Rob’s plans were approved by Alex and Moise, and worked out so well that by noon of the next day the entire party had reassembled at the rendezvous. TheJaybirdwas the first boat to be loaded, the men getting her down the steep bank with small delay and taking a rapid run of a couple of miles or so down the river soon thereafter. After a little time they concluded to wait for the other men who had gone down the river-bank to secure the dugout of an old Indian, who, it seems, was known as Picheu, or the Lynx.
“I don’t know about a dugout, Moise,” said Rob. “There may be bad water below here.”
“No, not very bad water,” said Moise. “I’ll ron heem on steamboat many tam! But those dugout she’ll been good boat, too. I s’pose she’ll been twenty foot long an’ carry thousand pound all right.”
“Well,” Rob answered, “that will do us aswell as a steamboat. I wonder why the oldvoyageursnever used the dugout instead of the birch-bark—they wouldn’t have had to mend it so often, even if they couldn’t carry it so easily.”
“I’ll tell you, fellows,” said Jesse, who was rather proud of his overland trip by himself, “the fur trade isn’t what it used to be. At those posts you don’t see just furs and traps, and men in blanket-coats, and dog-trains. In the post here they had groceries, and axes, and calico dresses, and hats, just like they have in a country store. I peeked in through the windows.”
Alex smiled at them. “You see,” said he, “you’ve been looking at pictures which were made some time ago perhaps. Or perhaps they were made in the winter-time, and not in the summer. At this season all the fur packets have gone down the trail, and they don’t need dog-trains and blanket-coats. You ought to come up here in the winter-time to get a glimpse of the old scenes. I’ll admit, though, that the fur-posts aren’t what they were when I was a boy. You can get anything you like now, from an umbrella to a stick of toffy.”
“Where?” asked John, suddenly, amid general laughter.
“The toffy? I’m sure we’ll find some at Peace River Landing, along with plows and axes and sewing-machines, and all that sort of thing!”
“But the people pay for them all with their furs?” inquired Rob.
“For the most part, yes. Always in this part of the country the people have lived well. Farther north the marten have longer fur, but not finer than you will find here, so that they bring just as good prices. This has always been a meat country—you’ll remember how many buffalo and elk Mackenzie saw. Now, if the lynx and the marten should disappear, and if we had to go to farming, it still would be the ‘Land of Plenty,’ I’m thinking—that’s what we used to call it. If we should go up to the top of these high banks and explore back south a little bit, on this side of the Smoky, you’d see some of the prettiest prairies that ever lay out of doors, all ready for the plow. I suppose my people some time will have to use the plow too.”
“Yes,” assented Rob, “I remember Mackenzie’s story, how very beautiful he found this country soon after he started west on his trip.”
“My people, the Crees, took this country from others long ago,” said Alex, ratherproudly. “They came up the old war-trail from Little Slave Lake to the mouth of the Smoky, where the Peace River Landing is now. They fought the Beavers and the Stoneys clear to the edges of the Rockies, where we are now. They’ve held the land ever since, and managed to make a living on it, with or without the white man’s help. Some of us will change, but men like At-tick, the old Indian who brought Jess across the trail, and like old Picheu, below here, aren’t apt to change very much.”
John was once more puzzling at the map which the boys had made for themselves, following the old Mackenzie records. “I can’t figure out just where Mackenzie started from on his trip, but he says it was longitude 117° 35′ 15″, latitude 56° 09′. Now, that doesn’t check up with our map at all. That would make his start not very far from the fort, or what they call the Peace River Landing to-day, I should think. But he only mentions a ‘small stream coming from the east,’ although Moise says the Smoky is quite a river.”
“Most people think Mackenzie started from Fort Chippewayan,” said Alex, “but as a matter of fact, he wintered far southwest of there, on the Peace River, somewhere betweenthree hundred and four hundred miles south and west of Fort Vermilion, as I gather from the length of time it took him to get to the edge of the Rockies, where we are now. He mentions the banks getting higher as he went south and west. When you get a couple of hundred miles north of the Landing the banks begin to get low, although at the Landing they’re still almost a thousand feet high above the water-level, at least eight hundred feet, I should say.”
“Well,” said Rob, “we know something about this country ourselves now, and we’ll make a map of it some time, perhaps—a better one than we have now.”
“Yes,” said Jesse, “but who can draw in that horse-trail from Hudson’s Hope to the head of the steamboat transport? I’d like to see that trail!”
“I suppose we could get on the steamboat some time before long if we wanted to,” said John.
“No,” said Alex, “hardly again this summer, for she’s made her last trip with supplies up to Fort St. John by now.”
“We don’t want any steamboat, nor anything else,” said Rob, “except to go on down on our own hook, the way we started. Let’s be as wild as we can!”
“We’re apt to see more game from here down than we have any place on the trip,” said Alex. “You know, I told you this was the Land of Plenty.”
“Bimeby plenty bear,” said Moise. “This boy Billy, he’ll tol’ me ol’ Picheu he’ll keel two bear this last week, an’ he’ll say plenty bear now all on river, on the willows.”
“Well, at any rate,” said Alex, “old Picheu himself is coming.”
“How do you know?” asked Jesse.
“I hear the setting-pole.”
Presently, as Alex had said, the dugout showed its nose around the bend. At-tick and Billy, Jesse’s two friends, were on the tracking line, and in the stern of the dugout, doing most of the labor of getting up-stream, was an old, wrinkle-faced, gray-haired and gray-bearded man, old Picheu himself, in his time one of the most famous among the hunters of the Crees, as the boys later learned. He spoke no English, but stood like some old Japanese war-god on the bank, looking intently from one to the other as they now finished their preparations for re-embarking. He seemed glad to take the money which Rob paid him for the dugout and shook hands pleasantly all around, to show his satisfaction.
The boys saw that what Moise had saidabout the dugout was quite true. It was a long craft, hewed out of a single log, which looked at first crankier than it really was. It had great carrying capacity, and the boys put a good part of the load in it, which seemed only to steady it the more. It was determined that Rob and Moise should go ahead in this boat, as they previously had done in theMary Ann, the others to follow with theJaybird.
Soon all the camp equipment was stowed aboard, and the men stood at the edge of the water ready to start. Their old friends made no comment and expressed little concern one way or the other, but as Rob turned when he was on the point of stepping into the leading boat he saw Billy standing at the edge of the water. He spoke some brief word to Alex.
“He wants to say to Mr. Jess,” interpreted Alex, “that he would like to make him a present of this pair of moccasins, if he would take them from him.”
“Would I take them!” exclaimed Jesse; “I should say I would, and thank him for them very much. I’d like to give him something of mine, this handkerchief, maybe, for him to remember me by.”
“He says,” continued Alex, “that whenyou get home he wishes you would write to him in care of the priest at St. John. He says he hopes you’ll have plenty of shooting down the river. He says he would like to go to the States when he gets rich. He says his people will talk about you all around the camp-fire, a great many times, telling how you crossed the mountains, where so few white men ever have been.”
“I’ll tell you what, boys,” said Rob, “let’s line up and give them all a cheer.”
So the three boys stood in a row at the waterside, after they had shaken hands once more with the friends they were leaving, and gave them three cheers and a tiger, waving their hats in salutation. Even old Picheu smiled happily at this. Then the boys sprang aboard, and the boats pushed out into the current.
They were passing now between very high banks, broken now and then by rock faces. The currents averaged extremely strong, and there were at times runs of roughish water. But gradually the stream now was beginning to widen and to show an occasional island, so that on the whole they found their journey less dangerous than it had been before. The dugout, although not very light under the paddle, proved very tractable, and made a splendid boat for this sort of travel.
“You’d think from the look of this country,” said John to Alex, “that we were the first ever to cross it.”
“No,” said the old hunter, “I wish we were; but that is far from the truth to-day. This spring, before I started west to meet you, there were a dozen wagons passed through the Landing on one day—every one of them with a plow lashed to the wagon-box. The farmers are coming. If you should stop at Dunveganyou’d hardly know you were in Mackenzie’s old country, I’m afraid. And now the buffalo and the elk are all gone, where there used to be so many. It is coming now to be the white man’s country.”
“You’ll have to come up to Alaska, where we live, Alex,” said John. “We’ve got plenty of wild country back inside of Alaska yet. But even there the outside hunters are killing off the bear and moose mighty fast.”
“Yes,” said Alex, “for sport, for their heads, and not for the meat! My people kill for meat alone, and they could live here forever and the game would still be as thick as ever it was. It’s the whites who destroy the new countries.”
“I’m beginning to like this country more and more,” said Jesse, frankly. “Back in the mountains sometimes I was pretty badly scared, the water roared so much all the time. But here the country looks easier, and the water isn’t so strong. I think we’ll have the best part of our trip now.”
At that instant the sound of a rifle-shot rang out from some point below them on the river. The dugout had just swung out of sight around the bend. “That’s Rob’s rifle!” exclaimed John.
“Very likely,” said Alex. “Bear, I suppose.”
The crew of theJaybirdbent to their paddles and presently passed in turn about the sharp bend and came up alongside the dugout, which lay along shore in some slack water. Rob was looking a trifle shamefaced.
“Did you miss him?” asked John, excitedly.
“Well,” said Rob, “I suppose you’d call it a miss—he was running up the bank there about half a mile away. You can see him going yet, for that matter.”
Sure enough, they could, the animal by this time seeming not larger than a dog as it scrambled up among the bushes on the top of the steep precipice which lined the bank of the river.
“He must have been feeding somewhere below,” said Rob, “and I suppose heard us talking. He ran up that bank pretty fast. I didn’t know it was so hard to shoot from a moving boat. Anyhow, I didn’t get him.”
“He’ll was too far off,” said Moise. “But those boy she’ll shoot right on his foot all the time. I think she’ll hit him there.”
“Never mind, Mr. Rob,” said Alex. “We’ve got plenty of river below us, and we’re sure to see more bear. This river is one of the best countries for black bear there is this side of the Hay or the Liard.”
Both boats proceeded at a leisurely pacefor the remainder of this stage, no one being anxious to complete the journey to the Peace River Landing any earlier than was necessary, for the journey down the river was of itself interesting and pleasant. All the landscape continued green, although it was late in the summer. The water, however, was now less brilliant and clear than it had been in the mountains, and had taken on a brownish stain.
They encamped that night at a little beach which came down to the river and offered an ideal place for their bivouac. Tall pines stood all about, and there was little undergrowth to harbor mosquitoes, although by this time, indeed, that pest of the Northland was pretty much gone. The feeling of depression they sometimes had known in the big mountains had now left the minds of our young travelers, and they were disposed, since they found themselves well within reach of their goal, to take their time and enjoy themselves.
“Moise, tell us another story,” demanded Jesse, after they had finished their evening meal.
“What kind of story you’ll want?” inquired Moise.
“I think we’d rather have something about your own country, about animals, the sameas you told us back in the mountains, perhaps.”
“Well,” said Moise, “I’ll told you the story of how the ermine he’ll got the end of his tail black.”
“
Long tam ’go,” said Moise, “before my onkle he’ll been born, all peoples lived in the woods, and there was no Companee here for trade. In those day there was no tobacco an’ no rifle—those was long tam ’go—I don’ know how long.
“In those tam all the people he’ll talk with Wiesacajac, an’ Wiesacajac he’ll be friendly all tam with these peoples. All the animal that’ll live in the wood he’ll do all right, too. Only one animal he was bad animal, and those was what you call wissel (weasel). This wissel is what you call ermine some tam. He’ll be mighty smart animal. In summer-tam, when grass an’ rock is brown, he’ll go aroun’ brown, sam as the rock an’ the leaf. In summer-tam the wissel he’ll caught the hare an’ the partridge, an’ he’ll live pretty good, heem.
“Now, in the winter-tam most all the animals in the wood he’ll go white. Those hare, he’ll get white just same color as thesnow. Thosepicheu, those lynx, he’ll get gray, almost white. The ptarmigan, he’ll get white, too, so those owl won’ see heem on the snow; an’ the owl he’ll get white, so nothing will see heem when he goes on the snow. Some tam up north the wolf he’ll be white all over, an’ some fox he’ll also be white all same as the snow.
“But theCigous, or wissel, he’ll stay brown, with white streak on his neck, same like he’ll been in the summer-tam. When he’ll go on the hont, those rabbeet, she’ll sawCigouscome, an’ he’ll ron off, soCigoushe’ll go hongree.
“Now,Cigoushe’ll get this on his min’, an’ he’ll sit down one tam an’ he’ll make a pray to Kitchai-Manitou, an’ also to Wiesacajac, an’ he’ll pray that some tam he’ll be white in the winter-tam, the same as the snow, the same as those other animal, so he’ll catch the meat an’ not go hongree.
“‘Oh, Wiesacajac,’ he’ll pray, ‘what for you’ll make me dark this a-way, when I’ll been hongree? Have pity on me!’
“Well, Wiesacajac, he’ll been kin’ in his heart, an’ he’ll hear thoseCigouspray, an’ he’ll say, ‘My frien’, I s’pose you’ll not got any meat, an’ you’ll ask me to take pity on you. The reason why I’ll not make you white like other animal is, you’ll been such thief!Oh,Cigous, s’pose you’ll go live two week all right, an’ not steal, an’ not tell any lie to me, then I’ll make you white, all same like other animals.’
“‘Oh, Wiesacajac,’ sayCigous, ‘it’s ver’ hard to be good for two week an’ not steal, an’ not tell lie. But I’ll try to do this thing, me!’
“Now, in two week all the family ofCigoushe’ll not got anything to eat, an’ he’ll almost starve, an’ he’ll come in out of the woods an’ sit aroun’ on the village where the people live. But all the people can seeCigousan’ his family because he’ll all be brown, an’ he’ll show on the snow, plain.
“Now,Cigoushe’ll got very hongree, an’ he’ll got under the blanket in the lodge where the people live. Bimeby he’ll smell something cook on the fire. Then he’ll go out in the bush, an’ he’ll pray again to Wiesacajac, an’ he’ll say, ‘Oh, Wiesacajac, I’m almost white now, so I can get meat. But it’s ver’ hard tam for me!’
“Wiesacajac, he’ll tol’ heem to go back in an’ not lie an’ not steal, an’ then see what he’ll got.
“Cigous, he’ll been happy this tam, an’ he’ll go back on the lodge an’ smell that cooking some more. He’ll not know it, but by this tam Wiesacajac has made heem all white, tailan’ all. ButCigoushe’ll smell something cook in the pot, an’ he’ll say, ‘I wonder what is cook in that pot on the fire.’
“He’ll couldn’t stan’ up high to reach his foots in the pot, so he say, ‘Ah, ha! My tail he’s longer than my foots. I’ll stick my tail in the pot, an’ see what is cook that smells so good.’
“Now,Cigousnot know his tail is all white then. But Wiesacajac, he’ll seeCigousall the tam, an’ he’ll turn the meat in the pot into pitch, and make it boil strong; soCigouswhen he’ll stick his tail in the pot, he’ll stick it in the pitch, an’ when he’ll pull out the end of his tail, the end of it will be all black!
“ThenCigoushe’ll go out on the snow, an’ he’ll look aroun’, an’ bimeby Wiesacajac he’ll seen heem an’ he’ll say, ‘Ah,Cigous, what’s on your tail, because I’ll see it is all black on the end?’
“Cigoushe’ll turn aroun’ an’ ron aroun’ an’ aroun’ on a reeng, but all the tam he’ll see the black spot on his tail, an’ it won’t come off.
“‘Now,Cigous,’ says Wiesacajac, ‘I’ll been good spirit, else surely I’ll punish you plenty for stealing when you tol’ me you’ll be good animal. Already I’ll made you white, all but your tail. Now that the people may alwaysknow you for a thief, you an’ all your family must have black spot on tail in the winter-tam. I would make you black all over,Cigous, but I have take pity on your family, who must not starve. Maybe so you could caught meat, but all the tam your tail will mark you for a thief!’
“From that time,” said Moise, concluding, “the ermine,Cigous, has always been a good honter. But always he’s brown in the summer-tam, an’ in the winter-tam he isn’t not quite white. That is because he is such thief. I know this is so, because my onkle she’ll tol’ me. I have finish.”
“
I’ll tell you what,” said John, in the morning, as they still lingered at their pleasant camp; “we’re not apt to have a much nicer stopping place than this, so why not make a little hunt, and come back here to-night?”
“Not a bad idea,” said Alex.
“What’s the best way to plan it out?” asked John. “Ought we to go by boats down the river, and then come back here?”
“I would suggest that Moise and Rob take the dugout and go down the river a little way,” replied Alex, “and that you and I and Jess climb to the top of the bank, taking our time, to see if we could find any moose sign, or maybe a bear trail in the country back from the river. In that way we could cover both the top and bottom of the valley. We might find a grizzly higher up, although we are out of the grizzly country here by rights.”
This plan suggested by Alex was followed out, and at no very late hour in the morning camp was deserted by our travelers, whose hunting spirit seemed still unabated. They did not meet again until almost dusk. Alex and his companions found no fresh game trails on the heights above, and, in short, concluded their hunt rather early in the afternoon and returned to camp, where they remained for some hours before at length they saw the dugout, which the boys had christenedThe Plug, slowly making its way up the river.
John and Jesse, themselves pretty tired from their long walk, summoned up energy enough to go down to the beach and peer into the dugout. They saw no sign of any game. They did not, however, ask any questions, for they were learning the dignity of Indian hunters. Alex looked at Moise, but asked him no question. He noticed that Moise was whistling, and apparently not very unhappy, as after a time he went about making his evening fire.
“So you didn’t get any bear, Mr. Rob?” said Alex at last.
“No, not quite,” said Rob, “but I ought to have got one—I had a pretty fair shot, although it was rather dark where the bear was standing.”
Alex spoke a few words to Moise in the Cree language.
“Never mind,” said he to Rob at length. “We’ll get him to-morrow very easily.”
“So Moise said to me; but I don’t see how he knows. The bear started off as though he weren’t hit at all. He came down to the edge of the wood at a high bank and looked right at us when we were pulling the boat up the stream. You know, the canoe is rather teetery, but I shot as well as I could, and thought I hit him. He turned around, and I shot at him again. But he didn’t stop. Moise thought we had better come on in because it was so late.”
“Sure,” said Moise, “I’ll tol’ those boy he’ll shoot those bear two tam, once in the front an’ once in the back. With those rifle, he’ll not go far. To-morrow we’ll catch heem easy.”
“He was a big bear, too,” said Rob, “although not as big as our grizzly—just a black bear, that’s all. I don’t like to cripple any animal and then lose it.”
“I don’t think we’ll lose this one,” said Alex, reassuringly.
The judgment of the old hunters proved to be correct, for on the next day, when all hands dropped down the river to the point whereRob had shot at the bear, it was not five minutes before they found the trail where a considerable amount of blood showed that the bear had been badly wounded. At once they began to follow this trail back into the high country away from the river.
Alex did not ask any questions, and there was little talk between him and Moise. Moise, however, took the lead on the trail. Alex did not even carry his rifle, but loitered along, picking berries and enjoying himself, after his own fashion.
“Keep close up to Moise, young gentlemen,” he said. “This bear, although only a black bear, is apt to be very ugly if you find him still alive. If he comes for you, kill him quick. I doubt, however, very much whether he will be alive when we come up with him.”
“How do you know about that, Alex?” demanded John.
“It’s our business to know about such things,” answered Alex, smiling.
All the boys now could see where the bear had scrambled up the bank, and where it had gone through the bushes on its way to the forest, leaving a plain blood trail on the ground.
“Moise will lead on the trail,” said Alex. “He’s more Injun than I am. In some waysI can beat him, in others he can beat me. He is one of the best trailers on the river.”
Moise now was a different man from the talkative companion of the camp. He was very silent, and advanced cautiously along the trail, his eyes studying every record of the ground and cover which had been left by the wounded animal. Once in a while he pointed silently to a broken bush or to a drop of blood. After a while he stopped and pointed to a tree whose bark was ripped off.
“Heem awful mad,” whispered Moise. “S’pose you’ll seen heem here, he’ll fight sure. He’ll bite all the tree an’ fight the bush.”
After a while Alex showed them a deep excavation in the soft dirt.
“He’ll dig hole here an’ lie down,” said Moise. “Plenty mad now, sure!”
They kept on after the trail, following it deeper into the forest and higher up the slope, minute after minute, for a time which seemed short, but which really was over an hour and a half in extent. Moise still remained silent and not in the least excited, and Alex still continued to pick his berries and eat them leisurely as he followed along in the rear. Once they lost the trail on an open hillside covered with wintergreen plants, and the boys thought the hunt was over. Moisehowever, swung around like a hound on the trail, clear to the other side of the hill, and in the course of a few minutes picked up the spoor again when it struck softer ground beyond. They passed on then, moving upward deeper into the forest for some minutes, until at length Moise turned about.
“About five minute now, we’ll found heem,” said he, quietly.
“How does he know, Alex?” demanded Jesse, who was farther to the rear.
“Easy enough,” answered Alex. “He says the bear has lain down ten times now, and he would not do that unless he was very weak. He would travel as far as he could. Now he is lying down very often. I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ll get any fight out of this bear. Moise thinks you’ll find him dead.”
Surely enough, they had hardly gone another hundred yards before Moise, stepping back quietly, pointed through an opening in the bushes. There, lying before them in a little glade, lay a vast, black body, motionless.
Rob grounded his rifle-butt, almost in disappointment, but later expressed his satisfaction.
“Now, boys, I got him,” said he, “and I guess it’s just as well he didn’t have to wait till now for us to come. But speaking oftrailing, Moise, you certainly know your business.”
“Oh yes,” said Moise, “every man in this country he’ll mus’ know how to trail, else he’ll go hongree some tam. My onkle she’ll taught me how for follow trail.”
“Well,” said Alex, “here’s some more meat to get down to the boat, I suppose, and we need meat badly, too. We ought not to waste it, but if we take it all on board we’ll have to hurry to get down to Peace River Landing with it, because it is more than we can possibly eat.”
The two older hunters now drew their big buffalo knives and fell to work skinning and dismembering the carcass of the bear, the boys helping as they could. It was plainly the intention of Alex and Moise to make one trip with meat and hide.
In order to carry the green bear hide—always a slippery and awkward thing to pack—Moise now showed a little device often practised, as he said, among the Crees. He cut two sharpened sticks, each about a couple of feet in length, and placing these down on the hide, folded the hide around them, so that it made a sharp, four-cornered pack. He lashed the hide tightly inside these four corners, and then lifting it up and down, smilingly showedthe boys that the green hide now would not slip, but would remain in place, thus making a much better pack. He slung his belt at the corners of the pack, and then motioned to Alex to throw up on top of his pack one of the hams of the bear which had been detached from the carcass. When Moise got his load he started off at a trot, taking a course different from that on which they had come.
Alex in turn used his belt and some thongs he had in making a pack of the remainder of the meat, which, heavy as it seemed, he managed to shoulder, leaving the boys nothing to carry except the skull of the bear, which they had expressed a wish to retain with the robe.
“Do you suppose we’ll ever get to be men as strong as that?” asked Rob in a whisper, pointing to the solitary figure of the breed now passing rapidly down the slope.
“I didn’t know anybody was so strong,” admitted Jesse. “They must be pretty good men, I’m thinking.”
“But which way are they going?” asked John. “Do you suppose they’re lost?”
“We’ll follow and see,” answered Rob. “They seem to know their own way pretty well.”
They now kept Alex in sight, and in thecourse of about fifteen or twenty minutes came up with Moise, who was sitting down, resting his back against the root of a tree.
“I suppose you’ll know where we are now?” he asked of Rob.
Rob shook his head. “No, I don’t recognize the place.”
Moise pointed with a thumb to a point just back of the tree. Rob stepped over, and gazing down, saw a deep hole in the ground.
“Why, I know!” said he. “This is one of the holes the bear dug—one of the first ones, I should think.”
“Oh, I see, you cut across-lots and didn’t follow the back trail.” John was as much surprised as Rob.
“No,” said Alex, “we saved perhaps half a mile by coming straight across, for, you see, the bear was wandering all around on the hillside as he was trying to get away. You’ll find the boats are directly below us here, and not very far away.”
“This,” said Rob, “seems to me pretty wonderful! You men certainly do know how to get along in this country. I’d never have thought this was the direct course, and if I had been in there alone I certainly would have followed the bear’s trail back—if I could have found it.”
Yet it all came out quite as Alex and Moise had planned, for in less than ten minutes more they scrambled down the steep bank to the rocky beach where the two boats lay. The men distributed the hide and meat between the two, covering up both with green willow boughs.
“Now,” said Alex, “for a fast run down this river. We’ve got more meat than we can use, and we must get to the Landing.”
It is possible to make twenty-five miles a day with pole and tracking-line against a current even so strong as that of the Peace River. Twice or thrice that distance down-stream is much easier, so that no greatly difficult journey remained ahead of our travelers between their last camp and the old Hudson Bay post known as Peace River Landing, which perhaps Moise would have called the end of the old war-trail from Little Slave Lake—the point near the junction of the Peace and Smoky rivers which has in it so much strategic value, whether in war or in peace. The two boats, pausing only for the briefest possible encampments, now swung on down, day after day, not pausing at the ultimate western settlements, St. John and Dunvegan, but running on down, between high and steep banks, through a country clean and beautiful with its covering of poplar growth. At last, well wearied with steady paddling,they opened up a great “V” in the valley, so that they knew they were at the junction of the Smoky and the Peace, and hence at the end of this stage of their journey.
It was evening at the time of their arrival, and Rob was much for finishing the journey that day, yet yielded to the wish of Moise, who thought it would be better to camp some few miles above the town, although almost within sight of the great ferry which here crosses the main river from the wagon trail of the north bank.
“We’ll must go in like realvoyageurs,” insisted Moise. “We’ll not look good to go in to-night—too much tire an’ dirt.”
In the morning Moise appeared at the breakfast table attired in his best. He had in some way managed a clean shave, and now his long, black hair was bound back with a gaudy handkerchief, his old shirt replaced by a new and bright one, and his old moccasins discarded for a pair of new and brilliantly beaded ones, so that in all he made a brave figure of a voyageur indeed. Alex also in a quiet way had followed the lead of Moise. The boys themselves, falling into the spirit of this, hunted through their war-bags for such finery as they could compass, and decked themselves out in turn with new moccasins, new gloves,and new kerchiefs for their necks. Moise looked on them all with the utmost approbation.
“It’s the best for return like somebraves hommes,” said he. “Well,en avant!”
They all bent gaily to the paddles now, and sped down the flood of the great stream until at length they sighted the buildings of the Hudson Bay post, just below the ferry. Here, finishing with a great spurt of speed, they pulled alongside the landing bank, just below where there lay at mooring the tall structure of the Hudson Bay steamboat,Peace River, for the time tarrying at this point. Moise rolled his paddle along the gunwale, making the spray fly from the blade after the old fashion of thevoyageursending a journey, and the boys followed his example. Many willing hands aided them to disembark. A little later they found themselves ready for what seemed apt to be one of their last encampments.
A tall breed woman stood at a little distance up the bank, silently awaiting their coming. Moise pointed to her with no great emotion.
“He’s my womans,” said he. “He’ll fix the camp for us an’ take care of those meat, yes.”
MOISE AT HOMEMOISE AT HOME
Moise and his wife met, undoubtedly gladto see each other, though making no great show at the time. Pretty soon the breed woman came down and lifted the bear hides and the meat from the boats.
“She’ll fix up the hides for you, all right,” said Alex, quietly. “As we don’t need the meat, and as I don’t live here, but a hundred miles below on Little Slave, I think we had better give Moise all of the meat for himself and his people—he probably has fifty or more ‘uncles’ and ‘cousins’ in this village. Meantime, I think it might be well for us to make a little camp over here in the cottonwoods just back of the lodges.”
They saw now on the flat between the river and the Company post quite a little village of Indian conical tepees, from which now came many Indians and half-breeds, and a multitude of yelping dogs.
The boys, aided by one or two taciturn but kindly natives, who seemed to know who they were, and so lent a hand without any request, soon had their simple little camp well under way. At about this time they were approached by a stalwart man wearing the cap of the Hudson Bay Company’s river service.
“I’m Saunders, of the Hudson Bay Company,” said he, “and I suppose you’re thenephews of Mr. Wilcox, an engineer, who has gone down the river?”
“Yes, sir,” said Rob; “we have just come down, and we expected to meet him below here.”
“I have a letter for you,” said Captain Saunders. “Mr. Wilcox came up from Little Slave awhile back, and went down to Fort Vermilion with us on our last trip—I’m the captain of the boat over yonder. He asked me to bring you down to Vermilion on our next run. I suppose the letter explains it all.”
“Yes, sir,” said Rob, after reading it and handing it to the others. “That’s about the size of it. We thought our trip was ended here, but he asks us to come on down and meet him at Fort Vermilion! It seems a long way; but we’re very glad to meet you, Captain Saunders.”
They all shook hands, and the grizzled veteran smiled at them quizzically.
“Well, young gentlemen,” said he, “I hardly know what to think about your trip, but if you really made it, you’re lucky to get through in as good shape as you have.”
“We had a perfectly bully time, sir,” said Rob. “We lost one of our boats west of the cañon, but we got another this side, andwe’re all safe and sound, with every ounce of our property along.”
“You have the best of me, I must admit,” said the Hudson Bay man, “for I have never been west of St. John myself, although we make the Dunvegan run regularly all the time, of course. They tell me it is pretty wild back there in the mountains.”
“Yes, sir,” said Rob. “The water’s pretty fast sometimes; but, you see, we had two good men with us, and we were very careful.”
“You had pretty fair men withyou, too, didn’t you, Alex?” smiled Saunders, as the tall half-breed came up at that time.
“None better,” said Alex, quietly. “We caught a grizzly and a black bear, not to mention a caribou and a couple of sheep. They seem to me natural hunters. I’m quite proud of them—so proud that we gave them a ‘lob-stick,’ Captain.”
“And quite right, too,” nodded Saunders.
“Oh, well, of course we couldn’t have done any of those things without you and Moise,” said Rob. “Anybody can shoot a rifle a little bit, but not every one could bring the boats out of such water as we have had.”
“Well, now, what do you want to do?” resumed Saunders, after a little. “Here’s thePeace Riversteamer, and you can get a roomand a bath and a meal there whenever you like. Or you can stay here in your tent and eat with the factor up at the post beyond. I would suggest that you take in our city before you do much else.”
“When were you planning to leave for Vermilion, Captain Saunders?” inquired Rob.
“Some time to-morrow morning, as soon as we get plenty of wood from the yard across the river. It’s about three hundred and fifty miles to Vermilion down-stream—that is to say, north of here—but we run it in two or three days with luck. Coming up it’s a little slower, of course.”
“If you don’t mind, sir,” said Rob at length, “I think we’d rather sleep in our tent as long as we can—the steamboat would be very nice, but it looks too much like a house.”
Saunders laughed, and, turning, led the way through the Indian villages and up toward the single little street which made the village of Peace River Landing, ancient post of the Hudson Bay. Here he introduced the young travelers, who at once became the sensation of the hour for all the inhabitants, who now thronged the streets about them, but who all stood silent and respectful at a distance.
They found the Hudson Bay post, as Jesse had said, more like a country store than thefur-trading post which they had pictured for themselves. They saw piled up on the shelves and counters all sorts of the products of civilization—hardware of every kind, groceries, tinned goods, calicoes, clothes, hats, caps, guns, ammunition—indeed, almost anything one could require.
John was looking behind the counters with wistful eye, for the time ceasing his investigation of the piles of bright new moccasins.
“I don’t see any, Alex,” said he, at last.
“Any what, Mr. John?”
“Well, you said there’d be toffy.”
Alex laughed and beckoned to the clerk. When John made known his wishes, the latter ran his hand in behind a pile of tobacco and brought out a number of blue-covered packages marked “Imperial Toffy.”
“I think you will find this very nice, sir,” said he. “It’s made in the old country, and we sell quite a bit of it here.”
John’s eyes lighted up at this, and, if truth be told, both of the other boys were glad enough to divide with him his purchase, quantities of which he generously shared also with the Indian and half-breed children whom he presently met in the street.
“I don’t see but what this is just the sameas any other town,” said he at length, his mouth full.
They were received with great courtesy by the factor of the Hudson Bay Company, who invited them to have lunch with him. To their surprise they found on the table all the sorts of green vegetables they had ever known—potatoes, beans, tomatoes, lettuce, many varieties, and all in the greatest profusion and excellence.
“We don’t encourage this sort of thing,” said the factor, smilingly pointing to these dishes of vegetables, “for the theory of our Company is that all a man needs to eat is meat and fish. But just to be in fashion, we raise a few of these things in our garden, as you may see. When you are at Vermilion, moreover, although that is three hundred and fifty miles north from here, you’ll see all sorts of grain and every vegetable you ever heard of growing as well as they do twelve or fifteen hundred miles south of here.”
“It’s a wonderful country, sir,” said Rob. “I don’t blame Alex and Moise for calling this the Land of Plenty.”
“Moise said that the old war-trail over from the Little Slave country used to end about here,” ventured John.
The factor smiled, and admitted that such was once said to have been the case.
“Those days are gone, though, my young friend,” said he. “There’s a new invasion, which we think may unsettle our old ways as much as the invasion of the Crees did those of the Stoneys and Beavers long ago. I mean the invasion of the wagon-trains of farmers.”
“Yes,” said Rob, “Alex told us we’d have to go to the Liard River pretty soon, if we wanted any moose or bear; but anyhow, we’re here in time, and we want to thank you for helping us have such a pleasant trip. We’re going to enjoy the run down the river, I’m sure.”
Captain Saunders finished the operation of getting wood for thePeace Riverby ten o’clock of the next morning, and as the steamer once more came alongside the steep bank at the landing the hoarse note of her whistles notified every one to get ready for the journey down the stream. The boys, who had passed the night in their tent with Alex—Moise having gone to his own tepee for the night—now began to bestir themselves before going aboard the steamer.
“What are we going to do with all our things, Alex?” asked Rob.
“How do you mean, sir?”
“Why, our tent and the skins and trophies and blankets and everything—we won’t need them on board the boat, will we?”
“No, sir, and the best way will be to leave them here.”
“What! In our tent, with no one to care for them? You know, Moise is going with us, as I understand it.”
“Everything will be perfectly safe right there in the tent, if only you tie the flaps so the dogs can’t get in,” answered Alex. “You see, it’s only white men that steal in this country—the Injuns and breeds won’t do that. Until the Klondike pilgrims came through here we didn’t know what theft was. I can answer for these people here. Everything you leave will be perfectly safe, and, as you say, it will be less bother than to take this stuff along on the boat.”
Rob motioned to his companions, and they stepped aside for a little while.
“What are we going to do about the stuff we’ve got left over, fellows?” asked he. “Of course, we’ve got to get down by wagon as far as Little Slave, and we’ll need grub enough, if Uncle Dick hasn’t got it, to last us two or three days. But we won’t boat, and we’ve got quite a lot of supplies which I think we had better give to Moise—they have to charge pretty good prices for everything they sell at the store up here, and maybe Moise will like this stuff.”
“That suits me,” said John, “and I think it would be a good idea. Give Moise all the meat and such supplies as we don’t need going out.”
“And then, how about the boats?”
“Well, old Picheu sold us the dugout, and I don’t suppose he’ll ever get down here any more, and we certainly couldn’t take it out with us. I’m in favor of making Moise a present of that. He seems to like it pretty well.”
“A good idea,” said Rob. “And how about theJaybird? Wouldn’t it be fine to give that to Alex!”
Both the other boys thought this would be a good idea, and they accordingly proposed these plans to Alex before they went aboard the steamer.
The old hunter smiled with great pleasure at their generosity. “I don’t want to rob you young men,” said he, “and without doubt you could sell both of those boats here if you liked. But if you want us to keep them, they will be of great value to us. Moise hunts up and down the river all the time, and can use the dugout. I live on Little Slave, and hunt miles below here, but I have plenty of friends with wagons, and they’ll take theJaybirdacross for me. I’ll keep her as long as she lasts, and be very glad indeed.”
“Well, then,” said Rob, “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t go aboard. I’m almost sorry, too, because it seems to me as though we were pretty near to the end of our trip now.”
“Don’t be so sure,” said the old hunter to him. “Some of the best bear country on this river is below this point, and unless I am very much mistaken, you will probably see a dozen or two bear between here and Vermilion.”
On board the steamboat the boys found a long table spread with clean linen, comfortable bunks with linen sheets, something they had not seen for a long time, and a general air of shipshapeness which did not seem to comport with a country so wild and remote as this. Each was assigned to a room, where he distributed his belongings, and soon they were all settled down comfortably, Alex and Moise also having rooms given to them, according to the instructions which Uncle Dick had sent up to the Company.
During the last few minutes before the mooring-lines of the boat were cast loose all the party stood along the rail watching the breed deck-hands carrying aboard the remainder of the boat’s cargo. Rob expressed the greatest surprise at the enormous loads which these men carried easily from the storehouse down the slippery bank and up the steep gang-plank. “I didn’t think such strong men lived anywhere in the world,” said he. “I never saw anything like it!”
“Yes,” said Alex, “there are some prettygood men on the river, that’s true. The man who couldn’t shoulder three hundred pounds and get it aboard would be back of the first rank.”
“Three hundred pounds!” said Rob. “That’s pretty heavy, isn’t it?”
“Non! Non!” broke in Moise. “She’s no heavy. On the trail those man he’ll take three packets, two hundred seventy poun’, an’ he’ll trot all same dog—we’ll both told you that before. My onkle, Billy Loutit, he’ll carry seex hondred poun’ one tam up a heell long tam. He’ll take barrel of pork an’ ron on the bank all same deer.”
Rob turned a questioning glance on Alex, who nodded confirmation. “Men have been known to carry four or five hundred pounds considerable distances on the portage,” said he. “It isn’t best for them, but they’re always rivaling one another in these feats of strength. Saunders here, the captain, used to carry five hundred pounds in his day—all the salt pork and boxes you could rake up on top of him. You see this is a country of large distances and the seasons are short. You talk about ‘hustling’ down in the cities, but I suppose there never was a business carried on which ‘hustled’ as long and hard as the old fur trade a hundred years ago. That’s wherethese men came from—from fathers and grandfathers who were brought up in the work.”
At last the steamer cast loose her mooring-lines and stood off for midstream with a final roar of her whistles. A row of Indians and breeds along the bank again gave the salute of the north with a volley of rifle-fire. They were off for the last lap of their long journey down the great river, this time under somewhat different circumstances from those under which they had begun their journey.
The boys rapidly explored the steamboat, and found her a comfortable side-wheeler, especially built for this river work, with powerful engines and abundance of room on her lower deck for heavy cargo. Her cabin-deck provided good accommodations for passengers, and, all in all, she was quite a wonderful vessel for that far-off country, in their belief.
“I found something down below,” said John, coming up the companion-stair after a time.
“What’s that?” asked Jesse.
“Bear hide nailed on the side of the boat, by the wood-pile below. The engineer killed it a week ago up the river. About every one on the boat has a rifle, and they say they get bears every trip. I think we had better haveour guns ready all the time. They say that old Showan, the pilot in the pilot-house up above, only keeps his job on this boat because he gets such fine bear hunting all the time.”
“Well, he’ll have to beat us,” said Rob, stoutly.
“Alex,” inquired Jesse, after a time, “how many bear did you ever see on this river in one day?”
“I wouldn’t like to say,” answered Alex, “for we don’t always count them. I’m told that one of our passengers counted twenty-eight in one afternoon right on this part of the river where we are now. I’ve often seen a dozen a day, I should say.”
“You’re joking about that, Alex!” said Rob.
“Wait and see—I may show you pretty soon,” was the answer.
The boys, always ready enough when there was game to be seen, secured their rifles and took their stand at the front rail of the cabin-deck, ready for anything which might appear.
“I don’t see how you can shoot off this boat,” said Jesse, trying to sight his rifle. “It wobbles all the time when the engine goes.”
Alex gave him a little advice. “I think you’ll find it better to stand with your feet pretty close together,” said he, “and keepyour hands as close together as you can on your rifle, too. Then, when you catch sight of your mark as you swing by, pull, and don’t try to hold dead on.”
For some time they saw nothing, and, leaning their rifles against the cabin walls, were talking about something else, when all at once they heard the whistle of the steamer boom out above them. At about the same time, one of the deck-hands at the bow deck below picked up a piece of plank and began to beat loudly with it upon the side structure of the boat.
“What’s the matter?” asked Rob. “Has everybody gone crazy, Alex?”
“No; they’re just trying to beat up the game,” said Alex, smiling. “You see that island below? It nearly always has bears feeding on it, where the berries are thick. When the boat comes down above them the men try to scare the bears out into the river. Just wait a minute, and perhaps you’ll see some of the strangest bear hunting you ever heard of in your life.”
Almost as he spoke they all heard the crack of a rifle from the pilot-house above them, and saw the spit of a bullet on the water many hundreds of yards below them.
“I see him,” said Rob, “I see him—therehe goes! Look at that little ripple on the water.”
“Yes,” said Alex, quietly, “there was one on the island, as I supposed there would be. He is swimming off now for the mainland. Too far yet, I should say. Just take your time, and let Showan waste his ammunition.”
It was all the boys could do to hold their fire, but presently, since almost every one else on the boat began to shoot, Alex signaled to his young charges to open up their battery. He knew very well that the rifles they were using were more powerful than the carbines which made the usual arm in that country.
“Be careful now, young men,” said he, “and watch where your bullets go.”
For the first few shots the boys found the difficulty which Jesse had prophesied, for shooting from an unstable platform is always difficult. They had the added advantage, however, of being able to tell where their bullets were falling. As they were all firing close together, and were using rifles of the same caliber, it was difficult to tell who really was the lucky marksman, but, while the little triangle of moving water still seemed two or three hundred yards below the boat, suddenly it ceased to advance. There lay upon the surface of the water a large oblong, black mass.
“Through the head!” said Alex, quietly. “I don’t know which one.”
All the deck-hands below began to laugh and shout. The captain of the boat now came forward. “I don’t know which one of you to congratulate,” said he, “but that was good work. Now my men will have plenty of meat for the trip down, that’s sure.”
He now passed down to the floor of the deck, and under his instructions one of the deck-hands picked up a long, stout pole which had a hook fastened on the end of it.
“Look down there below now, young gentlemen,” said Alex, “and you’ll see something you never will see anywhere but here. We gaff a bear here, the same as you do a salmon.”
This literally was true. The engineer now shut off his engines, and the great boat drifted slowly down upon the floating body of the dead bear, with just steerageway enough to enable the pilot to lay her alongside. At last the deck-hand made a quick sweep with his gaff-hook, and calling two of his fellows to hold onto the pole with him, and so stopping the tremendous pull which the body of the bear made on the pole, they finally succeeded in easing down the strain and presently brought the dead bear close alongside. Then a noose was dropped over its neck and it was hauledaboard. All this time the boys were excitedly waiting for the end of their strange hunt, and to them this sort of bear hunting seemed about the most curious they had ever known.
The deck-hands now, in obedience to a word in their own language from the captain, rapidly began to skin and quarter the dead bear.
Moise explained to them that his young hunters wanted the skin saved for them, with the claws and the skull, so that they were more particular than they usually are in skinning a bear which they intend to eat. Truth to say, the carcass of this bear scarcely lasted for the rest of the voyage, for black bear is a regular article of diet for these people, although they will not often eat the grizzly.
These operations were scarcely well advanced before once more the whistle began to roar, and once more the rifle-fire began from Showan’s place up in the pilot-house. This time they all saw a big bear running up the bank, but perhaps half a mile away. It made good speed scrambling up over the bare places, and was lost to sight from time to time among the bushes. But it had no difficulty in making its escape unhurt, for now the boys, although they fired rapidly at it, could not tell where their bullets were dropping, and were unable to correct their aim.
“I don’t care,” said Rob, “if it did get away. We’ve got almost bears enough now, and besides, I don’t know whether this is sportsmanlike or not, shooting bears from a boat. Anyhow, when an animal is swimming in the water and can’t get away, I don’t see the fun in killing it. Let’s wait on the next one and let the pilot shoot it.”
They did not have half an hour to wait before they saw that very thing happen. The whistles once more stirred the echoes as they swung down to a group of two or three islands, and this time two bears started wildly across the channel for the mainland. Rob and his friends did not shoot at these, but almost every one else did. One escaped unhurt, but another, although it almost reached the bank, was shot dead with a bullet from Showan’s rifle. Once more the manœuvers of the gaff-hook were repeated, and once more a great black bear was hauled on board. In fact, they saw during the afternoon no less than six full-grown bears, none of which got away unsaluted, but only two of which really were “bagged,” as Alex called it, by the men with the gaff-hook.