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€ Arctic

Ernest f hompson Scton

The Arctic Prairies

A C&noc -Journey

OF 2,000 MUGS IN JCARCH
OF TH6 CARIBOU

8eiNG TH6 ACCOUNT OF
AV0YA66 TO TH6 RCG10M
NORTH OF AYLMCR LAK6

By Ernest Thompson Seton

Author of ""Wild Animals I Have Known? "UfeHistoricsTCtc

PUBUSHED.BY-CHARLES SCRIBNERS SONS- NEW YORK CITY- AD -1920

First Edition
First Impression

November 16. 1911
Second Impression

February 26. 1912

New Uniform Edition
First Impression

August 18. 1917

Second Impression

May 24. 1920

DEDICATED
TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR WILFRID LAURIER, G. C. M.G.

PREMIER OF CANADA

PREFACE

What young man of our race would not gladly give
a year of his life to roll backward the Bcroll of time for
five decades and live that year in the romantic by-
gone days of the Wild West ; to sec the great Missouri
while the Buffalo pastured on its banks, while big game
teemed in sight and the red man roamed and hunted,
unchecked by fence or hint of white man's rule; or,
when that rule was represented only by scattered trad-
ing-posts, hundreds of miles apart, and at best the
traders could exchange the news by horse or canoe
and months of lonely travel?

I, for one, would have rejoiced in tenfold payment
for the privilege of this backward look in our age, and
had reached the middle life before I realised that, at a
much less heavy cost, the miracle was possible to-day.

For the uncivilised Indian still roams the far reaches
of absolutely unchanged, unbroken forest and prairie
leagues, and has knowledge of white men only in bar-
tering furs at the scattered trading-posts, where loco-
motive and telegraph are unknown; still the wild
Buffalo elude the hunters, fight the Wolves, wallow.
wander, and breed; and still there is hoofed game by
the million to be found where the Saxon is as seldom
seen as on the Missouri in the times of Lewis and
Clarke. Only we must seek it all, not in the West,
but in the far North-west; and for "Missouri and
Mississippi" read "Peace and Maekenzie River-,"
those noble streams that northward roll their mile-

vi PREFACE

wide turbid floods a thousand leagues to the silent
Arctic Sea.

This was the thought which spurred me to a six-
months' journey by canoe. And I found what I went
in search of, but found, also, abundant and better re-
wards that were not in mind, even as Saul, the son
of Kish, went seeking asses and found for himself a
crown and a great kingdom.

My thanks are due here to the Right Honourable
Lord Strathcona, G. C. M. G., Governor of the Hud-
son's Bay Company, for giving me access to the records
of the Company whenever I needed them for histori-
cal purposes; to the Honourable Frank Oliver, Minis-
ter of the Interior, Canada, for the necessary papers
and permits to facilitate scientific collection, and also
to Clarence C. Chipman, Esq., of Winnipeg, the Hud-
son's Bay Company's Commissioner, for practical help
in preparing my outfit, and for letters of introduction
to the many officers of the Company, whose kind help
was so often a Godsend.

Ernest Thompson Seton. fc

CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

In addition to the illustration* in the following list there
are in this book one hundred and twenty-five drawings in
pen and ink including a number of maps.

PAGE

Preface vii

CHAPTER

I. Departure for the North ... 3

Pierre Powder (It-tah-min-a-hoo) . . G

John Schott, Caspar Whitney's guide . 6

II. Down the Noisy River with the

Voyageurs 10

E. T. Seton and E. A. Preble leaving
Athabaska Landing, May 17, 1907 . 10

Down the Athabaska River ... 10

I found it was a dead house-cat; . . .

under it was a hungry-looking Lynx 12

Our camp above Grand Rapids, Atha-
baska River 14

Looking down the Athabaska River
from the island in the Grand Rapids 14

III. Human Nature on the River . . 19
Lobsticks or Monument Trees on the

skyline, Athabaska River ... 20

viii CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER PAGE

Camp on the Great Slave River 20
The Hudson's Bay Company convoy

descending the Athabaska River . 24

Grand Rapids, Athabaska River . . 24

IV. Down the Silent River with the

Mounted Police 26

The love-song of the Richardson Owl . 30

V. A Conference with the Chiefs . . 36

VI. Out with Sousi Beaulieu .... 40

VII. The Buffalo Hunt 44

Bear-claw marks on tree .... 44

The Buffalo herd disappearing in brush 48

VIII. Thomas Anderson 54

Thomas Anderson, Smith Landing,

June 11, 1907 54

Murdo Mackay, June 9, 1907 . . . 54

IX. Mosquitoes 61

X. A Bad Case 70

XL The Second Buffalo Hunt ... 75

The Athabaska Rose or Needle Bloom 76
Pierre Squirrel, Chief of the Chipew-

yans 76

XII. Bezkya and the Pills 83

CONTEXTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS ix

CHAPTER

XIII. Fokt Smith and the Social Queen 86

Indian cabin, Fort Smith .... 88
Starving squaws looking for the return

of the fisher boats 88

XIV. Rabbits and Lynxes in the North-

west 95

XV. Ebb \\i> Flow of Animal Life . . 107

XVI. Tin: Pelican Trip 113

XVII. The Third Buffalo Hunt .... 116

XVIII. Down to Fundamentals .... 125

XIX. White Max and Red. Meat, but

Nothing More 130

XX. On the Ntakltng 136

July camp on the Great Slave Lake . 136
The Nyarling Tessi or Underground

River 136

XXL Fort Resolution and Its Folk . . 143

Sunset on Slave River 144

Fori Resolution 144

XXII. The Chipewyans, Their Speech and

Writing 147

XXIII. The Dogs of Fort Resolution . . 159

XXIV. The Voyage Across the Lake . . 169

Our party at Lockhart River . . 170

CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER PAGE

XXV. Crossing the Lake. Its Natural

History 179

The Japanese landscape about Great

Slave Lake 182

Dwarf spruce, about four feet high, on

edge of the Barren-Grounds . . 182

Forcing ice on the Great Slave Lake . 186

The meal at the Lobstick, Pike's Port-
age 186

XXVI. The Lynx at Bay 190

Photographing a Lynx 192

XXVII. The Last of that Indian Crew . . 193

XXVIII. Geological Forces at Work . . . 197

XXIX. Pike's Portage 200

The Deathbirds, the Storm, and the

Wolverine 200

XXX. Caribou-Land at Last 204

♦

XXXI. Good-bye to the Woods .... 213

The giants on the edge of the forest . 216
An ancient dwarf about 250 years old.

Billy ready for action .... 216

XXXII. The Treeless Plains 219

Tyrrell's Monument at Last Woods . 220

The falls of the Casba River ... 220

Spring migration of Caribou . . . 222

CONTEXTS AND [ILLUSTRATIONS xi

CHAPTER PAGE

XXXIII. The Unknown 223

A young buck 224 «

Caribou with broken leg, in sanctuary 224

Same Caribou (another photo.) . . 224

The leap for life 226

XXXIV. Aylmer Lake 228

Caribou enjoying a breeze .... 228
The trophy that weighed nine hundred

pounds 228

XXXV. The Musk-ox 231

The head of the Musk-ox .... 232

Head of bull Musk-ox — a pencil study 232

Head of a young buck 234

An Arctic Fox in his summer coat . . 234

Earl Grey River, looking south-west . 236

XXXVI. The Arctic Prairies and My Far-
thest North 237

Getting the first sight of the Musk-ox . 238

The bull turned and faced us . . . 238

Snap-shot taken at fifty yards 238
The trout brook back of Tyrrell's

Monument, Last Woods 240

Typical landscape, Arctic Prairies . 240

XXXVII. Facing Homeward 246

XXXVIII. The First Woods 251

A Wolverine and her cubs stealing our

Caribou meat 252

xii CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER PAGE

XXXIX. Farewell to the Caribou .... 257

XL. Old Fort Reliance to Fort Reso-
lution 263

XLI. Going up the Lower Slave . . .271

XLII. Fort Smith and the Tug .... 276
The camp was like a country grave-
yard 276

XLIII. Fort McKay and Jiarobia .... 281

XLIV. The River 285

XLV. The River Shows Its Teeth ... 289

XLVI. Bright Again 296

XLVII. When Nature Smiled 301

XLVIII. The End 307

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

CHAPTER I
DEPARTURE FOR THE NORTH

In 1907 I set out to journey by canoe down the Atha-
baska and adjoining waters to the sole remaining
forest wilds — the far north-west of Canada — and the
yet more desert Arctic Plains, where still, it was said,
were to be seen the Caribou in their primitive condition.

My only companion was Edward A. Preble, of
Washington, D. C, a trained naturalist, an expert
canoeist and traveller, and a man of three seasons'
experience in the Hudson's Bay Territory and the
Mackenzie Valley. While nry chief object was to see
the Caribou, and prove their continued abundance, I
was prepared incidentally to gather natural-history
material of all kinds, and to complete the shore line
of the ambiguous lake called "Aylmer," as well as
explore its sister, the better-known Clinton-Colden.

I went for my own pleasure at my own expense, and
yet I could not persuade my Hudson's Bay Company
friends that I was not sent by some government, mu-
seum or society for some secret purpose.

On the night of May 5 we left Winnipeg, and our
observations began with the day at Brandon.

From that point westward to Regina we saw abun-
dant evidence that last year had been a "rabbit year,"
that is, a year in which the ever-fluctuating popula-

4 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

tion of Northern Hares (Snowshoe-rabbits or White-
rabbits) had reached its maximum, for nine-tenths of
the bushes in sight from the train had been barked at
the snow level. But the fact that we saw not one

Map showing the north limit of trees and of the successful culture
of potatoes, barley, and wheat

The dotted line from the Saskatchewan northward is my canoe-route

Rabbit shows that "the plague" had appeared, had
run its usual drastic course, and nearly exterminated
the species in this particular region.

Early next morning at Kininvie (40 miles west of
Medicine Hat, Alberta) we saw a band of 4 Antelope
south of the track; later we saw others all along as
far as Gleichen. All were south of the track. The
bands contained as follows: 4, 14, 18, 8, 12, 8, 4, 1, 4,
5, 4, 6, 4, 18, 2, 6, 34, 6, 3, 1, 10, 25, 16, 3, 7, 9 (almost
never 2, probably because this species does not pair),
or 232 Antelope in 26 bands along 70 miles of track;

DEPARTURE FOR THE NORTH 5

but all were on the south side; not one was noted
on the north.

The case is simple. During the past winter, while
the Antelope were gone southward, the Canadian
Pacific Railway Company had fenced its track. In
spring the migrants, returning, found themselves cut
off from their summer feeding-grounds by those im-
passable barb-wires, and so were gathered against the
barrier. One band of 8, at a stopping place, ran off
when they saw passengers alighting, but at half a mile
they turned, and again came up against the fence,
showing how strong is the northward impulse.

Unless they learn some way of mastering the diffi-
culty, it means extermination for the Antelope of the
north Saskatchewan.

From Calgary we went by train to Edmonton. This
is the point of leaving the railway, the beginning of
hard travel, and here we waited a few days to gather
together our various shipments of food and equipment,
and to await notice that the river was open.

In the north the grand event of the year is the open-
ing of the rivers. The day when the ice goes out is
the official first day of spring, the beginning of the
season; and is eagerly looked for, as every day's de-
lay means serious loss to the traders, whose men are
idle, but drawing pay as though at work.

On May 11, having learned that the Athabaska was
open, we left Edmonton in a livery rig. and drove 94
miles northward though a most promising, half-settled
country, and late the next day arrived at Athabaska
Landing, on the great east tributary of the Mackenzie,

G THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

whose waters were to bear us onward for so many
weeks.

Athabaska Landing is a typical frontier town.
These are hard words, but justified. We put up at
the principal hotel; the other lodgers told me it was
considered the worst hotel in the world. I thought I
knew of two worse, but next morning accepted the
prevailing view.

Our canoe and provisions arrived, but the great con-
voy of scows that were to take the annual supplies of
trade stuff for the far north was not ready, and we
needed the help and guidance of its men, so must
needs wait for four days.

This gave us the opportunity to study the local
natural history and do a little collecting, the results of
which appear later.

The great size of the timber here impressed me. I
measured a typical black poplar (P. balsamifera), 100
feet to the top, 8 feet 2 inches in circumference, at 18
inches from the ground, and I saw many thicker, but
none taller.

At the hotel, also awaiting the scows, was a body of
four (dis-)Mounted Police, bound like ourselves for the
far north. The officer in charge turned out to be an
old friend from Toronto, Major A. M. Jarvis. I also
met John Schott, the gigantic half-breed, who went
to the Barren Grounds with Caspar Whitney in 1895.
He seemed to have great respect for Whitney as a
tramper, and talked much of the trip, evidently having
forgotten his own shortcomings of the time. While I
sketched his portrait, he regaled me with memories of

3
5

DEPARTURE FOR THE NORTH 7

his early days on Red River, whore he was bum in 1841.
J did not fail to make what notes I could of those now
historic limes. His accounts of the Antelope on White
Horse Plain, in 1855, and Buffalo about the site of
Carberry, Manitoba, in 1852, were new and valuable
light on the ancient ranges of these passing creatures.

All travellers who had preceded me into the Barren
Grounds had relief! on the abundant game, and in
consequence suffered dreadful hardships; in some cases
even starved to death. I proposed to rely on no game,
but to take plenty of groceries, the best I could buy in
Winnipeg, which means the best in the world; and, as
will be seen later, the game, because I was not relying
on it, walked into camp even' da}'.

But one canoe could not cany all these provisions,
so mosl of it 1 shipped on the Hudson's Bay Company
scows, taking with us, in the canoe, food for not more
than a week, which with camp outfit was just enough
for ballast.

Of course T was in close touch with the Hudson's
Bay people. Although nominally that great trading
company parted with its autocratic power and exclu-
sive franchise in 1S70, it is still the sovereign of the
north. And here let me correct an error that is some-
times found even in respectable print — the Company
has at all times been ready to assist scientists to the
utmost of its very ample power.. Although jealous of
its trading rights, every one is free to enter the terri-
tory without taking count of the Company, but there
has not yet been a successful scientific expedition into
the region without it- active co-operation.

8 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

The Hudson's Bay Company has always been the
guardian angel of the north.

I suppose that there never yet was another purely
commercial concern that so fully realized the moral
obligations of its great power, or that has so uniformly
done its best for the people it ruled.

At all times it has stood for peace, and one hears
over and over again that such and such tribes were
deadly enemies, but the Company insisted on their
smoking the peace pipe. The Sioux and Ojibway,
Black-Foot and Assiniboine, Dog-Rib and Copper-
Knife, Beaver and Chipewyan, all offer historic illus-
trations in point, and many others could be found for
the list.

The name Peace River itself is the monument of a
successful effort on the part of the Company to bring
about a better understanding between the Crees and
the Beavers.

Besides human foes, the Company has saved the
Indian from famine and plague. Many a hunger-
stricken tribe owes its continued existence to the
fatherly care of the Company, not simply general and
indiscriminate, but minute and personal, carried into
the details of their lives. For instance, when bots so
pestered the Caribou of one region as to render their
hides useless to the natives, the Company brought in
hides from a district where they still were good.

The Chipewyans were each spring the victims of
snow-blindness until the Company brought and suc-
ceeded in popularizing their present ugly but effectual
and universal peaked hats. When their train-dogs

DEPARTURE FOR THE NORTH 9

were running down in physique, the Company brought
in a strain of pure Huskies or Eskimo. When the
Albany River Indians were starving and unable to
hunt, the Company gave the order for 5,000 lodge
poles. Then, not knowing how else to turn them to
account, commissioned the Indians to work them into
a picket garden-fence. At all times the native found
a father in the Company, and it was the worst thing
that ever happened the region when the irresponsible
free-traders with their demoralizing methods were
allowed to enter and traffic where or how they pleased.

Indian Pilot. May 19, 1907

CHAPTER II
DOWN THE NOISY RIVER WITH THE VOYAGEURS

At Athabaska Landing, on May 18, 1907, 10.15 a. m.,
we boarded the superb Peterborough canoe that I had
christened the Ann Seton. The Athabaska River was
a-flood and clear of ice; 13 scows of freight, with 60
half-breeds and Indians to man them, left at the same
time, and in spite of a strong headwind we drifted
northward fully 3| miles an hour.

The leading scow, where I spent some time, was in
charge of John MacDonald himself, and his passengers
comprised the Hudson's Ba}^ Company officials, going
to their posts or on tours of inspection. They were a
jolly crowd, like a lot of rollicking schoolboys, full of
fun and good-humour, chaffing and joking all day; but
when a question of business came up, the serious busi-
ness man appeared in each, and the Company's interest
was cared for with their best powers. The bottle was
not entirely absent in these scow fraternities, but I
saw no one the worse for liquor on the trip.

The men of mixed blood jabbered in French, Cree,
and Chipewyan chiefly, but when they wanted to
swear, they felt the inadequacy of these mellifluous or
lisping tongues, and fell back on virile Saxon, whose
tang, projectivity, and wealth of vile epithet evidently
supplied a long-felt want in the Great Lone Land of
the Dog and Canoe.

E. T. Seton and E. A. Preble leaving Athabaska Landing, May 17, 1!><>7

Down the Athabaska River

WITH THE VOYAGEURS 11

In the afternoon Preble and I pushed on in our boat,
far in advance of the brigade. As we made early
supper I received for the twentieth time a lesson in
photography. A cock Partridge or Ruffed Grouse
came and drummed on a log in open view, full sun-
light, fifty feet away. I went quietly to the place. He
walked off, but little alarmed. I set the camera eight
feel from the log, with twenty-five feet of tubing, and
retired to a good hiding-place. But alas! I put the
tube on the left-hand pump, not knowing that that
was a dummy. The Grouse came back in three min-
utes, drumming in a superb pose squarely in front of
the camera. I used the pump, but saw that it failed
to operate; on going forward the Grouse skimmed
away and returned no more. Preble said, "Never
mind; there will be another every hundred yards all
the way down the river, later on." I could only reply,
"The chance never comes but once," and so it proved.
We heard Grouse drumming many times afterward,
but the sun was low, or the places densely shaded, or
the mosquitoes made conditions impossible for silent
watching; the 'perfect chance came but once, as it
always does, and I lost it.

About twenty miles below the Landing we found the
abandoned winter hut of a trapper; on the roof were
the dried up bodies of 1 Skunk, 2 Foxes, and 30
Lynxes, besides the bones of 2 Moose, showing the
nature of the wild life about.

That night, as the river was brimming and safe, we
tied up to the scows and drifted, making 30 more
miles, or 60 since embarking.

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

In the early morning, I was much struck by the life-
lessness of the scene. The great river stretched away
northward, the hills rose abruptly from the water's
edge, everywhere extended the superb spruce forest,
here fortunately unburnt; but there seemed no sign of
living creature outside of our own numerous, noisy,

The Roll Call

and picturesque party. River, hills, and woods were
calm and silent. It was impressive, if disappointing;
and, when at last the fir stillness was broken by a
succession of trumpet notes from the Great Pileated
Woodpecker, the sound went rolling on and on, in
reverberating echoes that might well have alarmed
the bird himself.

The white spruce forest along the banks is most in-
spiring; magnificent here. Down the terraced slopes
and right to the water's edge on the alluvial soil it
stands in ranks. Each year, of course, the floods
undercut the banks, and more trees fall, to become at
last the flotsam of the shore a thousand miles away.

I found it was a dead house-cat; . . . under it was a huntrn looking Lynx

WITH THE VOYAGEURS 13

There is something sad about these stately trees,
densely packed, all a-row, unflinching, hopelessly
awaiting the onset of the inexorable, invincible river.
One group, somewhat isolated and formal, was a
forest life parallel to Lady Butler's famous "Roll Call
of the Grenadiers."

At night we reached the Indian village of Pelican
Portage, and landed by climbing over huge blocks of
ice that were piled along the shore. The adult male
inhabitants came down to our camp, so that the vil-
lage was deserted, except for the children and a few
women.

As I walked down the crooked trail along which
straggle the cabins, I sawT something white in a tree at
the far end. Supposing it to be a White-rabbit in a
snare, I went near and found, to my surprise, first that
it was a dead house-cat, a rare species here; second,
under it, eyeing it and me alternately, was a hungry-
looking Lynx. I had a camera, for it was near sun-
down, and in the woods, so I went back to the boat
and returned with a gun. There was the Lynx still
prowling, but now farther from the village. I do not
believe he would have harmed the children, but a
Lynx is game. I fired, and he fell without a quiver
or a sound. This was the first time I had used a gun
in many years, and was the only time on the trip. I
felt rather guilty, but the carcass was a godsend to two
old Indians who were sickening on a long diet of salt
pork, and that Lynx furnished them tender meat for
three days afterward: while its skin and skull went to
the American Museum.

14 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

On the night of May 20, we camped just above
Grand Rapids — Preble and I alone, for the first time,
under canvas, and glad indeed to get away from the
noisy rabble of the boatmen, though now they were
but a quarter mile off. At first I had found them
amusing and picturesque, but their man}' unpleasant
habits, their distinct aversion to strangers, their greedi-
ness to get all they could out of one, and do nothing in
return, combined finally with their habit of gambling
all night to the loud beating of a tin pan, made me
thankful to quit their company for a time.

At Grand Rapids the scows were unloaded, the
goods shipped over a quarter-mile hand tramway, on
an island, the scows taken down a side channel, one
by one, and reloaded. This meant a delay of three
or four days, during which we camped on the island
and gathered specimens.

Being the organizer, equipper, geographer, artist,
head, and tail of the expedition, I was, perforce, also
its doctor. Equipped with a "pill-kit," an abundance
of blisters and bandages and some "potent purgatives,"
I had prepared myself to render first and last aid to the
hurt in my own party. In taking instructions from our
family physician, I had learned the value of a profound
air of great gravity, a noble reticence, and a total ab-
sence of doubt, when I did speak. I compressed his
creed into a single phrase: "In case of doubt, look wise
and work on his 'bowels.' " This simple equipment soon
gave me a surprisingly high standing among the men.
I was a medicine man of repuie, and soon had a larger
practice than I desired, as it was entirely gratuitous.

Our camp above Grand Rapids, Athabaska River

Looking down the Athabaska River from the island in the Grand Rapids

WITH THE VOYAGEURS 15

The various boatmen, Indians and half-breeds, came
with their troubles, and, thanks chiefly to their faith,

wen- cured. Bu1 one day John .Mai Donald, the chief
pilot and a mighty man on the river, came to my tent
on Grand Island. John complained thai he couldn't
hold anything on his stomach; he was a total peristaltic
wreck indeed (my words; his were more simple and
more vivid, but less sonorous and professional). He
said he had been going down hill for two weeks, and
was so bad now that he was "no better than a couple
of ordinary men."

"Exactly id. "Now you take these pills and

you'll be all right in the morning." Next morning
John was back, and complained that my pills had no
effect : he wanted to feel something take hold of him.
Hadn't I any pepper-juice or brandy?

I do not take liquor on an expedition, but at the
last moment a Winnipeg friend had given me a pint
flask of pure brandy — "for emergencies." An emer-
gency had come. '

"John ! you shall have some extra fine brandy,
nicely thinned with pepper-juice." I poured half an
inch of brandy into a tin cup, then added half an inch
of "pain-killer."

"Here, take this, and if you don't feel it, it means
your insides are dead, and you may as well order your
coffin."

John took it at a gulp. His insides were not dead;
but I might have been, had I been one of his boatmen.

He doubled up, rolled around, and (lanced for five
minutes. He did not squeal — John never squeals — but

16 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

he suffered some, and an hour later announced that he
was about cured.

Next day he came to say he was all right, and would
soon again be as good as half a dozen men.

At this same camp in Grand Rapids another cure on
a much larger scale was added to my list. An Indian
had "the bones of his foot broken," crushed by a
heavy weight, and was badly crippled. He came lean-
ing on a friend's shoulder. His foot was blackened
and much swollen, but I soon satisfied myself that no
bones were broken, because he could wriggle all the
toes and move the foot in any direction.

"You'll be better in three days and all right in a
week," I said, with calm assurance. Then I began
with massage. It seemed necessary in the Indian en-
vironment to hum some tune, and I found that the
" Koochy-Koochy " lent itself best to the motion, so it
became my medicine song.

With many " Koochy-Koochy "-ings and much ice-
cold water he was nearly cured in three days, and
sound again in a week. But in the north folk have a
habit (not known elsewhere) of improving the inci-
dent. Very soon it was known all along the river that
the Indian's leg ivas broken, and I had set and healed
it in three days. In a year or two, I doubt not, it will
be his neck that was broken, not once, but in several
places.

Grand Island yielded a great many Deermice of the
arcticus form, a few Red-backed Voles, and any num-
ber of small birds migrant.

As we floated down the river the eye was continu-

WITH THE VOYAGEURS 17

ally held by tall and prominent spruce trees that had
been cut into peculiar forms as below. These were
known as "lob-sticks," or "lop-sticks," and are usu-
ally the monuments of some distinguished visitor in
the country or records of some heroic achievement.
Thus, one would be pointed out as Commissioner
Wrigley's lob-stick, another as John MacDonald's the
time he saved the scow.

The inauguration of a lob-stick is quite a ceremony.
Some person in camp has impressed all with his im-
portance or other claim to
notice. The men, having & <?/ **S
talked it over, announce
that they have decided on
giving him a lob-stick.

"Will he make choice Of Lob-6ticks, or trees trimmed as

monuments, along the river

some prominent tree m

view?" The visitor usually selects one back from the
water's edge, often on some far hilltop, the more
prominent the better; then an active young fellow is
sent up with an axe to trim the tree. The more
embellishment the higher the honor. On the trunk
they then inscribe the name of the stranger, and he is
supposed to give each of the men a plug of tobacco
and a drink of whiskey. Thus they celebrate the man
and his monument, and ever afterwards it is pointed
out as "So-and-so's lob-stick."

It was two months before my men judged that I was
entitled to a lob-stick. We were then on Great Slave
Lake where the timber was small but the best they
could get on a small island was chosen and trimmed

18 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

into a monument. They were disappointed however, to
find that I would by no means give whiskey to natives,
and my treat had to take a wholly different form.

Grand Rapids, with its multiplicity of perfectly
round pot-hole boulders, was passed in four days, and
then, again in company with the boats, we entered the
real canyon of the river.

Down Athabaska's boiling flood
Of seething, leaping, coiling mud.

CHAPTER III

HUMAN NATURE ON THE RIVER

Sunday morning, 26th of May, there was something
like a strike among the sixty half-breeds and Indians
thai composed the crews. They were strict Sabba-
tarians (when it suited them); they believed that they
should do no work, but give up the day to gambling
and drinking. Old John, the chief pilot, wished to
take advantage of the fine flood on the changing river,
and drift down at least to the head of the Boiler Rap-
ids, twenty miles away. The breeds maintained, with
many white swear words, for lack of strong talk in
Indian, thai they never yet knew Sunday work to end
in anything but disaster, and they sullenly scattered
among the trees, produced their cards, and proceeded
to gamble away their property, next year's pay, clothes,
families, anything, and otherwise show their respect
for the Lord's Day and defiance of old John MacDonald.
John made no reply to their arguments; he merely
boarded the cook's boat, and pushed off into the swift
stream with the cooks and all the grub. In five min-
utes the strikers were on the twelve big boats doing
their best to live up to orders. John said nothing, and
grinned at me only with his eyes.

The breeds took their defeat in good part after the
first minute, and their commander rose higher in their
respect.

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

At noon we camped above the Boiler Rapids. In
the evening I climbed the 400- or 500-foot hill behind
camp and sketched the canyon looking northward.
The spring birds were now beginning to arrive, but

^fc#,

Canyon of the Athabaska River, looking north

were said to be a month late this year. The ground
was everywhere marked with moose sign; prospects
were brightening.

The mania for killing that is seen in many white men
is evidently a relic of savagery, for all of these Indians
and half-breeds are full of it. Each carries a rifle, and
every living thing that appears on the banks or on the
water is fusilladed with Winchesters until it is dead or
out of sight. This explains why we see so little from
the scows. One should be at least a day ahead of
them to meet with wild life on the river.

This morning two Bears appeared on the high bank
— and there was the usual uproar and fusillading; so far
as could be learned without any effect, except the ex-
penditure of thirty or forty cartridges at five cents each.

Lobsticks or Monument Trees on the skyline, Athabaska River

Camp on the Great Slave River

HUMAN NATURE ON THE RIVER 23

On the 27th we came to the Cascade Rapids. The
first or Little Cascade has about two feet fall, the
second or Grand Cascade, a mile farther, is about a six
foot sheer drop. These are considered very difficult

Natural amphitheatre on Athabaska Canyon

to run, and the manner of doing it changes with every
change in season or water level.

We therefore went through an important ceremony,
always carried out in the same way. All 13 boats
were beached, the 13 pilots went ahead on the bank to
study the problem, they decided on the one safe place
and manner, then returned, and each of the 13 boats
was run over in 13 different places and manners.
They always do this. You are supposed to have run
the Cascades successfully if you cross them alive, but
to have failed if you drown. In this case all were
successful.

Below the Cascades I had a sample of Indian grati-
tude that set me thinking. My success with John

22 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

MacDonald and others had added the whole commu-
nity to my medical practice, for those who were not sick
thought they were. I cheerfully did my best for all,
and was supposed to be persona grata. Just below the
Cascade Rapids was a famous sucker pool, and after
we had camped three Indians came, saying that the
pool was full of suckers — would I lend them my canoe
to get some?

Away they went, and from afar I was horrified to
see them clubbing the fish with my beautiful thin-
bladed maple paddles. They returned with a boat
load of 3- and 4-pound Suckers (Catostomus) and 2
paddles broken. Each of their friends came and re-
ceived one or two fine fish, for there were plenty. I,
presumably part owner of the catch, since I owned the
boat, selected one small one for myself, whereupon the
Indian insolently demanded 25 cents for it; and these
were the men I had been freely doctoring for two weeks!
Not to speak of the loaned canoe and broken paddles!
Then did I say a few things to all and sundry — stinging,
biting things, ungainsayable and forcible things — and
took possession of all the fish that were left, so the In-
dians slunk off in sullen silence.

Gratitude seems an unknown feeling among these
folk; you may give presents and help and feed them
all you like, the moment you want a slight favour of
them they demand the uttermost cent. In attempt-
ing to analyse this I was confronted by the fact that
among themselves they are kind and hospitable, and
at length discovered that their attitude toward us is
founded on the ideas that all white men are very rich,

IIFMAN NATURE ON THE RIVER 23

that the Indian has made them so by allowing them
to come into this country, thai the Indian is very poor
because he never was properly compensated, and that
therefore all he can get out of said white man is much
less than the white man ewes him.

As we rounded a point one day a Lynx appeared
statuesque on a stranded cake of ice, a hundred yards
off, and gazed at the approaching boats. True to their
religion, the half-breeds seized their rifles, the bullets
whistled harmlessly about the ''Peeshoo" — whereupon
he turned and walked calmly up the slope, stopping to
look at each fresh volley, but finally waved his stumpy
tail and walked unharmed over the ridge. Distance
fifty yards.

On May 28 we reached Fort MacMurray.

Here I saw several interesting persons: Miss Chris-
tine Gordon, the postmaster; Joe Bird, a half-breed
with all the advanced ideas of a progressive white

man; and an American ex-patriot, G , a tall,

raw-boned Yank from Illinois. He was a typical
American of the kind that knows little of America
and nothing of Europe; but shrewd and successful in
spite of these limitations. In appearance he was not
unlike Abraham Lincoln. lie was a rabid American,
and why he stayed here was a question.
• He had had no detailed tidings from home forycars,
and I never saw a man more keen for the news. On
the banks of the river we sat for an hour while he plied
me with questions, which 1 answered so far as I could.
He hung on my lips: he interrupted only when there
seemed a halt in the stream; he revelled in all the de-

24 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

tails of wrecks by rail and sea. Roosevelt and the
trusts — insurance scandals — the lynchings in the South
— the burnings in the West — massacres — murders —
horrors — risings — these were his special gloats, and yet
he kept me going with "Yes — yes — and then?" or
"Yes, by golly — that's the way we're a-doing it. Go
on."

Then, after I had robbed New York of $100,000,000
a year, burnt 10 large towns and 45 small ones, wrecked
200 express trains, lynched 96 negroes in the South —
and murdered many men every night for 7 years in
Chicago — he broke out:

"By golly, we are a-doing it. We are the people.
We are a-moving things now; and I tell you I give
the worst of them there European countries, the very
worst of 'em, just 100 years to become Americanised."

Think of that, ye polished Frenchmen; ye refined,
courteous Swedes; ye civilised Danes; you have 100
years to become truly Americanised!

All down the river route we came on relics of another
class of wanderers — the Klondikers of 1898. Some-
times these were empty winter cabins; sometimes
curious tools left at Hudson's Bay Posts, and in some
cases expensive provisions; in all cases we heard weird
tales of their madness.

There is, I am told, a shanty on the Mackenzie above
Simpson, where four of them made a strange record.
Cooped up for months in tight winter quarters, they
soon quarrelled, and at length their partnership was
dissolved. Each took the articles he had contributed,
and those of common purchase they divided in four

The Hudson's Bay Company convoy descending the A.thabaska River

Grand Rapids, Athabaska River

HUMAN NATURE OX THE RIVER 25

equal parts. The stove, the canoe, the lamp, the
spade, were broken relentlessly and savagely into four
parts— four piles of useless rubbish. The shanty was

divided in four. One man had some candles of his own
1 >ringing. These he kept and carefully screened off his
corner of the room so no chance rays might reach the
Others to comfort them; they spent the winter in
darkness. None spoke to the other, and they parted,
singly and silently, hatefully as ever, as soon as the
springtime opened the way.

CHAPTER IV

DOWN THE SILENT RIVER WITH THE
MOUNTED POLICE

At Fort MacMurray we learned that there was no tell-
ing when the steamer might arrive; Major Jarvis was
under orders to proceed without delay to Smith Land-
ing; so to solve all our difficulties I bought a 30-foot
boat (sturgeon-head) of Joe Bird, and arranged to join
forces with the police for the next part of the journey.

I had made several unsuccessful attempts to get an
experienced native boatman to go northward with me.
All seemed to fear the intending plunge into the
unknown; so was agreeably surprised when a sturdy
young fellow of Scottish and Cree parentage came and
volunteered for the trip. A few inquiries proved him
to bear a good reputation as a river-man and worker,
so William C. Loutit was added to my expedition and
served me faithfully throughout.

In time I learned that Billy was a famous traveller.
Some years ago, when the flood had severed all com-
munication between Athabaska Landing and Edmon-
ton, Billy volunteered to carry some important des-
patches, and covered the 96 miles on foot in one and a
half days, although much of the road was under water.
On another occasion he went alone and afoot from
House River up the Athabaska to Calling River, and

WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE 27

across the Point to the Athabaska again, then up to

the Landing — 150 rough miles in four days. These
exploits I had to find out for myself later on, but
much more important to me at the time was the fact
thai he was a first-class cook, a steady, cheerful worker,
and a capable guide as far as Great Slave Lake.

The Athabaska below Fort MacMurray is a noble
stream, one-third of a mile wide, deep, steady, un-

Floating clown the Slave

marred; the banks are covered with unbroken virginal
forests of tall white poplar, balsam poplar, spruce, and
birch. The fire has done no damage here as yet, the
axe has left no trace, there are no houses, no sign of
man except occasional teepee poles. I could fancy
myself floating down the Ohio two hundred years ago.
These wrere bright days to be remembered, as we
drifted down its placid tide in our ample and com-
fortable boat, with abundance of good things. Calm,
lovely, spring weather; ducks all along the river; plenty
of food, which is the northerner's idea of bliss; plenty
of water, which is the river-man's notion of joy; plenty
of leisure, which is an element in mosl men's heaven,
for we had merely to float with the stream, three miles
an hour, except when we landed to eat or sleep.

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

The woods were donning their vernal green and re-
sounded with the calls of birds now. The mosquito
plague of the region had not yet appeared, and there
was little lacking to crown with a halo the memory of
those days on the Missouri of the North.

Native quadrupeds seemed scarce, and we were all
agog when one of the men saw a black fox trotting
along the opposite bank. However, it turned out to

H*H^&wtt*

Fort McKay

be one of the many stray dogs of the country. He
followed us a mile or more, stopping at times to leap
at fish that showed near the shore. When we landed
for lunch he swam the broad stream and hung about
at a distance. As this was twenty miles from any
settlement, he was doubtless hungry, so I left a boun-
tiful lunch for him, and when we moved away, he
claimed his own.

At Fort McKay I saw a little half-breed boy shoot-
ing with a bow and displaying extraordinary marks-
manship. At sixty feet he could hit the bottom of a
tomato tin nearly every time; and even more surpris-
ing was the fact that he held the arrow with what is
known as the Mediterranean hold. When, months
later, I again stopped at this place, I saw another boy

WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE 29

doing the very same. Some residents assured me thai
this was the style of all the Chipewyans as well as the

That night we camped far down the river and on the
side opposite the Fort, for experience soon teaches one
to give the dogs no chance of entering camp on ma-
rauding expeditions while you rest. About ten, as I
was going to sleep, Preble put his head in and said:
"Come out here if you want a new sensation."

In a moment I was standing with him under the tall
spruce trees, looking over the river to the dark forest,
a quarter mile away, and listening intently to a new
and wonderful sound. Like the slow tolling of a soft
but high-pitched bell, it came. Ting, ting, ting, ting,
and on, rising and falling with the breeze, but still
keeping on about two "tings" to the second, and on,
dulling as with distance, but rising again and again.

It was unlike anything I had ever heard, but Preble
knew it of old. "That," says he, "is the love-song of
the Richardson Owl. She is sitting demurely in some
spruce to}) while he sails around, singing on the wing,
and when the sound seems distant, he is on the far
side of the tree."

Ting, (ing, ling, ting, it went on and on, this soft
belling of his love, this amorous music of our northern
bell-bird.

Ting, ting, ting, ling, ting, ting, ting, ling, ting, ting,
ting, ting — oh, how could any lady owl resist such
strains? — and on, with its ting, ting, ting, ting, ting,
ting, ting, tixc, the whole night air was vibrant. Then,
as though by plan, a different note — the deep boom-

30 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

ing "Olio — oh — who — oh who hoo" of the Great Horned
Owl — was heard singing a most appropriate bass.

But the little Owl went on and on; 5 minutes, 10
minutes, 20 minutes at last had elapsed before I
turned in again and left him. More than once that
night I awoke to hear his "tinging" serenade upon the
consecrated air of the piney woods.

Yet Preble said this one was an indifferent performer.
On the Mackenzie he had heard far better singers of

Athabaska River looking north from Poplar Point

the kind; some that introduce many variations of the
pitch and modulation. I thought it one of the most
charming bird voices I had ever listened to — and felt
that this was one of the things that make the journey
worth while.

On June 1 the weather was so blustering and wet
that we did not break camp. I put in the day exam-
ining the superb timber of this bottom-land. White
spruce is the prevailing conifer and is here seen in per-
fection. A representative specimen was 118 feet high,
11 feet 2 inches in circumference, or 3 feet 6^ inches
in diameter 1 foot from the ground, i. e., above any
root spread. There was plenty of timber of similar
height. Black spruce, a smaller kind, and tamarack

■ ■■

»♦•»

Tin- 1 1 1 \ < • s c > 1 1 l;- (if tin- Richardson Owl

WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE 31

are found farther up and hack in the I>og country.
jackpine of fair size abounds on the sandy and gravelly
parts. Balsam poplar is the largesl deciduous tree; its
superb legions in upright ranks are crowded along all
the river banks and on the islands not occupied by the
spruce. The large trees of this kind often have deep
holes; these are the nesting sites of the Whistler Duck,
which is found in numbers here and as far north as
this tree, but not farther. White poplar is plentiful

Male Lynx. June a, 1907

also; the hillsides are beautifully clad with its pur-
plish masses of twigs, through which its white stems
gleam like marble columns. White birch is common
and large enough for canoes. Two or three species of
willow in impenetrable thickets make up the rest of
the forest stretches.

At this camp I had the unique experience of showing
all these seasoned Westerners thai it was possible to
make a fire by the friction of two sticks. This has long
been a specialty of mine; I use a thong and a bow as
the simplest way. Ordinarily 1 prefer balsam-fir or
tamarack; in this case I used a balsam block and a
spruce drill, and, although each kind failed when used

32 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

with drill and block the same, I got the fire in half a
minute.

On June 3 we left this camp of tall timber. As we
floated down we sighted a Lynx on the bank looking
contemplatively into the flood. One of the police boys
seized a gun and with a charge of No. 6 killed the
Lynx. Poor thing, it was in a starving condition, as
indeed are most meat-eaters this year in the north.
Though it was fully grown, it weighed but 15 pounds.

Poplar Point, Athabaska River, from north

In its stomach was part of a sparrow (white-throat?)
and a piece of rawhide an inch wide and 4 feet long,
evidently a portion of a dog-harness picked up some-
where along the river. I wonder what he did with
the bells.

That night we decided to drift, leaving one man on
guard. Next day, as we neared Lake Athabaska, the
shores got lower, and the spruce disappeared, giving
way to dense thickets of low willow. Here the long
expected steamer, Graham, passed, going upstream.
We now began to get occasional glimpses of Lake
Athabaska across uncertain marshes and sand bars.
It was very necessary to make Fort Chipewyan while
there was a calm, so we pushed on. After four hours'
groping among blind channels and mud banks, we
reached the lake at midnight — though of course there

Mouth of Peace River

WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE 33

was no night, but a sort of gloaming even at the
darkest — and it took us four hours' hard rowing to
cover the ten miles that separated us from Chipewyan.

It sounds very easy
and commonplace
when one says "hard
rowing," but it takes
on more significance
when one is reminded
that those oars were 18 feet long, 5 inches through
and weighed about 20 pounds each; the boat was 30
feet long, a demasted schooner indeed, and rowing her
through shallow muddy water, where the ground suc-
tion was excessive, made labour so heav}r that 15-
minute spells were all any one could do. We formed
four relays, and all worked in turn all night through,
arriving at Chipewyan 4 a. m., blistered, sore, and
completely tired out.

Fort Chipewyan (pronounced Chip-we-yan) was Billy

Loutit's home, and here we met his father, mother,

and numerous as well as interesting sisters. Mean-

^ while I called

Mm — t^feSSS^ a^ *ne R°man

Slave River. June 6, 1907 Catholic Mis-

sion, under
Bishop Gruard, and the rival establishment, under
Reverend Roberts, good men all, and devoted to the
cause, but loving not each other. The Hudson's Bay
Company, however, was here, as everywhere in the
north, the really important thing.
There was a long stretch of dead water before we

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Crow's Nest, Fort Smith Landing

could resume our downward drift, and, worse than that,

there was such a flood on the Peace River that it was

backing the Athabaska, that is, the tide of the latter was

reversed on the Rocher River,
which extends twenty-five
miles between here and Peace
mouth. To meet this, I
hired Colin Fraser's steamer.
We left Chipewyan at 6.15;
at 11.15 camped below the
Peace on Great Slave River,
and bade farewell to the
steamer.

The reader may well be
puzzled by these numerous

names; the fact is the Mackenzie, the Slave, the Peace,

the Rocher, and the Unchaga are all one and the same

river, but, unfortunate- ^«„^_

ly, the early explorers «>.-

thought proper to give . .,

it a new name each time

it did something, such

as expand into a lake.

By rights it should be

the Unchaga or Unjiza,

from the Rockies to the Arctic, with the Athabaska

as its principal southern tributary.

The next day another Lynx was collected. In its

stomach were remains of a Redsquirrel, a Chipmunk,

and a Bog-lemming. The last was important as it

made a new record.

Female Lynx. June 6, 1907

WITH THE MOUNTED POLICE

The Athabaska is a great river, the Peace is a greater,
and the Slave, formed by their union, is worthy of its
p:i rents. Its placid flood is here nearly a mile wide,
and its banks are covered with a great continuous forest
of spruce trees <>f tin* largest size. How far back this
extends I do not know, but the natives say the best
timber is along the river.

More than once a Lynx was seen trotting by or star-
ing at us from the bank, but no other large animal.

On the night of June 7 we reached Smith Landing.

CHAPTER V

A CONFERENCE WITH THE CHIEFS

A few bands of Buffalo are said to exist in the coun-
try east of Great Slave River. Among other matters,
Major Jarvis had to report on these, find out how many
were left, and exactly where they were. When he in-
vited me to join his expedition, with these questions
in view, I needed no pressing.

Our first business was to get guides, and now our
troubles began.

Through the traders we found four natives who
knew the Buffalo range — they were Kiya, Sousi, Kirma,
and Peter Squirrel. However, they seemed in no way
desirous of guiding any one into that country. They
dodged and delayed and secured many postponements,
but the Royal Mounted Police and the Hudson's Bay
Company are the two mighty powers of the land, so,
urged by an officer of each, these worthies sullenly
assembled to meet us in Sousi's cabin.

Sousi, by the way, is Chipewyan for Joseph, and this
man's name was Joseph Beaulieu. Other northern
travellers have warned all that came after them to be-
ware of the tribe of Beaulieu, so we were on guard.

Sullen silence greeted us as we entered; we could feel
their covert antagonism. Jarvis is one of those affable,
good-tempered individuals that most persons take for
"easy." In some ways he may be so, but I soon real-

A CONFERENCE WITH THE CHIEFS 37

feed that he was a keen judge of men and their ways,
and he whispered to me: "They mean to block us if
possible." Sousi understood French and had some
English, but the others professed ignorance of every-
thing but Chipewyan. So it was necessary to call in
an interpreter. How admirably he served us may be
judged from the following sample secured later.

Q. Are the Buffalo near?

A. Wah-hay-was-ki busquow Kai-ah taw nip-ee-wat-
chow-es-kee nee-moy-ah. Kee-as-o-win sug-ee-meesh
i-mush-wa mus-tat-e-muck ne-mow-ah pe-muk-te-ok ne-
moy-ah dane-tay-tay-ah.

Interpreter. He say "no."

Q. How long would it take to get them?

A. Ne-moy-ah mis-chay-to-ok Way-hay-o ay-ow-ok-i-
man-kah-mus-to-ok. Mis-ta-hay cha-gow-os-ki wah-hay-o
musk-ee-see-seepi. Mas-kootch e-goot-ah-i-ow mas-kootch
ne-moy-ah muk-e-boy sak-te-muk mas-kootch gahk-sin-
now ne-moy-ah gehk-kee-win-tay dam-foole-Inglis.

Interpreter. He say " don't know."

Q. Can you go with us as guide?

A. Kee-ya-ivah-lee nas-bah a-lash-tay ivah-lee-lee
lan-day. (Answer literally) "Yes, I could go if I
could leave the transport."

Interpreter's answer, "Mebby."

After a couple of hours of this bootless sort of thing
we had made no headway toward getting a guide, nor
could we get definite information about the Buffaloes
or the Wolves. Finally the meeting suffered a sort of
natural disintegration.

Next day we tried again, but again there were

38 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

technical difficulties, grown up like mushrooms over
night.

Kiya could not go or lend his horses, because it was
mostly Squirrel's country, and he was afraid Squirrel
would not like it. Squirrel could not go because it
would be indelicate of him to butt in after negotia-
tions had been opened with Kiya. Kirma was not
well. Sousi could not go because his wife was sick,
and it preyed on his mind so that he dare not trust
himself away from the settlement; at least, not with-
out much medicine to fortify him against rheumatism,
home-sickness, and sadness.

Next day Kiya sent word that he had business of
great moment, and could not meet us, but would see
that early in the morning Squirrel was notified to
come and do whatever we wished. In the morning
Squirrel also had disappeared, leaving word that he
had quite overlooked a most important engagement
to " portage some flour across the rapids," not that he
loved the tump line, but he had "promised," and to
keep his word was very precious to him.

Jarvis and I talked it over and reviewed the infor-
mation we had. At Ottawa it was reported that the
Wolves were killing the calves, so the Buffalo did not in-
crease. At Winnipeg the Wolves were so bad that they
killed yearlings; at Edmonton the cows were not safe.

At Chipewyan the Wolves, reinforced by large bands
from the Barren Grounds, were killing the young Buf-
falo, and later the cows and young bulls. At Smith's
Landing the Wolves had even tackled an old bull
whose head was found with the large bones. Horses

A CONFERENCE WITH THE CHIEFS 39

and dogs were now being devoured. Terrible battles

were taking place between the dark Wolves of Peace
River and the White Wolves of the Barrens for posses-
sion of the Buffalo grounds. Of course the Buffalo were
disappearing; about a hundred were all that were left.

But no one ever sees any of these terrible Wolves,
the few men who know that country have plenty of
pemmican, that is neither Moose nor Caribou, and the
Major briefly summed up the situation: "The Wolves
are indeed playing havoc with the Buffalo, and the
ravenous leaders of the pack are called Sousi, Kiya,
Kirma, and Squirrel."

Now of all the four, Sousi, being a Beaulieu and a
half-breed, had the worst reputation, but of all the
four he was the only one that had admitted a possi-
bility of guiding us, and was to be found on the fifth
morning. So his views were met, a substitute found
to watch his fishing -nets, groceries to keep his wife
from pining during his absence, a present for himself,
the regular rate of wages doubled, his horses hired,
his rheumatism, home-sickness, and sadness provided
against, a present of tobacco, some more presents, a
promise of reward for every Buffalo shown, then an-
other present, and we set out.

Rake. Smith Landing, June 12,

1907. Typical of agriculture

on Great Slave River

CHAPTER VI

OUT WITH SOUSI BEAULIEU

It's a fine thing to get started, however late in the day,
and though it was 3.20 p. m. before everything was
ready, we gladly set out — Sousi, Major Jarvis, and my-
self— all mounted, the native leading a pack-horse with
provisions.

And now we had a chance to study our guide. A
man's real history begins, of course, about twenty
years before he is born. In the middle of the last
century was a notorious old ruffian named Beaulieu.
Montreal was too slow for him, so he invaded the
north-west with a chosen crew of congenial spirits.
His history can be got from any old resident of the
north-west. I should not like to write it as it was
told to me.

His alleged offspring are everywhere in the country,
and most travellers on their return from this region,
sound a note of warning: "Look out for every one of
the name of Beaulieu. They are a queer lot." And now
we had committed ourselves and our fortunes into the
hands of Beaulieu 's second or twenty-second son — I
could not make sure which. He is a typical half-breed,
of medium height, thin, swarthy, and very active,
although he must be far past 60. Just how far is not

OUT WITH SOUSI BEAULIEU

known, whether 59 69 or 79, he himself seemed un-
certain, but he knows there is a 9 in it. The women
of Smith's Landing say 59, the men say 7(.» or 89.

He is clad in what might be the cast-off garments
of a white tramp, except for his beaded moccasins.
However sordid these people may be in oilier parts
of their attire, I note that they always have some
redeeming touch of color and beauty about the moc-

■••' rv-i^Vp ffin

Camp on Salt River. June 13, 1907

casins which cover their truly shapely feet. Sousi's
rifle, a Winchester, also was clad in a native mode.
An embroidered cover of moose leather protected it
night and day, except when actually in use; of his
weapons he took most scrupulous care. Unlike the
founder of the family, Sousi has no children of his own.
But he has reared a dozen waifs under prompting of
his own kind heart. Ur is quite a character— does not
drink or smoke, and I never heard him swear. This
is not because he does not know how, for he is con-
versant with the vigor of all the five languages of the
country, and the garment of his thought is like Joseph's
coat. Ethnologically speaking, its breadth and sub-

42 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

stance are French, but it bears patches of English, with
flowers and frills, strophes, and classical allusions of
Cree and Chipewyan — the last being the language of
his present "home circle."

There was one more peculiarity of our guide that
struck me forcibly. He was forever considering his
horse. Whenever the trail was very bad, and half of
it was, Sousi dismounted and walked — the horse usu-
ally following freely, for the pair were close friends.

This, then, was the dark villain against whom we
had been warned. How he lived up to his reputation
will be seen later.

After four hours' march through a level, swampy
country, forested with black and white spruce, black
and white poplar, birch, willow, and tamarack, we came
to Salt River, a clear, beautiful stream, but of weak,
salty brine.

Not far away in the woods was a sweet spring, and
here we camped for the night. Close by, on a place re-
cently burnt over, I found the nest of a Green-winged
Teal. All cover was gone and the nest much singed,
but the down had protected the 10 eggs. The old one
fluttered off, played lame, and tried to lead me away.
I covered up the eggs and an hour later found she had
returned and resumed her post.

That night, as I sat by the fire musing, I went over
my life when I was a boy in Manitoba, just too late to
see the Buffalo, recalling how I used to lie in some old
Buffalo wallow and peer out over the prairie through
the fringe of spring anemones and long to see the big
brown forms on the plains. Once in those days I got

OUT WITH SOUSI BEAULIEU 43

a sensation, for I did see them. They turned out to
be a herd of common cattle, but still I got the thrill.

Now I was on a real Buffalo hunt, some twenty-five
years too late. Will it come? Am I really to see the
Wild Buffalo on its native plains? It is too good to
be true; too much like tipping back the sands of time.

Anemones. June 15, 1907

CHAPTER VII

THE BUFFALO HUNT

We left camp on Salt River at 7.45 in the morning
and travelled till 11 o'clock, covering six miles. It
was all through the same level country, in which wil-
low swamps alternated with poplar and spruce ridges.
At 11 it began to rain, so we camped on a slope under
some fine, big white spruces till it cleared, and then con-
tinued westward. The country now undulated some-
what and was varied with openings.

Sousi says that when first he saw this region, 30
years ago, it was all open prairie, with timber only in
hollows and about water. This is borne out by the
facts that all the large trees are in such places, and
that all the level open stretches are covered with sap-
ling growths of aspen and fir. This will make a
glorious settlement some day. In plants, trees, birds,
soil, climate, and apparently all conditions, it is like
Manitoba.

We found the skeleton of a cow Buffalo, apparently
devoured by Wolves years ago, because all the big
bones were there and the skull unbroken.

About two in the afternoon we came up a 200-foot
rise to a beautiful upland country, in which the forests
were diversified with open glades, and which every-
where showed a most singular feature. The ground is

Bear-claw marks mi tree

THE BUFFALO HUNT 45

pitted all over with funnel-shaped holes, from G to 40
feet deep, and of equal width across the rim; none of
them contained water. I saw one 100 feet across and
about 50 feet deep; some expose limestone; in one
place we saw granite.

At first T took these for extinct geysers, but later I
learned that the whole plateau called Salt Mountain is
pitted over with them. Brine is running out of the
mountain in great quantities, which means that the
upper strata are being undermined as the salt washes
out, and, as these crack, the funnels are formed no
doubt by the loose deposits settling.

In the dry woods Bear tracks became extremely
numerous; the whole country, indeed, was marked with
the various signs. Practically even- big tree has bear-
claw markings on it, and every few }Tards there is evi-
dence that the diet of the bears just now is chiefly
berries of Uva ursi.

As we rode along Sousi prattled cheerfully in his
various tongues; but his steady flow of conversation
abruptly ended when, about 2 p. m., we came suddenly
on sonic Buffalo tracks, days old, but still Buffalo
tracks. All at once and completely he was the hunter.
Ife leaped from his horse and led away like a hound.

Ere long, of course, the trail was crossed by two
fresher ones; then we found some dry wallows and
ral very fresh tracks. We tied up the horses in an
old funnel pit and set about an elaborate hunt. Jarvis
minded the stock, I set out with Sousi, after he had
tried the wind by tossing up some grass. But he
stopped, drew a finger-nail sharply across my canvas

46 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

coat, so that it gave a little shriek, and said "Va pa/'
which is "Cela ne va pas" reduced to its bony frame-
work. I doffed the offending coat and we went for-
ward as shown on the map. The horses were left at
A; the wind was east. First we circled a little to east-
ward, tossing grass at intervals, but, finding plenty of
new sign, went northerly and westward till most of the

x x x x course taken when I got lost. At F I turned

back to the lake, s s s shows Sousi 's course

when stalking the Buffalo

new sign was east of us. Sousi then led for C, telling
me to step in his tracks and make no noise. I did so
for long, but at length a stick cracked under my foot ;
he turned and looked reproachfully at me. Then a
stick cracked under his foot; I gave him a poke in the
ribs. When we got to the land between the lakes
at D, Sousi pointed and said, "They are here." We
sneaked with the utmost caution that way — it was im-
possible to follow any one trail — and in 200 yards Sousi
sank to the ground gasping out, "La! la! maintenon
faites son portrait au tant que vous voudrez." I

THE BUFFALO HUNT

crawled forward and saw, not one, but half a dozen
Buffalo. "I must be nearer," I said, and, lying flat on
my breast, crawled, toes and elbows, up to a bush
within 75 yards, where I made shot No. 1, and saw
here that there were 8 or 9 Buffalo, one an immense
bull.

Sousi now cocked his rifle — I said emphatically:
"Stop! you must not fire." "No?" he said in aston-

J*~u. c*^ Un****.

.«

Tracks of Buffalo

ished tones that were full of story and comment.
"What did we come for?" Now I saw that by back-
ing out and crawling to another bunch of herbage I
could get within 50 yards.

"It is not possible," he gasped.

"Watch me and see," I replied. Gathering all the
near vines and twisting them around my neck, I cov-
ered my head with leaves and creeping plants, then
proceeded to show that it was possible, while Sousi
followed. I reached the cover and found it was a bed

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

of spring anemones on the far side of an old Buffalo
wallow, and there in that wallow I lay for a moment
revelling in the sight. All at once it came to me:
Now, indeed, was fulfilled the long-deferred dream of
my youth, for in shelter of those flowers of my youth, I
was gazing on a herd of wild Buffalo. Then slowly I
rose above the cover and took my second picture.

The Buffalo herd

But the watchful creatures, more shy than Moose here,
saw the rising mass of herbage, or may have caught
the wind, rose lightly and went off. I noticed now, for
the first time, a little red calf; ten Buffalo in all I
counted. Sousi, standing up, counted 13. At the
edge of the woods they stopped and looked around,
but gave no third shot for the camera.

I shook Sousi's hand with all my heart, and he, good
old fellow, said: "Ah! it was for this I prayed last

THE BUFFALO HUNT 49

night; without doubt il was in answer to my prayer
that the Good God has sent me this great happiness."

Thru back at camp, 200 yards away, the old man's
tongue was loosed, and he told me how the chiefs in
conference, and every one at the Fort, had ridiculed
him and his Englishmen — "who thought they could
walk up to Buffalo and take their pictures."

We had not been long in camp when Sousi went off
to get some water, but at onee came running back,
shouting excitedly, "My rifle, my rifle!" Jarvis
handed it to him; he rushed off to the woods. I fol-
lowed in time to see him shoot an old Bear and two
cubs out of a tree. She fell, sobbing like a human
being, "Oh! Oh! Oh-h-h-h!" It was too late to stop
him, and he finished her as she lay helpless. The little
ones were too small to live alone, so shared her fate.

It seems, as Sousi wTent to the water hole, he came
on an old Bear and her two cubs. She gave a warning
"koff, koff." The only enemies they knew about and
feared, were Buffalo, Moose, and Wolves; from these a
tree was a safe haven. The cubs scrambled up a tall
poplar, then the mother followed. Sousi came shouting
in apparent fear; I rushed to the place, thinking he
was attacked by something, perhaps a Buffalo bull,
but too late to stop the tragedy that followed.

That night he roasted one of the cubs, and as I
watched the old cannibal chewing the hands off that
little baby Bear it gave me a feeling of disgust for all
flesh-eating that lasted for days. Major Jarvis felt
much as I did, and old Sousi had exclusive joy in all
his bear meat.

50 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Next morning I was left at camp while Jarvis and
Sousi went off to seek for more Buffalo. I had a pre-
sentiment that they would find none, so kept the
camera and went off to the Lake a mile west, and there
made drawings of some tracks, took photos, etc., and
on the lake saw about twenty-five pairs of ducks,
identified Whitewinged Scoter, Pintail, Green-winged
Teal, and Loon. I also watched the manoeuvres of a
courting Peetweet. He approached the only lady with

mXrJ

Tracks of the Blackbear

ft..

his feathers up and his wings raised ; she paid no heed
(apparently), but I noticed that when he flew away
she followed. I saw a large garter snake striped black
and green, and with 2 rows of red spots, one on each
side. It was very fat and sluggish. I took it for a
female about to lay. Later I learned from Sousi and
others that this snake is quite common here, and the
only kind found, but in the mountains that lie not far
away in the west is another kind, much thicker, fatter,
and more sluggish. Its bite is fearfully poisonous,
often fatal; "but the Good God has marked the beast
by putting a cloche (bell) in its tail."

About 10 I turned camp ward, but after tramping
for nearly an hour I was not only not at home, I was in
a totally strange kind of country, covered with a con-

THE BUFFALO HUNT 51

tinuous poplar woods. I changed my course and tried
a different direction, but soon was forced to the con-
clusion that (for the sixth or seventh time in my life)
I was lost.

"Dear me," T said, "this is an interesting oppor-
tunity. It comes to me now that I once wrote an
essay on 'What To Do and What Not To Do When
Lost In the Woods.' Now what in the world did I say
in it. and which were the things not to do. Yes, I re-
member now, these were the pieces of advice:

"1st. 'Don't get frightened.' Well, I'm not; I am
simply amused.

"2d. 'Wait for your friends to come.' Can't do
that; I'm too busy; they wouldn't appear till night.

"3d. 'If you must travel, go back to a place where
you were sure of the way.' That means back to the
lake, which I know is due west of the camp and must
be west of me now."

So back I went, carefully watching the sun for guid-
ance, and soon realised that whenever I did not, I swung
to the left. After nearly an hour's diligent travel I did
get back to the lake, and followed my own track in the
margin to the point of leaving it; then, with a careful
corrected bearing, made for camp and arrived in 40
minutes, there to learn that on the first attempt I had
swung so far to the left that I had missed camp by
half a mile, and was half a mile beyond it before I knew
I was wrong. (See map on p. 46.)

At noon Jarvis and Sousi came back jubilant; they
had seen countless Buffalo trails, had followed a large
bull and cow, but had left them to take the trail of a

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

considerable Band; these they discovered in a lake.
There were 4 big bulls, 4 little calves, 1 yearling, 3
2-year-olds, 8 cows. These allowed them to come
openly within 60 yards. Then took alarm and gal-
loped off. They also saw a Moose and a Marten — and

,*">tififa.

Buffalo dry wallows for the relief from flies

2 Buffalo skeletons. How I did curse my presenti-
ment that prevented them having the camera and
securing a really fine photograph!

At 2 p. m. Sousi prepared to break camp. He
thought that by going back on our trail he might
strike the trail of another herd off to the south-east
of the mountain. Jarvis shrewdly suspected that our
guide wanted to go home, having kept his promise,
won the reward, and got a load of Bear meat. How-

THE BUFFALO BUNT

ever, the native was the guide, we set out in a shower
which continued more or less all day and into the
night, SO we camped in the rain.

Next day it was obvious, and Sousi no longer con-
cealed the fact, that he was making for home as fast as
he could go.

At Salt River I found the little Teal hack on her
eggs in the burnt ground. At 3.30 we reached Smith
Landing, having been absent exactly 3 days, and hav-
ing seen in that time 33 Buffalo, 4 of them calves of
this year, 3 old Buffalo skeletons of ancient date, but
not a track or sign of a Wolf, not a howl by night, or
any evidence of their recent presence, for the buffalo
skeletons found were obviously very old.

And our guide — the wicked one of evil ancestry and
fame — he was kind, cheerful, and courteous through-
out; he did exactly as he promised, did it on time, and
was well pleased with the pay we gave him. Speak as
you find. If ever I revisit that country I shall be glad
indeed to secure the services of good old Sousi, even
if he is a Beaulieu.

CHAPTER VIII

THOMAS ANDERSON

We were now back at Smith Landing, and fired with
a desire to make another Buffalo expedition on which
we should have ampler time and cover more than a
mere corner of the range. We aimed, indeed, to strike
straight into the heart of the Buffalo country. The
same trouble about guides arose. In this case it was
less acute, because Sousi's account had inspired con-
siderably more respect. Still it meant days of delay
which, however, I aimed to make profitable by inves-
tigations near at hand.

After all, the most interesting of creatures is the
two-legged one with the loose and changeable skin,
and there was a goodly colony of the kind to choose
from. Most prominent of them all was Thomas
Anderson, the genial Hudson's Bay Company officer
in charge of the Mackenzie River District. His head-
quarters are at Fort Smith, 16 miles down the river,
but his present abode was Smith Landing, where all
goods are landed for overland transport to avoid the
long and dangerous navigation on the next 16 miles of
the broad stream. Like most of his official brethren,
he is a Scotchman ; he was born in Nairn, Scotland, in
1848. At 19 he came to the north-west in service of

THOMAS ANDERSON 55

the company, and his long and adventurous life, as he
climbed to hie present responsible position, may be
thus skeletonised:

He spent six months at Fort Temiscamingue,
1 year at Grand Lac,
3 years at Kakabonga,

5 years at Hunter's Lodge, Chippeway,
10 years at Abitibi,

3 years at Dunvegan, Peace River,

1 year at Lesser Slave Lake,

2 months at Savanne, Fort William,
10 years at Nipigon House,

3 years at Isle a la Crosse,

4 years on the Mackenzie River, chiefly at Fort
Simpson,

6 months at Fort Smith.

Which tells little to the ears of the big world, but if
we Bay that he spent 5 years in Berlin, then was moved
for 3 years to Gibraltar, 2 years to various posts on the
Rhine, whence he went for 4 years to St. Petersburg;
thence to relieve the officer in charge of Constantinople,
and made several flying visits to Bombay and Pekin,
we shall have some idea of his travels, for all were afoot,
on dogsled, or by canoe.

What wonderful opportunities he had to learn new
facts about the wood folk — man and beast — and how
little he knew the value of the glimpses that he got!
I made it my business to gather all I could of his
memories, so far as they dwelt with the things of
my world, and offer now a resume of his more in-

56 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

teresting observations on hunter and hunted of the
North.1

The following are among the interesting animal
notes :

Cougar. Ogushen, the Indian trapper at Lac des
Quinze, found tracks of a large cat at that place in the
fall of 1879 (?). He saw them all winter on South Bay
of that Lake. One day he came on the place where
it had killed a Caribou. When he came back about
March he saw it. It came toward him. It was evi-
dently a cat longer than a Lynx and it had a very
long tail, which swayed from side to side as it walked.
He shot it dead, but feared to go near it believing it
to be a Wendigo. It had a very bad smell. Ander-
son took it to be a Puma. It was unknown to the
Indian. Ogushen was a first-class hunter and Ander-
son firmly believes he was telling the truth. Lac des
Quinze is 15 miles north of Lake Temiscamingue.

Seals. In old days, he says, small seals were found
in Lake Ashkeek. This is 50 miles north-east from
Temiscamingue. It empties into Kippewa River, which
empties into Temiscamingue. He never saw one, but
the Indians of the vicinity told of it as a thing which
commonly happened 50 or 60 years ago. Ashkeek
is Ojibwa for seal. It is supposed that they wintered
in the open water about the Rapids.

White Foxes, he says, were often taken at Cree Lake.
Indeed one or two were captured each year. Cree
Lake is 190 miles south-east of Fort Chipewyan. They

1 Since these notes were made, Thomas Anderson has "crossed the
long portage."

THOMAS ANDERSON 57

are also taken al Fort Chipewyaii from time to time.

One was taken al Fondulac, cast end of Lake Atha-

baska, and was traded at Smith Landing in 1906.

They are found regularly at Fondlllac, the east end of
Great Slave Lake, each year.

In the winter of 1885-6 he was to be in charge of
Nipigon House, but got orders beforehand to visit the
posts on Albany 1 liver. He set out from Fort William
on Lake Superior on his 1,200-mile trip through the
snow with an Indian whose name was Joe Eskimo, from
Manitoulin Island, 400 miles away. At Nipigon House
he got another guide, but this one was in bad shape1,
spitting blood. After three days' travel the guide
said: "I will go to the end if it kills me, because I
have promised, unless 1 can get you a better guide.
At Wayabimika (Lake Savanne) is an old man named
Omeegi; he knows the road better than I do." When
they got there, Omeegi, although very old and half-
blind, was willing to go on condition that they should
not walk too fast. Then they started for Osnaburgh
House on Lake St. Joseph, 1">0 miles away. The old
man led off well, evidently knew the way, but some-
times would stop, cover his eyes with his hands, look
at the ground and then at the sky, and turn on a sharp
angle. He proved a fine guide and brought the ex-
pedition there in good time.

Next winter at Wayabimika (where Charley de la
Ronde ' was in charge, but was leaving on a trip of 10
days) Omeegi came in and asked for a present — "a
new shirt and a pair of pants." This is the usual

1 ( mint il<¥ La Ronde.

58 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

outfit for a corpse. He explained that he was to die
before Charley came back; that he would die "when
the sun rose at that island" (a week ahead). He got
the clothes, though every one laughed at him. A week
later he put on the new garments and said: "To-day I
die when the sun is over that island!" He went out,
looking at the sun from time to time, placidly smoking.
When the sun got to the right place he came in, lay
down by the fire, and in a few minutes was dead.

We buried him in the ground, to his brother's
great indignation when he heard of it. He said:
"You white men live on things that come out of the
ground, and are buried in the ground, and properly,
but we Indians live on things that run above ground,
and want to take our last sleep in the trees."

Another case of Indian clairvo}Tance ran thus : About
1879, when Anderson was at Abitibi, the winter packet
used to leave Montreal, January 2, each year, and
arrive at Abitibi January 19. This year it did not
come. The men were much bothered as all plans were
upset. After waiting about two weeks, some of the
Indians and half-breeds advised Anderson to consult
the conjuring woman, Mash-kou-tay Ish-quay (Prairie
woman, a Flathead from Stuart Lake, B. C). He went
and paid her some tobacco. She drummed and con-
jured all night. She came in the morning and told
him: "The packet is at the foot of a rapid now, where
there is open water; the snow is deep and the trav-
elling heavy, but it will be here to-morrow when the
sun is at that point."

Sure enough, it all fell out as she had told. This

THOMAS ANDERSON 59

woman married a Hudson's Bay man named Mac-
Donald, and he brought her to Lachine, where she
bore him 3 sons; then he died of small-pox, and Sir
George Simpson gave orders that she should be sent
up to Abitibi and there pensioned for as long as she
lived. She was about 75 at the time of the incident.
She many times gave evidence of clairvoyant power.
The priest said he "knew about it, and that she was
helped by the devil."

A gruesome picture of Indian life is given in the
following incident.

One winter, 40 or 50 years ago, a band of Algonquin
Indians at Wayabimika all starved to death except one
squaw and her baby; she fled from the camp, carry-
ing the child, thinking to find friends and help at
Nipigon House. She got as far as a small lake near Deer
Lake, and there discovered a cache, probably in a tree.
This contained one small bone fish-hook. She rigged
up a line, but had no bait. The wailing of the baby
spurred her to action. No bait, but she had a knife;
a strip of flesh was quickly cut from her own leg, a
hole made through the ice, and a fine jack-fish was
the food that was sent to this devoted mother. She
divided it with the child, saving only enougli for bait.
She stayed there living on fish until spring, then safely
rejoined her people.

The boy grew up to be a strong man, but was cruel
to his mother, leaving her finally to die of starvation.
Anderson knew the woman; she showed him the scar
where she cut the bait.

A piece of yet more ancient history was supplied
him in Northern Ontario, and related to me thus:

60 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Anderson was going to Kakabonga in June, 1879,
and camped one night on the east side of Birch Lake
on the Ottawa, about 50 miles north-east of Grand
Lake Post.

He and his outfit of two canoes met Pah-pah-tay,
chief of the Grand Lake Indians, travelling with his
family. He called Anderson's attention to the shape
of the point which had one good landing-place, a little
sandy bay, and told him the story he heard from his
people of a battle that was fought there with the
Iroquois long, long ago.

Four or five Iroquois war-canoes, filled with warriors,
came to this place on a foray for scalps. Their canoes
were drawn up on the beach at night. They lighted
fires and had a war-dance. Three Grand Lake Algon-
quins, forefathers of Pah-pah-tay, saw the dance from
hiding. They cached their canoe, one of them took a
sharp flint — "we had no knives or axes then" — swam
across to the canoes, and cut a great hole in the bottom
of each.

The three then posted themselves at three different
points in the bushes, and began whooping in as many
different ways as possible. The Iroquois, thinking it
a great war-party, rushed to their canoes and pushed
off quickly. When they were in deep water the canoes
sank and, as the warriors swam back ashore, the
Algonquins killed them one by one, saving alive only
one, whom they maltreated, and then let go with a
supply of food, as a messenger to his people, and to
carry the warning that this would be the fate of every
Iroquois that entered the Algonquin country.

CHAPTER IX

MOSQUITOES

Reference to my Smith Landing Journal for June 17
shows the following:

"The Spring is now on in full flood, the grass is
high, the trees are fully leaved, flowers are blooming,
birds arc nesting, and the mosquitoes are a terror to
man and beast."

If I were; to repeat all the entries in that last key, it
would make dreary and painful reading; I shall rather
say the worst right now, and henceforth avoid the

subject.

Every traveller in the country agrees that the mos-
quitoes are a frightful curse. Captain Back, in 1833
(Journal, p. 117), said that the sand-flies and mos-
quitoes are the worst of the hardships to which the
northern traveller is exposed.

T. Hut chins, over a hundred years ago, said that no
one enters the Barren Grounds in the summer, because
no man can stand the stinging insects. I had read
these various statements, but did not grasp the idea
until I was among them. At Smith Landing, June 7,
mosquitoes began to be troublesome, quite as numer-
ous as in the worst part of the New Jersey marshes.
An estimate of those on the mosquito bar over my bed,
showed 000 to 1 ,000 t rying to get at me; day and night,
without change, the air was ringing with their hum.

62 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

This was early in the season. On July 9, on Nyarling
River, they were much worse, and my entry was as
follows :

"On the back of Billy's coat, as he sat paddling
before me, I counted a round 400 mosquitoes boring
away; about as many were on the garments of his
head and neck, a much less number on his arms and
legs. The air about was thick with them; at least as
many more, fully 1,000, singing and stinging and filling
the air with a droning hum. The rest of us were
equally pestered.

"The Major, fresh, ruddy, full-blooded, far over 200
pounds in plumpness, is the best feeding ground for
mosquitoes I (or they, probably) ever saw; he must
be a great improvement on the smoke-dried Indians.
No matter where they land on him they strike it rich,
and at all times a dozen or more bloated bloodsuckers
may be seen hanging like red currants on his face and
neck. He maintains that they do not bother him, and
scoffs at me for wearing a net. They certainly do not
impair his health, good looks, or his perennial good-
humour, and I, for one, am thankful that his superior
food-quality gives us a corresponding measure of
immunity."

At Salt River one e^uld kill 100 with a stroke of the
palm, and at times they obscured the colour of the
horses. A little later they were much worse. On 6
square inches of my tent I counted 30 mosquitoes, and
the whole surface was similarly supplied; that is, there
were 24,000 on the tent and apparently as many
more flying about the door. Most of those that bite

MOSQUITOES 63

us are killed, but that makes not the slightest percep-
tible difference in their manners or numbers. They
reminded me of the Klondike gold-seekers. Thousands
go; great numbers must die a miserable death; not
more than one in 10,000 can gel away with a load of
the coveted stuff, and yet each believes that he is to
be that one, and pushes on.

Dr. L. 0. Howard tells us that the mosquito rarely
goes far from its birthplace. That must refer to the
miserable degenerates they have in New Jersey, for
these of the north offer endless evidence of power to
travel, as well as to resist cold and wind.

On July 21, 1907, we camped on a small island on
Great Slave Lake. It was about one-quarter mile
long, several miles from mainland, at least half a mile
from any other island, apparently all rock, and yet it
was swarming with mosquitoes. Here, as elsewhere,
they were mad for our blood; those we knocked off
and maimed, would crawl up with sprained wings and
twisted legs to sting as fiercely as ever, as long as the
beak would work.

We thought the stinging pests of the Buffalo country
as bad as possible, but they proved mild and scarce
compared with those we yet had to meet on the Arctic
Barrens of our ultimate goal.

Each day they got worse; soon it became clear that
mere adjectives could not convey any idea of their
terrors. Therefore I devised a mosquito gauge. I
held up a bare hand for 5 seconds by the watch, then
counted the number of borers on the back; there were
5 to 10. Each day added to the number, and when

64 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

we got out to the Buffalo country, there were 15 to 25
on the one side of the hand and elsewhere in proportion.
On the Nyarling, in early July, the number was in-
creased, being now 20 to 40. On Great Slave Lake,
later that month, there were 50 to 60. But when we
reached the Barren Grounds, the land of open breezy
plains and cold water lakes, the pests were so bad that
the hand held up for 5 seconds often showed from 100
to 125 long-billed mosquitoes boring away into the
flesh. It was possible to number them only by killing
them and counting the corpses. What wonder that
all men should avoid the open plains, that are the
kingdom of such a scourge.

Yet it must not be thought that the whole country
is similarly and evenly filled. There can be no doubt
that they flock and fly to the big moving creatures they
see or smell. Maybe we had gathered the whole mos-
quito product of many acres. This is shown by the
facts that if one rushes through thick bushes for a dis-
tance, into a clear space, the mosquitoes seem absent
at first. One must wait a minute or so to gather up
another legion. When landing from a boat on the
Northern Lakes there are comparatively few, but even
in a high wind, a walk to the nearest hilltop results in
one again moving in a cloud of tormentors. Does not
this readiness to assemble at a bait suggest a possible
means of destroying them?

Every one, even the seasoned natives, agree that they
are a terror to man au h beast ; but, thanks to our fly-
proof tents, we sleep immune. During the day I wear
my net and gloves, uncomfortably hot, but a blessed

MOSQUITOES 65

relief from the torment. It is easy to get used to
those coverings; it is impossible to get used to the
mosquitoes.

For July 10 I find this note: "The Mosquitoes are
worse now than ever before; even Jams, Treble, and
the Indians are wearing face protectors of some kind.
The Major has borrowed Preble's closed net, much to
the hitler's discomfiture, as he himself would be glad
to wear it."

This country has, for 6 months, the finest climate
in the world, but 2\ of these are ruined by the ma-
lignancy of the fly plague. Yet it is certain that
knowledge will confer on man the power to wipe them
out.

No doubt the first step in this direction is a thorough
understanding of the creature's life-history. This
understanding many able men are working for. But
there1 is another line of thought that should not be
forgotten, though it is negative — many animals are
immune. Which are they? Our first business is to
list them if we would learn the why of immunity.

Frogs are ;miong the happy ones. One day early in
June I took a wood-frog in my hand. The mosquitoes
swarmed about. In a few seconds 30 were on my
hand digging away; 10 were on my forefinger, 8 on my
thumb; between these was the frog, a creature with
many resemblances to man — red blood, a smooth,
naked, soft skin, etc. — and yet not a mosquito attacked
it. Scores had bled my hand before one alighted on
the frog, and it leaped off again as though the creature
were red hot. The experiment repeated with another

66 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

frog gave the same result. Why? It can hardly be
because the frog is cold-blooded, for many birds also
seem to be immune, and their blood is warmer than
man's.

Next, I took a live frog and rubbed it on my hand
over an area marked out with lead pencil; at first
the place was wet, but in a few seconds dry and
rather shiny. I held up my hand till 50 mos-
quitoes had alighted on it and begun to bore; of
these, 4 alighted on the froggy place, 3 at once
tumbled off in haste, but one, No. 32, did sting me
there. I put my tongue to the frog's back; it was
slightly bitter.

I took a black-gilled fungus from a manure pile
to-day, rubbed a small area, and held my hand bare
till 50 mosquitoes had settled and begun to sting; 7 of
these alighted on the fungus juice, but moved off at
once, except the last; it stung, but at that time the
juice was dry.

Many other creatures, including some birds, enjoy
immunity, but I note that mosquitoes did attack a
dead crane ; also they swarmed onto a widgeon plucked
while yet warm, and bored in deep; but I did not see
any filling with blood.

There is another kind of immunity that is equally
important and obscure. In the summer of 1904, Dr.
Clinton L. Bagg, of New York, went to Newfoundland
for a fishing trip. The Codroy country was, as usual,
plagued with mosquitoes, but as soon as the party
crossed into the Garnish River Valley, a land of woods
and swamps like the other, the mosquitoes had dis-

MOSQUITOES 67

appeared. Dr. Bagg spent the month of August there,
and found no use for nets, dopes, or other means of
fighting winged pests; there were none. What the
secret was no one at present knows, but it would be a
priceless thing to find.

Now, lest I should do injustice to the Northland that
will some day be an empire peopled with white men, let
me say that there are three belts of mosquito country —
(lie Barren Grounds, where they are worst and endure
for 2£ months; the spruce forest, where they are bad
and continue for 2 months, and the great arable region
of wheat, that takes in Athabaska and Saskatchewan,
where the flies are a nuisance for 6 or 7 weeks, but no
more so than they were in Ontario, Michigan, Mani-
toba, and formerly England; and where the cultiva-
tion of the land will soon reduce them to insignificance,
as it has invariably done in other similar regions. It
is quite remarkable in the north-west that such plagues
are most numerous in the more remote regions, and
they disappear in proportion as the country is opened
up and settled.

Finally, it is a relief to know that these mosquitoes
convey no disease — even the far-spread malaria is un-
known in the region.

Why did I not take a "dope" or "fly repellent,"
ask many of my friends.

In answer I can only say T have never before been
where mosquitoes were bad enough to need one. I
had had no experience with fly-dope. I had heard
thai they are not very effectual, and so did not add
one to the outfit. I can say now it was a mistake to

68 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

leave any means untried. Next time I carry "dope."
The following recipe is highly recommended:

Pennyroyal, one part,

Oil of Tar,

Spirits of Camphor, " "

Sweet Oil, or else vaseline, three parts.

Their natural enemies are numerous; most small
birds prey on them; dragon-flies also, and the latter
alone inspire fear in the pests. When a dragon-fly
comes buzzing about one's head the mosquitoes move
away to the other side, but it makes no considerable
difference.

On Buffalo River I saw a boatman or water-spider
seize and devour a mosquito that fell within reach;
which is encouraging, because, as a rule, the smaller
the foe, the deadlier, and the only creature that really
affects the whole mosquito nation is apparently a
small reel parasite that became more and more numer-
ous as the season wore on. It appeared in red lumps
on the bill and various parts of the stinger's body, and
the victim became very sluggish. Specimens sent to
Dr. L. 0. Howard, the authority on mosquitoes, elic-
ited the information that it was a fungus, probably
new to science. But evidently it is deadly to the Culex.
More power to it, and the cause it represents; we cannot
pray too much for its increase.

Now to sum up : after considering the vastness of the
region affected — three-quarters of the globe — and the
number of diseases these insects communicate, one is
inclined to say that it might be a greater boon to

MOSQUITOES 69

mankind to extirpate the mosquito than to stamp out
tuberculosis. The latter means death to a consider-
able proportion of our race, the former means hopeless
suffering to all mankind; one takes off each year its
toll of the weaklings, the other spares none, and in the
far north at least has made a hell on earth of the land
that for six months of each year might be a human
Paradise.

The pests of the Peace

CHAPTER X

A BAD CASE

My unsought fame as a medicine man continued to
grow. One morning I heard a white voice outside
asking, "Is the doctor in?" Billy replied: "Mr. Seton
is inside." On going forth I met a young American

who thus introduced himself: "My name is Y ,

from Michigan. I was a student at Ann Arbor when
you lectured there in 1903. I don't suppose you re-
member me; I was one of the reception committee; but
I'm mighty glad to meet you out here."

After cordial greetings he held up his arm to explain
the call and said: "I'm in a pretty bad way."

"Let's see."

He unwound the bandage and showed a hand and
arm swollen out of all shape, twice the natural size,
and of a singular dropsical pallor.

"Have you any pain?"

"I can't sleep from the torture of it."

"Where does it hurt now?"

"In the hand."

"How did you get it?"

"It seemed to come on after a hard crossing of Lake
Athabaska. We had to row all night."

I asked one or two more questions, really to hide
my puzzlement. "What in the world is it?" I said to

A BAD CASE 71

myself; "all so fat and puffy." I cudgelled my brain
for a clue. As I examined the hand in silence to play
for time and conceal my ignorance, he went on:

"What I'm afraid of is blood-poisoning. I couldn't
get out to a doctor before a month, and by that
time I'll be one-armed or dead. I know which I'd
prefer."

Knowing, at all events, that nothing but evil could
come of fear, I said: "Now see here. You can put
that clean out of your mind. You never saw blood-
poisoning that colour, did you?"

"That's so," and he seemed intensely relieved.

While I was thus keeping up an air of omniscience
by saying nothing, Major Jarvis came up.

"Look at this, Jarvis," said I; "isn't it a bad
one?"

"Phew," said the Major, "that's the worst felon I
ever saw."

Like a gleam from heaven came the word felon.
That's what it was, a felon or whitlow, and again I
breathed freely. Turning to the patient with my
most cock-sure professional air, I said:

"Now see, Y., you needn't worry; you've hurt your
finger in rowing, and the injury was deep and has set
up a felon. It is not yet headed up enough; as soon
as it is I'll lance it, unless it bursts of itself (and in-
wardly I prayed it might burst). Can you get any
linseed meal or bran?"

"Afraid not."

"Well, then, get some clean rags and keep the plac<
covered with them dipped in water as hot as you car

72 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

stand it, and we'll head it up in twenty-four hours;
then in three days I'll have you in good shape to
travel." The last sentence, delivered with the calm
certainty of a man who knows all about it and never
made a mistake, did so much good to the patient that
I caught a reflex of it myself.

He gave me his good hand and said with emotion:
"You don't know how much good you have done me.
I don't mind being killed, but I don't want to go
through life a cripple."

"You say you haven't slept?" I asked.

"Not for three nights; I've suffered too much."

"Then take these pills. Go to bed at ten o'clock and
take a pill; if this does not put you to sleep, take
another at 10.30. If you are still awake at 11, take
the third; then you will certainly sleep."

He went off almost cheerfully.

Next morning he was back, looking brighter. "Well,
I said, "you slept last night, all right."

"No," he replied, "I didn't; there's opium in those
pills, isn't there?"

"Yes."

"I thought so. Here they are. I made up my
mind I'd see this out in my sober senses, without
any drugs."

"Good for you," I exclaimed in admiration. "They
talk about Indian fortitude. If I had given one of
those Indians some sleeping pills, he'd have taken them
all and asked for more. But }rou are the real American
stuff, the pluck that can't be licked, and I'll soon have
you sound as a dollar."

A BAD CASE 7:J

Then he showed his immense bladder-like hand.
"I'll have to make some preparation, and will operate
in your shanty at 1 o'clock/' I said, thinking how very
professional it sounded.

The preparation consisted of whetting my penknife
and, much more important, screwing up my nerves.
And now I remembered my friend's brandy, pul the
flask in my pocket, and went to the execution.

Be was ready. "Here," I said; "take a good pull
at this brandy."

"I will not," was (lie reply. "I'm man enough to
go through on my mettle."

'"Oh! confound your mettle," I thought, for I wanted
an excuse to take some myself, but could not for
shame under the circumstances.

"Are you ready?"

He laid his pudding-y hand on the table.

"You better have your Indian friend hold that
hand."

"I'll never budge," lie replied, with set teeth, and
motioned the Indian away. And I knew he would not
flinch. He will never know (till he reads this, perhaps)
what an effort it cost me. I knew only I musl cut
deep enough to reach the pus, not so deep as to touch
the artery, and not across the tendons, and must do it
firmly, at one clean stroke. I did.

It was a horrid success. He never quivered, but said:
"Is that all? That's a pin-prick to what ['ve been
through every minute for the last week."

I felt faint, went out behind the cabin, and shall I
confess it? — took a long swig of brandy. But I wat

74 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

good as my promise : in three days he was well enough
to travel, and soon as strong as ever.

I wonder if real doctors ever conceal, under an air
of professional calm, just such doubts and fears as
worried me.

CHAPTER XI

THE SECOND BUFFALO HUNT

Though so trifling, the success of our first Buffalo hunt
gave us quite a social lift. The chiefs were equally
surprised with the whites, and when we prepared for
a second expedition, Kiya sent word that though he
could not act as guide, I should ride his own trained
hunter, a horse that could run a trail like a hound, and
was without guile.

I am always suspicious of a horse (or man) without
guile. I wondered what was the particular weakness
of this exceptionally trained, noble, and guileless
creature. I have only one prejudice in horse-flesh — I
do not like a white one. So, of course, when the hunter
arrived he was white as marble, from mane to tail and
hoofs ; his very eyes were of a cheap china colour, sug-
gestive of cataractine blindness. The only relief was a
morbid tinge of faded shrimp pink in his nostrils and
ears. But he proved better than he looked. He cer-
tainly did run tracks by nose like a hound, provided I
let him choose the track. He was a lively walker and
easy trotter, and would stay where the bridle was
dropped. So I came to the conclusion that Kiya was
not playing a joke on me, but really had lent me his
best hunter, whose sepulchral whiteness I could see
would be of great advantage in snow time when chiefly
one is supposed to hunt.

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Cranberry

Not only Kiya, but Pierre Squirrel, the head chief,
seemed to harbour a more kindly spirit. He now
suddenly acquired a smattering of English and a fair

knowledge of French. He
jQ even agreed to lead us
through his own hunting-
grounds to the big Buffalo-
range, stipulating that we
be back by July 1, as that
was Treaty Day, when all
the tribe assembled to re-
ceive their treaty money, and his presence as head
chief was absolutely necessary.

We were advised to start from Fort Smith, as the
trail thence was through a dryer country; so on the
morning of June 24, at 6.50, we left the Fort on our
second Buffalo hunt.

Major A. M. Jarvis, Mr. E. A. Preble, Corporal Selig,
Chief Pierre Squirrel, and my-
self, all mounted, plus two
pack-horses, prepared for a
week's campaign.

Riding ahead in his yellow
caftan and black burnoose was
Pierre Squirrel on his spirited

charger, looking most picturesque. But remembering
that his yellow caftan was a mosquito net, his black
burnoose a Hudson's Bay coat, and his charger an
ornery Indian Cayuse, robbed the picture of most of
its poetry.
We marched westerly 7 miles through fine, dry,

Uva ursi

The Athabaska Rose or Needle Bloom

Pierre Squirrel, Chief of the Chipewyans

THE SECOND BUFFALO HUNT

t i

jack-pine wood, then 3 miles through mixed poplar,
pine, and spruce, and came to tin- Slave River opposite
Point Gravois. Thence we went a mile or bo into sim-
ilar woods, and after another stretch of muskegs. We

camped for lunch at 11.45, having covered VI miles.

Pyrola

On Salt Mountain

At two we set out, and reached Salt River at three,
but did not cross there. It is a magnificent stream,
200 feet wide, with hard banks and fine timber on each
side; but its waters are brackish.

We travelled north-westerly, or northerly, along the
east banks for an hour, but at length away from it on
a wide prairie1, a mile or more across here bul evidently
extending much farther behind interruptions of willow-
clumps. Probably these prairies join with those we

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Uva-ursi

saw on the Beaulieu trip. They are wet now, though
a horse can go anywhere, and the grass is good. We
camped about six on a dry place back from the river.
At night I was much interested to hear at intervals the

familiar Kick-kick-

kick-kick of the Yel-
low Rail in the ad-
joining swamps. This
must be its northmost
range; we did not
actually see it.
Here I caught a garter-snake. Preble says it is the
same form as that at Edmonton. Our guide was as
much surprised to see me take it in my hands, as he
was to see me let it go unharmed.

Next morning, after a short hour's travel, we came
again to Salt River and proceeded to cross. Evi-
dently Squirrel had selected the wrong place, for the
sticky mud seemed bottomless, and we came near los-
ing two of the horses.

After two hours we all got across and went on, but
most of the horses had

shown up poorly, as spirit- /^0*$J^M j*

less creatures, not yet re- st^ "^^^dL

covered from the effects Linnsea

of a hard winter.

Our road now lay over the high upland of the Salt
Mountain, among its dry and beautiful woods. The
trip would have been glorious but for the awful things
that I am not allowed to mention outside of Chap-
ter IX.

Map of Buffalo herds and trails

Drkwn by Chief Pierre Squirrel, June 2», 1907

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Pierre proved a pleasant and intelligent companion;
he did his best, but more than once shook his head and
said: "Chevaux no good."

We covered 15 miles before
night, and all day we got glimpses
of some animal on our track, 300
yards behind in the woods. It
might easily have been a Wolf, but
at night he sneaked into camp —
a forlorn and starving Indian dog.
Next day we reached the long-
looked-for Little Buffalo River.
Several times of late Pierre had
commented on the slowness of our
horses and enlarged on the awful
muskegs that covered the coun-
try west of the Little Buffalo.
Now he spoke out frankly and
said we had been 2J days coming
40 miles when the road was good ;
we were now coming to very bad
roads and had to go as far again.
These horses could not do it, and get
him back to Fort Smith for July 1
—and back at any price he must be.
He was willing to take the whole outfit half a day
farther westward, or, if we preferred it, he would go
afoot or on horseback with the pick of the men and
horses for a hasty dash forward ; but to take the whole
outfit on to the Buffalo country and get back on time
was not possible.

Unifolium

tiii: second buffalo hunt

This was a bad shake. We held a council of war,
and the things that were said of that Indian should
have riled him if he understood. He preserved his
calm demeanour; probably this was one of the con-
venient times when all his English forsook him. We
were simply raging: to be half-way to our goal, with
abundance of provisions, fine weather, good health
and everything promis-
ing well, and then to be
balked because our
guide wanted to go back.

I felt as savage as the
others, but on calmer re-
flection pointed out that
Pierre told us before
starting that he must
be back for Treaty Day,
and even now he was
ready to do his best.

Then in a calm of the storm (which he continued to
ignore) Pierre turned to me and said: "Why don't you
go back and try the canoe route? You can go down the
Great River to Grand Detour, then portage 8 miles
over to the Buffalo, go down this to the Nyarling, then
up the Nyarling into the heart of the Buffalo country;
2J days will do it, and it will be eas}^ for there is plenty
of water and no rapids," and he drew a fairly exact
map which showed that he knew the country thor-
oughly.

There was nothing to be gained by going half a day
farther.

Junipcrus nana

82 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

To break up our party did not fit in at all with our
plans, so, after another brief stormy debate in which
the guide took no part, we turned without crossing the
Little Buffalo, and silently, savagely, began the home-
ward journey; as also did the little Indian dog.

Next morning we crossed the Salt River at a lower
place where was a fine, hard bottom. That afternoon
we travelled for 6 miles through a beautiful and level
country, covered with a forest of large poplars, not
very thick; it will some day be an ideal cattle-range,
for it had rank grass everywhere, and was varied by
occasional belts of jack-pine. In one of these Preble
found a nest with six eggs that proved to be those of
the Bohemian Chatterer. These he secured, with pho-
tograph of the nest and old bird. It was the best find
of the journey.

The eggs proved of different incubation — at least a
week's difference — showing that the cool nights neces-
sitated immediate setting.

We camped at Salt River mouth, and next afternoon
were back at Fort Smith, having been out five days and
seen nothing, though there were tracks of Moose and
Bear in abundance.

Here our guide said good-bye to us, and so did the
Indian dog.

CHAPTER XII

BEZKYA AND THE PILLS

During this journey I had successfully treated two of
the men for slight ailments, and Squirrel had made
mental note of the fact. A result of it was that in the
morning an old, old, black-looking Indian came hob-
bling on a stick to my tent and, in husky Chipewyan,
roughly translated by Billy, told me that he had pains
in his head and his shoulder and his body, and his
arms and his legs and his feet, and he couldn't hunt,
couldn't fish, couldn't walk, couldn't eat, couldn't lie,
couldn't sleep, and he wanted me to tackle the case. I
hadn't the least idea of what ailed the old chap, but
conveyed no hint of my darkness. I put on my very
medical look and said: "Exactly so. Now you take
these pills and you will find a wonderful difference in
the morning." I had some rather fierce rhubarb pills;
one was a dose but, recognising the necessity for eclat,
I gave him two.

He gladly gulped them down in water. The Indian
takes kindly to pills, it's so easy to swallow them, so
obviously productive of results, and otherwise satis-
factory. Then the old man hobbled off to his lodge.

A few hours later he was back again, looking older
and shakier than ever, his wet red eyes looking like
plague spots in his ashy brown visage or like volcanic

84 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

eruptions in a desert of dead lava, and in husky, click-
ing accents he told Billy to tell the Okimow that the
pills were no good — not strong enough for him.

"Well," I said, "he shall surely have results this
time." I gave him three big ones in a cup of hot tea.
All the Indians love tea, and it seems to help them.
Under its cheering power the old man's tongue was
loosened. He talked more clearly, and Billy, whose
knowledge of Chipewyan is fragmentary at best, sud-
denly said:

"I'm afraid I made a mistake. Bezkya says the pills
are too strong. Can't you give him something to stop
them?"

"Goodness," I thought; "here's a predicament," but
I didn't know what to do. I remembered a western
adage, "When you don't know a thing to do, don't do
a thing." I only said: "Tell Bezkya to go home, go to
bed, and stay there till to-morrow, then come here
again."

Away went the Indian to his lodge. I felt rather
uneasy that day and night, and the next morning
looked with some eagerness for the return of Bezkya.
But he did not come and I began to grow unhappy. I
wanted some evidence that I had not done him an in-
jury. I wished to see him, but professional etiquette
forbade me betraying myself by calling on him. Noon
came and no Bezkya; late afternoon, and then I sallied
forth, not to seek him, but to pass near his lodge, as
though I were going to the Hudson's Bay store. And
there, to my horror, about the lodge I saw a group of
squaws, with shawls over their heads, whispering to-

BEZKYA AND THE PILLS 85

gether. As I went by, all turned as one of them
pointed at me, and again they whispered.

"Oh, heavens!" I thought; "I've killed the old
in; m." But still I would not go in. That night I
did not sleep for worrying about it. Next morning I
was on the point of sending Billy to learn the state of
affairs, when who should come staggering up but old
Bezkya. He was on two crutches now, his com-
plexion was a dirty gray, and his feeble knees were
shaking, but he told Billy — yes, unmistakably this
time — to tell the Okimow that that was great medi-
cine I had given him, and he wanted a dose just like it
for his wife.

CHAPTER XIII

FORT SMITH AND THE SOCIAL QUEEN

Several times during our river journey I heard refer-
ence to an extraordinary woman in the lower country,
one who gave herself great airs, put on style, who was
so stuck up, indeed, that she had "two pots, one for tea,
one for coffee." Such incredible pomposity and arro-
gance naturally invited sarcastic comment from all the
world, and I was told I should doubtless see this re-
markable person at Fort Smith.

After the return from Buffalo hunt No. 2, and pend-
ing arrangements for hunt No. 3, I saw more of Fort
Smith than I wished for, but endeavoured to turn
the time to account by copying out interesting chap-
ters from the rough semi-illegible, perishable manu-
script accounts of northern life called " old-timers."
The results of this library research work appear under
the chapter heads to which they belong.

At each of these northern posts there were interest-
ing experiences in store for me, as one who had read
all the books of northern travel and dreamed for half
a lifetime of the north; and that was — almost daily
meeting with famous men. I suppose it would be
similar if one of these men were to go to London or
Washington and have some one tell him: that gentle
old man there is Lord Roberts, or that meek, shy, re-

FORT SMITH AND THE SOCIAL QUEEN 87

tiring person is Speaker Cannon; this on the first bench
is Lloyd-George, or that with the piercing eyes is
Aldrich, the uncrowned King of America. So it was
a frequent and delightful experience to meet with
men whose names have figured in books of travel for
a generation. This was Roderick MacFarlane, who
founded Fort Anderson, discovered the MacFarlane
Rabbit, etc.; here was John Schott, who guided Cas-
par Whitney; that was Hanbury's head man; here
was Murdo McKay, who travelled with Warburton
Pike in the Barrens and starved with him on Peace
River; and so with many more.

Very few of these men had any idea of the interest
attaching to their observations. Their notion of val-
ues centres chiefly on things remote from their daily
life. It was very surprising to see how completely
one may be outside of the country he lives in. Thus
I once met a man who had lived sixteen years in north-
ern Ontario, had had his chickens stolen every year by
Foxes, and never in his life had seen a Fox. I know
many men who live in Wolf country, and hear them at
least every week, but have never seen one in twenty
years' experience. Quite recently I saw a score of folk
who had lived in the porcupiniest part of the Adiron-
dacks for many summers and yet never saw a Porcu-
pine, and did not know what it was when I brought one
into their camp. So it was not surprising to me to find
that although living in a country thai swarmed with
Moose, in a village which consumes at least a hundred
Moose per annum, there were at Fort Smith several of
the Hudson's Bay men that had lived on Moose meat

88 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

all their lives and yet had never seen a live Moose. It
sounds like a New Yorker saying he had never seen a
stray cat. But I was simply dumfounded by a final
development in the same line.

Quite the most abundant carpet in the forest here
is the uva-ursi or bear-berry. Its beautiful evergreen
leaves and bright red berries cover a quarter of the
ground in dry woods and are found in great acre beds.
It furnishes a staple of food to all wild things, birds
and beasts, including Foxes, Martens, and Coyotes; it
is one of the most abundant of the forest products, and
not one hundred yards from the fort are solid patches
as big as farms, and yet when I brought in a spray to
sketch it one day several of the Hudson's Bay officers
said: "Where in the world did you get that? It must
be very rare, for I never yet saw it in this country."
A similar remark was made about a phcebe-bird.
"It was never before seen in the country"; and yet
there is a pair nesting every quarter of a mile from
Athabaska Landing to Great Slave Lake.

Fort Smith, being the place of my longest stay, was
the scene of my largest medical practice.

One of my distinguished patients here was Jacob
McKay, a half-breed born on Red River in 1840. He
left there in 1859 to live 3 years at Rat Portage.
Then he went to Norway House, and after 3 years
moved to Athabaska in 1865. In 1887 he headed a
special government expedition into the Barren Crounds
to get some baby Musk-ox skins. He left Fort Rae,
April 25, 1887, and, travelling due north with Dogrib
Indians some 65 miles, found Musk-ox on May 10, and

Indian cabin, Fort Smith

^afftf JA

W***?*

ww*m

Starving squaws looking for the return of the fisher boats

FORT SMITH AND THE SOCIAL QUEEN 89

later saw many hundreds. They killed 16 ealves for
their pelts, but no old ones. McKay had to use all
his influence to keep the [ndians from slaughtering

wholesale; indeed; it was to restrain them that he was
sent.

He now lives at Fort Resolution.

One morning the chief came and said he wanted me
to doctor a sick woman in his lodge*. I thought sick
women a good place for an amateur to draw the line,
but Squirrel did not. "II faut venir; elle est bien
malade."

At length I took my pill-kit and followed him.
Around his lodge were a score of the huge sled dogs,
valuable animals in winter, but useless, sullen, starv-
ing, noisy nuisances all summer. If you kick them
out of your way, they respect you; if you pity them,
they bite you. They respected us.

We entered the lodge, and there sitting by the fire
were two squaws making moccasins. One was old
and ugly as sin; the second, young and pretty as a
brown fawn. I looked from one to the other in doubt,
and said :

"Laquellc est la malade?"

Then the pretty one replied in perfect English:
"You needn't talk French here; I speak English,"
which she certainly did. French is mostly used, but
the few that speak English are very proud of it and
are careful to let you know.

"Are you ill?" I asked.

"The chief thinks I am," was the somewhat impa-
tient reply, and she broke down in a coughing fit.

90 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

"How long have you had that?" I said gravely.
"What?"

I tapped my chest for reply.
"Oh! since last spring."

"And you had it the spring before, too, didn't you?"
"Why, yes! (a pause). But that isn't what bothers
me."

"Isn't your husband kind to you?"

" Yes — sometimes."

"Is this your husband?"

"No! F B is; I am K ."

Again she was interrupted by coughing.

"Would you like something to ease that cough?" I
asked.

"No! It isn't the body that's sick; it's the heart."

"Do you wish to tell me about it?"

"I lost my babies."

"When?"

"Two years ago. I had two little ones, and both
died in one month. I am left much alone; my hus-
band is away on the transport; our lodge is nearby.
The chief has all these dogs ; they bark at every little
thing and disturb me, so I lie awake all night and think
about my babies. But that isn't the hardest thing."

"What is it?"

She hesitated, then burst out: "The tongues of the
women. You don't know what a hell of a place this
is to live in. The women here don't mind their work;
they sit all day watching for a chance to lie about their
neighbours. If I am seen talking to you now, a story
will be made of it. If I walk to the store for a pound

1 ( )RT SMITH AND THE SOCIAL QUEEN 91

of tea, a story is made of that. If I turn my head,
another story; and everything is carried to my hus-
band to make mischief. It is nothing but lies, lies,
lies, all day, all night, all year. Women don't do that
way in your country, do they?"

"No," I replied emphatically. "If any woman in
my country were to tell a lie to make another woman
unhappy, she would be thought very, very wicked."

"I am sure of it," she said. "I wish I could go to
your country and be at rest." She turned to her work
and began talking to the others in Chipewyan.

Now another woman entered. She was dressed in
semi-white style, and looked, not on the ground, as
does an Indian woman, on seeing a strange man, but
straight at me.

"Bon jour, madame," I said.

"I speak Ingliss," she replied with emphasis.

"Indeed! And what is your name?"

"I am Madame X ."

And now I knew I was in the presence of the stuck-
up social queen.

After some conversation she said: "I have some
things at home you like to see."

"Where is your lodge?" I asked.

"Lodge," she replied indignantly; "I have no lodge.
I know ze Indian way. I know ze half-breed way. I
know ze white man's way. I go ze white man's way.
I live in a house — and my door is painted blue."

I went to her house, a 10 by 12 log cabin; but the
door certainly was painted blue, a gorgeous sky blue,
the only touch of paint in sight. Inside was all one

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

room, with a mud fireplace at one end and some piles
of rags in the corners for beds, a table, a chair, and
some pots. On the walls snow-shoes, fishing-lines,
dried fish in smellable bunches, a portrait of the Okapi
from Outing, and a musical clock that played with

painful persistence
the first three bars
of "God Save the
King." Everywhere
else were rags, mud,
and dirt.

"You see, I am
joost like a white
woman," said the
swarthy queen. "I
wear boots (she drew
her bare brown feet
and legs under her
skirt) and corsets.
Zey are la," and she
pointed to the wall, where, in very truth, tied up with
a bundle of dried fish, were the articles in question.
Not simply boots and corsets, but high-heeled Louis
Quinze slippers and French corsets. I learned after-
ward how they were worn. When she went shop-
ping to the H. B. Co. store she had to cross the
"parade" ground, the great open space; she crowded
her brown broad feet into the slippers, then taking a
final good long breath she strapped on the fearfully
tight corsets outside of all. Now she hobbled painfully
across the open, proudly conscious that the eyes of

Half-breed 's kitchen, Fort Smith

FORT SMITH AND THE SOCIAL QUEEN 93

the world were upon her. Once in the store she would
unhook the corsets and breathe comfortably till the
agonized triumphant return parade was In order.

This, however, is aside; we are still in the home of
the queen. She continued to adduce new evidences.
"I am just like a white woman. I call my daughter
darrr-leeng." Then turning to a fat, black-looking
squaw by the fire, she said: "Darrr-leeng, go fetch a
pail of vaw-taire."

But darling, if familiar with that form of address,
must have been slumbering, for she never turned or
moved a hair's-breadth or gave a symptom of intelli-
gence.

Now, at length it transpired that the social leader
wished to see me professionally.

"It is zc nairves," she explained. "Zere is too
much going on in this village. I am fatigued, very
tired. I wish I could go away to some quiet place for
a long rest."

It was difficult to think of a place, short of the silent
tomb, that would be obviously quieter than Fort Smith.
So I looked wise, worked on her faith with a pill, as-
sured her that she would soon feel much better, and
closed the blue door behind me.

With Chief Squirrel, who had been close by in most
of this, I now walked back to my tent. He told me of
many sick folk and sad lodges that needed me.

It seems that very few of these people are well. In
spite of their healthy forest lives they are far less
sound than an average white community. They
have their own troubles, with the white man's maladies

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

thrown in. I saw numberless other cases of dread-
ful, hopeless, devastating diseases, mostly of the white
man's importation. It is heart-rending to see so much
human misery and be able to do nothing at all for it,
not even bring a gleam of hope. It made me feel like
a murderer to tell one after another, who came to me
covered with cankerous bone-eating sores, "I can do
nothing"; and I was deeply touched by the simple
statement of the Chief Pierre Squirrel, after a round of
visits: "You see how unhappy we are, how miserable
and sick. When I made this treaty with your govern-
ment, I stipulated that we should have here a police-
man and a doctor; instead of that you have sent noth-
ing but missionaries."

Anemone patens, Slave River,
40 miles above Fort Smith, June 7, 1907

While sketching this a humuiing-bird moth visited the bloom

CHAPTER XIV
RABBITS AND LYNXES IN THE NORTH-WEST

There are no Rabbits in the north-west. This state-
ment, far from final, is practically true to-day, but I
saw plenty of Lynxes, and one cannot write of ducks
without mentioning water.

All wild animals fluctuate greatly in their population,
none more so than the Snowshoe or white-rabbit of
the north-west. This is Rabbit history as far back as
known: They are spread over some great area; con-
ditions are favourable; some unknown influence en-
dows the females with unusual fecundity; they bear
not one, but two or three broods in a season, and these;
number not 2 or 3, but 8 or 10 each brood. The species
increases far beyond the powers of predaceous birds or
beasts to check, and the Rabbits after 7 or 8 years
of this are multiplied into untold millions. On such
occasions every little thicket has a Rabbit in it; they
jump out at every 8 or 10 feet; they number not less
than 100 to the acre on desirable ground, which means
over 6,000 to the square mile, and a region as large
as Alberta would contain not less than 100,000,000
fat white bunnies. At this time one man can readily
kill 100 or 200 Rabbits in a day, and even- bird and
beast of prey is slaughtering Rabbits without restraint.
Still they increase. Finally, they are so extraordina-

96 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

rily superabundant that they threaten their own food
supply as well as poison all the ground. A new influ-
ence appears on the scene; it is commonly called the
plague, though it is not one disease but many run
epidemic riot, and, in a few weeks usually, the Rabbits
are wiped out.

This is an outline of the established routine in Rab-
bit vital statistics. It, of course, varies greatly in every
detail, including time and extent of territory involved,
and when the destruction is complete it is an awful
thing for the carnivores that have lived on the bunny
millions and multiplied in ratio with their abundance.
Of all the northern creatures none are more dependent
on the Rabbits than is the Canada Lynx. It lives on
Rabbits, follows the Rabbits, thinks Rabbits, tastes
like Rabbits, increases with them, and on their failure
dies of starvation in the unrabbited woods.

It must have been a Hibernian familiar with the
north that said: "A Lynx is nothing but an animated
Rabbit anyway."

The Rabbits of the Mackenzie River Valley reached
their flood height in the winter of 1903-4. That
season, it seems, they actually reached billions.

Late the same winter the plague appeared, but did
not take them at one final swoop. Next winter they
were still numerous, but in 1907 there seemed not one
Rabbit left alive in the country. All that summer we
sought for them and inquired for them. We saw signs
of millions in the season gone by; everywhere were
acres of saplings barked at the snow-line ; the floor of
the woods, in all parts visited, was pebbled over with

RABBITS AND LYNXKS

pellets; but we saw not one Woodrabbit and heard only
a vague report of 3 thai an Indian claimed he had seen
in a remote part of the region late in the fall.

Then, since the Lynx is the logical apex of a pyramid
of Rabbits, it naturally goes down when the Rabbits
are removed.

These bobtailed cats are actually starving and ready
to enter any kind of a trap or snare that carries a bait.
The slaughter of Lynxes in its relation to the Rabbit
supply is shown by the H. B. Company fur returns
as follows:

In 1900,

numbe

r of skins

taken .

4,473

" 1901

5,781

" 1902

((

9,117

" 1903

. 19,267

" 1904

36,116

" 1905

58,850

" 1906

61,388

" 1907

36,201

" 1908

9,664

Remembering, then, that the last of the Rabbits were
wiped out in the winter of 1906-7, it will be understood
that there were thousands of starving Lynxes roaming
about the country. The number that we saw, and their
conditions, all helped to emphasise the dire story of
plague and famine.

Some of my notes are as follows :

May 18th, Athabaska River, on roof of a trapper's
hut found the bodies of 30 L3*nxes.

98 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

May 19th, young Lynx shot to-day, female, very
thin, weighed only 12^ lbs., should have weighed 25.
In its stomach nothing but the tail of a white-footed
mouse. Liver somewhat diseased. In its bowels at
least one tapeworm.

June 3d, a young male Lynx shot to-day by one of
the police boys, as previously recorded. Starving; it
weighed only 15 lbs.

June 6th, adult female Lynx killed, weighed 15 lbs.;
stomach contained a Redsquirrel, a Chipmunk, and a
Bog-lemming. (Synaptomys borealis.)

June 18th, young male Lynx, weight 13 lbs., shot by
Preble on Smith Landing; had in its stomach a Chip-
munk (borealis) and 4 small young of the same, ap-
parently a week old; also a score of pinworms. How
did it get the Chipmunk family without digging them
out?

June 26th, on Salt Mt. found the dried-up body of a
Lynx firmly held in a Bear trap.

June 29th, one of the Jarvis bear-cub skins was
destroyed by the dogs, except a dried-up paw, which
he threw out yesterday. This morning one of the men
shot a starving Lynx in camp. Its stomach contained
nothing but the bear paw thrown out last night.

These are a few of my observations; they reflect
the general condition — all were starving. Not one of
them had any Rabbit in its stomach; not one had a
bellyful ; none of the females were bearing young this
year.

To embellish these severe and skeletal notes, I add
some incidents supplied by various hunters of the north.

RABBITS AND LYNXES 99

Let us remember that the Lynx is a huge cat weigh-
ing 25 to 35 or even 40 lbs., that it is an ordinary cat
multiplied by some 4 or 5 diameters, and we shall
have a good foundation for comprehension.

Murdo McKay has often seen 2 or 3 Lynxes together
in March, the mating season. They fight and cater-
waul like a lot of tomcats.

The un catlike readiness of the Lynx to take to water
is well known; that it is not wholly at home there is
shown by the fact that if one awaits a Lynx at the
landing he is making for, he will not turn aside in the
least, but come right on to land, fight, and usually
perish.

The ancient feud between cat and dog is not for-
gotten in the north, for the Lynx is the deadly foe of
the Fox and habitually kills it when there is soft snow
and scarcity of easier prey. Its broad feet are snow-
shoes enabling it to trot over the surface on Reynard's
trail. The latter easily runs away at first, but sink-
ing deeply at each bound, his great speed is done in
5 or 6 miles ; the Lynx keeps on the same steady trot
and finally claims its victim.

John Bellecourt related that in the January of 1907,
at a place 40 miles south of Smith Landing, he saw in the
snow where a Lynx had run down and devoured a Fox.
. A contribution by T. Anderson runs thus:

In late March, 1907, an Indian named Amil killed
a Caribou near Fort Rae. During his absence a Lynx
came along and gorged itself with the meat, then lay
down alongside to sleep. A Silver Fox came next;
but the Lynx sprang on him and killed him. When

100 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Amil came back he found the Fox and got a large sum
for the skin; one shoulder was torn. He did not see
the Lynx but saw the tracks.

The same old-timer is authority for a case in which
the tables were turned.

A Desert Indian on the headwaters of the Gatineau
went out in the early spring looking for Beaver. At a
well-known pond he saw a Lynx crouching on a log,
watching the Beaver hole in the ice. The Indian
waited. At length a Beaver came up cautiously and
crawled out to a near bunch of willows; the Lynx
sprang, but the Beaver was well under way and dived
into the hole with the Lynx hanging to him. After
a time the Indian took a crotched pole and fished
about under the ice; at last he found something soft
and got it out ; it was the Lynx drowned.

Belalise ascribes another notable achievement to
this animal.

One winter when hunting Caribou near Fond du
Lac with an Indian named Tenahoo (human tooth),
they saw a Lynx sneaking along after some Caribou:
they saw it coming but had not sense enough to run
away. It sprang on the neck of a young buck; the
buck bounded away with the Lynx riding, but soon fell
dead. The hunters came up; the Lynx ran off. There
was little blood and no large wound on the buck;
probably its neck was broken. The Indian said the
Lynx always kills with its paw, and commonly kills
Deer. David MacPherson corroborates this and main-
tains that on occasion it will even kill Moose.

In southern settlements, where the Lynx is little

RABBITS AND LYNXES

101

known, it is painted as a fearsome beast of limitless
ferocity, strength, and activity. In the north, where it
abounds and furnishes staple furs and meat, it is held
in no such awe. It is never known to attack man. It
often follows his trail out of curiosity, and often the
trapper who is so followed gets the Lynx by waiting

Pole for rabbit snare and various ways of
setting the noose

in ambush; then it is easily killed with a charge of
duck-shot. When caught in a snare a very small club
is used to "add it to the list." It seems tremendously
active among logs and brush piles, but on the level
ground its speed is poor, and a good runner can over-
take one in a few hundred yards.

David MacPherson says that last summer he ran
down a Lynx on a prairie of Willow River (Mackenzie),
near Providence. It had some 90 yards start ; he ran
it down in about a mile, then it turned to fight and he
shot it.

Other instances have been recorded, and finally, as
noted later, I was eye-witness of one of those exploits.
Since the creature can be run down on hard ground, it

102 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

is not surprising to learn that men on snow-shoes com-
monly pursue it successfully. As long as it trots it is
safe, but when it gets alarmed and bounds it sinks
and becomes exhausted. It runs in a circle of about
a mile, and at last takes to a tree where it is easily
killed. At least one-third are taken in this way; it
requires half an hour to an hour, there must be soft
snow, and the Lynx must be scared so he leaps; then
he sinks; if not scared he glides along on his hairy
snow-shoes, refuses to tree, and escapes in thick woods,
where the men cannot follow quickly.

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CHAPTER XV

EBB AND FLOW OF ANIMAL LIFE

Throughout this voyage we were struck by the rarity
of some sorts of animals and the continual remarks
that three, five, or six years ago these same sorts were
extremely abundant; and in some few cases the con-
ditions were reversed.

For example, during a week spent at Fort Smith,
Preble had out a line of 50 mouse-traps every night
and caught only one Shrew and one Meadowmouse in
the week. Four years before he had trapped on exactly
the same ground, catching 30 or 40 Meadowmice every
night.

Again, in 1904 it was possible to see 100 Muskrats
any fine evening. In 1907, though continually on the
lookout, I saw less than a score in six months. Red-
squirrels varied in the same way.

Of course, the Rabbits themselves were the extreme
case, millions in 1904, none at all in 1907. The present,
then, was a year of low ebb. The first task was to
determine whether this related to all mammalian life.
Apparently not, because Deermicc, Lynxes, Heaver,
and Caribou were abundant. Yet these are not their
maximum years; the accounts show them to have been
so much more numerous last year.

There is only one continuous statistical record of
the abundance of animals, that is the returns of the

107

108

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

fur trade. These have been kept for over 200 years,
and if we begin after the whole continent was covered
by fur-traders, they are an accurate gauge of the abun-
dance of each species. Obviously, this must be so, for
the whole country is trapped over ever}?- year, all the
furs are marketed, most of them through the Hudson's
Bay Company, and whatever falls into other hands

Drummond Vole or Fieldmouse

is about the same percentage each year, therefore the
H. B. Co. returns are an accurate gauge of the relative
rise and fall of the population.

Through the courtesy of its officials I have secured
the Company's returns for the 85 years — 1821-1905 in-
clusive. I take 1821 as the starting-point, as that was
the first year when the whole region was covered by
the Hudson's Bay Company to the exclusion of all
important rivals.

First, I have given these accounts graphic tabula-
tion, and at once many interesting facts are presented
to the eye. The Rabbit line prior to 1845 is not reliable.
Its subsequent close coincidence with that of Lynx,
Marten, Skunk, and Fox is evidently cause and effect.

The Mink coincides fairly well with Skunk and
Marten.

EBB AND FLOW OF ANIMAL LIFE 109

The Muskrat's variation probably has relation chiefly
to the amount of water, which, as is well known, is
cyclic in the north-west.

The general resemblance of Beaver and Otter lines
may not mean anything. If, as said, the Otter occa-
sionally preys on the Beaver,
these lines should in some de-
gree correspond.

The Wolf line does not man-
ifest any special relationship
and seems to be in a class by
itself. The great destruction
from 1S40 to 1870 was prob-
ably due to strychnine, newly
introduced about then.

The Bear, Badger, and
Wolverine go along with little

variation. Probably the Coon does the same; the
enormous rise in 1S67 from an average of 3,500 per
annum to 24,000 was most likely a result of accidental
accumulation and not representative of any special
abundance. Finally, each and every line manifests
extraordinary variability in the '30's. It is not to be
supposed that the population fluctuated so enormouslv
from one year to another, but rather that the facilities
for export were irregular.

The case is further complicated by the fact that some
of the totals represent part of this year and part of
last; nevertheless, upon the whole, the following gen-
eral principles arc deducible:

(a) The high points for each species are with fair
regularity 10 years apart. -

Microtus pocket hole. Ed-
monton, May 10, 1907

110 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

(6) In the different species these are not exactly
coincident.

(c) To explain the variations we must seek not
the reason for the increase — that is normal — but for
the destructive agency that ended the increase.

This is different in three different groups.

First. The group whose food and enemies fluctu-
ate but little. The only examples of this on our list
are the Muskrat and Beaver, more especially the Musk-
rat. Its destruction seems to be due to a sudden great
rise of the water after the ice has formed, so that the
Rats are drowned; or to a dry season followed by
severe frost, freezing most ponds to the bottom, so
that the Rats are imprisoned and starve to death, or
are forced out to cross the country in winter, and so
are brought within the power of innumerable enem'es.

How tremendously this operates may be judged
by these facts. In 1900 along the Mackenzie I was
assured one could shoot 20 Muskrats in an hour after
sundown. Next winter the flood followed the frost
and the Rats seemed to have been wiped out. In
1907 I spent 6 months outdoors in the region and saw
only 17 Muskrats the whole time; in 1901 the H. B. Co.
exported over 1| millions; in 1907, 407,472. The fact
that they totalled as high was due, no doubt, to their
abundance in eastern regions not affected by the dis-
aster.

Second. The group that increases till epidemic
disease attacks their excessively multiplied hordes.
The Snowshoe-Rabbit is the only well-known case to-
day, but there is reason for the belief that once the
Beaver were subjected to a similar process. Concern-

EBB AND FLOW OF ANIMAL LIFE HI

ing the Mice and Lemmings, I have qoI complete

data, but they are believed to multiply and suffer in
the same way.
Third. The purely carnivorous, whose existence

is dependent on the Babbits. This includes chiefly
the Lynx and Fox, but in less degree all the small
carnivores.

In some cases such as the Marten, over-feeding seems
as inimical to multiplication as under-feeding, and it
will be seen that each year of great increase for this
species coincided with a medium year for Babbits.

But the fundamental and phenomenal case is that
of the Rabbits themselves. And in solving this we
are confronted by the generally attested facts that
when on the increase they have two or three broods
each season and 8 to 10 in a brood; when they are
decreasing they have but one brood and only 2 or 3
in that. This points to some obscure agency at work ;
whether it refers simply to the physical vigour of the
fact, or to some uncomprehended magnetic or helio-
logical cycle, is utterly unknowrn.

The practical consideration for the collecting natural-
ist is this: Beaver, Muskrat, Otter, Fisher, Raccoon,
Badger, Wolverine, Wolf, Marten, Fox reached the
low ebb in 1904-5. All are on the up-grade; pre-
sumably the same applies to the small rodents. Their
decacycle will be complete in 1914-15, so that 1910-11
should be the years selected by the next collecting
naturalist who would visit the north.

For those who will enter before that there is a rea-
sonable prospect of all these species in fair numbers,

112 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

except perhaps the Lynx and the Caribou. Evidently
the former must be near minimum now (1909) and the
latter would be scarce, if it is subject to the rule of the
decacycle, though it is not at all proven that such
is the case.

CHAPTER XVI

THE PELICAN TRIP

We were still held back by the dilatory ways of our
Indian friends, so to lose no time Preble and I deter-
mined to investigate a Pelican rookery.

Most persons associate the name Pelican with tropic
lands and fish, but ornithologists have long known
that in the interior of the continent the great white
Pelican ranges nearly or quite to the Arctic circle.
The northmost colony on record was found on an island
of Great Slave Lake (see Preble, "N. A. Fauna," 27),
but this is a very small one. The northmost large
colony, and the one made famous by travellers from
Alexander Mackenzie downward, is on the great island
that splits the Smith Rapids above Fort Smith. Here,
with a raging flood about their rocky citadel, they are
safe from all spoilers that travel on the earth; only a
few birds of the air need they fear, and these they have
strength to repel.

On June 22 we set out to explore this. Preble,
Billy, and myself, with our canoe on a wagon, drove
6 miles back on the landing trail and launched the
canoe on the still water above Mountain Portage.
Pelican Island must be approached exactly right, in
the comparatively slow water above the rocky island,
for 20 feet away on each side is an irresistible current

113

114 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

leading into a sure-death cataract. But Billy was a
river pilot and we made the point in safety.

Drifted like snow through the distant woods were
the brooding birds, but they arose before we were
near and sailed splendidly overhead in a sweeping,
wide-fronted rank. As nearly as I could number them,
there were 120, but evidently some were elsewhere, as
this would not allow a pair to each nest.

We landed safely and found the nests scattered
among the trees and fallen timbers. One or two
mother birds ran off on foot, but took wing as soon
as clear of the woods — none remained.

The nests numbered 77, and there was evidence of
others long abandoned. There were 163 eggs, not
counting 5 rotten ones, lying outside; nearly all had
2 eggs in the nest; 3 had 4; 5 had 3; 4 had 1. One or
two shells were found in the woods, evidently sucked
by Gulls or Ravens.

All in the nests were near hatching. One little one
had his beak out and was uttering a hoarse chirping;
a dozen blue-bottle flies around the hole in the shell
were laying their eggs in it and on his beak. This led
us to examine all the nests that the flies were buzzing
around, and in each case (six) we found the same state
of affairs, a young one with his beak out and the flies
"blowing" around it. All of these were together in
one corner, where were a dozen nests, probably an-
other colony of earlier arrival.

We took about a dozen photos of the place (large
and small). Then I set my camera with the long tube
to get the old ones, and we went to lunch at the other

THE PELICAN TRIP L15

end of the island. It was densely wooded and about
an acn- in extent, so we thought we should bo forgotten.
The old ones circled high overhead but al last dropped,
I thought, back to the nests. After an hour and a half
] returned to the ambush; not a Pelican was there.
Two Ravens flew high over, but the Pelicans were far
away, and all as when we went away, leaving the
young to struggle or get a death-chill as they might.
So much for the pious Pelican, the emblem of reckless
devotion — a common, dirty little cock Sparrow would
put them all to shame.

We brought away only the 5 rotten eggs. About
half of the old Pelicans had horns on the bill.

On the island we saw a flock of White-winged Cross-
bills and heard a Song-sparrow. Gulls were seen about.
The white spruce cones littered the ground and were
full of seed, showing that no Redsquirrel was on the
island.

We left successfully by dashing out exactly as we
came, between the two dangerous currents, and got
well away.

Spruce net-float 20 x 5 x J inches

CHAPTER XVII

THE THIRD BUFFALO HUNT

The Indians are simply large children, and further,
no matter how reasonable your proposition, they take
a long time to consider it and are subject to all kinds
of mental revulsion. So we were lucky to get away
from Fort Smith on July 4 with young Francois
Bezkya as guide. He was a full-blooded Chipewyan
Indian, so full that he had knowledge of no other
tongue, and Billy had to be go-between.

Bezkya, the son of my old patient, came well rec-
ommended as a good man and a moose-hunter. A
"good man" means a strong, steady worker, as canoe-
man or portager. He may be morally the vilest out-
cast unhung; that in no wise modifies the phrase
"he is a good man." But more: the present was a
moose-hunter; this is a wonderfully pregnant phrase.
Moose-hunting by fair stalking is the pinnacle of
woodcraft. The Crees alone, as a tribe, are supposed to
be masters of the art; but many of the Chipewyans
are highly successful. One must be a consummate
trailer, a good shot, have tireless limbs and wind and
a complete knowledge of the animal's habits and ways
of moving and thinking. One must watch the wind,
without ceasing, for no hunter has the slightest chance
of success if once the Moose should scent him. This

116

THE THIRD BUFFALO HUNT

last is fundamental, a three-times sacred principle.
Not long ago one of these Chipowyans went to con-
fessional. Although a year had passed since last he
got cleaned up, he could think of nothing to confess.
Oh! spotless soul! However, under pressure of the
priest, he at length remembered a black transgression.
The fall before, while hunting, he went to the wind-

Little Buffalo River looking north. July 8, 1907

ward of a thicket that seemed likely to hold his Moose,
because on the lee, the proper side, the footing hap-
pened to be very bad, and so he lost his Moose. Yes!
there was indeed a dark shadow on his recent past.

A man may be a good hunter, i. e., an all-round
trapper and woodman, but not a moose-hunter. At
Fort Smith are two or three scores of hunters, and
yet I am told there are only three moosc-hnntcrs. The
phrase is not usually qualified; he is, or is not, a
moose-hunter. Just as a man is, or is not, an Oxford
M.A. The force, then, of the phrase appears, and
we were content to learn that young Bezkva, besides
knowing the Buffalo country, was also a good man
and a moose-hunter.

118 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

We set out in two canoes, Bezkya and Jarvis in
the small one, Billy, Selig, Preble, and I in the large
one, leaving the other police boys to make Fort Res-
olution in the H. B. steamer.

Being the 4th of July, the usual torrential rains set
in. During the worst of it we put in at Salt River
village. It was amusing to see the rubbish about the

Cornus canadensis

doors of these temporarily deserted cabins. The mid-
den-heaps of the Cave-men are our principal sources
of information about those by-gone races; the future
ethnologist who discovers Salt River midden-heaps
will find all the usual skulls, bones, jaws, teeth, flints,
etc., mixed with moccasin beads from Venice, brass
cartridges from New England, broken mirrors from
France, Eley cap-boxes from London, copper rings,
silver pins, lead bullets, and pewter spoons, and inter-
persed with them bits of telephone wires and the
fragments of gramophone discs. I wonder what they
will make of the last!

Eight miles farther we camped in the rain, reaching
the Buffalo Portage next morning at 10, and had every-
thing over its 5 miles by 7 o'clock at night.

THE THIRD BUFFALO HUNT

110

It is easily set down on paper, but the uninitiated

can scarcely realise the fearful toil of portaging. If
you are an office man, suppose you take an angular
box weighing 20 or 30 pounds; if a farmer, double the
weight, poise it on
your shoulders or
otherwise, as you
please, and carry it
half a mile on a level
pavement in cool,
bright weather, and
I am mistaken if you
do not find yourself
suffering horribly
before the end of a
quarter-mile; the
last part of the trip
will have been made
in something like
mortal agony. Re-
member, then, that
each of these port a -
gers was carrying
150 to 2.30 pounds
of broken stuff, not half a mile, but several miles,
not on level pavement, but over broken rocks, up
banks, through quagmires and brush — in short, across
ground that would be difficult walking without any
burden, and not in cool, clear weather, but through
stifling swamps with no free hand to ease the myriad
punctures of his body, face, and limbs whenever un-

Rainn

120 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

sufficiently protected from the stingers that roam in
clouds. It is the hardest work I ever saw performed
by human beings ; the burdens are heavier than some
men will allow their horses to carry.

Yet all this frightful labour was cheerfully gone
through by white men, half-breeds, and Indians alike.
They accept it as a part of their daily routine. This

x»

Linnsea americana

fact alone is enough to guarantee the industrial future
of the red-man when the hunter life is no longer pos-
sible.

Next day we embarked on the Little Buffalo River,
beginning what should have been and would have
been a trip of memorable joys but for the awful,
awful, awful — see Chapter IX.

The Little Buffalo is the most beautiful river in
the whole world except, perhaps, its affluent, the
Nyarling.

This statement sounds like the exaggeration of mere
impulsive utterance. Perhaps it is; but I am writing
now after thinking the matter over for two and a half
years, during which time I have seen a thousand

THE TIII1M) P.ITFALO IITXT 121

others, including the upper Thames, the Afton, the
Seine, the Amo, the Tiber, the Iser, the Spree, and the
Rhine.

A hundred miles long is this uncharted stream; fifty
feet its breadth of limpid tide; eight feet deep, crystal
clear, calm, slow, and deep to the margin. A steamer
could ply on its placid, unobstructed Hood, a child
could navigate it anywhere. The heavenly beaut y of

Cranberry fruit and flowers

the shores, with virgin forest of fresh, green spruces
towering a hundred h'ct on every side, or varied in open
places with long rows and thick-set hedges of the gor-
geous, wild, red, Athabaska rose, made a stream that
most canoemen, woodmen, and naturalists would
think without a fault or flaw, and with every river
beauty in its highest possible degree. Not trees and
flood alone had strenuous power to win our souls; at
every point and bank, in every bend, were living crea-
tures of the north, Beaver and Bear, not often seen
but abundant; Moose tracks showed from time to time
and birds were here in thousands. Rare winter birds,
as we had long been taught to think them in our south-
ern homes; here we found them in their native land
and heard not a few sweet melodies, of which in far-
away Ontario, New Jersey, and Maryland we had beeo

122

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

favoured only with promising scraps when wintry
clouds were broken by the sun. Nor were the old
familiar ones away — Flicker, Sapsucker, Hairy Wood-
pecker, Kingfisher, Least Flycatcher, Alder Flycatcher,
Robin, Crow, and Horned Owl were here to mingle
their noises with the stranger melodies
and calls of Lincoln Sparrow, Fox Spar-
row, Olive-sided Flycatcher, Snipe, Rusty
Blackbird, and Bohemian Waxwing.

Never elsewhere have I seen Horned
Owls so plentiful. I did not know that
there were so many Bear and Beaver left;
I never was so much impressed by the in-
spiring raucous clamour of the Cranes,
the continual spatter of Ducks, the cries
of Gulls and Yellowlegs. Hour after hour
we paddled down that stately river ad-
ding our 3 J miles to its 1 mile speed;
each turn brought to view some new and
lovelier aspect of bird and forest life. I
never knew a land of balmier air; I never
felt the piney breeze more sweet; no-
where but in the higher mountains is there such a tonie
sense abroad; the bright woods and river reaches
were eloquent of a clime whose maladies are mostly
foreign-born. But alas! I had to view it all swaddled,
body, hands, and head, like a bee-man handling his
swarms. Songs were muffled, scenes were dimmed by
the thick, protecting, suffocating veil without which
men can scarcely live.
Ten billion dollars would be all too small reward,

Stellaria

tttttt Buff*'0 *,vfP

E" V -en-.--"

C^i'Sl^K^

Sketch Map of 5-mil<- porl ige from Great
Slave River to Little Buffalo River

Bi E. T. MMi Juno. 1*07

124

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

a trifle totally inadequate to compensate, mere nominal
recognition of the man who shall invent and realise a
scheme to save this earthly paradise from this its damn-
ing pest and malediction.

f»|H«

Buffalo and Nyarling Rivers

By E. T. Seton, July, 1907

CHAPTER XVIII

DOWN TO FUNDAMENTALS

At 8.30 a. M., 10 miles from the portage, we came to
the Clew-ee, or White Fish River; at 6.30 p. m. made
the Sass Tessi, or Bear River, and here camped, hav-
ing covered fully 40 miles.

Now for the first time we were all together, with
leisure to question our guide and plan in detail. But
all our mirth and hopes were rudely checked by Cor-
poral Selig, who had entire charge of the commissary,
announcing that there were only two days' rations left.

In the dead calm that followed this bomb-shell we
all did some thinking; then a rapid fire of questions
demonstrated the danger of having a guide who does
not speak our language.

It seems that when asked how many days' rations we
should take on this Buffalo hunt he got the idea how
many thin* to the Buffalo. He said five, meaning five
days each way and as much time as we wished there.
We were still two days from our goal. Now what r
should we do? Scurry I Kick to the fort or go ahead
and trust to luck? Every man present voted "go
ahead on half rations."

We had good, healthy appetites; half rations was

veritable hardship; hut our hollow insides made hearty
laughing. Preble disappeared as Boon as we camped,

125

126 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and now at the right time he returned and silently
threw at the cook's feet a big 6-pound Pike. It was
just right, exactly as it happens in the most satisfac-
tory books and plays. It seems that he always carried
a spoon-hook, and went at once to what he rightly
judged the best place, a pool at the junction of the
two rivers. The first time he threw he captured the
big fellow. Later he captured three smaller ones in
the same place, but evidently there were no more.

That night we had a glorious feast; every one had as
much as he could eat, chiefly fish. Next morning we
went on 4J miles farther, then came to the mouth of
the Nyarling Tessi, or Underground River, that joins
the Buffalo from the west. This was our stream; this
was the highway to the Buffalo country. It was a
miniature of the river we were leaving, but a little
quicker in current. In about 2 miles we came to a
rapid, but were able to paddle up. About 5 miles
farther was an immense and ancient log-jamb that
filled the stream from bank to bank for 190 yards.
What will be the ultimate history of this jamb? It is
added to each year, the floods have no power to move
it, logs in water practically never rot, there is no pros-
pect of it being removed by natural agencies. I sus-
pect that at its head the river comes out of a succession
of such things, whence its name Underground River.

Around this jamb is an easy portage. We were far
now from the haunts of any but Indians on the winter
hunt, so were surprised to see on this portage trail
the deep imprints of a white man's boot. These were
made apparently within a week, by whom I never

DOWN TO FUNDAMENTALS 127

learned. On the bank not far away we saw a Lynx
pursued overhead by two scolding Redsquirrels.

Lunch consisted of what remained of the Pike, but
that afternoon Bezkya saw two Brown Cranes on a
meadow, and manoeuvring till they were in line killed
both with one shot of his rifle at over 100 yards, the
best shot I ever knew an Indian to make. Still, two

Double lodge in bank 12 yards long, 4J feet high-
July 7, 1907

Cranes totalling 1G pounds gross is not enough meat to
last five men a week, so we turned to our Moose-hunter.
"Yes, he could get a Moose." He went on in the
small canoe with Billy; we were to follow, and if we
passed his canoe leave a note. Seven miles above the
log-jamb, the river forked south and west; here a
note from the guide sent us up the South Fork; later
we passed his canoe on the bank and knew thai he had
landed and was surely on his way "to market ." What
a comfortable feeling it was to remember that Bezkya
was a moose-hunter! We left word and travelled till
7, having come 11 miles up from the river's mouth.
Our supper that night was Crane, a little piece of bread
each, seme soup, and some tea.

128 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

At 10 the hunters came back empty-handed. Yes,
they found a fresh Moose track, but the creature was
so pestered by clouds of that he travelled con-
tinually as fast as he could against the wind. They
followed all day but could not overtake him. They
saw a Beaver but failed to get it. No other game was
found.

Things were getting serious now, since all our food
consisted of 1 Crane, 1 tin of brawn, 1 pound of bread,
2 pounds of pork, with some tea, coffee, and sugar,
not more than one square meal for the crowd, and we
were 5 men far from supplies, unless our hunting proved
successful, and going farther every day.

Next morning (July 9) each man had coffee, one
lady's finger of bread, and a single small slice of bacon.
Hitherto from choice I had not eaten bacon in this
country, although it was a regular staple served at
each meal. But now, with proper human perversity,
I developed an extraordinary appetite for bacon. It
seemed quite the most delicious gift of God to man.
Given bacon, and I was ready to forgo all other foods.
Nevertheless, we had divided the last of it. I cut my
slice in two, revelled in half, then secretly wrapped the
other piece in paper and hid it in the watch-pocket of
my vest, thinking "the time is in sight when the whole
crowd will be thankful to have that scrap of bacon
among them." (As a matter of fact, they never got
it, for five days later we found a starving dog and he
was so utterly miserable that he conjured that scrap
from the pocket next my heart.)

We were face to face with something like starvation

DOWN TO FUNDAMENTALS 129

now; the game seemed to shun us and our store of
victuals was done. Yet no one talked of giving up or
going back. We set out to reach the Buffalo country,
and reach it we would.

Thai morning we got 7 little Teal, so our lunch was
sure, but straight Teal without accompaniments is nol
very satisfying; we all went very hungry. And with
one mind we all thought and talked about the good
dinners or specially fine food we once had had. Selig's
dream of bliss was a porterhouse steak with a glass of
foaming beer; Jarvis thought champagne and roast
turkey spelt heaven just then; I thought of my home
breakfasts and the Beaux-Arts at New York; but Billy
said he would he perfectly happy if he could have one
whole bannock all to himself. Preble said nothing.

CHAPTER XIX ,

WHITE MAN AND RED. MEAT, BUT
NOTHING MORE

There was plenty of hollow hilarity but no word of
turning back. But hold! yes, there was. There was
one visage that darkened more each day, and finally
the gloomy thoughts broke forth in words from the
lips of — our Indian guide. His recent sullen silence
was now changed to open and rebellious upbraiding.
"He didn't come here to starve. He could do that
at home. He was induced to come by a promise of
plenty of flour." All of which was perfectly true.
But, he went on, "We were still 1| days from the
Buffalo, and we were near the head of navigation; it
was a case of tramp through the swamp with our beds
and guns, living on the country as we went, and if we
didn't have luck the Coyotes and Ravens would."

Before we had time to discuss this prospect, a decid-
ing step was announced by Jarvis. He was under
positive orders to catch the steamer Wrigley at Fort
Resolution on the evening of July 10. It was now
mid-day of July 9, and only by leaving at once and
travelling all night could he cover the intervening
60 miles.

So then and there we divided the remnants of food
evenly, for "Bezkya was a moose-hunter."

130

WHITE MAN AND RED 131

Then Major Jarvis and Corporal Selig boarded the
smaller canoe. We shook hands warmly, and I at
least had a lump in my throat; they were such good
fellows in camp, and to part this way when we espe-
cially felt bound to stick together, going each of us
on a journey of privation and peril, seemed especially
hard; and we were so hungry. But we were living
our lives. They rounded the bend, we waved good-
bye, and I have never seen them since.

Hitherto I was a guest; now I was in sole command,
and called a council of war. Billy was stanch and
ready to go anywhere at any cost. So was Preble.
Bezkya was sulky and rebellious. Physically, I had
been at the point of a total breakdown when I left
home; the outdoor life had been slowly restoring me,
but the last few days had weakened me sadly and I
was not fit for a long expedition on foot. But of one
thing I was sure, we must halt till we got food. A
high wind was blowing and promised some respite to
the Moose from the little enemy that sings except
when he stings, so I invited Bezkya to gird up his
loins and make another try for Moose.

Nothing loath, he set off with Billy. I marked them
well as they went, one lithe, sinewy, active, animal-
eyed; the other solid and sturdy, following doggedly,
keeping up by sheer blundering strength. I could not
but admire them, each in his kind.

Two hours later I heard two shots, and toward
evening the boys came back slowly, tired but happy,
burdened with the meat, for Bezkya nxis a moose-
hunter.

132 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Many shekels and gladly would I have given to have
been on that moose hunt. Had I seen it I could have
told it. These men, that do it so well, never can tell
it. Yet in the days that followed I picked up a few
significant phrases that gave glimpses of its action.

Through the crooked land of endless swamp this son
of the woods had set out "straightaway west." A
big track appeared crossing a pool, seeming fresh.
"No! he go by yesterday; water in track not muddy."
Another track was found. "Yes, pretty good; see
bite alder. Alder turn red in two hours; only half
red." Follow long. "Look out, Billy; no go there;
wrong wind. Yes, he pass one hour; see bit willow
still white. Stop; he pass half-hour; see grass still
bend. He lie down soon. How know? Oh, me know.
Stand here, Billy. He sleep in thick willow there."

Then the slow crawl in absolute stillness, the long
wait, the betrayal of the huge beast by the ear that
wagged furiously to shake off the winged blood-
suckers. The shot, the rush, the bloody trail, the pause
in the opening to sense the foe, the shots from both
hunters, and the death.

Next day we set out in the canoe for the Moose,
which lay conveniently on the river bank. After push-
ing through the alders and poling up the dwindling
stream for a couple of hours we reached the place two
miles up, by the stream. It was a big bull with no
bell, horns only two-thirds grown but 46 inches across;
the tips soft and springy; one could stick a knife
through them anywhere outside of the basal half.

WHITE MAN AND RED 133

Bezkya says they arc good to cat in this stage; but
we had about 700 pounds of good meat so did not
try. The velvet on the horns is marked by a scries of
concentric curved lines of white hair, across the lines
of growth; these, I take it, correspond with times of
check by chill or hardship.

We loaded our canoe with meat and pushed on
toward the Buffalo country for two miles more up
the river. Navigation now became very difficult on
account of alders in the stream. Bezkya says that
only a few hundred yards farther and the river comes
from underground. This did not prove quite correct,
for I went half a mile farther by land and found no
change.

Here, however, we did find some Buffalo tracks; one
went through our camp, and farther on were many,
but all dated from the spring and were evidently six
weeks old.

There were no recent tracks, which was discouraging,
and the air of gloom over our camp grew heavier.
The weather had been bad ever since we left Fort
Smith, cloudy or shower}\ This morning for the first
time the day dawned with a clear sky, but by noon it
was cloud}' and soon again raining. Our diet con-
sisted of nothing but Moose meat and tea; we had
neither sugar nor salt, and the craving for farinaceous
food was strong and growing. We were what the
natives call "flour hungry"; our three-times-a-day
prospect of Moose, Moose, Moose was becoming loath-
some. Bezkya was openly rebellious onco more, and
even my two trusties were very, very glum. Still, the

134 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

thought of giving up was horrible, so I made a prop-
osition: "Bezkya, you go out scouting on foot and
see if you can locate a band. I'll give you five dollars
extra if you show me one Buffalo."

At length he agreed to go provided I would set out
for Fort Resolution at once unless he found Buffalo
near. This was leaving it all in his hands. While I
was considering, Preble said: "I tell you this delay
is playing the mischief with our Barren-Ground trip;
we should have started for the north ten days ago,"
winch was in truth enough to settle the matter.

I knew perfectly well beforehand what Bezkya's
report would be.

At 6.30 he returned to say he found nothing but old
tracks. There were no Buffalo nearer than two days'
travel on foot, and he should like to return at once to
Fort Resolution.

There was no further ground for debate ; every one
and everything now was against me. Again I had to
swallow the nauseating draught of defeat and retreat.

"We start northward first thing in the morning,"
I said briefly, and our third Buffalo hunt was over.

These, then, were the results so far as Buffalo were
concerned : Old tracks as far down as last camp, plenty
of old tracks here and westward, but the Buffalo, as
before on so many occasions, were two days' travel
to the westward.

During all this time I had lost no good opportunity
of impressing on the men the sinfulness of leaving a
camp-fire burning and of taking life unnecessarily;
and now I learned of fruit from this seeding. That

WHITE MAN AND RED L35

night Bezkya was in a better humour, for obvious
reasons; he talked freely and told me how that day he
came on a large Blackbear which at once took to a
tree. The Indian had his rifle, but thought, 'lI can
kill him, yet I can't stop to skin him or use his meat/'
so left him in peace.

This is really a remarkable incident, almost unique.
I am glad to believe that I had something to do with
causing such unusual forbearance.

Blackfoot lodge, Calgary

CHAPTER XX

ON THE NYARLING

All night it rained; in the morning it was dull, foggy,
and showery. Everything was very depressing, espe-
cially in view of this second defeat. The steady diet
of Moose and tea was debilitating; my legs trembled
under me. I fear I should be a poor one to stand
starvation, if so slight a brunt should play such havoc
with my strength.

We set out early to retrace the course of the Nyarling,
which in spite of associated annoyances and disap-
pointments will ever shine forth in my memory as the
"Beautiful River."

It is hard, indeed, for words to do it justice. The
charm of a stream is always within three feet of the
surface and ten feet of the bank. The broad Slave,
then, by its size wins in majesty but must lose most
all its charm; the Buffalo, being fifty feet wide, has
some waste water; but the Nyarling, half the size, has
its birthright compounded and intensified in manifold
degree. The water is clear, two or three feet deep at
the edge of the grassy banks, seven to ten feet in mid-
channel, without bars or obstructions except the two
log-jambs noted, and these might easily be removed.
The current is about one mile and a half an hour, so
that canoes can readily pass up or down; the scenery

136

July camp on the Great Slave Lake

Tin- Nyarling Tessl or Underground River

ON THE NYARLING

137

varies continually and is always beautiful. Every-
thing that I have said of the Little Buffalo applil

the Nyarling with fourfold force, because of
varied scenery and greater range of bird and other
life Sometimes, like the
larger stream, it pn
long, straight vista of a
quarter-mile through a sol-
emn aisle in the foresl of
mighty spruce trees thai
tower a hundred feet in
heighl .all black wit h
gloom, green with health,
and gray with moss.

onetimes its channel

winds in and oul of open

grassy meadows that are
dot t ed wi t h clumps of
rounded tp in an

lish park. Now it nar-
rows to a deep and sinu-
ous bed, through alder

rank and reaching that
they meet overhead and

form a .-hade of golden

n: and again it widens out into reedy lake-, the
summer home of countless Dud. I Tattlers

. I Kill . Rails, Blackbirds, and half
a hundred of the lesser tril Sometimes the f<
ground is rounded m. kinnikinnik in snowy

Bower, or again a far-strung growth of the needle

138

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

bloom, richest and reddest of its tribe — the Athabaska
rose. At times it is skirted by tall poplar woods where
the claw-marks on the trunks are witness of the many

Blackbears, or some tamarack
swamp showing signs and proofs
that hereabouts a family of
Moose had fed to-day, or by a
broad and broken trail that told
of a Buffalo band passing weeks
ago. And while we gazed at
scribbled records, blots, and
marks, the loud "slap plong" of
a Beaver showed from time to
time that the thrifty ones had dived at our approach.
On the way up Jarvis had gone first in the small
canoe; he saw 2 Bears, 3 Beaver, and 1 Lynx; I saw
nothing but birds. On the way down, being alone,
the luck came my way.
At the first camp, after he left, we heard a loud

Cornel

Ground Juniper, Juniperus sabina

"plong" in the water near the boat. Bezkya glided
to the spot; I followed — here was a large Beaver
swimming. The Indian fired, the Beaver plunged,
and we saw nothing more of it. He told Billy, who
told me, that it was dead, because it did not slap with

ON THE NYARLING

L39

Its tail as it went down. Next night another splashed
by our boat.

This morning as we paddled we saw a little stream,
very muddy, trickling into the river. Bezkya said,
"Beaver at work on his
dam there." Now that we
were really heading for
flour, our Indian showed
up well. He was a strong
paddler, silent but appar-
ently cheerful, ready at all
times to work. As a hunter
and guide he was of course
first class.

About 10.30 we came on
a large Beaver sunning him-
self on a perch built of mud
just above the water. He
looked like a huge chest-
nut Muskrat. He plunged
at once but came up again
30 yards farther down,
took another look, and dived, to be seen no more.

At noun we reached our old camp, the last where all
had been together. Here we put up a monument on
a tree, and were mortified to think we had not done so
at our farthest camp.

There were numbers of Ycllowlegs breeding here:
we were surprised to see them resting on trees or flying
from one branch to another.

A Great Gray-owl sitting on a stump was a con-

Ledurn groenlandicum

140

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

spicuous feature of our landscape view; his white
choker shone like a parson's.

Early in the morning we saw a Kingbird. This was
our northernmost record for the species.

We pressed on all day, stopping only for our usual
supper of Moose and tea, and about 7 the boys were

ready to go on again. They
paddled till dark at 10. Camped
in the rain, but every one was
well pleased, for we had made
40 miles that day and were
that much nearer to flour.

This journey had brought
us down the Nyarling and 15
miles down the Buffalo.

It rained all night; next
morning the sun came out once
or twice but gave it up, and
clouds with rain sprinklings
kept on. We had struck a
long spell of wet; it was very trying, and fatal to
photographic work.

After a delicious, appetising, and inspiring breakfast
of straight Moose, without even salt, and raw tea, we
pushed on along the line of least resistance, i.e., tow-
ard flour.

A flock of half a dozen Bohemian Waxwings were

seen catching flies among the tall spruce tops; probably

all were males enjoying a stag party while their wives

were home tending eggs or young.

Billy shot a female Bufflehead Duck; she was so

Two Robins chasing a Red-
tail from its own nest.
July 12, 1907

ON THE NYARLING 141

small — only 8 inches in slack girth — that she could
easily have entered an ordinary Woodpecker hole. So
that it is likely the species nest in the abandoned holes
of the Flicker. A Redtailed Hawk had its nest on a
leaning spruce above the water. It was a most strik-
ing and picturesque object; doubtless the owner was
very well pleased with it, but a pair of Robins militant
attacked him whenever he tried to go near it.

A Beaver appeared swimming ahead; Bezkya seized
his rifle and removed the top of its head, thereby spoil-

A windlass al the mouth of Little
Buffalo River. July 12, 1907

ing a splendid skull but securing a pelt and a new
kind of meat. Although I was now paying his wages,
the Beaver did not belong to me. According to the
custom of the country it belonged to Bezkya. He
owed me nothing but service as a guide. Next meal
we had Beaver tail roasted and boiled; it was very
delicious, but rather rich and heavy.

At 3.45 we reached Gnat Slave Lake, but found the
sea so high that it would have been very dangerous to
attempt crossing to Fort Resolution, faintly to be seen
a dozen miles away.

We waited till 7, then ventured forth; it was only
11 miles across and we could send that canoe at 5£

142

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

miles an hour, but the wind and waves against us were
so strong that it took 3J hours to make the passage.
At 10.30 we landed at Resolution and pitched our
tent among 30 teepees with 200 huge dogs that barked,
scratched, howled, yelled, and fought around, in, and
over the tent-ropes all night long. Oh, how different
from the tranquil woods of the Nyarling!

Birch bark
wavey quill rim

Pierre's water bucket,
10 in. high

Birch bark pail
spruce root wrapping

Athabaska Rose

CHAPTER XXI

FORT RESOLUTION AND ITS FOLK

Early next morning Preble called on his old acquaint-
ance, Chief Trader C. Harding, in charge of the post.
Whenever we have gone to H. B. Co. officials to do
business with them, as officers of the company, we
have found them the keenest of the keen; but when-
ever it is their personal affair, they are hospitality
out-hospitalled. They give without stint; they lavish
their kindness on the stranger from the big world.
In a few minutes Preble hastened back to say that we
were to go to breakfast at once.

That breakfast, presided over by a charming woman
and a genial, generous man, was one that will not be
forgotten while I live. Think of it, after the hard
scrabble on the Nyarling! We had real porridge and
cream, coffee with veritable sugar and milk, and au-
thentic butter, light rolls made of actual flour, un-
questionable bacon and potatoes, with jam and toast
— the really, truly things — and we had as much as
we could cat! We behaved rather badly — intemper-
ately, I fear — we stopped only when forced to do it,
and yet both of us came away with appetites.

It was clear that I must get some larger craft than
my canoe to cross the lake from Fort Resolution and
take the 1,300 pounds of provisions that had come on
the steamer. Harding kindly offered the loan of a

143

144 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

York boat, and with the help chiefly of Charlie McLeod
the white man, who is interpreter at the fort, I secured
a crew to man it. But oh, what worry and annoy-
ance it was! These Great Slave Lake Indians are
like a lot of spoiled and petulant children, with the
added weakness of adult criminals; they are inconsist-
ent, shiftless, and tricky. Pike, Whitney, Buffalo Jones,
and others united many years ago in denouncing them
as the most worthless and contemptible of the human
race, and since then they have considerably deterio-
rated. There are exceptions, however, as will be seen
by the record.

One difficulty was that it became known that on the
Buffalo expedition Bezkya had received three dollars
a day, which is government emergency pay. I had
agreed to pay the regular maximum, two dollars a
day with presents and keep. All came and demanded
three dollars. I told them they could go at once in
search of the hottest place ever pictured by a diseased
and perfervid human imagination.

If they went there they decided not to stay, because
in an hour they were back offering to compromise. I
said I could run back to Fort Smith (it sounds like
nothing) and get all the men I needed at one dollar
and a half. (I should mortally have hated to try.)
One by one the crew resumed. Then another bomb-
shell. I had offended Chief Snuff by not calling and
consulting with him; he now gave it out that I was
here to take out live Musk-ox, which meant that all
the rest would follow to seek their lost relatives.
Again my crew resigned. I went to see Snuff. Every

Sunset on Slave- River

Fori Resolution

FORT RESOLUTION AND ITS FOLK 145

man has his price. Snuffs price was half a pound of
tea; and the crew came back, bringing, however,
several new modifications in our contract.

Taking no account of several individuals that joined
a number of times but finally resigned, the following,
after they had received presents, provisions, and ad-
vance pay, were the crew secured to man the York boat
on the "3 or 4" days' run to Pike's Portage and then
carry my goods to the first lake.

Weeso. The Jesuits called him Louison d'Noire,
but it has been corrupted into a simpler form. " Wee-
so" they call it, ''Weeso" they write it, and for
u Weeso" you must ask, or you will not find him. So
I write it as I do "Sousi" and "Yum," with the true
local colour.

He was a nice, kind, simple old rabbit, not much
use and not over-strong, but he did his best, never
murmuring, and in all the mutinies and rebellions that
followed he remained staunch, saying simply, "I gave
my word I would go, and I will go." He would make
a safe guide for the next part)' headed for Aylmer Lake,
lie alone did not ask rations for his wife during his
absence; he said, "It didn't matter about her, as they
bad been married for a long time now." He asked as
presents a pair of my spectacles, as his eyes were fail-
ing, and a marble axe. The latter I sent him later,
but he could not understand why glasses that helped
me should not help him. He acted as pilot and guide,
knowing next to nothing about either.

Francois d'Noire, son <<f Weeso, a quiet, steady, in-
offensive chap, but not strong; nevertheless, having

146 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

been there once with us, he is now a competent guide
to take any other party as far as Pike's Portage.

C, a sulky brute and a mischief-maker. He joined
and resigned a dozen times that day, coming back on
each occasion with a new demand.

S., grandson of the chief, a sulky good-for-noth-
ing; would not have him again at any price; besides
the usual wages, tobacco, food, etc., he demanded extra
to support his wife during his absence. The wife, I
found, was a myth.

T., a sulky good-for-nothing.

Beaulieu, an alleged grandson of his grandfather.
A perpetual breeder of trouble; never did a decent
day's work the whole trip. Insolent, mutinous, and
overbearing, till I went for him with intent to do bodily
mischief; then he became extremely obsequious. Like
the rest of the foregoing, he resigned and resumed at
irregular intervals.

Yum (William) Freesay; the best of the lot; a
bright, cheerful, intelligent, strong Indian boy. He
and my old standby, Billy Loutit, did virtually all the
handling of that big boat. Any one travelling in that
country should secure Yum if they can. He was
worth all the others put together.

Bess-hath or crooked knife. 10£ in. long.

Property of Weeso. Made of a file.

July 16, 1907

CHAPTER XXII
THE CIIIPEWYAXS, THEIR SPEECH AND WRITING

Sweeping generalisations are always misleading, there-
fore I offer some now, and later will correct them by
specific instances.

These Chipewyans are dirty, shiftless, improvident,
and absolutely honest. Of the last we saw daily in-
stances in crossing the country. Valuables hung in
trees, protected only from weather, birds, and beasts,
but never a suggestion that they needed protection
from mankind. They are kind and hospitable among
themselves, but grasping in their dealings with white
men, as already set forth. While they are shiftless
and lazy, they also undertake the frightful toil of hunt-
ing and portaging. Although improvident, they have
learned to dry a stock of meat and put up a scaffold
of white fish for winter use. As a tribe they are mild
and inoffensive, although they are the original stock
from which the Apaches broke away some hundreds
of years ago before settling in the south.

They have suffered greatly from diseases imported
by white men, but not from whiskey. The Hudson's
Bay Company has always refused to supply liquor to
the natives. What little of the evil traffic there has
been was tho work of free-traders. But the Royal
Mounted Police have most rigorously and effectually

147

148 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

suppressed this. Nevertheless, Chief Trader Anderson
tells me that the Mackenzie Valley tribes have fallen
to less than half their numbers during the last century.

It is about ten years since they made the treaty
that surrendered their lands to the government. They
have no reserves, but are free to hunt as their fathers
did.

I found several of the older men lamenting the
degeneracy of their people. "Our fathers were hunt-
ers and our mothers made good moccasins, but the
young men are lazy loafers around the trading posts,
and the women get money in bad ways to buy what
they should make with their hands."

The Chipewyan dialects are peculiarly rasping, click-
ing, and guttural, especially when compared with Cree.

Every man and woman and most of the children
among them smoke. They habitually appear with a
pipe in their mouth and speak without removing it,
so that the words gurgle out on each side of the pipe
while a thin stream goes sizzling through the stem.
This additional variant makes it hopeless to suggest on
paper any approach to their peculiar speech.

The Jesuits tell me that it was more clicked and
guttural fifty years ago, but that they are successfully
weeding out many of the more unpleasant catarrhal
sounds.

In noting down the names of animals, I was struck
by the fact that the more familiar the animal the
shorter its name. Thus the Beaver, Muskrat, Rabbit,
and Marten, on which they live, are respectively Tsa,
Dthen, Ka, and Tha. The less familiar (in a daily

THE CHIPEWYANS 149

sense) Red Fox and Weasel are Nak-ee-they, Noon-
dee-a, Tel-ky-lay; and the comparatively scarce Musk-
ox and little Weasel, At-huh-le-jrr-ray and Tel-ky-
lay-azzy. All of which is clear and logical, for the
name originally is a description, but the softer parts and
sharp angles arc worn down by the attrition of use —

A. Typical tocpoc of Plains Indians. B. Chipewyan tccpcc with smoke
Baps of a separate piece. C. Modern Chipewyan teepee with tent
addition

the more use they have for a word the shorter it is
bound to get. In this connection it is significant that
"to-day" is To-ho-chin-nay, and "to-morrow" Kom-
pay.

The Chipewyan teepee is very distinctive; fifty years
ago all were of caribou leather, now most are of cotton;
not for lack of caribou, but because the cotton does
not need continual watching to save it from the dogs.
Of the fifty teepees at Fort Chipewyan, one or two
only were of caribou but many had caribou-skin tops,
as these are less likely to burn than those of cotton.

The way they manage the smoke is very clever; in-
stead of the two fixed flaps, as among the Plains River
Indians, these have a separate hood which is easily
set on any side (see Til). Chief Squirrel lives in a
lodge that is an admirable combination of the white

150 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

men's tent with its weather-proof roof and the Indian
teepee with its cosy fire. (See cut, p. 149.)

Not one of these lodges that I saw, here or elsewhere,
had the slightest suggestion of decoration.

For people who spend their whole life on or near the
water these are the worst boatmen I ever saw. The
narrow, thick paddle they make, compared with the

broad, thin Iroquois

paddle, exactly ex-
pressed the difference

a. Chipewyan paddle, b. Iroquois between the two as

canoemen. The Chip-
ewyan's mode of using it is to sit near the middle and
make 2 or perhaps 3 strokes on one side, then change
to the other side for the same, and so on. The line
made by the canoes is an endless zigzag. The idea of
paddling on one side so dexterously that the canoe
goes straight is yet on an evolutionary pinnacle be-
yond their present horizon.

In rowing, their way is to stand up, reach forward
with the 30-pound 16J-foot oar, throw all the weight
on it, falling backward into the seat. After half an
hour of this exhausting work they must rest 15 to 20
minutes. The long, steady, strong pull is unknown
to them in every sense.

Their ideas of sailing a boat are childish. Tacking
is like washing, merely a dim possibility of their very
distant future. It's a sailing wind if behind; other-
wise it's a case of furl and row.

By an ancient, unwritten law the whole country is
roughly divided among the hunters. Each has his

THE CIIIPEWYANS

151

own recognised huntLg ground, usually a given river
valley, that is his exclusive and hereditary property;
another hunter may follow a wounded animal into it,
but not begin a hunt there or set a trap upon it.

Chipewyan canoe, Smith Landing

Most of their time is spent at the village, but the
hunting ground is visited at proper seasons.

Fifty years ago they commonly went half naked.
How they stood the insects I do not know, and when
asked they merely grinned significantly; probably
they doped themselves with grease.

This religious training has had one bad effect. In-
spired with horror of being " naked" savages, they do
not run any sinful risks, even to take a bath. In all

Dogrib canoe

the six months I was among them I never saw an
Indian's bare arms, much less his legs. One day after
the fly season was over I took advantage of the lovely
weather and water to strip off and jump into a lake
by our camp; my Indians modestly turned their backs
until I had finished.

152 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

If this mock modesty worked for morality one might
well accept it, but the old folks say that it operates
quite the other way. It has at all events put an end
to any possibility of them taking a bath.

Maybe as a consequence, but of this I am not sure,
none of these Indians swim. A large canoe-load upset
in crossing Great Slave Lake a month after we arrived
and all were drowned.

Like most men wTho lead physical lives, and like all
meat-eating savages, these are possessed of a natural
proneness toward strong drink.

An interesting two-edged boomerang illustration of
this was given by an unscrupulous whiskey trader.
While travelling across country he ran short of pro-
visions but fortunately came to a Chipewyan lodge.
At first its owner had no meat to spare, but when he
found that the visitor had a flask of whiskey he offered
for it a large piece of Moose meat; when this was re-
fused he doubled the amount, and after another refusal
added some valuable furs and more meat till one hun-
dred dollars worth was piled up.

Again the answer was "no."

Then did that Indian offer the lodge and everything
he had in it, including his wife. But the trader was
obdurate.

"Why didn't you take it," said the friend whom he
told of the affair; "the stuff would have netted five
hundred dollars, and all for one flask of whiskey."

"Not much," said the trader, "it was my last flask.
I wouldn't 'a' had a drop for myself. But it just shows
how fond these Indians are of whiskey."

THE CHIPEWYANS L53

While some of the Chipewyans sliow fine physique,
and man)r do great feats of strength and endurance,
they seem on the whole inferior to whites.

Thus the strongest portager on the river is said to be
Billy Lout it's brother George. At Athabaska Land-
ing I was shown a house on a hill, half a mile away, to
which he had carried on his back 450 pounds of flour
without stopping. Some said it was only 350 pounds,
but none made it less. As George is only three-quar-
ters white, this is perhaps not a case in point. But dur-
ing our stay at Fort Smith we had several athletic
meets of Indians and whites, the latter represented by
Preble and the police boys, and no matter whether
in running, walking, high jumping, broad jumping,
wrestling, or boxing, the whites were ahead.

As rifle-shots, also, the natives seem far inferior.
In the matter of moose-hunting only, as already noted,
the red-man was master. This, of course, is a matter
of life-long training. A white man brought up to it
would probably do as well as an Indian even in this
very Indian department.

These tribes are still in the hunting and fishing stage;
they make no pretence of agriculture or stock-raising.
Except that the)' wear white man's clothes and are
most of them nominally Roman Catholics, they live
as their fathers did 100 years ago. But there is one
remarkable circumstance that impressed me more and
more — practically every Chipewyan reads and writes
his own language.

This miracle was inborn on me slowly. On the first
Buffalo hunt we had found a smoothened pole stuck in

154 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

the ground by the trail. It was inscribed as here-
with.

"What is that Sousi?" "It's a notice from Chief
William that Swiggert wants men on the portage,"
and he translated it literally: "The fat white man
5 scows, small white man 2 scows, gone down, men
wanted for Rapids, Johnnie Bolette this letter for you.
(Signed) Chief William."

Each of our guides in succession had shown a simi-
lar familiarity with the script of his people, and many

Si-m»/ WJSc~> 7«* ««*»».«* tS£ow>.q«nt<t»n,

Chipewyan inscription with interpretation

times we found spideresque characters on tree or stone
that supplied valuable information. They could, how-
ever, tell me nothing of its age or origin, simply "We
all do it; it is easy."

At Fort Resolution I met the Jesuit fathers and got
the desired chance of learning about the Chipewyan
script.

First, it is not a true alphabet, but a syllabic; not
letters, but syllables, are indicated by each character;
73 characters are all that are needed to express the
whole language. It is so simple and stenographic that
the fathers often use it as a rapid way of writing
French. It has, however, the disadvantage of am-
biguity at times. Any Indian boy can learn it in a
week or two; practically all the Indians use it. What
a commentary on our own cumbrous and illogical spell-

THE CfflPEWYANS 155

ing, which takes even a bright child two or three years
bo learn!

Now, I already knew something of the Crce syllabic
invented by the Rev. James Evans, Methodist mis-
sionary on Lake Winnipeg in the '40s, but Cree is a

< a

V e

A i

> o

" TKA

<Tao

V' en

A* in

£>' on

• Ed-

< ba

V be

A bi

> bo

' S'i-»

C da

U de

Hdi

3 do

'UTJd>

b ka

q ke

P ki

d ko

'TJS%

d la

\| le

Jl»

bio

ecbV

|_ ma

~~\ me

r ml

_J mo

» L'!-*

Q. na

TJ ne

0* "•

U DO

♦ V>Q>

\i ra

'V re

^ ri

J- ro

A ^nfl.

•-> sa

*-, se

r> si

/-• so

' 0">S'f-'

>y*

^ ye

^ yf

^ yo

• ><HO

<5 za

*9 ze

Gl z»

G> zo

, ^^^

£ cha

UU che

m chi

3 cho

h >U'&

L» dha

O dhe

P dhi

U dho

e <^<c

'Otha

'H the

'P thi

'U tho

o VG0

C tta

U' tte

O'tti

D'tto

' *V'V'U>

G ttha

U "he

n tthi

D ttho

••<jo

G f=a

o t^

Q tei

D ?o

>s(c<>

Chipewyan s

yllabic alphabet

much less complex language; only 36 characters are
Deeded, and these are so simple that an intelligent Cree
can learn to write his own language in one day.

In support of this astounding statement I give, first,
the 36 characters which cover every fundamental sound
in their language and then a sample of application.
While crude and inconcise, it was so logical and simple

156

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

that in a few years the missionary had taught practi-
cally the whole Cree nation to read and write. And

SYLLABARIUM

A |

FINALS

o w

p v

1 P

T U

X T

K P

N K

cn n

- CK

m n

C M

N "D

D N

s S

n s

-h

5T»

A dot gives a "w" sound

EXAMPLES.

atokwa VD^' pimatisiw ALHr^o

maskanaw ~"lnb>Q_° astumitik <K»CT

f^ makwach ~lt>'~ ustootin <3nDnD

pimachehewam ALPAV'C kakwi qt=>:

The syllabic alphabet of the Cree language

Lord Dufferin, when the matter came before him dur-
ing his north-west tour, said enthusiastically: " There
have been men buried in Westminster Abbey with
national honours whose claims to fame were far less

THE CHIPEWYANS 157

than those of this devoted missionary, the man who
taught a whole nation to read and write."

These things I knew, and now followed up my
Jesuit source of information.

"Who invented this?"

"I don't know for sure. It is in general use."

''Was it a native idea?"

"Oh, no; some white man made it."

"Where? Here or in the south?"

"It came originally from the Crees, as near as we
can tell."

"Was it a Cree or a missionary that first thought
of it?"

"I believe it was a missionary."

"Frankly, now, wasn't it invented in 1840 by Rev.
James Evans, Methodist missionary to the Crees on
Lake Winnipeg?"

Oh, how he hated to admit it, but he was too honest
to deny it.

"Yes, it seems to me it was some name like that.
'Je ne sais pas.'"

Reader, take a map of North America, a large one,
and mark off the vast area bounded by the Saskatche-
wan, the Rockies, the Hudson Bay, and the Arctic circle,
and realise that in this region, as lar<2;c as continental
Europe outside of Russia and Spain, one simple, earnest
man, inspired by the love of Him who alone is perfect
love, invented and popularised a method of writing
that in a few years — in less than a generation, indeed —
has turned the whole native population from ignorant
illiterates to a people who arc proud to read and write

158 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

their own language. This, I take it, is one of the great-
est feats of a civiliser. The world has not yet heard of,
much less comprehended, the magnitude of the achieve-
ment ; when it does there will be no name on the Can-
adian roll of fame that will stand higher or be blazoned
more brightly than that of James Evans the missionary.

« A 4* * 4

7 0* »>

(1) Tinne. (2) Peter Squirrel. (3) Tsa
or Beaver. (4) Sass or Bear. (5)
Den-nee or Moose. (6) Et-then or
Deer

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION

It sounds like the opening of an epic poem but it
is not.

The Chipcwyan calender is divided in two seasons —
dog season and canoe season. What the horse is to
the Arab, what the Reindeer is to the Lap and the Yak
to the Thibetan, the dog is to the Chipewyan for at
least one-half of the year, until it is displaced by the
canoe.

During dog season the canoes are piled away some-
what carelessly or guarded only from the sun. During
canoe season the dogs are treated atrociously. Let
us remember, first, that these are dogs in every doggy
sense, the worshipping servants of man, asking noth-
ing but a poor living in return for abject love and tire-
less service, as well as the relinquishment of all family
ties and natural life. In winter, because they cannot
serve without good food, they are well fed on fish that
is hung on scaffolds in the fall in time to be frozen
before wholly spoiled. The journeys they will make
and the devoted service they render at this time is
none too strongly set forth in Butler's "Cerf Vola"
and London's "Call of the Wild." It is, indeed, the
dog alone that makes life possible during the white
half-year of the boreal calender. One cannot be many

159

160 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

days in the north without hearing tales of dog prowess,
devotion, and heroism. A typical incident was related
as follows by Thomas Anderson :

Over thirty years ago, Chief Factor George McTavish
and his driver, Jack Harvey, were travelling from East
Main to Rupert's House (65 miles) in a blizzard so
thick and fierce that they could scarcely see the leading
dog. He was a splendid, vigorous creature, but all at
once he lay down and refused to go. The driver struck
him, but the factor reproved the man, as this dog had
never needed the whip. The driver then went ahead
and found open water only a few feet from the dogs,
though out of sight. After that they gave the leader
free rein, surrendered themselves to his guidance, and
in spite of the blinding blizzard they struck the flag-
pole of Rupert's between 11 and 12 that night, only a
little behind time.

Many of the wild Wolf traits still remain with them.
They commonly pair; they bury surplus food; the
mothers disgorge food for the young; they rally to
defend one of their own clan against a stranger; and
they punish failure with death.

A thousand incidents might be adduced to show
that in the north there is little possibility of winter
travel without dogs and little possibility of life with-
out winter travel.

But April comes with melting snows and May with
open rivers and brown earth everywhere; then, in-
deed, the reign of the dog is over. The long yellow-
birch canoe is taken down from the shanty roof or from
a sheltered scaffold, stitched, gummed, and launched;

Till': DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION nil

and the dogs are turned loose to fend for themselves.
Gratitude for past services or future does not enter
into the owner's thoughts to secure a fair allowance of
food. All their training and instinct prompts them to
hang about camp, where, kicked, stoned, beaten, and
starved, they steal and hunt as best they may, until
the sad season of summer is worn away and merry
winter with its toil and good food is back once more.

From leaving Fort MacMurray we saw daily the
starving dog, and I fed them when I could. At Smith
Landing the daily dog became a daily fifty. One big
fellow annexed us. "I found them first," he seemed
to sa}r, and no other dog came about our camp without
a fight.

Of course he fared well on our scraps, but many a
time it made my heart ache and my food-store suffer
to see the gaunt skeletons in the bushes, just beyond
his sphere of influence, watching for a chance to rush
in and secure a mouthful of — anything to stay the
devastating pang. My journal of the time sets forth
in full detail the diversity of their diet, not only every
possible scrap of fish and meat or whatsoever smelled
of fish or meat, but rawhide, leather, old boots, flour-
bags, potato-peelings, soap, wooden fragments of meat-
boxes, rags that have had enough animal contact to
be odorous. An ancient dish-cloth, succulent with ac-
tive service, was considered a treat to be bolted whole;
and when in due course the cloth was returned to
earth, it was intact, bleached, purged, and purified as
by chemic fires and ready for a new round of benev-
olences.

162 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

In some seasons the dogs catch Rabbits enough to
keep them up. But this year the Rabbits were gone.
They are very clever at robbing fish-nets at times,
but these were far from the fort. Reduced to such
desperate straits for food, what wonder that canni-
balism should be common! Not only the dead, but the
sick or disabled of their own kind are torn to pieces and
devoured. I was told of one case where a brutal driver
disabled one of his dogs with heavy blows ; its compan-
ions did not wait till it was dead before they feasted.
It is hard to raise pups because the mothers so often
devour their own young; and this is a charge I never
heard laid to the Wolf, the ancestor of these dogs,
which shows how sadly the creature has been de-
teriorated by contact with man. There seems no
length to which they will not go for food. Politeness
forbids my mentioning the final diet for which they
scramble around the camp. Never in my life before
have I seen such utter degradation by the power of
the endless hunger pinch. Nevertheless — and here I
expect the reader to doubt, even as I did when first I
heard it, no matter how desperate their straits — these
gormandisers of unmentionable filth, these starvelings,
in their dire extremity will turn away in disgust from
duck or any other web-footed water-fowl.

Billy Loutit had shot a Pelican; the skin was care-
fully preserved and the body guarded for the dogs,
thinking that this big thing, weighing 6 or 7 pounds,
would furnish a feast for one or two. The dogs knew
me, and rushed like a pack of Wolves at sight of com-
ing food. The bigger ones fought back the smaller.

THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION 163

I threw the prize, but, famished though they were,
they tinned away as a man might turn from a roasted
human hand. One miserable creature, a mere skele-
ton, sneaked forward when the stronger ones were
-one, pulled out tin' entrails at last, and devoured them

though he hated them.

I can offer no explanation. But the Hudson's Bay
men fell me it is always so, and I am afraid the re-
membrance of the reception accorded my bounty that
day hardened my heart somewhat in the days that fol-
lowed.

On the Nyarling we were too far from mankind to
be bothered with dogs, but at Fort Resolution we re-
entered their country. The following from my journal
records the impression after our enforced three days'
stay:

"Tuesday, July 16, 1907. — Fine day for the first time
since July 3. At last we pulled out of Fort Resolution
(9.40 a. m.). I never was so thankful to leave a place
where every one was kind. I think the maddest
cynophile would find a cure here. It is the worst
dog-cursed spot I ever saw; not a square yard but is
polluted by them; no article can be left on the ground
but will be carried off, torn up, or defiled; the four
corners of our tent have become regular stopping
places for the countless canines, and are disfigured
and made abominable, so that after our escape there
will be needed many days of kindly rain for their
purification.

"There certainly are several hundred dogs in the vil-
lage; there are about 50 teepees and houses with 5 to 15

164 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

dogs at each, and 25 each at the mission and H. B. Co.
In a short walk, about 200 yards, I passed 86 dogs.

"There is not an hour or ten minutes of day or night
that is not made hideous with a dog-fight or chorus of
yelps. There are about six different clans of dogs,
divided as their owners are, and a Dogrib dog entering
the Yellow-knife or Chipewyan part of the camp is
immediately set upon by all the residents. Now the
clansmen of the one in trouble rush to the rescue and
there is a battle. Indians of both sides join in with
clubs to belabour the fighters, and the yowling and
yelping of those discomfited is painful to hear for long
after the fight is over. It was a battle like this, I have
been told, which caused the original split of the tribe,
one part of which went south to become the Apaches
of Arizona. The scenes go on all day and all night in
different forms. A number of dogs are being broken
in by being tied up to stakes. These keep up a heart-
rending and peculiar crying, beginning with a short
bark which melts into a yowl and dies away in a nerve-
racking wail. This ceases not day or night, and half
a dozen of these prisoners are within a stone's throw
of our camp.

"The favourite place for the clan fights seems to be
among the guy-ropes of our tent ; at least half a dozen
of these general engagements take place every night
while we try to sleep.

"Everything must be put on the high racks eight feet
up to be safe from them; even empty tins are carried
off, boots, hats, soap, etc., are esteemed most toothsome
morsels, and what they can neither eat, carry off, nor

THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION 165

destroy, they defile with elaborate persistency and pre-
cision."

A common (rick of the Indians when canoe season
arrives is to put all the family and one or two of
the best dogs in the canoes, then push away from the
shore, leaving the rest behind. Those so abandoned
come howling after the canoes, and in unmistakable
pleadings beg the heartless owners to take them in.
But the canoes push off toward the open sea, aiming
to get out of sight. The dogs howl sadly on the
shore, or swim after them till exhausted, then drift
back to the nearest land to begin the summer of
hardship.

If Rabbits are plentiful they get along; failing these
they catch mice or fish; when the berry season comes
they eat fruit; the weaker ones are devoured by their
brethren ; and when the autumn arrives their insensate
owners generally manage to come back and pick up
the survivors, feeding them so that they are ready for
travel when dog-time begins, and the poor faithful
brutes, bearing no grudge, resume at once the service
of their unfeeling masters.

All through our voyage up Great Slave Lake we
daily heard the sad howling of abandoned dogs, and
nightly, we had to take steps to prevent them steal-
ing our food and leathers. More than once in the dim
light, I was awakened by a rustle, to see sneaking from
my tent the gray, wolfish form of some prowling dog,
and the resentment I felt at the loss inflicted, was never
more than to make me shout or throw a pebble at
him.

1GG THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

One day, as we voyaged eastward (July 23) in the
Tal-thel-lay narrows of Great Slave Lake, we met 5
canoes and 2 York boats of Indians going west. A
few hours afterward as we were nooning on an island
(we were driven to the islands now) there came a long
howling from the rugged main shore, a mile away to
the east of us; then it increased to a chorus of wailing,
and we knew that the Indians had that morning aban-
doned their dogs there. The wailing continued, then
we saw a tiny black speck coming from the far shore.
When it was half-way across the ice-cold bay we could
hear the gasps of a tired swimmer. He got along fairly,
dodging the cakes of ice, until within about 200 yards,
when his course was barred by a long, thin, drifting
floe. He tried to climb on it, but was too weak, then
he raised his voice in melancholy howls of despair.
I could not get to him, but he plucked up heart at
length, and feebly paddling went around till he found
an opening, swam through and came on, the slow-
est dog swimmer I ever saw. At last he struck bot-
tom and crawled out. But he was too weak and
ill to eat the meat that I had ready prepared for
him. We left him with food for many days and sailed
away.

Another of the dogs that tried to follow him across
was lost in the ice; we heard his miserable wailing
moans as he was carried away, but could not help him.
My Indians thought nothing of it and were amused at
my solicitude.

A couple of hours later we landed on the rugged east
coast to study our course through the ice. At once

THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION 1G7

we were met by four dogs that trotted along the shore
to where we landed. They did not seem very gaunt;
one, an old yellow female, carried something in her
mouth; this she never laid down, and growled savagely
when any of the others came near. It proved to be
the blood-stained leg of a new-killed dog, yellow like
herself.

As we pulled out a big black-and-white fellow looked
at us wistfully from a rocky ledge; memories of Bingo,
whom he resembled not a little, touched me. I threw
him a large piece of dried meat. He ate it, but not
ravenously. He seemed in need, not of food, but of
company.

A few miles farther on we again landed to study the
lake; as we came near we saw the dogs, not four but
six, now racing to meet us. I said to Preble : "It seems
to me it would be the part of mercy to shoot them all."
He answered: "They are worth nothing now, but you
shoot one and its value would at once jump up to one
hundred dollars. Every one knows everything that is
done in this country. You would have six hundred
dollars' damages to pay when you got back to Fort
Resolution."

I got out our stock of fresh fish. The Indians, seeing
my purpose, said: "Throw it in the water and see them
dive." I did so and found that the}' would dive into
several feet of water and bring up the fish without fail.
The yellow female was not here, so I suppose she had
Stayed to finish her bone.

When we came away, heading for the open hike the
dogs followed us as far as they could, then gathering

168 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

on a flat rock, the end of a long point, they sat down,
some with their backs to us; all raised their muzzles
and howled to the sky a heart-rending dirge.
I was thankful to lose them in the distance.

Dog-toggle or clog, Smith Landing

CHAPTER XXIV

THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE

Hitherto I have endeavoured to group my observa-
tions on each subject; I shall now for a change give
part of the voyage across Great Slave Lake much as
it appears in my journal.

"July 16, 1907.— Left Fort Resolution at 9.40 a. m.
in the York boat manned by 7 Indians and Billy Lout it,
besides Preble and myself, 10 in all; ready with mast
and sail for fair wind, but also provided with heavy
lG-foot oars for head-winds and calm. Harding says
we should make Pike's Portage in 3 or 4 days.

"Reached Moose Island at 11.30 chiefly by rowing;
camped. A large dog appeared on the bank. Free-
say recognised it as his and went ashore with a club.
We heard the dog yelping. Freesay came back saying:
'He'll go home now.'

"At 1.30 went on but stopped an unnecessary half-
hour at a saw-mill getting plank for scats. Readied
the Big, or Main, River at 4.10; stopped for tea again
till 4.50, then rowed up the river till .5.40; rested 15
minutes, rowed till G.30; rested 15 minutes, rowed till
7; then got into the down current of the north branch
or mouth of the Slave; down then we drifted till S,
then landed and made another meal, the fourth to-day,
and went on drifting at 8.30.

169

170 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

"At 9.30 we heard a Ruffed Grouse drumming, the
last of the season, also a Bittern pumping, some Cranes
trumpeting, and a Wood Frog croaking. Snipe were
still whirring in the sky. Saw Common Tern.

"At 10.15, still light, we camped for the night and
made another meal. The Indians went out and shot 2
Muskrats, making 7 the total of these I have seen in
the country. This is the very lowest ebb. Why are
they so scarce? Their low epoch agrees with that of
the Rabbits.

"July 17. — Rose at 6 (it should have been 4, but the
Indians would not rouse); sailed north through the
marsh with a light east breeze. At noon this changed
to a strong wind blowing from the north, as it has done
with little variation ever since I came to the country.
These Indians know little of handling a boat and re-
sent any suggestion. They maintain their right to
row or rest, as they please, and land when and where
they think best. We camped on a sand-bar and waited
till night; most exasperating when we are already be-
hind time. The Indians set a net, using for tie-
strings the bark of the willow (Salix bebbiana). They
caught a Jack-fish. Reached Stony Island at night,
after many stops and landings. The Indians land
whenever in doubt and make a meal (at my expense),
and are in doubt every two hours or so. They eat by
themselves and have their own cook. Billy cooks for
us, i.e., Preble, Weeso, and myself. Among the crew
I hear unmistakable grumblings about the food, which
is puzzling, as it is the best they ever had in their lives;
there is great variety and no limit to the quantity.

THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE 171

"Made 6 meals and 17 miles to-day, rowing 7, sail-
ing 10.

"July 18. — Left Stony Island at 6.55; could not get
the crew started sooner; sailing with a light breeze
which soon died down and left us on a sea of glass. I
never before realised how disgusting a calm could be.

" Camped at 9.15 on one of the countless, unnamed,
uncharted islands of the lake. It is very beautiful in
colour, red granite, spotted with orange and black
lichen on its face, and carpeted with caribou moss and
species of cetraria, great patches of tripe-de-roche,
beds of saxifrage, long trailers, and masses of bear-
berry, empetrum, ground cedar, juniper, cryptograma,
and many others; while the trees, willow, birch,
and spruce are full of character and drawing. Sky
and lake are in colour worthy of these rich details, the
bird life is well represented and beautiful; there is
beauty everywhere, and 'only man is vile.'

" I am more and more disgusted with my Indian crew;
the leader in mischief seems to be young Beaulieu.
Yesterday he fomented a mutiny because I did not
give them 'beans,' though I had given them far more
than promised, and beans were never mentioned.
Still, he had discovered a bag of them among my
next month's stores, and that started him.

" To-day, when sick of seeing them dawdling two
hours over a meal when there are 6 meals a day, I
g- ,ve the order to start. Beaulieu demanded insolently:
' Jh! who's boss?' My patience was worn out. I
said: 'I am, and I'll show you right now/ and pro-
ceeded to do so, meaning to let him have my fist with

172 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

all the steam I could get back of it. But he did not
wait. At a safe distance he turned and in a totally
different manner said: 'I only want to know; I thought
maybe the old man (the guide). I'll do it, all ri, all
ri,' and he smiled and smiled.

"Oh! why did I not heed Pike's warning to shun
all Beaulieus; they rarely fail to breed trouble. If I
had realised all this last night before coming to the
open lake I would have taken the whole outfit back to
Resolution and got rid of the crowd. We could do
better with another canoe and two men, and at least
make better time than this (17 miles a day).

"Yesterday the Indian boys borrowed my canoe,
my line, and in my time, at my expense, caught a big
fish, but sullenly disregarded the suggestion that I
should have a piece of it.

"Each of them carries a Winchester and blazes away
at every living thing that appears. They have volleyed
all day at every creature big enough to afford a mouth-
ful— Ducks, Gulls, Loons, Fish, Owls, Terns, etc. — but
have hit nothing. Loons are abundant in the water
and are on the Indians' list of Ducks, therefore good
food. They are wonderfully expert at calling them.
This morning a couple of Loons appeared flying far
to the east. The Indians at once began to mimic
their rolling whoo-ooo-whoo-ooo; doing it to the life.
The Loons began to swing toward us, then to circle,
each time nearer. Then all the callers stopped except
Claw-hammer, the expert; he began to utter a peculiar
cat-like wail. The Loons responded and dropped their
feet as though to alight. Then at 40 yards the whole

THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE 173

crew blazed away with their rifles, doing no damage
whatever. The Loons turned away from these unholy
callers, and were Done the worse, but wiser.

"This scene was repeated many times during the
voyage. When the Loons are on the water the Ind-
ians toll them by flashing a tin pan from the bushes
behind which the toller hides till the bird is in range.
I saw many clever tollings but I did not see a Loon
killed.

" July 19. — I got up at 4, talked strong talk, so actu-
ally got away at 5.30. Plenty grumbling, many meals
to-day, with many black looks and occasional remarks
in English: 'Grub no good.' Three days ago these
men were starving on one meal a day, of fish and bad
flour; now they have bacon, dried venison, fresh fish,
fresh game, potatoes, flour, baking powder, tea, coffee,
milk, sugar, molasses, lard, cocoa, dried apples, rice,
oatmeal, far more than was promised, all ad libitum,
and the best that the II. B. Co. can supply, and yet they
grumble. There is only one article of the food store
to which they have not access ; that is a bag of beans
which I am reserving for our own trip in the north
where weight counts for so much. Bcaulieu smiles
when I speak to him, but I know he is at the bottom
of all this mischief. To day they made 6 meals and
17 miles — this is magnificent.

"About 7.30 a pair of Wild Geese (Canada) appeared
on a bay. The boys let off :i whoop of delight and
rushed on them in canoe and in boat as though these
were their deadliest enemies. I did not think much of
it until I noticed that the Geese would not fly, and it

174 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

dawned on me that they were protecting their young
behind their own bodies. A volley of shot-guns and
Winchesters and one noble head fell flat on the water,
another volley and the gander fell, then a wild skurry-
ing, yelling, and shooting for some minutes resulted in
the death of the two downlings.

"I could do nothing to stop them. I have trouble
enough in matters that are my business and this they
consider solely their own. It is nothing but kill, kill,
kill every living thing they meet. One cannot blame
them in general, since they live by hunting, and in this
case they certainly did eat every bit of all four birds,
even to their digestive organs with contents; but it
seemed hard to have the devotion of the parents made
their death trap when, after all, we were not in need of
meat.

11 July 20. — Rose at 4; had trouble on my hands at
once. The Indians would not get up till 5, so we did
not get away till 6.20. Beaulieu was evidently in-
structing the crew, for at the third breakfast all to-
gether (but perhaps 2) shouted out in English, 'Grub
no good.'

"I walked over to them, asked who spoke; no one
answered; so I reviewed the bargain, pointed out
that I had given more than agreed, and added: 'I
did not promise you beans, but will say now that if
you work well I'll give you a bean feast once in a
while.'

"They all said in various tongues and ways, 'That's
all ri.' Beaulieu said it several times, and smiled
and smiled.

THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKH 175

"If the mythical monster that dwells in the bottom
of Great Slave Lake had reached up its long neck now
and taken this same half-breed son of Belial, I should
have said, 'Well done, good and faithful monster/
and the rest of our voyage would have been happier.
Oh! what a lot of pother a beneficent little bean can
make.

"At noon that day Billy announced that it was time
to give me a lobstick; a spruce was selected on a slate
island and trimmed to its proper style, then inscribed :

E. T. Seton

E. A. Preble

W. C. Loutit

20 July

1907

"Now I was in honour bound to treat the crew. I
had neither the power nor the wish to give whiskey.
Tobacco was already provided, so I seized the op-
portunity of smoothing things by announcing a feast
of beans, and this, there was good reason to believe,
went far in the cause of peace.

"At 1.30 for the first time a fair breeze sprang up
or rather lazily got up. Joyfully then we raised our
mast and sail. The boys curled up to sleep, except
Beaulieu. He had his fiddle and now he proceeded
to favour us with 'A Life on the Ocean Wave,' 'The
Campbells are Coming/ etc., in a manner worthy of
his social position and of his fiddle. When not in
use this aesthetic instrument (in its box) knocks about
on deck or underfoot, among pots and pans, ex-

17G

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

posed in all weather; no one seems to fear it will be
injured.

"At 7 the usual dead calm was restored. We
rowed till we reached Et-then Island at 8, covering two
miles more or 32 in all to-day. I was unwilling to

My Lobstick on a slate island,
Great Slave Lake

stop now, but the boys said they would row all day
Sunday if I would camp here, and then added, 'And
if the wind rises to-night we'll go on.'

"At 10 o'clock I was already in bed for the night,
though of course it was broad daylight. Preble had

THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE 177

put out a line of mouse-traps, when the cry was raised
by the Indians now eating their 7th meal: 'Chim-pal-
lel Hurra! Chilla queer1 ('Sailing wind! Hurra, boys!').

"The camp was all made, but after such a long calm
a sailing wind was too good to miss. In 10 minutes
('very tent was torn down and bundled into the boat.
At 10.10 we pulled out under a fine promising breeze;
but alas! for its promise! at 10.30 the last vestige of
it died away and we had to use the oars to make the
nearest land, where we tied up at 11 p. m.

"That night old Weeso said to me, through Billy,
the interpreter: 'To-morrow is Sunday, therefore he
would like to have a prayer-meeting after breakfast.'

"'Tell him,' I said, 'that I quite approve of his
prayer-meeting, but also it must be understood that if
the good Lord sends us a sailing wind in the morning
that is His way of letting us know we should sail.'

"This sounded so logical that Weeso meekly said,
'All right.'

"Sure enough, the morning dawned with a wind and
we got away after the regular sullen grumbling. About
10.20 the usual glassy calm set in and Weeso asked
me for a piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote some-
thing in Chipewyan on the sheet I gave, then returned
the pencil and resumed his pilotic stare at the horizon,
for his post was at the rudder. At length he rolled the
paper into a ball, and when I seemed not observing
dropped it behind him overboard.

"'What is the meaning of that, Billy?' I whispered.

"'He's sending a prayer to Jesus for wind.' Half
an hour afterward a strong hcad-w'md sprang up,

178 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and Weeso was severely criticised for not specifying
clearly what was wanted.

"There could be no question now about the propri-
ety of landing. Old Weeso took all the Indians off to
a rock, where, bareheaded and in line, they kneeled
facing the east, and for half an hour he led them in
prayer, making often the sign of the cross. The head-
wind died away as they came to the boat and again
we resumed the weary rowing, a labour which all were
supposed to share, but it did not need an expert to see
that Beaulieu, Snuff, and Terchon merely dipped their
oars and let them drift a while ; the real rowing of that
cumbrous old failure of a sailboat was done by Billy
Loutit and Yum Freesay."

Platygobio gracilis

CHAPTER XXV

CROSSING THE LAKE— ITS NATURAL HISTORY

All day long here, as on the Nyarling, I busied myself
with compass and sketch-book, making the field notes,
sketches, and compass surveys from which my various
maps were compiled; and Preble let no chance go by
of noting the changing bird and plant life that told us
we quit the Canadian fauna at Stony Island and now
were in the Hudsonian zone.

This is the belt of dwindling trees, the last or north-
most zone of the forest, and the spruce trees showed
everywhere that they were living a life-long battle,
growing and seeding, but dwarfed by frost and hard-
ships. But sweet are the uses of adversity, and the
stunted sprucelings were beautified, not uglified, by
their troubles. I never before realised that a whole
country could be such a series of charming little Jap-
anese gardens, with tiny trees, tiny flowers, tiny fruits,
and gorgeous oriental rugs upon the earth and rocks
between.

I photographed one group of trees to illustrate their
dainty elfish dwarfishness, but realising that no one
could guess the height without a scale, I took a second
of the same with a small Indian sitting next it.

YVeeso is a kind old soul; so far as I could see he
took no part in the various seditions, but he was not

179

Map of Great Slave Lake

Pike's Portage

Founded chiefly nn J. W. Tyrrell'j m»p of 1900

182 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

an inspiring guide. One afternoon he did something
that made a final wreck of my confidence. A thunder-
storm was rumbling in the far east. Black clouds
began travelling toward us; with a line of dark and
troubled waters below, the faint breeze changed around

Oot-sing-gree-ay Island Cliff on N. E. end of Et-then Island

and became a squall. Weeso looked scared and beck-
oned to Freesay, who came and took the helm. Noth-
ing happened.

We were now running along the north shore of Et-
then, where are to be seen the wonderful 1,200-foot
cliffs described and figured by Captain George Back in
1834. They are glorious ramparts, wonderful in size
and in colour, marvellous in their geological display.

Flying, and evidently nesting among the dizzy tow-
ers, were a few Barn-swallows and Phcebe-birds.

This cliff is repeated on Oot-sing-gree-ay, the next
island, but there it is not on the water's edge. It gives
a wonderful echo which the Indians (not to mention
myself) played with, in childish fashion.

On Sunday, 21 July, we made a new record, 6 meals
and 20 miles.

On July 22 we made only 7 meals and 11 miles and
camped in the narrows Tal-thel-lay. These are a
quarter of a mile wide and have a strong current run-

The Japanese landscape about Great Slave Lake

Dwarf spruce, about fbur feet high, on edge of the Barren-Grounds

CROSSING THE LAKE li-

ning westerly. This is the place which Back says is a
famous fishing ground and never freezes over, even in
the hardest winters. Here, as a1 all points, I noted
the Indian names, not only because they were appro-
priate, but in hopes of serving the next traveller. I
found an unexpected difficulty in writing them down.
viz.: no matter how I pronounced them, old Weeso
and Freesay, my informants, would say, ''Yes, that
is right." This, I learned, was out of politeness; no
matter how you mispronounce their words it is good
form to say, "That's it; now you have it exactly."

The Indians were anxious to put out a net overnight
here, as they could count on getting a few Whitefifih;
so we camped at 5.15. It is difficult to convey to
an outsider the charm of the word "whitefish." Any
northerner will tell you that it is the only fish that is
perfect human food, the only food that man or dog
never wearies of, the only lake food that conveys no
disorder no matter how long or freely it is used. It
is so delicious and nourishing that there is no fish in
the world that can even come second to it. It is as
far superior in all food qualities to the finest Salmon or
Trout as a first-prize, gold-medalled, nut-fed thorough-
bred Sussex bacon-hog is to the roughest, toughest,
boniest old razor-backed land-pike that ever ranged
the woods of Arkansas.

That night the net yielded 3 Whitefish and 3 Trout.
The latter, being 4 to 8 pounds each, would have been
reckoned great prizes in any other country, but now
all attention was on the Whitefish. They certainly
were radiantly white, celestial in color; their backs

184 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

were a dull frosted silver, with here and there a small
electric lamp behind the scales to make its jewels
sparkle. The lamps alternated with opals increased
on the side; the bellies were of a blazing mother-of-
pearl. It would be hard to imagine a less imaginative
name than "white" fish for such a shining, burning
opalescence. Indian names are usually descriptive,

Tha-sess San-dou-ay two miles away (Swallow Island)

but their name for this is simply "The Fish." All
others are mere dilutes and cheap imitations, but the
Coregonus is at all times and par excellence "The Fish."

Nevertheless, in looking at it I could not help feeling
that this is the fat swine, or the beef Durham of its
kind. The head, gills, fins, tail, vital organs and bones
all were reduced to a minimum and the meat parts
enlarged and solidified, as though they were the prod-
uct of ages of careful breeding by man to produce a
perfect food fish, a breeding that has been crowned
with the crown of absolute success.

The Indians know, for the best of reasons, the just
value of every native food. When Rabbits abound
they live on them but do not prosper; they call it
"starving on rabbits." When Caribou meat is plenty
they eat it, but crave flour. When Moose is at hand
they eat it, and are strong. When Jack-fish, Sucker,
Conies, and Trout are there, they take them as a vari-
ant ; but on Whitefish, as on Moose, they can live with-

CROSSING THE LAKE 185

out loathing, and be strong. The Indian who has his
scaffold hung with Whitefish when winter comes, is
accounted rich.

"And what," says the pessimist, "is the fly in all this
precious ointment?" Alas! It is not a game fish;
it will not take bait, spoon, or fly, and its finest prop-
erties vanish in a few hours after capture.

The Whitefish served in the marble palaces of other
lands is as mere dish-water to champagne, when com-
pared with the three times purified and ten times in-
tensified dazzling silver Corcgonus as it is landed on the
bleak shores of those far-away icy lakes. So I could
not say 'No' to the Indian boys when they wanted to
wait here, the last point at which they could be sure
of a catch.

That night (22d July) five canoes and two York
boats of Indians landed at the narrows. These were
Dogribs of Chief VitaPs band; all told they numbered
about thirty men, women, and children ; with them were
twenty-odd dogs, which immediately began to make
trouble. When one is in Texas the topic of conversa-
tion is, "How are the cattle?" in the Klondike, "How
is your claim panning out?" and in New York, "How
are you getting on with your novel?" On Great Slave
Lake you say, "Where are the Caribou?" The In-
dians could not tell; they had seen none for weeks,
but there was still much ice in the east end of the lake
which kept them from investigating. They had plenty
of dried Caribou meat but were out of ten and tobacco.
I had come prepared for this sort of situation, and soon
we had a fine stock of dried venison.

186 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

These were the Indians whose abandoned dogs made
so much trouble for us in the days that followed.

At 4 p. m. of 23d of July we were stopped by a long
narrow floe of broken ice. Without consulting me the
crew made for the shore.

It seemed they were full of fears: "What if they
should get caught in that floe, and drift around for
days? What if a wind should arise (it had been
glassy calm for a week)? What if they could not get
back?" etc., etc.

Preble and I climbed a hill for a view. The floe was
but half a mile wide, very loose, with frequent lanes.

"Preble, is there any reason why we should not
push through this floe using poles to move the cakes? "

"None whatever."

On descending, however, I found the boys preparing
to camp for "a couple of days," while the ice melted
or drifted away somewhere.

So I said, "You get right into this boat now and
push off; we can easily work our way through." They
made no reply, simply looked sulkier than ever, and
proceeded to start a fire for meal No. 5.

"Weeso," I said, "get into your place and tell your
men to follow."

The old man looked worried and did nothing. He
wanted to do right, but he was in awe of his crew.

Then did I remember how John MacDonald settled
the rebellion on the river.

"Get in there," I said to Preble and Billy. "Come
on, Weeso." We four jumped into the boat and pro-
ceeded to push off with all the supplies.

CROSSING THE LAKE L87

Authorities differ as to the time it took for the crew
to make up their minds. Two seconds and eleven
seconds are perhaps the extremes of estimate. They
came jumping aboard as fast as they could.

We attacked the floe, each with a lodge-pole; that is,
Billy and Preble did in the how, while Treesay and
1 did at the rear; and in thirty-five minutes we had
pushed through and were sailing the open sea.

The next day we had the same scene repeated with
[ess intensity, in this case because Freesay sided with
me. What would I not give to have had a crew of
white men. A couple of stout Norwegian sailors would
have done far better than this whole outfit of reds.

When we stopped for supper No. 1 a tiny thimble-
ful of down on two pink matches ran past, and at once
the mother, a Peetweet, came running in distress to
save her young. The brave Beaulieu fearlessly seized
a big stick and ran to kill the little one. I shouted
out/'Stnp that," in tones that implied that I owned the
heaven, the earth, the sea, and all that in them is, but
could not have saved the downling had it not leaped
into the water and dived out of sight. It came up two
feet away and swam to a rock of safety, where it bobbed
its latter end toward its adversaries and the open sea in
turn.

I never before knew that they could dive.

About eight o'clock we began to look for a good place
to camp and make meal No. 6. But the islands where
usually we found refuge from the dogs were without
wood, and the shores were too rugged and steep or had
no dry timber, so we kept going on. After trying one

188 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

or two places the Indians said it was only a mile to
Indian Mountain River (Der-sheth Tessy), where was a
camp of their friends. I was always glad of a reason
for pushing on, so away we went. My crew seized
their rifles and fired to let their village know we were
coming. The camp came quickly into view, and
volley after volley was fired and returned.

These Indians are extremely poor and the shots
cost 5 and 6 cents each. So this demonstration totalled
up about $2.00.

As we drew near the village of lodges the populace
lined up on shore, and then our boys whispered, "Some
white men." What a peculiar thrill it gave me! I
had seen nothing but Indians along the route so far and
expected nothing else. But here were some of my own
people, folk with whom I could talk. They proved to
be my American friend from Smith Landing, he whose
hand I had lanced, and his companion, a young English-
man, who was here with him prospecting for gold and
copper. "I'm all right now," he said, and held up the
hand with my mark on it, and our greeting was that of
white men meeting among strangers in a far foreign land.

As soon as we were ashore a number of Indians came
to offer meat for tobacco. They seemed a lot of to-
bacco-maniacs. "Tzel-twee" at any price they must
have. Food they could do without for a long time,
but life without smoke was intolerable; and they
offered their whole dried product of two Caribou, con-
centrated, nourishing food enough to last a family
many days, in exchange for half a pound of nasty,
stinking, poisonous tobacco.

CROSSING THE LAKE 189

Two weeks hence, they say, these hills will be alive
with Caribou; alas! for them, it proved a wholly er-
roneous forecast.

Y.'s guide is Sousi King Beaulieu (for pedigree, see
Warburton Pike); he knows all this country well and
gave us much information about the route. He .says
that this year the Caribou cows went north as usual, but
the bulls did not. The season was so late they did not
think it worth while; they are abundant yet at Artillery
Lake.

He recognised me as the medicine man, and took an
early opportunity of telling me what a pain he had.
Just where, he was not sure, but it was hard to bear;
he would like some sort of a pain-killer. Evidently he
craved a general exhilarator.

Next morning we got away at 7 A. M. after the usual
painful scene about getting up in the middle of the
night, which was absurd, as there was no night.

Next afternoon we passed the Great White Fall at
the mouth of Hoar Frost River; the Indians call it
Dezza Kya. If this is the Beverly Falls of Back, his
illustrator was without information; the published pic-
ture bears not the slightest resemblance to it.

At three in the afternoon of July 27th, the twelfth
day after we had set out on the "three or four day
run" from Resolution, this exasperating and seemingly
interminable voyage really did end, and we thankfully
Ik 'ached our York boat at the famous lobstiek that
marks the landing of Pike's Portage.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE LYNX AT BAY

One of the few rewarding episodes of this voyage took
place on the last morning, July 27. We were half a
mile from Charleston Harbour when one of the In-
dians said "Cheesay" (Lynx) and pointed to the south
shore. There, on a bare point a quarter mile away, we
saw a large Lynx walking quietly along. Every oar
was dropped and every rifle seized, of course, to repeat
the same old scene; probably it would have made no
difference to the Lynx, but I called out: "Hold on there!
I'm going after that Cheesay."

Calling my two reliables, Preble and Billy, we set
out in the canoe, armed, respectively, with a shotgun,
a club, and a camera.

When we landed the Lynx was gone. We hastily
made a skirmishing line in the wood where the point
joined the mainland, but saw no sign of him, so
concluded that he must be hiding on the point. Billy
took the right shore, Preble the left, I kept the middle.
Then we marched toward the point but saw nothing.
There were no bushes except a low thicket of spruce,
some 20 feet across and 3 or 4 feet high. This was too
dense to penetrate standing, so I lay down on my breast
and proceeded to crawl in under the low boughs. I
had not gone six feet before a savage growl warned me

190

THE LYNX AT BAY 191

back, and there, jusl ahead, crouched the Lynx. He
glared angrily, then ids*1 up, and I Baw, with a little
shock, that he had been crouching on the body of
another Lynx, eating it. Photography was impossible
there, so I took a stick and poked at him; he growled,
struck at the stick, but went out, then dashed across
the open for the woods. As he went I got photograph
No. 1. Now I saw the incredible wonder I had heard
of — a good runner can outrun a Lynx. Preble was
a sprinter, and before the timber 200 yards off was
reached that Lynx was headed and turned; and Preble
and Billy were driving him back into my studio. He
made several dashes to escape, but was out-manoeuvred
and driven onto the far point, where he was really
between the devils and the deep sea. Here he faced
about at bay, growling furiously, thumping his little
bobtail from side to side, and pretending he was going
to spring on us. I took photo No. 2 at 25 yards. He
certainly did look very fierce, but I thought I knew the
creature, as well as the men who were backing me. I
retired, put a new film in place, and said:

"Now, Preble, I'm going to walk up to that Lynx
and get a close photo. If he jumps for me, and he
may, there is nothing can save my beauty but you
and that gun."

Preble with characteristic loquacity says, "Go
ahead."

Then I stopped and began slowly approaching the
desperate creature we held at bay. I lis eves were
glaring green, his ears were back, his small bobtail
kept twitching from side to side, and his growls grew

192 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

harder and hissier, as I neared him. At 15 feet he
gathered his legs under him as for a spring, and 1
pressed the button getting, No. 3.

Then did the demon of ambition enter into my
heart and lead me into peril. That Lynx at bay was
starving and desperate. He might spring at me, but
I believed that if he did he never would reach me alive.
I knew my man — this nerved me — and I said to him:
"I'm not satisfied; I want him to fill the finder. Are
you ready?"

"Yep."

So I crouched lower and came still nearer, and at
12 feet made No. 4. For some strange reason, now the
Lynx seemed less angry than he had been.

"He didn't fill the finder; I'll try again," was my
next. Then on my knees I crawled up, watching the
finder till it was full of Lynx. I glanced at the beast;
he was but 8 feet away. I focused and fired.

And now, oh, wonder! that Lynx no longer seemed
annoyed; he had ceased growling and simply looked
bored.

Seeing it was over, Preble says, "Now where does
he go? To the Museum?"

" No, indeed ! " was the reply. "He surely has earned
his keep; turn him loose. It's back to the woods for
him." We stood aside; he saw his chance and dashed
for the tall timber. As he went I fired the last film,
getting No. 6; and so far as I know that Lynx is alive
and well and going yet.

I^w^hRI «0

p{S

fct»

vIm

CHAPTER XXVII

THE I AST OF THAT INDIAN CREW

Carved on the lobstick of the Landing were many
names famous in the annals of this region, Pike,
Malt crn, McKinlcy, Munn, Tyrrel among them. All
about were evidences of an ancient and modern camp —
lodge poles ready for the covers, relics and wrecks of
all sorts, fragments of canoes and sleds, and the in-
evitable stray Indian dog.

First we made a meal, of course; then I explained to
the crew thai I wanted all the stuff carried over the
portage, o{ miles, to the first lake. At once there was
a row; I was used to that. There had been a row
every morning over getting up, and one or two each
day about other details. Now the evil face of Beaulieu
showed that his tongue was at work again. But I
knew my lesson.

"You were brought to man the boat and bring my
stuff over this portage. So do it and start right now."

They started •'>', miles with heavy loads, very heavy
labour I musl admit, back then in four hours to make
another meal, and camp.

Next morning another row before they would get up
and take each another load. But canoe and every-
thing were over by noon. And then came the final
scene.

193

194 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

In all the quarrels and mutinies, old Weeso had been
faithful to me. Freesay had said little or nothing,
and had always worked well and cheerfully. Weeso
was old and weak, Freesay young and strong, and
therefore he was the one for our canoe. I decided it
would pay to subsidise Weeso to resign in favour of
the younger man. But, to be sure, first asked Freesay
if he would like to come with me to the land of the
Musk-ox. His answer was short and final, "Yes," but
he could not, as his uncle had told him not to go be-
yond this portage. That settled it. The childlike
obedience to their elders is admirable, but embarrass-
ing at times.

So Weeso went after all, and we got very well ac-
quainted on that long trip. He was a nice old chap.
He always meant well; grinned so happily when he
was praised, and looked so glum when he was scolded.
There was little of the latter to do; so far as he knew,
he did his best, and it is a pleasure now to conjure up
his face and ways. His cheery voice, at my tent door
every morning, was the signal that Billy had the
breakfast within ten minutes of ready.

"Okimow, To" (Chief, here is water), he would say
as he set down the water for my bath and wondered
what in the name of common sense should make the
Okimow need washing every morning. He himself
was of a cleaner kind, having needed no bath during
the whole term of our acquaintance.

There were two peculiarities of the old man that
should make him a good guide for the next party going
northward. First, he never forgot a place once he

THE LAST OF THAT INDIAN CREW 195

had been there, and could afterward go to it direct
from any other place. Second, he had the most won-
derful nose for firewood; no keen-eyed raven or starv-
ing wolf could go more surely to a marrow-bone in
cache, than could Weeso to the little sticks in far away
hollows or granite clefts. Again and again, when we
landed on the level or rocky shore and all hands set
out to pick up the few pencil-thick stems of creeping
birch, roots of annual plants, or wisps of grass to boil
the kettle, old Weeso would wander off by himself
and in five minutes return with an armful of the
most amazingly acceptable firewood conjured out of
the absolutely timberless, unpromising waste. I never
yet saw the camp where he could not find wood. So
he proved good stuff; I was glad we had brought him
along.

And I was equally glad now to say good-bye to the
rest of the crew. I gave them provisions for a week,
added a boiling of beans, and finalty the wonderful
paper in which I stated the days they had worked for
me, and the kind of sendee they had rendered, com-
mended Freesay, and told the truth about Bcaulieu.

"Dat paper tell about me/' said that worthy sus-
piciously.

"Yes," I said, "and about the others; and it tells
Harding to pay you as agreed."

We all shook hands and parted. I have not seen
them since, nor do I wish to meet any of them again,
except Freesay.

My advice to the next traveller would be: get white
men for the trip and one Indian for guide. When

196 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

alone they are manageable, and some of them, as seen
already, are quite satisfactory, but the more of them
the worse. They combine, as Pike says, the meanest
qualities of a savage and an unscrupulous money-
lender. The worst one in the crowd seems most readily
followed by the others.

CHAPTER XXVIII

GEOLOGICAL FORCES AT WORK

left

It seems to me that never before have I seen the
geological forces of nature so obviously at work.
Elsewhere I have seen great valleys, cliffs, islands, etc.,
held on good evidence to be the results of such and
such powers formerly very active; but here on the
Athabaska I saw daily ev-
idence of these powers in
full blast, ripping, tearing,
reconstructing, while we
looked on. piU 'JUL 1 JCJ i L (r

All the way down the %]>i\ I " llf
river we saw the process ^ „V \ 'J! '1 ,.
of undermining the bank, ' \ '/ "7// '/'':*"*V,J//^m
tearing down the trees to *i_- ^ ■_''" 'J )/ ! I j" j- %
whirl them again on dis-

, ., i ,, Bank exposing different levels, etc.

tant northern shores, thus _, . . „ . .. , „

/ Showing QOW VSTlOtll U<'<><\* r\n<\ let plowing! h.ivo

• l • ii • I 1 « Danced the level within recent years

widening the river channel

until too wide for its normal flood, which in time
drops into a deeper restricted channel, in the wide
summer waste of gravel and sand.

Ten thousand landslides take place every spring,
contributing their tons of mud to the millions that the
river is deporting to the broad catch basins called the
Athabaska and Great Slave Lakes.

197

198

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Many a tree has happened to stand on the very crack
that is the upmost limit of the slide and has in con-
sequence been ripped in two.

Many an island is wiped out and many a one made
in these annual floods. Again and again we saw the
evidence of some island, continued long enough to raise
a spruce forest, suddenly receive a
6-foot contribution from its erratic
mother; so the trees were buried to
the arm-pits.

Many times I saw where some
frightful jam of ice had planed off
all the trees; then a deep over-
whelming layer of mud had bur-
ied the stumps and grown in time
a new spruce forest. Now the
A 41 inch birciTspiit by mighty erratic river was tearing all
a landslide. This is a ^s work away again, exposing

common accident J ° ' r °

all its history.

In the delta of the Slave, near Fort Resolution, we
saw the plan of delta work. Millions of tons of mud
poured into the deep translucent lake have filled it for
miles, so that it is scarcely deep enough to float a
canoe; thousands of huge trees, stolen from the upper
forest, are here stranded as wing-dams that check the
current and hold more mud. Rushes grow on this and
catch more mud. Then the willows bind it more,
and the sawing down of the outlet into the Mackenzie
results in all this mud being left dry land.

This is the process that has made all the lowlands
at the mouth of Great Slave and Athabaska Rivers.

GEOLOGICAL FORCES AT WORK 199

And the lines of tree trunks to-day, preparing for the
next constructive annexation of the lake, are so regular
that one's first thought is thai this is the work of man.
But these are things that my sketches and photographs
will show better than words.

When later we got onto the treeless Barrens or Tun-
dra, the process was equally evident, though at this
time dormant, and the chief agent was not running
water, but the giant Jack Frost.

r#*-

CHAPTER XXIX

PIKE'S PORTAGE

Part of my plan was to leave a provision cache every
hundred miles, with enough food to carry us 200 miles,
and thus cover the possibility of considerable loss. I
had left supplies at Chipewyan, Smith, and Resolution,
but these were settlements; now we were pushing off
into the absolute wilderness, where it was unlikely we
should see any human beings but ourselves. Now,
indeed, we were facing all primitive conditions. Other
travellers have made similar plans for food stores,
but there are three deadly enemies to a cache — weather,
ravens, and wolverines. I was prepared for all three.
Water-proof leatheroid cases were to turn the storm,
dancing tins and lines will scare the ravens, and each
cache tree was made unclimbable to Wolverines by the
addition of a necklace of charms in the form of large
fish-hooks, all nailed on with points downward. This
idea, borrowed from Tyrrell, has always proved a suc-
cess; and not one of our caches was touched or injured.
Tyrrell has done much for this region ; his name will
ever be linked with its geography and history. His
map of the portage was a godsend, for now we found
that our guide had been here only once, and that when
he was a child, with many resultant lapses of memory
and doubts about the trail. My only wonder was that
he remembered as much as he did.

200

The Deathbirds, the Sturm, and the Wolverine

PIKE'S PORTAGE 201

Here we had a Midden and unexpected onset of black
flies; they appeared for the first time in numbers,

and attacked lis with a ferocity thai made the mos-
quitoes seem like a lot of baby butterflies in com-
parison. However, much as we may dislike the latter,
they at least do not poison us or convey disease (as
yet), and are repelled by thick clothing. The black
flies attack us like some awful pestilence walking in
darkness, crawling in and forcing themselves under
our clothing, stinging and poisoning as they go. They
are, of course, worst near the openings in our armour,
that is necks, wrists, and ankles. Soon each of us had
a neck like an old fighting bull walrus; enormously
swollen, corrugated with bloats and wrinkles, blotched,
bumpy, and bloody, as disgusting as it was painful.
All too closely it simulated the ravages of some fright-
ful disease, and for a night or two the torture of this
itching fire kept me from sleeping. Three days,
fortunately, ended the black fly reign, and left us with
a deeper sympathy for the poor Egyptians who on
account of their own or some other bodies' sins were
the victims of "plagues of flies."

But there was something in the camp that amply
offset these annoyances; this was a spirit of kindness
and confidence. Old Weeso was smiling and happy,
ready at all times to do his best ; his blundering about
the way was not surprising, all things considered, but
his mistakes did not matter; since I had Tyrrell's ad-
mirable maps. Billy, sturdy, strong, reliable, never
needed to be called twice in the morning. No matter
what the hour, he was up at once and cooking the break-

202 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

fast in the best of style, for an A 1 cook he was. And
when it came to the portages he would shoulder his
200 or 250 pounds each time. Preble combined the
mental force of the educated white man with the brawn
of the savage, and although not supposed to do it, he
took the same sort of loads as Billy did. Mine, for the
best of reasons, were small, and consisted chiefly of the
guns, cameras, and breakables, or occasionally, while
they were transporting the heavy stuff, I acted as
cook. But all were literally and figuratively in the
same boat, all paddled all day, ate the same food,
worked the same hours, and imbued with the same
spirit were eager to reach the same far goal. From
this on the trip was ideal.

We were 31 days covering the 8 small lakes and
9 portages (30 miles) that lie between the two great
highways, Great Slave Lake and Artillery Lake; and
camped on the shore of the latter on the night of July 31.

Two of these 9 lakes had not been named by the
original explorers. I therefore exercised my privilege
and named them, respectively, "Loutit" and "Weeso,"
in honour of my men.

The country here is cut up on every side with caribou
trails; deep worn like the buffalo trails on the plains,
with occasional horns and bones; these, however,
are not so plentiful as were the relics of the Buffalo.
This, it proved, was because the Caribou go far north
at horn-dropping time, and they have practically no
bones that the Wolves cannot crush with their teeth.

Although old tracks were myriad-many, there were
no new ones. Weeso said, however, "In about four

PIKE'S PORTAGE 203

days the shores of this lake will be alive with Caribou."
It will show the erratic nature of these animals when
I say that the old man was all wrong; they did not
appear there in numbers until many weeks later,
probably not for two months.

Here, at the foot of Artillery Lake, we were near the
last of the timber, and, strange to say, we found some
trees of remarkably large growth. One, a tamarac,
was the largest and last seen; the other, a spruce —
Pike's Lobstick — was 55 inches in girth, 1 foot from
the ground.

At this camp Weeso complained that he was feeling
very sick; had pains in his back. I could not make
out wThat was the matter with him, but Billy said
sagaciously, "I think if you give him any kind of a pill
he will be all right. It doesn't matter what, so long
as it's a pill."

Of course "cathartic" is good blind play in case of
doubt. He got a big, fierce rhubarb, and all went well.

CHAPTER XXX

CARIBOU-LAND AT LAST

On the morning of August 1 we launched on Artillery
Lake, feeling, for the tenth time, that now we really
were on the crowning stretch of our journey, that at
last we were entering the land of the Caribou.

Over the deep, tranquil waters of the lake we went,
scanning the painted shores with their dwindling rem-
nants of forest. There is something inspiring about the
profundity of transparency in these lakes, where they
are 15 feet deep their bottoms are no more obscured
than in an ordinary eastern brook at 6 inches. On
looking down into the far-below world, one gets the
sensation of flight as one skims overhead in the swift
canoe. And how swift that elegant canoe was in a
clear run I was only now finding out. All my previous
estimates had been too low. Here I had the absolute
gauge of Tyrrell's maps and found that we four pad-
dling could send her, not 3J, but 4^ or 5 miles an hour,
with a possibility of 6 when we made an effort. As we
spun along the south-east coast of the lake, the country
grew less rugged; the continuous steep granite hills
were replaced by lower buttes with long grassy plains
between; and as I took them in, I marvelled at their
name — the Barrens; bare of trees, yes, but the plains
were covered with rich, rank grass, more like New

204

Artillery Lake

founded rhltflj oa J, w ryrrall'i nupot 1WQ

206 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

England meadows. There were stretches where the
herbage was rank as on the Indiana prairies, and the
average pasture of the bleaker parts was better than
the best of central Wyoming. A cattleman of the
West would think himself made if he could be sure of
such pastures on his range, yet these are the Barren
Grounds.

At 3 we passed the splendid landmark of Beaver
Lodge Mountain. Its rosy-red granite cliffs contrast

Beaver Lodge Mountain. Aug. 7, 1907

wonderfully with its emerald cap of verdant grass
and mosses, that cover it in tropical luxuriance, and
the rippling lake about it was of Mediterranean hues.

We covered the last 9 miles in 1 hour and 53 minutes,
passed the deserted Indian village, and landed at Last
Woods by 8.30 p. m.

The edge of the timber is the dividing line between
the Hudsonian and the Arctic zones. It is the begin-
ning of the country we had come to see ; we were now
in the land of the Caribou.

At this point we were prepared to spend several
days, leave a cache, gather a bundle of choice firewood,
then enter on the treeless plains.

That night it stormed; all were tired; there was no
reason to bestir ourselves; it was 10 when we arose.
Half an hour later Billy came to my tent and said,
"Mr. Seton, here's some deer." I rushed to the door,

Casba River and Lake

founded chlefl] on J. W. Tyrrell's miy of 1900

208 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and there, with my own eyes, I saw on a ridge a mile
away four great Caribou standing against the sky.

We made for a near hill and met Preble returning;
he also had seen them. From a higher view-point the
4 proved part of a band of 20.

Then other bands came in view, 16, 61, 3, 200, and
so on; each valley had a scattering few, all travelling
slowly southward or standing to enjoy the cool breeze
that ended the torment of the flies. About 1,000 were
in sight. These were my first Caribou, the first fruits
of 3,000 miles of travel.

Weeso got greatly excited; these were the fore-
runners of the vast herd. He said, "Plenty Caribou
now," and grinned like a happy child.

I went in one direction, taking only my camera. At
least 20 Caribou trotted within 50 feet of me.

Billy and Weeso took their rifles intent on venison,
but the Caribou avoided them, and 6 or 8 shots were
heard before they got a young buck.

All that day I revelled in Caribou, no enormous herds
but always a few in sight.

The next day Weeso and I went to the top ridge
eastward. He with rifle, I with camera. He has a
vague idea of the camera's use, but told Billy privately
that "the rifle was much better for Caribou." He
could not understand why I should restrain him from
blazing away as long as the ammunition held out.
"Didn't we come to shoot?" But he was amenable
to discipline, and did as I wished when he under-
stood.

Now on the top of that windy ridge I sat with this

CARIBOU-LAND AT LAST 209

copper-coloured child of the spruce woods, to watch
those cattle of the plains.

The Caribou is a travelsome beast, always in a hurry,
going against the wind. When the wind is west, all
travel west ; when it veers, they veer. Now the wind
was northerly, and all were going north, not walking,
not galloping — the Caribou rarely gallops, and then
only for a moment or two; his fast gait is a steady
trot a 10-mile gait, making with stops about 6 miles
an hour. But they are ever on the move; when you
see a Caribou that does not move, you know at once it
is not a Caribou; it's a rock.

We sat down on the hill at 3. In a few minutes a
cow Caribou came trotting from the south, caught the
wind at 50 yards, and dashed away.

In 5 minutes another, in 20 minutes a young buck,
in 20 minutes more a big buck, in 10 minutes a great
herd of about 500 appeared in the south. They came
along at full trot, lined to pass us on the south-east.
At half a mile they struck our scent and all recoiled
as though we were among them. They scattered in
alarm, rushed south again, then, gathered in solid body,
came on as before, again to spring back and scatter as
they caught the taint of man. After much and various
running, scattering, and massing, they once more
charged the fearsome odour and went right through it.
Now they passed at 500 yards and gave the chance
for a far camera shot.

The sound of their trampling was heard a long way
off — half a mile — but at MOO yards I could not dis-
tinguish the clicking of the feet, whereas this clicking

210 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

was very plainly to be heard from the band that
passed within 50 yards of me in the morning.

They snort a good deal and grunt a little, and, not-
withstanding their continual haste, I noticed that from
time to time one or two would lie down, but at once
jump up and rush on when they found they were being
left behind. Many more single deer came that day,
but no more large herds.

About 4.30 a fawn of this year (2J or 3 months) came
rushing up from the north, all alone. It charged up a
hill for 200 yards, then changed its mind and charged
down again, then raced to a bunch of tempting herbage,
cropped it hastily, dashed to a knoll, left at an angle,
darted toward us till within 40 yards, then dropped
into a thick bed of grass, where it lay as though it had
unlimited time.

I took one photograph, and as I crawled to get one
nearer, a shot passed over my head, and the merry
cackle told me that Weeso had yielded to temptation
and had ' collected ' that fawn.

A young buck now came trotting and grunting toward
us till within 16 paces, which proved too much for
Weeso, who then and there, in spite of repeated recent
orders, started him on the first step toward my museum
collection.

I scolded him angrily, and he looked glum and
unhappy, like a naughty little boy caught in some
indiscretion which he cannot understand. He said
nothing to me then, but later complained to Billy,
asking, "What did we come for?"

Next morning at dawn I dreamed I was back in

CARIBOU-LAND AT LAST 211

New York and that a couple of cats were wailing
under my bedroom window. Their noise increased
so that I awoke, and then I heard unaccountable
caterwauls. They were very loud and near, at least
one of the creatures was. At length I got up to sec.
Here on the lake a few yards from the tent was a loon
swimming about, minutely inspecting the tent and
uttering at intervals deep cat-like mews in expression
of his curiosity.

The south wind had blown for some days before we
arrived, and the result was to fill the country with Cari-
bou coming from the north. The day after we came,
the north wind set in, and continued for three days,
so that soon there was not a Caribou to be found in
the region.

In the afternoon I went up the hill to where Weeso
left the offal of his deer. A large yellowish animal
was there feeding. It disappeared over a rock and I
could get no second view of it. It may have been a
wolf, as I saw a fresh wolf trail near; I did not, however,
see the animal's tail.

In the evening Preble and I went again, and again
the creature was there, but disappeared as mysteriously
as before when we were 200 yards away. Where it
went we could not guess. The country was open and
we scoured it with eye and glass, but saw nothing more
of the prowler. It seemed to be a young Arctic wolf,
yellowish white in colour, but tailless.

Next day at noon Preble and Billy returned bearing
the illusive visitor; it was a large Lynx. It was very
thin and yet, after bleeding, weighed 22 pounds. But

212 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

why was it so far from the forest, 20 miles or more, and
a couple of miles from this little grove that formed the
last woods?

This is another evidence of the straits the Lynxes
are put to for food, in this year of famine.

CHAPTER XXXI

GOOD-BYE TO THE WOODS

The last woods is a wonderfully interesting biological
point or line; this ultimate arm of the forest does not
die away gradually with uncertain edges and in steadily
dwindling trees. The latter have sent their stoutest
champions to the front, or produced, as by a final
effort, some giants for the line of battle. And that line,
with its sentinels, is so marked that one can stand with
a foot on the territory of each combatant, or, as scien-
tists call them, the Arctic Region and the cold Tem-
perate.

And each of the embattled kings, Jack-frost and
Sombre-pine, has his children in abundance to possess
the land as he wins it. Right up to the skirmish line
are they.

The low thickets of the woods are swarming with
Tree-sparrows, Redpolls, Robins, Hooded Sparrows,
and the bare plains, a few yards away, are peopled
and vocal with birds to whom a bush is an abomina-
tion. Lap-longspur, Snowbird, Shorclarks, and Pipits
are here, soaring and singing, or among the barren
rocks are Ptarmigan in garments that are painted in
the patterns of their rocks.

There is one sombre fowl of ampler wing that knows
no line — is at home in the open or in the woods. His

213

214 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

sonorous voice has a human sound that is uncanny;
his form is visible afar in the desert and sinister as a
gibbet; his plumage fits in with nothing but the night,
which he does not love. This evil genius of the land is
the Raven of the north. Its numbers increased as we

Cairn Bay, looking south. August 7, 1907

reached the Barrens, and the morning after the first
Caribou was killed, no less than 28 were assembled
at its offal.

An even more interesting bird of the woods is the
Hooded Sparrow, interesting because so little known.

Here I found it on its breeding-grounds, a little late
for its vernal song, but in September we heard its
autumnal renewal like the notes of its kinsmen, White-
throat and White-crowned Sparrows, but with less
whistling, and more trilled. In all the woods of the
Hudsonian Zone we found it evidently at home. But
here I was privileged to find the first nest of the species
known to science. The victory was robbed of its
crown, through the nest having fledglings instead of
eggs, but still it was the ample reward of hours of
search.

GOOD-BYE TO THE WOODS 215

Of course it was on the ground, in the moss and creep-
ing plants, under some bushes of dwarf birch, screened
by spruces. The structure closely resembled that of
the Whitethroat, was lined with grass and fibrous
roots; no down, feathers, or fur were observable. The
young numbered four.

The last woods was the limit of other interesting
creatures — the Ants. Wherever one looks on the
ground, in a high, dry place, throughout the forest
country, from Athabaska Landing northward along
our route, there is to be seen at least one Ant to the
square foot, usually several. Three kinds seem com-
mon— one red-bodied, another a black one with brown
thorax, and a third very small and all black. They
seem to live chiefly in hollow logs and stumps, but are
found also on marshes, where their hills are occasionally
so numerous as to form dry bridges across.

I made many notes on the growth of timber here and
all along the route; and for comparison will begin at the
very beginning.

In March, 1907, at my home in Connecticut, I cut
down an oak tree (Q. palustris) that was 110 feet high,
32 inches in diameter, and yet had only 70 rings of
annual growth.

In the Bittcrroot Mountains of Idaho, where I
camped in September, 1902, a yellow pine 6 feet 6
inches high was 5\ inches in circumference at base.
It had 14 rings and 14 whorls of branches corresponding
exactly with the rings.

At the same place I measured a balsam fir — 84 feet
high, 15 inches in diameter at 32 inches from the

216 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

ground. It had 52 annual rings and 50 or possibly
52 whorls of branches. The most vigorous upward
growth of the trunk corresponded exactly with the
largest growth of wood in the stump. Thus ring No.
33 was f inch wide and whorl No. 33 had over 2 feet of
growth, below it on the trunk were others which had
but 6 inches.

On the stump most growth was on north-east side;
there it was 9 inches, from pith to bark next on east
8<2 inches, on south 8 inches, north 6J inches, west 6^
inches, least on north-west side, 6 inches. The most
light in this case came from the north-east. This was
in the land of mighty timber.

On Great Slave River, the higher latitude is offset
by lower altitude, and on June 2, 1907, while among
the tall white spruce trees I measured one of average
size — 118 feet high, 11 feet 2 inches in girth a foot from
the ground (3 feet 6J inches in diameter), and many
black poplars nearly as tall were 9 feet in girth.

But the stunting effect of the short summer became
marked as we went northward. At Fort Smith, June
20, I cut down a jackpine that was 12 feet high, 1
inch in diameter, with 23 annual rings at the bottom;
6 feet up it had 12 rings and 20 whorls. In all it
appeared to have 43 whorls, which is puzzling. Of
these 20 were in the lower part. This tree grew in
dense shade.

At Fort Resolution we left the Canadian region of
large timber and entered the stunted spruce, as noted,
and at length on the timber line we saw the final effort
of the forests to combat Jack Frost in his own king-

The giants on the edge of the forest

Am ancient dwarf about 250 years old. Bills ready for action.

*-f4ftht

GOOD-BYE TO THE WOODS 217

dom. The individual history of each tree is in three
stages:

First, as a low, thick, creeping bush sometimes ten
feet across, bul only a foot high. In this stage it con-
tinues until rooted enough and with capital enough to
Bend up a Long central shoot; which is stage No. 2.

This central shoot is
like a Noah's Ark pine;
in time it becomes the
tnc and finally the
basal thicket dies
The three agee ol the Bpruoe away, leaving the spec-

imen in stage No. 3.
Astern of one of the low creepers was cut for ex-
amination; it was U inches through and 25 years
old. Some of these low mats of spruce have stems 5
inches through. They must be fully 100 years old.

A tall, dead, white spruce at the camp was 30 feet
high and 11 inches in diameter at 1 feet from the
ground. Its 190 rin<rs were hard to count, they were
so thin. The central ones were thickest, there he'int;
1G to the inmost inch of radius; on the outside to the
north 50 rings made only J an inch and SO made one
inch.
Numbers 42 and l.'l. counting from the outside, were

two or three times as thick as those outside of them
and much thicker than the next within; they hum
have represented years of unusual summers. No. '•'.)

also was of great size. What years these corresponded
with one could not guess, as the tree was a long time
dead.

218

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Another, a dwarf but 8 feet high, was 12 inches
through. It had 205 rings plus a 5-inch hollow which
we reckoned at about 100 rings of growth; 64 rings
made only If inches; the outmost of the 64 was 2
inches in from the outside of the wood. Those on the
outer two inches were even smaller, so as to be ex-
ceedingly difficult to count. This tree was at least
300 years old; our estimates varied, according to the
data, from 300 to 325 years.

These, then, are the facts for extremes. In Idaho
or Connecticut it took about 10 years to produce the
same amount of timber as took 300 years on the edge
of the Arctic Zone.

White spruce

(Like a red banana)

Black spruce

(Like a purple plum)

CHAPTER XXXII

THE TREELESS PLAINS

On August 7 wc left Camp Last Woods. Our various
specimens, with a stock-of food, were secured, as usual,
in a cache high in two trees, in this case those already
used by Tyrrell seven years before, and guarded by the
magic necklace of cod hooks.

By noon (in 3 hours) we made fifteen miles, camping
far beyond Twin Buttes. All day long the boat shot
through water crowded with drowned gnats. These
were about 10 to the square inch near shore and for
about twenty yards out, after that 10 to the square
foot for two hundred or three hundred yards still
farther from shore, and for a quarter mile wide they
were 10 to the square yard.

This morning the wind turned and blew from the
south. At 2 p. m. we saw a band of some GO Caribou
travelling southward; these were the first seen for two
or three days. After this wc saw many odd ones, and
about 3 o'clock a band of 400 or 500. At night we
camped on Casba River, having covered 36 miles in 7
hours and 45 minutes.

The place wc had .selected for camp proved to be a
Caribou crossing. As we drew near a dozen of them
came from the cast and swam across. A second band
of 8 now appeared. We gave chase. They spurted;
so did we. Our canoe was going over 6 miles an hour,

219

220 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and yet was but slowly overtaking them. They made
the water foam around them. Their heads, necks,
shoulders, backs, rumps, and tails were out. I never
before saw land animals move so fast in the water. A
fawn in danger of being left behind reared up on its
mother's back and hung on with forefeet. The leader
was a doe or a young buck, I could not be sure which ;
the last was a big buck. They soon struck bottom
and bounded along on the shore. It was too dark for
a picture.

As we were turning in for the night 30 Caribou came
trotting and snorting through the camp. Half of
them crossed the water, but the rest turned back when
Billy shouted.

Later a band of two hundred passed through and
around our tents. In the morning Billy complained
that he could not sleep all night for Caribou travelling
by his tent and stumbling over the guy ropes. From
this time on we were nearly always in sight of Caribou,
small bands or scattering groups; one had the feeling
that the whole land was like this, on and on and on,
unlimited space with unlimited wild herds.

A year afterward, as I travelled in the fair State of
Illinois, famous for its cattle, I was struck by the idea
that one sees far more Caribou in the north than cattle
in Illinois. This State has about 56,000 square miles
of land and 3,000,000 cattle; the Arctic Plains have
over 1,000,000 square miles of prairie, which, allowing
for the fact that I saw the best of the range, would set
the Caribou number at over 30,000,000. There is a
good deal of evidence that this is not far from the truth.

£jV *+ . s:*

Tyrrell's Monument at Last Woods
The monument is seen <m t ho skyline ;ii tin- right <>r tin- large In

Tlu- falls of the Casta Kiver

THE TREELESS PLAINS 221

The reader may recollect the original postulate of
my plan. Other travellers have gone, relying on the
abundant Caribou, yel saw none, bo starved. I relied
on no Caribou, I took plenty of groceries, and because
I was independent, the Caribou walked into camp
nearly every day, and we lived largely on their meat,
saving our groceries for an emergency, which came
in an unexpected form. One morning when we
were grown accustomed to this condition I said to
Billy:

"How is the meat0"

'■Nearly gone. We'll need another Caribou about
Thursday."

"You better get one now to be ready Thursday. I
do not like it so steaming fresh. See, there's a nice little
buck on that hillside."

"No, not him; why lie is nearly half a mile off. I'd
have to pack him in. Let's wait till one comes in
camp."

Which we did, and usually got our meat delivered
near the door.

Caribou meat fresh, and well prepared, has no
superior, and the ideal way of cooking it is of course by
roasting.

Fried meat is dried meat,
Boiled meat is spoiled meat,
Roast meal is besl meat.

How was it to be roasted at an open fire without
continued vigilance? By a very simple contrivance
that T invented at the time and now offer for the use of
all campers.

222

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

A wire held the leg; on the top of the wire was a
paddle or shingle of wood; above that, beyond the
heat, was a cord.

The wind gives the paddle a push; it winds up the
cord, which then unwinds itself. This goes on without
fail and without effort, never still, and the roast is
perfect.

Thus we were living on the fat of many lands and on
the choicest fat of this.

And what a region it is for pasture. At this place
it reminds one of Texas. Open, grassy plains, sparser
reaches of sand, long slopes of mesquite, mesas dotted
with cedars and stretches of chapparal and soap weed.
Only, those vegetations here are willow, dwarf birch,
tiny spruce, and ledum, and the country as a whole
is far too green and rich. The emerald verdure of the
shore, in not a few places, carried me back to the west
coast of Ireland.

Camp-roaster

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE UNKNOWN

The daily observations of route and landmark I can
best leave for record on my maps. I had one great
complaint against previous explorers (except Tyrrell);
that is; they left no monuments. Aiming to give no
ground of complaint against us, we made monuments
at all important points. On the night of August 8
we camped at Cairn Bay on the west side of Casba Lake,
so named because of the five remarkable glacial cairns
or conical stone-piles about it. On the top of one of
these I left a monument, a six-foot pillar of large stones.

On the afternoon of August 9 we passed the im-
portant headland that I have called "Tyrrell Point."
Here we jumped off his map into the unknown. I had,
of course, the small chart drawn by Sir George Back
in 1834, but it was nastily made under great dif-
ficulties, and, with a few exceptions, it seemed im-
possible to recognize his landscape features. Next
day I explored the east arm of Clinton-Colden and dis-
covered the tributary that I have called "Lauricr
River," and near its mouth made a cairn enclosing a
Caribou antler with inscription "E. T. Seton, 10 Aug..
1907."

Future travellers on this lake will find, as I did.
that the Conical Butte in the eastern part is an im-

223

224 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

portant landmark. It is a glacial dump about 50
feet above the general level, which again is 100 feet
above the water, visible and recognizable from nearly
all parts of the lake.

Thus we went on day by day, sometimes detained by
head or heavy winds, but making great progress in the
calm, which nearly always came in the evening; 30

Ptarmigan Head from the east

and 35 miles a day we went, led on and stimulated by
the thirst to see and know. "I must see what is over
that ridge," "I must make sure that this is an island,"
or "Maybe from that lookout I shall see Lake Aylmer,
or a band of Caribou, yes, or even a band of Musk-ox."
Always there was some reward, and nearly always it
was a surprise.

From time to time we came on Snowbirds with
their young broods, evidently at home. Ptarmigan
abounded. Parry's Groundsquirrel was found at
nearly all points, including the large islands. The Lap-
longspur swarmed everywhere; their loud "chee
chups" were the first sounds to greet us each time we
neared the land. And out over all the lake were Loons,
Loons, Loons. Four species abound here; they cater-
waul and yodel all day and all night, each in its own
particular speech. From time to time a wild hyena
chorus from the tranquil water in the purple sunset
haze suggested that a pack of goblin hounds were
chivying a goblin buck, but it turned out always to

—

THE UNKNOWN 225

be B family of Red-throated Loons, yodelling their
inspiring marching song.

One day when at Gravel Mountain, old Wceso came
to camp in evident fear — "far off he had seen a man.''
In 1 his country a man must mean an Eskimo; with
them the Indian has a long feud; of them he is in terror.
We never learned the truth; I think he was mistaken.

Once or twice the long howl of the White Wolf
sounded from the shore, and every day we saw a few
Caribou.

A greal many of the single Caribou were on the small
islands. In six cases that came under close observa-
tion the animal in question had a broken leg. A
broken leg generally evidences recent inroads by
hunters, but the nearest Indians were 200 miles to the
south, and the nearest Eskimo 300 miles to the north.
There was every reason to believe that we were the
only human beings in that vast region, and certainly
we had broken no legs. Every Caribou fired at (8)
had been secured and used. There is only one danger-
ous large enemy common in this country; that is the
White Wolf. And the more I pondered it, the more it
Beemed sure that the Wolves had broken the Cari-
bous' Jegs.

I low! This is the history of each case: The Caribou
18 so much swifter than the Wolves that the latter have
no chance in open chase; they therefore adopt the
Stratagem of a sneaking surround and a drive over the
rocks or a precipice, where the Caribou, if not actually
killed, is more oi1 less disabled. In some cases only a
leg is broken, and then the Caribou knows his only

226 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

chance is to reach the water. Here his wonderful
powers of swimming make him easily safe, so much so
that the Wolves make no attempt to follow. The
crippled deer makes for some island sanctuary, where
he rests in peace till his leg is healed, or it may be, in
some cases, till the freezing of the lake brings him again
into the power of his foe.

These six, then, were the cripples in hospital, and
I hope our respectful behaviour did not inspire them
with a dangerously false notion of humanity.

On the island that I have called Owl-and-Hare, we
saw the first White Owl and the first Arctic Hare.

In this country when you see a tree, you know per-
fectly well it is not a tree; it's the horns of a Caribou.
An unusually large affair of branches appeared on an
island in the channel to Aylmer. I landed, camera in
hand; the Caribou was lying down in the open, but
there was a tuft of herbage 30 yards from him, another
at 20 yards. I crawled to the first and made a snap-
shot, then, flat as a rug, sneaked my way to the one es-
timated at 20 yards. The click of the camera, alarmed
the buck ; he rose, tried the wind, then lay down again,
giving me another chance. Having used all the films,
I now stood up. The Caribou dashed away and by
a slight limp showed that he was in sanctuary. The
20-yard estimate proved too tang; it was only 16 yards,
which put my picture a little out of focus.

There never was a day, and rarely an hour of each
day, that we did not see several Caribou. And yet
I never failed to get a thrill at each fresh one. "There's
a Caribou," one says with perennial intensity that is

The leap fbi life

THE UNKNOWN

227

evidence of perennial pleasure in the sight. There
never was one righted (hat did not give US a happy sense
of satisfaction— the thought "This is what we came
for."

Feet of Groundsquirrel

CHAPTER XXXIV
AYLMER LAKE

One of my objects was to complete the ambiguous
shore line of Aylmer Lake. The first task was to find
the lake. So we left the narrows and pushed on and
on, studying the Back map, vainly trying to identify
points, etc. Once or twice we saw gaps ahead, that
seemed to open into the great inland sea of Aylmer.
But each in turn proved a mere bay. On August 12
we left the narrows; on the 13th and 14th we journeyed
westward seeking the open sea. On the morning of the
15th we ran into the final end of the farthest bay we
could discover and camped at the mouth of a large
river entering in.

As usual, we landed — Preble, Billy, and I — to study
topography, Weeso to get firewood, and curiously
enough, there was more firewood here than we had
seen since leaving Artillery Lake. The reason of this
appeared later.

I was utterly puzzled. We had not yet found Ayl-
mer Lake, and had discovered an important river that
did not seem to be down on any map.

We went a mile or two independently and studied the
land from all the high hills; evidently we had crossed
the only great sheet of water in the region. About
noon, when all had assembled at camp, I said: "Preble,

228

Caribou enjoying a breeze

The trophy that weighed nine hundred pounds

230 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

why, isn't this Lockhart's River, at the western extrem-
ity of Aylmer Lake?" The truth was dawning on me.

He also had been getting light and slowly replied:
"I have forty-nine reasons why it is, and none at all
why it isn't."

There could be no doubt of it now. The great open
sea of Aylmer was a myth. Back never saw it; he
passed in a fog, and put down with a query the vague
information given him by the Indians. This little
irregular lake, much like Clinton-Colden, was Aylmer.
We had covered its length and were now at its farthest
western end, at the mouth of Lockhart's River.

How I did wish that explorers would post up the
names of the streets ; it is almost as bad as in New York
City. What a lot of time we might have saved had
we known that Sandy Bay was in Back's three-fingered
peninsula! Resolving to set a good example I left a
monument at the mouth of the river. The kind of
stone made it easy to form a cross on top. This will
protect it from wandering Indians; I do not know
of anything that will protect it from wandering white
men.

Near mouth of Lockhart River

CHAPTER XXXV
THE MUSK-OX

In the afternoon, Preble, Bill}-, and I went northward
on foot to look for Musk-ox. A couple of miles from
camp I left the others and went more westerly.

After wandering on for an hour, disturbing Long-
spurs, Snowbirds, Pipits, Groundsquirrel, and Cari-
bou, I came on a creature that gave me new thrills of
pleasure. It was only a Polar Hare, the second we had
seen; but its very scarceness here, at least this year,
gave it unusual interest, and the Hare itself helped the
feeling by letting me get near it to study, sketch, and
photograph.

It was exactly like a Prairie Hare in all its manners,
even to the method of holding its tail in running, and
this is one of the most marked and distinctive peculiar-
ities of the different kinds.

On the 16th of August we left Lockhart's River,
knowing now that the north arm of the lake was our
way. We passed a narrow bay out of which there
seemed to be a current, then, on the next high land,
noted a large brown spot that moved rather quickly
along. It was undoubtedly some animal with short
legs, whether a Wolverine a mile away, or a Musk-ox
two miles away, was doubtful. Now did that canoe
put on its six-mile gait, and we soon knew for certain

231

232

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

that the brown thing was a Musk-ox. We were not
yet in their country, but here was one of them to meet
us. Quickly we landed. Guns and cameras were
loaded.

"Don't fire till I get some pictures — unless he
charges," were the orders. "And then we raced after

the great creature gra-
zing from us.

We had no idea
whether he would run
away or charge, but
knew that our plan
was to remain unseen
as long as possible.
So, hiding behind rocks
when he looked around,
and dashing forward
when he grazed, we came unseen within two hundred
yards, and had a good look at the huge woolly ox.
He looked very much like an ordinary Buffalo, the
same in colour, size, and action. I never was more
astray in my preconcept of any animal, for I had ex-
pected to see something like a large brown sheep.

My first film was fired. Then, for some unknown
reason, that Musk-ox took it into his head to travel
fast away from us, not even stopping to graze; he
would soon have been over a rocky ridge. I nodded
to Preble. His rifle rang; the bull wheeled sharp
about with an angry snort and came toward us. His
head was up, his eye blazing, and he looked like a South
African Buffalo and a Prairie Bison combined, and

Arctic Hare. August 15, 1907

The head of the Musk-ox

Head of hull Musk-ox- a pencil Btudy

THE MUSK-OX

233

seemed to get bigger at every moment. We were
safely hidden behind rocks, some fifty yards from him
now, when I got my second snap.

Realising the occasion, and knowing my men, I said :
"Now, Preble, I am going to walk up to that bull
and get a close picture. He will certainly charge me,

I O.IK

If !*»■

Tracks of Musk-ox

as I shall be nearest and in full view. There is only
one combination that can save my life: that is you
and that rifle."

Then with characteristic loquacity did Preble reply:
"Go ahead."

I fixed my camera for twenty yards and quit the
sheltering rock. The bull snorted, shook his head,
took aim, and just before the precious moment was
to arrive a heavy shot behind me rang out, the bull
staggered and fell, shot through the heart, and Weeso
cackled aloud in triumph.

How I cursed the meddling old fool. He had not
understood. He saw, as he supposed, "the Okimow
in peril of his life/'and acted according to the dictates
of his accursedly poor discretion. Never again shall
he carry a rifle with me.

So the last scene came not, but we had the trophy

234

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Musk-ox tracks, male.
August 18, 1907

of a Musk-ox that weighed nine hundred pounds in
life and stood five feet high at the shoulders — a world's
record in point of size.

Now we must camp perforce to save the specimen.
Measurements, photos, sketches, and weights were
needed, then the skinning and preparing would be a

heavy task for all. In the
many portages after-
wards the skull was part
of my burden ; its weight
was actually forty pounds,
its heaviness was far
over a hundred.
What extraordinary luck we were having. It was
impossible in our time limit to reach the summer haunt
of the Caribou on the Arctic Coast, therefore the Cari-
bou came to us in their winter haunt on the Artillery
Lake. We did not expect to reach the real Musk-ox
country on the Lower Back River, so the Musk-ox
sought us out on Aylmer Lake. And yet one more
piece of luck is to be recorded. That night something
came in our tent and stole meat. The next night
Billy set a trap and secured the thief — an Arctic Fox
in summer coat. We could not expect to go to him
in his summer home, so he came to us.

While the boys were finishing the dressing of the
bull's hide, I, remembering the current from the last
bay, set out on foot over the land to learn the reason.
A couple of miles brought me to a ridge from which I
made the most important geographical discovery of
the journey. Stretching away before me to the far

Head of a young buck

An Arctic Fox in his Bummer coal

THE MUSK-OX

235

dim north-west was a great, splendid river — broad,
two hundred yards wide in places, but averaging
seventy or eighty yards across — broken by white
rapids and waterfalls, but blue deep in the smoother
stretches and emptying into the bay we had noticed.
So far as the record showed, I surely was the first

Left front foot of male Musk-ox

white man to behold it. I went to the margin; it was
stocked with large trout. I followed it up a couple
of miles and was filled with the delight of discovery.
"Earl Grey River" I have been privileged to name it,
after the distinguished statesman, now Governor-
general of Canada.

Then and there I built a cairn, with a record of my
visit, and sitting on a hill with the new river below
me, I felt that there was no longer any question of
the expedition's success. The entire programme was
carried out. I had proved the existence of abundance
of Caribou, had explored Aylmer Lake, had discovered
two great rivers, and, finally, had reached the land of
the Musk-ox and secured a record-breaker to bring
away. This I felt was the supreme moment of the
journey.

236

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Realizing the farness of my camp from human
abode — it could scarcely have been farther on the con-
tinent— my thoughts flew back to the dear ones at.
home, and my comrades, the men of the Camp-fire
Club. I wondered if their thoughts were with me at
the time. How they must envy me the chance of
launching into the truly unknown wilderness, a land
still marked on the maps as "unexplored!" How I
enjoyed the thoughts of their sympathy over our
probable perils and hardships, and imagined them
crowding around me with hearty greetings on my safe
return! Alas! for the rush of a gr^at city's life and
crowds, I found out later that these, my companions,
did not even know that I had been away from New
York.

Feet of Polar Hare

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES AND MY FARTHEST
NORTH

Camp Musk-ox provided many other items of inter-
est besides the Great River, the big Musk-ox, and the
Arctic Fox. Here Preble secured a Groundsquirrel
with its cheek-pouches full of mushrooms and shot a
cock Ptarmigan whose crop was crammed with leaves
of willow and birch, though the ground was bright with
berries of many kinds. The last evening we were
there a White Wolf followed Billy into camp, keeping
just beyond reach of his shotgun; and, of course, we
saw Caribou every hour or two.

"All aboard," was the cry on the morning of August
19, and once more we set out. We reached the north
arm of the lake, then turned north-eastward. In the
evening I got photos of a Polar Hare, the third we
had seen. The following day (August 20), at noon,
we camped in Sandhill Bay, the north point of Aylmer
Lake and the northernmost point of our travels by
canoe. It seems that we were the fourth party of white
men to camp on this spot.

Captain George Back, 1833-34.
Stewart and Anderson, 1855.
Warburton Pike, 1S90.
E. T. Seton, 1907.

237

238 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

All day long we had seen small bands of Caribou.
A score now appeared on a sandhill half a mile away ;
another and another lone specimen trotted past our
camp. One of these stopped and gave us an ex-
traordinary exhibition of agility in a
sort of St. Vitus 's jig, jumping, kick-
ing, and shaking its head; I sus-
pect the nose-worms were annoying
it. While we lunched, a fawn came

Our Cairn at Sand Hill j j • 1 r v

Bay and gazed curiously irom a dis-

tance of 100 yards. In the after-
noon Preble returned from a walk to say that the
Caribou were visible in all directions, but not in great
bands.

Next morning I was awakened by a Caribou clatter-
ing through camp within 30 feet of my tent.

After breakfast we set off on foot northward to seek
for Musk-ox, keeping to the eastward of the Great
Fish River. The country is rolling, with occasional
rocky ridges and long, level meadows in the lowlands,
practically all of it would be considered horse country;
and nearly every meadow had two or three grazing
Caribou.

About noon, when six or seven miles north of Ayl-
mer, we halted for rest and lunch on the top of the long
ridge of glacial dump that lies to the east of Great Fish
River. And now we had a most complete and spec-
tacular view of the immense open country that we
had come so far to see. It was spread before us like a
huge, minute, and wonderful chart, and plainly marked
with the processes of its shaping-time.

MY FARTHEST NORTH 230

Imagine a region of low arehaean hills, extending
one thousand miles each way, subjected for thousands
of years to a continual succession of glaciers, crushing,
grinding, planing, smoothing, ripping up and smooth-
ing again, carrying off whole ranges of broken hills, in
fragments, to dump them at some other point, grind
them again while there, and then push and hustle them
out of that region into some other a few hundred miles
farther; there again to tumble and grind them to-
gether, pack them into the hollows, and dump them in
pyramidal piles on plains and uplands. Imagine this
going on for thousands of years, and we shall have the
hills lowered and polished, the valleys more or less
filled with broken rocks.

Now the glacial action is succeeded by a time of
flood. For another age all is below water, dammed by
the northern ice, and icebergs breaking from the pa-
rent sheet carry bedded in them countless boulders,
with which they go travelling south on the open waters.
As they melt the boulders arc dropped; hill and hollow
share equally in this age-long shower of erratics. Nor
does it cease till the progress of the warmer day re-
moves the northern ice-dam, sets free the flood, and
the region of arehaean rocks stands bare and dry.

It must have been a dreary spectacle at that time,
low, bare hills of gneiss, granite, etc. ; low valleys half-
filled with broken rock and over everything a sprin-
kling of erratic boulders; no living thing in sight, noth-
ing green, nothing growing, nothing but evidence of
mighty power used only to destroy. A waste of shat-
tered granite spotted with hundreds of lakes, thou-

240 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

sands of lakelets, millions of ponds that are marvel-
lously blue, clear, and lifeless.

But a new force is born on the scene ; it attacks not
this hill or rock, or that loose stone, but on every point
of every stone and rock in the vast domain, it appears
— the lowest form of lichen, a mere stain of gray.
This spreads and by its own corrosive power eats foot-
hold on the granite; it fructifies in little black velvet

Bugle moss Lichens Cetraria

spots. Then one of lilac flecks the pink tones of the
granite, to help the effect. Soon another kind follows
— a pale olive-green lichen that fruits in bumps of rich
brown velvet; then another branching like a tiny tree
— there is a ghostly kind like white chalk rubbed lightly
on, and yet another of small green blots, and one like
a sprinkling of scarlet snow; each, in turn, of a higher
and larger type, which in due time prepares the way
for mosses higher still.

In the less exposed places these come forth, seeking
the shade, searching for moisture, they form like small
sponges on a coral reef; but growing, spread and change
to meet the changing contours of the land they win,
and with every victory or upward move, adopt some
new refined intensive tint that is the outward and
visible sign of their diverse inner excellences and their
triumph. Ever evolving they spread, until there are

The trout brook back of Tyrrell's Monument, Last Woods

& YjS

Typical landscape, Antic Prairies

MY FARTHEST NORTH 241

great living rugs of strange textures and oriental tones;
broad carpets there are of gray and green; long luxuri-
ous lanes, with lilac mufflers under foot, great beds of
a moss so yellow chrome, so spangled with intense red
sprigs, that they might, in clumsy hands, look raw.
There are knee-deep breadths of polytrichum, which
blends in the denser shade into a moss of delicate crim-
son plush that baffles description.

Down between the broader masses are bronze-green
growths that run over each slight dip and follow down

Lichens and moss forms

the rock crannies like streams of molten brass. Thus
the whole land is overlaid with a living, corrosive
mantle of activities as varied as its hues.

For ages these toil on, improving themselves, and
improving the country by filing down the granite and
strewing the dust around each rock.

The frost, too, is at work, breaking up the granite
lumps; on every ridge there is evidence of that — low,
rounded piles of stone which plainly are the remnants
of a boulder, shattered by the cold. Thus, lichen, moss,
and frost are toiling to grind the granite surfaces to
dust.

Much of this powdered rock is washed by rain into
the lakes and ponds; in time these cut their exits

242

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Saxifrage

down, and drain, leaving each a broad mud- flat. The
climate mildens and the south winds cease not, so that
wind-borne grasses soon make green mead-
ows of the broad lake-bottom flats.

The process climbs the hill-slopes; every
little earthy foothold for a plant is claimed
by some new settler, until each low hill is
covered to the top with vegetation graded
to its soil, and where the flowering kinds
cannot establish themselves, the lichen pio-
neers still maintain their hold. Rarely, in
the landscape, now, is any of the primitive
colour of the rocks; even the tall, straight
cliffs of Aylmer are painted and frescoed
with lichens that flame and glitter with
purple and orange, silver and gold. How precious and
fertile the ground is made to seem, when every square
foot of it is an exquisite elfin garden made by the
little people, at infinite
cost, filled with dainty
flowers and still later
embellished with deli-
cate fruit.

One of the wonderful
things about these
children of the Barrens

is the great size of fruit and flower compared with the
plant. The cranberry, the crowberry, the cloudberry,
etc., produce fruit any one of which might outweigh
the herb itself.
Nowhere does one get the impression that these are

MY FARTHEST NORTH

243

Weeds, as often happens among the rank growths far-
ther south. The flowers in the wildest profusion arc
generally low, always delicate and mostly in beds of a
single species. The Lalique jewelry was the sensation
of the Paris Exposition of 1899. Yet here is Lalique
renewed and changed for every week in the season and
lavished on every square foot of a region
that is a million square miles in extent.

Not a cranny in a rock but is seized
on at once by the eager little garden-
ers in charge and made a bed of bloom,
as though every inch of room were price-
less. And yet Nature here exemplifies
the law that our human gardeners are
only learning: "Mass your bloom, to
gain effect."

As I stood on that hill, the foreground
was a broad stretch of old gold — the
shining sandy yellow of drying grass — but it was
patched with large scarlet mats of arctous that
would put i''d maple to its reddest blush. There was
no Highland heather here, but there wrcre whole hill-
sides of purple red vaccinium, whose leaves were but
a shade less red than its luscious grape-hued fruit.

Here were white ledums in roods and acre beds:
purple mairanias by the hundred acres, and, framed in
lilac rocks, were rich, rank meadows of golden-green
by the mile.

There were leagues and leagues of caribou moss, pale
green or lilac, and a hundred others in clumps, that,
seeing here the glory of the painted mosses, were sim-

Cloudberry

244 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

ulating their ways, though they themselves were the
not truly mosses at all.

I never before saw such a realm of exquisite flowers
so exquisitely displayed, and the effect at every turn
throughout the land was colour, colour, colour, to as
far outdo the finest autumn tints of New England as
the Colorado Canyon outdoes the Hoosac Gorge.
What Nature can do only in October, elsewhere, she
does here all season through, as though when she set
out to paint the world she began on the Barrens with
a full palette and when she reached the Tropics had
nothing left but green.

Thus at every step one is wading through lush grass
or crushing prairie blossoms and fruits. It is so on
and on; in every part of the scene, there are but few
square feet that do not bloom with flowers and throb
with life; yet this is the region called the Barren Lands
of the North.

And the colour is an index of its higher living forms,
for this is the chosen home of the Swans and Wild
Geese; many of the Ducks, the Ptarmigan, the Lap-
longspur and Snowbunting. The blue lakes echo with
the wailing of the Gulls and the eerie magic calling of
the Loons. Colonies of Lemmings, Voles, or Ground-
squirrels are found on every sunny slope ; the Wolver-
ine and the White Wolf find this a land of plenty, for
on every side, as I stood on that high hill, were to be
seen small groups of Caribou.

This was the land and these the creatures I had
come to see. This was my Farthest North and this
was the culmination of years of dreaming. How very

MY FARTHEST NORTH

245

good it seemed at the time, but how different and how
infinitely more delicate and satisfying was the realisa-
tion than any of the day-dreams founded on my vision
through the eyes of other men.

iL*+*t

Horns of the bull Musk-ox

CHAPTER XXXVII

FACING HOMEWARD

On this hill we divided, Preble and Billy going north-
ward; Weeso and I eastward, all intent on finding a
herd of Musk-ox; for this was the beginning of their
range. There was one continual surprise as we jour-
neyed— the willows that were mere twigs on Aylmer
Lake increased in size and were now plentiful and as
high as our heads, with stems two or three inches
thick. This was due partly to the decreased altitude
and partly to removal from the broad, cold sheet of
Aylmer, which, with its July ice, must tend to lower
the summer temperature.

For a long time we tramped eastward, among hills
and meadows, with Caribou. Then, at length, turned
south again and, after a 20-mile tramp, arrived in camp
at 6.35, having seen no sign whatever of Musk-ox, al-
though this is the region where Pike found them com-
mon; on July 1, 1890, at the little lake where we
lunched, his party killed seven out of a considerable
band.

At 9.30 that night Preble and Billy returned. They
had been over Icy River, easily recognised by the thick
ice still on its expansions, and on to Musk-ox Lake,
without seeing any fresh tracks of a Musk-ox. As
they came into camp a White Wolf sneaked away.

246

FACING HOMEWARD 247

Rain began at 6 and continued a heavy storm all
night. In the morning it was still in full blast, so no
one rose until 9.30, when Billy, starved out of his warm
bed, got up to make breakfast. Soon I heard him call-
ing: "Mr. Seton, here's a big Wolf in camp!" "Bring
him in here," I said. Then a rifle-shot was heard, an-
other, and Billy appeared, dragging a huge White Wolf.
(He is now to be seen in the American Museum.)

All that day and the next night the storm raged.
Even the presence of Caribou bands did not stimulate
us enough to face the sleet. Next day it was dry, but
too windy to travel.

Billy now did something that illustrates at once the
preciousness of firewood, and the pluck, strength, and
reliability of my cook. During his recent tramp he
found a low, rocky hollow full of large, dead willows.
It was eight miles back; nevertheless he set out, of his
own free will; tramped the eight miles, that wet,
blustery day, and returned in five and one-half hours,
bearing on his back a heavy load, over 100 pounds of
most acceptable firewood. Sixteen miles afoot for a
load of wood ! But it seemed well worth it as we rev-
elled in the blessed blaze.

Next day two interesting observations were made;
down by the shore I found the midden-heap of a Lem-
ming family. It contained about four hundred pellets:
their colour and dryness, with the absence of grass,
showed that they dated from winter.

In the evening the four of us witnessed the tragic
end of a Lap-longspur. Pursued by a fierce Skua
Gull, it unfortunately dashed out over the lake. In

248 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

vain then it darted up and down, here and there, high
and low; the Skua followed even more quickly. A
second Skua came flying to help, but was not needed.
With a falcon-like swoop, the pirate seized the Long-
spur in his bill and bore it away to be devoured at the
nearest perch.

At 7.30 a. m., August 24, 1907, surrounded by scat-
tering Caribou, we pushed off from our camp at Sand
Hill Bay and began the return journey.

At Wolf-den Point we discovered a large and ancient
wolf-den in the rocks ; also abundance of winter sign of

Musk-ox. That day
we made forty miles
and camped for the
Tha-aa-koie from south night on the Sand

Hill Mountain in Tha-
na-koie, the channel that joins Aylmer and Clint on-
Colden. Here we were detained by high winds until
the 28th.

This island is a favourite Caribou crossing, and Billy
and Weeso had pitched their tents right on the place
selected by the Caribou for their highway. Next day,
while scanning the country from the top of the mount,
I saw three Caribou trotting along. They swam the
river and came toward me. As Billy and Weeso were
in their tents having an afternoon nap, I thought it
would be a good joke to stampede the Caribou on top
of them, so waited behind a rock, intending to jump
out as soon as they were past me. They followed the
main trail at a trot, and I leaped out with "horrid yells "
when they passed my rock, but now the unexpected

FACING HOMEWARD 249

happened. "In case of doubt take to the water" is
Caribou wisdom, so, instead of dashing madly into the
tents, they made three desperate down leaps and
plunged into the deep water, then calmly swam for
the other shore, a quarter of a mile away.

This island proved a good place for small mammals.
Here Preble got our first specimen of the White Lem-
ming. Large islands usually prove better for small
mammals than the mainland. They have the same
conditions to support life, but being moated by the
water are usually without the larger predatory quad-
rupeds.

The great central inland of Clinton-Colden proved
the best place of all for Groundsquirrels. Here we
actually found them in colonies.

On the 29th and 30th we paddled and surveyed with-
out ceasing and camped beyond the rapid at the exit
of Clinton-Colden. The next afternoon we made the
exit rapids of Casba Lake. Preble was preparing to
portage them, but asked Weeso, "Can we run them?"

Weeso landed, walked to a view-point, took a squint-
ing look and said, "Ugh!" (Yes). Preble rejoined,
"All right! If he says he can, he surely can. That's
the Indian of it. A white man takes risks; an Indian
will not; if it is risky he'll go around." So we ran
the rapids in safety.

Lighter each day, as the food was consumed, our
elegant canoe went faster. When not detained by
heavy seas 30 or 40 miles a day was our journe3T. On
August 30 we made our last 6 miles in one hour and
6| minutes. On September 2, in spite of head- winds,

250

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

we made 36 miles in 8J hours and in the evening we
skimmed over the glassy surface of Artillery Lake,
among its many beautiful islands and once more landed
at our old ground — the camp in the Last Woods.

Monument on Tha-na-Koie

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE FIRST WOODS

How shall I set forth the feelings it stirred? None but
the shipwrecked sailor, long drifting on the open sea,
but come at last to land, can fully know the thrill it
gave us. We were like starving Indians suddenly sur-
rounded by Caribou. Wood — timber — fuel — galore!
It was hard to realise — but there it was, all about us,
and in the morning we were awakened by the sweet,
sweet, home-like song of the Robins in the trees,
singing their "Cheerup, cheerily" just as they do it in
Ontario and Connecticut. Our cache was all right;
so our stock of luxuries was replenished. We now had
unlimited food as well as unlimited firewood; what
more could any one ask? Yet there was more. The
weather was lovely; perfect summer days, and the
mosquitoes were gone, yes, now actually nets and fly-
bars were discarded for good. On every side was ani-
mal life in abundance; the shimmering lake with its
Loons and islands would fit exactly the Indian's dream
of the heavenly hunting-grounds. These were the
happy halcyon days of the trip, and we stayed a week
to rest and revel in the joys about us.

In the morning I took a long walk over the familiar
hills ; the various skeletons we had left were picked bare,
evidently by Gulls and Ravens, as no bones were broken
and even the sinews were left. There were many fresh

251

252 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

tracks of single Caribou going here and there, but no
trails of large bands. I sent Weeso off to the Indian
village, two miles south. He returned to say that it
was deserted and that, therefore, the folk had gone
after the Caribou, which doubtless were now in the
woods south of Artillery Lake. Again the old man was
wholly astray in his Caribou forecast.

That night there was a sharp frost; the first we had
had. It made nearly half an inch of ice in all kettles.
Why is ice always thickest on the kettles? No doubt
because they hold a small body of very still water sur-
rounded by highly conductive metal.

Billy went 'Ho market" yesterday, killing a nice,
fat little Caribou. This morning on returning to bring
in the rest of the meat we found that a Wolverine had
been there and lugged the most of it away. The
tracks show that it was an old one accompanied by one
or maybe two young ones. We followed them some
distance but lost all trace in a long range of rocks.

The Wolverine is one of the tj^pical animals of the
far North. It has an unenviable reputation for being
the greatest plague that the hunter knows. Its habit
of following to destroy all traps for the sake of the bait
is the prime cause of man's hatred, and its cleverness
in eluding his efforts at retaliation give it still more
importance.

It is, above all, the dreaded enemy of a cache, and
as already seen, we took the extra precaution of put-
ting our caches up trees that were protected by a
necklace of fishhooks. Most Northern travellers have
regaled us with tales of this animal's diabolical clever-

A Wolverine and her cubs stealing <>ur Caribou meal

THE FIRST WOODS 253

ness and wickedness. If is fair to say that the malice,
at least, is not proven; and there is a good side to
Wolverine character that should be emphasized; that

is, its nearly ideal family life, coupled with the heroic
bravery of the mother. I say "nearly" ideal, for so
far as I can learn, the father does not assist in rear-
ing the young. But all observers agree that the
mother is absolutely fearless and devoted. More
than one of the hunters have assured me that it is
safer to molest a mother Bear than a mother Wolver-
ine when accompanied by the cubs.

Bellalise, a half-breed of Chipewyan, told me that
twice he had found Wolverine dens, and been seriously
endangered by the mother. The first was in mid-
May, 1904, near Fond du Lac, north side of Lake
Athabaska. He went out with an Indian to bring
in a skiff left some miles off on the shore. He had no
gun, and was surprised by coming on an old Wolverine
in a slight hollow under the boughs of a green spruce.
She rushed at him, showing all her teeth, her eyes
shining blue, and uttering sounds like those of a Bear.
The Indian boy hit her once with a stick, then swung
himself out of danger up a tree. Bellalise ran off after
getting sight of the young ones; they were four in
number, about the size of a Muskrat, and pure white.
Their eyes were open. The nest was just such as a
dog might make, only six inches deep and lined with a
little dry grass. Scattered around were bones and fur,
chiefly of Rabbits.

The second occasion was in 1005, within three miles
of Chipewyan, and, as before, about the middle of May.

254

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

^^SSSsS&x

Foot of a Barren-Ground Caribou

The nest was much like the first one; the mother saw
him coming, and charged furiously, uttering a sort of
coughing. He shot her dead; then captured the
young and examined the nest; there were three
young this time. They were white like the others.

Not far from this camp, we found a remarkable
midden-yard of Lemmings. It was about 10 feet by

40 feet, the ground
within the limits was
thickly strewn with
pellets, at the rate of
14 to the square inch,
but nowhere were
they piled up. At
this reckoning, there
were over 800,000, but there were also many outside,
which probably raised the number to 1,000,000. Each
pellet was long, brown, dry, and curved, i.e., the winter
type. The place, a high, dry, very sheltered hollow,
was evidently the winter range of a colony of Lem-
mings that in summer went elsewhere, I suppose to
lower, damper grounds.

After sunset, September 5, a bunch of three or
four Caribou trotted past the tents between us and the
Lake, 200 yards from us; Billy went after them, as,
thanks to the Wolverine, we were out of meat, and at
one shot secured a fine young buck.

His last winter's coat was all shed now, his ears
were turning white and the white areas were expand-
ing on feet and buttocks; his belly was pure white.
On his back and rump, chiefly the latter, were the

THE FIRST WOODS 255

scars of 121 bots. I could not see that they affected
the skin or hair in the least.

Although all of these Caribou seem to have the nor-
mal foot-click, Preble and I worked in vain with the feet
of this dead one to make the sound; we could not by any
combination of movement, or weight or simulation of
natural conditions, produce anything like a "click."

That same day, as we sat on a hill, a cow Caribou
came curiously toward us. At 100 yards she circled
slowly, gazing till she got the wind 150 yards to one
side, then up went her tail and off she trotted a quarter
of a mile, but again drew nearer, then circled as before
till a second time the wind warned her to flee. This
she did three or four times before trotting away; the
habit is often seen.

Next afternoon, Billy and I saw a very large buck ;
his neck was much swollen, his beard flowing and nearly
white. He sighted us afar, and worked north-west
away from us, in no great alarm. I got out of sight,
ran a mile and a half, headed him off, then came on
him from the north, but in spite of all I could do by
running and yelling, he and his band (3 cows with 3
calves) rushed galloping between me and the lake, 75
yards away, lie was too foxy to be driven back into
that suspicious neighbourhood.

Thus we had fine opportunities for studying wild life.
In all these days there was only one unfulfilled desire:
I had not seen the great herd of Caribou returning to
the woods that are their winter range.

This herd is said to rival in numbers the Buffalo
herds of story, to reach farther than the eye can see,

25G

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and to be days in passing a given point ; but it is utterly
erratic. It might arrive in early September. It was
not sure to arrive until late October, when the winter
had begun. This year all the indications were that it
would be late. If we were to wait for it, it would mean
going out on the ice. For this we were wholly unpre-
pared. There were no means of getting the necessary
dogs, sleds, and fur garments; my business was calling
me back to the East. It was useless to discuss the
matter, decision was forced on me. Therefore, without
having seen that great sight, one of the world's tremen-
dous zoological spectacles — the march in one body of
millions of Caribou — I reluctantly gave the order to
start. On September 8 we launched the Ann Seton
on her homeward voyage of 1,200 upstream miles.

Front left foot of caribou showing Food of groundsquirrels. Antlers
position of backward and forward of Caribou

stroke when swimming

CHAPTER XXXIX

FAREWELL TO THE CARIBOU

All along the shore of Artillery Lake we saw small
groups of Caribou. They were now in fine coat; the
manes on the males were long and white and we saw
two with cleaned antlers; in one these were of a brill-
iant red, which I suppose meant that they were cleaned
that day and still blood}'.

We arrived at the south end of Artillery Lake that
night, and were now again in the continuous woods —
what spindly little stuff it looked when we left it ; what
superb forest it looked now — and here we bade good-
bye to the prairies and their Caribou.

Now, therefore, I shall briefly summarise the informa-
tion I gained about this notable creature. The species
ranges over all the treeless plains and islands of Arctic
America. While the great body is migratory, there are
scattered individuals in all parts at all seasons. The
main body winters in the sheltered southern third of
the range, to avoid the storms, and moves north in the
late spring, to avoid the plagues of deer-flies and mos-
quitoes. The former are found chiefly in the woods,
the latter arc bad everywhere; by travelling against
the wind a certain measure of relief is secured, northerly
winds prevail, so the Caribou are kept travelling north-
ward. When there is no wind, the instinctive habit
of migration doubtless directs the general movement.

257

258 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

How are we to form an idea of their numbers? The
only way seems to be by watching the great migration
to its winter range. For the reasons already given this
was impossible in my case, therefore, I array some of
the known facts that will evidence the size of the herd.

Warburton Pike, who saw them at Mackay Lake,
October 20, 1889, says: "I cannot believe that the
herds [of Buffalo] on the prairie ever surpassed in size
La Foule (the throng) of the Caribou. La Foule had
really come, and during its passage of six days I was
able to realize what an extraordinary number of these
animals still roam the Barren Grounds."

From figures and facts given me by H. T. Munn, of
Brandon, Manitoba, I reckon that in three weeks fol-
lowing July 25, 1892, he saw at Artillery Lake (N. lati-
tude 62^°, W. Long. 112°) not less than 2,000,000 Car-
ibou travelling southward; he calls this merely the
advance guard of the great herd. Colonel Jones (Buf-
falo Jones), who saw the herd in October at Clin-
ton-Colden, has given me personally a description that
furnishes the basis for an interesting calculation of their
numbers.

He stood on a hill in the middle of the passing throng,
with a clear view ten miles each way and it was one
army of Caribou. How much further they spread, he
did not know. Sometimes they were bunched, so that
a hundred were on a space one hundred feet square;
but often there would be spaces equally large without
any. They averaged at least one hundred Caribou to
the acre; and they passed him at the rate of about
three miles an hour. He did not know how long they

FAREWELL TO THE CARIBOU

259

were in passing this point; but at another place they
were four days, and travelled day and night. The
whole world seemed a moving mass of Caribou. He
got the impression at last that they were standing still
and he was on a rocky hill that was rapidly running
through their hosts.

Even halving these figures, to keep on the safe side,
we find that the number of Caribou in this army was
over 25,000,000. Yet it is possible that there are sev-
eral such armies. In which ease they must indeed out-
number the Buffalo in their palmiest epoch. So much
for their abundance to-day. To what extent are they
being destroyed? I looked into this question with care.

First, of the Indian destruction. In 1812 the Chipc-
wyan population, according to Kennicott, was 7,500.
Thomas Anderson, of Fort Smith, showed me a census
of the Mackenzie River Indians, which put them at
3,961 in 1884. Official returns of the Canadian govern-

; give them in rJU

o at

6,4

til,

tolJc

)WS

Peel

400

Arctic Red River

100

Good Hope.
Norman

500
300

Wrigley

100

Simpson

300

Rae

800

Liard and Nelson

400

Yello\vkniv<\s

151

Dogribs

123

Chipewyans

123

Hay River .

114

3,411

2G0 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Of these the Hay River and Liard Indians, number-
ing about 500, can scarcely be considered Caribou-
eaters, so that the Indian population feeding on Cari-
bou to-day is about 3,000, less than half what it was
100 years ago.

Of these not more than 600 are hunters. The traders
generally agree that the average annual kill of Caribou
is about 10 or 20 per man, not more. When George
Sanderson, of Fort Resolution, got 75 one year, it was
the talk of the country ; many got none. Thus 20,000
per annum killed by the Indians is a liberal estimate
to-day.

There has been so much talk about destruction by
whalers that I was careful to gather all available in-
formation. Several travellers who had visited Her-
shell Island told me that four is the usual number
of whalers that winter in the north-east of Point Bar-
row. Sometimes, but rarely, the number is increased
to eight or ten, never more. They buy what Caribou
they can from Eskimo, sometimes aggregating 300 or
400 carcasses in a winter, and would use more if they
could get them, but they cannot, as the Caribou herds
are then far south. This, E. Sprake Jones, William
Hay, and others, are sure represents fairly the annual
destruction by whalers on the north coast. Only one
or two vessels of this traffic go into Hudson's Bay, and
these with those of Hershell are all that touch Caribou
country, so that the total destruction by whalers must
be under 1,000 head per annum.

The Eskimo kill for their own use. Franz Boas
("Handbook of American Indians") gives the number

FAREWELL TO THE CARIBOU 261

of Eskimo in the central region at 1,100. Of these
not more than 300 are hunters. If we allow their de-
struction to equal that of the 600 Indians, it is liberal,
giving a total of 40,000 Caribou killed by native hunt-
ers. As the whites rarely enter the region, this is
practically all the destruction by man. The annual
increase of 30,000,000 Caribou must be several mil-
lions and would so far overbalance the hunter toll
that the latter cannot make any permanent difference.

There is, moreover, good evidence that the native
destruction has diminished. As already seen, the
tribes which hunt the Barren-Ground Caribou, number
less than one-half of what they did 100 years ago.
Since then, they have learned to use the rifle, and this,
I am assured by all the traders, has lessened the des-
truction. By the old method, with the spear in the
water, or in the pound trap, one native might kill 100
Caribou in one day, during the migrations; but these
methods called for woodcraft and were very laborious.
The rifle, being much easier, has displaced the spear;
but there is a limit to its destruction, especially with
cartridges at five cents to seven cents each, and, as
already seen, the hunters do not average 20 Caribou
each in a year.

Thus, all the known facts point to a greatly dimin-
ished slaughter to-day when compared with that of 100
years ago. This, then, is my summary of the Barren-
Ground Caribou between the Mackenzie River and
Hudson's Bay. They number over 30,000,000, and
may be double of that. They are in primitive condi-
tions and probably never more numerous than now.

262

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

The native destruction is less now than formerly and
never did make any perceptible difference.

Finally, the matter has by no means escaped the at-
tention of the wide-awake Canadian government rep-
resented by the Minister of the Interior and the Royal
North-west Mounted Police. It could not be in better
hands; and there is no reason to fear in any degree
a repetition of the Buffalo slaughter that disgraced
the plains of the United States.

Barren-Ground Caribou

Old Fort Reliance in background, September 13. 1907

CHAPTER XL

OLD FORT RELIANCE TO FORT RESOLUTION

All night the storm of rain and snow raged around our
camp on the south shore of Artillery Lake, 1ml we were
up and away in the morning in spite of it. That day
we covered five portages (they took two days in coming
out). Next day we crossed Lake Harry and camped
three-quarters of a mile farther on the long portage.
Next day, September 11, we camped (still in storm)
at the Lobstick Landing of Great Slave Lake. How
tropically rich all this vegetation looked after the
"Land of little sticks." Ilain we could face, but high
winds on the big water were dangerous, so we were
storm-bound until September 14, when we put off,
and in two hours were at old Fort Reliance, the winter
quarters of Sir George Back in 1833-4. In the Far
North the word "old" means " abandoned" and the
fort, abandoned long ago, had disappeared, except the
great stone chimneys. Around one of these that in-
trepid explorer and hunter — Buffalo Jones — had built a
shanty in 1897. There it stood in fairly good condit ion,
a welcome shelter from the storm which now set in with
redoubled fury. We soon had the big fireplace aglow
and sitting there in comfort that we owed to him. and
surrounded by the skeletons of the Wolves that he had
killed about the door in that fierce winter time, we

263

264

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

drank in hot and copious tea the toast: "Long life
and prosperity to our host so far away, the brave old
hunter, Buffalo Jones."

The woods were beautiful and abounded with life,
and the three days we spent there were profitably
devoted to collecting, but on September 17 we

Old Fort Reliance from north

crossed the bay, made the short portage, and at night
camped 32 miles away, on the home track.

Next morning we found a camp of Indians down to
the last of their food. We supplied them with flour
and tobacco. They said that no Caribou had come to
the Lake, showing how erratic is the great migration.

In the afternoon we came across another band in
still harder luck. They had nothing whatever but
the precarious catch of the nets, and this was the off-
season. Again we supplied them, and these were
among the unexpected emergencies for which our care-
fully guarded supplies came in.

In spite of choppy seas we made from 30 to 35 miles
a day, and camped on Tal-thel-lay the evening of
September 20. That night as I sat by the fire the
moon rose in a clear sky and as I gazed on her calm
bright disc something seemed to tell me that at that

FORTKKLIAWKTo FORT RESOLUTION 265

Old Fort Reliance from east

moment the dear ones far away were also looking on
that radiant face.

On the 21st we were storm-bound at Et-then Island,
but utilised the time collecting. I gathered a lot of
roots of Pulsa-
tilla and Ca-
lypso. Here
Bill}' amused
us by catching
Wiskajons in
an old-fashioned springle that dated from the days
when guns were unknown; but the captured birds
came back fearlessly each time after being released.

All that day we had to lie about camp, keeping un-
der cover on account of the rain. It was dreary work
listening to the surf ceaselessly pounding the shore
and realising that all these precious hours were needed

to bring us to Fort
Resolution, where the
steamer was to meet
us on the 25th.

On the 23d it was
calmer and we got
away in the gray dawn
at 5.45. We were now in Weeso's country, and yet he
ran us into a singular pocket that I have called Woeso's
Trap — a straight glacial groove a mile long that came
to a sudden end and we had to go back that mile.

The old man was much mortified over his blunder,
but he did not feel half so badly about it as I did, for
every hour was precious now.

Old Fort Reliance from south

206 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

What a delight it was to feel our canoe skimming

along under the four paddles. Three times as fast we

trav lied now as when we came out with the bigger

boat; 5| miles an hour was frequently our rate and

when we camped that

r , , — n*** -1w**4ft night we had covered

,xyds • -. ra 47 miles since dawn.

*** GO On Kahdinouay

we camped and again

a storm arose to

%ru!™ pound and bluster

all night. In spite of

a choppy sea next

L§ £cht*htj stt^ clay we reached the

>n". wit --- i^ small isiand be_

Plan of old Fort Reliance fore the final cross-

ing; and here, per-
force, we stayed to await a calmer sea. Later we
heard that during this very storm a canoe-load of
Indians attempted the crossing and upset ; none were
swimmers, all were drowned.

We were not the only migrants hurrying southward.
Here for the first time in my life I saw Wild Swans, six
in a flock. They were heading southward and flew
not in very orderly array, but ever changing, occasion-
ally forming the triangle after the manner of Geese.
They differ from Geese in flapping more slowly, from
White Cranes in flapping faster, and seemed to vibrate
only the tips of the wings. This was on the 23d. Next
day we saw another flock of seven; I suppose that in
each case it was the old one and young of the year.

FORT RELIANCE TO FORT RESOLUTION 2G7

As they flew they uttered three different notes: a deep
horn-like "too" or "coo," a higher pitched "coo" and
a warble-like "tootle-tootle" or sometimes simply "tee-
tee." Maybe the last did not come from the Swans,
but no other birds were near; I suppose that these
three styles of
notes came from
male, female,
and young.

Next morning
7 flocks of Swans
flew overhead
toward the
south-west. They
totalled 46; 12
were the most in
one flock. In
this large flock I
saw a quarrel. No. 2 turned back and struck No. 3,
his long neck bent and curled like a snake, both
dropped downward several feet then 3, 4 and 5 left
that flock. I suspect they were of another family.

But, later, as we entered the river mouth we had a
thrilling glimpse of Swan life. Flock after flock came
in view as we rounded the rush beds ; 12 flocks in all
we saw, none had less than 5 in it, nearly 100 Swans in
sight at once, and all rose together with a mighty flap-
ping of strong, white wings, and the chorus of the
insignificant " too-too-tees" sailed farther southward,
probably to make the great Swan tryst on Hay
River.

Back's chimney in Buffalo Jones's cabin

268

THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

No doubt these were the same 12 flocks as those
observed on the previous days, but still it rejoiced my
heart to see even that many. I had feared that the
species was far gone on the trail of the Passenger
Pigeon.

But this is anticipating. We were camped still on
the island north of the traverse, waiting for possible

water. All day we watched
in vain, all night the surf
kept booming, but at three
in the morning the wind
dropped, at four it was obvi-
ously calmer. I called the
boys and we got away be-
fore six; dashing straight
south in spite of rolling seas
we crossed the 15-mile stretch
in 3f hours, and turning west-
ward reached Stony Island
by noon. Thence southward
through ever calmer water our gallant boat went spin-
ning, reeling off the level miles up the river channel,
and down again on its south-west branch, in a glorious
red sunset, covering in one day the journeys of four
during our outgoing, in the supposedly far speedier York
boat. Faster and faster we seemed to fly, for we had
the grand incentive that we must catch the steamer at
any price that night. Weeso now, for the first time,
showed up strong; knowing every yard of the way he
took advantage of every swirl of the river; in and out
among the larger islands we darted, and when we

Billy's springle

FORT RELIANCE TO FORT RESOLUTION 269

should have stopped for the night no man said "Stop,"
but harder we paddled. We could smell the steamer
smoke, we thought, and pictured her captain eagerly

Flocks of Swans

scanning the offing for our flying canoe; it was most
inspiring and the Ann Scion jumped up to G miles an
hour for a time. So we went; the night came down,
but far away were the glittering lights of Fort Resolu-
tion, and the Bteamer that should end our toil. How
cheering. The skilly pilot and the lusty paddler

270 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

slacked not — 40 miles we had come that day — and
when at last some 49, nearly 50, paddled miles brought
us stiff and weary to the landing it was only to learn
that the steamer, notwithstanding bargain set and
agreed on, had gone south two days before.

CHAPTER XLI
GOING UP THE LOWER SLAVE

What we thought about the steamboat official who
was responsible for our dilemma we did not need to
put into words; for every one knew of the bargain and
its breach: nearly every one present had protested
at the time, and the hardest things I felt like saying
were mild compared with the things already said by
that official's own colleagues. But these things were
forgotten in the hearty greetings of friends and bun-
dles of letters from home. It was eight o'clock, and
of course black night when we landed; yet it was
midnight when we thought of sleep.

Fort Resolution is always dog-town; and now it
seemed at its worst. When the time came to roll up
in our blankets, we were fully possessed of the camper's
horror of sleeping indoors; but it was too dark to put
up a tent and there was not a square foot of ground
anywhere near that was not polluted and stinking of
" dog-sign," so very unwillingly I broke my long spell
of sleeping out, on this 131st day, and passed the night
on the floor of the Hudson's Bay Company house. I
had gone indoors to avoid the "dog-sign" and next
morning found, alas, that I had been lying all night
on " cat-sign."

I say lying; I did not sleep. The closeness of the
room; in spite of an open window, the novelty, the

271

272 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

smells, combined with the excitement of letters from
home, banished sleep until morning came, and, of
course, I got a bad cold, the first I had had all sum-
mer.

Here I said " good-bye" to old Weeso. He grinned
affably, and when I asked what he would like for a
present said, "Send me an axe like yours. " There were
three things in my outfit that aroused the cupidity of
nearly every Indian, the Winchester rifle, the Peter-
boro canoe and the Marble axe, "the axe that swallows
its face." Weeso had a rifle, we could not spare or
send him a canoe, so I promised to send him the axe.
Post is slow, but it reached him six months later and
I doubt not is even now doing active service.

Having missed the last steamer, we must go on by
canoe. Canoeing up the river meant "tracking" all
the way; that is, the canoe must be hauled up with a
line, by a man walking on the banks; hard work need-
ing not only a strong, active man, but one who knows
the river. Through the kindness of J. McLeneghan,
of the Swiggert Trading Company, I was spared the
horrors of my previous efforts to secure help at Fort
Resolution, and George Sanderson, a strong young
half-breed, agreed to take me to Fort Smith for $2.00
a day and means of returning. George was a famous
hunter and fisher, and a "good man" to travel. I
marked his broad shoulders and sinewy, active form
with joy, especially in view of his reputation. In one
respect he was different from all other half-breeds that
I ever knew — he always gave a straight answer. Ask
an ordinary half-breed, or western white man, indeed,

GOING UP THE LOWER SLAVE 273

how far it is to such a point, his reply commonly i.^
"Oh, not so awful far," or "It is quite a piece," or
"It aint such a hell of a ways," conveying to the
stranger no shadow of idea whether it is a hundred
yards, a mile, or a week's travel. Again and again
when Sanderson was asked how far it was to a given
place, he would pause and say, "Three miles and a
half," or "Little more than eight miles," as the case
might be. The usual half-breed when asked if we
could make such a point by noon would say "Maybe.
I don't know. It is quite a piece." Sanderson would
say, "Yes," or "No, not by two miles," according to
circumstances; and his information was always correct;
he knew the river "like a book."

On the afternoon of September 27 we left "Dog-
town" with Sanderson in Wceso's place and began
our upward journey. George proved as good as his
reputation. The way that active fellow would stride
along the shore, over logs and brush, around fallen trees,
hauling the canoe against stream some three or four
miles an hour was perfectly fine; and each night my
heart was glad and sang the old refrain, "A day's
march nearer home."

The toil of this tracking is second only to that of
portageing. The men usually relieve each other every
30 minutes. So Billy and George were the team. If I
were going again into that country and had my choice
these two again would be my crew.

Once or twice I took the track-line myself for a quar-
ter of an hour, but it did not appeal to me as a per-

274 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

manent amusement. It taught me one thing that I
did not suspect, namely, that it is much harder to haul
a canoe with three inches of water under her keel than

tf&

"'f

Lynx tracks

>'/,

Musk-ox tracks a. Moose track in rocky country

b. The same in muddy country

with three feet. In the former case, the attraction
of the bottom is most powerful and evident. The
experience also explained the old sailor phrase about
the vessel feeling the bottom: this I had often heard,
but never before comprehended.

All day we tracked, covering 20 to 25 miles between
camps and hourly making observations on the wild life
of the river. Small birds and mammals were evidently

[Fox swimming Slave River. October 4, 1907

much more abundant than in spring, and the broad,
muddy, and sandy reaches of the margin were tracked
over by Chipmunks, Weasels, Foxes, Lynxes, Bear,
and Moose.

GOING UP THE LOWER SLAVE 275

A Lynx, which we surprised on a sand-bar, took to
the water without hesitation and swam to the main-
land. It went as fast as a dog, but not nearly so fast
as a Caribou. A large Fox that we saw crossing the
river proved very inferior to the Lynx in swimming
speed.

The two portages, Ennuyeux and Detour, were duly
passed, and on the morning of October 3, as we trav-
elled, a sailboat hove into sight. It held Messrs.
Thomas Christy, C. Harding, and Stagg. We were now
within 1J days of Fort Smith, so I took advantage of
the opportunity to send Sanderson back. On the
evening of the 3d we came to Salt River, and there
we saw Pierre Squirrel with his hundred dogs and at
1 p. m., October 4, arrived at Fort Smith.

Tracks of Blackbear, Athabaska Itivor

CHAPTER XLII

FORT SMITH AND THE TUG

Here again we had the unpleasant experience of sleep-
ing indoors, a miserable, sleepless, stifling night, fol-
lowed by the inevitable cold.

Next day we rode with our things over the portage
to Smith Landing. I had secured the tug Ariel to
give us a lift, and at 7 p. m., October 5, pulled out
for the next stretch of the river, ourselves aboard
the tug, the canoe with a cargo towed behind.

That night we slept at the saw-mill, perforce, and
having had enough of indoors, I spread my blankets
outside, with the result, as I was warned, that every
one of the numerous dogs came again and again, and
passed his opinion on my slumbering form. Next
night we selected an island to camp on, the men did
not want to stay on the mainland, for "the woods are
full of mice and their feet are so cold when they run
over your face as you sleep." We did not set up our
tents that time but lay on the ground; next morning
at dawn, when I looked around, the camp was like a
country graveyard, for we were all covered with leaves,
and each man was simply a long mound. The dawn
came up an ominous rose-red. I love not the rosy
dawn; a golden dawn or a chill-blue dawn is happy,
but I fear the dawn of rose as the red head-light of a

276

The (•.■imp was like a countr) graveyard

FORT SMITH AND TIM! THJ 277

storm. It came; by 8.30 the rain had set in and
steadily fell all day.

The following morning we had our first accident.
The steamer with the loaded canoe behind was rushing

up a rapid. A swirl of water upset the eanoe, and all
our large packs were afloat. All were quickly recovered
except a bag of salted skins. These sank and were
seen no more.

On October 9 we arrived at Fort Chipewyan. As
we drew near that famous place of water-fowl, the long
strings and massed flocks of various geese and ducks
grew more and more plentiful; and at the Fort itself
we found their metropolis. The Hudson's Bay Com-
pany had killed and salted about 600 Waveys or Snow
Geese; each of the Loutit families, about 500; not less
than 12,000 Waveys will be salted clown this fall, be-
sides Honkers, White-fronts and Ducks. Each year
they reckon on about 10,000 Waveys, in poor years
the\- take 0,000 to 6,000, in fat years 15,000. The
Snow and White-fronted Geese all had the white parts
of the head more or less stained with orange. Only one
Blue Goose had been taken. This I got ; it is a western-
most record. No Swans had been secured this year;
in fact, I am told that they are never taken in the fall
because they never come this way, though they visit
the cast end of the lake; in the spring they come by
here and about 20 are taken each year. Chipewyan
was Billy Loutit's home, and the family gave a dance
in honour of the wanderer's return. Here I secured a
tall half-breed, Gregoire Daniell, usually kno\vrn as
"Bellalisc," to go with me as far as Athabaska Landing.

278 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

There was no good reason why we should not leave
Chipewyan in three hours. But the engineer of my
tug had run across an old friend ; they wanted to have
a jollification, as of course the engine was " hopelessly
out of order." But we got away at 7 next day — my
four men and the tug's three. At the wheel was a
half-breed — David MacPherson — who is said to be a
natural-born pilot, and the best in the country. Al-
though he never was on the Upper Slave before, and
it is an exceedingly difficult stream with its intermin-
able, intricate, shifting shallows, crooked, narrow
channels, and impenetrable muddy currents, his "nose
for water" is so good that he brought us through at
full speed without striking once. Next time he will be
qualified to do it by night.

In the grove where we camped after sundown were
the teepee and shack of an Indian (Chipewyan) Brayno
(probably Brenaud). This is his hunting and trapping
ground, and has been for years. No one poaches on it;
that is unwritten law; a man may follow a wounded
animal into his neighbour's territory, but not trap
there. The nearest neighbour is 10 miles off. He gets
3 or 4 Silver Foxes every year, a few Lynx, Otter, Mar-
ten, etc.

Bellalise was somewhat of a character. About 6
feet 4 in height, with narrow, hollow chest, very large
hands and feet and a nervous, restless way of flinging
himself about. He struck me as a man who was killing
himself with toil beyond his physical strength. He was
strongly recommended by the Hudson's Bay Company
people as a "good man." I liked his face and manners,

FORT SMITH AND THE TUG 279

he was an intelligent companion, and I was glad to have
secured him. At the first and second camps he worked
hard. At the next he ceased work suddenly and went
aside; his stomach was upset. A few hours afterwards
he told me he was feeling ill. The engineer, who
wanted him to cut wood, said to me, "That man
is shamming." My reply was short: "You have
known him for months, and think he is shamming;
I have known him for hours and I know he is not that
kind of a man"

He told me next morning, "It's no use, I got my
breast crushed by the tug a couple of weeks ago, I
have no strength. At Fort McKay is a good man
named Jiarobia, he will go with you."

So when the tug left us Bellalise refunded his ad-
vance and returned to Chipewvan. He was one of
those that made me think well of his people; and his
observations on the wild life of the country showed
that he had a tongue to tell, as well as eyes to see.

That morning, besides the calls of Honkers and
Waveys we heard the glorious trumpeting of the White
Crane. It has less rattling croak and more whoop
than that of the Brown Crane. Bellalise says that
every year a few come to Chipewvan, then go north
with the Waveys to breed. In the fall they come
back for a month; they are usually in flocks of three
and four; two old ones and their offspring, the latter
known by their brownish colour. If you get the two
old ones the young ones arc easily killed, as they keep
flying low over the place.

Is this then the secret of its disappearance? and is it

280 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

on these far breeding grounds that man has proved
too hard?

At Lobstick Point, 2 p. m., October 13, the tug
turned back and we three continued our journey as
before, Preble and Billy taking turns at tracking the
canoe.

Next day we reached Fort McKay and thus marked
another important stage of the journey.

CHAPTER XLIII

FORT McKAY AND JIAROBIA

Fort McKay was the last point at which we saw the
Chipewyan style of teepee, and the first where the Cree
appeared. But its chief interest to us lay in the fact
that it was the home of Jiarobia, a capable river-man
who wished to go to Athabaska Landing. The first
thing that struck us about Jiarobia — whose dictionary
name by the way is Elzear Robillard — was that his
house had a good roof and a large pile of wood ready
cut. These were extremely important indications in
a land of improvidence. Robillard was a thin, active,
half-breed of very dark skin. He was willing to go for
$2.00 a day the round trip (18 days) plus food and a
boat to return with. But a difficulty now appeared;
Madame Robillard, a tall, dark half-breed woman,
objected: "Elzear had been away all summer, he
should stay home now." "If you go I will run off into
the backwoods with the first wild Indian that wants a
squaw," she threatened. "Now," said Rob, in choice
English, "I am up against it." She did not under-
stand English, but she could read looks and had some
French, so I took a hand.

"If Madame will consent I will advance $15.00 of
her husband's pay and will let her select the finest silk
handkerchief in the Hudson's Bay store for a present."

In about three minutes her Cree eloquence died a

281

282 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

natural death; she put a shawl on her head and
stepped toward the door without looking at me. Rob
nodded to me, and signed to go to the Hudson's Bay
store; by which I inferred that the case was won;
we were going now to select the present. To my
amazement she turned from all the bright-coloured
goods and selected a large black silk handkerchief.

The men tell me it is always so now; fifty years ago
every woman wanted red things. Now all want black;
and the traders who made the mistake of importing
red have had to import dyes and dip them all.

Jiarobia, or, as we mostly call him, "Rob," proved a
most amusing character as well as a "good man" and
the reader will please note that nearly all of my single
help were "good men." Only when I had a crowd
was there trouble. His store of anecdote was un-
bounded and his sense of humour ever present, if
broad and simple. He talked in English, French, and
Cree, and knew a good deal of Chipewyan. Many of
his personal adventures would have fitted admirably
into the Decameron, but are scarcely suited for this
narrative. One evening he began to sing, I listened
intently, thinking maybe I should pick up some an-
cient chanson of the voyageurs or at least a wood-
man's "Come-all-ye." Alas! it proved to be nothing
but the "Whistling Coon."

Which reminds me of another curious experience
at the village of Fort Smith. I saw a crowd of the In-
dians about a lodge and strange noises proceeding
therefrom. When I went over the folk made way for
me. I entered, sat down, and found that they were

FORT McKAY AND JIAROBIA

2S3

crowded around a cheap gramophone which was hawk-
ing, spitting and screeching some awful rag-time music
and nigger jigs. I could forgive the traders for bring-
ing in the gramo-
phone, but why, oh,
why, did they not
bring some of the
simple world-wide
human songs which
could at least have
had an educational
effect? The Indian
group listened to this
weird inst rumen t with
the profoundest grav-
ity. If there is any-
thing inherently com-
ic in our low comics
it was entirely lost on
them.
One of Rob's amusing fireside tricks was thus: He
put his hands together, so: (illustration). ''Now de
tumbs is you and your fader, de first finger is you
and your mudder, ze next is you and your sister, ze
little finger is you and your brudder, ze ring finger is
you and your sweetheart. You and your fader sepa-
rate easy, like dat ; you and your brudder like dat, you
and your sister like dat, dat's easy; you and your
mudder like dat, dat's not so easy; but you and
your sweetheart cannot part widout all everything
go to hell first."

284 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

Later, as we passed the American who lives at Fort
McMurray, Jiarobia said to me: "Dat man is the
biggest awful liar on de river. You should hear him
talk. 'One day,' he said, Mere was a big stone floating
up de muddy river and on it was tree men, and one
was blind and one was plumb naked and one had no
arms nor legs, and de blind man he looks down on
bottom of river an see a gold watch, an de cripple he
reach out and get it, and de naked man he put it in
his pocket.' Now any man talk dat way he one most
awful liar, it is not possible, any part, no how."

CHAPTER XLIV

THE RIVER

Now we resumed our daily life of tracking, eating,
tracking, camping, tracking, sleeping. The weather
had continued fine, with little change ever since we left
Resolution, and we were so hardened to the life that
it was pleasantly monotonous.

How different now were my thoughts compared with
those of last Spring, as I first looked on this great river.

When we had embarked on the leaping, boiling,
muddy Athabaska, in this frail canoe, it had seemed a
foolhardy enterprise. How could such a craft ride
such a stream for 2,000 miles? It was like a mouse
mounting a monstrous, untamed, plunging and rear-
ing horse. Now we set out each morning, familiar
with stream and our boat, having no thought of danger,
and viewing the water, the same turbid flood, as our
servant. Even as a skilful tamer will turn the wildest
horse into his willing slave, so have we conquered this
river and made it the bearer of our burdens. So I
thought and wrote at the time; but the wise tamer is
ever alert, never lulled into false security. He knows
that a heedless move may turn his Mrvd into a deadly,
dangerous monster. We had our lesson to learn.

That night (October 15) there was a dull yellow
sunset. The morning came with a strong north wind
and rain that turned to snow, and with it great flocks

285

286 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

of birds migrating from the Athabaska Lake. Many
rough-legged Hawks, hundreds of small land birds,
thousands of Snow-birds in flocks of 20 to 200, myriads
of Ducks and Geese, passed over our heads going south-
ward before the frost. About 8.30 the Geese began to
pass in ever-increasing flocks; between 9.45 and 10 I

A S \ A

A a \V>

Flocks of Snow-Geese passing southward

counted 114 flocks averaging about 30 each (5 to 300)
and they kept on at this rate till 2 p. m. This would give
a total of nearly 100,000 Geese. It was a joyful thing
to see and hear them; their legions in flight array
went stringing high aloft, so high they looked not
like Geese, but threads across the sky, the cobwebs,
indeed, that Mother Carey was sweeping away with her
north-wind broom. I sketched and counted flock after
flock with a sense of thankfulness that so many were
left alive. Most were White Geese, but a twentieth,
perhaps, were Honkers.

THE RIVER 287

The Ducks began to pass over about noon, and be-
came more numerous than the Geese as they went on.

In the midst of this myriad procession, as though
they were the cent re and cause of all, were two splendid
White Cranes, bugling as they flew. Later that day
we saw another band, of three, but these were all;
their race is nearly run.

The full moon was on and all night the wild-fowl
flew. The frost was close behind them, sharp and sud-
den. Next morning the ponds about us had ice an
inch thick and we heard of it three inches at other
places.

But the sun came out gloriously and when at ten
we landed at Fort M< -Murray the day was warm and
perfect in its autumnal peace.

Miss Gordon, the postmaster, did not recognise us
at first. She said we all looked "so much older, it is
always so with folks who go north."

Next morning we somehow left our tent behind.
It was old and of little value, so we did not go back,
and the fact that we never really needed it speaks
much for the sort of weather we had to the end of the
trip.

A couple of Moose (cow and calf) crossed the river
ahead of us, and Billy went off in hot pursuit; but saw
no more of them.

Tracks of animals were extremely abundant on the
shore here. Large Wolves became quite numerous,
evidently we were now in their country. Apparently
they had killed a Moose, as their dung was full of Moose
hair.

288 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

We were now in the Canyon of the Athabaska and
from this on our journey was a fight with the rapids.
One by one my skilful boatmen negotiated them; either
we tracked up or half unloaded, or landed and portaged,
but it was hard and weary work. My journal entry
for the night of the 18th runs thus:

" I am tired of troubled waters. All day to-day and
for five days back we have been fighting the rapids of
this fierce river. My place is to sit in the canoe-bow
with a long pole, glancing here and there, right, left,
and ahead, watching ever the face of this snarling
river; and when its curling green lips apart betray a
yellow brown gleam of deadly teeth too near, it is my
part to ply with might and main that pole, and push
the frail canoe aside to where the stream is in milder,
kindlier mood. Oh, I love not a brawling river any
more than a brawling woman, and thoughts of the
broad, calm Slave, with its majestic stretches of level
flood, are now as happy halcyon memories of a bright
and long-gone past."

My men were skilful and indefatigable. One by
one we met the hard rapids in various ways, mostly by
portaging, but on the morning of the 19th we came
to one so small and short that all agreed the canoe could
be forced by with poles and track-line. It looked an
insignificant ripple, no more than a fish might make
with its tail, and what happened in going up, is re-
corded as follows:

CHAPTER XLV

THE RIVER SHOWS ITS TEETH

"Oct. 20, 1907. — Athabaska River. In the Canyon.
This has been a day of horrors and mercies. We left
the camp early, 6.55 — long before sunrise, and portaged
the first rapid. About 9 we came to the middle rapid;
llii.s Billy thought we could track up, so with two ropes
he and Rob were hauling us, I in bow, Preble in stern;
but the strong waters of the middle part whirled the
canoe around suddenly, and dashed her on a rock.
There was a crash of breaking timber, a roar of the
flood, and in a moment Preble and I and all the stuff
were in the water.

"'My journals/ I shouted as I went down, and all
the time the flood was boiling in my ears my thought
was, 'My journals/ — 'my journals/

''The moment my mouth was up again above the
water, I bubbled out, 'My journals, — save my jour-
nals/ then struck out for the shore. Now I saw Preble
hanging on to the canoe and trying to right it. His
face was calm and unchanged as when setting a mouse-
trap. 'Never mind that, save yourself/ I called out;
he made no response, and, after all, it was safest to
hang on to the canoe. I was swept into a shallow
place at once, and got on my feet, then gained the
shore.

289

290 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

" 'My journals — save them first!' I shouted to the
two boys, and now remembered with horror, how, this
very morning, on account of portaging, I had for the
first time put all three journals in the hand-bag that
had disappeared, whereas the telescope that used to
hold two of them, was floating high. It is the emer-
gency that proves your man, and I learned that day
I had three of the best men that ever boarded a boat.
A glance showed Preble in shallow water coolly haul-
ing in the canoe.

"Rob and Billy bounded along the rugged shores,
from one ice-covered rock to another, over piles of
drift logs and along steep ledges they went; like two
mountain goats; the flood was spotted with floating
things, but no sign of the precious journal-bag. Away
out was the grub-box, square and high afloat, it struck
a reef. 'You save the grub/ yelled Billy above the
roaring, pitiless flood, and dashed on. I knew Billy's
head was cool and clear, so I plunged into the water,
ice-cold and waist deep — and before the merciless one
could snatch it along, I had the grub-box safe. Mean-
while Rob and Billy had danced away out of sight
along that wild canyon bank. I set out after them. In
some eddies various articles were afloat, a cocoa tin,
a milk pot, a bag of rare orchids intended for a friend,
a half sack of flour, and many little things I saved at
cost of a fresh wetting each time, and on the bank,
thrown hastily up by the boys, were such bundles as
they had been able to rescue.

"I struggled on, but the pace was killing. They
were young men and dog-runners; I was left behind

THE RIVER SHOWS ITS TEETH 291

and was getting so tired now I could not keep warm;
there was a keen frost and I was wet to the skin.
The chance to rescue other things came again and
again. Twelve times did I plunge into that deadly
cold river, and so gathered a lot of small truck. Then
knowing I could do little more, and realising that
everything man could do would be done without me,
turned back reluctantly. Preble passed me at a run;
he had left the canoe in a good place and had saved
some bedding.

"'Have you seen my journal-bag?' He made a
quick gesture down the river, then dashed away.
Alas! I knew now, the one irreplaceable part of our
cargo was deep in the treacherous flood, never to be
seen again.

"At the canoe I set about making a fire; there was
no axe to cut kindling-wood, but a birch tree was near,
and a pile of shredded birch-bark with a lot of dry wil-
low on it made a perfect fire-lay; then I opened my
waterproof matchbox. Oh, horrors! the fifteen matches
in it were damp and soggy. I tried to dry them by
blowing on them; my frozen fingers could scarcely
hold them. After a time I struck one. It was soft and
useless; another and another at intervals, till thirteen;
then, despairing, I laid the last two on a stone in the
weak sunlight, and tried to warm myself by gathering
firewood and moving quickly, but it seemed useless —
a very death chill was on me. I have often lighted
a fire with rubbing-sticks, but I needed an axe, as well
as a buckskin thong for this, and I had neither. I
looked through the baggage that was saved, no matches

292 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and all things dripping wet. I might go three miles
down that frightful canyon to our last camp and mayl >e
get some living coals. But no! mindful of the forestry
laws, we had as usual most carefully extinguished the
fire with buckets of water, and the clothes were freezing
on my back. I was tired out, teeth chattering. Then
came the thought, Why despair while two matches
remain? I struck the first now, the fourteenth, and, in
spite of dead fingers and the sizzly, doubtful match,
it cracked, blazed, and then, oh blessed, blessed birch
bark! — with any other tinder my numbed hands had
surely failed — it blazed like a torch, and warmth at last
was mine, and outward comfort for a house of gloom.
"The boys, I knew, would work like heroes and do
their part as well as man could do it, my work was
right here. I gathered all the things along the beach,
made great racks for drying and a mighty blaze. I
had no pots or pans, but an aluminum bottle which
would serve as kettle; and thus I prepared a meal of
such things as were saved — a scrap of pork, some tea
and a soggy mass that once was pilot bread. Then sat
down by the fire to spend five hours of growing horror,
175 miles from a settlement, canoe smashed, guns gone,
pots and pans gone, specimens all gone, half our
bedding gone, our food gone; but all these things were
nothing, compared with the loss of my three precious
journals; 600 pages of observation and discovery,
geographical, botanical, and zoological, 500 drawings,
valuable records made under all sorts of trying circum-
stances, discovery and compass survey of the beauti-
ful Nyarling River, compass survey of the two great

THE RIVER SHOW'S ITS TEETH 293

northern lakes, discovery of two greal northern rivers,
many lakes, a thousand things of interest to others
and priceless to me — my summer's work— gone; yes,
I could bear that, hut the three chapters of life and
thought irrevocably gone; the magnitude of this ca-
lamity was crushing. Oh, God, this is the most awful
blow that could have fallen at the end of the six
months' trip.

''The hours went by, and the gloom grew deeper,
for there was no sign of the boys. Never till now did
the thought of danger enter my mind. Had they been
too foolhardy in their struggle with the terrible stream?
Had they, too, been made to feel its power? My
guess was near the truth; and yd there was that awful
river unchanged, glittering, surging, beautiful, exactly
as on so many days before, when life on it had seemed
so bright.

"At three in the afternoon, I saw a fly crawl down
the rocks a mile away. I fed the fire and heated up
the food and tea. In twenty minutes I could see that
it was Rob, but both his hands were empty. 'If they
had found it,' I said to myself, 'they would send it
back first thing, and if he had it, lie would swing it
aloft/ Yet no, nothing but a shiny tin was in his hands
and the blow had fallen. The suspense was over,
anyway. I bowed my head, 'We have done what we
could.'

"Rob came slowly up, worn out. In his hand a tin
of baking-powder. Across his breast was a canvas
band. lie tottered toward me, too tired t<> speak in
answer to my unspoken question, but he turned and

294 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

there on his back was the canvas bag that held the
labour of all these long toilsome months.

"'I got 'em all right/ he managed to say, smiling
in a weak way.

'"And the boys?'

"'All right now.'

"'Thank God!' I broke down, and wrung his hand;
'I won't forget,' was all I could say. Hot tea revived
him, loosened his tongue, and I heard the story.

'"I knew,' he said, 'what was first to save when I
seen you got ashore. Me and Billy we run like crazy,
we see dat bag 'way out in the deep strong water.
De odder tings came in de eddies, but dat bag it keep
'way out, but we run along de rocks; after a mile it
came pretty near a point, and Billy, he climb on a rock
and reach out, but he fall in deep water and was carried
far, so he had to swim for his life. I jump on rocks
anoder mile to anoder point; I got ahead of de bag,
den I get two logs, and hold dem between my legs for
raft, and push out; but dat dam river he take dem
logs very slow, and dat bag very fast, so it pass by.
But Billy he swim ashore, and run some more, and he
make a raft ; but de raft he stick on rock, and de bag
he never stick, but go like hell.

'"Den I say, "Here, Billy, you give me yo' sash,"
and I run tree mile more, so far I loss sight of dat bag
and make good raft. By'mebye Billy he come shout-
ing and point, I push out in river, and paddle, and
watch, and sure dere come dat bag. My, how he
travel! far out now; but I paddle and push hard and
bump he came at raft and I grab him. Oh! maybe I

THE RIVER SHOWS ITS TEETH 295

warn't glad! ice on river, frost in air, 14 mile run on
snowy rocks, but I no care, I bet I make dat boss glad
when he see me."

"Glad ! I never felt more thankful in my life! My
heart swelled with gratitude to the brave boys that
had leaped, scrambled, slidden, tumbled, fallen, swum
or climbed over those 14 perilous, horrible miles of
icy rocks and storm-piled timbers, to save the books
that, to them, seemed of so little value, but which
they yet knew were, to me, the most precious of all
my things. Guns, cameras, food, tents, bedding,
dishes, were trifling losses, and the horror of that day
was turned to joy by the crowning mercy of its close.

"'I won't forget you when we reach the Landing,
Rob ! ' were the meagre words that rose to my lips, but
the tone of voice supplied what the words might lack.
And I did not forget him or the others; and Robillard
said afterward, 'By Gar, dat de best day's work I ever
done, by Gar, de time I run down dat hell river after
dem dam books!'"

CHAPTER XLVI

BRIGHT AGAIN

In an hour the other men came back. The rest of the
day we put in drying the things, especially our bedding.
We used the aluminum bottle, and an old meat tin
for kettle; some bacon, happily saved, was fried on
sticks, and when we turned in that night it was with
light and thankful hearts, in spite of our manifold
minor losses.

Morning dawned bright and beautiful and keen.
How glorious that surging river looked in its noble
canyon; but we were learning thoroughly that noble
scenery means dangerous travel — and there was much
noble scenery ahead; and I, at least, felt much older
than before this upset.

The boys put in a couple of hours repairing the canoe,
then they studied the river in hopes of recovering the
guns. How well the river-men seemed to know it!
Its every ripple and curl told them a story of the bot-
tom and the flood,

"There must be a ledge there," said Billy, "just
where we upset. If the guns went down at once they
are there. If they were carried at all, the bottom is
smooth to the second ledge and they are there." He
pointed a hundred yards away.

So they armed themselves with grappling-poles
that had nails for claws. Then we lowered Rob in

296

BRIGHT AGAIN 297

the canoe into the rapid and held on while he fished
above the ledge.

"I tink I feel 'em/' said Rob, again and again, but
could not bring them up. Then Billy tried.

"Yes, they are there." But the current was too
fierce and the hook too poor; he could not hold
them.

Then I said: "There is only one thing to do. A
man must go in at the end of the rope; maybe he can
reach down. I'll never send any man into such a
place, but I'll go myself."

So I stripped, padded the track-line with a towel and
put it around my waist, then plunged in. Ouch! it
was cold, and going seven miles an hour. The boys
lowered me to the spot where I was supposed to dive or
reach down. It was only five feet deep, but, struggle
as I might, I could not get even my arm down. I
ducked and dived, but I was held in the surface like
a pennant on an air-blast. In a few minutes the icy
flood had robbed me of all sensation in my limbs, and
showed how impossible was the plan, so I gave the
signal to haul me in; which they did, nearly cutting
my body in two with the rope. And if ever there was
a grovelling fire-worshipper, it was my frozen self
when I landed.

Now we tried a new scheme. A tall spruce on the
shore was leaning over the place; fifty feet out, barely
showing, was the rock that wrecked us. We cut the
spruce so it fell with its butt on the shore, and lodged
against the rock. On this, now, Rob and Billy walked
out and took turns grappling. Luck was with Rob.

298 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

In a few minutes he triumphantly hauled up the rifle
and a little later the shotgun, none the worse.

Now, we had saved everything except the surplus
provisions and my little camera, trifling matters, in-
deed; so it was with feelings of triumph that we went
on south that day.

In the afternoon, as we were tracking up the last part
of the Boiler Rapid, Billy at the bow, Rob on the shore,
the line broke, and we were only saved from another

dreadful disaster by Billy's nerve and quickness; for
he fearlessly leaped overboard, had the luck to find
bottom, and held the canoe's head with all his strength.
The rope was mended and a safe way was found.
That time I realized the force of an Indian reply to a
trader who sought to sell him a cheap rope. "In the
midst of a rapid one does not count the cost of the
line."

At night we camped in a glorious red sunset, just
above the Boiler Rapid. On the shore was a pile of
flour in sacks, inscribed in Cree, "Gordon his flour."

Here it was, the most prized foreign product in the
country, lying unprotected by the highway, and no
man seemed to think the owner foolish. Whatever
else these Indians are, they are absolutely honest.

BRIGHT AGAIN 299

The heavenly weather of the Indian Summer was
now upon us. We had left all storms and frost behind,
and the next day, our final trouble, the lack of food,
was ended. A great steamer hove in sight — at least
it looked like a steamer — but, steadily coming on, it
proved a scow with an awning and a stove on it. The
boys soon recognised the man at the bow as William
Gordon, trader at Fort McMurray. We hailed him
to stop when he was a quarter of a mile ahead, and he
responded with his six sturdy oarsmen; but such was
the force of the stream that he did not reach the shore
till a quarter-mile below us.

"Hello, boys, what's up?" He shouted in the
brotherly way that all white men seem to get when
meeting another of their race in a savage land.

"Had an upset and lost all our food."

"Ho! that's easy fixed." Then did that generous
man break open boxes, bales, and packages and freely
gave without a stint, all the things we needed : kettles,
pans, sugar, oatmeal, beans, jam, etc.

"How are you fixed for whiskey?" he asked, opening
his own private, not-for-sale supply.

"We have none and we never use it," was the reply.
Then I fear I fell very low in the eyes of my crew.

"Never use it! Don't want it! You must be pretty
damn lonesome in a country like this," and he seemed
quite unable to grasp the idea of travellers who would
not drink.

Thus the last of our troubles was ended. Thence-
forth the journey was one of warm, sunny weather and
pleasant travel. Each night the sun went down in

300 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

red and purple fire; and each morning rose in gold
on a steel-blue sky. There was only one bad side to
this, that was the constant danger of forest fire. On
leaving each camp — we made four every day — I put
the fire out with plenty of water, many buckets. Rob
thought it unnecessary to take so much trouble. But
great clouds of smoke were seen at several reaches
of the river, to tell how dire it was that other campers
had not done the same.

CHAPTER XLVII
WHEN NATURE SMILED

It scorns a law that every deep valley must he next
a high mountain. Our sorrows ended when we quit
the canyon, and then, as though in compensation, na-
ture crammed the days with the small joys that seem
so little and mean so much to the naturalist.

Those last few days, unniarrcd of the smallest hard-
ship, were one long pearl-string of the things I came for
— the chances to see and be among wild life.

Each night the Coyote and the Fox came rustling
about our camp, or the Weasel and Woodmouse scram-
bled over our sleeping forms. Each morning at gray
dawn, gray Wiskajon and his mate — always a pair —
came wailing through the woods, to flirt about the
camp and steal scraps of meat that needed not to be
stolen, being theirs by right. Their small cousins, the
Chicadees, came, too, at breakfast time, and in our
daily travelling, Ruffed Grouse, Ravens, Pine Gros-
beaks, Bohemian Chatterers, Hairy Woodpeckers.
Shrikes, Tree-sparrows, Linnets, and Snowbirds en-
livened the radiant sunlit scene.

One afternoon I heard a peculiar note, at first like
the " cheepy-teet-teet" of the Pine Grosbeak, only louder
and more broken, changing to the jingling of Black-
birds in spring, mixed with some Bluejay "jay-jays"

301

302 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

and a Robin-like whistle; then I saw that it came
from a Northern Shrike on the bushes just ahead of us.
It flew off much after the manner of the Summer
Shrike, with flight not truly undulatory nor yet
straight, but flapping half a dozen times — then a pause
and repeat. He would dive along down near the
ground, then up with a fine display of wings and tail
to the next perch selected, there to repeat with fresh
variations and shrieks, the same strange song, and
often indeed sang it on the wing, until at last he crossed
the river.

Sometimes we rode in the canoe, sometimes tramped
along the easy shore. Once I came across a Great
Horned Owl in the grass by the water. He had a fish
over a foot long, and flew with difficulty when he bore
it off. Another time I saw a Horned Owl mobbed
by two Wiskajons. Spruce Partridge as well as the
Ruffed species became common: one morning some
of the former marched into camp at breakfast time.
Rob called them " Chickens"; farther south they are
called "Fool Hens," which is descriptive and helps
to distinguish them from their neighbours — the "Sage
Hens." Frequently now we heard the toy-trumpeting
and the clack of the Pileated Woodpecker or Cock-of
the-Pines, a Canadian rather than a Hudsonian species.
One day, at our three o'clock meal, a great splendid
fellow of the kind gave us a thrill. "Clack-clack-
clack" we heard him coming, and he bounded through
the air into the trees over our camp. Still uttering
his loud "Clack-clack-clack," he swung from tree to
tree in one long festoon of flight, spread out on the up-

WHEN X AIT UK SMILED 303

swoop like an enormous black butterfly with white-
starred wings. "Clack-clack-clack," he stirred the
echoes from the other shore, and ignored us as he
swooped and clanged. There was much in his song
of the Woodpecker tang; it was very nearly the spring-
time "cluck-cluck" of a magnified Flicker in black;
and I gazed with open mouth until
he thought fit to bound through
the air to another woods. This
was my first close meeting with
the King of the Woodpeckers; I
long to know him better.

Mammals, too, abounded, but
we saw their signs rather than Jf/flf *-"'<trt^u?
themselves, for most are noctur-
nal. The Redsquirrels, so scarce Scatoiogy of Wolf
last spring, were quite plentiful,
and the beach at all soft places showed abundant trace
of Weasels, Chipmunks, Foxes, Coyotes, Lynx, Wolves,
Moose, Caribou, Deer. One Wolf track was of special
interest. It was 5J inches long and travelling with it
was the track of a small Wolf; it vividly brought back
the days of Lobo and Blanca, and I doubt not was an-
other case of mates; we were evidently in the range
of a giant Wolf who was travelling around with his
wife. Another large Wolf track was lacking the two
inner toes of the inner hind foot, and the hind foot
pads were so faint as to be lost at times, although the
toes were deeply impressed in the mud. This probably
meant that he had been in a trap and was starved
to a skeleton.

304 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

We did not see any of these, but we did see the post-
graduate evidences of their diet, and were somewhat
surprised to learn that it included much fruit, especi-
ally of the uva-ursi. We also saw proof that they
had eaten part of a Moose; probably they had killed it.

Coyote abounded now, and these we saw from time
to time. Once I tramped up within thirty feet of a

Bear-berry, or Uva-ursi

big fellow who was pursuing some zoological studies
behind a log. But again the incontrovertible — post-
mortem— evidence of their food habits was a surprise —
the bulk of their sustenance now was berries, in one case
this was mixed with the tail hairs — but no body hairs
— of a Chipmunk. I suppose that Chipmunk escaped
minus his tail. There was much evidence that all
those creatures that can eat fruit were in good condi-
tion, but that flesh in its most accessible form — rab-
bits— was unknown, and even next best thing — the
mice — were too scarce to count; this weighed with
especial force on the Lynxes; they alone seemed unable
to eke out with fruit. The few we saw were starving
and at our camp of the 28th we found the wretched
body of one that was dead of hunger.

WHEN NATURE SMILED 305

On that same night we liad a curious adventure with
a Weasel.

All were sitting around the camp-fire at bed-time,
when I heard a distinct patter on the leaves. "Some-
thing coming," I whispered. All held still, then out
of the gloom came bounding a snow-white Weasel.
Preble was lying on his back with his hands clasped
behind his head and the Weasel fearlessly jumped on
my colleague's broad chest, and stood peering about.

In a flash Preble's right elbow was down and held
the Weasel prisoner, his left hand coming to assist.
Now, it is pretty well known that if you and a Weasel
grab each other at the same time he has choice of holds.

"I have got him," said Preble, then added feelingly,
"but he got me first. Suffering Moses! the little cuss
is grinding his teeth in deeper."

The muffled screaming of the small demon died away
as Preble's strong left hand crushed out his life, but as
long as there was a spark of it remaining, those desper-
ate jaws were grinding deeper into his thumb. It
seemed a remarkably long affair to us, and from time
to time, as Preble let off some fierce ejaculation, one of
us would ask, "Hello! Are you two still at it," or,
"How arc you and your friend these times, Preble?"

In a few minutes it was over, but that creature in
his fury seemed to have inspired himself with lock-jaw,
for his teeth were so driven in and double-locked, that
I had to pry the jaws apart before the hand was free.

The Weasel may now be seen in the American Mu-
seum, and Preble in the Agricultural Department at
Washington, the latter none the worse.

306 ARCTIC PRAIRIES

So wore away the month, the last night came, a
night of fireside joy at home (for was it not Hallow-
e'en ?), and our celebration took the form of washing,
shaving, mending clothes, in preparation for our land-
ing in the morning.

CHAPTER XLVIII
THE END

All that night of Hallowe'en, a Partridge drummed
near my untented couch on the balsam boughs. What
a glorious sound of woods and life triumphant it seemed;
and why did he drum at night? Simply because he
had more joy than the short fall day gave him time to
express. He seemed to be beating our march of victory,
for were we not in triumph coming home? The gray
firstlight came through the trees and showed us lying
each in his blanket, covered with leaves, like babes in
the woods. The gray Jays came wailing through the
gloom, a faroff Cock-of-thc-Pines was trumpeting in
the lovely, unplagued autumn woods; it seemed as
though all the very best things in the land were assem-
bled and the bad things all left out, so that our final
memories should have no evil shade.

The scene comes brightly back again, the sheltering
fir-clad shore, the staunch canoe skimming the river's
tranquil reach, the water smiling round her bow, as
we push from this, the last of full five hundred camps.

The dawn fog lifts, the river sparkles in the sun, we
round the last of a thousand headlands. The little
frontier town of the Landing swings into view once
more — what a metropolis it seems to us now! — The
Ann Seton lands at the spot where six months ago she

307

308 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES

had entered the water. Now in quick succession come
the thrills of the larger life — the letters from home, the
telegraph office, the hearty good-bye to the brave river-
boys, and my long canoe-ride is over.

I had held in my heart the wanderlust till it swept
me away, and sent me afar on the back trail of the
north wind; I have lived in the mighty boreal forest,
with its Red-men, its Buffalo, its Moose, and its
Wolves; I have seen the Great Lone Land with its
endless plains and prairies that do not know the face of
man or the crack of a rifle ; I have been with its count-
less lakes that re-echo nothing but the wail and yodel
of the Loons, or the mournful music of the Arctic
Wolf. I have wandered on the plains of the Musk-ox,
the home of the Snowbird and the Caribou. These
were the things I had burned to do. Was I content f
Content ! ! Is a man ever content with a single sip of
joy long-dreamed of?

Four years have gone since then. The wanderlust
was not stifled any more than a fire is stifled by giving
it air. I have taken into my heart a longing, given
shape to an ancient instinct. Have I not found for
myself a kingdom and become a part of it? My reason
and my heart say, "Go back to see it all." Grant only
this, that I gather again the same brave men that
manned my frail canoe, and as sure as life and strength
continue I shall go.

3 1205 01918 5618

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Full text of "The Arctic prairies : a canoe-journey of 2,000 miles in search of the caribou; being the account of a voyage to the region north of Aylmer Lake"

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