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Among the Red-skins: or, Over the Rocky Mountains

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Chapter Six.
Paddling up Stream

The First Camp – Rapids – A Portage – Indians Attack the Canoes – A Race for Life – He’s Won just in Time – More Rapids in an Awkward Place – The Canoes Poled up Stream – An Upset – The Indians Again, and Hugh in Danger – Other Canoes to the Rescue

For the first day we made good progress, stopping only a short time to land and cook our provisions. We then paddled on until nearly dark, when we went on shore, unloaded our canoes, hauled them up, lighted a fire for cooking, and pitched a small tent for Rose, in front of which Madge, as she always afterwards did, took up her post to be ready to guard her in case of danger.

As soon as supper was over, two men were placed on watch, and the rest of the party lay down round the fire with our buffalo-robes spread on fresh spruce or pine boughs as beds. Before dawn we were aroused by Uncle Donald.

The morning was calm, the stars were slightly paling, a cold yellow light began to show itself. Above the river floated a light mist through which objects on the opposite bank were dimly seen, while on the land side a wall of forest rose up impenetrable to the eye. From the dying embers of the camp fire a thin column of smoke rose high above the trees, while round it were the silent forms of the Indians, lying motionless at full length on their backs, enveloped in their blankets. To stretch my legs I walked a few paces from the camp, when I was startled by a sudden rush through the underbrush. For a moment I thought of the Blackfeet, but the movement proved to be made by a minx or marten, which had been attracted to the spot by the remains of last night’s meal.

On hearing Uncle Donald’s voice the Indians started to their feet, and after a hurried breakfast, the canoes being launched and the baggage stowed on board, we proceeded on our voyage. The mist by degrees cleared away, the sun mounting over the hills, lighted up the scenery, and our crews burst into one of the songs with which they were wont to beguile the time while plying their paddles. Having stopped as before to dine we were paddling on, when we heard a low ceaseless roar coming down between the high banks. In a short time we saw the waters rushing and foaming ahead of us, as they fell over a broad ledge of rocks.

“Can we get over there?” asked Hugh.

“No,” I answered; “see, Uncle Donald is steering in for the shore.”

We soon landed, the canoes were unloaded, and being hauled up the bank, each was placed on the shoulders of two men, who trotted off with them by a path parallel to the river; the rest loaded themselves with the bales. Hugh and I imitated their example, Madge carried as heavy a package as any of the men, and Rose begged that she might take charge of a small bundle, with which she trotted merrily off, but did not refuse to let Madge have it before she had gone half-way. After proceeding for nearly a mile among rocks and trees, the canoes were placed on the banks where the river flowed calmly by, and the men returned for the remainder of the baggage. Three trips had to be made to convey the whole of the cargoes above the falls. This is what is called “making a portage.”

Re-embarking, on we went until nightfall. During the next few days we had several such portages to make. We were at times able to hoist our sails, but when the stream became more rapid and shallow, we took to poling, a less pleasant way of progressing, though under these circumstances the only one available. Occasionally the river opened out, and we were able to resume our paddles.

We had just taken them in hand and were passing along the east bank when Hugh exclaimed, “I see some one moving on shore among the trees! Yes, I thought so; he’s an Indian,” and he immediately added, “there are several more.”

I shouted to Uncle Donald to tell him, and then turned to warn Pierre and Corney.

Scarcely had I spoken than well-nigh fifty savages appeared on the banks, and, yelling loudly, let fly a cloud of arrows towards us, while one of them shouted to us to come to shore.

“Very likely we’ll be after doin’ that, Mister Red-skins,” cried Corney.

And we all, following Uncle Donald’s example, turning the heads of our canoes, paddled towards the opposite bank.

We were safe for the present, and might, had we chosen, have picked off several of the savages with our rifles; Corney and Pierre had lifted theirs for the purpose, but Uncle Donald ordered them not to fire.

“Should we kill any of them we should only find it more difficult to make peace afterwards,” he observed.

The river was here wide enough to enable us to keep beyond range of their arrows, and we continued our course paddling along close to the western bank. After going a short distance we saw ahead of us a lake, which we should have to cross. The Indians had disappeared, and I hoped we had seen the last of them, when Corney shouted out that he had caught sight of them running alone; the shore of the lake to double round it. Their object in so doing was evident, for on the opposite side of the upper river entered the lake, rounding a point by a narrow passage, and this point they hoped to gain before we could get through, so that they might stop our progress.

“Paddle, lads – paddle for your lives!” cried Uncle Donald. “We must keep ahead of the red-skins if we wish to save our scalps.”

We did paddle with might and main, making the calm water bubble round the bows of our canoes.

Looking to our right, we every now and then caught a glimpse of the Blackfeet, for such we knew they were by their dress. They were bounding along in single file among the trees, led apparently by one of their most nimble warriors. It seemed very doubtful whether we could pass the point before they could reach it. We persevered, for otherwise we should be compelled either to turn back, or to run the risk of being attacked at one of the portages, or to land at the western side of the lake, and to throw up a fort in which we could defend ourselves should the Blackfeet make their way across the river. It was not likely, however, that they would do this. They had already ventured much farther to the north than it was their custom to make a raid; and should they be discovered, they would run the risk of being set upon by the Shoushwaps, the chief tribe inhabiting that part of the country, and their retreat cut off. Still it was of the greatest importance to lose no time, and we redoubled our efforts to get by the point. The Indians had a greater distance to go; but then they ran much faster than we could paddle our canoes. As we neared the point, I kept looking to the right to see how far our enemies had got. Again I caught a glimpse of their figures moving among the trees, but whether or not they were those of the leaders I could not distinguish.

Uncle Donald reached the point, and his canoe disappeared behind it. Hugh and I next came up, closely followed by the other two. We could hear the savage shouts and cries of the red-skins; but there was now a good chance of getting beyond their reach.

“There goes the captain’s canoe,” I heard Corney sing out; “paddle, boys, paddle, and we’ll give them the go-by!”

We had entered the upper branch of the river; the current ran smoothly. Still we were obliged to exert ourselves to force our canoes up against it. Looking back for a moment over my shoulder, I could see the leading Indians as they reached the point we had just rounded. Enraged at being too late to stop us, they expended another flight of arrows, several of which struck the water close to us, and two went through the after end of Pierre’s canoe, but fortunately above water.

Though we had escaped for the present, they might continue along the eastern bank of the river, and meet us at the next portage we should have to make. The day was wearing on, and ere long we should have to look out for a spot on which to camp, on the west bank, opposite to that where we had seen the Indians.

We had got four or five miles up the river when the roaring sound of rushing waters struck our ears, and we knew that we should have to make another portage. The only practicable one was on the east bank, and as it would occupy us the greater part of an hour, we could scarcely hope to escape the Indians, even should they not already have arrived at the spot. On the left rose a line of precipitous rocks, over which we should be unable to force our way. At length we got up to the foot of the rapids. Uncle Donald took a survey of them. I observed on the west side a sheet of water flowing down smoother and freer from rocks than the rest.

“We must pole up the rapids, but it will need caution; follow me,” said Uncle Donald.

We got out our long poles, and Uncle Donald leading the way, we commenced the ascent.

While resting on our paddles Corney and Pierre had overtaken us, and now followed astern of Uncle Donald, so that our canoe was the last. We had got nearly half-way up, the navigation becoming more difficult as we proceeded. The rocks extended farther and farther across the channel, the water leaping and hissing and foaming as it rushed by them. One of our Indians sat in the bows with a rope ready to jump out on the rocks and tow the canoe should the current prove too strong for us. Red Squirrel stood aft with pole in hand guiding the canoe, while Hugh and I worked our poles on either side. Corney and Pierre were at some little distance before us, while Uncle Donald, having a stronger crew, got well ahead.

“We shall soon be through this, I hope,” cried Hugh; “pretty tough work though.”

As he spoke he thrust down his pole, which must have been jammed in a hole, and his weight being thrown upon it, before he could recover it broke, and over he went; I in my eagerness, leaning on one side, attempted to grasp at him, the consequence was that the canoe, swinging round, was driven by the current against the rock. I heard a crash, the foaming water washed over us, and I found myself struggling in its midst. My first impulse was to strike out, for I had been a swimmer from childhood.

 

Notwithstanding, I found myself carried down. I looked out for Hugh, but the bubbling water blinded my eyes, and I could nowhere see him nor my Indian companions; still I instinctively struggled for life. Suddenly I found myself close to a rugged rock, whose sides afforded the means of holding on to it. By a violent effort I drew myself out of the water and climbed to the top. I looked round to see what had become of the rest of the crew; my eye first fell on the canoe, to which Hugh was clinging. It was being whirled hurriedly down the rapids; and some distance from it, indeed, almost close to where I now was, I saw the head of an Indian. His hands and feet were moving; but instead of trying to save himself by swimming towards the rock on which I was seated, he was evidently endeavouring to overtake the canoe. I could nowhere see our other companion; he had, I feared, sunk, sucked under by the current. A momentary glance showed me what I have described.

Directly I had recovered breath I shouted to Pierre and Corney, but the roar of the waters prevented them from hearing my voice; and they and their companions were so completely occupied in poling on their canoes that they did not observe what had occurred. Again and again I shouted; then I turned round, anxiously looking to see how it fared with Hugh and the Indian.

The canoe had almost reached the foot of the rapids, but it went much faster than the Indian, who was still bravely following it. He had caught hold of one of the paddles, which assisted to support him. I was now sure that his object was to assist Hugh, for he might, as I have said, by swimming to the rock and clutching it, have secured his own life until he could be taken off by Corney or Pierre. Hugh still held tight hold of the canoe, which, however, the moment it reached the foot of the rapids, began to drift over to the eastern shore.

Just then what was my dismay to see a number of red-skins rush out from the forest towards the bank. They were those, I had no doubt, from whom we were endeavouring to escape. They must have seen the canoe, and were rejoicing in the thoughts of the capture they were about to make. Hugh’s youth would not save him from the cruel sufferings to which they were wont to put their prisoners, should they get hold of him, and that they would do this seemed too probable. I almost wished, rather than he should have had to endure so cruel a fate, that he had sunk to the bottom. Even now the Indian might come up with the canoe, but would it be possible for him to tow it to the west bank, or support Hugh while swimming in the same direction. Though the rock was slippery I at length managed to stand up on it, and as I did so I gave as shrill a shout as I could utter. One of the Indians in Corney’s canoe glanced at me for a moment. He at once saw what had happened, and I guessed from his gestures was telling Pierre as well as Corney of the accident. In an instant the poles were thrown in, and the Indians seizing their paddles, the canoes, their heads turned round, were gliding like air bubbles down the torrent.

Chapter Seven.
A Narrow Escape

Hugh’s Canoe Arrested by Red Squirrel just in Time – The Canoe Saved – All got up the Rapids at Last – Camp at the Top – The Blackfeet reach the Camp to find the Party gone – The Indians Pursue, and Uncle Donald lies by for Two Days on an Island – End of the Water Passage – The Horses do not Appear

As Corney and Pierre approached I waved to them to go on, pointing to the canoe to which Hugh was clinging. They saw the necessity of at once going to his rescue, and so left me on the rock, where I was perfectly safe for the present. There was need, in truth, for them to make haste, for already Hugh was drifting within range of the Indians’ arrows, and they might shoot him in revenge for the long run we had given them.

The overturned canoe seemed to be gliding more and more rapidly towards them, when I saw its progress arrested.

The brave Indian had seized it, and was attempting to tow it away from the spot where the savages were collected. But all his efforts could scarcely do more than stop its way, and he apparently made but little progress towards the west shore. Corney and Pierre were, however, quickly getting up to it. I shouted with joy when I saw Hugh lifted into Corney’s canoe, and the Indian with some assistance clambering into that of Pierre. Not satisfied with this success they got hold of the canoe itself, determined to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy. This done, they quickly paddled over to the west shore, where a level spot enabled them to land. They had not forgotten me; and presently I saw Corney’s canoe, with three people in her, poling up towards the rock on which I stood, while Pierre’s was engaged in picking up such of the articles of baggage as had floated. It was not without some difficulty that I got on board. My first inquiry was to ascertain which of the Indians had assisted to save Hugh, and I was thankful to hear, as I had expected, that it was Bed Squirrel who had behaved so gallantly.

We then had to decide what to do – whether to continue our course upwards, to let Uncle Donald know what had happened, or to rejoin Pierre. Though I had managed to cling on to the rock I found my strength so much exhausted that I could afford but little help in poling up the canoe. While we were discussing the matter, what was my dismay to see an Indian on the top of the western cliff.

“Our enemies must have crossed, and we shall be attacked,” I exclaimed.

“Sure no, it’s one of Mr Donald’s men who has been sent to see what has become of us,” answered Corney.

Such I saw was the case. We could not hear his voice, but getting closer to us he made signs which his own people understood, that he would go back to Uncle Donald and learn what we were to do. In reply our two Indians pointed down to where Pierre’s party were now on shore, letting him understand exactly what had happened.

He quickly disappeared, and we had to wait some time, hanging on to a rock by a rope, until he returned with two other men. They then pointed up the stream as a sign to us that we were to proceed. We accordingly did so, poling up as before. By the time we got to the head of the rapids we saw that Pierre was coming after us, apparently towing the shattered canoe.

Above the rapids we discovered a small bay, towards which Uncle Donald’s voice summoned us. As we landed he grasped my hand, showing his joy at my escape. It was some time before Pierre arrived. Hugh came in his canoe, while the rest of the men had arrived over land with the luggage which had been saved, as also with our rifles, which, having been slung under the thwarts, had fortunately not slipped out.

We immediately began our preparations for camping, but had, besides doing what was usual, to collect materials for a stockade, which might enable us to resist a sudden onslaught of the Blackfeet should they cross the river. One of the men was also placed on watch all the time to prevent surprise.

While most of the party were thus engaged, Red Squirrel and Jock, who were the best canoe builders, were employed in repairing the shattered canoe, and making some fresh paddles and poles; indeed there was so much work to be done, that none of us got more than a few hours’ rest. We had also to keep a vigilant watch, and two of the men were constantly scouting outside the camp, to guard in more effectually from being taken by surprise.

All was ready for a start some time before daylight, when Uncle Donald, awakening the sleepers, ordered every one to get on board as noiselessly as possible. He, as usual, led the way, the other canoes following close astern. The last man was told to make up the fire, which was left burning to deceive the enemy, who would suppose that we were still encamped.

We had got some distance, the wind being up stream, when just at dawn I fancied that I heard a faint though prolonged yell. We stopped paddling for a moment, I asked Red Squirrel if he thought that the Blackfeet had got across to our camp. He nodded, and uttered a low laugh, significant of his satisfaction that we had deceived them. Daylight increasing, we put up our masts and hoisted the light cotton sails, which sent our canoes skimming over the water at a far greater speed than we had hitherto been able to move.

Another lake appeared before us. By crossing it we should be far ahead of the Blackfeet. We had brought some cooked provisions, so that we were able to breakfast in the canoes. It was long past noon before, the river having again narrowed, we ventured on shore for a brief time only to dine.

The next portage we came to was on the east bank. It was fortunately a short one, and Uncle Donald kept some of the men under arms, a portion only being engaged in carrying the canoes and their cargoes. No Indians, however, appeared.

“I hope that we have given them the go-by,” said Hugh, “and shall not again see their ugly faces.”

“We must not be too certain; I’ll ask Red Squirrel what he thinks,” I replied.

“Never trust a Blackfoot,” was the answer. “They are as cunning as serpents, and, like serpents, they strike their enemies from among the grass.”

We expected in the course of two or three days more to come to an end of the river navigation at a spot where Uncle Donald had directed that the horses should meet us. We were not without fear, however, that some, if not the whole of the animals, might have been stolen by the Blackfeet should they by any means have discovered them.

Occasionally sailing, sometimes paddling and poling, and now and then towing the canoes along the banks, we continued our progress. As we went along we kept a look-out for the Blackfeet, as it was more than possible that they might pursue us. We accordingly, in preference to landing on either bank, selected an island in the centre of the stream for our camping-ground.

We had just drawn up the canoes among the bushes and formed our camp in an open spot near the middle of the island, when one of the men who was on the lookout brought word that he saw a large number of savages passing on the east bank. We were, however, perfectly concealed from their keen eyes. Watching them attentively, we guessed by their gestures that they were looking for us, and not seeing our canoes, fancied that we had passed on. Night was now approaching. We were afraid of lighting a fire, lest its glare might betray our position to our pursuers. They would, however, on not discovering us, turn back, so that we should thus meet them, and Uncle Donald resolved, therefore, to remain where we were, until they had retreated to the southward. Even should they discover us we might defend the island more easily than any other spot we could select. We had plenty of provisions, so that we could remain there without inconvenience for several days, except that we should thus delay our passage over the mountains. Hugh and I were, much to our satisfaction, appointed by Uncle Donald to keep watch, Hugh on one side of the island and I on the other, for fear lest, should the red-skins find out where we were, they might attempt, by swimming across, to take us by surprise.

None appeared, however, and two more days went by. At last Uncle Donald began to hope that they, supposing we had taken another route, were on their way back. We accordingly, seeing no one the next morning, embarked, and the river here expanding into a lake, we were able to paddle on without impediment across it, and a short distance up another stream, when we came to a fall of several feet, beyond which our canoes could not proceed. This was the spot where we had expected to find the horses, but they had not arrived. We were greatly disappointed, for, having been much longer than we had calculated on coming up, we naturally expected that they would have been ready for us. Winter was rapidly approaching, and in the autumn before the streams are thoroughly frozen the dangers of crossing the mountains are greater than at any other period.

As the canoes could go no higher we took them up the stream and placed them “en cache,” where there was little chance of their being discovered. They were to remain there until the return of our men, who would accompany us to the foot of the mountains and go back again that autumn.

On not finding the horses Uncle Donald went to the highest hill in the neighbourhood, overlooking the country through which they had to pass, in the hopes of seeing them approach. He came back saying that he could perceive no signs of them, and he ordered us forthwith to camp in such a position that we might defend ourselves against any sudden attack of hostile Indians.

 
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