"A great hole was then dug in the ground, which I concluded was to be my burial-place. In this excavation a fire was kept up until the ground was heated to its utmost extent, when the embers and ashes were scraped out. Several layers of damp mud were immediately plastered over this fiery furnace. I was then placed within it, and covered with mud, my head alone protruding. For thirty-six hours I endured the torture of escaping steam, after which they carried me back to my lair in the camp more dead than alive, where I lingered on in agony, praying that every day might be my last. I began to wonder where the limit of human endurance could be found, and was led to view the situation philosophically. Why had Infinite Love placed me in such environment? Was it to appear as a witness for Him who had said, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?' Was it to bring the light of the Gospel to the Red Knives?
"Month after month I lay in the wigwam, surrounded by the children of the natives, who in summer were dressed in the uniform which the Creator had given them, with dangling necklaces or armlets to decorate them. I soon acquired sufficient knowledge of their language to be able to converse with them. After years of teaching they at length began to regard me with feelings of superstition and awe, and one day the Chief proposed a change of treatment. With a dignified and imperative gesture of the arm, he bade his attendants carry me in a blanket to a canoe.
"'We are not pleased,' he said, 'with the progress you are making towards recovery, and we have decided to take you to a spring which possesses strange healing power.'
"I could not understand all the Chief said, but his manner indicated tenderness and sympathy, which led me to believe that the light which was beginning to brighten the darkened lives of many of his people was dawning upon him also.
"The suggestion of a change of place kindled in my heart the hope of meeting someone who could assist me in finding my way back to civilization once more, and the gnawing pangs of rheumatism seemed lulled for a time as we embarked on the peaceful waters of the lake.
"It was a glorious day, not a ripple stirred the water as our canoe glided over the surface. Not a breath of wind moved the heavy mist which rose and floated with silver transparency over the depths below. We floated rather than paddled down the little river that connected the lakes. The snow-capped peaks of the distant mountains glistened with a radiance that was dazzling as they rose upon our view. It was like fairy-land. Not a bend in the little stream but disclosed some glimpse of unexpected loveliness.
"At last we floated out upon the waters of Great Slave Lake, and new scenes opened before us. Far away in the distance the deep blue waters glowed and sparkled in the blaze of sunlight. Here and there islands of green contrasted with the brightness of the water that lay between them. Far away ahead of our canoe there seemed to nestle on the surface of the lake a small gray cloud. As we approached it I could just make out the shadow of an island, and I understood from the conversation of the Indians that we had at last reached our destination.
"They carried me over the green mossy turf to a place where little jets of mineral water were springing clear and sparkling in the sunlight. Here they commenced to erect a rude hut. Its walls and roof were low, enclosing a roughly levelled floor of earth. We spread our skins and drew our blankets over us, and soon felt quite at home in our new quarters. We had not spent many months on the island before I felt almost free from pain. Though my joints were too stiff to walk much, the pains that for long years had made motion intolerable and life a misery were almost gone.
"One morning as I lay in the hut watching my companions as they sat round the fire cooking their mid-day meal, a canoe suddenly came in sight. I started and rubbed my eyes, thinking it a strange illusion, but there before me were the faces of two white men, the first I had seen since that ever-memorable night when my crew deserted me. My companions kept their places before the fire and betrayed not the slightest surprise or fear while I poured out to my new-found friends the story of past years. Captain Franklin offered me a passage in his canoe, and as I took leave of the Indians, and explained that the white men would take me home, they said not a word, but went on smoking their short black pipes as though it were nothing to them."
During the course of the evening it was arranged that an important event should take place at no distant date, George and Chrissy to reside at the White House. At the same time Colonel By remarked that it would be an opportune time to lay the corner-stone of the locks. "We could not do better," he said, "than have the ceremony quietly performed by one whose name is a household word on two continents, one who has braved untold peril and hardship in his country's service, not only in the Polar Seas, but at Trafalgar, Copenhagen and New Orleans, one whose name stands for everything that is honorable, self-sacrificing and courageous."