Chapter 35
It was a massacre. Everything decent in people, everything that tied men to each other, was absent in the actions of those representing the North West Company. The scene out on the plains was one of true horror. Heads scalped, hearts torn out… so many actions of men who are not men, savage-like in deed, leaving bodies for the wolves and the blistering sun.
Uncle Willie is dead. There is no return for where he now is. I could sooth his anger, bring him back from the rage that was always there, bubbling just under the surface. I could always bring him back. I could always bring him back…
Some events cannot undo the damage they inflict on your heart, on your being. Calum might be young enough to forget, he might blot these days from his young memory, but the anger has made its way to Liam. Too young to yet feel defeated, the anger is just starting, learning how to take shape. How often in the future will I now have to bring him back?
The Metis have left, their blood lust and revenge satisfied for the destruction of Fort Gibraltar. There is nothing left in their absence but confusion, tears, hysteria, death: death of our dream for a new life, for a chance to build a new croft, for me to start a new family in this land as Mrs. George Cooper. If I am granted the chance to marry this man, it will be far away from here.
Everyone has helped to finally lay to rest the twenty dead men left by the savage North West Company. A bargain has been struck by Cuthbert Grant and those of us still alive: take leave of this place, and no more death will come. Soon we will vacate these lands, and the settlement dreams of Lord Selkirk will die with it.
A grave for William Fraser was hastily dug near the shadow of Fort Douglas. A crude looking cross of two simple sticks wrapped together with cloth is the only marker to remind this earth of the man who has been taken from it. Papa dug, and Mama, but all I could do was watch, watch and remember a man who was too angry to accept his fate, willing to lay down his life to save the people he loved the most.
“May God have mercy on his soul,” Papa muttered to himself as he stood over his brother’s grave. “He was brave until the end, and he deserved a better fate than to be taken from us so young. It looks like he will have to stay here while we move on for good.”
“His body will remain,” I softly responded, “But his spirit and fight will live on in us.”
“Aye,” Papa muttered in reply. “The family comes first. Maybe he was without wife and child, but even Willie knew how important the bond of blood is.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as I tried to rub the pain spreading from my temples.
“Far the hell away from here.”
On June 22nd we took our leave of Red River. Perhaps we should have done this much earlier. We boarded canoes that set off east towards the British colony of Upper Canada with only a few supplies and the clothes on our backs.
George is faring well with his injured leg. His wound was not as bad as I had first feared. He received only a glancing wound from a musket ball, and the bandage now on his leg is holding well. I see the lines of pain on his face as he pushes the oar through the water, but not a word of discomfort or complaint ever passes from his lips.
I seem to make a habit of turning to look at what I am leaving behind. Hopefully, I will have a future where I am not continually looking behind me to see what has been lost. I want a future where I can look forward, eager to see what the future might have in store: a future with a husband, children, a home, grandparents, and the memory of my courageous uncle. I turn around expecting sadness to overwhelm my heart, but I do not feel sadness. No, I feel relief. We were always unwelcome, yet we were too stubborn, too set in our ways, to see that the dream of a new croft in this land was impossible.
I turn around to the flowing river ahead, taking us away. I smile at the prospect of what the future might hold, and that a new Scotland can still be made in this great land across the ocean. I take up my oar and start to row in rhythm with the others. If we are finally going to begin to live here properly, we better get on with it...
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