Sometime after my return from Montreal in the autumn of 1830, I went to pay a visit to one of my customers whose lands were at a considerable distance. I was accompanied by one man in a small canoe; and as it was necessary that one of us should carry the canoe over the portages, and the other the property, I chose the former, being the lightest though by far the most inconvenient load. I found it very oppressive at first, but use rendered it more easy. This was the first time I carried a canoe.
On our return from the Indian's camp we met with rather a disagreeable accident, while ascending a small and very rapid river. In pushing forward the canoe against the stream, my pole happened to glance off a stone, and the canoe swinging round came in contact with the trunk of a tree projecting from the bank, and we, or at least I, was upset in an instant. Fortunately the current, though strong, was smooth and free from whirlpools; so that, after swimming down a short distance in search of a landing-place, I rejoined my companion, whom I found standing on the bank perfectly dry. On inquiring of him how he happened to avoid a ducking, he told me he sprang ashore while I was attempting to parry off the tree; doubtless his having done so was in a great measure the cause of the accident. He, however, acted a very prudent part after landing, having caught hold of the canoe in the act of upsetting, and thus preserved the goods from being lost or damaged.
In the course of this year, the Iroquois and Algonquins were nearly coming to blows on account of the hunting-grounds. This quarrel originated from a speech which Colonel McKay, then at the head of the Indian department, had addressed to the Iroquois, in which, making use of the metaphorical language of the people, he observed that Indians of all tribes ought to live together in the utmost concord and amity, seeing they inhabited the same villages, "and ate out of the same dish." This the Iroquois interpreted in a way more suitable to their own wishes than consistent with its real meaning. "Our father," said they, "tells us we eat out of the same dish with the Algonquins;—he means that we have an equal right to the hunting-grounds." They proceeded, accordingly, to avail themselves of the supposed privilege. The consequence was a very violent quarrel, in which Government was ultimately obliged to interfere.
The Indians informed us, this spring, of a dreadful murder that had been committed in the early part of the winter by some of the natives of Hudson's Bay. The particulars of this tale of blood I since learned from an individual that escaped from the massacre. The Indians attached to the posts established along the shores of Hudson's Bay are comparatively civilized; most of them speak English, and are employed as voyageurs by the Company. Few or no precautions are taken at these posts to guard against treachery; the gates are seldom shut, and some of the posts are destitute of palisades or defence of any kind. Of this description was the post where the catastrophe occurred which I am about to relate.
The post of Hannah Bay is situated about sixty miles to the north of Moose Factory, and was at this time under the charge of a Mr. Corrigal. His establishment consisted of two or three half-breeds, and an Indian who had been brought up by the whites. He and some of the men had families. In the course of the winter five Indians came in with their "hunts," and agreeably to their usual practice encamped close by. Those Indians are designated "Home Guards,"—a term generally applied to the Indians attached to a trading post; they hunt in winter at a convenient distance from the post, and are employed in summer as voyageurs, or in performing any other necessary duty. Notwithstanding their thus being frequently in company with white men and Christians, they still retain many of the barbarous habits, and much of the superstitious belief of their forefathers, aggravated, I regret to say, by some of the vices of the whites.
Among the number of those just mentioned was an individual who had acquired considerable influence among his tribe, from his pretending to be skilled in the art of divination. This man told his fellows that he had had a communication from the Great Spirit, who assured him that he would become the greatest man in Hudson's Bay if he only followed the course prescribed to him, which was, first, to cut off their own trading post, and then with the spoil got there to hire other Indians, who should assist in destroying all the other posts the Company possessed in the country. Accordingly, it was determined to carry their design into execution, whenever a favourable opportunity occurred. This was not long in presenting itself. They came one day to the establishment, and told the people that the "man of medicine" had come for the purpose of performing some extraordinary feat that would astonish them all. The silly creatures believed the story, and went to the borders of the lake, where they observed the sorcerer showing off a variety of antics very much to their amusement. The conspirators, seeing this part of the stratagem succeed, rushed into the house, and immediately despatched Mr. Corrigal and his family. The men, hearing the report of the guns, hastened back towards the house. The two that first arrived were saluted by a volley of balls; the one fell dead, the other fled. The third, seeing what had happened, seized his youngest child, and also fled. The murderers pursued. The poor fellow, encumbered by the weight of his child, necessarily fell behind. A ball from the pursuers killed the child, and wounded him in the hand. Dropping, then, the lifeless body, he soon came up with his fellow, and both escaped without further injury.
It was about noon when they began their flight. One of them reached Moose Factory next day about noon, the other soon after. The distance—nearly sixty miles—travelled in so short a space of time, may appear incredible; but fear gave them wings, they fled for their lives and never halted. One of them, my informant, lost all the toes of one of his feet by the frost.
Measures were immediately adopted to frustrate the further diabolical designs of the Indians, as well as to avenge the innocent blood that had been shed. Messengers were despatched with all possible haste to Rupert's house, the nearest post, to give the alarm, and a party of men, under an efficient leader, was sent to seize the murderers. This expedition, however, proved unsuccessful, as the Indians could not be found in that direction; but, in the meantime, two of them who had come to Rupert's house to "spy the land," were seized and sent bound to Moose Factory, and one of them was compelled to act as guide to another party. Led by him, they approached the camp without being perceived, and found the "man of medicine" sitting very composedly in his tent, surrounded by the spoils he had taken from the fort. He was secured, and the rest of his associates, who were absent hunting, were soon "tracked," and secured likewise. They then all underwent the punishment they deserved.
The fort presented a horrible spectacle. Men, women, and children shared the same fate, and the mangled limbs of their victims were scattered among the articles of property which the wretches, not being able to carry off with them, had attempted to destroy.