Read South from Hudson Bay: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys Page 8


  VII NORWAY HOUSE

  The first thing Walter did when he woke the next morning was to noticethe direction of the wind. Though light it was favorable. That made a dayof easy, restful sailing. The weary men sat and lay about in as lazypositions as the well-filled boat would permit, while the women busiedthemselves with knitting and mending. The journey was a hard one onclothes, even of the stoutest materials, but by mending and darningwhenever they had a chance, and by washing soiled things out at night andhanging them around the fire to dry, the Swiss managed to keep themselvesfairly neat and clean. They had not been in the wilds long enough to growcareless.

  The following day's journey commenced with a portage. The brigade wasgoing up the Jack River, which was short but full of rapids. All therivers in this country were made up of rapids, it seemed to Walter. Thencame another period of ease on Knee Lake, so called from an angle like abent knee. About twenty miles were made that day, one of the best of thetrip.

  The hard work was not over by any means. On Trout River were some of theworst portages of all. A waterfall, plunging down fifteen or sixteenfeet, obstructed the passage. The boats were unloaded and dragged andcarried up a rugged trail, to be launched again over steep rocks.

  On Holey Lake,--named from a deep spot believed by the Indians to bebottomless,--was Oxford House, a Hudson Bay Company post. The boats madea short stop there, then went on to pitch camp on one of the islands. Thewaters abounded in fish. With trolling lines Walter and his companionscaught lake trout enough for both supper and breakfast. The fish, broiledover the coals, were a luxury after days of pemmican and hard dried meat.

  A narrow river, more portages, a little pond, a deep stream flowingthrough flat, marshy land, followed Holey Lake. In strong contrast wasthe passage called Hell Gates, a narrow cut with sheer cliffs so close oneither hand that there was not always room to use the oars.

  A whole day was spent in passing the White Falls, where everything had tobe carried a long mile. Three of the crews made the crossing at the sametime, crowding each other on the portage. The Swiss caught the voyageurs'spirit of good-natured rivalry and entered heartily into the contest tosee which crew would get boat and cargo over in the shortest time. With aninety pound sack of pemmican, Walter trotted over the slippery trail andwon a grin from Louis.

  "You will make a good voyageur when you have gone two or three voyages,"said the young Canadian.

  By the time Walter had helped to drag the heavy boat across three rockridges, which caused three separate waterfalls, he felt that one voyagewould be quite enough. Yet he was not too tired to dance a jig when helearned that his boat had won.

  Small lakes, connected by narrow, grassy streams, gave relief fromportaging, tracking, and poling. Muskrat houses, conical heaps of mud anddebris, rose above the grass in the swamps, and ducks flew up as theboats approached. The sight of those ducks made Walter's mouth water. Hisregular portion of pemmican or dried meat left him hungry enough to eatat least twice as much. He had not had a really satisfying meal sinceleaving Holey Lake. Yet he could do a harder day's work and be far lesstired than at the beginning of the trip. His muscles had hardened, and hecarried not one pound of extra weight. During the cold nights he wouldhave been glad of a layer of fat to keep him warm.

  The boat was sailing along a sluggish, marshy stream, when Louis, who wasin the bow picking the channel, raised a shout. "The Painted Stone," hecried, pointing ahead.

  "I don't see any stone, painted or not," Walter returned, gazing in thesame direction.

  Louis laughed. "There used to be such a stone,--so they say. The Indiansworshiped it."

  "But why make such a fuss about a stone that isn't there?"

  Again Louis laughed. "Do you see that flat rock? Perhaps it was paintedonce, I do not know, but it marks the Height of Land. All the way we havecome up and up, but from there we go down stream,--until we come to SeaRiver, which is a part of the Nelson and takes us to Lake Winnipeg. Isn'tthat something to make a fuss about?"

  "It's the best news I have heard in many a day," Walter agreed.

  A short portage at the Height of Land brought the boats to the EchemamisRiver, where they were headed down stream into a rush-grown lake,connected by a creek with the Sea River. This stream is a part of theNelson, which rises in Lake Winnipeg, so the brigade had to go againstthe current to Lower Play Green Lake and Little Jack River.

  From a log cabin on the shore of Little Jack, a bearded, buckskin-cladman came down to the water's edge. Louis called to ask if he had anyfish. The man shook his head. The first boat had taken all he couldspare. The fisherman, Louis explained, supplied trout and sturgeon toNorway House.

  Many a time during the trip Walter had heard of Norway House, animportant Hudson Bay Company post. "Isn't that on Lake Winnipeg?" hecried. "Are we so near the lake?"

  "We shall be there to-morrow."

  Before sunrise next morning, the voyageurs bathed and scrubbed in LittleJack's cold, muddy-looking water. They appeared at starting time inclean, bright calico shirts, and new moccasins elaborately embroidered.Louis and the Orkneyman wore gaudy sashes. A broad leather belt girt thesteersman's middle and held his beaded deerskin pouch. Around his oilyblack hair he had bound a scarlet silk handkerchief. The Orkneyman hadtrimmed his yellow beard. No hair seemed to grow on Murray's face.Possibly it had been plucked out, Indian fashion.

  Little Jack River is merely a channel winding about among the islandsthat separate Lower and Upper Play Green lakes, extensions of LakeWinnipeg. Louis told Walter that the "play green" was on one of theislands, where two bands of Indians had been accustomed to meet and holdfeasts and games of strength and skill.

  Not a hundred yards behind the guide's boat, number three came in sightof Norway Point, the tip of the narrow peninsula separating Upper PlayGreen Lake from Lake Winnipeg proper. Shouts and cheers greeted the logwall of Norway House and the flag of the Hudson Bay Company. The Swisswere in high spirits. Once more they were nearing a land where men dwelt.Their journey would soon be over, they believed. Not yet could they graspthe vastness of this new world.

  As the boats drew near the post, dogs began to bark and men came runningdown to the shore. Voices shouted greetings in English and French, notmerely to the voyageurs, but to the immigrants as well. Though the furtraders, trappers, and voyageurs were reluctant to see their wildernessopened up to settlement, yet the arrival of the white strangers, eventhough they were settlers, was too important a break in the monotony oflife at the trading post for their welcome to be other than cordial.Moreover the white men and half-breeds at Norway House, and even theIndians camped outside the walls, were curious to see these newimmigrants. So the Swiss were welcomed warmly by bronzed white men anddusky-faced mixed bloods, while the full blood Indians looked on withsilent but intent curiosity.

  The first boats to arrive made a stay of several hours at the post, andWalter, conducted by Louis, had a good chance to see the place. Like YorkFactory, Norway House consisted of a group of log buildings within astockade, but it stood on dry ground, not in a swamp, and itssurroundings were far more attractive than those of the Hudson Bay fort.

  As the two boys were coming out of the big gate, after their tour ofinspection, Walter, who was ahead, caught sight of a tall figuredisappearing around one corner of the stockade. He glanced towards theshore. The boats were deserted. The voyageurs had sought friends withinthe stockade or in the tents and cabins outside the walls. The Swiss werevisiting the fort or wandering about the point.

  "Do we take on more supplies here?" Walter asked his companion.

  "If we can get them," Louis returned. "They can spare little here, theysay. Are you so starved that you think of food all the time?" hequestioned smilingly.

  "No, I'm not quite so hungry as that. I just saw Murray carrying a sack,and I wondered what he had." Louis looked towards the boats. "Where ishe? I don't see him."

  "He didn't go to the boat. He was coming the other
way. He went aroundthe corner of the wall."

  "With an empty sack?"

  "No, a full one."

  Louis stared at the corner bastion. "He was going around there, carryinga full sack? You are sure it was Murray?"

  "I saw his back, but I'm sure. He has that red handkerchief around hishead, you know."

  "Well, it was not anything for us he was taking in that direction," Louiscommented, "and we brought nothing to be left at Norway House. It is someaffair of his own. He----"

  "Ho, Louis Brabant! What is the news from the north?"

  Louis had swung about at the first word. Two buckskin-clad men, one old,the other young, were coming through the gate. Louis turned back toreply, and Walter followed him to listen to the exchange of news betweenthe newly arrived voyageur and these two employees of the post. The Swissboy was growing used to the Canadian French tongue, and during theconversation he learned several things that surprised him.

  Walter had taken for granted that the journey would be nearly over whenLake Winnipeg was reached. Now he was amazed to learn that he had stillmore than three hundred miles to go to Fort Douglas, the stronghold ofthe Red River colony.

  "But how far have we come?" he cried.

  "About four hundred and thirty miles the way you traveled," theleather-faced old man answered promptly.

  "The rest of the voyage will not be so hard though," Louis saidreassuringly. "There are few portages. If the wind is fair, we can sailmost of the way. Of course if there are storms on the lake----"

  "There are always storms this time of year," put in the old voyageurdiscouragingly.

  The prospect of bad weather on Lake Winnipeg did not disturb Walter somuch, however, as a piece of news which the old man led up to with thequestion, "How is it that settlers are still coming to the Colony on theRed River now that Lord Selkirk is dead?"

  "Lord Selkirk dead?" cried Walter and Louis together.

  "But yes, that is what people say. I was at Fort Douglas in June, andeveryone there was talking about it, and wondering what would happen tothe settlement."

  "They did not tell us that at Fort York," cried Walter. "When did he die?Since we left Europe in May?"

  "No, no, the news could not come to the Red River so quickly. It was lastyear some time he died."

  "You haven't heard of this before, Louis?" Walter turned to hiscompanion.

  "No, I heard nothing of it when I came down the Red River in the spring.I left Pembina as soon as the ice was out, and at Fort Douglas I tookservice with the Company, but I did not stay there long. They sent me onhere to Norway House. I heard no such story. Perhaps it is not true, butonly a false rumor started by someone who wishes to make trouble in thecolony."

  "That must be it," agreed Walter. "If Lord Selkirk died last year theywould surely have heard it at Fort York. Captain Mai would have known itanyway before we left Switzerland. No, it can't be true."

  But the old voyageur shook his head. "Everyone at Fort Douglas believedit," he said.