Long diet of salt pork, and that
Lynx furnished them tender meat for three days afterward; while
its skin and skull went to the American Museum.
On the night of May 20, we camped just above Grand Rapids - Preble
and I alone, for the first time, under canvas, and glad indeed
to get away from the noisy rabble of the boatmen, though now they
were but a quarter mile off. At first I had found them amusing
and picturesque, but their many unpleasant habits, their distinct
aversion to strangers, their greediness to get all they could out
of one, and do nothing in return, combined finally with their habit
of gambling all night to the loud beating of a tin pan, made me
thankful to quit their company for a time.
At Grand Rapids the scows were unloaded, the goods shipped over
a quarter-mile hand tramway, on an island, the scows taken down a
side channel, one by one, and reloaded. This meant a delay of three
or four days, during which we camped on the island and gathered
specimens.
Being the organizer, equipper, geographer, artist, head, and tail of
the expedition, I was, perforce, also its doctor. Equipped with a
"pill-kit," an abundance of blisters and bandages and some "potent
purgatives," I had prepared myself to render first and last aid to
the hurt in my own party. In taking instructions from our family
physician, I had learned the value of a profound air of great
gravity, a noble reticence, and a total absence of doubt, when I
did speak. I compressed his creed into a single phrase: "In case of
doubt, look wise and work on his 'bowels.'" This simple equipment
soon gave me a surprisingly high standing among the men. I was
a medicine man of repute, and soon had a larger practice than I
desired, as it was entirely gratuitous.
The various boatmen, Indians and half-breeds, came with their
troubles, and, thanks chiefly to their faith, were cured. But one
day John MacDonald, the chief pilot and a mighty man on the river,
came to my tent on Grand Island. John complained that he couldn't
hold anything on his stomach; he was a total peristaltic wreck indeed
(my words; his were more simple and more vivid, but less sonorous
and professional). He said he had been going down hill for two
weeks, and was so bad now that he was "no better than a couple of
ordinary men."
"Exactly so," I said. "Now you take these pills and you'll be all
right in the morning." Next morning John was back, and complained
that my pills had no effect; he wanted to feel something take hold
of him. Hadn't 1 any pepper-juice or brandy?
I do not take liquor on an expedition, but at the last moment
a Winnipeg friend had given me a pint flask of pure brandy - "for
emergencies." An emergency had come.
"John! you shall have some extra fine brandy, nicely thinned with
pepper-juice." I poured half an inch of brandy into a tin cup, then
added half an inch of "pain-killer."
"Here, take this, and if you don't feel it, it means your insides
are dead, and you may as well order your coffin."
John took it at a gulp. His insides were not dead; but I might have
been, had I been one of his boatmen.
He doubled up, rolled around, and danced for five minutes. He did
not squeal - John never squeals - but he suffered some, and an hour
later announced that he was about cured.
Next day he came to say he was all right, and would soon again be
as good as half a dozen men.
At this same camp in Grand Rapids another cure on a much larger
scale was added to my list. An Indian had "the bones of his foot
broken," crushed by a heavy weight, and was badly crippled. He
came leaning on a friend's shoulder. His foot was blackened and much
swollen, but I soon satisfied myself that no bones were broken,
because he could wriggle all the toes and move the foot in any
direction.
"You'll be better in three days and all right in a week," I said,
with calm assurance. Then I began with massage. It seemed necessary
in the Indian environment to hum some tune, and I found that the
"Koochy-Koochy" lent itself best to the motion, so it became my
medicine song.
With many "Koochy-Koochy"-ings and much ice-cold water he was
nearly cured in three days, and sound again in a week. But in the
north folk have a habit (not known elsewhere) of improving the
incident. Very soon it was known all along the river that the Indian's
leg was broken, and I had set and healed it in three days. In a
year or two, I doubt not, it will be his neck that was broken, not
once, but in several places.
Grand Island yielded a great many Deermice of the arctic form, a
few Red-backed Voles, and any number of small birds migrant.
As we floated down the river the eye was continually held by tall
and prominent spruce trees that had been cut into peculiar forms
as below. These were known as "lob-sticks," or "lop-sticks," and
are usually the monuments of some distinguished visitor in the
country or records of some heroic achievement. Thus, one would be
pointed out as Commissioner Wrigley's lob-stick, another as John
MacDonald's the time he saved the scow.
The inauguration of a lob-stick is quite a ceremony. Some person
in camp has impressed all with his importance or other claim to
notice. The men, having talked it over, announce that they have
decided on giving him a lob-stick.
