Saskatchewan header.

Fort Edmonton to the Rocky Mountains.


Chapter Twelve.

(August 17 to 31.)

Departure from Edmonton - First Frosts of Autumn - Meet Mr Moberly: his advice as to Route - The Mission at St. Ann - Protestant and Roman Catholic Missionaries - Order and Comfort at the Mission-House. It's Books and Pamphlets - Purchases of Horses - Lac des Isles - Horrible Roads - The Pembina and its Scenery - Buffalo Creek - Meadow formed by Beavers - Struggle through Thickets - The Party dressed in Leather - Rifle practice at Pigeons and "Partridges" - The Spotted Grouse - First Sight of the Mountains - An Iroquois Family - "Muskegs" and narrow Tracks - Difficulties - Fatigues - Disturbance of a Wasp's Nest - Roast Skunk - Gastronomic Details excusable - Immense Firs and Poplars - The River McLeod - Wife of Pierre the Iroquois - Her pied Mare: it's Bells - Sheep Pemmican - Sunlight on a burnt Pine-forest - Through Woodsand Bogs - Glimpse of two Mountain Peaks - La Riviere d'Embarras - "Whisky" and Water - Sancho Panza of Dogs - Full view of the Rocky Mountains - Antoine's Enthusiasm - Gun-covers - Iroquois Hunters and their Horses - Illness of Pierre's Baby: successful Doctoring - Indian Ideas of the Aurora - Horse-dealing - "Jasper" - "Moutonne" - Poor" Creme" - Part from Pierre" - "Jasper's" Merits - Cross the Embarras thirty-seven times - The McLeod Valley - Assiniboine Campsites - Horses among fallen Timber - Separate Campfires begun - The Red River Men: their general goodness of Conduct

August 11th. - It was late in the afternoon before we got away from Edmonton, and we had only accomplished five miles when our camping time arrived. "We halted by the side of a small lake. The night was beautifully clear and starry, with an aurora glancing in the skies; I was glad to be once more under canvas, amidst the odours and sights and sounds of free nature. The grass was glittering with dew; it grew rank and high, but luxuriant as it was, no mosquitoes were harbouring in it. Some touch of frost had doubtless annihilated them, for the extreme sharpness of the air as night wore on, showed only too plainly that summer was gone by, and that even the sunniest days would now be followed by hard and bitter nights.

August 18th. - There was pleasant travelling today, through a pretty country, - wooded for the most part, except where a great fire had done its work of destruction, leaving only the timber growing in the deeper hollows. Firs now appeared plentifully in the forest, and the trees were altogether larger than any we had lately met with. Towards afternoon we entered a very hilly district, studded with numerous small lakes, and covered with the richest grass; we rode on till dusk and finally camped at a place about ten miles distant from the mission settlement of Lake St. Ann.


Henry John Moberly.
Henry John Moberly.

August 19th. - When not far from St. Ann we were met by Mr. Moberly, of the Company's service, who was returning from Jasper's House, where he had till lately been officer in charge. He obligingly halted with us for an hour or two, while I wrote some letters to go with his party. His account of the post he had so recently quit was very far from encouraging - no game in the neighbourhood; the people starving and making haste to leave the desolated place. He advised me not to waste time by going to Jasper's House, but to track up the McLeod river, which would bring me sooner to the mountains, and save me a perfectly useless round. The highest peaks, he informed me, rose near the point at which I should in that case enter; and southwards from thence to the head of the South Saskatchewan, there extended about a ten days march of country, which, as he believed, no European had ever seen (one half-breed hunter, perhaps, had long ago been there, but it was very doubtful), where bears and wild sheep were certain to be abundant. Should we meet a hunter named Paulette, as would probably happen, he strongly advised me to engage him. If I made this journey, however, it would be impossible to get back to Carlton before the end of October.

Be it so! said I. On our arrival at St. Ann, we proceeded to the mission - house, where we met with a most cordial reception. 'Had the pleasure of dining with Peres Lacombe and Le Frain at the Roman Catholic mission house - agreeable men and perfect gentlemen. "What an advantage Rome has in this respect - Protestants constantly send vulgar, underbred folk to supply their missions, Rome sends polished, highly-educated gentlemen. Then how much the best is her mode of addressing the Indian mind - for example, every Indian who joins the Mission Temperance Society is given a handsome model to wear.' [This appeals to their pride or vanity, and is far more effectual than mere dry exhortations.] The pressing invitation of my land hosts I remained for the night at the mission-house.


Mission at St. Ann.
Mission House at St. Ann.

Pere Lacombe.
Pere Lacombe.

'Everything there is wonderfully neat and flourishing, it is a true oasis in the desert. The cows are fat and fine, the horses the same, the dogs, the very cats, the same. A well-arranged and well-kept garden, gay with many flowers - [some of them the commonest flowers of in the woods and plains, brought to perfection by care and labour]. The house is beautifully clean; the meals are served in a gentleman's dining room. Excellent preserves of serviceberries and wild raspberries - everything made use of and turned to account.

'Surrounded by such comfort and refinement, and in my society of such agreeable entertainers, I passed a most pleasant evening, one that often recalled itself to my memory amidst the experiences of later times.

The rooms were decorated with religious prints, and there was likewise a good library of books of a similar character. In my bedroom were several of the latter, which I looked through with interest, among them, however, was one that it surprised me to find in such honourable company - a cheap Dublin publication called The Life of the Virgin Mary, a pamphlet, 'full of falsehoods as gravely told and reasoned on as any chapter in Baron Munchausen's travels.' [Such childish fables, though possibly attractive to simple-minded people in other lands, seemed to me ill-adapted to impress the Indians, who are not wanting in shrewdness, and whose own supernaturalism is of a grave and somber character. But the success of the mission convinces one that this foolish book could not have been in general use, whatever accident had brought it all the way from Ireland.]'

Lake St. Ann is a sheet of water about seven miles long. The Indians call it Great Spirit Lake; it is also known by the name of God's Lake.' [It was sometimes designated Manito Lake, which merely means Spirit Lake, a prefix being required to denote whether a good or an evil spirit is intended.]

August 20th. - Much as I liked St. Ann I should not have stayed there so long, time is precious, but for the hope of buying a few more horses. There was one black cob in particular that I greatly fancied, but I found he was not to be thought of, having been given to the missionaries as a token of gratitude by an Indian who had met with some remarkable kindness at their hands. Pere Lacombe, however, anxious to oblige me, though the mission itself was not over well supplied, brought me two very good horses this morning, - one of them a fine strong cendre, the other a useful bay, - which I bought for £19 apiece; at the same time I purchased a bag of excellent pemmican. I also bought from M. Andre Cardinal, for £20, a large brown horse that went by the name of "Brun Farouche" ' I felt quite sorry to leave St. Ann, all was so kind and pleasant at the Mission. The good fathers loaded us with provisions - fish, potatoes, dried meat, etc. God bless them and prosper their mission!

'It was about 11 o'clock when we set out; we dined at Sturgeon Creek, and halted for the night on the shore of Lac des Isles, a narrow lake about twelve miles long, with many low wooded islands. 'The whole of the day our road was extremely bad, running through dense woods, chiefly of poplar brush with a few firs, and often through deep morasses filled with fallen timber. It was one incessant struggle. There was no longer a road wide enough for carts, only a narrow foot track, and the horses had to force their way through the brush, which tore everything to pieces. One's gun had to be carried under the arm instead of across the saddle, which was very tiring at first, especially with a strong double-barrelled rifle like mine. I rode the Pitt Bichon after dinner. He is not good in mire, and rolled over on his side in one deep place, after sticking on the concealed trunk of a sunken tree.'The day had been fine and sunny, it was succeeded by a brilliant starlit night. As I stood at my tent door a little after midnight, I beheld in the heavens before me the magnificent Orion group, and Aldebaran with his kindred stars, constellations I had not looked on for many a week; but the beautiful luminary Spica Virginias was no longer visible.

Sunday, August 21st. - Our camping ground was bad, so we marched a few miles along a better road than yesterday's, and halted when we came to a sort of prairie on a hill at the end of the Lac des Isles.

August 22nd. - Matheson was taken ill in the night, and continued in a good deal of suffering. I prescribed some simple remedies from my medicine store, and by evening he was nearly well again.

Soon after starting we crossed Pembina river, a shallow stream about sixty yards wide, flowing in a rapid current over a bed of stones and gravel. The banks were very pretty; not monotonous, but broken and varied like those of a highland river. Not more than half a mile of its course could be seen from our crossing place; below us, it wound out of sight, between high steep banks with rocks breaking through the soil and trees scattered here and there; upstream, the shores were lower and less rugged, but, immediately above us, the right- hand bank was perfectly bare of wood, and shaped itself into a high terrace of almost artificial appearance, carpeted all over with short and mossy turf.

Our dinner halt was beside Buffalo Creek, a flat-shored, stony-bedded stream, smaller and less rapid than the Pembina quantity of trees, long ago cut down by beavers, lay scattered about the place, and when we camped at sunset we saw more of their work, for our tents were pitched on a meadow of the richest pasturage, which had once been the bed of a lake formed by these curious animals in days gone by. The dams were almost entire, and very easily traceable, though quite overgrown with grass and herbage.

The country, all that day, was tolerably dry, though nicely covered with wood, and flat for the most part, except at the descents into river valleys; the track was better than it sometimes had been, but we had hard fighting to get through the brush, which was chiefly poplar intermixed with young firs, with a few larger ones here and there.

No woollen clothes, but the stoutest, can stand against these horrible thickets, full of sharp ends of broken branches of dead fir trees concealed among the unyielding foliage of the young poplars. Fortunately, I had clad myself in Mr. Hardisty's present - the leather hunting shirt, which was very comfortable, as well as a complete protection against the hardened spikes that met one at every turn. All the men had come out in leather since we entered the wood country, and looked infinitely more picturesque and sportsmanlike than when dressed in their blue cloth capots. Some of them had mounted little blue caps, covered with streamers of ribbon of different colours, - after the gay fashion of Saskatchewan - land, where taste seems freer to indulge its fancies than in the graver regions of Fort Garry.

No traces of large game had yet appeared, but there were vast numbers of ducks; Munroe and Antoine, who had walked on in advance, brought in ten couple of them, and could easily have shot more. We also saw a good many pigeons, one of which I shot with my rifle. They were plump, compact little birds, and made delicious eating.

August 23d. - The country continued much the same, but, for the first time, a few larches showed themselves. Not a tree of any size was visible; one everywhere beheld the ruins of burnt pines, amidst hosts of poplars and young seedlings, chiefly of the Black American and Scotch Fir varieties, already nearly filling up the vacant ground. Today we were constantly among alder brush and had much trouble and difficulty in getting through it. One of the horses belonging to the Company's lot strayed from the others, and though Mackay followed it a long way into the thickets he finally lost its track, and we never heard of it again. [When this happens, a horse is sometimes recovered long afterwards; but it more often perishes, especially if it has strayed towards the winter time, and at any rate, it seldom comes back to the rightful owner.]

After dinner I rode forward with Andre Cardinal (who was accompanying us for part of the journey), and made some good rifle practice at birds on the trees near the trackside, shooting, through the neck or head, one "partridge," - or rather grouse, of the sort that perches in trees, and tastes of fir-tops,* and two pigeons, the latter at forty and seventy yards. Our camp for the night was formed beside Buffalo Creek, which we had crossed the previous day, and now re-crossed. There was a glimpse of the outskirts of the mountains in the direction of the Athabasca, but it was a dim and far-off view, many a long mile having to be accomplished ere we could traverse the intervening space.

August 24th. - There were distant thunderstorms and threats of rain all night, but the weather kept fair

*Tetrao Canadensis. The Spotted Grouse. Wood, or Spruce, or Swamp Partridge - Hudson's Bay Residents. Mistic-apeetheyoo, or Eithinyoo-apeethe-yoo - Crees. Le Perdrix du savanne - French Canadians. Richardson, - Faun. Bor.-Am., vol. ii. p. 346.

though very cold, and after dawn, the sun came out brilliantly. Two more of the horses chose to wander, but they were recovered without much trouble, and then we began a very hard and toilsome march, plunging through bogs - which, in Cree fashion, we commonly called "Muskegs" - and forcing a passage through brush and thickets of young pine. Our track, fortunately, kept pretty level, though the country was inclined to hilliness. In the day we crossed the forks of a tributary of the McLeod, - two streams known as Les Deux Rivieres, clear mountain rivulets running swiftly over thin beds of gravel, - and about 5 P.M. we came to another stream, named Thick Brush Creek, where we found a Jasper's House Iroquois camping with his family, consisting of his wife, two children, and a servant girl.


Jasper's House - Paul Kane Painting 1847.
Jasper's House - Paul Kane Painting, 1847.

As it was then too late to go on to the McLeod River, the road being bad and destitute of the camping ground, we determined to halt where we were; accordingly, we pitched our tents not far from the place chosen by our new friends. This had been a most fatiguing day. In many parts, the track was barely wide enough for a loaded animal to pass between the trees, and it was generally so soft and deep, from the effects of former traffic on such wet and sponge-like soil, that the horses were forever trying to escape from the treacherous boggy ditch in which they found themselves. Leaping to one or other side of the trench, they endeavoured to make their way along the firmer margin; but there was seldom much room there, so after a struggle that displaced or scattered their packs, down they inevitably plunged, and continued their floundering in the mire. In riding it was the same thing; no power or skill could keep one's horse on the narrow, slimy track. So at least I found it, and by the end of the day, my knees were one mass of bruises. From cannoning off the fir stems, when Rowland made sudden dashes for the bank or attempted to rush into some opening where the trees grew wide enough apart to allow a passage for himself, though none for his rider's limbs. My arms were worn out from carrying the rifle, without support, during such long-continued exertions.

'Quite exhausted .... tired, we are making and disgusted at the small progress Thank God, however, I am in good health, and cannot remember having yet yielded to fatigue or allowed anything but reason or sport to prevent me from pressing forward. If ever I get home I shall know how to appreciate comfort. Still, health is better than comfort.

'That evening I read with particular pleasure some articles in the North British Review, of which I had lately got a few numbers at one of the forts. [I believe intellectual reading, in moderation, to be a rest for the body after hard labour: it seems to act as a counter-irritant, drawing off fatigue from the muscles to the brain.] While passing through a sandy place, where the fir-tree roots ran near to the surface of the ground, Matheson's horse happened to disturb a wasp's nest; - then such a scene began! Frantic with terror, the horses rushed hither and thither; Wawbee, maddest of all, galloped wildly up and down, lashing out at the enraged insects. Poor Matheson, in desperation, sprung from his uneasy saddle, but, lighting on a sharp-pointed stump, slipped, and rolled under his horse's feet, - the animal instantly set to to kick at its fallen rider, fortunately never striking his head, though missing so narrowly as to graze one of his cheeks. We were laughing too much to help him, but he soon escaped, and we all got off without visible damage, though several of the horses must have been badly stung.

Cardinal, while out shooting alone, killed a skunk, and I brought it into camp that evening, roasting whole over the Iroquois' fire, looking hideous, robbed of its skin and ears, and shorn of the bushy tail which in life had added something to its beauty.

August 20th. - As a matter of curiosity I had a hind leg of the skunk for breakfast.* It tasted like suckling-pig; very white, soft, and fat, but there was a suspicion of skunkiness about it that prevented me from finishing the plateful.


Skunk Roast.
Skunk Roasting.

Afterwards saw us resuming our march the road was bad for a while, and then came a great stretch of really fine old forest, consisting of spruce firs and a few immense poplars. The largest trees were not above eight or ten feet round, I should think, but all were from 150 to 200 feet high, or more.

'Shot three "partridges," with my rifle, at thirty, ten, and fifteen yards, hitting all of them in the neck, as I intended. "We crossed the M'Leod River, after which I bathed and dined. It is a stream from 100 to 150 yards wide hereabouts; for the most part shallow and rapid, with a gravelly bed but muddy banks, the mud of a lightish brown, as in all these rivers. The banks, wooded to the water's edge, are rather low, though in some places rising to a greater elevation.


* See extract from Hearne, p. 136, ante.

*Let me here, once and for all, deprecate censure from fastidious readers, regarding the minuteness of my gastronomic details. No question is more frequently asked of the traveller, than - What is such and such a beast, bird, or fish fit for as an article of food? Being able, through my careful note-keeping, to meet, in some degree, the general wish for this sort of information, ought I - 0 considerate critic! - to deprive the many of a boon, out of deference to the probable or possible objections of the few?


'The Iroquois and his family are travelling with us. His wife is a good-looking, clear-skinned, black-haired, French half-breed, too flat in her proportions like all her race. Her dress is of dark blue cloth. She and the girl ride astride, of course, but quite modestly, wrapping up their legs in the shawls in which they carry the little children.

'The wife rides a very pretty grey-and-white pied mare, with two bells round its neck, which make a pleasant rural sound; these are not mere ornaments but are meant to scare away wolves, and very generally do so. Mares are seldom or never ridden in this country, except by women. There are more geldings than stallions, though the latter are far from uncommon.'

After dinner we crossed the Wolf River, a moderate-sized, rapid stream running into the McLeod; and subsequently, the road, which led us up the course of the latter stream, ran mostly through a wood of some age, and was here and there intersected by very steeply-banked gullies.

A thunderstorm came on, and gave us a wetting before we reached our camping ground at a place called Brazeau's Cache; the storm then settled into steady rain, which continued for most of the night.

Woooden Spur.
Wooden Spur.

Our party at supper was increased by two of the Jasper's House men, whom we met on their way to the settlements, they turned back, however, and camped with us. One of them wore a wooden spur of the most primitive construction, - merely a piece of fir pointed at one end, and hollowed at (the other to receive the heel, to which it was tied by two thin strips of leather. I got some "sheep" pemmican from these hunters, and thought it very good, - rather sweeter, and perhaps a little richer, than the common buffalo pemmican; it was entirely made from the dried flesh of the wild mountain sheep. The Iroquois family still accompanied us. - 'It sounds curious at night to hear a baby crying, so far away in the heart of the wilderness.'

August 26th. - Made a late start, - to give the bushes time to dry after the heavy rain, wet being most damaging to saddle bags and all other leather articles. 'Very feverish all this morning, but two cups of tea at dinner did me a great deal of good. Tea is a wonderful restorative - when taken as by us, without milk, and with no spirituous liquors in our systems.

'Our march all day was up the McLeod River. For nearly the whole distance the banks were very high, and covered with tolerably large pines; here and there were precipitous faces of rock and clay. Towards evening we crossed a rapid stream flowing into the larger river, which made a sudden bend at that place. As we moved round the curve along the water edge, the setting sun poured floods of light on the russet brown masses of scorched pines, on the one side, while, on the other, the darkly-green young spruces looked black in shadow.

'Just before, I had been struck with admiration at the sombre loveliness caused by the streaming of the sun's rays through a great stretch of burnt pine forest All the tall trees were standing up like jet-black masts, and the glorious light gleamed like silver on the quivering surface of the river, gilded the sable stems wherever it touched them, and played in dancing spots over the long grass, and on the low under- growth of poplars - destined in years to fill the place of the for-ever blighted wood. I wish some painter had been there, to paint what I so vainly attempt to describe. Never have I seen such an effect represented in art - withered and dead trees often, but not these scorched, charred, and blackened stems.

'Soon after leaving this beautiful scene, we camped on an opening a few acres in size - here regarded as an extensive plain. The mountains ought now to have been in view, but there was a mist over them, and they were entirely hidden.

August 27th. - A long hard march this morning, one of the most toilsome we had yet had. It rained more or less the whole time, and the wind was cold; the road ran mostly through deep wet bogs, full of small fir trees. My knees and legs were severely bruised by awkward Rowland's dashes among the trees; in one place he got mired, and I had to jump off and wade through depths of moss. The road was perpetually crossing ravines, up and down the steepest hills, - I wondered if the horses could climb them.

One solitary gleam of consolation enlivened this weary day - an unexpected, far-distant view of two grand peaks of the Rocky Mountains, over which a thundercloud cast a solemn, leaden shade. It was but an imperfect view, but so marvellous was the contrast between the damp, confined darkness of our track through the dripping fir trees, and the sudden freedom of an open sky bounded only by magnificent mountain forms, that for a moment I was quite overwhelmed. Then one of those strange tides of emotion that transcend both control and analysis rushed through me from head to foot, - I trembled all over, - my limbs lost their strength, and I could hardly sit on my horse. He, poor beast, did not share in his rider's excitement - as in a momentary fancy I thought he would, - and seemed no happier than before; but, for my part, all weariness vanished away, and I felt myself ready for any labours that might bring me nearer to so splendid a goal.

In the course of the morning, we made our second crossing of the McLeod, and not long afterwards we crossed one of its tributaries, a stream about half its size, called the Riviere d 'Embarras, or Lying-wood River, whose banks in this vicinity were broken by steep, low rocks, resembling in character those ever in his passage through the shallow stream, half wading half swimming, with at Guy's Cliff near "Warwick. Whisky looked funnier than ever his fat sides bent into an arch by the weight of the impetuous current; and his odd little stump of a tail up-pointed to the skies, flirting bright water about like a sea- god's shell in a fountain. [Poor Whisky filled the place of the ancient domestic jester; one look at him dispelled melancholy; every movement he made was a farce. With his cunningly timorous countenance and sleekly rounded plebeian body, he was a true Sancho Panza of dogs. He was a daily delight: I would not have exchanged him for the best dog in the Company's territories.] It was a good deal past our usual dinner time when we halted near a small camp of half-breed hunters, who hospitably presented us with some wild raspberries they had just been gathering.


Whiskey.
Whiskey the Dog.

'The clouds blew off, and the day became sunny and very pleasant. I rode forward as usual with old Antoine, and presently, arriving at the brow of a hill that overhangs the Embarras, a glorious sight opened upon my view - the Rocky Mountain range, stretching along the horizon far as the eye could reach. Below us rolled the river among dark pines; hills, also covered with pines some black and scorched with fire, some green and flourishing, - filled up the prospect for many miles; then came flat bare eminences, the footstools of the loftier range, and then uprose the mountains themselves, rugged in form, peaked and tabled, and scored with gashes, - not magnified hills, but rocks in the very archetype. Too remote to display any smaller modulations, they rose flat against the blue sky, themselves all steeped in a soft mellow grey from summit to base; but in certain ravines, and on some of the high shoulders of the greater peaks, spots and masses of snow glittered in the sun, or looked cold as death where no rays were able to reach them.

'With feelings almost too deep for utterance, I turned to Antoine, hoping to find in him some sympathetic response. His eyes gleamed and sparkled as they met mine; with a pleasant smile he pointed first to the nearer hills, then to the grand range that stretched far away beyond: "Monsieur Milord," said he, with impressive earnestness, "il n'y a pas des moutons ici - mais la has - ah!!"




Rockies from Embarrass River.
Rockies from the Embarrass River.

'Taking a rough piece of paper from my pocket, I made a hasty sketch of the principal peaks, after which we rejoined the men, and then all descended to the Embarras and crossed it again. From this, half an hour's riding brought us to a glade where three or four Iroquois and half-breed hunters were encamped with their families, and there we halted, in the hope of getting horses and other things that were required. Tents being pitched, I walked a mile or two, expecting to see the mountains again from a different point, but owing to the nature of the ground I could only discern the tops of a few lofty peaks. 'Moose at supper: excellent though rather tough; the fat delicious. How one longs for a good larder and an educated cook!'

Sunday, August 28th. - The night was intensely cold; hoar frost covered all the ground, and some water in a basin was frozen nearly half-an-inch thick; but the heat became too great after the sun got fairly up, and poured down his powerful rays into the sheltered valley. At dinner, I was presented with another new dish, in the form of the last joints of a beaver's backbone. - 'Exquisite: tender white lean, melting fat, like sucking-pig but better, without the least over-richness of taste, and free from the painful suspicions which interfere with the enjoyment of roast skunk.' I afterwards rode to the point when my previous sketch of the mountain had been taken and made a more careful drawing of the same subject. There was a haze over the mountains themselves, though the sky was cloudless elsewhere; the obscurity, however, being only partial, I got in their general features pretty accurately, notwithstanding the bad quality of the materials I had to work with.

'The wife of one of the hunters has made me a gun cover of moose leather, ornamented with fringes and narrow braiding's of red and black cloth, after the picturesque fashion of the country. '[It was the custom to keep one's gun covered, except when wanted for immediate use. This protected it from bad weather and kept it from injury when carried across the saddle. My Fort Garry cover was merely of buffalo skin, which, being little better than wash-leather, was neither strong enough for mountain work, nor thick enough in continuous rain. Duncan and Toma, who carried my smooth bores after we left the carts behind us, had only common waterproof covers, but the stuff gradually wore into holes, and the guns suffered a little from want of protection.]

'These hunters are fine-looking men; dressed either in the usually fringed leather hunting-shirts or in blue cloth capots. Their caps are of blue cloth, small, with a leather shade, and covered with streamers of ribbon, chiefly black, blue, and red.

'They have large herds of excellent horses - ponies we should call them at home, - among them several stallions. One pretty brown pony passed us, carrying a little girl five or six years old, who was riding quite alone. Near one of the tents, I saw two girls, of much the same age, cleaning a beaver skin with a bone, while two others were cutting up fat with great knives. Think of that, A - and C -!

'The baby of our fellow traveller Pierre, the Iroquois, was taken ill at night, and the father, in great anxiety, sent John McKay to ask me to come and give it medicine. I went immediately to see the little patient. Its mother sat crying at the tent door in front of a wretched fire, holding the child nearly naked on her lap, and her husband leant over her with miserable looks, and eyes all full of tears. An old woman crouched near them in silence.

I felt very sorry for them and hoped that Heaven would enable me to do their child some good. It seemed probable it had got a chill in the frosty nights we had lately been having; for it was dry and feverish, and inclined to sickness, though there was no diarrhea; and I began to consider how one might best help nature while soothing the parents by some show of active measures. I dared not give medicine, knowing that pills and powders fit for men might kill a ten-month baby, - fearing, besides, lest if the child died I should be held by these untaught people the cause of its death, according to a prevalent Indian fancy.

After a moment's thought I put on an air of decision and desired that the fire should be made as large as possible, and the poor naked child very closely wrapped up in several shawls and blankets. These orders were obeyed with some signs of reviving cheerfulness, and Mackay presently returned from our camp bringing a pot of weak tea, which I had sent him to get ready.

I then directed the mother to hold her baby close to the fire and pour tea down its throat, as much as it could be made to swallow. With perfect confidence in my skill, she took a spoon and began the feeding process, which so greatly disgusted the child, that it struggled and screamed, and rejected the tea, till, between its efforts and the heat of the blazing logs, a little moisture began to appear. Telling them to keep the baby warm, as they valued its life, I left them and returned to my tent, and the next morning had the happiness of hearing that the treatment had been a complete success.

'After nightfall, there was a most beautiful aurora; sometimes like a tent, with streams proceeding earthwards in every direction from a fixed central point, sometimes like a very grand arch stretching from east to west through Arcturus, Vega, Cygnus, and the neighbouring stars. Then it became a mass of glowing red, spreading over the eastern side of the heavens, and gradually passing to the south. Old Antoine said that he had never seen an aurora in the south before. The Indians believe these lights to be the spirits of men dancing in the sky.'

August 29th. - This morning was occupied in buying and exchanging horses. We bartered a Sharp's rifle belonging to Mackay for a strong three-year-old black horse, and exchanged La Framboise, who was nearly done out, for a good skewbald; we also gave £12, with a Company's horse, which was temporarily lame and unable to go on, to one of the hunters, named Eneas Oneanti, in exchange for a very handsome stallion, black, flecked with grey, and with a few small spots of white. Half his face, his nose, and his legs were also white. This pony stood about fourteen hands high; he was seven years old, and a perfect model of strength and compactness. They called him "Coifesse," which was said to mean "spotted thigh," but disliking this ugly word I named him "Jasper," as he belonged to the Jasper's House district. When first I saw him he was wandering with a herd of very handsome little mares, about twenty of them roaming freely together in the glades of the beautiful pine forest.

'From Oneanti we also got a fine old white mare named "Moutonne," in exchange for Bleu. She is twenty years old, - but that counts for nothing here, and she is as fresh and active as a filly. Her right haunch shows a terrible scar, large and deep enough to hold both one's hands, made by the wolves when she was young.

'When these arrangements were finished we set out, but before we had gone far, Eneas came riding up to complain of the bargain about the mare, as he found Bleu a less good riding horse than he had supposed. He wanted the little cream colour instead. 'After explaining to him that I felt no way bound to yield anything, especially as he had proposed the exchange, I told him that I would let him have the horse he wanted - which he knew all about - rather than leave him dissatisfied with my dealings. He hesitated a little, then jumped off Bleu and changed the saddle to the other. Poor Creme looked meek and sorrowful, and his eyes appeared (as I have seen a wounded doe's) all suffused with tears. He is a soft, weak-spirited little horse, "with, beauty and gentleness for his only - merits. As he seemed ill, he had been spared as much as possible since we left St. Ann. Poor fellow! he seemed to have sad forebodings of rough treatment and hard work in store, and looked so piteously that I felt quite unhappy. However, there is little scope for sentiment when travelling through these wildernesses: horses must be got, and if the bad ones cannot be exchanged they must go on till they drop, - such is the law of the position.

'The Iroquois and his pretty wife were still following us, though moving at a slower pace, and it was proposed to make an early halt, evidently to let them come up. I was told that this was the last open spot, that then came a bad muskeg, etc., but after cross-questioning McKay and Antoine I determined to proceed, not finding it satisfactory to travel with other people, for, as in the present case, it tended to shorten the marches, and otherwise interfered with my arrangements. Besides, instead of my men sitting all sociably around the fire when we halted at night, some of them had begun to go to their new friends - more especially those who talked Indian, - so that my party was in danger of splitting into sections.

'We marched accordingly; and, as I had guessed, soon passed by several fair camping places, - the muskeg being a very small one, - and, after two hours' work, halted in an excellent place beside the river. During the march I shot three wood-grouse with the rifle, cutting off the heads of two of them.

'We crossed the Embarras ten times. My first ride on Jasper, and found him very quiet, sure-footed, and strong, but lazy. Catching sight of my shooting boots, he could not be happy till he had turned round and touched them with his nose (never having seen anything but moccasins before) after which he paid them no further attention. We picketed him and Moutonne tonight, lest they should try to return to their old quarters.

'Beaver tail for supper - like pork fat sandwiched between layers of Finnan haddock.'

August 30th. - A bitterly cold night; in no way could I manage to shut out the keen frost and keep myself tolerably warm. Our start was early, and by dinner-time, we had crossed the Embarras six times more, it was never deeper, however, than to wet one's foot when riding a fourteen-hand pony. "We passed rapidly through many a glade of fine grass, amidst the masses of young and middle-aged fir-wood, but there were also numerous muskegs to encounter. Jasper was an admirable horse for this work. He cared nothing for muskegs, however deep and bad; even when sinking in a swamp he would take the opportunity to snatch a bite of grass if his nose got near enough to the surface. Greediness was one of his faults. Sometimes, while drawing himself over a log, he would stop halfway, and begin eating a tempting mouthful that happened to lie handy. He was very gentle and quiet; I never knew him fidgety, except once, when a wasp stung him.

We crossed the Embarras no less than thirty-one times after dinner, - thirty-seven times in all during the day, - as we threaded the winding course of the river, going up its deep and narrow valley. The hills on each side were becoming steeper, higher, and more rugged, though still pine-covered to the top. There was a slight thunderstorm, but on the whole, it had been a fine day. We came upon the tracks of a moose, but neither saw the animal itself, nor game of any sort, - except wood-grouse, of which I shot two with the rifle, decapitating one of the pair.

August 31st.- Crossed the Embarras three or four times more, then finally left it, and struck across hills covered with well-grown pines, and valleys obstructed by deep bogs, passing also through several large openings, mostly of a very swampy character. Old camps and other traces of the Assiniboine's were numerous, - which quite accounted for the scarcity of game in the district. We now again came to the McLeod River, - about forty yards wide, shallow and rapid; and parted there from one of the Iroquois (not our old friend Pierre, but a hunter of the same band), who had for the last day or two accompanied us, - our ways diverging, his destination being Jasper's House, while we proceeded upstream by the shortest road to the mountains. We as crossed the McLeod several times, threading its course travelled along the valley. The timber was of considerable growth; there were very good spruces and firs, but they had been spoilt by the Indians, who had more or less barked them to extract the sap.

'Before dinner, I rode Jasper, who sailed like a strong ship through the bogs; in the afternoon, Cendre, - much refreshed by the long rest I have given him.

'This morning's work has been very severe for our horses, the fallen trees on the steep hillsides being so numerous and often so large, that progress was slow and toilsome. It is amusing to watch the different horses going over the great trunks, some jumping, while others creep and scramble. Old Lagrace, as usual, has a way of his own - he stands on the trees and makes his horse leap them by hauling at him with a line. He has decorated his white flannel cap with a strip of scarlet cloth, which presents a most imposing appearance.

'This evening the men started the plan of two separate campfires - for the first time. I disapprove of this arrangement, because it either breaks up the party into sections, or else they all go to one of the fires, which is naturally the farthest from my tent, so that I am left alone, and a stronger line of demarcation is drawn between me and my people. I hope to put things right without much difficulty, by manner rather than words.

'The Saskatchewan men have not added to the workability of the party, though good enough men in themselves. [There was not quite the same orderly and cordial spirit that existed before their arrival.] Last Saturday I had to find fault decidedly, because, to keep up with the free men, McKay hurried over breakfast and started the men before I was ready. He took my reproof admirably and has been doubly attentive ever since. I believe it was a fault of inadvertency.

'[After hesitating whether or not to suppress this and one or two similar entries in my journal, I have determined to leave them: partly, because they seemed so important at the time that their omission would impair the faithfulness of the narrative; partly, because I am glad of opportunities to show that my praises of the excellent fellows who accompanied me are not empty panegyrics, but that I can plainly state all, or nearly all, of the few and trivial instances in which I had reason for dissatisfaction with them, during the many months we travelled together over the prairie and the mountain.]


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