Not long after this Firing Stony invited me to his tent, and as I approached the spot I became aware through my olfactory nerves that he had made a successful hunt at last, for certainly something that smelled good was boiling in that kettle. Before I really knew what it was, a thrill of joy went through my whole being. Right here I want the reader to know that I am not more epicurean than most humanity; but when you are always hungry for change of fare, or for food itself, you become very susceptible to the smell of good food cooking. "You are welcome," said mine host, and I answered, "What strange thing have you been about?" His wife answered, "He has gone and found a bear." Sure enough, presently there were dished up to me some delicious bear ribs. I ate what I could and took the rest home with me, as this was an Indian custom and exceedingly convenient at times. I will never in this life while memory lasts forget how delicious that fat bear-meat was.
It came out that my friend was tracking a moose, and in doing so came upon a bear's den and succeeded in killing the old one and two cubs. Next morning, taking my dogs, we went and brought in the rest of the meat, I getting half of it as my share, and the following day started early to intercept and follow up if possible the trail of the moose. But after hours of heavy snowshoeing and wading and crawling, we found that some wolves had run the moose away from us. Tired and disappointed, we reached home late that night.
About the end of March Indians began to straggle in, bringing little or no provisions, but glad to fall back with us on the food supply of the lake. It was about this time, when Francis and I were rushing the whip-sawing, that one day the boxing came off in my hands and the back of the saw split my nose and lips, cut my chin, and pretty nearly knocked my front teeth down my throat. Fortunately we had a supply of sticking plaster, and while I held the parts together in turn my wife deftly fastened them with the plaster. I was unable either to speak or to masticate my food for several days, and was forced to subsist on sucker broth. But I could continue my work at the sawing, and my wounds closed and healed in an extraordinarily short time, demonstrating the fact that after all what we called hard fare was really health producing.
I was but nicely over my painful wounds when Samson came in. His tent was hardly in place when I was invited over to have a meal with him. I had felt hungry all that winter, but the last few days of fish broth had intensified that feeling. Now here was what seemed to me a feast for a king—the tongue and boss of a fat buffalo, some pounded meat and marrow-fat, and the ham of a porcupine. Many a sumptuous repast have I since enjoyed in palatial homes, many a dining-car meal have I partaken of since that meal in my friend Samson's lodge, but of none of these have I such pleasant recollections as of this in the skin lodge, spread on newly cut spruce brush and served in homely style. Nevertheless, as Samson related his winter's experiences, and I listened and ate, this latter was done sparingly, for there were others to be thought of, and to these also such a spread would come as a heaven-send.
CHAPTER XXI.
Alternate feasting and fasting—We start out on a buffalo hunt—Old Paul brings down a fine moose—Providential provision—Enoch Crawler kills another moose—Magnificent landscapes—Entering the great treeless plains—Wonderful mirages—We come upon the tracks of buffalo—Our men shoot a huge grizzly—Charging a bunch of cows—A lively chase—Samson's plucky plunge over a bank after the buffalo—I chase and kill a fine cow—The camp busy killing and making provisions—Guarding against hostile Indians.
All through April and May we had quite a multitude around the Mission, feasting or fasting with us, as circumstances dictated. Sometimes the moving ice on the lake kept us for days at a time from visiting our nets, and then there was hunger in the camp. But again the ice moved out, and we were provided with food sufficient in quantity if not all we would like in quality. About the end of May, after putting our garden in shape, with a few families we started for the big plains and the summer ranges of the buffalo. During the past winter the buffalo kept far out and great destitution consequently ensued. Spring came and found the forts and Mission stations without the usual stock of pemmican and dried meat. There was no use of our looking for help from these sources; we must act for ourselves. I had talked the plain trip up among our people, but only a few would attempt it with us. Nevertheless, these few were picked men. There was old Paul and Samson, and Mark and his father and brother, and a Mountain Stony, Enoch Crawler by name, and Francis and myself. We counted ten men in all and two boys, besides the women and children. The most of our party struck straight for the first edge of the thick woods, while Francis and others went around to bring our carts from where we had left them the previous autumn.
We left the lake on Monday morning. Wednesday evening we were camped together a united party. Saturday afternoon we went into camp early, in order to give everyone a chance to do some hunting for Sunday. Our tents were pitched in a beautiful plain, by the shore of a stream called Pipe Stone. Thus far no large game had been killed. Rabbits and ducks and the few dried fish we had started with formed our food. Saturday evening I shot a brace of rabbits, and carrying them back to camp was surprised to find that nearly all the women had disappeared. Enquiring the reason, I was told that old Paul had killed a moose. Now, old Paul was our invalid. He could only by crawling or with crutches move in any way, and I was surprised that he of all our party should kill the moose. But presently my wife and the other women rode into camp bringing with them the most of old Paul's kill. The old man had crawled to the edge of a small lake to try and shoot some ducks, and while slowly approaching this had detected the splash of a large animal coming into the lake from the other side. He saw it was a moose, and taking in the lay of the country, he concluded that it would come out about where he was. Hastily seizing his gun-worm and fixing this to the ramrod he pulled out the charge of shot and put a ball in its place. Sure enough the old hunter's instinct had told him right, for presently the huge animal came out of the lake and through the fringing of the timber right up to where he lay. Old Paul's shot was straight and true, and our camp rejoiced in the prospect of moose steaks as a change of diet. As this came on the eve of the Sabbath, it was very significant to our simple faith as an evidence of the favor of Providence and an endorsation of our Sabbath observance.
Early Monday morning the tents were folded and we were on our way south-eastward. Wednesday we were given another moose, this time Enoch Crawler being the fortunate hunter. Quite a number of beaver were caught and shot during the week's travel, and on Saturday, as we camped at the last point of woods, we killed our first buffalo. Here we organized our number into two watches, five men and one boy in each, to keep guard alternate nights. We spent a part of Monday in cutting and peeling poles and laying in a stock of dry wood; for while our fuel for some time would consist almost wholly of buffalo chips, yet it was essential to carry wood to guard against storms. We were now entering the treeless plains of the great North-West.