Shoes and Canoes, by William H. 
G. Kingston 
 
Project Gutenberg's Snow Shoes and Canoes, by William H. G. 
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Title: Snow Shoes and Canoes The Early Days of a Fur-Trader in the 
Hudson Bay Territory 
Author: William H. G. Kingston 
Illustrator: Norman Little 
Release Date: May 15, 2007 [EBook #21478] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SNOW 
SHOES AND CANOES *** 
 
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England 
 
Snow Shoes and Canoes; The Early Days of a Fur-Trader in the 
Hudson Bay Territory, by William H G Kingston.
_________________________________________________________
______________ 
The basic story-line is that there is a fort in the Hudson Bay Territory 
that needs some stores and materials to be sent to it from another fort 
about 150 miles away. The journey could be done by canoe, but there 
are none available at this time. So a party of people are sent overland 
to fetch what is required. 
There are encounters with bears and other dangerous animals; there 
are times when they are very hungry and very tired. They encounter 
both friendly and unfriendly Indians. They borrow canoes at one stage, 
and have wrecks in the mighty rapids. 
There are strong overtones indicating that Kingston has read the 
authentic books by Ballantyne, who had worked in the Hudson Bay 
Company, and whose letters home had set off his literary career. But 
Kingston has a unique style of his own, and he was good at research, 
so he can be forgiven for using valuable authentic material to help him 
get his facts right, and make his story credible. 
About 10.5 hours to read aloud. 
_________________________________________________________
_____________ 
SNOW SHOES AND CANOES, THE EARLY DAYS OF A 
FUR-TRADER IN THE HUDSON BAY TERRITORY, BY WILLIAM H 
G KINGSTON. 
CHAPTER ONE. 
BLACK FORT--THE PACK-HORSE TRAIN SETS OUT--SANDY 
MCTAVISH'S SAGACITY-- THE NIGHT-WATCH--THE TWO 
REDSKIN HORSE-THIEVES--A SNOWSTORM--AN 
UNCOMFORTABLE BED AND A TERRIBLE NIGHT--MY 
DELIGHT AT FINDING MY HORSE ALIVE--WE OBTAIN 
SHELTER IN A WOOD--DESPERATE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN A
LYNX AND AN EAGLE FOR THE POSSESSION OF A 
HARE--THE HARE BECOMES MY PRIZE-- THE UNTIMELY 
APPEARANCE OF A WOLF. 
The short summer of the North-West Territory of British America, the 
region in which the events I am about to describe took place, was 
rapidly drawing to a close. 
I had been sent from Black Fort, of which my elder brother Alick had 
charge, with Sandy McTavish, an old follower of our father's, and two 
other men, to bring up ammunition and other stores as a winter supply 
from Fort Ross, about 150 miles off--a distance, however, of which we 
did not think much. 
The stores ought to have been brought up the greater part of the way by 
the Saskatchewan, but a canoe had been lost in ascending the rapids, 
and no other was at that time to be procured to replace her. It became 
necessary, therefore, at all costs to transport the required stores by land. 
We had eight pack-horses, besides the four animals my companions 
and I rode. 
We were all well armed, for though the Crees and other Indian tribes in 
the northern part of the territory were generally friendly, we might 
possibly encounter a party of Blackfeet on the war-trail who, should 
they find us unprepared, would to a certainty attack us, and endeavour 
to steal our horses and goods. We were but few in number for such an 
undertaking, but no more men could be spared. Sandy, however, was a 
host in himself. He thoroughly knew all the Indian ways, and from his 
long experience was well able to counteract them. 
Many an evening, while seated at our camp-fire or at the stove in the 
fort, during winter, has he beguiled the time with accounts of his 
hairbreadth escapes and desperate encounters with the redskins. He had 
no enmity towards them, notwithstanding the attempts they had made 
on his life. 
"They were but following the instincts of their savage natures," he used 
to observe; "and they were not ower weel pleased with the white men
for hunting in the country which they call theirs, though it must be 
allowed they dinna make gude use of it." 
Sandy was as humane as he was brave, and I am very sure he never 
took the life of an Indian if he could avoid doing so with due regard to 
his own safety. He had come out from Scotland when a mere boy with 
our father, who was at that time a clerk in the Hudson's Bay Company, 
but who had ultimately risen to be    
    
		
	
	
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