After another refusal added some valuable furs and more meat
till one hundred dollars worth was piled up.
Again the answer was "no."
Then did that Indian offer the lodge and everything he had in it,
including his wife. But the trader was obdurate.
"Why didn't you take it," said the friend whom he told of the
affair; "the stuff would have netted five hundred dollars, and all
for one flask of whiskey."
"Not much," said the trader, "it was my last flask I wouldn't 'a'
had a drop for myself. But it just shows, how fond these Indians
are of whiskey."
While some of the Chipewyans show fine physique, and many do great
feats of strength and endurance, they seem on the whole inferior
to whites.
Thus the strongest portager on the river is said to be Billy
Loutit's brother George. At Athabaska Landing I was shown a house
on a hill, half a mile away, to which he had carried on his back
450 pounds of flour without stopping. Some said it was only 350
pounds, but none made it less. As George is only three-quarters
white, this is perhaps not a case in point. But during our stay
at Fort Smith we had several athletic meets of Indians and whites,
the latter represented by Preble and the police boys, and no matter
whether in running, walking, high jumping, broad jumping, wrestling,
or boxing, the whites were ahead.
As rifle-shots, also, the natives seem far inferior. In the matter
of moose-hunting only, as already noted, the red-man was master.
This, of course, is a matter of life-long training. A white man
brought up to it would probably do as well as an Indian even in
this very Indian department.
These tribes are still in the hunting and fishing stage; they make
no pretence of agriculture or stockraising. Except that they wear
white man's clothes and are most of them nominally Roman Catholics,
they live as their fathers did 100 years ago. But there is one
remarkable circumstance that impressed me more and more - practically
every Chipewyan reads and writes his own language.
This miracle was inborn on me slowly. On the first Buffalo hunt we
had found a smoothened pole stuck in the ground by the trail. It
was inscribed as herewith.
"What is that Sousi?" "It's a notice from Chief William that Swiggert
wants men on the portage," and he translated it literally: "The fat
white man 5 scows, small white man 2 scows, gone down, men wanted
for Rapids, Johnnie Bolette this letter for you. (Signed) Chief
William."
Each of our guides in succession had shown a similar familiarity
with the script of his people, and many times we found spideresque
characters on tree or stone that supplied valuable information.
They could, however tell me nothing of its age or origin, simply
"We all do it; it is easy."
At Fort Resolution I met the Jesuit fathers and got the desired
chance of learning about the Chipewyan script.
First, it is not a true alphabet, but a syllabic; not letters, but
syllables, are indicated by each character; 73 characters are all
that are needed to express the whole language. It is so simple
and stenographic that the fathers often use it as a rapid way of
writing French. It has, however, the disadvantage of ambiguity at
times. Any Indian boy can learn it in a week or two; practically
all the Indians use it. What a commentary on our own cumbrous and
illogical spelling, which takes even a bright child two or three
years to learn!
Now, I already knew something of the Cree syllabic invented by
the Rev. James Evans, Methodist missionary on Lake Winnipeg in the
'40s, but Cree is a much less complex language; only 36 characters
are needed, and these are so simple that an intelligent Cree can
learn to write his own language in one day.
In support, of this astounding statement I give, first, the 36
characters which cover every fundamental sound in their language
and then a sample of application. While crude and inconcise, it
was so logical and simple that in a few years the missionary had
taught practically the whole Cree nation to read and write. And
Lord Dufferin, when the matter came before him during his north-west
tour, said enthusiastically: "There have been men buried in
Westminster Abbey with national honours whose claims to fame were
far less than those of this devoted missionary, the man who taught
a whole nation to read and write."
These things I knew, and now followed up my Jesuit source of
information.
"Who invented this?"
"I don't know for sure. It is in general use."
"Was it a native idea?"
"Oh, no; some white man made it."
"Where? Here or in the south?"
"It came originally from the Crees, as near as we can tell."
"Was it a Cree or a missionary that first thought of it?"
"I believe it was a missionary."
"Frankly, now, wasn't it invented in 1840 by Rev. James Evans,
Methodist missionary to the Crees on Lake Winnipeg?"
Oh, how he hated to admit it, but he was too honest to deny it.
"Yes, it seems to me it was some name like that. 'Je ne sais pas.'"
Reader, take a map of North America, a large one, and mark off the
vast area bounded by the Saskatchewan, the Rockies, the Hudson Bay,
and the Arctic circle, and realise that in this region, as large
as continental Europe outside of Russia and Spain, one simple,
earnest man, inspired by the love of Him who alone is perfect
love, invented and popularised a method of writing that in a few
years - in less than a generation, indeed - has turned the whole native
population from ignorant illiterates to a people who are proud to
read and write their own language.
