West to the Bay

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  Thomas saw Francis and Richard Isbister and their parents coming up the plank. He walked over to the bulwark and looked down at the crowd of people on the dock. He spied his parents and waved to them, but they did not look up.

  When they reached the deck, Thomas was waiting for them. Duncan Gunn was out of breath from his climb up the plank and they moved out of the way to let him recover.

  “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Gunn,” Givens doffed his cap. “I remember you from when your other son sailed with me.”

  “Yes, Edward,” Mary said, softly. “That was four years ago.”

  “May I show you to my cabin?” Givens held out his arm. Mary smiled and blushed and slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. He walked slowly along the deck, pointing out some of the features of the ship. Thomas stayed beside his father, offering his arm for support.

  Master Givens escorted them down the companionway to his cabin, which was off-limits to the rest of the visitors. A long table was set in the middle of the room. Plates and cutlery were arranged on it, and the few chairs on board were placed around it. Benches had been taken from the crews’ quarters, covered by blankets, and set in the empty spots.

  He offered them a glass of punch and left them talking with his first mate and other parents while he went back to receive his next guests. Thomas could not sit and wait. He left the cabin and headed for the deck. Where was John? Why was he not here by now? Had Givens finally convinced his mother not to let him go? When, at last, he saw John walking with his mother, Thomas almost shouted with relief. He glanced over at Givens and saw he was as pleased to see Martha Kirke as Thomas was to see John.

  After Givens had greeted John’s mother and was escorting her to his cabin, Thomas fell in step with John behind them.

  “I thought you were not coming,” he whispered.

  “Not on your life,” John said. “Mother had to give me some pointers on how to behave tonight.”

  Thomas nodded. “Yes, I got those, too.”

  They were silent, listening to the conversation ahead of them.

  “There is still time to change your mind,” Givens said.

  “I will not,” Martha replied.

  “A tragedy is going to befall this voyage. I have had that feeling since leaving London.”

  “Every sailing has its risks. I trust you will look after John for me on the crossing and once he is in the new land he will be safe.”

  “I hope so.”

  Thomas walked to his parent’s side while Givens cleared his throat.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Givens said, when he had everyone’s attention. “There are name cards on the table, so if you will find your place, we can begin our evening. I apologize for the seats, but we have very few chairs on this ship.”

  With much milling, the guests found their seating arrangements and sat down. Thomas was disappointed to find he was set between his parents instead of with John. Givens sat at the head of the table and motioned to the crewmen who were acting as servers to begin. The first course was a beef roast. It was cut in large slices and one man placed a piece to each plate. The second server went around the table with a bottle of wine filling the men’s glasses. The women and new recruits were offered more punch.

  The next course was a platter of fish, baked with parsley and onions and sprinkled with lemon juice. After the fish, came a bowl of cabbage, cooked in vinegar and sugar. A basket of bread and a dish of butter were passed from person to person. The guests kept up a congenial conversation discussing the weather, the ship, and the night’s dances. Cheese and fruit were dessert.

  With the serving of dessert, Givens stood to make a speech. “This is the time for me to relieve any of your fears, to describe what your sons will be doing, and how they would be living. As most of you know, since the turn of the century the Hudson’s Bay Company has been recruiting boys from these islands for their posts in Rupert’s Land. And all of you believe sending your boys to the New World is the only way they will make a living for themselves.

  “Some of you have heard this speech before, but most of you are probably wondering what your sons will be doing at the bay and what life is like there. First, let me say the Indians are not savages who are out to kill the men at the posts. There have been a couple of unfortunate incidents on both sides, but they have been long forgotten. The Indians are businessmen just like the fur traders. They bring the furs to the post to be traded for items they need to live their daily lives, such as guns and powder for hunting, pots for cooking, and beads for decorating their clothing. They usually come once a year in the summer because they have such a long distance to travel in their canoes. The furs they trade at the fort will be loaded onto my ship and I will take them back to London on my return voyage.

  “In spite of promises, many of the boys will not write, so do not expect any letters. One day they will just return home with enough money in their pockets to buy some land, and that is when they will tell you about their experiences.”

  Thomas noticed some heads nodding and he knew they were still waiting for letters from sons, just as his parents were waiting for a letter from Edward.

  “Because of our delay in getting here, we are behind schedule so we will be sailing tomorrow at high tide.” Givens looked pointedly at the boys. “Anyone who is not on the ship will be left.”

  He waited a few moments to let this sink in, and then he smiled. “If you would like to join me for a stroll around the deck to settle our meal, we will return for tea and biscuits later.”

  Thomas again supported his father as they walked behind the master. They stopped to watch the band playing and the people dancing on the dock. When they returned to the cabin, they drank their tea and ate their biscuits.

  “And now, if everyone is ready, let us go out and partake of a little dancing,” Givens grinned. “That band seems to be getting louder.”

  They all smiled and laughed as they left his room and went up on deck.

  * * *

  Thomas stood in the cool morning air and hugged his family goodbye. He was aware of how much he was going to miss them and he did not attempt to hide the tears in his eyes. He noticed the same in his mother and sisters’ eyes. His father and brothers did not cry, but their voices were gruff. Even Harry seemed subdued.

  “Make sure you write,” his mother said, as she wrapped her arms around him.

  “I will.”

  “And let us know of Edward.”

  “I will.”

  Thomas climbed up on Nellie and took his bag from Stuart’s hand. “I will leave Nellie at John’s place.”

  “We will collect her when we come in to wave goodbye.”

  Thomas and John were the first boys on board. They stowed their bags on the bunks assigned to them and quickly returned to the deck where the last of the sailors straggled aboard. One, still drunk from his visit to the pub, was supported by two of his fellow crew mates. He had neither a shirt nor boots.

  “He is that Ben from the fight,” Thomas said to John.

  “Where are this man’s boots?” Givens demanded.

  “He hawked them for more rum,” one of the other men answered.

  “What did he do that for?”

  “He is used to sailing the South Seas where most men work in just their breeches because of the heat of the sun.”

  “A sailor crossing the cold North Atlantic cannot work without boots.”

  “I have an extra pair he can use,” the second man said. “And he has another shirt in his chest.”

  “Take him below.”

  The dock was crowded with townspeople out to say goodbye to their own. Last minute farewells were yelled as the other boys climbed on board. Thomas could see his parents sitting in their wagon. They looked up at the boys leaning over the bulwark and when they saw Thomas, they waved. The Company flag, with its insignia of four beavers and a red cross, was hoisted on the harbor tower.

  Thomas turned and watched as Givens sent the sailors to the sail yards
to begin loosening the canvas. Eight members of the crew turned the capstan to bring in the anchor cable. Givens gave the signal and the lines to the dock were let go. The square sails unfurled and filled with wind. The anchor was raised and quickly hoisted to the cathead. As the ship moved away from the dock on the ebb tide that would take them past Hoy Sound, the island’s cannon was fired. The roar vibrated off the low hills behind the town. The crowd waved handkerchiefs and cheered.

  Thomas stood on deck waving to his parents. His last glimpse of his home for the past fifteen years was the dock, the crowd, and the houses behind. He suddenly felt a pang of fear. He was really leaving home, the only life he had ever known, and was on a ship bound for a land across the wide Atlantic Ocean where few white people lived, and where natives traded furs for guns.

  Thomas waved until his parents were just a small blur amongst the larger blur of the townspeople. He watched as the town slowly disappeared, then the hills behind and then the land. A great sorrow engulfed him as he realized he might never see his family, or his home, again.

  Chapter 7

  York Factory, Rupert’s Land. June, 1750.

  “I am going to the river,” White Paddler said, rising from the noon meal. He looked at Spotted Fawn. “Do you want to come with me?”

  Little Bird watched Spotted Fawn shake her head as she had done each time he asked her during the past week. White Paddler went to check the level and swiftness of the water every day. It had dropped since the spring melt and when it was at its normal size he would leave to go inland.

  After he had gone, Little Bird listened to her grandmother’s story about how her own grandmother had folded a piece of birch bark and then bit it many times. When she unfolded it there was a design of a bird, or a beaver, or a tree.

  “That sounds so beautiful,” Little Bird said. “Can you teach me?”

  “I have not done it since I was a little girl inland and there are not the birch trees here to get the bark from.”

  “Can we get White Paddler to bring us back birch bark, like he brought back some for the canoes?”

  Patient Woman shook her head. “You have to search for the right tree and when you find it strip off the bark. Then you have to remove the inner sections until you find the right one. White Paddler would not know what to do.”

  Spotted Fawn and Moon Face were making a stew of meat and dried peas over the fire for the evening meal. Suddenly the flap of the teepee was pulled back and White Paddler leaned in.

  “We are leaving in two days,” he announced, with a happy grin.

  Little Bird looked quickly at Spotted Fawn and saw the smile on her face fade. If White Paddler noticed he did not say anything.

  “I have to go tell the others,” he said and left just as abruptly as he had come.

  It was quiet in the teepee. Little Bird saw a tear run down Spotted Fawn’s cheek. The words she had been dreading had finally been spoken.

  “Well, I better get his buckskin pants finished,” Moon Face said. “How are you coming on his moccasins, Mother?”

  “Just a few more stitches left.”

  “Good. He should have enough clothes to last until he returns.” She turned to Spotted Fawn. “Do you want to help me with the pants?”

  “No,” Spotted Fawn said, her voice breaking. “I do not want to do anything for him.”

  “He is still your husband,” Patient Woman said.

  “But he is leaving.”

  “He will return.”

  “Not for months.” She pushed the flap aside and left the teepee.

  Little Bird spent the rest of the afternoon helping her mother finish the pants. They, plus a shirt and four pairs of moccasins, were packed for White Paddler to take with him.

  When Spotted Fawn returned, her eyes were red from crying. She went over to the mat she shared with White Paddler and lay down with her back to the fire. No one disturbed her. They saw nothing of White Paddler for the rest of the day, and it was after they had gone to bed when he entered the teepee and made his way over to the mat.

  Little Bird heard him speak softly to Spotted Fawn and her murmured reply then all was silent.

  The next morning Little Bird was awakened by White Paddler leaving the teepee. It was just barely dawn but she knew he had a lot to do if he were leaving tomorrow as he planned. She rose and stirred the embers of the fire, added some wood, then returned to her warm bed. The nights were still cool and that coolness crept into the teepee. She would get up when the teepee warmed a little.

  The morning passed slowly. Little Bird went to gather some wood and found the village almost empty. Most of the families had at least one member leaving to go inland with White Paddler, and they were at the river watching the loading of the canoes. She wanted to go, but because Spotted Fawn refused to she was not sure if she should. Her loyalty lay with her sister.

  Little Bird ate the noon meal with her mother and grandmother. Spotted Fawn refused to eat, as she had done at breakfast.

  “Are you going to starve yourself while he is gone?” Moon Face asked.

  Spotted Fawn shook her head.

  “Then eat something. It is not going to do you any good to sulk around here for the next few months.”

  “You do not know what it is like. Your husband did not willingly leave you.”

  There was a silence. Little Bird knew they were remembering the man who had died and left all of them.

  “What do you think would have happened if your grandmother had decided not to eat when your grandfather left?” Moon Face asked, in a quiet voice. “Where do you think we would be now?”

  Spotted Fawn looked at Patient Woman. “I am sorry, Grandmother.”

  Patient Woman smiled. “I understand. But you must remember that it was your choice not to accompany him because you want to see your grandfather.”

  “I know.”

  When the meal was finished, both Patient Woman and Moon Face lay on their mats. Little Bird knew she should go and get some water. Their buckets were almost empty.

  Spotted Fawn turned to Little Bird. “Let us go to the river,” she said.

  Little Bird stared at her. “You want to go and watch them load the canoes?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I thought you ....”

  “I have changed my mind. Are you coming with me or not?”

  “I will come.”

  Little Bird quickly followed Spotted Fawn through the village to the river bank which was lined with spectators. They found a place to sit and watch the activity below. Men from the post made a steady line as they carried bundles of trade goods from the fort, across the new sprigs of grass between the post and the bank, and down the ramp to the river. At the river they set the bundles beside the waiting canoes where White Paddler counted each item and compared it to his list. Then he nodded and his crew of Indians loaded it into one of the canoes. Twice they had to take everything out of a canoe and repack it to give more room for the paddlers.

  “Why did you decide to come?” Little Bird asked.

  “I thought about Grandmother, and how she has waited for Grandfather all these years. White Paddler is my husband, and I will wait for him.”

  White Paddler looked over at them and Spotted Fawn waved. Little Bird could see the relief on his face as he waved back.

  By the time the canoes were loaded, it was almost dusk. They were pushed out into the water and the men from the post held them against the current while the Indian crews climbed into each one with their paddles.

  Little Bird saw White Paddler take his position at the rear of one of the canoes. He paddled as expertly as his Indian companions guiding it up and down the river. Little Bird remembered when he had first started coming to the village wanting to be taught their ways and how the Indians had scoffed at him. Few white men asked to learn the ways of the land. Most just wanted the Indians to do everything from hunting, to fishing, to even learning English so they could communicate.

  But he had persisted and soon k
new how to build a canoe and how to start a fire their way. He learned their language, and best of all, learned how to paddle a canoe. He was so adept at it, the men of the village named him White Paddler.

  They spent an hour paddling up and down the river getting the feel for the canoes and watching for leaks. When each was deemed stable, it was brought to shore where it was covered in canvas in case of rain.

  Back in the village, a huge fire was lit in the center of the circle formed by the teepees. Spotted Fawn sat beside White Paddler while Little Bird sat off to one side. This was the last night the men from the village would see their wives for many months. Their voices were hushed as they talked about what lay ahead and how they would miss their families.

  * * *

  The next morning the women of the teepee were up before dawn making breakfast for White Paddler. He wanted to leave as soon as it was light enough to see. They accompanied him to the river where his crew waited at the canoes. Little Bird, Moon Face, and Patient Woman said goodbye to him and he gave Spotted Fawn one last hug.

  He went over and shook hands with the factor of the post who had come for the occasion then motioned for his men to push the canoes out into the river.

  Little Bird watched as each man climbed into position in the canoe while it was held by the men from the post. When all were seated and had their paddles, White Paddler pointed upstream.

  “Inland,” he yelled and thrust his paddle into the water.

  There was a cheer from the crowd on the banks as the men propelled the canoes forward. Wives and children waved until the canoes had rounded a curve and disappeared from view.

  Then there was an odd quiet as everyone stood uncertain about what to do next. They took one more look up the river then slowly dispersed. Spotted Fawn buried her face in her hands. Little Bird put her arm around her sister’s shaking shoulders.

  Chapter 8

  When the ship was out at sea, Thomas and John stood against the bulwark and watched the crew pass fish tackle around the fluke of the anchor, bring it on board from where it had been hanging on the cathead beam and lash it to the fo’c’sle deck. The upper sails opened in turn and the ship picked up speed as it headed west.