Читать книгу: «Little Folks of North America», страница 3

Many years ago the white people learned that salmon are plentiful in Alaska, so that now the Indians are busy, not only in getting the fish for themselves, but for the factories where tin boxes and casks are made by the hundreds and packed with the delicious fish which are sent to the people of the United States and elsewhere. Sometimes the children of the white men who are in the salmon business go to live in Alaska and there they see many a strange sight. They look with wonder at the half-naked Indian boys and girls, with their wild bright eyes. They watch with envy as the red children glide over the water in their light bark canoes, and race with one another on the rivers. They shudder at the hideous faces carved on the totem poles. They look on with delight at the dances and the odd games of their red neighbors, and they laugh when they hear of Mr. Bruin and his way of catching fish. They would rather not be alone, however, when the bear is creeping down through the woods to get his dinner. They think he might possibly prefer a white child to the delicate pink salmon, but in this they are quite mistaken.

Bears

The bears seem to know when the salmon arrive as well as the human beings do. They leave their homes in the woods and make their way down to the quiet little coves along the shore. When the fish come crowding in, out go the bears’ paws into the water, scooping in the salmon of which they are so fond. Mr. Bruin swallows one after another until he has had his fill; then he creeps away as quietly as he came, to seek safety once more among the trees of the forest. Sometimes, alas, the white hunter discovers the trail and follows the bear to the shore. Then bang! bang! sounds through the air and Bruin’s salmon feasts are over.

There are many bears in Alaska, – black, cinnamon, and in the far north the dangerous grizzly; but the red boy’s father teaches him that it is best not to kill these animals. He has an idea that the bear’s spirit will be angry and harm him if he does so. The white traders, however, want the skins and are willing to pay a good price for them, so the Indians sometimes go bear hunting, although after they meet with success, they go through strange rites, hoping thus to make peace with the bear’s spirit.

Whales and Sea Otters

As the children who live along the shores of Alaska look out to sea, they sometimes notice what appears to be a water spout, then another and another far away in the distance. It is the blowing of a school of whales, which have come up to the surface for fresh air. They run to tell the news to the older folks of the village, for nothing could be more delicious than a dinner of whale. The men get their lances ready at once and hurry down to their canoes. Then away they paddle with all their might in the direction in which the monsters have been seen.

If they succeed in coming upon the whales, there is busy and dangerous work for a while. The hunters must not think of fear as they draw near to the huge creatures to throw their spears in such a way as to inflict dangerous wounds. Then away they must paddle for dear life so as not to be swamped by the whales as they dive below. Before the men threw their lances they carefully fastened sealskin buoys to them. As the whales plunge after being wounded, these buoys on the surface make it hard for them to stay below and they are soon worn out. When the hunters have wounded a whale as much as possible, they go home and wait for the tide to bring the dead animal ashore. Then there is a great feast in the village and all make merry. Many years ago white men fitted out big ships to sail into the northern waters after whales. In those days the oil was burnt in lamps; but now, since kerosene is plentiful, whale-oil with its unpleasant odor is little used. Whale-bone, however, is still valuable, and for this reason many ships are still engaged hunting these monsters of the sea.

The Alaskan boys are ever on the watch for sea-otters. These shy creatures never leave the ocean, except when they have little ones to care for. Even then, it is said, the mother sea-otter sometimes chooses a bed of sea-weed out on the waves and there she floats, with her babes beside her. It is a curious sight. More curious still is it to see one of these huge creatures asleep on her back, floating along on the surface of the water, with her little ones held in her close embrace. A party of Indians often go on a sea-otter hunt, for the animal is covered with fine black fur, through which are scattered long white hairs. It is very beautiful, and the white traders are always willing to pay a large sum for a sea-otter skin.

The hunters must paddle quite a distance out to sea before they begin to look for an otter’s nose to appear above the surface of the water as the creature comes up to breathe. The moment it is seen, they swing their canoes around in a wide circle. Then, with spears in hand, they watch eagerly for the right moment to hurl them. Many days sometimes pass before the patient watchers are rewarded with even the sight of the longed-for prize, and even then the hunters may fail to secure it, yet it is worth all the time they spend, for the fur is among the richest and the rarest in the world. Indeed, the sea-otter is rarely found except in the waters which wash the shores of Alaska.

More than once an Indian child has tried to raise a sea-otter, but he has never succeeded, for he cannot make the little creature eat, and it soon starves to death.

Seal-Hunting

You remember that on the islands reaching out into the west from Alaska, many children are living who are neither Indians nor Eskimos. They are called Aleuts. Before the coming of the white people the Aleuts looked much like the Japanese, but afterwards the Russians married among them, so that many of their children to-day have lost much of the appearance of the yellow race.

Few trees grow around the homes of the Aleuts but enough wood drifts over from the forests of the mainland to furnish fuel for their fires. They live in dark, damp huts built mostly underground, so it is no wonder that they love best to be out-of-doors when the hills and the fields are covered with pretty grasses, mosses, and bright flowers in the summer time. Many blue foxes run wild through the islands and these are hunted by the men, for the fur is very valuable and the white traders are always ready to buy the skins.

The little Aleuts love the sea, where they paddle about in their light canoes, or fish in the clear waters. Northward from the Aleutian islands are two others called the Pribylov or Seal Islands. Thick fogs shut them in during the summer, while in the winter the shores are surrounded with drift ice. They are very important, however, because they are the greatest hunting grounds for seals in the whole world. The Aleuts are the only people who live on these islands, except for a few white men who oversee the work of killing the seals. The villages are scattered here and there, close to the sea, each with its church and its school-house, and during the winter the little Aleuts pass their time quietly in play and study.

But when the spring comes, they are full of excitement, as they watch the seals, big and little, old and young, gather on their shores. No one knows how far these creatures have traveled, nor in what distant waters they have passed the winter. Come they do, however, by hundreds and thousands, and on the shores of these islands the baby seals are born. They are graceful little creatures, and play and frolic together like kittens. When they are born they are quite blind, but they begin to see after a few days. When they are about six weeks old their mother leads them down to the water for their first swim. At first they are afraid, but their mother coaxes and urges them on, so that in a short time they are able to swim about with ease. Before long they enjoy this new water-life as much as their fathers and mothers do, and are soon able to hunt for the small fishes and kelp which are the seals’ principal food. The hunting season lasts about six weeks, and begins early in June, soon after the arrival of the seals. The men arm themselves with clubs, and then drive the seals up into a cleared space away from the shore, where the animals are helpless, because they are clumsy and move slowly when out of the water. A single blow on the seal’s head is enough to end his life, and to give the hunter the beautiful soft skin he wishes.

Year after year goes around and each summer brings herds of seals to these islands, with no understanding that thousands of their number are coming only to die at the hands of the hunters. Sometimes the Indian boys catch baby seals and keep therm for pets. They are gentle little creatures, and soon learn to love their young masters, and to follow them about. They bark much like puppies and are often taught to do tricks.

Hunting in Alaska

The Indian boys of Alaska could tell you many stories about the wild animals they hunt with their fathers. There are martens, with their soft brown fur, black and silver foxes, beavers, muskrats, mountain-goats, moose, deer, otter and many others which roam in great numbers over the hills and through the valleys. The Yukon River, one of the largest in the world, is the most important one in Alaska, and through the country on either side of it the wild animals are found in great numbers. The hunters get many of them in traps. There, on the banks of that great river, hundreds of canvas-back ducks lay their eggs on the platforms of grass and twigs which they build on the low marshes, and the Indian children go in parties to hunt for their eggs and the baby ducklings.

The older boys trap many a fox and musk-rat, whose skins they proudly give to their fathers who will sell them to the white traders, and get sugar, tea, and blankets in exchange. They spend hours in hunting along the banks of the stream for beaver villages, and taking these little creatures unawares.

The Gold Mines

Not many years ago it was found that not only furs and salmon could be obtained in Alaska, but in some places the rocks were rich with precious gold. The Treadmill gold-mine is one of the most valuable in the world. The men who work there do not have to leave the sunlight and dig far down under the earth, for the mine, or rather quarry, is above ground, and there the workers are kept busy, breaking away the masses of rock which are afterwards crushed in heavy stamps, to separate the gold from the quartz. When darkness falls, electric lights make everything as bright as day. There are more than two hundred of these stamps at the Treadmill mine, so you can imagine that when all are at work crushing the great masses of rock, the noise is enough to deafen one’s ears.

As the gold is separated, it is made up into bricks, each one of which is worth between fifteen and eighteen thousand dollars! These bricks are afterwards sent in ship loads to the mint at San Francisco.

Sitka

On an island off the southern shore of Alaska, lies Sitka, the capital of the territory. It was built long ago when the Russians owned the country, and even now you may visit the moss-grown Castle, where the governors always lived. There they held many a feast and dance, to which the savage Indian chiefs from the country around were sometimes invited. Fine glass and silver, which had come all the way from Russia, sparkled at these feasts. Grand ladies in silks and satins laughed and chatted beneath the soft light of hundreds of candles, trying perhaps to forget their longing for home.

Now that Alaska belongs to the United States, many things have been done to make Sitka healthful and comfortable. The new governors chose Indians for policemen. Very grand they must have thought themselves when they first put on their blue uniforms, with gilt letters on their caps and silver stars on their breasts.

Among other wise things, the governor made the law, that the children must go to school. Now, there were many Indians in Sitka, and they did not understand what a fine thing it is to have learning. But the governor directed that all the houses must be numbered. Not only this, but each child of the house was given a number, and this was stamped on a tiny, round plate which he was obliged to wear on a string tied around his neck. He had to show this number to the school-teacher and in this way one could keep track of him.

Whenever an excursion steamer enters the harbor, the people of Sitka make ready for a holiday, while the Indians hasten to get out their blankets to sell to the visitors. Many people travel in Alaska in the summer time, on purpose to see the wonderful sights there, – the high mountains covered with snow, the valleys filled with flowers, the wild Indians, the strange huts before which the totem poles rise high in the air; but most interesting of all are the glaciers, whose beginning is far up in the snow-covered mountains. Slowly but surely, they make their way down to the sea, growing larger as other and smaller glaciers join themselves to them. There is a certain bay in Alaska which the summer visitors are sure to visit if they can possibly do so. It is called Glacier Bay, because of an immense glacier which enters it. Imagine yourself on a steamer entering this bay on a bright sunshiny day of mid-summer. Yet you shiver, for the air begins to grow colder and colder. It is no wonder, for icebergs meet your eyes on every side. They are clear as crystal and are lighted with the most beautiful colors, – delicate pinks and blues. As you look, you fancy that they have the shapes of different animals or of grand castles. Some of them, indeed, seem like great lonely beings. From time to time flocks of birds pass overhead and light on the bergs for a short rest.

Whence did these bergs come, and whither are they drifting so slowly? You look ahead and there before you is the Muir glacier entering the sea. As you draw nearer it seems like a mighty fortress. The captain of the steamer tells you that its face is three miles wide, and that all these icebergs, among which the ship has to be steered so carefully, have broken away from this one glacier. He does not dare to carry his passengers too near, for some time, without any warning, a fresh berg may break away. As it plunges into the bay, with a noise like thunder, it will stir the waters into an angry whirlpool.

There are many other glaciers in Alaska, but this one is the largest and the most wonderful of them all. Geysers and volcanos are also to be found in the country. One of the mountains, named Mt. McKinley, is the highest peak in North America. Another, Mt. Elias, rises almost out of the ocean, and its cloak of snow and ice reaches nearly to its base. When boys and girls wish to travel where they can see many strange and wonderful sights, they would do well to take a summer’s trip to Alaska, – the land of gold and fur, of waterfalls, geysers and glaciers.

CHAPTER IV
Little Folks of Canada

The First White Settlers

If you look at the map of North America, you will find that nearly the whole upper half, with the exception of Alaska, bears the name of the Dominion of Canada. Its northern shores are bathed by the cold waters of the Arctic Ocean. On the east is the great Atlantic, and on the west is the stormy Pacific. The boys and girls who live in this vast country can travel for hundreds of miles along mighty rivers; they can sail on lakes so great that they may lose sight of land and grow seasick from the motion of the boat as it moves through the waves; they can climb high mountains capped with snow in the hottest summer weather; they can wander over vast prairies for days and even weeks at a time with no view of anything as far as the eye can see, save miles and miles of grass; they can lose themselves in thick forests where only wild animals and Indian hunters have ever ventured before. All these things are possible for the Canadian child without moving out of the land which he calls home.

Once upon a time, less than fifty years after Columbus discovered the New World, a brave Frenchman named Jacques Cartier left his sunny home in France, and sailed into the west. The king of France had heard of the wonderful land which Columbus had discovered, and which the Spaniards had begun to settle. He wished to have some part of it for himself, so he directed Cartier to go farther north than the Spaniards had done. When he reached a good place for a home, he was to land and set up the flag of France.

Cartier, with two ships, each of which bore sixty-one men, set out. They crossed the ocean and arrived on the coast of a large island. Its shores were still blocked with ice, although it was the month of April. To-day we know this island as Newfoundland or New-found-land. The Frenchmen were not pleased with the country, for it looked bare and rocky. When they landed, they were met by savages with red skins and black hair tied on the top of their heads, “Like a wreath of hay,” as Carter said. He was quite sure that this was not a fit place for a home; so the ships were turned northward. They soon entered a large gulf which received the name of the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

On the shores of this gulf the white men were also met by Indians, whose homes were their upturned canoes. The savages wore little or no clothing; they lived on fish and flesh that was scarcely cooked; they seemed poor and very savage. The country, which was the mainland of Canada, looked pleasant, and Carter set up a tall cross and took possession of it in the name of France. He induced the Indian chief to allow his two sons to go back to France with him. Then he set sail for home, eager to tell his friends of the land he had visited.

The next year Cartier returned to Canada with a goodly company. They entered the gulf of St. Lawrence, as they had done before, but they sailed on until they came to the mouth of a wide river.

“It flows from afar off,” said the two Indians who had gone to France with Cartier, and who had returned with him. “No man has ever seen its beginning,” they continued.

“Perhaps,” thought Cartier, who had no idea how vast was the new land that he had discovered, “it is not a river. It is so broad and so deep, it may be an arm of the ocean, and if I follow it, I may find the short way to India, about which so many have dreamed.”

So he and his men kept on their way up the St. Lawrence River, stopping from time to time to admire the beautiful country and the wonderful sights that met them on every hand. Wild grape vines hung from the trees along the banks, and the delicious fruit was even now ripening. Water-fowls flew over their heads, and they got glimpses of wild animals such as they had never seen before. Most interesting of all were the little Indian villages scattered here and there along the shore.

From one of the settlements Cartier was passing, the people came out in their canoes to get a better sight of the white men, but they were afraid to come close to the ships, till Cartier’s two young Indian friends spoke to them and told them not to fear. Then they came on board and listened to the story of the visit the two Indian youths had made in France, and of the wonderful things that had happened to them. The Indians were now quite sure that the strangers meant only good to them, and that there was nothing to fear.

They hastened to bring presents to the visitors and show friendship in every way that they knew. Cartier did not stay long in the place, however. He sailed on till he came to a fine harbor beneath steep, high cliffs. An Indian village stood here. To-day it is the site of the city of Quebec.

“Farther on, up the river, is a still larger town of our people, and it is ruled over by a very powerful chief,” the Indians there told him.

“But the way is long and dangerous,” added their own chief. “You had better not go there.”

When he said this, he was thinking of the store of knives, bright-colored beads, and tiny looking-glasses the white men had shown him. A few of these strange and beautiful things had been given to him. He could not bear to think of that other chief also receiving some.

But Cartier was not to be frightened. He set sail once more and for thirteen days the ships kept on their way up the river. From time to time they stopped at Indian villages where the red children and their parents came dancing about them, bringing presents of fruit and fish. The savages told many stories about the country beyond; gold and precious stones were to be found there, and there were strange beings who lived without food. Still Cartier traveled on until he reached a village of at least fifty huts.

There was a three-fold wall of stakes around it, and fields where leaves of corn were waving in the autumn wind. Behind this village was a hill which Cartier called Mount Royal. To-day, in the very spot where the Indian village once stood, is the large city of Montreal, the most important one in the country. Cartier and his men stayed in Canada for several months. They built two forts on the banks of the St. Lawrence; they made gardens, and marked out a road. They were of good heart until the long, cold winter was upon them, longer and colder than they had ever known. Many grew homesick with longing for sunny France; others fell ill. At last they decided to give up the settlement and to return home.

After that French ships visited Canada from time to time. They stopped to get loads of furs which the Indians were glad to sell, but no one came to settle in the country for many years.

At last the king of France said to himself, “I cannot hold the land on the other side of the ocean, unless I send people there to settle, and it is worth while to keep it because of the furs we can get in trade from the Indian hunters.”

He sent over a colony of settlers who came sailing one bright day into the harbor of Port Royal. They landed on the beautiful shore and were soon busy building a chapel and a fort, as well as homes for themselves. A good priest came with them. He was so kind and gentle that even the savages loved him, and were quite willing to listen to the stories that he told them of a heavenly Father, and Jesus, the Savior of men.

The Explorer Champlain

Among the settlers was the brave Champlain, who advised building a fort above the steep cliffs under which Cartier had anchored his ships years before. Workmen were soon at work on a fort, a chapel, and homes for the settlers. It was the beginning of the strong fortress and city of Quebec.

After these first settlers, came other Frenchmen and their families, and before many years, the red children and the white were playing merrily together.

“You must love each other,” the gentle French priest had told them. “Though you are of different races, yet you are the children of the one Father.”

So it was that the sons and daughters of the Frenchmen grew up with no fear of the little savages. Why, their priests often went to live in the Indian villages, that they might better show their friendship. Indians were often invited to feasts held in the white men’s homes and joined in their sports. Moreover, the children’s own relatives often chose Indian maidens for their wives, and were very happy with them. And because of this last, there came in time to be many people in Canada who were called halfbreeds, as they were partly French and partly Indian.

The Coming of the English

Many years passed quietly by. The French people in Canada lived peacefully with their red neighbors. They built trading stations out in the country, and here furs were brought in great numbers by the Indian hunters. Forts were also built along the banks of the St. Lawrence, and still farther into the wilderness, on the shores of the Five Great Lakes, which separate Canada from the United States.

The French explorers and priests went even farther, for they made their way from these lakes down into the United States, never stopping till they had sailed the whole length of the Mississippi River. Everywhere they went they planted the French flag and claimed the country in the name of the king across the ocean. Now, the English, who had settled on the southern side of the Great Lakes, did not like the idea of the French becoming so powerful in North America; thus it came about after a while that there were wars between the two peoples.

The Indians of Canada took the part of their French friends. Terrible battles were fought; brave soldiers were killed; cruel deeds were done to women and little children by the savage Indians. Years passed by and the troubles did not come to an end. It seemed as though there was no way of settling matters and making peace.

All this time a little boy was growing up in England. His name was James Wolfe. He was delicate and sickly, yet his bright, clear eyes showed that he had a strong will. He longed with all his heart to be a soldier. And soldier he became, though it seemed as if he would never be able to bear such a hard life.

When he was only sixteen he fought for his country in Flanders. He soon showed how brave he was, and became a high officer in the army. He was sent to America to fight against the French and Indians. If he could only get to Quebec, he thought. It was the strongest fortress of all the enemy held. But that seemed impossible, for no one dreamed that an army could scale the steep crags above which the fortress was built.

Yet Wolfe kept thinking, thinking. By this time he was the commander of a whole fleet of English ships. At last there came a day when he sailed boldly up the St. Lawrence, and landed his men on the shore opposite to Quebec. He set up great cannons which should fire upon the fortress across the river. The siege began. In the midst of it heavy rain fell; Wolfe and many of his men became ill. Though he was burning with fever he still kept planning. One day, as he looked through his telescope, he saw something that he had never noticed before. It was a narrow path, – O, so very narrow – that wound in and out, yet ever upward, to the top of the crags that guarded Quebec.

He said to himself, “My men and I shall climb that path and take the fortress by surprise.”

Soon afterwards, on a dark night, they did climb it. Wolfe himself rose from his sick bed and led them. As the sun rose the next morning the English army appeared on the Plains of Abraham, behind the fort, and one of the great battles of the world was fought. Before night fell, Quebec was in the hands of the English. Both Wolfe, and Montcalm, the French commander were killed. Henceforth, not only Quebec, but all Canada would be ruled over by the English.

Henry Hudson and the Great Lone Land

It was in the year 1610, that a brave seaman named Henry Hudson, sailed northward along the shores of North America. He had already discovered the Hudson River in the United States, and traded with the Indians there for furs. He had tried to find a short way to India but had failed. Now he hoped by going still farther he might yet discover it. On and still on he sailed till he entered a large bay on the northern shore of Canada, which ever since has been called Hudson Bay. Here, in the midst of ice and snow, he and his men were obliged to pass the winter. There was little to eat, and it was bitter cold.

His men blamed him for bringing them to such suffering, and at last rose against him. They set him adrift in a small boat, with his young son and a few faithful followers. Then, leaving him to die of cold and hunger, they sailed for home, to tell of the large bay that had been discovered, and of the wild country around it. As time went by other Englishmen visited Hudson Bay, but they had no wish to stay long in its icy waters or on its lonely shores.

At last, however, a number of English merchants formed themselves into the Hudson Bay company.

They said, “We will send men to North America who shall build forts along the shore of Hudson Bay. They shall buy furs of the Indians, and send them to us here in England. The furs of the wild animals there are rich and beautiful, and will bring us riches.”

In this way it came about that English ships brought to Canada men who at once set to work building forts and trading stations in the neighborhood of the bay discovered by Henry Hudson. They had with them knives and hatchets, beads and bright colored blankets, – everything that an Indian might wish in exchange for his furs. They treated the red men kindly, for they wanted to trade peaceably with them, but at the same time they kept their guns ready in case of an attack by the savages.

Alexander Mackenzie and his long Journey

Even after the English had won the country for themselves, they did not know how large it was, for no one had explored the country from north to south or from east to west. At last a brave Scotchman named Alexander Mackenzie came to settle in Canada. He was fond of adventure and liked nothing better than roaming for miles through the wilderness, hunting the wild animals in the forest, and skimming over the lakes and down the streams in an Indian canoe. He visited many a settlement where the red children had never before looked upon a white man; he discovered rivers and lakes of which the French and English knew nothing before. He arrived in his wanderings on the shore of the Great Slave Lake in the very heart of the country. A large river flowed out of it. Where did it go, and how far? The Indians could not tell him.

At the beginning of the summer, he set out with a small party of white men and an Indian guide. At first it was very pleasant paddling down the river in their canoes, but after a few days they came to rapids. Then they had to take to the land and carry their canoes and their supplies on their shoulders. As they traveled onward they came to still other rapids which stopped their course again and again.

The farther north they traveled, the colder it became. The days were much longer, too, for it was nearing mid-summer. It seemed very strange to them to have the midnight as bright as daylight. The wild animals were scarce now.