Any of the Indians who can come in to celebrate the Christmas and New Year’s festivals eagerly seize the opportunity. But this is not possible for the greater number, whose hunting-grounds lie at considerable distances from the fort. In their far-away tents they have no means of Christian communion or instruction, except by intercourse with one another, and by the study of the portions of Scripture, prayers, and hymns which they gladly and thankfully carry away with them to their lonely homes in the wilderness.
The society had sent out a printing-press to Moose Fort, to facilitate the supply of books to the Indians. Mr. Horden had hoped to receive by the ship copies of his translations ready printed, instead of which, to his dismay, blank sheets arrived with the press. He was no printer, although his father had been, and now his energy, courage, and power to overcome difficulties pre-eminently showed themselves. He shut himself up in his room for several days, resolved to master the putting together of the press; a very complicated business. But he accomplished it, and great was his joy and triumph when he found that the machinery would work. From this press issued, in one winter, no less than sixteen hundred books in three Indian dialects.
The winter over and gone, the snow nearly disappeared, day after day the geese and wavies are seen flying overhead. The mighty river, which has been for many months locked up, with a giant’s strength has burst its bonds asunder, and rushes impetuously towards the sea; a few birds appear in the trees, the frogs have commenced their croaking, fish find their way to the well-laid nets; and the busy mosquito has begun its unwelcome buzz. The Indians collect their furs, tie them in bundles, and place them in the canoes, and with their dogs and household stuff they make their way down stream to the trader’s residence. They run a few rapids, carry their canoe and baggage over many portages, sail the frail bark over one or two lakes, and are at the end of their journey. Down come the trader’s servants to help to carry the packs to the store.
A TRADER’S STORE
Let us look around. The store contains everything that an Indian needs, whether for business or comfort. Here a rack full of guns, there a pile of thick blankets, a bale of blanket coats, and an almost unlimited supply of blue and red cloth; axes and knives, matches and kettles, beads and braid, deer-skin and moose-skin, powder and shot, twine for nets and snares, tea and sugar, flour and oatmeal, pork and pease; and some good books too, which tell the Indian of God and heaven, and which he can read.
The trader approaches, his face beaming with delight as he eyes the packs, for they are large and valuable. He soon begins work. The first bale contains nothing but beaver skins. Eighty-five examined are said to be worth a hundred and twenty beaver according to the standard value. The next contains forty marten, ten otter, a hundred and fifty rat. These are adjudged worth a hundred beaver; the third bale is composed of five hundred rabbit skins, worth twenty-five beaver. Consider a beaver equal to two shillings and sixpence, and you will see the value of the hunt in sterling money. We have now—bale one value one hundred and twenty beaver; bale two value one hundred beaver; and bale three value twenty-five beaver; altogether two-hundred-and-forty-five beaver. Last summer yonder Indian took out a debt in goods of one hundred and fifty beaver, this he pays, and then he has ninety-five beaver with which to trade. Ninety-five quills are given to him, and his trading begins. The trader, like an English shopman, stands behind a counter, and the Indian outside. Native-like, he consults long before the purchase of each article. Having decided, he calls out, ‘A gun;’ a gun is delivered, and he pays over ten of his quills; then three yards of cloth, for which he pays two quills; two books, and for them he pays one quill; and so on he goes, the heap of goods increasing and the supply of quills decreasing gradually. As he approaches the end, the consultation becomes very anxious; he is making quite sure that he is laying out his money to the best advantage. But the end comes at last, and, satisfied with his bargains, he gathers all up into one of the purchased blankets, and retires to his tent, where he examines and admires, and admires again, article after article.