“Captain Vancouver took us three,

 ‘Puggie’ Pigot, McKenzie and me.

 We had the Discovery’s yawl.

 A jolly boat party it was and all

 were eating hearty and feeling fit.”

What though loved voices seem to speak,

home voices calling kind and dear?

Yet the wanton, west wind fans my cheek

and the salt, salt sea sings in my ear,

as I set my face far lands to seek

with a steadfast heart and joyful cheer.

The stripling, George Vancouver, sailed with Cook,

a blue eyed, fair-skinned boy but fifteen years,

Tells how
George
Vancouver
first went
to seascarce yet the down of nascent manhood showed

upon his tender cheek—for these the days

when Britain’s sea-dogs took their training young—

enrolled “A.B.” as was the custom then

for those who were to tread the quarterdeck

and learn the fine traditions of the sea

and follow their great forbears. He was come

of good Dutch lineage in paternal line,

and on his mother’s side of county blood,

his sire, Customs Collector in King’s Lynn,

that quaint old Norfolk port. ’Twas there the boy

had learned to think long thoughts about the sea,

had heard tall tales from sailors on the docks

and seen strange trophies brought from foreign lands

and thrilled at news of battles fought and won,

perils of shipwrecks on uncharted shores

where savage cannibals and wild beasts swarmed

to prey upon the hapless sailor man.

The sea was in his blood. What luck, indeed,

that such as he should sail with Captain Cook

to search the Antarctic for a Continent

fabled to lie in that far Southern sea!

Three years before he would return again—

three strenuous years of hardships and of toil

in which the Resolution was his home,

a sturdy vessel suited for her task

full bravely manned and nobly captained too.

He benefits
by the
training
of CookCook was an inspiration to the boy,

taught him the best he knew of seamanship,

high sense of duty and of honour too,

courage in danger’s hour and steadfastness,

those sterling qualities that make the man

and fit him to last out life’s trying day

and keep his colours flying to the end.

Fine seaman and a navigator skilled,

Cook had as well the true explorer’s flair

and the great gift of leadership. He kept

his sailors free from scurvy, that dread scourge,

by balanced diet and so saved his crew

from its dread fatal ravages which else

had brought the voyage to an untimely end.

So young Vancouver learned his ’prenticeship

under this famed explorer and he sailed

with him the blue Pacific and he saw

New Zealand and those favoured Southern isles,

decked in their tropic splendour and romance—

had watched the natives eat their enemies

and seen his shipmates flogged for punishment

and witnessed death at sea—all these and more

impinged upon his growing mind ere home

in three years time he came to Portsmouth docks,

still boy in years but now a man in heart.

There as the ship was mooring he looked back

over their rich experience and his breast

thrilled with a poignant thankfulness and pride,

and wonder too that even to such as he

had come these rare adventures and such friends

as ’mongst his shipmates he had made this voyage.

There had been bitter with the sweet, of course.

Some pangs of sheer homesickness he had known

when in the gun-room’s rough-and-tumble play

his fellow-midshipmen had hazed him well—

his seniors, veterans of a year or two—

and flogged him with their colts^[1] till black and blue

to teach him due humility; again

when boyish tricks or scrapes brought punishment

and sent him to the masthead for his sins,

sometimes in dirty weather when the wind

cut through his flimsy sea togs clinging close,

till he was numb with cold and when recalled

could scarcely crawl down to the deck again;

or when some sickness kept him in his bunk

for days together. Even these chastened times

in retrospect now seemed scarce hard at all

viewed in the fair perspective of a voyage

that had been full of wonder and of zest,

of things to learn about the ship his home,

her masts and sails and ropes and more, her moods

so quaintly like a woman’s; and of the sea,

that too so changeable.

Another year and Cook set sail again

the Resolution still his gallant ship.Captain Cook
sets off
on another
voyage

The Discovery was his tender, Captain Clerke.

This time the venture had a wider aim.

First he must chart these far Pacific isles

he had discovered; then to sail North-east

on past the Sandwich Islands and still on,

New Albion and to Nootka forward still

to seek the North-East passage, that bright dream

of mariners for nigh two hundred years,

to link the two great oceans, also chart

the coastline as he went to be a guide

for those should follow. When they sailedand Vancouver
is again
of his
company

Vancouver’s name was on the muster roll

of the Discovery. Proud was he to be

under his loved commander once again.

It was a wond’rous voyage, that they made,

at times heroic, full of incident.

Far, far up North to sixty-nine degrees

along that dangerous, serrated coast

uncharted and unknown ’gainst peril of rock

and tempest, fog and treacherous, hidden shoal,

disease and hostile natives, thrusting through

by small boat parties fingering tortuously,

they penetrated till at last they faced

a wall of ice through which they could not pass,Cook is
forced to
turn South
again

a barrier bleak, awesome, unconquerable!

Cook turned his helm and southward sailed again,

leaving this bleak, inclement, barren coast —

that was in April, Seventeen seventy-eight —

to seek Hawaii’s languorous Southern shore,

that lotus-eater’s paradise far famed,

alas! a fatal shore it was to prove.

There on the beach that fateful day

Cook died at Kealakekua BayHow Captain
Cook met his
death at the
hands of the
savages

on bright Hawaii’s sunbaked strand,

far from his misty native land.

A boat was stolen the night before

and so the Captain went ashore

to ask Kar-re-obbo, the King

to come aboard with him, a thing

the old man first agreed to do—

childlike he marked his pleasure, too,

but his dark subjects showed alarm,

dreading their chief might suffer harm;

for Cook had come ashore attended

by nine marines. They apprehended

some lure behind the invitation—

not without grounds their trepidation—

so scurried fast across the sand

and stopped their patriarch near the strand.

With warning cries they voiced their fears,

threatening the white men with their spears.

Insolent grown, the hostile crowd

hustled the little band and loud,

taunted with shouts derisive till

Cook fired at one and fired to kill.

Too late he found it was not wise

the native valour to despise—

to think a musket shot would clear

the rabble from his path in fear.

He called the boats to come, stand by

and cease their firing. Help was nigh.

The ship’s guns belched with sullen roar—

her Captain now had reached the shore.

The savages about him swarmed,

with spears and daggers they were armed,

all following closely in his track;

and then he fell, pierced in the back

right by the water’s edge; and then

they speared him o’er and o’er again.

His men were forced to swim away—

their Captain dead, why should they stay?

Four of the nine marines were slain.

The five attained the boat again,

which barely could make good its flight

to reach the ship. In piteous plight

powerless the crew before their eyes,

saw their fierce foes with dreadful cries

wreak vengeance on their Captain dead,

dash on the rocks that noble head

and dabble all with gore that brow—

alas, where its bright beauty now!

Those vigorous limbs so strong and straight,

the savage foes, made mad with hate

and following tribal custom, tore

from off the trunk for trophies. More

’t were ill to tell. This the sad end

of Captain Cook; and his young friend,

Vancouver doubtless sorely grieved

for his great leader, felt bereaved

and shaken by the loss, to see

his goods put up for auction. He

would take it hard. Yet life was sweet

and he was young. He sure must meet

this sorrow bravely . . . .

Vancouver came again in “ninety-two”

to drop his anchor deep in Nootka Sound,Vancouver
again
visits the
North-West

Commander now on his own quarterdeck.

’Twas fourteen years since he had sailed with Cook

and seen him stabbed in Kealakekua Bay.

The sailor lad was now a lad no more.

Mature in years and training he had sailed

on active service under Rodney’s flag

in that great naval battle of the Saints

as a lieutenant on the frigate, Fame,

had fought the French and shared its victory.

In the West Indies he had served two years,

surveyed the Kingston Harbour and Port Royal

and did the work with credit so preparing

himself for his great life work still to come.

These had been stirring years in world affairs.

The War of Independence had been won

and Britain lost her colonies; and here

far out at Nootka on this Western coast

John Meares, a former naval officer,

trader in furs, had nigh embroiled in war

England and Spain by a Memorial

in Parliament whereby at Nootka Sound

the latter Power, he claimed, had seized his ships

despite their British flag. A “teapot” storm

itself, yet was, no doubt, a culmination,

the symbol of a graver, weightier issue,

wherein Spain’s ancient sovereignty here

in this Pacific seaboard was involved,

and England’s firm encroachment. That great trade

in furs of the sea otter was at stake

and San Lorenzo (Nootka) was its depot.

The Meares affair set Britain up in arms

and caused a mighty mustering of ships—

an armament indeed—just off Spithead.

So Spain in fear of it ate humble pie

and made a treaty granting Meares’ claim

and ceding Nootka back to British trade,

which she had claimed by prior settlement.

Vancouver, then, came on a twofold mission.

Under the Treaty terms he was to meet

at Nootka with the Spanish admiral

and there receive the territory back

which Meares had occupied before; also

he was to make some survey of the coast.

So ere he came to Nootka, mark him now

proceed with following breeze along the shore

past the Columbia River’s yeasty bar

and quite unconscious that behind it lay

that great, majestic, navigable stream.

Cape Disappointment’s barren promontories

he skirted closely and with favouring winds

he travelled on to Flattery’s rugged capes

between Tatooche’s Isle and Duncan Rock

into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Here

they could observe the natives on the beach

and others paddling in their frail canoes,

of friendly mien and fain to come aboard

had the Commander wished to shorten sail.

And now beneath the high land’s sheltering screen

the breezes moderated; gently the ships

with easy motion glided down the straits

past Classet’s village; and they sailed so slow,

the smiling natives begged to come aboard

and were with kindness welcomed and with gifts.

The season now was May; and fragrant winds

with summery softness blew from off the land,

caressed the sailors’ crinkled, rosy cheeks

and made them sing for joyance; and when soonHe names
Port Discovery
and
Protection Isle

they struck a sheltered harbour, here they stayed.

Vancouver named it Port Discovery

after his vessel and Protection Isle,

he called the island lying at its mouth.

Menzies and two of the midshipmen went with me in the yawlVancouver
tells how
they
discovered
an alluring
inlet

and Puget, our second lieutenant commanded the launch

and the Chatham’s master had charge of her cutter.

We set off at five on a boisterous May morning

with four days’ provisions on board; for the weather had changed.

It was blowing a moderate gale. We had gone but a mile from the ship

when the fog floated down upon us. Some two or three leagues we rowed

from the shelter of Port Discovery and we moored in another harbour

that stretched away to the southward. Here we laid down our oars

to wait till the weather should clear; and we put in the time fishing,

hauling our big seine net along the beach with great labour

but with scant reward for our pains. To our joy then at last the fog lifted.

Before our admiring eyes there lay a delectable inlet

with a steep bluff right before us and away behind at an angle

reared a most beautiful mountain rounded soft on its slopesHe names
Mount
Rainier

and covered with snow like a mantle right down to the green at its base.

I gave it the name of “Rainier” after my friend the Rear Admiral.

Mount Baker stood up there North-east, stately, remote and grand,

with tinted, diaphanous sides, its white peak pearly and cloudlike.

Onward we steered and still onward and the land on the shores grew more open:

fields fertile and green contrasted the snow peaks above them;and Port
Townshend
and
Puget
Sound

and we found an excellent harbour which I named for the Marquis of Townshend.

The southern part of the Inlet I called after young Mr. Puget,

who showed such an excellent zeal in exploring its numerous fiords.

A likeable lad he was, trustworthy, capable, wise,

one I was glad to honour, one I was sure would go far.

Out of us “middies” five of us went

all very much on discovery bent:

in the ship’s launch there were twoOne of the
‘Discovery’s’
midshipmen
describes
an incident
of a boat
party for
exploration

with Mr. Puget, Barrie and Crewe.

Captain Vancouver took us three,

“Puggie” Pigot, McKenzie and me.

We had the Discovery’s yawl.

A jolly boat party it was and all

were eating hearty and feeling fit.

We were explorers and proud of it.

We passed a cape that we named “Point Grey”

and sailing round it into the bay,

a crowd of Indians came to meet us,

two score or more seemed glad to greet us

and gave us fish, a kind of smelt,

(I soon had some of it under my belt).

They paddled after us up the bay;

at its head we found that an inlet lay

stretching eastward with rocky shores.

The wind had died so we took to the oars.

It was almost night when we neared its head

three leagues from its mouth. Our Captain said

after we’d eaten dinner ashore

and stretched our legs for an hour or more:The
expedition
follows
an Inlet
to its head

“Men, we must back to the boats to sleep.

This coast is too rough, its banks too steep

to make it safe to pitch the tent.”

The others rose and off they went.

We boys asked leave to stay on landThe midshipmen
decide
to sleep
on the beach
while the rest
spend the
night in the
boats

and make our beds upon the sand

and this was given. “What fun,” said I

“to sleep right out beneath the sky

on terra firma safe and sound

and watch the stars go wheeling round.”

“You’re right, it’s fun to be alone,

we five together ‘on our own’,”

said Barrie. “Yes, it’s jolly too

with none to watch just what we do

and we can lark just as we wish

with none to listen but the fish,”

said Mac; but Barrie raised his hand

and filled Mac’s mouth half full of sand.

The two then closed in playful fight

and wrestled in the fading light

prone on the stony beach; I, too,

had straightway flung myself on Crewe

while “Puggie” next the fun to share

hovered about from pair to pair,

thus swiftly joining in the lists

pommelling us with his puny fists

with indiscriminate blows; but soon

wearied we ceased our play. The moon

now rose in silver o’er the scene.

The day’s fatigues had tiring been.

We stretched ourselves upon the beach

well up beyond the water’s reach

(or so we thought) and as for me,The Narrator
has an
exciting
dream

I went to sleep at once carefree

with all a boy’s abandon; dreamed

adventures marvellous. It seemed

my ship had foundered in a gale

and I was riding on a whale,

the last survivor of our crew.

(The Chatham it had perished too.)

The fish had suddenly appeared

above the surface, when I feared

that I must sink. In this sad plight

I seized its tail and held on tight

then climbed up on its back. My state

of mind was piteous to relate

as there I crouched. Then off it went

at racing speed. I knew it meant

that if the creature once should “sound”,

then I must certainly be drowned.

And so I drummed it with my heels

to spur it on. A flock of seals

had gathered round, a strange convoy.

I was a most unhappy boy,

and dumb with terror for, in chase,

swordfish in shoals had joined the race

to sheath their sharp swords in my steed.

Most copiously it seemed to bleed

until the sea was red with gore

and down it plunged and luckless bore

me far down with it, down, down, deep.

Strangely enough I yet could keep

my perch upon its back but fear

still paralysed my limbs for near

the swordfish followed, dogfish too

and sharks, grey shapes of pallid hue,

pursuing grimly snapped their jaws—On awaking
he makes a
surprising
discovery

to perish in these hungry maws,

a fearful fate, indeed! Then more,

I suffered much from cold and bore

the pangs of death, began to choke—

then mercifully I awoke

to find it was not all a dream,

for I was lying, it would seem,

right in the sea. Up softly had crept

the lapping waters while we slept.

I rose in haste. My comrades too,

beside me, Barrie, Mac and Crewe

were half awake; in sorry plight

they surely made a comic sight

all soaked and shivering cold and numb.

The first faint light of morn had come.

I looked for little “Puggie” Pigot.

There he was tossing like a frigate,

a full rod’s distance from the beach

and floating farther out of reach.

I shouted but he slept so sound,

he would have drifted off and drowned

if I had not plunged in once more

and dragged him dripping safe ashore.

The morning air was keen and chill.

Coldly the dawn’s light topped the hill.

Our calls had reached the Captain’s ear

and soon we saw the yawl appear

to take us off. We gladly crept

aboard crestfallen. “Puggie” wept

still half asleep; and as we stripped

the Captain said we should be whipped

for “messing up” the boat; but smiled

to show he was not really “riled”,

then helped to chafe our limbs all numb

with cold and served a swig of rum

from his own flask. So unafraid

we warmed up from our escapade;

and now we five have sworn no more

to make our bed so near the shore.

’Twas a bright and windy morning when we met the Spanish ships

    at the opening of the bay

    in the breaking of the day;One of the
seamen
describes
how they
met the
Spanish
ships

we were going ashore for breakfast with a shanty on our lips

    and to land on Point Grey

    whence the mists had blown away;

for the Captain said we might; we’d been cooped up precious tight;

    an’ the meanest thing afloat

    is a blistering open boat

with the seats so hard beneath you and the broiling sun so bright;

    an’ our hams were achin’ sore

    but we didn’t get ashore—

    no, we never got ashore.

 

For the Dons were kind and courteous and most amiably perlite,

    gave us breakfast of the best

    and we ate it with a zest;

and washed it down with wine of a flavour to delight.

    They asked us all to stay

    but our Captain told them nay;

for our shipmates were awaiting us some hundred miles away;

    and we rayther fancied too

    he was feelin’ kind of blue

to find the Dons ahead of him—no, no, he wouldn’t stay.

    He liked the lads all right

    for they really were perlite—

    aye, they sure were most perlite.

 

And as we rowed away from them we gave a rousin’ cheer,

    an’ we wished them lots of luck

    for they surely showed their pluck;

in these crank and crazy cockleshells to navigate up here,

    just a schooner and a brig,

    each of rummy, foreign rig,

barely forty-five tons burden and with scarce a score of men,

    grizzled sea-dogs out of Spain—

    aye, we told them we’d be fain

to broach our rarest vintage when we met with them again.

    And the noonday sun shone bright

    as we watched them out of sight—

    aye, they faded from our sight.

“ ’Twas a bright and windy morning when we met the Spanish ships,

                  at the opening of the bay

                  in the breaking of the day; . . .”

I’ll name it Desolation Sound.

No prospect pleasing to the eye is hereVancouver
names
Desolation
Sound

nor pleasant places on the shore; no game

or vegetable food to mitigate

our coarse sea-diet salt and flavourless

recurring daily morning, noon and night,

from which the inner man revolts.

Sometimes the very sap of life seems drained

from out the limbs as if one’s body’s vigour

were dissipated by the parching staleness

and all one’s natural, physical functions

are slowed to dangerous torpidity.

And then the throbbing pain behind the eyes

that comes at times, the gnawing heaviness

that robs the nights of sleep, the dreary watchesHis thoughts
are gloomy
and depressed

when one reviews the progress of the voyage,

its perilous chances, its perplexities—

the loneliness of rulership unshared,

responsibility for the lives of men,

two whole ships’ companies, for good or ill

made subject to my sway and discipline.

To keep their bodies well, their minds content

beneath such hard conditions, no easy task;

the seamen just like children

to be praised or punished;

no easy task to keep the happy mean,

to hold the scales with keen, impartial eye,

neither to be o’er harsh or too indulgent.

Sometimes one’s angry feelings take control

to bring remorseful aftermath. But He

who knows the weakness of our mortal make-up,

will have compassion on our frailty.

Young Thomas Pitt now, that distressful lad,

son of a peer and born to lofty station,

a promising youngster when he joined the ship,

plenty of pluck but not an ounce of balance,

I often wonder what’s to ’come of him.

I’ll not forget the last time he was flogged,

the look of hatred in his eyes for me

as he was led away. Thank God, save him,

I have a loyal staff of officers.

But there’s a wretched loneliness of rank

that hedges the commander of a ship

and bears upon one heavily at times.

These rocky shores inhospitable,

flanked by majestic mountains whose high peaks

proclaim the paltriness of puny man

and mock the effrontery of such as we

who come so far to spy them out,

this night have cast a gloom upon me,

a mood of deep depression.

Johnstone has not come back. For several days

his boat is overdue. He went to seek

a passage outward to the ocean;

and now my mind is prey to grim forebodings

they may be swamped and lost. Shame on me now

for lending harbourage to foolish fears!

’Twere well to change the current of my thoughts.but he is
cheered by
reflecting on
the benefits
of his
explorations
to those
who come
after him

No doubt, ’tis something

to warrant an honest pride,

we should have fared so far

into these Northern latitudes so lone

to name new lands and chart unsounded seas

for other, happier men to follow

and build their homes and plant their crops

and rear their children around them;

and find their ways made pleasant by our pains.

It is a heartening thing to think upon,

consoling to the spirit ofttimes sad

when the mind turns back with poignant longing

and the heart hungers for old scenes and faces.

and then
by the
memory of
his sisters
at homeWhat are they doing at home, at King’s Lynn, my sisters?

There in the arbour tonight, do they sit in our old-fashioned garden,

talking together of me and the happy times of our childhood,

wondering how I may fare and when they may look for my coming?

There I can picture them fondly, there in the deepening twilight,

faces loving and sweet framed in the trellis of roses,

(memory carries me back, almost I scent their fragrance).

Dear Sarah and Mary, the thought of them fills me with comfort.He names
after them
the two
capes at the
entrance to
Desolation
Sound

Names that are sweet to my lips, how shall I do them due honour?

Names that have brought me good cheer I shall give to those capes that we skirted,

sailing into this sound, this Sound I have called Desolation.

Long may they thus be known to call up home thoughts to the sailor.

Thirteen guns for the Spaniard Quadra

rang out across the waves at Friendly Cove,The
‘Discovery’
and the
‘Chatham’
anchor in
Friendly
Cove

waking the echoes from the neighbouring hills

’frighting the seabirds, as the British ships

swept to an anchorage. Then in reply

thundered the Spanish batteries off the shore

an equal salvo in Vancouver’s honour.

And Indian watchers of the Nootkan tribe

hearkening stood rapt in wonder at the sound

but could not catch its import nor could guess

the great occasion that it celebrated.Vancouver isgraciously
received
by the
Spaniard
Quadra

Vancouver with his party went ashore

to be with warmth and graciousness received;

and lavish hospitality was exchanged.

Feasting and fellowship seemed doubly sweet

to these wave-weary mariners so long

cut off from social converse with their kind.

Don Quadra was a nobleman of charm.

The two commanders learned a mutual love

and admiration. This, despite that fate

had given to each an uncongenial rôle

in this, their two-part drama; for the one

was to receive according to the Treaty

the territories back that Spain had seized

from British subjects; to surrender such,

the bitter task the other had to face

if he would implement the Treaty’s terms.

But what the extent of those? Courteous and kind,

with high-bred tact and winsome southern charm

he sought to entertain his English guest

but would not cede more than the merest tittle

of what Vancouver thought the pact provided;

and history’s verdict proves the Spaniard right.Quadra
refuses
to cede
all of
Nootka

“Haul down the Spanish flag at Friendly Cove?

Surrender all of Nootka to the British?”

“No, no;” said Quadra, “for the power of Spain

from San Francisco to De Fuca’s Strait,

still it must reign supreme.” So back and forth

in verbal argument, by formal script,

the controversy raged between the two,

Vancouver firmly holding his contention

for full surrender of the Nootka district,

which Quadra curt denied him. Thus, at length,

lacking a common ground where they could meet,and it is
decided
to refer
the matter
in dispute
to the two
governments

they then agreed to send the matter back

for future settlement to their governments;

and thus they parted, Quadra sailing south.

The two would meet again at Monterey.

Spain’s power on the Pacific it has passed

and Britain rules where once her flag held sway.

The two commanders long ago have gone

to their last rest. Majestic steamers ply

through these great waterways then barely charted.

A noble city bears Vancouver’s name

not far from where they held their controversy,

he and Don Quadra; and as we look back

in time’s perspective, this stands out the foremostLater ages
shall acclaim
the spirit
shown by
Vancouver
and
Don Quadra

for future generations to acclaim,

that these two men each strong in his conviction,

not to be swayed from what he held was right,

could thus contend yet hold the even tenor

of gentlemanly bearing through it all;

they and their companies could meet and part

with kindly courtesy, in cordial friendship.

Their sojourn there at Nootka makes a tale,

one of the fairest annals of their time.

These white men come to trade

and for our furs give guns and blankets

and knives and tools of iron

and rum that makes our stomachs burn

and sweet molasses thick and sticky.

They come from o’er “the lake of stinking water”

in big canoes with monstrous, bellying sails

full of great wealth in weapons of war,

axes to cut with and vessels for cooking,

rare coloured cloths and curious ornaments.

Sometimes they treat us fairly, ofttimes no.

Greatly they prize our skins of the sea otter

of which they rob us when they get the chance,

mistreat our wives and make our children slaves

and shoot with fire on us in our canoes.

So, do you think we will not seek revenge?

and put them to the torture till they die?

and take their goods for our enjoyment?

On a clear calm night in March of Eighteen-three,

the good brig, Boston named for her home port

in Massachusetts out from England last,

dropped anchor close off shore at Nootka SoundThe ‘Boston’
anchors off
Nootka

to take in wood and water. Captain Salter

had sought the place because it was reputed

the natives here were friendly; King Maquinna

welcomed the white man’s ships and loved to barter.

Next morning early ere the sun was high,

the sea still misty and the sky a mournful grey,Maquinna comes out in
his canoe
with some
of his men

he came in his canoe, a stalwart escort with him,

to bid the Captain welcome, welcome to his country,

and climbed up over the side, a savage noble of bearing

with skin of coppery hue where not dyed a bright vermilion.

His eyebrows were lined with black making the face look grim

although the eyes themselves did not seem evil;

the nose underneath them was Roman

and the whole expression was hawklike.

A cloak of the sea otter fur shapely and rich

fell to his knees and was belted with cloth of the country

made from the bark of a tree and wrought with intricate markings.

He wore his black hair in a knot tied on the top of his head

and glistening all over with oil. It was covered with curious down,

white as the mountain snow presenting a striking contrast.

His men not so stately of bearing wore cloaks of a similar fashion

but their dress it was simpler and plainer, their mien was more modest,

like children they gazed around them gaping in awe and wonder

at all they saw in the ship.

I was the ship’s armourer,

John Jewitt, from Hull in England,

just turned eighteen; my first voyage,

these my first savages too.John Jewett,
the ship’s
armourer,
tells how the
natives watch
his forge

Maybe you think I was thrilled

to have them gather about me

there as I worked at my forge

clanging my hammer on anvil

making weapons of war.

(Maquinna had gone with the Captain

to sample a bottle of rum.)

These showed the liveliest interest

in watching me pounding away

or blowing the fire with my bellows.

Their dark eyes glistened with pleasure

to see the sparks fly from the coal;

and their faces were happy and friendly.

Some knew a few words of English

and spoke them again and again

like children proud to show off.

And in the few days that followed,

as soon as they came aboard,

down they would come to see me

and never wearied of watching.

So they all learned to know me.

Lucky for me in the sequel

that it was so as you’ll see.

That was a happy ten days for us all.

The month was March but in the middle

the days were sometimes bright and sunny,

not lionlike at all but mild and pleasant.Jewitt tells
how the crew
enjoyed
the days at
Nootka

The wind no doubt at times was biting, keen

bearing the tang from distant, snow-capped hills

that reared their lofty summits in the east;

but it was freighted too with the soft breath

of nearby forests, balsam, spruce and pine,

and smooth-barked cedar, such a tonic fragrance

that it was like an elixir to inhale

and made my young blood thrill with ecstasy.

The Indians brought us salmon; you may guess

after our long sea diet of pickled pork

and hard ship’s biscuit what it was to feed

on such fine fare. We stretched our legs ashore

and laid in wood and water. All went well.

We gave the natives presents; they in turn

brought us their gifts, such as they had, in kind

and all went pleasantly but for one incident

that rather marred the harmony though then

it seemed to pass without much ill effect.

I was down in the cabin.

I heard the sound of angry voices,

Captain Salter and Maquinna.

The King had just come aboard

and brought as gifts nine pair of wild duck,

a welcome offering and a generous.Captain Salter
and Maquinna
have a
falling-out

Down they came and I could hear ——

the King was speaking,

his voice was harsh and loud:

“The gun you gave,” he said, “is peshak;

the gun is worthless, take it back

I do not want it.” With an oath

the Captain seized it from him, flung it down

to me and to the King he said;

“You dirty liar, what is this you say?

That I would give you something that was bad?

There, John, the clumsy brute has smashed the lo

and puts the blame on me, ungrateful wretch,

so do you try to mend it if you can.”

’Twas plain the King well understood

the tenor of the Captain’s angry plaint

and felt a keen resentment. Not a word

he spoke but he was dark with rage;

for I could see his face contorted

and working strangely while with his right hand

he rubbed his throat repeatedly

and then his bosom as if to try

to quell the mounting passions

that sought to vent themselves.

But then they turned to go on deck

and left me——left me with the broken gun.

Next morning dawned serene; the sea was calm

and bright the sunshine for the sky was clear.

The tree-fringed shore was beautiful nearby.

The dark-green foliage ringed with yellow sandMaquinna and
his men visit
the ship and
make merry

rose in a solid wall behind the beach

backed by the distant snow-capped peaks. It was

a scene to soothe the eyes for peace and gladness;

seaward were dotted here and there canoes

of natives fishing; one or two were moored

beside us floating idly on the tide

with our own longboat, for their dusky owners

had come to trade with salmon in the morning

and idled on the ship curious as children.

Before they came aboard we always searched them

to see they had no arms. For this precaution

the Captain made the rule. Just after noon

Maquinna himself arrived from Friendly Cove.

A small flotilla manned with chiefs and braves

accompanied him. They moored and came aboard.

The King himself seemed in a joyous mood.

He wore a mask of wood grotesque and weird

in semblance of an eagle’s head; in hand

he held a wooden whistle. This he blew

and set his men a-dancing to its tune

upon the deck with curious, antic capers

that won our hearty mirth. The grizzled tars

grinned and clapped hands applauding; while above

the Captain from the quarterdeck looked down

smiling approvingly upon their sport.

It was indeed a novel scene and gay——

the six-foot chief proud in his rich attire,

his black sea otter robe revealing legs

daubed with vermilion on their copper skin,

this hideous mask bird-beaked upon his head;

around him on the deck his painted men,

cutting their capers with loud shouts and chanting,

making the still air vocal with their song;

and then the seamen in their tarry togs

taking their ease and looking on amused,

some with indulgent smile, some laughing loud

according to their bent but merry all.

And I, but yet a youth, surveyed it too

in wonder and elation that to me

should come such luck as to have part in it.

In all my boyish dreams of bright adventureJohn surveys
the scene
delighted

I had not pictured aught so rare as this;

and as my thoughts went back to home at Hull,

that peaceful seaport with its gabled streets

and steepled churches and its masted docks,

its quiet countryside of field and farm

with cattle feeding by fair English streams,

I called to mind my comrades of the town,

these boys I played with, could they see me now,

how they would envy me my happy chance.

Maquinna ceased his piping and the dancers,

wearied and scant of breath, desisted too

and squatted down upon their hams. The King

then joined the Captain on the quarterdeck

and asked of him when he had planned to leave;

(I stood close by and so could overhear.)

“Tomorrow, Chief,” the Captain made reply,

“I weigh my anchor for by now you see

I have my wood and water all aboard,

my men are rested and their bellies full

of your fine salmon which we have enjoyed

for which we give you thanks.” Maquinna smiled——

his mask was doffed and lay upon his knees

an unseen one there was that hid his thoughts——

he smiled well pleased and bowed acknowledgment:The Chief
suggests to
the Captain
that he set his
men a-fishing
for salmon
before he
weighs his
anchor

flattered apparently he was to have

his gifts so valued and he spoke again:

“You like the salmon, why should you not take

a-plenty with you? Why not send today

your men to Friendly Cove to fish for them?”

The Captain seized it for a timely thought.

He called the mate to learn what he should say

and took brief counsel with him. Then replied

“All right, my King, I think your plan is good.

We shall have dinner first and then the mate

will take the jollyboat—and the yawl as well

and nine men with their gear to catch the fish

and you shall show them how and we shall see

what goodly share of spoil their sport may bring.”

Just then he turned and caught my longing eye:

no doubt my pleading face was eloquent.

“Aha, my boy!” he laughed and shook his head.The Captain
consents but
John is not
allowed to go

“I know quite well what you would wish to ask.

You’d like to go a-fishing too. No, no,

you’ve idled long enough, I think, today

and you must earn your wages. Don’t you see

I owe a duty to the men I serve,

my owners down in Boston, for they look

to me to guard their interests and to make

due profit on the voyage? So get your dinner

and then down to the steerage to your vice-bench.”

Clink, clink, clink went my hammer on the anvil

  the smith may work and let his thoughts go roaming:

Clink, clink, clink, he may dream as any man will

  when left all alone; and mine went a-homing.

 

John while
working at
his forge lets
his thoughts
fly to EnglandClink, clink, clink, I could see my father’s face

  when the day’s work ended, we all sat down to meat,

as reverently he bent his head to say a grace,

  thanking the Lord for what we were to eat.

 

Clink, clink, clink, by a cheerful necromancy

  there came before my vision other faces that were dear——

merry faces of my schoolmates——I could see them all in fancy

  as I played with them in Donnington but only yester year.

 

Clink, clink, clink,——

 

              What was that? my thoughts came back

with lightning swiftness to the scene around me——

my vice-bench with the tools that lay about it,

the steerage, its interior dimly lighted,

the polished wood now here and there relieved

with shining brasswork,—and its salt-sea smells——

strange noises overhead of shouts and blows;

dull thuds and heavy scrapings on the deck

chilling my blood with fear. Upstairs I ran

He hears a
strange
hubbub overhead
and
finds the ship
has been
seized by the
savagesconvinced the savages had seized the ship.

But scarcely was my head above the hatch

when I could feel a rude hand grasp my locks ——

thus was I lifted from my feet and hung

in mid air for brief space——my hair being short

the silk that tied it slipped and so I fell

right back again all down the steerage stairs

and as I dropped received a glancing blow

that gashed my brow and took away my sense.

How long I know not——but I did come to

and tried to rise and fainted yet again.

Then I was waked to consciousness once more

by three tremendous Indian yells of hate

that seemed to freeze my blood. A wave of terror

swept over me, a sickness as of death——

for death I thought was near. And then the yells

changed to an exulting triumph song. I saw

the hatch above me had been closed and guessed

that I was held for torture; worse than death

might be my lot for I had heard dread tales

told by a member of our crew of deeds

done by the red men to their prisoners,

skinning alive and burning at the stake

and worse than these too terrible to tell——

tales that came thronging to my palsied mind

as now I lay and listened. The hatch was drawn.

Maquinna’s voice came down,——I knew it well;Maquinna
calls to John
to come on
deck

“John, you come up;” and I must needs obey.

Groping my way I staggered up the stairs,

my vision blinded by the blood that ran

down from my wounded scalp and faint with pain

and terror for the frightful fate I feared

faced me. The King, who saw my sorry plight,

bade a young brave bring forth a pot of water

and wash the clotted blood from off my face

so I could see. And what a sight was there!

Six naked warriors with their daggers raised

still dripping from the gore of my late shipmates

to plunge into my breast. I raised my eyes

in silent prayer that God accept my soul

and waited to receive their strokes of death,

but then the King advanced within the circle

and stood before me. “John,” he said, “I speak,

do not say “no” to me, for if you do,

these daggers drink your life blood and you die;

but you must promise true to be my slave;

for all your life to work and do my will,

to fight my battles and to make me spears

and guns and knives for use against my foes:

then I shall spare you.” I could but assent.

What else with death the grim alternative?He is saved
by the
intervention
of the King

And at his bidding kissed his hands and feet

to show submission; and as there I knelt

the brutes about me clamoured for my death

and shook their weapons with such show of rage

it looked as if the King could not prevail

to save me where I crouched low at his knees

from these red daggers; and they argued loud

that for their safety’s sake I needs must die

so there would be no witness of their deed,

the taking of the “Boston” and her crew,

to bring the white man’s vengeance by and by.

Raising his head with proud and lofty mien

the King spoke quietly, calm before their wrath,

and made them see he meant to have his will;

so, soon with sulky looks they ceased their threats

and I could tell that for a time at least

my life was safe. Yet in the swift revulsion

of feeling following and the chill March air——

for I had doffed my jacket for my work——

I shook as if with ague; and it seemed,

for pain and weakness I must faint away.

This the King noticed and he brought a cloak,——

the one the Captain wore, from out the cabin

to fling across my shoulders——rum to drink

right from the Captain’s flask and this revived

my drooping strength so I was fit to bear

the dreadful ordeal placed upon me now.

Straightway he led me to the quarterdeck

and there were ranged in rows upon the planking——He is shown,
one by one,
the heads of
the crew and
made to tell
the name of
each

a grisly sight that was for years to haunt me——

the heads of my slain shipmates marred and gory.

These one by one were lifted up to show me,

the Captain’s first——and I was made to tell

the name of each and what was his degree

among the crew——it was a ghastly task.

Some I could hardly recognize at all——

and as they passed before me in review,

these my late friends, so hearty and so hale

an hour or so before, I could but wish

that I had perished with them, so at peace

I would not then be facing such a fate,

a mournful vista down the weary years——

which now stretched out before me, as a slave

to these wild savages of Nootka Sound.

I am the Prince Sat-sat-sok-sis,

son of that great king, Maquinna

of the Indian tribe of Nootka,

twelve years old when next moon cometh.The King’s
son tells of
the joy of his
people over
the capture
of the brig

Wondrous things have lately happened ——

all our people are so merry——

we have triumphed o’er the white men,

taken their ship and brought it home here,

killed them all and cut their heads off,

all but two whose lives were spared them ——

spared to be my father’s bondmen.

John the young one, O I love him!

He is good and he is clever,

skin so white and hair all shining,

soft and shining in the sunlight,

eyes so blue just like the ocean,

hands so kind and strong and supple.

He has made me rings and armlets,

brooches, earrings forged from copper,

bracelets burnished like the sunset.

And he combs my hair out daily,

makes me wash with river water,

wash to keep my skin all cleanly,

sweet and fresh so “Wocash, Tyee,”

well the people may acclaim me

when I come to dance before them,

I, the King’s son, Sat-sat-sok-sis

of the Indian tribe of Nootka.

John prays to his own Quahootze,

whom he calls his Great White Father

and although my skin is yellow

I must worship too and fear him,

for he loves the little children

whether they are white or yellow——

so John says and I believe him.

Once I went with John and Thompson——

Thompson is the other white slave,

sire of John but not much like him——

he is cruel and I hate him——

to the lake outside the village

where they prayed to their White Father

from a book of sacred writings.

And I too knelt down beside them

for he is my Father also——

this John says and I believe him.

So you see the days are merry

for our happy Indian people.

We are strong and we are mighty

for we triumphed o’er the white man.He tells of
John’s
sadness

But I think John is not merry

though he’s brave and does not show it ——

never when among my people;

but with only me beside him,

sometimes he looks pale and lonely

and his eyes are sad with longing

for the sight of his own loved ones.

Then sometimes I sidle closer,

lift my hand up to caress him

for I know he is not happy

and I hunger to console him.

Then he puts his arm around me

and I think he feels less lonely.

He is kind and so I love him,

I, the little Sat-sat-sok-sis,

son of that great king, Maquinna

of the Indian tribe of Nootka.

I was the sailmaker of the ship,

John Thompson, of Philadelphia, U.S.A.

saved from the slaughter of the crew,

by the good offices of Johnny Jewitt,Thompson
tells how the
Indians were
induced to
spare his life

who said I was his dad so they might spare me

and so they did. Well, if I had a son

I had as lief that it were John

for he’s a decent boy

and has his wits about him——gad!

’T was like a play to see him rush to hug me

and slaver all my nose and beard with kisses,

me an old sea dog that has served the king

as boy and man for seven and twenty years,

sailed under Howe and fought the Frenchies

and never willingly would look at woman

since from my mother’s apron strings at eight years old

I ran away to sea as cabin boy

aboard a grimy collier. And the old chief

and all these greasy, smelly savages

stood gaping looking on nor did they know

just what to make of it. John vowed he’d die

if I, his poor old father was not spared,

and moaned and wept and wrung his wretched hands.

I could have laughed to split my bloomin’ sides

and yet the youngster’s cries and groans and tears

were done so natural and seemed so real,

damned if they didn’t make me ‘pipe my eye’

and there I sniffed and slobbered down his neck

just like that prodigal’s sire in Holy Writ

until the very savages were fooled

with our play-actin’ an’ they spared my life.

But many’s the time I wished they had not done so

and cursed the day that John thought up the lie

that made the old boy spare me——aye, Maquinna,

that greasy devil in all his furs and feathers.

He never knew how many times his life

hung by a single hair when these ten fingers

trembled to grip his throat and had they done so

not all that blasted, bare-legged tribe of his

would have availed to pluck the bastard free

before the bloomin’ breath had left his body

never to enter it again. Aye, aye,

but there was John to think about; and John

had still his life before him and was all

for getting free again and sailing home

and for the boy’s sake I must needs be prudent,

so swallow all the insults that the King

heaped upon me his bondman, but now John

he was the “white-haired laddie.”

Did not that little nipper, Sat-sat-sok-sis

follow him round just like a silly puppie,

and sleep in his bed at night? The queen

heaps on his plate her choicest dainties

of putrid seal or salmon. To them he’s welcome

for all of me. I laugh to see his nose

turn up disgusted while he tries to feign

appreciation of the loathsome morsels.

Faugh! just to live with such a filthy rabble

and be their slave, it fairly turns my belly

so I could spew! To think that I must bow

and stoop to do the will of such as these

and prostitute my trade of making sails

to shape a cloak for this mad, savage king

and court his favour like a lordling’s lackey!

Indeed, it were far better to be dead.

If there were not the Sunday for our surcease

I never could abide it. Now this John——He tells how
John and he
spend their
Sundays at
the lake

he has his wits about him I have said ——

and he’s as good’s a parson——had the guts

to tell the King that we must have our worship

must walk apart for prayer each weekly season——

nor did the old Maquinna say him nay.

And so we go with Bible and with prayer book

on the Lord’s Day as John has marked it down

to a small lake from Nootka not far distant

but where the yellow heathen never come.

There we sing songs of praise and read the Book

and make our prayers in quiet to the great Captain

that from our bondage he will set us free.

I never was no saint——no not John Thompson——

my lips more apt for cursin’ than for prayer,

so says to John, “The Lord will look askance

to see me on my marrow bones before him.

He’ll say, ‘young lad, you keep foul company,

to bring along a pirate such as he,

soiled with the stains of rank iniquities,

to join in your devotions,’ he’ll have none of you.”

But John he’d only smile his quiet, slow smile

and gravely shake his head and softly say:

“He walked with fishermen and humble folk,——

Peter and James and John and loved them well

vile as they were with sins and sordidness,

why should he not love you?” And so in sooth

I companied with him and sat there attentive

and listened reverently while he read——and how they
read the
scriptures
and prayed
that God
would save
them

and there were passages now and again

words of the Master healing and heart warming,

that seemed to have been spoken just for me

and they would nestle deep within my mind

and linger there like snatches of a song

to comfort me with their recurring strains.

John read of Jesus walking on the water

and how He made the winds and waves obey him

and healed the sick, recalled the dead to life,

and of that shipwreck miracle of St. Paul

wherein he brought the sailors safe to land

and nary a one was lost. And then the Psalms

of old King David——now there was a man

that sure was kin to all our joy and sorrow,

had words of cheer and wondrous consolation

that seemed to fit the case of John and me.

At first, I laughed and scoffed and teased the boy

but after that first Sunday at the lakeand how in
this way
they were
sustained in
their affliction

I never jeered no more for I believe

that had it not been for the blessed peace

and rest these hallowed seasons brought to us,

the sense of trust and hope and quiet communion,

with the supreme All Father, our Creator,

we could not have endured our dreadful lot,

the pain and fear and hardship that was ours

through the long months and years that were to pass

until that fateful day that brought us freedom.

Long were the days for me; wearily they passed

the chiefs were kind but not the common folk,

who while we lived saw danger to themselves

if any ship should come. Even King Maquinna,The King
decrees that
John must
marry or else
suffer death

for all his kindness, kept a jealous eye

to wean me from all wish to leave the tribe

and so decreed I must wear Indian dress

and wed an Indian wife. Not all my pleas

could aught avail to turn him from his plans ——

he said ’t was that or death, the choice was mine.

And so I deemed it were the lesser evil

that I should marry; and I gave assent

to his decree. Then was he greatly pleased

and granted grace that if I could not find

amongst his folk a maiden to my mind,

then I might choose one from some other tribe

and he would back my suit with all his power.

I, Eustoqua, the King’s only daughter,

the King, Upquesta, chief of the A-i-tizzarts,

now relate what did befall me.

The sun in the Western sky was sinking,Eustoqua
relates the
arrival of
visitors

sinking towards the water

and in the golden river of its rays,

lo, dark against its brightness,

we saw approaching two strange canoes.

In a brief space the beach whereon I stood

and where before there had been none but children

became a-throng with all our folk,

who ran out from the lodges and the woods

that lay behind them. Many raised hand to eye

that ’neath its shading they might better scan

the strangers in the offing. Were they friendly?

Or did they come as foes? My father bore his arms,

he and the other chiefs and all the men;

and some did shake them, testing their weight,

feeling the fineness of edge or point

with a fastidious finger. The women

pointing and chattering flitted here and there

with frightened scutterings; but not for me,

the daughter of the chief just turned seventeen,

to show my fear although within my bosom

my heart beat faster and a faint trembling

fluttered my limbs as I stood motionless

gazing to seaward. But they were not foes

in the canoes for as they nearer drew

we saw they were our Nootkan neighbours

with whom we had no cause of strife or quarrel.

Some time at rest they lay upon the bay;

and when he knew their quest was friendly,

my father sent Apala as his messenger

to bid them all a hearty welcome

and summon them ashore to sup with us.

Then in our lodge there was great stir

preparing the meal; my mother let me stay

to see them land; so there I waited

among the throng upon the sands, my cousins

and other maidens standing by me.

Maquinna first whom I had seen before,

a noble figure of a chief,

stept lightly on the shingle.

Next Sat-sat-sok-sis, his son, the Prince

and then the white slave we had heard of.She describes
the white
captive who
accompanied
them

We were all curious just to see him

for we had heard such marvellous things

that he could do, the weapons he could forge

and rings and bracelets fashion out of copper

and how he won the hearts of little children,

he was so kindly with them and so gracious

and made so many of the people love him——

when now I saw him I could understand it.

Nor did he look a slave but walked erect

and gazed about him fearlessly as if

he were a chief; his face with shining fairness;

his hair, not black, but sunny and golden,

round his temples curling soft and lustrous.

He wore his curious, awkward paleface clothes;

right after him came forty Nootkan braves,

and ten remained behind in the canoes

wherein we saw were laden handsome gifts

in furtherance of the purpose of their visit

which we were soon to learn;

nor did I yet know what a fateful thing

it was to prove for me.

They marched up from the shore right to our lodge,

my father led the way with Chief Maquinna

and I was fain to follow and to enter

with all the throng; this was a thrilling hour,

a ceremonial visit. We must await

and here assembled all would learn its cause

and list what these our friends had come to say

with fitting dignity and grave attention.

My heart beat fast. Curious I was to know

what was their quest and I was conscious too

of some new gladness I could not explain,

rapture that swelled within me not unmingled

with subtle pain poignant and penetrating

when thinking of the pale face I had seen

or greatly daring stealing furtive peeps,

that face so lovely like the moon for paleness,

that face I knew would haunt me in my dreams.

To be forced against one’s will to mate,

it is a fearful fate

but I was young and life was dear——

as an alternative there was death to fear.How
John Jewitt
set out to
seek a bride

I felt my courage rise again once more

as our canoes came nearer to the shore,

by the force of fifty paddles spurning

the blue waves and the foam churning

to seek the village of the A-i-tizzart race.

It was nigh sundown when we reached the place

and ushered by their chief we were assembled

in his lodge with his tribe. No wonder I trembled

when told to look about me and choose my bride!

There was a comely maiden by the chief’s side,

modest of mien and winsome with a charming face

lighter of hue than all the others and the grace

of modesty and kindliness were kindled there;

soft were her eyes and she had long, black hair

of such a softness, her form lissome and straight

like a young birch tree. Here might be a mate

that one could learn to love. With hope anew

my heart was lifted up; unwilling I drew

my eyes away lest I should seem to stare

at her alone among the maidens there;

candidates unwitting were they all arrayed

before me; and I too was on parade

for it was plain they looked intent on me

with a fixed, solemn gaze and I could see

not only all the women but each brave

had eyes for none but me. Maquinna’s slave,

whose fame to all the tribes around had spread,

who had wondrous skill making weapons, ’twas said.

I looked to right and left beneath the curious stare

of all assembled there. Maquinna, I was aware

sitting beside me was watching closely too

to see what I would do.

There was a hush upon the throng

and in my nervousness the time seemed long;

but of all the maiden faces there

there were none that could with the first compare

I caught her eyes, one fleeting glimpse and when

she turned them shyly down, why then

it was I knew my choice was made

and pointed her out to Maquinna. He saidMaquinna
approves his
choice and
presents gifts

“You have chosen well. She is good as she is fair

and the King’s daughter. Now must I do my share

to buy her for you to become your bride.”

Then he arose at my side

and took me by the hand

before them all and made me stand

in the midst in front of Upquesta; and then

he gave the sign for those of his men

who were waiting outside, to bring

the gifts to cast at the feet of the king.

With haughty mien they strutted down the hall,

bearing the cedar chests with them while all

kept silence; and they laid them down

before Upquesta, each with a forbidding frownHe then asks
for the
maiden in
marriage for
John and
lauds his
skill and
goodness

as if they hated what they had to do

and would have greatly liked to curse him too,

(such is their curious custom.) All the throng

rattled their spears and shouted loud and long,

acclaiming the gifts, and made the rafters ring

with cries of “Klack-ko, Tyee! thank you, Good King!”

Then when the clamour had somewhat died

Maquinna with an air of great dignity and pride

explained our mission, introduced me by name

and told of the manner in which I came

to be his servant; how though of different hue

I was as good as any of them; wiser too

in many ways for I had wondrous skill

working with metals and at my will

could make from them daggers, harpoons and knives,

vessels of iron to delight their wives

and also the most delicate ornaments and rings

fit for a chief’s adornment. So many things

there were I knew, more than he could tell,

about the countries I had travelled; and well

I knew the heavens, could call the stars by name.

Then he told how good I was——I blushed for shame;

how even the children loved me and his son,

the little Sat-sat-sok-sis was never done

in speaking of me; how all day long

the boy would chant my praise like the chorus of a song

“John this,” “John that” and would follow me around

just like a second shadow on the ground

devotedly. In short Maquinna said so priceless was I

that he would keep me always till I should die;

and now when going to settle down in life

most wisely I had decided to take a wife,

so here tonight many leagues across the water

had come to ask in marriage the King’s daughter,

whose budding beauty held my heart in thrall.

He said these gifts were mine and all

of them I laid here at Upquesta’s feet,

weapons and skins of matchless fineness meet

to purchase such a bride. With accents slow

and faltering first till speech began to flowUpquesta
first refuses
and then
consents

Upquesta made reply and all his people cheered.

First with a long harangue he said he feared

he ne’er could part with such a paragon

as this same daughter, her his only one

and loved so dearly; but in the end

he gave consent, called me his cherished friend

and hoped that I would ever be kind

to his Eustoqua. So would he be resigned

to bid her farewell; and as for her dower

I could take my gifts back, the skins for her bower

and the weapons to guard her; and then

two slaves he would give, two young men

to cut wood for our household, catch fish

for our table as it was his wish

she should never be hungry or cold.

Now the half of it cannot be told

of the feasting that followed that night;The visitors
depart for
home taking
the bride
with them

but our party were off by daylight,

Maquinna, his son and his braves

with me and my bride and my slaves;

and swiftly homeward we glided along

as the paddles kept time with our song.

I have sent her home,

my wife with her babe.

In weakness and pain

from cold and privation

I am nigh unto death.John tells
of his
separa-
tion from
his wife

Forced by Maquinna

to wear Indian clothing

and to work in the woods

cutting fuel for his fires.

 

Hungry and naked,

soon must I perish.

She is good and kind,

faithful and tender;

but if I should die,

who will befriend her?

Here among strangers,

far from her kindred,

why should I keep her?

 

I have sent her home,

Eustoqua, my wife;

she has passed from my life

to return to her father.

I shall see her no more;

and I stand on the shore

in weakness and pain,

in sickness and sorrow,

with no hope for the morrow.

Forth into the dark night

her canoe fades on my sight.

To part from my loved one,

  ’tis torment and pain;

now I’ve left him for ever

  ne’er to see him again!Eustoqua’s
Song

 

For the lodges of Nootka

  sink low on my sight;

and swiftly the paddles

  bear me far from delight.

 

Why in life need I linger

  now its glory is fled?

From my white love I’m banished

  and my spirit is dead.

 

But his child’s at my bosom,

  his babe’s on my breast,

shall I faint ’neath the anguish?

  shall I fail at the test?

 

No, the papoose I suckle

  shall bid me to live;

all the love that was John’s

  now to him will I give.

 

But the mem’ries I cherish

  shall not dim with the years;

nor his image e’er perish

  though blurred by my tears.

All health and vigour have gone out of me.

I crawl along the beach crippled with pain.

Naught can I eat and scarce can sleep at night.

I would that death which seems so near might come.Sick and
suffering,
John longs
for death

Poor Thompson’s case is nigh as bad as mine

for rheumatism has got its grip on him.

Today I saw a sight that made me sad:

An Indian slave had died in dreadful torment;

And when the breath had barely left his bodyHe is
depressed by
seeing the
body of a
dead slave
cast into
the sea

his callous master dragged it down the sands

and tossed it carelessly into the breakers

to pass out on the tide. This, I reflected

in a brief season will be my fate too,

unmourned and unattended to be flung,

food for the fish to feed on, whilst my folk

will never know at home what has befallen me.

My faith in God has hereto been my stay

but in my pain and weakness even this

now seems to fail me. Sweet was the surcease

when every Sunday we could seek the lake,

Thompson and I, and hold our solemn service

but now we’re both too weak——O for a ship

and liberty! or death with ease from pain!

Maquinna, when he saw that there was danger I should die,

  allowed me to resume my European dress;With the
resumption
of European
clothes,
John and
Thompson
improve in
health

and with proper warmth and nourishment my health began to mend

  and hope of freedom once again revived within my breast;

Then Thompson too could walk again and I could not but feel

  that God who had most marvellously saved us from despair;

and had put it in Maquinna’s heart to spare our lives thus far,

  might in the end restore us if it pleased his sovereign will.

One day working at the anvil,

I and Thompson making daggers

by command of King Maquinna,

heard the heavy boom of cannon

sounding loud across the waters,A ship at
last arrives

round the shores reverberating.

This was what we long had wished for,

that a ship would come to take us,

and my heart’s tumultuous beating

filled my breast with wild commotion,

panic fear with hope contending.

Soon the natives crowded round us

at the forge where we were working,

crying out with frightened clamour

that a ship was in the offing.

But we both kept right on working

for we dared not show our feelings.

Then came running King Maquinna

crying, “Have you heard the tidings?”

Taking time before I answered,

I kept pounding on the anvil,

feigning but a fine indifference

to the purport of his question

for we dared not show our feelings,John
declares his
unwillingness
to visit the
ship

dared not voice our heartfelt longings

to return to home and kindred.

“Would you like to go aboard her?

go aboard and see the ‘Bostons’,^[2]

who have come here in this vessel?”

asked the King, his keen eyes watching,

puzzled by my dogged silence,

“No, indeed,” at length I answered,

“I have learned to live among you,

learned to fish for whale and salmon,

learned to hunt the great sea otter,

and to face the mighty she-bear

rearing with her cubs behind her,

flesh my spear within her bosom.

Why then should I want to leave you?

leave this favoured land of Nootka,

where the fish are never failing

and the woods are full of berries,

where the lean, lank wolf of famine,

never lurks around your lodges?

If I go aboard the vessel,

these my countrymen would take me,

take me back among the white men,

wash the paint from off my body,

dress me all in formal garments,

cramp my limbs to my discomfort.

No, I will not board the vessel.”

“That is good,” said King Maquinna.

“Go aboard yourself,” I urged him,but advises
Maquinna
to do so

“and this ship will make you welcome.

They are here for trade and barter,

seeking skins that you can sell them,

precious furs of seal and otter;

and they have no thought of vengeance,

none at all,” I thus assured him.

“All right, John,” he answered quickly,

“I will go aboard this vessel;

but first you must make a writing

just for me to give the captain,

telling him to make me welcome

for the kindness I have shown you

ever since you came among us.

He’ll be glad then to receive me

and to trade for my sea otter,

plenty rum and sweet molasses,

blankets, guns and shining bracelets

all to make us rich and happy.”John writes
a letter to
the Captain
at Maquinna’s
command

“That I shall,” I promptly answered,

tore a sheet from out the notebook

that I carried in my tunic

and I straightway set about it

while the King sat grimly watching —

and my trembling fingers faltered,

trembling as they held the pencil,

just as if I had the ague.

Then I read the letter to him,

read it over not as written

but as if it gave the message

in the words himself had spoken.

And the tenor of my story

was of widely different purport,

for I told the captain plainly

he must keep Maquinna captive,

hold him hostage for our safety.

Setting out our situation

and the substance of its peril,

I assured him he could save us

if he would but do my bidding.

’Neath Maquinna’s scrutinizing

as I handed him the letter,

I could feel the hot blood flushing

in a flood right to my temples—

he had treated me so kindly

that it hurt me to betray him—

but I put a bold front on it,

luckily my face was painted

so to hide the telltale blushing

of the red stream that protested

this duplicity I hated.

Yet in such dire plight of peril

it was justified I reckoned.

Then the King, still hesitating,

still in doubt, once more to try me,

“Won’t you come with me?” he questioned,

but I hastened to make answer

that I had no wish to do so;

and with this he seemed contented.

So he straight dissolved the council

saying, “This affair is settled.

My canoe, be swift to launch it.

I shall go. Your King has spoken.”

So Maquinna arrived with his war canoe,

bravely manned with its royal crew

under the lee of the Lydia lying

at anchor with her house flag flyingMaquinna
is conveyed
to the ship

on the lazy waters of Nootka Sound,

a brig from Boston now homeward bound.

Her kindly skipper was Captain Hill,

he had veered from his course with right good will

taking the risk of the redskins braving,

in the hope of Maquinna’s captives saving.and is
welcomed by
Captain Hill

He welcomed the chief with a hearty hail —

but the crew were all mustered around the rail,

with weapons at hand so should need arise

they would not be taken by surprise.

The afternoon sun shone bright and fair;

balmy and fragrant the summer air

blowing soft on the surface of the sea,

freighted with breath of flower and tree

from the forest of green that fringed the sand

’neath the purple peaks so lofty and grand

outlined sharp ’gainst an azure sky.

The prospect was fair to the Captain’s eye

and as he surveyed the ravishing scene,

he thought of the Boston that might have been

still afloat with her master and crew,

alive to enjoy these pleasures too.

Maquinna climbed up o’er the Lydia’s rail—

his men’s dark hints had had no avail—

Proud was his look and his eyes were bright

as he stepped on the deck with naive delight.

There was something hard in the Captain’s smile,

a wryness of lip, a tenseness the while

he read the letter the King presented

but he shook his hand as if he meant it

and ushered him down at once below

to his cabin snug where a goodly show

of biscuits and bottles and crystal bright

seemed ready prepared for the guest’s delight.

The Captain offered the Chief a chair,

who straightway sat down with a satisfied air

feasting his eyes in expectation,

but not for long was his spirit’s elation;

for into the cabin with faces grim

five sailors filed surrounding him

and there was a pistol cocked and ready

in the captain’s hand held true and steadyMaquinna
is made
prisoner

to plant a ball in Maquinna’s breast

if he showed resistance. Then heavy hands pressed

upon his shoulders and held him fast

and shackles of steel on his wrists were cast

while his ankles were bound with an iron chain.

Resistance was futile, to struggle was vain.

The captured chief did not cringe nor cower

when he found himself in the white man’s power,

but he faced his foes with a courage innate

believing that death would be his fate.

‘A life for a life’ was his tribal rule,

‘Who spares his enemy is naught but a fool.

He is always a danger until he is dead.’

“You are my prisoner,” the Captain said,

“I shall hold you here till you restore

the white men, your slaves on yonder shore,

those who were spared of the “Boston’s” crew,

all done to death by your tribe and you.”

The terms seemed too good to be true to the chief,

such clemency seemed almost past belief;

and when Alana, his sub-chief was brought,He commands
that John and
Thompson
be set free

he told him the trick whereby he had been caught

and he sent ashore his royal decree

that the two white captives should be set free

and brought to the ship without delay.

The message proclaimed this the only way

to rescue him now from the white man’s power

that had ta’en him by guile in an evil hour.

Ere long we saw them coming back

the men—but no Maquinna with themJohn relates
how the
canoe returns,
but without
Maquinna

and from the folk around me rose

a chorus of distressful sounds,

subdued at first but rising fast,

grunts from the men and women’s wails,

for in the paddlers’ drooping mien,

they sensed that there was something wrong.

The big canoe soon reached the shore.

With downcast eyes the men leapt out

and stood dejectedly at bay

before the crowd that sought to know

why had they come without the King?

 

They replied that their chief was in chains

and ‘John had wrote bad of him,’ so

the Captain was holding him hostage

The people
are told
what has
happenedfor the safety of Thompson and me.

Then there was more howling and tears

and women were tearing their hair.

The men were all arming with spears

and some of them threatened me sore

and vowed they would cut me in bits

or hang me up by the heels

to burn me slow o’er a fire

or would bind me fast to a tree

and strip me and skin me alive.

But I felt I had little to fear

with Maquinna held hostage on board

for they would not endanger his life

by the killing of Thompson and me.

Then the chiefs made the rabble keep quiet

and bade me to tell them why

their King had been treated this way.

Did I think he was going to be killed?

I assured them they need have no fear

if they would but do as I asked

to let me and my comrade go free.

In that case their king would be safe.

No harm would come to him at all.

First they must send over my mate;

and this they were willing to do,

so I saw the sailmaker embarkedThompson
is sent over
to the
“Lydia”

and carried off safe to the ship.

I was heartened to see him go

and to know that at least he was free.

My own fate was still in suspense

but I asked those around me to say

just what they proposed now to do.

They argued together a while,

then Alana, the sub-chief replied.

A “paper-writing” I must make

to the Captain on board the brig

and bid him to send a boat

with five men aboard and no more,

who should bring Maquinna ashore.

As soon as his foot touched the land,

then I should leap into the boat

and be carried back safe to the ship.John rejects
the plan
proposed for
exchanging
him for
Maquinna
but offers one
of his own

Then all would be peaceful again.

But I pointed out this would not do

for the Captain would never consent

to endanger his boat and its crew

by venturing close to the beach,

since he knew what had happened before

to the Boston and all her men,

my shipmates whose lives had been lost

by trusting to them and their Chief.

I proposed they should launch a canoe

and man it with three stalwart braves

and put me forthwith in the prow

to carry me out in the bay

within easy hail of the ship.

Then I would the Captain call

and ask him to send a boat

with Maquinna on board out to us,

so we could make an exchange,

their loved chief for me midway

between the ship and the shore.

All the trouble would then be past.

To this they were soon agreed.

Three of them brought the canoe.He is
embarked in
a canoe with
three Indians

Lightly I leapt to its prow.

They were used to seeing me armed

and forgot I was wearing them now—

my dagger that hung at my side

and my pistol stuck in my belt—

while they had their paddles alone.

Softly we skimmed o’er the sea.

Exultant I looked at the shore,

watching its outlines recede,

the faces grow smaller and smaller,

faces of foes full of fear,

fear for the fate of their Chief

and of hate for me as its cause.

With my back to the ship I could feel

that nearer and nearer we drew.

The faint summer breeze fanned my cheek,

the throb of the waves seemed to croon

of freedom and friends and of home,

fair faces I loved far away,

in this perilous time of stress,

these visions passed through my brain.

We were soon within hail of the brig

and the paddles had ceased to play,

soon motionless lay the canoe.and when
they come near
the “Lydia”
he forces them
to take him
right up to
the ship

Now I knew that the time had come,

I must act but my courage was cold.

My limbs had grown suddenly numb

and my lips dumb with craven fear

as sometimes in a dreadful nightmare;

but I put up a prayer to God

to grant me my manhood again

and straightway my strength was restored.

From my belt then my pistol I drew

and threatened the men whom I faced,

now sitting there irresolute.

I bade them pull up to the ship

or suffer an instant death.

They were taken by sore surprise

and showed no resistance at all

but were fain to obey my behest

and paddled right up alongside.

 

He goes
aboard and
is welcomed
by the
CaptainSo then behold me climbing o’er the rail

and welcomed heartily by Captain Hill,

then after him by all his kindly crew.

Thompson, whom I had hoped to see on deck,

their hospitality proved too much for him

and now he lay dead drunk down in the hold

lost to the world. Indeed, he had succumbed,

almost as soon as he had come aboard,

to his potations; and thus Captain Hill

could get nor rhyme nor reason out of him.

So I must needs relate our stirring story

from the beginning to him; and his wrath

was fanned to fury as my tale went on.

He vowed to hang Maquinna out of hand

for the fell massacre of all our crew.

Had I not showed him what great provocation

from men of our own race the King had suffered

and pointed out he lived by different standards

than such as he or I; and truly told

how he had saved my life and that of Thompson,

had shown us numerous kindnesses as well,

he would have done so; then he said at last

he would be guided just by what I wished

and thus would guard himself from any blame.

Maquinna brightened up at sight of me

when I went down with Captain Hill to see him

and cried out “Wocash, John!”

I must confess to something of a shockJohn visits
Maquinna
in the cabin

to see the chief in chains.

He, who had lately been my master

even to the power of life and death,

now sat before me with our rôles reversed

shorn of his liberty and pride.

Nor did it cause me any exultation

to see him humbled thus before me;

and I made haste to ask the Captain’s sanction

to strike the irons from his hands and feet,

the which I said it would be safe to do.

I told Maquinna we would spare his life

but he must now surrender all the spoils

that he had ta’en ashore from off the Boston,

so that we could restore them to her owners;

and when his people brought those all aboard,He tells
Maquinna
his life will
be spared

then he would have his freedom and could go.

Darkness was now descending. ’Twas too late

tonight to bring them off but on the morrow

this could be done. The King was much distressed

at the delay and begged that through the night

I would remain with him and this I did.

For despite my assurance he was frightened

the Captain still might punish him with death.

His simple mind trained in the savage standard,

‘an eye for an eye’ could scarcely comprehend

such clemency as promised. All night long

he did not sleep nor would he let me do so,

reminding me how he had stood my friend

when all his tribe were clamouring for my death.

So o’er and o’er again I strove to quiet him

until at length the cheerful morning came.

And then I hailed his men and straightway bade

that they must bring the various things aboard,

cannon and anchors and the Boston’s papers,

my trunk and Thompson’s and my precious journal.

When this was done Maquinna would go free.

So, two hours later all had been restored.

Maquinna’s war canoe came out to get him

with sixty otter skins for Captain Hill,

a present from the Chief in recognition

that he had spared his life. And when at last,

the Captain told him now that he could go,

the Chief jumped up in ecstasy of joy

and drew the royal mantle from his shoulders—

four of the choicest skins it took to make it—

to give his liberator; and the Captain

with generosity not to be outdone,

gave his own hat and topcoat to the Chief,

who showed great satisfaction with the gift.

The Captain also promised to Maquinna

to come back later on within the year

and do some trading with him and his tribe.

 

Maquinna
says
‘good-bye’
to JohnThen Maquinna turned to me,

deeply moved as I could see.

Down his cheeks the big tears fell

as he faltered his farewell.

Strangely too I felt the parting

nor could stay my own tears starting

as he begged me to come back—

nothing ever should I lack—

he and his held me so dearly.

It was plain he spoke sincerely.

Then to the rail he lightly stept,

and down among his warriors leapt,

who bore him swiftly to the shore,

o’erjoyed to have their king once more.

 

Soon the little Sat-sat-sok-sis

came out in his tiny shallop,

just to take his farewell also.Sat-sat-sok-sis
comes aboard
to take
farewell
also

And he climbed aboard the vessel,

climbed up o’er the rail to greet me,

took my hand in his so shyly,

hid his face against my tunic,

could not speak he felt so deeply.

In his eyes the tears were starting.

I, too, deeply felt our parting.

In my arms I quickly raised him,

kissed him softly on the forehead;

and he whispered, “Wocash, Tyee;^[3]

wocash, John,” he whispered gently.

On the deck then soft I placed him;

but he slipped from out my fingers,

slithered nimbly to the water

where at rest his shallop floated,

seized with haste his tiny paddle,

sped in silence swiftly shoreward.

Thus the little Sat-sat-sok-sis

and his father, King Maquinna

of the valiant tribe of Nootka,

passed from out my ken for ever.

“We are de fur traders an’ we make

 our highways o’er de rivière and lake,

 our moving home de frail, birch bark canoe; . . .”

We are de fur traders an’ we make

our highways o’er de rivière and lake,

our moving home de frail, birch bark canoe;

mos’ time it carries us, sometime we bear it too

for when de rapides are too swift to run

we make portages. Always we toil from sun to sun

so hard, so hard de precious furs to bring

safe to de Fort, then by gar, we laugh, we sing.

We no care now for perils that are past,

de rapides dangereux, de shrieking tempest blast.

Non, non, forgotten all dose troubles of de trail

when we make beeg revel in de grande regale.

’Tis then, de voyageur he feel like king

an’ he dance, he fight and do mos’ anyt’ing!

We left Fort Chipewyan the Eighth of May

at seven in the evening in our bark canoe,Mackenzie
and his
voyageurs
embark
on their
search
for the
Western Sea

just twenty-five feet long inside,

an easy burden for two men to carry.

Three thousand pounds of load aboard her,

provisions, guns and all our baggage

and ten made up our party,

seven Company men besides myself

of proven loyalty and courage

and then two Indians to interpret for us

and hunt for game along the way.

Ere we set off my people offered prayers

that we might safe return;

and those we left behind to hold the fort

were moved to tears when bidding us farewell,

knowing the dangers that we well must face

on this wild journey now embarked upon,

to cross the mountains to the Westward

and seek a passage to the sea.

This Canyon of the Mountain of the Rocks

through which the mighty Peace flows down tumultuously

to pierce the foothills of the Rockies,Mackenzie
describes
their passage
through the
Canyon of
the Mountain
of the Rocks

deploying with its floods upon the plains,

it nearly brought our enterprise to naught.

Some Indians we had met had clearly told us

that to ascend it was impossible;

but we assayed the task. From side to side

of the great stream manoeuvered skilfully,

our fragile craft bearing its heavy burden

we forced to stem the current. Near the outset

’twas crushed against a rock with shuddering force,

broken and swamped but yet we pulled it forth

and made repairs and dried out all the cargo,

again consigning to the angry waters

that sought to sweep us to destruction.

And now we passed ’twixt walls of beetling cliffs,

three hundred feet above the river’s bed

that hindered from our course the sun’s bright rays

and shrouded us in shadow and in gloom.

By dint of almost superhuman effort

we passed along from island unto island

while up above, the Indians and Mackay

looked down upon our struggles apprehensive

that any moment we might meet disaster

amid the maelstroms of the raging torrent.

And now we used a sixty-fathom towline

to pull our craft against the stream;

and I myself climbed up the cliff,

thinking that from its height I might direct

the struggle with advantage; for from here

the stream with all its whirls and rips and eddies

and hidden rocks lay clear within my ken.

But when I shouted down

at the full pitch of my voice

to tell them they must lighten the load

in the canoe if they would have her live,

the sound was lost in the river’s roar

and the ceaseless din of its seething waters.

O to watch them thus

in their desperate strife

as they fought with the flood,

walking with uncertain footing

when one false step must be fatal,

straining at the laden craft

when the rope might part at any moment

bringing our voyage to swift disaster

and be helpless to aid or guide them,

was to suffer terrible torment.

Nor was the danger from the stream alone;

large rocks were ever hurtling from its cliffs

and falling around them in potential death.

Later the frail canoe was wrecked again

and yet again we patched its broken sides.

The day has been a day of direful toil

and titan struggle. Now, thank God, it’s over;

and here we rest upon a stretch of beach.

And as we sup before our driftwood fire,

our aching limbs relaxing in its glow

that dries our dripping garments and we taste

its pungent, acrid smoke within our nostrils,

there comes a sense of comfort and of peace.

The evening shades are closing in about us.

Here as we thus recline we look on high

o’er to the banks upon the other side

and mark outlined against the darkening sky,The sight of
some elk
feeding on
the bank
opposite to
them brings
encouragement

a peaceful group of elk are quietly grazing

unmindful of our presence. And we feel

here in the desolation of these unknown wastes

not near so solitary as before.

A subtle, soothing sense of solace comes ——

these are our fellow creatures and our kin

‘dreeing their weird’ too ’neath the Creator’s ken,

whose providence thus far has brought us through.

Cheered by the thought of His pervading care,

I fortify my soul to meet the morrow.

Today as usual I went on ahead

Mackay, my foreman, the two Indians with me;

and we climbed up above,Mackenzie
climbs away
from the
river and
loses touch
with the
canoe party

while the canoe and party down below

made progress of their best along the stream.

Laboriously at last we reached the summit

only to find more hills that cupped us round

and so we came back down unto the river

and gave the signal that we had agreed on,

two musket shots, to which no answer came.

Thinking they were ahead we hurried on

taking a short cut through the woods

to cross the loop that there the river made

and struck it higher up where we could see

a long, straight reach ahead. Still no canoe

and still our signal brought forth no reply

to gladden our straining ears. On, on again

we marched till noon and fired two shots once more

with no result except to wake the echoes

that mocked us. So then I went back

to where we first had signalled;

and there I found my men

had retraced their steps four miles

but had seen no sign

of our lost comrades.

So Mackay and Cancre, the Crab,

one of our Indian hunters,

I sent back down the stream

while we, the other Indian and myself,

went forward. The heat and fatigue

and the clouds of mosquitoes and flies

that plagued us each foot of the way

made us ready to faint in our tracks.

At last overcome with fatigue

we were just making ready a bed

of branches whereon we might rest

when we heard musket shots to our rear,

first one, then another, then two

that seemed to be farther away.

But I was not minded to move

and was ready to camp for the night——

in spite of the hunger and cold

that vexed us——but not so the guide,

who was not as spent with fatigue,

and he begged and implored me with tears

to return down the stream. So at last

I yielded myself to his will.

Thank God! for his way was the best.

Just at nightfall we heard a halloo

in answer to ours. Then ere long

we came within sight of a fire;

and there were our friends safe and sound

and there on the bank, the canoe.

Soon with food and a jorum of rum

the trials of the day were forgot.

After all our toil and danger

what a joy it was to find ourselves

on a large navigable stream

on the west side of that great rangeThey find
a stream
flowing
westward

that perhaps might take us to the sea.

But such hopes were ill-founded

for some Indians that we met

told us it was impassible

with swift rapids in many places

and high cliffs and rugged mountains

besides fierce tribes that would murder us.They hear of
a practicable
way to the sea

But we learned that we might pass over land

to a river running westward

and a trail led out from this

that would take us to the sea,

that “lake of stinking water”

as styled by the Indians.

I was eager to attempt it

but my men were faint-hearted,

unwilling to follow me.

They feared the hostile tribes

through which we must pass

and they were anxious to return.Mackenzie
finds a guide

I secured an Indian guide

and then I called my men to council

and put the case before them

when they all agreed to follow me.

For I told them most earnestly

that if they refused to do so

I should still go on alone

to seek a passage to the sea.

“I set my name, writ large, upon a rock

 in characters of bright vermilion:

 ‘Alexander Mackenzie from Canada by land’.”

We went back up the river, Tesse Tatouche.

The Indian tribe to which our guide belongedThe guide
takes fright
and runs
away

took fright at our return and all had fled;

and then, he too, infected by their flight

departing followed them into the woods

and thus it seemed was gone beyond recall.

My people, they completely lost their nerve.

They thought the tribes would surely ambush us

and we would all be massacred; and soMackenzie’s
men wish
to return

they wanted forthwith to turn back again.

Our canoe was quite unfit for any use

so that we had to build a new one.

The men talked sulkily behind my back

which I pretended not to know about.

Then finally I let them understand

that I was cognizant of all their thoughts;

but I would have them frankly speak their mindsbut he lets
them know
he is
determined
to proceed

and open up their plans. Yet as for me,

my course was set and my decision fixed

that I would journey onward to the sea.

But still the work progressed with the canoe

and soon it lay complete beneath our hands

and then to my great joy the guide came back.

He said that now his folk were friendly to us

and he was willing still to lead our way.

Next day we buried some of our provisions,

pemmican, rice and other food supplies;They cache
provisions
and lay up
the canoe,
then set out
afoot for the
Western Sea

and our canoe we set up on a staging

covering it safe from damage by the sun.

Then off we set upon our woeful walk

of nigh three hundred miles to the sea

each man bearing his pack

near a hundred pounds on his back.

This was the Fourth of July

in “Seventeen-ninety three”

and ere but fifteen days had passed

though marching on short rations

suffering much from cold,

meeting with the various tribes

who gave us help or hindrance,

according to their several dispositions,

we had traversed to the ocean.

The Indians on the coast were far from friendly

we dared not linger long among them.

So on the twenty-second of the month

we turned our faces eastward towards home

hoping to reach the Fort ere winter closed.

Before we went, for a memorial,

I set my name, writ large, upon a rock

in characters of bright vermilion:

“Alexander Mackenzie from Canada by land”

and gave the date as well for all to see.

I penetrate to tracts unknown,

following the course of great rivers

and the shores of large lakes,

finding the passes through the mountains.

With sextant and compass I labour,

making maps for others to follow

that the world’s waste spaces

may become populous and fruitful

David
Thompson
joins the
Hudson’s Bay
CompanyConsider David Thompson now,

bred in Westminster, England,

of humble stock taught in the Grey Coat School

a charity foundation, and from there

apprenticed to the Hudson’s Bay,

a seven years’ term, and sent to Canada.

Behold this tender lad of just fifteen

arriving at Fort Churchill and from thence

sent with two Indians to York Factory,

a walk of just a hundred and fifty miles

in that bleak, desert region of the North

and there he stayed a year.He goes west
to the
Saskatchewan

Then next we find him away out west

trading along the far Saskatchewan.

Then fraternizing for the Company’s weal

among the Blackfeet and the Piegans,

he spent a winter in an old chief’s lodge,

near where the town of Calgary now stands,

and learned a great deal of the Indian ways

and how to win their favour and their trust.

and starts
his great
work of
exploration
and surveyHe then took up the task that was to be

the life work he would follow

for the next nigh on to thirty years,

to explore and to survey this virgin tract

its rivers, lakes and mountains and its plains

in which he travelled fifty thousand miles

with compass and with sextant making maps

and opened it to settlement and trade:

his was a realm of wide expanse and wonder,

the Kootenay Country and the Pend d’Orielles——

where live the Indians of the Pendant Ears——

and the Columbia River’s mighty basin,

that mystic, fabled River of the West.

From the headwaters down its winding flood,

he was the first to follow. Ardent soul,

this David Thompson, great geographer;

of finer fibre than the common clay,

wise with the natives, winsome in his ways,

courageous, strong, and like the Christ in heart.

The ways of destiny are strange indeedDavid
Thompson
recalls how
opportunity
came to him

as one looks back on life, past human probing.

We struggle on for years toward our end

and meet with naught but hindrance and frustration

until at last like pieces in a puzzle,

events arrange themselves in favouring form

the road is opened up which we may pass

towards the dear aim of our hearts’ desiring.

’T was so with me in “eighteen-six” and “seven,”

when I was sent to Rocky Mountain House

with full instructions thence to cross the mountains

and push the North West Company’s trade beyond.

It was a time of progress and achievement.

A friend of mine soon followed to the Coast

the river Fraser which now bears his name——

that was up Northward, ’way there in the South.

Lewis and Clark had crossed from the Missouri

and paddled down the Snake to the Columbia,

by which they traversed right out to the ocean.

But in between there lay a mighty empire

which was my oyster and I opened it.

Our way was by the North Saskatchewan——

Lewis had had a brush with Blackfeet braves

and all the tribes were on the trail for war

and this had drawn the Piegans to the South

and left the passes open through the mountains.

I took my wife and children and MacDonald

and with some half-breeds made the great adventure.

Then when at last, after great pains and struggle,and he sees
water that
flows
westward

we reached a rivulet flowing to the west,

reverend I prayed “May God in His great goodness,

give me to witness where these waters join

with the great sea and come safe home again.”

From thence we travelled on by toilsome ways

to the headwaters of that tortuous river,He describes
the building
of old
Kootenay
House

the great Columbia and we built a fort

on its precipitous bank above the water

stockaded on its landward sides with fir,

that was Old Kootenay House of dear repute,

the first fur-trading post on that famed stream,

a place where I spent many anxious days.

For ’t was not long that we were left in peace.and how the
Piegans
encamped at
his gates,
but depart
after a time

Twelve Piegan Indians camped before the gates,

ere yet the fort was finished; one month more

saw twice as many others pitch their tepees

beside them; and we lived in constant fear

they would attack and kill us one and all.

Though food was scarce I dare not let my men

go forth for hunting so we went on rations

and for our water nightly when ’t was dark

two kettles to the river we let down.

Then suddenly one day our foes had gone

and yet we dare not count the peril pastThen Piegan
spies come
to visit

for shortly after, two more Piegans came,

stalking in stolid fashion to the gate.

At once I took them in, showed them around

and pointed out the strength of our defense,

the stockades and the bastions with the loopholes

pierced in the walls through which to fire our muskets

“We know,” I said, “that you have come as spies.He sends back
with them a
warning as
well as gifts

Your tribe intends to put us all to death

but many of you first shall fare afar

to the great hunting grounds for which you yearn,

your passage sped by bullets from our guns

and those of our good friends and allies.”

Then here I pointed where two Kootenay braves

who, also come to visit us that day,

stood glaring fiercely at their Piegan foes.

“We shall not die alone you may be sure.

This you can tell the chiefs who sent you here.

But still to show my goodwill I shall send,

rich gifts for all of them which you shall take.

For Kootenae Appee, who was once my friend,

a pipe of porphyry red and richly carved

and six feet choice tobacco and for each

of those the lesser chiefs, a fourth as much

that all may smoke in kindly love and peace.”and his
enemies
depart

I then dismissed them with an anxious heart

and forthwith all that host, three hundred braves

who had assembled twenty miles away

with purpose firm to fall upon our fort,

they vanished as by magic on the morrow.

Let Kootenae relate how it befell.

“A friend of mine soon followed to the Coast

 the river Fraser which now bears his name . . .”

I, Kootenae Appee of the Piegans, chief,

had never wished for war with Koo-koo-sint^[4].

He was my friend these many summers goneKootenae
Appee tells
how the tribes
assembled
near Kootenae
House
bent on its
destruction

when we were camped by the Saskatchewan,

(he spent a winter with us in the tent

of old Saukamappee,) a white man true,

who always kept his word and could be trusted

and he would hearken well to all my tales

and loved to hear me talk. Why should I now

go out with other chiefs and seek to kill him?

And this I asked of Big Nose and Tall Feathers,He himself
pleads for
peace

who thirsted for the blood of Koo-koo-sint

and all those who were with him at his fort.

I said to these two chiefs and to their braves:

“How can we smoke to the Great Manitou

and put up prayers that he will prosper us

if, without warning, we swoop down to kill

these friendly folk with whom we are at peace

now ten long summers?” But my words were vain,

the chiefs and all their braves cried out for war

their chatter, first like pebbles in a pan,

became a deafening clamour without sense

like sound of many waters in my ears

till I was forced to yield unto the fools.but is
overruled

So here we were encamped three hundred strong

and we had sent two spies to Koo-koo-sint

to see how best to take him by surprise

and learn the strength or weakness of the post.

Now these had safe returned and we were met,

all the war chiefs in council to confer;

and as the envoys, standing in our midst,

gave their report we lent attentive ear.

The envoys
present their
report to the
War CouncilBut when they told how they had been received,

how Koo-koo-sint had shown them o’er the fort,

his high stockades and bastions and his guns,

and promised that if we should take their lives

full many of us first must needs be slain,

the faces around me fell; frowns of dismayand the
Chiefs are
filled with
dismay

distorted features that before were calm;

and when the spies told how our ancient foes,

the Kootenay Indians would defend the fort

and help the white men and they showed the gifts

of choice tobacco Koo-koo-sint had sent,

a clamour rose, “What can we do” some cried

“with such a man as this? why these our women

cannot e’en mend their shoes but he will see,

this white man who wins wisdom from the stars!”

Big NoseThere was a sudden pause ere Big Nose spoke:

“With my sharp knife,” he said, “I well can cut

through tents to stab and kill my enemies

and so I have done and I still would do;

but these strong walls of wood no ball will pierce

with men behind them, who have been my friends

and whom I cannot see, I do not like them!declares
against war

I go no further!” and he took the pipe,

that wondrous pipe that Koo-koo-sint had sent,

all colours like the rainbow in the sky,

and filled its bowl full with the fragrant weedand the
Pipe of Peace
is passed
around

and handed it to me and I did smoke

and all the others, one by one, they followed

from hand to hand this pipe of peace went round.

Then by the break of day we folded tents

and tribe by tribe, each slipped off silently;

and I rejoiced that Koo-koo-sint sat safe.

He was my friend and liked to hear me talk,

there away North by the Saskatchewan,

and he would hearken well to all my tales,

which, ’tis well known, is love’s true testament.

Ho! a great man that David Thompson!One of
Thompson’s
men describes
how the
Great Divide
was crossed
by way of the
Athabasca
Trail

I took the trail with him on that wild trip;

the Piegan Indians they were after us

and we were forced to find a different route

out of the mountains to transport our furs

to save them and our own dear skins as well ——

I’ll take my oath it was no picnic party.

One long detour of nigh four hundred miles

through such a country as you never saw

of mountains, streams and miry muskeg swamp

and fire-swept lands criss-crossed with fallen trees

almost impassable for laden beasts,

we made the Athabasca in a month

of constant struggle. And our food was short

for game was scarce. Not far from Brulé Lake

the guide advised us that it was too late

to take our horses through the mountain trails.

We sent them back to Rocky Mountain House,

all but just four we kept to help the dogs

and make their burdens lighter. Now the cold

was biting keen at “thirty-two below”

with sometimes wind as well to make it worse

and we made shift to build a shelter rude

of logs inside of which we set to work

contriving sleds and snowshoes for the trail.

That took us near a month and then again

we set off bravely up the river’s bed,

urging the dogs along its icy face

with whip and voice for their encouragement.

Five days and we had reached the meadowed pools

where the great Athabasca has its source,

and beyond which there is no pasturage.

Here we were forced to turn the horses loose

to find their sustenance as best they might

and climb the mountains with the dogs alone.They
arrived at
the summit

It took us four days more to reach the summit

and what a desolate, awesome sight we saw.

Ranging all ’round about us lofty peaks

snow-clad and roseate ’neath the Westering sun

shimmered in shining splendour; on our right

a mighty glacier lay whose eastern face

showed a sheer drop of full two thousand feet.

Nearby below upon the mountain side

we could descry where some great avalanche

had shorn the tree trunks with its mighty stroke

to leave a piteous travesty of stumps,

all equal length like bristles in a brush,

where once a forest flourished. ’Twas a scenethe men are
appalled by
the solitude

to chill the heart with loneliness and dread;

and as we gazed around upon this sea

of mighty mountains rising wave on wave

far in the distance and then turned our eyes

on one another, such a forlorn band

of pusillanimous pigmies, then our hearts

seemed turned to water, all our courage dead.

The air was still but should a wind arise,

the snow that clothed the slippery slopes above

might thunder down in fearful avalanche

and bury our whole band in one grim grave.With a long
pole they
pierce down
through the
snow, but to
their great
alarm they
cannot find
any bottom

Three of our lads had trimmed a slender pole

with which they pierced down through the yielding snow

full twenty feet or more yet found no bottom,

then pulled it up again. We looked with awe

into that hole, our faces tense and strained,

aghast and staggered by the stunning thought

of all that depth between us and the ground

and still no contact with it. Words of dread

we spoke of it in accents of dismay

with mien of deep dejection and despair.

A sturdy, stocky figure joined our group,

our leader, David Thompson. He had watched

our operations and had overheard

our colloquy of fearfulness and awe.

Here I should say in justice to us men

that of our courage we had given our proofs

in days gone by. If now we lost our nerve

we were not normally a coward crew

and I were blithe to fight the man who said so.Thompson
gently
reproves their
fear and his
own serenity
restores their
courage

But he, our leader, had a kindly way——

he never spoke with harshness or reproach

and all of us would follow him through fire.

Now he spoke softly glancing round the ring:

“What matters it, Jules Tremblay, that you find

no bottom to the snow beneath our feet,

since we have snowshoes and can stick on top

with greatest ease and walk about on it?

Just look you here in this deep hole you’ve made,

what a remarkable phenomenon

I’ve never found before! See, by degrees

how this same snow that ’frights you changes hue,

grading from darkest blue below to green

of purest emerald here at the top.

My lad, this earth is full of wondrous things

to charm our fancy and to lift our thoughts

to the Creator, who designed it all;

and since we know that we are in His hands

we should not ever show ourselves afraid.”

Serene and calm his mien, assured his voice,

it was the scientist spoke, the man of God,

with the trained mind and understanding heart,

who with his vision clear and quiet faith

was kept immune to sublunary fears.

We looked and listened; and somehow the scene,

before so lone and desolate and drear

all in a moment lost its sinister air,

the mountains seemed more friendly, less forlorn

and we could face the future and fare on

with quiet assurance to our journey’s end.

That night so brightly shone the stars above,

it seemed I might have touched them with my hand;In the
morning they
resume their
journey with
hope renewed

Then in the morning we were up betimes,

and with new hope and courage in our hearts,

harnessed the dogs and started down the slopes

that led to the Columbia’s mighty bed.

I am Heeokstekin^[5] of the Nesperees^[6] tribe

and when I was a boy I can rememberHeeokstekin
tells about
a visitor

a Flathead visitor to my father’s lodge

telling a wondrous tale.

There to his village recently had come

a band of roving Iroquois

far travelled o’er the mountains and the plains

from Coughnawaga Mission near Montreal.

Their leader, “Old Ignace,” a noble chief

honoured the white man’s God,who has
a strange
tale to relate

whom he declared had died to save us all

and now He reigned on high in power and might;

and He was greater far than all our gods.

Yet He was pitiful and tender,

more prone to pardon than to punish,about
the white
man’s God

loving the white man and the red man too,

and caring naught for the colour of the skin

so long as the heart was clean.

As I lay listening upon the ground

before the fire, I saw this Flathead’s eyes,

there as he talked, glow with a kindling flame

of fervour e’en my boyish wits could senseHeeokstekin’s
father
returns with
the visitor to
the village of
the Flatheads

that showed he too now loved the white man’s God

and was His loyal follower. He talked,

my father listening eager to such end

that on the morrow ere the sun was high

they left together for the Flathead’s village.

That was now twenty years agoHeeokstekin
and his people
learn more
about the
“black robes”

my father learned to love the white man’s God

and so did I and others of our tribe

and many of the Flatheads too.

These Iroquois had wondrous tales to tell

which from the “black robes” they themselves had heard——

white men who served this Saviour whom they worshipped,

whose hearts were loving and whose deeds were kind,

who set no store by furs and sold no guns

but gave and wanted nothing in return

even as they said their Master taught them.The people
long to know
more and are
told that the
“black robes”
if they knew
would come
to teach them

And as the years went by our love grew strong

and we would fain learn from the “black robes” too

all that they had to tell; and old Ignace

said if they knew we wished it they would come

and dwell among us; nor would distance daunt them

nor danger by the way of savage tribes

nor raging torrents, nor of desert suns,

arrow by night or noisome pestilence——

all these they held as naught when call of duty

bade them go forth bearing His joyful tale.

So we set off, a group of us——

mounted on our fleetest poniesA group made
up from the
two tribes
go off
to tell the
“black robes”
their need

in the spring when the sap was flowing——

Flatheads and Nesperees,

on the long, long traverse,

to St. Louis, that great city,

where we might find the “black robes,”

those servants of the Great Spirit,

who would come to teach our people

and tell them about their Lord.

And O the lakes and rivers,Heeokstekin
describes the
difficulty and
dangers of
the journey

and O the weary mountains,

the hunger and the thirst

and the fear of the fierce foes

who ambushed us by night

and dogged us in the daytime,

the heartaches for home,

the longing for our own folk,

that made our spirits heavy

as we journeyed without flagging

to St. Louis, that great city

and we reached it at last——

but not all who set out——

alas not all who set out!and tells of
those who
died en route

For three died by the tomahawk,

two were drowned in a rapid,

a she-bear killed another

whose cubs he had frightened,

and but four of us arrived

at St. Louis that great city

to search out the “black robes”

and make known of our quest to them

and the hope that we cherished.

We never knew there wereHeeokstekin
describes
their feelings
of wonder
and loneliness
in the
great city

so many people in the world;

and all the wonders that we saw

I have not words to tell of them.

Our hearts that ever had been brave

now turned to water at such sights

as we beheld them; and our feet

used to the soft ways of the wild

were weary on their streets of stone,

those endless streets that stretched so far——

our ponies we had long since lost——and their
satisfaction
at reaching
their
journey’s end

We walked as strangers; as we passed

the people turned their heads to stare.

O we were lonely, we were sad

but we were hopeful too and glad

that our long journey now was done

and we might find these “holy men”

and learn more of our Saviour Lord.

Did we find the “black robes?”They find the
“black robes”
and are
hospitably
received

Yea and they took us in,

warmed us and fed us

and washed our torn feet.

They bound up our bruises

with sweet smelling ointment

and couched us in fine linen.but two die
from the
privations of
the journey

But two of our number

died of their hardships——

too late came their kindness,

too late, alas, to save them——

O sad were our hearts!

O solemn the funeral

in the great mighty temple

with its high lofty arches

like the trees of the forest

where their tops come together.and are
buried by the
monks with
pomp and
ceremony

O solemn the service

which the “black robes” provided

to do them great honour;

the singing and chanting,

the burning of candles

and the smoking of incense.

O sad were our hearts

but the “black robes” assured us

that the friends who had left us

the Saviour would take them

to feast at his banquet

and dwell in His lodges

for ever and ever

and so we were cheered

we two, the poor remnant

of those who had braved

this perilous pilgrimage.The monks
promise to
send
missionaries
and
Heeokstekin
and the other
survivor
depart for
home
jubilant

And then when we parted,

took farewell of the Fathers

they promised to follow,

to send from their number,

some who would teach us

to worship the Saviour

with words that were fitting

and songs that were holy.

And so we departed

in joy at their promise,

our hearts overflowing

with praise and thanksgiving.

And now the long, long journey home is doneHeeokstekin
returns alone
and the
people of the
tribe mourn
for the rest
of his party

and I am back again among my own,

a thousand weary leagues or more; but none

of all who left with me returned. Alone

at nightfall to my father’s lodge I crept

and entering silently, I told the tale

of all our wanderings while the listeners wept,

shrilly there rose on high the women’s wail.

“Weep not for them,” I said, “my comrades true,

for they have passed to hunting grounds of bliss

where summer ever stays nor will they rueHe seeks
to comfort
them

the life that they have lost, they will not miss

the joys of earth, the loved ones left behind

when in the richness of their faith’s reward

they taste its bounties with untroubled mind

in the great feasting lodge of Christ, their Lord.”

Now many moons have sped, they have not comeHeeokstekin
looks in vain
for the
promised
coming of
the monks

these holy men of God, these “black robe” visitants

to teach us more of Him whom we would serve

and we have looked in vain, they have not come,

scanning the river’s reaches eagerly

hoping for sight of them in their canoe,

hoping, yet fearing lest they may not come.

The summer waneth and our hearts are sad,

scanning the river’s reaches prayerfully,

wistfully wondering “Will they never come?”

Now has my span filled out a hundred years.

I, Sacajawea, of the Shoshone tribe,

a princess of the Royal blood,Sacajawea
looks back
on the days
of her youth

here in my teepee on our reservation,

calm and serene I sit awaiting death.

My sons, Baptiste and Bazil, still do me honour

and I have naught to crave for, naught to covet.

For I have known rich mercies in my time,

have seen high deeds and mingled with great men

and merited their thanks for help I rendered

and played my little part with credit. Aye!

strangely enough the mirror of my mind,

memory brings back my early years the clearest

when I was young and lithe and light of foot;

and with the brightness of the noonday sun

their happenings flash upon my inner vision.

Only these later days of failing vigour,

of dimming eye and toothless gums

and slower step and grosser body

have suffered the twilight haze

men call forgetfulness.

I can recall as though ’t were yesterday

how happy was my childhood and how free,

the sunny days of merry play and laughter.

I had two maiden friends of my own age——

but fifteen summers had gone o’er our heads——

and of each other we were passing fond.

There were my parents too and elder sister——

my brother Cameah-wait five years my senior——

to cherish me and all were kind and dear.

“Hunting was good and we were happy.

 The young braves proud to show their prowess,

 yet sought to hide it ’neath a show of calm;”

Those days were not to last.

That summer we went hunting far from homeShe tells of a
hunting trip

near the Great Falls of the Missouri river ——

the men allowed us maids to go along

for we could help them with the game they killed.

We were right keen to join the party.

At first, all things went well.

Hunting was good and we were happy.

The young braves proud to show their prowess,

yet sought to hide it ’neath a show of calm;

but we knew how they felt. We knew their eyes

were not unmindful of our presence;

and when the chase was o’er and we returned

there might be hunting of another sort

for these young warriors so strong and brave;

and we would be the not unwilling quarry

for we were nubile now.

Then when alone we maids were wont to chatter

and twit each other with a playful banter

and single out whose eyes had looked at whom;

but there was naught of spite in these our jests

nor jealousies to mar our happy friendship

and all the future seemed so bright with promise;

and then the Minnetares set upon us!

Ah that was long ago,

but still the horror of that hour,

the terror of that night

remain as if ’twere yesterday!

the war whoops of our foes,

the death cries of the slain,

defeat and utter rout

and these young braves, my friends

cut down before my eyes!

myself and my two matesin which she
and her
friends were
taken
prisoner
by the
Minnetares

each seized in the fierce grip

of a Minnetare; thrown across his horse

and carried helpless through the night

knowing a bitterness far worse than death.

Then in the morning with the dawn’s chill light

we were delivered at the old Chief’s lodge,

each tossed like bale of blankets to his womenand carried
to the lodge
of their Chief

to be his slaves and do their bidding,

suffering blows and beatings at their will.

Oh these dread days of horror and suspense!

the numbing fear of what might be our fate,

the furtive, sly regard of the young men,

the uncertainty, the hopelessness!

Only we were together, we three maids

and that was cause for thankfulness indeed.

Then one dark night there came the chance to flee.

One of us was too fast asleep to seize it——

the other made clear away but I——I would not,

I could not leave my comrade to her fate,

and, so I let it pass and stayed behind,

my mind o’erwhelmed with misery and despair.

The Great Spirit willed it otherwise.

Sacajawea
tells how
Charbonneau
comes to the
villageIn the midst of these my woes

a paleface came one day

to visit in the lodges of my foes

and he set up his tent to stay

among us. Charbonneau, his name

and from a bleak land, icy and cold,

French Canada away in the North he came.

As a child I had often been told

of a race in the world such as he.

True his face was as brown as the brackens in spring

but his body where covered was white as could be

’neath his raiment. With joy he would laugh and would sing

not a bit like us Indians——not stolid and stiff.and
frequently
visits the
Chief to
gamble
with him

Quite often he came to the lodge for a while

to gamble and smoke; and to us just as if

we were friends there was always a nod and a smile

even though we were slaves, not the looks harsh and hateful

that we had from our captors as though we were curs

to be kicked. Do you wonder that we should be grateful

for these crumbs of kindness? We learned it was furs

that the white man was seeking. T’was trinkets and knives

that he staked with the Chief. One night as they played,

Charbonneau always winning, the Chief with his wives

all around him, was sulky, while I and the maid,

my mate in mishap, lay there brooding alone,

the stranger cried loudly, “My winnings I’ll stake

against your two slaves of the tribe of Shoshone.”

The Chief quick assented the wager to make.

Our suspense was not long.

The pale face laughed loud,He wins
Sacajawea
and her mate
in a wager

trilled the snatch of a song——

the Chief’s brow was a-cloud——

and each rose in his place,

the guest grasping his furs

in a greedy embrace,

heeding naught the demurs

of the squaws gathered round

and he strode to where we lay,

threw them down upon the ground.

“There,” he cried, “we must away.”

“You are mine now, pack your load.

Henceforth you shall my burdens carry.

Follow me,” and off he strode;

and we did not dare to tarry

for the old Chief waved assent,

looking crestfallen and sad;

fierce his squaws, as thus we went

muttered and fumed; and we were glad,

when we’d passed the portals through,

Charbonneau should hasten faster

from the scene; and happy too

that we had another master.

Ere the dawn began to break

we were paddling down the river.

Half asleep and half awake,

I felt the ripples throbbing quiver.

Soft their voices seemed to speak

bidding me to banish sorrow

while whispering night winds fanned my cheek

and counseled courage for the morrow.

                              “How joyful

to think once more that I might see my loved ones!

might view again the dear scenes of my childhood

bearing the little Ba’tiste on my shoulders.”

We settled in a village of the MandansSacajawea
tells how
they settle in
a village of
the Mandans
and she bears
a son to
Charbonneau

and there I bore a son to Charbonneau;

and I was one of his three wives,

my mate another and we lived in peace;

for he was kind to me after his fashion

and struck me only rarely and without malice.

Soon, following the time my boy was born,

there came to spend the winter near our village

a band of white men and they built a fort,

thirty or more of them but one was black——

never had such a sight been seen before.

His skin was like the raven’s wing in hue,

his hair so thick and curly and our people

came from all parts to look at him.

The leaders of the band were Captain Lewis

and Captain Clark and it was by command

of one, a Great White Chief called Jefferson

that they had set out on a long, long traverse

to cross the chain of mountains to the westward

and then to follow down that mighty river

that wise men tell us joins the great, blue water

far, far away. Soon when the sap was flowing

off they would go. They said they hoped my people

would give them guides to pass the Great Divide

and help them take their goods across the mountains——

for, as they knew, our tribe had wealth of horses.

So when these leaders learned I was a Shoshone——

my husband told them——and I knew the language

and also was acquainted with the countryShe and her
husband
join an
expedition as
interpreters

they straightway hired us both to travel with them

as their interpreters and guides. How joyful

to think once more that I might see my loved ones!

might view again the dear scenes of my childhood

bearing the little Ba’tiste on my shoulders.

The party
leave
by canoeWe left the Mandan villages in canoes

up the Missouri——past the Yellowstone.

Once the pirogue we sailed in was upset

a sudden squall o’ertook us and my man

who had the helm, by fear became confused,

“the world’s worst waterman” our leader called him,

and all the precious gear fell in the water;

but by good fortune I just fished it back

and Captain Clark was thankful for it seemed

without that gear our pains were all for naught

and all their journey would have been undone.Sacajawea
falls sick

Soon after I fell sick, knew weary days

of heaviness and pain nigh unto death.

I lay and languished, oft of wit bereft

thinking myself at home a child once more

carefree at play around my father’s lodge.She is tended
by Captain
Clark and
recovers
under his care

Then every day came Captain Clark to tend me

and I was conscious of his ministering hand

and sensed the gift of healing in its touch.

O he was kind and gentle and his care,

restored me to my wonted health again.

The
expedition
reaches the
Great Falls
and
encounters
storms of
rain and hailAnd when we reached the Great Falls of the river

we needs must make a mighty portage round them

and there was much delay. Then too the weather

was cold and wet and windy; there were hailstones

as big as eagles’ eggs that beat upon us

bruising the flesh and falling thick and heavy

so even strong men sometimes lost their footing

felled by their furious force. One day we went,Sacajawea
goes ahead
with a
small party

the black man and my husband and myself

with Captain Clark ahead of our main party ——

the Falls were only half a mile away——

when suddenly a storm came down upon us.

But ere it broke our leader made us hasteThey take
shelter from
a rainstorm
in a ravine
and are
nearly swept
away in a
sudden flood

to seek for shelter in a deep ravine

under a sloping shelf that served as roof

to shield us from the torrent of the rain

and here we stayed an hour or so and watched

in fearful fascination while it fell——

ourselves immune from danger as we thought.

But the waters above us had gathered

and in a great cataract swept

with scarce a moment of warning

down with devastating force

through the cleft where we waited

as though intent with devilish rage

to dash us to destruction.

And I with my baby as burden

must have been borne before itShe and her
child are
saved by
Captain Clark

had not Captain Clark come to my succour

and, bracing his body behind me,

pushed me up out of all danger,

safe from the swift, swirling waters,——

at the risk of his own life he did it——

and Sacajawea was grateful.

So from that time as we travelled

my gratitude grew to devotion

and I made it my loyal endeavour

to help with his plans for safe passage——

not alone by the help of my people——

but in all the long journey beyond them

down the River That Flows to the Westward.

They pass
into country
which
Sacajawea
recognizesMore than three moons had passed and then at last

I saw familiar hills upon the skyline

and recognized the country of my people

and three days after that we reached the place

where the great river that had been our course

forks in three parts. Here at this well-marked spotCaptain Lewis
with three
others goes
on ahead

one of the leaders, Lewis, went ahead

with three to bear him company, the rest

would follow slowly up. We learned in time

the stirring story of their great adventure.

How they had climbed across the Great Divide

finding the Lemhi Pass that let them throughand makes
contact
with the
Shoshones

and then they met a squaw of my own folk,

who, won by gifts and words of soft persuasion,

guided them to our camp. Here they were met

with smiling welcome from the brave young Chiefwho welcome
his party
warmly

and all his band, who lovingly embraced them

with warmth and fervour. So then Captain Lewis

requested aid from them in men and horses

to bring the others of his party through

up from the place where he had planned to meet them,

there at the two forks of the Beaverhead.The Chief
agrees to go
back with
Captain Lewis
and assist
the rest of
the party, but
becomes
suspicious
when they
are not at the
rendezvous

To this the Chief with eagerness agreed

and he and forty braves set out at once

and all went well; but at the rendezvous

we had not yet arrived. Then ugly gleams,

distrust and doubt becloud the warriors’ eyes.

They feared these white men had it in their minds

to lure them to an ambush by their foes,

the dreaded Minnetares; and accused them

their new-found friends, of this base treachery.

Thus for a space it seemed that all were lost,

the leader and his men might suffer death;

but not for long. Lewis with dauntless nerve

and wit resourceful, made a daring throw,

confiding in the good faith of his host,

handed his gun to him and straightway bade

his men do likewise so the Chief might see

there was no crooked purpose in their mind.

He then proposed that two men be sent on,

one of their own and one of his, as scouts

to meet our party. This was forthwith doneThe two
parties come
together

and so as we came up we met the two

and shortly afterwards with all the rest.

That was a happy moment then for me

when the two bands were joined in one at last;

and I was blithe to recognize my peopleand
Sacajawea
recognizes
the Chief
as her
brother

and in the Chief himself to find my brother,

my dear and loving brother Cameah-wait

and we embraced with joy and happy tears.

That was long years ago. I shall not tell

the many happenings of our later progress,

how the supplies were carried with much care

across the Great Divide upon our horses

and also the bowed shoulders of our women;

and how through stress of strenuous toil and peril

our party travelled westward to the ocean——

“The Lake of Stinking Water” our folk name it,

through dangerous rapids, down the Great Broad River

and how I saw a whale, a wondrous monster,Sacajawea
recalls with
satisfaction
that she had
been able
to aid
Captains
Lewis and
Clark in their
enterprise

and all that followed, no I shall not tell it.

But it is sweet to think on now I’m old

how these heroic leaders, great men both,

kindly and brave and just, above reproach,

gave me their loyal friendship, how they told me,

but for my aid their enterprise had failed.

Here my teepee in our reservation

I view the past and think upon these things.

“The Great White Eagle,” the Indians called him

at Fort Vancouver where he held his sway,

for ere he reached his prime his locks were grey;

right kingly too he was in word and deed,

so both by outward port and inward meed,

they classed him with the King of Birds to pay

their highest tribute in the name. For they

found him their stay in every time of need;

but he was also firm though he was kind.

He kept his word with them for good or ill,

was prompt to punish if they gave him cause;

and often when they planned to break his laws,

some helpless settler folk to raid and kill,

counsel from him would bring a saner mind.

“through stress of strenuous toil and peril

 our party travelled westward to the ocean . . .”

I strolled on a bleak afternoon in winter nigh to sundownDoctor
McLoughlin
views with
sadness the
canoes of the
first settlers
on the river
in 1843

on the beach in front of the Fort and my heart was heavy and mournful.

I felt the old days so spacious of splendid isolation,

would soon be gone forever. The future seemed dark and forboding.

 

I loitered there on the beach and looked out over the river

to see with a sense of dismay, dotted here and there on its surface

from the far East arriving, the first canoes of the settlers,

the vanguard of “Forty-three” with a round eight hundred to follow.

 

Late, too late in the year they had come to this land of promise,

and dearly must pay for their folly, dearly in hunger and hardship.

Food must be found till the Spring to save them from death by starvation;

none but myself could supply it, none else could furnish them succour.

 

There were the Indians too——these were a perilous problem——

They looked askance at those strangers, doubted their friendly feelings,

feared they would take their land and drive off the game from the forests——

of late I had noticed an air of wildness and strain in their bearing!

 

He sees a
group of
Indians on
the river
bankNow as I paused in my stride I marked between me and the river,

ten or twelve in a group and they saw me coming towards them.

Indians they were whom I knew and I feared they were plotting some mischief;

one of them called to the others so loud he must know I would hear him.

 

He overhears
one cry out
that the
white men
should be
killed and
angrily
reproves him“It is good for us that we kill those ‘Bostons’^[7] who come here to rob us.”

I knew that he said it to sound me. How would I look on such action?

So I rushed on him then in a rage with my cane uplifted and threatening;

“Who is this dog” I cried, “who would talk of killing the Bostons?”

 

“I did not mean any harm,” cried the fellow quailing before me,

“but that is what all the Indians up at the Dalles are saying.”

“Then the Dalles Indians are dogs to say such a thing,” I shouted

“and you are a dog yourself who would dare in my hearing repeat it!”

 

He tells the
means he took
to prevent
the Indians
from killing
the settlersForthwith I turned on my heel and I knew that the others had heard me.

Now they would feel that the settlers were under my Company’s aegis

and I surely would punish severely any who sought to kill them.

In the past I had given them proofs that my justice was prompt and potent.

 

Then I sent to the Dalles two boats well stored with provisions.

When the later settlers arrived my men would be there to meet them;

and to sell to those who could buy or to give to such as had nothing;

thus all the Indians would know the strangers had me for their ally.

 

This was the action I took and thus by such means was averted

a horrible Indian outbreak, and murder of many settlers,

and perchance our own death too, the destruction of Fort Vancouver,

and a war between us and the States——a terrible culmination.

 

and defends
his policy
towards themAnd what of the body I serve, the Honourable Hudson’s Bay Company?

Had I let the settlers be slain or perish of cold and hunger,

would that have made lustrous our name? or rather sunk us in sorrow,

everyone from the Governor down, ignominy and shame for our portion?

 

and also with
regard to the
missionariesAs for the men of God, the missionaries to the Indians,

who came to teach them the truth, the truth about God and salvation,

a task that by rights was our own which we had but poorly attempted,

could I do less for them than to give them the handclasp of welcome?

 

I dare not drive them away——I had neither the right nor the power——

only humanity’s law; that was the mandate I followed.

Courteous and kind to them all I rendered such aid as was urgent.

Did that injure my Company’s cause? nay, rather it made for its credit.

 

Starving, desperate men are a menace to any country.

Hunger will force them to steal! the law of the jungle they follow!

So if I saved them from that was it not to the Company’s profit?

Six thousand miles away, what can they know of my problems?

 

And of all those goods I have given the half may never be paid for,

this to my personal loss and not at the Company’s hazard.

Surely my conscience is clear. In their need I have clothed the naked,

I have furnished the hungry with food; ’tis the sole vindication I offer.

“ ‘The Good Old Doctor,’ the settlers called him,

 for none had ever asked his aid in vain.”

“The Good Old Doctor,” the settlers called him,

for none had ever asked his aid in vain.

To clothe the naked and to entertain

the stranger guest, this was his joy and pride;

and thus they sought the Fort from far and wide.

Such kindness made the Governors complain——

they did not want these settlers to remain

to till the land. So, often would they chide

but from this policy he would not bend.

He could not let his fellow creatures die,

there in the wilds where none could aid but him.

So when from London came the fiat grim,

‘no aid to settlers,’ curt was his reply,

‘this brings my service with you to an end.’

“Cheer up, my friends, in two hours we’ll be there

at Fort Vancouver; all your trials are pastJoseph Hess
speaks words
of cheer to a
group of
settlers on
their way to
Fort
Vancouver
in 1844

once you set foot within its strong stockade

and you may sleep secure full fed and warm

when the good Doctor takes you ’neath his wing.”

So spoke out Joseph Hess in jovial tones.

He for the Company was in command

of this our crowded craft which it had lent

to bring us from the Dalles to Fort Vancouver.

His cheery words at first brought no response

until that pessimist Pete Hunt replied,

Kentuckian he of pioneering stock,

a proper man for all his grumbling ways,

had shown himself most helpful on the trail;

“Aye, for the killing he’ll be fattening us;

belike we’ll never see the Spring again.but one of
them foresees
a sad fate
ahead of
them

He’ll fling us out ere long to freeze and starve

or fall beneath the Indians’ tomahawks;

and he’ll be joyful to be rid of us.

His Company does not want us settlers here

to till the land and drive away the game.

’Tis furs, not farms, it wants.” He rolled his quid

and spat across the gunwale in disgust.He is
reproved
by the wife
of the
narrator

“Fie, fie, for shame!” my missus took him up,

“have you no faith in God that you speak thus?

It’s true we have no food or money left;

our clothes are ragged and the cold is keen

but He will send us help to see us through

if we but trust in Him. Winter will pass

and we can start our farming in the Spring.”

Pete looked at her with pity in his gaze;

“More like we will be pushing up the grass——

there ain’t no daisies growin’ here I guess——

and these here kids o’ yours, they will be slaves

to them there redskins fetchin’ wood and water

an’ damned for this life and the next to come.

I wish that I at least had had the sense

to stay content at home in ‘ole Kaintuk’;

we never know our luck till it is gone.”

My missus’ cheery face grew grave. Its smile

died and her deep blue eyes were dark with pain.

I saw her arm close tight round little Jim,

who sat upon her knee, as if to shield

the youngster from such fate as Pete foretoldThe latter
describes the
feelings of
the party

and my own heart was weighted down with dread.

The others round about——their faces too

reflected each thoughts that were far from gay.

Empty our stomachs all and lack of food

had left us faint, our minds fit prey to fear

and for the time we were a craven crew,

a score of grownups, five of us were women

and there were children four. Mournful the scene.

The rain had fallen relentlessly all day.and the
desolateness
of the scene

Leaden in hue and sinister the sky,

grim and forbidding was the river’s face.

Forests of oak and pine trees lined its banks

on either side with sad monotony

depressing to our souls. The voyageurs

paddled with steady stroke and easy grace

urging the laden bateau down the stream,

now roused to roughness by the Western wind

that icily chill cut through our ill clad limbs

cramped with long sitting on these weary boards,

damp from the dismal, never-ceasing rain.

We were too sad and miserable to talk.

As for Joe Hess he merely shrugged and smiled

but I could hear him softly to himself:

“Oh well, poor devils, you will soon be there;

and you will see if what I say is true

when once you’re lodged beneath the Doctor’s roof

to taste his generous hospitality.”The settlers
land at Fort
Vancouver
(1844)

Joe Hess had promised true, within two hours

we landed at the Fort; darkness had fallen.

From the log cabins for the men that lined

the river banks there shined forth lightsome gleams

of cheerful habitation. Those we passed

with staggering steps, our limbs all stiff and numb,

through the big gate within the high stockade

its timbered ramparts looming tall and dark

against the sky, to the great lighted Hall.

It stood amid a group of lesser buildings,

grand and imposing to our weary eyes

subject so long to scenes of desolation.and are
graciously
received by
Doctor
McLoughlin

There on its threshold framed against the light

a massive figure stood to bid us welcome,

gracious and dignified with kindly greeting

and friendly grasp of hand to all of us

as one by one we passed into the room

glowing with warmth and friendliness within.

Deft hands removed our cloaks and boots; and all

the ravages of travel were repaired

by ministrant attendants; and the children

were straightway fed, undressed and put to bed.

Then loud and clear the big bell rang for dinner.The Narrator
describes
the scene
at dinner

To the great dining chamber we were led

where stood the Factor at the table’s end——

full twenty feet in length it was and broad ——

ringed round by gentlemen, a goodly group,

chief-traders, traders, clerks and various guests,

to each of whom he quickly gave direction

where he should sit and so to each of us

until the varied company was seated

and everyone according to his rank.

Then in sonorous tones a grace was asked

with reverent air in no perfunctory fashion

by the good Doctor. With his deep-set eyes

and striking features crowned with hoary locks,

and handsome dress he made a noble figure,

like some great lord of ancient feudal days

sitting among his liegemen. Now the viands

were quickly served, roast beef and suckling pig,

mutton and ham and salmon from the river

with various vegetables, wheaten bread

and drink to wash it down. The dinner set

of delicate queen’s ware and the glittering glass,

decanters filled with different coloured wines

and gleaming silver made the table rich

to satisfy the eye. The meal progressed,

course after course. The talk both grave and gay

was rich in story and well spiced with wit

and often merry laughter filled the room,

yet all was with decorum though the wine

was freely quaffed except the host himself

imbibed it scarce at all. His kindly eye

surveyed his guests and spoke the word required

to make the diffident stranger feel at ease.

Then when the meal was over he arose

and said to us: “You good folk from the East

kindly attend me to my office now

that we may take wise counsel for your case,

consider duly your precarious plight

and do our best to mend it.” So we passed

into an ante-chamber bare and strait,

his working quarters. Standing by his desk

he made us form a circle round the room

and then addressed us: “My good friends and neighbours

as you are soon to be, I bid you welcome,

although your coming gives me grave concern,

arriving as you do late in the year

with no provisions for your sustenance

and scant equipment to start operations

upon your farms when Spring comes round again.

Last year I suffered sore embarrassment

with full eight hundred of you on my hands

(this year you number half as many more)

and those I furnished all with food and clothing

and seed to sow their lands preventing famine

that must have followed such an immigration

as has poured in upon us like a flood.

I fear there will be serious suffering

ere I can bring you all down from the Dalles

and see you to your final destination;where he
enquires of
their needs

but I shall do my best. Tell me your names,

each one in turn that I may take them down?

how many in your family and your wants?

and I must needs supply them. These most pressing,and promises
to supply
them

here at the Fort we shall make shift to furnish.

I now conduct a store at Oregon City,

opened for use of settlers such as you,

and I shall see you get your outfit there.”

Then from our number several cried at once,

nigh moved to tears in accents of distress:

“Doctor, we have no money left at all!

How can we take your goods? We cannot pay

and know not how or when we e’er may do so!”

He only waved a deprecating hand:

“Tut, tut,” he said, “I cannot let you starve.

We are all brothers here under Christ’s care.

My friends and neighbours too now and as such

I durst not see you suffer.” One by one

we filed before him and he took it down,

our names and all our needs advising each

with loving interest patient and kind.

That night we slept secure beneath his roof

with hopes restored anew and minds at ease.

“The Father of Oregon,” posterity calls him

and brighter grows his memory year by year.

Succeeding generations will revere

this man who dared to rank his Company’s rule

second to that of Christ, became a fool

for his own interest. Favour nor fear

perforce could move him; and his loved career

of princely power rather than be the tool

of selfish aims, he laid it quietly down

facing with fortitude fortune’s decline;

saw friends grow cold; and felt the bitter sting

of base ingratitude. The Eagle’s wing

’tis true, was clipped; his spirit did not repine.

History accords him now a rich renown.

Old age is upon me,

aye and poverty with itDoctor
McLoughlin
considers his
ill case and
sees death
near (1857)

with death not far distant,

I shall sleep with my sires.

My traducers have triumphed.

They have stolen my land,

heaped my name with contumely——

some of those whom I succoured,

the settlers saved from starving.

Aye and others have charged me,

demagogues without conscience,

for their own paltry purpose

of contriving the massacre

of hundreds of their citizens

at the hands of the red men.He defends
his record
against
false
accusations

They have dared to indict me

for blocking the settlement

of this Territory of Oregon

when the facts find most clearly

that I laboured my utmost

to foster and promote it.

Had those first, early settlers

been my brothers and my sisters

I could not have done more

to aid and advise them.

And for this mine own people,

British subjects have branded me

a traitor to my country

for following Christ’s teaching

and saving those settlers,

all American citizens,

men, women and children

from the torment of famine

and the tomahawks of the Indians.

I was the first one

to take a claim in the country.

What return do I receive

from those whom I succoured?

Why the loss of my land!

for while all may get theirs,

mine alone was reserved.

By wrong representation

and unfair legislation

I am robbed of my rights!and finds
consolation
in his
memories of
the past

But my days have been full

so I should not repine

for not all have been false;

still my friends are not few

and I live o’er again

the brave days in the past

of my prosperous prime——

none can take those away!

Lying lips may malignand the
thought that
time will
vindicate
his honour

my fair fame for a space

and its lustre may tarnish;

but the judgment of time,

free from bias or passion,

will restore its old brightness,

its dear honour once wonted,

when this body is clay

and my soul gone to God.

Mine is the maddening quest for gold,

mine the dream of wealth untold.

O’er the mountains wild and steep,

through the valleys dark and deep

in river bed and rushing stream

hunting aye the golden gleam,

still with never failing zest

see me follow on the quest.

 

Counting not the lands I’ve wandered,

recking not the years I’ve squandered,

though the search hath naught availed me,

though my faltering limbs have failed me,

still until my body perish

aye my heart its hope will cherish

yet to strike rich pay at last,

full reward for labours past.

 

And if despite her long beguiling

Dame Luck will ne’er be on me smiling,

if scant the gold that I shall find,

when, old and lame and sick and blind

at length the Great Divide I’ve crossed,

I shall not count my labour lost.

Lord, let me search for gold once more

there by the River’s shining shore.

Intrepid Walter Moberly had many a vicissitude

  exploring in the Rockies and through the Cariboo.

Right well he knew the dangers and he exercised solicitude

  as far as it was possible to obviate them too.

 

Walter
Moberly
had many
adventuresHe met with weird adventures, remarkable and numerous,

  far more than are vouchsafed to the ordinary chap;

and some were spiced with danger, some gay and others humorous

  but his spirit never faltered whatever the mishap.

 

He encountered savage grizzlies and the deadly rattlesnake

  and he backed bucking bronchos and rode them on the trail.

Wild Indians could not scare him nor “bad whites” his courage shake,

  the Sheriff served a writ on him and then he did not quail.

 

He had taken the first contract for the road to Cariboo.

  His men went off and left the work to join the search for gold.

The Government would not pay him the monies that were due

  and cancelled his road contract with loss to him untold.

 

He could have fled the country and left every obligation,

  but that was not his nature, although these were large and many;

and it took him eight long, scrimping years to win emancipation.

  He was able then to liquidate and paid them every penny.

 

but this
concerns an
encounter
with a pigTo go into that deeply here is not in my indenture.

  It were a striking subject, a theme inspiring, big;

but the aim of this slight ditty is to set out an adventure

  that befell this hardy pioneer pertaining to a pig.

 

Once when travelling down the Fraser in his work of exploration

  one evening tired and footsore he arrived at Chapman’s Bar.

He arrives at
Chapman’s
BarThere was none to bid him welcome but he asked no invitation

  to make himself at once at home for he had travelled far.

 

and after
diningIt was hot and he was thirsty but he found some handy food there

  and with flapjacks and with bacon he soon cooked himself a dinner;

and, washed down with fragrant coffee, he adjudged it very good fare

  for any old campaigner whether he were saint or sinner.

 

he lies down
to sleepThere was a new log building with no doors or windows in it

  where a stretcher made of gunny sacks invited him to sleep.

So he threw himself upon it and was “fast” in half a minute

  and knew no more till morning when the dawn began to peep.

 

In the
morning he
is awakened
by a pigThen to his waking consciousness there came a curious snorting

  and a grunting loud and dissonant just close beside his head.

So he opened wide his eyes in time to see a pig cavorting

  naively round the premises and nuzzling at his bed.

 

He throws
his boot at
the animalIn an instant he had raised himself annoyed by such intrusion

  and looked around for something to rap the porker’s snout.

Then he picked up his boot in the heat of his confusion

  and threw it at the grunting beast with hope to drive it out.

 

but to his
chagrin the
pig made
away with itIn this he was successful but, much to his astonishment,

  the pig “pinched” the missile and quickly made escape;

nor waited to listen to the traveller’s admonishment,

  who followed in his stockinged feet indignant at the rape.

 

“His pigship” proved the swifter and vanished in the thicket

  before poor Walter Moberly could catch him by the tail;

and sadly he soliloquized “Now that just wasn’t ‘cricket,’

  to steal my boot away from me when I must walk to Yale!”

 

So the
explorer had
to walk to
Yale with but
one boot’Twas a twenty-five mile journey without any road to follow

  and it proved a painful penance for his bruised and bleeding foot;

but by nightfall he espied with joy the town’s lights in the hollow

  where he sojourned to recuperate and bought another boot.

                         “With a train of goods

on horseback had they come to this raw, mining town

that with a mushroom growth had sprung to being.”

There came to Barkerville in Eighteen-sixty-two,

John A. Cameron and Sophia, his young wife,

from Summertown in Ontario through Victoria

to seek their fortunes. With a train of goods

on horseback had they come to this raw, mining town

that with a mushroom growth had sprung to beingHow John A.
Cameron
and his wife
went to the
Cariboo

out of the golden sands of Williams Creek.

The first stage of the journey was by boat,

Victoria to Yale and that was easy going.

From thence the goods were packed on mules

and the two Easterners rode beside them.

Bob Stevenson, their partner had gone on in Spring.

He had a trading business in the town——

and these had followed when the trail had dried,

leaving in June not to arrive till August.

These were the days before the Road was made.

The trail they had to use was full of perils,

precipitous-sided grades, rockslides and landslides,

cougar and grizzlie bears and poisonous rattlers,

wild beasts and hostile Indians, such dread hazards,

as to affright the gently-nurtured woman,

who chose to bear her husband company

into this land so different from her own,

so desolate and grim in all its grandeur

rather than let him travel forth alone.Their trading
business
proves
profitable

The trading partnership proved fortunate

for goods were at a premium and the two,

Cameron and his friend, thrived on their venture.

But there were richer gains below the ground

but they
abandon it to
take up
miningthan could be won by trade; and gold was all

the talk upon men’s tongues. We find them next

working the Cameron claim with four associates

while yet the summer sun burned hot above them.

September came and brought an early snowfall

and Cameron’s wife fell ill. October followed,

bleak and austere thirty degrees below

with furious driving winds that drove the coldCameron’s
wife falls
sick and dies

through every crack and crevice of the shack

that was the miner’s shelter and ere long

the stricken wife lay dying. Ere she passed

she made her husband vow to take her home,

home to her loved Ontario for her burial,Her husband
promises to
take her body
back to
Ontario

far from this unkind country that she hated

to one wherein her bones might rest in peace.

The sorrowing man made no complaint or murmur

but set his face to carry out her wish.

Naught could be done till Spring except they laid

her body in a coffin made of tin

and cased inside with wood and ere ’t was closed

they laid beneath her head a coloured shawl

that she had worn, a present from her sister,

to be her pillow all that weary way

that she must travel. Then behind the bier

a file of bearded miners followed slow

adown the village to an empty shack

where now they laid it, there to rest a space

until the time should come to bear it forth

to its far bourne. Meanwhile the little group,Cameron
and his
partners
strike gold

who owned the Cameron mine went working on.

Despite the iron hardness of the ground

and the keen, piercing torture of the cold

they dug on doggedly. December came

and they were down some twenty feet or more,

the stricken mourner working with the rest,

though now he took scant interest in the quest,

when they struck gold in plenty of great richness

such as exceeded all their fondest dreams.

January snows piled deep and high

and smallpox raged among the Indian tribes,Cameron
with the aid
of his
partner,
Stevenson,
takes his
wife’s body
to Victoria

more feared than all the perils of the trail

but Cameron was staunch and would not stay.

His promise urged him on to seek fulfilment

and so he started out with steadfast heart,

his partner, Stevenson accompanying him.

When it was found that gold would not avail

to tempt these hardy miners to the task,

to face disease and all the painful rigours

of such a hazardous trip, the faithful friend

rallied to meet the need. “John, I will go,”

he said; and that was all there was to that

and go he did. No need to tell it here,

the epic story of that arduous passage

but it was March, the Seventh when with the body

they reached Victoria and the following day,

after the undertaker of the town

had filled with alcohol the metal casket,

there was a second solemn funeral held.and then the
two return
to their
mine

Then the chief mourners took their journey back—

back to the mine where there was wealth to win—

and by the Fourth of April they were home.

Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars

that was the gold that Cameron took that yearAfter
amassing
wealth from
their mine
they take
Mrs.
Cameron’s
body to
New York

out of his mine—so it had been computed—

and when the autumn came he left Cariboo for the Coast

to finish his pact with the dead

and Stevenson his partner went with him.

So November saw them depart,

taking the body along

on a steamer sailing south,

San Francisco the first port of call,

and then down the Mexican coast

to the Isthmus of Panama,

that zone of withering heat.

Thence to New York they sailed—

these were days when travel was hard,

painful and tedious and slow—

and when they reached there at last

they thought that now all was well

and the worst of their journey was o’er

but still there was trouble in store

for the Customs would not let them pass.

This ponderous casket they brought—

it weighed nearly five hundred pounds—

they thought it must surely contain

something more than a pitiful corpse

and these miners escorting it there

had put forth an incredible tale.

So, this meant a tormenting delay

and the friends were in deepest distress;

but aid influential was found

and they swore affidavits a-plenty

so, at last, those in charge let them through

with the sorrowful burden they bore.and then to
Cornwall,
Ontario,
where they
bury her

And they brought it at length home at last

to Cornwall where she had been born,

the wife who had followed her man

so far and thus bravely to die

away in that lone Cariboo.

And Cameron buried her there

with the friends who had known her in youth

to walk in the funeral train

and see her laid safely away.

And the husband was glad that at last

he had kept his faith with the dead.

Now there you would say was the end

of a sad and a pitiful tale;

and the brave, little wife was at rest

to lie till the Judgment Day.

But rumour like a running flame

was busy now with Cameron’s name.

From lip to lip the story ran

about this strange, mysterious man:Ugly tales
are told
about
Cameron

the wife he made pretense to mourn

was not within this casket borne

from Western wilderness to lie

in Cornwall cemetery hard by

the home where she was born. ’T was said,

the woman was not even dead;

but she had met a harder fate

e’en at the hands of him her mate:

for driven by his thirst for gold,

this man his wife had actually sold

in slavery to an Indian chief—

it was a slander past belief

and yet the story would not down.

It blackened Cameron’s fair renown.

The more he scored the fateful lie,

the more his friends would pass him by

with head averted; if they spoke

’twas with constraint. The ordeal broke

the miner’s spirit; the iron nerve

by which through all he did not swerve

from keeping that grim promise sworn,

daring the hardships he had borne

and all the perils of the trail,

before this danger seemed to fail.

Here was a foe he could not face,

which seemed to lurk in every place

and his partner
advises
him what
he must do.where he might turn. So nigh distraught,

in his perplexity he sought

advice from his old partner, who

told him at once what he must do.

So at Cornwall in the midst of a throng

of relations and friends and of thoseIn order to
quiet the
calumny
Cameron
has his
wife’s body
exhumed

curious to see such a singular sight,

the coffin was raised from its grave

and an opening was made at the head

exposing the face of the dead.

“It’s Sophy,” the sister exclaimed,

“just as she looked in her life,

girlish and fragile and young.”

She spoke to the undertaker,

just a word; and he put in his hand

under the head of the corpse

and pulled forth a patterned shawl.

“It’s the one that I gave her the day

she was married,” the sister declared;

and she covered her face with her hands

and wept; while the people in line

passed by the body to view.and he is
vindicated

He, the husband stood bitterly by

with head bent and bared; but all those

who had cherished and carried the tale—

their heads were averted once more

but now they were lowered in shame.

The body was moved yet again

to Summertown where it was laid

to rest there until the last trump.

And still in that far land of gold

old timers will tell you the tale

of Cariboo Cameron’s task

and the way that he carried it through.

I am the last camel,

the last of the twenty-one

who came to CaribooThe last
camel
expresses
his feelings
about
Cariboo

in the year “sixty-two”

from far-off Manchuria.

What a country! what a people!

and what a road to travel on!

How we longed for the hot suns

and the soft sands of the desert!

How we hated our drivers!

speaking strange oaths,

wearing odd garments,

with no knowledge or skill

of how to load us or to ride us.

How we loathed and despised them!

O the meanness of the mules!

with mouths like crocodiles

and legs like battering rams,

swift to kick like the lightning;

and the horses as hateful

undersized and unkempt,

stubborn and vicious

would go frantic with fury,

try to unseat their riders

with most odd, rocking motions.

They had never seen the like of us

and were terrified at the sight of us,

sought to jump off the road

whenever we met with them.

And their owners swore loudly

and smote us with contumely

whose sires, the pride of Bactria,

were the flower of riding camels.

But we bore it in silence

with heads high despising them,

puny men of no poise,

grasping and garrulous,

fit subjects for ridicule.

We enjoyed their discomfiture

and looked on with derision

as their packmules stampeded

in terror at sight of us.

But my comrades are gone,

all dead now or scattered

and I live here alone,

on a ranch at Grande Prairie,

old and stiff-jointed,

from these terrible winters

at the home of my master,

lonely and loveless

except for his daughter,

who pets me and tends me.

Full gladly I kneel

to permit her to mount me,

and when proudly I bear her,He recalls
with sadness
happier
days

I dream with regret

of the days of my youth

when supple and swift

I swept o’er the desert

and breathed its warm wind

like rich balm in my nostrils.

But my days now are numbered.and knows
that his
doom is
sealed

Tomorrow I perish—

I heard them decree it—

for destroying their fences.

They thought to confine me

with frail barriers of pinewood

me, “the ship of the desert”,

but I put my head under

and tore them asunder.

Yea, I am the last one,

the last of the camels

that came to Cariboo

in the year “sixty-two”

and tomorrow I perish.

Much of the old simplicity of life has passed.

Speed and efficiency and all those fetishes

of modern civilization have entered in

to rob us of our restfulness and calm.

Science has multiplied our comforts

and medicine has lengthened out our span.

Distance has been abridged and now we know

about our neighbours since the air is vocal

to cast abroad their thoughts and aspirations,

their drama and their music and their songs.

War has intensified its horrors

and slavery has come to many lands

that not long since were free.

Tyrants have raged and fumed and worked their will

upon the peoples around about them.

No more the bane of unemployment

brings misery; for ’neath this new regime

there is made work for all.

But peace has now been won once more

and the buoyant spirit of youth still lives.

Truth, courage and honour are not yet dead

and will in time prevail. When we look back

upon these stirring stories of the past,

and see what common, simple men have done

under the plan of Providence Divine

to shape the destiny of this Northwest,

whether selfishly or otherwise, in faith and hope,

it steels us with fortitude to face the future.