the voyage—the encampment—a surprise.

it was a fine sight to see the boats depart for the north. it was a thrilling, heart-stirring sight to behold these picturesque, athletic men, on receiving the word of command from their guides, spring lightly into the long, heavy boats; to see them let the oars fall into the water with a loud splash, and then, taking their seats, give way with a will, knowing that the eyes of friends and sweethearts and rivals were bent earnestly upon them. it was a splendid sight to see boat after boat shoot out from the landing-place, and cut through the calm bosom of the river, as the men bent their sturdy backs, until the thick oars creaked and groaned on the gunwales and flashed in the stream, more and more vigorously at each successive stroke, until their friends on the bank, who were anxious to see the last of them, had to run faster and faster in order to keep up with them, as the rowers warmed at their work, and made the water gurgle at the bows—their bright blue and scarlet and white trappings reflected in the dark waters in broken masses of colour, streaked with long lines of shining ripples, as if they floated on a lake of liquid rainbows. and it was a glorious thing to hear the wild, plaintive song, led by one clear, sonorous voice, that rang out full and strong in the still air, while at the close of every two lines the whole brigade burst into a loud, enthusiastic chorus, that rolled far and wide over the smooth waters—telling of their approach to settlers beyond the reach of vision in advance, and floating faintly back, a last farewell, to the listening ears of fathers, mothers, wives, and sisters left behind. and it was interesting to observe how, as the rushing boats sped onwards past the cottages on shore, groups of men and women and children stood before the open doors and waved adieu, while ever and anon a solitary voice rang louder than the others in the chorus, and a pair of dark eyes grew brighter as a voyageur swept past his home, and recognised his little ones screaming farewell, and seeking to attract their sire’s attention by tossing their chubby arms or flourishing round their heads the bright vermilion blades of canoe paddles. it was interesting, too, to hear the men shout as they ran a small rapid which occurs about the lower part of the settlement, and dashed in full career up to the lower fort—which stands about twenty miles down the river from fort garry—and then sped onward again with unabated energy, until they passed the indian settlement, with its scattered wooden buildings and its small church; passed the last cottage on the bank; passed the low swampy land at the river’s mouth; and emerged at last, as evening closed, upon the wide, calm, sea-like bosom of lake winnipeg.

charley saw and heard all this during the whole of that long, exciting afternoon, and as he heard and saw it his heart swelled as if it would burst its prison-bars, his voice rang out wildly in the choruses, regardless alike of tune and time, and his spirit boiled within him as he quaffed the first sweet draught of a rover’s life—a life in the woods, the wild, free, enchanting woods, where all appeared in his eyes bright, and sunny, and green, and beautiful!

as the sun’s last rays sank in the west, and the clouds, losing their crimson hue, began gradually to fade into grey, the boats’ heads were turned landward. in a few seconds they grounded on a low point covered with small trees and bushes which stretched out into the lake. here louis peltier had resolved to bivouac for the night. “now then, mes garçons,” he exclaimed, leaping ashore, and helping to drag the boat a little way on to the beach, “vite, vite! à terre, à terre!—take the kettle, pierre, and let’s have supper.”

pierre needed no second bidding. he grasped a large tin kettle and an axe, with which he hurried into a clump of trees. laying down the kettle, which he had previously filled with water from the lake, he singled out a dead tree, and with three powerful blows of his axe brought it to the ground. a few additional strokes cut it up into logs, varying from three to five feet in length, which he piled together, first placing a small bundle of dry grass and twigs beneath them, and a few splinters of wood which he cut from off one of the logs. having accomplished this, pierre took a flint and steel out of a gaily ornamented pouch which depended from his waist, and which went by the name of a fire-bag in consequence of its containing the implements for procuring that element. it might have been as appropriately named tobacco-bag or smoking-bag, however, seeing that such things had more to do with it, if possible, than fire. having struck a spark, which he took captive by means of a piece of tinder, he placed it in the centre of a very dry handful of soft grass, and whirled it rapidly round his head, thereby producing a current of air, which blew the spark into a flame; which, when applied, lighted the grass and twigs; and so, in a few minutes, a blazing fire roared up among the trees—spouted volumes of sparks into the air, like a gigantic squib, which made it quite a marvel that all the bushes in the neighbourhood were not burnt up at once—glared out red and fierce upon the rippling water, until it became, as it were, red hot in the neighbourhood of the boats, and caused the night to become suddenly darker by contrast; the night reciprocating the compliment, as it grew later, by causing the space around the fire to glow brighter and brighter, until it became a brilliant chamber, surrounded by walls of the blackest ebony.

while pierre was thus engaged there were at least ten voyageurs similarly occupied. ten steels were made instrumental in creating ten sparks, which were severally captured by ten pieces of tinder, and whirled round by ten lusty arms, until ten flames were produced, and ten fires sprang up and flared wildly on the busy scene that had a few hours before been so calm, so solitary, and so peaceful, bathed in the soft beams of the setting sun.

in less than half an hour the several camps were completed, the kettles boiling over the fires, the men smoking in every variety of attitude, and talking loudly. it was a cheerful scene; and so charley thought as he reclined in his canvas tent, the opening of which faced the fire, and enabled him to see all that was going on.

pierre was standing over the great kettle, dancing round it, and making sudden plunges with a stick into it, in the desperate effort to stir its boiling contents—desperate, because the fire was very fierce and large, and the flames seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in leaping up suddenly just under pierre’s nose, thereby endangering his beard, or shooting out between his legs and licking round them at most unexpected moments, when the light wind ought to have been blowing them quite in the opposite direction; and then, as he danced round to the other side to avoid them, wheeling about and roaring viciously in his face, until it seemed as if the poor man would be roasted long before the supper was boiled. indeed, what between the ever-changing and violent flames, the rolling smoke, the steam from the kettle, the showering sparks, and the man’s own wild grimaces and violent antics, pierre seemed to charley like a raging demon, who danced not only round, but above, and on, and through, and in the flames, as if they were his natural element, in which he took special delight.

quite close to the tent the massive form of louis the guide lay extended, his back supported by the stump of a tree, his eyes blinking sleepily at the blaze, and his beloved pipe hanging from his lips, while wreaths of smoke encircled his head. louis’s day’s work was done. few could do a better; and when his work was over, louis always acted on the belief that his position and his years entitled him to rest, and took things very easy in consequence.

six of the boat’s crew sat in a semicircle beside the guide and fronting the fire, each paying particular attention to his pipe, and talking between the puffs to any one who chose to listen.

suddenly pierre vanished into the smoke and flames altogether, whence in another moment he issued, bearing in his hand the large tin kettle, which he deposited triumphantly at the feet of his comrades.

“now, then,” cried pierre.

it was unnecessary to have said even that much by way of invitation. voyageurs do not require to have their food pressed upon them after a hard day’s work. indeed, it was as much as they could do to refrain from laying violent hands on the kettle long before their worthy cook considered its contents sufficiently done.

charley sat in company with mr park—a chief factor, on his way to norway house. gibault, one of the men who acted as their servant, had placed a kettle of hot tea before them, which, with several slices of buffalo tongue, a lump of pemmican, and some hard biscuit and butter, formed their evening meal. indeed, we may add that these viands, during a great part of the voyage, constituted their every meal. in fact, they had no variety in their fare, except a wild duck or two now and then, and a goose when they chanced to shoot one.

charley sipped a pannikin of tea as he reclined on his blanket, and being somewhat fatigued in consequence of his exertions and excitement during the day, said nothing. mr park for the same reasons, besides being naturally taciturn, was equally mute; so they both enjoyed in silence the spectacle of the men eating their supper. and it was a sight worth seeing.

their food consisted of robbiboo, a compound of flour, pemmican, and water, boiled to the consistency of very thick soup. though not a species of food that would satisfy the fastidious taste of an epicure, robbiboo is, nevertheless, very wholesome, exceedingly nutritious, and withal palatable. pemmican, its principal component, is made of buffalo flesh, which fully equals (some think greatly excels) beef. the recipe for making it is as follows:— first kill your buffalo—a matter of considerable difficulty, by the way, as doing so requires you to travel to the buffalo-grounds, to arm yourself with a gun, and mount a horse, on which you have to gallop, perhaps, several miles over rough ground and among badger-holes, at the imminent risk of breaking your neck. then you have to run up alongside of a buffalo and put a ball through his heart, which, apart from the murderous nature of the action, is a difficult thing to do. but we will suppose that you have killed your buffalo. then you must skin him; then cut him up, and slice the flesh into layers, which must be dried in the sun. at this stage of the process you have produced a substance which in the fur countries goes by the name of dried meat, and is largely used as an article of food. as its name implies, it is very dry, and it is also very tough, and very undesirable if one can manage to procure anything better. but to proceed. having thus prepared dried meat, lay a quantity of it on a flat stone, and take another stone, with which pound it into shreds. you must then take the animal’s hide, while it is yet new, and make bags of it about two feet and a half long by a foot and a half broad. into this put the pounded meat loosely. melt the fat of your buffalo over a fire, and when quite liquid pour it into the bag until full; mix the contents well together; sew the whole up before it cools, and you have a bag of pemmican of about ninety pounds weight. this forms the chief food of the voyageur, in consequence of its being the largest possible quantity of sustenance compressed into the smallest possible space, and in an extremely convenient, portable shape. it will keep fresh for years, and has been much used, in consequence, by the heroes of arctic discovery, in their perilous journeys along the shores of the frozen sea.

the voyageurs used no plates. men who travel in these countries become independent of many things that are supposed to be necessary here. they sat in a circle round the kettle, each man armed with a large wooden or pewter spoon, with which he ladled the robbiboo down his capacious throat, in a style that not only caused charley to laugh, but afterwards threw him into a deep reverie on the powers of appetite in general, and the strength of voyageur stomachs in particular.

at first the keen edge of appetite induced the men to eat in silence; but as the contents of the kettle began to get low, their tongues loosened, and at last, when the kettles were emptied and the pipes filled, fresh logs thrown on the fires, and their limbs stretched out around them, the babel of english, french, and indian that arose was quite overwhelming. the middle-aged men told long stories of what they had done; the young men boasted of what they meant to do; while the more aged smiled, nodded, smoked their pipes, put in a word or two as occasion offered, and listened. while they conversed the quick ears of one of the men of charley’s camp detected some unusual sound.

“hist!” said he, turning his head aside slightly, in a listening attitude, while his comrades suddenly ceased their noisy laugh.

“do ducks travel in canoes hereabouts?” said the man, after a moment’s silence; “for, if not, there’s some one about to pay us a visit. i would wager my best gun that i hear the stroke of paddles.”

“if your ears had been sharper, françois, you might have heard them some time ago,” said the guide, shaking the ashes out of his pipe and refilling it for the third time.

“ah, louis, i do not pretend to such sharp ears as you possess, nor to such sharp wit either. but who do you think can be en route so late?”

“that my wit does not enable me to divine,” said louis; “but if you have any faith in the sharpness of your eyes, i would recommend you to go to the beach and see, as the best and shortest way of finding out.”

by this time the men had risen, and were peering out into the gloom in the direction whence the sound came, while one or two sauntered down to the margin of the lake to meet the newcomers.

“who can it be, i wonder?” said charley, who had left the tent, and was now standing beside the guide.

“difficult to say, monsieur. perhaps injins, though i thought there were none here just now. but i’m not surprised that we’ve attracted something to us. livin’ creeturs always come nat’rally to the light, and there’s plenty fire on the point to-night.”

“rather more than enough,” replied charley, abruptly, as a slight motion of wind sent the flames curling round his head and singed off his eyelashes. “why, louis, it’s my firm belief that if i ever get to the end of this journey, i’ll not have a hair left on my head.”

louis smiled.

“o monsieur, you will learn to observe things before you have been long in the wilderness. if you will edge round to leeward of the fire, you can’t expect it to respect you.”

just at this moment a loud hurrah rang through the copse, and harry somerville sprang over the fire into the arms of charley, who received him with a hug and a look of unutterable amazement.

“charley, my boy!”

“harry somerville, i declare!”

for at least five minutes charley could not recover his composure sufficiently to declare anything else, but stood with open mouth and eyes, and elevated eyebrows, looking at his young friend, who capered and danced round the fire in a manner that threw the cook’s performances in that line quite into the shade, while he continued all the time to shout fragments of sentences that were quite unintelligible to any one. it was evident that harry was in a state of immense delight at something unknown save to himself, but which, in the course of a few minutes, was revealed to his wondering friends.

“charley, i’m going! hurrah!” and he leaped about in a manner that induced charley to say he would not only be going, but very soon gone, if he did not keep further away from the fire.

“yes, charley, i’m going with you! i upset the stool, tilted the ink-bottle over the invoice-book, sent the poker almost through the back of the fireplace, and smashed tom whyte’s best whip on the back of the ‘noo ’oss,’ as i galloped him over the plains for the last time—all for joy, because i’m going with you, charley, my darling!”

here harry suddenly threw his arms round his friend’s neck, meditating an embrace. as both boys were rather fond of using their muscles violently, the embrace degenerated into a wrestle, which caused them to threaten complete destruction to the fire as they staggered in front of it, and ended in their tumbling against the tent, and nearly breaking its poles and fastenings, to the horror and indignation of mr park, who was smoking his pipe within, quietly waiting till harry’s superabundant glee was over, that he might get an explanation of his unexpected arrival among them.

“ah, they will be good voyageurs!” cried one of the men, as he looked on at this scene.

“oui, oui! good boys, active lads,” replied the others, laughing. the two boys rose hastily.

“yes,” cried harry, breathless, but still excited, “i’m going all the way, and a great deal farther. i’m going to hunt buffaloes in the saskatchewan, and grizzly bears in the—the—in fact everywhere! i’m going down the mackenzie river—i’m going mad, i believe;” and harry gave another caper and another shout, and tossed his cap high into the air. having been recklessly tossed, it came down into the fire. when it went in, it was dark blue; but when harry dashed into the flames in consternation to save it, it came out of a rich brown colour.

“now, youngster,” said mr park, “when you’ve done capering i should like to ask you one or two questions. what brought you here?”

“a canoe,” said harry, inclined to be impudent.

“oh! and pray for what purpose have you come here?”

“these are my credentials,” handing him a letter.

mr park opened the note and read.

“ah! oh! saskatchewan—hum—yes—outpost—wild boy—just so—keep him at it—ay, fit for nothing else. so,” said mr park, folding the paper, “i find that mr grant has sent you to take the place of a young gentleman we expected to pick up at norway house, but who is required elsewhere; and that he wishes you to see a good deal of rough life—to be made a trader of, in fact. is that your desire?”

“that’s the very ticket!” replied harry, scarcely able to restrain his delight at the prospect.

“well, then, you had better get supper and turn in, for you’ll have to begin your new life by rising at three o’clock to-morrow morning. have you got a tent?”

“yes,” said harry, pointing to his canoe, which had been brought to the fire and turned bottom up by the two indians to whom it belonged, and who were reclining under its shelter enjoying their pipes, and watching with looks of great gravity the doings of harry and his friend.

“that will return whence it came to-morrow. have you no other?”

“oh yes,” said harry, pointing to the overhanging branches of a willow close at hand, “lots more.”

mr park smiled grimly, and turning on his heel re-entered the tent and continued his pipe, while harry flung himself down beside charley under the bark canoe.

this species of “tent” is, however, by no means a perfect one. an indian canoe is seldom three feet broad—frequently much narrower—so that it only affords shelter for the body as far down as the waist, leaving the extremities exposed. true, one may double up as nearly as possible into half one’s length, but this is not a desirable position to maintain throughout an entire night. sometimes, when the weather is very bad, an additional protection is procured by leaning several poles against the bottom of the canoe, on the weather side, in such a way as to slope considerably over the front; and over these are spread pieces of birch bark or branches and moss, so as to form a screen, which is an admirable shelter. but this involves too much time and labour to be adopted during a voyage, and is only done when the travellers are under the necessity of remaining for some time in one place.

the canoe in which harry arrived was a pretty large one, and looked so comfortable when arranged for the night that charley resolved to abandon his own tent and mr park’s society, and sleep with his friend.

“i’ll sleep with you, harry, my boy,” said he, after harry had explained to him in detail the cause of his being sent away from red river; which was no other than that a young gentleman, as mr park said, who was to have gone, had been ordered elsewhere.

“that’s right, charley; spread out our blankets, while i get some supper, like a good fellow.” harry went in search of the kettle while his friend prepared their bed. first, he examined the ground on which the canoe lay, and found that the two indians had already taken possession of the only level places under it. “humph!” he ejaculated, half inclined to rouse them up, but immediately dismissed the idea as unworthy of a voyageur. besides, charley was an amiable, unselfish fellow, and would rather have lain on the top of a dozen stumps than have made himself comfortable at the expense of any one else.

he paused a moment to consider. on one side was a hollow “that” (as he soliloquised to himself) “would break the back of a buffalo.” on the other side were a dozen little stumps surrounding three very prominent ones, that threatened destruction to the ribs of any one who should venture to lie there. but charley did not pause to consider long. seizing his axe, he laid about him vigorously with the head of it, and in a few seconds destroyed all the stumps, which he carefully collected, and, along with some loose moss and twigs, put into the hollow, and so filled it up. having improved things thus far, he rose and strode out of the circle of light into the wood. in a few minutes he reappeared, bearing a young spruce fir tree on his shoulder, which with the axe he stripped of its branches. these branches were flat in form, and elastic—admirably adapted for making a bed on; and when charley spread them out under the canoe in a pile of about four inches in depth by four feet broad and six feet long, the stumps and the hollow were overwhelmed altogether. he then ran to mr park’s tent, and fetched thence a small flat bundle covered with oilcloth and tied with a rope. opening this, he tossed out its contents, which were two large and very thick blankets—one green, the other white; a particularly minute feather pillow, a pair of moccasins, a broken comb, and a bit of soap. then he opened a similar bundle containing harry’s bed, which he likewise tossed out; and then kneeling down, he spread the two white blankets on the top of the branches, the two green blankets above these, and the two pillows at the top, as far under the shelter of the canoe as he could push them. having completed the whole in a manner that would have done credit to a chambermaid, he continued to sit on his knees, with his hands in his pockets, smiling complacently, and saying, “capital—first-rate!”

“here we are, charley. have a second supper—do!”

harry placed the smoking kettle by the head of the bed, and squatting down beside it, began to eat as only a boy can eat who has had nothing since breakfast.

charley attacked the kettle too—as he said, “out of sympathy,” although he “wasn’t hungry a bit.” and really, for a man who was not hungry, and had supped half an hour before, the appetite of sympathy was wonderfully strong.

but harry’s powers of endurance were now exhausted. he had spent a long day of excessive fatigue and excitement, and having wound it up with a heavy supper, sleep began to assail him with a fell ferocity that nothing could resist. he yawned once or twice, and sat on the bed blinking unmeaningly at the fire, as if he had something to say to it which he could not recollect just then. he nodded violently, much to his own surprise, once or twice, and began to address remarks to the kettle instead of to his friend. “i say, charley, this won’t do. i’m off to bed!” and suiting the action to the word, he took off his coat and placed it on his pillow. he then removed his moccasins, which were wet, and put on a dry pair; and this being all that is ever done in the way of preparation before going to bed in the woods, he lay down and pulled the green blankets over him.

before doing so, however, harry leaned his head on his hands and prayed. this was the one link left of the chain of habit with which he had left home. until the period of his departure for the wild scenes of the north-west, harry had lived in a quiet, happy home in the west highlands of scotland, where he had been surrounded by the benign influences of a family the members of which were united by the sweet bonds of christian love—bonds which were strengthened by the additional tie of amiability of disposition. from childhood he had been accustomed to the routine of a pious and well-regulated household, where the bible was perused and spoken of with an interest that indicated a genuine hungering and thirsting after righteousness, and where the name of jesus sounded often and sweetly on the ear. under such training harry, though naturally of a wild, volatile disposition, was deeply and irresistibly impressed with a reverence for sacred things, which, now that he was thousands of miles away from his peaceful home, clung to him with the force of old habit and association, despite the jeers of comrades and the evil influences and ungodliness by which he was surrounded. it is true that he was not altogether unhurt by the withering indifference to god that he beheld on all sides. deep impression is not renewal of heart. but early training in the path of christian love saved him many a deadly fall. it guarded him from many of the grosser sins into which other boys, who had merely broken away from the restraints of home, too easily fell. it twined round him—as the ivy encircles the oak—with a soft, tender, but powerful grasp, that held him back when he was tempted to dash aside all restraint; and held him up when, in the weakness of his human nature, he was about to fall. it exerted its benign sway over him in the silence of night, when his thoughts reverted to home, and during his waking hours, when he wandered from scene to scene in the wide wilderness; and in after years, when sin prevailed, and intercourse with rough men had worn off much of at least the superficial amiability of his character, and to some extent blunted the finer feelings of his nature, it clung faintly to him still, in the memory of his mother’s gentle look and tender voice, and never forsook him altogether. home had a blessed and powerful influence on harry. may god bless such homes, where the ruling power is love! god bless and multiply such homes in the earth! were there more of them there would be fewer heart-broken mothers to weep over the memory of the blooming, manly boys they sent away to foreign climes—with trembling hearts but high hopes—and never saw them more. they were vessels launched upon the troubled sea of time, with stout timbers, firm masts, and gallant sails—with all that was necessary above and below, from stem to stern, for battling with the billows of adverse fortune, for stemming the tide of opposition, for riding the storms of persecution, or bounding with a press of canvas before the gales of prosperity; but without the rudder—without the guiding principle that renders the great power of plank and sail and mast available; with which the vessel moves obedient to the owner’s will, without which it drifts about with every current, and sails along with every shifting wind that blows. yes, may the best blessings of prosperity and peace rest on such families, whose bread, cast continually on the waters, returns to them after many days.

after harry had lain down, charley, who did not feel inclined for repose, sauntered to the margin of the lake, and sat down upon a rock.

it was a beautiful calm evening. the moon shone faintly through a mass of heavy clouds, casting a pale light on the waters of lake winnipeg, which stretched, without a ripple, out to the distant horizon. the great fresh-water lakes of america bear a strong resemblance to the sea. in storms the waves rise mountains high, and break with heavy, sullen roar upon a beach composed in many places of sand and pebbles; while they are so large that one not only looks out to a straight horizon, but may even sail out of sight of land altogether.

as charley sat resting his head on his hand, and listening to the soft hiss that the ripples made upon the beach, he felt all the solemnising influence that steals irresistibly over the mind as we sit on a still night gazing out upon the moonlit sea. his thoughts were sad; for he thought of kate, and his mother and father, and the home he was now leaving. he remembered all that he had ever done to injure or annoy the dear ones he was leaving; and it is strange how much alive our consciences become when we are unexpectedly or suddenly removed from those with whom we have lived and held daily intercourse. how bitterly we reproach ourselves for harsh words, unkind actions; and how intensely we long for one word more with them, one fervent embrace, to prove at once that all we have ever said or done was not meant ill, and, at any rate, is deeply, sincerely repented of now! as charley looked up into the starry sky, his mind recurred to the parting words of mr addison. with uplifted hands and a full heart, he prayed that god would bless, for jesus’ sake, the beloved ones in red river, but especially kate; for whether he prayed or meditated, charley’s thoughts always ended with kate.

a black cloud passed across the moon, and reminded him that but a few hours of the night remained; so hastening up to the camp again, he lay gently down beside his friend, and drew the green blanket over him.

in the camp all was silent. the men had chosen their several beds according to fancy, under the shadow of a bush or tree. the fires had burned low—so low that it was with difficulty charley, as he lay, could discern the recumbent forms of the men, whose presence was indicated by the deep, soft, regular breathing of tired but healthy constitutions. sometimes a stray moonbeam shot through the leaves and branches, and cast a ghostlike flickering light over the scene, which ever and anon was rendered more mysterious by a red flare of the fire as an ember fell, blazed up for an instant, and left all shrouded in greater darkness than before.

at first charley continued his sad thoughts, staring all the while at the red embers of the expiring fire; but soon his eyes began to blink, and the stumps of trees began to assume the form of voyageurs, and voyageurs to look like stumps of trees. then a moonbeam darted in, and mr addison stood on the other side of the fire. at this sight charley started, and mr addison disappeared, while the boy smiled to think how he had been dreaming while only half asleep. then kate appeared, and seemed to smile on him; but another ember fell, and another red flame sprang up, and put her to flight too. then a low sigh of wind rustled through the branches, and charley felt sure that he saw kate again coming through the woods, singing the low, soft tune that she was so fond of singing, because it was his own favourite air. but soon the air ceased; the fire faded away; so did the trees, and the sleeping voyageurs; kate last of all dissolved, and charley sank into a deep, untroubled slumber.