February 21, 1853,
Morning has arisen, I have woke drowsily to the sound of the screaming rooster and got straight to work. Draped in my capote, my beaded bag in my clasp and my bright red sash (cultural clothing) worn around my neck, I stepped out of our log cabin, a small house built from logs that has a rusty dormer, small living room and three bedrooms which my wife and my children snooze in and huddle together during the frost, chilly winter. As a loyal hunter to a fur-trading company, I must feed my family with proper food and settlements by hunting animals for trading at the fur trade posts for various goods and also for food. At an annual buffalo hunt, we men rode horses while our families travelled in carts waiting as we men hunted from two to five buffalos using guns on each run. At the end of the hunt, boisterous parties were held, celebrating a successful hunt. The spring buffalo hunt was the most important economic and social event on the lives of the us Métis families at Red River. It is a business venture, undertaken and organized with military precision for us. Dried buffalo meat mixed with fat and wild berries known as pemmican is a valuable commodity sold by us Metis men to the fur trade companies.
Besides that, I depend on hunting to balance on lifestyle. Before going out, I called to my wife Supra, saying that I am leaving to hunt. As a women, my wife Supra must look after the spiritual needs / knowledge of the family, including cooking and taking care of our two girls. As a father, she keeps convincing me that it was time that our daughters were wed to one of my brother's sons and was starting a new family. But I do not think that is necessary, after all my daughters are only fifteen, nearing sixteen this year, they are childish and have the behaviour of a child, how could I send them off to different families, it will be like commiting a blunder to those dear kids.
Since today is Tuesday, I had no need to wake up early and attend the catholic mass happening near the church of mother Mary which is just over by two kilometers from our camp. As part of our catholic culture and our contribution to the growth of it, we Metis families have to attend the prayer mass every Sunday and Saturday. Continuing on my way, I encountered my group of ten men awaiting me (dizaines) to begin our hunting as a group, first going into deep in the woodland. As a Metis group, hunting was divided into ten groups of ten men, each group having a leader. Out of the ten leaders a captain was chose to order the hunting parties while we ten captains chose ten soldiers who assisted us with order and discipline. On the route, I spotted a deer and shot it with my rifle, hauling it with us to the depth of the woodland. Together we hunted a bison, (me as the captain) and brought it to the camp, each of us dividing a share of the meat while our wives and children completed drying meat and making pemmican, which they did while we men went to work.
Since fur-trading at the posts happens once a week as a large group, I go in to our log cabin and dine on the lunch of "Rubaboo and Bannock" (Bologni and Hamburger Soup) my wife prepared for me and get ready to drop my daughters off at the Catholic residential school nearby our camp, which my daughters are taught how to live and spend more time in religious instructions and prayers. As evening came, I was over and done with assisting my wife in skinning, butchering, carrying back carcasses of hunted meat to camp, and then cooking the kill. I then again picked up my daughters from school, and all of us ate our dinner, of tourtière (a pork-based meat pie) and boulettes (meatballs) enjoying it pleasantly.
Night arrived and the sun hid behind the hills, sinking beneath the waters. The elders, and us captains met in firelight, to discuss how the hunt went and plan how it would go for the following day. When Midnight approached, we all said goodnight to each other, with me tiptoeing back to our home to catch enough sleep for strength the next day. We, as a Metis community relied on it as a non-political government.
Diary of Marcel Cardinal
Diary of Marcel Cardinal
