“Not much comfort you’ll get by-and-by, gentlemen, if you was not to do something more than you have done,” observed Stalker.
“What can that be?” asked Trevor.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” muttered Peter. “To my mind the houses are pretty comfortable for poor men, though not much for gentlemen like master and Mr Trevor.”
“I guess Jack Frost would pretty soon remind you when he comes,” observed Stalker, with a grin.
“Ma foi!” exclaimed Pierre Garoupe. “Monsieur Jaque Frost make his way through de key-hole.”
“Oh, how stupid—a fire-place!” I cried out.
“That’s it,” cried Stalker. “And now let’s set about it.”
I suggested that, instead of the ordinary clay of which fire-places are built, that ours should be constructed of stone of which there was no lack, in the shape of boulders, near the lake. These we collected in the carts, and by cementing them by mortar supported by a frame of wood outside, we formed a substantial fire-place and chimney suited for such a fire as we expected to require. By Stalker’s advice we sunk the floor three feet deep, and piled the earth we dug up outside; thus adding much to the warmth of our abode. A trench was also dug outside, at some little distance, to take off any water which, during a casual thaw, might be inclined to run in. Then, to keep off the wind—the primary object—any grizzlies which might be wandering our way, or any Indians who might prove hostile, we surrounded our whole station with a strong palisade, so that it was almost as strong as one of the Company’s Posts. Never sleep on the ground. To obviate that necessity we stuck some short posts into the ground, and on them formed a framework, over which we stretched some buffalo hides, and so got first-rate bedsteads. Trevor laughed at me for what he called my effeminacy, but I suggested that, after a hunting tramp of thirty or forty miles, we might not be sorry to turn into a comfortable bed. Our lads’ labour was stacking all the wood we had cut for burning, and then storing our goods and provisions. We put off making the furniture for our huts till we should be kept in by bad weather. A further supply of firewood could also be procured at any time after the snow covered the ground. Writers of romances make their heroes and heroines wonderfully independent of food and rest; but we, being ordinary mortals, were aware that we could not exist in comfort without a good supply of provisions, and Trevor and I therefore formed two parties of the men—one to remain in charge of the huts to fish, and to cure what they caught, besides trapping or shooting any animals; while the other was to accompany us in search of buffalo and any other game to be found.
Scarcely were our arrangements completed when the snow fell, and all nature assumed her wintry garb, not to be put off till the following spring.
Trevor and I, with John Stalker, Swiftfoot, and two other Indians, formed the hunting party. We first constructed four horse-sleighs to carry the flesh of the buffaloes we intended to kill, each dragged by a single horse. We were all mounted, also, on small, but active and hardy steeds, with our blankets, cloaks, tin-cups, pemmican, tea and sugar, and a few other articles, strapped to our saddles. We each had our rifles, axes, and hunting-knives, while an iron pot and a frying-pan were the only articles in our camp equipage. The snow, however thick, was no impediment to our horses in finding their food, for, without difficulty, they dug down through it with their noses till they reached the rich dry grass beneath, which seems, thus, in this apparently inhospitable region, to be preserved for their especial use. We found that horses, cattle, and pigs lived out through the winter without any charge being taken of them, except towards the end of spring, when an occasional thaw melts the surface of the snow, which, freezing again at night, forms so hard a crust that even their tough mouths cannot break through it.