CHAPTER XV.
A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.
After remaining a day at their first camp on the lake, our voyageurscontinued their journey. Their course lay a little to the west of north,as the edge of the lake trended in that direction. Their usual plan, asalready stated, was to keep out in the lake far enough to shun thenumerous indentations of the shore, yet not so far as to endanger theirlittle craft when the wind was high. At night they always landed,either upon some point or on an island. Sometimes the wind blew "deadahead," and then their day's journey would be only a few miles. When thewind was favourable they made good progress, using the skin of thewapiti for a sail. On one of these days they reckoned a distance of overforty miles from camp to camp.
It was their custom always to lie by on Sunday, for our young voyageurswere Christians. They had done so on their former expedition across theSouthern prairies, and they had found the practice to their advantage ina physical as well as a moral sense. They required the rest thusobtained; besides, a general cleaning up is necessary, at least, onceevery week. Sunday was also a day of feasting with them. They had moretime to devote to culinary operations, and the _cuisine_ of that day wasalways the most varied of the week. Any extra delicacy obtained by therifle on previous days, was usually reserved for the Sunday's dinner.
On the first Sunday after entering Lake Winnipeg the "camp" chanced tobe upon an island. It was a small island, of only a few acres in extent.It lay near the shore, and was well wooded over its whole surface withtrees of many different kinds. Indeed, islands in a large lake usuallyhave a great variety of trees, as the seeds of all those sorts that growaround the shores are carried thither by the waves, or in the crops ofthe numerous birds that flit over its waters. But as the island inquestion lay in a lake, whose shores exhibited such a varied geology, itwas natural the vegetation of the island itself should be varied. And,in truth, it was so.
Among the low bushes and shrubs there were rose and wild raspberry;there were apple and plum trees, and whole thickets of the "Pembina."There is, in fact, no part of the world where a greater variety of wildfruit has been found indigenous than upon the banks of the Red River ofthe North, and this variety extended to the little island where ourvoyageurs had encamped.
The camp had been placed under a beautiful tree--the tacamahac, orbalsam poplar. This is one of the finest trees of America, and one ofthose that extend farthest north into the cold countries. In favourablesituations it attains a height of one hundred and fifty feet, with aproportionate thickness of trunk; but it is oftener only fifty or eightyfeet high. Its leaves are oval, and, when young, of a rich yellowishcolour, which changes to a bright green. The buds are very large,yellow, and covered with a varnish, which exhales a delightfulfragrance, and gives to the tree its specific name.
It was near sunset on the afternoon of Saturday, the travellers had justfinished their repast, and were reclining around a fire of red cedar,whose delicate smoke curled up among the pale green leaves of thepoplars. The fragrant smell of the burning wood, mixed with the aromaticodour of the balsam-tree, filled the air with a sweet perfume, and,almost without knowing why, our voyageurs felt a sense of pleasurestealing over them. The woods of the little island were not withouttheir voices.
The scream of the jay was heard, and his bright azure wing appeared nowand then among the foliage. The scarlet plumage of the cardinal grosbeakflashed under the beams of the setting sun; and the trumpet-note of theivory-billed woodpecker was heard near the centre of the island. Anosprey was circling in the air, with his eye bent on the water below,watching for his finny prey; and a pair of bald eagles were wingingtheir way towards the adjacent mainland. Half-a-dozen turkey vultureswere wheeling above the beach, where some object, fish or carrion, hadbeen thrown up by the waves.
For some time the party remained silent, each contemplating the scenewith feelings of pleasure. Francois, as usual, first broke the silence.
"I say, cook, what's for dinner to-morrow?"
It was to Lucien this speech was addressed. He was regarded as the_maitre de cuisine_.
"Roast or boiled--which would you prefer?" asked the cook, with asignificant smile.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Francois; "boiled, indeed! a pretty boil we couldhave in a tin cup, holding less than a pint. I wish we _could_ have aboiled joint and a bowl of soup. I'd give something for it. I'm precioustired of this everlasting dry roast."
"You shall have both," rejoined Lucien, "for to-morrow's dinner. Ipromise you both the soup and the joint."
Again Francois laughed increduously.
"Do you mean to make soup in your shoe, Luce?"
"No; but I shall make it in this."
And Lucien held up a vessel somewhat like a water-pail, which the daybefore he had himself made out of birch-bark.
"Well," replied Francois, "I know you have got a vessel that holdswater, but cold water ain't soup; and if you can boil water in thatvessel, I'll believe you to be a conjuror. I know you can do somecurious things with your chemical mixtures; but that you can't do, I'msure. Why, man, the bottom would be burned out of your bucket before thewater got blood-warm. Soup, indeed!"
"Never mind, Frank, you shall see. You're only like the rest ofmankind--incredulous about everything they can't comprehend. If you'lltake your hook and line, and catch some fish, I promise to give you adinner to-morrow, with all the regular courses--soup, fish, boiled,roast, and dessert, too! I'm satisfied I can do all that."
"_Parbleu_! brother, you should have been cook to Lucullus. Well, I'llcatch the fish for you."
So saying, Francois took a fish-hook and line out of his pouch, andfixing a large grasshopper upon the hook, stepped forward to the edge ofthe water, and cast it in. The float was soon seen to bob and then sink,and Francois jerked his hook ashore with a small and very pretty fishupon it of a silver hue, with which the lake and the waters running intoit abound. Lucien told him it was a fish of the genus _Hyodon_. He alsoadvised him to bait with a worm, and let his bait sink to the bottom,and he might catch a sturgeon, which would be a larger fish.
"How do you know there are sturgeon in the lake?" inquired Francois.
"I am pretty sure of that," answered the naturalist; "the sturgeon isfound all round the world in the northern temperate zone--both in itsseas and fresh waters; although, when you go farther south into thewarmer climate, no sturgeons exist. I am sure there are some here,perhaps more than one species. Sink your bait for the sturgeon is atoothless fish, and feeds upon soft substances at the bottom."
Francois followed the advice of his brother, and in a few minutes hehad a "nibble," and drew up and landed a very large fish, full threefeet in length. Lucien at once pronounced it a sturgeon, but of aspecies he had not before seen. It was the _Acipenser carbonarius_, acurious sort of fish found in these waters. It did not look like a fishthat would be pleasant eating; therefore Francois again took to bobbingfor the silver fish which, though small, he knew to be excellent whenbroiled.
"Come," said Basil, "I must furnish my quota to this famous dinner thatis to be. Let me see what there is on the island in the way of game;"and shouldering his rifle, he walked off among the trees.
"And I," said Norman, "am not going to eat the produce of other people'slabour without contributing my share."
So the young trader took up his gun and went off in a differentdirection.
"Good!" exclaimed Lucien, "we are likely to have plenty of meat for thedinner. I must see about the vegetables;" and taking with him hisnew-made vessel, Lucien sauntered off along the shore of the islet.Francois alone remained by the camp and continued his fishing. Let usfollow the plant-hunter, and learn a lesson of practical botany.
Lucien had not gone far, when he came to what appeared to be a meresedge growing in the water. The stalks or culms of this sedge were fulleight feet high, with smooth leaves, an inch broad, nearly a yard inlength, and of a light green colour. At the top of each stalk was alarge panicle of seeds, somewhat resembling a head of oats. The plantitself w
as the famous wild rice so much prized by the Indians as anarticle of food, and also the favourite of many wild birds especiallythe reed-bird or rice-bunting. The grain of the zizania was not yetripe, but the ears were tolerably well filled, and Lucien saw that itwould do for his purpose. He therefore waded in, and stripped off intohis vessel as much as he wanted.
"I am safe for rice-soup, at all events," soliloquised he, "but I thinkI can do still better;" and he continued on around the shore, andshortly after struck into some heavy timber that grew in a damp, richsoil. He had walked about an hundred yards farther, when he was seen tostoop and examine some object on the ground.
"It ought to be found here," he muttered to himself; "this is the verysoil for it--yes, here we have it!"
The object over which he was stooping was a plant, but its leavesappeared shrivelled, or rather quite withered away. The upper part of abulbous root, however, was just visible above the surface. It was a bulbof the wild leek. The leaves, when young, are about six inches inlength, of a flat shape and often three inches broad; but, strange tosay, they shrivel or die off very early in the season--even before theplant flowers, and then it is difficult to find the bulb.
Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things; and in a short while hehad rooted out several bulbs as large as pigeons' eggs, and depositedthem in his birchen vessel. He now turned to go back to camp, satisfiedwith what he had obtained. He had the rice to give consistency to hissoup, and the leek roots to flavour it with. That would be enough.
As he was walking over a piece of boggy ground his eye was attracted toa singular plant, whose tall stem rose high above the grass. It was fulleight feet in height, and at its top there was an umbel of conspicuouswhite flowers. Its leaves were large, lobed, and toothed, and the stemitself was over an inch in diameter, with furrows runninglongitudinally. Lucien had never seen the plant before, although he hadoften heard accounts of it, and he at once recognised it from itsbotanical description. It was the celebrated "cow parsnip." Its stem wasjointed and hollow, and Lucien had heard that the Indians called it intheir language "flute stem," as they often used it to make their rudemusical instruments from, and also a sort of whistle or "call," by whichthey were enabled to imitate and decoy several kinds of deer. But therewas another use to which the plant was put, of which the naturalist wasnot aware. Norman who had been wandering about, came up at this moment,and seeing Lucien standing by the plant, uttered a joyful "Hulloh!"
"Well," inquired Lucien, "what pleases you, coz?"
"Why, the flute-stem, of course. You talked of making a soup. It willhelp you, I fancy."
"How?" demanded Lucien.
"Why, the young stems are good eating, and the roots, if you will; butthe young shoots are better. Both Indians and voyageurs eat them insoup, and are fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you."
"Let us gather some, then," said Lucien; and the cousins commencedcutting off such stems as were still young and tender. As soon as theyhad obtained enough, they took their way back to the camp. Basil hadalready arrived with a fine _prairie hen_ which he had shot, and Sandyhad brought back a squirrel; so that, with Francois's fish, of which asufficient number had been caught, Lucien was likely to be able to keephis promise about the dinner.
Francois, however, could not yet comprehend how the soup was to beboiled in a wooden pot; and, indeed, Basil was unable to guess. Norman,however, knew well enough, for he had travelled through the country ofthe Assinoboil Indians, who take their name from this very thing. He hadalso witnessed the operation performed by Crees, Chippewas, and evenvoyageurs, where metal or earthen pots could not be obtained.
On the next day the mystery was cleared up to Basil and Francois. Lucienfirst collected a number of stones--about as large as paving-stones. Hechose such as were hard and smooth. These he flung into the cinders,where they soon became red-hot. The water and meat were now put into thebark pot, and then one stone after another,--each being taken out as itgot cooled,--until the water came to a fierce boil. The rice and otheringredients were added at the proper time, and in a short while anexcellent soup was made. So much, then, for the soup, and the boileddishes with vegetables. The roast, of course, was easily made ready upongreen-wood spits, and the "game" was cooked in a similar way. The fishwere broiled upon the red cinders, and eaten, as is usual, after thesoup. There were no puddings or pies, though, no doubt, Lucien couldhave made such had they been wanted.
In their place there was an excellent service of fruit. There werestrawberries and raspberries, one sort of which found wild in thisregion is of a most delicious flavour. There were gooseberries andcurrants; but the most delicious fruit, and that which Francois likedbest, was a small berry of a dark blue colour, not unlike thehuckleberry, but much sweeter and of higher flavour. It grows on a lowbush or shrub with ovate leaves; and this bush when it blossoms is socovered with beautiful white flowers, that neither leaves nor branchescan be seen. There are no less than four varieties of it known, two ofwhich attain to the height of twenty feet or more. The French Canadianscall it "le poire," but in most parts of America it is known as the"service-berry," although several other names are given to it indifferent districts. Lucien informed his companions, while they werecrushing its sweet purplish fruit between their teeth, that itsbotanical name is _Amelanchier_.
"Now," remarked Francois, "if we only had a cup of coffee and a glass ofwine, we might say that we had dined in fashionable style."
"I think," replied Lucien, "we are better without the wine, and as forthe other I cannot give you that, but I fancy I can provide you with acup of tea if you only allow me a little time."
"Tea!" screamed Francois; "why, there's not a leaf of tea nearer thanChina; and for the sugar, not a grain within hundreds of miles!"
"Come, Frank," said Lucien, "nature has not been so ungenerous here,even in such luxuries as tea and sugar. Look yonder! You see those largetrees with the dark-coloured trunks. What are they?"
"Sugar-maples," replied Francois.
"Well," said Lucien, "I think even at this late season we might contriveto extract sap enough from them to sweeten a cup of tea. You may try,while I go in search of the tea-plant."
"Upon my word, Luce, you are equal to a wholesale grocery. Very well.Come, Basil, we'll tap the maples; let the captain go with Luce."
The boys, separating into pairs, walked off, in different directions.Lucien and his companion soon lighted upon the object of their search inthe same wet bottom where they had procured the _Heracleum_. It was abranching shrub, not over two feet in height, with small leaves of adeep green colour above, but whitish and woolly underneath. It is aplant well known throughout most of the Hudson's Bay territory by thename of "Labrador tea-plant;" and is so called because the Canadianvoyageurs, and other travellers through these northern districts, oftendrink it as tea. It is one of the _Ericaceae_, or heath tribe, of thegenus _Ledum_--though it is not a true heath, as, strange to say, notrue heath is found upon the continent of America.
There are two kinds of it known,--the "narrow-leafed" and "broad-leafed"and the former makes the best tea. But the pretty white flowers of theplant are better for the purpose than the leaves of either variety; andthese it was that were now gathered by Lucien and Norman. They requireto be dried before the decoction is made; but this can be done in ashort time over a fire; and so in a short time it was done, Normanhaving parched them upon heated stones.
Meanwhile Basil and Francois had obtained the sugar-water, and Lucienhaving washed his soup-kettle clean, and once more made his boilingstones red-hot, prepared the beverage; and then it was served out in thetin cup, and all partook of it. Norman had drunk the Labrador teabefore, and was rather fond of it, but his Southern cousins did not muchrelish it. Its peculiar flavour, which somewhat resembles rhubarb, wasnot at all to the liking of Francois. All, however, admitted that itproduced a cheering effect upon their spirits; and, after drinking it,they felt in that peculiarly happy state of mind which one experiencesafter a cup of the real "Bohea.
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