Chapter Ten.
Tanning—The prairie on fire—“Hillo! Pat Casey! What! don’t you remember us?”—Pat’s marvellous adventures and hairbreadth escapes—Vegetable diet—Pat’s hut—Martin’s danger—Alick’s noble conduct—“He is still alive,” cried Alick—Our wigwam—Two men sick in the camp—Indian summer—Snow again—Winter has set in—Wattap nets—Fishing through the ice—Roast fish and boiled fish.
As the wind continued blowing with great force, we saw that there was no prospect of our continuing our voyage that day. We therefore made preparations for camping as usual.
Martin suggested that we should employ the time in drying some of the venison, which could not possibly last till it was all consumed. He advised also that we should try to manufacture some pemmican, which, though not equal to that of buffalo, would make nutritious food. We were thus busily employed for the remainder of the day. Alick, too, who wished to prepare the deerskins, stretched them out with pegs on the bank. We then carefully scraped them over, and having boiled some wood ashes in water, we washed them thoroughly with it. This we did twice before dark, leaving them to dry during the night.
“I hope no grasshoppers will come this way,” observed Alick, laughing, while we were afterwards seated at supper.
As I looked round on the river, my eye caught a bright glare reflected on it.
“That light comes from a fire somewhere, and not far off,” I exclaimed; and, springing to my feet, I made my way up to the top of the bank, which was somewhat higher than the country farther off.
There were but few trees, so that I had an uninterrupted view to the southward.
There was a fire indeed, and such a fire as I had never before seen. About half a mile off appeared what looked like a vast burning lake, about a mile in width, and extending to a much greater distance.
Presently, beyond it, another began to blaze up, increasing with terrible rapidity; and, farther off, a third bright light was seen, which also began quickly to extend itself. I have never seen a volcano in full activity; but this, I think, must have surpassed in grandeur the most terrible eruption. The flames rose up to an extraordinary height, rushing over the ground at the speed of racehorses, and devouring every tree and shrub in their course. The wind being from the north-east blew it away from us; but we saw how fearful would have been our doom, had we been on foot travelling across that part of the country. We should have had no chance of escape, for the intervals which at first existed between these lakes of fire quickly filled up.