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Updated: May 23, 2025
Another thing that inclined him towards taking the old trail was his strong faith that we should get trout in the outlet to Lake Elson, where we had such a successful fishing on the inbound journey. He argued, furthermore, that along what we then thought was the Nascaupee River we should be able to recover the provisions we had abandoned soon after plunging into the wild.
But he made one adventure that was most unprofitable. In an evil hour he took to wife Rebecca, relict of Abraham Elson, and also relict of Jarvis Mudge, and of whom so good a man as the Rev. John Whiting, minister of the First Church in Hartford afterward first pastor of the Second Church said that she was "a lewd, ignorant and considerably aged woman."
An old trail led from Mountaineer Lake to Lake Elson, which George pronounced to be a caribou trail, but which Hubbard believed to be an old portage, because it led from lake to lake by the most direct course. There were no axe cuttings, however, to indicate that the Indians had followed it. We tried the troll in Mountaineer Lake, but caught nothing.
Once or twice while skirting Lake Elson we halted to pick the few scattering mossberries that were to be found, once we halted to make tea to stimulate us, and at our old camp on Mountaineer Lake we again boiled the bones and used the water to wash down another piece of the caribou hide. In the afternoon George took the lead, I followed, and Hubbard brought up the rear.
Behind me in my canoe sat the trusty hero whose courage and honour and fidelity made my venture possible, and who took from my shoulders so much of the responsibility. Through George Elson I engaged and paid the other men of my party, and on him I relied to communicate to them my plans and my directions and desires. It was a perfect day.
We were ravenously hungry, and ate even the heads of the dried trout we had for luncheon, these being the last of those we caught and smoked on Lake Elson. During the afternoon we put out for the first time the old gill net Mackenzie had given us, and by hard work with the rod caught a few more trout for supper. It still poured on Sunday morning.
Not only did he turn out to be a man of intelligence, quick of perception and resourceful, but he turned out to be a man of character, and I am proud to introduce him to the reader as my friend George Elson, a half-breed Cree Indian from down on James Bay. The first instance of George's resourcefulness that we noted occurred upon his arrival in New York.
And if it please you to send any letters to Dantiske, to Robert Elson, or to William Watson's servant, Dunstan Walton to be conveyed to us, it may please you to enclose ours in a letter sent from you to him, written in Polish, Dutch, Latin, or Italian; so enclosed coming to the Moscow to his hands, he will convey our letters to us wheresoever we be.
That's a hell of a name, now, ain't it?" The man went two long steps toward the mocking rider, and spoke quietly, but with unmistakable meaning. "I'll endeavor to make it all of that for you, if you will get off your horse." The grinning cowboy, with a wink at his companion, dismounted cheerfully. Curly Elson was held to be the best man with his hands in Yavapai County.
"There's one in that bunch that's sure aimin' to make you ride some," said Curly Elson with a grin, to Phil, as the family sat at breakfast. On the Cross-Triangle the men who were held through the summer and winter seasons between the months of the rodeos were considered members of the family.
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