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Updated: May 5, 2025
The Slave plunged to his freedom, down his riven, stone-spiked bed, knowing no patient eddy, and white-wreathed his dark shiny rocks in spume and spray. A far cry it was from bright June at Port Chippewayan to dim October on Great Slave Lake.
"Boys," said our leader finally, "somehow the echoes dying away in that cave reminded me of the mourn of the big white wolves in the Barren Lands." Wallace puffed huge clouds of white smoke, and I waited, knowing that I was to hear at last the story of the Colonel's great adventure in the Northland. It was a waiting day at Fort Chippewayan.
"Little hope, but the search will begin from there," replied the doctor. "I have more hope at Chippewayan, where we struck a clew. I sent back my Indian to follow it up." They went to bed. How long he had slept Philip had no idea, when he was awakened by a slight noise. In a sub-conscious sort of way, with his eyes still closed, he lay without moving and listened.
Earlier in the day Howland had been told that this was the Great North Trail that led into the vast wildernesses beyond the Saskatchewan. Two days before, the factor from Lac Bain, the Chippewayan and the Crees had come in over it. Its hard crust bore the marks of the sledges of Jean Croisset and the men from the Lac la Ronge country.
You may not think they are much like our Indians, but they belong to the Chippewayan family, the same as the Apaches, who have caused so much trouble in Mexico and Arizona." "That has been my 'pinion," said Tim, who now heard the fact for the first time; "and the raison why the Alaska redskins ain't as bad as the Apaches is 'cause the weather is so cold it freezes up all the diviltry in them."
It happened most fortunately that there were a number of Chippewayan Indians encamped on the spot at the time, else we should have been completely at a nonplus. The crews, good souls! hired those Indians at their own expense, to carry the greater part of the property in their small canoes to the upper part of the river.
Philip dressed, and looked at his compass. "Still north?" he asked. "Chippewayan is south and west." "North," said DeBar. "I know of a breed who lives on Red Porcupine Creek, which runs into the Slave. If we can find him we'll get grub, and if we don't " He laughed openly into the other's face. "We won't fight," said Philip, understanding him.
"The chiefs of the Chippewayan and Great Slave tribes have been apprised of your coming. They have held council and are here to speak with you." At a motion from the commandant, the line of chieftains piled down to the level bench and formed a half-circle before the voyager.
But now the deepening gloom, the darkening of the sky above, the gray picture ahead of him the Chippewayan, as silent as the trees, the dogs pulling noiselessly in their traces like slinking shadows, the ghost-like desolation about him, all recalled him to that other factor in the game, who was DeBar the outlaw, and not DeBar the man.
There ought to be a lock or a channel cut through, so that steamboats could run the whole length from Chippewayan to the Rockies! As it is, everything has to portage there." "We don't know whether to call this country old or young," said Rob. "In some ways it doesn't seem to have changed very much, and in other ways it seems just like any other place."
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