On the Indian Trail Part 9

"Oh, but it does belong to you, and I want nothing more for it," he insisted.

"Excuse me," I said, "but you _must_ let me pay you for it. We are very glad to get it, as there is little food in the house; but we have a rule here, that we pay the Indians for everything we get from them."

The reason we had come to this determination, was because we had found by rather dear experience,--as we presume other missionaries on similar fields have,--that the natives have an idea the missionary is rich, or that he is backed up by wealthy churches; and, with unlimited resources at his disposal, is able to make large gifts in return for lesser ones received. A few rabbits, or a brace of ducks would be given with great politeness to the missionary or his wife. Then the donor, often accompanied by his wife and several children, would remain to dinner, and, in all probability, eat the greater part of the gift. Of course they must be asked to supper--and they had glorious appet.i.tes. As they still lingered on until time for retiring arrived, the missionary was at length obliged to hint, that he thought they would better go and see if their wigwam was where they left it in the morning. This would generally bring things to a crisis, and the man would say: "Ever since we came we have only been waiting to get the present you are going to give us for the one we gave you."

While they were contented to sell at a reasonable rate the various things which they could supply for our needs, yet, if a present were accepted, they expected something many times its value. Had this been allowed to continue, we would have been speedily left dest.i.tute of everything in the house. Therefore, not many weeks before the arrival of this strange Indian with the venison, as a precautionary measure we had made a rule that no more presents were to be received from the Indians; but that for everything brought which we needed, such as meat, fish, or moccasins, there was to be a fair tariff price mutually agreed upon. Yet in spite of all this, here was a stalwart Indian insisting, that I should receive a haunch of venison without payment. Judging from some past experiences, I was fearful that if I accepted it as a present, it would about bankrupt me. So I again said to him:

"You must let me pay you for this."

"No, no," he energetically replied. "I take no pay. It belongs to you."

"How do you make that out?" I inquired, more perplexed than ever.

Then he proceeded to give me his explanation, which deeply interested me, and which will also I am sure interest my readers.

First, he began by asking me a few questions:

"Did you make a trip with your guide and dog drivers to Burntwood River last winter?"

"Yes, I did," was my answer.

"And were your dog-sleds not heavily loaded?"

"Yes," I replied.

"And was there not a heavy fall of snow followed by a blizzard, which as you had no trail through the deep snow, made it very difficult travelling?"

"Quite true," I replied, for all had happened just as he was describing it. "And did you not at a certain place make a cache of some of your pemmican and other heavy things, so as to lighten your loads, that your dogs might make better time?"

"Yes," I answered, for well did I remember that long journey, and the fearful storm which made travelling through the trackless forest almost impossible.

I had gone on a journey of several hundreds of miles to carry the Gospel to some Indians who were still in the darkness of paganism. I travelled with sixteen dogs and four Indian companions, and there was not the least vestige of a road. This is the one great drawback; and any party of hunters, traders, or missionaries, wis.h.i.+ng to travel with any rapidity, must send one of their number on ahead of the dog trains to mark out the path with his great snow shoes as he strides along. The skill and endurance with which this work is performed, is marvellous and almost incredible to those who have not witnessed it. Often the country for days together is tamely monotonous, without any striking feature in the landscape, and without the least sign of human footsteps. Clouds may gather and cover the whole heavens with a sombre grey mantle, so that the white man gets bewildered and does not know south from north, or east from west. Yet the Indian guide pushes on without hesitancy, and with unerring accuracy.

While endeavouring to push on as rapidly as possible, we were a.s.sailed by a fierce storm. The snowfall was so great, that, with our heavy loads, speedy progress was an utter impossibility. We found, that we must either lighten our loads, or be content to lose much valuable time on the way. After talking it over with my Indians, we decided on the former course, and so, a "cache" was made. A number of the heavier articles were tied up in large blankets, some saplings bent down by the stalwart men, and the bundles fastened in their tops. When let go, the young trees sprang up, and thus held their loads so far above the ground that they were safe from the prowling wolves or wolverines. This plan is very much safer than that of using large trees, as up the latter many of the wild animals can climb, and short work would be made of the "cache."

With lightened sleds--although some of the things left behind were sadly missed--we hurried on, and after a few days reached our destination. We found the majority of the Indians glad to see us, and anxious for instruction in the ways of the great Book. They had become dissatisfied with the ways of their fathers, and had lost all faith in their conjurers, so they listened with great attention to what we had to tell of the Gospel of the Son of G.o.d.

While we were thus engaged in our missionary duties, blizzards were raging through that cold northland; so that when we began the long home journey, we discovered but few traces of the trail, which our snow shoes and dog-trains had made not very long before. However, my guide was very clever, and my splendid dogs most sagacious, so we travelled home most of the way on the same route, even though the original path was deeply buried by the snow.

The place where our cache had been made was duly reached; and glad enough were we to obtain the additional supplies it contained, for we had been on short allowance for some time. The strong arms of my Indians soon bent down the saplings, untied the bundles and consigned them to the different dog-sleds. To my surprise, I observed, that at one of the bundles--the heaviest article in which had been a piece of pemmican weighing perhaps fifty or sixty pounds--my men were talking and gesticulating most earnestly. In answer to my inquiries, they said, that that bundle had been taken down during our absence, and a piece of pemmican had been cut off and taken away.

"Nonsense!" I replied. "You are surely mistaken. It looks to me just as it was when we put it up. And then there was not the vestige of a track here when we returned."

However, in spite of my protestations, my men were confident that some pemmican had been taken by a stranger, and that the blizzard had covered up the tracks. With a little more discussion the matter was dropped, and after a good meal we proceeded on our way.

Months later, along came this strange Indian with the venison and his story, which we will now let him finish:

"I was out hunting in those forests through which you pa.s.sed: for they are my hunting grounds. I found the trail of a moose, and for a long time I followed it up, but did not succeed in getting a shot. I had poor success on that hunting trip. Shooting nothing for some days, I became very hungry. While pus.h.i.+ng along through the woods, I came across your trail and saw your cache. So when I saw it was the missionary's cache, the friend of the Indian, I was glad, and I said to myself. If he were here, and knew that I was hungry, he would say: 'Help yourself:'--and that was just what I did. I pulled down a sapling, and opening the bundle, cut off a piece of pemmican--just enough to make me feel comfortable under my belt until I could reach my wigwam, far away. Then I tied up the bundle, fastened it in the treetop, and let it swing up again. And now I have brought you this venison, to pay for that pemmican which I took."

Honest man! He had carried the haunch of venison on his back, a distance of about sixty miles.

Of course I was delighted, and while complimenting him for his honesty, inquired how he knew that it was my party that had made the cache, rather than a party of Indian hunters.

Without any hesitancy he replied: "Oh I saw your snow shoe tracks in the snow."

"Impossible!" I answered; "for the snow shoes used by the whole party were made by Sandy, my Indian boy, and were all of one pattern."

"That no matter," he answered, while his eyes twinkled with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Snow shoes all right, but I saw your tracks all the time. When Indian walk, he walk with toes in; when white man walk, he walk with toes out.

So I saw where the missionary make tracks all the time."

We all voted him a clever, as well as an honest Indian, and rejoiced that under the faithful teachings of another missionary, this red Indian of the forest, had been so grounded in the lessons of the sermon on the mount.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE VINDICATION OF THE SABBATH.

When the missionaries go among the heathen preaching the blessed Gospel of the great Book, they necessarily have to begin, with first principles. When good impressions have been made, and hearts touched, then follows religious instruction in matters of which they have been perfectly ignorant! and much that is false, and often very childish, has to be unlearned.

To these people, before the arrival of the missionary, the Sabbath was utterly unknown. The preaching of it at first filled them with perplexity and trouble. They thought that it would interfere with their plans, and so break up their hunting arrangements as to bring them to absolute want. They were poor, even though working and fis.h.i.+ng every day; and to give up one day out of every seven, and not fire a gun, or set a net--what would become of them! Thus argued some of the Indians.

Faithfully and lovingly the missionaries set before them the commands of G.o.d adding the promises of blessings to the obedient. The Book itself was diligently searched, and there was a great desire to know, if such pa.s.sages as the one we here quote referred to white people and Indians now: "If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day, and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable: and shalt honour him not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words, then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord, and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it."

At last, under faithful teaching, aided by the blessed Spirit, the Christian Indians resolved to take the Book for their guide, and to keep the Sabbath day. At once, the guns and bows and arrows were put aside, and the fish-nets were left hanging in the breeze for that day. No traps were visited, neither were the axes lifted up against the trees.

Their simple meals were cooked and eaten, and all who could attend, were found in the house of G.o.d three times each Sabbath.

But now arose fierce opposition from an unexpected quarter. The great fur-trading company that had for so long a time held despotic power in the land, in their short-sightedness,--fearing a diminution in the returns of the fur by the hunters if one-seventh of the time was to be, as they put it, spent in idleness,--sneered at the actions of the missionaries, and by bribes and threats, endeavoured to induce the Indians to ignore their teachings on the subject.

When, the summer tripping began, and the Indians refused to travel or work in the boats on the Sabbath, the action of the company developed into downright persecution. Some description of this "tripping" in that great wild northland is necessary, in order that our readers may understand the position taken by the Sabbath-keeping Indians, and its most satisfactory results.

So remote from the seaboard are some of the interior posts of the Hudson Bay Company, that seven years, and sometimes more elapsed, ere the furs obtained for the goods sent, could reach the London market. The bales of goods were first s.h.i.+pped by the company's vessels to York factory, on the Hudson Bay. Then they were taken by the Indian trippers in strong boats that would hold from three to five tons. A number of these boats const.i.tuted a "brigade." A captain of the whole was appointed, and a good state of discipline maintained.

The first brigade would take the bales up the rivers, often having to pa.s.s many dangerous places and encounter many risks. Great care and watchfulness were necessary, and yet in spite of all, boats were sometimes wrecked and lives lost. The hardest part of the work was in what was called, "making the portages." Some of the rivers are full of falls and rapids that are impa.s.sable for the boats. Here the portages have to be made. The hardy boatmen row up to the rapids as close as is safe, unload their cargoes, and carry them on their backs to the selected spot below the obstruction in the river. Then the boats have to be hauled ash.o.r.e, and dragged overland by the united strength of the several crews to the same place; here they are again launched, and with cargoes aboard, the journey is resumed. On some of these trips the number of portages runs up into the scores. Great lakes have to be crossed where fierce storms at times rage, and where head-winds blow with such fury, that sometimes the brigades are delayed many days.

At Norway house,--which for many years was the great northern depot for the company's goods, and the great distributing centre for the interior parts,--this first brigade would exchange its cargo of goods for the bales of rich furs which another brigade, that had come from the further interior, perhaps from Athabasca or the Saskatchewan country, had brought down thus far on their way to the s.h.i.+ps for the London market.

Then this second brigade would return hundreds of miles into the interior; and, meeting another brigade from regions still more remote, would exchange its cargo of goods with this third brigade, for regions yet more distant. Thus it would go on, until some of the bales of goods were more than three thousand miles from the seaboard where they were landed; and the different posts had their supply of goods for the fur trade with the Indians. So it happened, that years elapsed ere the goods reached some of the places; and the furs also were years in reaching the s.h.i.+p for England.

All of this heavy work was performed by the Indian boatmen, or "trippers," as they were called. They were the fur-hunters during the cold winter months; but so long as there was open water--that is, no ice--they were employed by hundreds to take in goods and bring out furs.

The one despotic command delivered to these brigades by the company was, "push on!" They argued: The summer in these high lat.i.tudes is short; we must make the most of it. Every day tells, and there must be no lagging by the way. The result was, that the men were worked to the last degree of endurance. Many failed at the oar, while others dropped under the heavy loads on the difficult portages. "Fill up the ranks quickly, and push on," was the order. It was all excitement, and rush, and high pressure, from the beginning of the tripping season until the close.

There was no relaxation--no Sabbath--no rest.

It seemed utter folly for the missionary to come in where such a condition of things existed, and say to the best men of the best brigade: "We know the summer is short, and it is essential for the welfare of the company and your own wages, that the goods should be taken in, and the furs brought out. But a Higher Power has said, 'Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy, so when Sat.u.r.day night overtakes you, tie up your boats, lay aside your oars, and rest in quietness and devotion until G.o.d's day is over.'"

The company in their blindness were at first astounded, then enraged.

To lose one-seventh of the short summer, when, as it was, the brigades were sometimes caught by the ice, would never do! This fanaticism must be stopped! They threatened--they persecuted the missionary and the Indians. Their monopoly in the country gave them great power, and they wielded it unmercifully. Unable to induce the missionary by bribes or threats to take another stand, they resorted to persecution; and by calumnies most foul, strove to destroy his good name, and to drive him out of the country.