The Young Fur Traders

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As Charley sat resting his head on his hand, and listening to the
soft hiss that the ripples made upon the beach, he felt all the
solemnising influence that steals irresistibly over the mind as we
sit on a still night gazing out upon the moonlit sea. His thoughts
were sad; for he thought of Kate, and his mother and father, and the
home he was now leaving. He remembered all that he had ever done to
injure or annoy the dear ones he was leaving; and it is strange how
much alive our consciences become when we are unexpectedly or
suddenly removed from those with whom we have lived and held daily
intercourse. How bitterly we reproach ourselves for harsh words,
unkind actions; and how intensely we long for one word more with
them, one fervent embrace, to prove at once that all we have ever
said or done was not _meant_ ill, and, at any rate, is deeply,
sincerely repented of now! As Charley looked up into the starry sky,
his mind recurred to the parting words of Mr. Addison. With uplifted
hands and a full heart, he prayed that God would bless, for Jesus'
sake, the beloved ones in Red River, but especially Kate; for whether
he prayed or meditated, Charley's thoughts _always_ ended with Kate.

A black cloud passed across the moon, and reminded him that but a few
hours of the night remained; so hastening up to the camp again, he
lay gently down beside his friend, and drew the green blanket over
him.

In the camp all was silent. The men had chosen their several beds
according to fancy, under the shadow of a bush or tree. The fires had
burned low--so low that it was with difficulty Charley, as he lay,
could discern the recumbent forms of the men, whose presence was
indicated by the deep, soft, regular breathing of tired but, healthy
constitutions. Sometimes a stray moonbeam shot through the leaves and
branches, and cast a ghost-like, flickering light over the scene,
which ever and anon was rendered more mysterious by a red flare of
the fire as an ember fell, blazed up for an instant, and left all
shrouded in greater darkness than before.

At first Charley continued his sad thoughts, staring all the while at
the red embers of the expiring fire; but soon his eyes began to
blink, and the stumps of trees began to assume the form of voyageurs,
and voyageurs to look like stumps of trees. Then a moonbeam darted
in, and Mr. Addison stood on the other side of the fire. At this
sight Charley started, and Mr. Addison disappeared, while the boy
smiled to think how he had been dreaming while only half asleep. Then
Kate appeared, and seemed to smile on him; but another ember fell,
and another red flame sprang up, and put her to flight too. Then a
low sigh of wind rustled through the branches, and Charley felt sure
that he saw Kate again coming through the woods, singing the low,
soft tune that she was so fond of singing, because it was his own
favourite air. But soon the air ceased; the fire faded away; so did
the trees, and the sleeping voyageurs; Kate last of all dissolved,
and Charley sank into a deep, untroubled slumber.

CHAPTER X.

Varieties, vexations, and vicissitudes.

Life is checkered--there is no doubt about that; whatever doubts a
man may entertain upon other subjects, he can have none upon this, we
feel quite certain. In fact, so true is it that we would not for a
moment have drawn the reader's attention to it here, were it not that
our experience of life in the backwoods corroborates the truth; and
truth, however well corroborated, is none the worse of getting a
little additional testimony now and then in this sceptical
generation.

Life is checkered, then, undoubtedly. And life in the backwoods
strengthens the proverb, for it is a peculiarly striking and
remarkable specimen of life's variegated character.

There is a difference between sailing smoothly along the shores of
Lake Winnipeg with favouring breezes, and being tossed on its surging
billows by the howling of a nor'-west wind, that threatens
destruction to the boat, or forces it to seek shelter on the shore.
This difference is one of the checkered scenes of which we write, and
one that was experienced by the brigade more than once during its
passage across the lake.

Since we are dealing in truisms, it may not, perhaps, be out of place
here to say that going to bed at night is not by any means getting up
in the morning; at least so several of our friends found to be the
case when the deep sonorous voice of Louis Peltier sounded through
the camp on the following morning, just as a very faint, scarcely
perceptible, light tinged the eastern sky.

"Leve, leve, leve!" he cried, "leve, leve, mes enfants!"

Some of Louis's _infants_ replied to the summons in a way that would
have done credit to a harlequin. One or two active little Canadians,
on hearing the cry of the awful word _leve_, rose to their feet with
a quick bound, as if they had been keeping up an appearance of sleep
as a sort of practical joke all night, on purpose to be ready to leap
as the first sound fell from the guide's lips. Others lay still, in
the same attitude in which they had fallen asleep, having made up
their minds, apparently, to lie there in spite of all the guides in
the world. Not a few got slowly into the sitting position, their hair
dishevelled, their caps awry, their eyes alternately winking very
hard and staring awfully in the vain effort to keep open, and their
whole physiognomy wearing an expression of blank stupidity that is
peculiar to man when engaged in that struggle which occurs each
morning as he endeavours to disconnect and shake off the entanglement
of nightly dreams and the realities of the breaking day. Throughout
the whole camp there was a low, muffled sound, as of men moving
lazily, with broken whispers and disjointed sentences uttered in very
deep, hoarse tones, mingled with confused, unearthly noises, which,
upon consideration, sounded like prolonged yawns. Gradually these
sounds increased, for the guide's _leve_ is inexorable, and the
voyageur's fate inevitable.

"Oh dear!--yei a--a--ow" (yawning); "hang your _leve!_"

"Oui, vraiment--yei a-a----ow--morbleu!"

"Eh, what's that? Oh, misere!"

"Tare an' ages!" (from an Irishman), "an' I had only got to slaape
yit! but--yei a--a----ow!"

French and Irish yawns are very similar, the only difference being,
that whereas the Frenchman finishes the yawn resignedly, and springs
to his legs, the Irishman finishes it with an energetic gasp, as if
he were hurling it remonstratively into the face of Fate, turns round
again and shuts his eyes doggedly--a piece of bravado which he knows
is useless and of very short duration.

"Leve! leve!! leve!!!" There was no mistake this time in the tones of
Louis's voice. "Embark, embark! vite, vite!"

The subdued sounds of rousing broke into a loud buzz of active
preparation, as the men busied themselves in bundling up blankets,
carrying down camp-kettles to the lake, launching the boats, kicking
up lazy comrades, stumbling over and swearing at fallen trees which
were not visible in the cold, uncertain light of the early dawn,
searching hopelessly, among a tangled conglomeration of leaves and
broken branches and crushed herbage, for lost pipes and missing
tobacco-pouches.

"Hollo!" exclaimed Harry Somerville, starting suddenly from his
sleeping posture, and unintentionally cramming his elbow into
Charley's mouth, "I declare they're all up and nearly ready to
start."

"That's no reason," replied Charley, "why you should knock out all my
front teeth, is it?"

Just then Mr. Park issued from his tent, dressed and ready to step
into his boat. He first gave a glance round the camp to see that all
the men were moving, then he looked up through the trees to ascertain
the present state and, if possible, the future prospects of the
weather. Having come to a satisfactory conclusion on that head, he
drew forth his pipe and began to fill it, when his eye fell on the
two boys, who were still sitting up in their lairs, and staring
idiotically at the place where the fire had been, as if the white
ashes, half-burned logs, and bits of charcoal were a sight of the
most novel and interesting character, that filled them with intense
amazement.

Mr. Park could scarce forbear smiling.

"Hollo, youngsters, precious voyageurs _you'll_ make, to be sure, if
this is the way you're going to begin. Don't you see that the things
are all aboard, and we'll be ready to start in five minutes, and you
sitting there with your neckcloths off?"

Mr. Park gave a slight sneer when he spoke of _neckcloths_, as if he
thought, in the first place, that they were quite superfluous
portions of attire, and in the second place, that having once put
them on, the taking of them off at night was a piece of effeminacy
altogether unworthy of a Nor'-wester.

Charley and Harry needed no second rebuke. It flashed instantly upon
them that sleeping comfortably under their blankets when the men were
bustling about the camp was extremely inconsistent with the heroic
resolves of the previous day. They sprang up, rolled their blankets
in the oil-cloths, which they fastened tightly with ropes; tied the
neckcloths, held in such contempt by Mr. Park, in a twinkling; threw
on their coats, and in less than five minutes were ready to embark.
They then found that they might have done things more leisurely, as
the crews had not yet got all their traps on board; so they began to
look around them, and discovered that each had omitted to pack up a
blanket.

Very much crestfallen at their stupidity, they proceeded to untie the
bundles again, when it became apparent to the eyes of Charley that
his friend had put on his capote inside out; which had a peculiarly
ragged and grotesque effect. These mistakes were soon rectified, and
shouldering their beds, they carried them down to the boat and tossed
them in. Meanwhile Mr. Park, who had been watching the movements of
the boys with a peculiar smile, that filled them with confusion, went
round the different camps to see that nothing was left behind. The
men were all in their places with oars ready, and the boats floating
on the calm water, a yard or two from shore, with the exception of
the guide's boat, the stern of which still rested on the sand
awaiting Mr. Park.

"Who does this belong to?" shouted that gentleman, holding up a cloth
cap, part of which was of a mottled brown and part deep blue.

Harry instantly tore the covering from his head, and discovered that
among his numerous mistakes he had put on the head-dress of one of
the Indians who had brought him to the camp. To do him justice the
cap was not unlike his own, excepting that it was a little more
mottled and dirty in colour, besides being decorated with a gaudy but
very much crushed and broken feather.

"You had better change with our friend here, I think," said Mr. Park,
grinning from ear to ear, as he tossed the cap to its owner, while
Harry handed the other to the Indian, amid the laughter of the crew.

"Never mind, boy," added Mr. Park, in an encouraging tone, "you'll
make a voyageur yet.--Now then, lads, give way;" and with a nod to
the Indians, who stood on the shore watching their departure, the
trader sprang into the boat and took his place beside the two boys.

"Ho! sing, mes garcons," cried the guide, seizing the massive sweep
and directing the boat out to sea.

At this part of the lake there occurs a deep bay or inlet, to save
rounding which travellers usually strike straight across from point
to point, making what is called in voyageur parlance a _traverse_.
These traverses are subjects of considerable anxiety and frequently
of delay to travellers, being sometimes of considerable extent,
varying from four to five, and in such immense seas as Lake Superior,
to fourteen miles. With boats, indeed, there is little to fear, as
the inland craft of the fur-traders can stand a heavy sea, and often
ride out a pretty severe storm; but it is far otherwise with the bark
canoes that are often used in travelling. These frail craft can stand
very little sea--their frames being made of thin flat slips of wood
and sheets of bark, not more than a quarter of an inch thick, which
are sewed together with the fibrous roots of the pine (called by the
natives _wattape_), and rendered water-tight by means of melted gum.
Although light and buoyant, therefore, and extremely useful in a
country where portages are numerous, they require very tender usage;
and when a traverse has to be made, the guides have always a grave
consultation, with some of the most sagacious among the men, as to
the probability of the wind rising or falling--consultations which
are more or less marked by anxiety and tediousness in proportion to
the length of the traverse, the state of the weather and the courage
or timidity of the guides.

On the present occasion there was no consultation, as has been
already seen. The traverse was a short one, the morning fine, and the
boats good. A warm glow began to overspread the horizon, giving
promise of a splendid day, as the numerous oars dipped with a plash
and a loud hiss into the water, and sent the boats leaping forth upon
the white wave.

"Sing, sing!" cried the guide again, and clearing his throat, he
began the beautiful quick-tuned canoe-song "Rose Blanche," to which
the men chorused with such power of lungs that a family of plovers,
which up to that time had stood in mute astonishment on a sandy
point, tumbled precipitately into the water, from which they rose
with a shrill, inexpressibly wild, plaintive cry, and fled screaming
away to a more secure refuge among the reeds and sedges of a swamp. A
number of ducks too, awakened by the unwonted sound, shot suddenly
out from the concealment of their night's bivouac with erect heads
and startled looks, sputtered heavily over the surface of their
liquid bed, and rising into the air, flew in a wide circuit, with
whistling wings, away from the scene of so much uproar and confusion.

The rough voices of the men grew softer and softer as the two Indians
listened to the song of their departing friends, mellowing down and
becoming more harmonious and more plaintive as the distance
increased, and the boats grew smaller and smaller, until they were
lost in the blaze of light that now bathed both water and sky in the
eastern horizon, and began rapidly to climb the zenith, while the
sweet tones became less and less audible as they floated faintly
across the still water, and melted at last into the deep silence of
the wilderness.

The two Indians still stood with downcast heads and listening ears,
as if they loved the last echo of the dying music, while their grave,
statue-like forms added to rather than detracted from, the solitude
of the deserted scene.

CHAPTER XI.

Charley and Harry begin their sporting career without much success--
Whisky-john catching.

The place in the boats usually allotted to gentlemen in the Company's
service while travelling is the stern. Here the lading is so arranged
as to form a pretty level hollow, where the flat bundles containing
their blankets are placed, and a couch is thus formed that rivals
Eastern effeminacy in luxuriance. There are occasions, however, when
this couch is converted into a bed, not of thorns exactly, but of
corners; and really it would be hard to say which of the two is the
more disagreeable. Should the men be careless in arranging the cargo,
the inevitable consequence is that "monsieur" will find the leg of an
iron stove, the sharp edge of a keg, or the corner of a wooden box
occupying the place where his ribs should be. So common, however, is
this occurrence that the clerks usually superintend the arrangements
themselves, and so secure comfort.

On a couch, then, of this kind Charley and Harry now found themselves
constrained to sit all morning--sometimes asleep, occasionally awake,
and always earnestly desiring that it was time to put ashore for
breakfast, as they had now travelled for four hours without halt,
except twice for about five minutes, to let the men light their
pipes.

"Charley," said Harry Somerville to his friend, who sat beside him,
"it strikes me that we are to have no breakfast at all to-day. Here
have I been holding my breath and tightening my belt, until I feel
much more like a spider or a wasp than a--a--"

"_Man_, Harry; out with it at once, don't be afraid," said Charley.

"Well, no, I wasn't going to have said _that_ exactly, but I was
going to have said a voyageur, only I recollected our doings this
morning, and hesitated to take the name until I had won it."

"It's well that you entertain so modest an opinion of yourself," said
Mr. Park, who still smoked his pipe as if he were impressed with the
idea that to stop for a moment would produce instant death. "I may
tell you for your comfort, youngster, that we shan't breakfast till
we reach yonder point."

The shores of Lake Winnipeg are flat and low, and the point indicated
by Mr. Park lay directly in the light of the sun, which now shone
with such splendour in the cloudless sky, and flashed on the polished
water, that it was with difficulty they could look towards the point
of land.

"Where is it?" asked Charley, shading his eyes with his hand; "I
cannot make out anything at all."

"Try again, my boy; there's nothing like practice."

"Ah yes! I make it out now; a faint shadow just under the sun. Is
that it?"

"Ay, and we'll break our fast _there_."

"I would like very much to break your head _here_," thought Charley,
but he did not say it, as, besides being likely to produce unpleasant
consequences, he felt that such a speech to an elderly gentleman
would be highly improper; and Charley had _some_ respect for gray
hairs for their own sake, whether the owner of them was a good man or
a goose.

"What shall we do, Harry? If I had only thought of keeping out a
book."

"I know what _I_ shall do," said Harry, with a resolute air: "I'll go
and shoot!"

"Shoot!" cried Charley. "You don't mean to say that you're going to
waste your powder and shot by firing at the clouds! for unless you
take _them_, I see nothing else here."

"That's because you don't use your eyes," retorted Harry. "Will you
just look at yonder rock ahead of us, and tell me what you see?"

Charley looked earnestly at the rock, which to a cursory glance
seemed as if composed of whiter stone on the top. "Gulls, I declare!"
shouted Charley, at the same time jumping up in haste.

Just then one of the gulls, probably a scout sent out to watch the
approaching enemy, wheeled in a circle overhead. The two youths
dragged their guns from beneath the thwarts of the boat, and rummaged
about in great anxiety for shot-belts and powder-horns. At last they
were found; and having loaded, they sat on the edge of the boat,
looking out for game with as much--ay, with _more_ intense interest
than a Blackfoot Indian would have watched for a fat buffalo cow.

"There he goes," said Harry; "take the first shot, Charley."

"Where? where is it?"

"Right ahead. Look out!"

As Harry spoke, a small white gull, with bright-red legs and beak,
flew over the boat so close to them that, as the guide remarked, "he
could see it wink!" Charley's equanimity, already pretty well
disturbed, was entirely upset at the suddenness of the bird's
appearance; for he had been gazing intently at the rock when his
friend's exclamation drew his attention in time to see the gull
within about four feet of his head. With a sudden "Oh!" Charley threw
forward his gun, took a short, wavering aim, and blew the cock-tail
feather out of Baptiste's hat; while the gull sailed tranquilly away,
as much as to say, "If _that's_ all you can do, there's no need for
me to hurry!"

"Confound the boy!" cried Mr. Park. "You'll be the death of someone
yet; I'm convinced of that."

"Parbleu! you may say that, c'est vrai," remarked the voyageur with a
rueful gaze at his hat, which, besides having its ornamental feather
shattered, was sadly cut up about the crown.

The poor lad's face became much redder than the legs or beak of the
gull as he sat down in confusion, which he sought to hide by busily
reloading his gun; while the men indulged in a somewhat witty and
sarcastic criticism of his powers of shooting, remarking, in
flattering terms, on the precision of the shot that blew Baptiste's
feather into atoms, and declaring that if every shot he fired was as
truly aimed, he would certainly be the best in the country.

Baptiste also came in for a share of their repartee. "It serves you
right," said the guide, laughing, "for wearing such things on the
voyage. You should put away such foppery till you return to the
settlement, where there are _girls_ to admire you." (Baptiste had
continued to wear the tall hat, ornamented with gold cords and
tassels, with which he had left Red River).

"Ah!" cried another, pulling vigorously at his oar, "I fear that
Marie won't look at you, now that all your beauty's gone."

"'Tis not quite gone," said a third; "there's all the brim and half a
tassel left, besides the wreck of the remainder."

"Oh, I can lend you a few fragments," retorted Baptiste, endeavouring
to parry some of the thrusts. "They would improve _you_ vastly."

"No, no, friend; gather them up and replace them: they will look more
picturesque and becoming now. I believe if you had worn them much
longer all the men in the boat would have fallen in love with you."

"By St. Patrick," said Mike Brady, an Irishman who sat at the oar
immediately behind the unfortunate Canadian, "there's more than
enough o' rubbish scattered over mysilf nor would do to stuff a
fither-bed with."

As Mike spoke, he collected the fragments of feathers and ribbons
with which the unlucky shot had strewn him, and placed them slyly on
the top of the dilapidated hat, which Baptiste, after clearing away
the wreck, had replaced on his head.

"It's very purty," said Mike, as the action was received by the crew
with a shout of merriment.

Baptiste was waxing wrathful under this fire, when the general
attention was drawn again towards Charley and his friend, who, having
now got close to the rock, had quite forgotten their mishap in the
excitement of expectation.

This excitement in the shooting of such small game might perhaps
surprise our readers, did we not acquaint them with the fact that
neither of the boys had, up to that time, enjoyed much opportunity of
shooting. It is true that Harry had once or twice borrowed the
fowling-piece of the senior clerk, and had sallied forth with a
beating heart to pursue the grouse which are found in the belt of
woodland skirting the Assiniboine River near to Fort Garry. But these
expeditions were of rare occurrence, and they had not sufficed to rub
off much of the bounding excitement with which he loaded and fired at
anything and everything that came within range of his gun. Charley,
on the other hand, had never fired a shot before, except out of an
old horse-pistol; having up to this period been busily engaged at
school, except during the holidays, which he always spent in the
society of his sister Kate, whose tastes were not such as were likely
to induce him to take up the gun, even if he had possessed such a
weapon. Just before leaving Red River, his father presented him with
his own gun, remarking, as he did so, with a sigh, that _his_ day was
past now; and adding that the gun was a good one for shot or ball,
and if he (Charley) brought down _half_ as much game with it as he
(Mr. Kennedy) had brought down in the course of his life, he might
consider himself a crack shot undoubtedly.

It was not surprising, therefore, that the two friends went nearly
mad with excitation when the whole flock of gulls rose into the air
like a white cloud, and sailed in endless circles and gyrations above
and around their heads--flying so close at times that they might
almost have been caught by the hand. Neither was it surprising that
innumerable shots were fired, by both sportsmen, without a single
bird being a whit the worse for it, or themselves much the better;
the energetic efforts made to hit being rendered abortive by the very
eagerness which caused them to miss. And this was the less
extraordinary, too, when it is remembered that Harry in his haste
loaded several times without shot, and Charley rendered the right
barrel of his gun _hors de combat_ at last, by ramming down a charge
of shot and omitting powder altogether, whereby he snapped and
primed, and snapped and primed again, till he grew desperate, and
then suspicious of the true cause, which he finally rectified with
much difficulty.

Frequently the gulls flew straight over the heads of the youths--
which produced peculiar consequences, as in such cases they took aim
while the birds were approaching; but being somewhat slow at taking
aim, the gulls were almost perpendicularly above them ere they were
ready to shoot, so that they were obliged to fire hastily in _hope_,
feeling that they were losing their balance, or give up the chance
altogether.

Mr. Park sat grimly in his place all the while, enjoying the scene,
and smoking.

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