The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea
“Take care,” cried Swiftfoot, as we stepped on board; and not without reason, for though accustomed to University eight-oars, we as nearly as possible pitched head foremost out on the other side of our frail barks, to the great risk of capsizing them and spoiling our goods.
Trevor and Swiftfoot went in one canoe, I with Peter and Ready in the other; and the crews, with stores and provisions, were evenly divided between us. Away we paddled across the lake, our Indians striking up a song of the character of “Row, brothers! row!” but not so melodious. All day we paddled, and camped at night. When we came to a portage we jumped out. Two men carried each canoe; the rest loaded themselves with her cargo and bore it on their shoulders half a mile, or perhaps two or three, or more, till smooth water was again reached.
On those occasions we sighed for tramways over which we could run swiftly with cargo and canoes. Every portage has its name, and so, indeed, has every point, stream, and isle, for ages the fur traders’ canoes have been traversing this country, and to these people every mile is known. We indulged in small tents for sleeping; but our beds were the hard rocks sprinkled with spruce-fir-tops and covered with rugs.
I have not described our canoes. They were formed of the bark of the white birch-tree, peeled off in large sheets and bent over a slender frame of cedar ribs confined by gunwales, which are kept apart by slender bars of the same wood. A thread called called wattap, made out of the flexible roots of the young larch-tree, is used to sew the sheets of bark together and to secure them to the gunwales, which have thus the appearance of an Indian basket. The joinings are made water-tight by a coating of tamarack gum put on hot, or by the pitch of the yellow pine. The seats are suspended from the gunwales so as not to press against the sides. The stem and stern are alike, the sheets of bark being cut into a graceful curve, and are frequently ornamented with beads or coloured moose hair. Ours carried six men each, and our baggage and provisions, and were so light that a couple of men lifted them out of the water and ran along with them over the roughest ground with the greatest ease. They are urged on by light paddles with broad blades, and are steered by another of the same shape. For several days we paddled on – making no great speed, however, for across lakes in calm weather we seldom did more than four miles an hour – when Trevor used to sing out, “Oh, for an eight-oar; oh, for an eight-oar! how we would make her spin along.” However, I persuaded him that we were better as we were – because, in case of being snagged, not having a boat-builder at hand, we should have been puzzled to repair her.
For several days we paddled on without meeting with any actual adventure, although objects of interest were not wanting during every hour of the day. We passed through the Lake of the Thousand Lakes and camped on its shores before beginning our descent of the river Seine. The night passed calmly. I awoke early: the stars were slightly paling, a cold yellow light had begun to show itself in the east, on the lake rested a screen of dense fog, through which a host of Indians bent on our destruction might have been approaching without my being able to discover them; landward was a forest equally impenetrable. Walking a step or two from the camp I heard a sudden rush. I started, and cocked my smooth-bore, but nothing appeared, and I guessed that it was a fox, minx, or marten, prowling close by, attracted by the remains of last night’s supper. From the expiring camp-fires a thin volume of smoke rose up above the trees and then spread lakewards, to join the damp misty veil which hid the quiet waters from view. Round the fires were the silent forms of the Indians lying motionless on their backs, wrapped in their blankets, like shrouded corpses stretched at full length. Two or three were under the canoes, and Swiftfoot had taken post in front of Trevor’s tent. As dawn advanced an Indian awoke, uncovered his face, and sitting upon his haunches, looked round from beneath the folds of his blanket, which he had drawn over his head. After a few minutes a low “waugh” from his throat made some of the others unroll themselves and begin blowing at the fire and adding fresh fuel. A few minutes were spent by the French voyageurs in prayer, and then the rest of the party being roused, the tents were struck, and our early meal, consisting of fried dampers and fish, biscuits, with hot coffee and tea, sweetened, but without milk, enjoyed. The canoes were then launched.
“No frying-pans, hatchets, or other valuables left behind?” sang out Trevor, who acted as commander-in-chief.
Each man examined the property committed to his charge, and all being found right, we paddled down the stream as usual.
Here let me advise those engaged in similar expeditions to be careful about such trifles, for a party may be brought to a standstill, and lives endangered, by the loss of articles which may appear, at the moment, of little value.
Now and then we came to rapids which it was deemed tolerably safe to shoot. We had performed this feat twice when we came to another. We had got through the greater part when, as we were dashing on amid the foam, the stern swiftly turning round, we grazed a rock.
“A narrow shave!” I exclaimed, thinking we were safe, but Peter’s cry of —
“Oh, sir! oh, sir! the water is a running in, and we shall all be drowned!”
“Stick your thumb into it,” cried Trevor, from the other canoe, which was just ahead, and had escaped all danger. This the lad did literally, but the water spouted up all round his arm.
“Never mind,” exclaimed “Longshot,” the chief of my canoe, “we shall go on till the next portage.”
But the water kept rising and rising till we had three inches of it inside the canoe. This was more than I bargained for, and as the cargo would be injured even if we did not sink, I insisted on landing. The chief trouble was unlading the canoe; for a piece of bark sewed on with wattap, and covered over with gum melted with a burning stick, soon repaired the damage.
Thus we made good three hundred and eighty-one miles, counting the sinuosities of the course, and found ourselves encamped on the north-west corner of the beautiful Lake of the Woods. I say beautiful, for no part of North America presents more lovely and picturesque lake scenery – here bare precipitous rocks, there abrupt timbered hills of every form, and gentle wooded slopes and open grassy areas, while islands of every variety of form and size dot the blue expanse.
There was the usual fog resting on the surface of the lake as I turned out in the morning before the rest of the party, whom I was about to rouse up, when my ear caught the sound of paddles approaching the camp. That they were Indians there could be no doubt, and I thought that they were probably on a journey and would pass by without observing us. Swiftfoot had not given the Wood Indians of this district the best of characters, yet, as they had always shown a friendly disposition towards the English, we heard, we had no cause to apprehend danger from them. Still, I knew that it was necessary when travelling in those regions to be on our guard, and I therefore stood still, expecting to hear the sound of the paddles gradually decrease as they passed by. Suddenly, however, a light puff of wind lifted the veil of mist, and exposed to view nearly a dozen large canoes filled with painted and feather-bedecked Indians, evidently a war-party, and coming directly for our camp.
“Indians! Quick, to your feet!” I shouted out, having no fancy to be murdered through too much ceremony, or by putting over-confidence in a band of savages.
In an instant Trevor stood with his revolver in one hand and his fowling-piece in the other, ready to do battle. Peter, with his fists doubled, and the rest with their different weapons prepared for use, while Ready showed his teeth and barked furiously to make amends for his previous carelessness.
On seeing our preparations a young chief stood up in the bow of the leading canoe, and waving his hand, stated that he was coming on a peaceable errand.
“My father, the chief, will be here anon – he sent me on to announce his coming.”
Finding that resistance would be almost hopeless if they meant evil, putting the best face we could on matters, we begged the young chief to land and sit down and smoke the calumet of peace, or, as Trevor expressed it, “take his pipe and make himself at home.” He was a talkative youngster, and seemed very proud of having killed two or three men in a war expedition against the Sioux, from which he had just returned, exhibiting to our unpleased eyes the fresh scalps he had taken. We found that he had brought them all down at long shots. Indeed, Red-men, notwithstanding all that has been said in their praise by novel writers, have a very unheroic notion of fighting. Trevor called it an “unsportsmanlike way of bagging their game.”
Our blood-thirsty young acquaintance smoked several pipes, drank a quart of tea, and talked of affairs in general, but left us as much in the dark as ever as to the reason of his coming, though he informed us that our fire had been seen in the evening; but that, unwilling to disturb us, he had postponed his visit till daylight. His followers had, meantime, landed and squatted round us in the most amicable manner – my dog Ready being the only one of the party who exhibited any hostile feeling, and he was in no way satisfied with the appearance of the ill-looking war-begrimed strangers. Our principal annoyance arose from being unable to proceed, which we could not venture to do till the appearance of the chief. At length his fleet of nearly twenty canoes hove in sight, and he soon landed, and with all the pomp and dignity he could assume, demanded the reason of our passing through his country. We replied, through Swiftfoot, that we were on a journey of pleasure, desiring to pass on to the big sea in the far-west, to hunt the buffalo, and shoot a grizzly if we could; in fact, to inspect the country and kill time.
After listening attentively, he gave a significant “ugh!” observing that we might or might not be speaking the truth, but that certainly we were more likely to meet pain than pleasure, that too many buffalo were hunted already, but that was no business of his, and that as to grizzlies, he knew nothing of them in his part of the country, nor of a big lake in the far-west, and that we could kill time far better at home; but there was one thing he did know, that the white people had deceived the Red-men so often, and had occupied their lands, so that with his will no one should pass through his country, which lay between the Lake of the Woods and the Red River. We took a few minutes to deliberate what to say, and then instructed Swiftfoot to inform the chief that he was a very wise man, but that he was labouring under one slight error, the fact being that the whole country belonged to the Queen of England, that he and his people were her subjects, and that so were we; that she desired all her subjects to be friendly to each other; that she was very angry with those who were not, and made presents to those who were; that we should set a good example by not passing through the country he claimed, though we were afraid she might be very much vexed at hearing of his want of courtesy, still to show him of our friendly disposition we proposed presenting him with some tobacco, hatchets, and blankets, although we had not come provided with presents. He looked completely taken aback on hearing this, and ended by sending two of his young men as guides down the Winnipeg River, the course we had intended to pursue.
We visited an island in the lake, a large portion of which was cultivated, and produced Indian corn, potatoes, squashes, and pumpkins; pigeons and a variety of birds flew over our heads, and fish swarmed in the lakes and streams we passed through. We stopped on our way at two or three Hudson’s Bay Company’s trading-posts. They are generally situated on commanding positions, surrounded by stockades which would serve to keep out a predatory party of Indians. We also visited a missionary station, that of Islington, established by an English lady, Mrs Sandon, of Bath. The missionary, Mr Macdonald, has long laboured among the Red-men, instructing them in the truths of the Gospel, teaching them agriculture, and educating their children in his schools with more success generally than the adults.
It took us nearly three weeks to voyage from Fort William to the mouth of the Red River, which we reached by a traverse across Lake Winnipeg. We ascended that river to a settlement of Christian Indians, presided over by an English clergyman, where we left our canoes and boatmen till we should again require them, and proceeded up, on horseback, to the main settlements, some rapids impeding this part of the navigation of the Red River.
In contrast to the wild scenery through which we had so long been travelling, the Selkirk settlements presented an aspect of civilisation and advancement which we had not expected. There were good roads, houses, churches, schools, mills, stores, large farms and small farms, and a cathedral and nunnery belonging to the Roman Catholics. There is no town in the settlement, but there is a large, tolerably strong fort, that of Fort Garry, on the point of land where the Assiniboine River falls into the Red River, and for twenty miles or so, on the banks of the two streams, the buildings I have described have been raised in groups or knots, forming separate hamlets, with, in most instances, a church and school-house for each. I might give a long and interesting account of the settlement, but such is not my aim. I will merely remark that the farms were well-stocked, and showed a variety and an abundance of produce; that horses and cattle lived out and grew fat on the native grasses throughout the winter, that so too did pigs in the woods on acorns and roots; and that all the inhabitants required to become wealthy and prosperous, was a regular market for their produce.
Chapter Fifteen
We get up a Buffalo Hunt – We engage Stalker and Garoupe, two Half-caste Hunters – Pemmican – The Hunt – I get Floored by a huge Bison, but am carried to Camp in his Skin – Hostile Sioux, and a Brush with them – We cross the Assiniboine – La Prairie PortageTrevor and I now formed our first hunting expedition. Buffalo, or rather bison-hunting, had long been our day-dream, and had formed the chief subject of our conversation as we paddled along in our canoes, or when seated round our camp-fires at night, so now we determined to make a beginning. We engaged a couple of half-breeds as guides and hunters, one was of English, the other of French parentage. One was called John Stalker, the other Pierre Garoupe. They were both bold, active fellows, and each amusingly tenacious of the honour of the country from which his father came. There was no want of good horses in the settlement, courageous, hardy animals, trained to hunt the buffalo, and taught to stand still should their rider be thrown, or any accident happen to him. The carts of the country are built entirely of wood, without a nail, and consequently float across rivers, and if broken, are easily repaired. We bought four of these carts to carry our tent, provisions, ammunition, and clothing. A large body of half-breed hunters, with their wives and children, had gone on before, towards the south-west, where the buffalo were said to have appeared in great numbers, on their way to the northward, and we hoped, by pushing on, to overtake the band in time to see some of the sport.
John Stalker gave us much information about these hunting expeditions. Great regularity is observed. Each man has his own cart or carts and horses. The band is divided into companies, with a chief to each, and constables, and a leader over the whole, whose word is supreme both in camp and on the hunting field. We found ourselves in a new kind of scenery. Here, and there were separate woods, but our course chiefly lay over the open prairie, a boundless expanse of waving grass. The greatest risk in dry weather in such a country is from fire; should it once become ignited no human power can arrest its progress, and Heaven have mercy on the hapless hunter whom it overtakes. The fleetest steed will scarcely escape if flying before it. We found from the fresh tracks that we were near the hunters, and at length we came upon them encamped, the women making pemmican, and the men cleaning their arms, or doing nothing. Pemmican is the staple food of all the hunters and travellers throughout the country. In the Cree tongue Pemmi means meat, and Kon fat. The flesh of the buffalo is cut up in strips and hung on poles to dry. Then it is pounded between two stones till the fibres separate. About fifty pounds of this meat are put into a bag of buffalo skin with forty pounds of hot melted fat, thoroughly mixed with it. A nicer sort contains berries and sugar, and is highly prized. It keeps for years, subject to wet, cold, or damp. One pound is considered equal to three of ordinary meat.
Having introduced ourselves to the leader of the party, and invited him to come and sup with us, we encamped in a position he assigned to us, and made preparations for the next day’s hunt. By early dawn, Trevor and I, followed by Peter, were in the saddle – the latter from his childhood had been accustomed to horses, and was now perfectly at home on horseback. I spoke of the Crees. They inhabit the country to the south and east of Lake Winnipeg, and the half-breeds are chiefly related to them on the mothers’ side.
It was a fine sight to see the band of hunters marshalled in order, advance towards the spot where the buffaloes, as the bisons are here called, were said to be feeding. I could not help thinking, as I watched them, what splendid light cavalry they would make, for the defence of the country against their encroaching neighbours, or mounted police, or irregular cavalry for any purpose. Trevor, too, was much struck with the scene. “We try to civilise the Red-men,” he remarked; “very good, and I don’t see any impossibility; but I do see the bungling manner in which we set about it. We try to make men who have been all their lives on horseback, or, with rifle in hand, have hunted buffaloes, deer, or grizzlies, or been accustomed to the trapping of small game, sit quietly down as farmers, gardeners, or carpenters, and attend school and church, Sundays and week days, without any approach to amusement, or what is still more absurd, without finding them any market for the produce of their industry when they are industrious. Teach them Christianity, and civilise them by all means, but introduce canoe races, horse races, foot races, shooting matches, foot-ball, cricket, all sorts of games, – anything, in fact, suitable to their bodily and mental powers, and open up the country; send people to buy their produce, and employ them as postillions, mail carriers, ostlers, cattle drovers, ferrymen; and at the same time keep them as much as possible separate from white men, under good guidance and instruction, and I have some hope that they will not decrease in numbers, and that they will become civilised in reality as well as nominally.”
Trevor had got thus far when the advanced guard made a signal for silence to be kept. We each of us stood up in our stirrups, and looking out ahead caught sight of numberless dark objects covering the prairie, far as the eye could reach, from north to south.
The wind blew from them, so that we might hope to get near without being perceived. The hunters now examined their saddle-girths, loaded their guns, and looked to their primings or percussion caps, and filled their mouths with bullets that they might drop them into their guns, without wadding, while at full gallop. The elder we heard cautioning the less experienced, and with good reason, not to shoot each other – a contingency I thought very likely to occur. Cautiously at first we approached the herd, clutching our weapons and bending forward eagerly, ready to dash on at a moment’s notice. Before us was a very large herd of buffaloes. On we went still unperceived – even the sagacious horses seemed to tread cautiously. At length some of the nearest animals lifted up their shaggy bearded heads. Our leader gave the signal – we were discovered. No further need now for silence. Our steeds sprang forward – off we dashed, and, scampering along at full speed, were soon in the midst of the more tardy-moving animals, each hunter firing right and left into the animal nearest him on either hand. It was like a naval engagement in days of yore, when a British fleet got among the enemy. In this instance, each hunter was widely separated from his companions, and only now and then the unfortunate chase turned to show fight. Even that was hopeless, for the well-trained horse, wheeling or leaping aside, knew as well as his rider how to avoid the charge of the furious buffalo, which was certain in the course of a few seconds to be brought low.
As each hunter killed an animal he dropped some article of his property to denote his prey, a handkerchief, tobacco box, knife, steel, and then galloped on, slaughtering right and left. I had told Peter to keep near me, lest any accident should happen to the lad; but carried away by the excitement of the chase, he separated from me, and Trevor very quickly disappeared. I was in high glee, for I had rolled over two buffaloes in succession. On I galloped, and brought down a third. I fired at a fourth, a huge bull, but though I hit him he did not fall, and before I could check the speed of my horse to load, the animal put his foot in a badger’s hole, and down he came, throwing me over his head. As I was on my way to the ground it seemed I looked up and beheld the huge buffalo, with his hairy head bent down, dashing towards me. I had no power of defending myself. I saw his red, fiery eyes close to me, felt his hot breath on my cheek, and gave myself up for lost. I remembered nothing more but a most horrible sensation of suffocation. I had remained some time in that condition, when I heard voices near me, and recognised Peter’s tones. “Yes, yes, that is my dear master,” he exclaimed. “Yes, Master Stalker, and he be coming to life again, I do believe. Hurra! hurra!”
On this I felt myself lifted up and carried to a little distance, when I was again put down. In a few minutes I was placed in a litter formed, I afterwards found, of the skin of the very buffalo which had so nearly finished me.
The shots I had put into him, though not instantaneously fatal, had produced his death at the moment he was about to gore me, and his huge body had fallen over, completely above me. Poor Peter, when the hunt was over, and the hunters were returning to camp, had searched about for me in every direction, till he was in perfect despair. At length a buffalo I had killed was discovered, and my course tracked till I was found under the body of my fourth victim. The lad had killed a buffalo, and Trevor boasted of knocking over six, so that he was well content with this result of his first hunt in British North America.
A considerable number of animals had been killed, and now the carts came up to carry off the flesh to be converted forthwith into pemmican, in the manner already described. There was a terrible waste of food even in this instance.
I was for several days unable to mount my horse, but had recovered completely by the time the pemmican was prepared and the camp broken up. It had been arranged that we were to begin the homeward march the next day, when the scouts, always kept actively employed on such occasions, brought in word that they had discovered the trail of a band of Sioux, their hereditary foes, and had followed it up till they found them encamped not more than a day’s journey from where we were – in American territory. A council of war was held immediately. It was agreed by the hunters that if they did not attack the Sioux, the Sioux would follow and attack them and take them unawares.
Trevor and I at once came to the opinion that it was our duty to be non-combatants; and, indeed, we counselled our friends to retreat without attacking the Sioux, and to trust to their own vigilance not to be taken by surprise. This advice was very unpalatable to the tastes of the hunters, and was totally disregarded. As far as the principles of the half-breeds are concerned we found them very little in advance of the Indians, though they pique themselves, as a mark of their civilisation, on not taking scalps. Trevor even offered to visit the camp of the Sioux, and to try and negotiate terms of peace. To this proposal, however, they would not a moment listen, declaring that he would lose his life in the attempt. The council broke up, and a war-party having been arranged, forthwith set out. They advanced with caution, with scouts thrown out to examine any ground which could possibly afford a spot for an ambush.
