The Drama of the Forests | Page 5

might have been
a match for him. He, too, was an Ojibway, and his name was Narphim.
He lived somewhere out in the Peace River country, and I've heard it
stated that he killed, in his lifetime, more than eighty thousand living
things. Some bag for one hunter."
Since Trader Spear made that interesting remark I have had the
pleasure of meeting a factor of the Hudson's Bay Company who knew
Narphim from boyhood, and who was a personal friend of his, and who

was actually in charge of a number of posts at which the Indian traded.
Owing to their friendship for one another, the Factor took such a
personal pride in the fame the hunter won, that he compiled, from the
books of the Hudson's Bay Company, a complete record of all the
fur-bearing animals the Indian killed between the time he began to
trade as a hunter at the age of eleven, until his hunting days were ended.
Furthermore, in discussing the subject with Narphim they together
compiled an approximate list of the number of fish, wild fowl, and
rabbits that the hunter must have secured each season, and thus
Narphim's record stands as the following figures show. I would tell you
the Factor's name but as he has written to me: "For many cogent
reasons it is desirable that my name be not mentioned officially in your
book," I must refrain. I shall, however, give you the history of Narphim
in the Factor's own words:
"Narphim's proper name remains unknown as he was one of two
children saved when a band of Ojibways were drowned in crossing a
large lake that lies S. E. of Cat Lake and Island Lake, and S. E. of
Norway House. He was called Narphim--Saved from the Waters. The
other child that was rescued was a girl and she was called
Neseemis--Our Little Sister. At first Narphim was adopted and lived
with a Swampy Cree chief, the celebrated Keteche-ka-paness, who was
a great medicine man. When Narphim grew to be eleven years old he
became a hunter, and first traded his catch at Island Lake; then as the
years went by, at Oxford House; then at Norway House, then at Fort
Chepewyan, and then at Fort McMurray. After that he went to Lesser
Slave Lake, then on to the Peace River at Dunvegan, then he showed up
at Fort St. John, next at Battle River, and finally at Vermilion.
"The following is a list of the number of creatures Narphim killed, but
of course he also killed a good deal of game that was never recorded in
the Company's books, especially those animals whose skins were used
for the clothing of the hunter's family.
"Bears 585, beaver 1,080, ermines 130, fishers 195, red foxes 362,
cross foxes 78, silver and black foxes 6, lynxes 418, martens 1,078,
minks 384, muskrats 900, porcupines 19, otters 194, wolves 112,

wolverines 24, wood buffaloes 99, moose 396, caribou 196, jumping
deer 72, wapiti 156, mountain sheep 60, mountain goats 29; and rabbits,
approximately 8,000, wild fowl, approximately 23,800, and fish
approximately 36,000. Total 74,573.
"Yes, Narphim was a great hunter and a good man," says the Factor in
his last letter to me. "He was a fine, active, well-built Indian and a
reliable and pleasant companion. In fact, he was one of Nature's
gentlemen, whom we shall be, and well may be, proud to meet in the
Great Beyond, known as the Happy Hunting Grounds."
Thus the evening drifted by. While the names of several of the best
hunters had been mentioned as suitable men for me to accompany on
their hunting trail, it was suggested that as the men themselves would
probably visit the Post in the morning, I should have a chat with them
before making my selection. Both Mackenzie and Spear, however,
seemed much in favour of my going with an Indian called Oo-koo-hoo.
Presently the clock struck ten and we turned in, the Free Trader sharing
a big feather bed with me.
THEIR SUMMER LIFE
After breakfast next morning I strolled about the picturesque point. It
was a windless, hazy day. An early frost had already clothed a number
of the trees with their gorgeous autumnal mantles, the forerunners of
Indian summer, the most glorious season of the Northern year.
When I turned down toward the wharf, I found a score of Indians and
half-breed trippers unloading freight from a couple of six-fathom
birch-bark canoes. Eager men and boys were good-naturedly loading
themselves with packs and hurrying away with them to the storehouse,
while others were lounging around or applauding the carriers with the
heaviest loads. As the packers hurried by, Delaronde, the jovial,
swarthy-faced, French-Canadian clerk, note-book in hand, checked the
number of pieces. Over by the log huts a group