Is this then the secret of its disappearance? and is it on these
far breeding grounds that man has proved too hard?
At Lobstick Point, 2 P. M., October 13, the tug turned back and
we three continued our journey as before, Preble and Billy taking
turns at tracking the canoe.
Next day we reached Fort McKay and thus marked another important
stage of the journey.
CHAPTER XLIII
FORT McKAY AND JIAROBIA
Fort McKay was the last point at which we saw the Chipewyan style
of teepee, and the first where the Cree appeared. But its chief
interest to us lay in the fact that it was the home of Jiarobia, a
capable river-man who wished to go to Athabaska Landing. The first
thing that struck us about Jiarobia - whose dictionary name by the
way is Elzear Robillard - was that his house had a good roof and
a large pile of wood ready cut. These were extremely important
indications in a land of improvidence. Robillard was a thin, active,
half-breed of very dark skin. He was willing to go for $2.00 a day
the round-trip (18 days) plus food and a boat to return with. But
a difficulty now appeared; Madame Robillard, a tall, dark half-breed
woman, objected: "Elzear had been away all summer, he should stay
home now." "If you go I will run off into the backwoods with the
first wild Indian that wants a squaw," she threatened. "Now," said
Rob, in choice English, "I am up against it." She did not understand
English, but she could read looks and had some French, so I took
a hand.
"If Madame will consent I will advance $15.00 of her husband's pay
and will let her select the finest silk handkerchief in the Hudson's
Bay store for a present."
In about three minutes her Cree eloquence died a natural death;
she put a shawl on her head and stepped toward the door without
looking at me. Rob, nodded to me, and signed to go to the Hudson's
Bay store; by which I inferred that the case was won; we were going
now to select the present. To my amazement she turned from all the
bright-coloured goods and selected a large black silk handkerchief.
The men tell me it is always so now; fifty years ago every woman
wanted red things. Now all want black; and the traders who made
the mistake of importing red have had to import dyes and dip them
all.
Jiarobia, or, as we mostly call him, "Rob," proved most amusing
character as well as a "good man" and the reader will please note
that nearly all of my single help were "good men." Only when I had
a crowd was there trouble.
