CHAPTER XXI
FORT RESOLUTION AND ITS FOLK
Early next morning Preble called on his old acquaintance, Chief Trader C. Harding, in charge of the post. Whenever we have gone to H. B. Co. officials to do business with them, as officers of the company, we have found them the keenest of the keen; but whenever it is their personal affair, they are hospitality out-hospitalled. They give without stint; they lavish their kindness on the stranger from the big world. In a few minutes Preble hastened back to say that we were to go to breakfast at once.
That breakfast, presided over by a charming woman and a genial, generous man, was one that will not be forgotten while I live. Think of it, after the hard scrabble on the Nyarling! We had real porridge and cream, coffee with veritable sugar and milk, and authentic butter, light rolls made of actual flour, unquestionable bacon and potatoes, with jam and toast—the really, truly things—and we had as much as we could eat! We behaved rather badly—intemperately, I fear—we stopped only when forced to do it, and yet both of us came away with appetites.
It was clear that I must get some larger craft than my canoe to cross the lake from Fort Resolution and take the 1,300 pounds of provisions that had come on the steamer. Harding kindly offered the loan of a York boat, and with the help chiefly of Charlie McLeod the white man, who is interpreter at the fort, I secured a crew to man it. But oh, what worry and annoyance it was! These Great Slave Lake Indians are like a lot of spoiled and petulant children, with the added weakness of adult criminals; they are inconsistent, shiftless, and tricky. Pike, Whitney, Buffalo Jones, and others united many years ago in denouncing them as the most worthless and contemptible of the human race, and since then they have considerably deteriorated. There are exceptions, however, as will be seen by the record.
One difficulty was that it became known that on the Buffalo expedition Bezkya had received three dollars a day, which is government emergency pay. I had agreed to pay the regular maximum, two dollars a day with presents and keep. All came and demanded three dollars. I told them they could go at once in search of the hottest place ever pictured by a diseased and perfervid human imagination.
If they went there they decided not to stay, because in an hour they were back offering to compromise. I said I could run back to Fort Smith (it sounds like nothing) and get all the men I needed at one dollar and a half. (I should mortally have hated to try.) One by one the crew resumed. Then another bombshell. I had offended Chief Snuff by not calling and consulting with him; he now gave it out that I was here to take out live Musk-ox, which meant that all the rest would follow to seek their lost relatives. Again my crew resigned. I went to see Snuff. Every man has his price. Snuff's price was half a pound of tea; and the crew came back, bringing, however, several new modifications in our contract.
Taking no account of several individuals that joined a number of times but finally resigned, the following, after they had received presents, provisions, and advance pay, were the crew secured to man the York boat on the "3 or 4" days' run to Pike's Portage and then carry my goods to the first lake.
Weeso. The Jesuits called him Louison d'Noire, but it has been corrupted into a simpler form. "Weeso" they call it, "Weeso" they write it, and for "Weeso" you must ask, or you will not find him. So I write it as I do "Sousi" and "Yum," with the true local colour.
He was a nice, kind, simple old rabbit, not much use and not over-strong, but he did his best, never murmuring, and in all the mutinies and rebellions that followed he remained staunch, saying simply, "I gave my word I would go, and I will go." He would make a safe guide for the next party headed for Aylmer Lake. He alone did not ask rations for his wife during his absence; he said, "It didn't matter about her, as they had been married for a long time now." He asked as presents a pair of my spectacles, as his eyes were failing, and a marble axe. The latter I sent him later, but he could not understand why glasses that helped me should not help him. He acted as pilot and guide, knowing next to nothing about either.
Francois d'Noire, son of Weeso, a quiet, steady, inoffensive chap, but not strong; nevertheless, having been there once with us, he is now a competent guide to take any other party as far as Pike's Portage.
C., a sulky brute and a mischief-maker. He joined and resigned a dozen times that day, coming back on each occasion with a new demand.
S., grandson of the chief, a sulky good-for-nothing; would not have him again at any price; besides the usual wages, tobacco, food, etc., he demanded extra to support his wife during his absence. The wife, I found, was a myth.
T., a sulky good-for-nothing.
Beaulieu, an alleged grandson of his grandfather. A perpetual breeder of trouble; never did a decent day's work the whole trip. Insolent, mutinous, and overbearing, till I went for him with intent to do bodily mischief; then he became extremely obsequious. Like the rest of the foregoing, he resigned and resumed at irregular intervals.
Yum (William), Freesay; the best of the lot; a bright, cheerful, intelligent, strong Indian, boy. He and my old standby, Billy Loutit, did virtually all the handling of that big boat. Any one travelling in that country should secure Yum if they can. He was worth all the others put together.