Читать книгу The Young Nor'-Wester - James Macdonald Oxley - Страница 5

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‘God help us!’ cried Wentzel, who was the first to realise Archie’s danger, ‘the boy’s caught in the stampede;’ and losing all thought of shooting bison in his anxiety for his young friend, he slung his musket over his shoulders, and concentrated his energies upon the task of forcing his horse through the terrified herd in an attempt to get to Archie’s side.

A moment later the factor also became aware of his son’s critical position, and he in like manner paid no more attention to the hunt, but made strenuous efforts to reach the imperilled boy.

In truth the situation was a very serious one. The thousands of maddened bison were thundering down the valley at a terrific pace towards the pond, to whose miry depths far more of them would fall victims than to the hunters’ bullets. The pond was hardly half a mile distant, and unless Archie were extricated from their midst before they reached it, the chances were that he would share their fate.

Both Wentzel and Mr. M’Kenzie saw this clearly, and urging their horses to the utmost, they fought their way from different directions through the surging rabble of beasts. Fortunately they were mounted upon very powerful animals, to whom a buffalo hunt was no novel experience, and, tremendous as the task seemed, did succeed in making progress towards their goal. At length, almost at the same moment, they gained their point. They came up on either side of Archie, and each grasping one rein of his horse’s bridle, they drew close together until the three horses were touching. Then came the struggle for escape. The bison, crazed with terror, their noses almost touching the ground as they lumbered furiously forward, pressed them on every side. To halt was out of the question. The utmost that could be done was to slacken speed somewhat, and thus gradually work back to the rear of the stampede. Happily they were not very deep in the herd, and when the vanguard was brought to a standstill by the deep mud of the pond’s margin, the whole mass began to slow up, until finally it was possible for the three riders, whose united strength had enabled them to hold their own much better than if they had been separate, to edge round and force their way out into freedom, just in time to save themselves from being carried by the mob into the mire, where hundreds of unfortunate creatures were already engulfed.

Archie’s face was as white as a sheet, and his eyes had a strange, half-dazed expression in them as he looked at his father without uttering a word.

‘Thank God, laddie, for a very narrow escape!’ exclaimed the factor in a reverent, grateful tone; and then, turning to the Norwegian, ‘And thank you, Wentzel, for your timely aid. I doubt much if I could have saved the boy alone.’

Wentzel blushed, and murmured something about its being nothing, he was only too glad to be of any service. Then Archie seemed to come to himself, and laying his hand upon his father’s knee, said in such a pleading way, ‘Was I very much to blame, father? I really could not help it. Spot was frightened by the guns, and I could not hold him.’

Evidently he dreaded his father’s saying something like this: ‘There now, Archie, it is just as I told you. You’re not fit to take part in a hunt yet, you see.’

But if any such idea was in Mr. M’Kenzie’s mind, he took good care not to express it. On the contrary, he answered the boy’s anxious question by asking another, which completely turned the current of his thoughts—

‘Why, laddie, what’s become of your gun?’

Archie instinctively threw his hand to his shoulder, but no gun was there. Without doubt he had dropped it.

‘Let it drop, eh?’ said the factor, smiling. ‘Well, it’ll need a new lock, stock, and barrel by this time, if I’m not mistaken. Did you fire it off before you let it go?’

‘Yes, indeed, father,’ replied Archie promptly, much relieved at this turn in the conversation. ‘I shot a young bison right behind the shoulder, just where you told me to.’

‘Oh, ho! I’m glad to hear that,’ said the factor. ‘Suppose now we go back a bit, and see if there is anything left of the gun.’

They accordingly rode slowly back over the turf, torn up by thousands of furious hoofs, and had not gone far before Archie exclaimed joyfully—

‘There he is; I know him by that queer tuft of hair on his hump. That’s the fellow I shot.’

Lying on the ground at their feet was a splendid young bison, who had evidently died hard.

‘So that’s your prize, Archie?’ said Mr. M’Kenzie. ‘Let’s see if we can find your bullet. On which side did you shoot him?’

‘On his right side, father,’ answered Archie.

The bison was lying on his left side.

The factor scanned him carefully.

‘Right you are, laddie,’ he cried, touching with his finger a spot just behind the shoulder. ‘Here’s your mark. Your pop-gun has been good for something after all. This is as fine a piece of meat as we shall get to-day.’

While they were talking the Norwegian had gone on, keeping a sharp lookout upon the ground, and presently he called out—

‘Hurrah! I’ve got it, and I don’t think it’s injured at all.’ Jumping to the ground, he picked up the gun, and turned it over in his hand.

‘No,’ he declared, ‘not injured a bit, only some slight dents and scratches.’ And he handed it to Archie.

Greatly relieved, Archie took his gun, and patting it tenderly, said to it—

‘You’re not broken, are you? You’ll kill many a buffalo for me yet—see if you don’t.’

In the meantime the work of death had been going on fast and furious, until the factor, unwilling that there should be needless slaughter, shouted to the men to stop, an order which, being pretty well tired out, they were not loth to obey. On reckoning up the results of the hunt, they were found to be entirely satisfactory. Over one hundred bison had been killed, the majority being fat, tender young animals that would make the best of pemmican; and it now remained to cut their meat up into long strips and dry these in the sun before returning to the fort.

This work occupied several days, during which Archie, who had no relish for it, amused himself exploring the country round about, riding upon Spot and accompanied by a pack of dogs that were always getting very much excited over something, but in the end not accomplishing much. The prairie dogs afforded him some fine practice in shooting, so that he did not find the hours hang heavily upon his hands.

The homeward journey was a sort of triumphal progress, everybody feeling that the expedition had covered itself with glory, and none being better pleased than Archie himself, for he considered that he had fairly won his place among the men, and that there would no longer be any question about his accompanying his father whenever he wanted to do so.

On his return to the fort the factor was met by Mr. Stewart, who had been left in charge, with a communication that caused him to look very grave, and to make clear the import of which it will be necessary to take a little dip into history.

The North-West Fur Company did not by any means have the field to itself in carrying on its business. It was not, indeed, the first in that field. More than a century before there was any such organisation, the ‘Honourable Company of Merchant Adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay,’ or, as it was called for short, ‘The Hudson’s Bay Company,’ had been granted by royal charter very extensive and indefinite rights and privileges in the great lone land of the North-West. Until late in the eighteenth century this Company had been content with the business that came to the shores of the bay, many of their Indian customers travelling hundreds of miles and enduring great privation in order to exchange their beaver, bear, and mink skins for guns, beads, blankets, kettles, hatchets, knives, and other articles with which the Company alone could supply them.

But long before this the gay, daring, reckless coureurs des bois of Canada, and in their wake the shrewd, enterprising merchants of Montreal, had been pushing farther and farther into the West by way of the Great Lakes, and the Ouinipique, Assiniboine, and Saskatchewan River routes, competing eagerly in the quest for furs, and resorting to every expedient, proper and improper, to get the better of the Indians and of one another; with the result that in a little while they brought both themselves and the trade to the verge of ruin. In this extremity some of the shrewdest of the Scotchmen saw their opportunity, and, suggesting combination instead of competition, succeeded with little difficulty in uniting the clashing interests into one body which should work harmoniously for the benefit of all. Thus came into being the great North-West Fur Company, which at once set to work with immense energy and exceeding skill to make vast fortunes out of the peltry traffic. Forts and posts were established north, south, and west from Red River, and no effort was spared to secure every skin that was to be had.

Of course this could not go on very long without infringing upon the chartered privileges of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and this corporation, awaking from its long sleep, manifested little less energy and enterprise in looking after its rights. Wherever the Nor’-Westers established a post or built a fort, the Hudson Bays promptly put another near by; and when the latter happened to be first on the spot, the former returned the compliment. Thus, not half a mile distant from Fort Chipewyan stood Fort Wedderburne, the Hudson Bay establishment, a much less extensive affair, but still sufficient to show that the older Company had no idea of leaving its rival unwatched and unopposed.

For some time the rivalry between the two companies had been of quite a friendly nature. The residents were, as a rule, upon excellent terms, and frequently enjoyed one another’s hospitality in the shape of balls and dinners during the long, dreary winters. But of late years a different spirit had begun to show itself. In the Red River district, where the competition was keenest, unfortunate collisions in which blood was shed had occurred, and a feeling of uneasiness and of mutual suspicion was taking the place of the old cordiality and good-fellowship.

The worst feature of this new order of things was that the rivals sought by every device to alienate the Indians from each other, bidding for their exclusive friendship by extravagant presents, and—to their shame be it said—by lavish outlay of the poor red man’s deadliest curse, the firewater for which he would at any time barter his very soul.

Against both these evils Mr. M’Kenzie had, until this summer, been able to make a successful stand. So much was he respected and admired at Fort Wedderburne, that no chill had fallen upon the pleasant relations between the two establishments; and so profound was the influence his splendid courage and unwavering fair dealing had won for him among the Indians, that not one of those whom he could rightly regard as his parishioners had need to be bribed by firewater to remain faithful to him.

But early in the season the factor at Fort Wedderburne had been recalled, and his place filled by one who brought with him from Red River feelings of intense animosity against the Nor’-Westers and a burning ambition to win renown by doing them all the harm he possibly could. Mr. M’Kenzie hit the mark when he surmised that the change was no accident, but only the first steps in a carefully prepared policy, the object of which was the downfall of Fort Chipewyan.

In many respects the Hudson Bays could hardly have chosen a better agent for their purpose than Miles M’Dougal. He had been in their employ from his teens, and to him the Company meant everything. For it he lived and moved and had his being. No strategy was too mean, no use of force too brutal, provided the Company profited. The end justified the means, and not a qualm of conscience had he, so long as he succeeded. He was very different in appearance from Mr. M’Kenzie, being of middle stature and very thick-set, with absurdly bowed legs and huge flat feet. His head was square, and seemed almost to rest upon his broad shoulders, so short was his neck, and his face was no less ugly than his figure was ungraceful, yet the one spoke as plainly of craft and cruel determination as the other did of strength and tireless endurance. Altogether he was one who at first glance made you feel that it were far better to be his friend than his enemy, and best of all to be neither the one nor the other.

On his arrival at Fort Wedderburne, Mr. M’Kenzie had at once made overtures of friendship, but they were so ungraciously received that he did not repeat them, and with much regret realised that the two forts must soon become hostile camps instead of sociable neighbours. Not only so, but that henceforth he must maintain a sleepless vigilance if he would hold his own against this new influence, accounts of whose evil work in other districts had already reached Fort Chipewyan. In a fair, open contest he had nothing to fear. He had many advantages on his side. His men outnumbered M’Dougal’s two to one. His establishment was larger and better equipped. He had won the confidence and the love of the Indians by a thousand acts of kindness and long years of honest dealing. There was but one way in which M’Dougal could hope to supplant him, and that way Mr. M’Kenzie knew well enough his rival would not hesitate to adopt.

From the curse of firewater the factor of Fort Chipewyan had kept his skirts clear. He detested strong drink in every shape, and if at any time the alternative between using it in his trade and resigning his position had been presented to him, he would have resigned at once. His superiors fully understood this, and respecting his sturdy principles, made no attempt to interfere with their practice. No post sent in better returns than his, and that was all they were concerned about. But the new factor at Fort Wedderburne had not been long installed before the firewater argument was brought into play, and the news which met Mr. M’Kenzie on his return from the buffalo hunt, and which made him look so grave, was that a band of Chipewyans, whose coming with many packs of peltries he had expected, had been met by M’Dougal and his men a day’s journey from the fort, and plied with liquor until, forgetting all their obligations to Mr. M’Kenzie, to whom the furs were pledged for advances made, they had parted with them to their tempter, at a price far below their real worth, and were now well on their way home again, for they would not dare to come to the fort.

Mr. M’Kenzie would not cast a cloud upon the general rejoicing caused by the success of the hunt by letting it be seen how much he was disturbed.

‘M’Dougal’s outwitted us this time, Stewart; there’s no getting over that,’ he said, assuming a cheerful expression. ‘But never mind, it’ll be our turn next, if we only keep our eyes open. He’s taught us a lesson we mustn’t forget.’

That evening he called Wentzel into his room, and they had a long and earnest talk together.

‘There’s trouble brewing, I greatly fear, Wentzel,’ said the factor, making no pretence to hide from his right-hand man and trusty confidant the gravity of the situation. ‘We must try and meet guile with guile as long as we can; but so surely as I’m sitting here, it’ll come to fighting yet. The Hudson Bays claim that we’re nothing better than trespassers, you know, and some day, when they think they’re strong enough, they’ll order us out, and then—it will be a sair day for some of us.’ And a heavy sigh welled up from the big man’s chest, for his thoughts turned to his beloved wife and darling children, who would be sure to suffer most in the event of hostilities taking place.

There was a pause, during which both men smoked their pipes in silence, and then the Norwegian, taking his from his lips, held it before him, and, as though he were addressing it, said slowly—

‘Those are our furs they got from the Chipewyans. They’ve stolen them just as much as if they’d taken them from our storehouse. Aren’t you going to make them give them up?’

The factor’s eyes flashed angrily at this reminder of the scurvy trick M’Dougal had played upon him, and the temptation was strong to accept the challenge so quietly and yet so earnestly offered, and to spring to his feet with a vow that those furs should be in Fort Chipewyan storehouse ere another sun had set. But his Scotch sagacity stood him in good stead. He knew well enough that to begin in that way would be the height of folly, and putting a strong curb upon his feelings, he replied in the same measured tones in which Wentzel had spoken.

‘No, no, Wentzel, that would not do. We must keep off the evil day as long as we can. Don’t let our men hear you talking like that, but, instead, just give them a hint to have as little to do with the Fort Wedderburne folk as possible. M’Dougal will lose no chance to be ugly. Let him be the first to quarrel. We must try to have right as well as might on our side, and, besides, there ought to be letters soon from Fort William, and I want to wait and see what news they bring before taking Mr. M’Dougal in hand.’

The question was further discussed between the two men, with the result that Wentzel agreed that Mr. M’Kenzie’s way was the best. Accordingly, no effort was made to recover the furs, but the various employees were instructed to be on their guard; and matters went on as usual until, as fate would have it, Archie had an encounter with the factor of Fort Wedderburne that came very near causing the smouldering fires to burst out into open flame, and subsequently brought very disagreeable consequences upon himself.