Three Boys in the Wild North Land, Egerton Ryerson Young [best large ereader txt] 📗

direction, in which Mr Ross and his party had gone. She was pleased and delighted to welcome Alec, and to hear from him and the Indians the story of their deliverance and escape from accidents during the great storm.

The skins of the bear and wolverine were opened out and much admired, and then handed over to some clever Indian women to carefully dress for their home-going. The story of Sam's race from the bear very much amused them all. Nothing, however, so much delighted the Indian hunters who gathered in as the destruction of that old wolverine. It seems that same fellow had haunted that region of country for some years, destroying traps, robbing fish scaffolds and meat "caches," and playing with all the steel traps that the cleverest hunters could set for him. Now, however, his reign was over, and here was his hide--and a big one it was. Alec was the hero, and, although he modestly disclaimed all the honour except the first-class shot, the Indians were very proud of him, and showed it in various expressive ways.

Three Boys in the Wild North Land--by Egerton Ryerson Young


CHAPTER NINE.

MONTREAL POINT--THE GOVERNOR AND THE IROQUOIS--THE HERD OF DEER--OMINOUS SOUNDS--PACKS OF WOLVES--THE FIERCE BATTLE--WELCOME REINFORCEMENTS--THE VICTORY--PLAYING "POSSUM".

As Mr Ross was anxious to get news from Sagasta-weekee and hear how his family and home had fared during the cyclone, Alec and the Indians started on their return trip early the next morning, taking with them a new canoe to replace the one that had been destroyed by a falling tree. They tarried not on the way, except to shoot a few ducks that were directly in their route. The result was they arrived early in the forenoon at the Old Fort, and were glad to bring the good news that all were well at Sagasta-weekee, and that the storm had passed by several miles away from them.

Of course the story of the destruction of the cache by the wolverine, and then his being killed, had to be told, much to the delight of Frank and Sam, as well as to the satisfaction of the older members of the party, who all rejoiced that at length that cunning fellow, that had so long been a terror and a nuisance, had been destroyed.

As the storm had completely died away, and the weather seemed fine and settled, it was decided to have an early dinner, then push on to Spider Islands, and there camp for the night. The rearrangement of their outfit was soon completed and the journey commenced.

Lake Winnipeg is nearly three hundred miles long, and about eighty wide in its northern part. It is thus like a great inland sea. Great storms sweep over it at times with tremendous fury. It has many shallows and sunken rocks.

The result is, it requires careful navigation for vessels that need any considerable depth of water.

There are some laughable stories afloat about the nervous, excitable captain of the first schooner, who carefully came up to the northern end of the lake from Manitoba and pushed on as far as Norway House. He had secured as a guide an old Hudson Bay voyageur, who had piloted many a brigade of boats from Fort Garry to York Factory, on the Hudson Bay. Of course the small boats to which he was accustomed did not draw nearly as many feet of water as this three-masted schooner. Still he imagined he knew where all the rocks and shoals were, and quickly accepted the offered position as guide or pilot for the first schooner.

In spite of his skill and care several times the vessel bumped against a rock, much to the terror and alarm of the captain, but all the satisfaction he could get out of the imperturbable old native was, as they repeatedly struck them:

"Ah, captain, I told you there were many rocks, and there is another of them."

Fortunately these rocks are very smooth, and as the vessel was moving along very slowly, she was not at all injured by the merely touching them. When, however, she had, in passing over some sunken ones, nearly stranded on one or two, the peppery old captain could stand it no longer, and so he shouted to the guide:

"Look here, old fellow, I'll not have my ship's bottom scratched any more like this."

All the answer he could get from the stolid man was:

"Um, bottom all right, only a few more rocks."

And these few more rocks they managed to get over, much to the delight and amazement of the Indians, who had never seen such a large vessel before.

With birch canoes, our friends had no such troubles among the rocks. As the wind was fair the clever Indians fastened two paddles and improvised a sail out of a blanket for each canoe, and they were able to sail along at a great rate. But it requires careful steering, as the canoe is a cranky vessel at the best, and only those thoroughly accustomed to them ought to try to sail them.

The trip across to the Spider Islands was safely accomplished. The boys were pleased with their run, which was most exhilarating. Those who travel on the water only in great ships miss much of the healthful excitement and delight that is the portion of those who are brave and adventurous enough to take some of these trips in the light canoes of the Indians.

The boys were charmed with the few picturesque islands, and had a joyous time of it, for the weather was most glorious. Yet, as there was no game, except some passing ducks that lit at times in the little indentations that served as harbours, it was decided to push on to Montreal Point, which is the first landing stage on the mainland on the east side of Lake Winnipeg. The point derived its name from the fact that in the old days of long trips made by Sir George Simpson, in the birch canoes manned by the famous Iroquois Indians, this was the first stopping place from Norway House on their return voyage to Montreal, some two thousand miles away. Marvellous are the stories told of the skill and endurance of those matchless crews of Indians. Sir George Simpson was a hard master, and pushed them to their very utmost. No dallying along the road was allowed when he was on board. He would put his hand over the side of the canoe into the water, and if with a swish the water did not fly up perpendicularly before him he would reprove in language that could not be misunderstood.

Very strange does it now appear when we read of those days, or talk to old men who were participants in those events when the officials of the fur-trading company, from the despotic governor himself down to the lowest clerk, travelled over half the continent in birch canoes, manned by Indians or half-breeds, looking after the interest of the greatest fur-trading company the world has ever seen. It is after all no wonder that they worked in a hurry when the weather was favourable, as there were times when storms swept over the lakes with such fury that, in spite of all their skill and anxiety to push on, they were detained for days and days together. The wonder ever was that more lives were not lost in the daring recklessness that was often displayed. A characteristic story of Sir George Simpson, so long the energetic governor of the company, is still repeated at many a camp fire.

It seems that on one of his return voyages to Montreal from Norway House he was, if possible, more arbitrary and domineering than ever, and especially seemed to single out for his spleen a big burly fellow, a half-French and half-Iroquois voyageur. This half-breed, who was making his first trip, stood all this abuse for time good-naturedly, and tried to do his best; but one day at one of the camping places, where Sir George had been unusually abusive and sarcastic, the big fellow turned on him and gave him one of the handsomest thrashings a man ever received. The rest of the canoemen pretended to be so horror-stricken that they could not, or would not, interfere until the thrashing had been well administered to the governor, and then they made a noisy show of delivering the tyrant out of the clutches of their enraged comrade.

When the governor recovered his voice, and was able to get the better of his anger and indignation at the fact that he, the great Sir George Simpson, had been treated with such indignity by a miserable voyageur, he vented in not very polished French his threats upon his assailant. He said:

"Just wait until we reach Montreal, and I will soon clap this villain into prison, and have him kept there until the flesh rots off his bones."

With this and other threats of what he would do, the governor worked off his passion. The imperturbable canoeman, having obtained his satisfaction in the thrashing administered, returned to his duties, and paid no more attention to the threats of Sir George. What cared he? It would be many days ere Montreal was reached, and there were many rapids to run and portages to cross, and so there was no need of worrying about what was distant. But the governor, although he had ceased to scold, became very glum and distant, and the voyageur began to think that perhaps it would go badly with him and he would have to suffer for his doings. His fears were not allayed or lessened any by his chums, who conjured up all sorts of dire calamities that would befall him, and invented any amount of stories of pains and penalties that had been inflicted on others who had dared to resent his tyrannies.

Thus the days passed, and at length they reached Lachine, at the end of the Ottawa River, not very far from Montreal. Here the company had in those days a large trading establishment. Shortly after they landed, and Sir George, who had been met by the officials of the company there stationed, went with them into the principal building and was in close consultation, while the feelings of the voyageur were not enviable. As was feared, the big men were not long in consultation ere his name was called in a loud, stern voice. There was nothing for him to do but obey, and so he marched up into the building and met the officials and Sir George.

To his surprise and astonishment Sir George reached out his hand and there made a full apology for his hasty words and petulant temper, and stated that the thrashing he had received he had richly deserved, and that it had done him good, as it had opened his eyes to see that he had grown tyrannical and overbearing and was expecting more than possibilities of the men. Then, to show the genuineness of his apology, he ordered the clerk to give to this man the best outfit of clothing and other handsome presents, and to charge the whole to his, Sir George's, private personal account.

A couple of hours were quite sufficient to take the boys and Indians across the wide open expanse of lake that lay between Spider Island and Montreal Point on Lake Winnipeg. When drawing near the coast they were pleased to see some deer sporting on the shore.