The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains

Home > Fiction > The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains > Page 29
The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains Page 29

by R. M. Ballantyne


  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

  THE FISHERY DISASTERS.

  One fine day, when summer had merged into autumn, and things in RedRiver appeared to be advancing favourably, and Dan Davidson hadrecovered his strength, and Little Bill was fairly well, it occurred toOkematan that he would like to go to Lake Winnipeg, and see how thesettlers who had gone to the fishery there, were getting on.

  You see, the Cree chief was an observant savage, and, before returningto his tribe, had made up his mind to see all the phases in the life ofthe new Palefaces who had thus come to take possession of the land.

  He was a remarkably independent fellow, and as he served the Davidsonsfor nothing except his food--which he did not count, as he could easilyhave supplied himself with victuals by means of his line, bow, and gun--he did not deem it necessary to ask leave of absence. He merely went tothe house one morning, and announced his intention of going to LakeWinnipeg to fish.

  "I will go with you," said Dan, to whom the announcement was made.

  "An' so will I," said Fred Jenkins, who chanced to be conversing withDan at the time--"that is, if they can spare me just now."

  "The canoe of Okematan," said the chief, "holds no more than three. Hewishes to take with him Arch-ee and Leetil Bill."

  "Very well," returned Dan, "there's no objection to that, for there isnot much doing on the farm at this moment, and Archie has worked hardall the summer, so he deserves a holiday. We will just make up the sameparty that started last time, only that Fergus and I will take asomewhat bigger canoe so as to accommodate you, Jenkins."

  "Thankee. Though I am big--unfort'nitly--I can stow myself away insmall compass, an' I've larned how, when there ain't overmuch grub, togit along fairly well on short allowance. When d'ee trip your anchor?--I mean, when do ye start?"

  "When to-morrow's sun touches the tree-tops in the east," said theIndian chief.

  "All right, Okematan, I'm your man--after layin' in a breakfast-cargo."

  According to this arrangement the two canoes pushed off at daybreak thefollowing morning, from the wharf at the foot of the garden of PrairieCottage, and began the descent of the Red River, which, after flowingbetween twenty and thirty miles northward, enters the mighty bosom ofLake Winnipeg. Okematan and Archie occupied their old places in thestern and bow of the chief's canoe, with Little Bill in the middle--thistime using a paddle, for his strength had greatly increased. The othercanoe was steered by Dan; Fergus acted bowman, and Jenkins sat betweenthem, also wielding a paddle.

  That night they encamped on the banks of the river, for their progresshad been slow, owing to sundry visits which had to be paid to settlerson the way down.

  "Well, now," observed the sailor, as he stood by the camp-fire smokinghis pipe contemplatively, "I find that as circumstances change about inthis world men's minds are apt to go 'bout-ship along wi' them."

  "That sounds a terribly profound speech, Fred," said Archie, who wasbusy at his very usual occupation of whittling an arrow for his brother."Did your father teach it you, or did you crib it from a copy-book?"

  "No, I raither think," retorted the seaman quietly, "that I got it fromyour grandmother by the father's side."

  "What may be the circumstance that has caused your mind to go about-shipjust now?" asked Dan, stirring the fire under the robbiboo-kettle.

  "Well, it's in regard to them there canoe-paddles. Although they doseem small, compared with oars, I find they're quite big enough to dothe work, and although I've bin trained from a youngster to handle theoar, an' go like a crab with my back the way I'm pullin', it do seemmore sensible-like to sit wi' one's face to the front and drive ahead;--anyhow, it's more comfortable and satisfactory."

  "Look out, Jenkins!" exclaimed Little Bill, "else your duck won't besatisfactory--it's burnin' now."

  "O, never mind," remarked Fergus, lighting his pipe. "It iss havin' itwell done he would be fond of."

  "Ay, but not over-done," cried the seaman, snatching the duck inquestion from before the blaze and turning its other side--for they usedno spits in the Nor'-West in those days, but cooked one side at a time--nay, even carved off and ate part of the cooked side while the otherside was roasting.

  Next day they came out on the ocean-like expanse of the great lake, andsteered along its western shores until they reached the fishery, wherenumbers of rudely-constructed wigwams and a few tents sheltered thefishing community.

  They had just returned from a successful visit to the nets when thevisitors arrived, and all was animation and rejoicing at the successfultake. Jacques Bourassin was the first man they met on landing, and hewas enthusiastic about the prospects before them. Slowfoot was thefirst woman, and she was quite satisfied--in that amiable state ofmental and physical felicity in which it is so easy to believe that "allis for the best." Her husband soon after appeared. He, of course, wasalso greatly pleased. He had joined the fishers because he believedthat plenty of food, tea, and tobacco would be going amongst them. Hewas not mistaken.

  "You will come to my tent," he said, in the wealth of his hospitality;"we have plenty of good fish, a very little meat, some tobacco, andoceans of tea!"

  The six visitors accepted the invitation, and were soon made acquaintedwith all the gossip of the community.

  "Does it always smoke?" whispered Little Bill to his brother.

  The "it" referred to was Baby La Certe, which had, as usual, possesseditself of its father's pipe when the mother was not watching.

  "I'm not sure, Little Bill, but I think that it does its best."

  It was observed, especially by Fred Jenkins, that the tea-drinking whichwent on at this place was something marvellous.

  "There's that squaw sittin' there," he said, "she's bin an' swiggedthree pannikins o' tea while I've bin looking at her--an' it's as blackas ink. What's that brown stuff they put into it, does any one know?"

  "That? Why, it is maple sugar," answered Archie, "an' capital stuff itis to eat too."

  "Ah, I know that, for I've ate it in lump, but it can't be so good intea, I fancy, as or'nary brown or white sugar; but it's better than fat,anyhow."

  "Fat!" exclaimed Little Bill, "surely you never heard of any one takingfat in tea, did you?"

  "Ay, that I did. Men that move about the world see strange things. Farstranger things than people invent out o' their own brains. Why, therewas one tribe that I saw in the East who putt fat in the tea, an'another putt salt, and after they'd swallowed this queer kind oftea-soup, they divided the leaves among themselves an' chawed 'em uplike baccy."

  The evident delight with which these half-breeds and more thanhalf-Indians swallowed cup after cup of the blackest and bitterest tea,proved beyond question their appreciation of the article, and affordedpresumptive evidence at least that tea is not in their case as poisonousas we are taught to believe.

  But it was not, as Jenkins remarked, all fair weather, fun, and tea atthe fishery. After the six visitors had been there for a week, shootingand assisting in the canoes, and at the nets, there came a night whenthe forces of Nature declared war against the half-breeds and thosesettlers who had cast in their lot with them at that time.

  Jenkins, Okematan, and Archie had been out with their guns that day--thelast having been promoted to the use of the dangerous weapon--and intheir wanderings had about nightfall come upon a family of half-breedsnamed Dobelle, a good-natured set, who lived, like La Certe, on the_laissez faire_ principle; who dwelt in a little log-hut of their ownconstruction within the margin of the forest, not far from the shore ofthe great lake.

  This family, though claiming to be Christian and civilised, was littlebetter than vagrant and savage. They were to some extent as independentas the brute creation around them--though of course they betrayed theinherent weakness of mankind in being unable to exist happily withouttea, sugar, and tobacco. For the rest, their wants were few and easilysatisfied. Snares provided willow-grouse and rabbits; traps gave themfurs and the means of purchasing guns and powder. Their log-hut was
only an occasional residence. Wherever night overtook them they were athome. They camped on the open plains, in the woods, among the rocks,and on the margins of rivers and lakes. Healthy, happy, and heedless,the Dobelle family cared for nothing apparently, but the comfort of thepassing hour; regarded the past as a convenient magazine from which todraw subjects for gossip and amusement, and left the future to lookafter itself.

  There were in the hut, when the three visitors entered, old Dobelle, hiswife, a daughter of eighteen, another of four, and two sons of twentyand twenty-two respectively.

  "It looks like dirty weather," said Jenkins on entering; "will you letus come to an anchor here for a bit?"

  "Give us shelter?" explained Archie, who doubted old Dobelle's abilityto understand nautical language.

  "You are welcome," said the half-breed, making way politely, andpointing to places on the floor where the visitors were expected tosquat. For there was no furniture in that mansion; the fire was kindledin the middle of its one room; the family sat around it on deer andbuffalo skins, and the smoke alike of pipe and fire found egress at thecrevices in the roof.

  With kind hospitality Madame Dobelle poured some black tea into cups ofbirch-bark, and, on plates of the same material, spread before them theremains of a feast of roasted fish.

  While eating this, various questions were put as to the success of thefishery.

  "Yes--we have been very successful," said old Dobelle. "No bad weatherto speak of, and plenty of fish. Our good fortune is great."

  "But it won't last long," said the eldest son, who seemed to be the onlygrowler in the family.

  "_N'importe_--we will enjoy it while it lasts," said the younger son.

  "Yes, truly we will," remarked Madame Dobelle. Whereupon the daughterof eighteen smiled, and the daughter of four giggled.

  "What does Okematan think?" asked the host.

  Thus appealed to, the chief gave it as his opinion that something wasgoing to happen, for the sky in the nor'-west looked uncommonly black.Having given utterance to this cautious remark he relapsed into silence.

  As if to justify his opinion, a tremendous clap of thunder seemed torend the heavens at that moment, and, a few minutes later, a heavyshower of rain fell.

  "Well that we got inside before that came on," said Archie. "I hope itwon't come on to blow, else we shall be storm-stayed here."

  The weather seemed to be in a lively mood that night, for as the thunderhad promptly answered to Okematan's observation, so now the wind repliedto Archie's remark, by rushing up the natural avenue which extended fromthe hut to the lake and almost bursting in the door.

  "See to the ropes, boys," said old Dobelle, glancing uneasily at theroof.

  The young men arose, went out, regardless of weather, and secured withadditional care a couple of stout ropes with which the tendency of theroof to fly away was restrained.

  "Did it ever come off?" asked Archie with some curiosity, as the youngmen returned and resumed their pipes.

  "Yes--twice, and both times it was night," answered Madame Dobelle, "andwe were flooded out and had to camp under the trees."

  "Which was not comfortable," added the old man. Another clap of thunderseemed to corroborate what he said, and a blast of wind followed, whichcaused the whole fabric of the hut to shudder. Jenkins lookedinquiringly at the roof.

  "No fear of it," said old Dobelle; "the ropes are strong."

  Thus assured, the visitors continued their meal with equanimity,regardless of the storm that soon began to rage with great fury,insomuch that the door required a prop to keep it up and rain began totrickle in through crevices in the roof and drop here and there upon theparty. When one such drop chanced to fall on old Dobelle's nose, hisyounger son arose, and, fastening a piece of birch-bark to the rafters,caught the drop and trained it with its followers to flow towards anunoccupied place in one corner, which, being accidentally lower than therest of the floor, formed a convenient receptacle for superfluous water.

  At the same time Madame Dobelle made a shakedown of pine-branches inanother corner for her visitors, for it was obvious that they would haveto spend the night there, even although their own tent was notfar-distant.

  By that time the storm was raging with unwonted violence. Neverthelessthe Dobelle family smoked on in placid contentment. When the time forrepose arrived, Madame Dobelle and her eldest girl retired to a box-bedin a corner of the hut which was screened off--not very effectually--bya curtain of birch-bark. The two brothers lay down in another corner.The three visitors disposed themselves in the third, and, as the fourthwas monopolised by the rain-rivulet, old Dobelle lay down on one side ofthe fire in the centre of the room, while the four-year-old girl reposedon the other.

  During the night the accumulation of tobacco-smoke with fire-smokeproduced a suffocating effect, but no one was capable of suffocationapparently, for they all smoked on--except Archie, who, as we have said,had not acquired the habit. Even the four-year-old girl, like Baby LaCerte, had a pull now and then at its father's pipe, and, from sundrywhite emanations from the crevices in the bark curtains, it was evidentthat the ladies behind these were enjoying themselves in the same wayduring the intervals of repose.

  Next morning was fine, and the three sportsmen returned to the fisheryto find that the storm had made an almost clean sweep of the nets. Ithad carried most of them away; torn others to pieces, and almost ruinedthe whole colony of fishermen; the ruin being all the more complete thatmost of the nets had been received on credit, and were to be paid forchiefly by the results of the autumn fishery.

  La Certe was one of the chief sufferers; nevertheless, to judge from hislooks, La Certe did not suffer much! He had brought a considerableamount of provision with him, as we have said, and, finding that one ofhis nets had been washed ashore, he proceeded very leisurely to mend it,while he smoked and assisted Slowfoot to consume pemmican and tea.

  About this time a mysterious message was sent to Dan Davidson from RedRiver by an Indian, requiring his immediate return. The sender of themessage was Elspie McKay; the summons was therefore obeyed at once.

  As nothing further could be done at the fishery that autumn, the othermembers of the expedition, and most of the fishers, returned with Dan tothe colony.

 

‹ Prev