Young Alaskans in the Far North Part 6

John and Jesse grew very grumpy over the prestige Rob had gained by his journey through the rapids, and besought Uncle d.i.c.k to allow them also to make the pa.s.sage. Late in the third day, when most of the boats were through, they renewed their importunities, and he finally replied:

"Well, young men, I've about concluded to let you go through with the last boat. Francois says that he has been watching you all, and believes that you would not get 'some scares.' He says he will take you through in your own boat, which will be the last one of the brigade. The river has come up three or four inches since we struck in, and he says we can run through without uns.h.i.+pping much, if any, of our cargo, which doesn't amount to very much. Rob has made the trip, and I figure now that we are all in the same boat together. Sometimes it is necessary to be either a man or a mouse. I want to see you grow up men. Well, are you ready now?"

All the boys gladly said that they were, Rob insisting on accompanying the boat once more, as indeed was necessary, since there would be no transport after that.

They took s.h.i.+p at the head of the island, and were tooled across the shallow water to the head of the rapids on the farther sh.o.r.e. Here the men all disembarked and sat silently along the edge of the bluff, taking one of the pipe-smokes which make so regular a part of the _voyageur's_ day's employment. They seemed to get some sort of comfort out of their pipes, and almost invariably when undertaking any dangerous enterprise a quiet smoke was a part of the preparation.

Francois talked to them, meantime, seeing that they were eager to learn about the customs of this strange and wild country into which they now were going. He told them, motioning to the steep hillside on the right of the channel, that in the old times he used to pack stuff across the mile-and-a-half portage there for fifty cents a hundred pounds. It was hard work, and yet he made it pay. When they began to portage on the island, and not along the mountain-side, he had made as much as fifty dollars a day, for he got five dollars for taking a boat through the rapids, or thirty dollars for running it down to Fort McPherson; so that a season's work would bring him, in very good years, over a thousand dollars, if he worked.

"But yong man, she spend the mon'," said he, smiling.

John set down in his book the facts and figures, the date of 1871, which was the time when old Cap. Shott first ran a boat through the Grand Rapids. Since that time a few other pilots had come on who proved able to handle scows in white water. But old Cap. Shott and his long-time friend, Louis La Vallee, were now both of them old--"h'almost h'eighty year, she is, each of him," said Francois.

"Well, now," he added at length, "we will ron h'on the _rapide_."

He rose and motioned to his men, who once more took their places at the oars, as they had in the boat which carried Rob through. Again the bowman squatted on his short fore deck. Francois, the steersman, stood on his plank walk at the handle of the great steering-oar.

Gently they pushed out from sh.o.r.e, the last boat of the brigade.

"Here goes the _Midnight Sun_!" cried Jesse, waving his hat.

Uncle d.i.c.k watched them closely as the boat advanced. The boys spoke little or not at all, and John later accused Jesse of trying to pinch a piece out of the side of the boat, he held on so tight. But not one of them showed the white feather, nor made any trouble for the men in their work of running the fast water.

The boat at first ran along gently, the little waves lapping along the sides smartly, but not excitingly. Then at the end of the lower third the water gained in speed very much. At The Turn the waves were no doubt ten feet high. Francois, with a great sweep of his oar, fairly flung the boat athwart the current here, and the pa.s.sage was made with no more than a sc.r.a.ping on the dangerous lower rock--the one which Uncle d.i.c.k called Scylla. The upper one he called Charybdis.

"You'll learn what those two words mean when you go to school a little later," said he, smiling.

Once beyond The Turn John and Jesse understood perfectly well what Rob had meant by saying that the bottom fell out of the river. They were excited, but had no thought of fear by the time they entered the last chute where the scow tobogganed down to the foot of the island. A moment later it was at rest once more in the eddy below the promontory.

Rob explained now about the log float which had carried the rope down to their boat when he first went through. There was, however, no longer need for the float to carry down a line to the boat. The brigade was through and the last scow below the island. The clerk and his taciturn companion were left alone. They stood now, both of them, waving their hats to the occupants of the _Midnight Sun_ as, after a little, at the command of Francois, she pushed out from the eddy and took her place in the long procession of the north-bound brigade, every man of which now felt a sense of relief, since the most dangerous part of the early journey, the portage of the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca, had been safely accomplished.

The flotilla was now strung out over many miles of water, but it was the intention to make several miles additional before stopping for the night. In the late twilight, here strangely long and bright, Rob went on with his notes in his diary, while John worked at his map, charting as best he could the right-hand channel through which they had made their exciting journey. Rob's notes later proved of interest to his friends, as they explained very much about the journey of this dangerous two hundred and fifty miles of the white-water transport.

"_Wednesday, June 4th._--Everybody busy all day. At 5 P.M.

most of the freight on the island, and getting loaded on cars. Slept in the little mosquito tents. Very busy day.

"_Thursday, June 5th._--Many pictures to-day, and we all were busy. Curious work running boats through the rapids and getting boat back to end of island. I think that rope that they let down to the boat is almost a quarter of a mile long. It takes twenty men or more to haul a boat up against the rapids, empty, of course.

"Off in the _Midnight Sun_ below the island late afternoon.

Ran the little Grand Rapids, and swung into the Second Eddy for supper. After that ran seven miles. Camp ground very bad. Mosquitoes getting worse.

"_Friday, June 6th._--A great many rapids to-day. The Buffalo seems mild to us after the Grand. The Brule Rapids we liked because they had some pep to them. At about 3 P.M.

we hit the Boiler Rapids, which is one of the worst. Name because a scow was lost here that was carrying a boiler up north. The boiler has never been recovered. Rapids full of boulders, and in low water very bad. Not very dangerous at this stage. Everybody was still as we went through this place and came into what they called the Rapids of the Drowned. They say a great many men have been drowned there, and it certainly looked bad. These two rapids are about a mile and a half altogether.

"Four boats were tied back because not everybody can run these rapids. Our boat was in the lead. Then four pilots walked back to bring through the boats which had been held up. We made pictures of them as they came through. Supper at 5 as we floated along, and then we dropped into the Middle Rapids and had a beautiful time.

"One or two canoes ran through with breeds. Pretty exciting.

They say few of these breeds can swim, but they don't seem to mind that. Saw several wrecks of scows along the sh.o.r.es here, and one boat upset in the middle of the rapids. Some machinery on sh.o.r.e below rapids, very rusty. Begin to understand why freight comes high. Sometimes half a cargo is wasted or lost. No farms, no horses, no cows. A good game country. They say the game and fish keep the white men alive. The little boy Charl' keeps with the good Sisters. He was scared going through the rapids, and so were they.

"On the Long Rapids, as we pa.s.sed through, we saw the fresh grave of one of the men who was drowned here the other day.

Only one body was found. Their canoe was all broken up.

"On the Crooked Rapids we saw where the men have to track the boats going up-stream. Don't see how they keep from falling off the bank. Below the Crooked come the Stony Rapids, and what the boatmen call the Dive, a sudden dip down of three or four feet. Sometimes boats s.h.i.+p seas.

Scenery this evening bold and interesting. Some cliffs. Fast water all day. Camp at 8 o'clock on a good high bluff.

Mosquitoes not quite so bad. Nights cool. This ended the most glorious day I ever spent out of doors, I believe.

"_Sat.u.r.day, June 7th._--Beautiful weather. Pa.s.sed cliffs where they say there is oil. I don't know. We heard heavy rapids below, and at 7 A.M. got into them. They call this the Little Cascade. A ledge runs across the river. At 9 o'clock we came to one of the big jumps on the river known as the Grand Cascade. About the worst man-trap there is in low water, they say. We concluded to run her. Our boat goes first. Some boats tie back to wait for our pilots. There are three good pilots to eight boats. Many pictures of boats running the Cascade, which drops eight or ten feet like a mill-dam. Wonderful what these men can do with the boat.

"Now three or four small rapids which I don't mind, then at 11.45 we struck Mountain Rapids, which made little Charl'

'get some scares,' as Francois says. Sometimes we eat on the boat. I asked Father Le Fevre if he had prayed for high water, and he said yes. Then I asked him what he did if high water didn't come. He said, 'My son, although in that case I prayed for high water, perhaps G.o.d likewise took another way to show His power, and so saved us out of even greater danger and discomfort.' He's a bird.

"The Moberly Rapids don't amount to much. We ran them at 1.30--the last on the great chain of rapids, so they say. In about fifteen minutes we could see Fort McMurray on ahead.

Many scows were lying along the sh.o.r.e, mostly loaded, some empty. Climbed up a steep hill to a fine flat on top of the bluff. Woods all around. A fine site for a town, and the Indians have it. The flat was covered with tepees, also some tents. There were dogs and dogs and babies and babies everywhere, with squaws and Indian men walking around all dressed up in their best. The Indian agent is going to pay their treaty money. It is only eight hundred and fifty dollars altogether--not very much, I think. Hear a lot of talk about lands and towns and railroads and oil.

"There are some Chippewyans here, and a lot of Crees, but these northern Indians don't speak the Cree language. Got my moccasins mended. Made some pictures. The _Grahame_ is the name of the H. B. steamboat which is going to take us down the river from here. We will tow our scow and sleep on the steamboat. Monday morning is when we start.

"_Sunday, June 8th._--The treaty payment goes on, although it is Sunday. Indian men sitting down on the gra.s.s before the commissioner. He asks each one what right he has to claim money from the Great Father, I suppose. Once in a while he turns to the clerk and says, 'We'll give this old duffer twenty bucks.' This doesn't look to me like very much money. I don't think they get much help. They are poor and dependent. If they couldn't rustle well out of doors they all would die. Much trade finery among the natives, who dress very bright. Several Northwest Mounted Policemen in red-jacket uniform who go north with us on the boat. She is going to be crowded. The judge and his party are going on the scows.

"Well, this is the end of the scow-work for us, so it seems.

Uncle d.i.c.k thinks we will be more comfortable on the steamer, and will see more people to talk to than if we stuck to our own scow. We will tow her alongside. I hope they will let us run through the Smith's Landing portage, on the Little Slave, a hundred miles below here. I never had a better time in my life than the first 250 miles. The mosquitoes don't bother us quite so much. John eats a great deal, and Jesse is getting fat. Having a bully time."

VI

ON THE STEAMBOAT

As Rob indicated in his diary, the start from McMurray was made early on Monday morning, but the stop was long enough for the boys to gain an idea of the importance of this busy frontier settlement. Here also came in the Clearwater River, down which, by way of a chain of lakes, all the brigade traffic used to come before the discovery that the Grand Rapids themselves could be run. When it is remembered that the start was made from Athabasca Landing on May 29th, and the arrival at McMurray on June 7th, it will be seen that, crude as the system and the means of transport had been, a great deal of results had been attained. Rob figured that at the rate of two hundred and fifty miles a week they would not get very far, but Uncle d.i.c.k pointed out that now, since they had reached steamer transport, the journey would advance very rapidly.

The steamboat, after its start, pa.s.sed the string of scows, among which were some boats of independent traders, and a few hardy adventurers bound north, for what purpose they hardly knew.

The _Grahame_ advanced steadily and rapidly down-stream. Some of the pa.s.sengers excitedly tried to point out to Uncle d.i.c.k the value of the oil-lands in this part of the world, but Uncle d.i.c.k only smiled and said he was out for a good time, and not building railroads now.

The weather grew quite warm, and in the state-rooms the boys found that the thermometer stood at ninety degrees. With one stop for wood at a yard where the natives had piled up enormous quant.i.ties of cordwood, the boat tied up after making perhaps sixty miles.

On the following day she continued her steady progress down-stream between the green-lined sh.o.r.es. The banks of the river now grew lower and lower, and by nine o'clock in the evening, at which time it still was light, there began to show the marshes of the Peace River Delta, one of the most important deltas in all the world. The boat ran on into the night, and before midnight had pa.s.sed the mouths of the Quatre Fourches, or Four Forks, which make the mouth of the Peace River.

The boys wondered at the great marshes which now they saw, and Uncle d.i.c.k explained to them that here was one of the greatest wild-fowl breeding-grounds in all the world.

"If there were any way in the world for sportsmen to get up here,"

said he, "this country would soon be famous, for it certainly is a wilderness. Here is where the natives shoot wild geese for their winter's meat. And as for ducks, there is no numbering them."

Every one sat on the decks of the boat late at night, and we may rest a.s.sured that the boys were on hand when finally the _Grahame_ swung to her moorings along the rocky sh.o.r.e of historic Fort Chippewyan.

In the morning they went ash.o.r.e eagerly and gazed with wonderment over the wild scene which lay all about. The point where they landed was a rocky promontory. Before it lay high, rocky islands, among which ran the channels of the two great rivers which here met in the great waters of Athabasca Lake.

"Just to think," said Rob to his friends, "this post here was founded a hundred and forty-three years ago. My, but I'd have liked to have been with old Sir Alexander at that time! He ought to have a monument here, it seems to me, or some sort of tablet; but there isn't a thing to tell about his having found this place or done anything extraordinary."