lake and stream—of all the vast inanity of that -moaning waste which sleeps between the Bay of -Hudson and the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<p>So far have we journeyed through that land; here -we shall rest awhile. The time of winter travel -has drawn to its close; the ice-road has done its -work; the dogs may lie down and rest; for those -great snowy peaks are the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_206" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead long"> - -<p>The wild animals of the Peace River.—Indian method of -hunting the moose.—Twa-poos.—The beaver.—The bear.—Bear’s -butter.—A bear’s hug and how it ended.—Fort St. -John.—The river awakes.—A rose without a thorn.—Nigger -Dan.—A threatening letter.—I issue a Judicial -Memorandum.—Its effect is all that could be desired.—Working -up the Peace River.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Three</span> animals have made their homes on the -shores of the Peace River and its tributaries. -They are the bear, the moose, and the beaver. -All are valuable to the Indian for their flesh, fur, -or skin; all come to as great perfection here as in -any part of the American continent.</p> - -<p>The first and last named go to sleep in the long -winter months, but the moose still roams the woods -and willow banks, feeding with his flesh the forts -and the Indians along the entire river. About -100 full-grown moose had been consumed during -the winter months at the four posts we have lately -passed, in fresh meat alone. He is a huge animal; -his carcase will weigh from three to six hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span> -pounds; yet an ordinary half-breed will devour him -in little more than a month.</p> - -<p>Between four and five hundred moose are -annually eaten at the forts of the Peace River; -four times that number are consumed by the Indians, -but the range of the animal is vast, the hunters -are comparatively few, and to-day there are probably -as many moose in Peace River as there were -fifty years ago.</p> - -<p>Athabasca trades to-day the skins of nearly -2000 moose in a single year. Few animals are -more unshapely than this giant deer. His neck -slopes down from the shoulder, ending in a head -as large as a horse—a head which ends in a nose -curled like a camel’s—a nose delicious to the taste, -but hideous to the eye. The ears are of enormous -length. Yet, ugly as are the nose and ears of the -moose, they are his chief means of protection -against his enemy, and in that great ungainly head -there lurks a brain of marvellous cunning. It is -through nose and ears that this cunning brain is -duly prompted to escape danger.</p> - -<p><em>No man save the Indian, or the half-Indian</em>, can -hunt the moose with chance of success.</p> - -<p>I am aware that a host of Englishmen and -Canadians will exclaim against this, but nevertheless -it is perfectly true. Hunting the moose in -summer and winter is one thing—killing him in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span> -snow-yard, or running him down in deep snow is -another. The two methods are as widely different -as killing a salmon which another man has hooked -for you is different from rising, hooking, playing, -and gaffing one yourself.</p> - -<p>To hunt the moose requires years of study. -Here is the little game which his instinct teaches -him. When the early morning has come, he -begins to think of lying down for the day. He -has been feeding on the grey and golden willow-tops -as he walked leisurely along. His track is -marked in the snow or soft clay; he carefully -retraces his footsteps, and, breaking off suddenly -to the leeward side, lies down a gunshot from his -feeding-track. He knows he must get the wind -of any one following his trail.</p> - -<p>In the morning “Twa-poos,” or the Three -Thumbs, sets forth to look for a moose; he hits -the trail and follows it; every now and again he -examines the broken willow-tops or the hoof-marks, -when experience tells him that the moose -has been feeding here during the early night. -Twa-poos quits the trail, bending away in a deep -circle to leeward; stealthily he returns to the -trail, and as stealthily bends away again from it. -He makes as it were the semicircles of the letter -B, supposing the perpendicular line to indicate -the trail of the moose; at each return to it he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span> -examines attentively the willows, and judges his -proximity to the game.</p> - -<p>At last he is so near that he knows for an -absolute certainty that the moose is lying in a -thicket a little distance ahead. Now comes the -moment of caution. He divests himself of every -article of clothing which might cause the slightest -noise in the forest; even his moccassins are laid -aside; and then, on a pointed toe which a ballet-girl -might envy, he goes forward for the last stalk. -Every bush is now scrutinized, every thicket -examined. See! he stops all at once! You who -follow him look, and look in vain; you can see -nothing. He laughs to himself, and points to yon -willow covert. No, there is nothing there. He -noiselessly cocks his gun. You look again and -again, but can see nothing; then Twa-poos suddenly -stretches out his hand and breaks a little -dry twig from an overhanging branch. In an -instant, right in front, thirty or forty yards away, -an immense dark-haired animal rises up from the -willows. He gives one look in your direction, and -that look is his <em>last</em>. Twa-poos has fired, and the -moose is either dead in his thicket or within a few -hundred yards of it.</p> - -<p>One word now about this sense of hearing -possessed by the moose. The most favourable -day for hunting is in wild windy weather, when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span> -the dry branches of the forest crack in the gale. -Nevertheless, Indians have assured me that, on -such days, when they have sighted a moose, they -have broken a dry stick; and although many -branches were waving and cracking in the woods, -the animal started at the sound—distinguishing it -from the natural noises of the forest.</p> - -<p>But although the moose are still as numerous -on Peace River as they were in days far removed -from the present, there is another animal which -has almost wholly disappeared.</p> - -<p>The giant form of the wood-buffalo no longer -darkens the steep lofty shores. When first -Mackenzie beheld the long reaches of the river, -the “gentle lawns” which alternated with “abrupt -precipices” were “enlivened” by vast herds -of buffaloes. This was in 1793. Thirty-three -years later, Sir George Simpson also ascended the -river with his matchless Iroquois crew. Yet no -buffalo darkened the lofty shores.</p> - -<p>What destroyed them in that short interval? -The answer is not difficult to seek—deep snow. -The buffalo grazes on the grass, the moose browses -on the tall willows. During one winter of exceptionally -deep snow, eighty buffaloes were killed -in a single day in the vicinity of Dunvegan. The -Indians ran them into the snowdrifts, and then -despatched them with knives.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span></p> - -<p>It is still a matter of dispute whether the wood-buffalo -is the same species as his namesake of the -southern plains; but it is generally believed by -the Indians that he is of a kindred race. He -is nevertheless larger, darker, and wilder; and -although the northern land, in which he is still -found, abounds in open prairies and small plains, -he nevertheless seeks in preference the thickest -woods. Whether he be of the plain race or not, -one thing is certain—his habits vary much from -his southern cousin. The range of the wood-buffalo -is much farther north than is generally -believed. There are scattered herds even now on -the banks of the Liard River as far as sixty-one -degrees of north latitude.</p> - -<p>The earth had never elsewhere such an accumulation -of animal life as this northern continent -must have exhibited some five or six centuries -ago, when, from the Great Slave Lake to the Gulf -of Florida, millions upon millions of bisons -roamed the wilderness.</p> - -<p>Have we said enough of animals, or can we -spare a few words to the bears and the beavers? -Of all the animals which the New World gave to -man the beaver was the most extraordinary. His -cunning surpassed that of the fox; his skill was -greater than that of the honey-bee; his patience -was more enduring than the spider’s; his labour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span> -could turn the waters of a mighty river, and -change the face of an entire country. He could -cut down forests, and build bridges; he dwelt in -a house with rooms, a common hall and a neat -doorway in it. He could fell a forest tree in any -direction he pleased, or carry it on his back when -his sharp teeth had lopped its branches. He -worked in companies, with a master beaver at the -head of each—companies from whose ranks an -idle or a lazy beaver was ignominiously expelled. -He dwelt along the shores of quiet lakes, or by -the margins of rushing streams, and silent majestic -rivers, far in the heart of the solitude.</p> - -<p>But there came a time when men deemed his -soft, dark skin a fitting covering for their heads; -and wild men hunted him out in his lonely home. -They trapped him from Texas to the Great Bear -Lake; they hunted him in the wildest recesses -of the Rocky Mountains; rival companies went -in pursuit of him. In endeavouring to cover the -heads of others, hundreds of trappers lost their -own head-covering; the beaver brought many a -white man’s scalp to the red man’s lodge-pole; -and many a red man’s life went out with the -beaver’s. In the West he became well-nigh -extinct, in the nearer North he became scarce; -yet here in Peace River he held his own against -all comers. Nigh 30,000 beavers die annually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span> -along its shores, and when spring opens its -waters the night is ever broken by the dull plunge -of countless beavers in the pools and eddies of -the great river.</p> - -<p>Along the lofty shores of the Peace River the -Saskootum berry grows in vast quantities. In -August its fruit is ripe, and the bears come forth -to enjoy it; black, brown, and grizzly, stalk -along the shores and hill-sides browsing on this -luscious berry. On such food Bruin grows fat -and unwieldy; he becomes “sleek-headed” and -“sleeps of nights,” thus falling an easy prey to -his hunter.</p> - -<p>While he was alive he loved the “poire” berries, -and now when he is dead the red man continues -the connexion, and his daintiest morsel is the bear’s -fat and Saskootum berries mixed with powdered -moose-meat. It is the dessert of a Peace River -feast; the fat, white as cream, is eaten in large -quantities, and although at first a little of it -suffices, yet after a while one learns to like it, and -the dried Saskootum and “bear’s butter” becomes -a luxury.</p> - -<p>But fat or lean, the grizzly bear is a formidable -antagonist. Few Indians will follow him -alone to his lair; his strength is enormous, he -can kill and carry a buffalo-bull; were he as -active as he is strong it is probable that he would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span> -stand as the most dangerous animal on the earth. -But his movements are comparatively slow, and -his huge form is upraised upon its hind legs -before he grapples his adversary. Woe to that -adversary should those great fore-paws ever -encircle him. Once only have I known a man -live to tell the tale of that embrace: his story was -a queer one. He had been attacked from behind, -he had only time to fire his gun into the bear’s -chest when the monster grasped him. The Indian -never lost his power of thought; he plunged his -left arm into the brute’s throat, and caught firm -hold of the tongue; with his right hand he drove -his hunting-knife into ribs and side; his arm and -hand were mangled, his sides were gashed and -torn, but the grizzly lay dead before him.</p> - -<p>The fort of St. John, on the Upper Peace -River, is a very tumble-down old place; it stands -on the south shore of the river, some thirty feet -above high-water level; close behind its ruined -buildings the ridges rise 1000 feet, steep and pine-clad; -on the opposite shore bare grassy hills lift -their thicket-fringed faces nearly to the same -elevation; the river, in fact, runs at the bottom of -a very large V-shaped trough 900 feet below the -prairie-plateau. Between the base of the hill and -the bank of the river lies a tract of wooded and -sheltered land, from whose groves of birch, poplar,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span> -and pines the loud “drumming” of innumerable -partridges now gave token of the coming spring. -Yes, we had travelled into the spring—our steps -and these never-tiring dogs had carried us farther -and quicker than time. It was only the second -week in April, and already the earth began to -soften; the forest smelt of last year’s leaves and -of this year’s buds; the rills spoke, and the wild -duck winged along the river channels. During -the whole of the second week of April the days -were soft and warm; rain fell in occasional -showers; at daybreak my thermometer showed -only 3° or 4° of frost, and in the afternoon stood -at 50° to 60° in the shade. From the 15th to the -20th the river, which had hitherto held aloof from -all advances of the spring, began to show many -symptoms of yielding to her soft entreaties. Big -tears rose at times upon his iron face and flowed -down his frosted cheeks; his great heart seemed -to swell within him, and ominous groans broke -from his long-silent bosom. At night he recovered -himself a little, and looked grim and rigid -in the early morning; but, at last, spring, and -shower, and sun, and stream were too much for -him—all his children were already awake, and -prattling, and purling, and pulling at him, and -shaking him to open his long-closed eyelids, to -look once more at the blue and golden summer.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span> -It was the 20th of April. But the rose of spring -had its thorn too (what rose has not?), and with -bud, and sun, and shower came the first mosquito -on this same 20th of April. He was a feeble -insect, and hummed around in a mournful sort of -manner, not at all in keeping with the glowing -prospect before him. He had a whole long -summer of stinging in prospective; “the winter -of his discontent” was over, and yet there was -nothing hilarious in his hum. I have made a -slight error in repeating the old saying, that “no -rose is without its thorn,” for there is just one—it -is the primrose. But there were other thorns -than mosquitoes in store for the denizens of this -isolated spot, called St. John’s, in the wilderness.</p> - -<p>On the north shore of the river, directly facing -the tumble-down fort, a new log-house was in -course of erection by the Hudson’s Bay Company. -Work moves slowly in the North, and this log-house -lay long unfinished. One fine day a canoe -came floating down the lonely river; it held a -solitary negro—pioneer, cook, trapper, vagrant, -idler, or squatter, as chance suited him. This -time the black paddler determined to squat by -the half-finished log-house of the Company. Four -years earlier he had dwelt for a season on this -same spot. There were dark rumours afloat -about him; he had killed his man it was averred;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span> -nay, he had repeated the pastime, and killed two -men. He had robbed several mining shanties, -and had to shift his residence more than once -beyond the mountains on account of his mode of -life. Altogether Nigger Dan, as he was called, -bore an indifferent reputation among the solitary -white man and his half-breed helpers at the post -of St. John’s. By the Indians he was regarded -as something between a beaver and an American -bear, and, had his head been tradeable as a matter -of fur, I believe they would have trapped him to -a certainty. But despite the hostile feelings of -the entire community, Nigger Dan held stout -possession of his shanty, and claimed, in addition -to his hut, all the land adjoining it, as well as -the Hudson’s Bay Fort in course of erection. -From his lair he issued manifestoes of a very -violent nature. He planted stakes in the ground -along the river-bank, upon which he painted in -red ochre hieroglyphics of a menacing character. -At night he could be heard across the silent river -indulging in loud and uncalled-for curses, and at -times he varied this employment by reciting portions -of the Bible in a pitch of voice and accent -peculiar to gentlemen of colour. On the 12th of -April, four days after my arrival at St. John’s, -my young host was the recipient of the following -ultimatum. I copy it <span class="locked">verbatim:—</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p> -<i>April 12.</i><br /> - -<span class="smcap">Kenedy</span> I hear by<br /> -Worne you that Com and Gett your<br /> -persnol property if eny you<br /> -have Got of my prmeeis In 24 hours And then keep away<br /> -from me because I shal Not betrubbld Nor trod on<br /> -only by her most Noble<br /> - -Majesty<br /> -Government<br /> - -(Sgd) <span class="smcap">D. T. Williams</span>. -</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0">On the back <span class="locked">appeared,—</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>I have wated longe A-day for an ancer from that Notis you -toer Down and now It is my turn to tore <span class="locked">down —— ——</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Although the spirit of loyalty which breathed -through the latter portion of this document was -most admirable, it is nevertheless matter for -regret that Dan’s views of the subject of “persnol -property” were not those of a law-abiding citizen; -unfortunately for me, both the Hudson’s Bay -claimant and the negro occupant appealed to me in -support of their rival rights. What was to be done? -It is true that by virtue of a commission conferred -upon me some years earlier I had been elevated -to the lofty title of justice of the peace for Rupert’s -Land and the North-West Territories, my brother -justices consisting, I believe, of two Hudson Bay -officials and three half-breed buffalo runners, whose -collective wisdom was deemed amply sufficient to -dispense justice over something like two million<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span> -square miles. Nevertheless, it occurred to me -that this matter of disputed ownership was one -outside even the wide limits of my jurisdiction. -To admit such want of jurisdiction would never -have answered. “Rupert’s Land and the North-West” -carried with them a sense of vast indefinite -power, that if it were once shaken by an admission -of non-competency, two million square miles, -containing a population of one twenty-fourth of -a wild man to each square mile, might have -instantly become a prey to chaotic crime. Feeling -the inutility of my lofty office to deal with the -matters in question, I decided upon adopting a -middle course, one which I have every reason to -believe upheld the full majesty of the law in the -eyes of the eight representatives of the Canadian, -African, and American races of man, now assembled -around me. I therefore issued a document which -ran <span class="locked">thus:—</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Judicial Memorandum.</span></p> - -<p>Various circumstances having occurred in the neighbourhood -of the Hudson’s Bay Fort, known as St. John’s, on the -Peace River, of a nature to lead to the assumption that a -breach of the peace is liable to arise out of the question of -disputed ownership, in a plot of land on the north shore of the -river, on which the Hudson’s Bay Company have erected -buildings to serve as their future place of business, and on -which it is asserted one Daniel Williams, a person of colour, -formerly lived, this is to notify all persons concerned in this -question, that no belief of ownership, no former or present<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span> -possession, will be held in any way to excuse or palliate the -slightest infringement of the law, or to sanction any act of -violence being committed, or to occasion any threats being -made use of by any of the said parties which might lead to a -breach of the peace.</p> - -<p class="hang">Executed by me, as Justice of the Peace for Rupert’s Land -and the North-West, this 22nd day of April, 1873.</p> - -<p class="sigright"> -Signed, &c., &c. -</p> -</div> - -<p>I claim for this memorandum or manifesto some -slight degree of praise. It bears, I think, a striking -analogy to diplomatic documents, for which of late -years the British Government has been conspicuous -in times of grave foreign complications; but in one -important respect my judicial memorandum was -very much more successful than any of the political -papers upon which it was framed; for whereas -they had been received by the respective belligerents -to whom they had been addressed in a -manner not at all flattering to our national dignity, -my very lucid statement that, diplomatically -speaking, two and two made four, had a marked -impression on the minds of my audience.</p> - -<p>On the one hand, I clearly pointed out that -murder, arson, and robbery were not singly or -collectively in unison with the true interpretation -of British law; and on the other, I carefully -abstained from giving any indication of what -would result from the infringement of that law in -the persons of any of the belligerents.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span></p> - -<p>I have reason to believe that the negro Bismarck -was deeply impressed by the general tenour of the -document; and that a lengthened perusal of the -word “executed,” in the last sentence, carried -with it a sense of profound strangulation under -which he long laboured.</p> - -<p>And now it was time to think of moving again -towards the setting sun.</p> - -<p>Many months of travel had carried me across -the great plateau of the North to this spot, where -from the pine-clad plain arose the white ridges of -the Rocky Mountains. Before me lay a land of -alps, a realm of mountain peaks and gloomy -cañons, where in countless valleys, unseen by the -eye of man, this great Peace River had its distant -source. In snow that lasts the live-long year -these mountain summits rest; but their sides early -feel the influence of the summer sun, and from -the thousand valleys crystal streams rush forth to -swell the majestic current of the great river, and -to send it foaming in mighty volume to the distant -Athabasca.</p> - -<p>At such a time it is glorious work for the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> to launch his cotton-wood canoe on the -rushing water and glance down the broad bosom -of the river. His paddle lies idle in the water, or -is used only to steer the swift-flying craft; and -when evening darkens over the lofty shores, he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span> -lights his camp-fire full half a hundred miles from -his starting-point of the morning.</p> - -<p>But if it be idle, easy work to run down the -river at its summer level, what arduous toil it is -to ascend it during the same season! Bit by bit, -little by little, the upward way must be won; with -paddle, with pole, with line dragged along shore -and pulled round tree-stump or projecting boulder; -until evening finds the toiler often not three river -reaches from his starting-point.</p> - -<p>When the river finally breaks up, and the ice has -all passed away, there is a short period when the -waters stand at a low level; the sun is not yet -strong enough to melt the snow quickly, and the -frosts at night are still sharp in the mountain -valleys. The river then stands ten feet below its -level of mid-June; this period is a short one, and -not an hour must be lost by the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> who -would gain the benefit of the low water in the -earlier days of May.</p> - -<p>Seventy miles higher up the Peace River stands a -solitary house called Hudson’s Hope. It marks the -spot where the river first emerges from the cañon -of the Rocky Mountains, and enters the plain -country. A trail, passable for horses, leads along -the north shore of the river to this last trading-post -of the Hudson’s Bay Company on the verge of the -mountains. Along this trail I now determined to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span> -continue my journey, so as to gain the west side -of the Great Cañon before the ice had left the -river, and thus reap the advantage of the low -water in ascending still farther into the mountains.</p> - -<p>It is no easy matter to place an exact picture -of the topography of a country before a reader: -we must, however, endeavour to do so.</p> - -<p>Some fifty miles west of St. John, the Peace -River issues from the cañon through which it -passes the outer range of the Rocky Mountains. -No boat, canoe, or craft of any kind has ever run -the gauntlet of this huge chasm; for five-and-thirty -miles it lies deep sunken through the -mountains; while from its depths there ever rises -the hoarse roar of the angry waters as they dash -furiously against their rocky prison. A trail of -ten miles leads across this portage, and at the -western end of this trail the river is reached close -to where it makes its first plunge into the rock-hewn -chasm. At this point the traveller stands -within the outer range of the mountains, and he -has before him a broad river, stretching far into a -region of lofty peaks, a river with strong but even -current, flowing between banks 200 to 300 yards -apart. Around great mountains lift up their heads -dazzling with the glare of snow, 10,000 feet above -the water which carries his frail canoe.</p> - -<p>It was through this pass that I now proposed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span> -to journey westward towards the country which -lies between the Pacific Ocean, Alaska, and the -multitudinous mountains of Central British -Columbia, a land but little known; a vast alpine -region, where, amidst lakes and mountains nature -reigns in loneliness and cloud.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_225" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Start from St. John’s.—Crossing the ice.—Batiste La Fleur.—Chimeroo.—The -last wood-buffalo.—A dangerous weapon.—Our -raft collapses.—Across the Half-way River.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">The</span> 22nd of April had come. For some days we -were engaged at St. John’s in preparing supplies -for the ascent of the river, and in catching and -bringing in from the prairie the horses which -were to carry me to the point of embarcation at -the west end of the cañon; the snow had nearly -all disappeared from the level prairie. The river -opposite the fort was partly open, but some -distance below a bridge of ice yet remained, and -on the 20th we moved our horses across this -connecting link to the north shore. The night of -the 20th made a serious change in the river, and -when the 22nd came, it was doubtful whether we -should be able to cross without mishap.</p> - -<p>From the fort of St. John’s to the gold mines -on the Ominica River was some twenty or thirty -days’ travel, and as no supplies were obtainable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span> -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en route</i>, save such as my gun might afford, it -became necessary to carry a considerable quantity -of moose pemmican and dry meat, the sole -luxuries which St. John’s could boast of.</p> - -<p>By the 22nd all preparations were declared -complete, and we began to cross the river over -the doubtful ice-bridge. First went two men -dragging a dog-sled, on which was piled the stores -and provisions for the journey; next came old -Batiste La Fleur, who was to accompany me as -far as the Half-way River, a torrent which we -would have to raft across on the second day of -our journey.</p> - -<p>Batiste carried a long pole, with which he -sounded the ice previous to stepping upon it. I -brought up the rear, also carrying a pole, and -leading by a long line the faithful Cerf-vola. -Spanker and his six companions here passed from -my hands, and remained at St. John’s to idle -through the approaching summer, and then to -take their places as Hudson Bay hauling-dogs; -but for Cerf-vola there was to be no more hauling, -his long and faithful service had at length -met its reward, and the untiring Esquimaux was -henceforth to lounge through life collarless and -comfortable.</p> - -<p>Coasting down along the shore-ice we reached -the crossing-point, and put out into the mid-river;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span> -once on the dangerous part, there was no time -to think whether it was safe or not. A Salteaux -Indian, dragging the sled, went in, but light and -quick as thought he dragged himself from the -ice and sped along its yielding surface. Below -rumbled the river, and in the open places its dark -waters gurgled up and over the crumbling ice. -Only a narrow tongue of ice spanned the central -current; we crossed it with nothing worse than -wet feet and legs, and to me a dislocated thumb, -and then we breathed freer on the farther side.</p> - -<p>Loading the horses with luggage and provisions, -I bade good-bye to my host, and we -turned our faces towards the steep north shore. -The day was gloriously bright. The hill up -which the horses scrambled for a thousand feet -was blue with wild anemones; spring was in the -earth and in the air. Cerf-vola raced in front, -with tail so twisted over his back that it -threatened to dislocate his spine in a frantic -attempt to get in front of his nose. The earth, -bare of snow, gave forth a delicious fragrance, -which one drank with infinite delight after the -long, long scentless winter; and over the white -river below, and the pine forest beyond, summer, -dressed in blue sky and golden sunbeam, came -moving gently up on the wing of the soft south -wind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span></p> - -<p>We reached the summit. Below lay a long -line of frosted river; the little fort, dwarfed by -distance, the opposing ridges, the vast solitude, -and beyond all, snow-white against the western -sky, the peaks and pinnacles of nameless mountains. -Through varied prairie and wooded country, -and across many a rushing brook, deep hidden -in tangled brake and thicket, we held our way on -that bright spring afternoon; and evening found -us on a bare and lofty ridge, overlooking the -valley of the Peace River. Batiste had lived his -life in these solitudes, and knew the name of -creek and prairie, and the history (for even the -wilderness has a history) of each hill or widespread -meadow.</p> - -<p>The beautiful prairie which lay beneath our -camping-place was Chimeroo’s prairie, and the -great ridge of rock which frowned above it was -also Chimeroo’s; and away there where the cleft -appeared in the hills to the north, that was where -Chimeroo’s river came out to join the Peace. In -fact, Chimeroo played such a conspicuous part in -the scenery that one naturally asked, Who was -Chimeroo?</p> - -<p>“Chimeroo! Oh, he is a Beaver Indian; he -lived here for a long time, and he killed the last -wood-buffalo in yonder valley, just three years ago.”</p> - -<p>The last of his race had wandered down from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span> -the banks of the Liard, and Chimeroo had struck -his trail, and followed him to the death.</p> - -<p>When twilight fell, that peculiar orange light of -the American wilderness lay long in the west. -Against this vivid colour, Chimeroo’s hill stood -out in inky profile the perfect image of a colossal -face. Forehead, nose, lips, and chin seemed cut -in the huge rock, and, like a monstrous sphinx, -looked blankly over the solitude.</p> - -<p>“It is the head of Chimeroo,” I said to Batiste; -“see, he looks over his dominions.” We were -perched upon a bare hill-top, many hundred feet -above the river. The face rose between us and -the west, some three miles distant; the head, -thrown slightly back, seemed to look vacantly out -on the waste of night and wilderness, while a -long beard (the lower part of the ridge) descended -into the darkness. Gradually day drew off his -orange curtain from the horizon, and ere the darkness -had blotted out the huge features of Chimeroo, -we slept upon our lonely hill-top.</p> - -<p>Pursuing our journey on the morrow, we descended -to the river, and held our way over -Chimeroo’s prairie, passing beneath the lofty -ridge, whose outline had assumed the image of a -human face.</p> - -<p>About mid-day we reached the banks of -Chimeroo’s river, which, being flooded, we forded,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span> -and, climbing its steep north shore, halted for -dinner. It would not be easy to exaggerate the -beauty of the country through which the trail -had carried us, or the sensation of rest which -came to one as, looking out over the landscape, -the fair spring scene stole insensibly on the -mind. Everywhere the blue anemone, like a huge -primrose, looked up to the bluer sky; butterflies -fluttered in the clear, pure air; partridges -drummed in the budding thickets. The birch-trees -and willows were putting forth their flowers, -precursors of the leaves so soon to follow. The -long-hushed rippling of the streams fell on the -ear like music heard after lapse of time; and -from the blue depths of sky at times fell the cry -of the wild goose, as with scarce-moving wing -he held his way in long waving <em>w</em>‘s to his summer -home. Chimeroo’s prairie was golden with the -long grass of the old year. Chimeroo’s hill glistened -in the bright sun of the new spring; and -winter, driven from the lower earth, had taken -refuge in the mountains, where his snow-white -flag of surrender floated out from crag and cliff, -high above the realm of pines. Such a scene as -this, might the first man have beheld when he -looked over the virgin earth. It was far too fine -a day to work: we would rest. Batiste La Fleur -knew of a lake not far off, and we would go to it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span> -and spend the evening in hunting beaver and -wild ducks; so we put the saddles on and journeyed -slowly to Batiste’s paradise.</p> - -<p>Through many a devious path and tortuous way -did Batiste guide us, until his hunting-ground was -gained. On a knoll we made our camp; and -while Kalder remained to look after it, Batiste and -I sallied forth to hunt.</p> - -<p>Batiste’s gun was an excellent weapon, were it -not for a tendency to burst about the left barrel. -This was made observable by two or more ominous -bulges towards the centre of the piece; but -Batiste appeared to have unlimited confidence in -the integrity of his weapon, and explained that -these blemishes were only the result of his having -on two or three occasions placed a bullet over a -charge of shot, and then directed the united volley -against the person of a beaver. When loading -this gun, Batiste had a risky method of leaning it -against his chest while drawing a charge of shot -from his shot-bag. I pointed out to him that this -was not a safe method of loading, as it was quite -possible the other barrel might explode while the -gun thus rested against his side. It was true, he -said, for only last year the gun under similar -treatment had exploded, carrying away the brim -of his hat, and causing no slight alarm to the rest -of his person.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span></p> - -<p>Our success that afternoon was not great; -ducks and geese but lately arrived from the -peopled south were yet wild and wary, and had -not learned to look on man in any light save that -of an enemy; and altogether Batiste’s hunter’s -paradise did not justify his glowing accounts of it. -To do him justice, however, it must be stated that -the wet ground was literally ploughed up with -moose-tracks; and the golden willows lay broken -down and bruised by the many animals which had -browsed upon them during the winter.</p> - -<p>It was mid-day on the 24th of April when we -reached the banks of the Half-way River, whose -current, swollen by the melting snow, rolled swiftly -from the north, between banks piled high with -ice-floe. This was the first serious obstacle to the -journey, and as soon as dinner was over we set to -work to overcome it. From a neighbouring grove -of pines Kalder and Batiste got dry trees; half -a dozen of these lashed together formed the -groundwork of a raft. Three other pine-trees -tied on top completed the craft, and with a long -pole and a rough paddle, all fashioned by the axe, -the preparations were declared finished. This -craft was put together in a sheltered part of the -river; and when all was completed, the goods and -chattels were placed upon it. But one more piece -of work remained to be accomplished ere we set<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span> -sail upon our raft—the horses had to be crossed. -By dint of driving and shouting we forced them -across the boulders of ice into the water. It was -cold as ice, and they stood knee-deep, afraid to -venture farther. But Kalder was a very demon -when work had to be done. In an instant he was -across the ice-floe, and upon the back of one of the -horses; then with knees and hands and voice and -heels he urged the brute into the flood. The -horse reared and snorted and plunged, but Kalder -sat him like the half-breed that he was, and in -another second, horse and rider plunged wildly -into the torrent. Down they went out of sight, -and when they reappeared the horse was striking -out for the far shore, and Kalder was grappling -with the projecting ice. The other horses soon -followed their leader, and all four went swimming -down the current. Gradually the back eddy near -the farther shore caught them, and, touching -ground, they disappeared in the forest. Now -came our turn to cross. We towed the crazy raft -up the bordering ice, and, mooring her for a -moment in an eddy, took our places on the upper -logs. Scarcely had we put out from the shore -than the fastening gave way, and the whole fabric -threatened instant collapse. We got her back to -the eddy, repaired the damage, and once more put -out. Our weight and baggage sunk us down, so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span> -that the body of the raft was quite submerged, and -only the three trees on top showed above the -water; upon these we crouched. Old Batiste waved -a good-bye. Kalder was at the bow with a pole. -I worked a paddle on the stern. Once out of the -sheltering eddy, the current smote our unwieldy -platform, and away we went. Another instant -and the pole failed to reach the bottom. With -might and main I worked the paddle; down we -shot, and across; but ten yards down to every one -across. Would we save the eddy? that was the -question; for if we missed it, there was nought to -stay our wild career. Far as eye could reach, the -current ran wild and red. For an anxious minute -we rushed down the stream, and then the eddy -caught us, and we spun round like a teetotum. -“The other side!” roared Kalder; and to the other -side went the paddle to keep us in the eddy. Then -we headed for the shore; and, ere the current -could catch us again, Kalder was breast-deep in -the water, holding on with might and main to the -raft.</p> - -<p>We were across the Half-way River. To unload -the raft, build a fire, to dry our wet garments, -and shout good-bye to old Batiste, who stood on -an ice boulder, anxiously watching our fortunes -from the shore we had quitted, took us but a short -time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span></p> - -<p>The horses were captured and saddled, and, -ascending through tangled forest into a terraced -land of rich-rolling prairies, we pushed on briskly -towards the west.</p> - -<p>Thus, trotting through a park-like land of wood -and glade and meadow, where the jumping deer -glanced through the dry grass and trees, we -gradually drew near the Rocky Mountains. At -times the trail led up the steep face of the outer -hill to the plateau above, and then a rich view -would lie beneath—a view so vast with the -glories of the snowy range, and so filled with -nearer river and diamond-shaped island, that -many a time I drew rein upon some lofty standpoint -to look, as one looks upon things which we -would fain carry away into the memory of an after-time.</p> - -<p>About the middle of the afternoon of the 25th -of April we emerged from a wood of cypress upon -an open space, beneath which ran the Peace -River. At the opposite side a solitary wooden -house gave token of life in the wilderness. The -greater part of the river was still fast frozen, but -along the nearer shore ran a current of open -water. The solitary house was the Hope of -Hudson!</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_236" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Hudson’s Hope.—A lover of literature.—Crossing the Peace.—An -unskilful pilot.—We are upset.—Our rescue.—A -strange variety of arms.—The Buffalo’s Head.—A glorious -view.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Dismounting</span> from our tired horses, we loosened -saddles and bridles, hobbled the two fore-legs -together, and turned them adrift in the forest. -Then we <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cached</i> our baggage in the trees, -for wolves were plentiful around, and a grey -wolf has about as extensive a bill of fare in -the matter of man’s clothing and appointments -as any animal in creation, except perhaps a -monkey.</p> - -<p>In my early days, in Burmah and India I once -possessed a rare specimen of the last-named genus, -who, when he found the opportunity, beautifully -illustrated his descent from the lower orders of -man by devouring a three-volume novel in less -time than any young lady of the period could -possibly accomplish it. He never knew a moment’s -starvation as long as he had a photograph album<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span> -to appease his insatiable love of literature. But to -<span class="locked">proceed:—</span></p> - -<p>By the time we had <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cached</i> our baggage, two -men had come forth from the house on the other -side of the river, and started out upon the ice, -dragging a very small canoe; when they reached -the open water at our side, they launched their -craft and paddled across to the shore; then, ascending -the hill, they joined us at the cache.</p> - -<p>Their news was soon told; the river was open at -the west end of the portage (ten miles away). -Jacques Pardonet, a French miner, who had been -trapping during the winter, was about to start for -the mines on the Ominica River; he was now -patching up an old canoe which he had found -stranded on the shore, and when it was ready he -would be off: for the rest, no Indians had come in -for a very long time, and moose meat was at a -very low ebb in Hudson’s Hope.</p> - -<p>We descended to the river, and Kalder and -Charette (a half-breed in charge of the fort) -crossed first in the beaver canoe; it was much too -small to carry us all. When they had disembarked -safely on the ice, they fastened a long line to the -bow of the canoe and shoved her off to our side; -as she neared our shore she was caught by an -English miner who had been living with Charette -for some days, and whom I had engaged to accompany<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span> -me to the mines. He had declared himself -a proficient in the art of canoeing, and I was now -about to experience my first example of his -prowess.</p> - -<p>We took our places and shoved from the shore. -I lay low in the canoe, with legs stretched under -the narrow thwarts to steady her as much as -possible. I took in no baggage, but placed gun -and revolver in the bottom alongside of me. -Cerf-vola was to swim for himself.</p> - -<p>A——, the miner, took a paddle at the stern. -We had scarcely left the shore when the canoe -lurched quickly to one side, shipping water as she -did so. Then came another lurch on the other -side, and I knew all was over. I heard the men -on shore shouting to the miner to sit low—to -keep down in the canoe—but all was too late. -There came another lurch, a surge of water, and -we were over into the icy quick-running river. I -could not free myself from the thwarts which held -me like a vice; the water gurgled and rushed -around, about, and above me; and the horrid -sensation of powerlessness, which the sleeper -often experiences in a nightmare, came full upon -my waking senses.</p> - -<p>Of struggling I have but a faint recollection; -at such times one struggles with a wild instinct -that knows no rule or thought; but I vividly -recollect the prevalent idea of being held head -downwards in the icy current, in a grasp which -seemed as strong as that of death.</p> - -<div id="i_239" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 41em;"> - <img src="images/i_239.jpg" width="2567" height="1612" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">CLINGING TO THE CANOE.</div></div> - -<p>I remembered, too, without trouble, all the -surroundings of the scene; the bordering ice -which was close below us—for the channel of -water took a central course a little bit lower -down the river, and the ice lay on both sides of -it—while the current ran underneath as water -can only run when four feet of solid ice is pressing -upon it. Once under that ice and all was over -with us. How it came about I cannot tell, but all -at once I found myself free; I suppose one -struggle something wilder than the rest had set -me free, for long afterwards one of my legs bore -tokens of the fight. In another second I was on -the surface. I grasped the canoe, but it was round -as a log, and turned like a wheel in the water, -rolling me down each time, half-drowned as I -already was.</p> - -<p>My companion, the miner, had gone at once -clear of the canoe, and, catching her by the stern, -had held himself well above the water. One look -at Kalder and Charette on the ice told me they -were both utterly demoralized: Kalder had got -behind Charette, while the latter held the line -without well knowing what to do with it. Perhaps -it was better that he did so, as the line was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span> -miserably frail one, little better than a piece -of twine, and the weight upon it now in this -strong current was very great. Very slowly -Charette hauled in the line that held us to Mother -Earth; then Kalder recovered his presence of -mind, and flung a leathern line across the up-turned -canoe. I grasped it, and in another -instant the bark grated against the edge of the -ice. Numbed and frozen I drew myself on to the -canoe, then on to the crumbling ice along the -edge, and finally to the solid pack itself. Wet, -water-logged, numbed, and frozen, we made our -way across the ice to the shore. My gun and -revolver had vanished; they lay somewhere under -twenty feet of water.</p> - -<p>Thus, without arms, with watch feebly ticking—as -though endeavouring to paddle itself with its -hands through billows of water, with Aneroid -so elevated, I presume, at its escape from beneath -the water, that in a sudden revulsion of feeling it -indicated an amount of elevation above the sea -level totally inconsistent with anything short of -a Himalayan altitude, at which excited state it -continued to exist during the remainder of my -wandering—we reached the Hope of Hudson. -There never was truer saying than that when -things go to the worst they mend. When I had -changed my dripping clothes for a suit of Charette’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span> -Sunday finery, when Mrs. Charette had -got ready a cup of tea and a bit of moose steak, -and when the note-book, letters, and likenesses, -which one carries as relics of civilization into the -realms of savagery, had all been duly dried and -renovated, matters began to look a good deal -better.</p> - -<p>Early on the following morning Charette and -Kalder moored a couple of canoes in the open -water, and began to drag for the gun with a fish-hook -fastened to the end of a long pole; the gun -was in a leathern case, and an hour’s work resulted -in its recovery, none the worse for its submersion. -My ammunition was still safe, but as the supply -of it available for a breech-loader was limited, we -were on the whole badly off for arms. I armed -Kalder with a flint trading-gun—a weapon which, -when he had tried it at a mark, and then hammered -the barrel, first on one side then on the -other, he declared to be a good “beaver gun.” The -miner also possessed a gun, but as the hammer of -one barrel hung dangling gracefully down the -side, and as he possessed no percussion-caps for -the other barrel (a want he supplied by an -ingenious use of wax vestas), the striking of his -match conveyed a similar idea to the mind of any -bird or beast at whose person he presented the -muzzle; and while the gun was thinking about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span> -going off, the bird or beast had already made up -its mind to take a similar course.</p> - -<p>Now this matter of weapons was a serious item -in our affairs, for numerous are the delays and -mishaps of an up-river journey in the wild land -we were about to penetrate. Down stream all is -well; a raft can always be made that will run -from four to six miles an hour; but the best craft -that men can build will not go a mile an hour up-stream -on many parts of these rivers, and of this -up-river we had some 200 miles before us.</p> - -<p>On the 27th of April I set out from Hudson’s -Hope to cross the portage of ten miles, which -avoids the Great Cañon, at the farther end of -which the Peace River becomes navigable for a -canoe.</p> - -<p>We crossed the river once more at the scene of -our accident two days previously; but this time, -warned by experience, a large canoe was taken, -and we passed safely over to the north shore. It -took some time to hunt up the horses, and -mid-day had come before we finally got clear of -the Hope of Hudson.</p> - -<p>The portage trail curved up a steep hill of -800 or 900 feet; then on through sandy flats and -by small swamps, until, at some eight or nine miles -from the Hope of Hudson, the outer spurs of the -mountains begin to flank us on either side. To<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span> -the north a conspicuous ridge, called the Buffalo’s -Head, rises abruptly from the plain, some 3000 -feet above the pass; its rock summit promised a -wide view of mountain ranges on one side, and of -the great valley of the Peace River on the other. -It stood alone, the easternmost of all the ranges, -and the Cañon of the Peace River flowed round -it upon two sides, south and west.</p> - -<p>Months before, at the forks of the Athabasca -River, a man who had once wandered into these -wilds told me, in reply to a question of mine, that -there was one spot near the mouth of the Peace -River pass which commanded a wide range of -mountain and prairie. It was the Buffalo’s Head.</p> - -<p>Nine hundred miles had carried me now to that -spot. The afternoon was clear and fine; the great -range had not a cloud to darken the glare of the -sun upon its sheen of snow; and the pure cool air -came over the forest trees fresh from the thousand -billows of this sea of mountains. The two men -went on to the portage end; I gave them my -horse, and, turning at right angles into a wood, -made my way towards the foot of the Buffalo’s -Head.</p> - -<p>Thick with brulé and tangled forest lay the base -of the mountain; but this once passed, the steep -sides became clear of forest, and there rose -abruptly before me a mass of yellow grass and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span> -soft-blue anemones. Less than an hour’s hard -climbing brought me to the summit, and I was -a thousand times repaid for the labour of the -ascent.</p> - -<p>I stood on the bare rocks which formed the -frontlet of the Buffalo’s Head. Below, the pines -of a vast forest looked like the toy-trees which -children set up when Noah is put forth to watch the -animals emerging from his ark, and where everything -is in perfect order, save and except that perverse -pig, who will insist on lying upon his side in -consequence of a fractured leg, and who must -either be eliminated from the procession altogether, -or put in such close contact to Mrs. Noah, for the -sake of her support, as to detract very much from -the solemnity of the whole procession.</p> - -<p>Alas, how futile is it to endeavour to describe -such a view! Not more wooden are the ark -animals of our childhood, than the words in which -man would clothe the images of that higher -nature which the Almighty has graven into the -shapes of lonely mountains! Put down your -wooden woods bit by bit; throw in colour here, a -little shade there, touch it up with sky and cloud, -cast about it that perfume of blossom or breeze, -and in Heaven’s name what does it come to after -all? Can the eye wander away, away, away until -it is lost in blue distance as a lark is lost in blue<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span> -heaven, but the sight still drinks the beauty of -the landscape, though the source of the beauty be -unseen, as the source of the music which falls -from the azure depths of sky.</p> - -<p>That river coming out broad and glittering -from the dark mountains, and vanishing into yon -profound chasm with a roar which reaches up -even here—billowy seas of peaks and mountains -beyond number away there to south and west—that -huge half dome which lifts itself above all -others sharp and clear cut against the older dome -of heaven! Turn east, look out into that plain—that -endless plain where the pine-trees are -dwarfed to spear-grass and the prairie to a -meadow-patch—what do you see? Nothing, poor -blind reader, nothing, for the blind is leading the -blind; and all this boundless range of river and -plain, ridge and prairie, rocky precipice and snow-capped -sierra, is as much above my poor power of -words, as He who built this mighty nature is -higher still than all.</p> - -<p>Ah, my friend, my reader! Let us come down -from this mountain-top to our own small level -again. We will upset you in an ice-rapid; Kalder -will fire at you; we will be wrecked; we will -have no food; we will hunt the moose, and do -anything and everything you like,—but we cannot -put in words the things that we see from these<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span> -lonely mountain-tops when we climb them in the -sheen of evening. When you go into your church, -and the organ rolls and the solemn chant floats -through the lofty aisles, you do not ask your -neighbour to talk to you and tell you what it is -like. If he should do anything of the kind, the -beadle takes him and puts him out of doors, and -then the policeman takes him and puts him indoors, -and he is punished for his atrocious conduct; -and yet you expect me to tell you about -this church, whose pillars are the mountains, -whose roof is the heaven itself, whose music comes -from the harp-strings which the earth has laid -over her bosom, which we call pine-trees; and -from which the hand of the Unseen draws forth a -ceaseless symphony rolling ever around the world.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_247" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Jacques, the French miner.—A fearful abyss.—The Great -Cañon of the Peace River.—We are off on our western way.—Unfortunate -Indians.—A burnt baby.—The moose that -walks.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">It</span> was dusk when I reached the ruined hut which -stood at the western end of the portage. My -men had long preceded me, and Kalder had supper -ready before the great fireplace. The fire shed -its light upon a fourth figure; it was that of -Jacques, the French miner, five feet two inches in -height; miner, trapper, trader, and wanderer -since he left his home in Lorraine, near the war-famous -citadel of Belfort, some twenty years -ago.</p> - -<p>I brought one piece of news to the hut: it was -that although the river was free from ice opposite -our resting-place, and to the end of the reach in -view, yet it was fast closed in for the twenty or -thirty miles which my mountain climb had enabled -me to scan. So here in the midst of the mountains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span> -we awaited the disruption of the ice and the -opening of our watery way.</p> - -<p>The delay thus occasioned was unexpected, and -fell heavily on my supply of food; but rabbits -and partridges were numerous, and Kalder’s gun -proved itself to be a worthy weapon at these -denizens of the forest, as well as at the beaver. -On the evening of my arrival at the hut I had seen -two moose drinking on a sand-bar near the mouth -of the Cañon, but the river lay between me and -them, and we could find no further trace of them -on the following day.</p> - -<p>In one respect the delay was not irksome to me; -it gave me an opportunity of exploring a portion -of the Great Cañon, and forming some idea of -the nature of the difficulties and dangers which -made it an impassable chasm for the hardiest -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageurs</i>.</p> - -<p>On the 29th of April the ice in the upper part -of the river broke up, and came pouring down -with great violence for some hours; blocks of ice -many feet in thickness, and weighing several tons, -came down the broad river, crushing against each -other, and lining the shore with huge crystal -masses.</p> - -<p>The river rose rapidly, and long after dark the -grating of the ice-blocks in the broad channel -below told us that the break-up must be a general<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span> -one; the current before our hut was running -six miles an hour, and the ice had begun to run -early in the afternoon.</p> - -<p>All next day the ice continued to run at -intervals, but towards evening it grew less, and at -nightfall it had nearly ceased.</p> - -<p>During the day I set out to explore the Cañon. -Making my way along the edge of what was, in -ages past, the shore of a vast lake, I gained the -summit of a ridge which hung directly over the -Cañon. Through a mass of wrack and tangled -forest I held on, guided by the dull roar of waters -until I reached an open space, where a ledge of -rock dipped suddenly into the abyss: on the outer -edge of this rock a few spruce-trees sprung from -cleft and fissure, and from beneath, deep down in -the dark chasm, a roar of water floated up into -the day above. Advancing cautiously to the smooth -edge of the chasm, I took hold of a spruce-tree -and looked over. Below lay one of those grim -glimpses which the earth holds hidden, save from -the eagle and the mid-day sun. Caught in a dark -prison of stupendous cliffs (cliffs which hollowed -out beneath, so that the topmost ledge literally -hung over the boiling abyss of waters), the river -foamed and lashed against rock and precipice, -nine hundred feet below me. Like some caged -beast that finds escape impossible on one side, it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span> -flew as madly and as vainly against the other; -and then fell back in foam and roar and raging -whirlpool. The rocks at the base held the record -of its wrath in great trunks of trees, and blocks of -ice lying piled and smashed in shapeless ruin.</p> - -<p>Looking down the Cañon towards the south, a -great glen opened from the west; and the sun, now -getting low in the heavens, poured through this -valley a flood of light on red and grey walls of -rugged rock; while half the pine-clad hills lay dark -in shade, and half glowed golden in this level light; -and far away, beyond the shadowy chasm and the -sun-lit glen, one great mountain-peak lifted his -dazzling crest of snow high into the blue air of the -evening.</p> - -<p>There are many indications above the mouth of -the Cañon, that the valley in which our hut -stood was once a large lake. The beaches and -terrace levels are distinctly marked, but the barrier -fall was worn down into a rapid, and the Cañon -became a slant of water for some thirty miles. -At the entrance the rock is worn smooth and flat -in many places, and huge cisterns have been -hollowed in its surface—“kettles,” as the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> -calls them—perfectly round, and holding still the -granite boulder which had chiselled them, worn to -the size and roundness of a cannon-ball from ages -of revolution. Some of these kettles are tiny<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span> -as a tea-cup; others are huge as the tun of -Heidelberg.</p> - -<p>When I got back to the hut, night had fallen. -At the end of the long river-reach a new moon -hung in the orange-tinted west; the river was -almost clear of ice, and it was resolved to start on -the morrow.</p> - -<p>There was a certain amount of vagueness in -the programme before me. For seventy miles the -course was perfectly clear—there was, in fact, only -one road to follow—but at the end of that distance -two paths lay open, and circumstances could only -determine the future route at that point.</p> - -<p>If the reader will imagine an immense letter Y -laid longitudinally from west to east, he will have -a fair idea of the Peace River above the Cañon. -The tail of the Y will be the seventy miles of river -running directly through the main range of the -Rocky Mountains; the right arm will be the -Findlay, having its source 300 miles higher up in -that wilderness of mountains known as the -Stickeen; the left arm will be the Parsnip River, -sometimes called by mistake the Peace River, -having its source 260 miles to the south near the -waters of the upper Frazer. Countless lesser -streams (some of them, nevertheless, having their -200 miles of life) roll down into these main -systems; and it would seem as though the main<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span> -channel had, like a skilful general, united all its -widely-scattered forces at the forks, seventy miles -above us, before entering on the gigantic task of -piercing the vast barrier of the central mountains.</p> - -<p>Standing on the high ground at the back of -the hut in which we awaited the opening of the -great river, and looking westward at the mountains -piled together in endless masses, it was difficult -to imagine by what process a mighty river had -cloven asunder this wilderness of rock,—giving -us the singular spectacle of a wide, deep, tranquil -stream flowing through the principal mountain -range of the American continent.</p> - -<p>May-day broke in soft showers of rain; the -mountains were shrouded in mist; the breeze was -not strong enough to lift the gauze-like vapour -from the tree-tops on the south shore. By nine -o’clock the mists began to drift along the hill-sides; -stray peaks came forth through rifts, then -shut themselves up again; until finally the sun -drew off the vapours, and clad mountain and -valley in blue and gold.</p> - -<p>We loaded the canoe, closed the door of the -old shanty, and shoved off upon our western way. -There were four of us and one dog—two miners, my -half-breed Kalder, myself, and Cerf-vola. I had -arranged with Jacques to travel together, and I -made him captain of the boat. None knew better<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span> -the secrets of the Upper Peace River; for ten years -he had delved its waters with his paddle, and its -sand-bars with his miner’s shovel.</p> - -<p>Little Jacques—he was a curious specimen of -humanity, and well worth some study too. I have -already said that he was small, but that does not -convey any idea of his real size. I think he was -the smallest man I ever saw—of course I mean a -man, and not a dwarf; Jacques had nothing of -the dwarf about him—nay, he was a very giant in -skill and craft of paddle, and pluck and daring. -He had lived long upon his own resources, and -had found them equal to most emergencies.</p> - -<p>He could set his sails to every shift of fortune, -and make some headway in every wind. In -summer he hunted gold; in winter he hunted -furs. He had the largest head of thick bushy -hair I ever saw. He had drawn 3000 dollars’ -worth of pure gold out of a sand-pit on the -Ominica River during the preceding summer; he -had now a hundred fine marten-skins, the produce -of his winter’s trapping. Jacques was rich, but all -the same, Jacques must work. As I have said, -Jacques was a native of Belfort. Belfort had -proved a tough nut for Kaiser William’s legions; -and many a time as I watched this little giant -in times of peril, I thought that with 200,000 -little Jacqueses one could fight big Bismarck’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span> -beery battalions as often as they pleased. Of -course Jacques had a pair of miner’s boots. A -miner without a pair of miner’s boots would be -like Hamlet with Hamlet left out. When Jacques -donned these boots, and swung himself out on a -huge forest trunk prostrate in a rapid, and hewed -away at the giant to give our canoe a passage, he -looked for all the world like his prototype the -giant-killer, and the boots became the seven-leagued -friends of our early days.</p> - -<p>How the big axe flew about his little head, until -crash went the monster, and Jacques sprang back -to rock or boat as lively as a squirrel.</p> - -<p>He had many queer stories of early days, and -could recount with pride the history of the stirring -times he had seen. What miner’s heart does not -soften at the recollection, in these degenerate days, -of how the Vigilants hanged six roughs one morning -in the market-place of Frisco, just two-and-twenty -years ago?</p> - -<p>We poled and paddled along the shore of the -river; now on one side, now on the other, dodging -the heavy floes of ice which still came at intervals -along the current.</p> - -<p>In the evening we had gained a spot some twelve -miles from the hut, and we made our camp on a -wooded flat set in a wide amphitheatre of hills. -The next morning broke wet and stormy, and we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span> -lay in camp during the early part of the day. -Towards mid-day the silence was broken by the -discharge of a gun at the opposite side of the -river. We at once answered it, and soon another -report replied to ours. There were Indians in the -vicinity, so we might expect a visit. About an -hour later a most wretched group appeared at our -camp. It consisted of two half-clad women, one -of whom carried a baby on her back; a wild-looking -boy, apparently about twelve or fourteen -years of age, led the way, carrying an old gun; -two dogs brought up the rear. A glance at the -dogs showed that food, at least, was plentiful in -the Indian camp—they were fat and sleek. If an -Indian has a fat dog, you may know that game is -abundant; if the dog is thin, food is scarce; if -there be no dog at all, the Indian is starving, -and the dog has been killed and eaten by his -master. But to <span class="locked">proceed:—</span></p> - -<p>In a network of tattered blankets and dripping -rags, these three wretched creatures stalked into -our camp; they were as wet as if they had come -underneath the river instead of across it; but that -seemed to give them little thought. Jacques -understood a few words of what they said, and -the rest was made out by signs;—all the men -were sick, and had been sick for months. This -boy and another were alone able to hunt; but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span> -moose were plenty, and starvation had not come -to supplement sickness; the women were “packing” -the men.</p> - -<p>Reader, what do you imagine that means? I -will soon tell you. It means that when the camp -moves—which it does every few days, as the game -gets hunted away from one locality—the women -carried the men on their backs in addition to the -household gods. Literally these poor women -carried on their bent backs the house, the -clothes, the food, the baby, and the baby’s father.</p> - -<p>What was the disease? They could not tell.</p> - -<p>My slender stock of drugs was long since -exhausted; I had nothing left but the pain-killer. -I gave them half of my last bottle, and had it been -the golden wealth of the sand-bars of this Peace -River itself, it could not have been more thought -of. To add to their misfortunes, the baby had -come to grief about a week previously—it had -tumbled head foremost into the fire. It was now -unslung from its mother’s back for my inspection. -Poor little Beaver! its face and head had got a -dreadful burning; but, thanks to mountain air and -Indian hardiness, it was getting all right.</p> - -<p>Had I anything to rub on it? A little of the -Mal de Raquette porpoise-oil and pain-killer yet -remained, and with such an antidote the youthful -Beaver might henceforth live in the camp-fire.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span></p> - -<p>I know some excellent Christians at home who -occasionally bestow a shilling or a half-crown upon -a poor man at a church-door or a street-crossing, -not for the humanity of the act, but just to purchase -that amount of heaven in the next world. I -believe they could tell you to a farthing how much -of Paradise they had purchased last week or the -week before. I am not sure that they are quite -clear as to whether the quantity of heaven thus -purchased, is regulated by the value set on the gift -by the beggar or by the rich man; but if it be by -the value placed on it by him who gets it, think, -my Christian friends, think what a field for investment -does not this wilderness present to you. -Your shilling spent here amongst these Indians -will be rated by them at more than its weight in -gold; and a pennyworth of pain-killer might -purchase you a perpetuity of Paradise.</p> - -<p>Jacques, an adept in Indian trade, got a large -measure of dried moose meat in exchange for a -few plugs of tobacco; and the Indians went away -wet, but happy.</p> - -<p>One word more about Indians—and I mean to -make it a long word and a strong word, and perhaps -my reader will add, a wrong word; but never -mind, it is meant the other way.</p> - -<p>This portion of the Beaver tribe trade to Hudson’s -Hope, the fort we have but lately quitted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span></p> - -<p>Here is the story of a trade made last summer -by “the moose that walks.”</p> - -<p>“The moose that walks” arrived at Hudson’s -Hope early in the spring. He was sorely in want -of gunpowder and shot, for it was the season when -the beaver leave their winter houses, and when it -is easy to shoot them. So he carried his thirty -marten-skins to the fort, to barter them for shot, -powder, and tobacco.</p> - -<p>There was no person at the Hope. The dwelling-house -was closed, the store shut up, the man -in charge had not yet come up from St. John’s; -now what was to be done? Inside that wooden -house lay piles and piles of all that the walking -moose most needed; there was a whole keg of -powder; there were bags of shot and tobacco—there -was as much as the moose could smoke in -his whole life.</p> - -<p>Through a rent in the parchment window the -moose looked at all these wonderful things, and at -the red flannel shirts, and at the four flint guns, -and the spotted cotton handkerchiefs, each worth -a sable skin at one end of the fur trade, half a -sixpence at the other. There was tea, too—tea, -that magic medicine before which life’s cares -vanished like snow in spring sunshine.</p> - -<p>The moose sat down to think about all these -things, but thinking only made matters worse.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span> -He was short of ammunition, therefore he had -no food, and to think of food when one is very -hungry is an unsatisfactory business. It is true -that “the moose that walks” had only to walk in -through that parchment window, and help himself -till he was tired. But no, that would not do.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” my Christian friend will exclaim, “Ah! -yes, the poor Indian had known the good missionary, -and had learnt the lesson of honesty and -respect for his neighbour’s property.”</p> - -<p>Yes; he had learnt the lesson of honesty, but -his teacher, my friend, had been other than human. -The good missionary had never reached the Hope -of Hudson, nor improved the morals of “the -moose that walks.”</p> - -<p>But let us go on.</p> - -<p>After waiting two days he determined to set off -for St. John, two full days’ travel. He set out, -but his heart failed him, and he turned back again.</p> - -<p>At last, on the fourth day he entered the parchment -window, leaving outside his comrade, to whom -he jealously denied admittance. Then he took -from the cask of powder three skins’ worth, from -the tobacco four skins’ worth, from the shot the -same; and sticking the requisite number of martens -in the powder-barrel and the shot-bag and -the tobacco-case, he hung up his remaining skins -on a nail to the credit of his account, and departed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span> -from this El Dorado, this Bank of England of the -Red man in the wilderness, this Hunt and Roskell -of Peace River.</p> - -<p>And when it was all over he went his way, -thinking he had done a very reprehensible act, -and one by no means to be proud of. Poor moose -that walks! in this trade for skins you are but a -small item!</p> - -<p>Society muffles itself in your toil-won sables in -distant cities, while you starve and die out in the -wilderness.</p> - -<p>The credit of your twenty skins, hung to the -rafter of Hudson’s Hope, is not a large one; but -surely there is a Hope somewhere else, where your -account is kept in golden letters, even though -nothing but the clouds had baptized you, no missionary -had cast water on your head, and God -only knows who taught you to be honest.</p> - -<p>Let me not be misunderstood in this matter. -I believe, gentlemen missionaries, you mean -well by this Indian. I will go further; you -form, I think, almost the only class who would -deal fairly by him, but you go to work in a wrong -direction; your mode of proceeding is a mistake. -If you would only be a little more human, and a -little less divine—if you would study the necessities -of the savage races amidst whom you have -cast your lot—what good might ye not effect?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span></p> - -<p>This Cree, this Blackfoot, this Chipewyan, this -Beaver—what odds is it, in the name of all goodness, -whether he fully understands the numbered -or unnumbered things you tell him. Teach him -the simple creed which you would teach a child. -He is starving, and the feast you give him is of -delicate and subtle food, long since compounded -from the brain of schoolman and classicist. He -is naked, and you would clothe him in mysterious -raiment and fine tissue, which time has woven out -of the webs of doubt and inquiry. All this will -not warm him from the terrible blast of winter, or -shelter him from the drenching rains of early -summer. He has many faults, some virtues, innumerable -wants. Begin with these. Preach -against the first; cultivate the second; relieve -as much as possible the third. Make him a good -man before you attempt to make him an indifferent -Christian. In a word, do more for his -body; and after a bit, when you have taught him -to help his wife in toil and trouble—to build -a house and to live in it—to plant a few potatoes -when the ground thaws, and to hoe them out ere -it hardens again—when you have loosed the -bands of starvation, nakedness, and hardship from -the grasp in which they now hold him, then will -come the moment for your books and your higher -teaching. And in his hut, with a well-filled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span> -stomach, he will have time to sift truth from falsehood, -amidst all the isms and arians under the -guise of which you come to teach him. But just -now he is only a proletarian and an open-arian, -and not much even of these. Meantime I know that -you wish well by him. You are ready to teach -him—to tell him about a host of good, and some -very indifferent, persons; but lo! in the middle -of your homilies he falls asleep, and his sleep -is the sleep of death. He starves and dies out -before you. Of course I know the old old answer: -“He is hopeless; we have tried everything; we -can do nothing.” How often have I not been -told, “He is hopeless; we can do nothing for -this Red man!” But will any person dare to -say that men such as this Indian at Hudson’s -Hope are beyond the cure of man? If they be, -then your creed must be a poor weak thing.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_263" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>Still westward.—The dangers of the ice.—We enter the main -range.—In the mountains.—A grizzly.—Tho death of the -moose.—Peace River Pass.—Pete Toy.—The Ominica.—“Travellers” -at home.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">We</span> held our way up the river, fighting many a -battle with the current. Round the points the -stream ran strong, and our canoe was a big, -lumbering affair, hollowed out of a single cotton-wood -tree by Jacques, years before on the Fraser -River, and ill-adapted to the ice, which was our -most dangerous enemy. Many a near shave we -had of being crushed under its heavy floes as we -coasted along beneath their impending masses. -When the river breaks up, portions of it stronger -than the rest remain still frozen. At the back of -these the floating ice jams, and the river rises -rapidly behind the barrier thus flung across it. -Then the pack gives way, and the pent-up waters -rapidly lower. But along the shore, on either -side, the huge blocks of ice lie stranded, heaped -one upon another, and the water, still falling,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span> -brushes off from beneath the projecting pieces, -leaving a steep wall of ice, sometimes twenty and -thirty feet, brightly rising above the water. Along -these impending masses we had to steer our canoe, -and hazardous work it was, for every now and -again some huge fragment, many tons in weight, -would slide from its high resting-place, and crash -into the river with a roar of thunder, driving the -billows before it half-way across the wide river, -and making our hearts jump half as much -again.</p> - -<p>At one point where the river ran with unusual -velocity we battled long beneath a very high ice-wall. -Once or twice the current carried us against -its sides. We dared not touch it with our poles, -for it hung by a thread, so far did its summit -project over our heads.</p> - -<p>Gently we stole our way up from beneath it, -and were still within thirty yards of it when the -great boulder, looming high, crashed into the river.</p> - -<p>On the fourth day we got clear of this shore -ice, and drew near the main range of the mountains. -But there was one important question -which experience soon told me there was no cause -for anxiety about—it was the question of food.</p> - -<p>Game was abundant; the lower hills were -thickly stocked with blue grouse—a noble bird, -weighing between three and four pounds.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span></p> - -<p>The bays of the river held beaver, swimming -through the driftwood, and ere we had reached -the mountain gate a moose had fallen to my -trusty smooth-bore, in one of the grassy glens -between the river and the snowy range. It was -literally a hunter’s paradise. This was the worst -time of the year, except for beaver, but necessity -knows no game law, and the wilderness at all -times must feed its wanderers.</p> - -<p>We usually camped a couple of hours before -sun-down, for in this northern land the daylight -was more than long enough to stiffen our -shoulders, and make our arms ache from pole or -paddle. Then came the time to stretch one’s legs -over these great grassy uplands, so steep, yet so -free of rock; so full of projecting point and lofty -promontory, beneath which the river lay in long -silvery reaches, while around on every side the -mountains in masses of rock and snow, lay like -giant sentinels, guarding the great road which -Nature had hewn through their midst.</p> - -<p>At the entrance to the main range, the valley of -the river is about two miles wide. The river -itself preserves its general width of 250 to 300 -yards with singular uniformity. The reaches are -from one to three miles in length, the banks are -dry, the lower beaches are level and well wooded, -and the current becomes deeper and less rapid.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span></p> - -<p>On the 8th of May we reached, early in the -morning, the entrance to the main range. A short -rapid marks it, a rapid easy to run at all stages of -water, and up which we towed our canoe, carrying -the more perishable articles to save them from the -spray—a precaution which was, however, not -necessary, as no water was shipped.</p> - -<p>We were now in the mountains. From the low -terrace along the shore they rose in stupendous -masses; their lower ridges clothed in forests of -huge spruce, poplar, and birch; their middle -heights covered in dense thickets of spruce -alone; their summits cut into a thousand varied -peaks, bare of all vegetation, but bearing aloft into -the sunshine 8000 feet above us the glittering -crowns of snow which, when evening stilled the -breezes, shone reflected in the quiet waters, vast -and motionless.</p> - -<p>Wonderful things to look at are these white -peaks, perched up so high above our world. They -belong to us, yet they are not of us. The eagle links -them to the earth; the cloud carries to them the -message of the sky; the ocean sends them her -tempest; the air rolls her thunders beneath their -brows, and launches her lightnings from their -sides; the sun sends them his first greeting, and -leaves them his latest kiss. Yet motionless they -keep their crowns of snow, their glacier crests of -jewels, and dwell among the stars heedless of time -or tempest.</p> - -<div id="i_266" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_266.jpg" width="2544" height="1582" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">MOUNT GARNET WOLSELEY AND THE PEACE RIVER.</div></div> - -<p>For two days we journeyed through this vast -valley, along a wide, beautiful river, tranquil as a -lake, and bearing on its bosom, at intervals, small -isles of green forest. Now and again a beaver -rippled the placid surface, or a bear appeared upon -a rocky point for a moment, looked at the strange -lonely craft, stretched out his long snout to sniff -the gale, and then vanished in the forest shore. -For the rest all was stillness; forest, isle, river -and mountain—all seemed to sleep in unending -loneliness; and our poles grating against the -rocky shore, or a shot at some quick-diving beaver, -alone broke the silence; while the echo, dying away -in the vast mountain cañons, made the relapsing -silence seem more intense.</p> - -<p>Thus we journeyed on. On the evening of the -8th of May we emerged from the pass, and saw -beyond the extremity of a long reach of river a -mountain range running north and south, distant -about thirty miles from us. To the right and left -the Rocky Mountains opened out, leaving the river -to follow its course through a long forest valley of -considerable width.</p> - -<p>We had passed the Rocky Mountains, and the -range before us was the central mountain system -of North British Columbia.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span></p> - -<p>It was a very beautiful evening; the tops of the -birch-trees were already showing their light green -leaves amidst the dark foliage of the spruce and -firs.</p> - -<p>Along the shore, where we landed, the tracks of -a very large grizzly bear were imprinted freshly -in the sand. I put a couple of bullets into my -gun and started up the river, with Cerf-vola for -a companion. I had got about a mile from the -camp when, a few hundred yards ahead, a large -dark animal emerged from the forest, and made -his way through some lower brushwood towards -the river. Could it be the grizzly? I lay down -on the sand-bank, and pulled the dog down beside -me. The large black animal walked out upon the -sand-bar two or three hundred yards above me. -He proved to be a moose on his way to swim the -river to the south shore. I lay still until he had got -so far on his way that return to the forest would -have been impracticable; then I sprang to my feet -and ran towards him. What a spring he gave -across the sand and down into the water! Making -an allowance for the force of the current, I ran -towards the shore. It was a couple of hundred -yards from me, and when I gained it the moose -was already three-parts across the river, almost -abreast where I stood, swimming for his very life, -with his huge unshapen head thrust out along the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span> -surface, the ears thrown forward, while the large -ripples rolled from before his chest as he clove his -way through the water.</p> - -<p>It was a long shot for a rifle, doubly so for a -smooth-bore; but old experience in many lands, -where the smooth-bore holds its own despite all -other weapons, had told me that when you do get -a gun to throw a bullet well, you may rely upon it -for distances supposed to be far beyond the possibilities -of such a weapon; so, in a tenth of the -time it has taken me to say all this, I gave the -moose the right barrel, aiming just about his long -ears. There was a single plunge in the water; -the giant head went down, and all was quiet. And -now to secure the quarry. Away down stream he -floated, showing only one small black speck above -the surface; he was near the far side, too. Running -down shore I came within calling-distance of -the camp, from which the smoke of Kalder’s fire -was already curling above the tree-tops. Out came -Kalder, Jacques, and A——. Of course it was a -grizzly, and all the broken flint-guns of the party -were suddenly called into requisition. If it had been -a grizzly, and that I had been retiring before him -in skirmishing order, gods! what a support I was -falling back upon! A——‘s gun is already familiar -to the reader; Kalder’s beaver-gun went off about -one shot in three; and Jacques possessed a weapon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span> -(it had been discarded by an Indian, and Jacques -had resuscitated it out of the store of all trades -which he possessed an inkling of) the most extraordinary -I had ever seen. Jacques always spoke of -it in the feminine gender. “She was a good gun, -except that a trifle too much of the powder came -out the wrong way. He would back her to shoot -‘plum’ if she would only go off after a reasonable -lapse of time, but it was tiring to him to keep her -to the shoulder for a couple of minutes after he -had pulled her trigger, and then to have her go off -when he was thinking of pulling the gun-coat over -her again.” When she was put away in the canoe, -it was always a matter of some moment to place -her so that in the event of any sudden explosion -of her pent-up wrath, she might discharge herself -harmlessly along the river, and on this account -she generally lay like a stern-chaser projecting -from behind Jacques, and endangering only his -paddle.</p> - -<p>All these maimed and mutilated weapons were -now brought forth, and such a loading and priming -and hammering began, that, had it really been -a grizzly, he must have been utterly scared out of -all semblance of attack.</p> - -<p>Kalder now mastered the position of affairs, and -like an arrow he and Jacques were into the canoe, -and out after the dead moose. They soon overhauled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span> -him, and, slipping a line over the young -antlers, towed him to the shore. We were unable -to lift him altogether out of the water, so we cut -him up as he lay, stranded like a whale.</p> - -<div id="i_271" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i_271.jpg" width="1644" height="2538" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">CUTTING UP THE MOOSE.</div></div> - -<p>Directly opposite a huge cone mountain rose up -some eight or nine thousand feet above us, and -just ere evening fell over the scene, his topmost -peak, glowing white in the sunlight, became -mirror’d in most faithful semblance in the clear -quiet river, while the life-stream of the moose -flowed out over the tranquil surface, dyeing the -nearer waters into brilliant crimson.</p> - -<p>If some painter in the exuberance of his genius -had put upon canvas such a strange contrast -of colours, people would have said it is not true -to nature; but nature has many truths, and it -takes many a long day, and not a few years’ toil, -to catch a tenth of them. And, my dear friend -with the eye-glass—you who know all about -nature in a gallery and with a catalogue—you may -take my word for it.</p> - -<p>And now, ere quitting, probably for ever, this -grand Peace River Pass—this immense valley -which receives in its bosom so many other valleys, -into whose depths I only caught a moment’s -glimpse as we floated by their outlets—let me say -one other word about it.</p> - -<p>Since I left the Wild North Land, it has been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span> -my lot to visit the chief points of interest in -Oregon, California, the Vale of Shasta, and the -Yosemite. Shasta is a loftier mountain than any -that frown above the Peace River Pass. Yosemite -can boast its half-dozen waterfalls, trickling -down their thousand feet of rock; but for wild -beauty, for the singular spectacle of a great river -flowing tranquilly through a stupendous mountain -range,—these mountains presenting at every reach -a hundred varied aspects,—not the dizzy glory of -Shasta nor the rampart precipices of Yosemite -can vie with that lonely gorge far away on the -great Unchagah.</p> - -<p>On the 9th of May we reached the Forks of the -river, where the two main streams of the Parsnip -and the Findlay came together. A couple of -miles from their junction a second small rapid -occurs; but, like the first one, it can be run without -difficulty.</p> - -<p>Around the point of junction the country is low -and marshy, and when we turned into the Findlay, -it was easy to perceive from the colour of the -water that the river was rising rapidly.</p> - -<p>Some miles above the Forks there is a solitary -hut on the south bank of the river. In this hut -dwelt Pete Toy, a miner of vast repute in the -northern mining country.</p> - -<p>Some ten years ago Pete had paddled his canoe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span> -into these lonely waters. As he went, he prospected -the various bars. Suddenly he struck -one of surpassing richness. It yielded one dollar -to the bucket, or one hundred dollars a day to a -man’s work. Pete was astonished; he laid up -his canoe, built this hut, and claimed the bar as -his property. For a long time it yielded a steady -return; but even gold has a limit—the bar became -exhausted. Where had all his gold come from?</p> - -<p>Ah, that is the question! Even to-day, though -the bank has been washed year after year, “it is -still rich in colour;” but the “pay-dirt” lies too -far from the water’s edge, hence the labour is too -great.</p> - -<p>Well, Pete, the Cornish miner, built his hut -and took out his gold; but that did not satisfy -him. What miner ever yet was satisfied? Pete -went in for fifty things; he traded with the -Indians, he trapped, he took an Indian wife; yet, -through all, he maintained a character for being -as honest and as straightforward a miner as ever -found “a colour” from Mexico to Cariboo.</p> - -<p>My little friend Jacques expected to meet his -old brother miner Pete at his hut; but, as we -came within five miles of it, a beaver swam across -the river. We all fired at him, and when the -smoke had vanished, I heard Jacques mutter, -“Pete’s not hereabouts, or that fellow wouldn’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span> -be there.” He was right, for, when we reached -the hut an hour later, we found a notice on the -door, saying that Pete and two friends had departed -for the Ominica just six days earlier, being -totally out of all food, and having only their guns -to rely upon. Now this fact of Pete’s absence -rendered necessary new arrangements, for here -the two courses I have already alluded to lay -open—either to turn south, along the Parsnip; or -north and west, along the Findlay and Ominica.</p> - -<p>The current of the Parsnip is regular; that of -the Ominica is wild and rapid. But the Parsnip -was already rising, and at its spring level it is -almost an impossibility to ascend it, owing to its -great depth; while the Ominica, though difficult -and dangerous in its cañons, is nevertheless possible -of ascent, even in its worst stage of water.</p> - -<p>I talked the matter over with Jacques, as we sat -camped on the gold-bar opposite Pete Toy’s house. -Fortunately we had ample supplies of meat; but -some luxuries, such as tea and sugar, were getting -dangerously low, and flour was almost exhausted. -I decided upon trying the Ominica.</p> - -<p>About noon, on the 10th of May, we set out -for the Ominica, with high hopes of finding the -river still low enough to allow us to ascend it.</p> - -<p>Ten miles above Toy’s hut the Ominica enters -the Peace River from the south-west. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span> -reached its mouth on the morning of the 11th, -and found it high and rapid. There was hard -work in store for us, and the difficulties of passing -the Great Cañon loomed ominously big. We -pushed on, however, and that night reached a -spot where the river issued from a large gap in a -high wall of dark rock. Above, on the summit -of this rock, pine-trees projected over the river. -We were at the door of the Ominica cañon. The -warm weather of last week had done its work, -and the water rushed from the gate of the cañon -in a wild and impetuous torrent. We looked a -moment at the grim gate which we had to storm -on the morrow, and then put in to the north -shore, where, under broad and lofty pines, we -made our beds for the night.</p> - -<p>The Findlay River, as it is called, after the fur-trader, -who first ascended it, has many large -tributaries. It is something like a huge right -hand spread out over the country, of which the -middle finger would be the main river, and the -thumb the Ominica. There is the North Fork, -which closely hugs the main Rocky Mountain -range. There is the Findlay itself, a magnificent -river, flowing from a vast labyrinth of mountains, -and being unchanged in size or apparent volume, -120 miles above the Forks we had lately left. At -that distance it issues from a cañon similar to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span> -that at whose mouth we are now camped; and -there is the second South Fork, a river something -smaller than the Ominica, from whose mouth it is -distant about a hundred miles.</p> - -<p>Of these rivers nothing is known. These few -items are the result of chance information picked -up from the solitary miner who penetrated to -this cañon’s mouth, and from the reports which a -wandering band of Sickanies give of the vast -unknown interior of the region of the Stickeen. -And yet it is all British territory. It abounds with -game; its scenery is as wild as mountain peak and -gloomy cañon can make it; it is free from fever or -malaria. In it Nature has locked up some of her -richest treasures—treasures which are open to -any strong, stout heart who will venture to grasp -them.</p> - -<p>I know not how it is, but sometimes it seems to -me that this England of ours is living on a bygone -reputation; the sinew is there without the -soul!</p> - -<p>It is so easy to be a traveller in an easy chair—to -lay out a map and run one’s finger over it and -say, “This river is the true source of the Hunky-dorum, -and that lake finds its outlet in the -Rumtifoozle;” and it is equally easy, particularly -after our comfortable dinner at the club, to stroll -over to the meeting of the Society for the Preservation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span> -of Sticklebacks in Tahitian Seas, and to -prove to the fashionable audience there assembled, -that a stickleback was the original progenitor of -the human race.</p> - -<p>Our modern Briton can be a traveller without -any trouble. He is a member of “the Club,” -and on the strength of his membership he can -criticize “that fellow Burton,” or “that queer fish -Palgrave,” and prove to you how, if that “poor -devil” Hayward had tried the Chittral Pass instead -of the Palmirsteppe, “he would never have -come to grief, you know.”</p> - -<p>I know one or two excellent idiots, who fancy -they are wits because they belong to the Garrick. -It is quite as easy to be a traveller by simply -belonging to a Travellers’ Club.</p> - -<p>Now all this would be a very harmless pastime, -if something more serious did not lie behind it; -just as the mania to dress ourselves in uniform -and carry a rifle through the streets, would also -be a very harmless, if a very useless, pastime, if a -graver question did not again lie hidden beneath -“our noble Volunteers;” but the club traveller -and the club soldier are not content with the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> -of lounging mediocrity for which nature destined -them. They must needs stand between the spirit of -England’s better genius, and England’s real toilers -of the wilds. They must supervise and criticize<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span> -and catechize, and generally play the part of Fuz-buz -to the detriment of everything which redounds -to the true spirit of England’s honour in the fair -field of travel and discovery.</p> - -<p>Let there be no mistake in this matter. To those -veterans who still stand above the waves of time, -living monuments of England’s heroism, in Arctic -ice or Africa’s sun, we owe all honour and love -and veneration. They are the old soldiers of -an army, passed from the world, and when Time -sums up the record of their service here below, -it will be but to hand up the roll to the Tribunal -of the Future.</p> - -<p>But it is of the younger race of whom we would -speak—that race who buy with gold the right to -determine what England shall do, and shall not -do, in the wide field of geographical research; who -are responsible for the wretched exploratory -failures of the past few years; who have allowed the -palm of discovery and enterprise to pass away to -other nations, or to alien sons. But if we were -to say all we think about this matter, we might -only tire the reader, and stop until doomsday at -the mouth of this Black Cañon of the Ominica.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_279" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Black Cañon.—An ugly prospect.—The vanished boat.—We -struggle on.—A forlorn hope.—We fail again.—An -unhoped for meeting and a feast of joy.—The Black Cañon -conquered.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Casting</span> off from camp, on the morning of -the 12th, we pushed right into the mouth of the -cañon. At once our troubles began. The steep -walls of smooth rock rose directly out of the -water—sometimes washed by a torrent, at others -beaten by a back-whirl and foaming eddy. In the -centre ran a rush of water that nothing could -stem. Poling, paddling, clinging with hands and -nails to the rock; often beaten back and always -edging up again, we crept slowly along under the -overhanging cliff, which leaned out two hundred -feet above us to hold upon its dizzy verge some -clinging pine-tree. In the centre of the chasm, -about half a mile from its mouth, a wild cataract -of foam forbade our passage; but after a whole -morning’s labour we succeeded in bringing the -canoe safely to the foot of this rapid, and moored -her in a quiet eddy behind a sheltering rock. Here<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> -we unloaded, and, clambering up a cleft in the -cañon wall two hundred feet above us, passed -along the top of the cliff, and bore our loads to the -upper or western end of the cañon, fully a mile -from the boat. The day was hot and sweltering, -and it was hard work.</p> - -<p>In one of these many migrations between camp -and canoe, it chanced one evening that, missing the -trail, my footsteps led me to the base of a small -knoll, the sides and summit of which were destitute -of trees. Climbing to the top of this hill I -beheld a view of extraordinary beauty. Over the -sea of forest, from the dark green and light green -ocean of tree-tops, the solid mountain mass lay -piled against the east. Below my standpoint the -first long reach of the cañon opened out; a grim -fissure in the forest, in the depths of which the -waters caught the reflection of the sun-lit skies -above, glowing brightly between the walls of -gloomy rock deep hidden beneath the level rays of -the setting sun. I stood high above the cañon, -high above the vast forest which stretched between -me and the mountains; and the eye, as it wandered -over the tranquil ocean upon whose waves -the isles of light green shade lay gold-crested in -the sunset, seemed to rest upon fresh intervals of -beauty, until the solid ramparts rent and pinnacled, -silent and impassive, caught and rivetted its glance;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span> -as their snow-white, motionless fingers, carved -in characters that ever last, the story of earth’s -loveliness upon the great blue dome of heaven.</p> - -<p>We pushed through the dense underwood, loaded -down with all the paraphernalia of our travel, and -even Cerf-vola carried his load of boots and moose-meat. -When we had finished carrying our loads, it -was time for dinner; and that over, we set to work -at once for the stiffer labour of hauling the canoe -up the rapid of the cañon; for, remember, there -was no hope of lifting her, she was too heavy, and -the rocky walls were far too steep to allow of it. -Up along shore, through rapid and eddy we dragged -our craft, for here the north side had along its base -ledges of rock and bits of shore, and taking advantage -of these, sometimes in the canoe and sometimes -out of it in the water, we reached at length -the last edge or cliff round which it was possible -to proceed at the north shore.</p> - -<p>For a long time we examined the spot, and -the surrounding cañon. Jacques and I climbed -up to the top above, and then down on hands -and knees to a ledge from which we could -look over into the chasm, and scan its ugly -features. Beyond a doubt it was ugly—the rock -on which we lay hollowed down beneath us -until it roofed the shore of the cañon with a half -cavern, against which a wild whirlpool boiled up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span> -now and again, sinking suddenly into stillness. -Even if we could stretch a line from above the -rock to where our canoe lay below it, she must -have been knocked to atoms in the whirlpool -in her passage beneath the cavern; but the distance -was too great to stretch a line across. The -next and only course was to make a bold crossing -from below the rock, and gain the other shore, up -which it was possible to drag our canoe. Once -over, the thing would be easy enough for at least a -couple of hundred yards more.</p> - -<p>We climbed back to the canoe and imparted -the result of our investigation to the other two -men. From the level of the boat the proposed -crossing looked very nasty. It was across a -wild rush of water, in the centre of the cañon, -and if we failed to make a small eddy at the -farther shore we must drive full upon the precipice -of rock where, below us boiled and seethed -the worst rapid in the cañon—a mass of wave, -and foam, and maddened surge. Once out of -the sheltering eddy in which we lay watching -this wild scene, we would be in the midst of the -rush close above the rapid. There was no time to -get headway on the canoe. It would shoot from -shelter into furious current, and then, if it missed -yon little eddy, look out; and if you have any good -angels away at home, pray that they may be praying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span> -for you—for down that white fall of water -you must go broadside or stern on.</p> - -<div id="i_283" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_283.jpg" width="2546" height="1576" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">RUNNING STERN FOREMOST THE BLACK CAÑON.</div></div> - -<p>The more we looked at it, the less we liked it; -but it was the sole means of passing the cañon, -and retreat came not yet into our heads. We -took our places—Kalder at the bow, Jacques at the -stern, A—— and I in the middle; then we hugged -the rock for the last time, and shoved out into the -swirl of waters. There was no time to think; -we rose and fell; we dipped our paddles in the -rushing waves with those wild quick strokes -which men use when life is in the blow; and -then the cañon swung and rocked for a second, -and with a wild yell of Indian war-whoop from -Kalder, which rose above the rush of the water, -we were in the eddy at the farther shore.</p> - -<p>It was well done. On again up the cañon with -line from rock to rock, bit by bit, until, as the sun -began to slope low upon the forest, we reach the -foot of the last fall—the stiffest we had yet -breasted. Above it lies our camp upon the -north shore; above it will be easy work—we -will have passed the worst of the Ominica -River.</p> - -<p>Made bold by former victory we passed our line -round the rock, and bent our shoulders to haul -the canoe up the slant of water. Kalder with a -long pole held the frail craft out from the rock.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span> -A—— and I were on the line, and Jacques was -running up to assist us, when suddenly there came -upon the rope a fierce strain; all at once the -canoe seemed to have the strength of half a dozen -runaway horses. It spun us round, we threw all -our strength against it, and snap went the rope -midway over the water; the boat had suddenly -sheered, and all was over. We had a second line -fastened to the bow; this line was held by Kalder -at the moment of the accident, but it was in loose -coils about him, and of no service to stay the -downward rush. Worse than all, the canoe, now -going like an arrow down the rapid, tightened the -tangled coils around Kalder’s legs, and I saw with -horror that he ran every chance of being dragged -feet foremost from the smooth rock on which he -stood, into the boiling torrent beneath.</p> - -<p>Quicker than thought he realized his peril; he -sprang from the treacherous folds, and dragged -with all his strength the quick-running rope clear of -his body; and then, like the Indian he was, threw -all his weight to stay the canoe.</p> - -<p>It was useless; his line snapped like ours had -done, and away went the canoe down the surge of -water—down the lip of the fall—away, away—bearing -with her our sole means of travel through -the trackless wilderness! We crouched together on -the high rock, which commanded a long view down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span> -the Black Cañon, and gazed wistfully after our -vanishing boat.</p> - -<p>In one instant we were reduced to a most -wretched state. Our canoe was gone; but that -was not half our loss—our meat and tent had also -gone with her; and we were left on the south -shore of the river, while a deep, wide and rapid -stream rolled between us and our camp, and we had -no axe wherewith to cut trees for a raft—no line -to lash them together. Night was coming on; we -were without food, shipwrecked in the wilderness.</p> - -<p>When the canoe had vanished, we took stock -of all these things, and then determined on a -course. It was to go back along the upper edge -of the cañon to the entrance opposite our camping-place -of the last night, there to make a raft from -some logs which had been collected for a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cache</i> in -the previous year, then to put together whatever -line or piece of string we possessed, and, making a -raft, endeavour to cross to the north shore, and -thus gain our camp above the cañon.</p> - -<p>It was a long piece of work, and we were already -tired with the day’s toil, but it was the sole means -by which we could hope to get back to our camp -and to food again. After that we would deliberate -upon further movements.</p> - -<p>When men come heavily to grief in any enterprise, -the full gravity of the disaster does not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span> -break all at once upon their minds; nay, I have -generally found that the first view of the situation -is the ludicrous one. One is often inclined to -laugh over some plight, which means anything but -a laughing matter in reality.</p> - -<p>We made our way to the mouth of the cañon, -and again held a council. Jacques did not like -the idea of the raft; he would go down through -the Beaver swamps along the south shore, and, it -might be, find the canoe stranded on some beach -lower down. Anyhow he would search, and next -morning he would come up again along the river -and hail us across the water in our camp with -tidings of his success: so we parted.</p> - -<p>We at once set to work to make our raft. We -upset the logs of the old <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cache</i>, floated them in the -water, and lashed them together as best we could, -with all the bits of line we could fasten together; -then we got three rough poles, took our places on -the rickety raft, and put out into the turbid river. -Our raft sank deep into the water; down, down -we went; no bottom for the poles, which we used -as paddles in the current. At last we reached the -shore of a large island, and our raft was thrown -violently amidst a pile of driftwood. We scrambled -on shore, broke our way through drift and -thicket to the upper end of the island, and found -a wide channel of water separating us still from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span> -the north shore. Wading up to our middles -across a shallow part of this channel, we finally -reached the north shore and our camp of the -previous night; from thence we worked through -the forest, and just at dusk we struck our camp of -the morning. Thus, after many vicissitudes and -much toil, we had got safely back to our camp; -and though the outlook was dreary enough—for -three large rivers and seventy miles of trackless -forest lay between us and the mining camp to -which we were tending, while all hope of assistance -seemed cut off from us—still, after a hearty supper, -we lay down to sleep, ready to meet on the morrow -whatever it might bring forth.</p> - -<p>Early next morning the voice of little Jacques -sounded from the other side. He had had a rough -time of it; he had gone through slough and -swamp and thicket, and finally he had found the -canoe stranded on an island four miles below the -cañon, half full of water, but otherwise not much -the worse for her trip. “Let us make a raft and -go down, and we would all pull her up again, -and everything would yet be right.” So, taking -axes and line with us, we set off once more for the -mouth of the cañon, and built a big raft of dry -logs, and pushed it out into the current.</p> - -<p>Jacques was on the opposite shore, so we took -him on our raft, and away we went down current<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> -at the rate of seven miles an hour. We reached -the island where our castaway canoe lay, and once -more found ourselves the owners of a boat. Then -we poled up to the cañon again, and, working hard, -succeeded in landing the canoe safely behind the -rock from which we had made our celebrated -crossing on the previous day. The day was hot -and fine, the leaves of the cotton-wood were green, -the strawberries were in blossom, and in the morning -a humming-bird had fluttered into the camp, -carrying the glittering colours which he had -gathered in the tropics. But these proofs of -summer boded ill for us, for all around the -glittering hills were sending down their foaming -torrents to flood the Ominica.</p> - -<p>On the night of the 13th the river, already -high, rose nearly two feet. The morning of the -14th came, and, as soon as breakfast was over, we -set out to make a last attempt to force the cañon. -The programme was to be the same as that of -two days ago; to cross above the rapid, and then -with double-twisted line to drag the canoe up the -fatal fall! We reached the canoe and took our -places the same as before. This time, however, -there was a vague feeling of uneasiness in every -one’s mind; it may have been because we went at -the work coldly, unwarmed by previous exercise; -but despite the former successful attempt, we felt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span> -the presage of disaster ere we left the sheltering -rock. Once more the word was given, and we -shot into the boiling flood. There was a moment’s -wild struggle, during which we worked with all -the strength of despair. A second of suspense, -and then we are borne backwards—slowly, faster, -yet faster—until with a rush as of wings, and -amid a roar of maddened water, we go downwards -towards the cañon’s wall.</p> - -<p>“The rock! the rock!—keep her from the -rock!” roared Jacques. We might as well have -tried to stop an express train. We struck, but it was -the high bow, and the blow split us to the centre; -another foot and we must have been shivered to -atoms. And now, ere there was time for thought, -we were rushing, stern foremost, to the edge of -the great rapid. There was no escape; we were -as helpless as if we had been chained in that -black cañon. “Put steerway on her!” shouted -Jacques, and his paddle dipped a moment in the -surge and spray. Another instant and we were in -it; there was a plunge—a dash of water on every -side of us; the waves hissed around and above us, -seeming to say, “Now we have got you; for two -days you have been edging along us, flanking us, -and fooling us; but now it is our turn!”</p> - -<p>The shock with which we struck into the mass -of breakers seemed but the prelude to total wreck,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span> -and the first sensation I experienced was one of -surprise that the canoe was still under us. But, -after the first plunge she rose well, and amidst the -surge and spray we could see the black walls of -the cañon flitting by us as we glanced through -the boiling flood. All this was but the work of a -moment, and lo! breathless and dripping, with -canoe half filled, we lay safe in quiet eddies where, -below the fall, the water rested after its strife.</p> - -<p>Behind the rock we lay for a few minutes -silent, while the flooded canoe rose and fell upon -the swell of the eddy.</p> - -<p>If, after this escape, we felt loth to try the old -road again, to venture a third time upon that -crossing above the rapid, let no man hold our -courage light.</p> - -<p>We deliberated long upon what was best to be -done. Retreat seemed inevitable; Kalder was -strongly opposed to another attempt; the canoe -was already broken, and with another such blow -she must go to pieces. At last, and reluctantly, -we determined to carry all our baggage back from -the camp, to load up the boat, and, abandoning -the Black Cañon and the Ominica altogether, -seek through the Parsnip River an outlet towards -the South. It was our only resource, and it was -a poor one. Wearily we dragged our baggage -back to the canoe, and loaded her again. Then,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span> -casting out into the current, we ran swiftly down -the remainder of the cañon, and shot from beneath -the shadows of its sombre walls. As we emerged -from the mouth into the broader river, the sheen -of coloured blankets struck our sight on the -south shore.</p> - -<p>In the solitudes of the North one is surprised -at the rapidity with which the eye perceives the -first indication of human or animal existence, but -the general absence of life in the wilderness makes -its chance presence easily detected.</p> - -<p>We put to shore. There was a camp close to -the spot where we had built our first raft on the -night of the disaster; blankets, three fresh beavers, -a bundle of traps, a bag of flour, and a pair of -miner’s boots. The last item engaged Jacques’s -attention. He looked at the soles, and at once -declared them to belong to no less an individual -than Pete Toy, the Cornish miner; but where, -meantime, was Pete? A further inspection solved -that question too. Pete was “portaging” his -load from the upper to the lower end of the cañon—he -evidently dreaded the flooded chasm too much -to attempt its descent with a loaded canoe. In a -little while appeared the missing Pete, carrying on -his back a huge load. It was as we had anticipated—his -canoe lay above the rapids, ours was -here below. Happy coincidence! We would exchange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span> -crafts; Pete would load his goods in our -boat, we would once again carry our baggage to -the upper end of the cañon, and there, taking his -canoe, pursue our western way. It was indeed a -most remarkable meeting to us. Here were we, -after long days of useless struggle, after many -dangers and hair-breadth escapes amid the whirlpools -and rapids of the Black Chasm, about to -abandon the Ominica River altogether, and to seek -by another route, well known to be almost impassable -at high water, a last chance of escape from -the difficulties that beset us; and now, as moody -and discouraged, we turned our faces to begin -the hopeless task, our first glance was greeted, on -emerging from the dismal prison, by a most unlooked-for -means of solving all our difficulties. -Little wonder if we were in high spirits, and if -Pete, the Cornish miner, seemed a friend in need.</p> - -<p>But before anything could be done to carry into -effect this new arrangement, Pete insisted upon -our having a royal feast. He had brought with -him from the mining camp many luxuries; he had -bacon, and beans, and dried apples, and sugar, -and flour, and we poor toilers had only moose-meat -and frozen potatoes and sugarless tea in our -lessening larders. So Pete set vigorously to work; -he baked and fried, and cut and sliced, and talked -all the time, and in less than half an hour laid out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span> -his feast upon the ground. I have often meditated -over that repast in after-time, and wondered -if Pete really possessed the magic power of -transmuting the baser victuals known to us as -pork, beans, and molasses into golden comestibles, -or had scarcity and the wilderness anything to -say to it? It was getting late when we broke up -from the feast of Toy, and, loading once more all -our movables upon our backs, set out to stagger -for the last time to the west end of the portage. -There the canoe of the Cornish miner stood ready -for our service; but the sun was by this time -below the ridges of the Ominica Mountains, and -we pitched our camp for the night beneath the -spruce-trees of the southern shore.</p> - -<p>At break of day next morning we held our way -to the west. It was a fresh, fair dawn, soft with -the odours of earth and air; behind us lay the -Black Cañon, conquered at last; and as its sullen -roar died away in distance, and before our canoe -rose the snow-covered peaks of the Central -Columbian range, now looming but a few miles -distant, I drew a deep breath of satisfaction—the -revulsion of long, anxious hours.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_294" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Untiring over-estimates his powers.—He is not particular -as to the nature of his dinner.—Toil and temper.—Farewell -to the Ominica.—Germansen.—The mining camp.—Celebrities.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">In</span> the struggle which it was our daily work to -wage with Nature, whose dead weight seemed to -be bent on holding us back, the wear and tear of -the things of life had been considerable. Clothes -we will say nothing of—it is their function to go—but -our rough life had told heavily against less -perishable articles. My aneroid was useless; my -watch and revolver slept somewhere beneath the -Peace River; ammunition was reduced to a few -rounds, to be used only upon state occasions; but -to make up for every loss, and to counterbalance -each misfortune, Cerf-vola had passed in safety -through rapid, wreck, and cañon. On several -occasions he had had narrow escapes. A fixed -idea pervaded his mind that he was a good hunting-dog; -it was an utterly erroneous impression -upon his part, but he still clung to it with the -tenacity I have not unfrequently seen evinced by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span> -certain sporting individuals who fancy themselves -sportsmen; and as the impression sometimes leads -its human holders into strange situations, so also -was Cerf-vola betrayed into dangers by this unfortunate -belief in his sporting propensities. A very -keen sense of smell enabled him to detect the -presence of bird or beast on shore or forest, but -absence from the canoe usually obliged him to -swim the swollen river—a feat which resulted in -his being carried down sometimes out of sight on -the impetuous torrent. He swam slowly, but -strongly, and his bushy tail seemed incapable of -submersion, remaining always upon the surface of -the water. But about this time an event occurred -which by every rule of science should have proved -fatal to him.</p> - -<p>One evening, it was the 16th of May, our -larder being low, we camped early at the mouth -of a river called the Ozalinca. Beaver were -plentiful, fish were numerous; and while I went -in quest of the former with my gun, Jacques got -ready a few large cod-hooks, with bait and line. -I pushed my way up the Ozalinca, and soon -reached a beaver-dam. Stealing cautiously to the -edge, I saw one old veteran busily engaged in the -performance of his evening swim; every now and -again he disappeared beneath the crystal water, -rising again to the surface to look around him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span> -with evident satisfaction; presently a younger -beaver appeared, and began to nibble some green -willows beneath the water. They were a little too -far to afford a certain shot, so I waited, watching -the antics of this strangest denizen of American -rivers. All at once the old veteran caught sight -of me; his tail flogged loudly on the water, and -down he went out of sight. I waited a long time, -but he never reappeared, and I was obliged to -content myself with a couple of ducks ere night -closed over the pond.</p> - -<p>When I reached the camp on the Ominica -River my three companions wore long faces: -the cause was soon told. Jacques had baited his -hooks with moose-meat; in an evil moment he -had laid one of these upon the shore ere casting -it into the water; Cerf-vola had swallowed -bait, hook, and line in a single mouthful; the -hook was no mere salmon-hook, but one fully -two inches in length, and of proportionate thickness—a -full-sized cod-hook. I turned to the dog; -he lay close to my outspread buffalo robe, watching -the preparation of supper; he looked as unmoved -as though he had recently swallowed a bit -of pemmican. One might have fancied from his -self-satisfied appearance that large fish-hooks had -ever formed a favourite article of food with him. -I gave him the greater portion of my supper, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span> -he went to sleep as usual at my head. I have -merely to add that from that day to this he has -been in most excellent health. I can only attribute -this fact to the quantity of fish he had -consumed in his career; a moderate computation -would allow him many thousand white fish and -pike in the course of his life; and as he only made -one mouthful of a large white fish, the addition of -a fish-hook in the matter was of no consequence.</p> - -<p>Passing the mouths of the Mesalinca and the -Ozalinca—two wild, swollen torrents flowing -through a labyrinth of mountain peaks from the -north-west—we entered, on the third day after -leaving the cañon, the great central snowy range -of North-British Columbia. The Ominica was here -only a slant of water, 100 yards in breadth; it -poured down a raging flood with a velocity difficult -to picture.</p> - -<p>We worked slowly on, now holding by the bushes -that hung out from the forest shore, now passing -ropes around rocks and tree-stumps, and dragging, -poling, pushing, as best we could. The unusual -toil brought out the worst characteristics of my -crew. Kalder worked like a horse with a savage -temper, and was in a chronic state of laying -violent hands upon the English miner, who, poor -fellow, worked his best, but failed to satisfy the -expectations of the more athletic Indian. It was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span> -no easy matter to keep the peace between them, -and once, midway in a rapid, my Indian leaped -past me in the canoe, seized the unoffending miner, -and hurled him to the bottom of the boat. This -was too much. I caught hold of a paddle and -quickly informed my red servitor that if he did -not instantly loosen his hold, my paddle would -descend upon his hot-tempered head; he cooled a -little, and we resumed our upward way.</p> - -<p>But for all this Kalder was a splendid fellow. -In toil, in difficulty, in danger, alone he was worth -two ordinary men; and in camp no better wild -man lived to cut, to carry, or to cook; to pitch a -tent, or portage a load—no, not from Yukon to -wild Hudson’s Bay.</p> - -<p>On the night of the 19th of May we reached -the mouth of the Wolverine Creek, and camped at -last by quiet water. We were worn and tired -from continuous toil. The ice-cold water in -which we so frequently waded, and which made -the pole-handles like lumps of ice to the touch, -had begun to tell on hands and joints. Nevertheless, -when at night the fire dried our dripping -clothes and warmed us again, the plate of -pemmican and cup of tea were relished, and we -slept that sleep which is only known when the -pine-trees rock the tired wanderer into forgetfulness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span></p> - -<p>The last rapid was passed, and now before us -lay a broad and gentle current, lying in long -serpentine bends amid lofty mountains. So, on -the morning of the 20th, we paddled up towards -the mining camp with easy strokes. Around us -lay misty mountains, showing coldly through -cloud-rift and billowy vapour. The high altitude, -to which by such incessant labour we had worked -our way, was plainly visible in the backward vegetation. -We were nearing the snow-line once -more, but still the sheltered valleys were bursting -forth into green, and spring was piercing the -inmost fastness of these far-north hills.</p> - -<p>And now I parted with the Ominica. It lay -before us, far stretching to the westward, amid -cloud-capped cliffs and snowy peaks; known to -the gold-seeker for seventy miles yet higher and -deeper into the land of mountains, and found -there to be still a large, strong river, flowing from -an unknown west.</p> - -<p>And yet it is but one of that score of rivers -which, 2500 miles from these mountains, seek -the Arctic Sea, through the mighty gateway of -the Mackenzie.</p> - -<p>Late on the evening of the 20th of May I -reached the mining camp of Germansen, three -miles south of the Ominica River. A queer place -was this mining camp of Germansen, the most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span> -northern and remote of all the mines on the -American continent.</p> - -<p>Deep in the bottom of a valley, from whose -steep sides the forest had been cleared or burned -off, stood some dozen or twenty well-built wooden -houses; a few figures moved in the dreary valley, -ditches and drains ran along the hill-sides, and -here and there men were at work with pick and -shovel in the varied toil of gold-mining.</p> - -<p>The history of Germansen Creek had been the -history of a thousand other creeks on the western -continent. A roving miner had struck the glittering -pebbles; the news had spread. From Montana, -from Idaho, from California, Oregon, and Cariboo, -men had flocked to this new find in the far north. -In 1871, 1200 miners had forced their way through -almost incredible hardships to the new field; -provisions reached a fabulous price; flour and -pork sold at six and seven shillings a pound! -The innumerable sharks that prey upon the miner -flocked in to reap the harvest; some struck the -golden dust, but the majority lost everything, and -for about the twentieth time in their lives became -“dead broke;” little was known of the severity -of the season, and many protracted the time of -their departure for more southern winter quarters. -Suddenly, on their return march, the winter -broke; horses and mules perished miserably along<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span> -the forest trail. At length the Frazer River was -reached, a few canoes were obtained, but the ice -was fast filling in the river. The men crowded -into the canoes till they were filled to the edge; -three wretched miners could find no room; they -were left on the shore to their fate; their comrades -pushed away. Two or three days later the three -castaways were found frozen stiff on the inhospitable -shore.</p> - -<p>The next summer saw fewer miners at the -Camp, and this summer saw fewer still; but -if to-morrow another strike were to be made -500 miles to the north of this remote Camp, -hundreds would rush to it, caring little whether -their bones were left to mark the long forest trail. -The miner has ever got his dream of an El Dorado -fresh and sanguine. No disaster, no repeated -failure will discourage him. His golden paradise -is always “away up” in some half-inaccessible -spot in a wilderness of mountains. Nothing -daunts him in this wild search of his. Mountains, -rivers, cañons are the enemies he is constantly -wrestling with. Nature has locked her treasures -of gold and silver in deep mountain caverns, as -though she would keep them from the daring men -who strive to rob her. But she cannot save them. -When one sees this wonderful labour, this delving -into the bowels of rock and shingle, this turning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span> -and twisting of river channel, and sluicing and -dredging and blasting, going on in these strange -out-of-the-way places, the thought occurs, if but -the tenth part of this toil were expended by these -men in the ordinary avocations of life, they would -all be rich or comfortable. The miner cannot -settle down—at least for a long time—the life has -a strange fascination for him; he will tell you that -for one haul he has drawn twenty blanks; he will -tell you that he has lost more money in one night -at “faro,” or “poker,” than would suffice to have -kept him decently for five years; he will tell you -that he has frequently to put two dollars into the -ground in order to dig one dollar out of it, and -yet he cannot give up the wild, free life. He is -emphatically a queer genius; and no matter what -his country, his characteristics are the same. It -would be impossible to discipline him, yet I think -that, were he amenable to even a semblance of -restraint and command, 40,000 miners might -conquer a continent.</p> - -<p>His knowledge of words is peculiar; he has a -thousand phrases of his own which it would be -needless to follow him into. “Don’t prevaricate, -sir!” thundered a British Columbian judge to a -witness from the mines, “don’t prevaricate, sir!” -“Can’t help it, judge,” answered the miner. -“Ever since I got a kick in the mouth from a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span> -mule that knocked my teeth out, I prevaricate a -good deal.”</p> - -<p>In the bottom of the valley, between the wooden -houses and the rushing creek of Germansen, I -pitched my tent for a short time, and in the -course of a few days had the honour of becoming -acquainted, either personally or by reputation, -with Doe English, Dancing Bill, Black Jack, -Dirty-faced Pete, Ned Walsh, Rufus Sylvester, -and several others among the leading “boys” -of the northern mining country. I found them -men who under the rough garb of mountain -miners had a large and varied experience in wild -life and adventure—generous, free-hearted fellows -too, who in the race for gold had not thrown off as -dead weight, half as much of human kindness as -many of their brothers, who, on a more civilized -course, start for the same race too.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_304" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> - -<p>Mr. Rufus Sylvester.—The Untiring developes a new sphere of -usefulness.—Mansen.—A last landmark.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">On</span> the evening of my arrival at Germansen Mr. -Rufus Sylvester appeared from the south, carrying -the mail for the camp. Eleven days earlier -he had started from Quesnelle on the Frazer River; -the trail was, he said, in a very bad state; snow -yet lay five feet deep on the Bald, and Nation -River Mountains; the rivers and streams were -running bank-high; he had swum his horses eleven -times, and finally left them on the south side of -the Bald Mountains, coming on on foot to his destination. -The distance to Quesnelle was about 330 -miles. Such was a summary of his report.</p> - -<p>The prospect was not encouraging; but where -movement is desired, if people wait until prospects -become encouraging, they will be likely to rest -stationary a long time. My plan of movement to -the south was this: I would dispense with everything -save those articles absolutely necessary to -travel; food and clothing would be brought to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span> -the lowest limits, and then, with our goods on our -shoulders, and with Cerf-vola carrying on his back -a load of dry meat sufficient to fill his stomach -during ten days, we would set out on foot to cross -the Bald Mountains. Thirty miles from the -mining Camp, at the south side of the mountain -range, Rufus Sylvester had left a horse and a -mule; we would recover them again, and, packing -our goods upon them, make our way to Fort St. -James on the wild shores of Stuart’s Lake—midway -on our journey to where, on the bend of the -Frazer River, the first vestige of civilization would -greet us at the city called Quesnelle.</p> - -<p>It was the 25th of May when, having loaded -my goods upon the back of a Hydah Indian from -the coast, and giving Kalder a lighter load to -carry, I set off with Cerf-vola for the south. -Idleness during the past three weeks had produced -a considerable change in the person of the -Untiring. He had grown fat and round, and it -was no easy matter to strap his bag of dry meat -upon his back so as to prevent it performing the -feat known, in the case of a saddle on a horse’s -back, by the term “turning.” It appeared to be -a matter of perfect indifference to the Untiring -whether the meat destined for his stomach was -carried beneath that portion of his body or above -his back; he pursued the even tenour of his way<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span> -in either case, but a disposition on his part to -“squat” in every pool of water or patch of mud -along the trail, perfectly regardless of the position -of his ten days’ rations, had the effect of quickly -changing its nature, when it was underneath him, -from dry meat to very wet meat, and making the -bag which held it a kind of water-cart for the -drier portions of the trail.</p> - -<p>Twelve miles from Germansen Creek stood -the other mining camp of Mansen. More -ditches, more drains, more miners, more drinking; -two or three larger saloons; more sixes -and sevens of diamonds and debilitated looking -kings and queens of spades littering the dusty -street; the wrecks of “faro” and “poker” and -“seven up” and “three-card monti;” more -Chinamen and Hydah squaws than Germansen -could boast of; and Mansen lay the same -miserable-looking place that its older rival had -already appeared to me. Yet every person was -kind and obliging. Mr. Grahame, postmaster, -dealer in gold-dust, and general merchant, cooked -with his own hands a most excellent repast, the -discussion of which was followed by further introductions -to mining celebrities. Prominent -among many Joes and Davises and Petes and -Bills, I recollect one well-known name; it was -the name of Smith. We have all known, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span> -presume, some person of that name. We have -also known innumerable prefixes to it, such as -Sydney, Washington, Buckingham, &c., &c., but -here at Mansen dwelt a completely new Smith. -No hero of ancient or modern times had been -called on to supply a prefix or a second name, -but in the person of Mr. Peace River Smith I -recognized a new title for the old and familiar -family.</p> - -<p>Mr. Stirling’s saloon at Mansen was a very -fair representation of what, in this country, we -would call a “public-house,” but in some respects -the saloon and the public differ widely. -The American saloon is eminently patriotic. -Western America, and indeed America generally, -takes its “cocktails” in the presence of soul-stirring -mementoes; from above the lemons, the -coloured wine-glass, the bunch of mint, and -the many alcoholic mixtures which stand behind -the bar—General Washington, Abraham Lincoln, -and President Grant look placidly upon the tippling -miner; but though Mr. Stirling’s saloon could -boast its card-tables, its patriotic pictures, and its -many “slings” and “juleps,” in one important -respect it fell far short of the ideal mining paradise. -It was not a hurdy-house; music and dancing were -both wanting. It was a serious drawback, but it -was explained to me that Mansen had become too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span> -much “played out” to afford to pay the piper, and -hurdies had never penetrated to the fastnesses of -the Peace River mines.</p> - -<p>When the last mining hero had departed, I -lay down in Mr. Grahame’s sanctum, to snatch -a few hours’ sleep ere the first dawn would -call us to the march. I lay on the postmaster’s -bed while that functionary got together his -little bags of gold-dust, his few letters and mail -matters for my companion, Rufus Sylvester -the express man. This work occupied him until -shortly before dawn, when he abandoned it to -again resume the duties of cook in preparing my -breakfast. Day was just breaking over the pine-clad -hills as we bade adieu to this kind host, and -with rapid strides set out through the sleeping -camp. Kalder, the Hydah Indian, and the Untiring, -had preceded us on the previous evening, -and I was alone with the express man, Mr. Rufus -Sylvester. He carried on his back a small, -compact, but heavy load, some 600 ounces of -gold-dust being the weightiest item; but, nevertheless, -he crossed with rapid steps over the -frozen ground. We carried in our hands snow-shoes -for the mountain range still lying some -eight miles away. The trail led o’er hill and -through valley, gradually ascending for the first -six miles, until through breaks in the pines I could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span> -discern the snowy ridges towards which we were -tending. Soon the white patches lay around us -in the forest, but the frost was severe, and the -surface was hard under our mocassins. Finding the -snow-crust was sufficient to bear our weight, we -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cachéd</i> the snow-shoes and held our course up -the mountain. Deeper grew the snow; thinner -and smaller became the pines—dwarf things that -hung wisps of blue-grey moss from their shrunken -limbs. At last they ceased to be around us, and -the summit-ridges of the Bald Mountain spread -out under the low-hung clouds. The big white -ptarmigan <em>bleated</em> like sheep in the thin frosty air. -We crossed the topmost ridge, where snow ever -dwells, and saw beneath a far-stretching valley. I -turned to take a last look to the north; the clouds -had lifted, the sun had risen some time; away over -an ocean of peaks lay the lofty ridge I had named -Galty More a fortnight earlier, when emerging -from the Black Cañon. He rose above us then -the monarch of the range; now he lay far behind, -one of the last landmarks of the Wild North Land.</p> - -<p>We began to descend; again the sparse trees -were around us; the snow gradually lessened; -and after five hours of incessant and rapid walking -we reached a patch of dry grass, where -Kalder, the English miner, and the Indians with -the horses were awaiting us.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_310" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>British Columbia.—Boundaries again.—Juan de Fuça.—Carver.—The -Shining Mountains.—Jacob Astor.—The -monarch of salmon.—Oregon.—Riding and tying.—Nation -Lake.—The Pacific.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">We</span> have been a long time now in that portion -of the American continent which is known as -British Columbia, and yet we have said but little -of its early life, or how it came into the limits of -a defined colony.</p> - -<p>Sometime about that evening when we lay -camped (now a long way back) upon the hill -where the grim face of Chimeroo looked blankly -out upon the darkening wilderness, we entered -for the first time the territory which bears the -name of British Columbia.</p> - -<p>Nature, who, whether she forms a flower or a -nation, never makes a mistake, had drawn on the -northern continent of America her own boundaries. -She had put the Rocky Mountains to mark the two -great divisions of East and West America. But -the theory of natural boundaries appears never to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span> -have elicited from us much support, and in the -instance now under consideration we seem to have -gone not a little out of our way to evince our -disapprobation of Nature’s doings.</p> - -<p>It was the business of the Imperial Government -a few years ago to define the boundaries of the -new province to which they were giving a Constitution.</p> - -<p>The old North-West Fur Company had rested -satisfied with the Rocky Mountain frontier, but -in the new document the Eastern line was defined -as follows: “And to the east, from the boundary -of the United States northwards to the Rocky -Mountains, <em>and the one hundred and twentieth -meridian of West Longitude</em>.” Unfortunately, -although the one hundred and twentieth meridian -is situated for a portion of its course in the main -range of the mountains, it does not lie altogether -within them.</p> - -<p>The Rocky Mountains do not run north and -south, but trend considerably to the west; and -the 120th meridian passes out into the prairie -country of the Peace River. In looking at this -strangely unmeaning frontier, where nature had -already given such an excellent “divide,” and one -which had always been adopted by the early -geographer, it seems only rational to suppose -that the framers of the new line lay under the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span> -impression that mountain and meridian were in -one and the same line. Nor supposing such to be -the case, would it be, by any means, the first time -that such an error had been made by those whose -work it was to frame our Colonial destiny.</p> - -<p>Well, let us disregard this rectification of -boundary, and look at British Columbia as Nature -had made it.</p> - -<p>When, some seventy years ago, the Fur Company -determined to push their trade into the most -remote recesses of the unknown territory lying before -them, a few adventurers following this same -course which I have lately taken, found themselves -suddenly in a labyrinth of mountains. These men -named the mountain land “New Caledonia,” for -they had been nurtured in far Highland homes, -and the grim pine-clad steeps of this wild region, -and the blue lakes lying lapped amid the mountains, -recalled the Loch’s and Ben’s of boyhood’s hours. -’Twas long before they could make much of this -new dominion. Mountains rose on every side; -white giants bald with age, wrapt in cloud, and -cloaked with pines. Cragged and scarped, and -towering above valleys filled with boulders, as -though in bygone ages, when the old peaks had -been youngsters they had pelted each other with -Titanic stones; which, falling short, had filled the -deep ravines that lay between them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span></p> - -<p>But if the mountains in their vast irregularity -defied the early explorers, the rivers were even -still more perplexing. Mountains have a right to -behave in an irregular kind of way, but rivers are -usually supposed to conduct themselves on more -peaceful principles. In New Caledonia they had -apparently forgotten this rule; they played all -manner of tricks. They turned and twisted -behind the backs of hills, and came out just the -very way they shouldn’t have come out. They -rose often close to the sea, and then ran directly -away from it. They pierced through mountain -ranges in cañons and chasms; and the mountains -threw down stones at them, but that only -made them laugh all the louder, as they raced away -from cañon to cañon. Sometimes they grew -wicked, and, turned viciously and bit, and worried -the bases of the hills, and ate trees and rocks and -landslips; and then, over all their feuds and -bickerings, came Time at last, as he always does, -and threw a veil over the conflict; a veil of pine-trees.</p> - -<p>But in one respect both mountain and river -seemed in perfect accord; they would keep the -land to themselves and their child, the wild -Indian; but the white man, the child of civilization, -must be kept out. Nevertheless the white -man came in, and he named the rivers after his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span> -own names, though they still laughed him to -scorn, and were useless to his commerce. -Gradually this white fur-hunter spread himself -through the land; he passed the Frazer, reached -the Columbia, and gained its mouth; and here a -strange rival presented himself. We must go -back a little.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time a Greek sailor was cast away -on the shore, where the northmost Mexican coast -merged into unknown lands.</p> - -<p>He remained for years a wanderer; but when -finally fate threw him again upon Adriatic coasts, -he was the narrator of strange stories, and the -projector of far distant enterprises.</p> - -<p>North of California’s shore, there was, he said, -a large island. Between this island and the -mainland lay a gulf which led to those other -gulfs, which, on the Atlantic verge, Cartier and -Hudson had made known to Europe.</p> - -<p>In these days kings and viceroys gladly listened -to a wanderer’s story. The Greek was sent back -to the coasts he had discovered, commissioned to -fortify the Straits he called Annian, against -English ships seeking through this outlet the -northern passage to Cathay.</p> - -<p>Over the rest time has drawn a cloud. It is -said that the Greek sailor failed and died. His -story became matter of doubt. More than 300<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span> -years passed away; Cook sought in vain for the -strait, and the gulf beyond it.</p> - -<p>Another English sailor was more fortunate; -and in 1756 a lonely ship passed between the -island and the mainland, and the long, doubtful -channel was named “Juan de Fuça,” after the -nickname of the forgotten Greek.</p> - -<p>To fortify the Straits of Annian was deemed -the dream of an enthusiast; yet by a strange -coincidence, we see to-day its realization, and the -Island of San Juan, our latest loss, has now -upon its shores a hostile garrison, bent upon -closing the Straits of Fuça against the ships of -England.</p> - -<p>North of California, and south of British -Columbia, there lies a vast region. Rich in -forest, prairie, snow-clad peak, alluvial meadow, -hill pasture, and rolling table-land. It has all -that nature can give a nation; its climate is that -of England; its peaks are as lofty as Mont Blanc; -its meadows as rich as the vales of Somerset.</p> - -<p>The Spaniard knew it by repute, and named it -Oregon, after the river which we call the Columbia. -Oregon was at that time the entire west of the -Rocky Mountains, to the north of California. -Oregon had long been a mystic land, a realm of -fable. Carver, the indefatigable, had striven to -reach the great river of the west, whose source<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span> -lay near that of the Mississipi. The Indians had -told him that where the Mississipi had its birth -in the shining mountains, another vast river also -rose, and flowed west into the shoreless sea. -Carver failed to reach the shining mountains; his -dream remained to him. “Probably,” he writes, -“in future ages they (the mountains) may be -found to contain more riches in their bowels than -those of Indostan or Malabar, or that are produced -on the golden Gulf of Guinea, nor will I -except even the Peruvian mines.” To-day that -dream comes true, and from the caverns of the -shining mountains men draw forth more gold and -silver than all these golden realms enumerated -by the baffled Carver ever produced. But the -road which Carver had pointed out was soon to be -followed.</p> - -<p>In the first years of the new century men -penetrated the gorges of the shining mountain, -and reached the great river of the west; but they -hunted for furs, and not for gold; and fur-hunters -keep to themselves the knowledge of their discoveries. -Before long the great Republic born -upon the Atlantic shores began to stretch its -infant arms towards the dim Pacific.</p> - -<p>In 1792, a Boston ship entered the mouth of -the Oregon river.</p> - -<p>The charts carried by the vessel showed no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span> -river upon the coast-line, and the captain named -the breaker-tossed estuary after his ship “the -Columbia.” He thought he had discovered a -new river; in reality, he had but found again the -older known Oregon. It is more than probable, -that this new named river would again have found -its ancient designation, had not an enterprising -German now appeared upon the scene. One -Jacob Astor, a vendor of small furs and hats, in -New York, turned his eyes to the west.</p> - -<p>He wished to plant upon the Pacific the germs -of American fur trade. The story of his enterprise -has been sketched by a cunning hand; but -under the brilliant colouring which a great artist -has thrown around his tale of Astoria, the strong -bias of the partisan is too plainly apparent. Yet -it is easy to detect the imperfect argument by -which Washington Irving endeavours to prove -the right of the United States to the disputed -territory of Oregon. The question is one of -“Who was first upon the ground?”</p> - -<p>Irving claims, that Astor, in 1810, was the first -trader who erected a station on the banks of the -Columbia.</p> - -<p>But in order to form his fort, Astor had to -induce several of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">employées</i> of the North-West -Fur Company to desert their service. And -Irving innocently tells us, that when the overland<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span> -expedition under Hunt reached the Columbia, -they found the Indians well supplied with European -articles, which they had obtained from white -traders already domiciled west of the Rocky -Mountains. He records the fact while he misses -its meaning. British fur traders had reached -Oregon long before Jacob Astor had planted his -people on the estuary of the Columbia. Astor’s -factory had but a short life. The war of 1813 -broke out. A British ship appeared off the bar -of the Columbia River, and the North-West Company -moving down the river became the owners -of Astoria. But with their usual astuteness the -Government of the United States claimed, at the -conclusion of the war, the possession of Oregon, -on the ground that it had been theirs prior to -the struggle. That it had not been so, is evident -to any person who will carefully inquire into the -history of the discovery of the North-West Coast, -and the regions lying west of the mountains. But -no one cares to ask about such things, and no one -cared to do so, even when the question was one of -greater moment than it is at present. So, with -the usual supineness which has let drift from us -so many fair realms won by the toil and daring -of forgotten sons, we parted at last with this -magnificent region of Oregon, and signed it over -to our voracious cousins.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span></p> - -<p>It was the old story so frequently repeated. -The country was useless; a pine-forest, a wilderness, -a hopeless blank upon the face of nature.</p> - -<p>To-day, Oregon is to my mind <em>the fairest State -in the American Union</em>.</p> - -<p>There is a story widely told throughout British -Columbia, which aptly illustrates the past policy -of Great Britain, in relation to her vast Wild -Lands.</p> - -<p>Stories widely told are not necessarily true -ones; but this story has about it the ring of probability.</p> - -<p>It is said that once upon a time a certain -British nobleman anchored his ship-of-war in the -deep waters of Puget Sound. It was at a time -when discussion was ripe upon the question of -disputed ownership in Oregon, and this ship was -sent out for the protection of British interests on -the shores of the North Pacific. She bore an ill-fated -name for British diplomacy. She was called -the “America.”</p> - -<p>The commander of the “America” was fond -of salmon fishing; the waters of the Oregon were -said to be stocked with salmon: the fishing would -be excellent. The mighty “Ekewan,” monarch -of salmon, would fall a victim to flies, long famous -on waters of Tweed or Tay. Alas! for the -perverseness of Pacific salmon. No cunningly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span> -twisted hackle, no deftly turned wing of mallard, -summer duck, or jungle cock, would tempt the -blue and silver monsters of the Columbia or the -Cowlitz Rivers. In despair, his lordship reeled -up his line, took to pieces his rod, and wrote in -disgust to his brother (a prominent statesman of -the day) that the whole country was a huge -mistake; that even the salmon in its waters was -a fish of no principle, refusing to bite, to nibble, -or to rise. In fine, that the territory of Oregon, -was not worthy of a second thought. So the -story runs. If it be not true, it has its birth in -that too true insularity which would be sublime, if -it did not cost us something like a kingdom every -decade of years.</p> - -<p>Such has been the past of Oregon. It still -retains a few associations of its former owners. -From its mass of forest, from its long-reaching -rivers, and above its ever green prairies, immense -spire-shaped single peaks rise up 14,000 feet above -the Pacific level. Far over the blue waters they -greet the sailor’s eye, while yet the lower shore -lies deep sunken beneath the ocean sky-line. -They are literally the “shining mountains” of -Carver, and seamen say that at night, far out at -sea, the Pacific waves glow brightly ’neath the -reflected lustre of their eternal snows.</p> - -<p>These solitary peaks bear English titles, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span> -early fur-hunter, or sailor-discoverer, have written -their now forgotten names in snow-white letters -upon the blue skies of Oregon.</p> - -<p>But perhaps one of these days our cousins will -change all that.</p> - -<p>Meantime, I have wandered far south from my -lofty standpoint on the snowy ridges of the Bald -Mountains in Northern New Caledonia.</p> - -<p>Descending with rapid strides the mountain -trail, we heard a faint signal-call from the valley -before us. It was from the party sent on the -previous evening, to await our arrival at the spot -where Rufus had left his worn-out horses a week -before. A few miles more brought us within sight -of the blue smoke which promised breakfast—a -welcome prospect after six hours forced marching -over the steep ridges of the Bald Mountains.</p> - -<p>Two Indians, two miners, two thin horses, and -one fat dog now formed the camp before the fire, -at which we rested with feelings of keen delight. -Tom, the “carrier” Indian, and Kalder, my trusty -henchman, had breakfast ready; and beans and -bacon, to say nothing of jam and white bread, -were still sufficient novelties to a winter traveller, -long nourished upon the sole luxury of moose -pemmican, to make eighteen miles of mountain -exercise a needless prelude to a hearty breakfast. -The meal over we made preparations for our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span> -march to the south. In round numbers I was 300 -miles from Quesnelle. Mountain, forest, swamp, -river, and lake, lay between me and that valley -where the first vestige of civilized travel would -greet me on the rapid waters of the Frazer River.</p> - -<p>Through all this land of wilderness a narrow -trail held its way; now, under the shadow of lofty -pine forest; now, skirting the shores of lonely -lakes; now, climbing the mountain ranges of the -Nation River, where yet the snow lay deep amid -those valleys whose waters seek upon one side the -Pacific, upon the other the Arctic Ocean. Between -me and the frontier “city” of Quesnelle -lay the Hudson’s Bay Fort of St. James, on the -south-east shore of the lake called Stuart’s. Here -my companion Rufus counted upon obtaining -fresh horses; but until we could reach this half-way -house, our own good legs must carry us, for -the steeds now gathered into the camp were as -poor and weak as the fast travel and long fasting -of the previous journey could make them. They -were literally but skin and bone, and it was still a -matter of doubt whether they would be able to -carry our small stock of food and blankets, in -addition to their own bodies, over the long trail -before us.</p> - -<p>Packing our goods upon the backs of the -skeleton steeds, we set out for the south. Before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span> -proceeding far a third horse was captured. He -proved to be in better condition than his comrades. -A saddle was therefore placed on his -back, and he was handed over to me by Rufus in -order that we should “ride and tie” during the -remainder of the day. In theory this arrangement -was admirable; in practice it was painfully -defective. The horse seemed to enter fully into -the “tying” part of it, but the “riding” was -altogether another matter. I think nothing but -the direst starvation would have induced that -“cayoose” to deviate in any way from his part of -the tying. No amount of stick or whip or spur -would make him a party to the riding. At last he -rolled heavily against a prostrate tree, bruising me -not a little by the performance. He appeared to -have serious ideas of fancying himself “tied” -when in this reclining position, and it was no easy -matter to disentangle oneself from his ruins. -After this I dissolved partnership with Rufus, and -found that walking was a much less fatiguing, and -less hazardous performance, if a little less exciting.</p> - -<p>We held our way through a wild land of hill -and vale and swamp for some fifteen or sixteen -miles, and camped on the edge of a little meadow, -where the old grass of the previous year promised -the tired horses a scanty meal. It was but a poor -pasturage, and next morning one horse proved so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span> -weak that we left him to his fate, and held on -with two horses towards the Nation River. Between -us and this Nation River lay a steep mountain, -still deep in snow. We began its ascent -while the morning was yet young.</p> - -<p>Since daylight it had snowed incessantly; and in -a dense driving snow-storm we made the passage -of the mountain.</p> - -<p>The winter’s snow lay four feet deep upon the -trail, and our horses sunk to their girths at every -step. Slowly we plodded on, each horse stepping -in the old footprints of the last journey, and pausing -often to take breath in the toilsome ascent. -At length the summit was reached; but a thick -cloud hung over peak and valley. Then the trail -wound slowly downwards, and by noon we reached -the shore of a dim lake, across whose bosom the -snow-storm swept as though the time had been -mid-November instead of the end of May.</p> - -<p>We passed the outlet of the Nation Lake (a -sheet of water some thirty-five miles in length, -lying nearly east and west), and held our way for -some miles along its southern shore. In the -evening we had reached a green meadow, on the -banks of a swollen stream.</p> - -<p>While Rufus and I were taking the packs off -the tired horses, preparatory to making them swim -the stream; a huge grizzly bear came out upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span> -the opposite bank and looked at us for a moment. -The Indians who were behind saw him approach -us, but they were too far from us to make their -voices audible. A tree crossed the stream, and -the opposite bank rose steeply from the water to -the level meadow above. Bruin was not twenty -paces from us, but the bank hid him from our -view; and when I became aware of his proximity -he had already made up his mind to retire. -Grizzlies are seldom met under such favourable -circumstances. A high bank in front, a level -meadow beyond, I long regretted the chance, lost -so unwittingly, and our cheerless bivouac that -night in the driving sleet would have been but -little heeded, had my now rusty double-barrel -spoken its mind to our shaggy visitor. But one -cannot always be in luck.</p> - -<p>All night long it rained and sleeted and snowed, -and daylight broke upon a white landscape. We -got away from camp at four o’clock, and held on -with rapid pace until ten. By this hour we had -reached the summit of the table-land “divide” -between the Arctic and Pacific Oceans. It is -almost imperceptible, its only indication being the -flow of water south, instead of north-east. The -day had cleared, but a violent storm swept the -forest, crashing many a tall tree prostrate to the -earth; and when we camped for dinner, it was no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span> -easy matter to select a spot safe from the dangers -of falling pine-trees.</p> - -<p>As I quitted this Arctic water-shed, and stood -on the height of land between the two oceans, -memory could not help running back, over the -many scenes which had passed, since on that -evening after leaving the Long Portage, I had -first entered the river systems of the North.</p> - -<p>Full 1300 miles away lay the camping-place of -that evening; and as the many long hours of -varied travel rose up again before me, snow-swept, -toil-laden, full at times of wreck and peril -and disaster; it was not without reason that, -turning away from the cold northern landscape, I -saluted with joy the blue pine-tops, through which -rolled the broad rivers of the Pacific.</p> - -<div id="i_327" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i_327.jpg" width="2545" height="1604" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">“THE LOOK-OUT MOUNTAIN.”</div></div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_327" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead medium"> - -<p>The Look-out Mountain.—A gigantic tree.—The Untiring -retires before superior numbers.—Fort St. James.—A -strange sight in the forest.—Lake Noola.—Quesnelle.—Cerf-vola -in civilized life.—Old dog, good-bye.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">We</span> marched that day over thirty miles, and -halted in a valley of cotton-wood trees, amid -green leaves again. We were yet distant about -forty-five miles from the Fort St. James, but my -friend Rufus declared that a rapid march on the -morrow would take us to the half-way house by -sun-down. Rapid marches had long since become -familiar, and one more or less did not matter -much.</p> - -<p>Daybreak found us in motion; it was a fast -walk, it was a faster walk, it was a run, and ere -the mid-day sun hung over the rich undulating -forest-land, we were thirty miles from our camp -in the cotton-wood. Before noon, a lofty ridge -rose before us; the trail wound up its long ascent, -Rufus called it “the Look-out Mountain.” The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span> -top was bare of forest, the day was bright with -sunshine; not a cloud lay over the vast plateau of -Middle New Caledonia.</p> - -<p>Five hundred snowy peaks rose up along the -horizon: the Nation Lake Mountains, the further -ranges of the Ominica, the ridges which lie -between the many tributaries of the Peace and the -countless lakes of the North Frazer. Babine, -Tatla, Pinkley, Stuart’s, and far off to the west -the old monarchs of the Rocky Mountains rose up -to look a last farewell to the wanderer, who now -carried away to distant lands a hundred memories -of their lonely beauty. On the south slope of the -Look-out Mountain, a gigantic pine-tree first -attracts the traveller’s eye; its seamed trunk is -dusky red, its dark and sombre head is lifted -high above all other trees, and the music which -the winds make through its branches seems to -come from a great distance. It is the Douglas -Pine of the Pacific coast, the monarch of Columbian -forests, a tree which Turner must have seen -in his dreams.</p> - -<p>A few miles south of the mountain, the country -opened out into pleasant prairies fringed with -groves of cotton-wood; the grass was growing -thick and green, the meadows were bright with -flowers. Three fat horses were feeding upon one of -these meadows; they were the property of Rufus.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span> -We caught them with some little difficulty, and -turned our two poor thin animals adrift in peace -and plenty; then mounting the fresh steeds, Rufus -and I hurried on to Fort St. James.</p> - -<p>The saddle was a pleasant change after the -hard marching of the last few days. Mud and dust -and stones, alternating with the snow of the mountains, -had told heavily against our moccassined -feet; but the worst was now over, and henceforth -we would have horses to Quesnelle.</p> - -<p>It was yet some time before sun-down when we -cantered down the sloping trail which leads to -the Fort St. James. Of course the Untiring was -at his usual post—well to the front. Be it dog-train, -or march on foot, or march with horses, the -Untiring led the van, his tail like the plume of -Henry of Navarre at Ivry, ever waving his followers -to renewed exertions. It would be no easy -matter for me to enumerate all the Hudson’s Bay -forts which the Untiring had entered at the head -of his train. Long and varied experience had -made him familiar with every description of post, -from the imposing array of wooden buildings -which marked the residence of a chief factor, down -to the little isolated hut wherein some half-breed -servant carries on his winter traffic on the shore -of a nameless lake.</p> - -<p>Cerf-vola knew them all. Freed from his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span> -harness in the square of a fort—an event which -he usually accelerated by dragging his sled and -three other dogs to the doorway of the principal -house—he at once made himself master of the -situation, paying particular attention to two objective -points. First, the intimidation of resident -dogs; second, the topography of the provision -store. Ten minutes after his entry into a previously -unexplored fort, he knew to a nicety -where the white fish were kept, and where the -dry meat and pemmican lay. But on this occasion -at Fort St. James a woful disaster awaited him.</p> - -<p>With the memory of many triumphal entries -full upon him, he now led the way into the square -of the fort, totally forgetting that he was no -longer a hauling-dog, but a free lance or a rover -on his own account. In an instant four huge -haulers espied him, and charging from every side -ere I could force in upon the conflict to balance -sides a little, they completely prostrated the -hitherto invincible Esquimaux, and at his last -Hudson Bay post, near the close of his 2500 mile -march, he experienced his first defeat. We -rescued him from his enemies before he had -suffered much bodily hurt, but he looked considerably -tail-fallen at this unlooked-for reception, -and passed the remainder of the day in strict -seclusion underneath my bed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span></p> - -<p>Stuart’s Lake is a very beautiful sheet of water. -Tall mountains rise along its western and northern -shores, and forest promontories stretch far into -its deep blue waters. It is the favourite home of -the salmon, when late in summer he has worked -his long, toilsome way up the innumerable rapids -of the Frazer, 500 miles from the Pacific.</p> - -<p>Colossal sturgeon are also found in its waters, -sometimes weighing as much as 800 pounds. -With the exception of rabbits, game is scarce, -along the shores, but at certain times rabbits are -found in incredible numbers; the Indian women -snare them by sacksful, and every one lives on -rabbit, for when rabbits are numerous, salmon are -scarce.</p> - -<p>The daily rations of a man in the wide domain of -the Hudson’s Bay Company are singularly varied.</p> - -<p>On the south shores of Hudson’s Bay a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voyageur</i> -receives every day one wild goose; in the Saskatchewan -he gets ten pounds of buffalo-meat; -in Athabasca eight pounds of moose-meat; in -English River three large white fish; in the -North, half fish and reindeer; and here in New -Caledonia he receives for his day’s food eight -rabbits or one salmon. Start not, reader, at the -last item! The salmon is a dried one, and does -not weigh more than a pound and a half in its -reduced form.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">332</span></p> - -<p>After a day’s delay at Fort St. James, we -started again on our southern road. A canoe -carried us to a point some five and twenty miles -lower down the Stuart’s River—a rapid stream of -considerable size, which bears the out-flow of the -lake and of the long line of lakes lying north of -Stuart’s, into the main Frazer River.</p> - -<p>I here said good-bye to Kalder, who was to -return to Peace River on the following day. A -whisky saloon in the neighbourhood of the fort -had proved too much for this hot-tempered half-breed, -and he was in a state of hilarious grief -when we parted. “He had been very hasty,” he -said, “would I exsqueeze him, as he was sorry; he -would always go with this master again if he ever -came back to Peace River;” and then the dog -caught his eye, and overpowered by his feelings he -vanished into the saloon.</p> - -<p>Guided by an old carrier Indian chief, the -canoe swept out of the beautiful lake and ran -swiftly down the Stuart’s River. By sun-down we -had reached the spot where the trail crosses the -stream, and here we camped for the night; our -horses had arrived before us under convoy of Tom -the Indian.</p> - -<p>On the following morning, the 31st of May, we -reached the banks of the Nacharcole River, a large -stream flowing from the west; open prairies of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span> -rich land fringed the banks of this river, and far -as the eye could reach to the west no mountain -ridge barred the way to the Western Ocean.</p> - -<p>This river has its source within twenty miles of -the Pacific, and is without doubt the true line to -the sea for a northern railroad, whenever Canada -shall earnestly take in hand the work of riveting -together the now widely-severed portions of her -vast dominion; but to this subject I hope to have -time to devote a special chapter in the Appendix -to this book, now my long journey is drawing to -a close, and these latter pages of its story are -written amid stormy waves, where a southward-steering -ship reels on beneath the shadow of -Madeira’s mountains.</p> - -<p>Crossing the wide Nacharcole River, and continuing -south for a few miles, we reached a broadly -cut trail which bore curious traces of past civilization. -Old telegraph poles stood at intervals along -the forest-cleared opening, and rusted wire hung -in loose festoons down from their tops, or lay -tangled amid the growing brushwood of the -cleared space. A telegraph in the wilderness! -What did it mean?</p> - -<p>When civilization once grasps the wild, lone -spaces of the earth it seldom releases its hold; -yet here civilization had once advanced her footsteps, -and apparently shrunk back again frightened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span> -at her boldness. It was even so; this trail, with -its ruined wire, told of the wreck of a great enterprise. -While yet the Atlantic cable was an -unsettled question, a bold idea sprung to life in -the brain of an American. It was to connect the -Old World and the New, by a wire stretched -through the vast forests of British Columbia and -Alaska, to the Straits of Behring; thence across -the Tundras of Kamtschatka, and around the -shores of Okhotsk the wires would run to the -Amoor River, to meet a line which the Russian -Government would lay from Moscow to the -Pacific.</p> - -<p>It was a grand scheme, but it lacked the -elements of success, because of ill-judged route -and faulty execution. The great Telegraph Company -of the United States entered warmly into -the plan. Exploring parties were sent out; one -pierced these silent forests; another surveyed the -long line of the Yukon; another followed the wintry -shores of the Sea of Okhotsk, and passed the -Tundras of the black Gulf of Anadir.</p> - -<p>Four millions of dollars were spent in these -expeditions. Suddenly news came that the Atlantic -cable was an accomplished fact. Brunel had died -of a broken heart; but the New World and the -Old had welded their thoughts together, with the -same blow that broke his heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span></p> - -<p>Europe spoke to America beneath the ocean, and -the voice which men had sought to waft through -the vast forests of the Wild North Land, and over -the Tundras of Siberia, died away in utter desolation.</p> - -<p>So the great enterprise was abandoned, and -to-day from the lonely shores of Lake Babine to the -bend of the Frazer at Quesnelle, the ruined wire -hangs loosely through the forest.</p> - -<p>During the first two days of June we journeyed -through a wild, undulating country, filled with -lakes and rolling hills; grassy openings were -numerous, and many small streams stocked with -fish intersected the land.</p> - -<p>The lakes of this northern plateau are singularly -beautiful. Many isles lie upon their surface; -from tiny promontories the huge Douglas pine lifts -his motionless head. The great northern diver, -the loon, dips his white breast in the blue wavelets, -and sounds his melancholy cry through the solitude. -I do not think that I have ever listened -to a sound which conveys a sense of indescribable -loneliness so completely as this wail, which the -loon sends at night over the forest shores. The -man who wrote</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“And on the mere the wailing died away”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="in0">must have heard it in his dreams.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span></p> - -<p>We passed the noisy Indian village of Lake -Noola and the silent Indian graves on the grassy -shore of Lake Noolkai, and the evening of the -2nd of June found us camped in the green meadows -of the West Road River, up which a white -man first penetrated to the Pacific Ocean just -eighty years ago.</p> - -<p>A stray Indian came along with news of disaster. -A canoe had upset near the cotton-wood cañon of -the Frazer, and the Hudson’s Bay officer at Fort -George had gone down beneath a pile of driftwood, -in the whirlpools of the treacherous river. -The Indian had been with him, but he had reached -the shore with difficulty, and was now making his -way to Fort St. James, carrying news of the -catastrophe.</p> - -<p>Forty more miles brought us to the summit of -a ridge, from which a large river was seen flowing -in the centre of a deep valley far into the south. -Beyond, on the further shore, a few scattered -wooden houses stood grouped upon a level bank; -the wild rose-trees were in blossom; it was summer -in the forest, and the evening air was fragrant -with the scent of flowers.</p> - -<p>I drew rein a moment on the ridge, and looked -wistfully back along the forest trail.</p> - -<p>Before me spread civilization and the waters -of the Pacific; behind me, vague and vast,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span> -lay a hundred memories of the Wild North -Land.</p> - -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<p>For many reasons it is fitting to end this story -here. Between the ridge on the west shore of -the Frazer and those scattered wooden houses on -the east, lies a gulf wider than a score of valleys. -On one side man—on the other the wilderness; -on one side noise of steam and hammer—on the -other voice of wild things and the silence of the -solitude.</p> - -<p>It is still many hundred miles ere I can hope to -reach anything save a border civilization. The -road which runs from Quesnelle to Victoria is -400 miles in length. Washington territory, -Oregon, and California have yet to be traversed -ere, 1500 miles from here, the golden gate of San -Francisco opens on the sunset of the Pacific -Ocean.</p> - -<p>Many scenes of beauty lie in that long track -hidden in the bosom of the Sierras. The Cascades -Ranier, Hood, and Shasta will throw their -shadows across my path as the Untiring dog and -his now tired master, wander south towards the -grim Yosemite; but to link these things into the -story of a winter journey across the yet untamed -wilds of the Great North would be an impossible -task.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span></p> - -<p>One evening I stood in a muddy street of New -York. A crowd had gathered before the door of -one of those immense buildings which our cousins -rear along their city thoroughfares and call hotels. -The door opened, and half a dozen dusky men -came forth.</p> - -<p>“Who are they?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“They are the Sioux chiefs from the Yellowstone,” -answered a bystander; “they’re a taking -them to the the-a-ter, to see Lester Wallick.”</p> - -<p>Out on the Great Prairie I had often seen the -red man in his boundless home; savage if you -will, but still a power in the land, and fitting in -every way the wilds in which he dwells. The -names of Red Cloud and his brother chiefs from -the Yellowstone were household words to me. It -was this same Red Cloud who led his 500 whooping -warriors on Fetterman’s troops, when not one -soldier escaped to tell the story of the fight in the -foot-hills of the Wyoming Mountains; and here -was Red Cloud now in semi-civilized dress, but -still a giant ’midst the puny rabble that thronged -to see him come forth; with the gaslight falling -on his dusky features and his eyes staring in -bewildered vacancy at the crowd around him.</p> - -<p>Captain Jack was right: better, poor hunted -savage, thy grave in the lava-beds, than this -burlesque union of street and wilderness! But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span> -there was one denizen of the wilds who followed -my footsteps into southern lands, and of him the -reader might ask, “What more?”</p> - -<p>Well, the Untiring took readily to civilization; -he looked at Shasta, he sailed on the Columbia -River, he climbed the dizzy ledges of the Yosemite, -he gazed at the Golden Gate, and saw the sun -sink beyond the blue waves of the great Salt -Lake, but none of these scenes seemed to affect -him in the slightest degree.</p> - -<p>He journeyed in the boot or on the roof of a -stage-coach for more than 800 miles; he was -weighed once as extra baggage, and classified and -charged as such; he conducted himself with all -possible decorum in the rooms and corridors of -the grand hotel at San Francisco; he crossed -the continent in a railway carriage to Montreal and -Boston, as though he had been a first-class passenger -since childhood; he thought no more of the -reception-room of Brigham Young in Utah, than -had he been standing on a snow-drift in Athabasca -Lake; he was duly photographed and petted and -pampered, but he took it all as a matter of course.</p> - -<p>There were, however, two facts in civilization -which caused him unutterable astonishment—a -brass band, and a butcher’s stall. He fled from -the one; he howled with delight before the other.</p> - -<p>I frequently endeavoured to find out the cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span> -of his aversion to music. Although he was popularly -supposed to belong to the species of savage -beast, music had anything but a soothing effect -upon him. Whenever he heard a band, he fled to -my hotel; and once, when they were burying a -renowned general of volunteers in San Francisco -with full military honours, he caused no small -confusion amidst the mournful cortége by charging -full tilt through the entire crowd.</p> - -<p>But the butcher’s stall was something to be -long remembered. Six or eight sheep, and half as -many fat oxen hung up by the heels, apparently all -for his benefit, was something that no dog could -understand. Planting himself full before it, he -howled hilariously for some moments, and when -with difficulty I succeeded in conducting him to -the seclusion of my room, he took advantage of -my absence to remove with the aid of his teeth -the obnoxious door-panel which intervened between -him and this paradise of mutton.</p> - -<p>On the Atlantic shore I bid my old friend a -long good-bye. It was night; and as the ship -sailed away from the land, and I found myself -separated for the first time during so many long -months from the friend and servant and partner -who</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Thro’ every swift vicissitude</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of changeful time, unchanged had stood,</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span></p> -<p class="in0">I strung together these few rhymes, which were -not the less true because they were only</p> - -<p class="p1 center">MORE DOGGEREL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container p0"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Old dog, good-bye, the parting time has come,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Hero on the verge of wild Atlantic foam;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He who would follow, when fast beats the drum,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Must have no place of rest, no dog, no home.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">And yet I cannot leave thee even here,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Where toil and cold in peace and rest shall end,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Poor faithful partner of a wild career,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Through icy leagues my sole unceasing friend,</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Without one word to mark our long good-bye,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Without a line to paint that wintry dream,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When day by day, old Husky, thou, and I,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Toiled o’er the great Unchagah’s frozen stream.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">For now, when it is time to go, strange sights</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Rise from the ocean of the vanish’d year,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And wail of pines, and sheen of northern lights,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Flash o’er the sight and float on mem’ry’s ear.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">We cross again the lone, dim shrouded lake,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Where stunted cedars bend before the blast;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Again the camp is made amidst the brake,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The pine-log’s light upon thy face is cast.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">We talk together, yes—we often spent</div> - <div class="verse indent2">An hour in converse, while my bit thou shared.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">One eye, a friendly one, on me was bent;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The other, on some comrade fiercely glared.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Deep slept the night, the owl had ceased his cry,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Unbroken stillness o’er the earth was shed;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And crouch’d beside me thou wert sure to lie,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thy rest a watching, snow thy only bed.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">342</span> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">The miles went on, the tens ’neath twenties lay;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The scores to hundreds slowly, slowly, roll’d;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And ere the winter wore itself away,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The hundreds turn’d to thousands doubly told.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">But still thou wert the leader of the band,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And still thy step went on thro’ toil and pain;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Until like giants in the Wild North Land,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A thousand glittering peaks frown’d o’er the plain.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">And yet we did not part; beside me still</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Was seen thy bushy tail, thy well-known face;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Through cañon dark, and by the snow-clad hill,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thou kept unchanged thy old familiar pace.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Why tell it all? through fifty scenes we went,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Where Shasta’s peak its lonely shadows cast;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Till now for Afric’s shore my steps are bent,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And thou and I, old friend, must part at last.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Thou wilt not miss me, home and care are thine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And peace and rest will lull thee to the end;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But still, perchance with low and wistful whine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thou’lt sometimes scan the landscape for thy friend.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Or when the drowsy summer noon is nigh,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or wintry moon upon the white snow shines,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">From dreamy sleep will rise a muffled cry,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For him who led thee through the land of pines.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_343" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="POSTSCRIPT">POSTSCRIPT</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot inhead short"> -<p>FOR THE EDITION OF 1907.</p> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">I have</span> been asked to write a few new words -for this old book, and it is not easy to do it. -Most of the men and all the dogs of that wild -time in the North are dead. I have never been -able to understand why dogs should have short -lives, and so many other things, such as tortoises, -elephants, carp, and even men, should have long -lives.</p> - -<p>A few months ago I saw at St. Helena two -tortoises which were said to have been at Plantation -House for more than one hundred years. -During a visit which I made to St. Helena in -1864 I became the owner of a picture of Plantation -House, dated 1840. Two tortoises are -shown in that picture on the lawn in front of -the house, much smaller in size than the two -now there. So it is probable that the legend -of the hundred years on the Island is correct.</p> - -<p>Strange! Napoleon, Bertrand, Montholon,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span> -Las Cases, Gourgaud, Hudson Lowe, O’Meara, -all gone long ago—the two tortoises still there!</p> - -<p>At the end of the Preface of 1873 I said that -I was then about to proceed to Africa—a continent -which appeared at the moment “to be -offering adventure with a liberal hand.” That -is thirty-four years ago; and, had Africa continued -in her liberal mood, it might have been -easier to write this Postscript to-day. Unfortunately -the mood did not last. Africa proffered -her adventures to me with a very conservative -hand—so much so, indeed, that a great blank -or void has arisen in my mind between these -old days of the snow-shoe, the dog-sled, the -buffalo, and the prairie of the Wild North Land -and the present time. Over and above the -lapse of years, Africa has intervened with rather -more than a full share of her by-products—fever, -ineffectual labour, and that eventual frustration -of human effort which seems to have been the -inevitable outcome of African adventure from the -time of Hannibal the Carthaginian to Moneyball, -the London Latitudinarian.</p> - -<p>If you look at a map of the world you will -see that what is, in a topographical sense, thickest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span> -and longest in Africa is thinnest and shortest in -the rest of the globe. Africa, measured along the -10th degree of North latitude, gives about 4000 -miles of land-line. The same latitude in all the -other continents combined will give about 400 -miles. We call the equator an imaginary line, -but it is the only real live line that has lasting -significance in relation to man’s life on earth.</p> - -<p>The equator may be said to be the chest and -heart of Africa. Elsewhere over the globe it -is as a finger-tip or a toe-nail. That fact holds -an immense human problem.</p> - -<p>When the Great Divider of earth and ocean -scooped out the central portion of the two -Americas, forming the vast water receptacle -now filled by the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean -Sea, He laid the line of a good deal of -man’s destiny in the world.</p> - -<p>Run the eye from this great sea gap in America -across the Atlantic to the west coast of Africa, -and in the same latitudes you find a corresponding -land protuberance, sufficient (if we could tow -it across the ocean) to fill the opposite land -vacuum in Central America. And it is strange -to note that it was from this African protuberance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span> -that the vast majority of the negroes were -taken in the days of the slave trade, and carried -over the Atlantic to work as slaves among the -islands and on the coasts of this same Mexican -Gulf and Carib Sea. Were the slave-traders -of Bristol and Liverpool, unconsciously, in this -hideous traffic, reversing the after idea of Canning -by calling the old world into American -slavery in order to redress the balance of colour -in the new? For what seems probable is that -had these, say twenty degrees, of solid Equatorial -Africa originally filled up that Central American -sea space, the greater part of the entire continent -would to-day have belonged to the negro -race.</p> - -<p>The Aztec has gone, the Indian is going, but -the imported African black man is going ahead.</p> - -<p>At the end of the Civil War less than three -million negroes were in the United States. There -are now, I am told, ten millions. In spite of -old slavery and modern race-exclusion and outrage, -the African is making his way in the new -world. Emigration from Europe throws nearly -a million virile whites annually into America. -Africa sends no fresh blood to replenish the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span> -old slave stock; nevertheless, the ratio of black -increase exceeds that of the white.</p> - -<p>Herein a strange contrariety presents itself -in the two colours. The white man fails to -live and propagate himself in Equatorial Africa, -but the black man thrives and multiplies in -America. And meanwhile what about the Wild -North Land? That, like the men and dogs, is -also dead.</p> - -<p>One of the old friends of that time still survives—the -gentleman of the Hudson’s Bay Company -who was my companion from Fort Carlton -to Lake Athabasca in the winter of ’72–73. -His letters still breathe the same unconquerable -energy that characterised him in the far North. -He tells me in a letter written from Winnipeg -at Christmas last that my little village at Fort -Garry is now a great city, “which will one -day,” he writes, “be the greatest, and in short -the Chicago of Canada.” He tells me also of -booms and bridges and expansions, and he sends -me newspapers with pictures of hotels, grain-elevators, -and universities, all of approved -American design, and of entirely up-to-date -ugliness. He says that even “a more progressive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span> -city government is expected from a new -mayor who has recently been elected by nearly -double the largest majority ever obtained by -any previous mayor.”</p> - -<p>All this is no doubt quite as it should be; -but it goes to prove, all the same, that the -Wild North Land is dead and buried. I do -not want to see its grave—I prefer to remember -it as I saw it more than a generation ago; and -I believe that one Chicago is amply sufficient -for any one world.</p> - -<p>Indeed, I can never be grateful enough that -it was given me to see the old things of North -America before the deluge. Prairies pure and -unspotted; great herds of buffaloes moving; the -sun setting over a silent wilderness.</p> - -<p class="sigright">W. F. B.</p> - -<p class="in0 in1 smaller"><i>January 1907.</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="toclink_349" class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX">APPENDIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="center vspace wspace larger">ON THE PASSES THROUGH THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS<br /> -IN BRITISH TERRITORY,</p> - -<p class="p1 b1 smaller center">AND</p> - -<p class="center vspace wspace larger">THE BEST ROUTE FOR A CANADIAN RAILROAD TO<br /> -THE PACIFIC OCEAN.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">APPENDIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="in0"><span class="firstword">Nearly</span> twenty years ago we began to talk of building a -railroad across the continent of North America to lie wholly -within British territory, and we are still talking about it.</p> - -<p>Meantime our cousins have built their inter-oceanic road, -and having opened it and run upon it for six years: they are -also talking much about their work. But of such things it -is, perhaps, better to speak after the work has been accomplished -than before it has been begun.</p> - -<p>The line which thus connects the Pacific and Atlantic -Oceans bears the name of the Union Pacific Railroad. It -crosses the continent nearly through the centre of the -United States, following, with slight deviation, the 42nd -parallel of latitude. Two other lines have been projected -south, and one north of this Union Pacific road, all -lying within the United States; but all have come to -untimely ends, stopping midway in their career across the -sandy plains of the West.</p> - -<p>There was the Southern Pacific Railroad to follow the -30th parallel; there was the Kansas Pacific line following -the Republican valley, and stopping short at the city -of Denver in Colorado; and there was the Northern Pacific -Railroad, the most ambitious of all the later lines, which, -starting from the city of Duluth on the western extremity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span> -of Lake Superior, traversed the northern half of the State -of Minnesota, crossed the sandy wastes of Dakota, and has -just now come heavily to grief at the Big Bend of the -Missouri River, on the borders of the “Bad Lands” of the -Yellowstone.</p> - -<p>In an early chapter of this book it has been remarked -that the continent of North America, east of the Rocky -Mountains, sloped from south to north. This slope, which -is observable from Mexico to the Arctic Ocean, has an -important bearing on the practical working of railroad lines -across the continent. The Union Pacific road, taken in -connexion with the Central Pacific, attains at its maximum -elevation an altitude of over 8000 feet above the sea-level, -and runs far over 900 miles at an average height of about -4500 feet; the Northern Pacific reaches over 5000 feet, -and fully half its projected course lies through a country -3000 to 4000 feet above ocean-level; the line of the Kansas -Pacific is still more elevated, and the great plateau of the -Colorado River is more than 7000 feet above the sea. Continuing -northward, into British territory, the next projected -line is that of the Canadian Pacific Railway, and it -is with this road that our business chiefly lies in these few -pages of Appendix.</p> - -<p>The depression, or slope, of the prairie level towards the -north continues, with marked regularity, throughout the -whole of British America; thus at the 49th parallel -(the boundary-line between the United States), the mean -elevation of the plains is about 4000 feet. Two hundred -and fifty miles north, or in the 53rd parallel, it is about -3000 feet; and 300 miles still farther north, or about -the entrance to the Peace River Pass, it has fallen to something -like 1700 feet above the sea-level.</p> - -<p>But these elevations have reference only to the prairies -at the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains. We must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span> -now glance at the mountains themselves, which form the -real obstacle to inter-oceanic lines of railroad.</p> - -<p>It might be inferred from this gradual slope of the -plains northwards, that the mountain-ranges followed the -same law, and decreased in a corresponding degree after -they passed the 49th parallel, but such is not the case; so -far from it, they only attain their maximum elevation in -52° N. latitude, where, from an altitude of 16,000 feet, -the summits of Mounts Brown and Hooker look down on -the fertile plains at the sources of the Saskatchewan River.</p> - -<p>As may be supposed, it is only here that the Rocky -Mountains present themselves in their grandest form. -Rising from a base only 3000 feet above the ocean, their -full magnitude strikes at once upon the eye of the beholder; -whereas, when looked at in the American States -from a standpoint already elevated 6000 or 7000 feet above -the sea, and rising only to an altitude of 10,000 or 12,000 -feet, they appear insignificant, and the traveller experiences -a sense of disappointment as he looks at their peaks thus -slightly elevated above the plain. But though the summits -of the range increase in height as we go north, the levels -of the valleys or passes, decrease in a most remarkable -degree.</p> - -<p>Let us look for a moment at these gaps which Nature -has formed through this mighty barrier. Twenty miles -north of the boundary-line the Kootanie Pass traverses -the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<p>The waters of the Belly River upon the east, and those -of the Wigwam River on the west, have their sources in -this valley, the highest point of which is more than 6000 -feet above sea-level.</p> - -<p>Fifty miles north of the Kootanie, the Kananaskiss Pass -cuts the three parallel ranges which here form the Rocky -Mountains; the height of land is here 5700 feet. Thirty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span> -miles more to the north the Vermilion Pass finds its highest -level at 4903; twenty miles again to the north the -Kicking Horse Pass reaches 5210 feet; then comes the -House Pass, 4500 feet; and, lastly, the pass variously -known by the names of Jasper’s House, Tête Jeune, and -Leather Pass, the highest point of which is 3400 feet.</p> - -<p>From the House Pass to the Tête Jeune is a little more -than sixty miles, and it is a singular fact that these two -lowest passes in the range have lying between them the -loftiest summits of the Rocky Mountains from Mexico to -the Arctic Ocean.</p> - -<p>The outflow from all these passes, with the exception of -the one last named, seeks on the east the river systems of -the Saskatchewan, and on the west the Columbia and its -tributaries. The Tête Jeune, on the other hand, sheds its -dividing waters into the Athabasca River on the east, and -into the Frazer River on the west.</p> - -<p>So far we have followed the mountains to the 53° of N. -latitude, and here we must pause a moment to glance back -at the long-projected line of the Canadian Pacific Railroad. -As we have already stated, it is now nearly twenty years -since the idea of a railroad through British America was -first entertained. A few years later a well-equipped expedition -was sent out by the British Government for the -purpose of thoroughly exploring the prairie region lying -between Red River and the Rocky Mountains, and also -reporting upon the nature of the passes traversing the -range, with a view to the practicability of running a railroad -across the continent. Of this expedition it will be -sufficient to observe, that while the details of survey were -carried out with minute attention and much labour, the -graver question, whether it was possible to carry a railroad -through British territory to the Pacific, appears to have -been imperfectly examined and, after a survey extending<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span> -us far north as the Jasper’s House Pass, but not including -that remarkable valley, the project was unfavourably reported -upon by the leader of the expedition.</p> - -<p>The reasons adduced in support of this view were strong -ones. Not only had the unfortunate selection of an astronomical -boundary-line (the 49th parallel) shut us out from -the western extreme of Lake Superior, and left us the -Laurentian wilderness lying north of that lake, as a -threshold to the fertile lands of the Saskatchewan and the -Red River; but far away to the west of the Rocky Mountains, -and extending to the very shores of the Pacific, there -lay a land of rugged mountains almost insurmountable to -railroad enterprise.</p> - -<p>Such was the substance of the Report of the expedition. -It would be a long, long story now to enter into the details -involved in this question; but one fact connected with “this -unfortunate selection of an astronomical line” may here be -pertinently alluded to, as evincing the spirit of candour, -and the tendency to sharp practice which the Great -Republic early developed in its dealings with its discarded -mother. By the treaty of 1783, the northern limit of the -United States was defined as running from the north-west -angle of the Lake of the Woods to the river Mississippi -along the 49th parallel; but as we have before stated, the -49th parallel did not touch the north-west angle of the -Lake of the Woods or the river Mississippi; the former lay -north of it, the latter south. Here was clearly a case for -a new arrangement. As matters stood we had unquestionably -the best of the mistake; for, whereas the angle of the -Lake of the Woods lay only a few miles north of the parallel, -the extreme source of the Mississippi lay a long, long way -south of it: so that if we lost ten miles at the beginning -of the line, we would gain 100 or more at the end of it.</p> - -<p>All this did not escape the eyes of the fur-hunters in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span> -early days of the century. Mackenzie and Thompson both -noticed it and both concluded that the objective point being -the river Mississippi, the line would eventually be run with -a view to its terminal definitions, the Lake of the Woods -and the Mississippi. In 1806, the United States Government -sent out two Exploring Expeditions into its newly-acquired -territory of Louisiana; one of them, in charge of -a Mr. Zebulon Pike of the American army, ascended the -Mississippi, and crossed from thence to Lake Superior. -Here are his remarks upon the boundary-line. “The -admission of this pretension” (the terminal point at the -river Mississippi) “will throw out of our territory the -upper portion of Red River, and nearly two-fifths of the -territory of Louisiana; whereas if the line is run due west -from the head of the Lake of the Woods, it will cross Red -River nearly at the centre, and strike the Western Ocean -at Queen Charlotte’s Sound. This difference of opinion, it -is presumed, might be easily adjusted between the two -Governments at the present day; but delay, <em>by unfolding -the true value of the country</em>, may produce difficulties which -do not now exist.”</p> - -<p>The italics are mine.</p> - -<p>Zebulon Pike has long passed to his Puritan fathers. -Twelve years after he had visited the shores of Lake Superior, -and long before our Government knew “the value of -the country” of which it was discoursing, the matter was -arranged to the entire satisfaction of Pike and his countrymen. -They held tenaciously to their end, the Lake of -the Woods; we hastened to abandon ours, the Mississippi -River. All this is past and gone; but if to-day we write -Fish, or Sumner, or any other of the many names which -figure in boundary commissions or consequential claims, -instead of that of Zebulon Pike, the change of signature -will but slightly affect the character of the document.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span></p> - -<p>But we must return to the Rocky Mountains. It has ever -been the habit of explorers in the north-west of America, -to imagine that beyond the farthest extreme to which they -penetrate, there lay a region of utter worthlessness. One -hundred years ago, Niagara lay on the confines of the -habitable earth; fifty years ago a man travelling in what -are now the States of Wisconsin and Minnesota, would -have been far beyond the faintest echo of civilization. -So each one thought, as in after-time fresh regions were -brought within the limits of the settler. The Government -Exploring Expedition of sixteen years since, deemed -that it had exhausted the regions fit for settlement when it -reached the northern boundary of the Saskatchewan valley. -The project of a railroad through British territory was -judged upon the merits of the mountains lying west of the -sources of the Saskatchewan, and the labyrinth of rock and -peak stretching between the Rocky Mountains and the -Pacific. Even to-day, with the knowledge of further -exploration in its possessions, the Government of the -Dominion of Canada seems bent upon making a similar -error. A line has been projected across the continent, which, -if followed, must entail ruin upon the persons who would -attempt to settle along it upon the bleak treeless prairies -east of the mountains, and lead to an expenditure west of -the range, in crossing the multitudinous ranges of Middle -and Southern British Columbia, which must ever prevent -its being a remunerative enterprise.</p> - -<p>The Tête Jeune Pass is at present the one selected for -the passage of the Rocky Mountains. This pass has many -things to recommend it, so far as it is immediately connected -with the range which it traverses; but unfortunately -the real obstacles become only apparent when its western -extremity is reached, and the impassable “divide” between -the Frazer, the Columbia, and the Thompson Rivers looms<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span> -up before the traveller. It is true that the cañon valley of -the North Thompson lies open, but to follow this outlet, is -to face still more imposing obstacles where the Thompson -River unites with the Frazer at Lytton, some 250 miles -nearer to the south-west; here, along the Frazer, the -Cascade Mountains lift their rugged heads, and the river -for full sixty miles flows at the bottom of a vast angle cut -by nature through the heart of the mountains, whose steep -sides rise abruptly from the water’s edge: in many places a -wall of rock.</p> - -<p>In fact, it is useless to disguise that the Frazer River -affords the sole outlet from that portion of the Rocky -Mountains lying between the boundary-line, the 53rd -parallel of latitude and the Pacific Ocean; and that the -Frazer River valley is one so singularly formed, that it -would seem as though some superhuman sword had at a -single stroke cut through a labyrinth of mountains for 300 -miles, down deep into the bowels of the land.</p> - -<p>Let us suppose that the mass of mountains lying west of -the Tête Jeune has been found practicable for a line, and -that the Frazer River has been finally reached on any part -of its course between Quesnelle and the Cascade range at -Lytton.</p> - -<p>What then would be the result?</p> - -<p>Simply this: to turn south along the valley of the river, -would be to face the cañons of the Cascades, between Lytton -and Yale. To hold west, would be to cross the Frazer -River itself, and by following the Chilcotin River, reach -the Pacific Ocean at a point about 200 miles north of the -estuary of the Frazer. But to cross this Frazer River -would be a work of enormous magnitude,—a work greater, -I believe, than any at present existing on the earth; for at -no point of its course from Quesnelle to Lytton is the -Frazer River less than 1200 feet below the level of the land<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span> -lying at either side of it, and from one steep scarped bank -to the other is a distance of a mile or more than a mile.</p> - -<p>How, I ask, is this mighty fissure, extending right down -the country from north to south, to be crossed, and a -passage gained to the Pacific? I answer that the <em>true -passage to the Pacific lies far north of the Frazer River</em>, and -that <em>the true passage of the Rocky Mountains lies far north -of the Tête Jeune Pass</em>.</p> - -<p>And now it will be necessary to travel north from this -Tête Jeune Pass, along the range of the Rocky Mountains.</p> - -<p>One hundred miles north of the Tête Jeune, on the east, -or Saskatchewan side of the Rocky Mountains, there lies a -beautiful land. It is some of the richest prairie land in the -entire range of the north-west. It has wood and water -in abundance. On its western side the mountains rise -with an ascent so gradual that horses can be ridden to the -summits of the outer range, and into the valley lying -between that range and the Central Mountain.</p> - -<p>To the north of this prairie country, lies the Peace -River; south, the Lesser Slave Lake; east, a land of wood -and muskeg and trackless forest. The Smoking River -flows almost through its centre, rising near Jasper’s -House, and flowing north and east until it passes into the -Peace River, fifty miles below Dunveyan. From the most -northerly point of the fertile land of the Saskatchewan, -to the most southerly point of this Smoking River -country, is about 100 or 120 miles. The intervening land -is forest or muskeg, and partly open.</p> - -<p>The average elevation of this prairie above sea level -would be under 2000 feet. In the mountains lying west -and north-west there are two passes; one is the Peace -River, with which we are already acquainted; the other is -a pass lying some thirty or forty miles south of the Peace -River, known at present only to the Indians, but well worth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span> -the trouble and expense of a thorough exploration, ere -Canada hastily decides upon the best route across its wide -Dominion.</p> - -<p>And here I may allude to the exploratory surveys which -the Canadian Government has already inaugurated. A -great amount of work has without doubt been accomplished, -by the several parties sent out over the long line from -Ottawa to New Westminster; but the results have not -been, so far, equal to the expenditure of the surveys, or to -the means placed at the disposal of the various parties. In -all these matters, the strength of an Executive Government -resting for a term of years independent of political parties, -as in the case of the United States, becomes vividly apparent; -and it is not necessary for us in England to seek in -Canada for an exemplification of the evils which militate -against a great national undertaking, where an Executive -has to frame a budget, or produce a report, to suit the -delicate digestions of evenly balanced parties.</p> - -<p>It would be invidious to particularize individuals, where -many men have worked well and earnestly; but I cannot -refrain from paying a passing tribute to the energy and -earnestness displayed by the gentlemen who, during the -close of the summer of 1872, crossed the mountains by the -Peace River Pass, and reached the coast at Fort Simpson, -near the mouth of the Skeena River.</p> - -<p>But to return to the Indian Pass, lying west of the -Smoking River prairies. As I have already stated, this pass -is known only to the Indians; yet their report of it is one -of great moment. They say (and who has found an Indian -wrong in matters of practical engineering?) that they can -go in three or four days’ journey from the Hope of Hudson -to the fort on Lake Macleod, across the Rocky Mountains; -they further assert that they can in summer take horses to -the central range, and that they could take them all the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span> -way across to the west side, but for the fallen timber which -encumbers the western slope.</p> - -<p>Now when it is borne in mind that this Lake Macleod -is situated near the height of land between the Arctic and -Pacific Oceans; that it stands at the head of the Parsnip -River (the south branch of the Peace); and that further, a -level or rolling plateau extends from the fort to the coast -range of mountains at Dean’s Inlet, or the Bentinck arm on -the coast of British Columbia, nearly opposite the northern -extreme of Vancouver’s Island; the full importance of this -Indian Pass, as a highway to the Pacific through the -Rocky Mountains, will be easily understood.</p> - -<p>But should this Indian Pass at the head of the Pine -River prove to be, on examination, unfit to carry a railroad -across, I am still of opinion that in that case the Peace -River affords a passage to the Western Ocean vastly superior -to any of the known passes lying south of it. What -are the advantages which I claim for it? They can be -briefly stated.</p> - -<p>It is level throughout its entire course; it has a wide, -deep, and navigable river flowing through it; its highest -elevation in the main range of the Rocky Mountains is -about 1800 feet; the average depth of its winter fall of -snow is about <em>three feet</em>; by the first week of May this -year the snow (unusually deep during the winter) had -entirely disappeared from the north shore of the river, and -vegetation was already forward in the woods along the -mountain base.</p> - -<p>But though these are important advantages for this -mountain pass, the most important of all remains to be -stated. From the western end of the pass to the coast -range of mountains, a distance of 300 miles across British -Columbia, there does not exist one single formidable impediment -to a railroad. By following the valley of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span> -Parsnip River from “the Forks” to Lake Macleod, the -Ominica range is left to the north, and the rolling plateau -land of Stuart’s Lake is reached without a single mountain -intervening; from thence the valley of the Nacharcole -can be attained, as we have seen in my story, without -the slightest difficulty, and a line of country followed to -within twenty miles of the ocean, at the head of Dean’s -Inlet.</p> - -<p>I claim, moreover, for this route that it is shorter than -any projected line at present under consideration; that it -would develope a land as rich, if not richer, than any -portion of the Saskatchewan territory; that it altogether -avoids the tremendous mountain ranges of -Southern British Columbia, and the great gorge of the -Frazer River; and, finally, that along the Nacharcole -River there will be found a country admirably suited to -settlement, and possessing prairie land of a kind nowhere -else to be found in British Columbia.</p> - -<p>With regard to the climate of the country lying east of -the mountains, those who have followed me through my -journey will remember the state in which I found the -prairies of Chimeroo on the 22nd and 23rd of April, snow -all gone and mosquitoes already at work. Canadians will -understand these items. I have looked from the ramparts -of Quebec on the second last day of April, and seen the -wide landscape still white with the winter’s snow.</p> - -<p>In the foregoing sentences I have briefly pointed out the -advantages of the Peace River Pass, the absence of mountain-ranges -in the valleys of the Parsnip and Nacharcole -Rivers, and the fertile nature of the country between the -Lesser Slave Lake and the eastern base of the Rocky -Mountains. It only remains to speak of the connecting -line between the Saskatchewan territory and the Smoking -River prairies.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span></p> - -<p>The present projected line through the Saskatchewan is -eminently unsuited to the settlement; it crosses the bleak, -poor prairies of the Eagle Hills, the country where, as -described in an earlier chapter, we hunted the buffalo -during the month of November in the preceding year. -For all purposes of settlement it may be said to lie fully -80 miles too far south during a course of some 300 or 400 -miles.</p> - -<p>The experience of those most intimately acquainted with -the territory points to a line <em>north</em> of the North Saskatchewan -as one best calculated to reach the country really -fitted for immediate settlement; a country where rich -soil, good water, and abundant wood for fuel and building -can be easily obtained. All of these essentials are almost -wholly wanting along the present projected route throughout -some 350 miles of its course.</p> - -<p>Now if we take a line from the neighbourhood of the -Mission of Prince Albert, and continue it through the -very rich and fertile country lying 20 or 30 miles to the -north of Carlton, and follow it still further to a point 15 -or 20 miles north of Fort Pitt, we will be about the centre -of the <em>true</em> Fertile Belt of this portion of the continent. -Continuing north-west for another 60 miles, we would -reach the neighbourhood of the Lac la Biche (a French -mission, where all crops have been most successfully cultivated -for many years), and be on the water-shed of the -Northern Ocean.</p> - -<p>Crossing the Athabasca, near the point where it receives -the Rivière la Biche, a region of <em>presumed</em> muskeg or swamp -would be encountered, but one neither so extensive nor of -as serious a character as that which occurs on the line at -present projected between the Saskatchewan and Jasper’s -House.</p> - -<p>The opinions thus briefly stated regarding the best<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span> -route for a Canadian-Pacific Railroad across the continent -result from no inconsiderable experience in the North-West -Territory, nor are they held solely by myself. I -could quote, if necessary, very much evidence in support -of them from the testimony of those who have seen portions -of the route indicated.</p> - -<p>In the deed of surrender, by which the Hudson’s Bay -Company transferred to the Government of Canada the -territory of the North-West, the Fertile Belt was defined -as being bounded on the north by the North Saskatchewan -River. It will yet be found that there are ten acres of -fertile land lying <em>north</em> of the North Saskatchewan for -every one acre lying south of it.</p> - -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<p>These few pages of Appendix must here end. There yet -remain many subjects connected with the settlement of -Indian tribes of the West and their protection against the -inevitable injustice of the incoming settler, and to these I -would like to call attention, but there is not time to do so.</p> - -<p>Already the low surf-beat shores of West Africa have -been visible for days, and ’midst the sultry atmosphere of -the Tropics it has become no easy task to fling back one’s -thoughts into the cold solitudes of the northern wilds.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Sierra Leone</span>, <i>October 15th, 1873</i>.</p> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes">Transcriber’s Notes</h2> - -<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made -consistent when a predominant preference was found -in the original book; otherwise they were not changed.</p> - -<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced -quotation marks were remedied when the change was -obvious, and otherwise left unbalanced.</p> - -<p>Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned -between paragraphs and outside quotations. In versions -of this eBook that support hyperlinks, the page -references in the List of Illustrations lead to the -corresponding illustrations.</p> - -<p>The missing part of the map was in the binding of the original book.</p> - -<p>In the Table of Contents, page references to the -first three chapters were off by 2, and have -been corrected here.</p> - -<p>Transcriber removed redundant hemi-title following -the List of Illustrations.</p> - -<p>Original text used “cortége” and “cortêge”. Although -neither is likely correct, this ebook uses “cortége.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_256">Page 256</a>: “household gods” was printed that way; -may be a typo for “household goods.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_334">Page 334</a>: “Kamtschatka” was printed that way.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WILD NORTH LAND ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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