The Great Lone Land: A Narrative of Travel and Adventure in the North-West of AmericaButler, William Francis, Sir
History
The Great Lone Land: A Narrative of Travel and Adventure in the North-West of America
Butler, William Francis, Sir
Northwest, Canadian -- Description and travel
Towards evening on the 3rd it fell a dead calm, and the heavy boat could
make but little progress against the strong running current of the river,
so I bethought me of the little birch-bark canoe which I had brought from
Rat Portage; it was a very tiny one, but that was no hindrance to the
work I now\ required of it. We had been sailing all day, so my men were
fresh. At supper I proposed that Samuel, Monkman, and William Prince
should come on with me during the night, that we would leave Thomas Hope
in command of the big boat and push on for the fort in the light canoe,
taking with us only sufficient food for one meal. The three men at once
assented, and Thomas was delighted at the prospect of one last grand feed
all to himself, besides the great honour of being promoted to the rank
and dignity of Captain of the boat. So we got the little craft out, and
having gummed her all over, started once more on our upward way just as
the shadows of the night began to close around the river. We were four in
number, quite as many as the canoe could carry; she was very low in the
water and, owing to some damage received in the rough waves of the Lake
of the Woods, soon began to leak badly. Once we put ashore to gum and
pitch her seams again, but still the water oozed in and we were wet. What
was to be done? with these delays we never could hope to reach the fort
by daybreak, and something told me instinctively, that unless I did get
there that night I would find the Expedition already arrived. Just at
that moment we descried smoke rising amidst the trees on the right shore,
and soon saw the poles of Indian lodges. The men said they were very bad
Indians. firom the American side--the left shore of Rainy River is
American territory--but the chance of a bad Indian was better than the
certainty of a bad canoe, and we stopped at the camp. A lot of half-naked
redskins came out of the trees, and the pow-wow commenced. I gave them
all tobacco, and then asked if they would give me a good canoe in
exchange for my bad one, telling them that I would give them a present
next day at the fort if one or two amongst them would come up there.
After a short parley they assented, and a beautiful canoe was brought out
and placed on the water. They also gave us a supply of dried sturgeon,
and, again shaking hands all round, we departed on our way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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