Pathfinding on Plain and Prairie: Stirring Scenes of Life in the Canadian North-westMcDougall, John
History
Pathfinding on Plain and Prairie: Stirring Scenes of Life in the Canadian North-west
McDougall, John
Frontier and pioneer life -- Northwest, Canadian; McDougall, John, 1842-1917; Northwest, Canadian -- Description and travel
Our living for the first week or two was very precarious. We had
with us my first cow, one I had traded from old Joseph. As there was
no one left at the lake, we had to take her along with us; but as she
gave no milk she was only a care and burden to the party. Rabbits,
ducks, geese, owls, hawks, bear, beaver, badger, porcupine,
skunk--there was certain variety in our bill of fare, but there was
no certain quantity of it. Sometimes we were filled, and oftentimes
we were empty, not knowing when or how we should get our next meal.
Our mode of transport was on horseback or on foot. As yet there were
no cart or waggon roads in or out of the Pigeon Lake country. Old
Paul, who was an invalid and could move only with difficulty because
of some spinal trouble, but who knew that part of the country as
other men knew their quarter-sections, sat on his horse and led the
way. Part of our able-bodied hunters scouted along the line of
march, while the others struck out on either hand in search of game.
Our whole camp, as to food supply, was communistic--we shared alike.
Weather permitting and provisions allowing it, we generally held two
services in the day. In the early morn, while the dew was on the
grass, we sang our hymns and knelt together in prayer. And in the
evening in camp, when the hunters had come in and our horses were
picketed or driven close and hobbled, again we met. I would read a
few verses and comment on them, and with hymn and prayer we closed
the day. And old Paul, life-long warrior and scout and hunter, what
delightful sites he chose for our camp! Security, utility and beauty
were sure to harmonize in his selection. Beside rippling stream or
glistening lakelet, with growing grass and budding flowers and leafy
foliage, with Mother Nature's breath full and fragrant of early
summer, how like hallowed sanctuaries those camping spots were!
Verily God blessed us as we journeyed, and souls were born again.
Samson and I were inseparable in those days. I wanted to be the
friend of all, but I could not help being his friend. We became
brothers in the regular native style, and cemented a bond which
continues unto this day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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