Winter Adventures of Three Boys in the Great Lone Land

by Egerton Ryerson Young

“It is too good to be true,” said Frank, as he gripped Alec one hand, while with the other he was waving his handkerchief wildly in response to those of the loved ones on the shore.

Onward sped the boat, and soon all were recognised. Here they found all who had left early in the morning—Mrs Ross and the children and all the mission friends. What a delightful surprise, and how happy they all were that it had been such a success! Poor Sam, the only one to see through it, was the only one to come to grief. He had not patience enough to wait until three or four of the big oars were lashed together to serve as a rude gangway on which to walk safely to the shore but, seeing the ease with which some of the agile Indians ran out on a single oar, in spite of the rocking of the boat, he boldly tried to do the same, and ere he knew where he was he was down in the water, and nearly drowned by a retreating wave under the boat. Quickly he was rescued, but he was completely drenched to the skin. He was somewhat bruised, but was not long the worse for the accident. But as he was quickly hurried off to the shelter of the tent and dry clothes secured for him he admitted that he deserved the ducking, as he had purposely hurried ashore to make a few remarks when the young lovers should meet again.

And so Frank had the joy of again meeting his Rachel, and Alec his sweet Winnie, and a delightful visit they had with them while Sam was having his bruised body well rubbed in sturgeon oil by a stalwart Indian. This is the Indian’s drastic remedy for such a mishap, and a good one it is. Very delightfully passed that long June evening. It was full eleven o’clock ere the gorgeous colours all died away in the west and the stars one by one came out in their quiet beauty and decked as with diamonds that peerless northern sky. After a time the auroras flashed and blazed in quiet beauty. To-night they seemed not as warriors bent on carnage, but as troops of lovers tripping in joyous unison to some sweet strains of music unheard by mortal ears.

Amid such surroundings sat and talked this happy group. It was, they well knew, their last evening together, and so amid its joyousness there was a tinge of sorrow and regret. As the evening darkened into night they had all gathered near the great brilliant camp fire, which is always welcome and agreeable even in June nights, no matter how warm has been the day.

After the delightful events and incidents of the past had been referred to and discussed by all, the conversation turned to the many dangers that had come to some of them, and their narrow escapes. Gratitude to God for their many marvellous deliverances was the uppermost feeling in their hearts. Mr Hurlburt and Mr Ross spoke most impressively on this wonderful providential care that had been over them.

The Indians, except those whose duty it was to see to the welfare of their masters and mistresses, were all now asleep. Wrapped up each in his blanket, they lay around on the rocks in picturesque places.

During the evening all the other boats had arrived from Norway House, and so it was arranged that if the wind continued favourable they would make an early start in the morning. When Mr Ross felt that it was time to break up the delightful circle he asked Mr Hurlburt to take charge of the devotional service. Always hallowed and precious were these sacred hours of worship in the forest or on the shores, and this last one was not less suggestive and profitable. First from memory they all repeated the one-hundred-and-third psalm, then they sang the sweet hymn, “Abide with me,” and at its close Mrs Ross’s sweet voice struck up, “Blest be the tie that binds.” Then Mr Hurlburt, the devoted missionary, led in prayer. Heaven seemed very near as the good man talked with God and commended Frank, Alec, and Sam to his loving, omnipotent care during the long, varied journey before them.

“Say good-bye as well as good night,” said Mr Ross; “for we may be off in the morning without disturbing those who remain behind.”

So the tender farewells were uttered, and all the ladies of the party retired to the large, commodious tent that, as we have seen, had been prepared for them. Mr Ross, Mr Hurlburt, and the boys went to the camp beds that had been long waiting for them on the dry beach. Here the Indians quickly tucked them in, and soon they were fast asleep—so fast that Sam declared when he heard the sharp call, “Lève! lève!” in the morning that he had not had time for even one sweet dream.

Quickly were the morning preparations made. The kettles were soon boiling and a hasty breakfast prepared. When this was eaten the Christian Indians asked Mr Hurlburt to take charge of their morning devotions. This he cheerfully did, and so, as was customary, the service was conducted in Cree and English.