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
After all, I was not much too soon. When one has journeyed very far along
such a route as the one I had followed since leaving Fort Garry in daily
expectation of meeting with a body of men making their way from a distant
point through the same wilderness, one does not like the idea of being
found at last within the stockades of an Indian trading-post as though
one had quietly taken one's ease at an inn. Still there were others to be
consulted in the matter, others whose toil during the twenty-seven hours
of our continuous travel had been far greater than mine.
After an hour's delay I went to the house where the men were lying down,
and said to them, "The Colonel is close at hand. It will be well for us
to go and meet him, and we will thus see the soldiers before they arrive
at the Fort;" so getting the canoe out once more, we carried her above
the falls, and paddled up towards the Rainy Lake, whose waters flow into
Rainy River two miles above the fort.
It was the 4th of August-we reached the foot of the rapid which the river
makes as it flows out of the Lake. Forcing up this rapid, we saw
spreading out before us the broad waters of the Rainy Lake.
The eye of the half-breed or the Indian is of marvellous keenness; it.
can detect the presence of any strange object long before that object
will strike the vision of the civilized man; but on this occasion the
eyes of my men were at fault, and the glint of something strange upon the
lake first caught my sight. There they are! Yes, there they were. Coming
along with the full swing of eight paddles, swept a large North-west
canoe, its Iroquois paddlers timing their strokes to an old French chant
as they shot down towards the river's source.
Beyond, in the expanse of the lake, a boat or two showed far and faint.
We put into the rocky shore, and, mounting upon a crag which guarded the
head of the rapid, I waved to the leading canoe as it swept along. In the
centre sat a figure in uniform with forage-cap on head, and I could see
that he was scanning through a field-glass the strange figure that waved
a welcome from the rock. Soon they entered the rapid, and commenced to
dip down its rushing waters. Quitting the rock, I got again into my
canoe, and we shoved off into the current. Thus running down the rapid
the two canoes drew together, until at its foot they were only a few
paces apart.
Then the officer in the large canoe, recognizing a face he had last seen
three months before in the hotel at Toronto, called out, "Where on earth
have you dropped from?" and with a "Fort Garry, twelve days out, sir," I
was in his boat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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