XIII THE RED-HEADED SCOTCH BOY
Instead of continuing on the west bank of the Red River and crossing theAssiniboine, the cart train turned to the east, followed a well-traveledtrack down to the Red, and forded that river below the Forks. The countryjust south of the Assiniboine was marshy and thickly wooded with willowsand small poplars. By following the east bank of the Red the almostimpassable low ground was avoided.
The carts were now on the St. Boniface side, where the stream that Louiscalled _Riviere la Seine_, and the Scotch settlers, German Creek, enteredthe river. Some of the DeMeuron cabins were near at hand, and the Swisswho were to remain there were on the lookout for a chance to say good-byeto their friends. Walter saw again the red-faced ex-soldier who hadboasted that he and his comrades were the pick of many countries. Hecarried a gun on his shoulder and looked as if he had been drinking. Theboy liked him even less than before.
The carts crossed the creek, which was narrow and shallow where it joinedthe river. Ten or twelve miles farther on, they forded the Red again,above the mouth of the _Riviere la Sale_, a small, muddy stream coming infrom the west.
Their way now lay across the open prairie west of the Red River; treelessplains such as the Swiss immigrants had never seen before. Trees grewalong the river bank only. The few elevations in sight seemed scarcelyhigh enough to be called hills. This was the fertile, rich soiled land ofwhich the new settlers had been told. Its grass ravaged by locusts, driedby the sun, withered by frost, in some places consumed by sweeping fires;the prairie showed little outward sign of its fertility. The immigrantsgazed across the yellow-gray expanse and the unsightly black stretches,and shook their heads wonderingly and doubtfully. Many a heart was heavywith homesickness for native mountains and valleys.
Walter Rossel was not a little heartsick, as he walked beside the loadedcart or took a turn at riding on the shafts and driving the shaggy pony.He was trudging along, absorbed in his own thoughts, when he was startledby the sudden dash of a horse so close that he instinctively jumped theother way. Looking up, he saw a freckled, red-haired lad in aTam-o'-Shanter, grinning cheerfully down from the back of the wiry, blackpony he had pulled up so short it was standing on its hind legs.Instantly Walter recognized the horseman. This red-headed boy was thefirst of the settlers he had seen when the brigade approached the Scotchsettlement of Kildonan. He was the fisherman who had waved his bluebonnet to the boats.
The Scotch lad was greeting Louis as an old friend, and the Canadianresponded smilingly. "_Bo'jou_, Neil MacKay," he cried. "So your familygoes again to Pembina."
"What else can we do?" was the question. "We must eat, and there is sureto be more food at Pembina this winter than at Kildonan. We will hunttogether again, Louis."
"Yes, you and I and my other friend here, Walter Rossel."
Walter and Neil responded to this introduction by exchanging nods andgrins. The red-haired lad dismounted, and, leading his pony, fell intostep by Walter's side. The conversation of the three was carried onprincipally in French. The Scotch boy had learned that language duringhis first winter at the Red River. That winter, and several of thesucceeding ones, he had spent at Pembina. Among the French and _boisbrules_ he had had plenty of practice in the Canadian tongue. Indeed hespoke it far better than English, for his native speech was the Gaelic ofnorthern Scotland. Already familiar with Louis' Canadian French, Walterhad little difficulty in understanding Neil, except when he introduced aGaelic word or phrase.
The Scotch boy answered the newcomer's questions readily and told himmuch about the Colony. Neil had come from Scotland with his father andmother, brothers and sisters, before he was nine years old. He was justfifteen now. When the MacKays and their companions had reached the RedRiver, they had found the settlement deserted, the houses burned. Thesettlers were gathered together again and spent the winter at Pembina,returning to Fort Douglas in the spring. Then came Cuthbert Grant and hiswild _bois brule_ followers. Governor Semple was killed and Fort Douglascaptured for the Northwest Company. The colonists, including the MacKays,were compelled to go to Norway House. They had returned when Lord Selkirkand his DeMeurons arrived and had gone on with their farming.
There were some two hundred settlers at Kildonan now, Neil said, andabout a hundred DeMeurons along German Creek. How many Canadians and_bois brules_ really belonged at St. Boniface it was hard to tell, theycame and went so constantly. "They do little farming on the east side ofthe river," the boy remarked. "Hunting and fishing are more to theirtaste. I don't blame them. They can get enough to eat more easily thatway. Raising crops here is discouraging work. You will learn that soonenough."
"Isn't the soil good?" asked Walter. "We were told it was rich."
"Oh, the soil is all right, after you get the ground broken. Breaking ishard work though, when you have nothing but a hoe and a spade. There isscarcely a plow in the Colony. There hasn't been an ox till just lately.The Indian ponies aren't trained for farm work. Things grow fast oncethey are planted, but what is the good of raising them when thegrasshoppers take them all? I would go to Canada, as so many have done,or to the United States, but my father is stubborn. He won't leaveKildonan. He has worked hard and he doesn't want to give up his land. Yetif the grasshoppers keep coming every year, they will drive even himaway." Neil shook his red head, his face very sober.
The settlers, he went on to say, had no sheep and few pigs. Until a fewweeks before, they had had no cattle. Alexis Bailly, a _bois brule_trader had come, during the summer, clear from the Mississippi River witha herd of about forty.
"He got a good price for the beasts," Neil commented, "but he deservedit, after bringing them hundreds of miles through the Sioux country. Whythe Indians didn't get every one of them I can't understand."
"It was a great feat truly," Louis agreed. "But most of those cattle willbe killed for food this winter."
"I'm afraid so. It will be hard times in the Colony, and everyone is deepin debt to the store now."
"The prices are high there I hear," Louis remarked.
"High? Yes, and that's not the worst of it. The Colony store isn't runhonestly. So many of the settlers can't read or write, it is easy tocheat them. My father can write and he keeps account of everything hebuys, but they won't let him have anything more until he settles the billthey have against him. Half of that bill is for things he never had, andhe swears he won't pay for what he didn't buy."
"I should think not," cried Walter indignantly. "Why doesn't he appeal tothe Governor?"
Neil laughed shortly. "He tried, but it did him no good. If the Governordoesn't do the cheating himself, he winks at it. Governor 'Grasshopper'is one of the Colony's worst troubles. He thinks he is a little king,with his high-handed ways, and the court he keeps at Fort Douglas, andthe revels he holds there."
"We heard something of that last night."
"Aye, it's no uncommon thing. McDonnell is not the man to be at the headof the Colony. We're all hoping he won't last much longer. Manycomplaints have been made to the Company, to Nicholas Garry and SimonMcGillivray when they were here in the summer, and even by letter acrossthe sea."
The prairie track the carts followed ran well back from the wooded riverbanks. As the sun was setting behind a far distant rise of land acrossthe plain, the guide turned from the trail. The squeaking carts followedhis lead, bumping, pitching, and wobbling over the untracked ground.Supposing that Lajimoniere was seeking the shelter of the woods, Walterwas surprised when the guide reined in his mount at a distance of atleast a half mile from the nearest trees. His cart stopped also and theflag it bore was lowered, as a signal to the rest of the train. Camp wasto be made on the prairie in the full sweep of the sharp northwest wind.
"This is a poor place it seems to me," the Swiss boy commented. "Fartherover, among the trees, there would be shelter, and plenty of wood."
"Lajimoniere prefers the open. It is safer."
"What is there to fear?"
"Nothing p
robably, but we can't be sure." Neil MacKay spoke quietly butseriously. "Out here on the prairie, we can see anyone approaching."
"You mean Indians? I thought the Saulteux and Crees were friendly."
"They are. Lajimoniere is thinking about Sioux. Whether the Sioux arefriendly or not is an open question just now. Didn't you hear whathappened at Fort Douglas a few weeks ago?"
"The visit of the Sioux?" questioned Louis. "I was told of it last nightat St. Boniface. It was a most unfortunate affair."
"What was it?" Walter asked. "I didn't know the Sioux ever came to FortDouglas. Louis told me their country was farther south."
"So it is," replied the Scotch lad. "A Sioux seldom ventures this fardown the Red River nowadays, but a party of them did come clear to thefort a while ago. They said they had heard how fine the Company's goodswere and what generous presents the traders gave. So they came to pay avisit to the Hudson Bay white men. They were friendly, almost toofriendly. They expected drink and gifts. The Governor was away, and oneof the Company clerks was in charge. He didn't know just what to do withsuch dangerous guests. He told them there wasn't any rum in the fort, andgave them tea instead. Then he fed them and distributed a few trinketsand little things. If they would go back to their own country, he said,the Company would send traders to them with goods and more presents."
"The Company will get into trouble with the American traders if goods aresent to the Sioux country beyond the border," Louis commented.
"Yes, but he had to promise something to get rid of the fellows. If theystayed around, he was afraid of trouble with the Saulteux. The Siouxseemed satisfied when they left the fort. But several Saulteux werehiding in ambush in the fort garden. They fired on the Sioux, killed two,and wounded another, then escaped by swimming the river and dodgingthrough the willows. Of course the Sioux were furious. They said thewhite men had given the Saulteux powder and shot to kill friendlyvisitors. One of them boasted to a _bois brule_ from St. Boniface,--whois part Sioux himself and speaks their language,--that they were goingback to the fort to scalp the clerk. The half-breed went right to thefort with the story. Things looked serious. If the party of Sioux hadbeen larger they might have attacked the fort or massacred all of us, butthey knew they were far outnumbered. Somehow they learned that the men inthe fort had been warned of their plot. They decamped suddenly, andnothing more has been seen of them. Probably they have gone back to theirown country, but no one knows. They may be hiding somewhere waiting for achance to attack any Saulteur or _bois brule_ or white man who comesalong."
Louis nodded soberly. "When an Indian seeks revenge he is not alwayscareful what man he strikes. Lajimoniere does well to camp in the open."
Neil's story had sent a chill up Walter's spine. Hardship he had becomeused to during the journey from Fort York, hardship and danger from theforces of Nature; water and wind, cold and storm. But this was the firsttime in his life that real peril from enemy human beings had everconfronted him. He had known of course that there might be danger fromIndians in this wild land to which he had come, but he had never actuallysensed that danger before. He glanced towards the woods, and saw, inimagination, half naked, copper colored savages concealed in the shadowsand watching with fierce eyes the approaching carts.
Although camp was pitched out of musket range from that belt of trees,the woods nevertheless must be penetrated. The beasts must be taken tothe river. Water and fuel must be brought back. After listening to Neil'sstory, Walter was surprised at the apparent light-hearted carelessness ofthe men and boys who started riverward with the horses and cattle. Neilhad a cow and three ponies to water, and he offered one of the latter toWalter.
"Ride the roan," he advised, "if you're not used to our ponies. He isolder and better broken."
Neil took for granted that Walter wanted to go with Louis and himself,and the Swiss boy, who was far from being a coward, did not think ofdeclining. He had not been on a horse for several years, but before hisapprenticeship to Mr. Perier, he had been used to riding. The roan wasunusually well broken and sedate for a prairie pony. Though obliged toride bareback and with only a halter instead of bridle and bit, Walterhad no trouble with the animal. The horse knew it was being taken towater and needed no guidance to keep with the other beasts.
The boy could not help a feeling of uneasiness as he approached thewoods, and he noticed that Louis, though he seemed to ride carelessly,kept one hand on his gun. The irregular cavalcade of mounted men and boysand loose animals passed in among the trees,--sturdy oaks, broad toppedelms, great basswoods, which Louis called _bois blanc_,--white wood,--andWalter _lindens_. All were nearly leafless now, except the oaks, whichretained part of their dry, brown foliage, but the trunks stood closeenough together to furnish cover for any lurking enemy. Without alarm,however, the animals threaded their way through the belt of larger growthto the river bank. The steep slopes and narrow bottom were covered withsmaller trees and bushes, aspen poplar, wild plum and cherry, highbushcranberry, saskatoon or service berry, prickly raspberry canes, and,especially along the river margin, thick willows.
Following a track where wild animals had broken a way through the bushesand undergrowth, dogs, cattle, horses, and men made their way down thefirst slope, along a shelf or terrace, and on down a yet steeper inclineto the river bottom. The sure-footed, thirsty beasts made the descent inquick time, and crashed eagerly through the willows to the water. The RedRiver ran sluggishly here. It was smooth and deep, with muddy shores. Inthe dried mud along the margin were the old tracks of the animals thathad broken the trail down the slope.
When the boys had dismounted to water their horses, Louis pointed out theprints, which resembled those of naked feet. "Somewhere near here," hesaid, "the bears must cross. They have regular fords. Once in the fall Iwatched a band of bears cross the Pembina. I was up in a tree and Icounted nineteen, old and young, but I was too far away for a good shot."
The bear tracks led up stream. Leaving the horses to bathe and splash,Louis and Walter, who preferred to drink at a less muddy spot, pushedtheir way among the willows. A hundred yards up stream, they came to abend and shallows, caused by a limestone cliff.
"This is the bears' fording place," said Louis, "and a good one too. Notonly bears but men have been here," he added quickly, "and not long ago.Look."
On the bit of beach at the base of the cliff lay a little heap of charredwood and ashes. Near by, clearly imprinted in the damp sand, were foottracks and marks that must have been made by the bow of a boat.
"Indians?" questioned Walter, the chill creeping up his spine again.
"Or white men," Louis returned. "These are moccasin prints, but the colorof the feet inside those moccasins I know no way to tell. There were twomen, that is plain, and one is tall, I think, for his feet are long. Theywere voyaging, those two, and stopped here to boil their tea. They havenot been gone many hours. That fire was burning since last night'sfrost." The Canadian boy's tone was careless. His curiosity had in it nosuggestion of fear.
Walter was more concerned. "Those Sioux," he ventured. "Do yousuppose----"
"No, no," came the prompt reply. "The Sioux had horses. They didn't comeby river. Sioux seldom travel by water. These men were white, or _boisbrules_, or Saulteux, or other Ojibwas. They had a birch canoe. No clumsywooden boat or dugout made that mark." Louis examined the footprintsagain. "That one man is a big fellow truly. See how long his track is."The boy placed his own left foot in the most distinct of the prints. "Hemust be as tall as _le Murrai Noir_."