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EXPLORATIONS

IN

THE FAR NORTH

BY

FRANK RUSSELL

BEING THE REPORT OF AN EXPEDITION UNDER THE
AUSPICES OF THE UNIVERSITY OF IOWA
DURING THE YEARS 1892, ’93 AND ’94

PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY
1898

EXPLORATIONS

IN

THE FAR NORTH

BY

FRANK RUSSELL

BEING THE REPORT OF AN EXPEDITION UNDER THE
AUSPICES OF THE UNIVERSITY OF IOWA
DURING THE YEARS 1892, ’93, AND ’o4

PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY
1898

F

COPYRIGHT, 1898,
By Wm. J. HaDDOCK, SECRETARY OF THE BOARD OF REGENTS
OF THE STATE UNIVERSITY OF IOWA, FOR THE
STATE UNIVERSITY OF IOWA.

v7

PREFACE

ARLY in 1891, Professor Arthur G. Smith and the writer
planned to undertake a journey, during the summer
months, to the northern shores of Lake Winnipeg, Manitoba,
for the purpose of collecting ornithological specimens. Just
before our departure in June, we were joined by Professor C.
C. Nutting, who, eminently fitted by his experience as a
naturalist, became the leader of the expedition, which was
thereafter conducted in the interests of the Museum of the
State University of Iowa. During the summer two stations
were occupied; the first, near Lake Winnipeg, at the Grand
Rapids of the Saskatchewan River; the second, sixty miles
above, where the River debouches into Cedar Lake. The
results of our explorations have been embodied in a report by
Professor Nutting.!

While at the mouth of the Saskatchewan I met Mr. R. Mac-
Farlane, the ornithologist, who, during a residence in the Fur
Country of nearly half a century, had made extensive and
very valuable collections of natural history specimens. His
enthusiastic descriptions of the field, as yet almost unex-
plored, roused in me a strong desire to visit the Far North.
Professor Nutting, also becoming interested, after our return
laid the matter before the Board of Regents of the University
and eventually secured their approval of the plan to send me
northward to obtain specimens of the larger arctic mammals,
especially musk-ox, and, incidentally, “to pick up everything
else that I could lay my hands on.”

1Natural History Bulletin, State University of lowa, Vol. II, No. 3.

iy PREFACE

Through some oversight no money was appropriated to
carry on the work and the project must have been abandoned,
had not President Chas. A. Schaeffer generously advanced
the necessary amount to meet the expenses incurred during
the first year.

It was my desire to go at once to the Great Slave Lake
region, but it seemed best to the promoters of the enterprise
that I should become accustomed to the life of the natives
before going so far beyond the limits of civilization. Mr.
MacFarlane, then chief factor in charge of Cumberland Dis-
trict, the Hudson’s Bay Company’s southernmost division of
the Fur Country, thought it advisable for me to spend the first
winter at Grand Rapids in order to become acclimated and to
become accustomed to the northern mode of winter travel,
before I should attempt to enter the Barren Ground.

Grand Rapids is not a good station for a collecting naturalist.
Water birds are not numerous, land birds do not differ from
those more easily accessible in Manitoba. The fur-bearing
mammals have been nearly exterminated. The customs and
traditions of the Crees, who inhabit the country, have been so
modified by contact with the whites during a period of over a
hundred years, that their interest to the ethnologist has been
greatly lessened. However, the work already done at that
post would be enhanced in value if the collection was con-
tinued through a winter season, and it was finally fixed upon
as my headquarters for the winter of 1892-3.

As it was not desirable that I should begin collecting at
Grand Rapids before autumn, at the close of the University in
June, I went with Professor Smith to the Pacific Coast where
we were to collect natural history specimens for our own
cabinets until it was necessary for me to go to Winnipeg to
secure passage on the last trip of the lake steamers.

Our first station was upon the shores of Puget Sound, near
Tacoma, where we devoted most of our attention to the marine

PREFACE Vv

invertebrates. Several hundred starfishes were boiled and
dried, thus preserving their form and color. The most abun-
dant species, Asterias sp., was noticeably larger than the A. vul-
garts of the Atlantic Coast. The sea urchin, Echinarachnius
excentricus, WaS a common species in shore, fifteen hundred
being obtained in a few minutes dredging.

A full series of the alcoholic material collected has since
been presented to the University.

We were surprised to find so few water birds in that locality,
the pigeon guillemot, Cepphus columba Pall., was the only
species which was at all common. When we attempted to
collect land birds we more fully realized the great height of
‘the forest trees, in whose towering tops they flitted safely
about, quite beyond the reach of small shot.

We left Washington, late in July, for the second station,
‘which we were to occupy in the mountains of Central British
‘Columbia. When we crossed the international boundary at
Huntington, the person acting as collector of customs for the
Dominion insisted on the payment of duty on our effects with
‘the assurance that it would be refunded when we recrossed
‘the line. Let me here extend a warning to any too-confiding
naturalist who may meet that over-zealous functionary—if you
‘wait until you reach the boundary again you will never recover
your money. Some premonition of this fact induced Professor
Smith to request in person at the Winnipeg office that the
‘money be refunded, and even then the money was only
returned after months of persistent correspondence.

We take pleasure in acknowledging our obligation to Mr.
_A. Campbell Reddie, Deputy Provincial Secretary of British
‘Columbia, for the license granted us to hunt animals pro-
itected by the provincial game laws.

We had intended to descend the Big Bend of the Columbia,
but this plan was abandoned when we found that there was no
suitable boat at Donald. We then engaged an old hunter and

ai PREFACE

prospector as guide at “gold prices” and set off on foot to
ascend a spur of the Rocky Mountains, seven miles from the
village, where mountain goats were said to be found. There
was no trail for pack horses, so we packed our outfit on our
backs. After two days of hard climbing, a part of the way
through an almost impenetrable jungle, we reached the timber
line and encamped on the sharp crest of a long ridge which
was covered in places with banks of perpetual snow. From
our camp seven glaciers were visible on neighboring peaks.
The mountains bounded the horizon on every side. The broad
valley of the Columbia between us and the Selkirks was some-
times obscured by clouds that frequently rose and enveloped
us in mist, rain, or snow. The grandeur and magnificence of
the situation hardly compensated for the discomforts of a
shelterless camp.

We remained there until our provision was exhausted. We
secured, during that fortnight, specimens of the mountain goat,
Haploceros montanus, woodchuck, porcupine, Erethizon dorsatus,
etc. Woodchucks were very abundant above the timber line.
On one occasion I saw fifteen in a single group. The timid
squeak of the little chief hare was often heard, but, owing to
its wariness only one specimen was obtained.

We reached Winnipeg August 15th, whence Professor Smith
returned to Iowa, and where I spent several days awaiting the
arrival of my collecting outfit from Iowa City.

I am indebted to many friends for assistance. I wish espe-
cially to render grateful acknowledgment of the kindness.
shown me by President Chas. A. Schaeffer, and Professor C.
C. Nutting, without whose substantial aid and encouraging
letters the expedition must have been a failure. I must thank
the many students and members of the faculty who contributed
toward the fund which was so greatly needed for the purchase
of additional supplies for the second year; and the citizens of
lowa City and members of the University for the warm recep-

PREFACE wn
tion tendered me on my return. For kindly assistance in the
field I am indebted to Mr. R. MacFarlane, Mr. Joseph Hodg-
son, Mr. William Mackinlay, of Resolution, Captain J. W.
Mills, of the Steamer “ Wrigley,” and many other officers of
the Hudson’s Bay Company; to the officers of the Herschel
Island whaling fleet: Captains H. H. Norwood, E. C. Murray,
and E. W. Newth, all of whom either gave specimens to our
museum or assisted in their transportation.

FRANK RUSSELL.
Cambridge, Mass., December, 1596.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I—GRanp Rapips . . ; eeu ude Aas SE oe ari a I
II—TueE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES . Best CL eer 7a, 1G Rik. SDE
III—AperTaA. . . ... Beli: eR aE og is, tee, ST
IV—ArTHaBasca DISTRICT . ‘ : ee ae ee ee ef
V—Fort Rae . . A Se es a Ge Gole, 68)
VI—WINTER TRAVEL .... de Athen lee by ee . 88
VII—TuHeE Musx-ox Hunt . . care See Br ar a a OB
VIII—Down THE MACKENZIE fo 8 eos ee 3 925
IX—ETHNOGRAPHIC NoTES ON THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS . 158
X—ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL SECURED IN THE Hupson’s Bay
Company’s TERRITORY . . eda ie . 168
XI—ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL SECURED FROM THE ESKIMOS . 187
XII—MytTuHs oF THE Woop CREES Gans ‘ ay ae . 201
NaTuRAL History—MamMALs ... . id aad. clay 223
Birps.. . BR er Se, oe Se tee 2§3
FIsH . . te at A ee ‘ 271
INSECTS. . a RL A te 276

Fossirs. . . - : . . 281

ade
on fife)

130

128 West from 126 Greenwich 124 122

— STATUTE MILES —~

cS fo 0 189

—-STATUTE MILES—

ow 7) 0 10.

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

CHAPTER I
GRAND RAPIDS

N the 24th of August, 1892, I left Selkirk, Manitoba, bound

for Grand Rapids, on the “Colville.” The “Colville”

had been engaged for many years in carrying freight to the

Saskatchewan River, and, of late, has brought frozen white-fish

from the stations along the northwestern shore of Lake Winni-

peg to Selkirk, the present southern limit of navigation on the
Red River of the North.

On the following day, we ran into the harbor at Swampy
Island to escape a northeast gale which delayed us for twenty-
four hours. A packing company has erected buildings on this
island and an extensive fishery is carried on early in the sea-
son. In August the station is abandoned and the nets are set
farther north, off the mouth of the Saskatchewan. As we land-
ed, we were met by a number of Indian dogs which had been
left there to shift for themselves during the summer. Gaunt
and hollow-eyed, they patrolled the beach in search of the
chance fish which might have been cast up by the waves. Peli-
can Island, a noted breeding place of the white pelican, lies just
north of “Swampy” harbor.

The passage across the broad upper lake was a stormy one.
The “Colville” fully sustained her reputation of “the worst
roller on the lake.” The narrow hull and flat bottom required
to pass the bar at the mouth of the Red River, made the boat
very uncomfortable and even unsafe in heavy seas.

We reached the fishing station at Grand Rapids on the 29th
of August. The buildings stand at the narrow mouth of the
Saskatchewan and are used for a few weeks only each year.

I

2 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The Hudson’s Bay Company’s establishment is situated a mile
and a half above the “Fishery.” It consists of two empty
warehouses at the steamboat landing, unused since the Cana-
dian Pacific Railway diverted the stream of traffic from the
Saskatchewan, and three log cabins, one of which is known as
the ‘‘store,” another as the “big house,” or clerk’s residence,
and the third is too old and dilapidated for winter occupancy,
but I was compelled to lodge there as the big house was very
small. My cabin was built of hewed logs, chinked with moss
and daubed with clay. The autumnal ‘mudding” was poorly
done, and the second wash with muddy water, which is usually
applied after the frosts have come, failed to fill the cracks.
The floor was loose and allowed currents of cold air to rise con-
tinually, which the big box stove, though heated to a cherry
red could not overcome. The earth-floored Indian huts were
much warmer, though heated only by narrow fireplaces.

Before leaving Winnipeg I had obtained a letter of credit
from the Hudson’s Bay Company, or the “Company,” as it is
known in the north, which enabled me to obtain supplies from
any post in Cumberland District,—embracing the Lower Sas-
katchewan and the country northward to Reindeer Lake.
Trade with the natives is carried on by barter. There is no
““sooneyow” (money) in circulation, though values are reckoned
in dollars and cents.

I began collecting the day after my arrival, with the intention
of making as complete a list as possible of the birds of that
locality. I usually spent the forenoon in the bush and the
afternoon in making up the ten or twelve “skins.” “Old’
Joe Atkinson, an English métis from Hudson’s Bay, would
watch me by the hour, te-heeing with delight as each specimen
was prepared and placed in its fluffy, cotton shroud on the dry-
ing shelves. But the natives never quite understood why I
wished to collect the ‘ pe-yas-is-ak””—little birds.

The time was not all occupied, however, in collecting birds.
Though I was well acquainted with the topography of the sur-
rounding country, owing to my residence there during the
summer of ’g1, I had not yet found any human remains that
could be identified with certainty as belonging to Crees of
unmixed blood. Early in September, I was so fortunate as to
discover several burial places.

GRAND RAPIDS 3

The post is situated a mile below the Grand Rapids, which
are three and a half miles in length. A trail had been made
along each bank of the river by the Indian fishermen who re-
sort to the rapids to “scoop” white-fish. Beside this path, at
the foot of the rapids, lay a heap of brush, which, I was told,
marked the resting place of an old chief who, when dying, had
directed that his people should lay him to rest beside the sing-
ing waters, and that everyone in passing should break a twig
and throw it upon his grave. So faithfully had his wish been
complied with that a heap of brush three feet in height had
been accumulated. The tradition added to the probability that
the grave contained the remains of a Cree of pure blood. Any
investigation on my part, had it become known, would have
made further residence at Grand Rapids very unpleasant. I
proceeded, therefore, to examine the place alone. Clearing
away the rubbish and a poplar tree, six inches in diameter,
which grew directly over the grave, a number of flat stones were
exposed. After digging through three feet of sandy loam, a
mass of decayed birch-bark was disclosed, under which lay the
skeleton, reclining upon the left side with the legs drawn up.
The head was towards the east. A small neatly carved pipe of
dark fine-grained schist lay beside the skull. A few flakes of
rust—all that remained of a knife—and a couple of ounces of
shot, indicated that his death had occurred since the advent of
the whites.

A few days later another grave was discovered a half mile
farther up the river. A French métis had broken through the
turf, disclosing the skull, at sight of which he had fled in super-
stitious terror. After some searching I found the grave in a
little opening among the pines, unmarked, and at some dis-
tance from the bank of the stream. The skeleton was drawn
up in nearly a sitting position, with the head towards the south-
east. Beside it were found the crumbling remains of a loon’s
skull and a rude stone pipe-bowl. Mr. Otis J. Klotz mentions!
the occurrence at Grand Rapids, of a “few pieces of broken
pottery which were found, together with some skeletons and
deer horn implements, by the Indians, while digging a hole for
storing next season’s potatoes. Their date must be pretty old,
for the present generation of Indians here knows nothing, not

1Ann. Rpt. Dep. Int., 1891. Pt. II, p. 19.

4 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

even by tradition, of the art of pottery.” These remains were
found on the right bank of the river directly opposite the
chief’s grave mentioned above. They were buried in dry white
sand, in which, after further search, I found a number of human
bones, which, with those found and reinterred by the Indians,
comprised one skeleton of an adult, one disarticulated skull,
and the skull of a child about five years ofage. The crania are
distinctly unlike those of the Crees, as the measurements else-
where given show. It seems probable that these remains are of
the people that occupied the country before the Cree invasion,
and whose skeletons and pottery are found in the Manitoba
mounds.!

First Moose Hunt. During the month of September, Napa-
sis (“Boy”), the best hunter on the reserve, killed several
moose in the muskeg,? south of the post. Through the efforts
of Professor Nutting, during the preceding year, we had
secured two mountable moose-skins, but more were needed to
complete a series, so I proposed to Napasis that he should
“show me how to kill moose.” I knew from the experience of
the others that he would be quite willing to lead me through the
swamps as long as his pay was continued, and that if he found
moose he would probably guide me away from them. Why
should he gzve me a moose that he could come next day and
kill for himself? I therefore agreed to pay him a dollar and a
half a day, to buy the moose that he should kill, and to give
him a ‘‘present,” which, as it seems to be something for noth-
ing, is usually more talked about when making the contract,
and more highly valued than the wages paid.

1Dr. Bryce considers this earlier race to have been probably “Toltecan,”
and gives the northern limit of the country occupied by them at 52°; this

should perhaps be extended to 54°. “The Winnipeg Mound Region,”
Report A.A. A. Sc. 1889, p. 344.

? The muskeg is acharacteristic feature of northern topography. From
the International Boundary to the Arctic Sea the term is applied to alluvial
areas with insufficient drainage over which moss has accumulated to a con-
siderable depth. These swamps are usually covered with tamarack and
fir trees. The typical muskeg is traversed by meandering streams having
deep channels but a scarcely perceptible current. Stagnant pools become
coated over with moss of sufficient strength to temporarily sustain the
weight of a man. In places the surface is broken by tall hummocks, the
tétes des-femmes of the voyageur, which turn under the foot, and sooner or
later precipitate the passing pedestrian into the mud or water below.

GRAND RAPIDS 5

We set off in an old leaky birch canoe, on the 25th of Sep-
tember. We were to follow the lake shore to the base of Long
Point, twenty-five miles southeast of the post. This narrow
peninsula was appropriately named by Mackenzie, who, in 1801,
passed around the head of it, which projects twenty-five miles
from the main line of the coast. It is only five miles wide and
its central ridge of limestone is flanked on the north by a mus-
keg which gradually descends to the swampy little bays which
are enclosed by a barrier beach of sand.

The Indians were establishing their camps along the shore
of the lake for the fall fishing, as we passed. The north wind
blew raw and chill; the mosquitoes had given place to sand-
flies; the smoky haze, the whistling wings of the migratory
water fowl, all betokened the approach of winter.

After our ‘‘metsook” of bacon, bread and tea, Napasis spent
the evening in making “cakes.” He used two canoe paddles
for a kneading board and a frying pan for an oven.

We ate our metsook at sunrise the next morning and started
across the muskeg. We found abundant signs of the presence
of moose as we climbed over fallen trees and plodded through
swamps, sinking deep in the moss at every step. After five
hours of steady tramping we returned empty-handed for our
midday meal. This was soon dispatched and we were ready
for the trail again. Napasis led at a rapid pace, while I fol-
lowed in his footsteps to avoid breaking twigs, the sound of
which would have frightened the moose.

Early in the afternoon Napasis discovered a fresh track
which he followed until he became satisfied from examining
the bushes upon which the animals had browsed, that they
were near at hand; he then left the trail and pursued a course
parallel to it according to the Indian custom. We kept on for
an hour when, as we were traversing a level stretch of burned
timber, we caught sight of two moose, seventy-five yards dis-
tant. Napasis fired at the exposed flank of one and broke a leg.
The other made off, and I supposed that it would soon dis-
tance us and began to empty my Winchester towards the fleeing
animal. ‘ Nomuch” shouted Napasis, adding several emphatic
phrases which he translated by a beckoning sweep of his arm
as he began torun. Hatless and breathless we fairly flew over
brush heaps and bogs. After a run of half a mile we were

6 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

again within range; I fired, and the bullet pierced both the
right fore limb and the heart of the moose. This was my first
moose, and I had secured two excellent specimens, and felt
justified in giving vent to my feelings in a shout of triumph.
Napasis, too, was greatly pleased, and talked excitedly in unin-
telligible Cree.

The next morning a strong breeze prevented our returning
to the post. I tried to induce Napasis to continue the hunt, but
he only said ‘‘aha”—yes—and stupidly grinned at the proposi-
tion. It was against all precedent for a man to tramp around
another day after meat when he had a week’s supply on hand,
so he spent the day lying on his back singing or gorging him-
self with moose meat and cogos (bacon). The next morning
we worked along shore half way to the post, but could go no
further against the strong wind. I did not like the idea of
spending the night where we were, and set off towards the post
afoot, intending to swim the entrances of two deep bays that
intervened. On reaching the first of these, I found a canoe
lying upon the beach, and pushing back through the fringe of
willows, came upon an Indian, Peter Turner, seated with his
wife before the fire, surrounded by five half-naked children.
They had no shelter of any kind to protect them from the
chilling wind. A pair of wet and very ragged moccasins lying
before the fire told that the man had been hunting through the
muskeg, and the absence of the simmering kettle showed that
he had been unsuccessful. Peter was much amused at my pre-
dicament but informed me in very bad English that he would
set me across the bay with his canoe and that I could go around
the next one. Fearing that I would lose my way, he accom-
panied me to the post. He moved at a dog trot, which I, wear-
ing a pair of heavy boots, found it hard to maintain. We
passed several quaking bogs which had to be taken at a run or
we should have broken through the crust of roots and moss
and quickly sunk into oblivion. We passed through an open
meadow where a winding ribbon of open water indicated the
presence of a deep and sluggish stream. This we crossed upon
a foot-log, the ends of which were afloat in two feet of water
with nothing to prevent its rolling. The channel was fully ten
feet deep, but with a pole in each hand and rifles slung on our
backs, we succeeded in getting across. Within half a mile we

GRAND RAPIDS 7

encountered another stream called “Crow duck” (Cormorant)
River, which we crossed in a similar manner. I had been
travelling since day-break and my water-logged boots were
becoming a heavy, chafing burden by the time we reached the
Saskatchewan. The river with its mile-breadth of water, rip-
pling and dancing in the starlight, yet hurrying swiftly on, was
the last barrier between us and the post. This my self-ap-
pointed guide ferried me safely over. As he pushed out again
the words reached me in the darkness, ‘I go back to-night”
accompanied by a laugh, as if that ten mile tramp through
dangerous swamps was a huge joke. I was soon enjoying
liberal doses of the never failing remedy of the North for cold
and dampness—hot tea, and attacking my belated supper with
a sportsman’s appetite—a possession not to be despised in such
a country.

Second Moose Hunt. On the third of October, I again vis-
ited Long Point acccompanied by a French métis, who, like
myself, wished to see if he could kill a moose without the aid
of an Indian hunter. We reached the muskeg where we were
to camp, early in the morning. As we paddled our canoe up
a small, winding stream we saw many moose tracks and at last
decided to pitch our camp beside the creek and continue on foot.
We found a few minutes later that in unloading the canoe we
had alarmed a moose which had been lying at the water’s edge
just around the next. bend, where we should have come upon
him had we continued a few yards further, but he was out of
range when discovered, and it would have been useless to at-
tempt pursuit. The stream flowed through a large bralé in
which were occasional openings and clumps of green timber.
As we were working our way slowly through the maze of
fallen trees, one on each side of the stream, I heard the report
of Louis’ rifle. J hastened towards him, and very carelessly
ran into a little open meadow when I ought to have kept my-
self concealed in the forest; as I entered it a frightened moose,
carrying a fine pair of antlers (not the largest ones that I ever
saw), appeared upon the farther side. He stopped and looked
about for a moment, then with one plunge disappeared in the
thicket, quite unharmed by the too-hastily-aimed bullet sent
after him. Louis had fired at a cow at long range ‘“‘just to see
"er jump.”

8 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

As I was nearing camp alone after a hard day’s tramp over
the yielding moss, I saw a large moose in an opening about five
hundred yards away. He was walking slowly, feeding as he
went. At that distance he was not easily distinguishable from
the black masses of earth and moss, which clung to the up-
turned roots of the fallen trees. The animal was crossing a
level swamp, an almost impenetrable brailé in which charred
tamarack poles prevented a rapid and silent approach. The
sun was just dipping below the horizon as I waded across the
creek, waist-deep and icy-cold—and began the stalk. There
was scarcely a breath of wind to prevent the moose from hear-
ing the least sound, so that I expected to see the big-eared
brute make off at any moment, yet I succeeded in approaching
within a hundred yards without alarming him. The sand-flies
embraced the opportunity to swarm over my face and hands,
where, in the excitement of the moment, their stings were un-
noticed; later when their presence was recalled by the smart-
ing pain, I realized that my face was streaming with blood as
a result of their attacks.!

Vexed at the previous failures of the day, I was determined
to do careful shooting. The moose started at my first shot;
then stood swinging his head while I ran twenty yards towards
him. Taking deliberate aim I fired again, breaking a fore
leg. I then advanced to within thirty yards of the moose and
fired four times at his partially exposed side. But I had too
great confidence in the killing power of the heavy rifle and,
though I took time to aimas carefully as possible, did not take
pains to work around opposite his side that I might strike a
vital spot. A moment before I fired the last time I would not
have taken a hundred dollars for my chance of getting that
pair of antlers, which were the largest I ever saw; a moment
later I would have given as much for another cartridge. The
moose stood in his tracks for five minutes, and, beginning to

1‘ How can I possibly give an idea of the torment we endured from the
sand-flies? As we dived into the confined and suffocating chasms or waded
through the close swamps, they rose in clouds actually darkening the
air; to see or to speak was equally difficult, for they rushed at every unde-
fended part, and fixed their poisoned fangs in an instant. Our faces
streamed with blood as if leeches had been applied; and there was a burn-

ing and irritating pain, followed by immediate inflammation, and producing
giddiness, which almost drove us mad.”—Back, Narrative, p. 179.

GRAND RAPIDS 9

hope that he was too seriously wounded to escape, I started
after ammunition which, of course, I should have had with me.
At last he slowly started, hobbling painfully upon three legs.
I followed him for two miles and succeeded in turning him
twice, but never near the camp; at last he entered an abomi-
nable jungle of fallen trees, where I had to abandon pursuit in
the growing darkness as he was every moment increasing his
pace. We were unable next day, in such a maze of tracks, to
follow his trail, and a fine specimen was thus lost to science
through my poor shooting. JI was somewhat chagrined, as I
had rather prided myself on my success of the preceding week.
The peculiar behavior of the animal seemed to me to be worthy
of record. Though I lost the moose the experience has been
of value.!

Louis came in later and reported having seen four red deer
during the afternoon. We had stumbled upon our game with-
out the aid of Indian hunters, there was some comfort in that,
but to let it escape so easily marked us as ** nesoo mo-ni-as-uk”
—two greenhorns—of the most verdant type.

We remained a few days longer in camp, unable to continue
the hunt owing to the calm weather. His scent is so keen, that
it is practically impossible to approach a moose in the muskeg
unless there is a wind blowing. During the nights (clear and
frosty) the moose sometimes came within a hundred yards of
our tent, where we could hear them tramping about. I sug-
gested fire-hunting to my companions, who declared that they
would immediately leave the neighborhood, if we attempted it,
and that the Indians never resorted to this method of hunting.
I very much regret that we did not try it as the day fixed for
our return arrived before the weather permitted us to reénter
the muskeg. On the 11th of October we were favored with a
southeast wind which, however, came too late to be of further
service than to drive our canoe under blanket sail toward the
post. The fresh breeze raised a sea, over which our little birch
canoe rode lightly and safely, though we had to turn it to
meet the curling crests of the largest waves. Twelve miles

1 Upon my return to the post I learned that moose-skins with a dozen
bullet holes in them were sometimes traded at the store. I heard of na-
tives who after firing ten or twelve shots at a moose without effect had then
thrown down their guns and climbed a tree, fully convinced that they had
been shooting at the devil ! :

Io EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

from our destination, a projecting point, terminated by a line
of shoals, necessitated a portage of a few yards. We were
compelled to land in the surf of the exposed beach. Leaping
into the water at a favorable moment we flung a few heavy
articles ashore, then carried up the canoe before another wave.
could take us off our feet or break the canoe upon the rocks.

Two Cree families were living near by in lodges of birch-bark
and rushes. These miserable shelters seemed very comfortable
to us as we dried our garments before the cheerful fire. The
Indians had watched our landing and shook their heads as we
spoke of continuing the journey. In rounding the next point
we heartily wished that we had heeded their advice, as the rough
seas nearly swamped us in the evening darkness.

The Boat Trip to Cedar Lake. Fora few days after return-
ing from Long Point I spent the time in collecting land-birds.
The water-birds were passing southward in considerable num-
bers, but there were no feeding grounds nearer than the delta of
the Saskatchewan, on the northwestern shore of Cedar Lake.
I had visited that locality during the summer of 1891, and knew
that it was an excellent station for either collector or sports-
man,

The Company’s establishment, known as ‘Cedar Lake,” and
the Indian reserve of Chemawawin (‘a seining place’’), are
surrounded by extensive silted flats which are covered with a
luxuriant growth of rushes and grasses, and contain many small
lakes, about which the cry of the waterfowl may be heard from
April to November. Chief trader King, then in charge of
Cedar Lake House, sent me a cordial invitation to visit his.
post, sixty miles distant. In the hope of securing both speci-
mens and a store of game for the winter, I accepted the invita-
tion. A boat, loaded with freight, was to be sent up from
Grand Rapids, thus affording me the necessary assistants and
means of transportation.

On the 15th of October we were visited by one of the worst
storms ever known in that region; a terrific gale from the
northeast destroyed docks and carried away boats. The low
grounds, where the natives were encamped, engaged in the “ fall
fishery,” were flooded, and many nets were lost. This gale
swept away the ducks and geese from Cedar Lake, but we, in
blissful ignorance of the fact, started up the rapids on the 1gth.

GRAND RAPIDS II

The crew consisted of three métis and the Cree hunter, Aleck
Easter, who did not understand a word of English. Our craft
was a metal yawl which had formerly been carried by one of
the river steamboats. It was loaded with a few pieces! for the
river posts.

We left the post late in the day, according to the custom of
northern voyageurs. This is an excellent plan, for no amount of
forethought on your part will insure sufficient preparation on
the part of the men to enable you to get away early in the
morning. One is sure to sleep badly the first night, and if he
has been traveling all day he will find the hardship less endur-
able than if he had only attempted to get clear of the post be-
fore pitching camp.

Our boat was poled through five miles of rapids before we
halted for the night. The snow was two inches deep, the men
were tired, hungry, and wet from wading. A roaring fire soon dis-
pelled the darkness, and a few minutes’ work provided spruce
boughs upon which to spread our blankets. The next morn-
ing, after ‘drinking tea,’ as breakfast or any other meal is
designated, we crossed in the midst of the rapids and continued
by means of the tracking-line. The men on the line at times
waded waist deep in the stream; again, they crept along the
face of the limestone escarpments, at the base of which the cur:
rent ran deep and swift.

We used the oars on Cross Lake, which is about seven miles
in width, its northern shore not visible from the traverse. The
river enters the lake by a descent of about five feet, which forms
the rapids known as the Demi-charge. Our crew was small,
and not even a “half-load” could be tracked up the rapids.
After carrying the freight across the portage of two hundred
yards, the attempt was made to drag the boat through with
three men on the line. The banks were obstructed by fallen
trees, over which the tracking-lines of the traders have been
passed for over a century without anyone ever taking the
trouble to clear away a single branch. The men tugged at the
line until they were stretched nearly flat on the rocks, to which
they clung with hands and moccasined feet. Just as the boat
was on the last ledge, and the hitherto derisive shout of the

1The bundles or boxes, averaging ninety pounds each in weight, in which
the Company’s goods are packed, are known as “pieces.”

12 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

steersman of “haul! haul! haul!” changed to an appeal, the line
broke and the boat was swept back and an ugly hole broken in
the side by the rocks—the work of an hour was undone in a few
seconds. The boat was repaired with tar and cloth, and a sec-
ond attempt was made. The whirling waters caught the heavy
sweep, which swung around so quickly that the steersman was
hurled into the midst of the rapids. Fortunately he was not
injured and regained the boat as it dropped down stream. The
third attempt was successful.

The following day we reached Cedar Lake.! We were
awakened at 4 Aa. M.on the morning of the third day by the
steersman who insisted that we push on with the oars or we
should be ‘frozen in” before we reached our destination
Shortly after daybreak we were again wind-bound, and the day
was spent in camp at Rabbit Point.

The days were now invariably cloudy, but the wind died
away in the evening and the sky cleared so that we could see to
travel. We set out again at five o’clock pushing on through the
long twilight while the swell still rocked our little craft, into the
calm of the winter night.

The aurora appeared early in the evening, at first with a
broad yellowish band along the northern horizon; this crept
upward, folding and unfolding like some uncanny living thing,
then tongues and sheets of flame went flashing to the zenith,
changing rapidly while the band at their base continued its
shifting. The frost occupied itself with exposed parts for
awhile, then pierced through every wrap, and it not only looked
but felt like a sub-arctic scene. Every half hour the men took
their “spell,” resting long enough to cut up and smoke a pipe-
ful of tobacco or kinnikinic.

We reached Chemawawin on the morning of the fifth day.
We learned that only a few ducks had been seen since the gale,

1 “Cedar Lake (so called from the occasional groves of cedar—a tree rarely
seen in Rupert’s Land—growing on its shores, particularly at its western
extremity), is an expanse ot water of considerable extent in which the
turbid waters of the Saskatchewan are allowed to disseminate and settle
before uniting into one great river and rushing down the Grand Rapids
into Lake Winnipeg.’—Hind, (ft. on the N. W. Ter. p. 76. It was called
Lac Bourbon by the early Canadians. “C’est en 1728 que M. de Reveren-

die decouvrit ce lac et lui donna le nom lac Bourbon, (en anglais Cedar
Lake).”—Faraud, Henry, “ Dix-huit ans chez les Sauvages,” p. 70.

GRAND RAPIDS 13

and that these had been hunted by the natives until they had
become very wary. With Donald and Aleck I set off ina birch
canoe to try and bag a few of them. On our way the “boys”
amused themselves by firing at the muskrats, which were more
abundant than the ducks. More than one rat was blown to
pieces and the pelt ruined, of course. This seemed to afford
the keenest delight to my crew. We were to take our stand on
an island to reach which we must cross a half-mile of shallow
water, now covered with thin ice. Donald soon wore out a
paddle in breaking through it. Half way to the island we be-
gan to drag on the muddy bottom; the men sprang out and
dragged the canoe forward, breaking the ice with their bare
feet. I had not yet become accustomed to wading in ice
water, and when the canoe stuck hard and fast several hundred
yards from shore, I hesitated about getting into the water.
Donald was quite willing to carry me, but he sank so deeply in
the mud that I was at last compelled to wade. Two years later
I would have taken it as an every day matter, but at the time I
considered it a hardship. I gave the boys a supply of ammuni-
tion with which to hunt on their own account. The métis,
Louis, also made a “‘stand” near us. If the game secured had
been in proportion to the powder burned by the four guns that
day, I would have recorded here the result of our efforts,—any-
one wishing further information concerning the avifauna of
Chemawawin, on the 25th of October, 1892, is respectfully
referred to my private journal!

The next morning a fair wind enabled us to set sail for home.
At eleven o’clock on the second day we were in sight of the
tramway above the Grand Rapids, when Aleck, ever on the
lookout for game, pointed to a moving object at the water’s
edge a mile below, and said “mooswa.” It was a young moose
of the season, a specimen which I was particularly desirous of
obtaining to complete our series. Aleck had left his gun at
his camp up the river, but as he had killed sixty-nine more
moose in the last six months than I had, I thought it surer to
send him after the game with my Winchester than to go my-
self. Aleck seemed greatly excited, not nervously so, but
with the eagerness of the well-trained hunter. The moose
entered the woods with the boy in close pursuit; soon after we
heard a shot and saw the wounded animal dash into the river.

14 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH
We sprang to the oars and hastened towards it, soon finding,
however, that it was floating, lifeless, its skull shattered by the
heavy ball. All hands laying hold, we dragged it into the boat,
and a few minutes later were at the end of the tramway across
the portage, where we loaded it on a car and carried it to my
very door.

In November I continued the daily field work, collecting
birds and small mammals. The chickaree, or red squirrel, the
anikwichas of the Crees, was quite abundant; its defiant chatter
might be heard on any fair day throughout the winter. I also
snared a number of northern hares. These animals are seem-
ingly very fond of twine. During the first night they were set,
fifteen of the nineteen snares were cut and chewed by the
animals which they were intended to capture. The Indians
sometimes rub ermine’s liver on the snares to prevent their being
eaten, but usually a large number are set, and patiently re-
newed if destroyed. At least half the hares are caught by the
hind legs in passing through the snare; as a result their flesh
has an indescribably disagreeable flavor which is not found in
those caught by the neck.

During my morning hunts I frequently walked fifteen or
twenty miles, and found more and more difficulty in securing
specimens enough to occupy my attention during the rest of
the day.

During the morning hunt of November 21st, my face was
frost-bitten for the first time. Snow fell nearly every day and
accumulated to such a depth that travel through the bush be-
came very fatiguing. My journal contains the following entry
for December 6th: ‘Spent the afternoon in the field, secured
one red-poll! I left the portage trail to hunt in the bush, found
it almost impossible to manage my small snow-shoes in the
soft snow and took them off only to find myself sinking waist
deep in the snow! Alphonse Propontier remarked this morn-
ing that during a residence here of twenty-three years he had
never before seen the snow so deep at this season.” Under
such circumstances the collection of birds became unprofitable
as the number of species was reduced to the few winter residents.

Dog Driving. On the 16th of November, I took my first
lesson in dog driving. Even then I felt an anticipatory chill
at the thought of the hundreds of miles of that kind of travel-

A GIDDE IN SUMMER CONDITION,

GRAND RAPIDS 15

ing in store for me. Our team was composed of four dogs,
harnessed one before another. The Eskimo method of driving
them in packs with a trace for each dog, is never employed by
the Indians of the Canadian Northwest, who always drive them
tandem.

Two of the team require special training. Tne leader, called
the foregoer, sets the pace and changes his course at a word
from the driver who, whatever his nationality may be, speaks
to his dogs in the French patois of the North.

Hu and chac, anglicised to “ you” and ‘‘chaw” are the words
necessary to turn the foregoer to the right or left. The dogs
are started by the command marche, though a few of the
northern Indians still use the Athabascan word of command,
—M’nit-la. The “sled dog,” usually the heaviest in the team
is trained to swing the head of the sled away from obstacles; it
is important that he should be well trained when following a
crooked track through the forest. A team which has been
trained together is much better than a “picked-up team,” as
the dogs have a uniform pace, are less apt to fight each other,
and will unite against all comers for self protection.

The Northern dog is always a draft animal. Regardless of
age, sex or birth, his destiny is to haul. I have seen every vari-
ety, from a greyhound to a water spaniel, toiling painfully
along in the harness. Most of them are of the wolfish breed
known as Indian dogs, or, in the far North,—giddés; these are
smaller and more uniform in color than those kept by the
whites. The latter are of a variety of colors, and all dislike
work, particularly the yellow ones! The dogs of Mackenzie
District are the largest and best trained of all that I saw in the
North. They have been bred especially for hauling upon the
established routes of travel, where weight, rather than endur-
ance, is desired. Many of them have been disfigured by hav-
fng their tails docked. The brush is a great protection to the
nose and-feet of the animals when lying curled up in the snow,
exposed as they are to the lowest temperatures, and the loss of
it through this senseless practice, causes much needless suffer-
ing. Some of them are tricky, making a great pretense of
straining at the collar while really hauling very little. A few
are willing workers, for which they are seldom rewarded; some
are vicious brutes and have to be stunned by a blow upon the

16 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

nose before they can be harnessed. All are accustomed to
fight their way through summers of starvation and winters of
ill-treatment, hunger and the whip. Frost or the teeth of foes
mark their ears early in life. Their heads are battered with
the whip stock or “willow”—any convenient club. Not unfre-
quently they are killed in harness and thrown out with brutal
indifference by the wayside. The method of harnessing renders:
them more easily controlled than are the Eskimo dogs. A
dog may tug wildly aside to escape the descending lash but he
is too closely held to escape and is soon lying prostrate, his
head under his fore-legs, howling until the driver’s feelings are
relieved or he is beaten into insensibility.

The Indian dogs haul much heavier loads than would be
thought possible from their appearance. A team of four dogs
which I drove the following winter, hauled a load of over five
hundred pounds across four hundred miles of hilly country,
without a track for the sled and with a short allowance of food.
On November 6th, 1857, Mr. Lawrence Clark brought eight
hundred and fifty-two pounds of meat into Rae with three
dogs; this was on a level, beaten track. At Simpson, one
thousand pounds were hauled by four dogs, but it was merely
a trial on a good track to see if the team could haul half a ton,
and three men were required to manage the sled. One hundred
pounds for each dog is considered a maximum limit on hard
snow.

The harness used by the Company in the Northwest may be
either of imported leather or moose-skin. The Indians use
moose- or caribou-skin, often without either buckles or the rod
of quarter-inch iron for stiffening the circular collar. A band
over the back holds up the traces and another under the breast
is intended to prevent the dog from escaping from the harness
which he sometimes succeeds in doing, upon catching sight of
caribou or in struggling to avoid the whip. The traces, of three
thicknesses of moose-skin, are long enough to allow a space of
a foot between the dogs. The collars are surmounted by varie-
gated pompons and the dog blankets or tapis, are elaborately
beaded or embroidered. From one to one hundred bells are
attached to the collars and back straps of the team; even the
northernmost Indians manage to secure two or three bells for
each dog.

GRAND RAPIDS 17

There are two sleds used, the cariole for passengers, and the
flat sled for freighting. The sled itself, which is the same in
both, is made of either birch or oak in the Northwest and of
birch in the North. It is about eight feet long, sixteen inches
wide in front, and fourteen behind. It is made of two or three
boards curved upward in front to a height of two feet and then
bent abruptly backward and downward; four or five crossbars
strongly bound with babiche—a line made from green deer-
skin—hold it together; loops of babiche are placed along the
sides of the flat sleds through which the lines of braided deer-
skin are passed in diagonal cross-lashings to bind down the
load which is contained in a mooseskin “wrapper.” The cari-
ole has sides of moose parchment permanently stretched from
the front to a board of equal height which serves as a back.
Behind this, the sled projects two feet or more and affords
room for the driver to stand when showing off the strength
of his team, on his arrival at a settlement; or, upon a journey,
without an accompanying flat sled, the fish for the dogs are
piled there. The curved front allows just enough space to
admit the tea and cooking kettles, placed one within the other
and held in a bag fastened bya drawing string at the top. The
cariole is a narrow portable bed in which the traveller may sit
or recline at full length and sleep with comparative comfort,
wrapped in robes and blankets. It is usually painted in as
many colors as can be obtained.

Snow-Shoes. I made my first attempt at snow-shoeing on
December Ist. The shoes were small and the snow soft so
that they tended constantly to pitch forward and catch the
upturned front under the snow. The disentanglement of a
capsized snow-shoe in soft deep snow, is not easily accom-
plished. The victim fills his mittens with snow, wrenches his
ankles, and breaks his snow-shoe lines in his efforts to right
himself. Many who are not familiar with the use of Canadian
snow-shoes think that one can move faster on them by taking
a sliding step, which is, of course, a mistake, as they are not
used with a skating motion at all. They are a positive encum-
brance which must be raised at each step so that the body of
the shoe may be clear of the surface. The step is therefore
higher when the soft snow allows the shoe to sink; it is length-
ened with large shoes which glide over each other so that the
feet are laterally separated but little more than usual.

2

18 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The novice in the art of snow-shoeing is fortunate if he
escapes the painful mal de racquette or “‘snow-shoe sickness,”
caused by the strain on the muscles and tendons of the lower
leg, in carrying the unaccustomed burden attached to the ball
of the foot. During the two winters spent in the North I was
five times afflicted with this malady, but these attacks, except
the first, were due to hardships which also affected my com-
panions—natives—in a similar manner. At such times it
seemed as if my ankle joints grated dry as I scraped along in
the torturing dog-trot. Truly, the heavy hunting snow-shoe,
or an ill-tied one of any sort “‘is a weariness to the flesh.”

The snow-shoes used by the natives between the Red River
and the Arctic Circle are of a different pattern from either the
round framed shoes of lower Canada or the finer meshed
snow-shoes used among the Loucheux Indians. They are nar-
row, pointed at the ends, and upturned at the front. The
smallest, for use in walking on lakes, the Barren Ground, or
in the sled track, are barely wide enough for the foot to rest
clear of the frames, and are about forty inches in length. The
largest hunting snow-shoes are sixteen inches in width by six
feet in length. The frames are of birch, shaped and bent while
green, dried over an open fire, provided with three to five cross-
bars and laced with babiche.

Tea-Drinking. The deep snow prevented the Indians from
“making fur.’ Those at Cedar Lake who relied upon their
catch of muskrats and martens for means to purchase flour
were reduced to the verge of starvation. When relief was
brought to one aged widow, who had been living for months
upon the few rabbits which she had been able to snare, she
made no complaint of hunger but loudly bewailed the fact that
she had been without tea for several days. Tea is considered
a necessity by all Northern Indians. They will cheerfully
undergo the greatest hardships in the service of a ‘‘master” if
supplied with tea and tobacco, but when these fail their courage
also fails. After an experience of two years, spent in arctic
or sub-arctic regions, I can testify to the efficiency of tea as a
stimulant in a cold climate. It was wonderfully helpful in
cases of extreme fatigue. No depressing effects followed its
use though it was often consumed in immoderate quantities.
The muscles as well as the nerves were acted upon and its

IS ATCUEWAN

MM

Sh RAS

GRAND RAPIDS 19

potency against the hardships which the arctic traveler has to
encounter was fully demonstrated. With a meat diet it is far
preferable to any other beverage; as the natives say, “it cuts
the grease.”!

Jack Fiddler, On December goth, I visited Selkirk Island,
where two white men remained during the winter to oversee
the Indian crews who put up the season’s ice for the fisheries
there. Crossing the channel, four miles in width, to the main-
land, I found the cabin of “Old Jack Fiddler,” a gray haired
and bent little Englishman who lived there alone, subsisting
upon the fish which were abundant in the bay before his door.
I visited him to inquire about the Great Bear Lake country,
where I thought of spending the following winter. Old Jack
had accompanied Sir John Richardson, in 1848, when that dis-
tinguished explorer descended the Mackenzie and followed the
Arctic coast as far eastward as the Coppermine. This party,
known as the “Arctic Searching Expedition,” had wintered at
the northeastern extremity of the Great Bear Lake in build-
ings they erected upon the site of Fort Confidence, built by
Dease and Simpson in 1837. He had also been a member of
Stewart and Anderson’s party which descended the Back River
in 1855. He had suffered much hardship upon the second ex-
pedition, which had passed through the Barren Ground during
the season of heavy rains. The rheumatism there contracted,
still afflicted him and must have made the life of the old man
almost unendurable in that solitary cabin.

I had walked about twenty miles upon heavy snow-shoes on
the preceding day and was glad to have an opportunity to ride
back to the post with a party of Indians who were returning to
the reserve with light loads. I had no furs or rugs, and indeed,
could hardly have made myself comfortable with them, seated
upon the loaded sled. Before we had accomplished a half of
the fifteen-mile traverse I had become too cold and stiff to run
and too stupid and indifferent to realize that I was quivering
and shaking in the intensely cold wind that swept across the

1 Admiral Inglefield strongly commends it. “Seamen with me up the
Wellington Channel, in the arctic regions, after one day’s experience of
rum drinking, came to the conclusion that tea, which was the only bever-
age I used, was much preferable, and they quickly derived great advan-
tage from its use while undergoing hard work and considerable cold.”
Quoted by Reade, Zea and Tea-Drinking, p. 68.

20 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

lake and that I ought to have walked and disregarded the
Opinions of the men, if I did not wish to prepare myself a
future as unpleasant as that of Old Jack.

My driver stopped every mile or two to whip his dogs. Not
content with bringing down the lash with all his strength he
clubbed them with the whip handle until the blood appeared
in spots on their heads and ran from their nostrils.

CHAPTERITII
THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES

URING the months of January and February, 1893, I laid
aside the shotgun and occupied the time in studying and
packing the collection, and in visiting the natives.

All the Indians at the post and a few from the river reserves
were engaged in the ice harvest from the middle of November
until New-year. The most of them were at Selkirk Island, but
about twenty were at work at the mouth of the river under the
direction of Mr. McLean, the genial clerk of the Grand Rapids
post. They gathered at daybreak at the ice houses each man
with his sled and dog team. They presented a grotesque
appearance as they dashed up, standing upright upon the sway-
ing flat sled, cracking their whips at the lean and snarling curs.
They were dressed in white man’s clothing except the comfort-
able and more suitable moccasins and the capote of blue cloth
manufactured expressly for the Indian trade.

They ate their lunch of fish out of doors and seemed as indif-
ferent to their own comfort as to that of their dogs, that were
allowed to lie in harness and shiver in the snowall day. After
nightfall they all came to the Big House for the day’s wages, or
those of the day’s to come, if they could get a little “debt ”—
credit. They filled the little office and sat crosslegged upon
the floor, talking and smoking, while the clerk took one man
at a time into the store and weighed out a pound of bacon, a
little flour, etc., to the amount of his day’s earnings.

The stores are never heated in winter on account of the vacil-
lating nature of the customers, who would consume too much
time in making up their minds about their purchases, and in gaz-
ing at the tempting display of beads and ribbons if they were
not literally frozen out. One or two violins would, be kept
going constantly for the two or three hours that they occupied

21

22 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the office. Every French métis and several of the Indians
could play jigs and reels which they rendered with variations
ad libitum. Sagames (“Mosquito”), a tall Indian with small
skill and a large fund of humor, usually gained the most ap-
plause by handling the violin as if it were a new toy, he had
then met for the first time and which through his manipulation
evolved various discordant squeaks until it suddenly burst
forth in the lively strains of the “double jig.”

A Metis Wedding. One of the most important social events
of the year was the marriage of the daughter of Antoine Char-
tier, an old engagé. The announcement was made and arrange-
ments begun to make it an affair of unparalleled magnificence.
The reserve was upon the tiptoe of expectancy, as Old Antoine
was known to have a little credit at the store. On the day pre-
ceding the important date the bride had not yet made up her
mind whether to marry or not, so that postponement was neces-
sary. After a few more postponements, Annette decided to ac-
cept Benjy’s proposal and the fest#im was prepared. Being a
stranger to their customs, I was invited to attend; the mere
announcement was sufficient invitation to everyone else on the
reserve.

The guests came, not with presents, but with a great yearn-
ing for the free dinner. They would give the young couple a
start in life by eating the entire fortune, then upon the tables,
of both families. An ox had been killed, and two hundred
pounds of flour baked into bannocks. The tables were loaded
with boiled and roasted moose-meat and beef. There were
plum puddings and rice puddings, in which the principal in-
gredients were raisins and currants. There were also a few pies,
and cranberry sauce and strawberry and raspberry jam in
abundance. Tea in unlimited quantities completed the menu.
The dinner was ready at four in the afternoon. As soon as
one tableful was temporarily satisfied, another lot from the
group outside the cabin would seat themselves.

At eight o’clock the clatter of the fiddler’s feet upon the
loose boards of the warehouse floor at the old steamboat land-
ing indicated the opening of the ball. The “orchestra’”’ wore
a pair of heavy “English shoes,’ as the imported article is
called, the rub-a-dub of which, in beating time, drowned the
music and the soft shuffle of the moccasined dancers. The

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 23

“hall” had a few benches arranged for the occasion along the
walls, and was illuminated by half a dozen candles. It was ex-
hausting work for the violinist to keep both feet going for any
length of time, so that the violin soon changed hands. Before
morning nearly every man present, including the groom him-
self, had taken his turn. Round dances were not indulged in.
The jig was the most popular dance as it gave great opportun-
ity for the display of individual skill, in the men at least, who
stamped, shuffled and pirouetted about their almost motionless
partners. One young fellow, about six feet in height, was of
very slender build and his legs seemed to vibrate in unison
with the violin strings; his performance would have received
applause before any audience, nor was he without honor in his
own country. The men wore their hats throughout the even-
ing and usually had pipes in their mouths. In forming a set
fora reel, they chatted and smoked for awhile, until, as if sud-
denly remembering what they were there for, each selected his
partner and crooked his finger at her as a signal; whereupon
she took her place beside him; if she hesitated she was assisted
—forcibly—to the floor. The bride appeared in three different
costumes during the evening. The first, of course, was the
wedding dress, according to the custom of the country a pres-
ent from the groom; in return, the bride had made a pair of
fine silk-worked moccasins for him. The ball closed with the
kissing dance, a ceremony I did not stay to witness.

As Antoine’s supplies were not quite exhausted the feast and
dance were repeated on the following evening. There was very
little liquor obtainable, and the dancers were comparatively
quiet, except for a few yells by which they gave vent to their
exuberant feelings, while in the violent contortions of an eight-
hand reel. The young women were accompanied by their
mothers and when not engaged in dancing, remained seated
upon the floor in a separate group.

New-year’s day is the principal holiday in the calendar for
the Indians of the North. The wedding “ festin” reduced one
or two families to the point of starvation, but at New-year the
whole settlement became bankrupt. The Indians have readily
adopted the custom, somewhat modified, of the whites, in ob-
servance of the day. They make calls in the morning and
gorge themselves with food and great quantities of tea; the

24 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

afternoon is spent in dog-racing and football, and in the even-
ing occurs the dance of the season. New-year’s day is called
O-che-mi-ki-se-gi or Kissing Day, as it is the custom to kiss
everyone on that day, young and old. This would be more
agreeable if one were allowed a little more discretion in his
choice.

In the morning we were visited by a party of boys with sacks
in which to carry away cakes (bread). No sooner were they
gone, than a dozen muskets discharged outside the door an-
nounced the arrival of the men, who were given cakes, or meat
and tea, at every house. They were followed by the women
who usually finished whatever remained. In the evening at
least a hundred people gathered in the cabin where the dance
was held and the room was so crowded that the dancers had
very little space left them.

Every cent of “debt” that can be secured is spent upon
flour, bacon, tea, rice, raisins, and sugar, and for one day Peter
Mink is happy even though he starves for the next six. Each
woman must have a new dress and each man appears in a pair
of new silk-worked moccasins.

Marriage. Early marriages are the rule. Policy and business
considerations, here as elsewhere, have their influence upon
the match. Peter Mink must have someone to dress moose-
skins and make moccasins for him. Mary Rabbitskin is a
burden the paternal Rabbitskin would gladly relinquish to the
care of Peter, if he is a good hunter. The affair is managed
by the “old wives,” as the married women are called.

Just before I arrived, Grand Rapids had been profoundly
stirred by its first breach of promise case. The defendant’s
mother urged him to marry the plaintiff but it was only after
a long course of nagging that he consented. At the appointed
time his heart failed him, the sacrifice in complying with his
mother’s wishes was too great. He took to the bush, flatly
refusing to fulfill his promise. Day after day the bride awaited
Donald’s coming and day after day the truant bridegroom be-
took himself to the muskeg, until the plaintiff presented her
grievance before the Indian agent, praying for heavy damages.
The magistrate imposed a fine of twenty-five dollars and ordered
the defendant to leave the reserve. His only excuse was that
he loved another. Two months later he married a third girl.

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 25

Houses. The peace-loving Wood Crees have readily taken
up a sedentary life. They remain in cabins upon the reserve
throughout the year, with the exception of a few who move
down the lake during the fishing season or spend the winter in
pursuit of game. Before he was “civilized” the Cree moved
his lodge of deer or mooseskin from place to place, so that
his surroundings were always fresh and clean. His habitation
is now fixed, but so are the old habits, and the filth simply
accumulates. There is but one reserve in the Lower Saskatche-
wan region that has any reputation for cleanliness—and it is
occupied by “heathen” Indians. Each house has usually but
one room. The roof of poles is covered with earth; this does
very well in winter, at other seasons the rain soon washes
through. Roofs are sometimes made of spruce bark, but these
are not so warm in winter. The door is closed by a bar, the
latchstring being “ always out.”” You enter without knocking,
of course, and look upon a small cheerless apartment. There
is a rude fireplace with a chimney built of grass, stones and
clay; the floor is rough and not clean; there is no ceiling.
Some have a few chairs, dishes and a stove, and stationary
bunks against the walls, others have no furniture whatever.
The two dirty gray blankets which cover the family at night
are aired during the day upon the nearest tree. They sit upon
the floor when eating and in that position what need is there
of a table?

In summer they sometimes abandon the house, especially if
a death has recently occurred in it, and live in the ordinary
conical lodge made of canvas. While there is yet open water
some who are trappers go with their families to the hunting
grounds and construct a lodge-shaped winter dwelling of split
poles, which, when covered with earth and snow, is quite warm
and comfortable. Others are covered with spruce or birch-
bark, or, if the owner has an antipathy towards manual labor,
the framework of the poles is covered with sacking, blankets,
rags, and loose strips of bark. The best lodges for mild
weather are made of ducking, forty yards being required for
each. A piece of sacking or old blanket is hung over the low
doorway; a stick, a little longer than the oval opening, is tied
to the bottom of the “door,” to keep it spread, prevent it from
swinging in, and to serve as a handle in lifting the door flap to

26 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

enter. Within, an open fire burns in the center beneath the
broad smoke hole at the apex of the cone. The floor is car-
peted with spruce boughs. The occupants do not stand up
inside the lodge as their heads would then be in the smoke, but
sit crosslegged upon blankets around the fire.

Sir Francis Drake in describing the Indian lodges near
Golden Gate, says: “Their houses are digged round within the
earth and have from the vpper-most brimmes of the circle clefts
of wood set vp and ioyned close together at the top, like our
spires on the steeple of a church; which being couered with
earth, suffer no water to enter, and are very warm; the doore
in the most part of them performes also the office of a chimney
to let out the smoke: its made in bignesse and fashion like to
an ordinary scuttle in a ship, and standing slopewise: their
beds are the hard ground onley with rushes strewed vpon it,
and lying round about the house, haue their fire in the middest,
which by reason that the house is but low vaulted, round and
close, giveth a maruelous reflexion to their bodies to heate
the same.”’!

This description, written in 1579, is equally applicable to-day.
Warburton Pike, writing three hundred years later, says,
‘There is no better camp than a well-set-up lodge with a good
fire crackling in the middle.”? When the temperature falls to
sixty degrees below zero a ‘maruelous reflexion” is needed to
‘“heate the same.” The adult inmates are lightly clothed and
the children half naked. At night there is but one three-point
blanket for each person. The fire soon goes out and it is then
a question of endurance. In this battle with the frost, the
Cree wraps his blanket around his body and head, leaving his
feet exposed.

Dress. Capotes are worn in winter; these are light, hooded
frock coats, of fine woolen cloth, unlined and ornamented with
a double row of brass buttons. This is the “‘fine-cloth capote”
so dear to the heart of the voyageur. A capote of cheaper and
coarser cloth is worn by the poorer class. but the rough cloth
is not impervious to the wind and snow. The hood protects
the neck and head from the winds and from masses of snow
dislodged from the trees in traversing the bush. They are
short and do not obstruct the limbs in running on snow-shoes.

1The World Encompassed, p. 121
® Barren Ground of Canada, p. 37.

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 24

Belts are worn at all seasons. The best are called l’Assump-
tion belts; they are woven from heavy threads and are from
four to six inches wide and eight to ten feet in length. They
are girded around—not above—the hip bones. The belt is
used as a tompline or packing rope, to mend dog harness, or
wherever a line is needed. The cord fringe at the ends usually
has a finger ring and the key to the wearer’s cassette tied in it.
The belt is wound twice around the body and tied in front,
leaving the long fringe hanging. As they are variegated with
all the colors of the rainbow they form a conspicuous part of
the apparel of the Indians and métis.

Imported caps, or Canadian tucques, are worn in winter. In
summer the costume is that of civilized man except for the belt
and moccasins. The women wear dresses of light, though
expensive material, which is wholly unsuited to their needs.
They endure the greatest hardship and exposure without a
murmur. Winter moccasins are made large enough to contain
a square piece of duffel or old blanketing in lieu of socks.
With heavy duffles I had no difficulty in keeping my feet warm
on the coldest days; even when they were bound with the snow-
shoe lines I never froze them. No matter how cold it may be
the moccasins become damp from contact with the snow and
must be dried at night. When wet, they wear away quickly; a
wet, stony trail will wear holes in new moccasins in two hours.
They are made of mooseskin with deerskin or cloth tops,
which fold around the ankle. A small piece of snow-white
deerskin, bordered with colored horse hair and embroidered
with silk and beads, is placed over the instep. There is very
little beadwork done at present at Grand Rapids and I did not
see anything at all comparable to the beautiful transparent
beadwork of the Ojibways.

Treaty. In 1875 Lieutenant Governor Alexander Morris,
and Hon. James McKay, commissioner and interpreter, went
among the Crees and Sauteux of Lake Winnipeg, proposing
that a treaty be drawn up between the Great Mother and her
Red Children, whereby the country was to be opened to white
settlement and the Indians placed upon reserves as wards of
the government. The old, blind chief, Peter Beardy, and Joe
Atkinson, two intelligent half-castes, I found could speak Eng-
lish fluently. Both were fond of repeating the story of the

28 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

governor’s visit. ‘This is the way it was laid down to the
Indian” said Old Joe. “I will give you cattle, horses, sheep,
hogs, and poultry. If you desire them, J will furnish you with
a carpenter, a blacksmith, and a farmer, that you may learn
these trades. I will give you a doctor and a school-teacher. I
will provide you with scythes to cut grass, tools and machinery
to till the soil, twine from which to make nets, rations of food
and an annual gift of money. We will care for you as if you
were our children. As long as the sun shall shine and the
water run, this promise shall never be at an end.”

The Indians made no demands but signed the treaty without
protest. One of the leading men of the band asked that a
copy of the treaty be made at once and left with them. ‘We
have no time now,” was the answer. ‘“ We are using a borrowed
boat and must push on at once.” The chief brought a copy of
the treaty to me. It was wrapped in an old apron with a few
letters and a quantity of aromatic leaves. This document stated
that cattle would be given to the thirty families on the reserve;
a school-teacher would be provided and they would be fur-
nished “once for all” with plows, hoes, etc.; $500.00 per annum
was to be expended in purchasing ammunition and netting
twine for the reserves contained in Treaty Number Five, nearly
fifty in all, embracing an area of about one hundred thousand
square miles.!. For a number of years this has not been suffi-
cient to provide one-third the twine necessary to make one net
for each family. The rations issued amounted anually to eight
pounds of flour, a little bacon, tea and tobacco for each man.
The attempts to make the Crees self supporting have not been
very succcessful.

Cattle to the number of twelve head, were placed on the
reserve twenty-five years ago. A fewyears later a second lot
were received, nearly all of which died of starvation during
the next winter. In 1892 seven more arrived and these, too,
were dying when I left the post in February. Hay was scarce
and of poor quality. It was cut from the marshes which were
overflowed by the lake in stormy weather. The severe gale
previously mentioned destroyed the diminutive stacks of hay
which had been left to be hauled by dog teams during the
winter. The Indians are not allowed to sell their cattle, to kill

1 Begg, Alex., History of the Northwest, Vol. II, APP. P. 44.

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 29
them, or to hire out their oxen to the whites. They had but
one ox that could be used in hauling and the poor beast had a
hard time of it. They said, “We do not desire these cattle, we
have no one to show us how to care for them. Why should
we raise cattle for the Indian Department, anyway?” In the
spring when the supply runs low, they rob each other’s hay
caches and even steal from the Company’s stack at the post.

The reserve is simply a wooded swamp with a narrow strip
of dry land along the river and yet they were told that the four
miles of reserve would not include the muskeg but would be
all dry land.

Medicine. The Government furnishes a stock of medicines
which are dispensed by the Company’s clerk. Castor oil is
the most popular medicine and children have been known to
drink a small bottleful thinking it to be fish oil of rather
extra quality. The Company sells a patent cure-all made in
“America” as the United States is called in that region, in
which the natives have implicit faith. It is used whenever
obtainable, whether it is required or not.

The clown, Sagames, a few years ago, conceived the idea that
a stone was forming in his chest and that any over-exertion on
his part would be the cause of his immediate death. Notwith-
standing the fact that Mrs. Sagames and the children were
starving, he persisted in keeping his bed throughout the win-
ter but was “brought round” in the spring by a wonderful
medicine prepared by the post keeper. It was a mixture of
the dregs of some old medicine bottles, with Worcestershire
sauce and cayenne pepper as the principal ingredients. At
nearly every post that I visited such cures of imaginary diseases
were reported.

Old Antoine was the most skillful doctor in the settlement.
He showed me about thirty deerskin bags containing herbs from
which medicines to cure every disease might be concocted,
and assured me that if it were summer he would show me
the plants and how to gather the roots or leaves. He said that
he had cured cases of cataracts in the eyes of dogs, but had
never tried his remedy upon a fellow-being.! He took the
ends of long bones and burned them, reducing the ashes to a

1 The Eskimos are said to remove “specks” from the eyes with calcined
bones. (Bompas, Morthern Lights, p. 150).

30 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

fine powder by pounding on deerskin. This was blown into
the affected eyes, two applications being sufficient to produce
a complete cure. A doctor had visited them four times in
eighteen years, “as a bird passing,” the chief said. Every man,
woman and child, receives an annual “treaty” of five dollars
in cash. This is taken in “debt” as soon as the last gratuity is
paid. If a death occurs the head of the family who has “taken
up” the annuity refuses to pay the Company when he receives
the money. He thinks that an act of Providence annuls the
obligation to pay. Not only do they take up the next year’s an-
nuity for the whole family but they even ask for “debt” on
account of an unborn child. They remember the verbal
promise that “all shall be treated alike” and are well aware of
the fact that the surrounding tribes are treated far better than
they; that the Plain Crees, for example, receive weekly rations,
and have blankets and other necessaries furnished them.

School. In January, 1893, I visited the school maintained by
the government for the education of the children of treaty
Indians. The building had been erected by the Indians them-
selves; the walls were warped and cracks gaping. Holes in the
roof admitted the sunshine or the storm. The door hung
‘“‘slopewise,” the floor was rough and broken. The register of
the previous quarter contained under the head of “Remarks,”
the following protest: ‘The Department’s attention has been
repeatedly called to the deplorable condition of the school
building which still remains in the need of repairs. It is not
fit to house cattle in.” There were no desks, the children sit-
ting upon benches and keeping their books beside them.
There were twelve slates for thirty pupils. They seemed to be
quite as mischievous as white children, and their attention was
easily distracted from the work in hand. On being asked the
day of the week by the missionary teacher, one young hopeful
answered January, another said it was “fifty-two weeks.” Yet
the instructor assured me that they had been taught the days
of the week almost daily for months. One boy about fourteen
years old read from the second reader and translated readily
from Cree to English. He also had a fair knowledge of the
elementary rules of arithmetic.

The instruction is oral aided by slates and charts. The
children are taught numbers, reading and writing, spelling,

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 31

geography, grammar, (stc) vocal music, and especially the
English language. Their training appeared to the best ad-
vantage when they sang hymns in their mother tongue. They
also sang in English hymns wholly unintelligible to themselves
and nearly so to the listener.

On the playground I found the boys engaged in a game of
football. The “ground” was a little opening among the pines
surrounding the building, where three feet of snow had been
packed firm and hard by the tread of many moccasins. The
ball was made of rags and about six inches in diameter, irreg-
ular in shape and very light, but not too light for the feet of
the players protected only by moccasins. A genuine “rush”
would have resulted in the total demolition of the wearing
apparel of the participants, who wore the cast-off tatters of
their elders.

At noon each pupil was given two hard-tack biscuits for
lunch. This was supposed to be sufficient inducement to bring
them to school. Many of the children ate the meat or fish they
had brought with them andcarried the hard-tack to their parents.

Mission. About twenty years ago an Episcopal mission was
established at Grand Rapids, then included in the diocese of
Rupert’s Land. The Indians built the church and missionary
residence, so the buildings are their own and not the property
of the church as other missions, where the land is set apart by
the government. The church is a barn like structure of hewn
logs, with very little furniture within and no decoration what-
ever. The bell is hung upon a tower apart from the building.
The manse is a low roofed cabin, very cold in winter and very
muddy in summer when the rain washes out the clay with
which it is chinked. The missionary receives a small salary
from the church missionary society of England, which also
provides Bibles and hymn books, printed in the Cree language.
Both the syllabic! and the Roman characters are used in these
publications, and nearly all can read. They possess a natural
talent for vocal music and their language being a musical one?
the choral service is very pleasing to the ear.

They cannot comprehend sectarian differences and do not

1 A syllabic alphabet was invented by a Cherokee Indian named George

Guess, in 1826. A system of syllabic characters was independently devised
by James Evans, a missionary at Norway House, on the northeast shore of

32 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH.

understand why their minister objects to their children associat-
ing with those of the Roman Catholic Pierre Jean Fran¢ois,
who live on the left bank of the river opposite the reserve.

The Saskatchewan. The Saskatchewan, or as it is called by
the natives—Kissiskatchewan (Swift Current), is said to drain
a larger area of fertile land than any other river in the British
Empire. The melting snows in the Rocky Mountains main-
tain a sufficient depth of water to enable light draft steamers to
run as far as Edmonton on the North and Lethbridge on the.
South Branch. The two branches unite about four hundred.
and fifty miles above the mouth. Like nearly all the rivers of
the Northwest and North, the Saskatchewan has not only a
“swift current” but alsomany rapids. The largest of these, the
Grand Rapids, are within five miles of the mouth, where the
river breaks through a series of limestone ridges

Grand Rapids was the scene of an interesting chapter in the
history of the conflict between the fur companies in the early
part of this century. During the month of July, 1819, Gov.
William Williams of the Hudson’s Bay Company, with a number
of clerks and engagés and a force of discharged soldiers of the
DeMeuron’s regiment, there met the brigade of boats bringing
down the Northern furs of the northwest Company. His men
were armed with muskets, two four-pound guns, and a number
of swivels from Hudson’s Bay. The last mile of the rapids.
could not be ascended by loaded boats so a trail had been cut,
from a little cover below the gorge, through the heavy forest to
the smooth but swift water a mile above. In running down, the
Lake Winnipeg. This Cree syllabary was perfected in 1841. It has been
described at length by Dr. McLean in his work entitled, Yames Evans, In-

ventor of the Syllabic System of the Cree Language, 1890. The system is based
upon the phonetic principle, and each character represents a syllable, thus—

~] ma [~ me _] mo Li ma
Y cha ( ché d cho |, cha, etc.
Only thirty-six characters are required for the Cree language.
Archdeacon McDonald, of McPherson, has invented a more cumbrous
system for the Loucheux language, which employs the Roman letters,
but contains about 500 syllables, which “notwithstanding the apparent dif-
ficulty, some of the Indians have learned in a fortnight.” Dr. McLean in
a letter to J.C. Pilling, Biography of the Athabascan Languages, p. 59.
Compare Petitot: “La lang crise est douce, sonore, musicale et trés
scandeé. C’est l’italien du Nord-Ouest.” Legends, p. 446.

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 33

bourgeois of the Northwest Company walked across the por-
tage and were taken prisoners by the superior force lying in
wait at the cove. These gentlemen were confined for some
time on a small round island—now called Prisoners’ Island—in
the middle of the stream, and then taken to York Factory,
where they were treated with great cruelty.

In the latter part of the eighteenth and the beginning of the
present century, six to eight hundred men were sometimes
encamped at this portage. Then, the narrow lane cut through
the forest was worn by the feet of dark-skinned porters. Now,
the silence is unbroken save by the chickaree and the impudent
whiskey jack, and the path is grass grown. The little clearing
contains a few mounds with crumbling crosses that mark the
resting place of a few “unknown.”

During the summer months the rapids are frequented by
double-crested cormorants, white pelicans, and large numbers
of ring-billed gulls.

In 1877 the Company built a tramway, nearly four miles in
length, from the steamboat landing below to the river a mile
above the head of the rapids, at which point dwellings and
warehouses were built. Four miles above are the Roche Rouge
Rapids; river steamers ascend these by the aid of lines and don-
key engines. The heaviest rapids besides the Grand Rapids, are
those of the Demi-charge, thirteen miles above ‘‘ The Portage,”
as the buildings at the head of the tramway are called. At the
foot of Demi-charge, lies Calico Island,so named in 1872, when
the first river steamer went to pieces in the rapids and her
cargo, containing a large quantity of calico, was spread out upon
the island to dry. Seven miles above the Demi-charge Rapids
is another stretch of rough water and beyond this the short and
narrow ‘steamboat channel,” leading out of Cedar Lake. On
the south bank, near the rapids, two or three crumbling chim-
neys mark the site of a long abandoned trading station called
the “ Flying Post.”! In 1892 two Indian cabins stood upon the
lake shore near the channel, affording a convenient shelter for
passing travelers, as they were about halfway between the posts.

Fifteen miles from the Narrows, the boat route turns sharply

1Hind calls this station ‘‘Cedar Lake House, a winter trading post of the
Hon. Hudson’s Bay Company, lately established,” etc. Report on the North-

west Territory, 1858, p. 76.
3

34 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

to the north around Rabbit Point,a muskeg terminated by reefs
and shoals. On the 21st of November, 1819, Mr. Benjamin
Frobisher, of the Northwest Company, died from starvation and
exposure at this point. Accompanied by two Canadian voy-
ageurs, he had made his way from York Factory—a distance of
over five hundred miles—only to die there within two days
march of Moose Lake House. He had been one of the party
captured the preceding June at Grand Rapids, but had escaped
from captivity, and after months of suffering and hardship
reached Rabbit Point. His companions, with nothing but
moose leather to eat, had carried him from the Narrows, but
their strength gave out and hewas left at the Point, while they
sought assistance from the post. A rescuing party found his
remains, burned by the fire into which in his weakness he had
fallen while trying to renew it.!

The Winnipeg country is said to have been visited by Cana-
dians in the latter part of the seventeenth century. Joseph La
France, in 1740-42, was the first to traverse the intricate network
of lakes and rivers connecting Lake Winnipeg with Hudson’s
Bay. It was not till 1774 that Samuel Hearne reached the
Saskatchewan and established the post at Cumberland; while
the first Red River post of the Hudson’s Bay Company was
established in 1799.

For over two hundred years the Saskatchewan was the only
practicable route to the Athabasca River and the Far North.
After the consolidation of the fur companies, in 1821, goods
were brought in by way of York Factory. The boats used by
the company were called York boats because of their annual
journey down to York. They were long and open, the rake of
bow and stern being alike, guided by a heavy sweep passing
through a ring in the sternpost. They were manned bya crew
of six or eight oarsmen and a steersman. They were capable
of carrying ten tons, would stand rough usage, and were easily
repaired. With a full wind, a sail quickly improvised from tar-
paulins allowed ‘‘a spell” to the crew, who usually worked to
the limit of their endurance in their haste to reach their destina-
tion, before the short summer closed. These brigades were
made up of the Canadian voyageurs, and Cree, Sauteux, and
Northern Indians.

1(Masson, G. R.), Les Bourgeois , Vol. 11, p. 179.

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 35

The long and dangerous boat route to York Factory was
abandoned when the railway reached Red River. The Sas-
katchewan itself found its occupation gone when the “ Northern
Outfit” crossed the plains by rail to Calgary, and later to
Edmonton.

I am indebted to Mr. Angus McLean, clerk in charge at
Grand Rapids since 1878, for the following information concern-
ing the river traffic. Saskatchewan freight was carried in York
boats until 1874, when the steamer ‘ Northcote” was built. In
the summer of 1877 she made four trips to Edmonton. She
was of too heavy draft for the river and now lies at Cumber-
land. The first river steamer was built at Grand Rapids in 1872,
and was wrecked at Demi-charge Rapids on her first trip,
before she had gone twenty miles. She had not yet been
named, being known simply as “the first boat.”” The “ North-
west” was built at Grand Forks, North Dakota, and came to
the Saskatchewan in 1882, passing the Grand Rapids with ‘her
machinery in place. She still makes one or two trips each year,
supplying the river posts of the Hudson’s Bay Company. In
1882 another steamer, ‘The City of Winnipeg,” intended for
river traffic, was wrecked near Long Point while being towed
across Lake Winnipeg. The steamer ‘“ Manitoba,” also coming
from Red River, as the settlement between Winnipeg and the
lake is called, was taken through the Grand Rapids without her
machinery. Her career was very brief, terminating at Prince
Albert, where she was crushed in the ice. In 1877 the steel
steamer “Lily” was built at Grand Rapids. She proved to be of
too heavy draft and was in use for only a short time. These
were all stern-wheel steamers drawing, when loaded, from two to
three and a half feet of water. The “Marquis” was the largest
carrying two hundred and fifty tons, the others two hundred
and twenty each.

Ooskanatchet. Early in February I visited old Ooskanatchet,
at the Narrows. He was said to know more Cree legends than
anyone else in that region, and I had already exhausted the
stock of myths at Grand Rapids. I found the old man very
talkative, but it required liberal gifts of tea and tobacco to
induce him to speak of the mythical beings in whose existence
he had implicit faith; he was the only Indian on the Lower
Saskatchewan who had not accepted christianity. He said that

36 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the Pauguk, or Death Demon, had appeared to him,a sign that
his course was nearly run. He and his “old wife” made an
image of Pauguk for me of substantial birch wood and moose-
skin. This creation, dressed in mooseskin and daubed with
paint—representing the most terrible of all spiritual powers,
preceded me on the voyage home, where, upon my return
I found it temporarily entered in the museum catalogue as
“Indian Doll.” Ooskanatchet gave me his peace-pipe—with
the request that it be preserved in the museum, which I had
described to him. The bowl, of fine-grained sandstone, he
had obtained, perhaps a half century before, from Red Deer
River, west of Lake Winnipegoosis; the stem was from a shrub
called nepemenana. The old man solemnly and ceremoniously
filled and lighted the pipe, then turned the stem towards the
four cardinal points, towards the zenith and nadir, took two or
three puffs, and then handed it tome. I did not wish to offend
by refusing to take two or three whiffs, but I did not use
tobacco and not for all the tribal wampum would I have smoked
that nicotine-soaked uspwahgun, filled with negro-head to-
bacco.

His medicine drum was very similar in shape to an old fash-
ioned dasher churn. It was of birch wood, a foot in diameter
by eighteen inches in height. The head was of mooseskin
parchment dampened and stretched when used. The drumstick
was a birch rod bent at a sharp angle, as shown in the figure.
The drum is accompanied by a rattle, formerly made of moose-
skin parchment with gravel enclosed, but the advancement of
modern civilization and the old man’s inventive genius had sub-
stituted a tomato can containing a few grains of shot, with a
handle attached by thongs.

He warned me not to take whiskey jack’s or crow’s eggs dur-
ing my spring collecting. No matter how valuable they might
be, I would certainly have bad luck if I tampered with the nests
of these birds. Old Antoine, who interpreted for me, said that
he had once found the nest of a whiskey jack or Canada jay,
and since then several of his children had died; this proved the
matter conclusively.

Ooskanatchet was unusually liberal in his gifts and one might
have inferred that he anticipated a speedy departure from this
life. I had learned not to be too profuse in my thanks under

37

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES

I.
2.

DRAWINGS ON OOSKANATCHET’S DRUM.
The lines were burnt with a hot iron. The eyes and row of dots in the arch are of brass-headed tacks.
Wesagatchac. 3. Figure of a turtle opposite Wesagatchac.
Figure of a bear. There were two of these. 4. Drumstick—a birch rod.

38 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

such circumstances, as it all usually resulted in a request for a
‘‘present” of tea and tobacco. I promised to pay for the arti-
cles received when IJ returned to the store, and then his scheme
was disclosed, showing that his faith in Pauguk had less to do
with the disposal of the pipe than had his appetite for butter
and milk. He was allowed to live at the Narrows by special
permission, and received his annuity at Chemawawin. He
wished me to write a letter to the Indian agent in Winnipeg
asking for two cows to be kept at the Narrows. The letter was
written when I reached the city, but,I fear, with less diplomatic
skill in its composition than the old man would have displayed.

Ooskanatchet had a family of four boys on whom he had
bestowed peculiar names, perhaps with a desire to advertise his
medicine “business.” Ammogabo, or Aleck, the best moose
hunter in the country, was the oldest. Another was called
Owatches, or child; a third, Kemootisk, Thief, and the last bore
the suggestive name of Wihtigoosis, Little Cannibal or Little
Devil.

Sturgeon were abundant in the lake before his door, and the
swift current prevented the ice from forming for any length of
time in the river channel, so that nets could be set during the
winter. The surrounding forest contained caribou and moose,
and a few fur bearing animals, by trapping which, and by the
sale of sturgeon and moose meat, they lived very comfortably.
I tried to engage Aleck for the trip to the Far North, but his
father and mother were afraid that their food supply would fail
if that faithful provider left them. They could not comprehend
the fact that I would arrange to have regular rations given them
at the post. They were also afraid of the influence evil spirits
in strange lands might have upon their boy, though Aleck him-
self was quite willing to go.

In returning to the post next day we had to cross the river
where the current had worn the ice very thin. The ominous
gurgle from the hummocks of snow and the black patches of
open water showed the dangerous character of the frail bridge,
half a milein length. We were accompanied by the Thief, who
was on his way to the post with a sled loaded with sturgeon.
Antoine could not think of traveling for four hours without
‘boiling the kettle,” so we stopped and melted snow for tea
and fried a little bacon. The Thief had brought his kettle of

THE SASKATCHEWAN NATIVES 39

tea nearly to a boil when the burning sticks fell beneath it and
it was all spilled. Not gaining wisdom by experience he
allowed this to happen a second time, after which I did not
wonder that Ooskanatchet was afraid to depend upon him and
the Little Devil for support.

Tea Kettles. The tea kettles—‘‘ copper kettles’”’—used in the
North and Northwest are tin-lined copper pails having a close
fitted lid with a ring riveted in the centre. There are no seams
to melt in the intense heat of a winter camp fire, and they are
sufficiently heavy to withstand the hard usage of camp life.
The smallest hold but one pint. The two quart size is the one
used by two men traveling together and one filling is never
enough to satisfy their thirst.

Provision. In summer, in the Northwest, the bread is baked
enroute. Itis made of flour and water only, no leavening agent
being used. The dough is made very stiff and is worked for
some time. It is kneaded into flat circular cakes of a size to
fit the frying pan, in which they are baked before the fire, the
pan resting on the ground and inclined so that the heat falls
upon the top of the loaf; the handle of the pan is supported by
an upright stick set in the ground. If the traveler has no fry-
ing pan the bread is baked in a “beaver tail.” Such a loaf is
long and narrow and is exposed to the fire upon a stick, the
lower end being set in the ground; two or three cross sticks, the
size of an ordinary skewer, are required to prevent the loaf
from breaking and falling as it bakes. The natives in their
haste usually eat these cakes before they are thoroughly cooked.

In the winter the bread is all baked before starting on the
journey and is thawed when it is to be used. Fish are boiled if
a second kettle is to be had; if not, they are opened along the
back and roasted upon a stick set in the ground in the snow.
Meat is usually boiled just enough to cook the outside. It may
be roasted ona stick or suspended from a pole, cut for the pur-
pose. Very little salt is used. Coffee is unknown. Side
bacon or “cogos” is the greatest luxury in the North, though
now becoming common at southern posts. Grand Rapids has
imported a little butter of late years, and the Indians are very
fond of it. They spread butter, bacon grease, deer’s or bear’s
grease, all on the same piece of bread if they are so fortunate
as to have them all. I regarded this appetite for grease in a

40 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

very different light after I had lived a few months under similar
conditions in the Far North.

The term “Far North” is applied to the Territory beyond the
Great Slave Lake. The‘ Northwest” is between the Red River
and the Athabasca River, beyond which lies the “North.” All
is included in the ‘Northern Department” of the Hudson’s
Bay Company, which has subdivided it into some half dozen
fur districts.

CHAPTER III
ALBERTA

HAT I might descend the Mackenzie River by the first

open water, it was necessary to leave Grand Rapids while
the sledge travel was still good. A dog train was being sent to
Selkirk, the nearest railway point, and my outfit was to be car-
ried by it while I walked or ran with the men in charge of the
team.

On the morning of February 2oth, I bade farewell to the little
group of natives that had gathered tosee us off. Some of them
had been friendly and hospitable and I parted from them with
regret. We were accompanied, for the first day, by Mr. Mc-
Lean, who camped with us at night on the portage across Long
Point, near the scene of our moose hunting adventures of the
autumn. During the night the dogs broke into the sled and ate
all our bacon. At the time I was partially conscious that
something was amiss, but was too exhausted to become fully
aroused. It seemed as if an assembly of fiends was combating
for the possession of our camp. Over the sleds, across our
prostrate bodies, and through the smouldering fire the dogs
fought, snarling and howling. The next day they were sorry
looking dogs, and the one that ate the most bacon was a very
sick cur. Fortunately for us there was a hunter’s cabin on our
route which we reached at noon. The owners of the shanty
were absent upon a hunting trip in the bush, but there were
several hundred pounds of fresh and dried moose meat on the
scaffolds and from this we replenished our stock of provision.
Small packages of tea, tobacco, etc., accompanied by a few
lines in syllabic characters, written upon birch-bark or smooth
pine sticks, showed that other visitors had drawn upon the meat
caches for supplies. My companions examined every bundle
and ransacked the premises before they could be induced to

41

42 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

prepare our meal. They had to formulate satisfactory theories
regarding the previous visitors before they could bring their
minds to bear upon the work in hand.

With two young métis, I left our escort of three trains at the
cabin, and started down the low-lying shore toward the Nar-
rows of Lake Winnipeg. Frequent light snowfalls caused the
sled to drag heavily so that we did not walk more than thirty
miles each day. One evening as we were about to camp,a dark
object in advance caused Donald, the man before the dogs (the
hero—or victim—of the breach of promise case of the previous
autumn), to halt; as we came up the boys discussed the strange
appearance for some time, and finally concluded that it could
not be Wenisk or Kakapasis, so it must be Pascapeet returning
from Reindeer Island. The supposed dog train grew larger as
we advanced and finally developed into a heap of broken ice!

The dogs were shod with canvas “shoes,” which caused the
driver no end of trouble and the dogs much suffering. The
shoes were narrow, shapeless bags and soon filled with ice
after leaving camp. They were intended to prevent the feet
of the animals from being cut by the sharp, granular under-
crust into which they were thrust in hauling. Judging from
later experience, I greatly question whether ‘‘dog-shoes”’ are of
any real service.

The load was lightened daily as our own provision was con-
sumed and twenty-five or thirty pounds of fish were given to
the dogs. Several pounds were also cached for the return trip.
The problem of transportation of provision is as yet unsolved
by the Northern voyageur. He lacks the reindeer that can
forage by the way, nor has he the concentrated pemmican or
blubber of the arctic explorer. Scarcely any heavier form of
dog food than frozen fish can be found, and the length of sled
trips are accordingly limited to ten or twelve days’ duration
unless game is to be had or camps found on the way.

On the fourth night we encamped ona little island far out
from the western shore, with a clear horizon of snow-covered
lake upon all sides, save a few islands near us. The island was
encircled by drifts ten feet in depth. The temperature fell to
forty-five degrees below zero, so cold was it that a birch ax
handle snapped like a pipestem while cutting wood. I over-
heard Aleck saying to his companion during the night, ‘ Kis-

ALBERTA 43

sinao, tapwa, kissinao,”—“It is cold, truly, it is cold.” When
the natives drew the blankets closer upon their shivering forms
I felt that there was some cause for my own aches and sleep-
lessness.

On the sixth day we crossed the traverse of Fisher Bay and
endeavored to reach Dog Head, a Company’s post at the Nar-
rows. We walked until nearly midnight across the trackless
lake, directing our course by the moon, just visible through the
haze. We were without food and had a storm arisen would
have been ina dangerous predicament. We came upona huge
crack in the ice,a common occurrence in lake travel in spring,
and searched some time in the darkness for a bridge across the
black ribbon of thinice. We reached the land at last, at a point
only five miles from the post; not knowing where we were, we
camped with only enough wood to boil a kettle of tea and with
nothing to eat, though we had run sixty miles that day. My
clothing was wet with perspiration and I passed a sleepless
night. Soon after daybreak we reached the post and, owing to
the absence of the clerk,it was some time before we could have
our wants supplied. Our breakfast of tasteless boiled beef
without salt and bread without butter was heartily enjoyed.

I ordered bread to be baked for the remainder of the trip and
then drowsily watched the boys roll themselves in their blank-
ets under the breakfast table. We all slept until late in the
afternoon when we pushed on to Bull Head, where we passed
the night in a fisherman’s shanty. After six nights inthe snow
the chilly little garret where we slept seemed oppressively
warm.

We started the next morning upon a good track, expecting
to reach a cabin, thirty-seven miles distant, at the bottom of
Humbug Bay, by nightfall. A strong, penetrating wind blew
directly in our faces; this soon drifted the road full of soft snow
into which we sank to the ankles, yet all were suffering too
much from mal de racquette to wear snow-shoes. The tempera-
ture was twenty-two degrees below zero. At noon we ate our
lunch at an abandoned sawmill. Toward evening we met a
fisherman from Selkirk with whom my men were acquainted,
and of course they were invited to havea drink of whiskey.
Soon afterward a passing stranger also shared his whiskey with
them, with the result that one of them came dashing past me

44 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

stretched out on thesled with his feet dragging, alternately ply-
ing the whip and swearing at the dogs, and singing hymns in
Cree. The other stumbled along for a while and then fell by
the track where he lay several hours.

I had expected to ride the remaining eighty-five miles, which
was over an excellent track kept open by the ox-teams of fish
freighters; but my driver was too ill to walk, from the effects of
the overdose of bad whiskey upon a stomach accustomed to
nothing stronger than black tea, so that he occupied the sled
the following day.

A few miles from Humbug Bay we reached the northern limit
of the colony of Icelanders, which occupies a considerable por-
tion of the west shore of lower Lake Winnipeg. The well-built,
steep-roofed, and whitewashed log houses were in marked con-
trast with the low squalid cabins of the Indians. The men are
employed as fishermen on the lake in summer and as lumber-
men in winter. They have cleared small farms which produce
vegetables and some grain. There is usually abundant pastur-
age for their cattle, and fish are plenty in the lake near by.
“But it is not our Iceland, if we did starve there sometimes,”
said a silver-haired old woman who kept the “‘stopping-place”’
where we obtained lunch that day. On the following day, the
tenth from Grand Rapids, as Aleck was able to run again, I
occupied the cariole myself. We reached Selkirk after night-
fall in the midst of a blinding snowstorm.

Taking the boys with me to the hotel, I had the pleasure of
seeing them, for once, fully satisfied with food. They had run
forty miles that day on a hard track, more tiring to the muscles
than ordinary snow. The grinning waiter kept the supply of
food replenished and a pained expression came over their faces
as they realized that there really was a limit to their capacity.

Hastily boxing my outfit, which it had been necessary to carry
thus far in bags, I reached Winnipeg by rail the next morning,
March 2nd.

Up to this time I had not had access to any of the accounts of
Franklin, Back, Richardson and others who had passed through
the fur countries, and my plans were necessarily somewhat
indefinite as to the point at which to leave the main route in
search of musk-ox; I had concluded, after reading Pike’s Nar-
rative they could not be reached from the Great Slave Lake
without great risk and hardship.

ALBERTA 45

The following letter received at this time, embodies the plans
which I had submitted for approval to the University:

Iowa City, Iowa, March 7th, 1893.
Mr. Frank Russell, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada:

Dear Sir: In accordance with the wish of the Executive Committee of
the Board of Regents of the State University of Iowa, I have prepared the
following instructions for your guidance in the exploration which you have
undertaken in the interest of this University.

1. Weunderstand that the officers of the Hudson’s Bay Company have
endorsed as practicable the following plan, which is outlined in a letterjust
received from you. Leaving Winnipeg as soon as this letter and the sup-
plies sent from here have been received, and the preparations for your trip
have been completed, you are to proceed to Macleod, Alberta, and collect
zoGlogical and ethnological specimens until about May ist. After this you
will proceed to Ft. Chippewyan, where you will remain and collect until
about June roth, at which time you expect to be able to proceed northward
by steamer to Fort Simpson; where you are to consult Mr. Camsell, the
officer in charge ofthat post, as to your winter quarters.

The plan, as outlined above, is approved of, and you are instructed to
carry it out as nearly as possible, although you are authorized to deviate
from the same in details if such deviation be, in your judgment, desirable.

2. We understand that your plan for further operations is as follows:
You intend, if possible, to secure the services of a reliable Indian, with
whom you will go by canoe to Fort Confidence, near the Northeast shore
of Great Bear Lake, where you expect to establish a permanent camp for
the winter, game and wood being reported plenty in that vicinity. When
navigation opens, in the spring of 1894, you intend to proceed by canoe to
the mouth of the Coppermine River, where you will collect until approach-
ing winter warns you to return to Fort Resolution and home.

This plan is approved, provided:

a. That it can be carried out without great personal danger to your-
self. This University does not desire you to imperil your life in its
service, and you are particularly instructed not to incur any dangers
which would be considered as of unusual gravity by the Hudson’s
Bay officers with whom you consult.

4. That you can secure the services of a man known to the Hud-
son’s Bay officers as one who can be relied upon as honest, intelli-
gent and faithful.

3. You are expected to advance in every reasonable way the scientific
objects of your expedition, which are

a. A full collection of the Mammals of the regions visited, especially
the Musk-ox; Caribou, Polar Bear and Wood Buffalo, if such can be
had.

b A full collection of the Birds, especially those breeding in the far
north, of which a full series of eggs, young, and specimens in sum-
mer plumage, is desired.

46 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

te A collection of Insects and such Invertebrates as you can find
means of procuring.

d. Notes and specimens, so far as practicable, of the Flora of the
country.

é. Notes and specimens regarding the Geology and Paleontology of
the regions visited.

f. Ethnological specimens illustrating the life, habits, manufactures,
etc., of the natives. Notes of songs, folk-lore, traditions, religious
conceptions and myths, are especially desired.

£: Meteorological observations, particularly at your winter post, for
which a set of instruments has been provided by the United States
Weather Bureau.

4. The Hudson’s Bay Company and the Canadian Pacific Railroad Com-
pany, having granted very generous concessions for the furtherance of
your expedition, this University desires that any information secured by
you that may be of service to these corporations, be reported to them at
your earliest convenience. You arealsoinstructed to be guided largely in
your plans by the experience and suggestions of the officers of the Hud-
son’s Bay Company, who are familiar with the far north.

You are also expected to report as often and as fully as possible of the
progress of your work in the field, and to take full notes embodying all
matters of interest which come under your notice.

C. C. NuTTING,
Professor of Systematic Zoology,
State University of Iowa.

I was detained at Winnipeg until March 21st, when I received
my outfit from the custom house and started westward.

Until we had passed the shore line of the ancient Lake
Agassiz the Manitoba Plains appeared under their snowy
mantle as level as a lake. No signs of a thaw had as yet
appeared. On the second day the country became more roll-
ing. That afternoon we passed two recently ditched loco-
motives and learned that three trains were snowed in ahead of
us; after a delay of thirty-six hours our journey was continued.

Between Forbes and Dunmore interesting fossils of the Cre-
taceous occur, but were at that season buried under the snow.
Within five miles of Medicine Hat two small herds of antelope
were seen near the track, though they have now been nearly
exterminated, and their feeding grounds have been fenced in
large ranches. Several herds of horses were pawing up the
snow to reach the grass. Behind them came the cattle, which
do not dig for themselves, but depend upon the horses to un-
cover the grass for them.

ALBERTA 47

At Calgary, I took the semi-weekly train for Macleod, a
hundred miles southward. This village, twenty miles from the
Porcupine Hills and fifty from the Rocky Mountains, stands
upon a low rocky bluff overlooking the Old Man Creek. It is
a typical frontier town, where a number of mounted police are
stationed for the maintenance of law and order among the
heterogeneous white population and to keep an eye on the Pie-
gans, Bloods and Blackfeet, whose reserves are not far distant.
The Piegans had tried to murder their farm instructor only a
few days before I arrived, but they are usually content with
cattle stealing. A policeman ina burst of confidence, informed
me that the Piegans and the other “niggers” were solving the
Indian problem on their own account. They were closely con-
fined on the reserves, and were rapidly reducing their numbers
by overfeeding! The site of the fort is said to have been
determined by the presence of a large spring, but it is certainly
not an attractive spot in March, surrounded by monotonous,
undulating plains, covered with gray buffalo grass. The scanty
fringe of timber along the Old Man Creek affords little shelter
for birds, and the continuous chinook wind would have made
collecting difficult. I therefore hastened to push on by stage
to the little village of Pincher Creek, fifteen miles east of the
mountains.

I learned that mountain sheep were obtainable in the range
near the “Creek” and that a band of Stoney Indians from
Morley were encamped inthe foothills. I at once visited them
and after consulting their leader, Old Peter, decided to engage
him for a week’shunt. He thoughta horse could be taken into
the mountains by traveling on the hard crust of the snow, and
we might see somesheep or goats. I accordingly hired a gray
broncho, that was decidedly nervous at the sight and smell of
an Indian. Peter rode an old white-eyed Cayuse and leda sec-
ond, concealed under a pack consisting of a well-smoked can-
vas lodge and our camp outfit. Peter was dressed in an old
be-ribboned blanket capote, with a ten-inch butcher knife at his
belt. His feet were encased in overshoes and rags. His hat
was tied on with a piece of mosquito netting which protected
his ears on cold days, and his eyes from snow-blindness on
warm ones.

We wound our way for two days through the foothills to the

48 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

southward, toward Chief Mountain on the international bound-
ary. The'wind blew almost unceasingly from the westward,
bringing snow squalls from the mountains. Our lodge was full
of holes and the cold wind made our camps very uncomfortable.
We spent several days in wading through soft, slushy snow on
the hard crust of winter. In crossing deep gulches we were
compelled to cut footholds with our knives as we ascended
the walls of snow. Our only provision consisted of the ban-
nocks Mrs. Peter had baked on the eve of our departure and
clear side bacon; experience had taught me to furnish as little
food as I could exist upon myself if I expected to have the
Indian really hunt for the game.

We saw old sheep trails along the mountain sides, but neither
sheep nor recent tracks. Peter concluded that after two Sun-
days they would come down from their winter haunts in the
back ranges to graze, but that they were as yet beyond our
reach. Not satisfied with the failure of this attempt, I engaged
the services of a ranchman, who accompanied me thirty miles
into the mountains, through the Crow Nest pass to the summit
of the chain. We spent a week in that wild and rugged region,
seeing only six sheep, two of which I wounded at long range
but did not secure, though I followed them several hours over
dangerous ground. It was the worst season possible to hunt
big horn and I ought not have attempted it.

The Stoney Indians are the best men to employ as assistants
in hunting in these mountains, as they are industrious hunters
and experienced mountain climbers.

The last week of my stay in this locality was spent at the
ranch of the Eddy Brothers. These two gentlemen hospitably
invited me to “bach” with them as long as I wished and gave
me every assistance in their power during my stay.

The sharp-tailed grouse and a few species of small deer were
common in the bush covering the foothills, but the summer
residents had not yet appeared, owing to the unusually late
spring. While in the pass I secured several prime marten skins.
Tracks of black and grizzly bears were seen, but these animals
were not common and no specimens were secured.

The past, typified by bleaching skullsand deep-worn trails of
the buffalo days, has been succeed :d by a present of barbed
wire fences which, in many cases, extend for miles without in-

ALBERTA 49

terruption; the traveler is inclined to look upon these as
infringements upon his rights, as contrary to the traditions of
the Plains, when he is intercepted by them in traversing a direct
and well-worn trail, and compelled to follow new and as yet
little-used roads platted on the lines and angles of surveyed
sections.

I reached Edmonton on the 20th of April. This frontier
town is the present terminus of the northern branch of the
Canadian Pacific Railway; it is situated on the north bank of
the North Saskatchewan, nearly two hundred miles north of
Calgary on the main line of the railroad. As at Macleod, the
traveler is landed on the opposite side of the river, three miles
from the town. The ice was just breaking up in the river and
a thrifty Scotchman was ferrying passengers across an open
channel in the middle, ten yards wide, at twenty-five cents each.

This was the last point at which I could purchase provisions
for the far north, where I expected to depend on net and gun or
on the Company’s posts, supplied principally with the meat and
fish of the country. I did not wish to hamper myself with a
large outfit, nor did I have the means with which to pay the
charges for transportation. The list of supplies, a considerable
portion of which was given in gratuities to the Indians, was as
follows:

Flour, . : ‘ . és : ‘ : . 200 pounds.
Bacon, side, : : : . . - 50 pounds.
Tea, black, : 3 $ : 3 A i 2 21 pounds.
Sugar, brown, . : : 3 : ‘ . . 30 pounds.
Baking powder, . ‘ : : ‘ 3 3 pounds.

The outfit, including provision, fixed ammunition, two 45-90
Winchester rifles, and a ten- and a twelve-bore shotgun, weighed
but 750 pounds.

The presence of rival traders at Chippewyan compels the
Company to send a spring outfit to that post by boat as soon
as navigation opens, usually about the first of May. As I
wished to reach Lake Athabasca in time to collect a series of
the first migratory birds, ] made arrangements to accompany
this early boat instead of waiting for the steamer “ Athabasca,”
which starts down the Athabasca River a month later. All of
the freight to and from the north is hauled by wagon from
Edmonton to Athabasca Landing, a distance of ninety-four
miles, whence the water route extends to the Arctic Sea.

4

50 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The party leaving Edmonton on the 26th of April, 1893,
consisted of Captain “Joe” Faville, an old English métis,
master of the “Grahame,” then lying at Chippewyan; Captain
J. W. Mills, going in to take charge of the ‘“ Wrigley,” the
writer and four engaged servants of the Company. To “go
in,” by the way, is to descend the Athabasca; to return to civili-
zation is to ‘go outside.” We passed the last farm houses on
the first day. The snow still lay in the poplar thickets. The
nights were cold, the road rough and muddy, and the dreary
monotony of the scrubby bush was yet unrelieved by the
awakening of spring.

The officer at Edmonton had supplied us with “ everything
that we required” until we should reach the landing. Upon
opening our stores we found tea, bacon, and a short allowance
of bread. This thoughtful genius had concluded that we should
begin our training for the straight meat and tea of the North by
foregoing butter, sugar, etc., while we still had such luxuries as
bacon and bread. As we discussed at mealtime the considera-
tion of our commissariat, Captain Mills voiced the sentiments
of the party in select colloquialisms, taken from the several
languages with which he was acquainted and which he could
combine most artistically, even for a steamboat captain.

On the third day we followed the course of the Towwatin-
now Creek beyond the divide between the waters flowing to
the Arctic Ocean and to Hudson’s Bay. The appearance of
the country had changed; the sandy hills were scantily clothed
with “jack pines,” and the spruce became more abundant on
the lower grounds. A few Indian lodges were seen at a dis-
tance with a herd of ponies near them.

We overtook several métis freighters, whose lank and bony
cayuses crept along at a pace that must have taken a week to
reach the landing. They slept at night under their wagons,
while their horses grazed upon the dried grass of the preceding
season—their only food. Upon reaching the crest of the hill
overlooking the picturesque valley of the Athabasca, at its
northward bend, we were greatly disappointed to behold the
river still locked in the ice of winter. We were compelled to
wait four days before it opened and we could safely follow the
retreating floes. The lakes about the country were still frozen
so that there was no shooting to be had, though the waterfowl
were passing daily.

ALBERTA 51

A quarter of a mile up the river was the free traders’! estab-
lishment, where a barge was being built to take down their
summer outfit. Below the Company’s wharf lay the “ Atha-
basca,”a stern-wheel steamer, drawn out upon the bank for the
winter. Beyond, was a depot containing goods for the Roman
Catholic missions of the North, and near by two young Scotch-
men had pitched their tent to await the first trip of the steamer
toward the Peace River valley where they expected to engage
in farming. A small squad of mounted police was stationed at
the landing to prevent liquor from being carried into the North.
On the night of May 2d we were awakened by the uproar
occasioned by a passing skiff, containing a large quantity of
whiskey, which, owing to the darkness and the dangerous con-
dition of the river, succeeded in escaping.

The long journey was begun on the following morning, when
we embarked ina York boat that had evidently passed through
some hard service. Our craft was twenty-six feet in length,
and loaded with three tons of miscellaneous merchandise,
including six hundred pounds of newspapers for the fur posts
and the missions, which had accumulated at Edmonton during
the winter. Our crew consisted of the jolly cook of the “ Gra-
hame,” two Red River métis and two Crees from Lac la Biche.
Owing to severe illness, Capt. Faville remained at the landing,
and Captain Segur, of the steamer ‘‘ Athabasca,” accompanied
us to take charge of the “ Grahame.”

The river banks were lined with ice, in places forming con-
tinuous overhanging walls, making it difficult to effect a land-
ing. At mealtime, after boiling the kettle, we would push off
and drift while eating. Aided by the swift current, on the third
day we reached the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca, one hun-
dred and sixty-five miles below Athabasca Landing.

As we were approaching the rapids, the roar of which could
be plainly heard, the cry of ‘mooswa” was raised. Two moose
were walking along the edge of the ice wall, eight feet above
the water. They were evidently searching for a place of easy
descent to enter the river and swim across. The two captains
opened fire when within a hundred yards. One of them declared
afterward that “the boat was too unsteady to shoot from;” the

1 The term “‘free trader” is not used in its old world sense of smuggler,
but is applied to anyone trading in opposition to the Company.

52 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

other denied having buck fever but acknowledged being a
little “nervous.” At all events, when the smoke cleared away,
the moose were still uninjured. Wewere swept some distance
down stream before we could make fast to the broken and
dangerous ice. Running back along shore, we cautiously
approached the spot where the moose were last seen, but they
had disappeared. We were about to turn back, thinking they
had entered the woods, when the ears of one of the animals
were seen above a hummock in the midst of the tumbled mass
of ice blocks, slush and mud. The ice had given way beneath
them and both moose were floundering in pits too deep to
admit of escape. We were without fresh meat and quite will-
ing to kill one, but it was only after every effort to rescue the
other had failed that it, too, was slaughtered. Unfortunately,
the skins were worthless as specimens atthat season. After an
hour’s hard work, the bodies were dragged out and rolled into
the river to be picked up by the boat below.

We encamped a short distance from the rapids upon a steep
hillside and passed an uncomfortable night on sloping ground,
with everything soaked by the water trickling from the banks
of melting snow above us. The boys feasted until a late hour
upon choice morsels of moose meat. ‘“Lixie,” one of the Crees,
declared it to be “bacon breakfast;” these were the only Eng-
lish words that I ever heard him use. They probably seemed
to him to express the highest praise.

We ate our breakfast in the morning before embarking—no
floating there—and pulled across to the eastern bank to inspect
the channel, which it was feared would be obstructed with ice.
The portage is made across an island, four or five hundred
yards in length, lying in the middle of the stream. The steam-
boat landing is a mile above on the right bank, whence the
goods are taken in boats through a crooked channel blasted
through the huge nodular sandstone boulders to the head of
the island. A dilapidated wooden tramway extends across the
island, at the foot of which the rapids are still so strong that
the sturgeon-head boats of the “Athabasca Transport” have to
be dragged through with a line. The free traders carry their
goods along the east bank and lower their boats with a line
through the rapids, a descent of sixty feet.

Pushing off again, we were soon in the grasp of the swiftly

ALBERTA 53

increasing current. As we entered the channel leading to the
island, the roar of the rapids drowned the voice of the bows-
man, who indicated the channel to the steersman by signals,
but losing his head at a critical moment, he raised the wrong
hand, resulting in the boat being swept against a rock with a
swing and lurch that nearly capsized us. The crash of timbers
and the yells of the frightened Indians mingled with the roar
of the rapids, over which it would have been certain death to
have gone. Happily for us, the boat was swept clear and
reached the landing place safely. We were a day and a half
in portaging our boat and cargo. I occupied a part of this
time in collecting fossils. The river here cuts through a Cre-
taceous sandstone, containing such a large number of nodular
concretions that they pave the bed of the stream as the softer
matrix is worn away. These boulders are from six inches to
fifteen feet in diameter, and most of them are as smooth and
spherical as if they had been turned in a lathe. In pouring
over such a bed at a steep pitch, the whirling, foam-crested
waters are tossed and dashed in such wild confusion that no
boat could live there for a moment.

Near the head of the island stands a small storehouse, near
which a large quantity of flour was piled in sacks. It had lain
there since the preceding summer, with no other protection than
the double sacks in which all flour for the North is placed.
The first rain had formed a hard crust on the exposed parts and
this afterwards protected the interior.

Upon this island,on the 6th of May, we encountered the first
mosquitoes of the season, and were to know no peace by day
or by night, in house, or tent, or boat, owing to their persistent,
malevolent, fiendish persecution, until the snows of autumn
should banish them for another eight months; for there are
but two seasons in the Land of Desolation—a snow season and
a mosquito season.

Capt. Segur had placed an Indian, familiar with the rapids,
at the steering oar, to guide us through the rough water
below the island. As a result of a prolonged debauch upon
smuggled whiskey, he was too weak to manage the heavy
sweep, and we were carried through, side on, not only shipping
water, but in imminent danger of the old boat going to pieces
in the breakers. The river has a total descent of three hun-

54 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

dred and sixty feet in the next eighty-five miles and is inter-
rupted by ten rapids. The valley narrows to a cafion, three to
five hundred feet in depth, having a series of terraces through-
out most of its course.

Seventeen miles below the Grand Rapids, we came upon a
gas well, marked by a line of bubbles that extended halfway
across the stream. On the following day we reached the Cas-
cade Rapids, where a series of rock ledges creates an overfall
in midstream with swift and shallow rapids on either side.
Ordinarily a portion of the load is portaged along the left
bank, with the flat rock of the river bed fora portage road, but
at the time of our arrival, this was covered with broken and
overhanging ice, piled to a height of twenty feet. Packing
goods across portages is no uncommon experience for the Com-
pany’s servants in the North, yet our crew flatly refused to
“carry” over such a path, as it would be necessary to make
for at least a quarter of a mile, along the steep slope of tar
sands and mud slides. Thinking better of it next morning,
however, they set to work carrying with tomp lines, improvised
from canvas folded so that it could be placed next the fore-
head and ropes at the ends to attach tothe bales. Partly from
a desire to be “doing,” and partly from a curiosity as to how
it felt to ‘‘pack,” I shouldered a hundred-pound sack of BB
shot and started withthe others. The load did not seem heavy
at first, and save a little unsteadiness in the knees in climbing
the steep inclines, I experienced no difficulty. Iwas regretting
that I had not taken two pieces, as do the voyageurs at each
trip, when we came to rougher ground and that lead began to
increase rapidly in weight. Just as I was about to throw it
down, I reached a convenient ledge on which to rest and after
a short “spell” finished the portage. My curiosity was satis-
fied, but I carried over a second piece, a bale of dry goods, and
found it much easier to carry than the springless, dead weight
of the shot. With a half load we attempted to run the short
rapid. The boat struck on the last ledge and all hands had to
tumble out and carry several hundred pounds ashore through
the chilling cold water, in which large pieces of drift ice were
running. We were under the overhanging wall of shore ice,
several tons falling with a crash within two minutes after we
got clear of it. Wesoon encountered other rapids below, in

ALBERTA 55

the passage of which we were dashed with spray and our boat,
weakened with age, threatened with destruction. It was an
exciting experience—to be drawn into the boiling flood; the
bowsman, crouching low to avoid being hurled from the tossing
boat, signalled to the steersman who guided us with powerful
strokes of the great sweep and directed the crew with the com-
mand “pimiscow”’—pull, or ‘‘see’’—back-water. When run-
ning the Boiler Rapids, one of our Crees, instead of attend-
ing to his oar and assisting in bringing the boat around the
sunken boulder in the middle of the channel, turned to stare at
the rapids, his oar caught against the rocks and the inner end
struck him amidships, hurling him against the man next in
front. Had the thole pin not given way he would have been
pitched into the midst of the rapids. Such accidents are not
uncommon; if short of actual tragedy, the victim must bear
the ridicule of the whole boat’s crew for the remainder of the
voyage.

On the eighth day we reached McMurray, an insignificant
post at the mouth of the Clearwater River. Goods arriving
in boats from the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca are there
transferred to the steamer “Grahame,” that being the south-
ern limit of her run. The Clearwater, also containing many
rapids, was the route followed to and from the North previous
to the building of the railway across the plains. Down this
stream Peter Pond made his way from the Long Portage, one
hundred and fifteen years ago. Mackenzie, Franklin and other
distinguished explorers have traversed and described the val-
ley of the Clearwater and the direct route thence to the Arctic
Sea. Below the “Forks” the bluffs recede from the river and
decrease in elevation. The Athabasca attains a width of nearly
half a mile and contains many islands of silt and driftwood,
covered with a dense growth of spruce. We drifted at night
on the lower river and made such rapid progress that we
reached Lake Athabasca on the tenth day. We were still
twelve miles from Chippewyan, but could not sail directly to it
owing to the ice not having brokenup. We had been told that
Captain Segur was a “good judge of water,” and expected he
would guide us through the shallow channels among the bars
and islands along shore. Leaving the main stream we entered
a channel which the Captain declared to be the Embarras

56 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

River.!. This grew narrower as we advanced until, after an
hour’s rowing against a strong wind, it ended abruptly in a
clump of willows. The worthy Captain was conceded to be ‘ta
good judge of water but a mighty poor judge of land.” We
reached the main stream again just as darkness was setting in.
There was no dry ground on which to camp, or even to build a
fire. From our position nothing could be seen but an appar-
ently endless stretch of driftlogs with their spreading roots
anchored on the battures, except toward the southwest, where
miles of willows fringed the water courses. It had rained all
the afternoon, and the absence of a fire to dry our clothing was
severely felt. A small fire, large enough to boila kettle of tea,
was made among the roots of the stranded stump to which we
had made fast for the night. Dropping down the river in the
morning we soon reached a channel with a strong current,
entering from the west, which proved to be the Embarras.
Ascending this for three or four miles we turned into a branch
flowing toward Chippewyan. We were compelled to wait two
days at its mouth until guides were sent to conduct us through
the ice-obstructed channels among the islands before the post.

As we were passing the broad mouth of the Peace, several
members of the party discovered "a big moose walking on the
batture and coming this way.” Rifles were hastily taken from
their cases and everyone dropped behind the gunwale of the
boat. Two métis in our party were about to wade toward it
when the supposed moose resolved itself into the uplifted roots
of a huge cottonwood driftlog!

Our journey of five hundred and thirty miles had occupied
twenty days, including the delays at Athabasca Landing, the
Grand Rapids and the Cascade. Just before our arrival the
snow had been cleared off by a heavy rain, though many drifts
still remained on the northern slopes.

1The channel known as the Embarras River obtained its name from the
driftwood with which it is said to have been obstructed. ‘The ‘Embarras’
in no place exceeds one hundred yards in breadth, and the slack current
makes it preferable as a route [in ascending the stream] to the main river,
where the current is very strong. Its banks in places are steep, and like
the Slave River, thickly clothed with willow and poplar, some of the latter
very large. The waters areabominably dirty.” Pullen, British Arctic Blue
Book, 1852, Vol. 50, p. 62.

CHAPTERIV
ATHABASCA DISTRICT

HIPPEWYANT is situated at the extremity of a peninsula,

of irregular outlines, which is connected with the north
shore by a low, narrow neck. The red gneissic rock is fre-:
quently exposed, and at intervals, as between the promontory
occupied by the Company’s buildings and that on which the
mission stands, has been ground into sand of a characteristic
color which forms a pretty beach. The hollows between the
broken hills support a muskeg growth of moss and tamarack,
while the scanty soil of the slopes affords a foothold for small
spruce and birch trees.

Chippewyan is the leading post of Athabasca District and
is one of the most extensive establishments in the North, being
second only to Simpson, the chief stationin Mackenzie District.
The buildings are of hewed logs and whip-sawed lumber. The
“Grahame,” a fair-sized stern-wheel steamer (and during the
winter of 1895-6 a second vessel, to replace the first) was built
there, also with hand-sawed lumber.

Upon the rocks just east of the quadrangle of whitewashed
Company’s buildings stands a small tower, which was built
nearly a century ago in order to watch the movements of the
Indians, who it was feared, were planning to massacre the
whites. One of their medicine men had prophesied that peace
and plenty were in store for them if the whites were extermin-
ated, and that other traders would soon come in, bringing more
and better goods. Until the amalgamation of the fur com-

1Lake Athabasca and Chippewyan, are both known as Athabasca. The
settlement is called “Rabaska” by the métis. “Les sauvages l’appelaient
ayabaska a cause des grandes herbes qui en couvraient les bords, et les
‘voyageurs’ en ont fait’ ‘Rabaska’”!—Masson, L. R., Les Bourgeois, Vol. I, p.

36.
57

58 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

panies in 1821, the Hudson’s Bay Company occupied Coal
Island calling their station Fort Wedderburne.! Then, as now,
the rivalry between the traders induced them to visit the Indian
camps to procure furs and meat. During the winter preceding
my visit each establishment kept men and dog teams ready to
start at a moment’s notice, whenever the hunters sent in a
report that they had some “fur.” If an Indian secured a few
marten skins, worth ten or fifteen dollars, a boy would be sent
in with an empty sled to report the fact to one of the traders,
who would at once send his interpreter for them. The other
would soon hear of it and dispatch a courier in hot pursuit.
When the messenger arrived at the camp, the Indians had to be
given a little tobacco, flour, tea and sugar before furs were
mentioned. Then the whole story would be repeated—how the
Company had always looked after its red children and fed
them when the fishery failed, how they had brought them goods
when others could not, and goods of a quality far superior to
those of the opposition, which was not going to be in the
country another year anyway; if they deserted the Company
now, they would be left then to shift for themselves. Or, if it
happened to be the free trader’s interpreter who was speaking,
he would tell the Indians of the many years during which they
and their fathers had been defrauded by the Company, which
never paid well for furs until his employers came, that now they
brought the best of goods to give their red brothers, at ridicu-
lously low prices, all of which would finally result in a bargain,
wherein the furs were bought at the Edmonton price. If a
hunter is fortunate enough to secure one of the dozen silver
foxes which are trapped each winter, he is feasted and fawned
upon until he thinks he is conferring the greatest favor in part-

“1The post was first established by Roderic Mackenzie, on the south
shore of the lake, just east of the debouchure of the Athabasca, pitched upon
a conspicuous projection which advanced about a league into the lake, the
base of which appeared in the shape of a person sitting with arms extended
the palms forming, as it were, a point. On this we settled and built a Fort
which we called Chipewean. It isaltogethera beautiful, healthy situation,
in the centre of many excellent and never failing fisheries, provided they
are duly attended to at the proper season. Considération importante dans
ces tristes régions ou le poisson était 4 peu prés laseule ressource des Bour-
geois et de leurs employés pendant les longs mois d’hiver.”” Masson, L. R.,
Les Bourgeois, Vol. I, p. 37.

ATHABASCA DISTRICT 59

ing with it for two hundred“ skins’! (one hundred dollars) and
a gratuity of a hundred pounds of flour and a long list of other
articles of trade. The Indians have learned that they can get
more flour at Edmonton for their furs than at Chippewyan, and
every year or two a party of them, led by some freeman (dis-
charged Company’s servant), visits the outside world. Their
time is worth nothing, and they cannot understand why they
should pay more for heavy merchandise at Chippewyan than at
the railway terminus.

Lake Athabasca is the northern limit of the territory of the
Crees; beyond, the various sub-tribes of the Athabascan stock
occupy the country as far as the narrow strip along the coast,
which is inhabited by the Eskimos.

The Chippewyans trading at the fort are more numerous than
the Crees and, if possible, more filthy and destitute. The pro-
ductive fisheries about the lake and the abundance of hares
insure them against starvation, while clothing may be easily
obtained by a few weeks’ work in the fur season.

A great deal of their time is spent in gambling, at which they
will occupy themselves for days together and wager their last
ounce of ammunition upon which they are dependent for food
for the morrow.

Delta. The Athabasca and Peace Rivers are both fed by the
melting of mountain snow and both carry animmense quantity of
mud and driftwood into their deltas, which have been extended
several miles from the hills that mark the original boundaries
of the lake. The twostreams now have a common delta lying
in a semicircle, five miles southwest of the fort. This accu-
mulation of silt has cut off a portion of the lake over twenty-
five miles in length, called Lake Claire. The swamps and mud
flats of the delta are intersected by a network of channels
through which the water flows in either direction, according to

1The skin is the standard of values in the North. Formerly it meant a
beaver skin, but it has come to have a fixed value equivalent to about fifty
cents in Canadian money. It appears on the Company’s books as “Made
Beaver,” abbreviated to MB. All trade north of Athabasca Landing is car-
ried on by barter, there being no medium of exchange of any sort. The
best “money” that a traveler can carry into that region, if he wishes to
deal directly with the Indians, is tea and tobacco; the former, black and of
good quality, the latter in the form of slender twisted plugs know as
“negro-head.”

60 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the stage of water in the rivers, or the tides of the lake as influ-
enced by the wind. These channels swarm with muskrats, and
in the migratory season myriads of waterfowl halt upon the
battures to feed, while a comparatively small number remain
during the summer to breed in the adjoining marshes. More
geese and ducks are killed there than at all other posts in the
North. The big and little waveys are the most abundant and
the most highly prized, though swans and Canada geese,
ducks and cranes abound.

It would be several weeks before I could continue upon the
journey northward, and as I could not live at the post and col-
lect in the delta, I secured a skiff the day after our arrival
and, provided with a few pounds of flour and bacon, set off
alone toward the southernmost of the rocky islands in the
delta of the Quatres Fourches or Peace River, which has
deposited its silt between them until they are connected by
low grass-covered swamps containing many shallow lakes. The
channels are all willow-fringed, no other tree or shrub growing
upon the low grounds. The only tent I could get was five feet
in height, without walls—a very poor shelter in which to live
and work for five weeks. For three days after reaching the
island it snowed almost continuously, making collecting rather
disagreeable work, especially as I had no means of warming
the tent and had neither seal nor rubber boots.

The catkins of the earliest willows burst their envelopes on
the 24th of May, the first warblers arrived on the same day.
Thenceforward leaf and blossom rapidly developed though
snow fell as late as June 14th. Frequent rains and northerly
gales rendered camp life anything but pleasant.

Each morning was spent in making a four or five mile trip
with the skiff among the islands, in search of water birds. As
I depended on the game secured for food, the success of the
morning’s hunt had a material effect upon the bill of fare for
the day. The afternoons were spent in skinning birds, a task
which, from the loneliness, became inexpressibly monotonous.
After supper, consisting of hot tea and fried duck, if it was not
raining, or of cold meat and cold water if it were, I would spend
an hour or two in collecting land birds, to be cared for next
day. A family of whiskey jacks was disposed to dispute my
right to encamp near them; they would sit and scold for hours

ATHABASCA DISTIRICT éi

until driven away. Two young ones, in an interesting phase of
immature plumage, were specimens too desirable to be disre-
garded. For two weeks after they had been killed the mother
hovered about with a pathetic call similar to the mewing note
of the catbird.

It required constant care to prevent the mice from destroy-
ing the birdskins, notwithstanding the fact that they were
thoroughly covered with arsenic. This was the only time that
I ever felt any injurious effects from constantly handling the
poison. After five weeks of introspection, arsenic and rain, I
was glad to enter upon the next stage of the journey, though I
had been very successful in securing a representative series of
Quatres Fourches birds.

Early on the morning of June 2oth the ‘‘Grahame” started
on her first downward trip. We soon entered the Rocky
River, which becomes the Slave after its junction with the
Peace, thirty miles below. The northern limit of navigation
for this steamer is Smith Landing, at the head of the Smith
Rapids, a hundred miles from Chippewyan. A submerged
snag was struck as the boat approached the landing place,
causing a hasty scramble on the part of the Indians, who
tumbled several tons of freight ashore, and some of it into the
river, in their haste to bring the leak above the water line.
Aided by Captain Mills, I succeeded in having my outfit safely
landed. From Smith Landing to Fort Smith,a distance of six-
teen miles, the river is interrupted by a series of rapids with a
total descent of two hundred and forty feet. These were for-
merly passed by six or seven portages; the goods and furs were
carried and the boats dragged across on rollers cut from drift
logs. The free traders still follow this old boat route. But the
Company has fransported all its freight for the last few years
in ox-carts over a swampy trail around the rapids.

On the 21st I accepted Dr. Mackay’s invitation to descend
the rapids in his canoe. We crossed at once from the Big Eddy
at the Landing and dropped down along the right bank for
nearly a mile before reaching the first rapid. We then followed
narrow channels at some distance from the main river. After
running through a few small rapids we reached the Chest Por-
tage. While the men were carrying the canoe across, I visited
the falls below the landing place. The channel was about forty

62 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

yards in width, with perpendicular granite walls. A huge
quadrangular boulder had fallen from the left bank, obstruct-
ing the stream so that a high cascade was formed; below, the
steep descent of a hundred yards terminated in an overfall into
a circular basin two hundred yards in diameter, into which fell
several other cascades. The outlet to this boiling cauldron
was by another fall of considerable height.

Tormented by clouds of mosquitoes, we continued our jour-
ney past small rapids and numerous islands until we reached a
large eddy wherein hundreds of driftlogs were circling, the
channel below being entirely concealed by a log jam that was
probably centuries old.

Two short portages were formerly made here along the east
bank, but the New Portage, on the other bank, is much longer.
This rapid is larger and still more picturesque than the Cas-
cade above. Great heaps of driftwood lay upon the rocks and
the heads of the islands; the logs, denuded of their bark and
frayed and worn by long buffeting by the stream, mingled
their whitened forms in inextricable confusion. The muddy
waters poured through the granite gorges to fall with ceaseless
roar in cascades of considerable height. The heavy forest,
through which the sunlight scarcely penetrated, stretched in an
unbroken wall on either bank. The wild grandeur of the scene
was unmarred by evidences of man’s presence, save the grass-
grown portage path and a few crumbling posts beside the Raft
Portage, which marked the grave of aGood Hope Indian. As
we sped swiftly down the narrow channel below, we saw fre-
quent signs of the presence of beavers; Mackenzie reports their
occurrence there in great numbers at the time of his journey in
1789. The métis kept a constant lookout for bears, which were
said to be common in the vicinity of the rapids.

Emerging at length from the labyrinth of islands we crossed
the main stream, here over a mile in width. Some of the islands
were covered by several feet of silt, deposited by melting ice;
this was honeycombed by bank swallows. Other islands of
naked rock afforded a secure nesting place for gulls. A short
distance above us the mist hung over the rapids, where the
main stream poured over the ledges that had interrupted our
course at the New Portage.

Before us was the “Mountain,” a narrow ridge extending

ATHABASCA DISTRICT 63

from the left bank for nearly a mile and terminating in a series
of ledges over which the narrowed stream poured in a tumultu-
ous, roaring torrent. A wooded island in midstream is occu-
pied asa breeding place by hundreds of white pelicans. When
we landed upon it there were scores of them about the nests,
covering the ground. They had destroyed all undergrowth,
but the heavy spruce overhead prevented their rising in flight
until they waddled to the bank. Eggs in various stages of
incubation were scattered about, and many naked nestlings
huddled together in squeaking heaps at our approach.

The Mountain Portage is a short! one across the high, steep,
sandy ridge. It is so narrow that a cut across the top several
feet in depth has been made; boats are dragged across with the
aid of block and tackle. The portage was at one time made
along the right bank, but was abandoned as being too danger-
ous. After passing some very rough water at the foot of the
rapids we crossed to the east bank of the river, flowing in a
straight reach to the Portage of the Drowned (Portage des
Noyés?), over which boats are run with a half load.

The fishery at the foot of these rapids, the last obstruction of
any consequence in the Mackenzie River system, has induced
several Indian families to build cabins along the right bank.
We carried our canoe along the portage path before their doors,
and reémbarked to cross the broad stream to Fort Smith. This
fort stands on the level, sandy plateau, high above the river.
At the time of my visit, the Company’s buildings consisted of
three low, barn-roofed log structures, without the neat white-
washed fence to be seen at other northern posts. The indis-
pensable flagstaff stood at the edge of the bluff. A log ware-
house beside the steamboat landing, the mission, and a few
scattered huts made up the “Fort,” named in honor of the
present governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, though it has
been termed’ “the most disreputable establishment” and ‘the

1*¢Seven hundred paces.” Richardson, Arctic Searching Expedition, p.
gt. It was known to the early voyageurs as the Pelican Portage, the name

“Mountain” being at that time applied toa smaller portage above. Mack-
enzie mentions “the hill,” which was crossed by a portage of 820 paces.
Voyages, p. 5.

2In the year 1786, five men were drowned, and two canoes and some
packages lost,in the rapids on the other side of the river, which occasioned
this place to be called the Portage des Noyés.” Mackenzie,” Voyages, p. 5.

3 Pike, Warburton, Barren Ground, p. 17.

64 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

worst place for mosquitoes inthe North.” The mosquitoes and
bulldog flies! swarmed about the oxen used on the portage,
driving them frantic when on the road, and causing them to
spend most of the night in the smoke of fires kindled to pro-
tect them. At each housea pan of wet chips was kept burning
before the door, producing an odor not exactly that of incense.
Under favorable atmospheric conditions they would gather in
such numbers as to cover the greater part of one’s clothing,
each individual searching with feverish activity for a vulnerable
spot. Les maringouins settle upon you like angry bees and no
amount of switching or brushing will drive them off.

When I attempted to collect birds the mosquitoes sometimes
actually covered the gun barrels and concealed the sights.
The mosquito helmet I was compelled to wear seriously ob-
structed my vision, and they always found their way through its
meshes. They have not the timid and hesitating manner that
characterizes the southern mosquito, but realizing that their
summer is short and naturalists are few, they waste no time but
light squarely upon their bills and go to work. I have smeared
coal oil, bacon grease, and other precious ointments upon my

1 “June 23d, [1848]. The Zabanus named by the voyageurs ‘Bull-dog,’ has
been common for two days. The current notion is, that this fly cuts a piece
of flesh from his victim, and at first sight there seems to be truth in the
opinion. The fly alights on the hands or face so gently that if not seen he
is scarcely felt until he makes his wound, which produces a stinging as if
the skin had been touched by a live coal. The hand is quickly raised
toward the spot and the insect flies off. A drop of blood, oozing from the
puncture, gives it the appearance of a gaping wound, and the fly is sup-
posed to have carried off a morsel of flesh. In fact, the Zadanus, inserts a
five-bladed lancet, makes a perforation like a leech-bite, and, introducing
his flexible proboscis, proceeds to suck the blood. * * These Yabani are
troublesome only toward noon and in a bright sun, when the heat beats
down the mosquitoes.” Richardson, Arctic Searching Expedition, p. 67.

This fly is larger than the familiar blue-bottle. I frequently noticed that
they seemed to pursue a premeditated plan to make their way to my
hands or face, unobserved, by alighting on my cuffs or collar and crawling
thence to the exposed flesh. I first met them at Selkirk, on the Red River
where they are a great pest. At Chemawawin, on the Saskatchewan, our
tent, one sultry afternoon, was filled with them as by aswarm of bees. We
surrendered our domicile to them and went outside among the mosquitoes
which, at least, sounded a warning before making an attack. The bull-dog
is found, I believe, throughout the entire Northwest. Schwatka (Along
Alaska’s Great River, p. 125) mentions the occurrence of a “horse” fly on the
Yukon, which is probably a species of Zabanus.

ATHABASCA DISTRICT 65

face and hands, with only a temporary effect. My face and
wrists were often swollen from their poisonous attacks.! Sleep
is impossible without a net to completely cover one. Indians,
who have no nets, lie half suffocated with their heads covered
by their woolen blankets. I was once forced to follow this
plan in the mountains of British Columbia, and nothing but
extreme exhaustion could have induced sleep.

The clerk in charge at Fort Smith was living upon dried
suckers. These fish are obtained in large numbers below the
rapids, and form a considerable part of the food supply of the
Indians of the neighborhood. While they are drying, a little
sand finds its way into the gashes made in the fish, where it
remains to grate upon the teeth of the unfortunate compelled
to eat it.

Captain Mills and I set out on June 26th to visit the Salt
Plains, from which the salt forthe North is obtained. The salt
springs are situated forty miles northwest of Fort Smith, and
are reached by descending the Slave to the mouth of the Salt
River, a distance of fifteen miles, and ascending the latter
stream. On the way we landed at Bell’s Rock, six miles below
the post, and made an unsuccessful search for fossils. This
low ledge of brecciated limestone and that underlying the
Pointe de Gravois on the right bank, two miles below, are the
only exposures of limestone that I saw on the Slave River.

The swift current at Gravel Point forms a strong eddy where
fish are always abundant. This unfailing food supply accounts
for the presence of three or four Indian cabins on the bank
above. Permanent habitations at any distance from the Com-
pany’s posts are of rare occurrence. The presence of a fishery
at the mouth of Salt River was indicated by the large number
of drying stages. The ruins of a log cabin were visible from

1Compare King, Warrative, p.41. ‘In addition to the scorching heat of
the sun, we had been tormented by the mosquitoes, and so disfigured by
them that it was difficult to distinguish one man from another.” Com-
mander Pullen wrote of the experiences of his boat party with mosquitoes,
in descending the Mackenzie, “Day or night made no difference to them;
they were our eternal tormenters, and in no hot country that I have ever
been have I found them sotroublesome. Inthe daytime they were not our
only pests, for the bulldogs (immense large flies) were almost as thick and
troublesome with their sharp and poignant bite; so between them both we
got but little rest.” Yournal (Br. Blue Book), 1852, Vol. 50, p. 34-

5

66 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the main stream. This was built by Beaulieu, who was guide
and hunter of Franklin’s second expedition.

Salt River is from thirty to sixty yards in width, and for ten
miles above its mouth is without perceptible current. Beyond
that point the water is distinctly brackish. The stream winds
in horseshoe curves through a broad valley, timbered with
spruce and aspen. I collected a pair of half-grown horned
owls, a raven and several ducks, while ascending the river. The
Salt Plains are five miles in width and lie at the base of hills
rising to aconsiderable height. The springs were first described
by Richardson, who visited them in 1820. They are near the
base of a hill! and are enclosed by basins, from which the
water evaporates and leaves large quantities of pure crystal
salt. The clerk at Fort Smith annually sends a boat to the
springs for a load of salt, which is stored in bags at the mouth
of the river and taken on board the steamer for distribution
throughout Mackenzie River District.

When in sight of this ‘‘mountain” we were compelled to turn
back, as the captain expected the “Wrigley” to arrive at Fort
Smith that evening. We reached the post on the evening of
the 28th, but the “Wrigley” did not arrive until the morning of
July 2d. Several officials of the Company, missionaries, retir-
ing servants en route to Winnipeg, and fourteen Hare Indians
from Good Hope, who were to work on the Athabasca River
transport, were on board.

We started down the river at three o’clock a.M., July 5th. The
“Wrigley” had two pilots, called “ guides” since the York boat
days, when the leader of the brigade really served in that ca-
pacity. One of these, “Old” John Hope, was a pure blood Cree;
the other, José Souiar, known as “Susy,” was a French métis.
Owing to the high latitude, the ‘“ Wrigley” has continuous light
on her thirteen hundred mile run until late in the season, so
that one of these men was always at the wheel when the boat
was under way.

The Slave River is about half a mile in width below the rap-
ids,except where it expands to include the somewhat numerous
wooded islands which resemble those in the lower Athabasca.

During the day we rounded Le Grand Détour, traveling fif-
teen miles to gain a few hundred yards, and at Point Ennuyeux

1 See illustration in Back, Marrative, p. 80.

ATHABASCA DISTRICT 647

we were an hour in going around a bend that is crossed in
winter in five minutes. Near the mouth of the river we stopped
to wood up, at midnight, soon after which the steamer ran at
full speed upona gravel bar. The boat heeled over until I
was nearly thrown out of my bunk. “Susy,” who was at the
wheel at the time, remarked in a satisfied tone, “I thought me
there was a bar here somewhere.”

We were four hours in getting off. We then entered one of
the western channels of the broad delta and passed three or four
miles of mud-flats off the mouth before reaching the deep water
of the lake. Turning southward around Mission Island, we
reached Resolution early on the morning of the 6th. The
anchor was dropped two hundred yards from the beach and a
few pieces were sent ashore.

An unusually large number of musk-ox skins had been
brought in, and rivalry between the Company and the free
traders had trebled the price formerly paidfor them. This had
emptied the store and caused goods to be supplied at the first,
instead of the third, trip of the steamer.

I counted sixty lodges on the beach before the fort. The
most of them were occupied by Yellow Knife Indians from the
north shore of the lake.

At nine o’clock we were under way again, headed for Rae on
the Northern Arm. The main body of the lake is sixty miles
in width and the Northern Arm is eighty inlength. This broad
traverse requires a much more seaworthy vessel than are the
upper river steamers. The “Wrigley” was built at Fort Smith
in 1886, all the lumber used being sawed by hand. Her dimen-
sions were eighty feet keel, fourteen feet beam, six feet draft,
with a four and a half feet screw. Her average speed on the
lake is over eight miles an hour. The running time from Fort
Smith to the northernmost post (a distance of over twelve
hundred miles) is five days. The return trip against the cur-
rent of the Mackenzie requires eight anda half days. She is
soon to be replaced by a new boat, to be built during the win-
ter of 1896-7.

CHAPTER V
FORT RAE

HILE crossing the lake, I had an opportunity to discuss

my plans with Mr. J. S. Camsell, who was accompanying
the “Wrigley” on her first trip. He considered the plan of
wintering on the Great Bear Lake impracticable, owing to the
difficulty of securing the assistance of the Indians, and strongly
advised me to make Rae my headquarters, as a larger number
of musk-ox robes were traded there than at any other post
except Resolution. He thought that an interpreter could not
be easily found about the Great Bear Lake who would be will-
ing to enter the Barren Ground with me. Both he and Captain
Bell recommended a young Indian, the adopted son of the
French métis assistant clerk at Rae, who they thought would
be willing to act as interpreter and man-of-all-work, if I decided
to winter on the Great Slave Lake.

Seven miles from Rae, we entered a narrow buoyed channel
only eight or ten feet in depth. La Grosse Ile, a granite island
a hundred feet or more in height, extended for some distance
on our left, on the right a large number of barren rocks and
wooded islets fringed the shore of the mainland. As usual on
the arrival of the steamer, the British flag, with the talismanic
white letters HB C, was flying at the post. We anchored some
distance from the beach, and the officer in charge of the post
came on board. He was accompanied by the boy, Andrew
Leviolette, whom I wished to engage. Andrew made no objec-
tion to the terms offered by Mr. Camsell, and readily agreed to
work for a skin a day and his board.

At 1a.M.,July 7th, the‘‘Wrigley” weighed anchor and started
on the longest voyage of her season’s run. Rae is not on the

68

Via i;

~ PORT RAE.—Dog Rib tiki in the foreground Ww eithie summer shelter (ene nearit. Onleftisthe
characteristic form of wood pile seen in the Slave Lake country. Hudson’s Bay Company’s
buildings in the back ground, beyond which is the northern arm of the lake.

ONE OF THE MANY RAPIDS IN THE YELLOW KNIFE RIVER.

FORT RAE 69

main route and is usually visited on but one inward trip, the
second, but for the same reason as at Resolution the store was
empty, and goods must be had to secure the furs which the
Indians were preparing to carry in large canoes to the free
traders across the lake.

Rae is situated at the extremity of a peninsula extending
from the east shore nearly half way across the arm, there about
five miles wide. Cliffs of a compact yellowish limestone rise
to a considerable height!and furnish the only exposures of
Paleozoic rocks to be found on the east shore. The arm
marks in a general way the western limit of the Archzean, but
two isolated granite hills stand on the west shore, south of the
fort. Five miles eastward, La Grosse Roche, the only eleva-
tion east of the arm, rises in a rugged granite ridge, on the
eastern face of which the eagles find a nesting place. The nar-
row bays from the lake penetrate almost to the base of the
precipice, and separate the low, rounded, granite hummocks
into a multitude of islands.

The “ Mountain” was formerly an island; the Dog Rib name
—Nishy-ku® signifies Island-hill post. The channel was filled
twenty years ago, and is now dry and overgrown with willows.
The timber has been stripped from the hill for fuel until it is
now little more than a barren rock. Wind-sweptat all seasons,
five miles from fuel, which must be hauled with dogs, Rae is not
an attractive spot, its only redeeming feature being the unfail-
ing fishery before its doors. The country about Rae is wooded;
the timber on the east shore is of little value for building pur-
poses. Fair-sized spruce and banksian pine is obtainable from
the west shore which soon rises to a plateau with innumerable
ponds and muskegs, and some groves of—for that region—
excellent timber.

Two hundred yards from the big house, on the shore of a
little cove called Sandy Bay, a few crumbling ruins of clay and
stone chimneys mark the site of an “old fort,” abandoned so
long ago that nothing is known by the present inhabitants con-
cerning it. Another fort once stood near the Big Point,
twenty-five miles south, and still another? had been established

1 Two hundred and twenty feet according to Captain Dawson. Observa-
tions of the International Circumpolar Expedition, Rae, p. xi. :

2Original Fort Providence. Masson, I..R., Les Bourgeois, Vol. I, p. 40.

70 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

in 1789, on Marten Lake, nearly a hundred miles northwest of
Rae. The present post was established forty years ago.

Rae was for many years the best provision post in the Mack-
enzie District, and furnished thousands of pounds of meat for
the river transport; but the caribou have been driven back
toward the Barren Ground, and the “hungry and desolate”
post now receives scarcely enough meat and grease to supply
its own people. As the caribou failed, the Indians resorted to
trapping and musk-ox hunting, so that the place now makes a
good return of furs.

Only two white men lived at Rae when I landed there; “Old
Jock” Wilson, a chief trader in the Company’s service, admin-
istered to a small portion of the earthly wants of the natives,
while their spiritual welfare was presided over by Pére Ruore,
a Roman Catholic missionary from Southern France. Mr. Wil-
son had a peculiar habit of refusing to speak to any one for a
week at atime if anything displeased him. He was assisted by
Antoine Leviolette, a métis clerk, who with his wife boarded
at the “master’s table.”

For the first ten days I lived in the big house. Our fare con-
sisted of boiled dried caribou meat, so black, tough and cov-
ered with hairs that the sight of it soon became repugnant.
One can eat a full meal of this dried meat, dry meat, dry tur-
key, or “scrap,” as it is called, and feel just as hungry as before.
Twice a day a plate of four small “cakes” of unleavened bread
was placed on the table. For lunch on Sunday there wasa
rice pudding without milk, and no bread. At breakfast only
there was sugar for the tea.

There was little to be done near the post, and I decided to
make a summer trip toward the Barren Ground with several
objects in view; to collect ornithological specimens, to secure
caribou skins before they had assumed their winter pelage, to
search for breeding places of water birds to be visited during
the following year, and last, but not least, to get something to
eat, as the unvaried diet of tasteless, leathery dried meat was
growing intolerable.

I tried to engage the services of some of the Indians who, to
the number of three hundred, were temporarily encamped about
the post. Naohmby, “The Bear Lake Chief,” was said to be
the most intelligent and the most obliging of the Dog Rib

FORT RAE m1

leaders. I soon discovered, however, that arrangements could
not be made with ease and dispatch. Naohmby had supersti-
tious scruples about admitting a Mollah (white man) into their
hunting grounds. I afterwards learned that he thought, as did
all the Indians of the North, that if I sent down skins of the
caribou to be mounted in my country, they would live there
forever; which happy fate would induce all the vast herds that
roam over the Barren Ground to migrate southward to join
them. I did not know at the time why he found so many triv-
ial excuses for not accepting the terms offered him— his young
men already had their canoes loaded. Andrew andI could not
paddle alone because there were many dangerousrapids. They
would have to starve two weeks before reaching the caribou,
which were so far away that I would lose courage altogether.
His health was not good and perhaps he would stop some-
where and fish instead of making the long trip after caribou.

He said that they had all decided not to make their usual
fall hunt for musk-ox,as the days were so short and the season
so stormy, that it was altogether too dangerous an undertaking
now that they had to go so far out from the timber. Five or
six years ago, the musk-ox were found west of the Coppermine
River, where a few clumps of stunted spruce maintain a foot-
hold in protected situations, but each year the hunters had
had to penetrate farther into the Barren Ground, and at least
one of their number had been stricken with paralysis upon each
trip. Three years before a hunter had been lost in a storm and
never found. They had therefore decided to hunt musk-ox in
the spring only. This wasa great disappointment to meas I had
expected to engage in this hunt during November and be pre-
pared for an early start toward the Coppermine the next
spring. Naohmby also discouraged my plan. None of his
people ever saw the Arctic Sea; they were afraid of the Eski-
mos. They could not descend the Coppermine more than one
day’s travel from the point where they crossed it on the way to
the musk-ox country. None of his brigade would accompany
me down the river. Nor did he know of any locality where
nests and eggs of water birds could be obtained.

The Yellow Knife River. The Indians would not allow me to
accompany them on the caribou hunt. It was fifteen days’
travel by canoe to the nearest point where the caribou might

72 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

be found, which, in a wilderness of broken timbered hills and
lakes, was’ too far to venture with Andrew alone, as he had
come from Simpson the year before and knew no more about
the country than I. I decided to make a reconnaissance on my
own account toward the Barren Ground by way of the Yellow
Knife River, which enters the lake sixty miles southeast of Rae.

I received directions as to the route from four different per-
sons—who all disagreed. An Indian is usually considered a
safe guide, though I have known of their sense of orientation
being at fault. He may bea safe guide, but I never found him
a reliable guide post. My two years’ experience was too brief
to allow me to generalize; I can only say that such sketch
maps as they prepared for me were sadly out of proportion,
and nothing further than the existence of a topographical feat-
ure could be established.

There were two hundred canoes at the post, but none of them
were large enough for two men and the camp outfit, except
those made especially for crossing the lake, which it would be
impossible to use, owing to the portages. The shortest route
to the Barren Ground is said to contain forty portages, so that
the birch-bark canoes are made very light for carrying. They
are thirteen to fifteen feet in length, two feet beam, with straight
sides. The ends are curved upward and decked over with
bark for a short distance. Owing to the long upward curve
they are short keeled and cranky. They veer so easily that
only one or two strokes can be taken before changing to the
other side. Double-bladed paddles are never used, though an
extra paddle is always carried for use in case one is broken in
a rapid or a heavy sea.

Early on the afternoon of July 18th Andrew and I loaded
our canoes on the rocky beach before the post, and ‘“‘amid the
applause of the multitude,” I made my first attempt at paddling
single-handed. It was vain to try to reassure myself with the
thought that the spectators were half-breeds and Indians whose
opinion, however expressed, could not effect my nerves. I did
care very much, indeed, for the estimate formed by the fort
métis has great weight with the Indians, and my success as a
zodlogical collector depended to a considerable extent on just
such trivial considerations. To those people, the appearance
presented by a visitor at his arrival and departure is of the

ANDREW LEVIOLETTE.

FORT RAE ‘ 93

utmost importance. Then it is that the smartest colors are
worn; the canoeist takes a deliberate stroke, but those beside
him can see the bend of the paddle-blade, and the knotting of
his muscles, as he grips the handle more tightly. My canoe
seemed disposed, at first, to travel in a circle, and as the direction
of the revolution could not be foretold, my companion found
it safer to give me a wide seaway. There was little danger of
capsizing, however, owing to the load which steadied the craft,
and I soon succeeded in making tolerable progress.

The only shelter we had been able to get was a leaky tar-
paulin, through which the rain, which came up that evening,
dripped upon us for the next thirty-six hours, for the wind
held us all that time in camp.

On the evening of the fourth day we passed a group of rocky
islands, occupied as a breeding place bya colony of gulls,
which rose at our approach and settled in the tops of the
slender fir trees on the mainland. The unusual perch and the
pretty effect of the evening sun shining upon the snow-white
birds, a single one crowning each dark column of needles and
cones, attracted even Andrew’s attention.

Early the fifth day we overtook an Indian who, accompanied
by his wife, was on his way to the Yellow Knife. They had
just stopped to cook some Hutchins’ geese, and of course
Andrew became very hungry at sight of their fire and wished
to jointhem. The old wife in plucking the birds, transferred
tufts of down to her own person by frequent attention to the
parasites with which all the Dog Ribs are infested. Stripping
the viscera through her fingers and eating the choicer mor-
sels, she continued to scratch, thus adding grease and more dirt
to her grotesque crown. We continued through the winding
chenals (anglicized as “‘schnys’’), among low islands, where we
often ran uncomfortably close to sunken rocks. The Indian
couple guided us the rest of the day. They had two dogs in
each canoe that lay quietly in the bottom until we gave chase
to a flock of young geese, when they threatened to capsize the
canoes by their attempts to stand on the gunwales. These dogs
are trained when young to enter the canoes when called; any
disposition toward restlessness is met with a vigorous rap from
the paddle.

Within five miles of Yellow Knife Bay the islands became
larger with high and precipitous cliffs of granite.

74 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The next day, which was Sunday, we were compelled to lie
in camp by a northeast wind that covered the bay with white
caps. In traveling in the North, Sunday is seldom observed
asa day of rest. The natives perform the usual service and
then continue their journey. Some missionaries remain in
camp unless there is a fair wind blowing. Yellow Knife Bay is
nearly clear of islands. The shores approach to within a mile
of each other, inclosing an inner bay, where we passed a large
canoe load of Yellow Knives on their way toward the river.
At the river’s mouth the current was scarcely perceptible. For
the next six miles the channel expanded into three small lakes
the first two of which contained islands. We kept to the left
at a venture and found that we were following the shortest
route.

The first rapid has a descent of about ten feet. It is neces-
sary to make a portage in ascending the stream, but the Indians
are said to run the rapids on the return trip.

While “Baron” Leviolette was descending this chute in a
York boat thirty years ago, one of the oars struck a rock and
killed the man holding it, as the handle was driven forward.

There is a fishery in the strong eddy at the foot of the rapids,
where the natives set their gill-nets for whitefish and incon-
nues or “be-vwu-li cu-g-d,” the Dog Rib name for the river
being Be-vwu-li Te. This was the rendezvous of Little Cra-
peau’s brigade of Yellow Knives. About fifty had already
arrived and were encamped on the grassy slope below the
gorge, through which the noisy stream finds its way from the
lake. They were busily engaged in building small canoes for
the inland journey tothe caribou. The lake canoes were drawn
out and left bottom up, in the shade of the trees, where they
would remain until required the following spring to transport
furs to Resolution. Large rolls of birch bark were lying about
which had been brought from the delta of the Slave River, a
hundred miles distant, by the canoe route. The canoe birch,
Betula papyrifera Marshall, attains a much greater size on the
south than on the north shore of the lake. The men were cut-
ting prows and stern-pieces from dry spruce stumps which had
the required curve. The women were sewing the squares of
bark together with wattap (split pine roots).

Having obtained a few directions, which proved altogether

FORT RAE 75

wrong, about the route, we crossed the portage of a hundred
yards, on the right of the rapids, and launched the canoes upon
Prospect Lake. The Yellow Knife River is simply a chain of
lakes connected by rapidsand falls. The lakes are usually long
and narrow, their general direction being north and south or
northeast and southwest.

We followed the rugged cliffs on our left for half a mile,
then turned to the left through a broad channel into the north-
ern arm of the lake. Wecamped upona small bay on the west
shore near the site of another “‘old fort.” The lake terminates
in two bays. We entered the wrong one the next morning and
had to turn back, finding that the stream entered the western-
most by a narrow oblique channel, not visible a hundred yards
from the entranc:. We soon reached a series of cascades about
a mile in length. The portage trail of more than a thousand
paces leads from the east bank of the basin at the foot of the
last chute to Fishing Lake, at a point some distance south of
the river channel. This was our longest portage and I fully
realized the advantage of having a light canoe by the time I
had carried mine across.

We were unable to form any estimate of the extent of Fish-
ing Lake as a wooded peninsula shut out the eastern arm from
view. A mile and a half northward, we entered the river,
where a ledge of rocks compelled us to portage half our load.
Crossing a small lake we reached a cascade with a portage of
fifty yards on the left. We were now upon the Nine Lakes, a
long irregular body of water containing many islands. We
crossed to the left through a narrow bay, then turned eastward.
We searched for two hours in a bay to the left for a por-
tage, which Andrew said he had been told existed there, and
finally gave it up and entered the bay on the right, through
which we passed without portaging. Passing a small colony of
ring-billed gulls, we camped on the north shore where a cas-
cade came tumbling froma picturesque little chain of lakes
above us.

In the morning we chose the southernmost of three bays,
before us and found a chute about fifteen feet in height, which
we passed by a portage of fifty yards on the left. On our
return trip we heard the roar of rapids in the direction of
the northern bay, indicating the presence of a tributary of con-

76 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

siderable size. This lake, perhaps the Lower Carp Lake of
Franklin, is bordered upon the north by the “ironstone” for-
mation and on the south by cliffs exceeding five hundred feet
in height, containing conspicuous bands of feldspar and, in
places, considerable quantities of mica. We encamped at the
extremity of the lake. Our net yielding no fish, we moved the
next morning to the river, which enters the lake near the
middle of the south shore and camped at the foot of a short
rapid. The next morning we found nothing in the net. We
had a gull for breakfast, however, a sharp-tailed grouse for
lunch and for dinner the staff of (Northern) life—dried meat.

Continuing our journey, we followed the channel of irregular
width for a couple of miles to a large lake extending toward
the southward. The sound of rapids directed us to the river,
two miles down the east shore, where the chute is at least fifty
feet in height. A few trees cut during the preceding winter
were the only sign that the place had ever been visited. The
portage of two hundred yards on the left was quite open. A
spruce standing just above the rapids measured five feet in cir-
cumference and was of fair height, but it was noticeably larger
than any other that I saw on the trip. The timber was much
smaller than near the big lake, and the summits of the hills
nearly barren. We followed the lake a distance of three miles
eastward, then six miles northward, where from the summit of
a high hill, which we ascended, we could trace its course for
several miles toward the hills of the Barren Ground, which the
Indians afterward assured us that we would have reached by
crossing two more lakes. They never follow that route them-
selves in going to the Barren Ground. The site of Fort Enter-
prise must have been within our horizon.

The caribou were beyond our reach. The net yielded no
fish and our supply of dried meat was nearly gone. I had
become convinced that any attempt to collect birds in that
region would prove unprofitable, and as geographical explora-
tion was not one of the “scientific objects” enumerated in my
instructions, I decided to go no further in that direction. I
cut a lop-stick! on the shore of the last lake to commemorate

1A lop-stick is made by trimming the upper branches from an isolated
spruce, leaving atuft atthe top. These are the guide boards of the country.

Such a tree usually marks the halfway points between trading stations, the
beginning of side trails, or wayside fisheries.

A WAIF FROM AN ABANDONED DOG RIB CAMP.

FORT RAE a4

the visit of an Iowan to that desolate lake, never before visited,
I believe, by a white man. Franklin had followed the Indian
route more to the northward.

We camped for the night at the head of the Nine Lakes,
where the net, set below the falls, yielded, next morning seven
yellow suckers, three whitefish, three jackfish, and a lake trout.
A head wind prevented traveling that day. I occupied the
time in taking photographs of the surrounding country and in
collecting land birds, as I had done on several windy days dur-
ing the trip. Another day’s paddling brought us to Prospect
Lake, where we found the Indians scattered along the whole
length of the west shore. Only a few could use the portage
path above their old camp at one time, so that they had been all
day in getting under way. There were sixty canoes in all;
some of them were new, some were old but patched with bright
new pieces of bark, some were without the bark deck and
seemed so old and fragile that one involuntarily looked to see
how far the occupant would have to swim to reach the shore.

The men had lighter loads than the women. They paddled
about in the bays after waterfowl. Shotguns were used, though
wounded birds were often killed with steel-pointed arrows.
Nearly every canoe contained two or three dogs, which were
poor and thin, and naturally of inferior size, so that they added
little to the load. The canoes contained a heterogeneous col-
lection of muskemoots (bags of woven babiche), blankets, nets,
lodges and other personal property. An occasional clean
blanket or a powder keg indicated that a recent visit had been
made by the owner to Resolution. They had been given a
large amount of “debt” and had an abundance of tea, tobacco,
and ammunition; yet every man that was notashore came along-
side to beg for these articles and many others.

We camped on the portage near the deserted camp, the lodge
poles of which remained standing. All property not required
upon the hunt had been cached on tripods of long poles, the
lower half of which had been peeled to prevent the carcajous
from climbing them. An abandoned Indian camp is not an
attractive spot with its smoke-begrimmed skeletons of former
lodges, its rags, heaps of hair, ashes, bones and trampled pine-
tops.

That day we had nothing but boiled suckers to eat, but the

78 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

next morning we found several excellent whitefish and large
inconnues in the net. We reached the Yellow Knife Bay at an
early hour and found a heavy sea running, against which we
slowly fought our way, being twice driven ashore to empty the
canoes of the water that broke over the bows.

On the seventeenth day a beam wind blew steadily offshore
and compelled us to paddle continuously on one side to pre-
vent the canoe from veering head to the wind. On the eight-
eenth, and last, day of the trip a fair wind enabled us to sail.
We lashed two poles across the canoes, which were thus
securely held about fifteen inches apart. Two light masts, one
in each boat meeting at the top, supported the blanket-sail.
As the breeze freshened, the water piled up between the canoes
and poured in upon us. The primitive sail was reefed until it
was little more than a roll, yet we continued to make rapid
progress. The islands protected us from the waves of the open
lake; still we were running too great a risk. I would not have
continued had I not feared that the “Wrigley,” which was then
due, would leave before our arrival. We were so wet with
spray that we did not seek shelter from the rain which fell
during the evening. We reached the post at 9 P. M., and I flat-
tered myself at the time that I presented a much better
appearance, as I glided easily up to the landing, than I had on
starting out. As I look back upon it now, I fear that I did not
present a very dignified appearance with a three weeks’ beard,
clothing wet and soiled, and limbs cramped from sitting in the
canoe all the afternoon, with two or three inches of water in
the bottom.

We had traveled over two hundred and fifty miles, and had
secured a number of valuable birdskins, though the conditions
were not favorable for such collecting. He who travels ina
large boat, with men to manage it, need have no difficulty in
making up half a dozen skins while the camp is being made.
But when a man paddles his own loaded canoe all day, it will
require all his pluck to induce him to attend to his duties as a
taxidermist in the evening.

During my absence Mr. Joseph Hodgson had been placed in
charge of the post. This gentleman, a native Manitoban, edu-
cated at St. John’s College, had spent the last twenty years in
the North. For several years he had had charge of McPher-

FORT RAE 79

son, for which place he was soon “ thinking long,” looking on
his assignment to Rae as an undeserved punishment.

Another agreeable change was that the whitefish were im-
proving in quality and becoming abundant. About fifteen
were taken each night in a thirty-fathom net.

August 6th, the next morning after we had reached the post,
the ‘‘ Wrigley” arrived with the season’s outfit and the mails.

Canoe Trip across the Great Slave Lake. On the evening of
August 27th I learned that a party of French métis would
start the next day for Resolution, or “Slave Lake,” as it is
called by the Company’s people. Alexis Laferté had secured
a lake canoe and, assisted by his brother Vitall and an Indian
named Emile, intended to move his family across the lake,
where he was to enter the service of the free traders. I still
hoped that I could “make the fall hunt” for musk-ox, if not
with the Dog Ribs, then with the Yellow Knives who trade at
Resolution. It was desirable that I should have a more satis-
factory interpreter than Andrew. Finally, I wished to make
arrangements to hunt buffalo from Resolution in midwinter.
“ Lixie” was willing to carry a passenger, if I “ paddled my
own weight.” He declared that there would be “small little
room” for baggage, and urged me to take only my blanket and
a little provision. I took sufficient dried meat for five days,
as that was the time usually required, under favorable condi-
tions, to make the trip. The season of autumnal storms was
at hand, but we relied upon the net and trout hooks to furnish
us with fish in case we should be delayed. After starting, I
found that the canoe would easily have carried a half ton more!

On the 28th the several members of the party occupied so
much time in bidding their friends farewell, and alternately
smoking a last “pipe” and drinking a last cup of tea, that it
was nearly sunset before they were ready, when they concluded
that it was too late to start, and the fair wind, which had been
blowing steadily all day, was not utilized. The next day these
ceremonies had to be repeated, so that it was late in the after-
noon before we set off, paddling against a strong head wind.
We traveled until a late hour to reach an alleged fishing place,
though the net yielded only one small sucker in the morning.
Shortly after midnight a heavy rain set in and continued until
sunrise. My only shelter was the overturned canoe. The next

80 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

morning a strong breeze blew from the northwest. As we were
short-handed, no one thought of paddling when it was possible
to sail,so we ran gaily before the wind, keeping clear of the
rocks by good luck rather than by skillful management. In
an hour we reached an island upon which was encamped an
old Indian named Tenony, formerly the engaged hunter for
Rae, now generally called ‘The Fort Hunter.” He had killed
a moose anda black bear on the mainland near by and, with
a half dozen of his family, was then engaged in drying the
small portion of the meat remaining after they had feasted for
two or three days. Moose are rarely killed near Rae, and their
meat is prized accordingly. As that was the height of the
berry season, the bear was very fat. The sight of bear’s grease
and moose ribs was sufficient to confirm my compagnons de
voyage in the belief that the wind was blowing too strongly for
us to continue.

The rocks offered no shelter from the cold and piercing wind
which drove clouds of mist, and occasionally rain, down upon
us. Every available kettle was soon boiling; the newcomers
provided the always acceptable tea, and Tenony hospitably in-
vited us to help ourselves to the meat, which hung upon a
temporary drying stage of crooked birch poles. The meat was
eaten boiled, roasted, burned, and even raw. We had had our
breakfast but a short time before, but that did not deter the
métis from gorging themselves, a performance repeated at
short intervals throughout the day. I had not yet abandoned
the custom of eating but three meals a day, and cared nothing
for the tea-drinking and the smoking with which they occupied
themselves between meals. I had nothing to read, I was on a
rocky islet where I could not collect specimens of any kind,
and I could not talk Dog Rib—so that I was very glad when
we again hoisted sail and parted from the most hospitable and
most persistent beggar of the eight hundred comprising the
Dog Rib nation.

I was simply a passenger, with no authority whatever over
my companions’ movements; I furnished tea for the party and
wielded a paddle. Aside from the discomfort and hardship
of such an arrangement, it gave the Indians the idea that I was
a servant and not a “master,” as they term the officers of the
Company and explorers traveling through the country. Asa

FORT RAE Sy

result, it was hard to convince them that I really could pay
when their assistance was required.

On the third day we were again favored with a fair wind
which carried us nearly to Yellow Knife Bay. The wind died
out in the afternoon and the métis amused themselves in firing
at passing crows, shouting “ vent derriere/” if the bird fell; not-
withstanding the fact that two crows were killed, the breeze
failed to freshen, and we paddled until an hour after darkness
set in before reaching the bay where we expected to catch an
abundance of both trout and whitefish. The canoe had to be
hauled out each night as a change in the direction of the wind
might cause its destruction upon the rocks. It required the
united efforts of the whole party to beach it, as the pine lining
was water soaked and heavy.

On the fourth day the wind blew with such violence that it
was impossible to cross the ten-mile traverse before us. Not
without danger of being swamped we set the net and several
cod hooks for trout. Ordinarily lake trout may be caught
along that shore weighing from ten to fifty pounds each, but
not one could we catch during the trip.

High overhead the cry of the little wavey was frequently
heard, as the V-shaped columns sailed swiftly southward,
quartering upon a northwest wind. Several loons, attracted
by the sight of the light colored canoe, or lured by a shining
tin pan, approached within gunshot, but none were secured.
The supply of ammunition was now running low; the last bul-
lets were cut into cubes and rolled into rough shot in a frying
pan. Thus far every gull, crow, or raven that came within
range had been fired at, and the same laugh followed the shot
whether the bird fell or escaped. The Indians’ guns were of
the pattern known in the country as ‘trade guns.” They were
of small bore, long, single- or double-barreled, muzzle-loaders
of light weight. Twelve to fifteen pellets of BB shot were
used to each load. These guns will carry ball with tolerable
accuracy up to a distance of a hundred yards. The balls
weigh twenty-five or twenty-eight to the pound.

At night Emile, who spoke French fluently, and Vitall would
rise at unseasonable hours and gabble about fish and dogs, the
principal topics of conversation with these people, with cease-
less repetition of “ Wah wah,” “Mon Dieu,” etc., until sleep
became impossible.

6

82 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Emile sometimes worked for the French missionaries, but
usually depended on his nets and traps for a living. He under-
stood no English, though he picked up a few words during the
trip, which he would repeat upon hearing one of them used by
the others, or when he was pleased at the result of a lucky
shot. When there was an abundance of tobacco and provision
he was good natured and ready to laugh at the most trivial
circumstance; when we began to starve his face lengthened, the
thickened nether lip drooped, and his complaints became loud
and frequent that someone in the party was to blame for the
wind and lake being vexed. When we returned a month later
and found that an old crone had died about this time, at Rae,
he of course saw that she had caused the adverse winds! After
witnessing some of his gastronomic performances I could give
some credence to the statement that he had once eaten a cari-
bou in two days; at one time he had been a member of a York
boat’s crew of seven that was given a fifty-pound sack of flour
for use while descending the Mackenzie—a journey of several
weeks. They received the flour in the evening and ate it all
during the night!

On the fifth day we moved to a larger island near by, where
we found enough driftwood, that had been driven across the
lake from the Slave River, to maintain a good camp fire. We
crossed the traverse on the evening of the seventh day, and
camped among the islands which for the next thirty miles are
much larger than those of the Northern Arm. We would have
been without provisions had we not reduced the daily ration to
one-third the usual amount. We were four days in traveling
the thirty miles of coast between Yellow Knife Bay and the
Gros Cape. This point projects from the north shore toward
the line of islands which separates the open western body of
the lake from the long, island-dotted eastern portion. Our
route followed the islands across to the south shore, a distance
of perhaps fifty miles from the Gros Cape.

Taking advantage of a calm on the tenth day we crossed the
first traverse, and stopped to boil the kettle on a small island.
Emile started to gather driftwood, but came back at once
shouting, ‘Les graines jaunes.” We all scrambled up the
rocks to a stretch of moss, covering the northern half of the
island, where a fine patch of yellow berries, sheltered from the

FORT RAE 83

sun by the slope of the hill, still remained upon the stem,
though it was past the season for them. The berries were like
large blackberries in shape, but yellow in color and slightly
oily in taste.!. This island, two hundred yards in diameter, had
a little soil among the rocks, which supported prolific red rasp-
berries, red and black currants, saskatoons, and gooseberries,
while the surface of the moss was covered with yellow berries,
creeping blueberries, cranberries, and crowberries. Our party,
which (including Alexis’ wife and three children) numbered
eight mouths, swept across the island like a swarm of locusts.
We crossed the next traverse that afternoon. It was about
fourteen miles to the islands in advance, which appeared on the
horizon as those behind us sank out of sight. The shifting
wind might raise a dangerous sea ina few minutes; realizing
this we paddled with all our strength, not missing a stroke for
the three hours occupied in crossing.

The next day we continued a few miles among the islands
of Simpson’s Group until we were again stopped by a norther,
that dashed the waves high over the cliffs, and made it impos-
sible to set the net, even in the lee of the little rocky island
where we camped. The scrubby timber had been recently
burned, making it a charred and dismal place. The gale con-
tinued for four days with frequent showers of rain and sleet.
We had nothing to eat and spent the time in drinking tea and
lying in a sort of torpor. I was not hungry but became very
weak, though IJ was able to paddle steadily from 4 a. M. on the
fifteenth day until 11 o’clock when we crossed the Grand
Traverse, the most dreaded of all, and reached the shores of
the Slave Delta at l’Isle de Pierre. We found a few gooseber-
ries there which were fully ripened and as large as cherries.
The vegetation was much more varied and luxuriant than upon
the north shore of the lake. Waterfowl and muskrats were
quite common in the delta, though without ammunition we
could not secure any of them. After our feast of berries, hav-
ing disposed of one whitefish, the total catch of our last station,
we started for Resolution, now only twenty-five miles distant.

1 Mackenzie mentions the occurrence of “another berry, of a very pale
yellow colour, that resembles a raspberry, and is of a very agreeable
flavour” (Voyages, p.69), near the mouth of the Mackenzie River. This is

probably the same species and would place its northern limit of distribu-
tion at the Arctic coast. It is called “tsuakah” by the Slaveys.

84 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

As we were slowly making our way up one of the channels of
the Big River that evening, we met a free trader and his inter-
preter who were hunting ducks. Mr. Nagle was expecting
Alexis and at once asked me if I was M. Laferté! Little won-
der that I was mistaken for a half-breed at the end of that
trip! The hunters had a dozen cakes and three or four ducks
in their canoe. Three muskrats were soon killed and boiled
with the ducks. How delicious were those muskrats—my com-
panions attempted to express their appreciation by calling
them ‘castors;” the luxury of eating bread once more! We
camped there for the night, as it was still several miles to the
post. The next morning our blankets were white with the
first heavy frost of the season. Our breakfast—comforting
thought, the certainty of having a breakfast—consisted of
ducks and rats. I did not stop to see whether my portion was
of the former or the latter. A steady rain set in as we were
pushing off, which continued until we reached the post at 3 P. M.

I enjoyed the hospitality of the clerk in charge fora day
and a half before starting upon my return to Rae, and I must
confess that I lived to eat during that time. I found that the
Indians would not arrive for several weeks, and that I could
not hire an assistant for the musk-ox hunt at Resolution. I
succeeded, however, in engaging an Indian to guide me to the
buffalo country during the coming winter.

The free traders had been awaiting Alexis’ arrival before
sending a scow loaded with goods across the lake; this enabled
me to return at once to Rae. We left the post on September
15th, and reached I’Isle de Pierre early on the third day. Here
two men, who had helped us row through the delta, turned
back, leaving us to depend almost entirely upon our sail. We
started upon the fifteen-mile traverse with a favorable wind
which suddenly shifted to the north and compelled us to run
back toward the island. The lake became very rough and the
waves soon broke over the quarter which we covered with tar-
paulins. Had it been another mile to the island we would
never have reached it. We remained there the next day, dry-
ing the goods and waiting for a fair wind. On the fifth day we
crossed to the Gros Cape, where we again sought shelter from
the north wind which howled across the lake for the next four
days. On the 26th of September we sailed into a channel

FORT RAE 8s

covered with new ice an inch in thickness, which cut quite
through the planks of the bow before the boat could be stop-
ped. We several times ran upon sunken rocks among Les Isles
Fortes, fortunately without breaking the scow. We reached
Rae on the 29th, having been fourteen days on the return trip.

On the 29th Mr. Hodgson and I crossed the arm to the
“Mountain,” about seven miles south of the post, to hunt ducks
in the numerous ponds in that vicinity. My companion had
bagged almost a hundred there in a few hours the preceding
week, but nearly all were gone when we arrived. The lake had
frozen over on the 25th. It had broken up again the next day,
but it was not safe to remain on the west shore when the tem-
perature began to fall, as it did on the third day, so we made
haste to embark upon our return. Three miles from the post
a dense fog enveloped us; there was not a breath of wind to
assist us in keeping our course; I undertook to steer my Dog
Rib canoe by a pocket compass and, with the sluggish needle
and the exceedingly sensitive canoe, it was a difficult piece of
navigation. After two hours of wandering we reached the
shore, and my canoeing was ended for the season.

October at Rae. When the lake had frozen over a large num-
ber of nets had been lost as the ice broke up and drifted south-
ward. This interrupted the fishing, which was not resumed
until the 19th of October, when the ice set fast for the winter.
Over twenty thousand fish were hung during the ‘fall fishery”
by the Company and the Roman Catholic mission; principally
whitefish and inconnues. The whitefish obtained at Rae are
small or medium-sized. The best fisheries on the Great Slave
Lake are at Resolution, Big Island at the outlet of the lake,
and recently at Hay River, where a storm, accompanied by a
“big wave,” in 1890, brought a large species of whitefish to the
fishing grounds off the mouth of the river, where it has since
remained. Previous to that time the whitefish taken at that
fishery had been similar to those at Rae, not exceeding two or
three pounds in weight. The lake trout, Salvehinus namycush
Walb., is caught in considerable numbers at Resolution during
the winter, but is seldom seen at Rae, though common at Trout
Rock, twenty-five miles southeast of that post. Inconnues,
Stenodus mackensit, weighing ten to fifteen pounds, are caught
in considerable numbers but are of poor quality. They dete-

86 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

riorate as they advance southward from the Arctic Sea. Jack-
fish, Zsox luctus Linn., and suckers, Catostomus longirostris, are
somewhat common. The Joche, Sata maculosa, is also caught,
but only the roe and liver are eaten. This species (if it be the
same) sometimes attains very large size; Count de Sainville,
whom I afterward met at McPherson, assured me that he had
measured a doche, which he had caught in the arctic Red River,
that was four and one-half feet long. A stray herring was
taken in one of the whitefish nets, the meshes of which are usu-
ally too large for this species, seldom found above the mouth
of the Liard River. (I did not see the specimen myself.)

The isolated hills about Rae are covered with willows and
low bushes; these attracted large numbers of ptarmigan, Lago-
pus lagopus Linn., which made their appearance on the first of
October. They were just assuming their winter garb, and as the
permanent snow did not come until the 23rd, their white plum-
age rendered them very conspicuous amid the grays and
browns of their environment. A score of hawks, Accipiter atri-
capillus (Wils.), soon gathered about the post to prey upon
the ptarmigan. The latter when pursued flew high and straight
away, seemingly holding their own in the race. If swooped
down upon when on the ground, they merely crouched as if
relying on their usual safeguard—protective coloration. More
than once the hawk was bagged as he rose with his victim—
dead—in his talons. Until driven away by the dogs and the
métis boys, the ptarmigan came about the buildings without
fear. It was not an unusual thing for me to shoot them off
the roof of my cabin for breakfast. Pot hunting, indeed!

The winter birds were noticeably fewer in number of individu-
als, and also of species than at the station occupied the previ-
ous winter on the Saskatchewan.

Periodical Events Recorded in the Journals at Rae.

Ice broke up, June rst, 1857.
June 7th, 1858.
May 30th, 1859.
June 3rd, 1883.
June 23rd, 1884.
June 18th, 1885.

Lake froze, October 19th, 1857.
October 6th, 1864.
October 28th, 1880.

FORT RAE 84

The ice clears close to the post nearly a month before
it disappears beyond the Grosse Isle, ten miles to the south-
ward. It does not disappear au /arge—beyond Big Point, until
late, sometimes the middle of July. In 1859 this entry occurs
for June 2oth: “Ice-bound among the islands thirty miles
southeast of the fort, and the mosquitoes in myriads.” It will
be observed that the ice broke up at the post, where the arm
is much narrower, on the 30th of May.

August 12th, 1884, the journal reads: “Snowstorm all day.”
A record of the temperature was kept, with some interruptions,
from November, 1883, until May, 1885. No other meteoro-
logical data have been recorded in the Rae journals.

During the winter of 1882-3 Captain H. P. Dawson, with
three assistants, made observations on meteorological and
magnetic phenomena at Rae. This point was chosen because
it is the nearest of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s posts to the
magnetic pole.

CHAPTER VI
WINTER TRAVEL

TY HE Caribou Hunt. Vague rumors had reach Fort Rae con-

cerning the whereabouts of the ‘‘deer” during the last
week of October, but it was not until the first of November
that a party left the post to hunt them.

A few years ago the Barren Gound caribou appeared about
the fort regularly upon All Saints day. They were often killed
from the buildings, and throughout the winter might be found
near the post. In 1877 an unbroken line of caribou crossed
the frozen lake near the fort; they were fourteen days in pass-
ing, and in such a mass that, in the words of an eyewitness,
“daylight could not be seen” through the column. They are
now seldom seen within several miles of Rae.

The “Fort Hunter,’ Tenony, with seven of his followers,
was Just starting upon a seventy-five mile journey toward the
north on the evening of the first, when I learned of his inten-
tions, and after I had agreed to furnish a few skins of flour,
tea, and tobacco, and to pay a skin a day for a dog driver, it
was settled that I might accompany them into the hunting
grounds where the chief, Naohmby, had objected to my going
three months before, on the ground that all the game would
desert the country if pursued by a naturalist.

I loaded my sled with thirty whitefish, three ‘days’ provision
for the dogs, and fifteen pounds of dried meat for the boy;
during the trip I shared alternately with each, the rank, hung
fish driving me to dried meat, and the leathery slabs compelling
me to return to the fish.

As the “brigade” only intended getting clear of the fort that
evening, I preferred to remain and make an early start the next
day. We left the fort at daylight on the second, Yahty running
before the dogs. Our course was northward for twelve miles,

88

WINTER TRAVEL 89

to the end of the Northern Arm of the Great Slave Lake,
whence a channel, a hundred yards in width, called Willow
River, continues for half a mile before expanding into a small
lake extending toward the northeast and connecting by a num-
ber of “schnys” with Lac Brochet. Following the eastern
shore of the small lake, we crossed a short portage and, trav-
ersing a narrow channel for a couple of miles, reached Sa-ka-
to" Tw’, the Lake of the Bear’s Shoulder. This body of water
must exceed twenty-five miles in length.

We did not succeed in overtaking Tenony, but encamped
near the end of the lake with an Indian, who, with his ten year
old son and three miserable giddés, was also in quest of the
caribou. He carried a powder horn differing from any that I
saw in the North. It was made by boring or burning out a
section of the beam of a caribou’s antler. He would smilingly
beg for tea and tobacco, not becoming in the least disheartened
by repeated refusals. I was glad to escape his importunities
by leaving camp at 4a.m. The brisk trot of our well-fed team
soon carried us out of reach of the yells of the giddés as the
lash was unsparingly applied in his efforts to keep up with the
‘““Mollah” who had such quantities of ‘lee tea” and “tobah.”
Passing a couple of miles of short portages we reached another
large lake, called by the Dog Ribs, Kwém-ta Tu’, the Lake of
the White Rock, where we found Tenony encamped.

The Indians had been aroused by their dogs greeting our
approach with barks and howls, and were huddled behind a
roaring fire with their blankets, once white, now a dirty gray,
thrown over their shoulders, their hands outstretched toward
the welcome blaze, while they guarded the few frozen fish which
were thawing and burning at their feet. Behind them a con-
fused mass of dog harness, wrappers, and flat sleds formed a
barrier to keep out a score or more of giddés, which were
crowding about the camp and fighting for an advantageous posi-
tion from which to watch for the few bones that escaped their
master’s teeth. After drinking tea, we followed the lake shore
toward the northwest, where a range of granite hills, called
Sah-me-t’ ie-kfwa, (Petitot) rose high above the general level
of the somewhat rugged country about them. When close to
the hills, we discovered a small band of caribou, toward which
the dogs started at their best pace, barking and straining at

go EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

their collars, and urged to greater exertion by the men, who
shouted, ‘‘Ayee ecwoh, m’nitla!” there are the caribou, now,
go! The alarmed caribou were dashing about in all directions,
yet managing to keep out of range, though several shots were
fired before they entered the timber. Around us rose the pre-
cipitous snow-covered mountains through a gap of which a
large stream entered the lake, its cascades giving off clouds of
vapor. High above us a bald eagle wheeled in majestic flight,
with white crown and crissum flashing in the light of the rising
sun. Cutting our way through a brilé we reached another
lake, upon which there was an abundance of fresh tracks. An
hour later I left the others and started down the lake with the
boy before the dogs. Three or four bands of caribou, perhaps
fifty in all, soon came out upon the ice. Yahty ran toward the
nearest of them followed by the dogs which dashed past him
at full cry as soon as they discovered the caribou. I was
seated upon the sled while Yahty, holding the sled line, ran in
the cloud of snow which trailed out behind.

The caribou stood motionless until we were within a couple
of hundred yards before making off; they soon stopped, side
on, to survey their pursuers, snuffing the air for a moment; then
they would throw back their heads and leap high in the air,
and again dash away at a swift run, passing patches of smooth
ice without a misstep. The drifts were small, but the snow
was well hardened, making a rough surface for the swift-flying
sled. Just as I would be about to pull the trigger, after taking
hasty aim, a sudden lurch would nearly dislodge me from my
seat and perhaps send the muzzle of the rifle skywards. I suc-
ceeded, however, in killing two and breaking a fore leg of an-
other which ran with undiminished speed, in fact, led the band
as they entered the timber and so escaped.

Placing a row of pine boughs at intervals of fifteen or twenty
yards quite across an arm of the lake, we concealed ourselves
on shore, and waited the appearance of the caribou. Only one
band approached our barrier, which they followed some dis-
tance, but did not venture to cross; they turned away before
coming within range. The following day we were more suc-
cessful in employing this, a common device of the Dog Ribs.

That evening we feasted until a late hour upon the first cari-
bou meat of the season. Several heads were skinned and hung

WINTER TRAVEL gr

from poles before the fire by the mitten cords of the owners
and willow hooks. As soon as the outside was roasted the jaw
was turned back and the tongue, one of the choicest bits of
all, slightly cooked. The dogs were well fed for the first time
in months; we gave them the quarters only, and cracked the
long bones for the marrow. which, raw or roasted, is one of
the greatest of Dog Rib luxuries. Look down in pity upon
“the savage and his marrow bones” if you will, but you might
perhaps relish that same marrow if you had “hustled” for
those bones yourself as I had done, or you might, after run-
ning fifty miles, pass your plate a second time for bouillon
made of blood carried to camp ina caribou’s stomach. Even
the tendons were eaten, and the feet also, after roasting them
until the hoof could be knocked off. Although I lived some
time with the Dog Ribs, and spent over a year in their terri-
tory, I never knew of their eating the contents of the caribou’s
stomach as do the Eskimos. The unborn calf, the udder of a
milk-giving cow, the tongue, the marrow and back fat are the
parts held in highest esteem.

Tenony fulfilled his promise of returning after “five sleeps,”
but marched fifty miles against a heavy gale of wind upon the
sixth day to do it.

The caribou came but little nearer during the winter of
1893-94. I made three other trips in search of them, and trav-
eled five hundred miles in all, driving my own dogs after the
first hunt with Tenony. Out of a large number secured, I
selected eight choice specimens, and during the winter obtained
the skin of an albino. Albinism is of rare occurrence among
them. One of the oldest Dog Ribs assured me that he had
never seen a “white deer.”

Sledge Trip Around the Great Slave Lake. The winter packet
starts from Simpson, the central post of the Mackenzie Dis-
trict, on the first of December. On the same day a dog train
leaves Rae to intercept the outgoing mail at Providence.
Having secured specimens of the caribou, I was ready to cross
to Resolution and engage in the buffalo hunt. Without an
Indian to run before my dogs it would have been dangerous to
attempt to follow the route traversed inthe autumn, so I decided
to accompany the packet train around the west end of the lake,
thereby doubling the distance. Of late years the winter route

92 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

to Providence has been shortened by using a blazed trail
through the bush, instead of following the north shore to Big
Island and then descending the Mackenzie. Including its
interminable windings, the new route is about one hundred and
sixty miles in length.

Henri Laferté, a métis servant, drove the packet team and,
Yahty, a strikingly handsome young Indian, whom I had had
with me on my first caribou hunt, ran before the dogs. The
trail had not been opened for the season, the snow was there-
fore soft and the way blocked by fallen trees; we were also
delayed by waiting for daylight each morning before starting,
on account of the trail being so faintly marked in the openings;
we often searched for some time to find the exit from the
numerous lakes and ponds. The snow was not yet deep
enough to cover the fallen timber against which the head of the
sled lodged every few minutes. The sled frequently caught
against standing trees at the sharp turns; these sudden stop-
pages injured the dogs’ shoulders, and the poor beasts became
dispirited and sulked along at aslow pace. At each halt it was
necessary for me to wade around the sled, to lift the head of it
clear of the obstruction. My small snow-shoes sank deep in
the snow and made this very fatiguing work. I helped the
team by pushing the sled with a “ pushing-stick” attached to the
middle of the load.

On the morning of December 7th we started at two o’clock,
expecting to reach Providence that evening. We soon lost our
way inthe darkness. Yahty and I curled up on our snow-shoes
and slept as comfortably as the position and a temperature of
thirty-eight degrees below zero would permit, while Henri
tramped around until daybreak looking for the trail, though how
he could distinguish it, even in broad daylight, was a mystery to
me. Yahty missed his way in the afternoon, and we were at
last forced to camp, though only seven miles from the post.
We were in the middle of an extensive marsh, locally known as
the “First Prairie,” where there was very little brush for acamp
floor and only a few sticks for fuel. Henri and Yahty seemed
quite contented with the situation, but the thoughts of the com-
parative comfort and the companionship of people of my own
race at the post made me very anxious to push on, but, as on
several other occasions during my journey, the custom of the

WINTER TRAVEL 93

country had to be observed; we must not “arrive” at a late
hour.

We reached Providence on the eighth of December. The
river packet had arrived from Simpson, and a day and a half
later it was sent on in charge of “Old John,” the pilot of the
“Wrigley.” He has driven the packet train across the Great
Slave Lake, the most dangerous portion of that two thousand-
mile mail route, for the last nineteenyears. In the bush strong
winds cause some hardship, but do not prevent traveling as they
do upon the lakes and Barren Ground. “Old John” had many
times starved both himself and dogs while a gale had blown
itself out, as no extra provision is taken for delays.

The letters were carried in a pine box lashed on the ordinary
flat sled. The dogs were smartly dressed in ¢afis, and the boy
who ran before the team wore a pair of new mooseskin mittens
which were covered with a mass of beads; they had a many-
colored cord attached that passed around the wearer’s neck.
His leggins, of blue strouding, reached above the knee and had
a broad stripe of beadwork along the outer seam, reaching
from the ankle to the gay-colored garter; a pair of new trousers,
a fine-cloth capote, and beaded moccasins completed his cos-
tume.

My dogs had some difficulty in keeping pace with the fresh
packet team. I was greatly in need of a few days’ rest myself,
and shall always remember that run of a hundred and seventy-
five miles as one of the most trying trips that I ever made.

Le grand froid' of winter had come. The temperature ranged
from fifty to sixty degrees below zero, Fahrenheit. If exposed
to the wind while on the march, as we were on the broad
river and on the lake, it was difficult to keep our faces from
being frozen. At night the intense cold seemed unendurable.
We never had any shelter but our blankets; it would have been
impossible to have kept a fire burning all night, as the coals
thrown off would have burned our blankets, and the quick-
burning spruce would have required frequent renewal. Toward
morning I was nearly always awakened by the bitter cold,
which sometimes gave me the impression that my feet were
certainly frozen. I sometimes started the morning fire myself.

1 Pronounced “ fréte” by the métis who give the sound of é to the diph-
thong oi.

94 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Although there was little comfort in a bed, where I was liter-
ally writhing from cold, it was not pleasant to open my blanket
covered with frost and snow, and search in the darkness for a
strip of birch bark with which to ignite the charred sticks at
our feet. After ] had put a kettle filled with snow, containing
a handful of black tea, on the fire, it was easy to rouse the
men; the rattle of a granite cup against the kettle or the cry
“lee tea’’ always brought them up at once. After eating our
dried meat, each man loaded his sled as rapidly as possible.
It was necessary to use our bare hands in lashing the sleds,
which was the coldest work of the day.

We became comfortably warm after running a few minutes,
and had accomplished nearly half our day’s journey before the
first gleams of dawn—‘“small daylight’”—had appeared;
though it rose but a short distance above the horizon, the sun’s
appearance had a wonderfully enlivening effect on our spirits.
The boy before the dogs ran with a free and untiring step, the
whips cracked merrily, the bells with a hundred tinkling
tongues proclaimed the joys of light and life in speeding over
that diamond-studded plain of purity.

Toward evening the boy stopped more frequently, the whips
fell mercilessly on the heavy coats of the tired team, our limbs
moved mechanically as if they had lost the sense of feeling,
our hands became so numb that we sometimes had to use our
teeth, instead, in loosening the sled lines.

The ice formed a solid mass in my beard, causing my voice
to sound muffled, and in time froze against my cheeks; my
eyelashes were nearly always covered with frost, which seriously
interfered with the sight; the vapor from our heated bodies
gathered in feathery crystals on the hair of our capotes, so that
we were quite indistinguishable from one another at a little dis-
tance, in fact, hardly recognizable as human beings.

Before darkness set in the dogs were halted and all entered
the bush, ax in hand, to gather fuel. After piling up half a
cord of dead spruce, “Old John” and I scraped away the snow
with our snow-shoes and laid downa thick carpet of boughs
on which to spread our blankets. The boy brought wood for
the morning fire until the camp was finished, when he lighted
the fire while we brought up our sleds. The dogs threw all
their reserve strength into the effort necessary to force the sled

WINTER TRAVEL 95

through the soft snow, plowing their way over logs, riding down
saplings and displaying desperate energy until they reached
the dark floor of the camp, where they usually ‘made them-
selves awkward” before the sleds were dragged into position
at the back and sides of the oblong bed of boughs. After
throwing out the blankets and dog fish, we relashed the sleds
and covered them with brush to prevent the dogs from gnawing
the mooseskin wrappers and the braided caribouskin lines.
The mooseskin harness was also hung out of their reach or used
as pillows. The fire extended along one side of the camp, the
logs being laid up in the form of a very obtuse angle pointing
toward us. A pole resting on the walls of snow on either side
was placed at our feet, against which the sixteen fish for the
dogs were leaned to thaw. The exterior was often burned
before the fish were rendered flexible enough to be bent by the
hands—when they were considered thawed enough. As soon
as they had been taken from the harness the dogs curled them-
selves up inthe snow and laid very quietly, until we rose to give
them their ration, when it behooved the cook to look to his
kettles, for the dogs were sure to leap over the outer ends of
the logs in their excitement. We then ate our meal of dried
meat or hung fish. During the evening the foot gear was
changed and dried; no other change of clothing was made for
the night. Before the fire died away the men ate a second
meal in which I never joined them.

We used the provision bags and such portions of our load as
the dogs could eat for pillows, where our heads did not long
rest before we were overcome by the sleep of exhaustion, which
was not to be disturbed by the dogs running over us or lying on
top of our bodies. The métis or Indians use a single three- or
three and a half-point blanket in summer and in winter add a
robe of caribou or hareskin. I have seen them sleep without
robe or blanket in very cold weather. Each individual laid upon
his vest, if so fortunate as to have one, which was not often, and
drew his capote over his head and shoulders; every hour or two
he rose to add fuel to the fire, andtwo or three times during the
night tea was boiled and a lunch eaten. The natives make a
narrow camp and curl up very much after the manner of the
hauling dogs. I always had to lengthen my sleeping place by
scooping out a pit at the back. Upon this trip I used a sleep-

96 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

ing-bag made of woodland caribouskin, which I had brought
from' Iowa City. I afterward found that the light Barren
Ground caribouskin robes, such as the natives used, were
lighter, warmer, and a great deal more convenient. I started
from Rae with two double blankets, but left one pair at Reso-
lution. On the musk-ox trip I used a single blanket, and dur-
ing the last week gave that away and used the robe alone—and
slept about as comfortably as when I had the sleeping-bag and
four blankets!

Our first day’s travel was up the Mackenzie where we experi-
enced some difficulty in finding sufficient fuel, the dry timber
having been used by the many trippers hauling fish from Big
Island to Providence. We reached Hay River on the third
day, where we spent the night at the house of Mr. T. J. Marsh,
one of the most self-sacrificing of northern missionaries. With
no companion save a Scotch servant, who has since been
ordered elsewhere, he is devoting his life to the little band of
Chippewyans who have built cabins at the mouth of the river,
upon the site of an old trading post. When he first went
among them they demanded exorbitant wages for their services,
but their attitude changed to one of respect when they found
him quite able to do without their assistance. With the aid of
his servant he attended to his nets, cut and hauled the logs,
built a dwelling house, and at the time of my visit had a large
church building nearly completed. The natives were inde-
pendent, owing to the excellent fishery before their settlement;
the long continued coaxing and wheedling of the traders had
made them impudent. They were dressed in capotes woven
from strips of hareskin. The round-cheeked and grimy young-
sters appeared to be warm and happy in their single thick and
fluffy combination garment.

Mr. Marsh spent the night in writing letters. He accom-
panied us a few miles the next morning, and as we parted at
daybreak, I felt as if I were saying farewell to the friend of
years instead of to an acquaintance of an hour. We reached
Buffalo River that evening, where we passed the night in the
single cabin which had been built there by a Chippewyan chief.
It was the largest and cleanest that I ever saw occupied by
either métis or Indian.

We failed to reach our destination on the fifth day owing to

WINTER TRAVEL 97

the dodions,! which made our progress slow and fatiguing. Five
miles offshore we found the lake free from dodions, and in
places swept clear of snow. The dogs slipped and floundered
as soon as all four of them were on the bare ice; we could not
help them, for our snow-shoes slipped so easily that it was
difficult to maintain our own equilibrium. The foregoer of the
packet team at last refused to cross the ice at all but circled
around on the irregular ridges of snow much to “Old John’s”
disgust. Early in the day we passed Sulphur Point, where
small springs emit strong sulphurous odors. We encamped
that evening on one of the Burnt Islands, which we had diffi-
culty in reaching owing to the high and vertical wall of ice
that surrounded it.

Early on the 15th of December we reach Resolution, where
I was a second time hospitably entertained by Mr. Mackinlay,
the clerk in charge. I then enjoyed a fortnight of much needed
rest. I had traveled over eight hundred miles, on my own
snow-shoes, in company with different parties of natives, each
of which had tried to “plant” me. The trip from Rae had been
a “hard” one. The dogs were nearly worn out, and unfortu-
nately there was no extra provision at the post for them. The
stock of supplies on hand was the smallest that there had been
at that season for years. Easterly winds—offshore—in Septem-
ber and October had made the fall fishery almost a failure.
No boat had been despatched to the east end of the lake,
where large quantities of dried meat and grease might have
been obtained from the caribou hunters. The stock of flour
was nearly exhausted and all other supplies for the clerk’s
table had been lost by the wrecking of the boat containing
them in the Athabasca Rapids. The post was subsisting prin-
cipally on fresh lake trout, caught with hooks set through the
ice, from one to five miles out in the bay. I could buy these
for one MB apiece but they were too heavy to carry for dog
feed, and unsuited for continuous use as food. The outlook
for the projected buffalo hunt was not bright. I could not in-
duce Little Francois, the Chippewyan hunter, whom I had
engaged in the autumn, to start until after the New-year’s fes-
tin. There were no other men available, I had to await his
pleasure—and he knew it.

1 Broken ice pushed up by a storm at the time of its setting fast in the fall.

7

98 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The Yellow Knives. On the 22d of December small bands of
Yellow Knives began to arrive from the camps across the lake.
Each party contained eight or ten men with four or five trains
of dogs. At the last camping place clean shirts and moccasins
had been put on over the old, and their hair and faces had been
freshly greased. Dashing up to the big house, with cracking
whips and jingling bells, they crowded into the clerk’s office to
shake hands and give their ‘‘news” before going to the store
to receive their “arrival gratuity,” consisting of two pots—
pints—of flour, a pot of tea, one of sugar, and two plugs of
negro-head tobacco to each man, and a somewhat larger allow-
ance to the chiefs. After begging meat and dog fish, they
betook themselves to the cabins of the Company’s servants to
eat their allowance, which is never spoiled with keeping. Some
of them brought a few pounds of dried meat for which they
received the regular price and a “present” besides. They then
begged for half of it upon which to live during the two or three
days spent at the post. “Surely the master will give us a little
meat when we are starving, for we have brought meat from far
to please him.”

Zinto was the most popular leader among them. He wasa
tall, fine-looking Yellow Knife, though somewhat disfigured
by a ferocious squint. Black Head, another prominent chief,
kept close to Zinto while the latter was about the post, either
from a desire to hold himself aloof from the vulgar herd or to
see that Zinto did not receive more favors than himself from
the master. Black Head hada round, stolid face, with a pug
nose, and an expression that was “childlike and bland.” He
asked for and obtained a New-year’s gratuity, saying that he
was going back to his camp at once. Just before New-year
he reappeared, ready for another ration!

After their festin they gathered for a big talk. The chiefs
seated themselves in chairs, the others sat crosslegged on the
floor. Zinto talked half a day, using frequent and graceful
gestures. The other chiefs also spoke at length, though of
course a great deal of time was consumed in interpreting.
Michel, the métis interpreter, translated Mr. Mackinlay’s Eng-
lish into the Yellow Knife dialect, which in turn was interpreted
in French, making a sort of triangular conversation that was
rather amusing to me. Each chief wanted to know why the

WINTER TRAVEL 99

Indian did not get fifty skins instead of thirty for musk-ox
robes? Why had he not received the gun promised him, or
the suit of clothes, or other present? Would they receive a
thousand and one things when the steamer came in July? They
wanted iron kettles, field glasses, rifles, match safes, goggles,
and medicines, pencils and paper for writing letters in syllabics
when sending for supplies, and if the master would give him
some of his own tobacco, and a pair of his own trousers the
speaker’s heart would be glad!

Mr. Mackinlay replied that he was paying them as much for
robes as the dealers in the white man’s country received for
them dressed and lined; that the steamer would bring an
enormous stock in the spring of much better goods than the
free traders could bring in; that he would give “ debt” to help
his Yellow Knife brothers, a thing which no other officer in
the service was allowed to do. It all ended by his going
to the store and dealing out a few skins of tea, tobacco and
other supplies, to be paid for when the robes were delivered—
if the hunter had been so fortunate as to secure any furs in the
meantime which he had not sold to the free trader of whom
he also endeavored to obtain as much “debt” as possible.

It was cold work for the “master,” measuring dry goods and
counting bullets in the storeroom without any fire. During the
summer season, when there are hundreds at the post, only one
is admitted to the shop at atime. The door is kept locked
behind him until he has made his purchases before the broad,
high counter, over which the clerk must clamber to reach the
goods. As soon as he goes out he is surrounded by his friends
who overhaul his bundle and give him such varied and bewil-
dering advice that he would be pleased if permitted to exchange
everything.

On Christmas eve a midnight mass was celebrated at the
Roman Catholic mission. The church was crowded with na-
tives, who were quite overcome by the splendor displayed, par-
ticularly by the scores of candles, the burning of which
appeared to be a sinful waste of several pounds of appetizing
and palatable grease. I no longer ridiculed their fondness for
grease. I had learned to value it above all other luxuries of
the country, and would not have exchanged a block of it, while
on the march, for the richest plum pudding ever made.

100 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

On Christmas day all the métis and Indians visited the big
house, and drank the twenty gallons of tea, which there awaited
them; they then moved in a body to the free trader’s tea
kettles, to the Anglican mission, to the school, and to the Catho-
lic mission, after which they separated to enjoy a good square
meal in the métis cabins.

The bush Indians left the post the next day. At New-year
a different crowd gathered for another festin. The day opened
with a salute from a scoreof guns before each door; it was spent
in feasting and closed with a dance which was continued until 8
A. M., January 2nd. The Indians danced in one of the cabins.
They sang improvised songs, descriptive of their hunts or their
relations with the traders, or chanted in monotonous but not un-
musical syllables, such as Hi! He! He-yah! or Heeja, Hooja!
accompanying the voice with hand-clapping and drum-beating.
They danced, or rather stamped, in a circle, swaying their bodies
from side to side. Sometimes the dancer bent far forward, bal-
anced upon one foot, his whole body quivered, and his voice
sank to a guttural huh, huh. Tonality was subordinated to
ungraceful and violent body action and the effect, as a whole,
was not pleasing.

The whites and métis danced their jigs and reels in the big
house. The festin disposed of the last of the imported provi-
sion. Meat was more abundant at the camp, for which the
Indians made haste to depart next day.

The Buffalo Hunt. As Little Francois, in contracting to guide
me to the buffaloes, made his demands according to the pres-
ent advanced ideas prevalent among the Chippewyans, I will
narrate the circumstances somewhat in detail. Indian laborers
are accustomed to receive daily rations for themselves and fam-
ilies, who, as they never make any provision for the future,
would starve the next day if the net and gun failedthem. They
are given a small plug of negro-head tobacco each day; this is
smoked. I never saw a Northern Athabascan Indian chew
tobacco.

Francois demanded double wages; he was getting too old to
walk before my dogs; he must take his own team and ride part
of the way; another man must, therefore, be hired to walk be-
fore the dogs. Henri was willing to go for the same wages
that Francois received. The latter concluded that if I furnished

WINTER TRAVEL 101

the old wife with rations, they must be such as were used at
the post; she must have flour and bacon. A woman usually
receives a half ration, which is more than an ordinary white
man would eat. Francois thought that fifty pounds of flour
and twenty-five of bacon would perhaps keep her from actual
starvation for the next fifteen days, but for fear it would not,
he wanted another week to hunt moose so that she could have
some fresh meat. It was really touching to see how solicitous
he was for the welfare of his childless spouse. He then left
the post, telling the interpreter to have me bring plenty of tea
and tobacco. I took every pound of meat and flour that I
could purchase at the store, from the mission, and the free
trader, and then did not have enough.

On the 8th I went to his house at the mouth of little Buffalo
River, and found, as I had expected, that he had not gone to
hunt moose, but had asked for delay in order that sufficient
time might elapse before again visiting his traps which were
upon our route. When I reached the house, the old wife
wanted tea and tobacco. I had brought compressed tea, for
convenience in carrying; this did not suit their cultivated tastes.
They were “thinking long” for meat, and would I not give
them a supper from the scanty stock on my sled? Could I not
give her some more sugar? The men would require plenty of
matches, and could I not spare her a few boxes also? Frangois
was quite right in making as good a bargain as possible, but
he was not so unsophisticated as his ancestors, who would have
served me for the sake of the extra buttons on my capote and
perhaps one cup of tea on the trip. I purchased here ten
sticks of the smallest whitefish that I saw anywhere in the
country. They had been caught in the Little Buffalo River,
and did not exceed one pound each in weight. I left eight fish
for my dogs on the return trip; these were stolen during my
absence.

We started at 9 A. M., January gth, and followed the river for
perhaps eight miles. Its course is remarkably straight for that
of asmall stream flowing through a low alluvial plain. It is
sometimes used as a canoe route to Fort Smith, a portage
being made into the Slave River. Henri said that its water
was brackish, owing to the salt springs near its source.
It is mapped as a single, unbranched stream, but it is formed

102 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

by three creeks flowing from the southwest. The first flowed
in a narrow, winding channel, cut but little below the plain;
the second had a shallow channel, bordered by a narrow
marsh, which wound through a heavy forest. We followed
its course for a few miles to avoid cutting a trail through the
bush. Every few minutes the dogs turned back, whining as
they licked their feet, which had been wet by the water lying
on the ice just under the crust of snow; for the water was over-
flowing the ice and prevented from freezing to any extent by
the mineral impurities which it contained. The ice gathered
at each crossing on the bottoms of the sleds whence it must be
scraped with knife and ax before the dogs could haul the
heavy loads in thesoft snow. The slush gathered on our moc-
casins and snow-shoes, and froze in a solid mass in a very few
minutes. I broke through the ice with one foot, but as the
water did not penetrate to the skin, I continued until we
camped for the night, with a cylinder of ice reaching to my
knee. The third creek, the Indians said, took its rise near
Buffalo Lake. It was but a few feet in width with banks about
twenty feet in height.

Our course was toward the south, for two days, along Fran-
cois’ trapping trail, where he found a few martens and a fisher
in his traps and a dozen hares in snares. He would not sell me
the fisher and deliver it to me from the trap, at the price that
he would receive at the post after carrying it for a week and
skinning and drying the pelt.

The buffaloes were said to be found on the prairies, but these
were so small, compared with the wooded area, that I kept ask-
ing Henri if we were near the prairies yet, not considering the
occasional marshy meadows worthy of the name prairie. The
country was monotonously level and covered with innumer-
able “lakes.”

After leaving the trapping trail we had to cut our way through
the bush. Henri broke the trail with large hunting snow-shoes
which sank several inches in the snow, making a furrow in
which the dogs floundered along with their backs on a level
with the surface. My snow-shoes were of the smallest size,
which made the walking more fatiguing. I used the pushing-
stick on the level, and hauled on the head of the sled in ascend-
ing the steep banks of the ponds. As I tramped along in the

WINTER TRAVEL 103

yielding snow, pushing with all my strength to keep up the cir-
culation of the blood, which was not warmed by the snail-like
pace, I thought of how much more slowly the buffaloes of the
plains would have been exterminated if those who had killed
them in sheer wantonness had been compelled to hunt them as
I was hunting the wood buffaloes of the North.

At the end of the fourth day we reached the northern limit
of the buffalo range, perhaps fifty miles south of the Great
Slave Lake. The next day was spent in search of buffaloes,
the dogs being left in camp.

The only result of the day’s work, was the opening a trail,
six or seven miles in advance, which “set” during the night
and formed a hard track forthe sleds. When the natives travel
in winter, the men keep such a track opened a day’s march
ahead of the women, who follow with the sleds, set up the
deerskin lodge at nightfall, and cut wood for the camp-fire.
In this way the moose and caribou along the route are secured
by the hunters, and not driven away by the noisy company in
charge of the sleds, and then, too, the frozen track makes pro-
gress possible for the always overloaded and underfed dogs.

We pushed on the next morning at a rapid pace until we fell
in with the soft snowagain. Early in the afternoon we entered
an extensive grove of pines, Pinus bankstana Lamk., the cyprés
of the métis. The trees were the largest that I saw in th;
country, of this species.1_ We camped late and were until 10
A. M. the next day, in reaching the prairie, at the farther side
of the banksian pines. There another day was spent in fruit-
less search for signs of the buffaloes. We had just enough
provision left for the return trip. Frangois said that it was four
days’ travel to the next prairie, and he did not know the way.
I had no alternative but to turn back. The snowstorm, which
prevailed during our stay at the last camp, filled our track and
made the hauling as heavy as during the outward journey.
One of my dogs had injured his shoulder on the way to Provi-
dence, and I had to turn him out of the harness and help the
others with the pushing-stick.

We started down the Little Buffalo River late on the thir-
teenth day, against a strong wind. The thermometers at the

1] found groves of fair-sized banksian pine as far north as the Sah-me-
tie-kfwa Hills, at least fifty miles north of Rae,

104 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

post registered forty-three degrees below zero at that time.
Henri left us at a brisk run, yet his nose and cheeks were
frozen before he reached Frangois’ house. I could only facethe
wind for a few minutes at a time, but by devoting my whole
attention to it I escaped with slight nips where the ice formed
in my beard. Frangois’ cheeks were frozen; when in sight of
his cabin, he bolted for the fire and left his dogs to be attended
to by his wife. Imagine my feelings on finding that the fish had
been stolen whichmy dogs so greatly needed, or my own satis-
faction in seeing them whip the band of about twenty giddés
at feeding time, and recover their own.

I reached the post the next dayand learned that the returned
packet men had heard that two buffaloes had been killed by
the Smith Indians in the fall, and that the main herd had just
passed in our direction. As Frangois killed buffaloes nearly
every year, the people at the post were confident that we
would find them. I had not time to make a second attempt
from Resolution or Smith, as the time was near at hand when I
must prepare for the musk-ox hunt.

During my absence from the post, a trader had arrived from
Willow River, twenty miles north of Rae, accompanied by Chil-
louis, one of the numerous Laferté family. Chillouis had not
been a very successful guide, as they had lost their way and
spent a night on the open lake without fire or food. He was
cross-eyed and said to be unable ‘“‘to follow a beated track.”

The trader was ready to return and I was glad of an oppor-
tunity to accompany him, as I had expected to cross the lake
alone. We started on the 24th of January and slept that night
in a solitary cabin which an enterprising métis had built near
l’Isle de Pierre. We were awakened two or three times by the
arrival of small parties of Yellow Knives, who were onthe way
to the outlying camps. The single room was soon filled with
men who, after disposing of several kettles of tea, threw them-
selves down upon the floor with a heap of dog harness, an
extra capote, or the floor alone for a pillow. Each man
wrapped in a single blanket, pulled close over the head,
stretched his bare feet toward the fireplace, above which the
moccasins and ragged foot-wrappings were drying. Notwith-
standing the vitiated atmosphere, caused by thirty persons
occupying an almost air-tight room, for several hours, I rested

WINTER TRAVEL 108

very comfortably upon that cabin floor and felt little inclined
to leave its comparative comfort at 4 4. M. to harness my shiv-
ering team in the biting cold of an arctic night and start before
daybreak across the Grand Traverse.

The Indians usually cross at night, directing their course
by the stars. They dread the cold winds which blow during
the day and fill the air with drifting snow until all landmarks
are obscured.

Until we reached the mainland north of the lake, we had to
dig driftwood for fuel out of the deep snow. We followed the
canoe route, with which I had become painfully familiar the
preceding summer, As we were plodding along one evening
among the islands, my dogs suddenly caught the scent of a
band of caribou which was somewhere to windward on the
mainland. They had been hauling as if quite exhausted, but
that scarcely perceptible breath of air was sufficient to start
them at full speed toward the familiar game.

We reached Rae late on the sixth day, though we had to rise
at 3 A. M.each morning to make the trip in the appointed time.
I suffered from the mal de racquette the last day which, fortu-
nately, had not before troubled me on the whole six hundred
and fifty-mile journey; I had been absent two months from
Rae, had pushed the sled most of that distance, and had not
even seen a buffalo track for my pains.

The prospects for a successful musk-ox hunt, which was the
next and the chief undertaking of the expedition, were not
promising, so that my spirits were at the lowest ebb during
the month of February, 1894, which I spent in the cold and
lonely cabin at Rae.

During the month Mr. Hodgson and IJ maintained a “trap-
ping track,” or rather, a line of poisoned baits, thirty miles in
length. The Dog Ribs were so afraid of strychnine that they
would not even touch an animal killed by it. They know that
it is very bad medicine indeed, for did not Kwatse die in the
springtime from using the water of the Great Slave Lake a few
miles from where a bait had been left in the winter’s snow?
The Loucheux of the Lower Mackenzie are not so timid, they
use strychnine for baits without fear. Nearly every clerk sets
a few baits each winter, which usually succeed in killing the
favorite dog of the post, a red or cross fox, or very rarely a
silver fox.

106 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

I occupied the few hours of daylight, at that season in cut-
ting firewood and in writing up my journals. I could not
work at night as I had neither lamp nor candles. I had great
difficulty in keeping the cabin warm enough to prevent the ink
from freezing even when I sat beside the fireplace which was
kept well filled. Back, writing at the eastern end of the Great
Slave Lake in February, 1834, had a similar experience: ‘Ink
and paint froze. I made an attempt to finish a sketch by plac-
ing the table as near the fire as I could bear the heat; but a
scratchy mark, and small shining particles at the point of the
sable, convinced me that it was useless. On one occasion,
after washing my face within three feet of the fire, my hair was
actually clotted with ice before I could dry it.”!

I several times found that the ice had formed upon my hair
in a few seconds so that the comb would not pass through
it readily. The fireplace was only large enough to contain a
few billets of wood in an upright position. The northern fire-
place is never broad or deep. It is designed to throw out as
much heat as possible from the small billets of quick-burning
pine and spruce wood. It is usually provided with two hooks,
one for the tea kettle and the other for the kettle in which
meat or fish is boiled. I preferred to cook my own venison, of
which I had secured an abundance, and occasionally indulged
in a bit of whitefish roasted by suspending it from the rafters
above.

Without the daily visits of Mr. Hodgson I should have found
the monotony of fort life hard to endure, but his long residence
in the Far North had furnished him with a store of experience
that enabled him to make the most of the ‘pleasures of soli-
tude,” and had given him a wide acquaintance with the natives
and the peculiar cult of the Company’s people. Stalwart of
frame—standing six feet three inches in height—he was re-
spected by the natives as a man not to be trifled with. The
prestige of ‘The Honorable, the Hudson’s Bay” has been in
no small degree acquired through the personal valor of its rep-
resentatives whom I have seen attacked by rowdy natives
(Crees) ‘out of pure cussedness,” though the Northern Indian
as a rule is a very timid creature.

1 Narrative of a Fourney to the Shore of the Arctic Sea, p. 173.

WINTER TRAVEL 107

Each evening the watchman’s whistle at the storehouse
called some member of the families of the two engaged serv-
ants, to receive the rations for the following day. These were
called their “pret,” and “ giving out pret” was the principal
event of the day. At some of the posts the servants are sum-
moned for rations by a bell or by a gong, but whatever the sig-
nal it is promptly obeyed. A laborer’s ration is four fresh fish
a day, or four pounds of half-dry, or three pounds of dried
caribou meat; one and one-half pounds of tea, and two pounds
of negro-head tobacco each month; forty pounds of white
pressed sugar, and one hundred pounds of flour each year. The
wife gets a half ration and a considerable quantity is usually
given for the maintenance of the family, which often contains

six or more children, averaging nearly twice the number which
the Indian family contains.

CHAPTER VII
THE MUSK-OX HUNT

OWARD the end of February the Indians gathered in bands
along the edge of the Barren Ground, where they killed
caribou in preparation for the musk-ox hunt. A considerable
portion of the Yellow Knife and Dog Rib tribes depend entirely
on the sale of musk-ox robes to obtain credit at the Company’s
stores, from which they must buy tea, tobacco, ammunition,
etc. Since they had given up the fall hunt, owing to the
severity of the season, it became the more necessary that they
should succeed in the spring. They were unwilling to run the
risk of admitting a white man to the great hunting ground,
which is peculiarly theirown. Although they looked upon any
white man not connected with the Company as lawful prey,
who was to pay exorbitant prices for their services, because“ he
is rich and we are poor,” their superstition was stronger than
their cupidity. Naohmby sent a message to the effect that I
might come to his camp if I wished. True, he had promised
to take me to the musk-ox, but he and his followers were starv-
ing and it was doubtful if they could kill any caribou for the
hunt. This was not encouraging, and as I knew that Naohmby
really followed the longest route to the Barren Ground, reach-
ing it at a point northeast of the Great Bear Lake, 1 gave up
the plan of accompanying him and determined to pounce upon
the first band of Dog Ribs which made its appearance at Rae.
On the 4th of March I told a party of four, who had cometo
the fort for ammunition for the hunt, that I was going with
them whether they wanted me to do so or not. With the aid
of the fort interpreter we discussed the matter until midnight.
Johnnie Cohoyla, a petty chief, was leader of the party. He
had been engaged by the Company in his younger days as a
boatman, when he had acquired a limited vocabulary of Red

108

Hodgson. Chilokwi. Andrew. Esyuh,
Johnnie Cohoyla.

HODGSON’S OUTFIT LEAVING RAE ON THE FOURTH OF MARCH, 1894.

THE MUSK-OX HUNT 109

River French. He finally consented to “look after me,” which
meant to look at me doing my own work, and to cook for me—
if I purchased meat for him and his family, which became sur-
prisingly large in a short time. In return I agreed to pay two
skins, or one dollar a day, and supply tea for our party during
the trip.

We started late on the sth for the Indian camps at the edge
of the timber. I was not in a cheerful mood as I hitched in
my dogs for the long journey which, the Dog Ribs emphatically
declared, would kill me, as they, accustomed to such a life,
“found it hard.” I would have to walk or run on snow-
shoes the entire distance, and not lie in a portable bed or cari-
ole as do most travelers in the interior of the Far North, while
some native driver attends to the team. I would not hear an
English word for two months, and the antagonism of the unwill-
ing Indians must prove a source of constant annoyance.

My outfit consisted of a 45-90 Winchester and ammunition,
fifteen pounds of dried caribou meat, eighteen pounds of frozen
bread, several pounds of tea, and a few ounces of salt. My
bedding consisted of a single four-point blanket sewed to a
light caribouskin robe.

Johnnie tried to “ plant” me on the hundred and fifty-mile
trip to the camps. He would have walked that distance in two
days, but his dogs were not equal to the task, and though they
were beaten until their heads were bruised and bleeding, they
could not reach our destination in less than three days. My
ankles troubled me with the torturing mal de racquette, which
made me very glad to see the dirty, smoke-begrimed lodges
with their swarm of dogs and half-naked children. The whole
camp was soon wrangling over my last pinch of salt. I was
dependent upon my rifle or the Indians for meat,! which with
tea made up the bill of fare for the next two months,

The Dog Ribs were not ready for the great musk-ox hunt.
They must first make new snow-shoes, sled lines, and mocca-
sins; caribou must be killed and pounded meat and grease pre-
pared.

We moved our camps twice during the next three weeks, and

1] experienced considerable difficulty in obtaining the names of those
who sold me meat. I had no goods with me, so that it was necessary to
keep an account’of all purchases. It was only by inquiring of others that
I could learn the name of the person concerned.

IIo EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

thus interrupted the drearily monotonous rub-dub of the noisy
drums, to the beating of which the men sat and gambled from
early morning until midnight. They were not willing to ven-
ture as yet upon the bleak desert of snow, known to them as
the Téch-in hoo-le—‘ No-wood” country. At last, however, it
was finally decided that we should start after the Easter festivi-
ties were concluded.

On Easter Sunday we all gathered at an early hour in the
chief’s lodge for prayers. The men,their hair and faces freshly
greased, were the first to arrive and took their places in a semi-
circle round the fire opposite the entrance. The women seated
themselves in a group near the door flap. “Jimmie the Chief”
occupied the post of honor at one side, on his right sat his wife,
beyond whom were the other women and thechildren. On his
left was Johnnie Cohoyla, the choir leader, and I the guest of
the band; next came the older men in order of rank. We all
sat crosslegged upon blankets, spread on the floor of spruce
boughs. The women brought the family tinware, a plate and
cup for each person, wrapped with the hymn books in a piece
of coffee sacking which afterward served as a table cloth.
Over the fire hung a ten-gallon kettle of boiling meat, while
beside it stood other copper kettles containing several gallons
of tea for the dinner, which always followed the Sunday serv-
ice. When the prayers were concluded, the chief’s son took
the meat from the kettle, giving the choicest pieces to the
leaders and the poorest to the women. We usually had a few
fresh caribou tongues each Sunday, but on this occasion there
was one for each person, and a ball of freshly made pemmican.
The meat was served in tin or birch pans; those portioning it
out took some time to make up their minds about where to put
certain pieces and changed them from one plate to another
several times. Grace was repeated in concert; then the chief
threw a tongue and a small ball of pemmican into the fire and
the feast began; as the meat was cut from the bones they were
cracked for the marrow.

Two hours later we had a second meal of boiled meat, and
as I had given them a little flour before leaving the post, a
kettle full of the much-prized vubaboo was also prepared. This
was made by cutting up a quantity of back-fat into small cubes
and boiling, stirring in flour to thicken it. After this was dis-

THE MUSK-OX HUNT IIL

posed of, the women returned to the other lodges—within a
few yards of each other—to dress skins and perform other dis-
agreeable labor that had been reserved for an occasion when
the lord and master was not at home. The men spent the
afternoon in singing hymns, translated into the Dog Rib tongue
by the missionaries, and in chanting the old songs of their own
composition.

On the evening of the 28th my dogs were not to be found
at feeding time. ‘“Ti-ka as mangeaient vos chiens, as’sotr,” said
Johnnie. “ Yaz-zi ti-kd thlo"” said the others. ‘The wolves
will eat your dogs to-night.” ‘Yes, the wolves are very nu-
merous.” Without the dogs I could do nothing; missing this
opportunity to secure musk-ox, I must remain another year in
the country or go back to Iowa without these, the most difficult
to obtain of American mammals. After a long search the next
morning, I found two of them feeding upon the remains of a
caribou six miles from camp, and by 3 P. M., just as I was con-
cluding arrangements to buy two miserable little giddés, the
other two dogs made their appearance. I felt that a year of my
life had been restored. An hour later we started on the grand
hunt, in which only the best men engaged; the women and
children, of course, remained at the camps in the woods. There
were eleven Indians in the party, with two lodges—Johnnie in
charge of mine with three other Indians.

We occupied the greater part of the second day in traversing
a long narrow lake called Tén-én-di-a Tooh. Inthe afternoon,
from the summit of a lofty granite hill, I beheld the Barren
Ground for the first time. Behind us lay the rugged hills, their
slopes clothed with stunted pines, upon which a bright sun was
shining; before us were hills still more precipitous and barren,
everywhere strewn with angular blocks of granite—a cold and
dreary waste from which a snowstorm was swiftly approach-
ing. Half-acre patches of pines, from one to three feet high,
still appeared for a few miles, but our lodge poles were cut
that day; these were trimmed down so slender that they would
afford little fuel for the return trip; each sled carried four
poles, fourteen feet in length. The country was so rough that
we only traveled thirty-five miles.

Before starting on the morning of the fourth day, the regular
Sunday service was performed, as it was, also, on the two fol-

112 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

lowing Sundays which we spent in the Barren Ground. Not-
withstanding the need of haste, and the discomfort of kneeling
for an hour, with only a blanket between their knees and the
naked rock upon which our lodge was always pitched, the
Indians repeated the appointed prayers in concert, and sang
two or three hymns responsively, under the leadership of
Johnnie Cohoyla. All remained kneeling with their faces
toward Rae throughout the service.!_ The service was marked
by a seriousness which I thought resulted more from a super-
stitious desire to propitiate the wrath of a savage storm god
than from a feeling of reverence toward a beneficent Creator.

We encamped that night ina little clump of pines on the
Coppermine River. The Dog Ribs called this stream Tson
Te. It takes its rise ina large lake, called Ek-a Tooh, which is
two days’ journey in length. This was the last outlier of the
timbered country and we must henceforth carry fuel on our
sleds. The largest of the trees reached a height of twenty-five
feet, with thick, twisted trunks. We left the Coppermine with
our sleds loaded as heavily as the dogs could haul with wood
which we had cut and splitinto billets of convenient size. What
a luxury a good oil stove would have been! As we were about
to start, Jimmie, who was leader of the band, and by far the
most intelligent man among them, after a long look eastward,
turned to me and said: “E-ye tét-tcin tau-ti, nit-zi nit-tca yaz-zi
éd-sa.” “This is the woodless country where the blizzards
blow and it is always cold.” Then drawing his old gray blanket
closer about him, and shouldering his double-barreled smooth-
bore encased in its greasy deerskin gun-coat, he set off at a
rapid pace, the seven trains falling into line upon the track of
his snow-shoes. We followed the course of a small stream
called Kwilond Te for about forty miles, until we reached a
lake at least thirty miles in length, called Yam-ba Tooh.

As we advanced on the seventh day, the hills became more
rolling, with gravel and pebbles, but fewer boulders. Wher-
ever the wind had swept the surface clear of snow the reindeer
moss, Cladonia rangiferina, and tufts of low grass appeared,
Toward evening we passed a few old musk-ox tracks.

1“ Les sauvages qui restent loin de l’église, se réunissent le dimanche
sur le mont voisin le plus élevé ils s’orientent le mieux possible, se tourn-

ent du cété ou ils savent qu’une église se trouve, el chantent des cantiques
ou récitent des priéres.” Farand, Dix-huit ans chez les Sauvages, p. 198.

THE MUSK-OX HUNT 113

On the ninth day we traversed the largest lake seen north of
the Great Slave Lake, which I think must be the Rum Lake of
Franklin; it was called Ko-a-ka-tcai-ti by my companions.
Away toward the northern end of the lake, four or five peaks
were visible; two of these were lofty cones, standing pure
white in their snow mantles; identical in size and shape, with
almost perpendicular sides.

We crossed two gravel ridges, trending southeast and north-
west, and again encountered the hills of naked granite, strewn
with great angular boulders, which necessitated constant watch-
fulness to prevent our sleds from being broken. These vehicles
were the common birch flat sleds of the north, fifteen inches in
width and seven feet in length. They soon became grooved
from end to end by the sharp points of rocks lying just below
the surface of the snow, which plowed across the bottom,
ordinarily as smooth as glass, and made the sled much harder
for the dogs to haul. Still Jimmie’s old gray blanket led the
way, straight over the hills, never swerving from a northeast
course. Sometimes we would ascend for an hour, and then
go pell-mell down a steep incline for two or three hundred
feet, holding back our sleds with all our strength, yet landing
in the drifts at the bottom, with the sled-dog dragging under
and the rest of the team tangled in the harness.

The caribou were now quite abundant, and we had little diffi-
culty in killing enough for men and teams. My dogs were keen
hunters and were always ready to dash after the herds of gray-
hued caribou, which swept over the snowy slopes like the shad-
ows of swift-flying clouds. The only way that I could restrain
them was to overturn the sled. In the evening, when they were
released from the harness, they would pursue any caribou which
might appear near our camp, which caused me considerable
anxiety, as the dismal howl of the never-distant wolves gave
warning of their certain fate if they left the camp. One of the
giddés was lost in this way.

On the tenth day Johnnie, with three other Indians and my-
self, separated from the others and turned a little more to the
northward. We were now in what the Dog Ribs designated
the Musk-ox Mountains. After running about ten miles, Esyuh,
who was in advance, suddenly turned and began to make
frantic gestures. Over the hills,a mile away, appeared a black

8

114 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

object closely followed by another and another. No need for
him to urge us to hasten forward, or to tell us what those huge
rolling balls were. ‘ Et-j’ir-rer! ta-i &t-jir-rer!””. Three musk-ox,
and a few seconds later the dogs were all released and scatter-
ing out over the country, some in pursuit, some on the back
track, and other trotting complacently along at their master’s
heels. They were not well-trained hunters; at sight of the
musk-ox even the threatening whip did not prevent them from
breaking into howls, and many of them were too spiritless to be
of any assistance in stopping the game. We followed as fast
as we could run. Then it was that I discovered the advan-
tage of having light clothing, light gun, and little ammunition.
The dogs soon overtook the clumsy musk-ox, which turned to
defend themselves as from a pack of wolves. They were not
held long at a time, but their flight was so hindered that they
were overtaken by my companions, who had distanced me,
after a run of three miles.

Our lodge was set up that night beside the fallen carcasses,
and our teams for once had all they could eat. There were
several hundred pounds of meat with fat two inches in thick-
ness on the backs, meat of excellent quality, without the faint-
est trace of musk perceptible. That from one of the animals
was tender and as well flavored as any venison that I ever ate.
The others were tough, but the Dog Ribs preferred tough meat
to walking a dozen yards to get that of a younger animal.
The complexion of our diet was now changed; before we had
enjoyed caribou ribs boiled, garnished with handfuls of coarse
gray hairs; now we had boiled ribs of musk-ox with hairs of a
brownish black.

I awakened next morning with a sense of weight upon my
blanket, and my ears were greeted with a rushing roar caused
by a northeast gale, which had covered everything inside our
lodge, to a depth of a foot or more, with fine flour-like snow.
It was impossible to face such a blizzard without freezing in a
few minutes. All landmarks were obscured, so that we could
not continue upon our course. As we had only wood enough
for the time that we expected to be engaged in actual travel,
we could have no fire on days like this, when we were com-
pelled to “lay to.” We remained in our blankets until midday,
whena kettle of meat was (half) boiled and we turned in again.

‘dNO0uUS NAMUVE NI ANIA TNOHIIM
“WHdd YL AHL SIdIL GHLI NI ATIHM GAWASSY AGCALILLIV JILSINALIVUVHD “MALINOAH AHL

‘SHIWOALSOD dId 00d

THE MUSK-OX HUNT 1I5

In the evening a fire about the size of a cigar-box was kept up
long enough to boil a kettle of tea, one cup for each man; we
always wanted four! No meat was cooked, for our appetites
were soon satisfied with the large sticks of white frozen marrow
from the long bones of the musk-ox.

We usually drank snow water, as soon as snow could be
melted, after the camp fire was started. Each individual car-
ried a tin plate on which a block of snow was placed and in-
clined toward the fire. As the lower side became saturated,
we drank the water as from a soggy snowball, and so avoided the
cinders and hairs which quickly covered everything about the
diminutive fire. Before leaving the woods we had melted snow
by fixing large blocks on the ends of poles before the long
camp fire; a steady stream soon trickled from the lower end
which was trimmed to a point by a few strokes of a knife.

Throughout the trip we washed our hands and faces daily by
melting water in tin plates and squirting it, 4 la Chinese laun-
dryman, upon our hands. The whole party possessed two
pieces of soap and one towel. A Dog Rib towel is never
washed, its owner’s face is often greased and the color of the
towel is affected accordingly.

Throughout the following day the storm continued with in-
creased severity, and we were forced to lie in the snow another
twenty-four hours.

My dogs never came inside the lodge at night, but coiled
themselves up in the lee of the lodge, where the snow soon
drifted over them, giving warmth and shelter. The twelve
Indian curs came inside as soon as the last man rolled up in his
blanket at night. At first they spent a few minutes fighting over
the bones about the fireplace, then they rummaged through
everything that was not firmly lashed down. As a dog walked
over a prostrate form the muffled “marche!” or “m’nitla!”
would quiet them for an instant, when their snarling and snap-
ping would break out anew, until some of us would pick up a
billet of wood and “pacify them.” After we had once fallen
into the sleep of exhaustion we were seldom awakened by their
fighting over us. In the morning I usually found two or three
giddés coiled up in the snow upon my blanket; the heat of their
bodies melted the snow, which froze as soon as they left it and
made my scanty bedding hard and stiff.

I16 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

After sixty hours of such resting we were quite ready to move
on, as the thirteenth day dawned bright and clear. Early in
the day we caught sight of a band of forty musk-ox already in
flight a couple of miles distant. We chased them six miles,
but only one of our party reached them, Wisho, who killed
four. We were very much fatigued from our long run, and cov-
ered with perspiration which froze on our outer garments, as
we walked back with the dogs to bring up the sleds. It was
after nightfall before we set up the lodge and cold, tired and
hungry, sat shivering around a column of smoke over which
hung a kettle containing both meat and drink; for our supply
of tea was exhausted and we had to quench our thirst with the
greasy bouillon or ‘‘tewoh” in which the meat was boiled.

The temperature was falling rapidly, giving us some concern
about Johnnie Cohoyla, who had not returned. The next morn-
ing I was awakened by the monotonous wailing of his brother,
Esyuh, who was chanting the virtues of the lost reprobate, and
entreating the fates in general, and the North Wind in particu-
lar, to spare him.

“Tin-néh hu-le”—‘“a man is lost!”

The Dog Ribs repeated the phrase with significant glances at
me, as if this “‘Mo-la” accompanying them had offended the
Great Spirit, so that he had wreaked his vengeance upon the
man who had allowed me to enter the Dog Rib hunting ground.
A terrific gale prevented us from searching for the lost man;
we could only spend the day in our blankets while the snow
drifted in and over all. That was one of the most miserable
days I ever spent. I had tried twice to run with the Indians,
and failed to reach the musk-ox, and there seemed to be no
immediate prospect of my getting any. The musk-ox were not
numerous they said, and our wood might fail before we secured
any more. Johnnie must have perished, as no human being
could live through a night of such storm without protection,
and it was thirty-six hours before we could search for him. We
were shivering in our blankets, even the Indians saying, “‘ Ed-sa,
yaz-zi ed-sa””—‘‘it is cold, very cold.”

The next morning proved to be calm, and we set off in search
of Johnnie. I had as great difficulty to keep my cheeks from
freezing as at any time during the winter, though there was
scarcely any wind blowing.

THE MUSK-OX HUNT 117

After running about ten miles, I was recalled by the signal-
ing of another searcher. Johnnie had been found by his
brother, safely and snugly rolled up in a couple of musk-ox
skins which he had secured, where he had been warmer than if
in the lodge, and with plenty of frozen marrow to eat he had
been quite comfortable.

On the sixteenth day we continued the journey northward.
With the field glass I discovered a band of fourteen musk-ox
on the summit of a high hill, so far away that it was impossible
to distinguish them from the surrounding boulders with the
unaided eye. Ina couple of hours we were within half a mile
of them, and released the dogs, which soon disappeared over
an intervening ridge. My companions had concluded, from
the way that I had run, or failed to run, on the two previous
occasions, that I could not run very far, and that their best plan
to keep me from bringing a magazine gun into competition with
their muzzle-loaders, was to give the musk-ox time to get far
enough away so that they could “plant” me in the race. I had
prepared for this occasion by taking off some of my clothing,
and only carrying the ammunition actually required, so that
when they did begin to run at a swift pace my snow-shoes
clanked close beside them.

We soon came upon eleven of the musk-ox standing at bay
in two little clusters, hardly lowering their heads at the dogs,
whose ardor had been cooled by the statue-like immobility of
the noble animals. Their robes were in prime condition, the
long hair and heavy erect mane gave them an imposing appear-
ance. To kill them was simple butchery, yet I had no choice
but to fire as rapidly as possible and get my share of them, as
they were all doomed anyway.

On leaving Rae, Johnnie had agreed to assist me in skinning
the game killed; he now found that his own affairs would require
all his attention. Esyuh helped me to skin two, while I finished
the third by moonlight, freezing my fingers in the operation.
He afterward demanded seventy skins, thirty-five dollars—for
his labor.

It was impossible to skin the heads in the darkness. I
wrapped the skins around them so that they would not freeze
during the night. Another blizzard was raging in the morning,
which prevented moving, but enabled me to attend to the

118 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

heads, which had not frozen very much; but the skins around
them were stiff and solid,so that it was impossible to fold them
up for transportation.

I spent the day sawing the skulls in halves, so that they might
be loaded on the sled, sitting beside a little smoke arising from
the bones of the musk-ox which contained enough grease to
burn, though not very readily. Our fires were started with
birch bark, a small roll being carried by each man for that pur-
pose. The pine wood was cut in sticks a foot in length and
finely split, then built up in a ‘log cabin” oracone. Each man
took his turn blowing to keep it alight, as the wood was not dry
and the quantity so small that it required constant attention.

We were destined to spend the next day in the blankets, with
the clouds of powdery snow settling down through the smoke-
hole of our lodge upon us. We had had but two meals a day
since leaving the Coppermine, and when lying storm bound we
ate but one. When traveling, although we were voraciously
hungry before nightfall, it was thirst which troubled us the
most, as we were running most of the time.

Early on the nineteenth day we sighted musk-ox while yet a
long distance from them. While ascending a steep hill I was
delayed by my sled sinking in the soft snow until the great
awkward balls into which the skins were frozen, projecting at
the sides, made the load drag heavily. When I reached the top
the others were a quarter of a mile in advance, and instead of
waiting for me to come up, they had released their dogs and
were likely to kill every musk-ox before I could reach them.
Johnnie, remembering the havoc which my Winchester was
liable to make in his fur returns, thought best to “suspend the
rules” of the hunting code, and let me buy of them if I wanted
any musk-ox. Without releasing my dogs, which were wildly
tugging at their collars, I started forward with little hopes of
killing any musk-ox, but in excellent humor for slaughtering a
few Dog Ribs. Fortune,however,smiled upon me. Four bulls
of the largest size broke away together, without a dog in pur-
suit, and came within range. This was not so much like butch-
ering them; they were running much faster than I could on
snow-shoes and had a chance for their lives. I killed two as
they passed me about a hundred yards distant, and wounded the
others so that they were bagged after a run of half a mile. I

THE MUSK-OX HUNT IIg

had now killed seven musk-ox, and already had as many on
my sled as the Hudson’s Bay people had told me it was possi-
ble to haul. When Johnnie returned from chasing the scat-
tered herd, I stated my plain and unbiassed opinion of him in
all the Red River French and Dog Rib that I could command.
His deprecatory “yaz-zi” changed to a sheepish ‘ne-zi”—good
—when I informed him that I had secured all the robes that
I wanted. He refused to carry a skeleton for me at any price,
not even a head or half a split skull would he carry, though
I gave him two robes for carrying back the lodge.

The next day was spent in camp; the others were engaged in
skinning the animals killed, and in boiling bones for grease to
eat onthe returntrip. I thus had an opportunity to prepare the
two skulls for transportation.

On the twenty-first day of the hunt we started homeward—
the turning point of the expedition. We were all heavily
loaded with the loose, bulky skins. The sleds were frequently
overturned, and if our dogs had not been in unusually good con-
dition would never have been brought out at all. My load
extended over both ends of the sled, and was nearly as high as
my shoulders. With the four lodge-poles on the top, it was
no easy matter to keep everything lashed firmly.

On the twenty-third day a blinding snowstorm prevented
moving before midday, when we pushed on through the soft
snow without meat for ourselves or the dogs. On the return
trip we only secured five caribou, which was less than half
rations for five men and sixteen dogs.

We were now burning our lodge-poles for fuel; on the night
of the twenty-fifth day the lodge was set up for the last time,
with two poles only, and with our sled lines, made fast to the
circle of sleds, which were always enclosed, gave sufficient sup-
port. We started at 6 a.M., determined to reach the Copper-
mine, some fifty miles distant, before camping. In the after-
noon we came upon a lodge-pole, standing beside a sled track
which we had followed all day, upon which a line written in the
syllabic characters informed us that Jimmie’s party was to
reach the woods that evening also.

At half past ten, after sixteen and a half hours of continuous
traveling, we reached the little grove of pines, which seemed
more welcome than any harbor to the storm-tossed sailor. We

120 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

were all too much fatigued to cut much brush, and fell asleep
in a little hole scooped in the snow, before a few logs which
made such an uncomfortably hot fire that we did not enjoy it
as we had anticipated. But we would no longer have to sleep
upon snow or flat rocks, we would not have to sleep with our
moccasins and frozen blanket footings next our bodies to dry
them, and at noonday we could have tewoh to quench our thirst.

After five hours’ rest we were awakened by Jimmie, who
reminded us that there was nothing to eat, and that we must
push rapidly on. My load weighed over five hundred pounds,
and the dogs were getting pitifully weak. I pushed on the
sled and carried a load on my back to assist them. We were
three days in reaching the camps. We only rested five hours
at night and then hurried on again, as the teams were failing
rapidly for want of food. On the twenty-eighth day the first
signs of a thaw appeared; the snow softened just enough to
cause it to stick to our snow-shoes, so that it made them heavy
to carry, and, worse still, lumps of ice would accumulate every
few minutes which soon blistered the bottoms of our feet over
the entire surface.

On the last two days before reaching the camps the heavy

-snow-shoes caused the mal de racquette to reappear, which made
it simply torture to move; yet we were now in the woods,
where the soft snow required heavier work in the management
of the sleds.

At two in the afternoon of the twenty-ninth day we reached
the vicinity of the camping place from which we had started,
and fired several rounds to announce our arrival.1 A few
minutes later we dashed into—a deserted camp. The lodges
were gone, the snow had drifted over their sites. Their skele-
ton poles offered a dreary welcome to us as, tired, hungry, and
disappointed, we turned away in no pleasant humor to follow
the track along which a line of slanting poles indicated the
direction of departure. We were upon an old, hard track from
which the sled frequently overturned into the soft snow on

1 The Indians about the Great Slave Lake still follow the custom of fir-
ing their guns atthe time of arrival at, or at departure from, the trading sta-
tions, or their own larger camps as in this instance. I witnessed this cere-
mony several times at both Rae and Resolution. Compare Mackenzie,

“We were saluted at our departure with some vollies of small arms, which
wereturned.” Sournal, p, 18.

THE MUSK-OX HUNT I21I

either side, and my dogs were about giving up altogether. A
great deal more powder was burned as we approached the
camps, three hours later. As I passed one of the first lodges
my sled swayed off the track and caught against a tree, much
to the amusement of a’ couple of young women who, after
watching my attempts to right it, remarked, ‘“ Yaz-zi Mo-la
nat-stth-li’”—“ the white man is weak, indeed.” One of them
grasped the sled line to show me how to straighten up a load,
and tugged and hauled and tugged again without producing
the slightest effect. J am afraid that I laughed very ungal-
lantlyas the discomfited maiden fled to the shelter of the lodge.
Mrs. Jimmie came to me with a very cordial greeting, exclaim-
ing, ‘‘Merci! Merci—tco! Ne-zi ét-jir-rér-ka!’”—‘ Thanks, big
thanks, for the good musk-ox hunt!” evidently ascribing our
success, in a measure, to my presence. We had been absent
twenty-eight days from the camps, twenty-two of which were
spent beyond the Coppermine River.

There was very little meat in the lodges and the caribou
were moving out into the Barren Ground, so that the Indians
must lead a more than usually precarious existence for the
next two months until they could follow the caribou by water.
For three days they were quite content to lie about the camp,
feasting upon the store which still remained of dried meat and
grease. They would not sell me any of this, though I needed a
supply very much for my journey down the Mackenzie.

I had left a small bag of articles in Johnnie’s lodge, during
the hunt, which they had opened and discovered that it con-
tained a few ounces of compressed tea that I had reserved for
the trip to Rae. They did not appropriate the tea, but the
next day after our return they began to clamor for it to make
tea for a Sunday feast. I knew that they had several pounds
of tea, and I had no intention of throwing away the only com-
fort possible on what I knew would be a trying journey. First
Johnnie, and then then the whole band, came to me with smiles,
whines, and finally threats. Johnnie boiled a large kettle of
water and placed it before me with an insolent demand for
“lee tea.” I-could contain myself no longer. I felt dependent
on them to guide me to the post, which it was utterly impos-
sible for me to reach, through two hundred miles of trackless
forest with my load of musk-ox, without their assistance; but

— EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

three days of nagging, culminating in that defiant act, finally
overcame my power of self-restraint and I turned loose my wrath
upon Mr. Cohoyla with a vehemence which seemed to have a
salutary effect. I believe that I grew rather eloquent in the
jargon of Dog Rib and Red River French which I employed,
pieced out with gestures and emphatic, though to them unin-
telligible, English.

On the thirtieth day of April, 1 started for Rae accompanied
by three Indians with two empty sleds, on which they refused
to haul any of my load, though I offered to pay them well;
they were still sulky about the tea. Johnnie came to me be-
fore I started with a long list of the goods from the store that
he wished as a reward for his fidelity! Jimmie invited me toa
dinner of tongues and pemmican and seemed anxious to atone
for the insolence of the others. I could understand him much
better when conversing, with the few words of his language
which I had acquired, assisted by gestures, than I could Johnnie
with the aid of his French.

We followed the course of the Jackfish River toward the
southwest, crossing short portages from lake to lake. The
descent at the portages was abrupt and of considerable extent;
we must have been many hundred feet above the Great Slave
Lake when we started. The abundance of stumps at the camp-
ing places showed that we were following one of the great
highways, which is used in both summer and winter in traveling
to and from the Barren Ground.

I had nothing but dried meat to eat or to feed my dogs. I
was truly ashamed to offer that leathery “scrap” to my team
which was straining to the utmost limit of its strength. Though
they could gulp down a three-pound frozen fish in a few seconds,
my dogs could scarcely eat the dried meat which I cut in small
pieces for them.

On the fourth day it became much warmer and the crust
frequently gave way beneath the dogs, the sled, and my own
snow-shoes. The sled sometimes rolled over in the soft snow
a dozen times in traveling a hundred yards. Strange to say,
the mal de vacquette, which had made me miserable for the pre-
ceding week, left me that morning or I should not have been
able to travel all. The Indians urged me to employ their
remedy for this painful malady, which I did to please them.

THE MUSK-OX HUNT 123

They held a split stick over the affected ankle while a second
stick was turned through one revolution, tightly squeezed in the
split. They insisted that I should do this for myself which
seemed to afford them great satisfaction, especially as the pain
left me soon afterward.

On the fifth day we traveled eighteen hours and reached Rae
after one of the hardest day’s travel of the whole trip. The
snow was rapidly melting, enabling us to find drinking water on
the ice beneath the snow crust, through which we frequently
broke with our snow-shoes.

As my weary dogs crept over the hill into Rae and dragged
the load of five complete skins and heads of musk-ox in front
of the door which they had left two months before, they sank
down utterly worn out. I lifted them out of the harness and
prepared my evening meal with slowand exhausted movements,
but sustained by a devout feeling of thankfulness that the jour-
ney had been successful.

I had worn goggles constantly to avoid snow-blindness,
which causes great suffering among those natives who are not
so fortunate as to have protection of some sort for their eyes.
Wooden protectors, such as are used by the Eskimos, are un-
known by the Dog Ribs. Goggles of smoked, blue, or green
glass are in demand, though enough for all have never been
brought in by the traders. The smoked glass is the best. Veil-
ing is used when glasses are not to be had. I never heard of
a Dog Rib blackening his face to prevent snow-blindness.
While in the Winnipeg region I saw a pair of “horsehair gog-
gles,” which were superior to any other protectors for the eyes
that I ever met with. They were made entirely of hair, woven
in a loose mesh, convex over the eyes. I should advise any-
one intending to travel in the North to provide himself with
them, in preference to glass which is coated with frost at every
change of temperature, is always cold to the face and liable to
be broken.

From the experience gained during that eight hundred-mile
trip, and from conversation with Mr. Mackinlay, at Resolution,
I am satisfied that Resolution is a much better post from which
to hunt musk-ox than Rae. The Dog Ribs now trade at both
stations, and Beniah, one of the most enterprising of that tribe,
for the last five years has killed musk-ox within two days’

124 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

travel of the woods at the east end of the lake, beyond the ter-
ritory occupied by the Yellow Knives.! The distance to be
traveled from Rae becomes greater each year, and the post
itself is not now so well supplied with provisions or with goods
with which to hire native assistants.

My advice to sportsmen is to keep out of the musk-ox
country, if life and health are valued. Tobe sure there is a sat-
isfaction in overcoming the obstacles which must be encoun-
tered before the musk-ox are reached, but at the end, when you
are within rifle-shot of the long-sought game, you find after all
that it is a cruel butchery; you do not feel the triumphant
exhilaration which results from successfully pursuing the noble
moose or elk; in fact you can duplicate the sensation felt on
such an occasion, at far less expense and less hardship, by hir-
ing a pack of hungry curs for an afternoon, and turning them
into your neighbor’s sheep pasture. When they have rounded
up the flock, you can take your stand at a safe distance and
shoot down the sheep! The musk-ox is not a“ sporty” animal.

During my absence the incoming packet had arrived, with but
one letter for me. Fortunately this one was from Professor
Nutting, who approved of a plan which I had formed for the
summer’s campaign and sent out by the December mails.

I had intended to remain another winter in the country if I
failed to get the musk-ox, and then to return by the route trav-
ersed in going North. As the hunt had been successful I was
ready to return, after I had employed my time to the best
advantage, in collecting ornithological specimens during the
short summer.

Mr. Hodgson gave such glowing accounts of the abundance
of game, birds, and other desirable specimens near the Arctic
coast that I wished to visit the region even though I would not
have time to make a large collection.

1 Compare Pike, Barren Ground, p.274, who wrote before Beniah entered
this new territory. “Iam not quite sure that Fort Resolution is the best
point to start from. Fort Rae, on the north arm of the Great Slave Lake,
lies nearer the Barren Ground, and the Dog Ribs are said to be more

amenable to reason than the Yellow Knives, while the distance to travel
through a woodless country is shorter.”

CHAPTER VIII
DOWN THE MACKENZIE

A FEw travelers have descended the Mackenzie to McPher-
son, crossed the mountains by the Hudson’s Bay Company’s
trail to Fort Yukon, and then descended the Yukon River to
St. Michaels. No one had ever descended the Mackenzie to its
mouth, and succeeded in reaching civilization around Alaska.
I learned that American whalers were wintering at Herschel
Island, near the mouth of the Mackenzie, and that some of the
vessels would return to San Francisco at the end of the season.
I could not profitably occupy the summer at Rae, nor would I
have time to descend the Mackenzie and return home by open
water over the same route. It seemed possible to reach the
whalers and accompany them to San Francisco. The time and
money needed would be about equal to that spent in returning
by way of Edmonton, but I would have the advantage of explor-
ing two thousand miles of new territory, which decided me to
make the attempt.

The “Wrigley” is hauled ashore for the winter near Provi-
dence whence she leaves, as soon as the river opens, for Good
Hope. If I could reach Providence before the steamer was
launched and started on her northward trip, I could save a
month’s time in’descending the river, and might reach Herschel
Island before the whalers left their winter quarters.

It was reported that a whaleboat would be sent up to Mc-
Pherson to engage Indians for the summer’s whaling. If Idid
did not meet this it was very uncertain whether or not I could
hire Indians to accompany me from the last Hudson’s Bay
Company’s post to the island. The musk-ox skins would
require daily attention in drying for several weeks, but Mr.
Hodgson volunteered to care for them until they could be sent
out by the “Wrigley,” two months later. Under his direction

125

126 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

they were dried and carefully packed. He had secured a year’s
furlough and was “ going out to Red River,” so that he accompa-
nied the collection as far as Edmonton. He also packedsome
specimens which I had left at Smith, and looked after the cases,
while ascending the Athabasca, where accidents frequently
occur in the rapids. With the collection off my hands, I felt
free to make the attempt to reach the whalers, and if I failed
and had to spend the next winter snow-shoeing my way to Ed-
monton,I could stop at Fort Smith and try again for buffaloes.

During the five days which I spent at the post, I was busily
occupied in caring for the large skins, and in packing the
remainder of the collection. It was too late in the season to
travel over the portage trail to Providence, which I had fol-
lowed in the autumn, as the snow was rapidly melting in the
bush. I intended, therefore, to follow the lake shore to the
Big Island fishery and there to hire a canoe of the métis or
Indians in which to descend the Mackenzie to Providence, forty
miles below the island. I was assured that the river would be
breaking up, but that I need not be delayed, as there would
certainly bea number of canoes at Big Island and I need antici-
pate no difficulty in engaging one of them with men to paddle it.

To avoid the expense of an extra train and two men, I trav-
eled alone. I left the post late on the roth of May, with a
heavy load, which included fish for the dogs for five nights, as
I expected to reach Big Island in six days.

After two hours’ traveling, the snow had thawed so that the
dogs could not haul at all, and I was forced to lie by until a
crust had formed in the evening, when IJ pushed on all night.

On the 11th I heard the ducks and geese in the small lakes
near Trout Rock, where a little open water covered the ice. 1
camped at 9 A. M. on the 11th, and set out in the evening at 7,
though the snow was still soft. I soon encountered a large
crack which I followed for several miles before I found a safe
crossing place. The sun remained below the horizon about six
hours, a part of which time it was rather dark to find my way
over an unknown and trackless route.

Hauling dogs, however well trained they may be, are accus-
tomed to follow either a beaten track or a man running before
them. A team, driven alone, that seems to be exhausted and
which the severest whipping will not force any farther, will

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 1297

start off at a brisk trot and strain at their collars to keep up if
someone runs before. I had to direct mine with the whip and
voice alone. They were too heavily loaded to keep moving if
I went before them.

In starting out in the evening, I had to wade through a broad
strip of slush, lying just outside the heavy shore drifts. The
water passed through my moccasins as easily as through a blot-
ter; these and the thick foot wrappings soon froze stiff, as it
became colder, making them heavy and anything but warm. I
broke through the crust into the water standing on the ice too
often to keep them dry by changing. I found it necessary to
wear more on my feet than in midwinter to avoid blistering
them. The snow-shoes were kept continually wet and wore
rapidly away upon the sharp needles of the crust, so that I had
to renew the foot-lacing daily. On the 12th I camped upon a
little patch of bare sand, the first camp not made in the snow
since November. That day the ring-billed gulls were seen,
though there was as yet no open water except upon the surface
of the ice.

I lost some time at the Big Slavey Point, in skirting two deep
bays, looking for a passage behind the little group of four
islands, which I found later to he so far off shore that no mis-
take need have been made.

On the 14th a dense fog compelled me to follow the shore of
the broad bay west of the point, where I could have saved sev-
eral miles by a traverse.

During the night of the 15th a rain fell which prevented the
formation of a crust and made the traveling very slow and
fatiguing. I.fed the dogs the last fish that night, and, instead
of sleeping next day, pushed on until after midnight in the
hope of reaching the Big Island fishery. I started in the even-
ing across a traverse, of perhaps ten miles, to the outlet of the
lake where the dark line of trees was barely visible on the
shores of the bay, which I was crossing, lay below the northern
horizon. There were no landmarks whatever to guide me to
the fishery, and, to add to the difficulty, the low strip of timber
became distorted by mirage until it seemed to be a chain of
distant mountains, then three lines of coast appeared one above
another. These merged into one again, still slowly shifting
until obscured by the darkness. The point which I had left

128 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

soon began to dance in an uncanny fashion, so that I had to
direct my course by the stars. The snow was deep and soft
and the dogs were nearly worn out, so that it was very late
when I approached the shore closely enough to see the dark
looming of spruce trees a few hundred yards in advance. A
large crack, with open water extending across my course.
caused delay; after passing this on a frail bridge, I encountered
ice which had several inches of water standing upon it. There
was just light enough to enable me to distinguish here and
there a black hole in which there appeared to be no bottom.
I had been warned to look for rotten ice at the head of the
river, and as the black patches appeared to be larger and closer
together as I advanced, I was compelled to turn back and wait
until daylight. Dragging the sled back to solid ice, I laid down
upon it and slept for three hours. When I awoke the sun was
shining upon my face and I could realize the danger which
I had been in. I had gone a half mile too far to the northward.
The ice was full of holes and I could not get ashore without
wading and picking my way very carefully. As I ascended
the bank I noticed a few sticks standing in circles here and
there in the river ice, and the ridges, which had once been fur-
rows made by the sleds passing to and from the nets, showed
that someone had wintered near by. A few wooden crosses,
enclosed by a dilapidated picket fence, stood at the entrance of
the river. The timber had evidently been cleared away, and the
graves and fish stages indicated the proximity of a settlement,
still no dogs greeted my approach; the waterfowl were making
discordant outcries from every pool, as if the place were de-
serted, and so it proved to be when, a minute later, I came in
sight of two cabins surrounded by such extensive staging as to
leave no doubt but that they were the property of the Com-
pany.

Releasing the dogs from the harness, I spread the contents
of the sled upon the staging to dry, and, after drinking a cup
of tea, turned in to get some much-needed rest. The next
day I heard the occasional report of fire arms across the river,
but searched in vain for Indians.

This delay was very annoying, the condition of the river ice
was growing rapidly worse, so that I could not travel far on it;
if I left my outfit it would prevent my traveling with the

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 129

steamer. I harnessed the team that afternoon, scarcely hoping
that they could haul. They had not been able to ascend the
bank the day before and had had nothing to eat for three days,
during which they had been almost continuously in harness.
Much to my surprise they moved off on the ice at a fair pace.
The river was flowing in an open channel along the shore, but
the greater portion of the ice had not yet broken up, though it
was in a very unsafe condition. After traveling about eight
miles I reached the lower end of Big Island, but the only land
which I could reach with my load was a small island below,
which was covered with willows and poplars. I spent the night
there and as I could not proceed further with the sled I cached
it upon a scaffold.

I was depending upon ducks and grouse for food. I had
left Rae with a few pounds of bread and dried meat, beside
seven candles of deer’s tallow which proved to be a very ac-
ceptable addition to the dry meat.

I started next morning toward Providence, carrying a blanket
and shot gun,intending to send for the sled as soon as the river
opened. After traveling a few miles ] meta party of Slavey
Indians, who were coming up the river with two sleds, having
high runners, made especially for use on overflowed ice. They
were the filthiest and most degraded looking Indians that I met
in the North. They knew no English, but seemed to under-
stand the few words of the Dog Rib dialect which I could com-
mand. They directed me to Jackfish Point, a short distance
below, from which they had just come, where a small band of
Slaveys were encamped. Asusual,they asked for tobacco, and
as usual, they thought my tongue was crooked when I told
them that I had none, as no Indian would believe, so universal
is the habit, that a man did not smoke, especially a master able
to carry such weapons as I possessed, and to drive good dogs.
I should like to know whether it was a kindly feeling which
prompted one of them to call to me to wait, after they had gone
some distance, while he brought mea piece of dried meat,
which he might have thought that I needed; or whether his
generosity was due toa last attempt to get the coveted tobacco.
At any rate I gave him some shotand divided the meat among
my dogs.

At the low marshy point I found an open channel two to

9

130 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

three feet in depth anda hundred yards in width. I waded
ashore and searched for the camps, which were of such a
material and so well hidden by the willows that I might easily
have passed without discovering them.

Instead of the well-made caribouskin lodges of the Dog Ribs,
they had nothing but rude enclosures covered with grass and
reeds. Two families had smaller canvas tents, adjoining their
lodges, which afforded them shelter from the rain.

They were surprised to see a white man traveling alone and
soon gathered in the chief’s lodge to drink tea. They under-
stood neither French nor English, and we talked and gesticulated
for two hours before they seemed to understand that I desired
their assistance. They said that the ice was unsafe, the open
water did not extend to the post, and to travel through the
bush was impossible. They were living on jackfish, which they
killed with sharpened poles. I fed the dogs several fish, but
found to my surprise that they would not eat more than one
fresh jackfish each. After my fourth meal of boiled jackfish, |
without salt, I, also, had little appetite for them. The next
morning I told the Indians that I was going to the post over
the ice, and that I would give them no more tea; this decided
the matter and two of them volunteered to accompany me.
We brought the sled to the camp, loaded everything but the
dogs in a canoe and pushed off.

My dogs were to be fed and brought down to Providence as
soon as the river opened. It was not without regret that I
parted from that faithful team, which had hauled from the time
when the first snow fell until after the last bank had disap-
peared on the land. They had traveled over twenty-two hun-
dred miles, through trackless bush and dismal barrens. With
aching limbs and bleeding feet they had toiled on, their only
reward being the half-putrid fish of which I was often unable to
give them a full ration. Manya time they had been beaten into
the snow when exhausted andhungry. Many a time they had
been harnessed in the morning, too weak and stiff to start the
heavy load, only answering the cutting whip with their piteous
whine. Nudjuk, Treff, Major, and Corbeau, we have hunted,
eaten, and slept together for the last time.

We camped that night upon a gravel bar across which the
geese and ducks were continually passing, so that we easily
killed enough for our use.

SLAVEY TIPIS AT SIMPSON

SLAVEY INDIANS CARRYING OUTFIT TO PROVIDENCE

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 131

Twelve miles above Providence the narrow channel which
we were following terminated in an ice jam. We again cached
the load, and continued on foot, reaching the post on the even-
ing of the eleventh day after leaving Rae. I paid the men well
for their work and gave them several skins of ammunition be-
sides, which did not deter them from stealing all the powder
from the cache when they returned to their camp.

On the 2oth the ice had not yet broken up, and a letter from
Willow River informed us that the steamer would leave on June
2nd, if the ice permitted. I hired two men to pack down my
outfit, and accompanied them to the cache that evening. By
carrying a heavy load myself we were able to bring everything
except the sled and harness, for which I had no further use.
That evening, while Mr. Scott was paying the men in the store,
some of their friends, taking advantage of the absence of every-
one from the kitchen, stole the fish and potatoes that were
standing, cooked for our dinner, upon the stove.

Providence, or as it is usually called, “The Rapids,” stands
upon the north bank of the Mackenzie, forty miles below the
Great Slave Lake and twenty above the Little Lake. There is
a strong current in the channel before the post, but the steamer
ascends it without difficulty. Providence was originally built
on Marten Lake, then near Yellow Knife Bay, then removed
to Big Island, and later to its present site.

There is a small clearing, in which both the Company and
the Roman Catholic mission raise barley and vegetables. The
grasshoppers have made their appearance about every third
year and have been more destructive to the crops than the
frosts. At most of the Company’s stations a few bushels of
potatoes and other vegetables have been raised each year.
Cattle have been kept for years at every post, until orders
came in 1893 to kill them, as the expense of keeping them was
too great. Sufficient hay was easily obtainable, but not of good
quality. No hay had been provided for a cow which was
brought to Rae, late in the fall of 1856,s0 that she was fed
upon dried fish through the winter. Poultry has been kept
at Providence for several years. It is also fed upon dried fish,
which is preferred to barley.

On the 2nd of June I made preparations for an early start
for the steamer, to which an Indian was to take me ina birch

132 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

canoe. As the river was full of floating ice we were to follow
the slough,” a channel with little current, which cuts off a
large island just below the post. We found the slough covered
with young ice which had formed during the night, and had to
wait two hours for the morning sun to melt it. We reached
the “Wrigley” at 2 Pp. M., and a half hour later we were steam-
ing down the river. The ice was running in a heavy pack before
us so that we ran at half speed, and even came to anchor twice
to allow the swift current to clear the ice away.

We reached Simpson on the 5th. This, the largest establish-
ment in the north, is situated at the mouth of the Liard River.
It is the central post of the Mackenzie District, to which the
goods were brought in former times to be distributed to the
various stations between Nelson and the Yukon. The depots
are now little used. An upper floor of one of the buildings is
occupied by the museum, which contains a few geological and
ethnological specimens, and a number of birds and mammals
which have been mounted by Captain Bell. The collection
makes a creditable showing of the fauna of that region and
deserves better quarters, free from dust and museum pests.

The “Mackenzie River Library” contained several hundred
volumes, nearly all of which had been carried over miles of por-
tages on men’s backs, by way of the long boat route to York Fac-
tory. I there read, for the first time, the account of the Journey
to a Northern Ocean in 1771, by that excellent observer, Samuel
Hearne. I had just visited the territory which he has so quaintly
described, and was in a position to appreciate the accurate and
truthful account which he has given of the‘‘ Northern Indians.”

We continued our journey upon the Ioth of June. Seventy
miles below Simpson we passed the Nahanni River which enters
from the west. The Nahanni Mountains, a spur of the Rockies,
rising to a height of three thousand feet, here deflect the Mac-
kenzie toward the north. Fifty miles below, the river breaks
through this range, which extends several hundred miles farther
to the northward. The higher elevations were covered with
snow, though it all disappeared during the summer.

We stopped for wood, at a high bank just above Norman,
where extensive beds of lignite were burning. A recently caved
portion exposed a section of lignite eight feet in thickness.!

1W.F. Wentzel, an officer of the Northwest Company, wrote in 1807:

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 133

I found the bed of edible clay, mentioned by Richardson,}
near the base of the cliff. It is used for whitewashing at Nor-
man, and is said to have been used as a substitute for soap by the
Indians before the introduction of that article by the traders.?

Norman stands at the mouth of the Bear River near the Bear
Rock, a solitary butte over four thousand feet in height.
Below Norman the banks of the river were lined with mud-
covered floes of rapidly melting ice, which had been deposited
fifty feet above the ordinary level of the river, owing to an ice
jam which had formed at the Ramparts, just south of Good
Hope. Atthat point the river contracts to a width of less than
a quarter of a mile and flows between vertical limestone cliffs,
two hundred feet in height; the narrowness of the stream, and
the sharp angle which it makes in its course, causes the ice to
gorge on a tremendous scale at the time of its disruption in the
spring.

We anchored before Good Hope at 11 Pp. M., June 12th. Mr.
C. P. Gaudette, a veteran who had been over forty years in the
Company’s service, was in charge of the post. With his kind
assistance, I engaged an Indian to take me back in a canoe to
the Ramparts, the following day. Fossils were abundant in the
cliffs, but neither time nor transportation facilities permitted
making as large a collection as I could have wished.

“As to volcanoes, there are some along the north side of the Grand River
[Mackenzie], at a little distance this side of Bear Lake River and which are
visible from this river. From these, issue several columns of smoke which
have a strong smell of coal and sulpher. I was told by Mr. John Thain,
one who had personally inspected them, that the fire was not above a foot
under ground; the flames are pale and the smoke black; the holes from
which the blazes appear, are small and numerous. No irruptions, such as
are experienced in the Eastern hemisphere, ever occurred here to the
knowledge of the Indians.” Masson, L. R., Les Bourgeois, Vol. I, p. 79.
Lignite was burning for several miles on either side of the Mackenzie,
above Bear Lake River, in 1836. Simpson, Thomas, Warrative, p. 97.

1“A pipe-clay is very generally associated with the coal beds, and is fre-
quently found in contact with the lignite. It exists in beds varying in
thickness from six inches to a foot, and is generally of a yellowish-white
color, but in some places has alight lake-red tint. It is smooth, without
grittiness, and when masticated has a flavor somewhat like the kernel of a
hazel-nut. * * The natives eat this earth in times of scarcity,and suppose
that thereby they prolong their lives.” Arctic Searching Expedition, p. 118.

*Ibid, p. 119.

134 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The “Wrigley” started up the river that afternoon on her first
trip of the season to Fort Smith. The furs at all the posts above
Good Hope, except Rae, are collected on this trip. On her
return the steamer goes directly down to the only post north
of Good Hope,—McPherson.! On her third northward trip the
“Wrigley” goes only to Simpson, and then returns to Willow
River to be hauled out for the winter. Thereis but one post in
the Mackenzie District—Fort Liard—which the steamer does
not reach.

It was two hundred and seventy-five miles to McPherson, to
which I had now to make my way as quickly as possible. I had
no definite information concerning the date at which the whale-
boat from Herschel Island might be expected at McPherson,
and feared that if I arrived too late to accompany it that I
would be unable to reach the island alone. I therefore spent
no time in zodlogical explorations in that very interesting
region, but set off again, the next morning, alone, in a small
birch canoe. There were a few pieces to be sent down to Mc-
Pherson, but the skiff which carried them was too heavily loaded
to admit a passenger. The skiff would drift at night while I,
not being able to sleep in the canoe, would have to camp on
shore; this would prevent me from traveling in company with
it, and constant association with the Indians for the past two
months had not developed such a fondness for their society that
I desired to have Indian guides if I could possibly travel alone.

I filled every inch of space in the canoe with a hundred and
eighty pounds of baggage and left the remainder to be brought
in the skiff, which I was assured would soon pass me. I started
late on the morning of the 14th of June, a memorable date, as
I crossed the arctic circle that afternoon and felt that I was
really in the Worth.

The strong current of the majestic river aided me very much,
even down the Grand View, which I passed the next morning,
where the banks are from two to three miles apart and the river
without a bend for miles, the current was still strong. I crossed
to the left bank that afternoon to avoid a group of Indian
cabins called “Chicago” by the officers of the “ Wrigley.”

1Called Peel River by the Company; the original name of McPherson is
preferable, as it is not then confused with the Peel River on whose banks
the station is situated.

MC’PHERSON,

LOUCHEUX SUMMER SHELTER.

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 135

I camped the second night on a narrow ledge at the foot of
a bank, three hundred feet in height, opposite the site of the
original Fort Good Hope.!

On the third day, I was delayed by a head wind so that I
only traveled fifty miles though I continued until midnight. I
was then in the Land of the Midnight Sun which enabled me to
travel at any time. Isoon became accustomed to the continu-
ous sunshine and came to prefer it to the usual alternation of
daylight and darkness. To save time, I ate my meals while
drifting and spent very little time ashore.

I passed several camps of Loucheux Indians who were living
in canvas tents or low lodges of loose skins, pitched at the
mouths of tributary streams where the eddies supplied them
with fish. I avoided them as much as possible, not having the
tea and tobacco to satisfy their importunities, nor time to waste
in relieving their curiosity at sight of a solitary ‘Chi-sai-witc-in”
(white man). As soon as they saw that I was going past without
stopping they would dash pell-mell down the bank, and come
off in their canoes, following me for a mile or two to beg for
“lee tea.” I expected to find a large band of Loucheux at the
mouth of the Red River, to avoid which I kept along the oppo-
site bank. I could see their lodges plainly, and was just con-
gratulating myself on having escaped them, when I reached
the sharp turn to the northwest below the Lower Ramparts
and suddenly found myself within a hundred yards of a dozen
lodges. All was in an uproar in a moment. Some rushed
toward the canoes, others began shouting and beckoning to
me to come ashore. I thought that the men with the skiff
must be close at hand and its occupants had more time to
waste than I, so I pointed up the river and imitated the motion
of rowing at which they left their canoes and several climbed
the high bank to watch for the boat.

An eccentric little windmill, made of three pieces of spruce,
was wobbling at a rapid rate on a stake set up in a conspicuous
place on the bank. Unlike the superstitious natives about

1 Between the date of Franklin’s second voyage in 1826, and that of
Simpson, in 1836, the post was moved to Manitou Island, opposite its pres-
ent site. Theisland was flooded with “two fathoms” of water during the
June rise of 1836, which mowed down the forest and injured, but did not

carry away, the buildings. The inhabitants escaped in a boat to a lake in
the center of the island. Simpson, Thomas, ‘‘Varrative,” p. 99.

136 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

New Amsterdam, the Loucheux are not afraid of windmills,
and amuse themselves by making simple toy wheels, since the
windmill was put up by the mission at McPherson. A strong
head wind blew steadily all day. The long sweep of the river
around Point Separation was fully exposed to the wind which,
blowing against the current, raised such a sea that progress was
not only retarded but rendered dangerous. This point, at the
head of the Delta, was so named by Franklin when, in 1826, he
divided his party to send Richardson down the eastern channels
to the coast. Twenty-two years later Dr. Richardson again
reached Point Separation, where he deposited a case of pem-
mican at the foot of one of the many lop-sticks, for the use of
Franklin’s party should any survivors succeed in reaching and
ascending the Mackenzie.!

Many sanguinary conflicts have occurred there between
Loucheux and Eskimos.2. The ‘“ Huskies,” who annually as-
cend the river to trade at McPherson, are said to ‘make them-
selves awkward” if they meet a party weaker than themselves,
so that I was inclined to give them as wide a berth as possible.

I started early, on the fifth day, and soon entered the narrow
channel, with many tedious windings, by which the “Wrigley”
ascends the Peel to McPherson.

The frozen banks were being rapidly undermined, the falling

1 British Arctic Blue Book, Vol. 35, p. 2.

*In a paper to the Institute of Rupert’s Land the Rev. W. W. Kirkby
writes: “ Between Point Separation and Peel’s River [Fort McPherson],we
met several parties of Esquimaux, all of whom from their thievish propen-
sities gave us a great deal of trouble, and very glad were we to escape out
of their hands without loss or injury. They are a fine-looking race of
people, and from their general habits and appearance J imagine them to be
much more intelligent than the Indians.” Hind., H. Y., The Labrador
Peninsula, Vol. II, p. 164.

In 1790 Mr. Duncan Levingstone, of the North-West Company, with four
servants, was killed by the Eskimos at Point Separation, while “on a voy-
age of discovery.’’ Masson, Les Bourgeois, Vol. I, p. 95.

Pullen gives an account of the cowardly massacre there ofa party of
Eskimos by a band of Loucheux at the instigation of a Canadian. British
Arctic Blue Book, 1852, Vol. 50, p. 54.

On another occasion the two nations had met on friendly terms, but dur-
ing a dance, the Eskimos had suddenly drawn knives from their wide
sleeves and attacked the Loucheux. In the conflict which ensued several
were slain on both sides. Richardson, Arctic Searching Expedition, p. 133.

LOUCHLOX BOYS. MC PHERSON,

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 137

earth was a source of constant danger, as I found it necessary
to keep close to the banks in order to make any headway against
the swift current. I made slow progress, often advancing only
by digging the paddle into the bank and fighting my way inch
by inch. I reached McPherson at 34. M. onthe Igth. I had
been five days on the journey, and had paddled twenty-two
hours to make the last forty miles, most of that distance being
against the current of the Peel River. The skiff did not arrive
until the day following, on account of being delayed by the
strong wind which had caused me such heavy paddling on the
third and fourth days.

When I landed fifteen to twenty Indians and métis youths
were playing football in the quadrangular space before the big
house. They slept during the day, when both the sun and mos-
quitoes were troublesome, and at “night,” when the sun shone
just above the forest to the northward, they visited their nets,
hunted waterfowl in the partially frozen lakes near by, or chased
a homemade football in a noisy pack. They all came to the
landing place to shake hands and to carry my baggage up the
steep bank. They could seethat I hada little flour,a luxury the
last pound of which had been consumed at that post months
before, and I heard them speculating as to the probability of
the various muskimoots containing tea and tobacco.

No boat had arrived from Herschel Island. I found that the
explorer, Count de Sainville, was preparing to go by canoe to
Herschel Island, also with the intention of taking passage for
San Francisco. It would be much safer and much pleasanter
to have company on the journey, I therefore waited a few days
for the Count to complete his arrangements for departure.

I took advantage of the opportunity to write letters which
would be forwarded by the “Wrigley,” which would arrive about
July 15th. I then occupied the time in collecting ethnological
specimens and writing a vocabulary of common Loucheux
words.

As there were no goods in the store I was not very success-
ful in obtaining specimens from the natives. A few pounds of
tea would have enabled me to purchase anything they pos-
sessed.

Plain mooseskin moccasins were valued at one skin, beaded
ones, two skins; plain mooseskin hunting shirt, four skins; orna-

138 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

mented with fringe, ribbon, and quills, ten skins. The Louch-
eux, before the advent of the whites, wore caribouskin clothing.
The upper garment had a pointed skirt which reached to the
knee. The trousers and shoes were joined together, as in those
worn by the Eskimo women. This pretty and serviceable cos-
tume is no longer worn. There was but one old woman at the
post who knew how to make it; she asked only fifty skins fora
suit of white caribouskin, as soft as chamois leather, tastefully
trimmed with quill-wrapped fringe and beads.

The Count had spent four years in the Lower Mackenzie
region and had so gained the confidence of the natives that two
of them were willing to assist him to reach Herschel Island,
which was in the territory of their hereditary enemies, the Eski-
mos—though the two races were then at peace—and we would
have to traverse a hundred miles of unknown seacoast, after
leaving the mouth of the river.

I left the Slavey canoe in which I had come from Good
Hope at McPherson, and continued in a small Loucheux birch
canoe which had broadly flaring sides, so that it was not at all
cranky. It was thirty-two inches in the beam, but it was
roughly made and quite “slow.” It was fourteen feet in length
along the water line and fourteen inches in depth. The Count
had a large canvas-covered canoe, which three men could drive
at the rate of about four miles an hour when loaded with eight
hundred pounds of baggage.

We started for Herschel Island on the 25th of June. Twelve
miles below the post the Peel divides into a number of chan-
nels, some of which flow toward Point Separation, while others
extend nearly to the ocean before mingling their waters with
those of the Mackenzie. During the afternoon a strong head
wind raised such high waves in the current that we traveled
at considerable risk and frequently shipped water.

Muskrats were abundant in the many channels, and ducks,
geese, cranes, swans, and loons filled the air with discordant
sounds at all hours. Several bald eagles were seen during the
day, one of which Vusso killed for its skin which he carried to
the coast to trade with the Eskimos. We camped that evening
on a point that was covered with the fresh tracks of two grizzly
bears.

The sun shone throughout the twenty-four hours of the day,

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 139

and with such power that the snows were melted to a high
altitude on the Rocky Mountains, along whose eastern base we
were traveling.

The whole country had been flooded a few days before, at the
time of the breaking up of the ice that still remained in consid-
erable quantities of black and dripping blocks along the banks.
It was difficult to find enough brush to keep our blankets out
of the mud which had been deposited by the receding waters.
The hares in the Delta had been drowned during the overflow,
and we frequently saw their dead bodies suspended among the
willows.

As we continued next day the waterfowl became more abun-
dant in the ponds which covered the interior of the islands.
All through the cooler part of the day, or night, when the sun
hung low in the north, the melodious call of the long-tailed
duck, Clangula hyemals (Linn.), (known to Eskimos by the
name a-hau-l’ifi, and to the whites by another onomatope—
caccawe) could be heard. I never tired of hearing the note of
this duck, which rang out with such wild, mirth-provoking
freedom, in contrast with the hideous scream of the loon, Colym-
bus pacificus Lawr.

The Count assured me that the area covered by water ex-
ceeded the timbered portion of the Delta in extent, as viewed
by him from the summit of the Black Mountain, just east of
which we were passing. Moose and bear tracks were frequently
seen. Lieutenant Pullen, who entered the mouth of the Mac-
kenzie on the 27th of August, 1850, reported ‘tracks of bears,
moose and reindeer frequent.” On the morning of the third
day a wolverine was wounded but escaped. We killed geese,
ducks, and muskrats and, with the flour which I had brought,
we were well provisioned. At 7 P. M., as we were quietly pad-
dling around a long bend, with a low muddy shore, we caught
sight of a large grizzly bear walking down stream by the water’s
edge. As I was the only member of the party who had a rifle,
I hastened to draw it from its case and to push forward to get
a shot at close range. The bear, without seeing us, entered
the stream with the evident intention of swimming across. “Be
careful,” said the Indians, ‘‘he is a wicked beast. If you kill
him, you must grab him or he will sink.” I was within fifty
yards of the animal before he discovered our presence. He

140 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

uttered a roar of rage as he realized his disadvantage, and at
once turned back toward the shore which he had just quitted.
He held his head well out of the water and continued growling,
though he swam rapidly. I waited until he gained a foothold
at the shallow margin before I fired. The bullet struck a little
above his heart, rendering him helpless but not killing him.
He sank to the frozen earth through a foot of soft mud in which
he floundered and rolled until no longer recognizable asa bear.
It was not difficult then to finish him. We had not met on
equal terms, yet I had not felt altogether at ease in attempting
to approach and fire from the cranky little canoe which veered
quickly when I dropped the paddle to use the rifle, nor did I
relish the idea of “ grabbing” a dying grizzly to keep him from
sinking. As there was no suitable camping place near at hand,
we towed the bear a quarter of a mile across the river. It re-
quired all of one man’s strength to raise the body to the surface
in approaching the shore. It was a five-year old male, still in
prime condition. We celebrated the event by having a feast
of ducks and fresh bread. AsI wished to preserve the skin for
mounting, it took us some time to remove it, and it was 3 A. M.
before we sought our tired pillows.

On the fifth day we passed the last stunted and flat-topped
spruce; the channels were fringed with willows nearly to the
coast, which was reached the following day. The larger lakes
were still covered with ice, though the sea was open to the
horizon.

We had been delayed while descending the river by the wind
which blew continually on our bows. Though our progress
was slow, we were not prevented from traveling, but through-
out the voyage before us, along a hundred miles of unprotected
sea coast, we would be driven ashore by every strong breeze,
unless it blew off the land. My pleasure at beholding the
Arctic Ocean at last, was mingled with apprehension at the
thought of how unsuitable was the craft with which I would
have to traverse its ice-laden waters.

We had first to cross an indentation of the coast, called Shoal-
water Bay, which lies between the mouth of the westernmost
channel of the Mackenzie and the delta of a mountain stream
thrown out some miles from the hills. We were over an hour
making this traverse, where even a moderate wind would have

DOWN THE MACKENZIE I41

quickly raised a choppy and dangerous sea, and the extensive
mud flats inshore would have made a landing difficult. When
midway across, a bumblebee flew past my canoe, straight from
the north, toward the land, over two miles distant.

As we approached the battures beyond the bay, we were
saluted by several rifle shots fired by two Eskimos, whose camp
was pitched on the beach, at the mouth of one of the channels.
They were living in a new wall tent, which they had obtained
from the whalers; several bags of flour, as much as some north-
ern posts receive for a year’s allowance, piled under an over-
turned omiak, had also come from Herschel Island. A quan-
tity of fresh caribou meat and herring was hanging on a scaffold
near by; the woman was kneeling before a wooden vessel of
native manufacture, that resembled a neatly-made peck meas-
ure, in which she was kneading dough. Such a display of
provision and the salute accorded us caused us to land, of
course. We were hospitably received by the head of the fam-
ily, a tall ferocious looking fellow, whose natural ugliness was
enhanced by the presence of a disc labret, as large as a silver
dollar, in his lower lip.

The Indians conversed with the Eskimos in the trade jargon
of the coast, which included even Kanaka words in its vocabu-
lary. We learned that they had just come from Herschel
Island, where the “Yankee ships” had been left firmly frozen in.

They were all dressed in caribou or sealskin garments. Their
well-made and serviceable clothing was markedly superior to
the tattered and inadequate dress of the Indians. Like many
other things invented by the Eskimo, his dress is superior to
any which the white man can give him. The woman wore an
artega, so broad at the shoulders that she could draw in her
arm without using the other hand to assist in the act. I was
puzzled at first sight of the empty sleeve, as I thought, surely,
she cannot be one-armed, but the mystery was explained as she
thrust out the arm again with two or three circling flops of the
sleeve, still keeping the other hand engaged with the kettles.
The short-skirted artega was at first scarcely distinguishable
from the frock worn by the two men, father and son, nor could
I have known their sex from their manner; the woman talked
with the air of an equal, instead of maintaining silence, or with
the slavish behavior of the Indian women in the presence of

142 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

strangers. Her costume, though ultra bicyclienne, could but
impress one observing such an entire novelty for the first time,
as being becoming and sensible. Their clothing was trimmed
with the white-haired Asiatic reindeerskin, carcajou and wolf-
skin.

The two younger children fried the bread, which had been
prepared for us, in a pan of seal oil over an open fire of drift-
wood. Thecakes were of the usual Eskimo shape—oblong, and
perforated with three pairs of holes. As soon as this dough-
nut-bread was ready, we were invited into the tightly-closed
tent where we succeeded in eating one meal without being tor-
mented by the ubiquitous mosquitoes. In addition to venison
and bread, we were given syrup and coffee, articles quite un-
known inthe interior; the Eskimos of that coast do not use tea.

As we reémbarked, the woman brought some venison from
the stage and threwinto each canoe; this act of unsolicited gen-
erosity but completed the favorable impression which their
conduct had made. The Indian treatment would have begun
with begging for tea, and if we had been called back it would
have been for the purpose of begging for more tea.

By wading and dragging our canoes for a mile, through a
shallow channel, we avoided a long detour around the outlying
reefs. The temperature of both air and water was near the
freezing point,and our respect for the mighty deep had changed
to profound disgust before we reached deeper water again.
We early encountered more serious detentions than those
caused by shoals. A north wind soon drove us ashore, where
we pitched our tent on low ground, with nothing but water-
soaked fuel to be had. The wind kept the wet logs blazing,
but it pierced through our winter clothing and made the half-
clad Loucheux wish that they were within the shelter of the
woods again.

The Mackenzie brings down immense quantities of driftwood
that is strewn for hundreds of miles along the coast. The
largest logs, of spruce and rough-barked poplar, come from
the distant Liard. The sand beaches of the coast are literally
covered with the white trunks from which the bark and branches
have been worn.

The volume of water poured out by the Mackenzie is suff-
cient to keep the sea fresh and clear ofice for many miles. As

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 143

we passed Escape Reef, the scene of Franklin’s adventure with
the then numerous Eskimos, we entered the salt water in which
we first encountered ice. The floes became more abundant until
we found ourselves threading our way through a narrow chan-
nel between the ice pack and perpendicular, frozen mud cliffs
which rose to a height of one. to two hundred feet.

The “Glorious Fourth” was ushered in by the sun standing
1° and 43’ above the northern horizon at midnight. South of us
the lofty, snow-crowned peaks of the Rockies formed a fitting
background to one of the most beautiful scenes that I have
ever witnessed. The gently rolling hills near the sea were
literally covered with flowers, though every ravine was filled
with snow. Along the beach the ice was piled in great masses
where it had been driven by the wind. Along the northern
horizon the floes were closely packed, they floated about us,
worn into a variety of grotesque forms by the action of the
waves. A faint rosy haze hung over all and suffused and soft-
ened the harsh details. At intervals, we passed lagoons inclosed
by barriers of sand strewn with driftwood. The Eskimos
have encamped for ages upon these beaches; the sites of even
their temporary summer camps were marked by cones of short
logs set up to keep the wood dry or out of the snow. The
winter settlement of Peockcha at Shingle Point was deserted,
though there was evidence of its having been occupied dur-
ing the previous winter. On the high grounds, back of these
abandoned camps, were oblong heaps of driftwood, erected
over the remains of the dead, which could not easily be interred
without tools for digging in the frozen earth.

During the night of the 4th we came upon a family of white
foxes, close to the water’s edge, and succeeded in capturing
two of the young. The siffleux were very abundant, their note
of alarm sounded continually from the cliffs above us. Water-
fowl were not numerous, and our fare was reduced to red-
throated loons and tea. A few ravens were perched about the
face of the black and thawing cliffs; these birds were prob-
ably attracted by the carcasses of stranded whales which had
drifted in from the whaling grounds.

We found a party of natives at Warren Point, whose new
canvas wall tents were pitched within a few feet of the sea. The
tide rises less than two feet on that coast, and the presence of

144 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the ice field at that season prevented the sea from being driven
in by storms. They had no kaiaks, but set their herring nets
with the aid of two or three slender poles spliced together, one
end of the net being made fast ashore and the other pushed out
from the beach. At our approach they talked and gesticulated
in an animated manner. As they walked I noticed the char-
acteristic gait, so frequently mentioned, and usually called
“rolling,” though the term does not describe it. They are usu-
ally considered greatly inferior to the Indians as runners.
They are a seafaring race, who hunt caribou in summer only,
and at that season the yielding moss would tend to develop,
rather than correct, the peculiarity in their stride. The custom
of shaking hands, which is so ceremoniously observed by the
Indians, was treated rather as a joke by the Eskimos; they
would grasp a proffered hand, but with an air of doing so
merely to oblige. Some of the men were of tall stature, one of
them must have exceeded six feet, and his nose was quite
prominent.1| They were ‘Anderson River Eskimos,” from the
coast east of the Mackenzie. The dogs at this camp were large
and well fed. The curled tails, erect ears, and heavy coats
indicated the pure blood Eskimo dog. They were black in
color with white markings.

On the fifth a strong northwest wind, accompanied by rain
and snow, prevented traveling. Fortunately, we had a small
tent which protected the Count and myself from the violence
of the storm. The Indians improvised a shelter from a piece of
boat canvas, which they stretched over drift willow sticks,
arched in the form of the Loucheux lodge, which resembles an
Eskimo ice hut in shape. They crouched under this low roof
and passed the time in sleep or chattered with banter and
laughter about the strange sights of the sea. After we had
been delayed thirty-six hours, the wind suddenly shifted to the
southward, allowing us to proceed. We had to make quick
work of loading the canoes to avoid being nipped by the floes,
which were driven rapidly along by a strong tide. The icehad
accumulated during our halt, so that further progress was im-
possible until the change of wind again drove it offshore.

1“T] est parmi eux des hommes fort grands, mais la taille des femmes est

‘généralement petite.” Petitot, Monographe, p. 4.
Compare Kelly, Arctic Eskimos in Alaska and Siberia, p. 15.

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 145

There was still a heavy sea running as we passed Kay Point,
where the deepest soundings of the entire coast are found, and
we rounded the point with no little difficulty and danger.
Twenty miles to the northwestward, the rolling hills of Her-
schel Island, rising five hundred feet above the sea, were plainly
visible. All about us were scattered the grounded floes, worn in
arched hollows, in which the waves beat in reverberating
monotony. A few yards from shore the unbroken ice of winter
extended beyond the limits of our view.

Phillips Bay is partly enclosed by a narrow sandspit upon
which is situated the permanent Eskimo settlement of Tekara.
The inhabitants were then living in their summer tents. We
were scarcely able to reach this camp before the wind, now on
our bows, compelled us to land. The Eskimos asked us to
enter their tents, which were comparatively clean and comfort-
able, but smelled strongly of the rancid whale oil, or oakchoak,
which taints everything that an Eskimo eventouches. Four or
five recently-killed seals were being cared for, and fish seemed
to be abundant. One old man kept a constant lookout with a
long glass for seals. Coffee, flour and syrup from the whaling
vessels were used by every family. In twenty-four hours the
sea again fell so that we reached the mainland, where we were
stopped by the ice field, which was grounded inshore and in
places piled high upon the beach. The tent was again pitched
on the bar at the mouth of a mountain creek that supplied us
with fresh water. Every gully was full of hardened snow which
looked as if it would last through the summer.

While the men slept I examined the graves on the brow of the
hill overlooking the camp. In one of such great age that the
logs were scarcely distinguishable, andthe skull was disarticu-
lated, I found a pair of marble labrets of the usual stud-shaped
pattern. An omiak and two kaiak frames, kumotiks, a repeat-
ing rifle, bows, arrows, harpoons, ornaments, amulets, cooking
utensils, etc., were lying beside the graves. When I returned
to camp I found the two men quietly sleeping in a tarpaulin,
which was burning in several places; the wind had changed to
the westward and carried sparks from the fire upon their cover-
ing. They were chagrined at the predicament in which they
found themselves, but as long as they escaped with a whole
skin, ‘‘coca”’—never mind.

Io

146 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

As the wind rose the whole ice field moved fifteen to twenty
yards from shore, enabling us to proceed by making occasional
portages over narrow barriers of jammed ice. The field was
marked by pits and channels, a few inches in depth, some of
which were deep enough to be utilized in passing obstructed
points. Several times I attempted to pass through such a chan-
nel, only to find the bottom covered with mud which gave ita
false appearance of depth, and to have the canoe strike hard
and fast. The rough and jagged ice soon wore away the gum
from the seams, but with care the bark itself escaped injury.
After five hours’ paddling we reached a large settlement of
natives, situated upon the mainland, twelve miles south of the
harbor. They assured us that it would be impossible to reach
the island, and that we might as well camp with them for a few
days. One look at them was enough to convince me that we
had better move onif possible. They were dressed in the most
grotesque costumes, and their dissipated looks did not tend to
inspire confidence. Those who wore the native frocks kept
their hoods, bordered with long wolf hair, drawn closely about
their faces to protect them from the attacks of the swarms of
mosquitoes. One of the men wore a new sombrero with a very
broad brim. Others had miscellaneous odds and ends com-
bined with their native costumes, with the effect on the beholder
of having discarded a portion of their apparel and substituted:
an incongruous textile fabric to mark the loss. Several wore
tight-fitting, red flannel drawers over their deerskin trousers.

We continued a few miles along the shore, finding progress:
more and more difficult, until we reached the long projecting
sandspit which extends to within a mile of a similar bar from
the southeastern point of Herschel Island. After searching for
some time to find a passage through the closely-packed floes,
with much chopping and pushing to clear our way, and with
some portaging, we reached the island, where we found the ice
firmly jammed against the cliffs, and further progress toward
the harbor, seven miles distant, impossible. We could, of
course, now travel overland, but as we were quite exhausted
with thirty-six hours’ work without sleep, we sought first to
obtain a little rest before continuing.

We ate our last bread and a bit of cold loon, set up our mos-
quito canopies on the sand, and were soon soundly sleeping.

ESKIMO HUTS OF DRIFTWOOD, HERSCHEL ISLAND.

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 147

The midday sun shone directly upon us, the mosquitoes added
their vicious and irritating hum to the owdk tchowdk of the
waves in the hollows and the grinding of the floes as the tidal
currents moved them.

It is said to be more difficult to sleep upon sand than upon
rock. I could see little difference myself, but we slept very
soundly, nevertheless, for two hours, when Tothin awakened us
with the information that the ice was moving. We were not in
a mood to care if Herschel Island were adrift and were not
pleased to find the barrier as firm as ever. The wind was blow-
ing from a favorable quarter and increasing, so that the ice field,
which a few yards out was not yet broken up, soon moved
enough to form a narrow lane at the base of the cliffs, through
which we beat our way against the gusts of wind and rain
which came whirling down the gulches of the rugged coast.
At midnight, July 8th, we were within six hundred yards of the
vessels, which were lying close together near the beach. They
were held at their anchorage by heavy floes, driven in by the
ice field. Wecould neither land upon the muddy precipice nor
continue farther with the canoes; a kumotik was sent to our
rescue, upon which the baggage was placed bya half dozen
Eskimos and sailors. I could not have believed it possible for
men to walk over such ice as we traversed before reaching the
vessels. Two or three of the men missed their footing in
jumping on the loose floes and were ducked in three fathoms
of water. The Count and I wore common leather shoes, which
were not so well adapted to use upon the ice as the flexible
soled Eskimo boots worn by the sailors, and our wild leaps must
have been highly amusing to the spectators. We were hospita-
bly received on board the bark ‘‘ Balaena” by the assembled offi-
cers of the fleet. We brought them news only five months old.

The journey from the mouth of the Mackenzie had occupied
eight days; had we had a boat, instead of the light canoes, we
could have easily reached the island in three days. Sir John
Franklin, who was the first white man to explore that coast,
reached Herschel Island on the 17th of July, 1826, ten days out
from the Mackenzie. His party had two boats, one twenty-four
and the other twenty-six feet in length. Dease and Simpson, in
1837, left the mouth of the Mackenzie on the oth of July and
reached Herschel Island on the 14th. They were traveling in

eH
148 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

two clinker-built boats of twenty-four foot keel. In 1850 Lieu-
tenant Pullen passed the island on the 22nd of August and
entered the river on the 27th.

We had reached the island just in time. The two heaviest
steamers had been “bucking” the ice during the preceding day
and had nearly reached the point of the bar enclosing the
harbor. Toward the northeast the sea was open, and a whale-
boat had been sent to the mouth of the Mackenzie to meet the
Count, but had been turned back by the ice encountered there.
During the night of the 1oth a second and successful attempt
was made to escape from the imprisoning floes. Each captain
took his place in the crow’s nest at the foremast head, whence
the whole field of ice could be seen. The ‘“Balaena” and
‘“Narwhal”’ were the heaviest vessels, and consequently the
most successful in their attacks upon the ice which was tightly
held at the extremity of the sandspit. I was on board one of
the vessels as she worked her way around. The ice was broken
by the weight of the vessels and not by the shock. The bow
would rise until the ice could no longer sustain the weight,
when it settled and the vessel would back off for another blow.
By 2 A.M. on the 11th, the last vessel was anchored outside
and the crews sent to bring off the whaleboats, which had been
lying on the beach. An hour later the last steamer had disap-
peared in the fogs toward the eastward. They were on their
way to the whaling grounds between Richard’s Island and Cape
Bathurst, where, during the preceding summer, they had made
the greatest catch in the history of Arctic whaling, the ‘ Nar-
whal” having taken sixty-four bowhead whales, the “ Balaena”’
sixty-two, and the others from nine to forty each. The sea
had been unusually open during the summer of 1893; one of
the vessels had followed the coast of Banks’ Land for some
distance to the northward without encountering ice.

A few buildings have been erected on the sandspit which
encloses Pauline Harbor, in which to store whalebone and sup-
plies. Three men were left to guard this property from fire,
the natives who remained about the place being quite indiffer-
ent to the fact that their camp fires were built within a few feet
of half a million dollars worth of whalebone.

The officer in charge of the station, Captain E. C. Murray,
went on board the ‘‘ Balaena” for the summer, so that the men

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 149

could not leave their post; there were no Eskimos to be hired,
so that I was obliged to go alone if I visited the mainland.

There were only a few species of birds to be found about the
station. I was desirous of securing specimens of ptarmigan in
summer plumage, but there were none to be found upon the
island, where they had been abundant during the winter.

It rained or snowed frequently and continual fogs made out-
door work very unpleasant. Two days after the departure of
the vessels there was not a cake of ice left in the harbor, but
the ice field was unbroken west of the island.

On the 19th I started for the mainland in a heavy dingy. I
had to reef the leg-o’-mutton sail before the steady breeze which
was carrying me rapidly toward the point of the island. To
my consternation I discovered after an hour’s sailing that the
ice floes had gathered along shore, forming a barrier three or
four hundred yards in width; and a field of solid ice prevented
me from sailing within a quarter of a mile of the point. I was
being driven into a pocket from which it was impossible to
beat my way in the flat-bottomed dingy. There was nothing
to do but run into the tossing and grinding floes and at least
make my own escape, if the boat should be crushed. Running
in between two floes, each about twenty yards in diameter, I
succeeded in getting the bow of the boat upon one of them
before it was nipped. After two hours’ hard work I reached
the beach, having to cut footholes and drag the boat over the
ice one end ata time. I had landed at the debouchure of a little
coulée, twenty yards in width, in the bottom of which there
was sufficient driftwood for fuel. On each side the overhang-
ing walls of snow’and ice rose to a height of sixty feet. The
next day showed no change in the condition of the ice. I could
not launch the boat, so the day was spent in examining the
abandoned Eskimo village at the southern point of the island.
The remains of two other ancient settlements exist at the harbor
and at the southwestern extremity of the island. The wretched
hovels, built of driftwood, covered with earth, stood on the
low, sandy beach. After the departure of the few families
which had occupied them the previous winter, the huts had
filled with snow through the open roofs. The floor was of
earth, the walls of unhewn logs. The low entrance-ways were
caving in and filled with water or ice.

150 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The gale, accompanied by frequent showers of rain, contin-
ued during the third day. The ice was rapidly breaking up and
disappearing, not drifting away, but being pounded out of
existence by the heavy seas. The main field was four feet in
thickness and several square miles in extent. Small bergs, ten
to fifteen feet in height, were driven into this, and they too were
soon transformed into seawater. I occupied a part of the day
in baking bread in the frying pan before a fire of wet logs and
concluded that a sandy beach and a strong wind is not a happy
combination for open air baking. On the 22nd I reached the
southwestern extremity of the island,about seven miles distant.
I could not reach the mainland owing to the extensive mud-
flats, which the low tide exposed, but camped for the night on
the narrow sandbar which extends three miles from that extrem-
ity of the island. The day following the wind was blowing too
strong for the dingy to weather it,and I did not get away until
evening, when I rowed westward along the fringing reefs, which
extend with little interruption to Point Barrow. I halted at a
high island of only a few acres extent, where a considerable
portion of the property of a band of Eskimos, who were hunt-
ing caribou inland, was lying upon stages. I was opposite the
mouth of a large creek which flowed through a gap in the
mountains, ten or twelve miles distant. The stream had spread
in its rapid descent over several miles of plain, across which
running water appeared in at least fifty shallow channels.
With a canoe, I could have ascended this without great diffi-
culty, but I found it impossible to drag the heavy boat more
than five miles through the shallow rapids. I saw but few cari-
bou, and they kept well out on the level ground, where there
was not even a creeping shrub to afford cover in stalking. I
watched them for some time with the field glasses and noted
the fact that they seemed to be greatly annoyed by insects.
They were then clothed in the short summer hair and the ant-
lers of the males were of large size.

Returning to the eastward, I camped on the mainland and
spent the next ten days in collecting birds. Isawno ptarmigan,
though they had been common between the Mackenzie and
Kay Point. Red-throated loons and cacawees were the most
abundant of the water birds. Ravens were common, perhaps
attracted by the carcasses of whales, seven of which were within

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 151

five miles of the camp. Sparrows and longspurs were every-
where abundant. I collected a few siffleux, one of which I
boiled to test the quality of its flesh; it tasted much as a house
rat dooks. The almost continual rain and fog made camping
alone with a boat sail for shelter very monotonous. During the
last two days the mosquitoes were unusually vicious and in such
numbers that they obscured the color of my clothing and sur-
roundings with their gray-hued legions.

During my absence one of the vessels had returned to repair
a rudder, which had been broken in the ice. The officers de-
clared that the ice was heavier and more abundant than they
had ever known it to be before. They could not advance
beyond Pelly Island, where one vessel had been driven ashore
but had been hauled off without serious injury. No whales had
been seen. Point Barrow natives, whom they had established on
Bailey Island, had not secured any whales during the spring.
There seemed to be some doubt among the officers of the island
fleet as to whether or not the outside fleet would succeed in
passing the reefs, midway between the island and Point Bar-
row, where the ice always lies close inshore, and, it is said, does
not during some seasons open sufficiently to allow a vessel to
pass at all, although the whalers have reached Mackenzie Bay
each summer since 1889. During that year the United States
Steamship “Thetis” visited Herschel Island and examined the
harbors at the eastern and southern capes. Though Pauline
harbor is half a mile in length, the extent of good anchoring
ground does not exceed an area four hundred yards long by
three hundred wide.

On the 8th of August signal smokes on the mainland an-
nounced the arrival of the Rat Indians who annually visit the
island with dried meat and skins. The Eskimos went to meet
them with a whaleboat.

Early on the morning of August I9th a steam launch arrived,
which had been despatched from Return Reef, where the out-
side fleet had been stopped bythe ice. Captain Ellis reported
the loss of the bark ‘ Reindeer,” which had been driven ashore
by the ice. He had killed three polar bears while working
through the ice, one of which he presented to the University of
Iowa.

At I p.m. the first steamer hove in sight around the northern

152 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

headland, to be followed twenty minutes later by another. Over
a dozen vessels came in, attracted by the remarkably success-
ful catch that had been made during the summer of ’93. In
that year the first vessel arrived at the island on the 24th, and
in 1892 on the 19th, of August. On the 23rd the “Jeanie,”
drawing over three fathoms, arrived with supplies for the ves-
sels that were to spend a second winter at the island.

On the 30th day of August I left Herschel Island upon the
brig-rigged whaling steamer “ Jeanette,” Captain E. W. Newth.
We were to proceed at once to Wrangel Island, for a month’s
whaling, before starting homeward. Wecruised along the edge
of the ice field, to which we sometimes anchored at night if the
wind permitted. Nearly every day the boats were lowered for
whales, but without success.

The temperature ranged from twenty-five to thirty degrees
during the night, when large quantities of ice formed upon the
rigging. We were almost continually enveloped in fog or kept
inside by rain and snow. On the sth and 6th of September we
were pitched and tossed by a northerly gale which threatened
to close the ice in between us and Point Barrow. On the 7th
we steamed all day among favorable leads, only to find in the
evening that we had run intoa pocket from which all haste was
made to escape, and we steamed all night to get back again to
open water.

On the gth we fell in with three other vessels, also pushing
westward. We ‘“gammed’”—visited with their captains, during
the day as we steamed through a quiet sea. On the morning
of the 1oth we reached Point Barrow, the northernmost point
of Alaska, situated in latitude 71° 23’ N., longitude 156° 40’
W., west of which the sea does not close until October. The
inside fleet is beset at Herschel Island a month earlier. Two
whaling companies have stations located at Cape Smythe, the
nearest high ground, twelve miles southwest of the Point.

During the summer of ’94 the whalers had been unusually
successful and had taken twenty-one thousand pounds of whale-
bone. There is also a government refuge station maintained at
the Cape for the benefit of the whalers.

A Mr. Brower, who had spent seven years in the country, a
member of one of the whaling crews, said that with his party of
natives he had killed one hundred and thirty-two caribou that

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 153

summer. While inland, he had seen “fifty musk-ox skulls.”
The oldest Eskimos say that their fathers hunted musk-ox but
there were no caribou then. In a large lake, south of Cape
Halket, which had but a single outlet to the sea,through which
no large fish could pass, he declared there were large shark-like
fish, which exceeded twenty feet in length, and that he had
himself seen their bones in abundance upon the beach, but had
never heard of this species in the sea or in any other lake.

Near Cape Lisburne,a few miles down the coast, coal is found,
and in the accompanying strata, fossil “leaves, birds, tracks,
bones and shells are abundant.” South of that point fossil
trees are saidto be common. Thecountry about Point Barrow
is a barren, gently rolling tundra, with no mountains in sight.

We left Point Barrow on the morning of September 11th and
steamed through loose pack ice for the next four days. We fre-
quently felt a shock as the vessel struck an ice floe, because of
the narrowness of the lead or the indifference of the officer in
the crow’s nest, who usually gave the command “port” or
“starboard” in time to veer away from the ice. On the 18th
we were tossed and rolled by an arctic gale, which drove the
Count and myself to our bunks and added to the general dis-
content of the officers and crew. Day after day the boats had
been lowered, but without killing a whale. Only one had been
taken during the summer, to the eastward of Herschel Island.

On the toth Herald Island was sighted. This island is only
six miles long by two wide, and is one thousand feet high,
Twenty-five miles west of it is Wrangel Land, an island seventy-
five miles long by twenty-five wide, and having peaks exceed-
ing two thousand feet in height. These islands were discovered
by the English discovery ship “‘ Herald,” on the 17th of August,
1849.!

On the 21st and 22nd we rode out another gale. A cold,
which I had contracted at Herschel Island, had grown steadily
worse, and I had little strength left to ‘‘hang on” as the vessel
rolled. The next three days saw us tossed in cross seas. Snow
every day and frequent fogs prevented successful whaling. On
the 26th we ran into an immense school of whales, ‘“ Over a
hundred in sight!” The five boats were lowered at 7 A. m. and

1 British Arctic Blue Book, Vol. 35, p. 9.

154 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

were out ten hours. The second mate struck a whale which
capsized the boat, but the crew were rescued by another boat.
The whale sank and was lost. The vessel was kept on two
hour tacks during the night and in the morning the whale,
which had risen to the surface was discovered. I then had an
opportunity of seeing awhale “cutin.” The process occupied
all hands for four hours.

That afternoon we passed two walrus, the first seen that sea-
son. Observations taken that afternoon showed that we were
northwest of Herald Island in the lead which the exploring
steamer “Jeannette” had entered in 1879. The current which
had carried that vessel so far after she was beset had caused
our vessel to drift fifty miles toward the northwest in the last
four days.

On the 28th the young ice covered the surface of the water
in broad, flaky patches. Steaming to the northward we en-
countered the pack in latitude 72” 10’ N.

During the night of October Ist there were several whales
close to the vessel, their presence being shown by the flashing
phosphorescence and the sound made by their flukes striking
the water. Nearly every night while in the western Arctic I
noticed the brilliant phosphorescence of the water in the wake
of the vessel. On the 2nd the temperature fell to ten degrees
below the freezing point. Owing to the coldand rough weather
Captain Newth decided not to wait until the toth, the usual
date of departure, before starting homeward, but on the 5th to
the joy of everyone on board the prow was turned toward the
Straits and all sail was set. On the 8th five hawks rested for
some time in the rigging. They had probably been blown off
from the Alaskan coast by the easterly wind of the preceding
day. We reached East Cape on the toth, where a few natives
were landed with their belongings. The Eskimo settlement is
situated at the extremity of the rugged headland; the low earth
covered hovels cling to the steep slope like the nests of barn
swallows. Three omiaks filled with men came off to the
“Jeanette” which drifted rapidly in the strong tide. While
they remained on board the light skin boats beat against their
fenders of inflated sealskin without injury, where an ordinary
whaleboat would have been dashed to pieces.

The mountains, which rise abruptly from the beach, were

SIBERIAN CHAPLIN. NATIVES AT CAPE,

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 155

covered with snow. Toward the southeast the bluish white
rocks, known as the Diomede Islands, were sharply outlined
against the sunlit masses of vapor which concealed the Ameri-
_ can coast from view.

On leaving the cape our course was shaped for Cape Tchap-
lin, or Indian Point, as it is known among the whalers, situated
a hundred miles farther down the Asiatic coast. We reached the
Point on the morning of the 11th, and spent the day anchored
off the long low sandspit, upon which the settlement stands,
engaged in trading for whalebone and walrus ivory with the
natives, who came aboard in such numbers as to fill the cabin
and cover the decks.

Their chief, Gohara, wasamong their number. He was a dig-
nified and intelligent looking man and had little to say, even
in trading. He is said to possess a herd of reindeer, whale-
boats and trading goods amounting in all—valued at San Fran-
cisco prices—to fifty thousand dollars.

Considerable quantities of alcohol and other liquors have
been distributed among these people, though the nefarious traf-
fic is now about suppressed. The natives have been‘‘educated”
until they are nearly a match for the whisky trader. The chief
will no longer buy a demijohn of alcohol without testing it from
the bottom. He remembers the time when he drank the first
draft from the vessel and became very “molly kelly” —drunk,
while his followers quenched their own overpowering thirst with
the water on which a pint of alcohol had been carefully poured.
Captain Murray told me that he had once purchased two bun-
dles of whalebone, of a native of that coast, in which two heavy
iron bars were concealed. When the trick was discovered, the
thrifty Eskimo laughed and said,“ alle same white man!”

An unusually large and handsome polar bearskin was brought
on board which had been dressed in such a manner that it could
be mounted. This I succeeded in purchasing for the University.

We set sail in the evening with a fair wind which carried us
across Behring Sea in four days. The Aleutian, or Fox,
Islands as they are known to the whalers, were passed on the
14th of October. The volcanic peaks on either hand were
obscured by snow squalls until we were fairly within the pass
of Unimak, when the clouds lifted sufficiently to reveal the
sterile and forbidding coasts.

156 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The waters of the Pacific were noticeably darker than those
of the shallow, muddy seas which we had left. The officers
took great pleasure in relating yarns describing incredible
achievements in arctic navigation, especially in the presence of
the Count, who was an experienced navigator, and who had no
patience with the rule-of-thumb methods of many of the old
whaling captains. For example, ‘there was old Captain Silas
B who, when he left the whaling ground, headed straight
for the American coast, from this he shaped his course for
Behring Straits. When he decided by the log that he had
passed this, if the thick weather or darkness obscured the land,
he steered for “seventy-two” (Amukta) Pass and, if he sighted
no land there, he turned toward San Francisco as soon as he
struck blue water!”

The run of two thousand miles to the Golden Gate was a
stormy one. During one of the gales the order to “heave to”
came too late, and one of the quarter boats was swept away as
if it had been held by pack thread instead of lashed as securely
as hemp could hold it. There was no place for me to sleep
except on the cabin sofa which extended athwart ships. If I
was awakened during the night and found my heels two feet
higher than my head, to which the blood had rushed, I knew
that we were sailing on the other tack! When the ship came
about J had to tack also. The vessel was very small and the
North Pacific, or the Arctic itself, in October, has no mercy on
such craft. The mal de mer claimed both the Count and my-
self for its own. The change from the simple diet and active
life of the northern voyageur to the more palatable though less
wholesome food, and the confinement on shipboard for two
months, greatly reduced our strength.

When the weather permitted, the crew was employed in
washing and bundling whalebone. The crow’s nest was taken
down, and the top-gallant and royal yards returned to their
proper place which the lookout box had occupied while the
vessel had been in Arctic seas.

Day by day the temperature rose, until the 26th, which was
the warmest experienced that year. On that day the worn fur
garments of both officers and men went over the rail, and
creased and wrinkled clothing which had been packed away for
twenty months was substituted.

DOWN THE MACKENZIE 1547

We entered the harbor of San Francisco early on the 27th of
October. The morning sun rose from behind the eastern
mountains upon a scene of beauty which to our eyes, so long
accustomed to snow and ice fields, seemed like a glimpse of
heaven. On either side of the narrow entrance the rugged
hills rose abruptly from the water’s edge where the heavy
ground swell broke in long lines of sparkling foam against the
dark cliffs. How different the green hillsides, dotted with
trees, viewed through the balmy air of a perfect day, from the
barren, fog-enveloped, and snow-covered mountains of the
Aleutian Islands which we had passed twelve days before!

We were landed too late in the day for me to transact any
business so that I could not leave for the east until the follow-
ing Monday, and even then the ferry gates were closing as I
rushed through to board the Oakland boat.

As I neared Iowa City on the 2nd of November, I received a
score of congratulatory telegrams from friends and organiza-
tions, which somewhat prepared me for the flattering reception
by the faculty, students, and citizens, to the number of several
hundred, who met me at the railway station.

CHAPTER IX
THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS

HE Athabascan family is separated, geographically, into
three primary groups: Northern, Pacific, Southern.

The Northern group includes the tribes inhabiting the region
which is bounded by the narrow territory of the Eskimos on the
north and east; by the Churchill River and Lake Athabasca
on the south; and on the west by coast tribes of other stocks.
They occupy nearly the whole of the interior of Alaska, and
reach the coast at Cook’s Inlet and at Copper River. The
Pacific group includes a number of tribes in Washington, Ore-
gon and California, the names of which are not widely known.
The Southern group embraces the Navajo, Apache, and Lipan
tribes.

The best description of the Northern Athabascans is that
given by Samuel Hearne, who crossed their territory, without
flourish of trumpets, in 1771-2. This officer of the Hudson’s
Bay Company was the first explorer who reached “ The Frozen
Ocean,” north of this continent, overland.1 His excellent de-
scription of the natives acquaints us with their character before
it had been modified by contact; it shows us that there has
been little change in their condition during the century anda
quarter which has since elapsed.

At present I can offer only a few observations regarding
these people, with whom I was hardly in sympathy when I was
with them. They did not wish to see mountable specimens of
the caribou and musk-ox taken out of the country,? and as I
did not attempt to buy their good will I did not obtain it,
except in a few instances. During the three years which have
passed since my residence among the Dog Ribs, I believe that

1 See p. 132, ante,

2 See p. 71, ante.

158

THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS 159

I have come to have a better understanding of the “Indian
mind.” They were more intelligent than I supposed, but I
made the mistake of judging them by our standards, and my
first impression was followed by disappointment. They occupy
what Professor Mason terms the “birch-bark region;”! the few
and extremely primitive arts of which, apparently, have not
advanced their mental development. They were never stupid,
but always light hearted, even under the most depressing cir-
cumstances. Twice, while at the edge of Barren Ground, the
whole band was without food, and the caribou were scarce; the
men gathered in one of the largest lodges to consider the situa-
tion and to form plans for remedying it. One of their number
began the discussion by cleverly mimicking the speech of an
absent chief. They closed their by no means solemn delibera-
tions by singing a number of native songs, notwithstanding their
very empty stomachs.

I several times saw the men pick up spruce sticks and, after
cutting down one side until they had a smooth white surface,
mark on them in charcoal in the syllabic character; the others
present would then try to imitate the first, but the “copy” was
soon thrown aside. Indeed the children are now taught to read
and write by the Roman Catholic missionary at Rae and both men
and women can read their prayer books readily.2 But the use
of denotive symbols has not yet affected their mode of thought.
Their ideas are not capitalized, so to say, by recorded language.

The women always occupied the coldest place at the camp
fire—that next the entrance to the lodge. They performed the
labor of making and caring for the camp and of dressing skins,
the latter no inconsiderable task, as nearly everything made
and used by these people is of caribouskin or birch. The
women did not often cut the firewood or haul in the game
which the men killed. This work was almost always done by
the children.

A harmless lunatic, who wandered about the camp with star-

1 American Anthropologist,Vol. VI, p. 151.

2 See p 31, ante.

3 “ Chose admirable, ces hommes de la nature ou des dispositions naturel-
les qui leur permettent de saisir promptement ce qu’on leur enseigne: en
moins de trois semaines un grand nombre savaient lire et écrire.” Farand,
Henri, Dix-huit ans chez les Sauvages, Paris, 1866, p. 89.

160 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

ing eyes and dishevelled hair, was always greeted with jeers. A
hunchback, of apparently vicious disposition, was silently
ignored, though he seemed to be in fear of even the boys.

Population. The officers of the company, of whom I inquired
concerning the Indian population, were of the opinion that the
number of inhabitants had not materially changed during the
past twenty years.

I am indebted to Mr. J. S. Camsell for the following census
which was prepared for the Canadian Government.

POPULATION OF THE MACKENZIE RIVER DISTRICT.

MEN. WOMEN. BOYS. GIRLS. TOTAL. June ’81. 1858,

Rampart House, . . 37 39 39 49 164 286
La Pierre’s House,. . 32 39 49 48 168 286
McPherson, . . . . 99 107 138 III 455 351 337
Good Hope, . . . . 162 157 97 131 547 583 467
Norman,. . . . . . 86 74 82 82 324 254 363
acted ee 8, 2 es a BO 39 58 31 oa 500 745
impson, ..... 44 76 45 39 234
Liard,. . 2 ay ras ZO. 54 53 42 219 ee 307
Nelson, Soe oe ee BG 54 66 50 224 209
Providence, . . go go 139 117 436 456
Raé; « 2 « s «© » » 168 188 176 179 411 615 657

708 917-4942, 879 3646 3851 2966

It will be seen that this vast area is but thinly populated. It
is not probable that their relations with the traders will have
any material effect upon their numbers. The inhabitants of
the trading stations during the winter of ’93—’94 were upon the
verge of starvation themselves, and certainly could not have
relieved the natives in case of famine. The use of improved
firearms insures the extermination of the game birds and mam-
mals of the country, so that the ultimate destiny of the North-
ern Athabascans is to become fishermen.

Lodges. The caribouskin lodge! is supported by a frame-
work of twelve to thirty poles. In pitching camp in winter,
sticks are thrust through the snow in order to find solid earth
for a floor; if the stick enters soft moss the place is avoided, as
the camp fire would spread and undermine the lodge. When
a suitable site is found the men clear away the snow with their

1 See p. 25, ante.

THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS I61

snow-shoes and perhaps assist the women in cutting and carry-
ing the lodge-poles. It is the women’s duty to carry bundles
of spruce boughs with which to cover the floor of the lodge.
The brush is laid carefully, branch by branch, so that the stems
are under the tops and point away from the center. This floor
is renewed every Saturday afternoon. The fireplace is sur-
rounded by a pole of green wood, three or four inches in
diameter, cut so as to be bent in the form of a polygon. Above
the doorway a pole eight feet long is lashed to the lodge-poles
in a horizontal position, six feet from the ground; this, and a
similar one on the opposite side, supports from six to ten
poles, crossing above the fire, making a stage on which to thaw
and dry meat. Each hunter’s powder-horn and shot-pouch is
suspended from a lodge-pole at his back, his gun stands in its
cover against a pole or lies on a stage outside. Near the door-
flap are several hungry and watchful dogs, which, by constantly
running in and out, make an opening for the cold wind to
enter. The dogs are tied at night to prevent their pilfering;
one end of a stick, three feet long, is tied to a lodge-pole, the
other end is provided with a thong long enough to pass around
the dog’s neck; this manner of fastening prevents them from
gnawing the line and setting themselves free. The side of the
fire next the entrance is allotted to the children and visiting
women. On either side sit the wives, for there are usually two
families in one lodge. Behind them are muskimoots and an

inextricable confusion of rags, blankets, bones, meat, etc. Ifa -

crooked knife, a tea bag, or anything that is in the heap is
needed, everything is tumbled about until it is found; nothing
seems ever to be lost. The sled wrapper is extended behind
the lodge-poles and serves as a catch-all for stores of meat,
bones to be pounded and boiled to extract the grease, and odds
and ends not in constant use. The next space is occupied by
the men of the house, that farthest from the door is reserved
for the young men and the men guests. At night each adult
rolls up in a single three-point blanket, or a caribouskin robe,
and sleeps on an undressed caribouskin. A piece of an old
blanket generally covers the small children in a bunch.
Migration. The natives dependent upon the Barren Ground
caribou for subsistence, not only follow them in their annual
migrations, but are changing their hunting ground in conse-

II

162 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

quence of the general eastward movement of the game. The
Slaveys, who formerly killed large numbers of caribou between
the Mackenzie and Rae, are now compelled to live principally
upon fish, and when these fail, as they did during the winter
that I spent in the country, they are reduced to actual starva-
tion. The score or two of Slaveys whom I saw at Providence
were dirty, thievish and poverty stricken.

The recently established trade in robes has caused the musk-
ox to be driven out into the Barren Ground until they are
almost beyond the reach of the Dog Ribs. Several bands of
this tribe have therefore moved along the lake shore, into and
beyond the territory occupied by the Yellow Knives.

The disappearance of the caribou from the neighborhood of
Good Hope and Norman has caused the Indians to withdraw
to a greater distance from the trading stations, and a few, such
as Naohmby, have encroached upon the Dog Rib hunting
grounds. An Indian made his appearance at Rae on the first
of February who had attended the Christmas feast at Norman.
He had come by the way of the Great Bear and Marten Lakes.

The various bands seem to be more restricted in their move-
ments than before the advent of the traders, if we may judge
by the accounts of Hearne. This is due to their intercourse
with the traders, to whom they are always bound by “debt,”
and especially to the influence of the missionaries.

Religion. Nearly all the Indians of Mackenzie District are
nominally christians. The Trout Lake, numbering forty hunt-
ers, and some other Western Indians still adhere to the faith
of their fathers, whatever that may have been. Those profess-
ing christianity are either Episcopalians or Roman Catholics.
The Dog Ribs are very strict in their observance of the outward
forms of the Catholic Church. No meal was ever eaten in my
presence, during a two months’ residence among them, with-
out grace being repeated in concert, and it sometimes required
a strong effort of the imagination to see anything to be thank-
ful for. The Sunday services were very ceremonious functions
which always terminated in a feast whenin camp. If traveling,
prayers were said before the day’s journey was begun. They
displayed heroic faith when they knelt in the snows of the Bar-
ren Ground to offer up prayers with chattering teeth, shifting
their rosaries with half frozen fingers. In their hymn and

THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS 163

prayer books they carried from one to a dozen cards and photo-
graphs which, even if they were all exactly alike, were carefully
spread out upon the blanket before their possessor before the
service began.

One effect of the introduction of christianity has been to
abolish polygamy. I heard of but one Dog Rib—rejoicing
under the euphonious name of Buggins—who had more than
one wife. Several women are said to have been left to die of
starvation as the result of the too abrupt introduction of the
new order of things.

Many of the old superstitions still obtain. When moving our
camp at the edge of the Barren Ground,a two days’ trip, two of
the young women were forced to break new tracks with their
snow-shoes in the soft deep snow, several yards from the trail.
How such a senseless and cruel custom could have arisen, much
less be perpetuated under the eyes of the missionaries, it is dif-
ficult to understand, as the monthly recurrence of their condi-
tion causes a great deal of unnecessary hardship, owing to their
journeys in the pursuit of caribou.

Provision. The Company’s posts are built upon the shores of
the lakes and rivers at points where fish may be obtained in
large numbers. Only sufficient flour is imported to allow the
officer in charge and his family from two to four hundred
pounds, and the engaged servant but one hundred pounds, a
year. Dried fish or dried caribou ribs are kept for the use of
the men while traveling, and frequently as the regular ration
when the fishery fails. Fresh meat is the most desirable pro-
vision, for which the Indian receives a fair price. Pounded
meat, grease (marrow, tallow and bone grease), tongues,
beaver tails and moose muffles, are not traded so much as for-
merly. The Indians say,when questioned,“You do not give us
your good things, so we will eat our choice food ourselves.”
While at the Dog Rib camps at the edge of the Barren Ground,
I saw large quantities of pounded meat, grease, and tongues
eaten, and all was hospitably shared with me, yet they refused
to sell any of these luxuries if carried away from the camp.
Though they were offered a high price, they did not bring one-
fourth of the grease needed at Rae during the winter of 1893-4.
The Indians when visiting the trading stations are lodged in the
cabins of the métis servants, to whom they bring considerable

164 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

quantities of their best provision,“to show how well the Indian
lives.”

Syrup. A very inferior quality of syrup is made at many
posts from birch sap. I found but one entry in the Rae journal
regarding the date,—May 2oth, 1885, “Syrup makers off to
gathersap.” The camp is about three miles east of the station;
the sap is collected in birch rogans which are made on the spot
and kept there en cache during the winter.

Leaders. Hearne’s remarks regarding the influence of the
chiefs of the Northwest Indians of a hundred and twenty years
ago, are equally true today: ‘It is an universal practice with
the Indian leaders, both Northern and Southern (Athabascan
and Cree), when going to the Company’s Factory, to use their
influence and interest in canvassing for companions; as they
find by experience that a large gang gains them much respect.
Indeed, the generality of Europeans who reside in those parts,
being utterly unacquainted with the manners and customs of the
Indians, have conceived so high an opinion of those leaders,
and their authority, as to imagine that all who accompany them
on those occasions are entirely devoted to their service and
command all the year; but this is so far from being the case,
that the authority of those great men, when absent from the
Company’s Factory, never extends beyond their own family;
and the trifling respect shown them by their countrymen, dur-
ing their residence at the factory, proceeds from motives of
interest.”!

The first camp to which I went with Johnnie Cohoyla con-
tained forty men but no leaders. They were to engage in the
musk-ox hunt in small bands, and that being the greatest com-
mercial venture of the year would, it might be presumed, cause
them to accompany their chiefs upon the hunt. Yet when ‘Jim-
mie the Chief” visited the camp, seeking to induce more hunters
to join his party, but two men would accompany him, making
but ten in all, with the most respected of the Dog Rib leaders.

Still the chiefs themselves strive to increase their prestige;
the gratuities from the traders are liberally shared with their
followers, and the most eloquent begging is kept up as long as
they remain at the post. None but a successful hunter need
aspire to the hand of a chief’s daughter. Mr. Hodgson, being

1 Hearne, Yourney, p. 288.

THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS 165

desirous of obtaining a musk-ox’s head, asked a Dog Rib, whom
he had heard was a good hunter, if he could kill a caribou.
The Indian, not understanding the humor of his question, did
not deign to reply. “ Do you think you could kill a musk-ox?”
Drawing himself up he replied, “You do not seem to know
me. I married the daughter of the chief Rebesca.”

The principal Dog Rib leaders at Rae were Jimmie, Rebesca,
and Naohmby, while Beniah, Little Crapeau, Dry Geese, and
Castor traded at Resolution, to which the Yellow Knives also
resorted under the leadership of Zinto, Zyena, Black Head and
others.

Language. When at Rae,I prepared a list of six hundred
words of which I wrote, phonetically, the Dog Rib equivalent,
as interpreted by Henry Cadien, a métis freeman, who had
been at one time the fort interpreter. It is an exceedingly
difficult language to express with the Roman characters; nasals
and aspirates abound; when separated I could easily indicate
the proper sound, but combined, and with a burring R added,
I found difficulty in pronouncing and still greater difficulty in
writing the sounds. At Providence, Joseph Bouviar, the post
interpreter, translated the same list into Slavey. Kenneth
Stewart, a Scotch métis at McPherson, acted as interpreter in
preparing a Loucheux vocabulary. Owing to so many sources
of error in their preparation, notwithstanding the time and
care bestowed upon them, I prefer to defer the publication of
these vocabularies in the hope that I will have opportunity to
again visit the country where the dialects are spoken.

Calendar. From the missionaries the Dog Ribs now obtain
slips of paper on which the days are marked in vertical lines,
and every seventh day with a cross. The days are pricked
off as they pass, with a needle, on this primitive calendar, which
is in the keeping of their leaders. They differ among themselves
as to the names applied to the months.

January, Et-se s& Cold sun.
February, Nit-se sa Small wind sun.
March, Nit-se-cha sa Big wind sun. [up sun.?

April, Win-di-thi-che-ko s4 When the dogs travel with tails

1 We travel far between sleeps in the spring when the days are long and
the dogs go well.

166

May, Ne-wik-iin sa
Sune, Wen-a-ki sa

July, Weén-a-chy-ko® sa
August, Wén-at sa

[or]
WeEn-di-e-in-e-ti sa
September, Wén-a cha sa
October, FEk-ola-chin-co sa
November, Wén-de-to® sa
December,

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Sore eyes sun.

Egg sun.

When the wing feathers are
moulted sun.

When the caribou enter the
woods sun.

When the berries are ripe sun.

When the caribou are abundant
in the woods sun.

Paddle shoulder sun.

(Alluding to the practice of striking a scapula
against trees in luring moose at this season.)

When the ice sets fast sun.

SLAVEY NAMES OF THE MONTHS.

January, ¥:-toz-in-e-cho-ke sa New-year’s sun.
February, Ni-tsya sa Small wind sun.
March, Té-to™ sho sa Eagie sun.
April, Ni-tsya-cho sa Big wind sun.
May, Be-ken-ot-o-to-ni-no"-ta sa The geese arrive sun.
June, Chi-mé-ab-é-ya sa Ducks are laying sun.
July, Bék-ké-chi-é-yd-tén-né-ti sa. Berries ripen sun.
August, Colo"-ye-kén-ak-e-ne-i-a- sa Moose rutting sun.
September,
October, Thlu-i-ka-tse-de-ti sa Fishery sun.
November,
December,
NUMERALS.
DOG RIB. SLAVEY. 7 LOUCHEUX.

%, Tan-dizé Be-ki-zin Tén-jer.

z, In-klai-i The-i-ga Tq-lik.

2, Na-ki Un-ké Ni-kig.

3, Ta-i Ta-yé Ti-ak.

4, Ding Ti0-ghé Tan-ki.

5, Sind-la-i Sa-stind-l4-é Klo-hiin-dé,

6 U2-ke-to®

* ( Ek-e-ta-i Tsin-ta-é Ni-ki-tik.
7, Et-la® ding Thant-ti?g Dit-zi-ha-tsi-ne-ki

Ut-ke-ditg
Ek-e-ditg

“|

Et-sand-titg

Nik-é-ta".

THE NORTHERN ATHABASCANS 167

DOG RIB. SLAVEY. LOUCHEUX.
\ U2-]oN-ton
* Vinklaiiule — Thie-i-ulé U9-trii-to-kwa.

zo, Hé-ne-no

Zz, H6-ne-no-o"-dé4-tsin-in-klai-i

r2, Ho-ne-no-o"-da-tsin-n4-ki

20, Na-ki-ho-ne-no
Zoo, In-kl4-tén-ni-lé-kwu-ni-k&-ho-ne-no

GEOGRAPHICAL.
DOG RIB.

Willow River, near Rae, Kai-i-ta-ni Te
Jackfish River, near Rae, Un-te Te

Coppermine River, Tso" Te

Yellow Knife River, Be-vwu-lé Te

White Rock River, Kwém-be Te
JSackfish Lake, Un-ta-ki Tw’

Little Jackfish Lake, Un-te-é Tu’

Marten Lake, So® Tu’

Bear's Shoulder Lake, Sa-ko®-to® Tw’

Rae, Ni-cé-kw’ Island Hill Post.
Providence, Ya-ti Priests.
Resolution, Tén-ni-du-a Moose Island.
Simpson, Eth-i-tlin-ku’ The Forks Post.
Smith, Kwém-ba-cha Big Rapids.
Chippewyan, Ka-i-te-ku® Willow Ground.

SLAVEY.

Mackenzie River,1Tén-di-ci-cho
Slave River, Tendoykua-cotega tendethy

Peace River, Tsa-o-ti ni

McPherson, Ta-tla-ku End of the World Post.
Good Hope Ka-tco-o-ti-ne ku Arctic Hare Indian Post.
Norman, Sa-tco-tu-e-ku Big Bear Lake Post.
Liard, A-tco-tén-ku Trout Lake Indian Post.
McMurray, Té-tco-ku Rapids Post.

1Compare Petitot, “Carte,” etc. In the Dialect of the Providence
Slaveys, Dis-nedhe-yare. The Wrigley Slaveys, T’i-kka. The Hares,
Nakotsia-kotcho. The Loucheux, Nakocho-ondyiz.

CHAPTER X

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL SECURED IN THE
HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY’S TERRITORY

HIS list includes several specimens not made by the In-
dians, but all of which are typical of those used in the Fur
Country, exclusive of the northern border where the Eskimos
have arts peculiar to themselves. With the exception of the
deservedly much-praised birch-bark canoe and the birch flat
sled, it is believed that every article! of Dog Rib manufacture,
of any consequence, is included in this list. They use gill nets,
unrepresented in the collection, but they are made by the women
after the manner taught them by the métis voyageurs. They
are almost without arts, and lead a wandering life which pre-
vents the accumulation of any considerable amount of property.
One industry, at least, that of dressing skins, has been fairly well
developed, as naturally might be expected in a country where
so many skins are absolutely necessary for their protection.
Caribouskin Lodge. The collection contains a skin lodge
from Rae, which was made for the chief Naohmby. It is made
from the dressed skins of forty caribou. It is 13 feet in cir-
cumference at the top and 57 feet at the bottom. It is 12 feet
from the top to the base. When carried it is rolled in two
rolls so that the middle, opposite the open side, may receive a
pole in the loop at the top with which to raise the rolls in posi-
tion against the cone around which they are unrolled in setting
up the lodge. The free edges overlap and are made fast by
thongs 4 feet long. The two wings at the margin of the smoke
hole are shifted, according to the direction of the wind, by two
poles resting against the outside of the lodge. It is much
easier to enter a Cree lodge than to scramble into that of the

1A dog harness, a general description of which is given in the narrative,
p- 16, is included in the collection.

168

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 169

Dog Rib, through the opening made by lifting the lower edge
at the point where the sides meet. The two circular seams are
usually marked by a red ochre band, an inch wide. The upper
part of the lodge is soon blackened by smoke and soot. Besides
the opening at the top, 3 feet in diameter, ventilation is secured
by means of the innumerable grub holes with which the skins
are perforated.

Clothing. The adoption of the costume of civilized man has
not been a hygienic success. The women wear light print
dresses which are a poor substitute for the warm skin clothing
of former times. A few gowns of dressed leather are still worn
by the Dog Rib women, and both sexes wear capotes of cari-
bouskin in the hair while traveling in winter.

Nearly all children under ten years of age are insufficiently
clothed. I saw Dog Rib urchins in midwinter playing outside
the lodges or gathering fuel while literally half naked. The
younger ones frequently complained, though the older ones
seemed as happy and contented as those of warmer climates.
The young men are more fastidious in the matter of dress, and
wear more beads, quills, silk, and feathers than do the young
women, and, I may add, are more cleanly. The Northern In-
dians are neither so well clothed nor so well housed as are the
Eskimos; the latter manufacture waterproof boots and frocks
while the former have no form of foot wear except the mocca-
sin which is wet at all seasons; and from the rain they have no
protection whatever.

Hunting Frocks. These are common among the Crees and
Athabascans. They are also worn by the métis, by whom they
are elaborately decorated with porcupine quills, ribbons, beads,
and silk embroidery. There is a mooseskin frock, No. 10,914, in
the collection, from McPherson, which was made by a Loucheux
woman. It is short in the skirt and sleeves and broad across
the shoulders. There are two pairs of thongs, at the throat and
breast, by which it may be closed; it broadly overlaps at the
waist where it is confined by the belt. The front is hemmed
with black cotton cloth backed by a narrow red ribbon. The
shoulders are occupied by epaulets of black and green cloth,
with a margin of caribou leather fringe whipped at the base with
red and purple porcupine quills. The fringe encircles the arms
at the shoulder and extends across the back. The sleeve hasa

170 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

single button at the wrist. This frock is 32 inches long, 26
inches across the shoulders, 54 around the waist, and 20 around
the neck. The sleeve is 21 inches long. It has been worn and,
owing to the method of tanning, has a strong smoky odor.

Leather Gown. The collection contains but one, No. 10,850,
which was worn by a Dog Rib woman, the wife of Johnnie
Cohoyla. It is of dressed caribou leather made up in a polo-
naise. The only cloth used is in the belt, 1.5 inches wide, and
a velvet hem 0.5 in width. It is closed in front by a pair of
thongs at the throat and by three brass trousers buttons at the
waist. It is 48 inches long and 13 inches across the shoulders.
The sleeves are 16inches long. It is sewed with sinew and has
many rents and patches. It has been long worn and is covered
with dirt and grease. The skins of five caribou were used in
making it.

Capotes. Themen of the Dog Rib tribe wear capotes of cari-
bouskin, dressed with the hair on. These are usually made
from the skins of animals killed in early autumn, when the soft
summer pelage isatits best. No. 10,853, of winter caribouskin,
a typical specimen, was made for use upon the musk-ox hunt.
It is large enough to be worn over another capote by a man of
average size. The skins of three caribou were used in making
it; the largest one forms the back and hood; a second, cut in
halves, forms the sides, and the third the sleeves and front of
the hood; this last is a piece 3.5 inches wide at the top and
tapers to a point 26 inches below, the ends hanging free for 10
inches below the chin; it is double, the inner piece being turned
with hair inward to protect the face. This is the only lining
about the garment, and I know from experience that the bare
leather soon becomes cold and disagreeable against the neck
and face in severe weather. This capote is 3 feet long witha 21
inch sleeve. It is closed by two pairs of thongs and by the belt.

Caps. North of Athabasca Landing the usual head covering
of the Indian is his heavy hair, confined by a bandana hand-
kerchief in summer, which has replaced the hair or deerskin
headband of the past, or by the hood of his capote in winter.
A few wear hats obtained from the traders and others a“ birch
cap” of their own manufacture. I obtained one of these caps
from a Cree at Chippewyan. It is made of a band of birch-
wood 2.5 inches wide and 7.5 inchesin diameter. .It is covered

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL IVI

with coarse woolen cloth and lined with print. The sides are
ornamented with beads upon a background of dark red ribbon.
There are several black bead stars on the top to which is
attached, by a string 2 inches long, the figure of an animal cut
from heavy tin. Loosely tied around the outside is a piece of
cheesecloth intended to be drawn over the eyes to prevent snow-
blindness in spring. The wearer had used the crown for a
needle case. When at the Narrows of the Saskatchewan I
obtained a boy’s cap, No. 9,608, made of the skins from the
necks of five loons (Uvinator imber). It is lined with a piece of
white cotton cloth. Its owner was greatly pleased at receiving
a common cloth cap for it from the store.

Leggins. These are worn at all seasons by the métis and
Indian women and by the men in winter. The collection
contains a pair of women’s leggins, No. 10,897, from McPher-
son. Like nearly all others of that country, they are of blue
strouding and are ornamented by a double row of white beads
at the bottom and a zigzag pattern in blue beads above it.
There is a quarter inch hem of black cloth around the bottom
and extending half way up the outer side. They are 14 inches
long and 8 inches broad to the seam, which is 2 inches from the
margin. There is also a pair of men’s short leggins, No. 9,600,
from Isle a la Crosse. The beaded portion on the outside of the
leg extends nearly the whole length of the leggin. It is of black
broadcloth, nearly covered with beads in flower patterns, and
surrounded by a quarter inch hem of pale blue ribbon. There
are four tufts of narrow colored ribbons at the sides. The
piece is 14 inches long and 5 wide. The leggin is of navy blue
flannel, with a drawing-string of print at the top; it is 14 inches
long and 8.25 wide. A pair of garters, 17 inches long and 2.5
wide, was worn with these leggins. They are also braided and
have a rosette and lines and tassels at the ends of variegated
worsted. The typical men’s leggins reach above the knee and
are fastened by leather thongs to the belt. They are some-
times made of white strouds with a scarlet stripe along the
outer seam, but usually they are blue with the gray selvage at
the top, and have a narrow braided piece along the outer seam
below the knee. A pair of these pieces of beadwork, No.
10,898, from Good Hope, are of black velvet nearly covered
with beads. They are 12 inches long and 3.25 wide.

172 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Moccasins. These are worn by all of the métis and Indians
of the North; the whites in the country soon become accus-
tomed to their use and are loth to return to the hard and
cramping “English shoes.” They are all made after the same
general pattern; a single piece around the foot, a semi-elliptical
more or less ornamented piece over the instep, and a top of
light leather or canvas which folds around the ankle. They
are fastened bya pair of leather strings which draw around the
heel and pass two or three times around the ankle. Dressed
moose leather is the best material obtainable by the Northern
Indians for the manufacture of moccasins; caribou leather is
also used, especially by the inhabitants of the caribou country,
where few moose are to be found. The moccasin is certainly
the best form of foot wear for use in the fragile birch canoe or
for walking upon snow-shoes. But it is not a perfect protec-
tion for the foot, as the soft and flexible mooseskin will admit
water as readily as blotting paper, and then wear away rapidly
and stretch immoderately. Four or five pairs a day are some-
times required in tracking, and in spring traveling they are
soon cut to pieces by the ice, though they are sometimes pro-
tected by a sole made from the skin of a caribou’s leg with the
hair on. They are sewed with sinew thread, which is strong
and durable.

The collection contains a pair of moccasins, No. 10,835, of
caribou leather, which were made for use upon the musk-ox
hunt of the Dog Ribs in 1894. They are quite large, to admit
double blanket foot wrappings. The central piece is of scarlet
cloth without embroidery and bordered with narrow blue and
yellow tape. The top is of an inferior quality of leather.

I obtained a pair of slippers, No. 10,887, at McPherson, which
are of heavy moose leather smoked a dark brown. The central
piece is of blue strouding ornamented with a simple pattern in
beads and bordered with two rows of horsehair colored blue
and yellow. Around the tops is a strip of strouding, 1.5 inches
wide, free at the lower edge which is crenulated. These were
made after a métis pattern by the wife of the Eskimo interpreter.

There is a pair of “silk-worked moccasins,” No. 9,597, in the
collection from Grand Rapids, which is an excellent example
of métis art. The tops are of woodland caribouskin with a1
inch piece of white-tanned Barren Ground caribouskin inserted

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 173

in the seam. This is a common pattern, the insertion being
frequently a piece of bright colored cloth, variously toothed
or crenated at the free margin. The central piece is of white
leather embroidered with silk in a floral design. Around this
is sewn a four-ply braid of red and purple porcupine quills,
bordered with one roll of light red and two of aster-purple
colored horsehair. They are exactly alike but are worn as
rights and lefts, the flexible leather adapting itself to the foot
on the first wearing.

The collection contains a pair, No. 11,229, from Macleod,
made by a Piegan woman, which is of a different type. They
are of cowhide with canvas tops and strings. They are made
as rights and lefts. The soles are in two pieces. Along the
middle of the instep and the outer margin of the upper there
are a large number of beads arranged in geometrical patterns.
There is a double fringe of red and blue flannel around the tops.

Duffels. The Indians wear pieces of blanketing for socks, but
they sometimes obtain the loose, heavy woolen cloth known as
duffel. The fibre is straight and coarse, but the loose texture
makes it more suitable than blanketing for socks, mittens, etc.
The whites and métis use it exclusively. A pair of duffels in
the collection, No. 9,592, from Grand Rapids, are made in a
single piece sewed around one side and at the heel. Thereisa
broad tongue and no top,though this is usually made similar to
that of amoccasin. The Indians and poorer class of métis tear
the cloth in pieces a foot square and do not sew them at all.
This form of foot wrapping has the advantage that the points of
greatest wear may be shifted and the cloth does not become
threadbare and cold so quickly.

Mittens. The Indians protect their hands by mittens of
dressed leather lined with pieces of blanket, duffel, or rabbit-
skin and occasionally caribouskin with the hair inside. They
are worn with a line around the neck to hold them when the
hand is removed, as it frequently is in handling’ sled lines, dog
harness, and in shooting. They are always large, loose fitting,
and in severe weather afford insufficient protection. Those
worn by the métis and whites are longer in the wrist, and orna-
mented with ribbons, silk, and beads, besides fur trimming and
cords of variegated worsted. The collection contains a pair, No
10,834, from Rae, of moose leather lined with blanketing. They

174 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

are Io inches long by 6.5 broad. The thumb is 3 inches long
and 3 broad. They are hemmed with a 2 inch piece of stroud-
ing at the wrist.

Sash. There is a beaded sash in the collection, No. 9,635,
from Norway House. It is of black broadcloth, hemmed with
green braid and lined with drilling. The beads are arranged
in flower pattern, but with superior excellence and harmony of
colors. It is 44.5 inches long and 2.6 wide. The ends are pro-
vided with two light thongs each.

Carrying Straps. The collection contains two of these from
McPherson. They were made by métis women and are more
elaborately ornamented than those used by the Indians. One
of these, No. 10,900, is of caribouskin covered with black velvet,
with a quarter inch hem of blue cotton cloth. Itis ornamented
with six rows of white beads and a central band of colored ones
in alternate stars and circles. Along the lower margin are
short strings of large beads terminating in worsted tags. The
ends are furnished with brass belt fastenings obtained at the
store. It is 44 inches long and 2.75 broad.

The other strap, No. 1,090, is of mooseskin covered with blue
strouding with a plaid margin. The beadwork is in flower
patterns. The ends are provided with mooseskin thongs for
tying. It is 41 inches long, 3.3 wide in the middle, tapering to
2 inches at the end.

Dog Shoes. These are used in lake travel, late in winter,
when the sharp granular snow soon renders the dogs’ feet raw
and bleeding, or in spring when traveling upon the needle ice,
after the snow has disappeared. The collection contains a half
dozen shoes of caribouskin. They are simple bags, 8 inches
deep, and 5 inches across, rounding at the bottom and having
leather tying strings at the top. Common cloth, canvas or
leather is used, but all wear out rapidly or fill with ice and cause
so much suffering that many travelers discard them altogether.

Tobacco Pouches. Each of these contains flint, steel, touch-
wood, a small quantity of plug tobacco and a medium-sized
pocket knife. The “fire bag” is usually made of fine cloth or
velvet, ornamented with silk or beads.. The collection contains
one, No. 10,888, from McPherson, which is ornamented on both
sides by beads in flower patterns. The top has a double draw-
ing-string of worsted. This bag is 7 inches long and 6 broad.

CARRYING STRAPS,

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 175

Another, No. 10,889, from the same locality, is of black velvet
beaded upon both sides, closed by a silk drawing-string and
further ornamented by a silk thread around the bottom.

Specimen No. 10,891, is of a single swan’s foot. There is a
hem of cloth at the top, containing a drawing-string of three-
ply, braided wrapping twine. It is cloth lined and has been
used. I obtained this pouch from Rat Indians visiting Her-
schel Island.

I obtained a fire bag, No. 9,611, which is very old and much
worn, from an o]d Cree medicine man, on the Saskatchewan.
It is of broadcloth with a narrow margin of green ribbon and
white beads. The top is plain but the lower third of each side
is beaded with flower patterns in startling color combinations.
There isa closely clipped roll of variegated worsted at the bot-
tom, from which hang worsted tassels at the ends of short
thongs on each of which are strung three large blue beads. The
open top is furnished with a short loop of three-ply, braided
worsted, probably to hang it by when not in use, as it is then
kept closed by being drawn under the belt. It is 11 inches long
and 5.5 broad.

Shot Pouches. The collection contains one, No. 9,634, which
was made by a métis woman at Norway House. It is the best
specimen of the imitative flower pattern beadwork that I saw
in the North. It is of dark blue broadcloth with a sash 2.5
inches wide and 4 feet long, by which it was suspended so that
the lower part of the pouch passed under the belt which pre-
vented its contents from falling out and kept the pouch itself
in place. It is 10.75 inches long in the back, 7.5 in the front
and 6.5 broad. It is lined with light canvas. Both pouch and
sash are heavily beaded.

Fire Steel. Flints and steels for striking fire are still supplied
by the Company to the Northern Indians. Steels are com-
monly made by the natives from old files. I obtained a well
made specimen, No. 11,006, from a Chippewyan at Resolution.
It is rather heavier than common and has a short bit at the
open end to be used as a screw-driver.

The flints are imported. A specimen, No. 9,639, in the col-
lection, is a quadrilateral truncated pyramid, 1.25 inches long
by 1 wide. For touchwood the Indians use the hard fungus
from dead birch trees. They beg for matches at every oppor-

176 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

tunity, as they do not enjoy the experience of striking fire for
five minutes before getting the pipe alight, when the hands are
exposed to a temperature of 70° below zero.

Work Bags. There is one, No. 9,614, in the collection, from
Chippewyan, that is rather unique in design. It is of the skin
of four swan’s feet, two on each side, with a one inch strip of
mooseskin around the bottom. It is ornamented with tassels
of worsted attached by thongs covered with quills and beads.
It is g inches deep and to broad.

Drum. The collection contains one drum, No. 10,829, from
Rae. The frame is of birch wood, 0.5 of an inch in thickness,
2.1 wide and 14 in diameter. The ends are scarfed together
and lashed with babiche. It is provided with two babiche lines
crossing each other at right angles by which it is held when in
use. The head is of caribouskin parchment. It contains one
grub hole and two cuts which have been sewed. It is fastened
near the rear margin of the frame by babiche, which passes
through holes which are in pairs at intervals of an inch and
a half, and over a band passing around the head. There are
three snares, two of twisted babiche, and a central one of thong.
The head is tightened by heating. The stick, which I saw used
for weeks before I obtained the drum, is a worm-eaten fir
branch with a slight natural curve. The bark is partly removed,
but the ends are broken and rough. It is 12 inches long and
0.5 in diameter.

Sinew. The thread used in sewing moccasins and most of
the leather garments of the country is made from the broad
sinews of the back of the caribou. This is dried and the fibres
separated and twisted by the palm of the hand upon the knee
until a thread is formed of convenient length for use. The
rough sinew is usually carried and a small quantity of thread
made as it is used, or it is made in quantity and kept loosely
braided in plaits. A bundle of sinew, No. 9,636, in the collec-
tion from Grand Rapids, is of pale straw color. The threads
are from 20 to 24 inches long and somewhat larger than
coarse linen thread. One end tapers from about 6 inches to a
fine point which is used in lieu of a bristle in sewing with an
awl, a needle being seldom used. At present the only needles
in the country are the ordinary imported glovers’ needles.

Canoes. The collection contains but one model, No. 9,621,

DOG RIB WHIP. MOCCASINS. RATTLE FOR LURING CARIBOU. DRUM AND DRUM STICK.
ECAGOO. GAME BAG. NEEDLE FOR THE MANUFACTURE OF FISH NETS.

CREE MANITO PAUGUK. CREE SHOT POUCH, NORWAY HOUSE,
GRAINING TOOL, DOG RIBS, RAE.

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 177

of the Indian birch-bark canoe. It contains but a single piece
of bark so that the seams between the sections of the large
canoes are not represented. It is sewed at the ends and top
with wattap which is 0.2 inch wide and so closely placed that
there is no space between the turns except upon the curved
ends. There is a light and roughly made gunwale nailed on
outside the wattap binding. It is lined with spruce which com-
pletely covers the bark on the inside. There are ten ribs, rather
roughly made. A thin upright piece at each end cuts off a
short space next the stem and stern. It is gummed atthe ends
as high as the water line only. There are two paddles with
the canoe, which are of spruce, 23 inches long and 1.8 wide.
The blade is nearly as long as the handle; it is flat upon one
side and convex upon the other; the end is sharpened at an
angle of 45 degrees.

Skin Scrapers. There are four instruments in the collection
which have been used in dressing skins; three are to be used
with one hand and one is double-handled. No. 11,548 repre-
sents the type that is most used. It is a graining tool made
from the tibia of a moose, rounded off with an ax and obliquely
cut to a sharp edge just above the distal enlargement. This
edge is 1.5 inches across and contains 13 teeth. Attached to
the dried ligaments of the proximal end is a mooseskin thong
which forms a loop which prevents the hand from slipping
down the shaft. This specimen was obtained at the Grand
Rapids of the Saskatchewan and is almost identical with No.
10,838 from Rae.

There is a scraper, No. 11,228, of the same pattern from the
Piegan Indian reservation near Macleod. It is of iron covered
on the handle with cowhide.

The beaming tool, No. 11,547, from Grand Rapids, is a tibia
with one side of the shaft cut away leaving a sharp edge. It is
used as is a drawing knife, the broad ends serving as handles.
When using this scraper the skin is stretched over a short,
smooth log, six or eight inches in diameter.

Ladles. These are made of musk-ox or mountain sheep horn.
Before the hunt in the spring of 1894, there were but two in the
camp of six lodges, but after we returned each family was pro-
vided with one or two, so that I supposed them to be lost or
thrown away during their migrations when everything not abso-

12

178 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

lutely necessary to their existence is abandoned. No. 10,842
was made by one of our party from a horn of the the first musk-
ox killed. It was carved out with a crooked knife; being kept
hot while it was worked by boiling or by holding over the fire.
It is 8 inches long, the bowl being 4.5 long by 2.3 wide with
sides 0.1 inch in thickness.

Gun Cases. All the Northern Indians have a covering of cloth
or leather for their guns. These are usually of either moose or
caribouskin, ornamented with fringes of quill worked leather
strings, beads and bands of porcupine quills. The case is not
fastened in any way and may be readily slipped off so that it is
kept upon the gun until the hunter is about to shoot. Not
unfrequently a wing shot is lost by the gun cover catching on
the hammers in the excitement of the moment. I obtained a
well-worn specimen, No. 10,839, from the Dog Ribs. It is of
caribou leather, 52 inches long, g inches across the larger end,
2 atthe other. It is made of two pieces with a single seam
along the side sewed with heavy sinew. It is not ornamented
save by a few tags of caribouskin at the smaller end. Itis old,
torn and a poor cover even for an Indian to carry.

There is another case, No 1,090, which was made by a Trout
Lake Indian woman, who had seen white people but on one or
two flying visits to Providence. It is of mooseskin, well made
and tastefully decorated. The butt is eight inches across and
ornamented by two bands of porcupine quills, worked with a
neat geometrical pattern in four colors and edged with beads.
It is gathered over the hammer by another broad band of quills,
and tapers slightly in the barrel to the muzzle which is sur-
rounded by quills and terminated by a number of moose leather
strings, 10 inches long, whipped at the base with quills. A simi-
lar but shorter fringe of caribouskin is sewed under each band
of quills. A half inch strip of strouding extends along the seam
from the muzzle to the band six inches from the butt.

Game Bags. The various tribes of Athabascans use a game
bag of their own manufacture, which is everywhere of the same
pattern. It is woven from small babiche with an open mesh so
that the snow will fall through and it is at the same time very
light and strong. A line attached at the top passes across the
points of the shoulders and the breast when carrying a load.
No. 10,831 was obtained from the Dog Ribs. It is 20 inches

GUN CASE, TROUT LAKE INDIANS, PROVIDENCE.
GAME BAG, HARE INDIANS, GOOD HOPE.

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 179

long and 11 deep. The front is made with eight bands of open
work, each a half inch in width and stained black or red. The
ends are of dressed leather, 2.5 inches wide. The back has five
bands of open mesh one inch apart. The top is of caribou
leather, 3 inches wide, with two sinuous lines of porcupine
quills, which are sewed on without the slightest attempt at
harmony of colors. There is a hem of blue strouding around
the top. Three thongs in front serve to close the bag by pass-
ing through loops in the back. The front is ornamented by
tags of colored worsted. The line attached to the end loops is
of four-ply babiche, two feet long.

A specimen made by the Hare Indians at Good Hope, differs
slightly in detail and is more decorated and with better taste.

Babiche. This is a line cut from a wet, partially dressed skin
and stretched and dried. Two women work together in cutting
babiche; one holds the skin and the line as it is cut; the other
draws the knife in long steady strokes, skilfully gauging the
width with her thumb. Two lines are usually cut together. A
caribouskin fairly riddled with grub holes may be quickly
transformed into a strong and serviceable line. The collection
contains several specimens of babiche, No. 9,638, and articles
made from it. No. 10,833 is a line used by the Dog Ribs in
lacing sleds, etc. It is of six-ply braided babiche, 0.4 inch wide
and 30 feet long. I sawa fewan inch wide and several fathoms
long and stained, but these were unusually large and they are
not usually colored. :

Deer Snare. These are now used as a last resort when am-
munition cannot be obtained. I saw but two in the country.
One of these, No. 10,839, is of three-ply twisted babiche.

Dog Whips. I purchased specimen No. 10,832 as a type of
the dog whip used by the Northern Indians. The stock is of
birch, a foot in length and 1 inch in diameter. There isa raised
section in the middle, marked with raised incised lines. The
handle is 4.7 inches long and enlarged at the end to prevent
its slipping through the hand. The outer end is flattened on
opposite sides to receive the broad thongs from the lash which
are seized with babiche in two circular grooves. The lash is
50 inches long and 0.3 inch in diameter. It is smoothly rounded,
ten-ply braid, and is loaded with shot. The cracker is 11.5
inches long of three-ply twisted babiche. Near the handle

180 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

there are eleven cylindrical tags of tin pinched upon the ends
of short thongs. These make a loud rattling noise which the
dogs recognize as a danger signal. I saw but one which was
more elaborately carved and this was unfortunately lost when
returning from the musk-ox hunt. The métis usually have a
large bunch of worsted on the handle to prevent the whip from
sinking from sight when dropped in soft snow. The whip is
usually carried with a bight of the lash drawn under the belt.

Rattle. <A child’s rattle is sometimes made by the Dog Ribs
of shot and caribouskin parchment. I obtained a specimen,
No. 10,827, which has a handle of birch bent in the form of an
elongated figure 6. It is 8 inches long. The head is 3 inches
in diameter and 0.8 inch in thickness.

Idol. Old Ooskanatchet, of the Narrows of the Saskatche-
wan, made a small image for me, which he said represented the
Cree death angel—the Pauguk, one of the most dreaded of the
heathen deities. The figure, No. 9,610, is of moose leather
stuffed with rags. The body and arms are sewed with a welt
which projects half an inch and is cut ina fringe. There is an
extra piece over each shoulder and a narrow apron in front, also
fringed. The head is a flat piece of birch wood with a hole
drilled through for a mouth and two leaden plugs for eyes; the
face is concave and the back of the head convex. The face,
shoulder and arm fringes and the middle of the legs are colored
a deep crimson, probably with a dye obtained from the trader.
The sides of the head are burned black with a hot iron.

Pipes. The Indians now use imported clay and wooden pipes
and only two stone pipes were seen in the North, both of which
were collected. One of these, No. 9,594, is of fine-grained
sandstone, discolored and darkened through long use. It is
ornamented with incised lines next the stem and with rows
of irregular circular depressions around the top and base of
the bowl. It is 2.3 inches deep and 1.4 inches across the top
of the bowl. The base is quadrangular, 1 inch across and 3
inches long. The stem is 16.4 inches long and 0.6 of an inch
in diameter.

The other, No. 9,632, is of fine grained schist with a brass
finger ring around the top of the bowl. It is well made but
without ornament except two incised lines upon one side of the
base. The bowl is 0.8 inches across the top and 2.3 inches deep.
The base is 1.7 inches long, 0.8 wide and 0.3 thick.

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 181

Ecagoo. There are two of these in the collection, both
obtained of Dog Ribs at Rae. I saw the same apparatus in use
among the Stoney Indians of Morley, and among the Slaveys}
at Providence. No. 10,844 consists of three small pieces of
bone rudely fashioned in hollow cones through which passes
a slender thread of twisted sinew. Each cone is 1.5 inches long
and 0.8 inch in diameter at the largerend. They are hollowed
at the base so that they fit into each other. The thread is six
inches in length and is attached to a strip of caribouskin at one
end. This leather is 4.5 inches long and has nine slits reaching
within half an inch of the ends and in which the point may catch
in throwing. The needle is of bone 2 inches long and 0.1 inch
in diameter. It is attached to the end of the thread which is
towards the base of the cones. In using the ecagoo the thumb
and forefinger grasp the end of the needle where it is enlarged
by the sinew seizing, and the whole is swung outward and up-
ward. The thread is just long enough to admit the point of
the needle into the base of the first cone, when they are crowded
into each other. The object to be attained is to pass the needle
through the center of the cones or a slit in the leather at the
top as the ecagoo falls. In gambling, a score is kept of the
points made. Johnnie Cohoyla, from whom I obtained this,
in the use of which he was an adept, said that the catching the
point in the slits scored one, on the first cone, five, in first and
second, ten, in all three, fifteen, and in second and third, twenty.
I saw it used in his camp as a gambling device, but elsewhere
merely as a child’s toy.

No. 10,847, differs from this only in having a wooden needle.

Snow-shoe Needle. These are made of bone or wood and are
used in lacing snow-shoes. A specimen in the collection from

1The Montagnais of Labrador have a similar apparatus which Hind de-
scribes as made of wood and resembling the nah-ba-wah-gun-nuk of the Ojib-
ways, which is constructed in the following manner: “The bones are made
from the hoof of the deer or caribou, and made to fit one within the other to
the number of 12, the one nearest the hand when the instrument is held for
play being the largest. The players agree upon the stakes which are
placed before them in the lodge, and one of them takes the bones and be-
gins to play. His object is to catch as many as he can on the needle or
skewer in a certain number of trials. The last bone, if caught singly in
one of the holes drilled through it, counts highest; if the tail is caught it
also counts next to the last bone.” The Labrador Peninsula, Vol. I, p.277.

182 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Grand Rapids, No. 9,612, is of bone. It is 5.6 inches long and
0.3 inch wide in the middle whence it tapers to a rather
sharply pointed end. The babiche passes through a hole in
the center.

Rabbit Snares. The northern hare is taken in snares made
of wrapping or netting twine. To avoid the exposure of the
hands, in setting them with slip knots to trip the spring, they
are provided with short sticks which act as levers. A typical
specimen, No. 9,617, is of wrapping twine 25 inches long with
a slip noose at the lower end and a loop at the upper to pass
over the end of the spring. The catch stick is 3 inches from
the loop and is 2.7 inches long by 0.25 in diameter. It is fas-
tened by a simple knot at each end.

Pack Saddles. The collection contains two frames from the
Piegan reservation near Macleod. One of these, No. 11,230, is
of two curved slabs of pine joined at the ends by strongly
arched sections of deer antler. The sides are 18.5 inches long
by 5.25 wide and curved to fit the back of the horse. They are
firmly lashed to the arches which rise 4 inches above them and
hold them 5 inches apart. The whole is covered with a single
pice of rawhide. The girth was attached to thongs passed
through two holes at each end of the side pieces.

Snow-shoes. There is a pair of small or “tripping” snow-
shoes in the collection, No. 10,826, from Grand Rapids. They
were intended for use on hard snow, either upon Lake Winnipeg
or in traveling behind a loaded sled through the bush. The
frame is of birch wood, 42 inches long and g wide. The sides
curve upward in front meeting ina point. Each piece is 0.8
inch wide and 1.25 inches deep. There are three bars; the
smallest serves to spread the frame at the upward curve; 7
inches back of this is the toe bar, which is 1.2 inches wide and
0.3 inch thick, with its edges well rounded. It is 12 inches
from this to the heel bar, which is somewhat smaller. The
sides are fastened at the rear by a single heavy screw, the
point of which is cut off flush with the surface. They are not
“rights and lefts;” such shoes are not met with among the
Wood Crees. Along the sides of the toe and heel spaces, a
pair of holes a half inch apart appear at intervals of 2 inches,
through which a strand of babiche is fastened in a simple knot
holding a tuft of colored worsted on the outside of the frame

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ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL | 183

and by the beckets on the inside affording attachment for the
lacings. The foot lacing is of heavier babiche, with a little larger
mesh, and passes at the sides around the frame which is wrap-
ped with print to prevent wearing on the sharp edges. The toe
hole is transversely oblong, 2.8 by 2.2 inches. The bridles on
its sides are of 5 strands of babiche loosely wrapped.

There is also a pair, No. 10,849, of hunting snow-shoes from
the same locality. They are 75 inches long and 15.5 wide. The
side pieces are oblong with their greatest width transverse in
front and vertical at the sides and rear. They curve upward
II inches in front where they meet in a point and are secured
by two strands of babiche through holes on the inner side.
They are not wrapped under the foot lacing. The holes along
the sides pass obliquely outward and meet at the outer surface
where they are closed by wooden pins. There are 5 bars, 2 of
them supporting the frame in front of the toe bar. The toe hole
is 4.2 inches wide, bordered by bridles of 4 strands carelessly
wrapped. The upper surface of the bars and of the rounded
point of the frame are dyed purple. These are typical speci-
mens of the snow-shoes used by the Crees.

The pair of Loucheux snow-shoes, No. 10,848, in the collec-
tion is by far the most skilfully made of any that I have seen
in the North. They are 61 inches long by 12.5 wide. The sides
curve upward, but are broadly rounded in front and meet ina
long lap-splice. The side pieces are elliptical, flattened in sec-
tion, 1.1 inches in their greatest vertical diameter by 0.8 in the
transverse. The side holes meet within the side strips and do
not pass through,except at the foot lacing which passes through
5 holes. The beckets of the toe and heel lacing are short—1.5
inches, and the babiche used is very small. An incised line ex-
tends from end to end above the lacing. The foot lacing con-
sists of 6 heavy transverse strands of babiche, the first 2 of
which are gathered together behind the toe hole, and of 2 bri-
dles of 5 strands neatly whipped, from toe to heel bar. Single
strands of babiche, parallel with the frame, fill the rest of the
space. There is a single strand of fine babiche passing along
the middle of the toe and heel lacing; along this are oval spots
colored, as is the entire framework, with red ochre.

Amulets. While with the Dog Ribs I noticed two bunches of
antler points which were carried while hunting caribou, either

184 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

through a superstitious belief in their aiding the wearer or to
be used as rattles, as a piece of birch or deer’s scapula some-
times is, to lure deer or moose within range of the hunter’s rifle.
Not without difficulty I secured a specimen, No. 10,846, which
had been carried by Johnnie Cohoyla. It contains 4 points, 6
inches in length, which have been roughly cut from the antler
with anax. The tips are held within an inch of each other by
sinew threads tied ina deep circular groove; these lines are
braided together a distance of 2 inches and attached to the mid-
dle of a birch stick 2 inches long which is passed under the belt.

In addition to the specimens here described, the collection
contains a number of articles which I obtained at Grand Rapids.

3 Stone pipes Us-si-mi-us-pwa-giin
I Clay pipe Wa-pe-tu-nisk us-pwa-giin
2 Skin scrapers Miq-ki-kwiin
1 Flat skin scraper Pisk-wit-hi-kiin
Shot Sin-i-é
1 Pan Pi-we-bis wi-na-giin
Fire steel A-pét
3 Buttons Sa-go-pa-siin-iik
Touchwood Pu-sa-giin
Knife Mo-ko-m4n, Kichi-mo-ko-m4n

(Big Knife, name given to ‘‘ Americans ’’—citizens of the United States.
Compare the Athabascan Bischo.)

Canoe model Wisk-wai-che-man

2 Paddles E-pu-i

7 Rogans Wisk-wai-in-e-kim
Birch cups Wisk-na min-ik-wd-giin
Flat sled Nuik-yi-ti-pan-ask

6 Books printed in syllabic characters.
5 Letters written by Cree children.

Duffels, cradle, thread, moccasins, snow-shoe needle, netting
needle, dressed skins.

MetTuHops oF DRESSING SKINS EMPLOYED BY
THE Woop CREES.
Moose. In former times, when the Indian was an unre-

strained carnivore, moose might be had for the killing. Now
they are becoming rare, though Grand Rapids is one of the

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 185

posts at which they are sufficiently numerous to furnish all the
leather needed in that locality.

With no other tools than a knife and the leg bones of the
animal killed, and no other tanning agent than its brain, an
“old wife” can convert a green mooseskin, weighing fifty
pounds, into light serviceable leather in five days. The finished
product is soft and pliable, nearly as thick though far inferior
in wearing quality to cowhide.

The process, though simple, requires a good deal of labor.
The fresh skin is trimmed and stretched in an oblong frame, 8
or 10 feet across, which is made by lashing four poles together.
Every particle of flesh is then scraped or rather gouged from
the inside. This is done with a graining tool made from a leg
bone by cutting off one end and sharpening the shaft. This
instrument applied for a few minutes to a green hide by a skil-
ful “old wife,” will save the future taxidermist hours of labor
with the steel scraper.

When the skin is half dried the hair is scraped off. A horn
or bone instrument may be used for this purpose, though the
skins which I have seen dressed were trimmed with an adze
made from an old hatchet blade, set transversely in a clumsy
wooden handle which was about 18 inches in length.

The skin may now be dried as parchment and used in making
carioles, etc.; if it is to be made into leather it is sprinkled with
a little oil. Fish oil is preferred as it is most readily absorbed.
It is then smoked slightly on the outside and soaked over night
in water containing the brains of an animal from which the skin
was taken, or from any other freshly killed. It is soaked the
next day in water, then pulled before the fire until dry and soft.
Finally the leather is smoked over a fire of rotten wood, until
it takes on alight yellowish brown color; if ordinary dry wood
is used it becomes black instead of brown.

Deer. A deerskin is treated in a similar manner until it is
ready to be dried; it is thinned down by shaving on the grained
side. The instrument used is the beaming tool.!1 It resembles
a carpenter’s drawing knife but is pushed away from, instead
of drawn towards, the operator. While it is being scraped the
skin is held upon a peeled log which is 5 or 6 inches in diameter
and as many feet in length. The leather is made much thin-

1 See p. 177, ante.

186 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

ner and softer than that made from mooseskin. The hair is
usually removed from deerskin with a sharp knife after which
the flat scraper is used. It is then soaked in brain water and
hung out to freeze; when it softens a little it is taken in by the
fire and pulled. An iron hoop, in which teeth have been cut,
is hung on the wall by a line; the skin is then drawn back and
forth through the hoop and is occasionally warmed before the
fire during the process. If it is to be finished as white leather
it is hung out of doors until bleached to a snowy whiteness. It
is then smoothed with a piece of porous bone until it is soft
and velvety.

WOMAN'S DRESS, HERSCHEL ISLAND ESKIMOS.

CHAPTER XI

ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL OBTAINED FROM
THE ESKIMOS

HESE specimens were secured from the central Eskimos
who trade at McPherson, from Herschel Island natives,
and from the Western Eskimos, either directly or through the
kindness of the whalers. Such material has been sought after
so long and so persistently that the only wonder is that a single
genuine article of native manufacture and use remains. I was
without goods with which to purchase specimens, and in many
cases the prices demanded were exorbitant. The Eskimos made
many articles for sale after ancient patterns which are now no
longer used. Unless otherwise noted, the following brief de-
scriptions are of specimens which show unmistakable evidence
of their genuineness.

Clothing. The Eskimo costume is well suited to the needs of
its wearer. The whalers have adopted it, even for summer use.
Sealskin boots are supplied to every man before the mast, and
seal and caribouskin frocks are always in demand. The women
wear frocks with rounded skirts reaching to the knees and open
at the sides.

Frock. The collection contains a specimen, No. 10,905, which
was worn by a “‘Kosmollik” woman at Herschel Island. The
body of the garment is of plain brown caribouskin in the sum-
mer hair. A large proportion of the costumes of the Herschel
Island natives was of spotted Siberian reindeerskin, obtained
both by trade among themselves and from the whalers. The
hood is large but is not bagged at the nape for carrying a child.
Its sides are cut from the under parts of the skin, so that the
margin around the face and the V-shaped throatpiece on each
side is white, shading into dark brown behind. It is edged
with two strips of mountain sheepskin with the hair closely

187

188 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

trimmed. The inner strip is .25 and the outer .5 inch wide, with
bits of red and blue worsted, so small as to be scarcely notice-
able, sewed in between. The back of the hood contains a nar-
row pointed piece, continuous with the body of the garment
which is bordered by sheepskin. The front and back are each
in a single piece. Under the armpits lighter colored pieces
are inserted with tags of red worsted in the seams. The skirts
are bordered by four strips of sheepskin with worsted in the
seams, and trimmed with wolverine fur sewed to a half inch
strip of caribouskin, having the fur inside. The arms are short;
they are trimmed at the wrist by a half inch band of caribou-
skin. The seams, at the shoulders and elsewhere, are orna-
mented with a 3 inch fringe of caribouskin. The length in the
back is 38 inches, the front flap being 2 inches shorter. It is
23 inches across the shoulders and 20 at the waist. The sleeves
are 12 inches long and 7 wide. This is a rather plain dress
frock, but is much better than those in common use which are
lined with drilling or calico and worn with the fur side in.

Rain Frock. At Cape Tchaplin I obtained a specimen, No.
10,991, of the ‘‘ Massinker rain coat.” It is a frock made of seal
intestine, ornamented with narrow strips of the fur seal on the
shoulders and hood, and with the hair of the young seal sewed
upon the outside of the seams elsewhere. The hood is small
and close fitting. The sleeves are 13 inches long and 8 wide.
The strips of intestine are 4 inches wide and 6 feet long, the
garment being 3 feet across the waist. There are 8 breadths in
the front, making it 32 inches long. The wrists and skirt are
trimmed with white hair, apparently plucked from a polar bear-
skin. The seal hair is not continuous but interrupted every 3.5
inches by a clear space of I inch. This garment was obtained
from a wealthy young Tchukche, for whom it was more elabo-
rately trimmed than such garments usually are. It is very
light and flexible yet perfectly waterproof.

Trousers. Trousers are worn by the women both with and
without a continuous foot covering. Those worn by the men
are shorter and not attached to the boots. A pair of woman’s
pantaloons, No. 10,903, were obtained with the frock, No.
10,905, which are rather roughly made of winter caribouskin,
worn with the hair inside. They are lower behind than in front
and made to fit rather closely to the leg. The foot is unshapely

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 189

and intended to be worn inside of boots. The leg is in a single
piece ornamented along the outer seam with ten caribou leather
strings whipped with red and purple porcupine quills. With
the view to improve upon the appearance of this garment they
often wear tight-fitting red flannel drawers outside.

Mittens. The collection contains a pair of mittens, No. 10,908,
of polar bearskin, which were obtained at Herschel Island.
They were said to be used temporarily as brooms in brushing
away snow, with the long hair, rather than as a regular protec-
tion for the hands. They are short, unlined and without a con-
necting cord.

Boots. There are three pairs of boots in the collection, all of
which were made upon the Siberian coast. A pair from Cape
Tchaplin, No. 10,911, is of the common type used by the natives
in summer, hundreds of pairs of which are made for the whal-
ers. The soles are of heavy black sealskin roughly crimped
The leg is of more flexible sealskin with the hair removed, and
reaches above the calf where it is tied with a drawing-string of
seal thong. There is a pair of broad thongs sewed into the
seams on each side of the instep which pass through a loop on
each side of the heel and around the ankle and tie in front.

Another pair, No. 10,912, from the same locality, has legs of
sealskin in the hair which is worn outside. Hip boots are some-
times made of sealskin from which the hair has been removed.

I obtained a pair of dress boots, No. 10,910, which were made
at East Cape, Siberia. The sole is of white whaleskin neatly
crimped at the toe and heel. The leg is of Siberian reindeer-
skin in four pieces, those in front and rear being white with
oblique patches of brown at the top; the side pieces entirely
brown. Around the top of these is a band of marten fur 1 inch
in width, above which is a I inch band of caribouskin; the hair
of this is trimmed in two bands down to the skin between
which a strip of sealskin % inch wide, holding tags of red and
blue worsted, is sewed. At the top is a I inch band of dark
caribouskin which contains the drawing-string of seal thong,
which is about the size of common babiche. Between leg and
sole is a piece of red-tanned sealskin, 3 inches wide. The grain
side is out. The tie strings are of the same material. They
are I inch wide where they are sewed in above the red leather
and are 30 inches long.

190 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Buttons. A few buttons of native manufacture are still in
use. Specimen No. 10,908 will serve asatype. Itis of walrus
ivory, 1.75 inches in length. It is carved in the form of a whale
with four transverse lines across the outer face. There is a
slight projection on the back under which a hole has been
drilled for the sinew thread.

Labrets. The majority of the men among the American Es-
kimos west of Cape Bathurst wear these alleged ornaments.
While at McPherson my attention was attracted to one old
man, with long snow-white hair, who had his face disfigured
with an unusually large pair of marble labrets. The first man
whom we met west of the Mackenzie wore a large, very con-
spicuous labret with half of a large blue bead attached to the
marble flange and surrounded by a disk of walrus ivory 1.5
inches in diameter. The practice seems to be falling into disfa-
vor at Herschel Island, where several of the young men did not
have their lips pierced; others wore but one labret, ora part of
the time none. Several wore labrets made of glass stoppers,
with the heads ground down for flanges. Individuals wearing
one plug-shaped labret seemed to delight in shifting it with the
tongue from one side of the mouth to the other.

Specimen No. 11,028 is of the commonest type. It is of pol-
ished marble with a rounded head o.7 inch in diameter; the
flange is I inch long and 0.6 inch wide; it is curved slightly to
fit the jaw. This labret, purchased from the wearer, is almost
identical in size and shape with a very old pair from a grave at
Stokes’ Point.

Another specimen, No. 11,031, resembles the ancient single
labrets which are said to have been worn at Point Barrow. It
is of steatite, 2.2 inches long by 0.9 wide and 0.5 inch thick.!

Pipes. The collection contains eleven pipes of walrus ivory
and two with wooden stems. Those of ivory were probably
made for sale, as they habitually use pipes with metal or stone
bowls. A pipe from the Anderson River, No. 10,858, will
serve as a typical specimen. The stem is of birch wood, 12.5
inches long, I.1 in its greatest diameter and diamond-shaped in
section. It is of two pieces, one upon the other, firmly lashed
together with thong, which also secures the foot of the bowl.
There is no mouthpiece or picker. The bowl is of iron, 1.5

1 See Murdoch, John, Minth Ann. Rep. Bur. of Eth., p. 143.

SEER OEE oe

ESKIMO PIPES.

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL IgI

inches deep with an internal diameter of only 0.3 inch. The
slightly concave rim is of brass, 2 inches in diameter. This
pipe has been used, as has No. 11,003, which has a brass picker
for cleaning the bowl attached by a double line of braided
sinew. The mouthpiece is of ivory ornamented with grooved
rings. The stem is of a single piece of birch, the hole through
it having been drilled from both ends, meeting in an obtuse
angle in the convex lower side where the opening is closed by
a small piece of wood neatly inlaid. The larger end is closed
by a brass cartridge. The bowl is of hard greenish-gray stone.
This pipe was obtained at the Diomede Islands.

At present Herschel Island Eskimos use the clay or wooden
pipes obtained from the whalers. They have learned to smoke
cigarettes and the collection contains two carved cigarette hold-
ers of walrus ivory.

From a grave at Herschel Island a metal bowl, No. 10,952,
was obtained, which has a shank of lead, lined with copper,
anda copper ring aroundthe middle. The saucer is surrounded
by a thin band and its surface is inlaid with eight radiating
strips of copper.

Eskimo WEAPONS.

The Central Eskimos are now supplied with American re-
peating rifles, notwithstanding the watchfulness of the United
States revenue cutters which are directed to enforce the laws
prohibiting the entrance of rifles and liquors to the Alaskan
natives. Very few of those at Herschel Island would carry the
light muskets used by the Indians. Shotguns are little used,
and the strong sinew-corded bow will soon be known only by
tradition.

Bows. The Eskimo bow, with its reinforcement of tightly
twisted sinew cable, is far superior in strength and neatness to
the self bows of the Northern Indians. Three specimens were
collected, all of brittle spruce driftwood, straight when relaxed.
The largest, No, 10,859, is 46 inches long, somewhat elliptical
in section, flattened upon the back and narrowed and thickened
at the handle and near the ends. The backing is a three-ply
braid of sinew, twisted in two strands from a point 14 inches
from the handle. Beyond the twisted portion it is whipped
firmly around the bow in nine bands of 4 hitches each and one

192 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

of 10. The backing is seized at the handle by sealskin. The
string is of several strands of three-ply braided sinew twisted
together. Itis whipped with whalebone at the nocking point for
a distance of 4inches. This bow was obtained from the Richard
Island natives, when they visited McPherson in July, 1893.

The other two specimens were obtained at Herschel Island;
they are provided with ivory bridges and do not differ from
the “Arctic type” of Murdoch.

Arrows. There are eight arrows in the collection, which
vary in length from 22.5 to 28.5 inches. Four are bird bolts
with short shafts; the others deer arrows with long, barbed
piles of walrus ivory. All but one have two feathers which are
laid on straight; the shaft of the feather is split, the web is cut
to less than half an inch in width and tapers to the ends which
are seized with fine sinew the end of which is fastened in a slit
on the stele; falcon and gull feathers are used. The shaftment
is flattened, tapering and stained with red ochre; the shaft is
from 0.3 to 0.4 inch in diameter and elliptical in cross section.

No. 10,865 is of spruce, 28.5 inches long. The pile is easily
detached; it is 6 inches long, .6 inch in diameter with a sharp,
four-sided point. There are three barbs on each edge. One
side is more rounded than the other and both are ornamented
with incised lines. The notch is U-shaped and deeply cut.
No. 10,960 has a trihedral pile with three barbs. No. 10,863 is
similar but much smaller, being only 22.75 inches long. No.
10,867 is a specimen of a common type of bird arrows, used to
kill or disable without piercing. The head is cylindrical, .5
inch in diameter and 1.6 inches in length; four deep grooves
or notches give the shape of a cross to the blunt end; the tang
tapers to a point, so that the pile may be detached as easily as
the barbed ones. No. 10,864 is much larger, with a short pile
of heavy bone into which a cylindrical hole has been bored to
admit the blunt tip of the stele.

There are twenty-five piles in the collection; they are made
of shale, walrus ivory, bone and steel; there are four of bone
which are deeply concave on one side, sharp edged, with four
barbs near the base; they are from 6 to 8 inches long. There
are four piles with a barbed ivory shank, into a cut in the end
of which is inserted a sagitate head of steel. No. 10,953 is an
iron pile, 3 inches long, with a blunt notched tip. It differs from

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 193

the piles of the other bird arrows in the material from which it
is made, and that the tang is wedge-shaped. No. 10,965 is of
greyish shale, 1.2 inches wide, and 2.2 inches long. No. 10,966
is of dark indurated shale, 2 inches long, .8 inch wide, with a
a broad tang.

Harpoons. Eight harpoon heads were collected at Herschel
Island; these are of walrus ivory and heavy bone. Owing to
the presence of the whalers throughout the year, there is little
need of such weapons, and they, with other articles of Eskimo
manufacture, are going out of use.

Bird Darts. These are used in capturing large birds, such as
geese and ducks, and are especially effective when the birds
are unable to fly during the moulting season. They are pro-
vided with a long heavy head and a set of three prongs near
the middle of the shaft, the object of which is to catch the neck
of the bird if missed by the head of the dart. They are thrown
by means of a throwing stick, of which no specimens were
obtained.

No. 11,032 furnishes a good example of the common type.
The shaft is of spruce, 53.5 inches long and .5 of an inch in
diameter; it is enlarged at the insertion of the prongs to a
diameter of .8 of an inch; the butt is hollowed slightly to fit a
projection on the throwing stick; the head is of walrus ivory, a
foot in length; it is trihedral, with one sharp edge in which are
cut seven barbs, extending to within 3 inches of the point; the
tang is wedge-shaped, and secured by a whalebone pin and
strong lashing of sealskin line; another line passes through a
hole in its base and is made fast near the butt of the shaft.
The prongs are of walrus ivory, attached 2 inches above the
middle of the shaft; they are sunk in slits and bound at the
base with braided sinew, an inch forward of this is a hole in
each, through which the line from the head passes and secures
the prong with two hitches around the shaft; two of the prongs
have two barbs each on the inner edge, the third has a barb on
each side, so that it would be of service only in piercing and
not by holding the neck of a bird against the shaft.

No. 11,033 is somewhat smaller; its line is of two-ply twisted
sinew; the prongs are directed forward until parallel with the
shaft, and have four barbs each on their outer edges, making
them effective as piercing weapons only.

13

194 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Knives. The Eskimos inhabiting the coast west of Cape
Bathurst now obtain sheath or butcher knives from the whalers,
or from the Hudson’s Bay Company; so that flint and slate
are no longer used for knife blades. Specimen No. 10,929 has
a light ivory handle, 7.75 inches long; it is attached to the steel
blade by steel rivets; the blade is 5 inches long and 1.3 inches
wide. This and the crooked knives described below were
taken from graves near Herschel Island.

The crooked knife with the Eskimo, as with the Indian, is an
important tool, which he uses with considerable skill in carv-
ing and wood-working. One of those collected, No. 10,929,
has a bone shaft 13.5 inches long; there is a small piece of bone
riveted to the back, apparently to allow the hand a better
grasp. The blade is 3 inches long and 8 inches wide; it is
curved upwards slightly in its terminal third. Another, No.
10,930, has a shorter, broader haft of a single piece; the blade
has a uniform curve throughout, which is continuous with the
curved end of the haft. The ‘woman’s knife” is made by the
natives from saw blades; the pattern, which is that of a minc-
ing knife, and the manner of using remain the same as when
made of stone; the women use them in cutting cloth, leather,
or meat,—in fact for every purpose for which a knife may be
employed; the cut is made by pushing. No. 11,010 was obtained
from Richards Island. It is of dark slate, 4.4 inches in greatest
length and 2 inches at the back. It is 2.9 inches wide and .25
inch thick. The edge is beveled upon both sides, and worn
blunt and smooth. It is without a handle.

Snow-knife. A large sabre-shaped snow-knife, No. 10,964,
was obtained from Cape Bathurst. It is of coarse, heavy bone,
flat upon one side, slightly and uniformly rounded upon the
other, and equally dull upon the edges; a part of the point has
been broken away; the handle is transversely notched, and the
end enlarged to afford a better grasp; there is a hole at the end
for the passage of a thong.

Bow Drill. The collection contains but one drill, No. 10,943,
from Herschel Island. The steel point is 1.4 inches long, .25
inch in diameter; the shaft is of birch, 10.7 inches long, tapering
to a rounded end a quarter of an inch in diameter; the winged
mouthpiece is of spruce, 3.6 inches long by 2 broad and 1.1 thick.
The socket is made of a triangular piece of limestone.

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 195

Fishhooks. A combined fishhook, sinker, and bait, No. 11,009,
was obtained from the Anderson River Eskimos, It is of wal-
rus ivory, 4 inches long by .7 inch broad, and resembles a small
fish in shape; the hook is a sharpened nail without a barb. It
is weighted with five plugs on the side and a forked bar of
lead upon the back; two small blue beads serve as eyes. They
now obtain fishhooks from the whalers which they use in both
coast and river.fishing. .

Net Sinkers. The net sinkers used at Herschel Island were
of heavy bone, instead of stone, which is commonly used by
all Northern Indians. The collection contains one set, No,
10,961, which was made from cylindrical bone, 1.8 inches in
diameter, sawed in sections, 6.5 inches long and again in half
longitudinally; there is a groove sawed upon the convex side
25 of an inch from each end; they are attached to the net by
twine passed through a small hole drilled in each end; another
form,. No. 10,963, is cylindrical, 4.3 inches long, with a large
hole through the outer rim at each end.

Net Floats. These are frequently made of cottonwood bark.
Specimen No. 10,960 will serve as a type; it is in the form of a
low pyramid with rounded corners; it is 4.3 inches long by 3.2
wide; a loop of whalebone is fixed at each end to two holes
drilled half an inch apart.

Netting Needles. These are made of ivory or caribou antler.
A specimen from Herschel Island, No. 10,951, is of a poor
quality of walrus ivory; it is 8 inches long, 1 inch wide at the
base of the prong, and slightly narrower in the handle, which
is 3.4 inches long.

Lamps. The soapstone lamp of native manufacture is being.
replaced by imported oil stoves in which kerosene is burned
instead of whale oil. A few are still in use at Herschel Island,
where I measured a house lamp that was 18 inches long. The
collection contains one traveling lamp, No. 10,928, of steatite
from the same locality. It is 5.3 inches long by 3.2 wide, and is
excavated toa depth of .5 of an inch; the wall of the more
convex side is nearly vertical and ornamented with an incised
line; the opposite side, which bears the wick of moss, slopes
inward more gradually.

Hammer. The collection contains but one, No. 10,841, which
was obtained from the Anderson River Eskimos. The handle

196 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

is of willow, 5.7 inches long; it passes around the head in a
groove made to receive it and, doubling back upon itself, is
firmly bound with babiche; the head is of a dark, coarse-grained
trap rock and weighs 16% ounces.

Harness Swivels. These are used to prevent the traces from
becoming twisted. The collection contains two specimens
from the Diomedes. They are of walrus ivory, with heavy.
loops of seal thong at each end; the link of one, No. 11,004, is
carved to represent a seal, with inlaid eyes of whalebone. It
is 2.8 inches long and 1.2 inches in its greatest diameter. The
pin is carved as a seal head and works freely in the larger end
of the link, through which it is prevented from passing by a
narrow shoulder. It is 1.5 inches long by .4 of an inch in
diameter.

The other specimen, No. 11,005, has a heavy barb of ivory
instead of a link. A short loop is fastened to holes in the end
of this and the pin turns upon the center. Both pieces are
carved to represent seal heads.

Walrus Ivory. A few pounds of walrus tusks are yet obtained
annually from the natives of Behring Sea and Strait. They
are brought on board the vessels tied in pairs by a sinew cord
passed through holes drilled in the point. An unusually large
pair was obtained from the Diomede Islands. They are 33.5
inches long, and 3.75 inches in diameter at the point of inser-
tion, whence they taper slightly towards the base and gradually
to the blunt tips. They weigh 24 pounds.

Drawings. The Eskimos exhibit no mean degree of skill in
drawing, carving, or engraving upon ivory. Captain Beechey,
as early as 1826, says of the natives of Kotzebue Sound: “On
the outside of these instruments there were etched a variety of
men, beasts, and birds, and so forth, with a truth and character
which showed the art to be common among them.” At both
East Cape and Cape Tchaplin specimens of engraving were
offered to us for barter. The designs were darkened with
soot or gunpowder, and sometimes dyed red or green. The
collection contains a slab of ivory, No. 11,022, 17 inches
long, with 11 figures of men, women, and seals engraved upon
it. A companion piece, No. 11,023, has in the center a draw-
ing of a building which has evidently been copied from a
tea chest. There are two thin ivory plates, Nos. 11,024 and

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 197

11,025, which are 7.2 inches long by .8 inch wide, covered with
small figures upon a convex surface and deeply hollowed upon
the opposite side, where a number of incised lines suggest that
they have been intended for hunting scores.

Fire Bags. These are not so important a part of the parapher-
nalia of the Eskimo as of the Indian or métis. The only one
in the collection, No. 10,892, was obtained at Herschel Island.
It is of caribouskin, dressed with the hair on, with a sealskin
top and a sinew drawing-string. It contains three small pieces
of flint, a small pouch of soft leather, containing willow catkins
for tinder, and a slender link of steel made from an old file.

Ladles. Ladles of various sizes are made of bone, wood, and
horn. The collection contains one, No. 10,908, from Herschel
Island, of the horn of a mountain sheep. It is 2 feet in length
and 6 inches across the bowl. A short crack in the rim has
been closed with an iron rivet.

Needle Cases. One of these, No. 11,016, from the Diomedes,
is of walrus ivory, 2.8 inches long and .7 of an inch in diameter.
It is polished and stained with use. The cylinder is ornamented
with 6 encircling lines. The strap is 8 inches long and has a
metal trousers button at one end to keep it from slipping
through. The other end forms a loop for attachment at the
girth.

Omiaks. The Eskimos are obtaining whaleboats from the
vessels at all the settlements on the Arctic coast as far east-
ward as Cape Bathurst, so that the large skin boats, or omiaks,
are now seldom used in whaling. Nearly every family at Her-
schel Island which did not have a whaleboat owned an omiak.
The frame is made of spruce driftwood, of which there is an
abundance along that coast. The boats, or canoes, as the
whalemen call them, are light and easily beached. The cov-
ering is of walrus, seal, or even bearskin, sewed in a double
seam with a blind stitch. I saw only a few of them in use, but
all required occasional bailing. I noticed both men and
women in them on several occasions; the women pulling inde-
pendently of each other at the short and narrow oars, and the
men paddling and pushing aside ice floes.

The collection contains an omiak model, No. 10,999, from
Point Barrow. It is 33.5 inches long, with a depth of 4 inches,
and a g inch beam; being proportionately too broad, as an

198 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

omiak 30 feet long does not exceed 6 feet in the beam. It is
covered with a single piece of light yellowish sealskin stretched
on without any seam. It is sewed to the gunwale, the ends of
which pass through holes in its edge near the bow and stern,
and are lashed with seal thong over the gunwale to the inside
streak along the sides. The keel is broader than deep, and
fastened with a scarf joint and tree nails to the stem and stern-
posts. The stem is bent upward in the knee, having a greater
rake than the stern. Both are broad and flat on the inside and
taper to a sharp edge, continuous with the keel. A short board
is lashed to the top of each, that in the stern affording a seat
for the steersman. The bilge-streak is deep and narrow and
lashed in an offset in the stern. The side streaks are inside
the ribs, and are 6 in number, and are lashed to the bilge streak
and gunwales, against which they rest with notched ends. The
gunwales are round, and project at the bow until they meet,
but without fastening. At the stern they project an equal
distance, and are separated by a space of 1 inch. There are
5 narrow floor timbers, and 3 thwarts.

Scrapers. I obtained two skin scrapers, which had been made
at the Diomedes. No. 11,027 is a fair specimen of the type
most commonly used. The handle is of fossil ivory, 4 inches
long, 2.2 inches wide, and strongly arched. The upper surface
has two long and shallow grooves for the fore and middle
fingers. The left side is deeply hollowed to receive the thumb.
The right side is deeply excavated for the third and fourth
fingers, which are separated by a projecting ridge. The butt
is slightly flattened. It must have been recently made, for it
is nearly white, though smoothly polished. I have seen several
that were stained a dark brown with age and oil. This handle
contains several cracks which are bound with whalebone, and
prevented from extending farther by holes drilled at their ends.
The blade is of flint, .5 of an inch long, 1 inch wide, tightly
wedged into a groove 1.6 inches wide.

The other specimen, No. 11,026, is a wooden handle without
a blade. It is smaller and more roughly made than No. 11,027.
There are two circular depressions for the fore and middle
fingers; the third and fourth are not separated. A deep verti-
cal furrow crosses the hollow from the left side, perhaps in-
tended to prevent the thumb from slipping.

ESKIMO ETHNOLOGICAL MATERIAL 199

Another model that I noticed had a curved projection be-
tween the thumb and forefinger which prevented the hand from
slipping forward.

Mode of Burial. Soon after my arrival at Herschel Island, the
death of an old woman gave me an opportunity to see how an
Eskimo funeral was conducted. The preliminary ceremonies
were concluded before I heard of it, but I was an interested
spectator at the tomb. The corpse was wrapped in two woolen
blankets, a robe of heavy winter caribouskin, and a robe of
light summer skin; the clothing of the deceased, consisting of
calico and Siberian reindeerskin frocks, was laid over the body,
and the whole was enclosed with several yards of gray flannel,
securely lashed with seal thong. Two heavy logs, 6 to 8 feet
long, were placed transversely at the head and foot of the
corpse, which was laid upon the surface of the ground. Smaller
logs were laid across these, parallel with and entirely covering
the body. Short, heavy pieces were inclined against the sides
and placed across the top, making the whole about 3 feet high.
A medium sized kumotik, in good condition, was left beside
the tomb. Knives, needles, and other personal property were
placed with the body, showing that six years of contact with
the whites had not affected their burial customs.

CRANIA.

While at Grand Rapids, I obtained three crania and the
greater part of three skeletons belonging to the race which
occupied the Winnipeg region prior to the advent of the Crees;
also two skeletons of Wood Crees. At McLeod I collected the
cranium of a Piegan. I secured two Dog Rib skeletons at Rae;
and at various points between the mouth of the Mackenzie
River and Herschel Island, I collected nine crania of Western
Eskimos.

A few of the most important cranial measurements are pre-
sented here; the small number prevents a detailed account
being given. The cranial capacity was obtained with a set of
Broca’s gauging instruments and No. 8 shot.

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

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CHAPTER XII
MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES

HE Grand Rapids natives seemed quite willing to aid me
in recording their myths, yet the number of these tales
was much less than I had expected. ‘Old Joe”! was always
pleased when he found ‘a new story” among his “ band” for
me, after the more common myths had been written, and, as he
was one of the most influential men in the tribe, I think that
most of the myths known to them were told to me. Not all
of the mass of exceedingly vulgar material which was offered
has been rewritten for publication. To the credit of the nar-
rators be it said that they apologized for the coarseness of
many of the tales, saying, “It is not fit to tell a dourgeois (the
term applied to officers of the company and travelers passing
through the country, all other whites being known as ‘servants’
or voyageurs) but then I did not make the story you know.”

The myths are written as nearly as possible in the words of
the interpreters. I did not acquire a sufficient acquaintance
with the language to consider it advisable to attempt to write
the Cree text.

Wisagatchak is the central figure in their mythology; the
tales relating his marvelous adventures ‘would take a summer
and a winter in the telling.”

Petitot gives a brief account of the Wisagatchak creation
myth,? and then states? that the history of Wisagatchak con-
tinues and blends with that of Efwa-éhé of the Hares. He
caused the animals to suffer, the buffaloes to die through loss
of breath, he flattened the face of the lynx, produced touch-
wood by burning his own flesh, and, finally, he assembled all

1 See p. 2, ante.
2 Traditions Indiénnes du Canada Nord-Ouest, p. 472.

8 Jbid, p. 474.
201

202 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the animals in a great medicine lodge which he shook and
pulled down, and in its downfall all animals perished. ‘Wis-
saketchok is then, at once the Noah and the Sampson of the
Crees.”

The story of the deluge which here appears is quite different
in its details from that given by Petitot, and of the other tales
which he mentions, only one, that accounting for the origin of
touchwood, was related to me.

THE BEGINNING OF WISAGATCHAK’S WANDERINGS.

Wisagatchak’s father was very found of roast beaver. Every
day he hunted his favorite game and every evening, when he
returned, his wife had no wood for the fire. As it is one of the
first duties of a good wife to procure firewood, he became
suspicious of her conduct and asked his two little sons, ‘Where
does your mother go every day?” “She takes her robe and
goes off that way,” said they, indicating her course.

The next day he killed a beaver, as usual, but left it where it
lay. In the morning he told the old wife to goafter the game,
and as soon as she left the camp he hastened away in the
direction in which she was accustomed to go in his absence.
He followed her track until he came to a hollow stump which
was full of snakes. The reptiles hearing his footsteps, and
thinking that they were made by the old wife, came rushing
out to meet him with a more than cordial greeting. Angered
by the perfidy of his spouse, he killed the snakes and took a
quantity of their blood back to the camp with which he made a
rich soup. The woman, upon returning with the beaver, sud-
denly became very industrious and volunteered to go after fire-
wood.

“Eat, before you go,” said he, placing the soup before her
She ate it greedily and pronounced it very good.

“That is the blood of your snake lovers.”

“Tf you have killed them, I will kill you,” she cried, running
off ina rage. Calling his boys to him, the father gave them a
flint, an awl, and a beaver’s tooth, saying, “ Be off, I am going
to kill your mother.”

When she returned, they began a desperate fight. After a
long contest he succeeded in cutting off her head which went
rolling swiftly away. The headless body continued the struggle

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 203

and the pair began to ascend into the heavens, where, still fight-
ing, they became lost to view forever.

The head fell upon the trail of Wisagatchak and his brother
and started in pursuit of them. The boys saw it coming and
knew that it meant to kill them. Throwing down their awl,
they wished that it might become a mountain covered with
awls, their bristling points upraised to stop the pursuit of that
terrible head. Their wish was, of course, granted, but the head,
only retarded in its progress for a short time, came bounding
after them again. Throwing down their flint, they wished that
it might become a mountain strewn with sharp and rugged
rocks. Even this proved unavailing. Only the beaver’s tooth
remained, and this was cast down with the wish that it might
become a broad river. On coming to the stream, the head
rolled into it only to bound back upon the bank unable to
cross. The head called to a pelican to come and carry it
across. This the bird tried to do, but on being addressed with
offensive language threw off its burden in midstream. The
head was instantly transformed into a sturgeon in the magic
river. Breaching high above the surface the fish cried, “As
long as the earth shall stand I shall be called nemao/”

How wis BroTHER WAS TRANSFORMED INTO A WOLF.

Wisagatchak was older than his brother, and naturally took
the lead in their subsequent adventures. As they were playing
by the river, the younger boy began crying. To divert his
attention, Wisagatchak gave him a string of bears’ claws. Just
then an old man, named Waimesosoo, came down the stream in
acanoe. He made no stroke in the water with his paddle, but
simply struck the top of the canoe which shot swiftly through
the water. Seeing the children he stopped close beside them,
and on catching sight of the bears’ claws, he transferred them
to the canoe by a mere effort of his will. Wisagatchak pro-
tested against this robbery, saying, “You will make my little
brother cry again.” ‘Come and get them then,” said old Wai-
mesosoo, putting out his paddle for the boy to step upon. As.
soon as his foot touched it, Wisagatchak was thrown into the
canoe which sped rapidly away. Seeing himelf thus deserted,
the little fellow on the bank dolefully cried, “ Nés-te-se na-cu-ta
hoo-yi-na és-i-giim né-me-ni-cu-ni-win”—If you leave me I will

204 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

turn into a wolf. Such indeed, was the fate of Wisagatchak’s
brother; slowly, one side at a time, he became transformed into
a wolf.

How HE Founp a WIFE.

Waimesosoo carried Wisagatchak far away, but the canoe
touched the shore at last and was hauled up and overturned
with the boy under it. The old man went up to his lodge, and
told the elder of his two daughters that he had brought home
a husband for her. The girl went to see Wisagatchak, but said,
“Qh, that is only a boy, and he is too ugly, anyway.”

The younger sister was better pleased with him and brought
him new clothing, which transformed him into a strong and
handsome young man.

“We will both have him,” said the elder daughter.

“Qh, no! you had the first chance and you did not take him.”

It seemed that old Waimesosoo had a habit of kidnapping
young men, only to exercise his ingenuity in killing them.
Wisagatchak was put upon his guard by his new-found wife.
One day the two men went to gather eggs among the islands.
Waimesosoo kept urging his son-in-law to go farther out.

“The eggs are better beyond. You will find some nice yel-
low ones on the little island, away there,” said he. As soon as
they reached the island the old man upset Wisagatchak’s canoe
and deserted him. Wisagatchak killed a gull and exchanged its
body for his own. He reached home before Waimesosoo, who
found his little grandson eating a gull’s egg outside the lodge.

‘““Where did you get that?”

“My father brought it.”

“Oh, no. I offered him as a sacrifice,” said the old man, but
a moment later he was greeted by the smiling manito in his
proper person.

Not long afterward they made a journey to a distant island
to procure some arrow wood for the son of Wisagatchak.
Again Waimesosoo deserted his son-in-law, who escaped as he
had done before. Upon his return Waimesosoo found his
grandson shooting with his new arrows.

‘“Where did you get those arrows?”

“My father brought them.”

And the old man knew that he was again foiled.

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 205

A third time they set out together, intending to procure some
quills for the arrows obtained upon the preceding trip. They
came at last to an island upon which lived an enormous eagle.

‘“T will give this man to you to eat” said Waimesosoo, desert-
ing him as before.

“Oh, I know you from long ago, we are old friends,” said
Wisagatchak, and he flattered the eagle until he was allowed
to escape in the form of a gull. On reaching home Waimeso-
soo boasted to his grandson.

“You will not see your father any more, for I have given
him to the great eagle.”

‘See the quills he has just brought me,” replied the boy.

On the following day Waimesosoo said, “ Let us go and have
aswing.” The swing was upon the verge of a precipice and
had frequently been used by the old man to destroy his victims.
Wisagatchak knew that he would be hurled out of the swing by
a jerk of the rope, and just as the act of treachery was performed
he transformed himself into a crane, so that instead of falling
headlong upon the rocks below he flew gently down in safety.

“Now, it is your turn,” said Wisagatchak, and he swung the
old man long and high, finally tripping him at the right moment.
Waimesosoo assumed the form of a whiskey jack to escape be-
ing dashed to pieces. Wisagatchak blew so hard upon the
little bird that it was killed by the violence of the gale and the
long contest was ended.

Wisagatchak returned to his home alone, but not to stay, as he
was destined thenceforth to be a wanderer upon the face of the
earth. He met with many strange adventures, and could talk
with all the animals, and trees, and stones; all spoke the language
of the Wood Crees. It seems probable that the point of this
myth has been forgotten, and the one which accounted for the
origin of the sturgeon has been lost by interpretation into Eng-
lish; the mischievous whiskey jack (Perisoreus Canadensis) ought
to have originated in this way instead of being destroyed.

THE CREATION OF THE WORLD.

Nearly every people has its own legend to account for the
creation of the world, and among the Wood Crees this is not
wanting. It isa combination of a creation myth and the equally
universal tradition of a flood.

206 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

One day Wisagatchak’s brother “was going along,” in the
form of a wolf, and was feeling very hungry. Coming upon
the trail of a moose, he followed it until he came to the shores
of a great lake. He had been warned by Wisagatchak not to
venture into the water, for in it lived the long-tailed misipisi-
wuk (lynxes) which would kill him; but hunger overcame his
prudence and he followed the moose track into the lake, with
fatal result.

When the wolf did not return, Wisagatchak traced him to
the lakeside, where he found a kingfisher, which was sitting
upon a dead branch, looking out upon the lake and mournfully
crying.

“ What is the matter?” asked the manito.

“My spear is too small,” was the reply. Wisagatchak made
the bill of the bird long and sharp, as it remains to this day,
saying, “now try it.’ The first dive resulted in a fish being
impaled upon the perfected spear.

“What were you looking at when I came along? ” asked
Wisagatchak.

“T was looking at a wolf’s tail which the misipisiwuk were
playing with.”

‘“What do they do in the middle of the day?”

“They come ashore on that sandy beach to sleep.”

The manito then provided himself with a spear and went to the
sands, where he transformed himself into a pine stump to await
the coming of the lynxes. Some of the wisest of these were
alarmed when they arrived, declaring that the stump had not
been there before, but the others were as positive that it had.
Two of the strongest misipisiwuk tried to dislodge it by locking
their tails together and pulling, but as Wisagatchak retained
his hold they decided that it was certainly a stump and pro-
ceeded to frolic about on the shore. When all were tired and
had lain down to sleep, Wisagatchak resumed the form of a
man, caught up his spear and killed them one by one, leaving
his spear sticking in the last, which still lived.

This resulted in the waters rising until the earth was flooded.
Wisagatchak built a raft and placed a bit of earth in a tree.
The water rose so rapidly that he forgot this in his haste, when
he embarked upon the raft. While floating, he heard some-
thing gnawing at the logs beneath.

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 207

‘Who is eating the logs of my raft?” he cried, and a big
beaver thrusting his head above the surface, answered in person.

‘What were you doing there?”

But the beaver only laughed in reply, exposing his teeth.
Wisagatchak, angered, knocked some of his teeth out with a
sudden blow, hence the gap which ‘exists between the incisors
and molars of the beaver.

Suddenly the raft began to sink and the manito saw that the
misipisiwuk were dragging it down.

“You can’t sink the raft that way, just put your tails on the
side and overturn it,” which the unsuspecting lynxes tried to
do; but no sooner did their tails appear on the side than the
manito cut them off, and the wildcat tribe is tailless to this day.

Wisagatchak was not alone upon the raft, but was accom-
panied by his brother, the wolf, who had been restored in some
miraculous manner, and by all kinds of animals. He was now
anxious to recreate the earth; he therefore ordered the muskrat
to dive down and bring him a little mud from the submerged
land. The rat obeyed his master, but was unable to reach the
bottom, and drowned before he could rise to the surface again.
Wisagatchak thereupon restored him to life, and promising to
resuscitate him yet again, should he die, ordered him to try
once more. This time the rat was more successful, for he
caught a little mud in his mouth and one paw, but came back
lifeless. Restoring the rat to life a second time, this master of
all the living creatures laid the mud in the sun to dry, and then
blew upon it until it begun to grow larger and larger. At last
he sent his brother out to see if the world was big enough. The
wolf did not return for a long time but Wisagatchak was not
satisfied and again blew upon the earth increasing its size. The
wolf was again sent out but never returned, whereupon the
manito decided that the world was large enough and the occu-
pants of the raft were landed.

WISAGATCHAK AS A DOCTOR.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he discovered a
strange track. After following it a short distance he heard the
sound of a conjurer’s rattle and soon saw an enormous frog
who informed him that he was a doctor.

‘Where are you going?” asked the manito.

208 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

“To visit the wounded misipisiwuk that Wisagatchak
speared.”

“How do you treat them?”

“T blow this way,” said he, inflating himself vigorously, “then
I use my rattle.”

Wisagatchak killed the frog and put on its skin. He then
set out for the lodge of the misipisiwuk who admitted him with-
out question, as the frog had been treating their wounded com-
rade for some time.

“T am going to employ a new remedy,” said he. ‘“ Put out
the fire and darken the lodge.” This order was obeyed and
then taking hold of the spear, which had been nearly removed,
he thrust it deeper than ever, remarking that it was very warm
inside. The false doctor left the lodge. The misipisiwuk be-
coming suspicious at his long absence went out and found the
frog skin and the rattle lying beside the door, and on lighting
a bit of birch bark they discovered that the patient was dead.
Whereupon an old wiseacre remarked, “It is always dangerous
to have anything to do with Wisagatchak.” (‘‘When you sup
with the devil,” etc.)

Wuy SoME TREES ARE TWISTED.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came across a
bear lying in his path.

“Get up you lazy beast, you sleep too much,” he said, giving
the bear a kick, but finding that it was dead he thought to
himself, ‘ Now I will have a feast.” So he built a huge fire and
roasted the entire animal. ‘I cannot eat all that,” thought he,
“without making room in mystomach.” So he placed himself
between two trees and told them to squeeze him. The trees
complied but warned him that they would not let him go, but
they relaxed their hold and he began to eat, soon returning,
however, to give the order, ‘That is not enough, you must
squeeze harder.” This time the trees were true to their word
and held him fast. The whiskey jacks came to feed upon the
roasted meat, then came the crows and all kinds of carnivorous
birds and mammals, until nothing but the bones remained of
the delicious repast. Then the trees released him. In his
anger, Wisagatchak caught their tops and twisted them so far

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 209

that they remained permanently awry, which accounts for the
occurrence to this day of twisted trees which will not split
straight.

How ANIMALS OBTAINED THEIR Fat.

* I will have my share after all!” said he, as he gathered the
bones together that he might boil them and extract the grease.
Putting this in a bladder, he went down to a little river to cool
it. There he heard somebody crying, which he soon found to
be a muskrat. ‘ What are you crying for, my little brother?”
asked the manito.

“My tail is too big,” was the reply, and it was indeed true;
the little animal was unable to manage the broad, beaver-like
caudal appendage which clogged his movements. Wisagatchak
stripped away its sides, making it small and narrow.

“Ts that the way you want it?”

“Yes,” said the delighted rat, beginning to play about the
water.

“Take this grease and swim about with it to cool it, but go
slowly,” said he, as he tied the bladder to the rat’s tail. The
muskrat soon began to swim faster and faster until checked by
the hungry manito, who again cautioned him. The rat went
slower but gradually swam beyond reach.

“Now,” said the rat, “I will play a trick on Wisagatchak.”

So he dived beneath the bladder, and gnawing a hole in it
allowed all the tat to escape.

Wisagatchak, unable to save it, called all the animals of the
forest about him. Taking the rabbit he threw it into the stream
but withdrew it as soon as a little fat had adhered to its neck
and breast, where it remains to this day. All the animals
were dipped in the river; the bear, being allowed to remain
longest, secured the most fat.

WISAGATCHAK AND THE GRIZZLY.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came upon an
unusually large pine tree. He noticed the excellence of the
wood and decided to use it in the manufacture of a full set
of weapons. He fell to work cutting and splitting the trunk
into billets from which he made knives, hatchets, and arrows.
“Now,” said he, “I wish that I could meet a grizzly.”

14

310 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

His wish was soon gratified, for he came upon one which was
digging roots near by. Wisagatchak fired an arrow, but it
broke against the bear’s tough hide. Another and another shaft
was sent until his quiver was empty, and he took to flight with
the grizzly in swift pursuit. As he ran, Wisagatchak turned
and hurled one of his hatchets which shivered to pieces against
the head of Bruin, as were the others in quick succession. The
bear was now so close that the fleeing manito turned and struck
at him with a knife, but it, too, failed him. After breaking all
his knives, he came to a little bush around which the chase
continued. There was a moose horn beside the bush, partly
buried in the earth. Every time he passed this he gave it a
kick, until it became loosened so that he snatched it up and
made such terrific passes and bellowed so loudly that the
grizzly fled in terror. What effect this had on anything “to
this day” is not divulged.

WISAGATCHAK AND THE NicuHt Hawk.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came across an
enormous granite boulder.

“Now, let us have a race,” said he to the rock.

“No,” was the reply, ‘I am fixed here forever.”

“Oh, come on,” and off they went, down a long incline, the
manito in front with the boulder following close behind After
a long chase the rock overtook him and leaped upon his back
pinning him to the earth. After vainly trying to escape, Wis-
agatchak called to everything which passed for help. His
entreaties were in vain, until a night hawk flew over them.

“My little brother, come and take away this rock,” he cried.
Down swooped the night hawk, uttering its peculiar and char-
acteristic booming sound as it struck the boulder a terrific
blow which split it in twain and released the prisoner.

Tue THUNDERBOLT.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came upona
large granite boulder.

“ Let us have a race,” said he.

‘“No, I am to remain here as long as the world stands,” was
the reply, but he prevailed upon the rock to run at last, and
away they sped. They ran until the boulder overtook the manito,

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 211

as they were descending a hill, and leaped upon him and pinned
him to the earth.

‘“Come, my brother, let me go,” he entreated.

‘No, so long as the earth remains and waters run you must
stay here,” said the rock. Wisagatchak then fell asleep; he
awakened after the lapse of years to find that his face was
overgrown with lichens and his hair was full of moss. Then
he called to the thunder, ‘My brother, take this rock from
my back.”

The crushing weight was immediately broken and scattered
over all the land, where the fragments are seen to this day.

OKASKEWAYSESUK.

As Wisagatchak was going along, one day, he came upon a
pack of young grouse.

““What is your name,” said he.

“ Okaskewaysesuk” (I-startle-you), they said.

“You cannot startle me,” said the manito as he continued
upon his way. The old grouse returned to find her brood sadly
frightened. Meditating revenge upon Wisagatchak, she col-
lected a great covey of her friends and relatives together upon
the banks ofa small river, where they concealed themselves in
the path of the advancing manito. When he reached the bank
of the stream Wisagatchak concluded that he could jump across
it. Moving back some distance to gather impetus he rushed
down the bank only to pause at the brink without leaping. A
second time he ran, and a second time his courage failed him.
“T will jump this time,” said he, and the listening grouse knew
that he meant to make the attempt. Just as he was springing
into the air the grouse started up in a body, producing such a
sudden noise and confusion that Wisagatchak, instead of clear-
ing the stream fell with a splash in the middle of the current.

“Yes, it is true they ought to be called Okaskewaysesuk,”
he soliloquized as he pulled himself up on the bank.

How THE ErmIne’s FuR CAME TO CHANGE WITH THE SEASON.

Wisagatchak was once more free. As he was going along,
he fell upon the track of a bear. The bear turned upon him
saying, “You will be a dead man before the day is done.
Gather firewood at once, I am going to roast you.”

212 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Wisagatchak was thoroughly frightened, and at once obeyed.
In his search for wood he found an ermine, to which he ap-
pealed for assistance.

‘My little brother, you can save me from the bear; you run
and jump down his throat and gnaw his heart. Do not be
afraid for I will not let him kill you.”

The ermine did as directed. The bear became impatient.

“Be quick! be quick! my heart is aching!” and again, “hurry!
hurry!”

Wisagatchak purposely delayed until the bear fell, dying from
the wounds inflicted by the little ermine. Then he threw heavy
sticks upon him, saying, ‘‘There is your wood, much good may
it do you.”

In those days the ermine’s fur was red, making it a pretty
but conspicuous animal. Wisagatchak found that his little
friend had perished, but life was at once restored by the manito,
who dismissed him with these words, ‘You have helped me,
my little brother, I will reward you by changing your color, so
that your enemies cannot see you. You shall be brown in
summer and white as the snow in winter.”

How ToucHwoop ORIGINATED.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came upon a
large flock of waterfowl, including a number of nice fat geese.
Quickly forming a plan to get some of them, he went into the
muskeg and gathered a bag of moss with which he approached
the geese, who called to him, ‘‘ What have you in that bag?”

“Those are my songs, J am a musician.”

‘““Make us a dance, then.”

“All right,” said Wisagatchak, “I will make a big medicine
lodge, and you must do as IJ tell you in the song.”

They promised to do so, and fell to dancing, gradually ar-
ranging themselves in a long line with their necks crossed and
their eyes shut as the song proceeded. A loon near the door
noticed that the manito sometimes mumbled his song or ceased
altogether for a moment; becoming suspicious, he opened one
eye alittle and saw the singer biting off the head of a goose,
several of which were already lying dead.

“Ho, Wisagatchak! Wisagatchak! He will kill us all!” cried
the loon. Everything was instantly.in an uproar. As the

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 213

fleeing birds passed him, the angry manito gave a savage kick at
the loon, driving its legs far back, where they are fixed to the
present day. Wisagatchak made preparations to have a feast.
The geese were buried in the sand with their legs above the sur-
face, and a roaring fire was built over them.

“Now,” said he, “I will have a nap while they are roasting.”

One side of his body was to remain on guard while the other
slept. The sleeping side was soon awakened to be told that a
boat load of foxes was passing. They soon disappeared and
the waking half was so berated for disturbing the slumbers of
the other, that it resolved to go to sleep also, and not incur
further displeasure. The foxes soon returned and, discovering
the geese, removed them, leaving only the legs sticking in the
sand. Wisagatchak discovered his loss upon awakening and,
in his anger, heated a large stone and pressed it against the
offending side. As it began to burn with a hissing, chee, chee,
he exclaimed, “Oh yes, I will make you sing chee-e-e-e-e,
chee-e-e-e-e, for allowing all my geese to be stolen.”

As he went along, while the wound healed, a piece of dried
flesh fell at his feet. Not noticing whence it had come he
picked it up to eat it. Kitche Ganeseesuk flitting about among
the bushes called out, ‘‘ Wisagatchak is eating his own flesh.”
Throwing the piece in his hand against a birch tree he exclaimed,
“Let that be called pusagun (touchwood) forever.”

WISAGATCHAK’sS ADVENTURE WITH THE BEAVER.

One day, as Wisagatchak was going along, he came upona
beaver which was cutting green cottonwoods for food. Seeing
him approaching the beaver sank down, feigning death.

“Why do you not work?” said the manito. Receiving no
answer, he concluded that the animal was dead. He then
fastened a line about its neck and hung it over his shoulder,
having to take off his fire bag to make a place for it. The fire
bag was disposed of by being tied to the beaver’s tail. When
he reached a suitable camping place the manito built a fire and
went to cut four sticks upon which to roast the four quarters
of the beaver. During his absence the beaver escaped. Hear-
ing it splashing in a creek near by he rushed back and dis-
covered its flight.

“ My fire bag! Give me my fire bag,” he cried, but the beaver
only laughed in reply.

214 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

‘My little brother, give me my fire bag,” he again entreated.
The beaver threw out the bag which lodged in a branch above
his head. Wisagatchak saw the image of the fire bag reflected
from the surface of the water and, mistaking it for the object,
reached toward it, not finding it he plunged to the bottom in
search of it; as he turned he caught sight of it in the tree.
Angered by his mishap and planning vengeance upon the beaver
he hastened to its lodge to await its return. After waiting a
long time he fell asleep, in which condition he was discovered
by the whole beaver family which covered him with mud and
sticks up to his neck so that he was quite helpless.

“Now, we will waken him by scratching his face,” said his tor-
mentors, who eluded his pursuit, when he had worked himself
free, by dashing away into the muddy waters of the lake.

Tue Macic Arrows.

As Wisagatchak was going along, he came upon a lodge
whose only occupant was an old wife who informed him that
she lived with her four sons, who were then away hunting.
They returned in the evening, carrying their arrows with their
points uppermost. The young men said nothing, but left the
camp next morning again in search of deer. Wisagatchak’s
curiosity was aroused by their conduct so that he stayed until
evening, when they returned, carrying their arrows in their
hands and having each a deer’s heart upon his back.

‘My sister, I should like to have arrows like those,” said the
manito; at the request of their mother the hunters gave Wisa-
gatchak a handful of the magic arrows and allowed him to
accompany them upon their hunting trip the next day. They
instructed him in the manner of holding the arrows, that when
the heads were pointed upward the person holding them was
borne swiftly through the air; when they were pointed toward
a deer, both arrow and hunter passed through the body of the
animal. Wisagatchak was so successful with his first attempt
that he declared, ‘‘I will go hunting alone, now.”

“You will kill yourself if you miss the ribs,” said the others,
as he left them.

He soon discovered a large moose and, not heeding the warn-
ing, pointed his arrows at its head against which he crashed,
killing the moose and stunning himself. When Wisagatchak

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 218

did not return the old wife was much concerned and sent her
sons to search for him. They soon found him and by blowing
(formerly the principal “medicine” of Northern Indians, vide
Hearne) restored him-to consciousness and brought him back
to their lodge. As they mended the shattered arrows he re-
covered; when they were quite perfect he was well and strong
again.

The young men had a quiver for their arrows which Wisa-
gatchak coveted. That night he stole it and fled. When he
laid down to sleep, at last, he kept the quiver in his grasp.
Toward morning he was awakened by the old wife who said,
“You have been stealing.”

Much to his discomfiture, he found himself once more in the
lodge. The next night he again took the quiver and went
away a long distance. Instead of lying down to sleep he tied
himself to a tree. He was awakened at daylight by the words,
“You have been stealing again,” and he found himself tied to
a tree before the lodge. The woman advised him to ask for
the quiver. He did so and it was given to him. He then set
off upon his travels once more. As he was going along, he
discovered an Indian camp toward which he crawled. Its
inhabitants caught sight of the manito, and fired upon and
nearly killed him. He remembered his quiver of arrows in
time to save himself by flying through the camp.

He Becomes BLInp.

As he continued his endless journey, he heard someone call-
ing for his eyes, and he came upon a medicine man who threw
his eyes into the air, shook his staff at them, and called upon
them to return.

Wisagatchak, of course, was anxious to acquire this power,
and asked, ‘Why do you do that?”

“That is the way I treat them when they are sore,” was the
reply of the magician, who readily divulged the secret to Wisa-
gatchak. He was cautioned not to attempt the feat unless his
eyes really needed treatment. He soon forgot the warning
and exercised his new power with success.

“ That is my trick now,” said he laughing to himself. Pre-
tending that his eyes were sore he again cast them from him,
but instead of returning the eyes fell far beyond his reach. As

216 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

he crept about on his hands and knees searching for them, he
was discovered by a fox which caught up a stick and thrust the
end into the empty eye-sockets of helpless Wisagatchak, caus-
him to cry out with the pain. The fox was delighted with its
success and tried again, but the manito succeeded in catching it.

“Now, I will kill you,” said he.

““Why do you not keep me, and I will lead you about?” asked
the fox. Seeing the wisdom of this, he spared the life of the
fox and continued his journey holding to its tail. Wisagatchak
soon tired of that manner of traveling and told the fox to bring
him some clear spruce gum. When he obtained this, he shaped
two pieces for eyes; after rubbing them a few times he was
able to see a little. Again he rubbed until his sight was wholly
restored. He then released the fox, saying, “Now, make your
own living.”

The fox ran off and soon fell asleep upon a grassy point
which projected into the lake. Wisagatchak fired the grass
and the fox perished in the flames.

EnpD oF WISAGATCHAK.

Continuing his wanderings he fell in with a family of bad
Indians, from whom he endeavored to escape, but was pursued
by muskrats, employed by his enemies to bring him back.
Wisagatchak blew upon the muskrats driving them back, say-
ing, ‘‘ Go, build lodges for your children, and wherever there is
a people they shall know where you live and shall use your
skins.” And the muskrat builds its lodge and is killed for its
fur down to the present day.

But the rats drove Wisagatchak out of this country. The
narrators of the legends all agreed that this was his last adven-
ture 7 America.

ANIMAL MYTHS.
Tue MoosE and THE Hare.

A hare accosted a passing moose one day with the remark,
“You are proud.”

‘Tam no prouder than you are,” was the reply.

“Yes, you are, for ] go into any snare; even a woman’s garter
will catch me. I serve as food for a great many.”

“Tam more benevolent than that, for when a man kills me
he has a great deal of meat.”

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 217

Tue MoosE AND THE JACKFISH.

As a jackfish was lying with its back out of the water, a moose
came down to the stream to drink.

‘You look very proud,” said the jackfish.

“You, also, look very proud,” replied the moose.

““Oh, no! I am kind-hearted; I allow the women and chil-
dren to catch me, and I keep them from starving. But you are
a coward. You run away if you see a man’s track in the bush.”

The moose was angry at this, and struck the fish upon the
head with its forefoot.

“Your head shall always be shaped like my hoof,” said he.
And so it is to this day.

THE OWL AND THE CASCADE.

Pafunagesup, the little owl, was the husband of Wahpenao,
the ptarmigan, and brother of Ohomashoo, the night owl.
Pafunagesup was going along, when he came upon a cascade.
Perching upon a lofty branch of a dead tree, he said to the
waterfall, ‘‘ We shall see who can call the longer.”

The fall stopped and answered, ‘Oh, no, my little grand-
child, you will never call as long as I; for I shall call as long as
the world shall stand.”

“Never mind, I shall call the longer, anyway,” said the vain-
glorious little pafunagesup, as he began his cry. Soon the
cascade again stopped to remonstrate. ‘ My little grandchild,
it is of no use for you to continue, for I shall never stop.”

But the owl would not desist. After a long time, the cas-
cade again ceased its roaring. “Aha!I told you that I would
call longer than you,” said the owl.

“No, I only stopped to warn you, for the last time, that I
shall call forever;” and again they continued. Little pafunage-
sup called and called, until his head dropped off, and his neck
was all worn away, which accounts for the apparently headless
condition of the bird to this day.

How SEA WaTER BECAME UNFIT TO DRINK.

At the beginning, all the small fur-bearing animals were in
constant fear of their lives, owing to the existence of a very
large skunk which preyed upon them. They at last gathered

218 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

to hold a great council to consider ways and means by which
they might rid themselves of the common enemy. It being
reported that the dreaded monster was approaching, the mink
was sent out to reconnoitre. Catching sight of huge footprints
in the distance, the mink, fearing to run across the crust of the
snow, dived beneath it and burrowed his way to the track. He
recognized it at once and hastened back to give the alarm. The
assembly fled in a body and did not halt until they had passed
through a narrow defile in a lofty range of hills. The carcajou
then climbed a tall tree, and reported, ‘‘ From here I can see a
lake. There isa point extending into it and enclosing a bay
shaped like a beaver house. Let us go out on the lake, and
turn back into the bay, there the lynx and I will kill our enemy
the secak.”

In the meantime, the secak had been disturbed at the time
the mink came upon his trail. Turning back upon the track,
he soon came upon the footprints which the mink had dis-
covered. Divining the cause of the tunnel under the snow he
followed it to the deserted camp, where he found an old marten
which had been deserted by the frightened counsellors. The
marten taunted him, saying, ‘‘ You are sharp-nosed, you have
narrow bony jaws. All of the other animals run away from
you, because you are so ugly.”

“My grandmother, here is a little hair-grease for you,” said
the secak, throwing some of his mephitic oil upon, and instantly
killing, the old marten He set off upon the track of the flee-
ing multitude, following them until he came out upon the lake,
where he was seen by the pursued. His tail appeared like a
great sail and the ice cracked beneath his tread. The carcajou,
having taken command, concealed his forces under the snow
and dug tunnels that they might communicate with each other.
The secak came up to the carcajou, which was sitting beside
one of the holes: ‘‘ Why do you all run away across the hills?”

““We are afraid of such an ugly brute as you,” replied the
carcajou, diving into the snow, as the angry skunk strove to
cover him with its oil. The carcajou came up through one of
the numerous passages, and laid hold of the secak from below,
crying, ‘‘I have him! Come, everybody! Strike him! Spear
him!”

They all came pouring forth from their hiding places, bring-

MYTHS OF THE WOOD CREES 219

ing ice-chisels and other weapons. The carcajou called for
the lynx, which had wandered away, but was returning upon
hearing the uproar. Mounting an overhanging branch, he sur-
veyed the situation and wondered what made it so smoky. At
last he was able to distinguish the secak through the haze.
Leaping upon the monster’s back he began to bite and scratch.
He was caught and his legs were bent, as they are to this day.

At last, the secak was killed. The carcajou, totally blind
and covered with the vile odor, asked, ‘Where shall I wash
myself?”

“Go to the big water. Goto the sea. If you wash here it
will spoil our lake.”

They showed him the right course, and he set off to find the
great water. ‘‘ What tree are you?” said he, catching at a stick
now and then as he passed along. One replied, “I am a pine
that stands on the high ground.”

Another said, ‘I am a birch that grows in the valley.” And
at last, ‘I am a willow that grows by the sea.” Then he knew
he was near his journey’s end. Plunging into the water he
cleansed himself thoroughly. Hence the pollution of sea water,
which renders it unfit to drink to the present day.

The carcajou started homeward, loudly proclaiming his
triumph in song. A band of wolves heard him singing and said,
“Let us frighten our little brother.” So they hid themselves
and as he was passing they suddenly sprang out upon him. The
startled carcajou climbed a tree, but quickly descended when
they assured him that it was only a trick. They then journeyed
on together. The carcajou becoming hungry, an old wolf dis-
patched the younger ones after a moose whose track they
crossed, They soon found and killed their game. After eat-
ing the meat, an old wolf remarked: “I am going to make
grease of the bones and you must not look to see how it is done.”

He was grinding up the bones to get the marrow, when the
carcajou, unable to restrain his curiosity, opened his eyes a
little to peep at the performance. Scarcely had he done so
when he received a terrific blow in the face which flattened it;
and so, as a reward for his curiosity, it remains to this day.

The other animals held a council after the departure of the
carcajou to consider what should be done with the carcass of
the secak. They finally decided to cut it up and scatter the

220 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

pieces all over the world for fear it might regain its life. This
was done; and accounts for the small size and wide distribution
of this pretty but unsavory animal.

TEENA’S STORY.

Teena was an old Loucheux, who lived at McPherson. Some
time after the establishment of the Anglican mission he called
on Archdeacon McDonald and related the following:

“T have been out hunting. I had no luck away there, but
as I was crossing a small prairie I saw a little smoke before me,
which seemed to move away as I went on. I found it strange,
but kept on, thinking what a fun to have a camp ready made.
At last I came up, and found to my suprise that it was the
devil who was sitting before the fire.

‘“*Can I camp with you?’ said I.

‘““* Ves, lay some brush for yourself there,’ said he.

““*T have no luck of late in hunting,’ said I.

“Tt is the same with me,’ said he. ‘Ever since the mission
was started I have had no luck at all here. I have been around
two or three days this trip and have no one yet.’ ”

NATURAL HISTORY

MAMMALS

HE primary object of the expedition was to collect mam-
mals, especially the larger ones, and birds. There was
little time to follow other lines of investigation, which would
have received attention by a better equipped and larger party.
Previous experience had taught me that ‘the only way to col-
lect is to collect,” which induced me to spend every available
hour in the field.

A great deal of labor was required which did not directly
advance the scientific purposes of the expedition; a month’s
time was lost in Winnipeg, weeks and months were spent in
traveling.

The region traversed extends from the Saskatchewan River
to the mouth of the Mackenzie, and from Lake Winnipeg and
Bathurst Inlet to the Rocky Mountains, embracing an area of
nearly a million square miles.

The Indians and Eskimos that inhabit this vast territory are
carnivorous beings. They are provided with firearms, with
which they kill nearly every living thing which it is in their
power to destroy, without mercy or discrimination. Most of
the mammals here considered have a commercial value at the
trading stations, either for their flesh or skins, or both. There
are about fifteen species of the order carnivora, also preying
upon the animal life of the region. “It is a country of death.”

Throughout the valleys of the Peace and Saskatchewan Riv-
ers there are more or less extensive prairies. But the country
in general is wooded, except the Barren Ground, which occu-
pies the northeastern portion of the continent, beyond the line
drawn between the mouth of the Churchill River, and Richards
Island at the mouth of the Mackenzie. This limit of forest
growth corresponds closely to the summer isotherm of 50° F.?

1 See Report on the Forests of North America; by Chas. S. Sargent,

Tenth Census of the United States.
2 Seebohm, Henry, in the Geographical Fournal, London, Vol. II, p. 337.

223

224 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

ABBREVIATIONS USED.

CG; : . é : : : . Cree

D.R., ‘ j j : ; : Dog Rib

35 Slavey

Ii, Loucheux
Cariacus macrotus (Say). Mure DEER.

This species is now becoming rare in Alberta among the
eastern foothills of the Rocky Mountains. One specimen, the
head of a male, with Jarge antlers.

Rangifer tarandus caribou (Kerr). WooDLanD CarIBOU-
Tan-tzi, D. R. Be-tsi, S.

The antlers of this species which ] have seen have a flatter
beam than those of the Barren Ground caribou. They are
never symmetrical. I obtained a pair from an old medicine
man near Cedar Lake, who had kept them because of their
symmetry, which, however, was not perfect; the brow tines are
heavy and slightly palmated, the bez tines are flat and broad,
but not expanded at their points, and are proportionately
larger than in the other variety of caribou.

Southwest of the Great Slave Lake we frequently came upon
their trails on the small prairies, where they had plowed up the
snow over considerable areas in their efforts to reach the grass.

They are usually found in bands of four or five. I was told
by the Indians that they did not occur east of the Northern
Arm of the Great Slave Lake, but west of it, on the traverse
between Rae and Providence. I crossed several of their trails
between Birch and Lion Lakes. The woodland caribou is un-
known at McPherson.

Their skins are said (by Richardson) to be infested with
gadfly grubs, as are those of the Barren Ground caribou, but
the dressed leather traded at Grand Rapids and Resolution
showed no trace of grub holes. The leather made from their
skins is nearly as heavy as moose leather but, as I learned from
sad experience, without its wearing qualities.

The flesh is traded by the Indians, who receive 5 MB for a
whole caribou, and from 3 to 6 MB for a dressed skin.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 225

They occur in the wooded portions of this region south of
the Great Bear Lake.

Represented in the collection by a fine pair of antlers from
the Saskatchewan.

Rangifer tarandus (Zznz.). BARREN GROUND CarRIBou.!
Ek-wo’, Wé-tsi, D. R. Vith-zi, L. No-ti, S.

The Barren Ground and woodland caribou are the only Amer-
ican cervide which have antlers in both sexes. These are shed
so irregularly that some individuals in a herd may be seen
with them at any season. The new horn begins to grow late in
April. It had just appeared on the heads of the caribou which
we killed at the termination of my musk-ox trip. The velvet
is not all cleared off until November. The old males are the
first to shed their antlers; some of those which I secured late
in November would probably have cast them very soon, as they
broke away easily in handling the heads. While in the Barren
Ground, in March and April, I saw large numbers of both sexes
with antlers, and on the fifth of April killed a buck, four or
five years of age, still bearing them. One of those collected
in November, 1893 (No. 10,802), a male of two years, carried
simple spikes, 18 inches in length; 2 inches above the head they
are flattened laterally and curved backward. The terminal
third curves upward and inward and is again compressed ob-
liquely; the greatest spread is 13 inches. The antlers of No.
10,811 have a spread of 3 feet, and are 3 feet 7 inches in length.
One brow tine is a spike, the other a plow, 8% inches in width.
The bez tines resemble a half closed hand. The crown con-
tains 4 points on the right and 5 on the left side. Another
large male (No 10,808), has antlers fully as long as those of the
preceding but with a much heavier beam and with palmated
crown tines.

The Barren Ground caribou is called the reindeer, caribou,
or, most commonly, deer, in the North. It is provided in sum-
mer with a covering of soft hair, not exceeding an inch in
length, of a uniform brown above and a lighter shade on the
lower parts. The natives hunt them in August and September
for their skins which are then in their best condition for being

1 See p. 88, ante.
15

226 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

made into clothing; later the long, coarse hair of winter appears,
which is heavy and easily broken. Their color in winter—roan
—readily assimilates with the gray-hued, moss-hung pines.

Albinism is so rare among them that old Dog Ribs assured
me that they had never seen a “white deer.” Yet I secured
an excellent mountable specimen (No. 10,820) which had been
killed by the Yellow Knives, who hunt northeast of the Great
Slave Lake. This animal, an adult male, was entirely white,
except the head, which was but little lighter in color than it
should have been in a normal condition. They feed in winter
upon dried grass—I have seen acres of snow pawed over in
search for it—and the cream colored “reindeer moss” (Cla-
donia rangiferina), one of the commonest lichens on the hills of
the region.

The caribou are gregarious, ordinarily ranging in bands of
a few score, but during their migrations gathering in vast herds
containing thousands of individuals. They seem to have moved
eastward, as they have entirely deserted the timbered country
along the Mackenzie River. They are not abundant in winter
around Rae, where they were killed by hundreds ten years ago.
Only one small band crossed the lake toward the west during
the winter of 1893-4. Thousands remain in the Barren Ground
with the musk-ox, never reaching the timber at all; the others
gather in immense herds in October when they enter the woods
and work southward as far as the Great Slave Lake, Lake
Athabasca, and Reindeer Lake. North of the Great Slave Lake
between longitude 109° and 118° W., the greater part of those
which enter the timber are massed together into a single herd,
which is so erratic in its movements that the Indians, who
depend entirely upon the caribou for food, are often reduced
to the verge of starvation. They move against the wind so
that the direction—whether toward Rae or Fond du Lac— de-
pends upon the prevailing winds during the last fortnight in
October. In March they return to the edge of the woods. It
is said that only the females reach the sea coast, where they
drop their young in June, but I have seen both sexes wading in
the shoal water of the Arctic Ocean, south of Herschel Island,
in July.

West of the Mackenzie they are still abundant along the bar-
ren coast and in the mountains south of it. They migrate

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 224

southward in autumn, but how far, is not known. Rampart
House was a “deer post,” being situated in a pass traversed
semiannually by the caribou.

The whalers reported that the caribou were abundant among
the islands between the mouth of the Mackenzie and Cape
Bathurst in July, 1894. They also declared that they saw
steam arising from hot springs around which the natives say
that the caribou become mired in quicksands.

Hearne has described the habits of this species and given an
account of the method of capture. The Copper Indians of
that time built large pounds into which the caribou were driven
and captured within the enclosure by the use of snares. One
of these snares (No. 10,839), which I obtained from the Dog
Ribs, is 9 feet in length and made into a hard line .25-inch in
diameter from 6 twisted strands of babiche. During a year’s
stay in the country I saw but two such snares; their use has
been practically abandoned by the Yellow Knives and Dog
Ribs of the present day. At the time of Hearne’s visit the
caribou were also killed with spears made of copper from the
Copper Mountains. At the present time thousands are slaugh-
tered by being speared in the back while swimming across the
long narrow lakes which are so abundant in the Barren Ground.
The spears are now made from old files which are drawn out
into a shank 8 to 12 inches in length, with a diamond shaped
head 1 inch in width (see specimen No. 10,843). Hundreds
are killed from a single band in this way; the light canoes sur-
round them, the bewildered creatures are herded together until
within reach of the long, slender spears, a single thrust of which
is sufficient to kill.

In winter they are now hunted with muzzle-loading trade
guns. When the caribou are wary and few in number, the
hunter pursues them upon snow-shoes, stalking if the contour
of the country permits. When they are abundant, the hunter
takes his stand at the margin of an ice-covered lake upon which
converging lines of pine brush, laid at intervals of fifteen or
twenty yards, have been placed; the caribou will not cross the
lines but approach the concealed hunter, who usually kills
several before the band makes off. On one occasion two
frightened caribou approached my line at full speed; when
they caught sight of it they stopped, turned back and again

228 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

came on, advancing each foot cautiously, as if trying unsafe
ice, until past the barrier. When I hunted them with dogs, I
could but pity their stupidity; when a mile from their pursuers,
with the woods and safety near at hand, they often turned
abruptly and came flying back into danger.

The Barren Ground caribou is of great value to both the
Indians and Eskimos. Some bands of Crees, Chippewyans,
Caribou Eaters, Yellow Knives, Dog Ribs, Slaveys, Hares,
Loucheux, and Rat Indians depend almost entirely upon them
for food and skins for lodges and clothing. Every part of the
animal is utilized; the antlers, before the advent of the whites,
were used for ice chisels, the name for this tool and horn being
the same in the Dog Rib language; later, they were bored out
to make powder flasks, but are now discarded with the hoofs.
The flesh, including portions of the intestines, the feet, tendons,
and blood are eaten. The tongues were formerly dried and
salted for export by the Company. The unborn calf, the udder
of a milk-giving cow, the tongue, the marrow, and the back-fat
are the parts held in highest esteem.

Although I lived for two months with the Dog Ribs and spent
a year in their territory, I never saw them eat the contents of a
caribou’s stomach,! though I have frequently seen them empty
the stomach to use it as a receptacle for containing the blood.
until frozen.

A gadfly (thought to be Hypoderma lineata by Dr. Riley, but
in the absence of specimens it is uncertain) deposits its eggs
in the backs of the caribou, in some individuals to the number
of several hundred, which renders the skins utterly useless for
leather. The grubs were well developed in the latter part of
April when I left the Barren Ground. The Indians did not
remove them from pieces of meat destined for the kettle.
Hearne says of them:? “The Indians, however, never could
pursuade me to eat the warbles, of which some of them are re-
markably fond, particularly the children. They are always eaten
raw and alive out of the skin and are said by those who like
them to be as fine as gooseberries.” Richardson writes: “It is.
worthy of remark that in the month of May a very great num-
ber of large larvee exist under the mucous membrane at the:

1 Compare Hearne, Journal, p. 316.
» Ibid, p. 197.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 229

root of the tongue and posterior part of the nares and pharynx.
The Indians consider them to belong to the same species with
the oestrus that deposits its ova under the skin; to us the larve
of the former appeared more flattened than those of the latter.”
This variety of caribou is found only in the Barren Ground, in
summer; hence it occurs only along the northern and north-
eastern border of this region.

They are becoming restricted in their range east of the
Mackenzie, but after seeing them in their thousands in the
Barren Ground, it hardly seems possible that they will be ex-
terminated for many years to come as none are killed by white
men, except a few by whalers or exploring expeditions, owing
to the comparative inaccessibility of the territory which they
inhabit. The Eskimos are driving them from their hunting
grounds by the use of repeating rifles. The Indians are also
beginning to use improved weapons with disastrous effect.

Ten specimens, seven skins and two heads at Rae; one albino
from Fond du Lac, Great Slave Lake.

Alces machlis (Zzz7.). Moose.
Mus-wa, C. Tén-di, D. R. Tit-gik, L. Co-15, S.

I have followed the classification of Flower and Lydekker
who consider the American and European elk as varieties of a
single species. The large size of the moose and its imposing
antlers has made it a favorite subject for the taxidermist, yet
the ordinary mounted specimen gives us but an imperfect idea
of the grandeur and majesty of bearing of the moose in its
native forest—the moss-hung conifers of sub-arctic regions.
The great palmated antlers without brow or bez tines, the long
slim legs, and the pendulous lip but add to its homeliness,
when removed from its natural surroundings.

The moose when alarmed makes off at a shambling trot
which is said to be swift enough to soon distance a man, yet in
September, 1892, I ran in pursuit of a three year-old moose
that had been thoroughly frightened, upon which I gained a
hundred yards in a half a mile and which I succeeded in kill-
ing. Hearne states that, “Of all the large beasts in those parts
the buffalo is easiest to kill and the moose are the most diffi-
cult.”1 Having successfully stalked them in September and

1 Fourney, p. 254.

230 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

October, both with and without Indians, I am satisfied that a
white man can secure them without the aid of natives. They
are killed along the rivers from the decks of steamers, which
they will allow to approach within rifle range. In winter they
are stalked as in summer, though when the snow is very deep
they are said to be pursued by runners upon snow-shoes. Dur-
ing two winters in the north I knew of no instance where they
were so hunted. From two to five are usually found together,
and it is very seldom that the Indian hunter does not succeed
in killing more than one of them.

The flesh of the moose is preferred to that of the caribou,
whether fresh or dried. Moccasins, gloves, mittens, coats,
lodges, harness, gun covers, sled wrappers, boats, etc., are made
from the skins. Thread is made from the sinew of the back,
and skin scrapers from the long bones. From 2 to 5 dollars is
paid for a dressed skin and about half as much for the meat.

Mooseskins are supplied to all Company’s posts, where the
moose are not found, from which to make moccasins, etc., for
officers and servants.

The moose is found throughout the wooded portion of this
region and even beyond the timber line among the willow-
covered islands of the Mackenzie Delta. William Flett, the
interpreter at Fort Smith, one of the most intelligent of the
Loucheux, declares that the moose west of Rampart House
(abandoned 1893) have hoofs like the mountain goat. They
are said to be very numerous and easily approached in the
mountains west of Norman.

McConnell speaks of the region between the Devil’s Portage
and Hell Gate on the Liard River as “probably the best moose
country in North America.”! They are common west of the
Northern Arm of the Great Slave Lake but rare east of it.?
The Indians assert that this is due to the presence during a
part of the year of the Barren Ground caribou. I think it quite
as likely that the absence of proper food for a browsing animal
may account for such distribution.

Sir Alexander Mackenzie states that, in 1789, moose were not
found north of the mouth of the Liard River (61° 34’ N.); this

1 Ann. Rep. Geo. Sur. of Canada, Vol. IV, p. 46.
2 According to King they have been found as far to the northeast as the
Fish River, east of the Great Slave Lake. Marrative, Vol. I, p. 192.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 231

must have been an error as they were common throughout the
Mackenzie valley in the early part of this century upon the
advent of the traders. The Loucheux of the lower Mackenzie
have a tradition that the moose have migrated from the west-
ward. Three specimens, Grand Rapids.

Bison Americanus Gwelzn. BuFFALO.!

The wood buffalo, or—to use a more exact term—woodland
bison, is described as larger and darker than the buffalo of the
plains; this I believe to be partly due to the fact that our
knowledge of the northern variety is based on the study of
skins taken at the most favorable season of the year and under
circumstances which would cause the largest animals to be
killed. The herd at present consists of a few hundred only.
They are so wary that but one effective shot can be fired when
they betake themselves to instant flight, and, as with the moose,
pursuit is altogether futile. They cannot be hunted in summer
as the country which they inhabit is an impenetrable, mosquito-
infested, wooded swamp at that season. The Little Buffalo
River is unfit for navigation and the lakes and ponds cannot be
utilized as water routes. They can only be killed by stalking
in midwinter when their pelage is at its best.

There is an abundance of grass on the “little prairies” and
on the borders of the small lakes which everywhere abound;
this, of course, must be uncovered by the buffalo in winter as
they do not browse. Ogilvie states? that twenty-eight years ago
a heavy fall of rain in one of the winter months saturated the
snow, which formed a heavy crust of ice and prevented the
buffaloes from grazing, which resulted in their almost complete
extermination.

The Indians along the Peace and Slave Rivers make occa-
sional trips into the buffalo country with dog teams to establish
lines of marten traps. When they discover a band of buffaloes
they of course kill as many as they can, but they have not
made systematic efforts to hunt them for their robes, as they have
the musk-ox. Fortunately, the officers of the Company have
exerted their influence toward the preservation of the buffalo,
not trading for the robes, until the recent advent of rival traders.

1 For description of buffalo hunt, see p. 100, ante.
® Ogilvie, William, Ann. Rep. Geo. of Canada, Vol. —, p. 39.

232 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

During the winter of 1892-3 forty buffaloes were killed, the
largest number that had been secured for several years. I saw
most of these robes which were very dark, the hair thick and
curled, making a robe superior to that of either musk-ox or
plains buffalo; they were so large that the Indians had cut
many of them in halves for convenience in hauling on the sleds.

From 20 to 100 MB are paid for the robes. The traders are
trying to induce the Indians to preserve them as mountable skins.

The northern limit of the range of the buffalo, as given by
Mackenzie, was the Horn Mountains, north of the Little Lake.
Pére Ruore, of the Saint Michel Mission at Rae, who has crossed
the Rae-Providence traverse several times, assured me that he
had seen buffalo skulls on the prairies which lie within fifty
miles of Providence, northwest of the western end of the Great
Slave Lake. I saw no remains of buffaloes when I crossed
these prairies in December, owing to the snow, but the country
is similar to that south of the lake where they are still found.

Black Head, an old Yellow Knife chief, living at the mouth
of the Riviére au Jean, told me that he had killed “plenty of
buffaloes” in the delta of the Slave River. About fifteen years
ago a few were killed near Liard, but they are seldom seen in
that quarter. They formerly frequented the ‘Salt Plains,”
forty miles northeast of Fort Smith. Franklin’s party killed a
buffalo in that vicinity at the time of their visit in 1820.! Rich-
ardson states that in 1848 there was an abundance of deer and
buffalo meat obtainable on the Salt Plains.?

They are at present confined to the neutral ground between
the Chippewyans and the Beavers.

The Rev. C. G. Wallace, in 1892, found the skull of a fossil
buffalo (B. antiquus ?) on the Porcupine River, and others have
been reported from the Yukon valley.

The collection contains a very large skull of the plains buf-
falo, which was secured at Pincher Creek, Alberta.

Ovibos moschatus (Blaznv.). Musk-ox
Et-jir-er, D. R. Uk-ki, L. Ota ét-jir-ér, S.

The musk-ox is a short-limbed, heavily-built animal, weigh-

1Franklin, Sir John, Varrative, p. 177.
2 Arctic Searching Expedition, p. 149.

NATURAL HISTORY.—_MAMMALS 233

ing, according to Parry, about 700 pounds; the head and hide
130 pounds.}

The pelage in winter is much darker than it is in late spring—
the season during which they are hunted for their skins. They
are nearly black on the head, neck, and sides. The back is of a
dark seal brown except an oval patch, a toot in length, over the
lumbar region. This ‘white spot” is the only part of the body
where the under wool is not hidden by the longer hair. It is
of a dark chestnut underneath but bleached to cream buff on
the surface. The long hair of the flanks is black with a lighter
brown intermingled. The legs, below the “knees,” are pro-
tected by short hair only, pale grayish in color. The long hair
of the hump is curled and about 8 inches in length. The coarse
outer hair on the other parts is straight, attaining a length of
20 inches on the throat and over 30 on the flanks.

The Barren Ground, which they inhabit, is a vast area of
tugged hills; most of them are boulder-strewn, with mosses,
lichens, and occasional plots of short grass on slopes that have
not been denuded of soil; in places, high, rolling hills of gravel
occur. We invariably found the musk-ox among the boulders
at the summits of the highest hills. These rocks afforded but
partial concealment, however, as the color of the musk-ox is
too dark to assimilate readily with its surroundings at any sea-
son. They probably frequented the hill tops because the high
winds, which prevail in that region, sweep away the snow, ena-
bling the animals to graze with little digging. ;

There are usually twenty or thirty in a‘band, but they some-
times assemble in herds containing over a hundred. Hearne
states that, ‘there are only two or three males in each band
which is under the leadership of an old bull.” In one band of
eleven which we killed there were eight males; in another, in
which twenty-five were killed, there were only two females, and
from this herd I shot four bulls which broke away from the dogs
together; all were of the largest size and evidently quite old.

The musk-ox presents an imposing appearance with his huge,
shaggy head and formidable horns. The thick coat exagger-
ates his size; the erect mane gives the appearance of a large
hump which in reality only rises 2% inches above the line of
the back.

1 Supplement to App. to First Voyage, p. 190.

234 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

The length of one of the males (No. 10,775) from end of nose
to root of tail exceeded 7 feet. The circumference of the
body next the fore legs, after the skin had been removed, was
64 inches; depth of chest, 26 inches; circumference of neck,
30 inches; of fore leg next the body, 15 inches. The measure-
ments of the four large males referred to above varied but a trifle.

The horns of the males are expanded and flattened until they
cover the crown of the skull for a distance of 10 inches back
of the eyes. They havea spread (No. 10,775) of 26 inches and
a total length of 29.

The orbital ring is very prominent, projecting 2% inches
from the maxilla, thus carrying the eyes beyond the thick
woolly covering of the head. In skinning the heads I found a
mass of matted hair and dirt tightly wedged under the horns
against the side of the head. The horns are not united in the
oldest bulls, but are always separated along the median line bya
space of a quarter of an inch which is filled by fine, grayish hair.

The flesh, in April, was well flavored without the slightest
perceptible taint of musk. The animals from which it was
taken were very fat; the fat itself was clear white, sometimes
with a tinge of azure. Major Fielden says,} ‘The cause of the
disagreeable odor which frequently taints the flesh of these
animals has received no elucidation from my observations. It
does not appear to be confined to either sex or to any particular
season of the year; for a young, unweaned animal, killed at its
mother’s side and transferred within an hour to the stew-pans
was as rank and objectionable as any. The flesh of some of
these animals of which I have partaken was dark, tender, and
as well flavored as that of four-year old Southdown mutton.
* * * * Leaves and stems of willow, with grasses, were in
the stomachs I examined.” Richardson observes, ‘‘that when
the animal is in good condition the odor of musk is not notice-
able, but when lean both bulls and cows smell strongly of
musk.” The marrow is large and white in the heavy leg bones,
and is highly prized by the natives; they are also very fond of
the foetal calves, which by the middle of April seemed fully
developed; the skins of these are purchased by the traders
who have caps, etc., made from them; the hair is short, dark
brown, and curled.

1 Zoologist, Vol. I, 3rd Series, p. 358.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 235

The Indians kill the musk-ox simply for the robes. The
flesh is wasted, except an insignificant quantity which is con-
sumed by the hunters and their dogs on the spot. They de-
pend upon killing caribou on the way to and from the territory
inhabited by the musk-ox, so that no meat is taken away.
The musk-ox have been driven back so far into the Barren
Ground that they are not now hunted in summer. The robes
are trimmed nearly square by cutting away a broad strip along
the breast where the hide is thick and the hair long; experi-
ence has taught the hunter that he will get 50 MB for the robe
be it large or small, so he cuts it down in order to make room
on the sled for a larger number.

It is commonly supposed that the musk-ox form in a circle
when surrounded by the dogs, which are released from the har-
ness to chase and round them up. I had an excellent oppor-
tunity to observe their behavior on one occasion, when we ap-
proached within thirty yards of a dozen musk-ox, held at bay
by as many dogs. They were in two groups about twenty feet
apart, an old bull standing between them. They were not
formed in a circle nor in two circles, but all turned toward any
dog which ventured too near, seldom lowering the head but
standing firmly, the head in line with the back. Two other
herds, when pursued by the dogs, scattered in all directions;
they would run a few yards, then turn to dash at the dogs as
they closed in, repeating this performance until overtaken by
the hunters to whom they fell an easy prey. Pike says,! “There
is an idea prevalent in the North that on these occasions the
old musk-ox form into a regular square, with the young in the
center, for better protection against the dogs, which they im-
agine to be wolves; but on the two occasions when I sawa
band held in this manner, the animals were standing in a con-
fused mass, shifting their position to make a short run at a too
impetuous dog, and with the young ones as often as not in the
front of the line.”

The musk-ox was formerly common between the Mackenzie
and Behring Straits, as evidenced by the remains which are
scattered over the tundra. The oldest natives at Point Barrow
say that their fathers killed musk-ox which were then abun-
dant. Their present distribution is from the vicinity of the

1 Barren Ground of Canada, p. 104.

236 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Mackenzie north of the Great Bear Lake to Sabine Island
(74°45’ N.) on the east coast of Greenland, and from 60°N. in
the Barren Ground west of Hudson’s Bay through the North-
ern Islands as far as man has penetrated.

Five specimens killed near Bathurst Inlet.

Ovis montana Czv. MounTAIN SHEEP.

I attempted to secure specimens of big horn in southwestern
Alberta in April, 1893,1 but was unsuccessful. I afterward
learned that the Stoneys use dogs in hunting them at that sea-
son. Two specimens, a skull, and a head bearing horns 14%
inches in circumference and 32 inches long, weighing, without
the lower jaw, 24 pounds.

Ovis montana dalli (/Veds.).2 ALASKA MounTAIN SHEEP.?

The specimen of this rare animal, secured by Mr. Russell
through the kindness of Capt. F.C. Murray, of Herschel Island,
is an adult male in good condition. The pelage is coarse, like
that of the common mountain sheep, but very thick and heavy,
the individual hairs being 5-6 inches long. The color is white
throughout, with a yellowish wash on the forehead and in front
of the tarsi.

The most conspicuous anatomical difference between this
form and C. montana is in the shape of the horns, which are
much more spreading in the former, one specimen showing a
spread of 2 ft. 5 in. between the tips, and another 1 ft. 3 in.
The common form shows a spread of only I ft. 5 in. and 1 ft.
in the two specimens before me. The arctic specimens have
much larger and more distinctly separated corrugations on the
basal half of the horn than are found in the specimens of the
southern form with which they were compared. The distal
portion of the former is more conspicuously flattened than in
the latter, and the proximal portion more distinctly triangular
in cross-section. There is also a notable difference in the rela-
tive size of the hoofs.

The following measurements of mounted specimens will show

1 See p. 47, ante.

2 Proceedings U.S. Nat’l Mus., Vol. VII, p. 12.

These specimens having been received during the absence of the author,
this description is contributed by the curator of the museum.

NATURAL HISTOR Y—MAMMALS 237

the comparative proportions of C. montana dalli and C. montana,
as represented by a good mounted specimen of each:

C. MONTANA

DALLI. C. MONTANA.
Ft. In. Ft. In,
Length from muzzle to base of tail, 5 2 5 65%
Height at fore shoulder, . 2 10% a AE
Girth back of fore shoulder, 3 9% 4
“in front of hind shoulder, . 4 2 4 1
Length of fore leg to body (inside) 1 8% I 9
os hind « 8 ff a eB 8 2 3
Muffleto baseofhorn, ....... 8% 9%
a ~ BAT ee Oe Be ek I a
Distance betweeneyes, . . ..... 7 7
Lengthofear, .........., 4% 5
Circumference of neck, 2 #1 2
Length of horn, . 2 6% 2 6
Around base of horn, . 1 1% I
Spread of horns, . eae Gi Se Weak. Aigo abe 26 i) 32
Length of front hoof,. . . ae i 2% 4
Circumference of front hoof, . ... . 1 9%
Elevation of “dew claws,” front foot, . . 3 3%
“ “ “ hind « ‘ 2 3%
Length of longest hairs,. . . . 2... 5% 3

The above measurements show that var. dal/7 is a heavier and
stockier form with more conspicuously corrugated horns hav-
ing a greater spread, with much longer hair, shorter hoofs and
less elevated ‘dew claws” than its southern relative.

A comparison of the skulls of these two forms does not dis-
close differences which may not be due to age or other purely
individual causes. c. c. N.

Haploceros montanus Aich. MountTAIN GOAT.

A head obtained from the Stoneys is among the specimens
from Pincher Creek.

Putiorius erminea (Zz7z.) ERMINE.
Si-kwe-su, C.
Common throughout most of the region visited. The skins

are purchased by the Saskatchewan traders for 5 cents each,
I do not think that they are traded in the North.

238 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Seventeen specimens were secured; one at Rae, just assuming
the winter pelage; three at Grand Rapids; and thirteen skulls
from Cedar Lake.

Mephiticus mephitica (Saw). SKUNK.
Si-kak, C.

Common on the Lower Saskatchewan, where the skins are
purchased by the traders for 50 to 75 cents. It is unknown to
the Dog Ribs who have no name in their language for it.

One specimen, Grand Rapids.

Lutreola vison (Schreder). MINK.
Sak-we-su, C. Té&ch-u, D. R. Chi-tha, L. Teh-u, S.

The mink is decreasing though still comparatively common
throughout the wooded portion of this region; they are some-
what rare at the mouth of the Mackenzie. They are taken in
“mink traps ’—number 1% steel traps. The Dog Ribs, fearing
the evil consequences which may ensue if a minkskin is kept
in the lodge, always put them on a tree or scaffold outside.

The price paid varies from 1 to 3 MB.

One specimen in the collection, from Grand Rapids.

Mustela americana 7z77on. MartTeEn.
Wa-pin-is-tan, C. Noéh-we,D.R. Tsuk, L. Noth-a, S.

The marten is the most abundant of the carnivores of this
region. Five or six thousand are annually obtained at a single
station.

They are much darker in the southern portion than they are
north of the parallel of 61° N. They are also said to be larger
in the southern districts, but I had no opportunity to verify this
by an extensive series of measurements. I have never heard
of albinos among them but I saw a light, tawny yellow skin at
Simpson, which was received during 1893.

They are sometimes caught in steel traps, but the greater
part of them are caught in “marten traps ””—simple dead falls.
These are quickly and easily made and are quite as effective
as more expensive traps.

The fur is not used by the Indians save for an occasional

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 239
cap, but the sale of marten skins is the only source of revenue of
many of them. They receive from 1 to 3 MB fora prime skin.

The traders assert that the marten is subject to periodic mur-
rains, as is the varying hare, but when these periods occurred
and whether at seven year intervals they did not know. The
marten is found throughout the wooded portions of this region.
They are not decreasing in numbers except in some of the
southern districts.

Two specimens, Crow Nest Pass.

Mustela pennanti 27x. FISHER.!
U-tcek, C. En-e-i-wo?, D. R. No-tha-cho, S.

This species, usually called the Pekan in literature, is known
in the North as the fisher. They are described by the trappers
as “big black marten”; the Slavey name signifies “‘ big marten.”

They are caught in dead falls, similar to but heavier than
those used for martens. Steel traps are also used.

Prime skins are worth from 10 to 15 MB in the country.

They are not common anywhere in thisregion. They extend
northward as far as the Great Slave Lake, but are not found
between Lake Athabasca and the Great Slave Lake except
along the Slave River. They have been seen just north of the
Mackenzie at Providence. A trader who has spent twenty
years in the North assured me that he had seen but one fisher
in the Mackenzie District and that one was taken at Lake Bischo
in 1881.

Lutra hudsonica (Zac.). OTTER.
Nék-ik, C. Nom-bi, Tcho, L. Nim-bA, S.

The otter is one of the rarest of the fur bearing mammals of
the North.

I have seen an otter track in the snow near Rae in Novem-
ber far from open water.

The finest skins are said to come from the Peace River Dis-
trict. I was told by a former resident of Nelson (abandoned
in 1893) that the otter was comparatively common there, but
that the superstition of the Indians prevented them from killing
the animal. At many other posts the natives prefer to bring

1 See p. 102, ante.

240 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the animal unskinned to the trader or, if they do the work them-
selves, the skin must be kept outside the lodge.

They are worth from 10 to 15 MB.

The otter is found as far as the Arctic Coast but does not
enter the Barren Ground. Hearne! gives 62° N.as its northern
limit on Hudson’s Bay.

Gulo luscus Sad. CARCAJOU.
Kwi-kwe-ke-o, C.

This species is called in the North the carcajou, the name
wolverine being almost unknown. The caracajou is cordially
hated for his thieving propensities, which impel him to rob
caches enclosed in frozen earth, beneath heavy stones, or in
trees. The Crees engaged to travel from the Saskatchewan to
Selkirk with me deposited fish at three places for use on their
return. They cut a pit in the ice large enough to contain the
fish, then broke a hole, through which the water rose, and soon
enclosed the fish in solid ice; the snow drifting over it no sign
of a cache remained to attract the carcajous or foxes.

The carcajou is too cunning to be taken in the ordinary trap
but is sometimes caught in a modified form of the dead fall.
Most of those secured are shot.

The skins are worth from 5 to ro MB in the interior, but along
the coast they are more highly valued by the Eskimos who use
them for trimming their skin clothing. The Eskimos pay the
Loucheux and Rat Indians a higher price for the carcajou skins
than do the traders. The whalers even bring the skins from
San Francisco to trade to the Eskimos. The carcajous are
decreasing in the southern part of this region throughout which
they occur. They are common in the Barren Ground and I
have seen them within fifty miles of Mackenzie Bay.

Felis canadensis Aa/. CanaDa Lynx.
No-ta, D. R. Ni-chi, L. No-tha, S.

The lynx is said to have the same periodicity of increase as

the northern hare upon which it preys. They should have

been at their maximum during the winter of 1893-4 but in the
Great Slave Lake region, where I then was, the “pishew” or

1 Fourney, Pp. 374,

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 241

“link” was by no means common, They are decreasing in
numbers, but not because of the decrease of the hares. Districts
which a few years ago received thousands of lynx skins now
obtain but a few hundred. The Crees make a very warm and
serviceable robe from the fur of lynxs’ feet when the animals
are abundant. The price varies from 2 to 6 MB.

They are usually caught in snares similar to those set for
hares, but with a larger springe ora heavier weight. One which
we passed in a York boat on the Athabasca River stared at us
until we were within fifty yards before it thought best to make
off. They occur in all the wooded portions of this region.
They have been killed on the islands in the delta of the Mac-
kenzie.

The flesh is white and is considered equal to that of the hare
for food.

Canis lupus (Zz). WoLrF.

Mi-hi-kin, C. Ti-ka, D. R. Zo-ttk-i, white; Zo-rhi, black, L.
Ti-ka, S.

They are not killed in considerable numbers anywhere, and
the number of skins seen was too small to make any study of
variation of color. At one Slave Lake post, only one gray
wolfskin has been received during the last five years. In a
band of half a dozen, which pursued me some distance in the
Barren Ground, two were snow-white, the others were a light
gray.

While in the Barren Ground we heard them nightly, howling
about some musk-ox carcass, near our camp. On one occasion
three of our party left their guns lying beside fallen musk-ox
which they were to skin the next morning; during the night
the wolves ate the gun-covers. One of our dogs, which ven-
tured too far from camp, was devoured.

During the winter a large wolf was seen at Willow River, near
Rae, trying to entice the dogs away from the buildings by its
gambols. It kept whisking about as if in play, at the same
time working farther away, followed by the younger dogs
which were disposed to join in its sport and would soon have
fallen easy victims had not the marauder been discovered.!

1“ These animals which are here large and formidable, often roamed at

16

242 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Wolfskins are purchased from the Indians for from 6to 10 MB.
Wolves are found throughout this region, but are not abun-
dant in any portion visited except in the Barren Ground.

Canis vulpes 2272. Fox.

Red, U-se-se-witk-is-u; Cvoss, ; Szlver, Su-ni-au-tk-i-su,
Black, Kis-ki-la-mtik-e-su, C.

Red, Ni-ki-te-kwo®; Cyoss, Nit-ki-ak-lén-i-tzu; Sz/ver, Ni-ki-wi-
lan-di; Black, Nii-ki-te-zo", D. R.

Red, Ek-o-tso; Cross, Nin-i-lri; Sz/ver, ; Black, Ak-e-ri, L.

Red, Niin-ki-de-¢o; Cross, Niin-ki-de-zo"-be-ke-te-co-de-ze;
Silver, Niin-ki-de-zo"-be-ge-le-ko-te-ge; Black, Niin-ki-de-

zoo, S,

While I saw several hundred foxskins during my journey, I
have had no opportunity to study either specimens or the
literature concerning them sufficiently to feel justified in plac-
ing the fox in a separate genus from those admittedly belong-
ing to the genus Camis. Flower and Lydekker! state that,
“The best cranial character by which the different members of
the genus (Canzs) can be distinguished is that pointed out by
Burmeister, viz., that in the animals generally called dogs:
wolves, and jackals the postorbital process of the frontal bone
is regularly smooth and convex above with its extremity bent
downwards whereas in the foxes this process is hollowed above,
with its outer margin (particularly of the anterior border) some-
what raised.”

I have seen litters of young containing both red and cross
foxes. The natives assured me that they had found red, cross,
and silver foxes in the same family. The skins show every
possible shade of intergradation between these varieties. Among
about fifty silver foxskins which I saw there were four which
were practically black.

night amongst the buildings of the post.” Dawson, Capt.H. P., Odserva-
tions of the International Circumpolar Expedition, Rae, p. 13.

Franklin gives the measurements of one which was killed at Fort Enter-
prise, east of Rae, during the winter of 1821-22. It was q feet, 4 inches
long, including the tail, 5 feet and 4 inches; height, 2 feet, 10 inches. Var-
vative, p. 655.

1An Introduction to the Study of Mammals, p. 547.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 243

Lahonton,? writing two hundred years ago, states that the
black foxes ‘are very scarce and whosoever catches one is sure
to sell it for its weight in gold.” The Cree name for the silver
fox signifies the “ money fox.” Rival traders have so impressed
the Indians with the value of the black and silver foxskins that
exorbitant prices are demanded; after receiving 150 MB, the for-
tunate hunter asks a sack of flour (40 MB) and other articles of
trade as a ‘‘ present.” The value of a red foxskin, worth 1 MB,
is sometimes enhanced by the use of soot or gunpowder to that
of a black fox; such skins are traded at night, and the same
trader seldom allows ‘Johnny Injun” to swindle him a second
time, either with painted foxes, or mink with marten tails. The
cross foxskins are worth from 5 to 15 MB in the country.

The several varieties are all taken in steel traps (No. 2),
which are buried in the snow, with scraps of frozen fish, meat,
or grease strewn about them for bait. Those that have escaped
by leaving a foot in the trap are exceeding wary, but I cannot
agree with most writers in extolling the sagacity of this species
which often allows itself to be caught in poorly concealed
traps. They are frequently killed by means of strychnine. A
red fox which had been poisoned near Rae, in January, 1894,
was dragged some distance by another fox, then buried in the
snow and the covering well tramped.

They are certainly decreasing in number, though they still
occur in all parts of this region. They are found along the
barren Arctic coast, but they are probably not common in the
Barren Ground. The Indians do not bring any foxskins to trade
from that quarter. One silver fox was killed on Herschel
Island during the winter of ’93—4, while forty white ones were
taken there that season.

One skull, Cedar Lake, and a complete skeleton from Rae.

Canis lagopus Zzz2. WHITE Fox.
Wai-pak-e-su,C. Et-sim-ba, D. R. Ak-e-vi, L. Tal-i-yéhn, S.

Traders in the Mackenzie valley obtain several hundred skins
annually, yet they secure but a small portion of the great catch

made along the Arctic coast. The number of blue foxes re-
ceived by the Hudson’s Bay Company in Mackenzie District

2 Memoirs of North America, Vol. I, p. 235.

244 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

varied from none in 1890, to thirteen in 1887. The most of the
arctic foxskins that reach the markets of the world are obtained
from the Eskimos, who catch them in traps made of blocks of
ice which no self-respecting V.. fulvus would even approach.
A young specimen (No. 10,885), probably of this variety,
perhaps two weeks old, is of a uniform seal brown on the back
and flanks and grayish white beneath. Another individual
(No. 10,886), about half grown, is seal brown along the back,
somewhat darker on the flanks and legs where there is an ad-
mixture of white hairs; the sides area deep buff becoming
white beneath. This animal was evidently about to assume
the adult pelage as long hairs were beginning to appear. The
two specimens were playing about a burrow on the: Arctic
coast, where they were shot from the canoe as we passed.
Taxidermists should note the fact that they are hazel eyed.”
The natives receive about a dollar each for prime skins.
They are more abundant than the other species of foxes in
America but are said by the traders to be decreasing in numbers..
The white fox is widely distributed throughout the Arctic
zone being frequently met with on isolated islands or ice floes.
They occur along the northern border of the territory visited,
their southern limit of distribution being the Great Slave Lake.
Three specimens; one winter skin from Herschel Island, and
two young, Warren Point, July 5th.

Thalarctos maritimus Lzzz. Waite Bear.
Sa-te-ki, D. R. Chi-zi, L.

While at Herschel Island I was informed by the Eskimos
that the ‘tnanook” sometimes gathered in scores about the car--
cass of astranded whale. The flesh of a polar bear, killed near
the buildings, was all eaten except the liver, which even the
dogs avoided. The skin was removed entire, that is, in such

1Compare Parry, Second Voyage,p.151. “These animals were found to.
be so stupid that they allowed themselves to be caught a second time in

the same trap after they had escaped from the ship.” Fifteen were caught.
in four hours in a cask with a sliding door.

2 Eyes a clear light hazel.” Lyon, Capt. G. F., Yournal, p. 74.

3 Compare J.C. Ross: “The skin peeled from the body of men eating:
those killed at Fury Beach, also on Parry’s Expedition the men’s skin
peeled on feet, legs, and arms after living several days wholly on two-
bears.” “The Eskimos give the liver to the dogs.” Appendix to Warra--
tive of Second Voyage, p. 7.

NATURAL HISTORY.—MAMMALS 245

a manner that it could be used as a natural history specimen,
as are many of the skins now taken by the Eskimos. These
skins are taken to San Francisco in salt, or as dried skins which
have been stretched and scraped to remove the thick lining of
fat. The natives receive from 5 to 15 dollars in trade for prime
skins.

The polar bear occurs along the northern border only of this
region. A few years ago one penetrated as far inland as Mc-
Pherson—over a hundred miles—robbing meat caches and
playing havoc among the dogs.

A skin and two skulls were secured at Herschel Island, and
a large skin at Cape Tchaplin, Siberia.

Ursus americanus Pa//._ - Brack Bear.
Sas, D. R. Soh, L. Sa-tén-di-cli, S.

I met several hunters who had seen both black and brown cubs
in the same litter, yet they recognize the fact that the brown
form of this species is very different from that of U. horribilis.
A great many bear stories were told, but in one instance only had
a wounded animal of this species turned upon its pursuer. One
clerk declared that he had “killed over two hundred black
bears without one of them ever showing fight.” In descending
the Mackenzie we approached within two hundred yards of
one before he became alarmed and made off. At nearly every
trip of the “ Wrigley” a bear is killed along shore from her
deck, these wary animals not yet having learned the danger-
ous character of the huge shape which appears so seldom and
approaches so swiftly.

Their flesh is highly prized as food and the grease serves a
variety of uses.

In the northwest they are caught in log deadfalls with a
heavy, crushing weight. The No. 5 steel trap is also used. In
the Slave valley they are sometimes caught in snares. The line
is passed under a root so that when the springe is released the
bear is dragged down and strangled. They are being exter-
minated along the Saskatchewan and Peace Rivers, but remain
unchanged beyond the Peace.

About fifty skins are traded annually at Resolution. The
price paid the Indians varies from 20 dollars in cash in the
Northwest to 20 or 30 MB in the North.

246 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Mr. John Firth, for several years clerk in charge at La Pierre’s
House, states that there were no black bears in that vicinity.
During the ten months spent at Rae only three were killed
within a radius of twenty miles of the fort. They are frequently
seen in descending the Athabasca River and along the Macken-
zie below Wrigley. They do not occur in the Barren Ground.

Claw of Polar Bear.
Thalarctos maritimus.

Claw of Grizzly Bear.
Orsus horribilis.

Ursus horribilis Ova. GRIZzLy Bear.

The Loucheux look upon the grizzly with dread and often
fire repeatedly at the lifeless carcass, as experience has shown
them that the grizzly sometimes recovers from the shock and
attacks the unwary hunter. After killing one of this species,
while traversing the delta of the Mackenzie, I noticed that our
Loucheux canoemen seemed to have a much greater respect
for me.!. This specimen weighed about seven hundred pounds
and its specific gravity was such that it required considerable
effort to raise the carcass to the surface after dragging it across
the river.

Handsome silver-tipped robes are brought to the trader at
McPherson. Another variety, according to Mr. Joseph Hodg-
son, “varies in color from reddish brown to yellowish white;
this is not the Barren Ground bear (U. richardsoni Reid), the
skins of which are brought to us by the natives living east of
the Mackenzie Delta.”

I saw at least a hundred skins from the coast between Bath-
urst Inlet and Cape Tchaplin, Siberia, which exhibited every

1 See p. 140, ante.

NATURAL HISTORY.—_MAMMALS 247

variety of coloration by the admixture of black, white, and
brown. The grizzly bear is not decreasing in numbers in the
northern ranges of the Rocky Mountains. The true grizzly is
in this region found only along its western border.

I did not hear of their being caught in traps. The natives
of the interior kill them with muzzle-loading smooth-bores.
The flesh is not eaten. The skin is sold for about the same
price as is that of the black bear.

One specimen, obtained in the Mackenzie Delta.

Lepus timidus Zznn. Arctic Hare.
Ka-cho, D. R.

On the 26th of March, 1894, an arctic hare was killed near
our camps, situated a hundred and fifty miles northeast of Rae,
and brought to me as a specimen rare for that region. It was
conspicuously larger and heavier than the northern hare, Z. am-
ericanus, with softer, thicker pelage. The fur of this specimen
(No. 11,034), which was taken in March, is pure white through-
out, except the tips of the ears which are deep black in color for
the distance of % inch. There isa much greater proportion
of under fur to outer hair than in ZL. americanus, and it is white
to the base.! The ears equal the head in length—4¥ inches.
The hind feet are 6% inches in length and densely furred over
the entire surface to the depth of 1 inch. The nails of the
middle toes are 34 of an inch, in length, all are horn-colored
along the convex median line, reddish brown on the basal half
and white on remainder of sides. They are grooved beneath.

The Indians assured me that the arctic hare was common in
the Barren Ground, yet neither I nor any other member of our
party discovered a trace of them during twenty-two days which
we spent in that region. Richardson gave as their habitat the
clumps of spruce-fir along the border of the Barren Ground.
They occur along the upper Yukon, yet, strange to say, are quite
unknown about the mouth of the Mackenzie, and along the
timber line west of it. They were rarely seen south of the
Churchill a hundred years ago, but were very common north
of that river.2 Their footprints on the snow of the frozen sea

1 Fur resembles swan’s down rather than hair.” Lyon, Yournai, p. 69.
2 Hearne, Yourney, p. 382.

248 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

have been seen twenty miles north of Grinnell Land in latitude
83° 10’ N.}
One specimen; Rae, March 2oth, 1894.

Lepus americanus -rx. VARYING Hare.
Wa-pus, C. Ka, D. R. Ke, L. Ka, S.

The northern hare makes a complete change of pelage in
winter throughout this region. Specimens from the Saskatche-
wan do not differ from others taken at Rae. As it is a well
known species, no detailed description need be given. The
rabbit, as it is called, has been of inestimable value to the in-
habitants of the north, both white and red. When the fishery
fails, or the “deer” migrate by a different route, the only
resource is the rabbit snare to save them from starvation. The
northern hare is subject to periodic epidemics which kill im-
mense numbers of them. They seemed equally common during
the winters of 1892-3 and 1893-4; the natives at different posts
gave different dates as the year of greatest abundance, so that
I am inclined to think that they do not increase and decrease
simultaneously over the whole region, but that it is by periods
of seven years each all seemed agreed.?

I was in the bush almost every day, yet in summer I saw
very few hares. At the time of their autumnal change of color,
they are very conspicuous for a few days before the snow ap-
pears, though the transformation is very quickly accomplished.®

They are caught in snares made from “jackfish twine.” The
noose is set across their run ways, the upper end of the twine
being attached to a springe or a pole used as a weight which is
balanced over a convenient limb for a fulcrum and held down
by passing the twine under a prostrate young pine which also
serves to keep the animal in the path. As soon as the noose
pulls enough to turn down the stick which is tied in the twine
it is tripped and the hare is caught either by the neck or hind
foot, and lifted four or five feet in the air.

The skin of the northern hare, while it has no commercial

1 Fielden, Zoologist, Vol. I, 3rd Series, p. 353.

* They are said, by Richardson, to die after a wet summer. Parry's Second
Voyage, p. 326.

3 See J. A. Allen, On the Seasonal Change of Color in the Varying Hare.
Bull. Am. Museum Nat. Hist. Vol. VI, p. 107-28.

NATURAL HISTORY.—_MAMMALS 249

value, is of great service to the natives. They cut the skins
into strips and weave them into robes which are said to be the
warmest made. The Slaveys, Trout Lake, and other Indians,
south and west of the reindeer country, weave capotes of the
skins. I noticed that nearly every man, woman, and child at
Hay River had such agarment. The traders buy hares for the
flesh at six cents each.

They occur throughout the wooded portion of this region
and among the willow-fringed islands in the delta of the Mac-
kenzie beyond the limit of forest growth.

Twelve specimens were secured; eight at Grand Rapids, two
at Chippewyan in summer pelage, and two at Rae.

Sciurus hudsonius Ped/as. RED SQUIRREL.
An-ik-wai-chis,C. Tlo,D.R. Clo,S. = Tlik, L.

Common throughout the wooded country, seen at all seasons.
Their loud scolding chatter often proved annoying when I was
in pursuit of wary birds.

Twelve specimens were secured at Grand Rapids.

Sciuropterus volucella sabrinus (Shaw). FiyinG SQUIRREL.
Tswag u-nik-wai-chas. C.

A single specimen was obtained at Grand Rapids, where they
are very rare.

Tamias asiaticus (Gmelin) Allen. CHIPMUNK.
Chas-se-céw-e-pis-kus, C.
Two specimens were secured at Grand Rapids, where they
are not uncommon.

Spermophilus empetra ? GROUND SQUIRREL.

Ground squirrels or “siffleux” as they are known to the
Company’s people, are a characteristic feature of the barren
portions of Arctic America. In summer the traveler is greeted
from every dry knoll and hilltop by their pert whistle. The
skins are used for clothing by the natives.

Three specimens were secured at Herschel Island.

250 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Peromyscus leucopus articus ——? WHITE-FOOTED MOoUusE.

A single specimen from Rae.

Another woolly mouse from the same locality belongs to the
genus Microtus. The collection also contains a common house
mouse (Mus musculus) from Grand Rapids, where they were
abundant notwithstanding the isolated situation of the post and
the apparently extremely unfavorable habitat.

Fiber zibethicus (Zznn.). Muskrat.
Wih-chisk,C. Dzo",D.R. Dzu",L. = Te-ka-i, S.

The muskrat does not differ materially in color as we advance
northward, though there are localities where melanistic forms
are said to occur in considerable numbers, as along the Sas-
katchewan River below Prince Albert. Nearly every post re-
ceives an occasional albino, for which a “present” is always
expected.

The muskrat finds in the North an environment perfectly
adapted to its aquatic habits, during a portion of the year at
least. They do not build winter houses as extensively as those
farther south, but usually burrow in the banks of streams and
ponds; they prefer the streams to the swamps, and are espe-
cially abundant in the deltas of the large rivers, where they
may be seen by day, but at night they fairly swarm in the
smaller channels. In traveling there by canoe one notices the
blackish muzzles moving about, followed by long, ever-widen-
ing ripples; every few moments there is a startling plunge at
the bow of the canoe. The Indians try to entice the rats to-
ward them by a peculiar teasing, “kissing” sound.

They have little commercial value, yet, owing to their num-
bers they are the main dependence of the Crees on some of the
Saskatchewan reserves. Over twenty thousand skins are some-
times received during one winter at asingle station. In the
month of February, 1893, the Cedar Lake Indians were killing
them at the rate of six hundred a day. A whole family would
engage in the slaughter, stationing the wife and children, armed
with spears, at the air-holes; the hunter would frighten the rats
out of the house to be killed as soon as they rose to breathe.
Later in the spring, hundreds were shot as they swam about in

NATURAL HISTORY.—_MAMMALS 251

the water on the overflowed ice. A métis—old Antoine Char-
tier—at Grand Rapids told me that he had secured sixty ina
day in this way and that others had killed over a hundred.
Those which are trapped of course furnish better skins than
those which are mutilated by spears or shot.

They are worth from two to four cents apiece in the country.
In the far North the traders discourage their capture as the
cost of transportation exceeds the profits when the market
price is low.

Muskrats are a common article of food among the natives,
and when fat are not to be despised.

They are found as far north as the mouth of the Mackenzie.
They have been seen, in the mountains west of McPherson,
3,000 feet above the sea level.

Four specimens; one from Grand Rapids, two from Chip-
pewyan, and an albino from Simpson.

Castor canadensis Kui. BEAVER.
U-misk, C. Tsa, D. R. Tse, L. Tsa, S.

During the six months which I spent at Grand Rapids, only
one beaverskin was brought to the post, and that came trom a
distance. No trace of them is to be found within several miles
of the fort. Farther up the river a small annual catch is made
but the industrious and populous communities, which in the
past so materially modified the appearance of the country, are
gone. The broken, grass-grown earthworks of the beaver
meadows are sad reminders of our accountability for the de-
struction of these intelligent animals.

Whole families of albino beavers have been seen in the Peace
River Region (Mackinlay).

Mr. James Hislop trapped a beaver near Athabasca Landing
so large that it attracted his attention though he yearly handled
hundreds of skins. Unfortunately he took but one measure-
ment, noting that the tail was 7 inches in width; beavers weigh-
ing 40 to 50 pounds measure 4 or § inches across the the tail.
The heaviest recorded weight is 60 pounds.*

Beaver tails are sometimes used by the white trappers as bait
for their fox traps.

* Morgan, L. H., The American Beaver and his Works, p. 23.

252 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

Fifteen years ago the York boats, which carried the Com-
pany’s freight on Peace River, depended upon the beavers killed
en route for provision, now they are so rare that only occasional
beavertails reach the posts as presents from the Indians. The
beaverskin was originally the standard in bartering with the
Indians.

Five to eight MB are paid for a beaverskin at the present time:

The beaver occurs throughout the wooded portions of this
region, excepting those localities where it has been recently
exterminated. They are not known to.occur in the Barren
Ground.

1 See p. 59, ante.

BIRDS

WING to the difficulties of northern transportation, goose,
swan, and other bulky skins were not saved. All the
specimens here enumerated were made up by the writer, except
eight skins which are the gift of Mrs. W. C. King, of Cedar
Lake, and one specimen from Rae. With the exception of the
Crow Nest Pass collection, all were dried before being packed,
and reached Iowa City in excellent condition. A number of
crania, sterna, and internal organs were preserved.

The Grand Rapids specimens were obtained between August
30th, 1892, and February 2oth, 1893. Together with those col-
lected in 1891! the list of birds to be found at that post is be-
lieved to be fairly complete. Cedar Lake is certainly a much
better station for an ornithologist.

Macleod is on the border of the Rocky Mountain region and,
while it is not a desirable location, would be a good starting
point from which to enter the Crow Nest Pass. The prairie
region, which contains many lakes, between Winnipeg and
Macleod is the great breeding ground of the smaller water
birds as well as of Canada geese and many of the ducks. North
of this, toward the North Saskatchewan, a scattered growth of
poplars, alders, and other small deciduous trees, offers a bar-
rier to the further northward movement of many of the land
birds. Beyond the Saskatchewan the country east of the Mac-
kenzie system is nearly uniform in its nature, consisting of low
Archzan hills scantily covered with coniferous forests, inter-
spersed with muskegs and lakes.

The Chippewyan collection is a fairly representative one for
the month, May 15-June 15. I stationed myself on the most
conspicuous island in the midst of the large delta-plain at the
western end of Lake Athabasca, where I could devote my

1 See report by Professor C. C. Nutting, in Vol. II, No. 3, of the Wad.
Hist. Bull. of the State Univ. of lowa.

253

254 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

attention to both land and water birds. Such small birds as
crossed the lake might be expected to halt at that point which
was the first high ground on the north shore. Any species
recorded from that place might reasonably be expected to be
found as far northward as the Great Slave Lake.

Near Smith a well known breeding place of the white peli-
can is to be found in a picturesque spot among the rapids of
the Slave River.

The Great Slave Lake presents the most formidable barrier
to the passage of the smaller land birds that is to be found in
the whole county. North of the lake the observer is impressed
with the change in plant and animal life. It was my privilege
to travel along a considerable portion of the north and south
shores both in summer and in winter. There are very few
species of birds to be found north of the lake in winter; even
in summer, birds are not abundant around the lake.

The delta of the Mackenzie is by far the best locality in this
entire territory for the collecting naturalist. Game birds are
abundant so that the food problem, which becomes an impor-
tant one in that inaccessible region, is easily solved. Many
western species occur there. I very much regretted the neces-
sity which compelled me to pass specimens which were new to
me, and I was disappointed in the hope of finding some of them
at Herschel Island. Only water birds or a few species pecu-
liar to barrens are to be found at that station. In July and
August the cacawees may be seen in enormous flocks along
that coast; the brown crane breeds near the mouth of the Mac-
kenzie; loons are common all along the coast. Gulls and
jaegars are not abundant.

2. Colymbus holboellii (Recn.). HoLBeELL’s GREBE.
One specimen; Rae, August 22. Not uncommon.
4. Colymbus nigricollis californicus (A/eervm.).

AMERICAN EARED GREBE.
One specimen; Rae, August 22.
7. Urinator imber (Guzz.). Loon.

One specimen, 4; Prospect Lake, Rae, July 29. Common
about the lakes which contain fish throughout this entire region.

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 255

The natives imitate its strident note, but are more successful
in bringing it within gunshot by flashing some white object in
the sunlight. I have seen the Indians cook this bird, but one
mouthful was too much for them.

11. Urinator lumme (Gunz.). RED-THROATED Loon.

One specimen; King Point, July 5. Abundant along that
portion of the Arctic coast which I passed in my canoe—be-
tween the Mackenzie and Herschel Island. The red-throated
loon is not as wary as the preceding; its flesh is tolerably pal-
atable.

37. Stercorarius parasiticus (Zznn.). PARASITIC JAEGER.

One specimen; an egg from the coast, near the mouth of the
Mackenzie, June 27. The nest was simply a level bit of dry
moss on the tundra, a few yards from the water’s edge, and
contained but one egg. The parent bird, which tried to drive
me away from the locality, was also collected, but the skin
was unfortunately lost in traveling to Herschel Island.

38. Stercorarius longicaudus e720. LONG-TAILED JAEGER.

This species is said to pass Rae in considerable numbers dur-
ing the spring migratory season.

A specimen, which had been killed during the spring of 1893,
was obtained from a young Indian at the station. He had
mounted it fairly well upon a board and had inserted shoe but-
tons for eyes.

42. Larus glaucus Brinn. GLaucus GULL.
One specimen, 9; Herschel Island, August 4.

51a. Larus argentatus smithsonianus Cowes.
AMERICAN HERRING GULL.
Two specimens; Rae, July 21; one 4, one ?.

54. Larus delawarensis Ord. RING-BILLED GULL.
Ki-ack, C.

Eight specimens; Grand Rapids, five juv; Chippewyan, two

4, one 9; Rae, one juv. Commonest of the gulls, not abundant

256 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

at Chippewyan, said to breed ona small island twenty miles
east of the post. J found these gulls abundant and very fat at
Big Slavey Point, May 12, the snow still deep.

7o. Sterna hirundo Zz. Common TERN.

Two specimens, 6; Grand Rapids, September 12. Abundant
about Lake Winnipeg and Cedar Lake, less common northward.

86c. Fulmar glacialis rodgersii (Cass.). RopcGErs’s FuLmar.

One specimen; at sea, latitude 71°50’N., northwest of Herald
Island, September 26.

96. Puffinis tenuirostris (Zemm.).
SLENDER-BILLED SHEARWATER.
One specimen, which alighted upon the deck of our vessel,
while crossing Behring Sea. This bird seemed to be uninjured,
yet could or would not rise to escape before I caught it with
my hands.

125. Pelecanus erythrorhynchos Gye.
AMERICAN WHITE PELICAN.
Ten specimens; Mountain Rapids, Slave River, July 3; three
young birds at different stages of development were selected
from the many score that were on an island at the head of the
rapids. Seven eggs have survived the vicissitudes of northern
travel. White pelicans are common at Grand Rapids, and at a
few other points about Lake Winnipeg.!. The Mountain Por-
tage is the most northerly breeding place of which I have any
knowledge. They are rarely seen as far north as the Great
Slave Lake.

129. Merganser americanus (Cass.). AMERICAN MERGANSER.

Four specimens, one 9, three juv.; Rae, August 22. Not un-
common, breeding.

132. Anas boschas Lz. Marzrarp. “Stock Duck.”
Aji-in-i-sip, C.

Three specimens; one from Cedar Lake, 4, two taken at Chip-

pewyan, May 20,é. Abundant during the migratory season at

1 See p. 1, ante.

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 257

such feeding grounds as the deltas of the Saskatchewan (Cedar
Lake), Athabasca, Slave, and Mackenzie Rivers. Rare along
the Northern Arm of the Great Slave Lake. This species is
systematically hunted in the fall and “hung” for winter use at
many of the Company’s posts.

136. Anas penelope Lzzz. WIDGEON.
Two specimens; one from Grand Rapids, September 1; one 9,

Rae, August 22.

137. Anas americana Gel. BALDPATE.

Two specimens; Cedar Lake; Chippewyan, 6, May 23. Only
one seen at the latter station during the month spent there.

139. Anas carolinensis Gyel. GREEN-WINGED TEAL.
Two specimens; 6 and 9, Chippewyan, May 20-30.

142. Spatula clypeata (Zznm.). SHOVELLER.

One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, June 7. Not uncommon,
breeding.

143. Dafila acuta (Len.). PINTAIL.

Two specimens; Chippewyan, 6, May 18—June 3. Perhaps
second to the mallard in value for food; not so wary. Com-
mon at Chippewyan, breeding.

149. Aythya affinis (Zyz.). Lesser Scaup Duck.

Six specimens; two from Chippewyan, June 5; five, one 9,
three juv., Rae, August 1. Common among the islands of the
north shore of the Great Slave Lake, where they are ‘“‘little
black ducks,” breeding. Rare at Chippewyan.

150. Athya collaris (Donov.). RING-NECKED Duck.

One specimen; Chippewyan, May 22. No others seen there.

15s. Histrionicus histrionicus (Zzxz.) Harveguin Ducx.
One specimen, 9; Rae, July 27.
17

258 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

166. Odemia perspicillata (Zznz.). SurF SCOTER.
One specimen, 2; Rae, July 27.

167. Erismatura rubida (W2ds.). Ruppy Duck.
Two specimens; Cedar Lake.

168. Nomonyx domincus (Zznz.). Maskep Duck.
One specimen; Cedar Lake.

172. Branta canadensis (Zznz.). CanaDA GOOSE.

172A. Branta canadensis hutchinsii (Sw. & Rich.).
Ka, D. R. Hutcuins’s Goose.
The ‘gray goose” is common throughout this region, at least
during the migratory season, and furnishes food in the spring
for many natives. The arrival of the first goose in the spring
is a matter of record at every post. The Indian bringing the
first specimen of the season to the station is rewarded with a
handsome “present,” the engaged servant who first kills a goose
also receives a gratuity amounting to several skins in value.
The average date of arrival of the geese at Simpson for a period
of thirteen years is April 28th. The record is as follows.

w881,. . . . . . . April 30 1888,. .... . . May3
1882, . .. .. . . April 29 1889,. . .. . . . April 23
1883,. . . . . . . April 26 1890,. .. . . +. . April 30
1884,. . . . . . . April 27 TSOQl,. ge. kN ae

1885,. . . . +. . April 25 1892,. .. .. . . April 24
1886,. .... . . May8 1893, - « . . . »« May8
1887, .. . . . . . April 26 1894,. . .. . . . May4

Geese are purchased at the rate of two for 1 MB. Large num-
bers are salted for use at the stations. The snow geese are
killed by thousands at Chippewyan. A much smaller number
than formerly is obtained at Big Island, a famous “ goose
ground,” and they are surely passing away.

223. Phalaropus lobatus (Zzzz.). NORTHERN PHALAROPE.

One specimen, ¢; Herschel Island, July 14. Common on the
tundra.

233. Micropalma himantopus (Bonap.). STILT SANDPIPER.

Two specimens, 6; Chippewyan, June 6-12. Passing north-

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 259

ward in considerable numbers during the month of June. Called
by a Cree visitor—miic-e-ow se-ge-més—a (big mosquito).

235. Tringa maritima Brinn. PURPLE SANDPIPER.

Ten specimens; Chippewyan, two 4, two 9, two ?; May 30-
June 8; Herschel Island, three 4, one 9; July 13~August 14.
Abundant at both stations.

241. Tringa bairdii (Cowes). BaIRD’s SANDPIPER.

Three specimens, one 4, two 9; Chippewyan, May 25-June 1.
Common.

246. Ereunetes pusillus (Zznz.). SEMIPALMATED SANDPIPER.

Eleven specimens; Chippewyan, four 4, two 9, two ?; June
2-12; Herschel Island, one 3, two 9; June 14—August 2.

248. Calidris arenaria (Zzzz.). SANDERLING.

One specimen, 9; Chippewyan, June 7.

262. Tryngites subruficollis (Vze/?.).
BUFF-BREASTED SANDPIPER.

One specimen, Herschel Island, August 13.

263. Actitis macularia (Zzzz.). SPOTTED SANDPIPER.

Eight specimens; Chippewyan, three ?; May 23-June 9. Four
eggs and a nest were collected, the nest was a depression in
the sand, scantily lined with grass. This is the commonest
shore bird of the north, it is to be found along along all shelv-
ing beaches.

270. Charadrius squatarola (Zzmn.). BLACK-BELLIED PLOVER.
One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, June 8. Not common.

272. Charadrius dominicus Mid, AmERiIcAN GOLDEN PLOVER.

Two specimens; Chippewyan, one é; June 1; Herschel Island,
August 13. A few flocks halt at Athabasca to feed in the
deltas. Not uncommon at Herschel Island where they first
arrived from the northward on the 13th of August.

260 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

274. Aegialitis semipalmata Bonap. SEMIPALMATED PLOVER.

Three specimens, one 8, one 2, one ?; Chippewyan, June 2-
12. Not common.

298. Dendragapus canadensis (LZznz.). CaNnaDA GROUSE.
Més-tik-o-pén-e-o, C.
Ten specimens; Grand Rapids, two 4, seven juv.; September

5-December 3; Chippewyan, one ?; May 29. Common at
Grand Rapids.

300a. Bonasa umbellus togata (Zznz.).
Pa-pas-ku, C. CanapiaAN RUFFED GROUSE.
Eight specimens; Grand Rapids, five 6, one 9, two —; Sep-
tember 10-December 29; Chippewyan, May 18. During our
boat voyage down the Athabasca, we heard the drumming of
these birds at all hours of the night.

3008. Bonasa umbellus umbelloides (Dougl.) Gray.
RUFFED GROUSE.

One specimen, 6; Crow Nest Pass, April 12.

301. Lagopus lagopus (Zzvz.). WILLow PTARMIGAN.
Wa-pén-e-o, C.

Twenty-two specimens; fifteen from Grand Rapids, two 4,
nine 9, four —; November 12-February 8; seven from Rae,
four 6, three 9; October 2-May 7. The ptarmigan made their
appearance at Grand Rapids on the 12th of November in 1892.
The Indians brought the first specimen to me, but it was so
torn by No. I shot and the beautiful plumage so covered with
blood that it was almost impossible to make a good skin of it.

The ptarmigan were not abundant that season. I never
secured more than two or three during a day’s hunt that could
be saved as specimens so easily did their immaculate plumage
become stained when even the smallest shot was used. They
frequented the sandy dikes of the lake shore where they fed
upon the willow buds. They were not easily distinguishable
at a little distance from the balls of snow which were common
in the willow tops. In flight they keep so near the surface of
the snow that wing shots are rather difficult unless they pass
before a dark background of pines.

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 261

The specimens from Rae form a series showing the complete
transition from the summer-brown to the winter-white plumage.
A male bird which was taken in a snare May 7th, has a chest-
nut brown head and body as yet white.!

302. Lagopus rupestris ( Ge/.). Rock PTARMIGAN.

An Indian in our party killed a rock ptarmigan in the Bar-
ren Ground over one hundred miles from the edge of the
woods, during the musk-ox trip in April. There was no thaw
in that region until over a month later.

308. Pediocaetes phasianellus (Zzmn.). SHARP-TAILED GROUSE.
Aq-sco-pén-e-o, C.

Fourteen specimens; eleven from Grand Rapids, one 4, three
2, seven juv.; August 30-November 21; Rae, two 4, one 2; Oc-
tober 4-7. Abundant at the first station, rather common at
Rae during the autumnal migration. They are highly esteemed
for their flesh by the natives, and are certainly superior to
either the ptarmigan or the white-fleshed ruffed grouse.

331. Circus hudsonius (Zzzz.). MarsH Hawk.
Pi-pun-e-su, C.
Three specimens; Swampy Island, Lake Winnipeg, 2, August
28; Chippewyan, 9, June 1; Rae, juv., August 22.

332. Accipiter velox (Wis.). SHARP-SHINNED Hawk.

Four specimens; three from Grand Rapids, 9, September 6-
19; Rae, 4, August 17.

334. Accipiter atricapillus (W7/s.). AMERICAN GOSHAWK.
Con-o-chik-in-o-chi-we-su, C.
Nine specimens: Grand Rapids, two juv., September 15;
seven from Rae, juv., 9, ?, July 26-October 5. The commonest
representative of this order about Rae.”

337. Buteo borealis (Gre/.). RED-TAILED Hawk.
One specimen, 6; Grand Rapids, September 19.

1 See page 86, «ante.
2 See page 86, ante.

18

262 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

348. Archibuteo lagopus sancti-johannis (Gyze/.).
AMERICAN ROUGH-LEGGED Hawk.

One specimen, 6; Herschel Island, August 4.

352. Haliaeétus leucocephalus (Zznz.). BaLp EAGLE.
Mi-gi-su, C.

One specimen, juv.; Grand Rapids, October14. Not uncom-
mon throughout the North. I saw a bald eagle on November
3d, at Rae, which seemed to be following the caribou in their
migration.

356. Falco peregrinus anatum (Zonap.). Duck Hawk.
One specimen, ?; Herschel Island, August 16.

357. Falco columbarius Zznz. PicEon Hawk.
Two specimens, 4; Rae, May 5.

360. Falco sparverius Ln. AMERICAN Sparrow Hawk.
Pé-pi-ge-sis, C.
One specimen, juv.; Grand Rapids, September 5. Common.

364. Pandion haliaeetus carolinensis (Gme/.). AMERICAN OSPREY

One specimen, 6; Rae, July 26. Not uncommon about the
Great Slave Lake.

366. Asio wilsonianus (Zess.). AMERICAN LONG-EARED OWL.
One specimen, 9; Crow Nest Pass, April 15.

370. Scotiaptex cinereum (Gye/.). GREAT GRAY OWL.
One specimen, 9; Rae, May 4.

375. Bubo virginianus (Gye/.). GreaT HorneD OWL.
. Co-co-tco, C.
Two specimens; Grand Rapids, ?, February 8; and a half-
grown specimen from Salt River, June 28.

377a. Surnia ulula caparoch (J@i//.). AmERican Hawk Ow .
Tci-pom-o-tciz, C.
Five specimens; four in the Grand Rapids collection, one 4,
one 9, two ?; December 6-January 1. One from Rae, 4; Oc-
tober 2.

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 263

390. Ceryle alcyon (Linn.). BELTED KINGFISHER.
Kis-ki-min-e-suq, C.
Three specimens; Grand Rapids, one 9, two ?; September
13-I9. Everywhere common.

393. Dryobates villosus (Zinz.). Hairy WoopDPECKER.

Four specimens, one 4, three 9; Grand Rapids, November
5-February 16. Common.

3934. Dryobates villosus leucomelas (Bodd.).
NorTHERN Hairy WoopPEcKER.

Two specimens, 4; Grand Rapids, November 16,

394. Dryobates pubescens (Linz.). Downy WoopPEcKER.
Pa-pa-tcez, C.
Seven specimens, three 2, three 2, one ?; Grand Rapids, Sep-
tember 7-November 29. Common.

400. Picoides arcticus (Szwazns.).
Arctic THREE-TOED WOODPECKER.
One specimen, ¢, Grand Rapids, November 1; one 4, Chip-
pewyan, June 2.

4o1a. Picoides americanus alascensis (/Ve/s.).
ALASKAN THREE-TOED WOODPECKER.

Two specimens, 6; Grand Rapids, September 1o-October 31.
Not common.

402. Sphyraphicus varius (Zzuz.).
YELLOW-BELLIED SAPSUCKER.
One specimen, received from Cedar Lake. I should suppose
them to be rare in that region, as I saw none myself, though I
took some pains to collect a representative series of the Picide.

405. Ceophloerus pileatus (Zznz.). PILEATED WOODPECKER.

One specimen, ¢; Grand Rapids, Oct. 26. The first killed
about that post for several years. Later in the season, I heard
the loud note of another, but failed to approach it successfully.
I killed three while in the Puget Sound country and found
them exceedingly wary.

264 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

412. Colaptes auratus (Zzzz.). FLICKER,
U-ni-kwa-ne-o, C.
Four specimens; three from Grand Rapids, two 4, one 9,
Sept. 21-Dec. 30; one g, from Chippewyan, May 22. Every-
where common.

413. Colaptes cafer (Grze/.). RED-SHAFTED FLICKER.
One specimen, 6; Crow Nest Pass, April 11. One seen at

Chippewyan, May 21.

420. Chordeiles virginianus (Ge/.). NIGHT-HAWK.

One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, June 12. Abundant at Grand
Rapids, not uncommon at Chippewyan.

456. Sayornis phoebe (Zazz.). PHBE.

One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, May 20. I found this species
abundant at the time of my arrival, May 18.

467. Empidonax minimus Sard. Least FLycaTCHER.

Two specimens, 6; Chippewyan, May 26-30. Common; a
shy but noisy little wretch, ever ready to raise an alarming
outcry when its own skin was quite safe.

469. Empidonax wrightii Bard. WRIGHT'S FLYCATCHER.

One specimen, 4; Crow Nest Pass, April 11.

474A. Otocoris alpestris leucoloema (Cowes).
Pattip HorNnepD Lark.

Six specimens; one 4, taken at Grand Rapids, September 13;
five at Chippewyan, four 6, one 9, May 20-25. Not uncommon
at both stations.

477. Cyanocitta cristata (Zznz.). BLUE Jay

Two specimens, 4; Grand Rapids, Nov. 2. Very rare at that
station.

484. Perisoreus canadensis (Zzvz.). CANADA JAY.
Kwi-kwé-su, C.

Thirty specimens; Grand Rapids, eleven 4, ten ?, six ?, Sept.

5-Feb. 17; Chippewyan, two juv., May 19; Rae, one 4, Oct. 13-

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 265

Ig. Everywhere common, a well-known camp prowler. Whis-
key jacks are often caught by the natives in snares and tortured
in various ways on account of their supposed evil influence on
sailing winds.!

486a. Corvus corax principalis Rzdgw. NORTHERN RAVEN.
Ka-ka-gé-o, C.

Six specimens; Grand Rapids, two, Sept. 21-Nov. 26; Fort
Smith, one 4, June 28; Rae, one 4, one 9, one juv.?, August 3-18.
Not uncommon throughout this region; a winter resident at the
fishery refuse heaps at Grand Rapids, but I have not seen it in
summer at that station; a rare winter resident at Rae. We
saw several ravens perched on the ‘mud cliffs” between the
mouth of the Mackenzie and Herschel Island. The raven is
called “crow” in the North.

488. Corvus americanus Amd. AMERICAN Crow.
A-ha-cu, C.

One specimen, 4; Grand Rapids, Sept. 13. Common. Rich-
ardson places the northern limit of range of the ‘ barking
crow” at ‘The Rapids” or Providence.? Mr. Hodgson, of the
Hudson’s Bay Company, who traveled up and down the Mac-
kenzie each summer for many years, assured me that he had
never seen the crow below the ‘“ Head of the Line.” Mr. Mc-
Connell states? that the barking crow made its appearance at
Simpson on the 2oth of May, in 1888.

491. Nucifraga columbiana (W7%s.). CLARKE’s NUTCRACKER.
Three specimens, 4; Crow Nest Pass, March 28-April 12.

Common.

495. Molothrus ater ( odd.) . CowBIRD.
Five specimens, é, one @, three juv.; Grand Rapids, Sept. 13-

Oct. 27. Abundant.

497. Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus (Bovap.).

One seen at Chippewyan.

1 See p. 36, ante.
2Arctic Searching Expedition, p. 102.
3 Ann. Rep. Geo. Sur. of Canada, Vol. [V, p. 86D.

19

266 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

509. Scoleocophagus carolinus (J7i/2.). Rusty BLAcKBIRD.
Two specimens, 2; Chippewyan. May 19-23. Abundant. ,

S10. Scoleocophagus cyanocephalus (Wag/.).
Chu-tcttk-e-nu, C. BREWER’S BLACKBIRD.
Two specimens; one from Grand Rapids, Sept. 7; one from

Chippewyan, 4, May 23. Abundant at the latter station. Grand
Rapids, sex ?, Sept. 6.

515. Pinicola enucleator (Zzzz.). PINE GROSBEAK.
Four specimens, two 4, two; Grand Rapids, Oct. 14-Nov. 17.

517. Carpodacus purpureus (Gye/.). PurPLeE FINCH.

Two specimens, 6; Chippewyan, é, June 5. Only two were
seen at that station.

522. Loxia leucoptera Grel. WHITE-WINGED CROSSBILL.

One specimen, 2; Grand Rapids, Nov. 3. A rare visitor.

524. Leucosticte tephrocotis Swazns.
GRAY-CROWNED LEUCOSTICTE.
Seven specimens, three 2, four 9; Crow Nest Pass, April 14.
Abundant.

528. Acanthis linaria (Zznz.). REDPOLL.

Fifty-two specimens; Grand Rapids, nine ¢, seventeen 9,
five ?, Oct. 27-Dec. 29; Crow Nest Pass, one 4, three ?, April
15; Rae, one 6, four 9, seven ?, Oct. 7-12; Herschel Island,
one 9, together with a nest and three eggs, July 16. Very
abundant at every post at which I collected.

534. Plectrophenax nivalis (Zzz.). SNOWFLAKE.

Forty-three specimens; Grand Rapids, three 4, two ?, Nov.
1-Dec. 15; Rae, eleven 4, twenty 9, two ?, Oct. 5-13; Herschel
Island, five 2, July 16-18. Abundant in the winter at the first
station; killed by the natives about the buildings at Rae for
food during the fall migration. Common at Herschel Island
throughout the summer. I saw a large number in the Winni-
peg markets in March.

NATURAL HISTORY.--BIRDS 267

* 536. Calcarius lapponicus (Zznm.). LapLtanp Loncspur.

Thirty-six specimens; Chippewyan, one ?, May 24; Herschel
Island, twelve 4, fifteen 9, nine ?, July 13-Aug. 13. Very abun-
dant at Herschel Island. Only one seen at Chippewyan.

5428. Ammodramus sandwichensis alaudinus (Boncp.).
WESTERN SAVANNA SPARROW.

Five specimens; three 4, one 9, one ?, Herschel Island, July
16-August 18. .
554A. Zonotrichia intermedia Ridgw. INTERMEDIATE SPARROW.
One specimen, 8; Rae, July 21.

558. Zonotrichia albicollis ( Gme/.). WHITE-THROATED SPARROW.
One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, May 22. Common at Grand

Rapids. Their long-drawn, out-of-breath note often heard at

Chippewyan.

559. Spizella monticola (Gie/.). TREE SPARROW.

Seven specimens; Grand Rapids, two ¢, Oct. 18; Rae, one 4,
Oct. 11, one 9, July 21; Crow Nest Pass, April 11-15.

559A. Spizella monticola ochracea Brewsz.
WESTERN TREE SPARROW.

Two specimens, 6; Chippewyan, May 23-June 9.
560. Spizella socialis (Wis.). CHIPPING SPARROW.
Three specimens; one 4, one 2, one ?, Chippewyan, Oct. II.

Abundant.

s60a. Spizella socialis arizonae Cowes
WESTERN CHIPPING SPARROW.

One specimen; Chippewyan, May 30.
561. Spizella pallida (Szwazns.). CLAY-COLORED SPARROW.

Two specimens; Rae, one Juv.

867. Junco hyemalis (Zzvz.). SLATE-COLORED JUNCO.

Twelve specimens; Grand Rapids, one ?, Nov. 11; Chippe-
wyan, May I9, one 4. Abundant at both stations, breeding at

268 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

the latter one, at least, where I collected a nest containing five
eggs; it was in an exposed situation in a recess at the foot of a
sloping bank. Crow Nest Pass, one 4, three ?, April 10-11.
583. Melospiza lincolni (Aud). LINCOLN’s SPARROW.
One specimen, °, Chippewyan, May 28. Rare. Constantly
moving, “tipping” like a sandpiper about the roots of swamp-
willows.
584. Melospiza georgiana (Zazh.). Swamp SPARROW.

Two specimens, 6; Chippewyan, June 2.

607. Piranga ludoviciana (117Js.). LouIsIANA TANAGER.

One specimen; Fort Smith; June 28. Rare.

614. Tachycineta bicolor (V7ei//.). WuHITE-BELLIED SwALLow.

Four specimens, one é, one 9, two ?; Chippewyan, May 20.
A pair were building in a hollow tree, June 3d; no eggs at that
date.

61g. Ampelis cedrorum (Vze2//.). CEDAR WAXWING.
Co-sa-go-pa-ton-e-chase, C.
Three specimens, two 4, one ?; Grand Rapids, Sept. 8-9.
621. Lanius borealis Vrezd?. NORTHERN SHRIKE.

One specimen, 9; Crow Nest Pass, April 11. Common.

624. Vireo olivaceous (Lz27.). RED-EYED VIREO.

Two specimens, one 2, one 2; Chippewyan, June 6. Common.

626. Vireo philadelphicus (Cass.). PHILADELPHIA VIREO.
One specimen, 7; Chippewyan, June 5. Only one seen.
636. Maniotilta varia (Linm.). Biack AND WHITE WARBLER.

One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, May 26. Not uncommon.

647. Helminthophila peregrina (//7/s.). TENNESSEE WARBLER.

Four specimens, two 4, one 9, one ?; Chippewyan, May 30-
June 6. Abundant.

NATURAL HISTORY.—BIRDS 269

650. Dendroica tigrina (Grme/.). Cape May WarBLER.

One specimen; Chippewyan, May 31. Only one seen. A
straggler?

652. Dendroica aestiva (Gmel.). YELLOW WARBLER.

Four specimens; three 4, one 2, Chippewyan, May 24—June 6.
The first warbler to make its appearance (May 24), and by the
middle of June the commonest species of the order.

655. Dendroica coronata (Linz). MyrTLE WARBLER.

Six specimens; Chippewyan, two 4, two 9, one ?, May 24-30;
Rae, one Q, July 27.

657. Dendroica maculosa ( Gme/.). MaGnotia WARBLER.

One specimen, 4; Chippewyan, June 6. A Cree, who saw
me making up the skin, admired the beautiful plumage, and
remarked, ‘‘Tap-is-kute pi-e-sis o-ki-mow”’—probably it is a
king among the little birds!

661. Dendroica striata (Forsz.). Brack Pott WarBLER.
Two specimens, one 4, one 9; Chippewyan, May 31.
675a. Seiurus noveboracensis notabilis (Azdgzw.).

GRINNELL’S WATER THRUSH.

Two specimens; Chippewyan, 6, May 24-26. Abundant for
two weeks and then disappearing—passing northward.

687. Setophaga ruticilla (Zzzz.). AMERICAN REDSTART.

Three specimens, 4, Chippewyan, June 5. Common, very
tame, often coming within a few feet of me.

697. Anthus pensilvanicus (Lazh.). AMERICAN PIPIT.

Two specimens; Chippewyan, 6, May 20; Herschel Island,
2, July 18. Rare at both stations.

735. Parus atricapillus Linn. CHICKADEE.
Twelve specimens; Grand Rapids, Nov. 18-Feb. 8. Common.

20

270 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

7354. Parus atricapillus septentrionalis (Harris).
LONG-TAILED CHICKADEE.

One specimen, 6; Chippewyan, May 30.

740. Parus hudsonicus Fors¢. Hupsonian CHICKADEE.

Eight specimens; Grand Rapids, seven, Nov. 9g-Feb. 10;
Chippewyan, one, 4, May 31.

749. Regulus calendula (Zzzz.). RuBY-CROWNED KINGLET.

Two specimens, ¢; Chippewyan, May 30-Juneg. The fol-
lowing spring I heard the loud note of this pigmy songster at
Big Slavey Point, north of the Great Slave Lake, on May 13;
the ground was still deeply covered with snow. There could
be no mistaking the note—“ fatal use,” “ fatal use;” or, “ chappie,
chappie, jackfish.”

761. Merula migratoria (Zzzz.). AMERICAN RoBin.
Pa-pes-cha-o, C.
Six specimens; Grand Rapids, one 4, one 9, Sept. 7; Fort
Smith, nest and three eggs, June 28.

FISH

Coregonus clupeiformis (A@éch.) Mil. WHITEFISH.
U-tik-u-me-kwa, C. Thlu-i, D. R. Thlu-a,S. Tluk-tik-i-, L.

As the game animals disappear the settlements become more
and more dependent on the food fishes of which the various
species of coregoni are by far the most important. Fortunately
the whitefish is abundant, occurring in nearly every stream and
lake in the region visited. It is a gregarious fish which may
travel long distances in search of food at the different seasons,
or in order to reach shallow waters in which to spawn. Asa
result of these migrations, whole tribes of Indians are sometimes
reduced to starvation. The Company’s trading stations, though
located near the best fisheries, frequently suffer from the partial
failure of the fall fishery. The scarcity of fish at Resolution
in the fall of 1893 was ascribed to the high easterly winds
which prevailed during the season.

This fish appears to supply all the necessary elements for
the nourishment of the body, as it is not only the sole article
of diet, but is even preferred by many of the voyageurs while
engaged in severe labor. I have eaten no other food but white-
fish for weeks at a time, and certainly preferred them to dried
caribou meat, though they were nearly always prepared by
boiling. On this subject, Richardson! says, ‘Though it is a
rich, fat fish, instead of producing satiety it becomes daily
more agreeable to the palate; and I know from experience,
that though deprived of bread and vegetables, one may live
wholly upon this fish for months, or even years, without tiring.”
“The mode of cooking the attihawmeg is generally by boiling.
After the fish is cleaned, and the scales scraped off, it is cut
into several pieces, which are put into a thin copper kettle,
with water enough to cover them, and placed over a slow fire;

1 Fauna, p. 195.
271

272 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

as soon as the water is on the point of boiling, the kettle is
taken off, shook by a semi-circular motion of the hand back-
wards and forwards, and replaced on the fire a short time. If
the shaking be not attended to exactly at the proper moment,
or be unskilfully performed, the fish coagulating too suddenly
becomes comparatively dry to the taste, and the soup is poor.”
I was told that the reason for this shaking was “ to keep it from
sticking to the kettle.” Usually no attention is paid to the
soup which is, as may be imagined, without salt, not very
palatable, though we greatly relished it during our starvation
trip across the Great Slave Lake in September, 1893.

The stomach is said to be a “ favorite morsel with the voy-
ageurs;” it is not “cleaned and boiled with the rest of the fish”
by the Dog Ribs, who usually roast it directly upon the coals,
while the kettle is boiling; after scraping the ashes from this
blackened morsel they appear to relish it very much and fre-
quently give it to the children. Of the two methods of cooking
in vogue, roasting is much the better; the fish is opened along
the back, cleaned, scraped, a skewer run through to spread it
laterally, and then fixed on the end of a stick which may be
set in the ground or snow before the fire. It is opened along
the back because the thick flesh at the edges of the cut does
not curl and cause it to cook unevenly when subjected to heat.

The inhabitants of the country, especially those in charge of
the “pret” become expert in judging the condition of whitefish.
The ‘fat fish has a “scooped head,” that is, the shoulders are
raised and plump with fat; they are, also, deeper posteriorly.

The lake whitefish arrive at Grand Rapids about the roth of
May, and move out about twenty miles off shore early in July.
After that date the four fishing companies, which annually ex-
port several thousand pounds of frozen whitefish from Lake
Winnepeg, set their nets on the Saskatchewan Grounds. They
have freezing stations at Swampy, Reindeer, and Selkirk
Islands and at the mouth of the Saskatchewan and Little Sas-
katchewan Rivers. Several miles of gill nets are maintained,
and the catch in 1892 exceeded that of any preceding year.

The most of the Company’s posts have been established near
fisheries or points where the whitefish come during the spawn-
ing season. They are then taken in large numbers and “ hung”
for consumption during the long winter.

NATURAL HISTORY.—FISH 273

The harvest time of the Grand Rapids Indians is in October
when the fish come into the shoal waters, which extend for sev-
eral miles southeast of the reserve. Each family buys or begs
six balls of twine from which the women soon weave a net,
sixteen meshes wide, and twenty-five to thirty fathoms long.
This is a stormy season and the coast is fully exposed to the
northerly gales which frequently prevent them from visiting
the nets for days and sometimes the net, heavily loaded with
fish, is carried away and lost, a serious misfortune to the pov-
erty-stricken owner. Ordinarily the net is visited two or three
times a day. The fish are hung at the fishery in “sticks” upon
staging, to dry and freeze; a stick, an inch in diameter is thrust
through the tail and they are hung heads downward in bunches
of ten. The flesh becomes firmer by this process which usually
tends to improve them, but if warm weather overtakes them
while on the stage the characteristic “hung” flavor becomes
unbearably rank. Larger fish are reduced to the whitefish
standard by hanging fewer of them in each bunch.

The gill nets used in the eddies of the streams are shorter
than those of the lake. Scoop nets are used at the Grand
Rapids of the Saskatchewan in September and October. They
are two to three feet in diameter with a handle twelve feet
long. The net is swept down with the current, sometimes,
bringing up two or three fish at a haul; again, the fisherman
casts for hours without success. It is very fatiguing work,
standing in the snow and swinging the heavy net, dripping with
ice-cold water. The whitefish taken in the river are much
smaller than those from Lake Winnipeg.

What are known as “small! whitefish” weigh two to three
pounds. I found these in the Saskatchewan, Slave, and Buffalo
Rivers, and at Rae. The “large whitefish” were abundant in
Lake Winnipeg, at Resolution, Hay River, and Big Island,
about the Great Slave Lake and on the Lower Mackenzie and
the Peel River. Old Jack Fiddler sent two fish to the post,
during my stay, which weighed fifteen and sixteen pounds each.
Whitefish have been caught near Grand Rapids which exceeded
twenty pounds each in weight, The nets are set under the ice
in winter, especially if the fall fishery has been a failure. This
is done by cutting holes at intervals through which by means
of a long, spliced pole a line is passed by which the net is

274 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

dragged under when the ice becomes five or six feet thick.
Considerable labor is required to dig the deep trenches in which
to pass the pole under. Sticks are set up in a circle around the
ends of the net, which support the blanket of the fisherman
when the net is visited; the shelter being placed on the wind-
ward side, nothwithstanding this precaution it is bitterly cold
work, handling the net, when the hands are raised out of water.
Two persons are required to handle a net under the ice, one
attends to the net itself and the other, to the line by which it
is reset.!

The average fall catch made by the Indians at Grand Rapids
is about 11,000. The largest number secured by one family
was 1,000, the smallest, 140, the average, only 375. This was,
of course, an insufficient supply, and several families were
“starving ” before February, that is, either living on hares, owls,
martens, and other fur-bearing animals from the traps, or steal-
ing from the log pens in which their more industrious neigh-
bors had cached their fish along the lake shore, to be hauled in
by dogs in the winter.

Two specimens, skeletons, Grand Rapids.

Acipenser rubicundus Le Sueur. LakE STURGEON.
Ni-me-o, C.

A fair-sized sturgeon is occasionally taken from the nets far
off shore in Lake Winnipeg, but since the advent of the steam-
boats in 1872, they are never found about the post. Previous
to that time they were abundant at all seasons except during
the month of March (according to McLean). Richardson?
states that, ‘‘The great rapid which forms the discharge of
the Saskatchewan into Lake Winnipeg, appears quite alive
with these fish in the month of June, and some families of the
natives resort thither at that time to spear them with a har-
poon, or grapple them with a strong hook tied to a pole.”
“ The Saskatchewan sturgeon weighs from ten to twenty pounds,
and rarely attains the weight of sixty.” It is common in Cedar
and Moose Lakes and along the Saskatchewan.

Sturgeon were caught at the narrows, the outlet of Cedar
Lake, throughout the winter of 1892. The isinglass, air blad-

1Vide Schoolcraft, Part II, p. 51.
2 Fauna, p. 280.

NATURAL HISTORY.—FISH 275

der (nemaskwa), is purchased at the Company’s posts for 67
cents a pound; ten fish furnish one pound.

Esox lucius Linz. JACKFISH.
IMk-ta,D.R. Un-t8,S.—- Ultin, L.

The pike, or, as it is generally known in the North, the jack-
fish, is found throughout the region visited, but it is far less
abundant than the whitefish and less esteemed for food.

I first saw them in Lake Winnipeg south of Grand Rapids
where they were abundant in the reeds along the shore of shal-
low bays. I found them quite common on the north coast of
the Great Slave Lake and in the Yellow Knife River. The
Slavey Indians near the outlet of the lake were subsisting upon
them when I passed that point in May, 1894. The jackfish is
said to be fat and well-flavored at that season but it was cer-
tainly inferor to the whitefish. My dogs were starving at that
time yet they ate sparingly of them, and when well fed on
whitefish, refused to eat jackfish.

Nets intended for their capture are made of “jackfish twine,”
somewhat heavier than that in other nets, but they are rarely
used. Holes torn in the nets at Rae were generally attributed
to the jackfish.

INSECTS
Class HEXAPODA.

HE insects! collected on this expedition are comparatively

few in number, in consequence of the time being fully taken
up with more conspicuous forms of life. Aside from a locust
(Melanoplus bivittatus Say), an humble-bee, a Phryganeid and a
small fly (Dzlophus), all from Grand Rapids, they belong to the
orders Lepidoptera and Coleoptera, and in general represent
species which are characteristic of or common in the pine-cov-
ered regions of Canada and the country of the Great Lakes;
some of them indeed extending even far to the southward of
the Canadian boundary.

Order LEPIDOPTERA.

NYMPHALID&.
Vanessa antiopa Zzzn. MourninG CLoak.

Several specimens of this species, which is common to both of
the northern continents, were obtained at Fort Rae in August

Vanessa milberti Gaz. MILBERT’S BUTTERELY.
Fort Rae, August 12th.

SATURNID&.
Attacus cecropia Zzn. Cecropia Motu.

One specimen, Fort Rae, August 12th.

Order COLEOPTERA.
CARABIDA.

Trachypachys inermis ots.

Slave Lake, one specimen. This species is widely distributed
in North America, through the northern and mountain regions.

1 Report furnished by H. F. Wickham.
276

NATURAL HISTORY.—INSECTS 274

It occurs in Alaska, Vancouver Island, Washington, Oregon,
Idaho, and in the mountains of New Mexico and Colorado.

Bembidium variegatum Say.

Grand Rapids, L. Winnipeg. One specimen. Common in
Canada and the United States.

Pterostichus orinomum Leach.

Grand Rapids. A common insect from Alaska to Labrador

and occurring also in Oregon, Idaho, and the mountains of
Colorado and Montana.

Amara erratica Stumm.

Grand Rapids. Northern America, Asia, Europe; in this
country extending from Alaska to the Atlantic, south to Lake
Superior and Vermont.

Platynus sinuatus De7.

Slave Lake. Common in the northern regions from New
England to British Columbia.

Platynus obsoletus Szy.

Fort Rae. This has lately been placed in synonymy with P.
bogemanni Gyll., of northern Europe. Alaska, Oregon, British
Columbia, Canada, North Eastern and Middle States, west to
Colorado. Siberia.

Platynus picipennis Kzrdy. :

Slave Lake. Occurs in Canada and the Lake Superior
region.
Harpalus basilaris K7rdy.

Fort Rae, one specimen. Extends southward to Colorado
and Wyoming (Greeley and Cheyenne).

DYTISCIDA.

Ilybius pleuriticus Lec.
Slave Lake, on the ice. Also found in Pennsylvania, Iowa,
and at Lake Superior.

21

278 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

. GYRINIDA.
Gyrinus maculiventris Zec.

Grand Rapids, one specimen.

HYDROPHILIDZ.
Hydrobius fuscipes Lznz.

Slave Lake. Common in Europe; in this country it extends
across the northern half of the continent, from the Atlantic to
Oregon and thence along the Pacific coast down to Southern
California.

SILPHIDE.

Necrophorus pustulatus Aersch., var. melsheimeri Kzrdy.
Grand Rapids. <A widely distributed northern form.

Silpha lapponica erdsz.

Grand Rapids and Fort Smith. Common in the northern
and western portions of this continent and in the north of
Europe.

STAPHYLINIDE.
Arpedium cribratum Fazv.
Slave Lake.
COCCINELLIDA.

Coccinella transversoguttata Fa/d.

Slave Lake and Fort Rae. Abundant in parts of Canada
and the Rocky Mountain region of the United States; occurs
also at Lake Superior, in Greenland, California and Mexico.

Coccinella monticola J7/z/s.

Slave Lake. Also occurs at Lake Superior, in Oregon, Van-
couver Island, and the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.

ELATERIDA.
Corymbites morulus Lec.

Fort Rae. Known also from Colorado.

BUPRESTID&.
Dicerca tenebrosa Kzrdby.

Fort Smith, Found not uncommonly in Canada and the
states adjoining the Great Lakes.

NATURAL HISTORY.—INSECTS 279

Melanophila longipes Szy.

Fort Smith. Has a wide northern and montane distribution
in the United States and Canada.

é LAMPYRID&A.,
Ellychnia corrusca Zz7.

Grand Rapids. Common in Canada and most of the United
States east of the Rocky Mountains.

CERAMBYCID&.
Merium proteum X7zrdy.

Fort Smith. Also occurs in Alaska, British Columbia, Can-
ada, and our northern states.

Xylotrechus undulatus Say.

Grand Rapids. More or less abundant in British Columbia,
Canada, and our northern states generally.

Leptura sexmaculata Zznz.

Fort Smith. Reported also from Europe and Siberia, Can-
ada, the Rocky Mountains, and several of our northern states.

Monohammus scutellatus Say.
Fort Smith.

Monohammus confusor Kzrdy.

Grand Rapids. Both of these are characteristic of the great
belt of coniferous forests and its southern extension.

CHRYSOMELID&.
Chrysomela multipunctata Szy.
Fort Smith.

Galerucella nymphaeae 277.
Slave Lake.

Haltica ignita ///.

Fort Rae, All of these Chrysomelide are of wide distribu-
tion and common far to the southward of the localities in which
they were taken.

280 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

TENEBRIONIDE.
Upis ceramboides zn.
Fort Smith. Europe and Asia; extends across the northern
portion of North America, particularly in the coniferous belt
from Maine to Montana.

CURCULIONIDE.
Lepyrus colon Lzzz.
Fort Smith. Found in Europe and Siberia; Mt. Washington,
New Hampshire, Hudson’s Bay region.

Pissodes affinis Rand.
Fort Smith.
SCOLYTIDA.
Xyloterus bivittatus Wann.
Slave Lake. Reported from Alaska, British Columbia, Can-
ada, and our northern states in general, extending southward
to California and New Mexico.

LIST OF THE FOSSILS. 281

LIST OF THE FOSSILS.

DEVONIAN.
MIDDLE DEVONIAN.

Cyathophyllum cespitosum (Goldfuss) Meek.
Cyathophyllum arcticum Meek.

Cyathophyllum (sp?)

Cystiphyllum americanum var. arcticum Meek var.
Spirifer sublineatus Meek.

Cyrtina hamiltonensis Hall.

Atrypa reticularis Linnazus.

Atrypa aspera Schlotheim.

Pentamerus comis Owen.

Newberria lavis Meek.

UPPER CRETACEOUS.

LARAMIE.
Unio (sp?)
Viviparus prudentius White.
Physa copei var. canadensis Whiteaves.*

*This last species is scarcely distinguishable from Budlimus disjunctus
White.

Acanthis linaria, .
Accipiter atricapillus,
velox, f
Acipenser zubicundus, i
Actitis macularia,
Aegialitis semipalmata,
Albino Caribou, Skin of,
Alces machlis,. . .

INDEX

ree) by

method of capturing, . .

range of,

value of,
Aleutian Islands, .
Allen, J. A.,
Amara exraticn.

155,

Ammodramus maaioigheaste

alaudinus,

Ampelis cedrorum,
Amulets, . :
Anas americana, .

boschas, .

carolinensis,

penelope, ae
Anthus pensilvanicus, .

183,

Archibuteo lagopus sancti-jo-

hannis,

Arctic Circle, across ties
Arctic Ocean, A
Arpedium cribratum,
Arrows, 4%
Asio wilsonianus, .
Athabasca Lake, .

landing,

river, .

Grand Rapids of the, .

262

49, 55, 59

49, 51

34, 40, 49, 55, 59

51, 55

Athabascans,
calendar,
education, .
habits,
language,
leaders, .
lodges,
migration, .
provision,
religion, .
superstitions, .

Atkinson, ‘“‘Old’’ Joe,

Attacus cecropia, .

Aurora,

Ayee ecwoh, m’ metas

Aythya affinis, .
collaris, .

Babiche,

Back, Captain Gece, .

Bailey Island,
“Balena,’’ on board,
Barren Ground,

first sight of,

journey through,

start for,

superstitions bei
Bear, grizzly,

polar,. ,
Begg, Alexander, .
Behring Sea, crossing, .
Bembidium variegatum,
Big Island,

fishing at,

journey to, .

PAGE,
158

165

159

159

165

» . 164
160, 161
161, 162
163, 164
162, 163
- 163
2,27
276

12

90

257

257

ne AD
8, 66, 106
» . 151
147, 148
70, 71, 76
111

112, 113
72

71

138, 139
151, 155
28

155

277

131

85

127

284

PAGE
Bird Darts, o % 193
Birds, collectingin Delta,. . 60
at Grand Rapids, 2.10; 33
at Herschel’s Island, 149
on Mackenzie River, 138
atRae, . « 4 « # «+ « 86
Bison americanus, 231
range of, 232
Bison antiquus, F 232
Boiler Rapids,running, . 55
Bompas, Bishop, . . . . 29
Bonasa umbellus togata, . 260
umbellus umbelloides, 260
Books printed in Cree sylla-
bics, 184
Bow Drill, 194
Bows, aus 191
Branta anes 258
canadensis hutchinsii, 258
Breach of promise case at
Grand Rapids, . . . 24
BENGE: (Diag. ce. -cns the bs ke ods Ug 4
Bubo virginianus, 262
Buffalo Hunt, « « TOG
Buffalo River, night ait, 96
Bull, Head, . . ...., 43
Burial Places of Crees,. . =
Buteo borealis, . 261
Buttons, oe Bo ee 8 184
‘“‘Cakes,”’ ae oS 5
Calcarius lapponions, . 267
CalicoIsland, . . . ‘ ie
Calidris arenaria, . pr Ade- GePa2o9
Camsell, J. S., . 45, 68, 160
Canis lagopus, . 243
lupus, 241
vulpes, 242
Canoe model, . . 184
Canoes, 176, 177
Canoe trip across Great Sieve
LAK 6 2 & x & % 79
Cape Bathurst, . i 148
Cape Smythe, whaling sta-
tions at, i a Se
Cape Tchaplin, 155, 188
Cariacus macrotus, 224

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH.

PAGE
Caribou hunt, first, x s « 88
preparations for hunt, . 74
superstitions about, . . 71
Carpodacus purpureus, . 266
Carrying Straps, . ~ » 124
Cascade Rapids, . . . . 54
Castor canadensis, . : 251
Cedar Lake, Me Ree ee ae ge 2B Cae
boattripto .. . . 10
Ceophloeus pileatus, 263
Ceryle alcyon, . 263
Charadrius dominicus 259
squatarola, . 259
Chartier, Antoine, 29, 36
Chemawawin, Indian Reserve
of, . ee ¥ 10
arrival at, ‘ ‘ 12
Chest Portage,. . . . . 61
Chillouis, . + oe in ae 04
Chippewyan, . 45, 49, 56, 57
Chi-sai-witc-in,. 135
Chordeiles virginianus, 264
Christmas day, 100
Chrysomela reilpuindtata, 279
Circus hudsonius, 261
Clangula hyemalis, . 139
Clay, edible, 133
Clearwater River, . . ~ 3S
Coccinella iramevensoanbiata, 278
monticola, . 278
Cohoyla, Johnnie, 108, 109, 111, 112;
113, 116, 117, 118, 121, 164
Colaptes auratus, . 264
cafer, +e » « « 264
“Colville” 2 » i 1
Colymbus holbeellii, 254
nigricollis californicus, . 254
pacificus, 2 » + 139
Coppermine River, » . 45, 71
in camp on, 112
Coregonus chineitigants, 271
manner of cooking, 271
method of capture, 273
Corvus americanus, 265
corax principalis, 265
Corymbites morulus, 278

INDEX

PAGE

Crania, r 199
Crees, . . Gt OF een amis Cae
belts of, pure eo ho |) ee
capotes, 26
caps,. .. wae 27
moccasins, . ee
Cross Lake, i 4-3 «6 4s & ws Al
Crow Nest Pass, 48
Cups, 184
Cyanocitta iuioks: - 264
Dafila acuta, ‘ 257
Dawson, Capt. H. P., . 69, 87, 242
Deer, Dressing skin of, 185, 186
snare, 179
Demi-charge Rapids, 11, 33, 35
Dendragapus canadensis, . 260
Dendroica wstiva, . » . 269
coronata, 209
maculosa, 269
striata, e 4 . 269
tigrina, . 1 «6 . © » « 269
Dicerca tenebrosa, .. . . 278
Dilophus, . 276
Dogs, cruel treatment of, 15. 16
disappearance of, 111
driving, . 14
feeding, ea oe ee 95, FOF
training, . . .. . .. 15
shoes. 42,174
whips, : ‘ 179
Dog Head, journey is : 43
Dog Ribs, 70, 71, 80, 109, 112
114, 115, 116, 119, 123, 162, 163
capotes of, 170
caps of, 170, 171
caribou skin, lodge of, 168
clothing of, 169
hunting frock, 169
leather gown of, 170
leggins, 171
moccasins, 172
Drake, Sir Francis, 26
Drum, . 176
drawings on, . 37
drumstick, 37
Dryobates pubescens, 263

285

PAGE

villosus, 263
villosus leucomelas, 263
Duck-hunting, . 12, 85
Duffels, 173
Kast Cape, settlement ait, 154
Easter among Dog Ribs, . 110
Eicagoo, 181
Eddy Brothers, thoséitalits of, 48
Edmonton, 35, 49, 126
Embarras River, . . 56
Emile, 79, 81
superstitions of, . 82
Empidonax minimus, 264
wrightii, 264
Ereunetes pusillus, 259
Krismatura rubida, 258
Escape Reef, 143
Eskimo graves, 145
Eskimos, Boots of, 189
buttons, 190
camp, a 141
dress, 141, 146, 187
frock of, . 187, 188
hospitality of, 142
mittens of, . 189
moccasins of, 172
rain frock, 188
trousers, 188
Esox lucius, 275
Expedition, piniceks of, ae 46, 223
plans of, 45, 124
Falco columbarius, 262
peregrinus anatum, 262
sparverius, 262
Faraud, Henri, 12, 112, 159
Far North, 34, 40, 106
Faville, Captain ‘‘Joe,’’ 50, 51
Felis canadensis; . 240
Fiber zibethicus, . 250
Fielden, Major, 234, 248
Fire Bags, 197
steel, 175
Fisher Bay, . 43
Fishhooks, 195
Fishing Lake, . 75
“Flying Post,”’ 33

286

PAGE
Fossils, Collecting . . . . 53
at Cape Lisburne, 153
near Good Hope, » 133
Francois, Little, 97, 103, 104
demands of, 100, 101
excuse of, 101
Franklin, Sir John, 76, 136, 143, 147
232, 242
Frobisher, Benjamin, . . . 34
Fulmar glacialis rodgersii, 256
Gale, loss from a terrific, . 10
Galerucella nymphea, . 279
Game Bags, . 178, 179
Gaudette, C. P., 133
Good Hope, . 133
arrival at, 133
start from, . i 134
“Grahame,”’ 50, 51, 55, 57, 61
Grand Rapids, . 41, 44
arrivalat, . . oe 1
Grand Traverse, across, 105
Grand View, » . 134
Grave of Indian Chief, . oa 3
Gravel Point, . . .. . 65
Great Bear Lake, . 45, 108, 162
Great Slave Lake, . 40, 68, 131
sledge trip around,. . . 91
Gros Cape, 82, 84
Gulo luscus, . 240
Gun cases, ne tad wots 178
Gyrinus maculiventris, 278
Haliewétus leucocephalus, . 262
Haltica ignita, . 279
Hammer, . — 195
Haploceros montanus, . 237
Hares, snaring, . - 14
on Little Buffalo Rives, 102
Harness, i ces Mok Bow “6
Harness swivels, 196
Harpalus basilaris, 277
Harpoons, % he we E98
Hay River, S ¢> Swe ae (196
natives of, . . . 96

Hearne, Samuel, 132, 158, 164, 227,
228, 229, 233, 247.

Helminthophila peregrina, 268

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH

PAGE

Herald Island, - 153

Herschel Island, 125, 134, 137, 138,
141, 145, 146.

arrival at, 147
Hind, H. Y., 12, 33, 136, 181
Hislop, James, . 251
Histrionicus histrionicus, . 257

Hodgson, Jos., 78, 85, 105, 106, 124,
125, 126, 164, 246.

Houses of Crees, . . 25
Hudson’s Bay Companys 2 2, 32, 33,
40, 57, 58.

Steamers of, . . « « « 35
Humbug Bay, . . .... 43
Hydrobius fuscipes, 278
Ice ‘‘Bucking,’’ 148
Ice harvest, . is ae oe aes |
Idol,. G 180
Ilybius pleuvidiais, , 277
Jack Fiddler, F 19, 273
Jacktish Point, arrival af « « 130
“Jeanette,” 152, 154
Junco hyemalis, 267
Kay Point, 145, 150
Kelly, J. W., » . 144
King, Richard . ‘ 65, 230
Klotz, OtisJ... . . 2... 3
Knife, . 184, 194
Labrets, . . 190
Ladles, Yoo a DAA TOP
Laferté, Alexis, . . .. . 79

Vitall, 79, 81
La France, Joseph, . . . . 34
Lagopus lagopus, 260

rupestris, Fe 261
La Grosse Ile, . ... - 68
La Grosse Roche,. . . . . 69
Lahonton, Baron de. 243
Lake Agassiz, . . . . . . 46
Lake Winnipegoosis, . . . 36
Lamps, f a 195
Lanius borealis, 268
Larus argentatus anther.

jianus,. . oo se a 285

delawarensis,. . . . . 255

glaucus, . 255

INDEX.

PAGE

“Tee Tea,” . . . . 89, 94, 121
Le Grand Detour,. ... . 66
Lepus americanus, 248
timidus, . 247
Leptura mes miaculates 279
Lepyrus colon, . » . . 280
Letter of credit, . . ... 2
Leucosticte tephrocotis, 266
Lignite, - 132
L’Isle de Bick, 83, 84
near, . - « 104
Little Buffalo Rigen. 101, 102
journey up, F 102
opening a trailon,. 103
Long Point,. . ..... 5
imcampnear,. .... 41
Loucheux Indians, 105
camps of, 135
dress of, . 138
Loxia leucoptera, . 266
Lutra hudsonica, . 239
Lutreola vison, . 238
Lyon, Capt. G. F., . 244
Mackenzie River, . 41, 140, 142

upthe, . .. wow> & “96:

Mackenzie, Sir Ries: ee . 230
Mackinlay, Mr., 97, 98, 99
Macleod, . . 45, 47, 253

inhabitantsof, . . . . 47
Mailteam, ....... 93

driver of, 93, 94
Mal de racquette, . 18, 43, 105, 109,

120 ;

Indian remedy for, . 123
Manitoba Plains,. . .. . 46
Marriage, . om eo QA
Marsh, Mr. T. 5g 2% 96
Masson, G. R., 34, 57, 58, 69, 132, 136
McConnell, R. G., 230
McLean, Augie. 35, 41
McMurray, arrivalat, . . . 55
McPherson, . 134

arrival at, a4 137
Medicine,. . .....- + 29

287

PAGE

Medicine Hat, . . . .. . 46
Melanophila longipes, . 279
Melanoplus bivittatus, . 276
Melospiza georgiana, 268
lincolni, . ‘ 268
Mephitis mephitica, . 238
Merganser americanus, 256
Merium proteum, . 279
Merula migratoria, - + 270
Metis dance, ...... 23
“orchestra 4 1 « « a2 2B
wedding, ..... . 22
Micropalma himantopus, . 258
Mills, Capt. J. W., 61, 65
Mirage, - 127
Mission at Grand Rapids, » 321
Christmas Eve at Roman Cath-
OliGs.| a) ay ee eke See 99
Mittens, é 173
Mniotilta varia, 268
wlode of burial of Hakinos, 199
Molothrus ater, ‘ 265
Monohammus confusor, 279
scutellatus, . . 279
Moose, dressing skin of, . 184,185
first, 6
hunt, first, ai 4
second, .« « «© © « 7

peculiar behavior of a, 8
stalking, > Cae tort 8
“Mooswa,” . . . . . + 13,51
Morgan, L. H., 251

Mosquitoes, 53, 62, 64, 146, 147, 151

Murdoch, John, » . 190
Murray, Capt. F. C., 148, 236
Museum at Simpson, 132
Muskeg, Fi 4,5
Musk-ox, first aight of, . 114
Musk-ox hunt, 108
outfit for, 4 /« 109
Muskrats, 138, 139
Mustela americana, . 238
pennanti, 239
Myths of the Wood Gece. 201

288

PAGE
creation myth, 205
how sea water became unfit to

drink, . 217
how written, 201
length of, 201
moose and hare, . 216
moose and jackfish, 217
okaskewaysesuk, 211
origin of animal fat, 209

of change in ermine’s

fur, Zit

of touchwood, 212

owl and cascade, 217
story of the deluge, 206
Teena’s story, 220
thunderbolt, . 210
Waimesesoo, . 203, 204
tricks of, . 204

why trees are twisted, 2U8
' Wisagatchak,. 201, 206
as a doctor, 207

bear and, 209
beaver and, 213
becomes blind, 215

beginning of wander-

ings, . 202

end of, . x 3 216

his brother, . 203, 206

his wife, e 204
nighthawk and, 210

Nahanni mountains, 132
river, « 132
Napasis, 4,5
Narrows, . : 33, 43
Necrophorus pastulatus, 278
Needle cases, , 197
‘‘Nesoo mo-ni-as-uk,” . . . 9
Net floats, 195
sinkers, 195
Netting needles, A 195
New Year’s day, . 23, 100
Nine Lakes, . 2 75, 77
Nomonyx dominicus, 258
Norman, . 133
Nucifraga eoiaihiatien Fe . 265
Nutting, Prof. C. C., 4, 46, 124,

237, 253

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH.

PAGE

Odemia perspicillata, 258
Ogilvie, William, . 231
“Old John,”’’ 93, 94, 97
Old Peter, 47, 48
Omiaks, & y 4 ig 197
Ooskanatchet, . 35, 36, 37, 38
medicine drumof, . . . 36
peace-pipe of,. . . . 36
Otocoris alpestris leticalecttia,. 264
Outfit, suppliesin, . . . . 49
Ovibos moschatus, 232
method of capture, 235
range of,. 235
Ovis montana, . 236
montana dalli, 236
Pack saddle, 182
Paddles, A 184
Pandion hatiicetus earotacdels,

262

Parry, Capt. W. E.,. 244, 248
Parus atricapillus, 269

Parus atricapillus septentrionalis,

270
hudsonicus, : 270
Pauguk, se hae GAR AD apo, & 36
Pauline harbor, 148, 151
settlements at, 149
Pediocetes phasianellus, . 261
Peel river, 136, 137, 138
Pelecanus erythrorhynchus, . 256
Perisoreus canadensis,. . 205, 264

Peromyscus leucopus articus—? 250
Petitot, Emile, 32, 144, 167, 201, 202
Phalaropus lobatus, . . 258
Phillips Bay, settlement on,. 145
Picoides americanus alascensis, 263

arcticus, & oe ae. Bes
Pike, Warburton, . 26, 63, 124, 235
Pincher Creek,. . . . . . 47
Pinicola enucleator, . » 266
Pipes, . . 180, 184, 190
Piranga ludoviciana, 268
Pissodes affinis, 280

Plains, present condition af; 48, 49

Platynus obsoletus, . 277
picipennis, . 277
sinuatus, . . . . . . 27

INDEX.

PAGE

Plectrophenax nivalis, . 266
Point Barrow, . 150
arrival at, ‘ 152
Point Ennuyeux,. . . - 67
Population of NMackensie River
district, Pa. 160
“Portage,” the, . . . « . 33
Prisoner’sIsland, . . . . 33
Prospect Lake, 78; 77
Providence, . F 91, 92
arrivalat, . . . fe | RS
situation of, 131
Pterostichus orinomum, 277
Puffinus tenuirostris, . . 256
Pullen, Lieut., 56, 65, 139, 148
Putiorus erminea, 237

Rabaska, fe Re at, OE

Rabbit Point, 12, 34
Rabbit snares, . ie ee, 182
Rae, - 67, 68, 122
arrival at 3 Bas a 78
October at, caf ok 85
Periodical events recbeded at,
86
situation of, . ... . 69
Ramparts, .. 133
Rangifer tarandus, 225
method of capture, . 237
range of, 226
value of, 228
Rangifer tarandus ace, 224
range of, 224
Rattle, . eee 180.
Ravens, oo = « a +143;150
Reade,. . . ae . 19
Red Deer Rives, ee oh we. «Wels, 436
Red River, 1, 34, 35
Regulus ealendiia, 270
Reindeer Island, . e « « 42
Resolution, . 45, 67, 83, 85
arrivalat, ..... 97
fishing at,. .... . 85
scarcity of supplies at, . 97
Return Reef, 151

Richardson, Sir John, 63, 64, 136,
228, 232, 234, 271, 274

289

PAGE

Riley, Dr. C. V., 228
Roche Rouge Rapids, . . . 33
Rocky River, . . @ “ar aes POL
Ross, J. C., 244
Sagames, . zi 29
Sainville, Count aes 137, 139, 144,

147, 156
Salt River, 65, 66
Salvelinus namaycush,. . . 85
Sand-flies, . 2... .. 8
San Francisco, journey to, 156
arrival at, eee EST
Sargent, Chas. S., | 223
Sash, . 174
Saskatchewan River, 32, 34
Sayornis phcebe, 2 4 264
School, ... ooo ae 30
Schwatka, Pradevic. : i 64
Sciuropterus volucella subritids,
249

Sciurus hudsonius, - 249
Scolecophagus carolinus, . 266
cyanocephalus, 266
Scotiaptex cinereum, 262

Scrapers for dressing skins, v7 7,198

Seebohm, Henry, . oS
Segur, Capt., 51, 53,55
Seiurus noveboracensis notabilis,
269

Selkirk, , 1, 44
Separation, Point, . 136
Setophaga ruticilla, . 269
Shoalwater Bay, 140
Shot pouches, 175
Silpha lapponica, . 278
Simpson,. .. moe ee 5

arrival at, 132
Simpson’s Group, ... . 83
Simpson, Thomas, 135
Sinew, . 176
Slave River, . "65, 66, 101
Slaveys, r 162
Sleds, « « « ALS C28. Ay:

size of the load; 1% » « 26
Sleeping-bag, . . . .. . 9%

DMPA ae EO Get b> aS s « 6

290
PAGE
Smith, . - 61, 65, 67, 101, 134
Smith Landing, . ... . 61
Smith Rapids,. .... . 61
Snow-knife, . » . 194
Snow-shoe needle, 181, 182
Snow-shoes, . 17, 182, 183
Spatula clypeata, . » (25%
Spermophilus ine . 249
Sphyrapihcus varius, 263
Spizella monticola, 267
monticola ochracea, 267
pallida, 267
socialis, . : 267
socialis arizonae, 267
Stenodus mackenzii, . . . 85
Stercorarius longicaudus, . 255
parasiticus, 255
Sterna hirundo, sw, «9256
Sulphur Point,. . . . . . 9
Surnia ulula caparoch, . 262
Swampy Island, ..... 1
Tachycineta bicolor, 268
Tamias asiaticus, . . . 249
Tea-drinking, . . .... 18
Teakettles,. . ..... 39
Tenony, . 80, 88, 89, 91
Thain, Mr. John, . 133
Thalassarctos maritimus, . 244
Tobacco pouches, . 174
Towwatinnow Creek, . 50
Trachypachysinermis, . 276
Tracking, . . & geo a SED
Treaty with Greed. jb) ate) ve Be
terms of, 28, 29
Tringa bairdii, . 259
maritima, ‘ 259
Tryngites eunstntientlis, 259
Upis ceramboides, 280

EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH.

PAGE

Urinator imber, 254
lumme, 255
Ursus americanus, 245
horribilis, 246
richardsoni, 246
Vanessa antiopa, . 276
milberti, 276
Vireo olivaceus, 268
ee ta 268
Walrus, 3 154
Walrus ivory, 196
Warren Point, 143
Eskimos at, 144
dogs at, . . 144
Whales, 153, 154
Wickham, H. KF. eo 8 276
Winnipeg, . ...... 34
arrivalat,.«-4 <« «© . 44
Winnipeg, Lake, . 34, 44
passage across, . .. . 1
Work bags, . 176
Wrangel Island, 152, 153

“Wrigley,” 66, 67, 68, 78, 79, 125,

134, 245
Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus,
265
Xyloterus bivittatus, 280
Xylotrechus undulatus, 279
Yellow Knife Bay, . 74, 81, 131
Yellow Knife River, 72, 75
Yellow Knives, arrivalof, . 98
big talk of, 98, 99
leaders of, . . . . . . 98
New Year’s Dayamong,. 100
trade among,. . . . . 99
York factory, 33, 34
Zonotrichia albicollis, . 267
intermedia, 267