“Yes,” came the puzzled reply. “We don’t like good swimmer’s” “Can you cook?” “No,” with an even more puzzled look came across the boy’s face. “End of the line. We are in need of a good cook,” Jacques bellowed. When enough questions were answered with the right replies we found ourselves inside the room wondering what all the fuss was about. With each correct reply came a nametag of a voyageur that fit the description of what Jacques was looking for. I was Gil LaFleur, a strong voyageur, who protected the camp from bears and carried more than his share on journeys with the Northwest Trading Company. This was my new employer and Louis Escargot, my favorite daughter, was the trading companies new cook. They employed mostly uneducated and non swimming personnel. I guess we didn’t need the education for the tasks at hand and the later would provide many of our doomed fates. An educated man would surely work for more than my $140.00/year salary. Escargot received $180.00/year for her services. We embarked on our journey to Wolf Lake after being outfitted with appropriate voyageur attire. We were told of two things: 1. When you hear the name Northwest Trading Company you reply with,”Viva La Company…Hey!” 2. When the name Hudson Bay Trading Company is uttered you would reply with, “Stinking pig dogs!” Then you spit. Hudson Bay Company was our rival company and no sooner than our journey began did we see those stinking pig dogs! The plants were getting showered with our affection as we passed Hudson Bay with chants of the filthy animals they were. Our large 20 man canoe waited for us at the foot of the steep hill that surrounded Wolf Lake. We were outfitted with paddles that reached our chins and odd puffy vests. I don’t remember the rowing terms so I just follow the others and our canoe makes good time through the water. I found out shortly that we will never be seen at any play theatres as our songs echoed through the hills like a dying moose. Beaver could be swimming close by and probably wondering where to hide as their hides were what we are in the search for among other things. We reached camp for the day and Jacques showed us newly acquired traders how to start a fire with flint and steel. Others played games or helped in making tent stakes. Escargot had help from a few mates making dinner, which was one of our favorites…,”gallett!” Jacques also made some raspberry tea from leaves at the site which warmed the body after it cooled down from the long journey. We didn’t stay long and it was soon back to the headquarters where our journey began. Of course more awfully sung tunes were echoed again, Hudson Bay pig dogs were spat on, and yet we all felt content with whom we were. We were the Northwest Trading Company! “Viva La Company!” “Viva La Company!” Jacques was also a fortune teller of sorts as he told of our lives and what was to happen in the years to come. I was to disappear and never be found again in just four short years. Some have speculated that I was carried away by animals while trying to protect the company. Escargot died a year earlier as she thought the odd puffy vest was more comfortable to sit on than to wear. She drowns in the river one spring when the waters run a little wilder from the melting snow. Life as a voyageur was one I wouldn’t trade. I was able to see the beautiful landscapes that surrounded me while earning a little cash and working along some great men and women. PICS In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top In editing for Sunday's edition Return to Top | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
