Forest, Lake and Prairie: Twenty Years of Frontier Life in Western Canada—1842-62McDougall, John
History
Forest, Lake and Prairie: Twenty Years of Frontier Life in Western Canada—1842-62
McDougall, John
Frontier and pioneer life -- Northwest, Canadian; McDougall, John, 1842-1917; Northwest, Canadian -- Description and travel
Now we made a strong "log cache," and stored our fish in it, putting
tent and nets and everything with the fish; and having finished our
dog-sleighs, or toboggans, we contemplated starting in the morning
for home, though there was as yet no snow. As it was moonlight, I
proposed to Neils that we start at once.
So we loaded up, hitched our dogs and set out. What a time we
had--bare ground, fallen timber, stumps and hills; and, to make
matters worse, while we were making a fire about midnight to cook our
last duck, which we had saved for days for this very purpose, the
dogs stole it, and our disappointment was bitter. We had cleaned
that duck, and had it all ready to cook, and looked forward to
picking its bones ourselves. We craved the change in diet, even if
it was only from fish to a fishy duck; but just as we had the prize,
the contemptible dogs stole it, and though it is now thirty-two years
since this happened, I can still very strongly sympathize with Neils
and myself.
We thawed and roasted a fish, and started on, and about two o'clock
in the morning came upon a solitary lodge right on the road. This
proved to be a wood Stoney, Peter Pe-kah-ches. He and his family
were starving. There was no snow, and everything being crisp with
frost, he could not approach game. Peter was a renowned hunter, but
the season was against him, and thus he was starving. We gave him
part of our fish, and received the heart-felt blessings of the whole
family, who hardly waited to thaw some of the fish until they ate
them.
This lightened our hearts and our loads also, and we went on and
reached home before daylight.
CHAPTER XLI.
Mr. O. B.--The murderer--The liquor keg.
In the meantime an old wandering-Jew kind of man, one of those human
beings who seem to be trying to hide away from themselves, had turned
up, and was domiciled with Mr. Woolsey. He had come across the
plains from Fort Garry with a party of white men, who grew tired of
him and dumped him at Fort Carlton, where I saw him when I landed
from the boats in the summer. He had come on to Edmonton with the
Hudson's Bay Company's carts, and there was thrown out by a rule made
by the Hudson's Bay Company's Governor, Dallas, that no Hudson's Bay
officer should allow any stragglers to stay around the post. The
penalty for doing this was a fine upon the officer in charge of ten
shillings sterling per day. Someone suggested Mr. Woolsey, and Mr.
O. B. (for that was his name) came by first opportunity to Mr.
Woolsey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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