There was now more meat than we required at present, and the cache was therefore left undisturbed, some given in charge of Gaytchi Mohkamarn, and a small sleigh and two dogs hired in addition to the two brought to carry the rest. These were loaded with all they could carry, and the homeward journey commenced. The track was tolerably good, but the travelling very tedious, on account of the heavy loads. One of the dogs in the borrowed sleigh was the skeleton belonging to the hideous Indian; but it soon appeared he was too weak to carry even himself with ease, and was therefore dismissed by the Hunter, and a puppy harnessed in his place, who pulled well, but ceased not to howl until released from his bonds at the end of the day. The work was hard for all, each having a sleigh to look after, and the upsets being more frequent than ever. The firm path formed by the beating down of the snow was now a considerable height above the ground, like a rail the width of a sleigh, running along in the soft, floury powder at the sides. At the turns, or on hill-sides, the sleighs were apt to slip off and upset, and required great strength and greater patience to replace them on the “line.”
In going down hills it was necessary for the driver to lie face downwards on the sleigh, with legs projecting behind, and act as a drag by digging his toes into the snow as hard as he could, thus also guiding it in the descent. At one very steep place, a descent of several hundred yards into a lake below, Cheadle’s train got over the brow before he could get up to act as drag. Away went the sleigh, overriding the dogs, the whole rolling over and over in a long succession of somersaults, until they reached the bottom, where the dogs lay helpless, entangled in the harness and held down by the heavy sleigh, which seemed as if it must have broken every bone in their bodies, as it thumped upon them in their headlong fall. They were none the worse, however, although it took a very long time to disentangle them, and put them all right on the track again. The day’s journey was attended by a constant succession of difficulties and disasters; the snow was deep, the loads heavy, the dogs weak and obstinate, cunningly taking advantage of every opportunity to shirk, refusing to pull when it was most required, and showing wonderful speed and alacrity, rushing off with the heavy sleigh when the distracted driver came near to punish. Of all things in the world calculated to ruffle the most even temper, driving a worthless train of Indian dogs stands unequalled. It may be doubted whether the most rigidly pious evangelical would be able to preserve his equanimity, or keep his lips free from language unbecoming his profession, under circumstances trying almost beyond human endurance; and indeed it is said that one of the missionaries on the Saskatchewan, a most worthy and pious man, when travelling with some of his flock in the winter, astonished and horrified his companions by suddenly giving vent, in his distraction, to most dreadful anathemas against his dogs. They were lying coolly down in the most aggravating manner, with their heads turned round narrowly watching him, but without making the smallest effort to help themselves and him out of the difficulty into which they had fallen.
After three days of this more than usually harassing work, the party found themselves at dusk about fifteen miles from La Belle Prairie. Finding no suitable camping ground at the moment, they went forward until night had quite closed in. A young moon, already nearly down, lighted the travellers for a time. Cheadle’s sleigh led the way, and he continued on until the moon disappeared and it became very dark. Yet still Shushu, the leading dog, showed no hesitation, and kept the track unerringly, although it was drifted up level and almost imperceptible to the eye, even in broad daylight. The only means of judging the line of the path was by the feel of the firm footing beneath the snow-shoes, contrasted with the light, powdery mass on either side. Cheadle perceiving the sagacity of the dog was equal to the occasion, determined to reach the hut that night, and hour after hour kept steadily on, followed by the two Indians with their trains, wondering why the “Okey Mow” would not camp. It became at last so dark that the drivers could not see the dogs before them, but merely followed glimpses of the retreating sleighs. Shushu, however, went faster and faster as he neared home, and made but one mistake, overturning the sleigh in a deep snow drift on the banks of the river Crochet, within half a mile of the hut. But this delayed them some time, for they had to sound the snow with poles for the lost line of road, which was so deeply overlaid with drift snow that it was little disgrace to Shushu to lose it there. At last the sleighs were put on the “line of rail” again, and in a few minutes a light streaming from the little parchment window of Fort Milton greeted the eyes of the jaded voyageurs. They were received by Milton with vast delight, for he had spent the last few days there alone, waiting anxiously for the return of the expedition, which had been absent twelve days. Being now tolerably supplied with meat, we both remained at home, hoping daily for the return of our men from Red River. Two months had elapsed since their departure, the time they had estimated would be required for the journey; but we of course anticipated that they would somewhat exceed this.
We employed ourselves in shooting and trapping in the immediate neighbourhood, and were occasionally visited by the Hunter and Misquapamayoo, who failed not to bring us a good supply of moose-meat whenever they were fortunate enough to kill one. This was a most delightful relief to our staple of tough buffalo bull, and the only food we possessed, except some of Chollet’s desiccated vegetables, brought out only on the great feast days. Household cares occupied much of our time. Milton presided over the culinary department, in which he displayed great skill and ingenuity, severely taxed to make a variety of dishes out of such limited resources, while Cheadle was hewer of wood and drawer of water, or rather melter of snow and ice.
We got on tolerably well for a length of time; but at last our small dwelling became so choked up by the accumulation of chips, wood, and débris of various kinds, and so disorderly by reason of our untidy habit of leaving every article where last used, instead of restoring it to its proper place, that our domestic duties were seriously impeded. We resolved to institute a new order of things, commencing by a regular “spring cleaning” and tidying. The sweeping out involved a difficulty, since we had no brush, and the level of the floor was some two feet lower than the ground outside. However, we improvised besoms of pine boughs, and for dust-pans used the tin dinner plates. Our labours were frequently interrupted by fits of laughter at the ludicrous appearance we presented, down on our hands and knees, grubbing up the waste and dust with our primitive contrivances. The result was most satisfactory, and we viewed with the greatest complacency the improved condition of our establishment, which now presented a most comfortable and orderly appearance.
Our triumphs were not confined, however, to the housemaid’s department. Some months before, Treemiss had kindly presented us with a few currants and raisins wherewith to make a Christmas pudding. From a modest distrust of his own skill, Milton had hitherto hesitated to attempt so high a flight; but encouraged by a series of successes in the savoury branch of the culinary art, and urged by the eager solicitations of Cheadle, he at length consented to attempt a plum pudding.
Having discovered, some time before, that the fruit was rapidly diminishing in quantity in an inexplicable manner, Cheadle had taken the precaution of securing it, together with a modicum of flour and sugar, in his strong box. This likewise contained stores of powder, shot, caps, tobacco, soap, and various etceteras. When the materials for the pudding were sought, it was found that they had escaped from the paper in which they had been enclosed, and were scattered about at the bottom of the box, mixed with loose shot, caps, fragments of tobacco, and other heterogeneous substances.
After eliminating all foreign bodies as carefully as possible, the pudding was duly mixed, tied up in the cloth after the established manner, and placed in the pot. Many a time was it taken out and its state examined by point of fork before it was at last—after boiling nearly all day—pronounced thoroughly cooked. We had a brace of prairie chickens also, but all interest was centred in the pudding. No one who has not been restricted entirely to one species of food for a long time can form any idea of the greedy eyes with which we viewed that plum pudding. It proved delicious beyond all anticipation, in spite of certain drawbacks in the shape of caps, buck-shot, and fragments of tobacco, which we discovered in it. We had fondly hoped to finish it at a sitting, but it was a very Brobdingnagian pudding, and we were reluctantly compelled to leave a portion unconsumed. We passed the night somewhat restlessly, partly caused perhaps by the indigestible character of our evening meal, but principally from impatience for the morning to arrive, that we might repeat the delights of the previous evening. When day began to break, each watched the movements of the other with anxious distrust, and before it was fairly light both jumped out of bed at the same moment, each fearful he might lose his share of the delicious breakfast. Never did schoolboy view with such sincere regret the disappearance of his last morsel of cake, as we did when sighing over the last mouthful of that unequalled pudding.
The time wore on monotonously. The beginning of March had arrived, and still La Ronde and Bruneau had not returned. Our solitude was occasionally enlivened by visits of Indians—invariably starving—who seriously impoverished our scanty larder. Rover also assisted us to while away some of the dreary long winter evenings, which we partly devoted to teaching him various additional accomplishments. His performances were an unfailing source of wonder and delight to our Indian visitors, who never tired of watching him stand on his head, walk about on his hind legs, or sit up in begging attitude. But one of his feats elicited loud “wah! wahs!” and “aiwarkakens!” their expressions of astonishment. This was watching a piece of meat placed on the floor, or sitting with it balanced on his nose. They could not understand how a dog could be taught to refrain from seizing it at once, instead of waiting for the word of command. Their own dogs, being never fed except when at work, are always so lean and ravenously hungry, that they steal everything they can get at. When meat is being cut up, the squaw keeps a huge stick ready to her hand, with which she thwacks unmercifully the starving curs, which seize every opportunity of abstracting a morsel unperceived.
During this period the only civilised person who visited us was Mr. Tait, a half-breed in the Company’s service at Carlton, who came over in a dog cariole, to collect furs from the Indians in our neighbourhood. He brought us a few cakes and potatoes, luxuries we had not tasted for many weeks. From him we learnt that almost everywhere there had been great scarcity of food. At the Fort at Egg Lake the people had been obliged to boil down buffalo hides for subsistence. Two men, sent over to the nearest port, Touchwood Hills, for succour, arrived almost dead with famine; but there they found the inmates at the last extremity, and unable to afford them any assistance. At Fort La Come the men had been half-starved for a long time; and even at Carlton the hunters were sent out so scantily provided, that they were driven to eating their dogs on the way. We considered ourselves very fortunate in having escaped so well from the general dearth.