Lögberg-Heimskringla - 08.05.1987, Síða 5

ALDARAFMÆLISÁR, FÖSTUDAGUR 8. MAÍ 1987-5

John Ramsay, friend of the Icelanders
by Hulda Clarke
In the pioneer settlements at San-
dy Bar and Riverton, Manitoba, there
lived in the 1800s an extraordinary
Indian who played a major role in the
survival of the Icelandic settlers in
that area. He was a Godsend to the
Icelanders who were strangers in a
strange land, because he laid aside
any hostility he may have felt over
the takeover of Indian land and soon
became their friend and benefactor.
My father, G.J. Guttormson, who
was born in Riverton in 1878, (then
known as Icelandic River) knew him
well and regaled us with many a
story about "Ramsay" as he always
called him. He told how Ramsay had
won the hearts of all who knew him
by his kindness and willingness to
share his knowledge at a time when
the settlers sorely needed it. He
taught them how to live hand-in-
hand with nature and how to make
use of its bounty.
So many of us who have our roots
in that area are familiar with the sad
plight of our forefathers. They had
reason to be grateful to Ramsay who
taught them how to shoot game, ice
fish, trap animals and how to build
their log cabins and fill the cracks
with a mixture of straw and clay to
keep out the icy blasts of winter. This
was done in a courteous, cheerful,
friendly way which was bound to
endear him to the Icelandic people.
Last summer I paid a visit to the old
homestead in Riverton and came
upon the indentation in the ground
where Ramsay's cabin once stood.
He had been living there when my
grandparents, newly out from
Iceland, arrived to make their home
on his land alongside the Icelandic
River. He immediately extended
them the hand of friendship and
loaned them his shack which
sheltered them until their house was
built a year later (where my father
was born). He warned them of the
terrible floods that occurred
periodically and advised grandfather
to build the house on a rise in the
ground and later when water flood-
ed the fields all around, thanks to
Ramsay, the house was always safe.
My grandparents had much to be
grateful to him for, not the least of
which was the venison and moose
meat he often supplied them with.
When dad was born, Ramsay was
living at Sandy Bar with his wife and
three children, two sons and a
daughter Mary. Then came the terri-
ble smallpox epidemic and his dear
Betsey and the two sons died. Mary
survived but she was badly disfig-
ured from the pock marks and re-
mained so for the rest of her life.
Ramsay was grief-stricken and when
the first snow fell he walked many
miles to Stonefort (lower Fort Garry)
to trade furs for a fine headstone for
her grave and inscribed with her
name. It was the first time a
headstone had been placed on a
grave in the settlement.
Then feeling lost and lonely he
came back to the River with Mary.
There he later married an Indian girl
named Ellen and they had a child.
So now we come to my father's ac-
count of his first meeting with him
when he was around five years of
age. "I remember it was on a
beautiful summer's day and I was sit-
ting on the riverbank watching the
Indians paddling their canoes along
the river when I noticed a fine birch-
bark canoe with two Indians in it and
a baby, turning in towards me. Then
they pulled the canoe up just below
me and I have never forgotten the
impression that those Indians made
on me. I stared in amazement at the
finest looking man I had ever seen,
and I had a good chance to look him
over as he had brought his wife and
baby to show them to my mother and
father. I still remember every detail
of their appearance, such as the fine
clothes they wore, so bright and col-
orful, making those of the Icelanders
look drab and dull in comparison. I
could not tear my eyes away. I was
mesmerized, especially by the man
who was so striking in appearance.
Stately in bearing, he was above
average height with broad shoulders.
He had fairly long, shiny black hair
combed back from a high forehead,
fine features and a small mustache
which did not hide a cleft in his chin.
His eyes were a dark brown and
sparkled when he laughed, which
was often, but there was also a look
of sadness there. I believe he was then
in his prime, so lithe and graceful
were his movements. At that time he
was wearing white pants of fine
material, a red and white checked
shirt and a multi-colored sash around
his waist. Both husband and wife
wore beautiful beaded mocassins.
Was it any wonder after seeing such
a vision that my greatest wish was to
grow up to be just like Ramsay? What
higher goal could there be??
My dad Guttormur recalled that
Ramsay and Ellen shared many a
meal at their cabin with his father,
mother, brother Vigfus and him and
there were often other Icelanders as
guests also. They were served such
delicacies as venison, boiled, dried or
smoked moose meat and bannock
made from flour, lard and water,
fried over an open fire and served
with black tea. "We sat on the floor
on Hudson Bay blankets around a
white cloth in the centre and ate off
floral patterned plates. Even after the
guests had eaten so much that they
could hardly rise up on their feet
Ramsay would insist that they be
seated again to eat some more. As a
final gesture of hospitality he gave us
packages of moose meat or venison
to take home."
Later that summer Ramsay came to
my grandparents’ house and he came
alone. He had sad, sad news. Tragedy
seemed to stalk him and the news
was that Ellen and the baby had both
sickened and died. At the time my
father, who was yet a child, found it
very strange that Ramsay was able to
laugh in his grief but as he got older
he understood. Laughter is often akin
to tears and Ramsay, proud man that
he was, was not one to display
weakness.
Now, all he had left was Mary to
whom he showed great devotion. She
was so disfigured, poor girl, that my
father, when he first saw her playing
outside, thought he had come face to
face with Gryla. Gryla was said to
live in the forest and kidnapped and
devoured children. At least so he had
been told!! He screamed for his
mother who berated him for his
foolishness! When he saw Mary
again it was under different cir-
cumstances. His mother had heard
that Ramsay, who was always giving
her presents, had now given her one
that topped them all. It was
something that played music —
unheard of in the settlément! "My
mother and I longed to hear it" re-
called my father. "Ramsay and Mary
were then living upstairs at 'Osi'
across the river from us. It was
winter and we walked across the ice
and when we arrived the woman
who lived below led us upstairs
where the first thing we saw was a
shiny black box with a handle on the
side, sitting on a table. Mary was shy
and whispered to the woman to play
the instrument for us. Ramsay was
away at the time. She proceeded to
turn the handle and the music that
came out thrilled me to my soul. One
tune after another she played and I
noticed that it came from a roll of
paper quite long and six inches wide)
that unrolled at one end and came
out the other. I had seen pictures of
white angels with harps but never of
a pock-marked Indian one or I would
certainly have considered Mary an
angel for allowing us to hear what
was the first musical instrument I
had heard."
Ramsay had superior skills and
was an expert trapper and huntsman.
He owned a fine dog team and cared
for them well, never whipped them
as some other Indians had a habit of
doing. Sometimes the whines of the
dogs could be heard throughout the
settlement. "Often," wrote father,
"my brother Vigfus and I would
watch from the window Ramsay tak-
ing off into the woods with his dog
team. When the snow had fallen
heavily he walked before the dogs
trampling down the snow so they
would not sink down. Sooner or later
he would reappear, a carcass of a
moose on his sleigh and this he
would sell to the storekeeper for five
cents a pound. More often than not
he gave some to a starving Icelander.
There were times when he followed
the moose tracks in the snow for a
whole day and then night would
catch up with him. Then he built
himself a shelter of pine boughs and
built a fire at the open end. It was im-
portant to keep turning over in the
night so that the side away from the
fire would not freeze. Always he car-
ried a tin can in which he melted
snow for tea and if he had been
lucky, he chopped a chunk off a
moose and roasted it at the end of a
long stick.
Ramsay's door was always open to
white man and Indian alike and he
was held equally in esteem by both.
He was especially fond of children
and ready to drop whatever he was
doing to assist them as the following
account by my father shows; "Ram-
say was staying with us for a time
and this day I came across him in the
woods sitting beside a fire, his tea can
beside him and occupied in making
an oar for his boat. I had with me a
straight stick made of birch and also
a bit of string. Ramsay asked, "what
are you going to do with that?" and
I said I was going to make a bow and
arrow. This made Ramsay laugh and
he told me it would not wórk because
it could not be bent. Then he dropped
the oar he was working on and ran
fleet as a deer into the woods and
brought back two boughs from a
willow, one straight and one very
crooked. My face must have shown
my consternation when he began
whittling a bow from the straight
piece which meant he was going to
use the crooked one for an arrow! He
said "I will be the first to hit it" and
then he finished the bow. But when
he started on the arrow he sent me
home to pick up some duck wings he
had there. It was quite far so by the
the time I got back he had finished
the arrow and it was perfectly
straight. How he did it I never found
out no matter how often I asked him.
This was a secret he did not care to
share with white men. Now after he
had tied the string to the bow and at-
tached three feathers (from the duck
wings) to the end of the arrow, he
laid the arrow on the bow, took aim
and shot straight at the target.
As time went by the woods van-
ished to the white man's axe and the
Continued on Page 6
Þjóðræknisfélag íslendinga í Vesturheimi
FORSETI: OLI NARFASON
Gimli, Manitoba
Support Icelandic Culture and Heritage
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