Oowikapun Page 2

  All this was very strange and even startling to Oowikapun. He had lived all his life in a land dark with superstition and paganism. The Gospel had as yet never been proclaimed there. The name of Jesus had never been heard in that wild north-land, and so as none of the blessedness of religion had entered into the hearts of the people, so none of its sweet, losing, elevating influences had begun to ennoble and bless their lives and improve their habits. So he pondered over what he witnessed and heard, and was thankful when the day’s hunting was over, and Memotas would talk to him as they sat there on their robes around the fire, often for hours at a time. From him he learned how it was that they had so changed in many of their ways. Memotas told him of the coming to Norway House of the first missionary, the Reverend James Evans, with the book of heaven, the words of the Good Spirit to his children. He told him many of the wonderful things it speaks about, and that it showed how man was to love and worship God, and thus secure his blessing and favour. The little book which Memotas had was composed of the four gospels only. These Mr Evans had had printed at the village in Indian letters, which he had invented and called “syllabic characters.” They are so easily learned by the Indians, that in a few weeks those who were diligent in their studies were able to read fluently those portions of the word of God already translated for them, as well as a number of beautiful hymns. Oowikapun had never heard of such things, and was so amazed and confounded that he could hardly believe that he was in his right mind, especially when Memotas, to try and give him some idea of the syllabic characters in which his little book was printed, made little sentences with a piece of coal on birch bark, and then handed them to his wife and children, who easily read out what had been written. That birch bark could talk, as he expressed it, was a mystery indeed.

  When the time came for Oowikapun to return to his home Memotas went with him quite a distance. He had become very much interested in him, and being a happy Christian himself, he was anxious that this man, who had come to him and been benefited physically, should hear about his soul’s need, and the great Physician who could heal all its diseases. Lovingly and faithfully he talked to him and urged him to accept of this great salvation. Then he asked him to kneel down with him, and there, alone with him and God, Memotas prayed earnestly that this dark pagan brother might yet come into the light of the blessed Gospel. Then he kissed him, and they parted, not to meet again for years.

  Happy would it have been for Oowikapun if he had responded to Memotas’s entreaties and become a Christian, but the heart is hard and blinded as well as deceitful, and the devil is cunning. So long, sad years passed by ere Oowikapun, after trying, as we shall see, other ways to find peace and soul comfort, humbled himself at the cross, and found peace in believing on the Lord Jesus Christ.

  Oowikapun returned to his little lodge, rekindled the fire, and tried to enter upon his hunting life where he had left off when wounded by the wolf. He stretched the furs already secured, and then early next morning visited his traps and spent the rest of the day hunting for deer. His success was not very great; the fact is, what he had heard and witnessed during the days of his sojourn in the wigwam of Memotas had given him so much food for thought that he was not concentrating his mind on his work in a manner that would bring success. He would sometimes get into a reverie so absorbing that he would stop in the trail and strive to think over and over again what he had heard about the good book and its teachings. Very suddenly one day was he roused out of one of these reveries. He had gone out to visit some traps which he had set in a place where he had noticed the tracks of wild cats. While going along through a dense forest with his gun strapped on his back he got so lost in thought that his naturally shrewd instincts as a hunter, sharpened by practice, seemed to have deserted him, and he nearly stumbled over a huge, old she bear and a couple of young cubs. With a growl of rage at being thus disturbed the fierce brute rushed at him, and quickly broke up his reverie and brought him back to a sense of present danger. To unstrap his gun in time for its successful use was impossible, but the ever-ready sharp pointed knife was available, and so Oowikapun, accustomed to such battles, although never before taken so unexpectedly, sprang back to the nearest tree, which fortunately for him was close at hand. With a large tree at his back, and a good knife in his hand, an experienced Indian has the advantage on his side and can generally kill his savage antagonist without receiving a wound, but if attacked by a black bear in the open plain, when armed with only a knife, the hunter very rarely kills his enemy without receiving a fearful hug or some dangerous wounds.

  One of the first bits of advice which an old, experienced Indian hunter gives to a young hunter, be he white or Indian, who goes out anxious to kill a bear, or who may possibly while hunting for other game be attacked by one, is to get his back up against a tree so large that if the bear is not killed by the bullet of his gun, he may be in the best possible position to fight him with his knife. It will be no child’s play, for a wounded, maddened bear is a fierce foe. The black bear’s method of trying to kill his human antagonist is quite different from that of the grizzly bear of the Rocky Mountains. The grizzly strikes out with his dreadful claws with such force that he can tear a man to pieces and is able to crush down a horse under his powerful blows, but the black bear tries to get the hunter in his long, strong, armlike fore legs, and then crush him to death. The hug of a bear, as some hunters know to their cost, is a warm, close embrace. Some who, by the quick, skillful use of their knives, or by the prompt arrival of a rescue party, have been rescued from the almost deathly hug, have told me how their ribs have been broken and their breastbones almost crushed in by the terrible embrace. I know of several who have been in such conflict, and although they managed to escape death by driving their knives into some vital spot, yet they had suffered so much from broken ribs and other injuries received, that they were never as strong and vigorous afterward. But with a good tree at his back, his trusty knife in his hand, and his brain cool, the advantage is all on the side of the hunter.

  Among the many stories told of such conflicts, there is one by a Canadian Indian which shows that even the women know how to successfully conquer in these encounters. This hunter was out looking for game, and had succeeded in killing a deer, which he left in the woods with his wife, skinning it, while he returned to his wigwam for his sled on which to drag it home, as it was a large one. It was in the spring of the year and there was still snow on the ground. A great, hungry bear that had just left his den after his long winter’s sleep of months, while prowling about looking for food, got on the scent of the blood of the newly killed deer, and following it up soon reached the spot where the Indian woman was skinning the animal. She had just time to spring up with the knife in her hand and back up against a tree before the half-famished brute sprang on the partly skinned animal and began devouring it. Seeing the woman so close, he seemed to think it best to get rid of her before eating his meat, so with a growl he rushed at her. He raised himself up on his hind legs and tried to get his fore paws around her, and thus crush her to death. She was a brave woman and knew what to do. Holding the knife firmly in her hand, she waited until his hot breath was in her face and he was trying to crowd his paws in between her back and the tree against which she was pressing herself with all her might, then with all her force she plunged the sharp pointed knife into his body in the region of his heart and gave it a quick, sharp turn. So thoroughly and well did she do her work that the great, fierce brute could only throw up his paws and fall over dead. The brave squaw had killed him without receiving a scratch herself, and when her husband returned with his sled he found that, not only had his wife skinned the deer, but also a big black bear.

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  Chapter Three.

  Oowikapun’s Vision.

  So Oowikapun, though taken off his guard for once, was soon himself again, and ere the infuriated brute could get her paws around him, one quick, vigorous thrust of his knife was sufficient; and his antagonist; armed only with teeth and cl
aws, lay dead before him. So sudden had been the attack, and so quickly had come the deliverance, that for the first time in his life Oowikapun offered up as well as he could words of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for his escape. In his own crude way and with the Indian’s naturally religious instinct and traditions, he had believed in the existence of a Good Spirit, which he called Kissa-Manito; and also in the existence of a bad spirit, whose name was Muche-Manito; but in what little worship he had engaged heretofore he had endeavoured to propitiate and turn away the malice of the evil spirit, rather than to worship the Good Spirit, in whom all Indians believe, but about whom he had very vague ideas until his visit to the Christian hunter’s wigwam. Now, however, even before he skinned the bear, as the result of that visit, he prayed to that Good Spirit, the giver of all his blessings, and was grateful for his deliverance. Would that he had continued trying to pray, even if he had received as yet but little instruction in the right way!

  He was glad to get the meat and skin of the bear and also the two little cubs, which he easily captured alive. Bending down some small trees, he tied the greater portion of the meat in the tops and then let them swing up again, as he could not carry much back with him in addition to the skin and the two frisky little bears. This plan of caching supplies in the tops of small trees, as the Indians call it, is almost the only way that things can be safely left in the woods where so many wild animals are prowling about. If the meat were put up in the branches of a large tree, the wolverines or wild cats would soon get on the scent of it, and being able to climb the trees, would quickly make short work of it. If buried in the ground, these animals, or perhaps the grey wolves, would soon get it; but bury it in the tops of the small trees which the animals cannot climb, and which they have not wit enough to cut down with their teeth, the cache is safe until the owner comes for it.

  Thus Oowikapun hunted until the season was almost ended; and then making a long light sled, he packed on it his furs and camping outfit, and the two little bears, which had become quite tame, and started out on his return journey to his far-away northern home. Loaded as he was, he saw it would take him several days to make the journey, and so he resolved to go a little out of his way and visit a village of Indians, at the meeting place of three rivers, and spend a little time with them, as they were of the same tribe as his own people, and some of them were distant relatives. Unfortunately for him they were in the midst of one of their superstitious dances. The dances and sacrifices of dogs were a kind of propitiatory offering to the Muche-Manito, the devil, to put him in good humour, so that he would not interfere with them and prevent their having great success in the coming spring hunt. Of course Oowikapun was invited to join in the dance, but much to their surprise he at first refused. This they could not understand, as in previous visits he had been eager to spring into the magic circle and display his agility and powers of endurance. When questioned as to his reasons for declining, he told them of his visit to the camp of Memotas and what he had heard and witnessed. They gathered around him and, Indianlike, patiently listened in silence until he had told them his story. Unfortunately it was not only received with incredulity, but with scorn. The men were astounded, and indignantly exclaimed: “So he lets his wife eat with him, does he? and cuts the wood himself, and carries the water and prays to the Kissa-Manito to bless his enemies, instead of trying to poison or shoot them! That is the white man’s religion, is it? which that Memotas has accepted. Well, let him keep it. It is not what we want. As our fathers lived and died so will we. Don’t be a fool, Oowikapun. You will be wanting one of our daughters one of these days to be your wife; then if you treat her like Memotas treats his, she will be coming back and telling our women all about it, and there will be a pretty fuss. O no; this will never do. You have had bad medicine thrown into your eyes, and you do not see straight.”

  Thus they answered him; and day after day they bantered him, until at length the poor fellow—anxious to follow the entreaties of Memotas, but as yet unconscious of the divine power which he might have had if only he had asked for it, and so lacking the strength to resist the entreaties of his heathen friends, especially when he heard from lying conjurers that even the black-eyed maidens were talking about his strange unwillingness to join in the religious ceremonies for success in the hunt—yielded to the tempter’s power, and sprang into the circle, and with wild abandon engaged in the dance. Madly and recklessly he danced to the monotonous drummings of the wicked old conjurers and medicine-men, who had been fearful that they were about to lose their grip upon him. A wild frenzy seemed to have entered into him, and so he danced on and on until even his hardened, stalwart frame could stand it no longer, and suddenly he fell upon the ground in a state of unconsciousness, and had to be carried away to a little wigwam, where on a bed of spruce branches he was left to recover consciousness when he might.

  Such occurrences among the Indians in their wild state when celebrating some of their religious ceremonies, such as this devil worship or their sun or ghost dances, were not at all uncommon. Wrought up to a state of frenzy, some of these devotees ceased not their wild dancings day or night, sometimes for three days continuously; and then when utterly exhausted fell into a deathly swoon, which often continued for many hours. In this sad plight was poor Oowikapun.

  For hours he remained more like a corpse than a living being, in a state of absolute unconsciousness, and without an apparent movement of either muscle or limb. After a time the mind began to act, and strange and distorted dreams and visions flitted through his disordered mind and troubled him. At first all was confusion and discord. Then there came to him something more like a vision than a dream, and so vividly was it impressed upon him that it was never forgotten.

  Here it is as told me years after. Oowikapun dreamed that he was one of a large company of his people who were on a long journey, which all had to take. It led them over high mountains and trackless plains, along swift rivers and across stormy lakes, through great forests, where fierce wild beasts were ever ready to spring upon them, and where quaking bogs were in the way to swallow up those who were for a moment off their guard. The company was constantly diminishing as they journeyed on, for the dangers were so many that death in various forms was constantly cutting them off. The survivors, full of sadness, and hurried on by some irresistible impulse, could not stop long in the way. All they could do was to give those who had fallen a hasty burial and then join in the onward march.

  Darker and darker became the sky, and worse and worse seemed the way; still they were impelled on and on. They had to cross the wide, stormy lakes, and in every one of them some of the party were lost. In every rough portage some fell fainting by the way, and sank down to rise no more. The crouching panther and the fierce wolves in the dense forests were ever on the alert, and many a man and woman, and even some of the little children, fell victims to these savage beasts. A feeling of sadness and despair seemed to take possession of all. Vainly they called upon the conjurers and medicine-men to get help from their Manitos to make the ways easier and their sorrows less, and to find out for them why they were travelling on this trail, and the place to which it led.

  Very unsatisfactory were the answers which they received. They had no information to give about the trail; yet some said that they had heard from their forefathers that there was a place called the happy hunting grounds beyond the high mountains; but the way was long and dark, and they had no guide to lead them in the gloom, none to tell them how they could find the passes in the mountains. While thus almost broken-hearted in the way, the thought came to Oowikapun in his dream or vision that surely there must be a better trail than this rough one, wherein so many of the people were perishing so sadly. With this thought in his mind he resolved, if possible, to break away from the company, and try to find a safer path. If he failed in his efforts and perished miserably in his search, why, what did it matter? They were dying off very rapidly where they were, and things could not be worse.

  Then if he succeeded
in finding a better road, where the skies were bright, and the storms came not, and the portages were short and easily passed, and the breezes on the lakes only wafted them on their way, and no savage beasts lurked along the trail, and he could find some one who had been over the way, or could tell him that it ended well, and if he could succeed in getting his people in this better path, how rejoiced he and they would be!

  Then it seemed in his dream that he made the effort to break away; but he told no one of what was in his heart or of his resolves, for he was afraid of being ridiculed by his comrades if he should try and then fail in his efforts. He found it very hard at first to get out from the old trail; but he persevered and succeeded, although but slowly at first. He found the way become smoother, and in some way which he could not understand help was being given him several times just when he needed it. Cheering words and sweet songs at times fell upon his ears, and made him forget that he was alone and footsore in this trying work; and once when his way led him over a great lake, and he was in a little boat in which it seemed impossible for him to reach the farther shore, and he was about to give up in despair, a strong, firm hand took the little helm, and soon he was safe at his landing place.