Kasba (White Partridge): A Story of Hudson Bay

by George R. Ray

The day passed all too quickly for the little party, who, keenly alive to the changeableness of the weather at that time of the year, endeavored to push on with the greatest speed possible. With this end in view, only one short stop was made “to boil the kettle,” as the phrase goes. Beyond this there was no stopping, and each of the men was aware of sundry severe promptings from an empty stomach long before the approaching dusk compelled them to camp for the night.

At a word from Roy the guide selected a suitable spot, and the dogs were brought to a halt in a little bluff of trees. The place chosen was not an ideal one, for the brush was poor and dry wood scarce, but, as the men well knew, there was no better for some miles, and they lost no time in idle speculation or useless regrets. Silently, and with the skilful precision and dexterity of men well accustomed to the work, they went about their several duties, each to his own task, knowing what was expected of him. To Delgezie fell the task of “making camp.” Having picked a spot free from underwood and where there were no holes, he slipped off his snowshoes and using one as a spade proceeded to clear the ground of snow, while Roy, acting as the old man’s assistant, cut and brought suitable spruce trees which Delgezie “branched” as soon as he had cleared a space some ten feet square, strewing the small branches thickly over the uncovered ground, and at the same time making a three-sided barricade some four feet high out of the robbed trunks. The back of the camp was toward the wind, while the front, or open side of the square, was reserved for the fire.

The camp built, Roy stopped cutting “brush” and joined Minnihak in procuring “dry wood,” which Delgezie cut into lengths as soon as brought.

Then the trader and the Chipewyan turned their attention to the dogs, which were unharnessed, tied to adjacent trees and bedded down with brush. A terrific clamoring ensued, for long experience told the dogs that these acts betokened the feeding hour. Four pounds of venison were now thrown to each of them, as a reward for the faithful efforts of the day, and on a tree near by a bag containing a night’s feed for men and dogs was cached for the return journey. Thus the com-it-uks were lightened by many pounds’ weight the first day out.

By this time Minnihak had a fire blazing fiercely and throwing its glare all about them, making the camp appear a comfortable haven indeed, as compared to the cold, bleak surroundings, and Roy and Delgezie stepped into its warm radius and knocked the snow from their moccasins and trousers with their thick deerskin mittens, smiling the pleased smile of weary men satisfied.

The duties of cook fell upon the guide, Minnihak, according to the rules of tripping. But although the Eskimo had acquired the elements of civilization he was sadly remiss in the nicer details of cleanliness, which made his services in that capacity quite undesirable. Therefore Delgezie cooked the food, while Minnihak carried out the more menial labors of cook’s mate, in pursuance of which he had already gone to a near-by river and brought back several large blocks of ice for the kettle, and these lay ready to the cook’s hand, glistening in the firelight.

Supper over, the men gave themselves up to a few minutes’ smoke and reverie—the most delightful time of the tripper’s day—and their thoughts naturally turned to sleep. Delgezie, who always held prayer before retiring, began a hymn, which he sang alone, for Roy was unable to follow the old man’s peculiar intonation, and Minnihak was ignorant of both language and tune.

In a reverie Roy’s gaze wandered from the bright glow of the fire, through the few sparse spruce trees and out to the cold, desolate region beyond. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating the surrounding solitude which stretched into the far distance on either side like a terrestrial eternity, having no visible beginning or end.

With a shudder of awe at the weird grandeur, profound silence, and magnitude of the scene, Roy realized himself an insignificant atom in God’s great plan of creation, and his eyes, following the bent of his thoughts, instinctively sought the heavens, where they discovered a magnificent lunar halo, a white corona with a pale-hued edge completely encircling the moon.

Withdrawing his gaze from this beautiful phenomenon as Delgezie fell on his knees to pray, Roy whipped off his cap and stood with head reverently bowed while the old man stumbled through the General Confession. At the words “Nota Yaka Thenda Nese” (Our Father, etc.), Roy repeated the prayer with such fervor as to cause the Eskimo to look up in astonishment.