Hudson Bay by Robert Michael Ballantyne (the little red hen ebook TXT) 📕

as comfortable in my new quarters as circumstances would permit.

Tadousac I found to be similar, in many respects, to the forts in the north. The country around was wild, mountainous, and inhabited only by a few Indians and wild animals. There was no society, excepting that of Mr Stone's family; the only other civilised being, above the rank of a labourer, being a gentleman who superintended a timber-cutting and log-sawing establishment, a quarter of a mile from the Company's post.

My _bourgeois_, Mr Stone, was a very kind man and an entertaining companion. He had left Scotland, his native land, when very young, and had ever since been travelling about and dwelling in the wild woods of America. A deep scar on the bridge of his nose showed that he had not passed through these savage countries scathless. The way in which he came by this scar was curious, so I may relate it here.

At one of the solitary forts in the wild regions on the west side of the Rocky Mountains, where my friend Mr Stone dwelt, the Indians were in the habit of selling horses, of which they had a great many, to the servants of the Hudson Bay Company. They had, however, an uncommonly disagreeable propensity to steal these horses again the moment a convenient opportunity presented itself; and to guard against the gratification of this propensity was one of the many difficulties that the fur-traders had to encounter. Upon one occasion a fine horse was sold by an Indian to Mr Stone, the price (probably several yards of cloth and a few pounds of tobacco) paid, and the Indian went away. Not long after the horse was stolen; but as this was an event that often happened, it was soon forgotten. Winter passed away, spring thawed the lakes and rivers, and soon a party of Indians arrived with furs and horses to trade. They were of the Blackfoot tribe, and a wilder set of fellows one would hardly wish to see. Being much in the habit of fighting with the neighbouring tribes, they were quite prepared for battle, and decorated with many of the trophies of war. Scalp-locks hung from the skirts of their leather shirts and leggins, eagles' feathers and beads ornamented their heads, and their faces were painted with stripes of black and red paint.

After conversing with them a short time, they were admitted through the wicket one by one, and their arms taken from them and locked up. This precaution was rendered necessary at these posts, as the Indians used to buy spirits, and often quarrelled with each other; but, having no arms, of course they could do themselves little damage. When about a dozen of them had entered, the gate was shut, and Mr Stone proceeded to trade their furs and examine their horses, when he beheld, to his surprise, the horse that had been stolen from him the summer before; and upon asking to whom it belonged, the same Indian who had formerly sold it to him stood forward and said it was his. Mr Stone (an exceedingly quiet, good-natured man, but, like many men of this stamp, very passionate when roused) no sooner witnessed the fellow's audacity than he seized a gun from one of his men and shot the horse. The Indian instantly sprang upon him, but being a less powerful man than Mr Stone, and, withal, unaccustomed to use his fists, he was soon overcome, and pommelled out of the fort. Not content with this, Mr Stone followed him down to the Indian camp, pommelling him all the way. The instant, however, that the Indian found himself surrounded by his own friends, he faced about, and with a dozen warriors attacked Mr Stone and threw him on the ground, where they kicked and bruised him severely; whilst several boys of the tribe hovered around him with bows and arrows, waiting a favourable opportunity to shoot him. Suddenly a savage came forward with a large stone in his hand, and, standing over his fallen enemy, raised it high in the air and dashed it down upon his face. My friend, when telling me the story, said that he had just time, upon seeing the stone in the act of falling, to commend his spirit to God ere he was rendered insensible. The merciful God, to whom he thus looked for help at the eleventh hour, did not desert him. Several men belonging to the fort, seeing the turn things took, hastily armed themselves, and hurrying out to the rescue, arrived just at the critical moment when the stone was dashed in his face. Though too late to prevent this, they were in time to prevent a repetition of the blow; and after a short scuffle with the Indians, without any blood shed, they succeeded in carrying their master up to the fort, where he soon recovered. The deep cut made by the stone on the bridge of his nose left an indelible scar.

Besides Mr Stone, I had another companion--namely, Mr Jordan, a clerk, who inhabited the same office with me, and slept in the same bedroom, during the whole winter. He was a fine-looking athletic half-breed, who had been partially educated, but had spent much more of his life among Indians than among civilised men. He used to be sent about the country to trade with the natives, and consequently led a much more active life than I did. One part of his business, during the early months of spring, was hunting seals. This was an amusing, though, withal, rather a murderous kind of sport. The manner of it was this:--

My friend Jordan chose a fine day for his excursion, and, embarking in a boat with six or seven men, sailed a few miles down the St. Lawrence, till he came to a low flat point. In a small bay near this he drew up the boat, and then went into the woods with his party, where each man cut a large pole or club. Arming themselves with these, they waited until the tide receded and left the point dry. In a short time one or two seals crawled out of the sea to bask upon the shore; soon several more appeared, and ere long a band of more than a hundred lay sunning themselves upon the beach. The ambuscade now prepared to attack the enemy. Creeping stealthily down as near as possible without being discovered, they simultaneously rushed upon the astonished animals; and the tragic scene of slaughter, mingled with melodramatic and comic incidents, that ensued, baffles all description. In one place might be seen my friend Jordan swinging a huge club round with his powerful arms, and dealing death and destruction at every blow; while in another place a poor weazened-looking Scotchman (who had formerly been a tailor! and to whom the work was new) advanced, with cautious trepidation, towards a huge seal, which spluttered and splashed fearfully in its endeavours to reach the sea, and dealt it a blow on the back. He might as well have hit a rock. The slight rap had only the effect of making the animal show its teeth; at which sight the tailor retreated precipitately, and, striking his heel against a rock, fell backwards into a pool of water, where he rolled over and over--impressed, apparently, with the idea that he was attacked by all the seals in the sea. His next essay, however, was more successful, and in a few minutes he killed several, having learned to hit on the head instead of on the back. In less than a quarter of an hour they killed between twenty and thirty seals, which were stowed in the boat and conveyed to the post.

Nothing worth mentioning took place at Tadousac during my residence there. The winter became severe and stormy, confining us much to the house, and obliging us to lead very humdrum sort of lives. Indeed, the only thing that I can recollect as being at all interesting or amusing-- except, of coarse, the society of my scientific and agreeable friend, Mr Stone, and his amiable family--was a huge barrel-organ, which, like the one that I had found at Oxford House, played a rich variety of psalm tunes, and a choice selection of Scotch reels--the grinding out of which formed the chief solace of my life, until the arrival of an auspicious day when I received sudden orders to prepare for another journey.

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Note 1. It may be well to say that the above description applied to the country only in the summer and autumn months. It is now, we believe, an important summer resort, and a comparatively populous place.


CHAPTER TWELVE.


A JOURNEY ON SNOW-SHOES--EVILS OF SNOW-SHOE TRAVELLING IN SPRING--VALUE OF TEA TO A TIRED MAN--ENCAMP IN THE SNOW--ISLE JEREMIE--CANOEING AND BOATING ON THE GULF OF ST. LAWRENCE--AMATEUR NAVIGATING--SEVEN ISLANDS-- A NARROW ESCAPE--CONCLUSION.

It was on a cold, bleak morning, about the beginning of March 1846, that I awoke from a comfortable snooze in my bedroom at Tadousac, and recollected that in a few hours I must take leave of my present quarters, and travel, on snow-shoes, sixty miles down the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the post of Isle Jeremie.

The wind howled mournfully through the leafless trees, and a few flakes of snow fell upon the window as I looked out upon the cheerless prospect. Winter--cold, biting, frosty winter--still reigned around. The shores of Tadousac Bay were still covered with the same coat of ice that had bound them up four months before; and the broad St. Lawrence still flowed on, black as ink, and laden with immense fields and hummocks of dirty ice, brought down from the banks of the river above. The land presented one uniform chilling prospect of bare trees and deep snow, over which I was soon to traverse many a weary mile.

There is nothing, however, like taking things philosophically; so, after venting my spite at the weather in one or two short grumbles, I sat down in a passable state of equanimity to breakfast. During the meal I discussed with Mr Stone the prospects of the impending journey, and indulged in a few excursive remarks upon snow-shoe travelling, whilst he related a few incidents of his own eventful career in the country.

On one occasion he was sent off upon a long journey over the snow, where the country was so mountainous that snowshoe walking was rendered exceedingly painful, by the feet slipping forward against the front bar of the shoe when descending the hills. After he had accomplished a good part of his journey, two large blisters rose under the nails of his great toes; and soon the nails themselves came off. Still he must go on, or die in the woods; so he was obliged to _tie_ the nails on his toes each morning before starting, for the purpose of protecting the tender parts beneath; and every evening he wrapped them up carefully in a piece of rag, and put them into his waistcoat pocket--_being afraid of losing them if he kept them on all night_.

After breakfast I took leave of my friends at Tadousac, and, with a pair of snow-shoes under my arm, followed my companion Jordan to the boat which was to convey me the first twenty miles of the journey, and then land me, with one man, who was to be my only companion. In the boat was seated a Roman Catholic priest, on his way to visit a party of