South from Hudson Bay: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

by Ethel C. Brill

  XVII CHRISTMAS AT PEMBINA

  There was no reason now why Walter should hesitate to be away from thesettlement, yet the proposed buffalo hunt was postponed again. Theanimals were far from Pembina that autumn. For miles to the south andwest, the prairie had been swept by fires started by careless Indians orhalf-breeds who had allowed their camp fires to spread. In that blackeneddesolation there was no feed for buffalo. The boys had expected to gobeyond the burned country in search of the herds, but, before they wereready to start, a heavy fall of snow made horseback travel impossible.Storm winds swept the prairie, and Louis shook his head at the prospect.

  "This will drive the beasts yet farther away," he said. "They will gowhere the snow is not so deep and where there are trees for shelter. Wecould travel with dog sleds of course, but we might search for long tofind buffalo, and to hunt them on foot is much more difficult than onhorseback. But perhaps this snow will not last."

  With the coming of deep snow Walter was given his first lessons insnowshoeing and dog driving. Learning to walk with the clumsy rackets wasnot easy, he found. He got more than one tumble before he mastered theart. Driving a dog sled looked simple enough, when Louis hitched up hisdogs and took his little sisters for a ride. The three animals differedconsiderably in size, appearance and breed, but worked well together.Hitched tandem, they were off with a dash, the little bells on theirharness jingling merrily. They followed a trail already broken by othersleds, and Louis ran alongside shouting and flourishing his whip. After aturn on the prairie, they were back again.

  "Come, you shall have a ride now," Louis said to Walter, as the littlegirls,--cheeks red and black eyes sparkling,--unrolled themselves fromthe fur robes.

  Curious to try this new mode of travel, Walter seated himself on therobes. "_Marche donc_," cried Louis, and the team was away, the tobogganslipping smoothly over the well-packed trail. Running alongside orstanding behind Walter on the sled, Louis urged his dogs to their bestspeed. When, after a first spurt, they slowed to a steadier pace, hesuggested that Walter try driving.

  "Stay where you are. You don't need to get up. There must be weight tohold the _tabagane_ down." Handing Walter the whip, Louis stepped off thesled.

  Louis seemed to manage the team easily, and Walter had no doubt of hisown ability to drive. He shouted to the dogs in imitation of his friend,and, waving the long whip high in air, flicked the leader's back with thelash.

  The dogs must have noticed the difference in the voice. They must havesensed the awkwardness and inexperience of the new driver. Withoutwarning, the leader,--a woolly haired, bushy tailed beast with fox-likehead and sharp pointed ears,--swerved from the trail into untracked snow.In vain Walter tried to get him back on the track. The dogs were out fora frolic and they had it. They bounded and floundered through the softspots and raced across hard packed stretches. The prairie, Walterdiscovered, was by no means so smooth as it looked. The wind had sweptthe snow into waves and billows. The toboggan mounted the windward sideof a snow wave, balanced on the crest, and bumped down abruptly. Shoutsand commands were of no avail. Walter could but cling to the swaying,jouncing, skidding sled, and let the dogs go where they would.

  Suddenly the beasts concluded they had had about enough of the sport. Itwas time for the grand climax. With a quick turn, they swung abouttowards home. The toboggan turned too, clear over, and Walter wentsprawling. When he picked himself up, the provoking animals were sittingquietly in the snow, more or less tangled up in their traces, tongueshanging out, laughing at him. Louis, shouting hilariously, came runningup on his snowshoes to right the toboggan.

  For a moment Walter was angry. "You knew what would happen," he criedaccusingly. "What did you do to make them act that way?"

  "No, no," laughed Louis. "I did nothing. Askime knew you had never drivenbefore, and so he played you a trick. He is a wise dog, Askime, but hedeserves a beating."

  The leader of the team was a hardy, swift, intelligent beast, almost pureEskimo, as his name indicated. The other dogs were of more mixed breed.Both had sharp muzzles and thick, straight hair, brown with white spotson one, dark wolf-gray on the other. Louis was proud of the husky, whomhe had raised from puppyhood. Nevertheless he picked up his whip andstarted towards Askime.

  Walter, his flash of anger past, intervened. "No, don't thrash him. Hewas just having a little fun. He has taken the conceit out of me, butI'll get even with him yet. I'll learn to drive those dogs and make thembehave."

  Louis was still grinning. "Truly you will learn," he hastened to say,"and--well--perhaps," his grin broadened, "I might have told you morebefore you tried this first time. Next time it will go better."

  It did go better next time, and before the winter was over, Walter couldhandle the dogs satisfactorily, though they never obeyed him as well astheir real master.

  The snow remained, and the buffalo did not return to the neighborhood ofPembina. Winter had set in in earnest, but Walter was used to coldwinters and the Brabant cabin was snug and comfortable. Even the bitterwinds that swept the prairie could not find an entrance between the wellchinked logs.

  The Swiss lad cherished the hope of spending Christmas with the Periers.He planned to go to the Selkirk settlement with a dog train that expectedto leave Fort Daer December twenty-first or twenty-second, but he wasdisappointed. A hard snowstorm, a genuine blizzard, with a high wind outof the north, prevented the sleds from getting away, and he was forced toremain in Pembina.

  On Christmas morning he went with the Brabant family to Father Dumoulin'smission. There was no Protestant church in Pembina, he liked andrespected Father Dumoulin, and he did not want to hurt Mrs. Brabant andLouis by refusing to go with them. The boy was surprised to see howcrowded the mission chapel was with the Canadians and _bois brules_, men,women, and children. Very reverently and devoutly the rough, half savagehunters and voyageurs joined in the service and listened to the priest'swords.

  The rest of the day the simple, light-hearted people of Pembinacelebrated in a very different fashion, feasting, dancing, gaming, anddrinking. Gambling and fondness for liquor were the besetting sins of thehalf-breeds as well as of the Indians, though Father Dumoulin was tryinghard to teach them to restrain these passions.

  Walter had come to know the rough, wild, but generous and hospitable_bois brules_ well. He could not decline all their invitations to join inthe merrymaking. Moreover he was young, and homesick, and he wanted toshare in the festivities. He went with Louis and Neil MacKay to severalof the cabins during the afternoon and early evening, where the three ateas much as they could manage of the food pressed upon them. The gamingwas carried on principally by the older men, the younger ones preferringto dance. With a little diplomacy, drinking could be avoided withoutgiving offence. Louis and Neil, as well as Walter, had been brought up tobe temperate. They did not hesitate to take part in the dancing.

  Never had Walter seen such lively, agile jigging as some of the lithe,muscular, swarthy skinned half-breeds were capable of. Men and women werearrayed in their best, and the dark, smoke-blackened cabins were alivewith the gay colors of striped shirts and calico dresses, fringed sashes,gaudy shawls, silk and cotton kerchiefs, ribbons, and Indian beadwork.

  After dancing until they were weary, the three boys slipped away early,before the fun grew too fast and furious. Walter found it good to be outin the clean, cold air again, away from the heat and smoke and heavyodors of the tightly closed cabins.

  The night was a beautiful one, clear and windless. To the north andnortheast, from horizon to zenith, wavering, flashing bands and masses oflight flooded the sky. Parting with Neil, Louis and Walter trudgedthrough the snow towards the Brabant cabin. Both were absorbed inwatching the aurora borealis, the ever changing rays and columns andspreading masses of white, green, and pale pink light, fading out in onespot only to flash up in another, in constant motion and never alike fortwo moments in succession. But when he turned from the beauty of thenight to enter the ca
bin, there swept over Walter, in a great wave, thehomesickness he had been holding at arms' length all day. He thought ofthe Christmas of a year ago in Switzerland, and he was heartsick for themountains and valleys and forests of his native land,--so different fromthese flat, monotonous prairies,--heartsick for his own people and theirspeech and ways. What kind of a Christmas had this been for Elise andMax, he wondered. Were they homesick too?