CHAPTER VIII.
Milton visits Carlton—Fast Travelling—La Ronde and Bruneau set out for Fort Garry—Trapping with Misquapamayoo—Machinations against the Wolverine—The Animals’ Fishery—The Wolverine Outwits us—Return Home—The Cree Language—How an Indian tells a Story—New Year’s Day among the Crees—To the Prairies again—The Cold—Travelling with Dog-sleighs—Out in the Snow—Our New Attendants—Prospect of Starvation—A Day of Expectation—A Rapid Retreat—The Journey Home—Indian Voracity—Res Angusta Domi—Cheadle’s Journey to the Fort—Perversity of his Companions—“The Hunter” yields to Temptation—Milton’s Visit to Kekekooarsis—A Medicine Feast—The New Song—Cheadle’s Journey Home—Isbister and his Dogs—Mahaygun, “The Wolf”—Pride and Starvation—Our Meeting at White Fish Lake.
Milton visits Carlton—Fast Travelling—La Ronde and Bruneau set out for Fort Garry—Trapping with Misquapamayoo—Machinations against the Wolverine—The Animals’ Fishery—The Wolverine Outwits us—Return Home—The Cree Language—How an Indian tells a Story—New Year’s Day among the Crees—To the Prairies again—The Cold—Travelling with Dog-sleighs—Out in the Snow—Our New Attendants—Prospect of Starvation—A Day of Expectation—A Rapid Retreat—The Journey Home—Indian Voracity—Res Angusta Domi—Cheadle’s Journey to the Fort—Perversity of his Companions—“The Hunter” yields to Temptation—Milton’s Visit to Kekekooarsis—A Medicine Feast—The New Song—Cheadle’s Journey Home—Isbister and his Dogs—Mahaygun, “The Wolf”—Pride and Starvation—Our Meeting at White Fish Lake.
Onthe morning of the 24th of December, Milton harnessed our three Indian dogs to the little sleigh, and set out with Bruneau for the Fort. La Ronde remained with Cheadle at the hut, engaging to join the others at Carlton as soon as sufficiently recovered. Misquapamayoo had also arrived, to commence his service as attendant on Cheadle. We both spent our Christmas Eve somewhat drearily—Milton camping in the snow, half-way to Carlton, supping on pemmican and gallette, and Cheadle, in the hut, faring likewise; but the latter, feeling very dismal and un-Christmaslike, he and La Ronde unearthed thehidden rum cask, and established a weak conviviality by the aid of hot punch.
Milton and Bruneau went merrily along on their way to the Fort. The road had just been well beaten by the passage of trains to La Crosse; a slight thaw had followed, and the track was now frozen hard, so that the dogs galloped away with the lightly-laden sleigh at a tremendous pace over the ice. The two followed at speed, occasionally jumping on to the sleigh for a time, to gain breath again. But the cold was too great to allow a very long ride, and running was soon resumed. They travelled with such expedition that although it was afternoon when they left the hut, they travelled at least thirty miles before nightfall, camping beyond the crossing of the Shell River. Milton, eager beyond measure to arrive at the Fort in time to share the Christmas festivities, arose in the middle of the night, and succeeded in convincing Bruneau that it was nearly daybreak. They therefore harnessed the dogs and started again. To their surprise, the moon rose instead of the sun, but they kept on their way, and daybreak appeared after several hours. They arrived at Carlton just in time to sit down to Mr. Lillie’s Christmas dinner, having accomplished the journey of eighty miles in the wonderfully short time of twenty-six hours. Plum pudding and a bottle of sherry graced the board, and were both done full justice to by the company.
La Ronde came in on the 27th, and on the following day set out with Bruneau on their distant journey. They took with them two dog-sleighs, and the besttrains of dogs to be obtained at Carlton. The provision they expected to bring was four sacks of flour and thirty or forty pounds of tea; and the journey of 600 miles and back would occupy at least two months. The snow was now so deep that a track would require to be trodden out with snow-shoes to enable the dogs to travel, and the undertaking was certain to be very laborious. The route they intended to take was by Touchwood Hills and Fort Pelly on to the Manitobah Lake, and thence to Fort Garry.
Cheadle, now left with only the Indian boy, went off into the woods to make another attempt to circumvent his ancient enemy, the wolverine. With pack slung on his back, gun on shoulder, and axe in belt, little Misquapamayoo stalked along to lead the way, with all the dignity and confidence of a practised hunter. No track or sign escaped his observant eye, and he made and set traps, arranged the camp, cut wood, and cooked meals, with the readiness and skill of an old trapper. The heavier work of wood-chopping and the weightier pack fell, of course, to Cheadle’s share; but Misquapamayoo was indefatigable in performing everything in his power, and this was by no means contemptible, for he could carry weights and use an axe in a manner which would have surprised an English boy of the same age. He assumed an air of grave superiority over his companion in all things relating to the hunter’s or voyageur’s craft which was very amusing, although certainly justified by the facts of the case.
The two spent their time in the woods merrilyenough, for it was impossible to be dull with such a lively, light-hearted companion as Misquapamayoo. This may perhaps be thought strange when it is stated that Cheadle, when he set out, did not know more than two or three words of the Cree language. Yet this very circumstance was a prolific source of amusement, and nothing delighted the boy more than to instruct his companion, falling into fits of laughter at his mispronunciations and mistakes. The easy manner in which communication was carried on between the two, each ignorant of the other’s language, was very astonishing. But Misquapamayoo appeared to divine by instinct what was required, and it seemed difficult to believe at first that he really did not understand a word of English. The perceptions of an Indian are so nice, his attention so constantly on the alert, and his conclusions so rapidly formed, that he draws inferences from general signs with great readiness and accuracy.
The wolverine had renewed his visits along the line of traps, and broken all which had been reconstructed, devouring the animals which had been caught. Cheadle now adopted a device which he flattered himself would catch the enemy in his own toils. All the broken traps were repaired and set again, and poisoned baits substituted for the ordinary ones in the traps—not in every instance, but here and there along the line.
The forest in which we hunted commenced on the further side of our lake, stretching away to the north apparently indefinitely. This was broken only bynumerous lakes and swamps, and patches of timber which had been burnt. The lakes are always sought by the trapper, not only because they enable him to travel more rapidly, and penetrate further into the less hunted regions, but also because the edges of the lakes, and the portages between them, are favourite haunts of the fox, the fisher, and the mink. On one of these lakes a curious circumstance was observed. The lake was about half a mile in length, and of nearly equal breadth, but of no great depth. The water had seemingly frozen to the bottom, except at one end, where a spring bubbled up, and a hole of about a yard in diameter existed in the covering of ice, which was there only a few inches thick. The water in this hole was crowded with myriads of small fish, most of them not much larger than a man’s finger, and so closely packed that they could not move freely. On thrusting in an arm, it seemed like plunging it into a mass of thick stir-about. The snow was beaten down all round hard and level as a road, by the numbers of animals which flocked to the Lenten feast. Tracks converged from every side. Here were the footprints of the cross or silver fox, delicately impressed in the snow as he trotted daintily along with light and airy tread; the rough marks of the clumsier fisher; the clear, sharply-defined track of the active mink; and the great coarse trail of the ever-galloping, ubiquitous wolverine. Scores of crows perched on the trees around, sleepily digesting their frequent meals. Judging by the state of the snow and collection of dung, the consumption must havegone on for weeks, yet the supply seemed as plentiful as ever.
This circumstance afforded an explanation of the fact that many of the rivers and fresh-water lakes in this country are destitute of fish, as all but the deeper ones freeze to the bottom, and therefore any fish they contained would be destroyed.
When the trappers turned homewards they found that the wolverine had followed them closely. On the ground which they had passed over on the previous day, every trap was already demolished and the baits abstracted. Cheadle fondly imagined that at last his enemy was outwitted and destroyed, but Misquapamayoo’s sharper eyes discovered each of the baits which had been poisoned, lying close at hand, bitten in two and rejected, whilst all the others had disappeared. The baits had been made with great care, the strychnine being inserted into the centre of the meat by a small hole, and when frozen it was impossible to distinguish any difference in appearance between them and the harmless ones. It seemed as if the animal suspected poison, and bit in two and tasted every morsel before swallowing it. The baits had purposely been made very small, so that in the ordinary course they would have been bolted whole. That the same wolverine had frequented our path from the first, we knew perfectly well, for he was one of unusually large size, as shown by his tracks, which were readily distinguishable from the others we observed from time to time.
On the 28th of December, Milton left Carlton, and resting one night at Treemiss’s hut, arrived the following day at La Belle Prairie. Cheadle and Misquapamayoo had come in just before, and a very pleasant evening was spent in talking over all that had happened during the separation.
Associating entirely with Indians until the return of our men, we rapidly picked up the Cree language, and in the course of a few weeks could speak it fluently if not grammatically. Nothing is easier than to get a decent smattering of Cree, although the construction of the language is extremely intricate. The name of many articles is the explanation of their use or properties, the word being a combination of a participle and noun, the latter generally the wordgun, “a thing;” asparskisi-gun, a “shooting thing;”miniquachi-gun, a “drinking thing” or cup. This also appears in their proper names, which are generally descriptions of some personal peculiarity; as in the names Kekekooarsis and Keenamontiayoo, which have been mentioned before. The consonantsd,f, andlare not found in the Cree alphabet, and the Indians find great difficulty in pronouncing the two first when trying to use English words. The appropriate gestures and expressive pantomime with which an Indian illustrates his speech, render it easy to understand. We soon learnt to interpret without much difficulty the long hunting stories with which Keenamontiayoo whiled away the evenings in our hut. The scene described was partly acted; the motions of the game, the stealthy approach of the hunter, the taking aim,the shot, the cry of the animal, or the noise of its dashing away, and the pursuit, were all given as the tale went on.
We had arranged with Keenamontiayoo to start with him in a few days for the plains, intending to pay a visit to a small camp of Wood Crees, who we had heard were hunting buffalo about eighty miles off. We were, however, astonished on the evening of the last day of the year, by the arrival not only of the Hunter, but Kekekooarsis also, with their wives, children, and relatives. They seemed very much delighted with themselves, and were very complimentary to us. All quietly settled down and began to smoke. It was plain they intended to stay some time with us. As our room was so extremely small, we found it inconvenient to accommodate so many visitors, but all our efforts to understand their explanations were in vain, and we had to make the best of it.
On the following morning we were somewhat enlightened. At daybreak the men got up, and fired off a great many shots in honour of the new year. Then ensued a general shaking of hands all round, and a kissing of the women and children. The latter part of the ceremony we, however, very ungallantly omitted. We subsequently learnt that it is the custom for those who have nothing wherewith to feast, to visit their friends who may be in greater plenty; and our neighbours thought that they could not do better than with us. As theyhadcome, we hastened our departure, and set out with Keenamontiayooand his son, leaving old Kekekooarsis and the women in charge of the house until our return. We took with us two dog-sleighs, and travelled in snow-shoes, for the snow had now become far too deep to move without them. We had used them for short distances for some time, and had become tolerably expert, but found marching all day long in them very fatiguing at first. The Hunter led the way, his son followed driving one train of dogs, and we came next with the other.
After travelling a day and a half, we diverged from the track that La Ronde had taken, and steered a point or two more west. The country was, as before, a mixture of woods, lakes, and patches of open prairie, somewhat hilly, and difficult for sleighs. The weather turned intensely cold—far more severe than any we had before experienced. Light showers of snow fell in minute particles, as it were frozen dew, when the sun was shining brightly and the sky without a cloud. Clothed in three or four flannel shirts, one of duffel, and a leather shirt; our hands encased in “mittaines,” or large gloves of moose-skin lined with duffel, made without fingers, large enough to admit of being easily doffed on occasion, and carried slung by a band round the neck; our feet swathed in bands of duffel, covered by enormous moccasins; and our ears and necks protected by a curtain of fur, we were yet hardly able to keep warm with the most active exercise; and when we stayed to camp, shivered and shook as we essayed to light a fire.
Masses of ice, the size of a man’s fist, formed onCheadle’s beard and moustache—the only ones in the company—from the moisture of the breath freezing as it passed through the hair. The oil froze in the pipes we carried about our persons, so that it was necessary to thaw them at the fire before they could be made to draw. The hands could hardly be exposed for a moment, except when close to the fire. A bare finger laid upon iron stuck to it as if glued, from the instantaneous freezing of its moisture. The snow melted only close to the fire, which formed a trench for itself, in which it slowly sank to the level of the ground. The steam rose in clouds, and in the coldest, clearest weather, it almost shrouded the fire from view. The snow was light and powdery, and did not melt beneath the warmth of the foot, so that our moccasins were as dry on a journey as if we had walked through sawdust instead of snow. The parchment windows of our little hut were so small and opaque, that we could hardly see even to eat by their light alone, and were generally obliged to have the door open; and then, although the room was very small, and the fire-place very large, a crust of ice formed over the tea in our tin cups, as we sat within a yard of the roaring fire. One effect of the cold was to give a most ravenous appetite for fat. Many a time have we eaten great lumps of hard grease—rancid tallow, used for making candles—without bread or anything to modify it.4
When well sheltered by woods, and with an enormous fire blazing at our feet, sleeping in the open air was pleasant enough. Tents are not used for winter travelling, as the huge fire could not be made available. On arriving at the ground we selected for a camp, every one set to work as quickly as possible. One unharnessed the dogs and unpacked the sleighs; another collected dry logs; a third cut fine chips, and started the fire; whilst the fourth shovelled away the snow in front of the fire with a snow-shoe, and strewed the bare ground with pine branches. Then all squatted down, smoking and superintending the cooking of supper, the hungry dogs seated round, waiting anxiously for their share. A pipe and talk followed, and then each rolled himself in his blankets or buffalo robe, covering head and all, placed his feet as near to the fire as he dare, and slept. All huddled together as closely as possible, and when silence had reigned some time, the dogs crept softly in towards the fire, and lay between us, or at our feet. Before sleeping, however, it was necessary to secure out of reach of the dogs not only provisions, but snow-shoes, harness, and everything with any skin or leather about it. An Indian dog will devour almost anything of animal origin, and invariably eats his own harness, or his master’s snow-shoes, if left within his reach.
Our new attendants showed us the greatest attention,and indeed were extremely proud of serving the Soniow Okey Mow, and the Muskeeky Okey Mow, as they had named us, which, being interpreted, signifies the “Great Golden Chief,” and “My Master, the Great Medicine.” And we found constant amusement over our camp-fire at night in teaching them English words, and learning Cree. The circumstance that there were some words which were almost identical in the two languages—words which had been adopted from one language into the other—struck them as very ludicrous, and they never tired of laughing overpemmicàrn, “pemmican;”mùskisin, “moccasin;”shùgow, “sugar;” and the like. And when we used wrong words for others very similar, as we frequently did purposely—calling the old man Kekekooarsis, Kekwaharkosis, or the “Little Wolverine;” or an Indian named Gaytchi Mohkamarn, or “The Big Knife,” Matchi Mohkamarn, “The Evil Knife”—the joke was always irresistible, and they rolled about and held their sides in fits of laughter.
On the fourth day after leaving La Belle Prairie, we reached the camping ground, where we expected to meet Indians, but found the camp broken up, and saw by the tracks that the party had dispersed in various directions. We therefore kept on in a straight line for the prairie. The weather had become colder and colder, and as we passed over a large lake just before dark, the wind blew so keenly that our faces ached again, and our teeth chattered, although we hurried over it into a littlewood as rapidly as the dogs could go. Milton’s nose and cheeks were frost-bitten, and required careful rubbing to restore them. On the morrow, by the Hunter’s advice, we stayed in camp, while he went out alone to reconnoitre, and try and kill a buffalo. Our provisions were by this time reduced to a few handfuls of flour, and a little pemmican—hardly more than sufficient for that day’s consumption. We had started with a fair supply of white-fish and pemmican; but six dogs rapidly reduced it. Two fish a day, or three pounds of pemmican, is the regular allowance for a sleigh-dog when travelling; and the quantity required to satisfy a man in the cold winter is greater still. We therefore spent an anxious day, waiting for Keenamontiayoo’s return, wondering whether he would be successful in obtaining meat. We put ourselves upon short commons, and the dogs upon still shorter, and even went to the length of fixing upon one useless, toothless old fellow as a victim to our appetites, in case of extremity.
The day wore on slowly and monotonously, the cold was severe as ever, and we diligently cut and stacked a large supply of wood for the night fire. Night closed in around us, and we still watched in vain for the Hunter, and speculated whether the delay was a sign of his good luck or the reverse. Hours of darkness passed away, and yet we listened anxiously, expecting to hear the footfall of the returning Indian. Misquapamayoo became very uneasy, and sat silent and absorbed, listening intentlyfor his father’s step, and at last took to firing his gun at short intervals, to signal our whereabouts. No answering shot replied, but about midnight Keenamontiayoo appeared, bending beneath a load which, on nearer view, showed to our gloating eyes the heart, tongue, and other tit-bits of buffalo. These were soon cooked and eaten, and over our supper he told us that he had hunted all day without resting, but had not found a trace of buffalo. On his return, however, just before dark, he discovered a solitary bull, which he killed. The cold had so benumbed him that he was quite unable to cut any meat until he had made a large fire, and afterwards was detained a long time covering up the carcase with timber and snow, to protect it from the wolves.
The next morning we moved camp close to the dead buffalo, and spent that day in cutting him up, and collecting a good supply of dry wood, which was scarce at this place.
The following day we found two more buffalo, and succeeded in badly wounding one of them. Darkness came on before we could overtake him, but we found him next morning, having been pulled down and partly eaten by the wolves during the night.
At this time Milton’s face, which had been frost-bitten two days before, swelled up with erysipelas in a most alarming manner. We were 80 or 100 miles from home, without any protection from the extreme severity of the weather. We decided to cache a great part of the meat, and travel back to La Belle Prairie as fast as the dogs could go.
The afternoon was spent in securing the meat which we were compelled to leave behind, by enclosing it in a pyramid of logs, against which we heaped a high bank of snow. This, when well beaten down and frozen, held the timber firmly in position, and the Hunter declared it perfectly impregnable to a whole army of wolves, although a wolverine would certainly break it open if he found it.
The next morning a light load was placed on one sleigh, and on the other Milton, smothered in buffalo robe and blankets, was securely bound. Keenamontiayoo led the way, the boy followed driving one sleigh, and Cheadle brought up the rear, in charge of his patient on the other. The journey was very harassing and tedious. Our old track had been completely snowed up, and the wretched dogs were not equal to the emergency. Shushu, the leader, was willing, but young, thin, and weak; the middle one, Comyun, was aged and asthmatic; and the shafter, Kuskitaostaquarn, lame and lethargic. From morning to night the air resounded with howling, and the cries of the drivers anathematising Comyun and Kuskitaostaquarn. The sleighs constantly upset, from running against a stump or slipping over a hill-side; and when we hauled and strained to right them, the dogs lay down quietly, looking round at us, and not offering to pull an ounce to help. When the driver, aggravated beyond endurance, rushed up, stick in hand, and bent on punishment, they made frantic exertions, which only made matters worse, resumingtheir quiescent attitude the moment he returned to haul again at the sleigh; and all the time the unfortunate Milton lay, bound and helpless, half buried in the snow. In spite of all these hardships and difficulties, he rapidly recovered, and by the time we reached home, after three and a half days’ hard travelling, was nearly well.
On our arrival we found, to our surprise, that the women had made the hut very clean and tidy, but had consumed all the provision we left behind, and were, moreover, quite equal to a great feast on the meat we had brought. We had providentially locked up a little flour, and this was all that remained except the buffalo meat.
The Indians now returned to their homes, taking with them the greater part of the fresh meat, the Hunter engaging to return in a week to accompany us on a fresh expedition to the plains. To our astonishment, however, he appeared on the third day, in company with Misquapamayoo and Kekekooarsis, and informed us that provisions were exhausted. The meat they had carried away with them three days before appeared to us to be enough for a fortnight, but they assured us it was all eaten, that the ice had become so thick that it was impossible to catch any more fish, and that the only thing to be done was to be off to the plains again immediately. We were quite taken aback and disappointed, for we had counted on a large quantity of fish, with which old Kekekooarsis had promised to supply us from his fishery at White Fish Lake.
Our whole store consisted of a few pounds of meat, and a handful of flour. The Indians brought twenty-two fish, and had left thirteen with their families. This was, of course, absurdly insufficient for a five days’ journey to the plains, and then have the risk of not finding buffalo after all. We resolved upon a surer means of avoiding starvation, by going over to the Fort for pemmican.
Milton was still quite unfit to travel, and he was therefore obliged to remain behind, while Cheadle went to Carlton. We divided the food equally between us, and the latter set off with the Indians at once.
They journeyed rapidly on for the first day, and Cheadle confidently expected to reach Carlton on the evening of the second. The cold, however, was so severe, that the Indians refused to stir in spite of all his entreaties, and sat cooking and eating the few fish there were until afternoon, replying to all his expostulations and suggestions that it would be better to leave some food for the morrow, with the eternal “Keyarm” (It’s all the same).
After they had consumed all but two, he prevailed upon them to start, but after a few miles, they declared it was “osharm aimun” (too hard), alluding to the bitter cold, and camped again for the night. They had not yet got half way. Now the provisions were quite finished, and seeing the “Okey Mow” was really angry, they rose before daylight, not a whit uncomfortable or discontented with the knowledge that they had forty miles to march withempty stomachs, or pity for the unfortunate dogs who had now not tasted a morsel of food for two days. It was otherwise, however, with Cheadle. Toiling away on snow-shoes until noon, he experienced a wonderfully disagreeable sensation of emptiness, and a tendency to bend double; and his walking in this stooping attitude elicited frequent ridicule from the boy, who was vastly delighted, and kept crying, “Keeipah, keeipah” (Quickly, quickly). There was no help for it but to keep “pegging away,” and at dusk they gained the well-beaten trail about five miles from the Fort. Snow-shoes were doffed and tied on the sleighs; the dogs, knowing the end of the journey was near, set off at a gallop; and the “Muskeeky Okey Mow,” now quite recovered, astonished his companions by running ahead, and arriving first at the Fort.
The next day, when the provisions were ready for the Indians to set out with at once to the relief of Milton, Keenamontiayoo was discovered to be in a state of intoxication. By noon he was sufficiently sobered to start on the journey, and promised to make all possible haste. He was very much ashamed of himself, and penitent withal, more particularly because he had parted with a valuable hunting-knife, which he prized very highly, for a teacupful of rum. It was one which the “Soniow Okey Mow” had given him on our return from the plains, as a reward for his good behaviour to us, and he had vowed never to part with it. A little rum offered to him by one of the half-breeds, whocoveted the knife, overcame his resolution at once. The temptation is irresistible to an Indian.
After the departure of the party for the Fort, Milton spent a few days in monotonous solitude, eking out a scanty subsistence by the help of his gun. Concluding, however, that the society of Kekekooarsis even would be better than none, he put on his snow-shoes and marched over to White Fish Lake. But there food was even scarcer than at home. The fish were soon eaten, and the only supply then was an occasional marten, mink, or otter, trapped by Kekekooarsis, and a few partridges and rabbits, which Milton provided. But game was beginning to be scarce in the immediate neighbourhood, and the strait had become more than unpleasant when the Hunter and his son returned with the pemmican sent off by Cheadle.
After his return, Keenamontiayoo went out into the woods to hunt moose. For several days he had no success, and came back to perform a solemn invocation to the “Manitou”5to bless his next attempt. Drums were brought out, and rattles made of bladders with pebbles in them, “medicine” belts of wolf skin donned, and other “medicine,” or magic articles, such as ermine skins, and musk-rat skins covered with beads. The Hunter and his father-in-law drummed and rattled, and sang songs, finishing, after some hours, by a long speech whichthey repeated together, in which they promised to give some of the best meat to the Manitou if he granted success, and to compose a new song in his praise.
Before daylight Keenamontiayoo started, and at night returned in high glee, for his prayer had proved very efficacious, and he had killed two moose. The moose is a sacred animal, and certain portions of the meat—such as the breast, liver, kidneys, and tongue—must be eaten at once, and the whole consumed at a single meal. Women are not allowed to taste the tongue, and all scraps are burnt, never given to the dogs. The Hunter had brought the best part home with him, and Milton had the pleasure of joining in a great feast. Tit-bits were cut off and cast into the fire, as the promised offering to the Manitou, the men chanting and beating drums and rattles the while. Then all feasted to repletion, and Milton was kept from sleep by the persistency with which Keenamontiayoo sang the new song he pretended to have composed for the occasion, which he continued to sing over and over again without cessation till nearly daylight. As he had been out hunting all day, and busily engaged ever since his return, it is shrewdly suspected he attempted to impose upon his Manitou, by making shift with an old hymn, for he certainly could not have had much opportunity for composing the new one he had promised.
Cheadle had remained at the Fort to await the arrival of the winter express from Fort Garry, which comes once a year, bringing letters forCarlton, and the more distant forts. Dog-sleighs arrived from all quarters—Edmonton, La Crosse, Norway House, &c.—bringing letters for England, in return for those brought for them by the Red River train. It was a time of great excitement at the Fort, and when the tinkling of sleigh bells gave warning of an arrival, all rushed out to greet the new-comers and hear the latest news. We naturally expected a large batch of letters, the arrears of all sent from home since we left, for we had as yet received none. Dreadful was the disappointment, therefore, when the Fort Garry express came in, and the box of letters was seized and ransacked, to find not one for any of us. The only hope left was that La Ronde might bring some when he returned.
Cheadle was now anxious to return as soon as possible, although without the pleasant intelligence he had expected to carry with him. But there was some difficulty in finding the means of transport, and the cold was now so great that it would have been dangerous to cross open country without a sleigh on which to carry an ample supply of robes and blankets. At last an English half-breed, named Isbister, volunteered to accompany him with his train of dogs, if he could travel rapidly, so as to allow him to return to the Fort within three days, in order to join a party of hunters going to the plains.
The offer was gladly accepted, and at noon the two set out. The north wind blew very bitterly, thethermometer being down to thirty degrees below zero. The track was tolerably good, although not firm enough to allow snow-shoes to be dispensed with, and now rapidly drifting up. Away went the dogs with the lightly-laden sleigh, and Isbister and Cheadle strained their utmost to keep up, tearing along on their snow-shoes, with a motion and swinging of arms from side to side, like fen-skaters.
In spite of all this exertion, a very great many flannel shirts, a leathern shirt, duffel shirt, and thick Inverness cape over all, Cheadle was frost-bitten in many places—arms, legs, and face; and when they pulled up to camp for the night in a clump of pines, he was quite unable to strike a light, and even Isbister with difficulty accomplished it. With a roaring fire, sleeping fully clothed, with the addition of two buffalo robes and two blankets, it was impossible to keep warm, or rest long without being admonished, by half-frozen toes, to rise and replenish the fire. The dogs crept shivering up and on to the bed, passing, like their masters, a restless night. The thermometer on this night went down to thirty-eight degrees below zero, the greatest cold which was experienced during this winter—the lowest ever registered being forty-five degrees below zero.
The following morning they set forward again at a racing pace, and reached the hut before dark—very fast travelling indeed on snow-shoes, on a trail that was not in first-rate order. A man can, indeed, walk much faster on snow-shoes, with a fairtrack, than on the best road without them; but when the trail is frozen perfectly hard, the voyageur casts them off, and runs behind the dogs, who are able to gallop at great speed along the slippery path; and in this manner the most extraordinary journeys have been made.
On entering the hut it proved to be empty, Milton being still at White Fish Lake. They had observed strange footmarks leading to the hut as they crossed the lake, and were puzzled whose they could be. Some one had evidently visited the house that day, for the chimney was not yet cold, nor the water in the kettle frozen.
After feeding the dogs, and making a hasty supper on raw pemmican and tea, Isbister set to work to convert the sleigh into a rude cariole, or passenger sleigh. Then wrapping himself in robe and blanket, he seated himself therein, and in two hours after his arrival was on his way back again to Carl ton. The dogs ran in with him by eleven o’clock on the following morning, having accomplished upwards of 140 miles in less than forty-eight hours, and the last seventy without stopping for rest or food.
Cheadle meanwhile remained a prisoner at Fort Milton, being so stiff and sore from his unusual kind of exercise, and so lame from using snow-shoes, that he crept about slowly and painfully, to perform the necessary duties of cutting wood and cooking. As he sat over the fire in the evening, alone, in somewhat dismal mood, the door opened, and inwalked a French half-breed, of very Indian appearance. He sat down and smoked, and talked for an hour or two, stating that he was out trapping, and his lodge and family were about five miles distant. In due time Cheadle produced some pemmican for supper, when the visitor fully justified the sobriquet which he bore of Mahaygun, or “The Wolf,” by eating most voraciously. He then mentioned that he had not tasted food for two days. He had visited our hut the day before, lit a fire, melted some snow in the kettle, and waited for a long time, in the hope that some one might come in. At last he went away, without touching the pemmican which lay upon the table ready to his hand. The story was, doubtless, perfectly true, agreeing with all the signs previously observed, and the fact that the pemmican was uncut.
With the pangs of hunger gnawing at his stomach, and viewing, no doubt, with longing eyes the food around, he had yet, according to Indian etiquette, refrained from clamouring at once for food, but sat and smoked for a long time, without making the slightest allusion to his starving condition. When, in due course, his host offered him something to eat, he mentioned the wants of himself and family. The next day he left, carrying with him supplies for his squaw. He was exceedingly grateful for the assistance, and promised to return in a day with his wife, who should wash and mend all our clothes, as some acknowledgment of the kindness.
Cheadle, being now somewhat recovered fromhis late severe journey, strapped on his snow-shoes, and set out to seek Milton amongst the Indians at White Fish Lake. He suffered so severely from snow-shoe lameness, however, that he with difficulty accomplished the nine or ten miles’ journey by nightfall. Opening the door of the hut, he discovered the old squaw—frying-pan in hand—engaged in cooking the evening pemmican, and was warmly received by all, Milton being quite tired of living entirely amongst savage society, and the Indians always ready to welcome the white man hospitably. The Hunter and Misquapamayoo were absent, having gone to bring in the meat of a moose, which the former had killed. We returned home on the following day, leaving word for the two Indians to join us as soon as possible.