CHAPTER TWO.
AN INDIAN RAID.
SCENE OF THE STORY--HISTORY OF ARCHIE AND HUGH--A JOURNEY ACROSS THEPRAIRIE--A VILLAGE BURNT BY THE INDIANS--UNCLE DONALD PURSUES THEBLACKFEET--ARRIVAL AT THE INDIAN CAMP.
But where did the scene just described occur? And who were the actors?
Take a map of the world, run your eye over the broad Atlantic, up themighty St. Lawrence, across the great lakes of Canada, then alongwell-nigh a thousand miles of prairie, until the Rocky Mountains arereached, beyond which lies British Columbia, a region of lakes, rivers,and streams, of lofty, rugged, and precipitous heights, the furthershores washed by the Pacific Ocean.
On the bank of one of the many affluents of its chief river--theFraser--Uncle Donald had established a location, called Clearwater, farremoved from the haunts of civilised man. In front of the house flowedthe ever-bright current (hence the name of the farm), on the oppositeside of which rose rugged pine-crowned heights; to the left were othersof similar altitude, a sparkling torrent running amid them into the mainstream. Directly behind, extending some way back, was a level prairie,interspersed with trees and bordered by a forest extending up the sidesof the variously shaped hills; while eastward, when lighted by the raysof the declining sun, numberless snow-capped peaks, tinged with aroseate hue, could be seen in the far distance. Horses and cattle fedon the rich grass of the well-watered meadows, and a few acres broughtunder cultivation produced wheat, Indian corn, barley, and oatssufficient for the wants of the establishment.
Such was the spot which Uncle Donald, who had won the friendship of theSushwap tribe inhabiting the district, had some years ago fixed on ashis abode. He had formerly been an officer in the Hudson's Bay Company,but had, for some reason or other, left their service. Loving thecountry in which he had spent the best years of his life, and where hehad met with the most strange and romantic adventures, he had determinedto make it his home. He had not, however, lost all affection for theland of his birth, or for his relatives and friends, and two yearsbefore the time I speak of he had unexpectedly appeared at the Highlandvillage from which, when a young man, more than a quarter of a centurybefore, he had set out to seek his fortune. Many of his relatives andthe friends of his youth were dead, and he seemed, in consequence, toset greater value on those who remained, who gave him an affectionatereception. Among them was my mother, his niece, who had been a littleblooming girl when he went away, but was now a staid matron, with alarge family.
My father, Mr Morton, was a minister, but having placed himself underthe directions of a Missionary Society, he was now waiting in Londonuntil it was decided in what part of the world he should commence hislabours among the heathen. My two elder brothers were already out inthe world--one as a surgeon, the other in business--and I had a fancyfor going to sea.
"Let Archie come with me," said Uncle Donald. "I will put him in theway of doing far better than he ever can knocking about on salt water;and as for adventures, he'll meet with ten times as many as he would ifhe becomes a sailor." He used some other arguments, probably relatingto my future advantage, which I did not hear. They, at all events,decided my mother; and my father, hearing of the offer, withouthesitation gave his consent to my going. It was arranged, therefore,that I should accompany Uncle Donald back to his far-off home, of whichhe had left his faithful follower, Sandy McTavish, in charge during hisabsence.
"I want to have you with me for your own benefit, Archie; but there isanother reason. I have under my care a boy of about your own age, HughMcLellan, the son of an old comrade, who died and left him to my charge,begging me to act the part of a father to him. I have done so hitherto,and hope to do so as long as I live; you two must be friends. Hugh is afine, frank laddie, and you are sure to like one another. As Sandy wasnot likely to prove a good tutor to him, I left him at Fort Edmontonwhen I came away, and we will call for him as we return."
I must pass over the parting with the dear ones at home, the voyageacross the Atlantic, and the journey through the United States, whichUncle Donald took from its being in those days the quickest route to thepart of the country for which we were bound.
After descending the Ohio, we ascended the Mississippi to its verysource, several hundred miles, by steamboat; leaving which, we struckwestward, passing the head waters of the Bed River of the north, onwhich Fort Garry, the principal post of the Hudson's Bay Company, issituated, but which Uncle Donald did not wish to visit.
We had purchased good saddle-horses and baggage animals to carry ourgoods, and had engaged two men--a French Canadian, Pierre Le Clerc, andan Irishman, Cornelius Crolly, or "Corney," as he was generally called.Both men were known to Uncle Donald, and were considered trustworthyfellows, who would stick by us at a pinch. The route Uncle Donaldproposed taking was looked upon as a dangerous one, but he was so wellacquainted with all the Indian tribes of the north that he believed,even should we encounter a party of Blackfeet, they would not molest us.
We had been riding over the prairie for some hours, with here and there,widely scattered, farms seen in the distance, and were approaching thelast frontier settlement, a village or hamlet on the very outskirts ofcivilisation, when we caught sight of a column of smoke ascending someway on directly ahead of us.
"Can it be the prairie on fire?" I asked, with a feeling of alarm; forI had heard of the fearful way in which prairie fires sometimes extendfor miles and miles, destroying everything in their course.
Uncle Donald stood up in his stirrups that he might obtain a better viewbefore us.
"No; that's not the smoke of burning grass. It looks more like thatfrom a building, or may be from more than one. I fear the villageitself is on fire," he answered.
Scarcely had he spoken when several horsemen appeared galloping towardsus, their countenances as they came near exhibiting the utmost terror.They were passing on, when Uncle Donald shouted out, "Hi! where are yougoing? What has happened?" On hearing the question, one of the menreplied, "The Indians have surprised us. They have killed most of ourpeople, set fire to our houses, and carried off the women and children."
"And you running away without so much as trying to recover them? Shameupon ye!" exclaimed Uncle Donald. "Come on with me, and let's see whatcan be done!"
The men, however, who had scarcely pulled rein, were galloping forward.Uncle Donald shouted to them to come back, but, terror-stricken, theycontinued their course, perhaps mistaking his shouts for the cries ofthe Indians.
"We must try and save some of the poor creatures," said Uncle Donald,turning to our men. "Come on, lads! You are not afraid of a gang ofhowling red-skins!" and we rode on, making our baggage horses move muchfaster than they were wont to do under ordinary circumstances.
Before reaching the village we came to a clump of trees. Here UncleDonald, thinking it prudent not to expose his property to the greedyeyes of the Indians, should we overtake them, ordered Corney and Pierreto halt and remain concealed, while he and I rode forward. By the timewe had got up to the hamlet every farm and log-house was burning, andthe greater part reduced to ashes.
No Indians were to be seen. According to their custom, after they hadperformed their work they had retreated.
I will pass over the dreadful sights we witnessed. Finding no one aliveto whom we could render assistance, we pushed on, Uncle Donald beinganxious to come up with the enemy before they had put their captives todeath. Though darkness was approaching, we still rode forward.
"It's likely they will move on all night, but, you see, they are loaded,and we can travel faster than they will. They are sure to camp beforemorning, and then we'll get up with them," observed Uncle Donald.
"But what will become of our baggage?" I asked.
"Oh, that will be safe enough. Pierre and Corney will remain where weleft them until we get back," he answered.
I was certain that Uncle Donald knew what he was about, or I should havebeen far from easy, I confess.
We went on and on, the Indians keeping ahe
ad of us. From thiscircumstance, Uncle Donald was of opinion that they had not taken manyprisoners. At length we came to a stream running northward, bordered bywillows poplars, and other trees. Instead of crossing directly in frontof us, where it was somewhat deep, we kept up along its banks. We hadnot got far when we saw the light of a fire, kindled, apparently, at thebottom of the hollow through which the stream passed.
"If I'm not far wrong, that fire is in the camp of their rear guard.Their main body cannot be far off," observed Uncle Donald. "Dismounthere, Archie, and you hold the horses behind these trees, while I walkboldly up to them. They won't disturb themselves much for a singleman."
I dismounted as he desired, and he proceeded toward the fire. I feltvery anxious, for I feared that the Blackfeet might fire and kill himwithout stopping to learn who he was.