The temporary fort was built on a low flat near the river. The permanent new fort was to be placed on a higher bench. I found that the site of Mountain Fort was about sixty miles from the real base of the mountains and on the north bank of the North Saskatchewan.
We spent a Sabbath at the fort. Father held services for both whites and Indians. In due time the marriage was solemnized, and the wedding supper eaten, and we began our return journey. As the cold had intensified there was no loitering by the way, and early the third day we were back at Edmonton. Sixty miles per day was not bad travelling in such hard weather. The last night we left camp about midnight. I wrapped father in his cariole and kept it right side up until we stopped for breakfast. The next day we started for Victoria, and camping once, arrived there early the second day, right glad to be at home once more.
CHAPTER XIV.
Home occupations—A course of lectures—Mark and Jimmie as raconteurs—Mark's success as a deer-killer—A buffalo chase on a dog-sled—Our first child is born—Chickens at eight shillings apiece!
The big open fire-places in the Mission house were delightful spots beside which to spend a few hours after a trip such as we had just concluded; but such was the extent of our moving circuit, and such our circumstances, that we could spare but very few hours at home. Many camps must be visited and many mouths must be fed. Mark and I and a lad named Jimmie Horn were kept pretty constantly on the move, now bringing in loads of fresh meat, and the next trip loads of dried provisions wherewith to make pemmican for summer use. We generally managed to keep Sunday in some Indian camp or at the Mission. If the former, the whole day was one continuous series of meetings. I would go from one chief's tent to that of another, and the respective followers would crowd the lodges while I did my best to tell the pagan and barbarous people the old, old story of Jesus and His love.
Many a night, at the close of a long day's run, I would give informal lectures on civilization and education, telling my eager listeners what Christianity was doing for man in other parts of the world; and all this time I was learning the language and studying the people. Old men and painted and feathered warriors and the youth of these camps crowded the lodges in which I made my temporary home. There was no rest while in Indian camps, and not until we were in our own seven-by-eight-foot hole in the snow, with wood cut and carried and piled at hand and dogs fed, would I sit down to rest both mind and body, and be free for a time from the inquisitive and eager listening and questionings of these people to whom we were sent. Then Mark and Jimmie would take their turn. Jimmie was a lad of nimble legs, but of much nimbler tongue. Had he not come from the famous Red River? He had even visited old Fort Garry, and he would fairly take Mark's breath as he drew from the range of his wide experience.
Mark would tell of the mountains, and grizzlies and panthers and avalanches, and encounters with the enemy, till Jimmie's eyes would bulge with excitement. I would look on and listen and rest. Then before retiring Mark would lead in prayer in his mother-tongue, which neither Jimmie nor myself could understand, though we always said "Amen."
During short intervals at the Mission Mark made several hunting excursions, and killed some moose and deer. One night he came home and reported one moose killed and another wounded. Early next morning we went out and killed the wounded moose and brought the meat of both home. Another time he killed two deer, and brought back word that the forest was so dense the meat would have to be packed to the river some miles above. Accordingly he and I took our dogs and drove up the river opposite to where the deer lay. Fastening the dogs, we struck into the forest, and coming across fresh tracks of more deer, we went after these and killed two more. It was midnight before we had packed the meat of the four deer to the place where our dogs and sleds were. Hard work it was, but the venison was good, and our larder was handsomely replenished.
All that winter the wood Cree camps were from one hundred to one hundred and fifty miles distant from the Mission. The buffalo kept out south of these camps, and sometimes were a long distance from them. But now that there was a regularly established post beside the Mission, trading parties and settlers and Indians kept passing to and fro, giving us comparatively good roads, and thus enabling us to travel quickly. Once well loaded with either dried provisions or fresh meat, we lost no time on the road.