Richmond grunted and shook his head, as if he had thought it a cockamamie idea from the start.
By 10 a.m., the party had spent all of three and a half hours in the company of the Red Indians. Buchan sat with the tall chief and drew a rough map in the dirt and used gestures to indicate his wish to return to the place where the gifts had been left and to carry these up to the lake. The white men stood and made ready to leave and the chief pointed to himself and two of his companions to indicate they would accompany the party. When this became clear, Corporal Bouthland requested permission to remain with the Indians as it would allow him to make repairs to his rackets. Private Butler volunteered to stay behind with him.
They reached their previous night’s camp at the riverhead before noon, and seeing nothing in the nature of goods or gifts as had been intimated by Buchan, the tall chief left to return to the lake but sent the other two on with the white men. They found the river opened, which made for difficult going on the narrow fringe of ice that remained at the shoreline, and the group marched in single file to navigate their way. One of the Indians walked ahead of Buchan and the second followed behind the party. By mid-afternoon, they came within sight of the fire kept by the remainder of Buchan’s expedition and the two Indians pointed and carried on a brief conversation and within minutes the man at the back of the group turned and fled towards the lake.
“He’s running,” Reilly shouted and the entire group stopped and turned upriver.
Taylor said he was still within half a musket shot, but Buchan ordered everyone to lower their rifles. He gestured to the last Indian to tell him he was free to join his companion but he did not and the party continued on to the sledge camp where he was presented with a pair of trousers and vamps and a flannel shirt. He changed out of his leather cassock and leggings and was so pleased with his new dress that he shook hands again with each man in the party. Buchan also showed him the store of blankets, woollen wrappers, shirts, beads, knives and other goods, and indicated they were all to be carried to the lake.
They sat to a meal of cocoa and salt fish and the white men carried on a conversation of worry and discontent while maintaining a cordial appearance towards their guest. Cull and Hughster were of the belief that the Indian who’d left them after sighting the fire may have come away with the impression that a party of men were secreted here to take them captive or kill them.
Buchan nodded. “I share your concerns,” he said, “but the presence of this individual,” and he gestured towards the Indian with his chin and smiled broadly when he met the man’s gaze, “is insurance enough for the lives of Butler and Bouthland. The good treatment he continues to receive will speak against any rumours currently being spread by his companion.” He stooped to the fire and lifted the kettle clear and poured more hot water for himself and for their Red Indian guest.
They woke next morning to a storm of sleet and blowing snow with wind out of the northeast. Buchan left eight men at the camp and the rest lowered their heads and pushed on into the bleak weather, walking single file up the river. Once they reached the lake the Indian ran ahead of the group at points and returned to walk with the lieutenant. Within half a mile of the mamateeks he pointed to an arrow sticking up out of the snow on the ice. There was a recent sledge track nearby.
They reached the Red Indian’s camp at 2 p.m. and found it deserted. The shelters had been left in a state of disarray. Everything of any value or use was taken from them but for a few caribou hides and a row of long shank bones hanging from the rafters.
A fire was recovered from the coals of the firepit in the largest mamateek and the men set about drying their boots and stockings. They boiled the marrow out of one of the caribou shanks to make a broth. There was very little conversation. The Indian seemed not to understand what had happened in this place or why. While the others ate he moved about the mamateek to tidy and set it in order as if to say he expected his people to return shortly. Several times he pointed in the direction of the opposite shore, which the white men took to indicate where he thought they had gone. The gesture was accompanied by a strained, peculiar laughter.
“That bugger’s a bit queer, I’d say,” Richmond said.
Tom Taylor shrugged. “I’d be maze-headed meself if I was in his place.”