The Drama of the Forests - Romance and Adventure

Arthur Henry Howard Heming

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• Publié par: nuruc
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 41
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Drama of the Forests, by Arthur Heming This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Drama of the Forests Romance and Adventure Author: Arthur Heming Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #18495] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS *** Produced by Al Haines [Frontispiece: A strange apparition was seen crossing the lake. It appeared to have wings, but it did not fly; and though it possessed a tail, it did not run, but contented itself with moving steadily forward on its long up-turned feet. Over an arm it carried what might have been a trident, and what with its waving tail and great outspreading wings that rose above its horned-like head, it suggested … See Chapter VI.] THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS Romance and Adventure BY ARTHUR HEMING ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR WITH REPRODUCTIONS FROM A SERIES OF HIS PAINTINGS OWNED BY THE ROYAL ONTARIO MUSEUM GARDEN CITY, N. Y., AND TORONTO DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1921 COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN PRINTED AT THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N, Y.. U. S. A. First Edition TO MR. AND MRS. DAVID A. DUNLAP WITH WHOM I SPENT MANY HAPPY SEASONS IN THE GREAT NORTHERN FOREST CONTENTS I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE IN QUEST OF TREASURE OO-KOO-HOO'S EL DORADO OO-KOO-HOO PLAYS THE GAME MEETING OF THE WILD MEN WILD ANIMALS AND MEN LIFE AND LOVE RETURN BUSINESS AND ROMANCE LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A strange apparition was seen crossing the lake. It appeared to have wings . . . . . . Frontispiece I surmised at once who he was, for one could see by the merest glance [Illustration: Oo-koo-hoo's bill.] [Illustration: Oo-koo-hoo's calendar.] Going to the brink, we saw a "York Boat" in the act of shooting the cataract Minutes passed while the rising moon cast golden ripples upon the water The lynx is an expert swimmer and is dangerous to tackle in the water Next morning we found that everything was covered with a heavy blanket of snow The bear circled a little in order to descend. Presently it left the shadow Going to the stage, he took down his five-foot snowshoes As the wolf dashed away, the bounding clog sent the snow flying "There's the York Factory packet from Hudson Bay to Winnipeg" "It was on my father's hunting grounds, and late one afternoon" Oo-koo-hoo could even hear the strange clicking sound After half of May had passed away, and when the spring hunt was over The departure of the Fur Brigade was the one great event of the year INTRODUCTION It was in childhood that the primitive spirit first came whispering to me. It was then that I had my first day-dreams of the Northland—of its forests, its rivers and lakes, its hunters and trappers and traders, its fur-runners and mounted police, its voyageurs and packeteers, its missionaries and Indians and prospectors, its animals, its birds and its fishes, its trees and its flowers, and its seasons. Even in childhood I was for ever wondering … what is daily going on in the Great Northern Forest?… not just this week, this month, or this season, but what is actually occurring day by day, throughout the cycle of an entire year? It was that thought that fascinated me, and when I grew into boyhood, I began delving into books of northern travel, but I did not find the answer there. With the years this ever-present wonder grew, until it so possessed me that at last it spirited me away from the city, while I was still in my teens, and led me along a path of ever-changing and ever-increasing pleasure, showing me the world, not as men had mauled and marred it, but as the Master of Life had made it, in all its original beauty and splendour. Nor was this all. It led me to observe and ponder over the daily pages of the most profound and yet the most fascinating book that man has ever tried to read; and though, it seemed to me, my feeble attempts to decipher its text were always futile, it has, nevertheless, not only taught me to love Nature with an ever-increasing passion, but it has inspired in me an infinite homage toward the Almighty; for, as Emerson says: "In the woods we return to reason and faith. Then I feel that nothing can befall me in life—no disgrace, no calamity (leaving me my eyes)—which Nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground—my head bathed by the blithe air and uplifted into infinite space—all mean egoism vanishes.… I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty." So, to make my life-dream come true, to contemplate in all its thrilling action and undying splendour the drama of the forests, I travelled twenty-three times through various parts of the vast northern woods, between Maine and Alaska, and covered thousands upon thousands of miles by canoe, pack-train, snowshoes, bateau, dog-train, buck-board, timber-raft, prairie-schooner, lumber-wagon, and "alligator." No one trip ever satisfied me, or afforded me the knowledge or the experience I sought, for traversing a single section of the forest was not unlike making one's way along a single street of a metropolis and then trying to persuade oneself that one knew all about the city's life. So back again I went at all seasons of the year to encamp in that great timberland that sweeps from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Thus it has taken me thirty-three years to gather the information this volume contains, and my only hope in writing it is that perhaps others may have had the same day-dream, and that in this book they may find a reliable and satisfactory answer to all their wonderings. But making my dream come true —what delight it gave me! What sport and travel it afforded me! What toil and sweat it caused me! What food and rest it brought me! What charming places it led me through! What interesting people it ranged beside me! What romance it unfolded before me! and into what thrilling adventures it plunged me! But before we paddle down the winding wilderness aisle toward the great stage upon which Diana and all her attendant huntsmen and forest creatures may appear, I wish to explain that in compliance with the wishes of the leading actors—who actually lived their parts of this story—fictitious names have been given to the principal characters and to the principal trading posts, lakes, and rivers herein depicted. Furthermore, in order to give the reader a more interesting, complete, and faithful description of the daily and the yearly life of the forest dwellers as I have observed it, I have taken the liberty of weaving together the more interesting facts I have gathered—both first- and second-hand —into one continuous narrative as though it all happened in a single year. And in order to retain all the primitive local colour, the unique costumes, and the fascinating romance of the fur-trade days as I witnessed them in my twenties—though much of the life has already passed away—the scene is set to represent a certain year in the early nineties. ARTHUR HEMING. THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS I ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE HER FATHER THE FREE TRADER It was September 9, 189-. From sunrise to sunset through mist, sunshine, shower, and shadow we travelled, and the nearer we drew to our first destination, the wilder the country became, the more water-fowl we saw, and the more the river banks were marked with traces of big game. Here signs told us that three caribou had crossed the stream, there muddy water was still trickling into the hoofprint of a moose, and yonder a bear had been fishing. Finally, the day of our arrival dawned, and as I paddled, I spent much of the time dreaming of the adventure before me. As our beautiful birchen craft still sped on her way, the handsome bow parted the shimmering waters, and a passing breeze sent little running waves gurgling along her sides, while the splendour of the autumn sun was reflected on a far-reaching row of dazzling ripples that danced upon the water, making our voyageurs lower their eyes and the trader doze again. There was no other sign of life except an eagle soaring in and out among the fleecy clouds slowly passing overhead. All around was a panorama of enchanting forest. My travelling companion was a "Free Trader," whose name was Spear—a tall, stoop-shouldered man with heavy eyebrows and shaggy, drooping moustache. The way we met was amusing. It happened in a certain frontier town. His first question was as to whether I was single. His second, as to whether my time was my own. Then he slowly looked me over from head to foot. He seemed to be measuring my stature and strength and to be noting the colour of my eyes and hair. Narrowing his vision, he scrutinized me more carefully than before, for now he seemed to be reading my character—if not my soul. Then, smiling, he blurted out: "Come, be my guest for a couple of weeks. Will you?" I laughed. He frowned. But on realizing that my mirth was caused only by surprise, he smiled again and let flow a vivid description of a place he called Spearhead. It was the home of the northern fur trade. It was the centre of a great timber region. It was the heart of a vast fertile belt that was rapidly becoming the greatest of all farming districts. It was built on the fountain head of gigantic water power. It virtually stood over the very vault that contained the richest veins of mineral to be found in the whole Dominion—at least that's what he said—and he also assured me that the Government had realized it, too, for was it not going to hew a provincial highway clean through the forest to Spearhead? Was it not going to build a fleet of steamers to ply upon the lakes and rivers in that section? And was it not going to build a line of