The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  HIGH STATE OF CULTIVATION OF SETTLEMENTS--RUPERT'S LAND--THE RAPIDS--LAKE WINNIPEG--OUR BIVOUAC--PETER NEARLY "DROWNED AND DEAD"--HOW WECAUGHT FISH--THE SWAMPIES, AND THEIR MODE OF FISHING--AN OJIBWAYMISSIONARY STATION--THE SALT SPRINGS--PAS MISSION--FORT A LA CARNE.

  As our object was to see as much as possible of Central British America,we sent John stalker with two of our carts laden with stores andprovisions, on to Fort a la Carne, situated near the junction of the twobranches of the Saskatchewan River, there to await our arrival, while wetravelled back to Red River, there to embark in our canoes, and tovoyage in them through Lake Winnipeg and up the North Saskatchewan.Travelling as we did with an abundance of food, and without any fear ofknocking up our animals, we made rapid journeys, and were soon again atRed River. I will not stop to describe the really comfortabledwellings, the wheat-producing farms, the herds of fat cattle, and thedroves of pigs we met as we approached the settlement. Neither Trevornor I had any idea that a spot existed, so remote from the Atlantic onone side, and the Pacific on the other, containing a community possessedof so many sources of wealth. All the farmers we spoke to explained tous that they only wanted one thing, and that was a market, or in otherwords, settlers who would come and buy their produce.

  "But if settlers come they will produce food for themselves," remarkedTrevor.

  "So a few of them will," answered the farmer. "But there will also comebutchers, and bakers, and carpenters, and masons, and magistrates, andpolicemen, and soldiers, and numbers of other people who will producenothing, and they will gladly buy what we have to sell. Just open upthe country, sir. Make it easy for people to reach us from Canada;establish settlements from this to the westward to British Columbia, andnot only we, but all who come here will be, ere long, on the fair way towealth and prosperity."

  "Yes, sir, sure of it, certain of it," cried Trevor. "It must becomeknown before long, and appreciated. At least I should say so, if wewere not so terribly slow to move in England. The next generation willaccomplish the work if not this, that's one comfort."

  "Small comfort to us, sir, in the meantime," answered the farmer. "Weshall be stagnating, growing old and rusty; or may be the Yankees willbe beforehand and open up communication between the Atlantic andPacific, while folks in England are only talking about it."

  "I'll write a book as soon as I get home, and tell them all about it,"cried Trevor. "I'll make your case known--the case of the country Ishould say, I'll tell old and young--the boys of England if the menwon't listen--so that the boys may take it up when they grow older andable to act."

  The farmer shook his head, and thought that Jack was slightly crackedwhen he talked thus. For my own part I believe that the people ofEngland will, before long, be made to understand the importance of thesubject, though it may be said that neither Jack nor I writing about itfor the rising generation will do much good, and therefore I will dropthe subject and go ahead with our adventures.

  We found Swiftfoot, with the rest of our men, eager to be off, and thetwo canoes in perfect order. I think that I mentioned that the RedRiver runs for two or three hundred miles, or more, from the UnitedStates territory, through Rupert's Land, into Lake Winnipeg. For thewhole of this distance it is navigable, with the exception of a portionnear the mouth, where some fierce rapids exist, over which even canoescannot pass. We consequently had to embark below these rapids. Weslept for the last time in a house for many a day at the Indiansettlement, and shoving off from the shore, soon passed through one ofthe reedy bank mouths of the Red River, into the open lake. The windwas contrary, but as there was not much of it, we paddled boldly onthrough the lake. It was curious to feel ourselves traversing whatlooked like an arm of the sea, in fabrics of a nature so frail as wasthat of our birch-bark canoes. What mere specks we must have appearedon the wide waters. The shore was clothed chiefly with aspens, birchand willow, and here and there bare limestone rocks appeared, thescenery having altogether a very wild and uncultivated look. There aremany islands. On one of them we landed to rest and dine, intending topaddle on afterwards till it was time to camp for the night. While someof us were lighting fires, and making other preparations for a meal,Swiftfoot and three other men went out to fish, and soon returned withsufficient sturgeon, shad and bass, to feast the whole party.

  Whether at home amidst all the comforts of civilisation, or out in theuncultivated wilds still almost untrodden by man, a good dinner is apleasant and soothing thing, and little do I envy that person whoseheart is dead to gratitude to the great Giver for the gift. Here in thewilderness, His oxen covering a thousand hills, and delicious fowl andfish daily furnishing our meal, we never separated from table withoutsending up thanks to Him in simple words.

  Refreshed in mind and body, away we went at a great rate before thebreeze, with our square sail of cotton set. The Indians make theirsails of the same material that they do their canoes, of birch-bark. Itwill not stand a heavy gale, neither will their canoes, so they alwayskeep in harbour, or rather hauled up high and dry on such occasions.Lake Winnipeg is like a wasp's body, very narrow in one port and broadat the ends. It runs north-west and south-east, and is about twohundred and eighty miles long, and fifty-seven broad, at its widestpart. Our course was along the centre of the widest part of thesouthern end. With a bright moon, not to lose the favourable breeze, weran on all night, eager to reach the mouth of the Saskatchewan, which itis possible to do from Red River in three days, and which will be doneregularly when steamers are placed on the lake. What very unromanticand common-place ideas--steamers and Red Indians, and the far-west andcornfields!--the truth is, that romance is disappearing before the marchof civilisation; however, no fear but that we should meet withadventures before long. After passing the narrow part of the lake wewere paddling on towards evening in the hopes of gaining an island,where it was proposed that we should camp. The sky had been clear butclouds began to appear in the north-east, increasing quickly in numberstill they covered the sky, and a heavy swell rolled in towards us, suchas would not be thought much of by those on board the _Great Eastern_,but which to us, embarked in frail bark canoes, was somewhat formidable;and then foaming waves arose and tossed us about till we expected everymoment that the canoes would be upset. We paddled on with all our mightagainst the fast rising gale to reach the shelter of the island, whichwe saw in the far distance.

  The matter was growing serious, for every instant the waves wereincreasing in height. It seemed scarcely possible that our light canoescould float much longer. The force of the water alone was sufficient tocrumple them up. Peter looked very pale, but said nothing, and baledaway perseveringly, while our _voyageurs_ paddled bravely on, facing thedanger like men. Now we rose on the top of a huge sea foaming andbubbling and curling round us, and then down we sank again in thehollow, and it appeared that the next sea which we saw rolling on fierceand angry must overwhelm us, and so it would had we stayed where wewere, but our buoyant canoes rose up the watery hill, and there we wereon the top ready to plunge down on the other side. It was an anxioustime. An accident to one canoe would have proved the destruction ofboth, for unless we had deserted our companions, in attempting to savethem both would probably have perished. Our only chance would have beento throw all the lading out of the canoes and to cling on to them tillwe might be washed on shore. All we could feel was that, by dint ofgreat exertions, we were making progress towards the island. Weencouraged each other also by guessing how many yards we had made duringeach ten minutes. More than once I thought that we should go down, andat length a sea higher than its predecessors came rolling on, and Iheard Trevor's voice cry out that the canoe was filling and that theywere sinking, urging us to paddle on and not to attempt to save them. Ilooked round--they had disappeared--my heart sank--we were leading, wecould not have turned back without certain destruction--our only chancewas to keep working away head to wind. I knew that, yet I longed tomake an attempt to rescue my friend and his compani
ons. I dared notlook back. I thought that I should see them struggling in the waves,and yet not be able to stretch out a hand to help them. Presently Iheard a voice. It was Jack's--in cheery tones singing out--

  "All right, Jolly; we've got rid of our ballast and will soon be up withyou."

  I was thankful, indeed, to hear him, and little heeded the loss of thelading of which he spoke; though, as it consisted chiefly of ourprovisions, it was a serious matter. I did look round for an instant,and then he was paddling on as if nothing had been the matter. Still,we had a long way to go and darkness was coming on. My motto has alwaysbeen "persevere--never give in while life remains." So we paddled on.I had begun to fear, however, that we should never reach the island,when, on our port bow, as a sailor would say, appeared some low shrubsgrowing out of, not the water, but a sandbank which the dancing waveshad before prevented us seeing. Had we gone on a few minutes longer andbeen driven on it to windward, though we might, for the moment, haveescaped with our lives, our canoes must have been dashed in pieces andall our store and provisions destroyed and lost. I pointed it out toTrevor just in time; and now allowing our canoes to drop astern a littlewe found ourselves in comparatively smooth water, under the lee of thebank. Rather than risk proceeding further, especially as the channelbetween the bank and the island was rougher than any part, we agreed toland.

  In a strong boat this is an easy matter, but a stone or a branch maydrive a hole in an instant through a thin birch canoe. As soon,therefore, as we neared the shore we jumped out and lifted our canoes onto firm ground. I will not call it dry, for the spray completelycovered it. Still we had reason to be thankful that we had escaped thegreat danger to which we had been exposed. We had very little lightleft us, but we picked out the highest and driest spot among the busheswe could find, though neither very high nor very dry, and there wemanaged to camp. We had no hopes of keeping our tent standing, and,indeed, before we could light a fire it was necessary to construct ascreen to protect it from the wind. This we did with some sticks andbirch-bark and shrubs washed on shore, and under it we all crouched downto try and dry our wet garments--when we had, after no little trouble,lighted our fire. The only wood we could get to burn was found underbushes and other sheltered places. Our crews were greatly fatigued withtheir exertions, and wrapping themselves up in their buffalo robes, theywere soon asleep, as was Peter. Trevor and I also being very tired werepreparing to follow their example--indeed, in spite of the storm, wecould scarcely keep awake. We made up our fire as well as we could,hoping that it would continue burning till somebody awoke to replenishit. We persuaded ourselves that it was useless to keep watch, as nohostile Indians could approach us; nor could any wild beasts; our canoeswere secured, and the fire was so placed that it could not injure us.

  "Good night, old fellow," said Trevor, drowsily. "Wake me when thestorm is over, for we shall not be able to move till then."

  "Of course," said I. "But if you wake first rouse me up."

  "Oh, yes. I say, Har--that's it--just what--"

  Trevor's attempt to speak more failed him--or, at all events, I did nothear him, and we were both asleep. In my sleep, however, I heard thestorm raging and the water dashing against the sandbank. Suddenly I wasconscious that I was lifted from the ground--there was a hissing noise,and I felt very cold. I sprang to my feet, shouting out to the rest ofthe party, who were soon spluttering and jumping and crying out, notknowing what had happened or was going to happen. I very quicklyguessed; a wave had broken over the bank, and as yet we could notdiscover who or what it had carried off, as it had completelyextinguished the fire. I shouted out, demanding if all hands werethere. Trevor, Swiftfoot, Pierre Garoupe, and the other _voyageurs_answered; but Peter made no reply. Again I shouted--no one answered.We felt for the spot where he had lain, but he was not there.

  "Poor fellow, he must be lost!" I exclaimed.

  Just then I heard a cry, and Ready, who had disappeared, gave a bark.Guided by the sound, I stumbled on to the spot, and there, caught in abush and half in the water, I found a human being whom I recognised asPeter, from his exclamation--

  "Oh, sir, we shall all be drowned and dead!"

  With considerable exertion I managed to drag him up to the top of thebank again; and it was some time before he recovered. Some of the partyran to the canoes--they were safe as yet--but the storm was raging morefuriously than ever, and should another wave wash over our bank theymight be carried bodily away, when, unless seen by passing Indians, weshould be left to starve.

  To light another fire was impossible, as by this time all the woodaround was thoroughly saturated. So there we sat or stood the livelongnight, holding on to bushes or to paddles or other pieces of wood stuckin the ground to enable us to resist any other wave which should bedriven over the bank. I have passed several disagreeable nights in mylife, but that was one of the most disagreeable. All I can say is thatit might have been worse. I would rather have been there than rackedwith pain on a bed of sickness--or on an iceberg--or in an open boat inthe South Pacific, parched with thirst--or in a dungeon, or in manyother disagreeable places. So we sat quiet, and tried to amuseourselves by talking. Wet damps the pipes, I have observed, of the mostdetermined songster or whistler; so that although two or three of usbegan a tune, it speedily stopped.

  The storm raged as furiously as ever, the waves coming one after theother rolling up the bank; and, as we watched them, it appeared as ifeach successive one must advance beyond its predecessors and sweep usaway. Poor Peter, after his former experience, was very much alarmed.

  "Here it comes again, sir; here it comes. 'Twill be all over with us!"he cried out, as a huge roller capped with foam, looking vastly higherthan it really was, came onwards towards the bank. It struck the solidground, which it palpably shook. Then on it came, curling over, up, up,up. The water reached us; we sprang to our feet, holding each other'shands and bending forward to resist its power united to the fury of thewind. It scarcely, however, reached to our ankles. While some of themass rushed over the bank, the greater part flowed back, to be againhurled forward yet with diminished strength against the opposingbarrier.

  The dawn will come in spite of the darkness of the longest night; and asthis was a short one, we were agreeably surprised to find it breaking,though, in the uncertain light, the waters looked more foaming andagitated than they appeared to be when the day was more advanced.

  Gradually, too, the wind fell, the rollers ceased to strike the bankwith their former fury, and though after a storm on the ocean days passbefore it becomes calm, scarcely had the wind dropped than the surfaceof the lake became proportionately smooth. The sun came out, and itspowerful rays dried our clothes and sticks sufficient to boil ourkettle. After a hearty breakfast, we repaired our canoes with freshgum, and continued our voyage.

  As Trevor had been compelled to throw overboard so much of ourprovisions, we were anxious to secure some more to prevent the necessityof sending back to Red River. Swiftfoot told us of a river near at handwhere large quantities of fine fish can always be caught--the Jack-fishRiver. Towards it we steered, and, after proceeding up a little way,came upon a weir, or "basket," as it is called, erected across it by theIndians. It was much broken; but a number of Turkey buzzards hoveredaround, ready to pounce on any fish which might get into it. OurIndians immediately set to work to repair it. Indians, like othersavages, are very industrious when hungry, and idle in the extreme whentheir appetites are satisfied. Our fellows were, fortunately for us,hungry, and so they worked with a will. The weir consisted of a fenceof poles stretching completely across the river and doping in thedirection of the current, so that the water could pass freely through.On one side there was an opening in this palisade, near the bank, abouta yard in width, leading into a rectangular box with a grated bottomsloping upwards, through which the water flowed with perfect ease. Thefish in the day-time see the weir, and either swim back or jump over it;but at night, hoping to avoid it, they dart throu
gh the opening, notobserving the impediment beyond. Swimming on, they at length findthemselves high and dry on the upper part of the grated trap or pound.The fisherman sits by the side of it with a wooden mallet in his hand,with which he knocks the larger fish on the head as they appear, andthen pitches them out on the bank to be in readiness for his squaw, whoappears in the morning to clean and cut them up.

  We repaired the weir before dark, and, camping near it, after supper setto work to catch fish in this, to us, novel manner. We divided theparty into watches, so that fish-catching and cleaning went on allnight. I began, with Swiftfoot to assist me. I knocked the fish on thehead, and he threw them out, while a whole gang were employed insplitting and cleaning them. No sooner were the shades of evening castover the river than the hapless fish began to dash into our trap. The_masque-alonge_, a huge pike, first made his appearance, his furtherprogress being effectually stopped; and he was soon on the grass in thehands of the cleaners. Five or six gold-eyes next appeared, and then asucking-carp and three perch, or, more correctly, well-eyed pike. The_voyageurs_ had lighted a fire, and those not engaged in fishing sat upto eat the fish caught by their companions as fast as they could cookthem. Ready, who had been on short commons lately, especially relishedhis share. As we had formed two pounds, one on each bank of the river,and had relays of fish-catchers, we entrapped between three and fourhundred fish of the sorts I have mentioned. Had we possessed asufficient supply of salt, we might have effectually preserved them. Wepickled all we could, and dried in the sun and with smoke those we didnot immediately eat.

  The lake being calm, the following day we continued our voyage to themouth of the Little Saskatchewan River, which, it will be seen,communicates with Lake Manitobah, close to which there are some valuablesalt works. The wind was fair up the river, but foul for proceeding tothe works by the lake. Setting sail, we ran merrily along under sail,overtaking a fleet of Indian canoes belonging to a tribe of Swampies,each with a birch-bark sail. At night we camped, and our Swampy friendscoming up with us, did the same near a rapid, where they immediatelybegan to fish. This they did from their canoes. One man paddled andanother stood in the bow of the canoe with a net like a landing net atthe end of a long pole. As his quick eye detected a fish he dipped hisnet as a scoop or ladle is used, and each time brought up a fish threeor four pounds weight. I may safely say that I saw an Indian, in thecourse of a few minutes, catch twenty-five white fish. If these peoplebetter knew the method of preserving their fish they need never suffer,as they often do, from hunger.

  That morning, the wind being foul, the poor squaws were employed intracking the canoes along the banks of the river. After watching themfor some time as they came up towards our camp Peter went forward, andin dumb show, offered to help them, whereat he was treated by the ladieswith silent contempt, while his companions saluted him with shouts ofhearty laughter. I cannot describe the scenery fully of this curiousmixture of lake and stream through which we passed. The banks aregenerally low--now the water rushed through a narrow passage formed ofhuge boulders of rocks--now it expanded into a fine lake. Once weforced our way through a vast natural rice field extending for miles,affording food for birds innumerable, and to as many Indians as took thetrouble to collect it. They run their canoes into the midst of a spotwhere the rice is the thickest, and bending down the tall stalks, shakethem till they have a full cargo. At length we reached, what we littleexpected to find in that remote region, a large comfortable cottage inthe midst of a well-cultivated and productive farm, surrounded by anumber of smaller but neat dwellings. This was an Indian missionarystation, where upwards of a hundred and fifty Indian men, women, andchildren, permanently reside under the superintendence of a devotedEnglish missionary and his wife, assisted by a highly-educated younglady who had lately come out from England to join them. She has learnedthe Ojibway language, so as to devote her attention most profitably tothe education of the children. We visited the school, and it wasinteresting to see the way in which the little dark-skinned creatureslistened to the words which came from the young lady's lips, and theintelligent answers they gave, as our interpreters translated them, tothe questions she put.

  There was a service in Ojibway, consisting of prayers, a chapter in theBible, singing, and a short address, which we attended. Thecongregation was most attentive, and a considerable number of heathenIndians came in to listen. The service was rather short, but I have nodoubt that the excellent missionary considered it wiser to send hishearers away wishing for more, and resolved to come again to listen,than with a feeling of weariness, and declaring that it should be thelast time they would set foot within those walls. The missionary's owncottage was excessively neat and pretty, both inside and out, hefeeling, evidently, that it must serve as a model, as he himself, in adegree, was to his converts. Their abodes were, indeed, very superiorto those of heathen Indians, while their fields, cultivated in a muchbetter manner than are those found generally among the Indian tribes,are made to produce Indian corn, potatoes, and a variety of othervegetables. There was nothing very curious or romantic in the shortvisit we paid to this missionary station in the wilderness, yet it wastruly one of the most really interesting, thus to find a church in thewilderness performing its duty effectually of converting the heathenfrom their gross ignorance and sin to a knowledge and practice of thetruth. Not far off was a Hudson's Bay Company's post, and, like someprevious travellers we afterwards met, we had to complain of the scenesof drunkenness and vice which took place among the heathen Indiansencamped outside it. The Company prohibits the sale of liquor toIndians; but notwithstanding this large quantities are given away toinduce them to sell their peltries cheap, and to gamble away theirproperty, so that they must go forth again to hunt. Thus themissionaries are unable to obtain an influence over them, and theunhappy race are dying from three causes--from drunkenness, fromhardships, and from scarcity of food, which, as hunters for fur-bearinganimals, they are unable to provide for themselves and families. In myopinion, by means of missionaries who can impart Christian knowledge,and instruction in agricultural and other useful arts, with the openingup of markets for the result of their industry, can alone the rapiddecrease of the Indian race be arrested.

  After a pleasant stay of a couple of days at this promising station, weproceeded on our voyage to the Salt Springs. After passing into LakeWinnepegosis, we reached the springs, which are situated about fourhundred yards from the lake shore, on a barren area of about ten acresof extent, but a few feet above the level of the lake. The whole shoreof the lake is said to contain salt springs. At this spot there aresome forty or fifty springs, though rather less than thirty wells havebeen dug by the manufacturers, whose works consist of three log-huts,three evaporating furnaces, and some large iron kettles or boilers.When a fresh spring is discovered a well five feet broad and five deepis excavated and a hut and furnace erected near it. The brine from thewells is ladled into the kettles, and as the salt forms it is scoopedout and allowed to remain a short time to drain before it is packed inbirch-bark baskets for transportation to the settlements. The brine isso strong that thirty gallons of brine produce a bushel of salt; andfrom each kettle, of which there are eight or nine, two bushels can bemade in a day in dry weather. Some freighters' boats were taking incargo at the portage on Lake Manitobah for the Red River as well as forother parts, and we here also took on board as much as we could carry;having purchased several bushels besides, to be brought on to the mouthof the Little Saskatchewan, that we might salt some white fish to serveus for future use.

  We might have proceeded by a more direct route--through LakeWinnepegosis--to the mouth of the Great Saskatchewan, but we wished tonavigate the large lake from one end to the other. We accomplished allwe proposed in five days--reached the mouth of the rapid andgold-bearing Great Saskatchewan. Near the entrance is a long and fiercerapid, which it was necessary for us to mount, before we could againreach water on which we could navigate our canoes. It is nearly twomiles in
length. The water from above comes on smoothly and steadily;then, suddenly, as if stimulated to action by some sudden impulse, itbegins to leap and foam and roll onward till it forms fierce andtumultuous surges, increasing in size till they appear like the rollingbillows of a tempestuous sea, ready to engulf any boat venturing overthem. In the one case, on the ocean, the movement is caused by the windabove; in the present instance by that of the water itself passing overan incline of rough rocks beneath.

  Having partly unladen our canoes, leaving two men in alone, one to steerand the other to fend off the rocks, the rest of us harnessed ourselvesto the end of a long tow line, with straps round our bodies, andcommenced tracking them up the rapid along a path at the top of thecliffs. It was very hard work, as we had to run and leap and scramblealong the slippery and jagged rocks alongside the cataract.

  It was curious to know that we were still in the very heart of a vastcontinent, and yet to be navigating a river upwards of half-a-mile inwidth. After proceeding twenty miles we passed through Cross Lake, andsoon afterwards entered Cedar Lake, which is thirty miles long andtwenty broad. We had now to proceed for some hundred miles up thishitherto little-known river, which, rising in the Rocky Mountains, isnavigable very nearly the whole distance from their base. As we weresailing we were agreeably surprised, on turning a point, to see beforeus on the right bank of the river, in the midst of fields of wavingcorn, a somewhat imposing church, whose tall spire, gilt by the lastrays of the evening sun, was mirrored in the gliding river; acomfortable looking parsonage; a large and neat school-house, andseveral other dwelling-houses and cottages. This proved to be the PasMission, one of the many supported by the Church Missionary Society.Here we were most liberally and hospitably received. Above it is FortCumberland, a trading post of the Hudson's Bay Company. An upwardvoyage of a hundred and fifty miles, aided by a strong breeze, broughtus to Fort a la Carne, another Hudson's Bay Company's post, where wefound Stalker and our carts, and were joined by Pierre Garoupe, who hadcome across the country from Red River with a further supply ofprovisions and stores.