Kepenau, he said, had sent but a small canoe, as we might thus more easily make our way up the stream, and pass the several portages we should have to go over.
I knew that Reuben would take delight in the excursion, so I hurried to the settlement to see if he could come. His father was very willing to give him leave, as it might turn his thoughts from the wilder and more dangerous adventures on which he was set. He had, some time before this, obtained a birch-bark canoe, which Kepenau, and sometimes Ashatea, had taught him how to use; and as he was constantly practising, he was by this time well able to employ his paddle. We obtained leave to take Mike Laffan with us, too; and thus, with the Indian, we made a party of four in the two canoes.
We carried our guns and axes and the usual woodmen’s knives, a pot and pan for cooking our meals, some tin cups, and a few small bales of cloths and coloured calicoes with which to pay the Indians for any peltries they might have to sell—for our expedition was on business as well as pleasure. We enjoyed the thoughts of it all the more on that account. We expected also to get some hunting, and to come back with a supply of dried venison, as well as some skins.
The Indian told us that his name was Kakaik, or the “Small Hawk;” he let us understand that he was a great hunter, but as he could speak no English, and as we understood but a few words of his language, we could not carry on much conversation with him. However, we managed to understand each other very well by means of signs.
The first part of the voyage was along the main river, with which we were well acquainted. We afterwards struck off up one of its tributaries, which varied greatly in width; sometimes it expanded into a lake-like form, and at other parts it contracted into narrow dimensions, where the current ran with great force, and we had hard work to stem it.
At length we reached a waterfall of nearly thirty feet in height, where the river rushed over the rocks and fell down perpendicularly in masses of foam. Kakaik made signs to us that we must land and carry our canoes for some distance through the wood. This is what is called making a “portage.” Accordingly we unloaded them, and piled up our goods at the foot of the fall. We then lifted the canoes out of the water; Kakaik taking one bottom upwards on his shoulders and walking off with it. Mike imitated his example, as one man could get between the trees better than two, and the canoes were so light that they could be carried with ease. Reuben, shouldering a portion of the goods, followed the Indian; and I, with another bale on my shoulders and the paddles and gun under my arm, kept close after Mike—leaving the remainder of the things for a second trip.
The ground was rough in the extreme, and it was some way up a steep bank among rocks. My fear was lest Mike should knock the canoe against the branches of the overhanging trees and make a hole in her bottom, so I sang out to him to be cautious.
“Faix! Masther Roger, it’s that same I intind to be,” he answered. “I have no fancy to walk all the way back again, or forward either, if this is the sort of ground we should have to pass over.”
We had to traverse a quarter of a mile or more till we saw the stream ahead of us, running placid as before. Kakaik, going down into the water, placed his canoe gently on the surface, and then helped to take Mike’s off his shoulders. The goods we had brought were next placed in them, and the Indian sat down on the bank to watch them while we went back for the remainder.
“Suppose some hostile Indians or prowling bear should have paid a visit to the landing-place, and carried off our property,” said Reuben.