The Arctic Prairies : a Canoe-Journey of 2,000 Miles in Search of the Caribou;
CHAPTER V
902 words | Chapter 6
A CONFERENCE WITH THE CHIEFS
A few bands of Buffalo are said to exist in the country east of
Great Slave River. Among other matters, Major Jarvis had to report
on these, find out how many were left, and exactly where they were.
When he invited me to join his expedition, with these questions in
view, I needed no pressing.
Our first business was to get guides, and now our troubles began.
Through the traders we found four natives who knew the Buffalo
range--they were Kiya, Sousi, Kirma, and Peter Squirrel. However,
they seemed in no way desirous of guiding any one into that
country. They dodged and delayed and secured many postponements,
but the Royal Mounted Police and the Hudson's Bay Company are the
two mighty powers of the land, so, urged by an officer of each,
these worthies sullenly assembled to meet us in Sousi's cabin.
Sousi, by the way, is Chipewyan for Joseph, and this man's name
was Joseph Beaulieu. Other northern travellers have warned all that
came after them to beware of the tribe of Beaulieu, so we were on
guard.
Sullen silence greeted us as we entered; we could feel their
covert antagonism. Jarvis is one of those affable, good-tempered
individuals that most persons take for "easy." In some ways he may
be so, but I soon realised that he was a keen judge of men and their
ways, and he whispered to me: "They mean to block us if possible."
Sousi understood French and had some English, but the others professed
ignorance of everything but Chipewyan. So it was necessary to call
in an interpreter. How admirably he served us may be judged from
the following sample secured later.
Q. Are the Buffalo near?
A. Wah-hay-was-ki busquow Kai-ah taw nip-ee-wat-chow-es-kee
nee-moy-ah. Kee-as-o-win sugee-meesh i-mush-wa mus-tat-e-muck
ne-mow-ah pe-muk-te-ok nemoy-ah dane-tay-tay-ah.
Interpreter. He say "no."
Q. How long would it take to get them?
A. Ne-moy-ah mis-chay-to-ok Way-hay-o ay-ow-ok-iman-kah-mus-to-ok.
Mis-ta-hay cha-gowos-ki wah-hay-o musk-ee-see-seepi. Mas-kootch
e-goot-ah-i-ow mas-kootch ne-moy-ah muk-eboy sak-te-muk mas-kootch
gahk-sin-now ne-moy-ah gehk-kee-win-tay dam-foole-Inglis.
Interpreter. He say "don't know."
Q. Can you go with us as guide?
A. Kee-ya-wah-lee nas-bah a-lash-tay wah-lee-lee lan-day. (Answer
literally) "Yes, I could go if I could leave the transport."
Interpreter's answer, "Mebby."
After a couple of hours of this bootless sort of thing we had
made no headway toward getting a guide, nor could we get definite
information about the Buffaloes or the Wolves. Finally the meeting
suffered a sort of natural disintegration.
Next day we tried again, but again there were technical difficulties,
grown up like mushrooms over night.
Kiya could not go or lend his horses, because it was mostly
Squirrel's country, and he was afraid Squirrel would not like it.
Squirrel could not go because it would be indelicate of him to
butt in after negotiations had been opened with Kiya. Kirma was not
well. Sousi could not go because his wife was sick, and it preyed
on his mind so that he dare not trust himself away from the
settlement; at least, not without much medicine to fortify him
against rheumatism, home-sickness, and sadness.
Next day Kiya sent word that he had business of great moment, and
could not meet us, but would see that early in the morning Squirrel
was notified to come and do whatever we wished. In the morning Squirrel
also had disappeared, leaving word that he had quite overlooked a
most important engagement to "portage some flour across the rapids,"
not that he loved the tump line, but he had "promised," and to keep
his word was very precious to him.
Jarvis and I talked it over and reviewed the information we had.
At Ottawa it was reported that the Wolves were killing the calves,
so the Buffalo did not increase. At Winnipeg the Wolves were so
bad that they killed yearlings; at Edmonton the cows were not safe.
At Chipewyan the Wolves, reinforced by large bands from the Barren
Grounds, were killing the young Buffalo, and later the cows and
young bulls. At Smith's Landing the Wolves had even tackled an old
bull whose head was found with the large bones. Horses and dogs
were now being devoured. Terrible battles were taking place between
the dark Wolves of Peace River and the White Wolves of the Barrens
for possession of the Buffalo grounds. Of course the Buffalo were
disappearing; about a hundred were all that were left.
But no one ever sees any of these terrible Wolves, the few men who
know that country have plenty of pemmican, that is neither Moose
nor Caribou, and the Major briefly summed up the situation: "The
Wolves are indeed playing havoc with the Buffalo, and the ravenous
leaders of the pack are called Sousi, Kiya, Kirma, and Squirrel."
Now of all the four, Sousi, being a Beaulieu and a half-breed, had
the worst reputation, but of all the four he was the only one that
had admitted a possibility of guiding us, and was to be found on the
fifth morning. So his views were met, a substitute found to watch
his fishing nets, groceries to keep his wife from pining during his
absence, a present for himself, the regular rate of wages doubled,
his horses hired, his rheumatism, home-sickness, and sadness provided
against, a present of tobacco, some more presents, a promise of
reward for every Buffalo shown, then another present, and we set
out.
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