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T H E T R I P T O W A H P O O S K O W 141
Wahpooskow had its superstitions and some doubtful customs.
For instance, an Indian called Nepapinase—" A
Wandering Bolt of Night- Lightning"— lost his son when
M r . Ross was there taking adhesion to the Treaty, and
spread the report that he had brought " bad medicine."
Polygamy was practised, and even polyandry was said to
exist; but we had no time to verify this gossip, and no right
to interfere i f we had.
On the 6th, a lovely fall morning, we bade good- bye to
Wahpooskow, its primitive people, and its simple but ample
pleasures. Autumn was upon us. Foliage, excepting i n the
deep woods, was changing fast, the hues largely copper and
russet; hard body- tints, yet beautiful. There were no maples
here, as i n the East, to add a glorious crimson to the scene;
this was given by shrubs, not by trees. The tints were certainly,
i n the larger growths, less delicate here than there;
the poplar's chrome was darker, the willow's mottled chrome
more sere. But there was the exquisite pale canary of the
birch, the blood- red and yellow of the wild rose, which glows
i n both hues, the rich crimson of the red willow, with its
foil of ivory berries, and the ruddy copper of the high- bush
cranberry. These, with many other of the berry bearers
and the wild- flowers, yielded their rich hues; so that the
great pigments of autumn, crimson, brown and yellow, were
everywhere to be seen, beneath a deep blue sky strewn with
snowy clouds.
We were now on the return to Pelican Landing, with but
few incidents to note by the way, aside from those already
recorded. But having occasion to take a declaration at a
cabin on our passage along the first lake, we had an
opportunity of visiting a hitherto unobserved stratum of
WahpooSkow's society.
The path to the cabin and its tepees led up a steep bank,
beaten as hard as nails and as slippery as glass; nevertheless,
by clutching the weeds which bordered it, mainly nettles, we
got on top at last, where an interesting scene met the eye.
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| Title | Page 162 |
| OCR | T H E T R I P T O W A H P O O S K O W 141 Wahpooskow had its superstitions and some doubtful customs. For instance, an Indian called Nepapinase—" A Wandering Bolt of Night- Lightning"— lost his son when M r . Ross was there taking adhesion to the Treaty, and spread the report that he had brought " bad medicine." Polygamy was practised, and even polyandry was said to exist; but we had no time to verify this gossip, and no right to interfere i f we had. On the 6th, a lovely fall morning, we bade good- bye to Wahpooskow, its primitive people, and its simple but ample pleasures. Autumn was upon us. Foliage, excepting i n the deep woods, was changing fast, the hues largely copper and russet; hard body- tints, yet beautiful. There were no maples here, as i n the East, to add a glorious crimson to the scene; this was given by shrubs, not by trees. The tints were certainly, i n the larger growths, less delicate here than there; the poplar's chrome was darker, the willow's mottled chrome more sere. But there was the exquisite pale canary of the birch, the blood- red and yellow of the wild rose, which glows i n both hues, the rich crimson of the red willow, with its foil of ivory berries, and the ruddy copper of the high- bush cranberry. These, with many other of the berry bearers and the wild- flowers, yielded their rich hues; so that the great pigments of autumn, crimson, brown and yellow, were everywhere to be seen, beneath a deep blue sky strewn with snowy clouds. We were now on the return to Pelican Landing, with but few incidents to note by the way, aside from those already recorded. But having occasion to take a declaration at a cabin on our passage along the first lake, we had an opportunity of visiting a hitherto unobserved stratum of WahpooSkow's society. The path to the cabin and its tepees led up a steep bank, beaten as hard as nails and as slippery as glass; nevertheless, by clutching the weeds which bordered it, mainly nettles, we got on top at last, where an interesting scene met the eye. |
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