On the Indian Trail | Page 6

I decided, trusting
in God and in these men, to make the journey.
The country through which we travelled was one of the roughest and

wildest in that dreary, desolate land. The streams were so full of rapids
that we had constantly to be making portages. This was slow and
laborious work. Our method of procedure was something like this: as
soon as we discovered that the current was too rapid to be safe, or that
we were hearing some great falls, we went ashore and quickly unloaded
our canoe; William, the guide, easily lifted it upon his head and starting
off, soon disappeared in the forest, running where possible, and keeping
parallel with the raging stream until he reached a place below which the
waters were again navigable; Peter, my other Indian, as speedily as
possible made a large bundle of our blankets, kettles, and supplies, and
with this upon his back, supported by a carrying strap round his
forehead, quickly followed the trail made by William; while to me was
assigned the work of carrying the guns, ammunition, changes of
raiment and the presents, and Bibles for the Indians we expected to
visit. Although my load was not nearly as heavy as those carried by my
stalwart canoemen, yet I was utterly unable to keep up with them in the
trail. Indians, when thus loaded, never walk: they seem to glide along
on a swinging trot that carries them over the ground very rapidly. A
white man, unaccustomed to this pace, is very soon left behind. This
was my experience. All I could do, was to trudge bravely along under
my miscellaneous load, which was becoming constantly disarranged,
thus causing delay.
But my greatest trouble was to keep the trail. There was absolutely no
path. All the trail, was that made by my two Indians, and Indians are
trained to leave as little evidence of their movements as possible. So I
was often lost. I would at the beginning of the portage, bravely
shoulder my burden and endeavour to keep in sight of my men. This,
however, I found to be an utter impossibility. A sharp turn among the
rocky ridges, or a plunge into the dense dark forest, and they were gone
from my vision. Then my perplexities began. If, as some times
happened, the trail was through mud, or reeds and rushes I could
generally follow them in it; but, as more frequently happened, the trail
was over rocky ridges, or through dense forests, sometimes for miles,
and I was often completely bewildered and lost.
The trouble at first was, that being too perplexed, or too ignorant of

what was the safer course to pursue, I would quicken my pace and
hurry on--somewhere. On and on I would stumble under my heavy
awkward load until the sweat fell like rain from my brow and my back
ached. More than once when thus hurrying I have been startled by some
savage beast, that with a snort or a growl, dashed away in front of me.
This only added speed to my footsteps, and frightened now I would
hurry on, until utterly worn-out and exhausted I threw off my heavy
burdens and sank down on the nearest rock or log, tired out. Perhaps in
my ignorance and perversity I had wandered far away, even in an
opposite direction from that which I should have taken.
Fortunate was it for me that I had such men for my comrades. I knew
their worth and loyalty, as well as their ability quickly to find me. As
soon as they had safely reached the end of the portage they would be on
the alert for my arrival. If I delayed beyond what they thought to be
sufficient time they would set off on the back trail looking for me. With
that unerring instinct which so many of them possess in woodcraft, and
which to me always seemed perfectly marvellous, they soon found
where I had wandered from the trail. From this point they had not the
slightest difficulty in following and finding me. Without any chiding,
but with perhaps a pitying look and a quiet utterance that sounded like
"Good missionary, but him lost the trail," they would quickly pick up
my burdens, and safely guide me to our waiting canoe. All I had to
carry was perhaps the Book which I had with me, the reading of which,
enabled me profitably to pass the hours that often elapsed ere my
faithful men found me.
We lived on just what we could shoot, as it was impossible to carry
additional supplies in a birch canoe. Hunter's luck varies considerably
even in a land of game, and we at least had variety in our bill of fare.
Black bears being still numerous in those