Chapter Twenty One.
Excursion to Sea River Falls—The Cranberry Picking—The Contest—“Where are the Children?”—Wenonah and Roderick lost in the Forest—First Night’s Unsuccessful Search—The Tracks in the Sand—Mustagan’s Startling Discovery.
Thus pleasantly passed the bright weeks away at Sagasta-weekee. Every day had its duties and amusements. Mr Ross, although the best of masters, was almost a martinet in his affairs, both in the home circle and among those in his employ. This strict disciplinary method is absolutely essential for comfort and success in such a land. If there is a lax method of living and conducting business, soon everything is in confusion and wretchedness.
Yet while everything went on with almost military precision in the home life, there was nothing about it to make it otherwise than pleasant and enjoyable. So the boys ever returned to this happy home with delight from the excitements of their various hunting and fishing excursions.
One of the great deprivations of living in a land where the summer is so short and the winter so long and cold is the lack of native fruit. No apples, pears, cherries, or peaches grow in that northern land. These fruits must be brought to it in a preserved or dried condition.
In some sections wild plums are to be found; in others, abundance of cranberries grow most luxuriously. A few wild strawberries spring up in the clearings where great fires have destroyed the forests. A sweet bilberry also abounds in some parts of the country. This fruit is much prized by the Indians, and frequently used, mixed with dried meat, in the manufacture of their finest pemmican.
The Indian women in the neighbourhood of white settlements or trading posts bring in large quantities of the cranberries, which they gather in the marshes and forests, and sell to those who are able and willing to purchase.
Sometimes cranberry parties were organised, and nearly all the members of the post and families interested would join together and go off on an excursion of several days to places where the berries were abundant, and thus secure large quantities, which were an acceptable addition to their rather meagre bill of fare.
This year, as the berries were reported by the Indian women to be very abundant, Mr and Mrs Ross, at the urgent request of their own children, as well as to give the boys the unique experience, decided to have a cranberry outing on quite an extended scale, and one that would last for several days. It turned out to be unique and memorable in various ways.
It was decided that they should go into camp below Sea River Falls, on the Nelson, and pick berries at their leisure in the great section of country lying north-west from that point, as there they were to be found in large quantities.
For the comfort and convenience of the family a couple of large tents were sent on and pitched by some Indians. The various utensils and supplies necessary for a good time were also forwarded, so that when Mr and Mrs Ross, with Minnehaha, Wenonah, Roderick, and our three lads, arrived they found everything arranged for their comfort.
It was an ideal place for an outing. Before them was the great river with the music of its rushing, roaring rapids, down which it was so exciting to run in the canoes under the skillful guidance of the cautious, experienced Indians. The great granite rocks in picturesque beauty were everywhere to be seen. Back of the sandy beach and grassy sward, where stood the tents and camp fires, was the deep, dark, unbroken forest, that stretched away and away for hundreds of miles.
So delightful were the surroundings, and so good the fishing, as well as novel and interesting this running the rapids, that two or three days were thus spent ere any definite arrangements about the cranberry picking was thought of.
To aid in gathering a large quantity of berries Mrs Ross had engaged a number of Indian women, who were famous as noted berry pickers. These women brought with them a large Indian vessel called a “rogan.” It is made out of birch-bark, and is capable of holding about twenty quarts of berries.
There are two kinds of cranberries in this land. One is called the high-bush variety, while the other is known as the moss cranberry, as it is generally found where moss is abundant, and grows on a small vine on the ground. It was this latter kind that here abounded and that they had come to gather.
As the outing was not merely for the purpose of gathering berries, they did not pick very steadily. Mrs Ross well knew that her faithful Indian women would see that she had her full supply. So the members of the family picked berries, went fishing or hunting or canoeing, more or less frequently, as their inclinations prompted them. Several days thus passed in varied sport and work.
One evening as the Indian women came in with their heavy loads they reported finding, not very far distant, a splendid place, where the berries were very plentiful, and the ground dry and mossy and free from muskegs and rocks. So it was decided that, with the exception of some of the servants, who would remain and take care of the camp, all should go and have a big day of it at berry picking, and then they would make their arrangements for returning home.
The preparations necessary were soon made. A number of large and small rogans were made ready, and, in addition, the men took the precaution to carry with them their guns and ammunition.
Minnehaha and Wenonah were very happy and proud of the honour of taking charge of their little brother Roddy, as they loved to call him. As the children were anxious to do their share of picking berries they were each supplied with a little birch-bark vessel, and with great delight did they gather quite a number of the bright red berries that were so abundant.
As they had left the camp early in the morning they were able to do a capital forenoon’s work. At midday they all assembled at a designated place, and much enjoyed the dinner that the servants had prepared for them. Then again they separated, and men, women, and children were once more very busily employed in gathering in the fruit, while pleasant chat and merry laugh would be heard from various parts.
To add a little zest and excitement to the pleasant work the whole company had been divided into two parties, and between them there was a lively contest as to which should succeed in gathering the greater quantity of berries.
Little Roderick and Wenonah were placed on one side as being equal in their picking abilities to their older sister, Minnehaha. Very proud were the little folks as they filled their dishes and came and emptied them into the large vessels. Thus the contest raged, and, as the two parties were about equal in picking abilities, the excitement rose very high, and all exerted themselves to the utmost that their side might be victorious.
It had been previously arranged that the contest was to cease at sundown, so as to give them plenty of time to return to the camp in the beautiful gloaming.
Some able-bodied Indian men were employed to carry the large birch rogans to the selected spots, where the berries were to be measured and the victors announced. Some time was spent in this work amid the excitement of all, as the contest was very close.
“Where is Roderick?” said Mrs Ross.
“O, he is with Wenonah,” said Minnehaha.
“And where is Wenonah?” was the question now.
No one seemed to know. And so the cry of the sweet musical name rang out on the air:
“Wenonah! Wenonah!”
But to that call, and also to that for the little brother Roderick, there was no response.
At once there was excitement and alarm.
“Who saw them last, and where were they?”
Many more such questions were uttered, while some persons ran one way and some another. Several young men seized their guns and fired several shots in quick succession, but Mr Ross stopped them as quickly as possible.
Mr Ross, although alarmed, was the first to get some order among them, and on the closest questioning it came out that none were certain that they had seen the children since about three o’clock, and that was when they were emptying their little dishes of berries into the larger receptacles. Then, excited by the contest, they had rushed off for more.
A rumbling of thunder in the west startled them, and so, prompt must be their movements. To the point where the little ones were last seen a dozen or more had hurried, and ere they scattered in the forest to begin the search they were told that the firing of the guns would be the signal of success or failure. One report meant they were not found; two reports, close together, was the signal that they had been found, and for the searchers to return. Immediately all those who were able to act as searchers, without themselves becoming lost, scattered to their work. On account of the vastness of the forest Mr Ross positively refused to allow Frank, Alec, or Sam to go any distance away on the search. This was a keen disappointment to the boys, but Mr Ross was wise in his decision. The searchers had very little to assist them in their work. There were any number of signs where had walked the busy feet, but the trouble was there had been so many pickers at work, and they had travelled so far, that it was impossible to pick out the tracks of the two lost children.
Only an hour or so were the searchers able to do anything that night; for the thunderstorm was on them, and in spite of all they could do they were all drenched through and through. Mrs Ross, although stricken with grief, kept firm control over herself, and, surrounded and comforted by Minnehaha and the three boys, huddled under the slight protection which some Indian women had hastily prepared against the fierce storm. Mr Ross had done all that was possible in directing the watchers as they brought all their Indian experience to their aid. Thus the hours passed. The storm spent its fury in the heavy downpour of rain, and then was gone. The stars came out from behind the flying clouds, and the night again became one of beauty. Still there were no signs of the children. Somewhere out in the forest, alone, were those little ones whom none as yet had been able to find. The heavy rain had completely obliterated every vestige of a trail. So the searchers, sad and quiet, came in one after another, grieved and vexed at their failure.
Mr Ross tried to induce Mrs Ross, with Minnehaha, to return to the camp and obtain refreshment and rest, but she most positively refused.
“My children are out in the wild forest, exposed to many dangers. I cannot go to bed until they are found,” she passionately exclaimed.
So a great fire was built out of dry logs, blankets were sent for from the tents, and the saddest and longest night to those terrified ones slowly passed away. Mr Ross had not only sent for food and blankets for all, but he had also dispatched swift runners to go by land and water and cease not until they had found Mustagan and Big Tom and told them of his loss and sorrow.
Soon after sunrise these grand old men walked into the camp. A hasty council was summoned, and these old men closely questioned the Indians who had been present the previous day, and who had searched until the storm and darkness stopped them.
When they were told that a number of guns had been fired off in quick succession they were much annoyed, and said:
“Great mistake. Lost children in the woods always hide when they hear guns.”
But no time must be lost. The country was to be marked out and a code of signals explained by which they could communicate with each other as soon as any trail was found. Not in straight lines were they to go, but in enlarging circles until they should cross the trail of the children. When it was found, they were to report as speedily as possible, that there might be a concentration from that point and thus no waste in fruitless search.
Not until about noon was the first sign struck; then it was a number of miles away from the camp. It is simply marvellous the distances that lost persons, even little children, will travel. The clue discovered by Big Tom was where the children had left the dry, rocky lands, which left no trail of the little feet, and had crossed a small, shallow stream. Here the sands were clearly marked by the little footsteps, and Tom’s big heart gave a great thump of joy as he saw the signs so clearly indicated before him. At first he feared to fire the signal, lest he should add to the terror of the lost children; but as soon as he examined the footprints he saw that they had been made the evening before, and by little ones who were hurrying on as rapidly as possible.
As quickly as he could he followed them up until they were lost again on the dry rocks on the other side; then he fired his gun, and while waiting the coming of others he kept diligently searching for some other signs of the wanderers.
Not long had he to wait ere he was joined by Mr Ross, Mustagan, and others. They were all excited, and glad to see these footprints, but judged by the hardness of the sand in the steps that the children had passed over the creek some hours before dark the previous evening. This being the case, they might have travelled some miles farther before they were stopped by the storm and darkness. But no needless time was spent in surmises and conjecturing. A new starting point had been found, and from it the search was again renewed with all the vigour possible.
If Wenonah and Roderick had been pure white children, brought up in a civilised land with all the ignorance incident to such regions, they would have been found long ere this; but their part Indian blood and thorough training in that wild north land was now really to them a misfortune—first, because they had the strength and training to push on with such wonderful speed and endurance; again, it also made them wary and cunning, and so fearful of being tracked by wild beasts or hostile Indians that they carefully, but rapidly, moved along in a way that children not brought up in such a land would never have dreamed of.
So, while the Indians were looking for traces of the children, the wandering lost ones were doing all they could not to leave behind them the vestige of a trail. Thus hours passed on, the sun went down in beauty, the shadows of night began to fall; still not another sign of the wanderers had been found.
Discouraged and annoyed at failure, one after another of the searchers returned to the spot where the footsteps had been discovered. Here the camp had been made, and here had come Mrs Ross, with the boys and others.
The sight of the tiny footsteps of the hurrying feet of her little darlings nearly broke her heart. But she crushed down her great sorrow, that nothing in her should divert anyone, even her husband, in the search for those who were still exposed to so many dangers—lost in the great forest of so many thousands of square miles.
The last to come in was Mustagan, and his face was that of a man who has bad news but, by intense effort, shows it not in his countenance, but keeps it locked up in his heart. Few and yet searching were the words uttered at the camp fire as each one had declared to Mustagan that there had been no fresh signs. He himself had not given any answer, and, by asking questions of the others, had thus thrown off suspicion as regarded himself. But nevertheless he had seen signs, and what he had seen had nearly driven him wild. But darkness had come on him almost suddenly from the arising up of a black cloud in the west, and so, in spite of all his experience and anxiety, he had been compelled to return shortly after making this startling discovery. What he had seen had so alarmed him that he dare not tell, even to Mr Ross.
Very sad, indeed, was that second night around the camp fire. Mr and Mrs Ross were nearly broken-hearted. Frank, Alec, and Sam spent the night in sleepless sorrow. The Indians, who all dearly loved the lost little ones, sat back in the gloom and were still and quiet. A kind of stupor seemed to be over them all, with one exception, and, strange to say, that one was Mustagan. Sharp eyes were on him, and some wondered why he was so strangely agitated and was so restless and excited.
A little after midnight he abruptly sprang up, and speaking to Big Tom and a couple of other Indians they all withdrew some distance back into the darkness of the forest. To them in quiet tones, so as not to be heard by the sorrowing ones at the camp fire, Mustagan told what he had seen just as the darkness had set in. When they heard his story they were as much excited as was he.
His story was this: he had pushed on in the direction he had selected in the hunt for the children, and toward evening he had reached a part of the country where the berries were very plentiful. Here he had found traces that bears were numerous, and as they are fond of these berries they had been feasting on them. This, of course, alarmed him, and so he cautiously began making a circle around this place, and at length, in a depression in the forest, he found the dried-up channel of a creek. He cautiously hurried along on the dry sands, and, after going on only a few hundred yards, he found a number of fresh tracks, not only of bears that had recently crossed but also among them the footsteps of the lost children!
