by Ken Busato
Chapter 32
Only thirteen families remained after everyone who chose to go left. Of two hundred or so settlers, there were only sixty of us who chose not to take up Cameron’s offer.
It was such a sad day when Mr. Docherty came to give us a tearful farewell. Ever since the days back in New Lanark, when his wife was there to help with the birth of Calum, the Docherty’s have been great friends. Everything we experienced, they also had an equal share in. Whether it was misery or success, Robert and Arwen were with us, until now. For Liam, the loss of his best friend Angus has been tough. You can only be consoled so much when the one person you trust the most outside of your family is ripped apart from you.
Arwen Docherty wants no more of Red River. Last year, on that night when men violently came on their land and set their shed on fire, Arwen was scared, and no amount of comfort could shake her out of how she felt. She was so afraid that night, not even the courageous words of her young son could console her. It’s one thing to brave the elements, wind and rain, for these are things we don’t have control over. You try your best to deal with the hand the Lord has given you. But when people go out of their way to harm you, you do what is necessary to bring yourself peace of mind: you leave.
On June 15th, a supply of canoes was obtained to take the settlers one thousand miles to the heart of Upper Canada. As settlers packed the canoes tight and got ready to leave, I noticed that everyone who chose to stay was there to say goodbye, except for my uncle. I know his decision to stay was heart breaking, and he did not need to be reminded of this choice as Chloe floated out of his life forever.
To protect the settlers, Governor MacDonell had given himself up to Duncan Cameron. MacDonell, I’m told, has already started the long journey to Montreal where he will face charges of stealing pemmican from The North West Company. In all his arrogant glory, Cameron stood across the river from us, flask in hand, toasting to the health of those about to undertake the long journey east towards a place called Lake Superior. Liam started to run with the canoes by the side of the river, but eventually he gave up, only to return and bury his tearful head in Mama’s chest.
“If there is a god, may he grant them a safe journey,” I heard Papa say as he waved to the canoes off in the distance.
“We’ve done this type of travel before,” I replied, “So hopefully their voyage will be uneventful, and without an endless number of portages.”
George stood quietly beside me. I could see the look of concern he had on his face. “I hope you are right Molly, but they may see some trouble.”
“From where?” I curiously asked.
“From Selkirk’s agents who are spread throughout the area and know what is happening. Remember we were shipped here at great expense, so in a way we are all still indebted to Selkirk and the Hudson’s Bay. Each settler who took up the offer to leave has acted as a traitor to the interests of the Hudson’s Bay.”
“Surely calling all those good people traitors goes too far,” I angrily replied.
“Molly, Mr. Fraser, please believe me when I say I do not consider any one of those people traitors. I just know this is how they will be regarded in the eyes of those who have gone to great expense to have us settle in this area.”
“Aye,” Papa responded. “Those very same people we counted on to help us might turn on them for their act of disloyalty.”
“Well, as you say Mr. Fraser, may God grant them a safe journey.”
“The next time I see Robert Docherty, hopefully it will be in heaven, for we have already spent quite enough time together here in hell.”
“Oh Papa,” I laughed, giving him a playful push.
It didn’t take long for Duncan Cameron’s true motives to be made known. With only sixty settlers left, we had thought, had hoped, that we could be left alone to live quietly and peacefully. We would not get any help from the North West, but we would also not be harassed by them as well. This is what I had prayed for, but it didn’t happen.
After ten days a summons was read to us. Only a while ago we said goodbye to dear departed friends, and now the price of loyalty to Selkirk was being made loud and clear. Cameron was nowhere to be found, but in his place there was another man equal to the task of making our lives miserable. How tragic it was when I found out that he was called MacDonell as well.
The morning was hot and sweat trickled down my face. The rash of mosquitoes was at its worst. Even in the heat of the day, you could feel them buzzing around your head. It was under these hot and bothersome conditions that Alexander MacDonell, agent of the North West Company, quickly declared his summons.
“All settlers are to retire immediately from Red River, and no trace of a settlement is to remain.” It was that quick. No reasons were given, no explanation of what we were to do or where we were to go. Simply leave.
I was stunned by the news. I did not think the men of the North West Company had the power to simply force us to leave. As I stared at the ground in disbelief, my mind wandered back to when we were forced from our croft in Argyll. Is the same thing happening?
I was pulled out of my thoughts into the present crisis by screaming coming from a man guarding this new MacDonell. Settlers were throwing stones, and some of them were hitting the mark. The Metis that accompanied MacDonell were on horseback, and the horses started to move nervously as stones, thrown by angry settlers all around me, flew furiously. I picked up a small rock close to my feet and was about to join in when a loud shot made me stop immediately.
“You all had your chance,” MacDonell start to scream, “And you all foolishly decided to stay. Duncan Cameron came to each one of you, politely offering the hospitality and good will of The North West Company, but you decided you were too proud to take from this new hand of friendship. And now, you pelt us with stones like animals, like dogs. You chose poorly, and now you will leave or face the consequences.”
A lone rock flew from behind me, glancing off of MacDonell’s cheek. He was able to duck in time: the full force of the throw did not hit him square in the face. A slow stream of blood started to ooze from where the stone hit. The aim was close to perfect.
“Get that little runt,” MacDonell screamed, “And bring him here for a good horse whipping!”
Turning around, I saw exactly who he was talking about. It was Liam, so angry at the loss of his friend. He started to run back to our shelter and was being chased by one of MacDonell’s guards on horseback.
I have never seen Papa run so fast before in my entire life. He made a dash for this one man sent out to capture Liam. With a strength I thought not possible, he leapt into the air and tackled the Metis to the ground. While on top of him, Papa started to beat him with his fists, one after the other. If it wasn’t for the quickness of my uncle, the guard would certainly have been killed for threatening my family.
All of MacDonell’s guards pulled out their guns and held them high so everyone could see they were heavily armed. Papa raised his hands high and slowly got off the man who he had beaten into unconsciousness. One Metis had his gun pointed directly at Papa’s chest.
“Don’t,” I yelled as I hurried to Papa’s side. “He was just protecting his son, my brother. Don’t shoot!!”
The Metis kept his gun pointed at Papa. The sweat poured even more forcefully down my neck, sticking to me like a second skin. I tried to grab hold of him, but he turned to me with a look that said to stay back. Papa’s hands were high in the air in a gesture of surrender, while Uncle Willie kept his arms to his sides with his fists at the ready. But what good are fists when you have a gun pointed to your head? Thankfully, Liam was now far gone.
“No one will die here today,” the Metis started. “Today, all we are doing is issuing a summons. In two days, you all must leave. If you stay, you may end up in flames just like your homes.”
His voice was sinister, yet I also noticed he had a small Scottish accent. He was different than all the other Metis I have ever en
countered.
“Who is this man that threatens us with the voice of a Scot?” my uncle angrily demanded.
“I may sound Scottish, but I am Metis. I am Cuthbert Grant, and I will tell you, all of you, that anyone who dares to try and test us again will feel a bullet enter their chest. Today, however, it is only a warning.” Quickly he approached Papa and, using his musket as a club, hit my father in the chest with such force he crumpled to the ground in a heap. I had never seen someone do that to him before. I bent down over him and tried to help him as he was gasping to get air back into his lungs. After a moment, he was starting to breathe normally again, but he was in a great deal of distress.
“You have two days to remove yourself from this country,” MacDonell screamed, pressing his cheek with a cloth to stop the flow of blood. For a moment, I had forgotten he was there and in charge. It was this Scottish Metis, this Cuthbert Grant, who filled my heart with terror.
“Where do you expect us to go?” my uncle screamed. Even though he was asking MacDonell, his eyes, like mine, were fixed squarely on Grant who still kept his finger on the trigger. Grant was impressive looking. He was tall, and he carried himself in front of us like he was the leader.
“You can go to hell,” Grant started. “My people have been here for generations. We live the way you are supposed to live in the West, free like the buffalo that feed us, clothe us, sustain us. What are you, but strangers in a strange land. You can go to hell for all I care. Your company has no claim to this land, and neither do you.”
“Those are mighty strong words,” my uncle started, not one to back down from a fight. “It seems to me a gun in your hand gives you the right to say as you please. I wonder how you would talk if you weren’t so armed?”
“You’re a wild dog,” Grant coolly replied, not willing to take the bait. “And like all dogs, you can run away with your tail between your legs, or I will use this gun and put you down for good.”
“Big talk,” my uncle scornfully replied, spitting at his feet in disgust. The man Papa had beaten lay groaning on the ground, shifting his weight from side to side. Papa rose from the ground with my help. He softly lifted up his right hand, begging for Willie to stop before turning something violent into something deadly.
“Willie, calm your words. I’m the one who has suffered the worst here. No one else need suffer on this day.”
“Listen carefully to this one,” Grant quietly said, his finger still on the trigger of his gun. “MacDonell has made his summons, and you are all to leave this land. Go to your shelters and prepare. In two days, we come back with torches, guns, and many more men. Everything in this area now belongs to The North West Company. Anything you have built will be destroyed.”
“Have pity,” I pleaded as the tears started to well up in my eyes. “We’ve been promised so much, and this is all we have left. We are poor, and all we ask for is the chance to try to scratch out a small living without interference. I don’t care about your fur trade, just my family. Can’t you understand this?”
Grant carefully studied me. He cocked one eyebrow as if seriously contemplating what I had said. I don’t think he has ever had much contact with women, especially with women who were not Metis. It almost seemed for a moment, although brief, that he might take pity on me, on us. The moment was only brief.
“I am not moved by your entreaties,” he said, facing me. His gaze was so intense; it was as if we were the only two people present. His look was hypnotic, and that terrified me all the more. “Every effort was made to assist your departure. You foolishly declined what was offered. Two days is now all you have left. Any man, woman, or child left after two days should pray to their maker, for they will soon meet him if the men who are with me have anything to say about it.”
“You cold hearted bastard,” my uncle clearly said behind clenched teeth.
“I have been called worse. Go now, and make preparations for your departure.”
Grant confidently turned around, quietly walking back to where his horse was being held. He did not turn to look back because he didn’t need to. As far as he was concerned, his word was law and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
“We should have left when we had the chance,” Mama said to me when the Metis were far from view. “Arwen is on her way, safe from harm. They may not know exactly where they are going, but at least they’ve got a destination. What do we have? A threat to leave and no place to leave to.”
Papa put his arm around Mama. “Fiona, we’ve got a couple of days to pack what we can. We better get home and find out how Liam is doing. There better not be any of Grant’s men moving about. I swear if any of them lays a hand on any of us, I’ll make sure to finish the job and kill him.”
“Get in line brother,” Willie bitterly replied. “I held back today, but I won’t hold back the next time a gun is pointed at us. I don’t care if I get shot at. I’ll make sure if someone tries to take me down, I will take them down first.”
“We’ll need to get some guns then,” George suggested, as all of the settlers started to gather around us. “If Grant is true to his word, nothing will be left of the Hudson’s Bay. All the storehouses and other buildings we have spent so much time putting up will be destroyed in only a day.”
“I may have some guns you might use,” a strange voice piped up from behind me. “I can spare a couple, but I don’t intend to leave based on a threat from some damnable Metis.”
“What do you intend to do Mr. McLeod?” George asked. John McLeod was a fellow Bayman like George, but he was someone who did not normally speak to us. Most Baymen stayed close to the fort, not close to the settlers. “There’s many of them on horses, and there is only few of us. What chance can you have if you intend to stay?”
“I’ll raid the blacksmith, get anything I can for my three pound cannon. I’ll cut up pieces of chain for shot and shell, and I’ll fortify myself with three or four other men. I have enough powder to last until we get help out this way. George, you must go with these people. You know I would ask you to stay, but you have to go with your girl and her family.”
“Lake Winnipeg is the best place to take the colonists to,” McLeod continued. “They will be safest there. You know George, Selkirk intends to keep bringing people here. He’s convinced a great settlement can be established. He’ll be pissed when he finds out so many of his people, his first and second wave of immigrants, left when a little heat was applied by the North West and their friends. Anyhow, if more people are coming, and I know they are, it’s at the tip of Lake Winnipeg where you’ll meet them and then decide what to do next.”
“More settlers to come to an empty settlement,” moaned Papa at the thought of having to leave and go back from where we came from.
“The next time I see you Fraser,” McLeod responded, “And there will be a next time, you will have many men with you who will stand up to these Metis. Cuthbert Grant can intimidate when he is well armed, but we’ll see what happens when the odds even out.”