They are most expert trappers and hunters of moose, and occasionally seek buffalo when they enter the skirts of the woods in severe winters. They are far better clothed and equipped than the Plains Indians, being able to obtain what they may require at the trading posts in exchange for furs. But they often suffer severely from starvation, as moose are now becoming scarce; while the Plains Crees, following the buffalo, seldom lack food, although they possess little marketable property wherewith to buy clothes and luxuries at the Forts. These Indians, as indeed all others we met with, managed their families admirably. An Indian child is seldom heard to cry, and matrimonial squabbles seem unknown. Our friend Keenamontiayoo was a most affectionate husband and father, and his wife and children obeyed him at a word, evidently looking up to him as a superior being, to be loved with respect.
Among the things which struck us when we became more extensively acquainted with the Indians, was the absence of deformity and baldness, or grey hair, amongst them. The former may no doubt be accounted for by the influence of “natural selection,” and perhaps the careful setting of the infants’ limbs in the “moss-bag,” or Indian cradle. This is a board with two side flaps of cloth, which lace together up the centre. The child is laid on its back on the board, packed with soft moss, and laced firmly down, with its arms to its side, and only its head at liberty. The cradle is slung on the back of the mother when travelling, or reared against a tree when resting in camp, the child being only occasionally released from its bondage for a few moments. The little prisoners are remarkably good; no squalling disturbs an Indian camp, and strict obedience is obtained without recourse to corporeal punishment.
On one occasion Kekekooarsis arrived in a state of great excitement from domestic troubles. He had sold one of his daughters in marriage—after the Indian fashion—for a horse, but his ungrateful son-in-law, after carrying off his bride, returned in the night and stole back the horse given in payment. Kekekooarsis, indignant at such behaviour, retaliated by secretly fetching his daughter home, and was now in considerable fear of the disappointed bridegroom, whom he anticipated might do him bodily injury, and begged us to give him shelter for the night, lest he should be waylaid on his return home in the dark. This we of course granted, but his apprehensions appeared to have been groundless, for the husband bore his loss with perfect indifference, and made no attempt to regain his wife.
On the 9th La Ronde returned, having found but little sign of game until a day’s journey distant, when marten tracks became tolerably plentiful, and he had set a few traps. On the following day the frost set in with great severity, and six inches of snow had fallen during the night. The men now set to work to construct a couple of horse sleighs, in readiness for a journey to the plains in search of fresh meat. Whilst they were thus engaged, we employed ourselves in supplying the larder, with Rover’s assistance, and rarely failed to bring in a supply of prairie grouse, wood partridges, and rabbits. The latter were very wary, and we saw so few that, until the snow fell, we had no idea that they were numerous. When the snow became deep, it was furrowed by their paths in all directions, and we caught them by placing snares across these runs.
With the exception of wolves and buffalo, wild animals of any kind are rarely seen in the Hudson’s Bay territories, unless they are carefully tracked up. They are so constantly hunted by the Indians, and whenever they encounter man are so invariably pursued, that they are ever on their guard, and escape unseen on the slightest alarm. It is only when the snow betrays their numerous footprints, that a novice can bring himself to believe there really is any four-footed game in the country.
The tracks of wolves and foxes were numerous on the lake, and the former regularly announced daybreak and sunset by a chorus of howls. Being somewhat afraid that our horses might be attacked by them, we set baits, poisoned with strychnine, at different points round the lake. The animals are so wary and suspicious, that they will not touch a bait lying exposed, or one which has been recently visited. It is necessary, therefore, to cover the enticing morsel carefully with snow, smoothing the surface evenly over it, and not approaching the place afterwards, unless a distant view shows that it has been dug out by a too hungry victim. The foxes especially are exceedingly cautious, frequently visiting the place for days and even weeks, marching round, but not daring to enter in and partake. For a long time we had no success; many of the baits were taken, and we tracked the animals for long distances, but the poison appeared to have had no effect. At last we were rewarded by finding an immense white wolf, the unusual size of whose footprints had rendered him a particular object of pursuit. He had a most magnificent skin, which was carefully preserved, and his carcass used as a means of destruction for his brethren. In a week all the large wolves were destroyed, and our horses considered safe for the winter.
When the sleighs were completed, La Ronde paid a rapid visit to his traps, returning in two days with a fisher and a few martens, and the following day he set out with Cheadle for the plains, taking two horses and sleighs to bring back the produce of their hunt. They were accompanied by an Indian boy—the son of the hunter, Keenamontiayoo—who brought a very diminutive horse, a two-year-old colt, the size of a Shetland pony, to carry his share of the spoils. Misquapamayoo, or “The thing one catches a glimpse of,” was an exceedingly active, clever youth of fourteen, with very large black eyes, and an open, merry face, very willing and obliging, and performing all his duties with the dignity and importance of a man. He became afterwards a devoted follower of ours, and did good service on many occasions, often amusing us by his insatiable curiosity and intense enjoyment of anything which seemed to him strange or ridiculous, falling into fits of laughter on the slightest provocation. During the absence of this party, Milton remained at home with Bruneau, to attend to the traps and take care of house and property. Being somewhat dissatisfied with Bruneau’s performance of his duties as housemaid and laundress, Milton took the opportunity afforded by the visit of an Indian and his squaw, to engage the latter for a general washing and house-cleaning. Although it was night when they arrived, the woman set to work immediately, diligently melting snow at a roaring fire for hours, and when about midnight she had obtained a sufficient supply of water, proceeded to scrub blankets and clothes. Milton expostulated, and suggested she should retire to rest, but in vain. The splashing and scrubbing went on without cessation, and sleep was impossible. At length Milton, driven to desperation, jumped out of bed, threw away all the water, and put out the fire. The squaw thereupon retired to rest in much astonishment, and for a time all was still. Presently, however, when she imagined Milton had fallen asleep, she quietly got up, and re-commenced her labours. The unhappy retainer of her services was fairly beaten, and compelled to resign himself to his fate, venting many maledictions on the untimely industry of his servant.
The hunting party meanwhile pursued their way to the plains, following an old Indian track to the south-west for about eighty miles. Passing through a hilly country, well wooded and watered, on the morning of the fourth day they reached the brow of a hill, whence they saw the prairie stretching away before them. La Ronde quickly detected five buffalo, grazing about a mile distant, and a camp was immediately made. After a hasty meal of dry pemmican—a fire being dispensed with for fear of frightening the game—they prepared for the hunt. The day was unusually warm, and in a weak moment La Ronde and Cheadle both divested themselves of leather shirt and capote before starting. After a great deal of dodging and crawling on hands and knees through the snow, they gained a point where, peering through a little patch of scrub, they saw the five bulls within twenty yards of them. La Ronde, in his excitement, hurriedly whispered instructions to Cheadle in a most unintelligible jargon of mingled French, English, and Cree. The latter, equally excited, and bewildered by directions he could not understand, hesitated to fire. La Ronde, in despair, stealthily raised his gun, when Cheadle, unwilling to be forestalled, raised his also, and in so doing incautiously protruded his head out of cover.
In an instant the whole band started off full speed, saluted, as they went, by an ineffectual volley at their sterns. Many were the mutual recriminations, and fiercely did La Ronde “sacré.” The buffalo were gone, no more to be seen, and small was the pemmican remaining in the camp. Far away in the distance the frightened bulls began to slacken their pace, and at last commenced slowly walking and feeding along. The only chance remaining was to try and come up with them again, and the disappointed hunters set off in pursuit at a run, carefully screening themselves from observation. After about two hours’ hard work, they succeeded in getting before them, and lying concealed in their path, killed two as they passed slowly by.
It was now nearly dark, and the party were three or four miles from camp. It was impossible to fetch the horses and sleighs, and carry the meat back that night, and if the carcasses were left, the wolves would pick the bones clean by morning. There was, therefore, no choice but to camp on the spot for the night. But little shelter could be found, and the only wood was a few dry poplar saplings.