Жизнь эскимосов 7

CHAPTER VII
BACK TO THE WILDERNESS

Bishop Bompas was not to return alone to his great work, for a few days after his consecration, May 7, he was united in marriage to Miss Charlotte Selina Cox by Bishop Anderson, assisted by the Rev. John Robins, Vicar of St. Peter’s, Netting Hill, and the Rev. Henry Gordon, Rector of Harting.
Mrs. Bompas was a woman of much refinement and devotion to the mission cause. Her father, Joseph Cox, M.D., of Montague Square, London, was ordered to Naples for his health. During this trip, in which he was accompanied by his family, his daughter, afterwards Mrs. Bompas, acquired that love for the Italian language which ever after continued to be a great source of pleasure to her. No matter where she went in the northern wilds of Canada, she carried her Dante with her, which she studied, with much delight, in the original.
During her stay at Naples she attended her first ball, given by the British Ambassador, and met the King of Naples (the notorious King “Bomba”), and always afterwards remembered his remark in Italian, “What have you done to amuse yourself at the carnival?”
When quite young, Mrs. Bompas had little interest in missions, and says: “My brother, who was Vicar of Bishop’s Tawton, Devonshire, used to hold missionary meetings at the Vicarage, and I remember thinking them the dullest affairs, and the clergymen who addressed us, and whom my brother, perhaps, would introduce as the distinguished missionary from Japan or Honolulu, I looked upon as the most dismal old slow coaches it was anyone’s unhappy fate to attend to.”
Her interest at length became aroused, and later, when the martyrdom of Bishop Patteson startled the Christian world, she became much excited, and reached, as she tells us, “the enthusiastic stage when we resolve to become missionaries ourselves, and are all impatient to be off anywhere—to China, Japan, or to the Indians of the Mackenzie River.”
It was at this period she cast in her lot with the Bishop of Athabasca, and became “consecrated to mission work.”
The Bishop and Mrs. Bompas, on May 12, 1874, set their faces towards their great field of labour. Friends and loved ones came to bid them farewell, among whom was Bishop Anderson, late of Rupert’s Land, who presented the Bishop with a beautiful paten for his cathedral in the new Diocese of Athabasca. The good steamship China, of the Cunard Line, received them, and soon she was cutting her way through the water bound for New York. Consecrated, married, and sailed all in one week! Such was the record of the Bishop, who declared it was the hardest week he ever experienced. Never again was he to look upon the shores of his native land, or visit the scenes of childhood; the northern wilds of Canada needed him, and there he remained till the last.
Ahead of them lay the long journey of two months by open boat to Fort Simpson. At Winnipeg they missed the boats of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and after some difficulty another was obtained, in the hope of overtaking the former. It was a “brilliant, cloudless” June morning when they crossed the prairie towards St. John’s Cathedral, and sighted the “river, looking still and silvery in the morning light,” and found the boat, their home for weeks to come, “moored just below St. John’s College.” Farewells were said, the boat pushed off, and they moved on their way, leaving the Bishop of Rupert’s Land waving his hand from the bank of the stream.
It was a tedious journey, as day after day they glided forward. Not only was the heat intense, but the swarms of mosquitoes proved a great annoyance.
“I had come prepared for intense cold,” wrote Mrs. Bompas, “and we were destined to endure tropical heat. All up the Saskatchewan, Stanley, and English Rivers the banks slope down like a funnel, and the July and August sun scorches with vertical rays the heads of the travellers. We were seated in open boats, each with a crew of ten or twelve men, who spread our sails when the wind was fair, and took them in when the wind failed us. Eighty-six was, some of those days, our average temperature, and I had come provided with the thickest of serge dresses, as none of my friends had realized the possibility of anything but frost and cold in these northern regions. Besides this, we had to encounter swarms of mosquitoes, crowding thick around us, penetrating our boots and stockings, and invading our Robabou soup and pemmican, etc. I remember the bliss it was in those days in camping-time to escape from the rest of the party, and, getting rid of boots and stockings, to sit with my feet and legs in the cool water of the river, to soothe the intolerable irritation of the mosquito-bites.”
But in the midst of all this there were times of refreshing, and at various places hearty were the greetings that awaited them. One morning they reached St. Andrews, on Red River, and there before them appeared a pretty stone church, with wide, square tower, and a comfortable-looking parsonage-house, with a nice veranda, and a few scattered cottages around. It was a pleasant home scene, and there they found the Vicar, the Rev. John Grisdale (afterwards Bishop of Qu’Appelle), and about sixty others, who had been waiting all the morning to receive them. After luncheon had been served a little service was held on the veranda, and as they left, the bell of the church rang out a peal of farewell, and all on shore gave a hearty cheer.
All along the way Indians were encountered camped on the bank, and at times a halt was made while the Bishop spoke a few words to them. One night they stopped near a number of natives, and service was held. Among the party was a poor woman totally blind. The Bishop knelt by her side and told her of the blind man in the Gospel story, and repeated to her several passages of Scripture, to which the woman listened with much eagerness, and seemed greatly pleased.
The many long, hard portages formed a great impediment to their progress, and through the scorching heat, fighting myriads of mosquitoes, the provisions had to be carried overland and the boat dragged up the rapids. The Bishop willingly took his share of the labour, and though of great strength, overtaxed himself in lifting a heavy box, and sprained his back, or, rather, re-sprained it, as he had been injured some weeks before in hauling at the boat. He suffered much agony from the sprain, which troubled him somewhat during the rest of his life.
An incident happened on this trip which serves to show the Bishop’s forgetfulness of self when others were to be considered. A young Indian lost his hat overboard, and, being unable to obtain it, suffered much from the heat as he toiled at the oar. The Bishop, seeing his discomfort, at once placed his own hat upon the Indian’s head, and insisted that he should wear it. The sight of the native with the flat, broad-brimmed episcopal head-gear caused great amusement to the entire company.
There were times of excitement, too, as they moved on their way. We shall let Mrs. Bompas tell of one in her own graphic style:
“It was about 6 o’clock p.m., the sun still high, but a fresh breeze had set in, and was filling the sail of our boat, and giving us comfort and refreshment after a sultry day. We were beginning to discuss our landing, wondering where our steersman intended us to encamp that night, as all the details are left to his control and management.
“Suddenly, as we were quietly sailing on, an exclamation was made by one of our sailors, and as suddenly all eyes were directed towards a line of thick wood which encircled a bay on our right. It would be impossible to give any idea of the intense eagerness which marked the gaze of our ten men. You must know something of the Indian’s intensity of character, and his love of sport, to be able to understand and appreciate it.“Our fore-oar man, ‘Charley,’ especially attracted my attention. Such a strange, tawny, heavy face as his was when passive, with long black hair hanging on each side his face, and a disordered attempt at whiskers and moustache; one hand clutching nervously at his oar, and the other shading his eyes; every sinew, almost every nerve, in a state of tension. We longed to ask what object they saw, but scarcely ventured to do so, for silence had overspread our crew, and though apparently much was being discussed, and important matters decided upon, yet it was all done by signs, or in low-whispered accents. At last some conclusion was evidently arrived at. The sail was lowered, and our course altered in the direction of the wood in question. At the same time the Bishop ascertained from one of the men, and whispered to me, the cause of all this excitement—namely, ‘a black bear’!“It needed the quick eye and ear of a Red Indian to detect the bear, if such it was, at the distance we then found ourselves from the wood, and amid the countless shadows of those great Norway pines, or the grotesque forms of aged stumps and stones which edged the wood. For some moments I felt convinced that it was all a mistake, and that our bear would turn out no more than a ‘bare idea’! However, the men had full faith in their hero, though I had none, and so, still in dead silence, we moved steadily on, making for the wood at the exact point where the dark object had at first been visible.
“It was really very striking, the way in which we drew up to shore, and lowered our sail, all with no more sound than would have awakened a sleeping infant. And now two of the men slipped ashore, having first possessed themselves of loaded guns. Others followed, with soft, stealthy footsteps, and all soon disappeared in the mazes of the thick forest.
“One thing I could observe for myself, which laid to rest my doubts as to the fact of the bear having actually been seen—great, spreading paw-prints on the sand. Yes, he had an existence then, poor old Bruin! and had been quietly disporting himself upon the sand that evening, perhaps in pursuit of a little fish for his supper, little thinking, poor beast, of the sumptuous repast for ten hungry men which he was destined to form that very night.
“The part left for us to play at this time was certainly less exciting and less interesting than that of our men. Close into the shore at that time of the evening mosquitoes invariably abound. This evening they positively swarmed, and in addition to them were a number of sand-flies, so small that no veil could keep them out, and almost as vicious as their great-aunts, the mosquitoes. So there we sat, poor, helpless beings! tapping our foreheads and hands to get quit of our buzzing enemies, and thinking longingly of our tents and supper.
“Suddenly there was the sound of a gun fired, which roused our interest, and made us feel as if the game were in earnest.
First one, then another report was heard, and after a few moments’ interval there arose shouts of triumph, and cries or screams, such as only those Indians can give.
“Our party in the meantime, being weary of the mosquitoes, and naturally by this time somewhat excited by the matter in hand, had left the boat and gone ashore. Sticks and faggots were collected, and in a few moments a splendid fire was kindled. Around it we closely gathered, thankful for the temporary relief from the buzzing enemies, for no mosquitoes dare invade the region of smoke or fire.
“Soon was heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Tramp, tramp, tramp, as of men marching under some heavy burden, accompanied by the sound of many voices, and soon the party appeared in sight. The two foremost carried a stout pole, to which, with his legs tied together, hung the body of poor Bruin! The men brought up their trophy and laid him down among the ferns, and bluebells, and pretty golden tansy for us to examine. A splendid bear he was, about two years old, very fat, and with hair as sleek and glossy as if—forgive me, Bruin!—he had been accustomed to the use of ‘bear’s grease.’
“Our young French-Canadian, who had shot him, said he had tracked the beast for some distance, and then stood still. In a few moments he heard the rustle of leaves and breaking twigs, and the slow tread of the four paws. Soon he came in sight, when one shot made him fall, and a second bullet despatched him wholly.
“That night—that very night, over our camp-fire, a huge cauldron was suspended, and joints of bear were cooked, eaten, and I presume enjoyed, by our men. We ourselves were, I was thankful to feel, excused from sharing in the repast that evening. But a dish of delicate bear steaks was presented to us next morning for breakfast; and having with difficulty conquered a certain feeling of great repugnance in tasting them, we could not but pronounce them excellent.
“I do not think it is at all fair to name a person who is uncouth and ill-mannered ‘bearish.’ My experience of Bruin shows that he is remarkable for a sedate yet good-tempered expression, and his tastes are certainly not ungentlemanly, as he seems to live entirely on fish and the wild berries of these noble Canadian forests. I understand that a bear once was heard to tell his cub, who ate voraciously, and showed temper to his brothers and sisters, that he was most ‘mannish’ in his behaviour. I thought the epithet not wholly inappropriate.”
Fort Simpson was reached on September 24, and much excitement took place. The red flag of welcome was soon hoisted, and Mr. Hardisty, the chief officer, and the whole settlement came to the shore to meet them. So hearty was the reception that they did not perceive the shadow—the grim shadow of starvation—that was hanging over the fort and land. There was only one week’s provisions in the Company’s store, and game was very scarce. At this point the new party arrived, bringing six extra mouths to be fed, besides the boat’s crew, and yet the Company’s officers received them with the utmost courtesy and good temper, and did their best to look and speak cheerfully. Most of the men around the fort had to be sent away, and there was difficulty in collecting dried scraps of meat for the wives and children. At length there came a time when there was not another meal left. The poor dogs hung around the houses, “day by day growing thinner and thinner, their poor bones almost through their skins; their sad, wistful look when anyone appeared. Even a dry biscuit could not be thrown to them.” But just when matters reached the worst, two Indians arrived, bringing fresh meat, and the great tension slackened.
“From that moment,” says Mrs. Bompas, “the supplies have never failed. As surely as the provisions got low, so surely, too, would two or three sledges appear unexpectedly, bringing fresh supplies.”