Part 4 (1/2)

As the scows swung out into the river, under no motive power excepting that of the current, the men arranged themselves for the long journey, each to suit himself, but under a loose sort of system of government.

At the long steering-sweep, made from a spruce pole twenty feet in length, stood always the steersman, holding the scow straight in the current. The ten tons of luggage was piled high in each scow, and all covered with a great tarpaulin to protect the cargo of side-meat, salt, sugar, flour, and steel traps, cloth, strouds, other rough supplies, as well as the better stock of trade goods--prints, powder, ball, rifles, matches, a scant supply of canned goods--and such other additions to the original stock as modern demands inst.i.tuted by the independent traders for the most part had now made necessary in the traffic with the tribes. That year, indeed, a few hand sewing-machines went north, and some phonographs--things of wonder to the ignorant native of that far-off land.

The progress of the boats, although steady, seemed very slow, and, as there was no work to do, the men amused themselves as best they might.

There were several fiddlers in the fleet, and now and then, as the _Midnight Sun_ swept down, well handled by the commodore, Francois, they pa.s.sed a scow on whose bow deck a scantily clad half-breed was dancing to the music of the violin. Now and again across the water came the curious droning song of the Cree steersmen, musical but wild.

The great brigade was off on its start for the long journey from the Rockies to the icy sea, continuing one more year of the wild commerce which had become a part of the land itself for more than a century now.

”It's wonderful--wonderful!” said Rob, looking about him at the strange scene on that morning of their first day of actual travel.

”I've never seen a thing more fascinating than this. I'm sure this is going to be the best trip we've ever had.

”I tell you what,” he added, a moment later, turning to the leader of their little party, ”I believe I'll try to keep a little diary for a little while at least; it might be nice to have a few notes to refer to. I doubt if any of us will ever make this trip again.”

”An excellent idea!” said his uncle. ”That's the way to get your information soaked into your head. Write it down, and be careful what you write. Your notes, together with John's maps, are things you will prize very much indeed, later in life.”

Rob, indeed, did fulfil his promise, beginning that very day, and perhaps a few notes taken from his diary may be of interest, as showing what actually happened as recorded by himself.

”_May 29th._--Off late. Ran three miles. Men went back to town. Found sacks of sugar made a hard bed. Mosquitoes.

”_May 30th._--The grand start of the big brigade. Running maybe four or five miles an hour. Banks getting lower.

Cottonwoods, some brulee (burned-over forest). Supper 6 P.M.

Ran until 9.45 P.M. Damp camp.

”_May 31st._--Off at 6. In the morning men on the first boat killed a cow moose and two calves. No game laws north of 53. Men rejoice over meat. Eight mission scows in fleet, which carry eight to ten tons each. Father Le Fevre says, except for whitefish, all northern missions would perish. At 2.15 stopped at Pelican Portage, at head of Pelican Rapids, 120 miles below the landing. Head winds yesterday, but favorable now. Two boats collided, and one damaged. Saw two dogs carrying packs--first pack-dogs I ever saw. Priest baptized an Indian baby here. I suppose this is what the brigade goes north for, in part. Lay here until 7 in the evening, and then off for our first rapids, the Pelican.

Rough, but not so bad as Columbia Big Bend Rapids. An eighteen-foot canoe would go through; twelve-foot doubtful.

Scows do it easily. Fast work close to the sh.o.r.e part of the way. Men know their business. Some system to the brigade.

Camp at foot of rapids. Much excitement. Scows crowding one another. Many mosquitoes.

”_June 1st, Sunday._--No travel to-day. All of the boatmen are Catholics. The priest put up a little chapel and said Ma.s.s. Curious scene to see all these half-savages kneeling, hats off, on the ground. After Ma.s.s a good many of them got their hair cut; one or two men can do barbering-work. The judge and legal party played cards all the afternoon. John seems to eat more than ever. A good many mosquitoes.

”_June 2d._--Off at 6, which seems regular starting-time.

Ash.o.r.e for lunch 11.30. Slow and lazy work floating down, but pleasant. Tied up at 6 for supper. Much excitement now, as we are coming down to the head of Grand Island, where we make the big portage. After supper made a mile or so through shallow water among many rocks, to the head of the island.

It is low and rocky, covered with cottonwoods, should think about a mile long, and not over half a mile wide. Very fierce water to the left, with quiet water above. No boat ever ran the left channel alive. Many lost here in the Klondike; they went into that quiet and deep water on the left and got caught. They say we will try to run the right-hand side. Did not put up tent to-night, but slept under mosquito tents. A hundred and sixty-five miles from Athabasca Landing. Now we begin to feel as though we were to see the real work.”

IV

THE GRAND RAPIDS

It was much as Rob had predicted in the last entry of his diary previously quoted. Uncle d.i.c.k hurried them through their breakfast.

”We'll see some fun to-day, boys,” said he.

”How do you mean?” asked Jesse. ”Are they going to try to run the boats through?”

”They'll have to run the scows through light, so Francois tells me.

There isn't water enough to take them through loaded, so practically each one will have to uns.h.i.+p its cargo here.