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ON entering the camp that
night my first inquiry was for "Frightens Him's" lodge. This was pointed out
to me, and in a moment I stood at the chief's door. The old man was there to
meet me, and I was welcomed most heartily. "Surely the Great Spirit has sent
you, John," was the manner of his greeting; "come into my lodge, behold it
is yours." I pulled my dogs out of their collars, left a message for some
one to pilot my men to where I was, and went in to be given the guest-seat
of honor.
"Sayaketmat," I said,
addressing the chief by his Cree name, "I am here on a mission. I have much
to say to the camps, and I wish you would send messengers to each one,
telling them that John wants to see the chiefs and head men assembled here
the day after to-morrow. Here is tobacco. Word your summons as you please,
but tell them that John brings greetings and messages and help, and fain
would see and speak with them two nights from now."
In a little while the runners
were away, and soon fifteen large camps would know of our arrival, for I
found that this was a big preconcerted rendezvous, and that within twenty
miles of where I sat in Sayaketmat's lodge there were gathered several
thousand Plain and Wood Crees, as well as a number of Saulteaux. The chief
soon let me know that evil counsel was predominating in these camps, but
said, "Who knows but that your visit at this time, coming as you have so
unexpectedly, and so welcome to some of us, will turn the whole tide of
feeling?" I very soon let him know what my programme was, and saw that it
met with his decided approval. In came my men, and we were domiciled in the
big lodge, and until midnight were stared at and interviewed by alternating
crowds who came and went as space allowed, and then, tired and worn with
nervous and physical strain, we slept until the camp stir awakened us on the
early Sabbath morning.
The site of the camp was on
an elevation several hundreds of feet above the surrounding country; at a
glance one could look across an expanse of from fifty to seventy-five miles
of country. A congregation of curious yet earnest listeners gathered for
service in the morning. It was a motley throng; all colors of paint, all
manner of costume, all sorts of men—murderers, horse thieves, warriors,
braves, chiefs and common men, polygamists and monogamists—a strange
mixture, but they behaved wondrously well while I did what I could in
directing their thought Godward. Twice I spoke in the big open, and held
several services in lodges, and thus the day passed while all looked forward
to the general gathering Monday morning. These before us were comparatively
known quantities; the most of them we had met before in divers places and
also in divers conditions; but tomorrow would come the strangers and wild
men who, reasonably or unreasonably, hated the white man and now charged up
to him all trouble and disease and hunger, made him the cause of many
deaths, said he was the evil genius, and were harboring a growing spirit of
revenge in their hearts. How would they receive me on the morning of the day
approaching? I can assure my reader I was a bit nervous that Sunday night,
but was so downright weary that I soon forgot everything in sound sleep,
after leaving the whole matter in the hands of my Heavenly Father.
Monday morning came bright,
cold and calm. I rose early and went out to view my surroundings. Young men
were starting for the distant caches of meat, and women striking out with
dogs and horses harnessed into travois for fresh supplies of wood. Scores of
women also were stretching and scraping robes and hides in the various
processes of preparing and dressing these, when suddenly, like a bolt out of
a clear sky, dark clouds gathered and burst, and a terrible storm was upon
us. In a lifetime on the frontier, and in countless storms, I do not
remember anything quite so sudden or severe as that blizzard which came to
us at the Hand Hills in February of 1871. I thought of the many from the
other camps who in all probability at my request were crossing the prairie
stretches to come to my meeting. In common with hundreds I thought of the
many who had gone forth for wood and meat and in search of horses, many of
whom were women and girls, and poorly clad at that, and my heart went down
in me for a time. I felt in a measure responsible for a lot of this
suffering and possible death, but here was the big storm making everything
hum about us and making every one work to keep lodges erect and fires going.
For six hours this sudden paroxysm of Nature's forces fumed and raged and
tore over our camp, and doubtless over a large area of country about us.
Tens of thousands of millions of sharply frozen moisture assailed us from
every point of the compass. Down went the temperature, and doubtless it was
this action of the Storm King that gave us, about three p.m., a clear sky
and the already guaranteed promise of from forty to fifty below zero for the
night quickly coming.
And now to the rescue! Out in
every direction issued parents and brothers and friends to seek their loved
ones. I fully expected many deaths, and if the people of this camp had not
been prepared by the centuries for the rigors of a northern clime many would
have perished. But these mothers and daughters and sons, the product of
generations of struggling with northern winters and endless plains, did the
best possible to be done under such circumstances, and either went with the
storm or lay quiet under it until the worst was spent. Thus the searchers
and rescuers found them, and by dark began to bring in the numb and frozen
and almost perished victims.
"John, come to my mother!"
"John, come to my sister!" "John, come to my son!" Come quick, John!" came
the appeal to me from all sides, and with a little cayenne pepper, the only
medicine I had, I went around from camp to camp helping to rub back to life,
administering a warm drink, dropping on my knees beside an unconscious
patient and offering a short prayer, which was a new evangel to the hearts
and ears of those who listened around the lodge fires that night. All the
while anxiety was heavy on me concerning the many probable victims of the
storm. About midnight there were arrivals from other camps, in twos and
threes and more, and I listened for the sound of mourning and wailing, and
was in great suspense as to the re- suit of my mission. It was a long, weary
night which preceded the morning of Tuesday, but morning finally came, and
was as if this world never knew a storm so far as sky and sun and landscape
glory were concerned.
Again the crier went forth,
"Come to the centre of the camp! come and listen to John and in a short time
the large space was filling up. As I stood and looked into the many strange
faces before me, I could not help wondering how these wild, sullen,
disappointed and bereaved and ofttimes hungry men would receive my message.
I often think of the endurance of that audience. The floor on which they
stood was frozen prairie, with ice and snow for paint and varnish. The
temperature was down, I do not know where, for there was no thermometer
within two hundred miles of us. My breath became ice and hung as such upon
moustache and beard. I spoke for a full hour or more. I brought them the
greetings of the northern settlements; told them that both white and red men
were interested in them and sorrowed with them, and that my mission was to
tell them that we, like them, had suffered; that the anxiety about them had
resulted in my being sent by the Church and the great Company which had
dwelt amongst and traded with their people for many generations; that I did
not come empty-handed, or with lip sympathy merely, but I had with me
something for them to smoke, and also ammunition and flints and gun-worms
for their hunting and for protection from their enemies; that it was the
wish of all to help them. Great had been our mutual sorrow; doubtless we all
had sinned, and our Great Father had permitted this disease to come, and we
in common with many others were punished. As brave men it became us to
resignedly accept our punishment, and to repent of our past wrong-doing and
turn unto the great and good Spirit and live. I told them that we had not
been alone: that across the great waters a most fearful war had been going
on; that while we had lost hundreds by disease, over there tens of thousands
had been slaughtered. I gave them a picture of the siege of Paris, the
starvation and death and disease that accompanied it, and the terrible
slaughter of the Franco- Prussian battles, fresh on my brain from the papers
of the last packet. I wound up by saying, "I will gladly carry your messages
to those forts and settlements on the Saskatchewan, and when we are through
my men will distribute the gifts we have brought as the evidence of the
good-will and wishes of your old friends, the Hudson's Bay Company."
When I ceased speaking the
head chief present, Sweet Grass, rose, and addressing the assembly asked,
"Will I voice this multitude?" and there came back a thundering answer,
"Yes!" Then turning to me he said: "We are thankful that our friends in the
north have not forgotten us. In sorrow and in hunger and with many hardships
we have gathered here, where we have grass and timber, and, since we came,
buffalo in the distance, few, though still sufficient to keep us alive. We
have grumbled at hunger and disease and long travel through many storms and
cold; our hearts have been hard, and we have had bitter thoughts and
doubtless said many foolish and bad words, but it is true, as you say, John,
we have sinned, and we must bear our punishment. My people are thankful for
your coming to us; we are thankful that your father sent you, that the
Company chief asked you to come. We believe you, John; you belong to us,
therefore you were not afraid to come the long distance and enter as a
friend into our camp and lodges. Some of us have met you before; we have
listened to you because of what you said, but more because of the way you
have spoken even in our own language and as one of ourselves. Yes, John, all
these men and women and children from to-day are your friends, and as you
leave us we will think of you and wish you prosperity and blessing. Your
coming has done us good; it has stayed evil and turned our thoughts to
better things. We feel to-day we are not alone; man is numerous and God is
great. We are thankful for the gifts you have brought with you. We will
smoke and forget, and if there has been wrong will forgive. These women will
drink the tea, and bless the 'trading chief,' and bless John. Tell the
'trading chief' we thank him, and as in the past will again frequent his
forts and posts. Tell your father we thank him for his son and all his good
wishes for us and our people." Then, turning around in appeal to the crowd,
he asked, Have I spoken your minds ?" and again a great "Yes" came with loud
assent.
And. now we placed the people
in lines and circles, and my men and a few Indians I had selected went at
the work of distribution. Powder and balls and tobacco and tea and sugar and
gun-flints and gun-worms were given out, and never in my life did I witness
a more thankful and delighted crowd. Many a warm grip of the hand came to me
from men whom I had never previously seen. Little Pine, who had been quoted
as saying that he would kill my father the first chance he had, came to me
and said, "You have changed my heart, John; henceforth I will think good of
you and all your people." Ere long the last load of powder was given and the
last pipeful of tobacco carefully wrapped up or put away in the pouch of
some brave, and our present mission was done in this camp. I shouted to the
crowd: "We were five nights corning to see you, and, as you well know, we
travelled hard; but we know that your friends in the north are so anxious to
hear of you and to learn of your condition that my men and self will take
but three nights to reach Edmonton, when we will tell them of how we found
you, and will carry your kindly greetings to the 'trading chief' and in turn
to all the people of the north."
This was received with great
approval and shouts of "You can do it, John, if any one can."
It was late in the afternoon
when we left the rows and circles of lodges and took the trail leading over
the summit of the hills. We carried wood on our sleds and camped for a few
hours as night came on at the foot of the high range, and long before
daylight struck for the "north country." I remember well how my men handled
axes the next night "Now we will have a fire," was the frequent exclamation
from their lips.
Early Saturday afternoon we
were on the brink of the high bank of the noble Saskatchewan. It would seem
that some of the men were watching for and at once recognized us, for up
went the old flag and down the long hill we tobogganed after our eager dogs,
and across the ice and up the bank, to be met at the fort's gates by all the
inhabitants, at the head of them the Chief Factor and my father and
brother-in- law, Hardisty. The two latter had come up all the way from
'Victoria to watch for our coming, so anxious were they, as indeed were all
the settlements along the river. We were many times welcome, and when I had
opportunity to report there was much rejoicing. The dark spell was broken,
and we now looked into the future with hope for brighter days.
The grateful Chief Factor
took me into his office and told me that while he remained in charge of the
Saskatchewan district I should rank as an officer of the Company—that is, I
should have the entry of their forts and posts, be furnished with provisions
and even transports if I should need them, also be given a liberal discount
on any purchase I might make for family or self from any of their stores;
all of which was helpful to my work and gave me as a missionary and man in
the country a standing of respect and influence. Father was delighted with
the success of my mission, and Hardisty warmed to me more than ever.
Monday we started east and
reached Victoria Tuesday evening, and again resumed the routine duties of
our life. A trip to White Fish Like was undertaken, followed by several
trips to Indian camps, where from lodge to lodge we preached and lectured,
sowing the seeds of faith in God and man and country. Many an hour around
the camp-fire the eye glistened and the ear was tense, and the hearts of
strong men were moved, as in answer to some pertinent question we talked of
law and government and civilization and Christianity. No idle time was ours;
father was incessant, and if we had wished to loiter he would have none of
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