It was while rushing this work that a small party of Chippewyans from the north were looking on as we worked, and speculating as to who I was. Was he a Hudson's Bay Company clerk, a free trader, or a traveller bent on sport? "Who is this fellow, anyway?" was the question which engaged their attention just then. Presently the "Solon" of the party, doubtless wishing to evidence the fact that the East had not a monopoly of wisdom, said, "I will tell you what he is," and stepping up to me he offered to shake hands, and in doing so, turned up the palm of my hand and saw the marks of blisters, for I had been working hard. Seeing the condition of my hand, he turned to his fellows and said, "He is only a common fellow." Like many another man who lives under more favorable conditions, his judgment of men was peculiar.
Early the next day we were on the road westward, and with incidents no more exciting than breaking axles and splitting felloes and snapping dowel-pins and handling balky horses, and in my own case fighting a wretched toothache, we very soon rolled into the valley at Victoria, and were complimented by my father on having made an uncommonly quick trip.
We remained at Victoria until the Hudson's Bay Company brought along father's outfit. Helping in all matters around the Mission kept us busy with hands and head and heart. While we were at Victoria my eldest sister, Eliza, was married to Richard Hardisty, of the Hudson's Bay Company's service, who was then in charge of the Mountain House. Immediately after the marriage they and Nellie, one of my younger sisters, started on their long overland trip to the distant trading-post. Some of us accompanied them out for a few miles, enjoying some good shooting by the way, for the fowl were now starting south. Hardisty and Philip Tait, another Hudson's Bay Company officer, challenged my brother David and myself as to size and quality of our several hunts, and we kept about even up to almost the last minute, when David and I luckily saw a flock of geese light in a shallow swamp at some distance from us. There was no cover whatever to aid our approach, so I said to David, "Let us separate and charge that swamp at full speed from two sides. Perhaps we will bamboozle those geese by so doing." This we proceeded to do, and urging our steeds to full speed, we came upon the birds so suddenly that they did not know what to do. When they rose on David's side he knocked two down; that sent them over to me, and I was equally successful, so that we were thus put four birds ahead of our competitors. This sport gave us a good time in giving our newly-married friends a "send-off" on their honeymoon trip. Away up at the foot of the Rockies, among the wild tribes of the mountains, my sisters were to make their home for a time; but we all had great faith in our new brother, so we wished them a hearty God-speed and returned to Victoria. When the goods came, father helped us all he could, and we soon were on the way back to Pigeon Lake. As I hoped to build a small church, I took with me an English half-breed, Francis Whitford by name, a handy fellow with an axe and saw, to aid in the building operations.
It was now late in September, and we had a house to build for my man, and a stable for a couple of oxen I had secured and for the calf, whose mother we found had committed suicide while we were away! The foolish old thing had started off in search of a mate, and despairing of finding one, went into a miry lake some thirty-five miles from home and there died.
And now that our Mission was permanently established, the Indians came from long distances to sojourn for a little time with us, to attend our meetings and listen to our message. Stonies and Crees and mixed bloods, pagan and Roman Catholic and Protestant, all came to us and were eager to learn. We were busy all day long and on into the night, when by the light of the camp or chimney fire we preached and lectured and sang and prayed, till out of the old life and old faith men and women came into the light of the Gospel and into the life that is born of the kingdom of Christ.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Father visits our Mission—A dream that proved a portent—Drowning of Mr. Connor—"Straight fish" diet—We are visited by a war party of Crees—I am given a problem to solve—Francis and I set out to seek fresh provisions—Feasting on fat bear steaks—A lonely Christmas—Mr. Hardisty visits us—We in turn visit Mountain House—A hard winter in the Saskatchewan country—Rations on short allowance—A run to Victoria—David and I have a hard experience—Father and mother as "good Samaritans."
During the autumn father visited our Mission, and as a large camp of Stonies had gone westward, among whom there were children to be baptized and couples to be married, I prevailed upon him to follow them up. Accordingly we set out on their trail, and after two days of steady travel, during which we made a considerable detour, we came up to them at Buck Lake. We spent a day and night with them, father marrying several couples and baptizing some children. On our way back father had a strange dream, which he related to me the next morning as we rode along. It was to the effect that Mr. Connor, who had returned from Ontario and gone into Lac la Biche to trade for the winter, was drowned. Father said he could not shake off the spirit of depression which the dream had created in his mind. Reaching Edmonton, he met the word that Mr. Connor was drowned, and, strangely enough, this had occurred at the time we were camping between Buck and Pigeon lakes. Readers of "SADDLE, SLED AND SNOWSHOE" will remember Mr. Connor as the gentleman who travelled with my party across the plains in 1864.
Cutting and hauling timber, building a stable, whip-sawing lumber, making dog-sleds and horse-sleds, and fishing entailed an immense amount of work as winter came on. We made new nets and mended our old ones, built stagings and hung the fish until the real cold weather set in, when we froze them on the ice and then packed our catch. But while the fish were plentiful, they were of a very poor quality, both wormy and lean, so that out of hundreds a very small percentage was fit to eat. It was a case of over-production. Later, when some scores of thousands had been caught, there was a very perceptible improvement in quality; but that took years to accomplish.