Oowikapun, or, How the Gospel reached the Nelson River Indians

by Egerton Ryerson Young

The heaviest item of the load is the supply of fish for the dogs. As this trip is to be such a long one, each sled must carry over two hundredweight of fish. Then the food for the missionary and his Indians, which consists principally of fat meat, is the next heaviest item. Then there are the kettles, and axes, and dishes, and numerous robes and blankets and changes of clothing, and a number of other things, to be ready for every emergency or accident; for they are going to live so isolated from the rest of the world that they must be entirely independent of it. One thing more they must not forget, and that is a liberal supply of dog shoes, and so on this trip they take over a hundred.

In selecting his Indian companions, the missionary’s first thought is for a suitable guide, as much depends on him. The one chosen for this trip was called Murdo, a very reliable man, who had come originally from Nelson River. Very clever and gifted are some of these Northern guides. Without the vestige of a track before them, and without, the mark of an axe upon a tree, or the least sign that ever human beings had passed that way before, they stride along on their big snow-shoes day after day, without any hesitancy. The white man often gets so bewildered that he does not know east from west or north from south; but the guide never hesitates, and is very seldom at fault. To them it makes no difference whether the sun shines or clouds obscure the sky, or whether they journey by day or night. Sometimes it is necessary to do much of the travelling by night, on account of the reflection of the dazzling rays of the sun on the great, brilliant wastes of snow giving the travellers a disease called snow-blindness, which is painful in the extreme. To guard against this, travelling is frequently done through the hours of night, and the sleep secured is during the hours of sunshine.

Yet the experienced guide will lead on just as well by night as by day. To him it makes no difference what may be the character of the night. Stars may shine, auroras may flash and scintillate, and the moon may throw her cold, silvery beams over the landscape, or clouds may gather and wintry storms rage and howl through the forest; yet on and on will the guide go with unerring accuracy, leading to the desired camping ground.

With this guide, three dog drivers, and Oowikapun, the missionary commenced his first journey to Nelson River.

The contemplated trip had caused no little excitement, not only on account of its dangers, but also because it was the pioneering trip for new evangelistic work among a people who had never seen a missionary or heard the name of Jesus. And so it was that, although the start was made very early in the morning, yet there were scores of Indians gathered to see the missionary and his party off, and to wish them “Godspeed” on their glorious work.

The hasty farewells were soon said, and parting from his loved ones, whom he would not see for a month, the missionary gave the word to start, and they were off.

Murdo, the guide, ran on ahead on his snow-shoes. The missionary came next. He had with him Oowikapun, the happiest man in the crowd. When the missionary could ride—which was the case where the route lay over frozen, lakes or along stretches of the rivers—Oowikapun was his driver, and rejoiced at being thus honoured. Following the missionary’s train, came the other three in single file, so that those following had the advantage of the road made by the sleds and snow-shoes in front. Where the snow was very deep, or a fresh supply had recently fallen, it sometimes happened that the missionary and all the Indians had to strap on their snow-shoes, and, following in the tracks of the guide, tramp on ahead of the dogs, and thus endeavour to make a road over which those faithful animals could drag their heavy loads.

When our travellers began to feel hungry a fire was quickly kindled, a kettle of tea prepared, and a hearty lunch of cold meat or pemmican was eaten and washed down with the strong tea. So vigorous are the appetites in that cold land, that often five times a day do the travellers stop for lunch. Then on they go until the setting sun tells them it is time to prepare for the wintry camp, where the night is to be spent. If they can possibly find it, they select a place where there are green balsam trees, and plenty of dry dead ones. The green ones will furnish the bed, while the dry ones will make the fire.

When such a place is found a halt is called and everybody is busy. The dogs are quickly unharnessed and gambol about close to the camp and never attempt to desert.

From the spot selected for the camp the snow is quickly scraped by using the great snow-shoes as shovels. Then a roaring fire is made, and on it the kettles, filled with snow, are placed. In the larger kettle a piece of fat meat is cooked, and in the other one tea is made. While supper is cooking the dogs are fed. They are only given one meal a day, and that is at night. Two good whitefish constitute a meal. These are thawed out for them at the fire; and after eating them they curl themselves up in their nests and sleep or shiver through the cold night as best they can. The supper, which consists principally of fat meat, is then eaten, and after prayers preparations are made for retiring. A layer of balsam boughs is placed on the ground; on this the robes and blankets are spread; and then the missionary, wrapping himself up in all the garments he can well get on, retires first and is well covered up by additional blankets and fur robes. So completely tucked in is he that it is a mystery why he does not smother to death. But somehow he manages to survive, and after a while gets to stand it like an Indian. Persons unacquainted with this kind of life can hardly realise how it is possible for human beings to thus lie down in a hole in the snow, and sleep comfortably with the temperature everywhere from forty to sixty below zero. However, difficult as it is, it has to be done if the Gospel is to be carried to people so remote that there is no better way of reaching them. Such travellers are always thankful when a foot or eighteen inches of snow falls upon them. It is a capital comforter, and adds very much to their warmth.