Away in the Wilderness, R. M. Ballantyne [best inspirational books .TXT] 📗

Next day the travellers reached one of those magnificent lakes of which there are so many in the wild woods of North America, and which are so like to the great ocean itself, that it is scarcely possible to believe them to be bodies of fresh water until they are tasted.

The largest of these inland seas is the famous Lake Superior, which is so enormous in size that ships can sail on its broad bosom for several days out of sight of land. It is upwards of three hundred miles long, and about one hundred and fifty broad. A good idea of its size may be formed from the fact, that it is large enough to contain the whole of Scotland, and deep enough to cover her highest hills!

The lake on which the canoe was now launched, although not so large as Superior, was, nevertheless, a respectable body of water, on which the sun was shining as if on a shield of bright silver. There were numbers of small islets scattered over its surface; some thickly wooded to the water’s edge, others little better than bare rocks. Crossing this lake they came to the mouth of a pretty large stream and began to ascend it. The first thing they saw on rounding a bend in the stream was an Indian tent, and in front of this tent was an Indian baby, hanging from the branch of a tree.

Let not the reader be horrified. The child was not hanging by the neck, but by the handle of its cradle, which its mother had placed there, to keep her little one out of the way of the dogs. The Indian cradle is a very simple contrivance. A young mother came out of the tent with her child just as the canoe arrived, and began to pack it in its cradle. Jasper stopped for a few minutes to converse with one of the Indians, so that the artist had a good opportunity of witnessing the whole operation.

The cradle was simply a piece of flat board, with a bit of scarlet cloth fastened down each side of it. First of all, the mother laid the poor infant, which was quite naked, sprawling on the ground. A dirty-looking dog took advantage of this to sneak forward and smell at it, whereupon the mother seized a heavy piece of wood, and hit the dog such a rap over the nose as sent it away howling. Then she spread a thick layer of soft moss on the wooden board. Above this she laid a very neat, small blanket, about two feet in length. Upon this she placed the baby, which objected at first to go to bed, squalled a good deal, and kicked a little. The mother therefore took it up, turned it over, gave it one or two hearty slaps, and laid it down again.

This seemed to quiet it, for it afterwards lay straight out, and perfectly still, with its coal-black eyes staring out of its fat brown face, as if it were astonished at receiving such rough treatment. The mother next spread a little moss over the child, and above that she placed another small blanket, which she folded and tucked in very comfortably, keeping the little one’s arms close to its sides, and packing it all up, from neck to heels, so tightly that it looked more like the making up of a parcel than the wrapping up of a child. This done, she drew the scarlet cloth over it from each side of the cradle, and laced it down the front. When all was done, the infant looked like an Egyptian mummy, nothing but the head being visible.

The mother then leaned the cradle against the stem of a tree, and immediately one of the dogs ran against it, and knocked it over. Luckily, there was a wooden bar attached to the cradle, in front of the child’s face, which bar is placed there on purpose to guard against injury from such accidents, so that the bar came first to the ground, and thus prevented the flattening of the child’s nose, which, to say truth, was flat enough already!

Instead of scolding herself for her own carelessness, the Indian mother scolded the dog, and then hung the child on the branch of a tree, to keep it from further mischief.

The next turn in the river revealed a large waterfall, up which it was impossible to paddle, so they prepared to make a portage. Before arriving at the foot of it, however, Jasper landed Heywood, to enable him to make a sketch, and then the two men shoved off, and proceeded to the foot of the fall.

They were lying there in an eddy, considering where was the best spot to land, when a loud shout drew their attention towards the rushing water. Immediately after, a boat was seen to hover for a moment on the brink of the waterfall. This fall, although about ten or fifteen feet high, had such a large body of water rushing over it, that the river, instead of falling straight down, gushed over in a steep incline. Down this incline the boat now darted with the speed of lightning. It was full of men, two of whom stood erect, the one in the bow, the other in the stern, to control the movements of the boat.

For a few seconds there was deep silence. The men held their breath as the boat leaped along with the boiling flood. There was a curling white wave at the foot of the fall. The boat cut through this like a knife, drenching her crew with spray. Next moment she swept round into the eddy where the canoe was floating, and the men gave vent to a loud cheer of satisfaction at having run the fall in safety.

But this was not the end of that exciting scene. Scarcely had they gained the land, when another boat appeared on the crest of the fall. Again a shout was given and a dash made. For one moment there was a struggle with the raging flood, and then a loud cheer as the second boat swept into the eddy in safety. Then a third and a fourth boat went through the same operation, and before the end of a quarter of an hour, six boats ran the fall. The bay at the foot of it, which had been so quiet and solitary when Jasper and his friends arrived, became the scene of the wildest confusion and noise, as the men ran about with tremendous activity, making preparations to spend the night there.

Some hauled might and main at the boats; some carried up the provisions, frying-pans, and kettles; others cut down dry trees with their axes, and cut them up into logs from five to six feet long, and as thick as a man’s thigh. These were intended for six great fires, each boat’s crew requiring a fire to themselves.

While this was going on, the principal guides and steersmen crowded round our three travellers, and plied them with questions; for it was so unusual to meet with strangers in that far-off wilderness, that a chance meeting of this kind was regarded as quite an important event.

“You’re bound for York Fort, no doubt,” said Jasper, addressing a tall handsome man of between forty and fifty, who was the principal guide.

“Ay, that’s the end of our journey. You see we’re taking our furs down to the coast. Have you come from York Fort, friend!”

“No, I’ve come all the way from Canada,” said Jasper, who thereupon gave them a short account of his voyage.

“Well, Jasper, you’ll spend the night with us, won’t you?” said the guide.

“That will I, right gladly.”

“Come, then, I see the fires are beginning to burn. We may as well have a pipe and a chat while supper is getting ready.”

The night was now closing in, and the scene in the forest, when the camp-fires began to blaze, was one of the most stirring and romantic sights that could be witnessed in that land. The men of the brigade were some of them French-Canadians, some natives of the Orkney Islands, who had been hired and sent out there by the Hudson’s Bay Company, others were half-breeds, and a few were pure Indians. They were all dressed in what is called voyageur costume-coats or capotes of blue or grey cloth, with hoods to come over their heads at night, and fastened round their waists with scarlet worsted belts; corduroy or grey trousers, gartered outside at the knees, moccasins, and caps. But most of them threw off their coats, and appeared in blue and red striped cotton shirts, which were open at the throat, exposing their broad, sun-burned, hairy chests. There was variety, too, in the caps—some had Scotch bonnets, others red nightcaps, a few had tall hats, ornamented with gold and silver cords and tassels, and a good many wore no covering at all except their own thickly-matted hair. Their faces were burned to every shade of red, brown, and black, from constant exposure, and they were strong as lions, wild as zebras, and frolicksome as kittens.

It was no wonder, then, that Heywood got into an extraordinary state of excitement and delight as he beheld these wild, fine-looking men smoking their pipes and cooking their suppers, sitting, lying, and standing, talking and singing, and laughing, with teeth glistening and eyes glittering in the red blaze of the fires—each of which fires was big enough to have roasted a whole ox!

The young artist certainly made good use of his opportunity. He went about from fire to fire, sketch-book in hand, sketching all the best-looking men in