The Press.
London, England, 1855-11-24 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

rounded us. Not a moment was to be lost ; delay would
be fatal, and nothing now seemed to remain for us but to
sell our lives as dearly as possible. With this impression,
srasping a pistol, I advanced a step towards the villain who
held the knife, with the full determination of putting an
end to his career before any of us should fall; but while in
the act of lifting my foot and moving my arm, a second
idea flashed across my mind, admonishing me to soothe,
and not provoke, the Indians, that Providence might yet
make a way for us to escape : this thought saved the
Indian's life, and ours too. Instead of drawing the pistol,
as I intended, I took a knife from my belt, such as travel-
lers generally use in this country, and presented it to him,
saying, " Here, my friend, is a chiefs knife, I give it to
you ; that is not a chiefs knife, give it back to the man."
Fortunately, he took mine in his hand ; but, still sullen
and savage, he said nothing. The moment was a critical
one ; our fate hung as by a thread : 1 shall never forget it !
All the bystanders had their eyes now fixed on the chief,
thoughtful and silent as he stood ; we also stood motion-
less, not knowing what a moment migl,t bring forth. At
last the savage handed the man his knife, and turning
mine round and round for some time in his hands, turned

.....
to his people, holding up the knife in his hand, exclaimed,
" She-augh Me-yokat Waltz "—Look, my friends, at the
chiefs knife : these words he repeated over and over again.
He was delighted. The Indians flocked round him : all
admired the toy, and in the excess of his joy he harangue 41
the multitude in our favour. Fickle, indeed, are stivngea I
They were now no longer enemies, but friends ! Several
others, following Eyticktima's example, harangued in
turn, all in favour of the whites. This done, the great
men squatted themselves down, and the pipe of peace was
called for.

Such are savages, as fickle as the wind, but
rarely above being pacified if no revenge lurks
iu their mind.

Whoever has watched a couple of wolves
attack a horse, or wild dogs attack their prey,
will admit the graphic truth of this desciip-

tion:—

Two large wolves, such as I have mentioned, are suffi-
cient to destroy the most powerful horse, and seldom more
than two ever begin the assault, although there may be a
score in the gang. It is no less curious than amusing to
witness their ingenious mode of attack.
If there is no snow, or but little, on the ground, two
wolves approach in the most playful and caressing manner,
lying, rolling, and frisking about, until the too credulous
and unsuspecting victim is completely put off his guard by
curiosity and familiarity. During this time the gang,
squatted on their hind quarters, look on at a distance.
After some time spent in this way, the two assailants sepa-
rate, when one approaches the horse's head, the other his
tail, with a slyness and cunning peculiar to themselves.
At this stage of the attack their frolicksome approaches
become very interesting—it is in right good earnest ; the
formeris a mere decoy, the latter is the real assailant, and
keeps his eyes steadily tired on the ham-strings or flank of
the horse. 'fhe critical moment is then watched, and the
attack is simu'taneous ; both wolves spring at their
victim the same instant, one to the throat, the other to the
flank, and if successful, which they generally are, the hind
one never lets go his hold till the horse is completely dis-
abled. Instead of springing fcrward or kicking to disen-
gage himself, the horse turns round and round without
attempting a defence. The wolf before, then springs
behind, to assist the other. The sinews are cut, and in
half the time I have been describing it the horse is on his
side ; his struggles are fruitless : the victory is won. At
this signal the Lookers-on close in at a gallop, but the small
fry of followers keep at a respectful distance until their
superiors are gorged, then they take their turn un-
molested.

Apart from his fur-hun tin g adventures, which
are full of incident, accident, and escapes,
Mr. Ross gives us many curious pictures of
the customs of the Indians. The treatment
of their slaves when first captured is singularly
cruel ; and the women perform all these bar-
barities ! When captured, the slaves are
brought into camp tied on horseback, each
behind a warrior :
But the squaws no sooner meet them than they tear
them down from the horses without mercy, and then begin
trampling on them, tearing their heads and flesh, cutting
their ears, and maiming their bodies with knives, stones,
sticks, or other instruments of torture. After thus glutting
their revenge, they drive the slaves to the camp.
It is then settled unalterably what the slaves are doomed
to suffer. Every afternoon, some hours before sunset, the
camp makes a grand turn out for dancing the scalps. For
this dance two rows of men, a hundred yards long or more,
arrange themselves face to face, and about fifteen feet
apart. Inside these are likewise two rows of women,
facing each other, leaving a space of about five feet broad
in the middle for the slaves; who, arranged in a line,
occupy the ceutre in a row by themselves.
• • • • •
All this is but a prelude to the scenes that follow. The
women, placed in the order we have stated, on each side of
the slaves, and armed with the instruments of torture,
continue jeering them with.the most distorted grimaces,
cutting them with knives, piercing them with awls, pulling
them by the hair, and thumping them with fist, stick,
or stone, in every possible way that can torment without
killing them. The loss of an ear, a tooth, the joint of a
finger, or part of a seal p torn off during these frantic fits,
are nightly occurrences. And if the wretches thus doomed
to suffer happen not to laugh and htizza (which in their
situation would almost be beyond the efforts of human
nature), or if they fail to raise or loner, according to

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caprice, the scalps in regular order, they are doubly tor-
mented and unmercifully handled.
tin these ooea,ions some termagant often pounces upon
her victim, who not unfrequently falls senseless to the
ground under the indiction of wounds. And if any slave
happens, from a sudden blow, to start back &little out of
line, awoman in the rear instantly inflicts another wound,
which never fails to urge the victim as far forward ; so that
they are often pushed backwards and forwards, till at last
they become insensible.
These cruelties continue regularly for six
days, during which period, after every inflio•
tion, the slaves are taken back to camp,
washed, dressed, fed, and tended until dusk
next evening, when they aro brought out to
undergo the same punishment. On the sixth
night they are handed over to their masters
for good.
- - •

After failing twice successively in two great
speculations in the fur trade, Mr. Ross at last
gave up service, and retired for good on the
Red River settlement. As he is ou his last
voyage by water, he gives us a sketch of the
independent, thoughtless, happy life led by
most of the old voyageurs or °acme-men on the
rivers :
" I have now," said one, " been forty-two years in this
country. For twenty four I was a light canoe man ; I
required but little sleep, but sometimes got less than I re-
quired. Nu portage was too long for me; all portages
were alike. My erd of the canoe never touched the ground
till 1 saw the end of it. Fifty songs a day were nothing to
me. I could carry, paddle, walk, and sing with any wan I
ever saw. During that period, I saved the lives of ten
bourgeois, and was always the favorite, because when
others stopped to carry at a bad step, and lost time,
pushed on—over rapids, over cascades, over cbfites : all
were the same to me No water, no weather, ever stopped
the paddle or the song. I have had twelve wives in the
country, and was once possessed of fifty horses, and six
running dogs, trimmed in the first style. 1 was then like
a bourgeois, rich and happy : no bourgeois had better
dressed wives than 1; no Indian chief finer horses; no
white man better harnessed or swifter dogs. I beat all
Indians at the race, and no white man ever passed me in
the chase. I wanted for nothing, and I spent all my
earnings in the enjoyment of pleasure. Five hundred
pounds, twice told, have passed through my hands;
although now I have not a spare shirt to my back, nor a
penny to buy one. Yet, were I young again, I should
glory in commencing the same career again. I would
gladly spend another half-century in the same fields of en•
joyment. There is nu life so happy as a voyageur's life :
none so independent; n) place where a man enjoys so
mach variety and freedom as in the Indian country.
Huzza! huzza! pour le pays sauvage !" After this cri de
fair, he sat down in the boat, and we could not help ad.
miring the wild enthusiasm of the old Frenchman. He
had boasted and excited himself till lie was out of breath,
and then sighed with regret that be. could no longer enjoy
the scenes of his peat life.
The lively, entertaining sketches of life, cha-
racter, and adventure which abound in these
volumes will insure their popularity. There is
a perfect fund of adventure iu every page; and
the hardships, trials, and perils of the fur-
hunters may well become one of our " Boy's
Own Books."

Gilbert Massenger. By Holme Lee. London :
Smith and Elder.
THE tales of this author are usually distinguished by
forcible conceptions of character, and by the
struggles and sacrifices which persons of strong will
make to carry out their designs. In " Gilbert
Massenger " the interest of the story depends on the
principle of the hero, who resolves to break off his
engagement with an amiable and lovely girl to whom
he is fondly attached when his eyes are opened to the
dreadful consequences which may result from his
marriage through a taint of hereditary insanity in
his family. There seems a defect in the construc-
tion of the story, as the whole history of his family's
insanity was known to him before this engagement
was contracted, and the revelations made after the
death of his aunt add very little to his knowledge,
and were not likely to have bad much effect on a
character so resolved and stern as be is represented
to have possessed. The tale, as may be supposed
from its leading idea, is stern and gloomy in its tone.
Gilbert, his parents having died in his youth, is
brought up by his maiden aunt, a harsh, unbending
woman, who endeavours to break his will, and who
casts him off penniless when he resists. She is
wrapt up in "spiritual pride ;" and the working of
this sentiment, aptly described by Sterne as "a very
" bad species of a very bad passion," is vividly
delineated. But the conception is not thoroughly
sustained. " Spiritual pride," when once it bas
mastered a nature, is of so baleful and dominating a
kind as to leave no room for the possibility of re-
pentance or the revival of natural feeling. It surely
leads to the death of all humane and generous feeling
and from its very essence leaves no room in the soul
for any other sentiment than itself. But in the case
of Gertrude Massenger there is a disposition to
relent, and she does not fully carry 04 her apfq tv,r,

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