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Updated: May 25, 2025
The day after we came, the north wind set in, and continued for three days, so that soon there was not a Caribou to be found in the region. In the afternoon I went up the hill to where Weeso left the offal of his deer. A large yellowish animal was there feeding. It disappeared over a rock and I could get no second view of it.
But all were literally and figuratively in the same boat, all paddled all day, ate the same food worked the same hours, and imbued with the same spirit were eager to reach the same far goal. From this on the trip was ideal. Two of these 9 lakes had not been named by the original explorers. I therefore exercised my privilege and named them, respectively, "Loutit" and "Weeso," in honour of my men.
One day when at Gravel Mountain, old Weeso came to camp in evident fear "far off he had seen a man." In this country a man must mean an Eskimo; with them the Indian has a long feud; of them he is in terror. We never learned the truth; I think he was mistaken. Once or twice the long howl of the White Wolf sounded from the shore, and every day we saw a few Caribou.
I found an unexpected difficulty in writing them down, viz.: no matter how I pronounced them, old Weeso and Freesay, my informants, would say, "Yes, that is right." This, I learned, was out of politeness; no matter how you mispronounce their words it is good form to say, "That's it; now you have it exactly."
"That night old Weeso said to me, through Billy, the interpreter: 'To-morrow is Sunday, therefore he would like to have a prayer-meeting after breakfast. "'Tell him, I said, 'that I quite approve of his prayer-meeting, but also it must be understood that if the good Lord sends us a sailing wind in the morning that is His way of letting us know we should sail.
They started 3 1/4 miles with heavy loads, very heavy labour I must admit, back then in four hours to make another meal, and camp. Next morning another row before they would get up and take each another load. But canoe and everything were over by noon. And then came the final scene. In all the quarrels and mutinies, old Weeso had been faithful to me.
Old Weeso took all the Indians off to a rock, where, bareheaded and in line, they kneeled facing the east, and for half an hour he led them in prayer, making often the sign of the cross.
"This sounded so logical that Weeso meekly said, 'All right. "Sure enough, the morning dawned with a wind and we got away after the regular sullen grumbling. About 10.20 the usual glassy calm set in and Weeso asked me for a piece of paper and a pencil.
His answer was short and final, "Yes," but he could not, as his uncle had told him not to go beyond this portage. That settled it. The childlike obedience to their elders is admirable, but embarrassing at times. So Weeso went after all, and we got very well acquainted on that long trip. He was a nice old chap.
Again and again, when we landed on the level or rocky shore and all hands set out to pick up the few pencil-thick stems of creeping birch, roots of annual plants, or wisps of grass to boil the kettle, old Weeso would wander off by himself and in five minutes return with an armful of the most amazingly acceptable firewood conjured out of the absolutely timberless, unpromising waste.
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