Down the Mackenzie and up the Yukon in 1906

by Elihu Stewart

These visits were repeated frequently without the desired result. As one of the members expressed it, it was always to be done to-morrow, till finally, Sir John was given the name “Old To-morrow.”

Another individual who occupied a prominent government position in the early days, in the country west of Lake Superior was the late Simon J. Dawson, the originator of the Dawson route between Thunder Bay and the Red River of the North. He was known by every Indian between Fort William and Fort Garry and from his official position they regarded him practically as the government, and in fact it was not uncommon for them to call him “Government,” but he, too, earned from them a derisive name. Mr. Dawson was also a man of tact who lived up to the maxim that a “soft answer turneth away wrath.” The Indians were not slow in detecting this characteristic, and they humorously applied to him the name of “Old Smoothbore,” and it would have been impossible to choose a name that fitted his character so well.

At one time I had in my employ on the Saskatchewan River a number of men, some of whom were Indians. One day on the trail the Indians were conversing among themselves in the Cree language, and the word “Mooneas,” which really means greenhorn, was frequently repeated. One of the white men, a Canadian, could not restrain his curiosity, and inquired from one of the Indians who spoke English as to the meaning of the word. The reply came quickly with a chuckle “Canadian,” which was followed by a shout of laughter.

They are also quick to detect anything in an argument or discourse that to them does not seem logical. On one occasion a young clergyman arrived at Norway House, north-east of Lake Winnipeg where he became the guest of the agent of the post. The Indians were asked on Sunday morning to come into the big room for Divine service. Obedient to the invitation the Chief appeared with his people and listened attentively to the sermon which was made intelligible to them through an interpreter. The minister took for his text “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth.” After the return to the post the agent made bold to tell the young man that he thought his text rather inapplicable to his audience; that the hoarding up of treasures could scarcely be called the besetting sin of the native Indian, that in fact, his own efforts and also those of the company, were constantly exercised in urging them to provide for the morrow. The young man replied that this phase of the situation had not presented itself to him but that he would the following Sunday morning endeavour to correct the evident mistake. So on the next occasion before the same audience he prefaced his remarks by a few observations on his previous sermon by stating—that what he had previously said was not to be taken literally but figuratively; but when this reached the ears of the Chief through the interpreter it meant that what he had said the former Sunday was not true. Immediately this sermon was concluded the chief gathered his men around him and told them that this man told lies; that he had just told them that what he had said before was not true and that he did not want to hear him any more.

On a Sunday morning in summer at Fort Simpson, the Roman Catholic population of the little village were assembled at early mass in obedience to the call of the visiting priest he would be with them the following Sunday, and that he wished all his children to come prepared to contribute liberally to a special collection that would then be taken. On the following Saturday an Indian, or perhaps more properly a half breed, for though practically an Indian he had inherited sufficient French blood to entitle him to the name of Antoine, visited the priest and asked him to lend him two dollars in hard money (silver), stating that he would soon return it. The priest knowing that Antoine always had a good account at the Company’s store readily gave him the money. Antoine accompanied by his sweetheart was in attendance the next day at the service and astonished the congregation by ostentatiously drooping two dollars on the collection plate. Some time passed without Antoine offering to return the money. Finally, one day as the priest was preparing to leave on one of his periodical visits to other members of his flock he accidentally met Antoine and reminded him of the fact, to which the latter replied that he had already paid him in church. The priest informed that this money was not for him but for God. To this Antoine replied that God did not need the money, that he was rich, at the same time reminding the priest of a recent sermon of his, in which he had stated that where God lived all the streets were made of gold, and ended by advising the priest to keep the money and not be foolish.

It is a very noted characteristic of the Indian not to exhibit surprise under any circumstance. Whether this is owing to his indifference or whether it is an instance of his restraint born of his stoical nature I am unable to say.

I had a young man of the Ojibway tribe in my employ for a whole winter on one occasion. Fully fifteen years afterwards I requested the agent at a post of a Hudson’s Bay Company to engage an Indian with his canoe for me for a few days. On the following morning a middle-aged man appeared. He spoke fair English and conversed freely as we paddled around among the islands in the Lake of the Woods till noon when we went ashore and had lunch; after which we resumed work and continued till evening. On leaving for his camp he inquired if I wished him for the following day, to which I replied in the affirmative. On the following day at the noon hour I asked him his name. His reply was simply “John.” I told him I knew that, but asked for his full name to which his reply was “John Begg.” I told him that I had had a young man of that name many years before who worked several months for me on the Rainy River, and asked him if he knew him. His reply was simply “Was me.”

After this he talked very freely and recalled to my memory many incidents of the former period that I had almost forgotten, but I have little doubt that though he knew me from the start if I had not made the advance he would have left me without revealing his identity.

One other very similar case comes to my mind. When I was a boy, my father used to employ, at certain times of the year, Indians living on a reserve near by. Among these was a boy who spoke good English and who was known by and answered to the euphonious name of “Hickory Jackson.” For several successive summers he was almost a companion to my brother and myself. As time went on my place of residence was changed and probably twenty years after on visiting my old home I was taking a stroll along the banks of a very familiar stream in the dusk of a summer evening. The time and place served to call up many incidents of my early days. When absorbed in such reminiscences I barely noticed in the twilight the figure of an Indian with a boy walking behind him on the opposite side of the road, who, in a dull monotone uttered the words intended for me, “where you going,” and without halting passed on out of sight. This was “Hickory Jackson” whom I had not seen since I was a boy and never since. Though he manifested this indifference I have little doubt knowing his character that when he reached his wigwam this incident would be related to his family coupled with that of many others of past years.

There is to my mind something very fascinating in the contemplation of the characteristics, of the impulses and modes of thought, so to speak, of those members of the human family who have not come under the influence of civilised life where the Divine spark has had only nature for its tutor.