After a hurried breakfast, at daybreak we started on our respective courses. My party of three and the dog had not got far when we came to a broad stream, which it was necessary to cross. We quickly made a small raft, on which two persons could sit with a portion of our goods; we had a long line secured to it, so that the raft could be dragged backwards and forwards, while the horses swam across. Gaby and I crossed first, and I found the water deeper than I expected. Not without some difficulty did we reach the opposite bank in time to help up the horses, and to keep them together till their cargoes were again ready for them. Peter then drew back the raft, and embarked on it with the remainder of our provisions. He poled on the raft tolerably well till he got into the middle of the stream, when, by some means, the lad’s foot slipped, and overboard he went, letting go his pole. He was but a poor swimmer, and his destruction seemed certain, unless I could manage to get him out. I was throwing off my clothes to plunge in to his rescue, when I saw that the raft had swung round and that he had happily caught hold of it. I did not, however, at first observe that the rope had snapped, or got loose from its fastening, and that the raft was drifting rapidly down the stream. After a while he got up and seated himself composedly on it, wondering apparently what next would happen. It took a good deal to put him out. As soon as I discovered that the raft was really adrift, I ran along the bank, hoping that the current would send it in either on one side or the other, but instead of that it kept steadily in the middle, and as I looked ahead, I saw that precipitous rocks formed the banks, over which it would not be possible to scramble. Peter, too, turned round, and now, for the first time it seemed, comprehended his danger. He held out his hands imploringly towards me, crying out, “Oh, sir, oh, sir!—pray save me, save me!” The water was icy-cold, from the rapidly melting snow, and I had some reasonable dread of cramp. Still I was about to run every risk to save the poor lad, when I bethought me that Ready, who had crossed with me, would lend his aid. I told Peter to call him, and beckoned the dog to go towards the raft. After a little hesitation, and a few sharp barks, as if he was not quite certain what I wanted him to do, he plunged boldly in and swam towards the raft.
Peter had meantime hauled in the slack of the rope, and coiled it neatly down on the raft. Ready swam quickly up to the raft. He seemed clearly to comprehend the object of his enterprise, and opening his mouth to receive the end of the rope, which Peter put into it, swam triumphantly back towards the shore. I gave him an approving pat, as he landed, and taking the rope, with Gaby’s aid, I began to haul the raft towards the land. At length I got it safely to shore, where we landed the freight, and securing the raft, ready for our return, we pushed on towards the south. We encamped at night by the side of the river, which we believed ran into the Thompson.
As we sat round our camp fire, I became better acquainted with Mr Gaby and the very high opinion which he entertained of his own talents and powers. He informed me that he intended to settle in British Columbia, as he hoped to rise to the highest position if he did.
“I guess your Queen will be a lucky woman if she gets me as her subject to manage her affairs out here. I’m in no wise prejudiced. I’m a free and independent citizen of the greatest republic the world ever knew; but nevertheless I’m ready to give my services to any one who is able and willing to pay me properly.”
Chapter Twenty One.
The Thompson River—Our Parties re-unite—Hippophagous Stores—Indian Revenge—We build a Raft and two Canoes—The Rapids, and our Dangers—Indians in Ambush.
We had reached the banks of the Thompson, and were contemplating the possibility of descending it on a raft, when Stalker arrived and informed us that he had met an Indian who told him that, though we might possibly cut our way through the forest, we should find it a very arduous undertaking; that we might descend the Thompson by water, but that there were some fierce rapids on the way, into which, if we once plunged, we should inevitably be lost, and that we should in a much shorter time reach Cariboo if we went down the Frazer than by any other way. I agreed to his suggestion, though I still held to the opinion that one of the shortest roads from Red River to New Westminster will be found by the way we came and down the Thompson, and that with the aid of small steamers and ferry boats, and a gang of navvies and lumberers, it might speedily be made practicable. Yet, as we wished to get to Cariboo, we followed the Indian’s advice.