Shebandowan Road.—Rich
Vegetation.—Rivers Kaministiquie and Matawan.—Shebandowan Lako.—Luggage.—Emigrants.—Canoe
train.—Iroquois Indians.—Sir George Simpson's guide.—Lake Kashaboiwe.— The
Height of Land.—Lac des Mille Lacs.— I3aril portage and Lake.—First night
under canvas.—Lake Windigostigwan.—Indian encampment.—Chief Blackstone's
wives.—The Medicine-man.—Lake Kaogassikok.— Shooting Maligne rapids. —Lake
Noquaquon. —Loon portage. —Mud portage.— American portage.—Lake Namoukan.—Rainy
Lake.—Fort Francis.—Rainy River. — Hungry Hall.—Slap-jacks.—Lake of the
Woods.—The North West Angle.—A tough night.—Oak point.—First glimpse of
the prairies.—Floral treasures. — The Dawson route.—Red River.
July 22nd.—At 5 A. M.,
arrived at Prince Arthur's Landing, Thunder Bay, about four miles from the
Kaministiquia river, a fine open harbour, with dark cliffs of basaltic
rock and island scenery second only to Nepigon. Population is flowing
rapidly to these shores of Lake Superior. Already more than a hundred
stores, shanties, or houses are scattered about 'the Landing.' The chief
business is silver mining, and prospecting for silver, copper, galena, and
other valuable minerals known to exist in the neighbourhood.
The engineer of the
surveying parties between Ottawa and Red River, and the assistant
superintendent of the Dawson Route to Fort Garry met us at the Landing and
invited us to breakfast in their shanty. After breakfast, our baggage was
packed on a heavy waggon, and instructions were given to the driver to
keep moving till he reached Shebandowan Lake, the first of the chain to be
traversed in canoes.
Shebandowan is forty-five
miles from Lake Superior, about 800 feet higher, and near the summit or
watershed of the district. At 10.30 A. M., we started for that point, the
Chief and the Doctor in a buggy, the others in a light waggon. Drove in
three hours to "fifteen-mile shanty" through a rolling country with a
steady upward incline, lightly wooded for the first half and more heavily
for the latter half of the distance. The flora is much the same as in our
Eastern Provinces; the soil light, with a surface covering of peaty or
sandy loam, and a subsoil of clay, fairly fertile and capable of being
easily cleared. The vegetation is varied, wild fruits being especially
abundant,—raspberries, currants, gooseberries, and tomatoes; flowers like
the convolvulus, roses, a great profusion of asters, wild kallas,
water-lilies on the ponds, wild chives on the rocks in the streams, and
generally a rich vegetation. It is a good country for emigrants of the
farmer class. The road, too, is first rate, a great point for the settler; and a market is near. Whatever a settler raises he can easily transport
to the ready market that there always is near mines. Miners are not
particular about their lodging, but good food and plenty of it they must
have.
At the "fifteen-mile shanty," we stopped for
an hour and a half to feed the horses, and to dine. A Scotchman from Alloa,
Robert Bowie, was "boss of the shanty," and gave us the best dinner we had
eaten since leaving Toronto;—broth, beaf-steak, bread, and tea. The bread,
light and sweet as Paris rolls, was baked in Dutch ovens, buried in the
hot embers of a huge fire outside, near the door, and Robert accepted the
shower of compliments on its quality with the canny admission that there
were "waur bakers in the warld than himsel'."
We walked on for the next three or four miles
till the waggon overtook us. The soil became richer, the timber heavier,
and the whole vegetation more luxuriant. Six miles from the fifteen-mile
shanty we crossed the Kaministiquia—a broad and rapid river,—which, at
this point, is, by its own course, forty-five miles distant from where it
falls into Lake Superior. The valley of the river is acknowledged to be a
splendid farming country. A squatter, who had pitched camp at the bridge
end last year, on his way to Red River, and had remained instead of going
on because everything was so favourable, came up to have a talk with us,
and to grumble, like a true Briton, that the Government wasn't doing more
for him. Timothy was growing to the height of four and five feet, on every
vacant spot, from chance seeds. A bushel and a-half of barley, which
seemed to be all that he had sown, was looking as if it could take the
prize at an Ontario Exhibition.
The soil, for the next five miles, was covered
luxuriantly with the vetch, or wild pea. The road led to the Matawan,—a
stream that runs out of Lake Shebandowan into the Kami-nistiquia. Both
rivers are crossed by capital bridges. The station at the Matawan was in
charge of a Mr. Aitken and his family, from Glengarry. He had arrived
exactly two months ago, on the 22nd of May, and he had now oats and barley
up, potatoes in blossom, turnips, lettuce, parsnips, cucumbers, etc., all
looking healthy, and all growing on land that, sixty days before, had been
in part covered with undergrowth, stumps, and tall trees, through which
fires had run the year previous. Mr. Aitken was in love with the country,
and, what 'was of more consequence, so was Mrs. Aitken, though she
confessed to a longing for some "neighbours." They intended to make it
their future home, and said that they had never seen land so well suited
for farming. Everything was prospering with them. The very hens seemed to
do better here than elsewhere. One was pointed out with a brood of twenty
strong healthy chickens around her; Guinea hens and turkeys looked
thriving. Everything
about this part of country, so far, has astonished us. Our former ideas
concerning it had been that it was a barren desert; that there was only a
horse trail, and not always that, to travel by; that the mosquitoes were
as big as grasshoppers, and bit through everything. Whereas, it is a fair
and fertile land, undulating from the intervales of the rivers up to hills
and rocks eight hundred feet high. The road through it is good enough for
a king's highway, and the mosquitoes are not more vicious than in the
woods and by the streams of the Lower Provinces; yet this fine land is
wholly untaken up. Not half a dozen settlers are on the road for the first
twenty-six miles; and for the next twenty, not half that number. How many
cottars, small farmers, and, plough boys in Britain, would rejoice to know
that they could get a hundred acres of such land for one dollar an acre,
money down; or at twenty cents per acre after five years settlement on it!
They could settle along the high road, take their produce to a good
market, and be independent landholders in five years. This was the
information about the price of land that the settlers gave us. Why "free"
grants are not offered, as in other parts of Ontario or in Manitoba, it is
impossible to say.
From the Matawan to Shebandowan lake was the
next stage, twenty miles long. We passed over most of it in the dark, but
could see, from the poor timber and other indications, that the latter
half was not at all as good as the first. The road was heavy, varying
between corduroy, deep sand, and rutty and rooty stretches, over which the
waggon jolted frightfully. Though the colonel beguiled the way with many a
story of the wars, all were tired and ready for bed by the time the Lake
was reached. So
passed the first day of our expedition, for we counted that the journey
only began at Thunder Bay. We had been twelve hours on the road; but, as
the day had been cool and showery, did we not feel over-fatigued on
arriving at Shebandowan. An old-countryman, Morris, was in charge of the
shanty. He had given up his kitchen to half a dozen emigrants who were
going on in the morning to Red River, and had reserved beds for us in
little nooks upstairs.
July 23rd.—Rose at sunrise, and found, much to
our disgust, that the baggage waggon had not arrived. An hour after,
however, it came in, and, along with it, two young gentlemen, M.... and
L.... with a canoe and Indians on their way to Red River. They were
travelling for pleasure, and, as they had been on the road all night, and
were tired, seedy and, mosquito-bitten, they represented very fairly, in
their own persons, the Anglo-Saxon idea of pleasure.
At Shebandowan all our luggage was now
gathered on the wharf, to be stowed in the canoes which were to carry us
westerly for the next three hundred and eighty miles, along the chain of
lakes. The Chief looked hard at the united heap, and then proposed that
Morris should take charge or possession of all that could be dispensed
with; and that, before we left Fort Garry, only a certain number of
pounds-weight should be allowed to each. Much luggage is a nuisance, even
where there are railways, especially if extra weight has to be paid for;
but it is simply intolerable where frequent portages intervene, over which
everything has to be carried on men's backs. Morris made no objection to
the Chief's proposal, and it was carried nem. con.
At 8 A. M., the baggage having been stowed in
the canoes, the Indians paddled out, and hooked on to a little steam tug,
kept on the lake for towing purposes : a line was formed, the word given,
and, after a few preliminary puffings, the start was made and we proceeded
along the lake. The mode of locomotion was, to us, altogether new, and as
charming as it was picturesque. The tug led the way at the rate of seven
knots, towing, first a large barge with immigrants, second a five-fathom
canoe with three of our party and seven Indians, third a four-fathom canoe
with two of us and six Indians, fourth same as number three, fifth M....
and L... .'s canoe. We glided along with a delightful motion, sitting on
our baggage in the bottoms of the canoes. The morning was dull and grey,
and the shores of the lake looked sterile and fire-swept, with abundant
indications of mineral wealth. Gold and silver have been found at
Shebandowan, and prospecting parties are now searching all accessible
spots. Our Indians
were Iroquois, from Caughnawaga, near Montreal, and a few native
Ojibbeways. Their leader was Ignace Mentour, who had been Sir George
Simpson's guide for fifteen years; and the steersman of his canoe was
Louis, who had been cook to Sir George on his expeditions, and looked
every inch the butler of a respectable English family; we fell in love
with him and Ignace from the first; another of the Iroquois had been one
of the party which sought for Franklin by going down the McKenzie River to
the Arctic Sea. Two old pupils of Ignace, named respectively Baptiste and
Toma, were the captains of the two smaller canoes; they were all sinewy,
active, good looking men. Ignace's hair was grey, but he was still as
strong as any of the young men; he paddled in the bow of the big canoe,
leading the way, and quietly chewed tobacco the whole time. In his young
days he had been a famous runner, and had won foot races in every town on
both sides of the St. Lawrence. These Iroquois, and most of the Ojibbeways
we have met, are men above the medium size, broad shouldered, with
straight features, intelligent faces, and graceful, because natural,
bearing.
At the west end of the lake we came to a camp
of seventy or eighty Ojibbeways—two-thirds of them children;—they had been
there for three weeks, of course doing nothing for a living; more were
expected, and, when all would have assembled, a grand pow-wow would be
held, at which a Treaty was to be made between them and the Indian
Commissioner of the Dominion, by which they were to cede, for a
consideration, all their rights to the land, that would hinder settlers
from coming in. Poor creatures! not much use have they ever made on the
land; but yet, in admitting the settler, they sign their own death
warrants. Who, but they, have a right to the country; and if a man may do
what he likes with his own," would they not be justified in refusing to
admit one of us to their lakes and woods, and fighting us to the death on
that issue ? But it is too late to argue the question; the red man, with
his virtues and his vices,—lauded by some as so dignified, abused by
others as so dirty—is being civilised off the ground. In the United States
they have, as a rule, dealt with him more summarily than in British
America, but it comes to pretty much the same in the end, whether he is
"improved off," or shot down at once as a nuisance. His wild, wandering
life is inconsistent with modern requirements : these vast regions were
surely meant to maintain more than a few thousand Ojibbeways.
Three hours steaming brought our flotilla to
the west end of the lake. A portage of three quarters of a mile intervenes
between it and Lake Kashaboiwe. The Indians emptied the canoes in a trice;
two shouldered a canoe, weighing probably three hundred pounds, and made
off at a rapid trot across the portage. The others loaded the waggon of
the station with the luggage, and carried on their backs, by a strap
passed over their foreheads, what the waggon could not take. This
portage-strap is three or four inches broad in the middle, where it is
adjusted to the forehead : its great advantage to the voyageur is that it
leaves him the free use of his arms in going through the woods. A tug had
been placed on Kashaboiwe, but, as the machinery was out of gear, the
Indians paddled over the lake, doing the ten miles of its length in two
hours. The wood on this lake is heavier than on Shebandowan: poplars,
white birch, red, white and scrub pine, all shew well. The second portage
is between Kashaboiwe and Lac des Mille Lacs, and is. called "Height of
Land," as the water here begins to run north and west instead of east and
south. The lakes, after this, empty at their west ends At the east end of
Lac des Mille Lacs, a little stream three yards wide, that flows in a
tortuous channel with gentle current into the lake, eventually finds its
way to Hudson's Bay. The "Height of Land" is about a thousand feet above
Lake Superior.
We now entered a lovely lake, twenty-two miles
long; its name explains its characteristic. As the steam launch, stationed
on it, happened, unfortunately, to be at the west end, the Indians again
paddled the canoes for about four miles, when we met the launch coming
back; it at once turned about and took us in tow. After a smart shower the
sky cleared, and the sun shone on innumerable bays, creeks, channels,
headlands and islets, which are simply larger or smaller rocks of granite
covered with moss and wooded to the water's brink. Through these
labyrinths we threaded our way, often wondering that the wrong passage was
never taken, where there were so many exactly alike. Fortunately, the
fire-demon has not devasted these shores. The timber, in some places, is
heavy; pine, aspen, and birch being the prevailing varieties. Every islet
in the lake is wooded down to the water's edge. Our Botanist, though
finding few new species, exulted in his holiday and looked forward, with
eager hope, to the flora of the plains. "This expedition," he said, "is
going to give me a lift that will put me at the head of the whole
brigade;" but, as we drew near our third portage for the day, his face
clouded. "Look at the ground, burnt again." One asked if it was the great
waste of wood he referred to. "It's not that, but, they have burned the
very spot for botanizing over." What is a site for shanty and clearing,
compared to Botany ! At the end of Lac des Mille Lacs is Baril Portage,
less than a quarter of a mile long. M------and L------resolved to camp
here, as they had had no sleep the previous night and their Indians were
tired; but, though the sun was only an hour high, we resolved to complete
our programme, by doing the next lake, Baril. No steamer has been put on
this lake; but the Indians paddled over its eight miles of length in an
hour and forty minutes. The bluffs around Baril are bolder than those
rising from the previous lakes, and the vegetation very similar. We
hurried over the next portage, and, at the other end met the
station-keeper, who had a comfortable tent pitched for the emigrants,
strewn with fragrant pine and spruce branches.
It was impossible to avoid admiring the
activity and cheerfulness with which our Indians worked. Their canoes were
attended to, as well as the baggage, in half the time that ordinary
servants would have taken. They would carry as heavy a load as a
Constantinople porter, at a rapid trot across the portage, run back for
another load without a minute's halt, and so on till all the luggage was
portaged, and everything in readiness for starting on the next lake.
A fire was quickly kindled, and search made
for the eatables, blankets and everything needed for the night, when, the
discovery was made that, though the colonel had his blankets and the
botanist his pair, a big package with the main supply had been left
behind, very probably as far back as the "Height of Land." The frizzling
of the ham in the frying pan, and the delicious fragrance of the tea, made
us forget the loss for the time. We all sat around the fire, gipsy-like,
enjoying our first gipsy meal, and very soon after threw ourselves down on
the water-proof, that covered the sweet-smelling floor of the tent, and
slept the sleep of the just.
July 20th.—The Chief awoke us in the grey
misty dawn. It took more than a little shaking to awaken the boys; but the
botanist had gone off, no one knew when, in search of new species. As we
emerged from our tent, Louis and Baptiste appeared from theirs, and
kindled the fire. They next unrolled a lump of scented soap, brush and
comb; went down to the stream, washed and made their toilettes, and then
set to work to prepare for breakfast, ham, beefsteak, bread and tea. It
never seemed to occur to our Ojibbeways to wash, crop, or dress their
hair. They let it grow, at its own sweet will, all around their faces and
down their necks, lank, straight and stiff, helping the growth with fish
oil; whereas, every one of the Iroquois had "a good head of hair," thick,
well cropped, and, though always black, quite like the hair of a civilized
man instead of a savage. Our Ojibbeways had silver rings on their fingers,
broad gaudy sashes and bedraggled feathers bound round their felt hats.
The Iroquois dressed as simply and neatly as " blue jackets."
It had been chilly through the night, and the
cold mist clung heavily to the ground in the morning. The air is colder
than the water from evening till morning. Hence the evening and morning
mists, which disappear an hour or two after sunrise, rise and form into
clouds, which, sooner or later, empty themselves back again on the land or
lakes. After
breakfast we embarked on the mist-covered river that runs into Lake
Windegoostigwan. The sun soon cleared away the mists and we glided on
pleasantly, down long reaches of lake, and through narrow, winding, reedy
passages, past curved shores, hidden by rank vegetation, and naked bluffs
and islets covered with clumps of pines. Not a word fell from the Indians'
lips, as they paddled with all the ease and regularity of machinery. The
air was delightful, and all felt as if out on a holiday. In three hours
the fifteen miles of Windegoostigwan were crossed, and we came to a
portage nearly two miles long. This detained us three hours, as the waggon
had to make two trips from lake to lake, over a new road, with our
luggage. A man from
Glengarry, Ontario, was in charge of the portage; he had lived here all
winter, and said that he far preferred the winter weather to that of the
Eastern Provinces. Great as is the summer rain-fall, it is quite difterent
in winter; then the days are clear and cloudless, and so sunny and
pleasant that he was accustomed to go about in his summer clothing, except
in the mornings and evenings. Three feet of snow fell in the woods after
Christmas, and continued dry and powdery till April, when it commenced to
melt, and soon after the middle of May it was all gone, and vegetation
began to show itself at once.
At the west end of the portage is a small encampment of Ojibbeways, around
the wigwam of Blackstone, said to be their most eloquent chief, and
accordingly set down as " a great rascal " by those who cannot conceive of
Indians as having rights, or tribal or patriotic feelings. He was absent,
but we saw one of his three wives sitting on a log, with two or three
papooses hanging round her neck, and his oldest son, a stout young fellow,
who could not speak a word of English or French, but who managed to let us
know that he was sick. The Doctor was called, and he made out that the lad
had a pain in his back, but, not being able to diagnose more particularly,
was at a loss what to do for him. Our Chief suggested a bit of tobacco,
but the Doctor took no notice of the profane proposal; luckily enough, or
the whole tribe would have been sick when the next " Medicine-man" passed
their way. Blackstone's wife was not more comely than any of the other
Indian women; that is, she was dirty, joyless-looking and prematurely old.
All the hard work fills to the lot of the women: the husband hunts,
fishes, paddles, or does any other work that a "gentleman" feels he cm do
without degradation; his wife is something better than his dog, and
faithfully will he share with her his last morsel; but it's only a dog's
life that she has.
Our next lake was Kaogassikok, sixteen miles long. The shores of this,
too, were lined with good-sized pine, white, red, and scrub. To-day more
larch and cedar shewed among the birch and pine than yesterday. When the
country is opened up, all this timber will be very valuable, as sleepers
and ties for the Pacific Railway, and lumber, for building purposes, can
be obtained here in abundance, if nowhere nearer the plains. The trees can
be cut down at the water's edge, rafted, and sent by water to Winnipeg.
Numbers of fine trees are now growing in the water; for, by damming up the
outflow of the lakes to make the landing places, the water level has been
raised and the shore trees have thus been submerged several feet. They
will rot in consequence, and fall into the lakes sooner or later and
perhaps obstruct the narrow channels. The timber gets heavier as we go on; at the west of Kaogassikok are scrub pines, three feet in diameter; bat,
unfortunately, about one-third of them are punky or hollow. Here are two
portages, Pine and Deux Rivières, separated by only two miles of water;
consequently much detention owing to our magnificent quantities of
baggage. Two Indians, suffering from dysentery, applied for relief at Pine
Portage, and received it at the hands of the Doctor: he has already had
about a dozen "cases," either of white or red men, since we left Owen
Sound. The first two were at Nepigon, one the engineer, and the other a
dying man, carried on board the steamer there, to be taken home, and who
was also kindly ministered to by the captain and one or two of the lady
passengers. Oar party have, thus far, received little at the Doctor's
hands, sundry "medical comforts" always excepted.
After paddling over four miles of the next
lake the Indians advised camping, though the sun was more than an hour
high. As we had experienced the discomforts of camping in the dark the
night before, and as the men were evidently tired, we landed and pitched
the tents on a rocky promontory at the foot of a wooded hill. Scarcely
were our fires lighted, when M____'s canoe came up, and then another with
a stray Indian, his wife, papooses, dog—that looked half wolf—and all
their traps. After a
good swim, we sat down to our evening meal, which Louis has spread on a
clean table-cloth on the sward. In front of us was the smooth lake; on the
other side of it, two miles off, the sun was going down in the woods. The
country ahead broke into knolls, looking in many parts like cultivated
parks; around us the white tents and the ruddy fires, with Indians
flitting between, or busy about the canoes, gave animation to the scene
and made up a picture that will long live in the memory of many of us.
The Indians never halt without, at once,
turning their canoes upside down, and examining them. The seams and
crevices in the birch bark yield at any extra strain, and scratches are
made by submerged brushwood in some of the channels or the shallow parts
of the lakes. These crevices they carefully daub over with resin, which is
obtained from the red pine, till the bottom of an old canoe becomes almost
covered with a black resinous coat.
The stray Indian pitched camp an hundred yards
off from us; and, with true Indian dignity, did not come near to ask for
anything, though quite equal to take anything that was offered or left
behind. July 25th.—Up
before four A. M., and, after a cup of hot tea, started in excellent
spirits. Our three canoes had tried a race the night before, over the last
four miles of the day's journey, and they renewed it this morning. The
best crew was in the five-fathom boat, of which Ignace was captain and
Louis steersman. The captains of the other two, Baptiste and Toma, pushed
their old master hard to-day; as one or the other stole ahead, not a
glance did Ignace give to either. Doggedly, and with averted head, he dug
his paddle deeper in the water and pegged away with his sure steady
stroke, and though the others, by spurting, forced themselves
half-a-canoe-length ahead at times, they had not the stay of the older
men, and every race ended with Ignace leading. Then he would look up and
with sunshine on his broad, handsome face throw a good humoured joke back,
which the others would catch up with great glee.
These races often broke the monotony of the day. "Up, up," or "hi, hi,"
would break suddenly from one of the canoes that had fallen behind.
Everyone answered with quickened stroke that sent it abreast of the
others. Then came the tug of war. The graceful, gondola-shaped canoes cut
through the water as though impelled by steam. The Buffalo, or Ignace's
canoe,—so called from the figure of an Indian with a gun, standing before
a buffalo, that he had painted on the bow—always led at the first; but
often the Sun, Baptiste's lighter craft, would shoot ahead, and sometimes
Toma's, the Beaver, under the frantic efforts of her crew, seconded by one
or two of us snatching up a paddle, would lead for a few minutes. The
chivalry of our Indians, in the heat of the contests, contrasted
favourably with that of "professionals," no "foul" ever took place, though
the course often lay through narrow, winding, reedy, channels. Once, when
Baptiste at such a place might have forced ahead by a spurt, he slacked
speed gracefully, let Ignace take the curve and win. Another time> when
neck and neck, he saw a heavy line dragging at the stern and called Louis'
attention to it. No one ever charged the other with being unfair and no
angry word was ever heard; in fact, the Indians grow on us day by day. It
is easy to understand how an Englishman, travelling for weeks together
with an Indian guide, so often contracts a strong friendship for him; for
the Indian qualities of patience, endurance, dignity and self-control, are
the very ones to evoke friendship.
The sun rose bright but was soon clouded. Ten
good miles were made and then the halt called for breakfast, at a
beautiful headland, just as it commenced to rain. Now we got some idea of
what a rainy day in these regions means. After breakfast we put on our
water-proofs, covered up our baggage and moved ahead, under a deluge of
rain that knew no intermission for four hours. Most of the water-proofs
proved to be delusions; they had not been made for these latitudes. The
canoes would have filled, had we not kept bailing, but, without a word of
complaint, the Indians stick to their paddles.
From the lake we passed into the Maligne
River, and there the current aided us. In this short, but broad and rapid
stream, are six or seven rapids, which must be "shot" or portaged round;
we preferred the "shooting" wherever it was practicable for such large and
deeply-laden canoes as ours.
To shoot rapids in a canoe is a pleasure that
comparatively-few Englishmen have ever enjoyed, and no picture can give an
idea of what it is. There is a fascination in the motion, as of poetry or
music, which must be experienced to be understood: the excitement is
greater than when on board a steamer, because you are so much nearer the
seething water, and the canoe seems such a fragile thing to contend with
the mad forces, into the very thick of which it has to be steered. Where
the stream begins to descend, the water is an inclined plane, smooth as a
billiard table; beyond, it breaks into curling, gleaming rolls which end
off in white, boiling caldrons, where the water has broken on the rocks
beneath. On the brink of the inclined plane, the canoe seems to pause for
an instant. The captain is at the bow,—a broader, stronger paddle than
usual in his hand— his eye kindling with enthusiasm, and every nerve and
fibre in his body at its utmost tension. The steersman is at his post, and
every man is ready. They know that a false stroke, or too. weak a turn of
the captain's wrist, at the critical moment, means death. A push with the
paddles, and, straight and swift as an arrow, the canoe shoots right down
into the mad vortex; now into a cross current that would twist her
broadside round, but that every man fights against it; then she steers
right for a rock, to which she is being resistlessly sucked, and on which
it seems as if she would be dashed to pieces; but a rapid turn of the
captain's paddle at the right moment, and she rushes past the black mass,
riding gallantly as a race horse. The waves boil up at the side
threatening to engulf her, but, except a dash of spray or the cap of a
wave, nothing gets in, and, as she speeds into the calm reach beyond, all
draw long breaths and hope that another rapid is near.
At eleven o'clock we reached Island Portage,
having paddled thirty-two miles,—the best forenoon's work since taking to
the canoes—in spite of the weather. Here a steam launch is stationed;
and, though the engineer thought it a frightful day to travel in, he got
ready at our request, but said that he could not go four miles an hour as
the rain would keep the boiler wet the whole time. We dined with M------'s
party, under the shelter of their upturned canoe, on tea and the fattest
of fat pork, which all ate with delight unspeakable, for there was the
right kind of sauce. The day, and our soaked condition, suggested a little
brandy as a specific; but their bottle was exhausted, and, an hour before,
they had passed round the cork for each to have a "smell" at, in lieu of a
"drain." Such a case of "potatoes and point" moved our pity, and the chief
did what he could for them. The Indians excited our admiration;—soaked
through, and over-worked as they had been, the only word that we heard,
indicating that they were conscious of anything unusual, was an
exclamation from Baptiste, as he gave himself a shake,—"Boys, wish I was
in a tavern now, I'd get drunk in less than tree hours, I guess."
At two o'clock, the steam launch was ready,
and, about the same time, the sky cleared a little; a favorable wind, too,
sprang up, and, though there were (lowers or heavy mists all the time, the
launch towed us the twenty-four miles of Lake Nequaquon in three and a
quarter hours. The scenery was often very fine, but being of the same kind
as that for more than a hundred miles back, it began to be monotonous, and
we craved for a few mountains.
Next came Loon portage; then paddling for
five miles; then Mud portage, worthy of its name; another short paddle;
and then American portage, at which we camped for the night— the sun
having at last come out and this being the best place for pitching tents
and the freest from mosquitoes. Tired enougli all hands were, and ready
for sleep, for these portages are killing work. After taking a swim, we
rigged lines before huge fires, and hung up our wet things to dry, so that
it was eleven o'clock before anyone could lie down. " Our wet things,"
with some, mean all. The doctor and the secretary had stowed theirs in
water-proof bags, kindly lent them by the Colonel; but, alas, the bags
proved as fallacious as our " water-proofs !" Part of the Botanist's
valise was reduced to pulp, but he was too eager in search of specimens to
think of such a trifle, and, while all the rest of us were busy washing
and hanging out to dry, he hunted through woods and marshes, and, though
he got little for his pains, was happy as a king.
Our camping ground had been selected by the Indians with their usual good
taste. A rocky eminence, round two sides of which a river poured in a
roaring linn; on the hill sombre pines, underneath which the tents were
pitched; and lower down a forest of white birch. More than one of the
party dreamed that he was in Scotland, as he was lulled to sleep by the
thunder of the waterfall.
July 26th.—Up again about three, A. M., and
off within an hour, down a sedgy river, with low swampy shores, into Lake
Nameukan. The sun rose bright, and continued to shine all day; but a
pleasant breeze tempered its rays. At mid-day, the thermometer stood at
80° in the shade, the hottest since leaving Owen Sound. One day on Lake
Superior it was down to 48°, and the average at mid-day since we landed at
Thunder Bay was from 55° to 60°.
After twelve miles paddling, halted at a
pretty spot on an islet for breakfast. Frank caught a large pickerel and
M------shot a few pigeons, giving us a variety of courses at dinner.
M------'s Indians tried a race with us to-day, and after a hard struggle,
got ahead of Toma and Baptiste, but Ignace proudly held his own and
wouldn't be beaten. However, among the many turns of the river, Toma,
followed by Baptiste, circumvented their old master, by dashing through a
passage overgrown with weeds and reeds instead of taking the usual
channel. When Ignace turned the corner he saw the two young fellows coolly
waiting for him a hundred and fifty yards ahead. They gave a sly laugh as
he came up, but Ignace was too dignified to take the slightest notice;
Baptiste was so pleased that he sang us two Iroquois canoe songs.
Eighteen miles, broken by two short portages,
(for we took a short cut instead of the public route), brought us about
mid-day to Rainy Lake; here we were told, but, as it turned out,
incorrectly, was the last steam launch that could be used on our journey,
as the two on Rainy River and Lake of the Woods had something wrong with
them. The engineer
promised to be ready in two hours, and to land us at Fort Francis, at the
west end of Rainy Lake, forty-five miles on, by sundown. But in half an
hour the prospect did not look so bright, as, across the portage, by the
public route, came a band of eighteen emigrants, men, women and children,
who had left Thunder Bay five days before us, and whom we had passed this
forenoon, when we took our short cut. They had a great deal of baggage,
and were terribly tired. One old woman, eighty-five years of age,
complained of being sick, and the doctor attended to her. As we had soup
for dinner, he sent some over to her, and the prescription had a good
effect. While waiting here we took our half dried clothes out of the bags,
and, by hanging them on lines under the warm sun, got them pretty well
dried before starting.
At three, P. M., at the cry of "All aboard,"
our flotilla formed at once,—the steam launch towing two large barges with
the emigrants and their luggage, and the four canoes. The afternoon was
warm and sunny, and there was a pleasant breeze on the Lake. In half an
hour every Indian was asleep in the bottom of his canoe.
The shores of Rainy Lake are low, especially
on the northern side, and the timber is small; the shores rocky, with here
and there sandy beaches that have formed round little bays; scenery tame
and monotonous, though the islets, in some parts, are numerous and
beautiful.
By nine o'clock, we had made only thirty
miles. Our steamer was small, the flotilla stretched out far and the wind
was ahead. We therefore determined to camp; and, by the advice of the
engineer, steered for the north shore to what is called the Fifteen Mile
House from Fort Francis, said house being two deserted log huts. In a
little bay here, on the sandy beach, we pitched our tents and made rousing
fires, though the air was warm and balmy, as if we were getting into a
more southern region. The botanist, learning that we would leave before
daybreak, lighted an old pine branch and roamed about with his torch to
investigate the flora of the place. The others visited the emigrants to
whom the log-huts had been assigned, or sat round the fires smoking, or
gathered bracken and fragrant artemisia for our beds.
July 27th.—Had our breakfast before four A.
M., and in less than half an hour after, were en route for Fort Francis.
Two miles above the Fort the Lake ends and pours itself into Rainy River,
over a rapid which the emigrant's barges had not oars to shoot. They were
cast off, and we went on to the Fort and sent men up to bring them down.
The Fort is simply a Hudson's Bay Company's trading post;—the shop and the
cottages of the agent and employees in the form of a square, surrounded by
stockades about ten feet high. From the Fort is a beautiful view of the
Chaudière Falls which have to be portaged round. These are formed by the
river, here nearly two hundred yards wide, pouring over a granite ridge in
magnificent roaring cascades. A sandy plain of several acres, covered with
rich grass, extends around the Fort, and wheat, barley, and potatoes are
raised; but, beyond this plain, is marsh and then rock. A few fine cattle,
in splendid condition, were grazing upon the level. On the potato leaves
we found the " Colorado Bug," that frightful pest which seems to be moving
further east every year.
Half a dozen wigwams were tenanted in the
vicinity of the Fort, and there were scores of roofless poles, where, a
fortnight ago, had been high feasting for a few days. A thousand or twelve
hundred Ojibbeways had assembled to confer with Mr. Simpson, the Dominion
Indian Commissioner, as to the terms on which they would allow free
passage through, and settlement in, the country. No agreement had been
come to, as their terms were considered extravagant.
Justice, both to the Indians and to the
emigrants who are invited to make their home in this newly opened country,
demands that a settlement of the difficulty be made as soon as possible.
It may be, and very probably is, true that some of them are vain, lazy,
dirty, and improvident. The few about Fort Francis did not impress us
favourably. They contrasted strikingly with our noble Iroquois. The men
were lounging about, lolling in their wigwams, playing cards in the shade,
or lying on their faces in the sun; and, though not one of them was doing
a hand's turn, it was a matter of some difficulty to get four or five to
go with us to the North-west Angle, to replace those who had come from
Shebandowan and whose engagement ended here. There were some attempts at
tawdry finery about them all. The men wore their hair plaited into two or
more long queues, which, when rolled up on the head, looked well enough,
but which usually hung down the sides of the face, giving them an
effeminate look, and all the more so because bits of silver or brass were
twisted in or ringed round with the plaits. One young fellow that
consented to paddle, had long streamers of bright ribbon flying from his
felt hat. Another poor looking creature had his face streaked over with
red ochre—of course to show how brave and blood-thirsty he was. Some wore
blankets, folded loosely and gracefully about them, instead of coats and
trousers; but one thing we remarked was that every one of them had some
good clothes; the construction of the road being the cause of this, for
all who wish can get employment in one way or another in connection with
it. At Fort Francis the hulls of two steamers, to be over a hundred feet
in length, for use on Rainy river and Lake of the Woods, are now being
built; and Indians who cannot work at bringing in timber or at ship
carpentering, can be employed as voyageurs, or to improve the portages, or
to fish or hunt, or in many other ways. But whatever the benefits that
have been conferred on them, or whatever their natural defects, they
surely have rights to this country, though they have never divided it up
into separate personal holdings. They did not do so, simply because their
idea was that the land was free to all. Each tribe had its own ground,
which extended over hundreds of miles, and every man had a full right to
all of that as far as he could occupy it. Wherever he could walk, ride, or
canoe, there the land and the water were his. If he went to the land of
another tribe, the same rule held good; he might be scalped as an enemy,
but he ran no risk of being punished as a trespasser.
And now a foreign race is swarming over the
country, to mark out lines, to erect fences, and to say "this is mine and
not yours," till not an inch shall be left the original owner. All this
may be inevitable. But in the name of justice, of doing as we would be
done by, of the "sacred rights" of property, is not the Indian entitled to
liberal, and, if possible, permanent compensation? What makes it difficult
to arrange a settlement with the Ojibbeways is, that they have no chiefs
who are authorized to treat for them. This results from their scattered
and dispersed state as a nation. The country they live in is poorly
supplied with game, and produces but little of itself, and the Indian does
not farm. It is thus impossible for them to live in large bodies. They
wander in groups and families from place to place, often suffering the
extreme of hunger, and sometimes starved outright. Each group has
generally one or more men of greater moral or physical power than the
rest, and these are its chiefs, chiefs who have no hereditary rank, who
have never been formally elected, and who are quietly deposed when greater
men than they rise up. Their influence is indirect, undefined, wholly
personal, and confined to the particular group they live with. They can
scarcely speak for the group, and not at all for the nation. When anything
has to be done for the nation as a whole, there is then no other way but
for the nation to meet en masse. Even then they elect no representative
men, unless specially requested. Those of greatest age, eloquence, or
personal weight, speak for the others; but decisions can be come to only
by the crowd. Of course they could not have existed, thus loosely bound
together, had they lived in large bodies, or been pressed by powerful
enemies. But they are merely families and groups, and their lands have no
special attraction for other Indian tribes. Neither can they be formidable
as enemies to settlers on this same account, should the worst come to the
worst; but their feebleness makes it the more incumbent on the Government
of a Christian people to treat them not only justly but generously. After
breakfast we resolved to paddle down the river, till overtaken by the
steam launch with the emigrants. The day was very warm; when we landed,
about twelve miles on, to dine, the thermometer stood at 87° in the shade.
Our secretary left the thermometer at this halt, hanging on the shady side
of a tree; but, fortunately, the Chief was able to produce another from
the bag.
Rainy River is broad and beautiful; and flows
with an easy current through a low-lying and evidently fertile country.
For the first twenty-five miles, twenty or thirty feet above the present
beach or intervale, rises, in terrace form, another, evidently the old
shore of the river, which extends far back, like a prairie. The richness
of the soil is evident, from the luxuriance and variety of the wild
flowers. Much of the land could be cleared almost as easily as the
prairie; other parts are covered with trees, pines, elms, maples, but
chiefly aspens.
Thirty-five miles from Fort Francis we ran the
Manitou rapids and, five miles further on, the Sault, neither of them
formidable. A moderately powerful steamer could easily run up as well as
shoot them. Beyond the Sault we landed to take in wood for the tug, and
tea for ourselves. The Botanist came up to us in a few minutes with wild
pea and vetch vines eight feet high, which grew so thickly, not far off,
that it was almost impossible to pass through them. The land is a heavy
loam,—once the bed of the river,—and is called "Muskeg" here, though, as
that is the name usually given to ancient peat-bogs or tamarack swamps
abounding in springs, it is not very appropriate. The time will come when
every acre of these banks of Rainy river will be waving with grain, or
producing rich heavy grass, for countless herds of cattle.
It was now sunset, and the captain of the tug
said that it would take six hours yet to reach "Hungry Hall." We resolved,
in accordance with our programme, to go on; but the Colonel preferred to
camp and, perhaps, overtake us next day. So it was decided, but the
Iroquois did not like the arrangement at all, as it was a break-up of
their party; Louis tried to get with us by exchanging places with Baptiste,
but Baptiste couldn't see it. We were sorry to part with Ignace and Louis,
even for twenty-four hours, and perhaps altogether; but as the night was
pleasant, and we wished to rest the next day, and stick to our programme
on all occasions if possible, we had to say "good-ye." M------'s party
came with us, and so did the barges with the emigrants.
On we swept, down the broad, pleasant river,
with its long reaches, beautiful at night as they had been in the bright
sunshine. At times a high wall of luxuriant wood rose on each side, and
stretched far ahead in curves that looked, in the gloaming, like
cultivated parks. Occasionally an islet divided the river; and, at such
places, a small Indian camp was usually pitched. Of the seventy-five miles
of Rainy River, down which we sailed to-day, every mile seemed well
adapted for cultivation and the dwellings of men. At eleven o'clock the
moon rose; at half-past twelve we reached Hungry Hall, a post of the H. B.
Company and a village of wigwams, out of which all the natives rushed,
some of them clothed scantily and others less than scantily, to greet the
new comers, with "Ho! Ho!" or "B'jou, B'jou." Baptiste urged us not to
stop here, as the Indians of the place were such thieves that they would "
steal the socks off us," and spoke of good camping ground a mile and a
half further on. We took his advice, after getting a supply of flour,
pork, and tea from the store, and, after asking the captain of the steamer
to delay starting on the morrow as long as he possibly could, paddled
ahead. We soon reached Baptiste's point, pitched our tents over luxuriant
masses of wild flowers heavy with dew, and, in a few minutes, were all
sound asleep.
July 28th.—This morning, for the first time
since leaving Lake Superior, we enjoyed the luxury of a long sleep, and
the still greater luxury of an hour's dozing, that condition between
sleeping and waking in which you are just enough awake to know that you
are not asleep. There was no hurry to-day, it was the day of rest; and we
hoped that the steamer wouldn't come till the afternoon or the morrow.
At 8.30 A. M., as breakfast was getting ready,
a distinguished visitor appeared, an old stately looking Indian, a chief,
we were informed, and the father of Blackstone. He came with only one
attendant; but two or three canoes made their appearance about the same
time, with other Indians, squaws, and papooses who squatted in groups on
the banks at respectful distances. The old Indian came up with a "B'jou,
B'jou,'' shook hands all round, and then drawing himself up,—knife in one
hand, big pipe in the other, the emblems of war and peace—commenced a long
harangue. We didn't understand a word; but one of the men roughly
interpreted, and the speaker's gestures were so expressive that the drift
of his meaning could be easily followed Pointing, with outstretched arms,
north, south, east and west, he told us that all the land had been his
people's, and that he now, in their name, asked for some return for our
passage through it. The aim of all the eloquence was simply a breakfast;
but the bearing and speech were those of a born orator. He had good
straight features, a large Roman nose, square chin, and, as he stood over
six feet in his moccasins, his presence was most commanding. One great
secret of impressive gesticulation—the free play of the arm from the
shoulder, instead of the cramped motion from the elbow—he certainly knew.
It was astonishing with what dignity and force, long, rolling, musical
sentences poured from the lips of one who would be carelessly classed by
most people as a Savage, to whose views no regard should be paid. When
ended, he took a seat on a hillock with the dignity natural to every real
Indian, and began to smoke in perfect silence. He had said his say, and it
was our turn now. Without answering his speech, which we could only have
done in a style far inferior to his, the Chief proposed that he should
have some breakfast. To show due respect to so great an O-ghe-mah, a
newspaper was spread before him as a table-cloth, and a plate of fried
pork placed on it, with a huge "slapjack" or thick pancake made of flour
and fat, one-sixth of which was as much as any white man's stomach could
digest. A large pannikin of tea, a beverage the Indians are immoderately
fond of, was also brought, and, by signs, he was invited to "fall to." For
some moments he made no movement, either from offended pride or
expectation that we would join him, or, more likely, only to show a
gentlemanly indifference to the food. But the fat pork and the fragrant
tea were irresistible. Many a great man's dignity has been overcome by
less. After he had eaten about half, he summoned his attendant to sit
beside him and eat, and to him, too, a pannikin of tea was brought. We
then told the old man that we had heard his words; that we were travellers
carrying only enough food for ourselves, but that we would bring his views
to the notice of the Government, and that his tribe would certainly
receive justice, as it was the desire of our Great Mother the Queen, that
all her children—red as well as white—should be well cared for. He at once
assented, though whether he would have done so with equal blandness had we
given him no breakfast is questionable.
At 10 o'clock, the steamer came along to our
great disappointment, but there was nothing for it but to 'hook on.' A few
miles through long reaches of wide expanding sedge and marsh brought us to
the Lake of the Woods. An unbroken sheet of water, ten miles square,
called "The Traverse," is the first part of this Lake that has to be
crossed; but, as a thunder storm seemed brewing behind us, the captain
steered to the north behind a group of islets that fringe the shore. In
half an hour an inky belt of cloud stretched over us from north to south,
and, when it burst, the torrent was as if the lake had turned upside down.
The storm moved with us, as in a circle, flashes of lightning coming
simultaneously from opposite quarters of the heavens. First we had the
wind and rain on our backs, then on the left, then in our faces, and then
on the right. The captain made for a little bay in an islet near at hand,
and, though the weather cleared, it looked threatening enough to make him
decide to put the steamer's fire out and wait. The islet was merely a sand
dune, covered with coarse grasses and small willows, though in a storm
these sand hills might be mistaken for formidable rocks. As there was not
enough wood on it for both parties, we gave it up to the crew and the
emigrants, and paddled to another a mile ahead. This islet was of
gneissoid rock and had a bold headland covered with good wood. The
botanist found the ash-leaved maple, the nettle tree, and an abundance of
wild flowers; twenty-four kinds that he had not seen since joining the
expedition, and, of these, eight with which he was unacquainted.
Scarcely were our canoes hauled up, when the
Colonel came along. His men had been so anxious to have all their party
together that they had paddled steadily at their hardest for seven hours.
Louis at once set to work to get dinner; and, it being Sunday, several
delicacies were brought out in addition to the standing dishes of pork,
biscuit, and tea. From the Colonel's stores came Mullagatawny soup,
Bologna sausage, French mustard, Marmalade, and, as every one carried with
him an abundant supply of the famous 'black sauce,' we had a great feast.
After dinner, all the party, except the pagan
Ojibbeways, assembled for divine service. The form compiled for the
surveying parties was read; the 'Veni Creator' sung in Iroquois by the
Indians; and a short sermon preached. Although the Iroquois understood but
few words of English, they listened most devoutly, and we listened with as
much attention to their singing. To hear those children of the forest, on
a lonely isle in a lake that Indian tradition says is ever haunted by
their old deities, chanting the hymn that for centuries has been sung at
the great Councils and in the high Cathedrals of Christendom, moved us
deeply.
After tea, candles were lit in the tents, as
this evening we were not too tired to read. Our candlestick was a simple
and effective Indian contrivance. A stick of any length you desired was
slit at the top and then stuck in the ground. A bit of birch-bark or paper
was doubled; in the fold the candle was placed, and the ends were then
inserted in the slit. The stick thus held the ends tight, and the candle
upright. We spent a quiet pleasant evening and about 10 o'clock "turned
in."
July 29th.—Rose fresh and eager for the
journey, and had a dip in the lake; there was a heavy sea on the traverse,
and, as the little steamer was not very sea-worthy, it was doubtful if she
would attempt the passage. But, while we were at breakfast, she was
announced as making in our direction. Orders were at once given to take
down the tents and embark the stores, but the Indians showed some
reluctance to move. They said that it would be safer to trust to the
paddles; that the waves in the middle of the traverse would be heavy, and
that, if the canoes were forced through them, the bow or side would be
broken in. We overruled their doubts, with a show of confidence, and
started at 7.30 A.M.
Instead of the long single line of canoes that
had been formed on previous days, they were now formed two abreast, and
the connecting lines of the first two were shortened, and tied to the
middle bench of the big barge which contained the emigrants' luggage. This
worked admirably, as the barge broke the waves, and, in the comparatively
smooth water immediately behind her, the two canoes rode easily, the
five-fathom one to windward and a smaller one under her lee; close after
these came the other two canoes. The passage was made safely, and the
water for the rest of the day was only rippled slightly, as we took a
circuitous route through innumerable islets, instead of the short and
direct one over the unbroken part of the lake. The forenoon was cold and
cloudy, but occasionally the sun shone cheerily out. Every one was
thankful for the clouds and coolness, as they could note and enjoy the
changing scenery, whereas the day before yesterday, in coming down Rainy
River, they had suffered from the rays of the sun beating down fiercely,
and reflected on every side from the water. To sit still in the canoes and
suffer headache and drowsiness was a heavy price to pay for the pleasure
of a glowing sun. The Indians, who seemed able to do without sleep, if
necessary, but willing to take any quantity when they could get it, now
slept soundly in the bottom of the canoes.
At mid-day we landed for dinner in a bay on a
fire-swept islet. The Doctor and L------baked and fried some very superior
slap-jacks, which were a welcome addition to the invariable menu of tea,
pork, and biscuits. The Colonel and the boys made the circuit of the islet
with their guns; but saw nothing worth shooting at except a solitary duck,
which they didn't get. The Botanist was disappointed in his explorations,
and took to collecting beetles as he couldn't get flowers.
Lake of the Woods has been shorn of much of
its beauty by the fires which have swept over many of its islets; and, the
character of its beauty being the same as that with which we had been
already almost surfeited, it did not strike us as it certainly would one
coming from the west. The fires have also revealed the nakedness, as far
as soil is concerned, of its shores and islets which are low, hard,
gneissoid rocks, covered with but poor timber even where it has been
spared.
In the afternoon a favorable wind helped us
on; the barge hoisted a sail, and between wind and steam we made seven or
eight miles an hour. The tug stopped twice for wood; but such despatch was
shown that though there was neither wharf nor platform, and the tug had to
be held by boat hooks to the rocks, and at the same time kept from dashing
against them, the whole thing was done at each place in ten minutes.
Captain Bell's style of wooding up contrasted favorably with that of the
captain of the Frances Smith.
The last eight or nine miles of the Lake,
which were to be the last of our journey by water, led up a long bay to
what is called the "North-west Angle," a point from which a road has been
made to Fort Garry, so that travellers by this route now escape the
terrible portages of the Winnipeg river and the roundabout way by Lake
Winnipeg. The breeze chased us up finely, and we congratulated ourselves
on having started in the morning, as the passage across "The Traverse"
would have been an impossibility with the afternoon's wind. The land
became lower as we sailed west. We were approaching the Eastern boundary
of the great prairies, that extend to the west for the next thousand
miles. A vast expanse of reeds lined both sides of the channel, and beyond
these the wood looked poor and scrubby. The Indians, however, assured us
that the land was good,—indeed, that it was the only lake of all that we
had seen that had any land about it at all.
At sunset, the "North-west Angle," the end of
this side of the Lake of the Woods, was reached. It seems that this point,
though far North of the 49th degree, or the boundary line between the
Dominion and the United States, is claimed by the Republic, and that their
claim is sustained by an evident verbal mistake in the Treaty that defines
the boundary. "North-west" has been inserted instead of "South-west." If
so, it is only another instance in which the diplomatists of the Empire
have been outwitted by the superior knowledge and unscrupulous-ness of our
neighbours.
As we rounded out of the Bay into a little
creek, the "Angle" seemed to be a place of some importance to the eyes of
travellers who had not seen anything like a crowd in their last four
hundred miles of travel. Fifty or sixty people, chiefly Indians, crowded
about the landing place, and the babble and bustle was to us like a return
to the world; but, after having satisfied themselves with a good look at
us, and a joyous boisterous greeting to our Ojibbeways, whom they carried
off to an Indian and half-breed "ball" in the neighborhood, we were left
alone in the dirtiest, most desolate-looking, mosquito-haunted of all our
camping grounds. In such circumstances it was indispensable to be jolly;
so Louis was summoned and instructed to prepare for supper everything good
that our stores contained. The result was a grand success, and the looks
of the place improved materially.
The chief received two letters at this point;
one from Governor Archibald inviting us to come direct to Government House
at Fort Garry : another from the District Superintendent of the road,
putting some few things of his at our disposal and also his half-breed
cook. As cook had taken advantage of his master's absence to treat and be
treated up to the hilarious point, his services, much to his amazement,
were quietly dispensed with. At 11 o'clock we turned in under our canvas,
having arranged that the waggons to take us on should be ready at 4 A.M.
July 30th.—Waked at 4.30, by the arrival of
the waggons and the sound of heavy rain. Drank a cup of tea and were off
in an hour on the hardest day's journey that we had yet had. It was two
o'clock the following morning when we got out of the waggons for the
night's rest, having travelled eighty miles in the twenty hours.
Those eighty miles, between the North-west
Angle and Oak Point, were through a country monotonous and utterly
uninteresting in appearance, but with resources that are sure to be
developed as the country farther west is opened up. The first twenty miles
are across a flat country, much of it marshy, with a dense forest of scrub
pine, spruce, tamarack, and, here and there, aspens and white birch. On
both sides of the road.
and in the more open parts of the country, all
kinds of wild fruit grow luxuriantly; strawberries, raspberries, black and
red currants, etc., etc., and, as a consequence, flocks of wild pigeons
and prairie hens are numerous. The pigeons rest calmly on the branches of
dead trees by the roadside, as if no shot had ever been fired in their
hearing. Great difficulties must have been overcome in making this part of
the road, and advantage has been skilfully taken of dry spots and ridges
of gravel or sand that occur here and there, running in the same general
direction as the road. All this part of road has been corduroyed and then
covered over with clay and sand, or gravel, where they could be got. The
land here is heavy black loam with clay underneath, just like prairie
land; with the prairie so near it is not likely to be soon cultivated; but
the wood on it will be in immediate demand both for railway purposes and
scantling.
The next section of the country is of a
totally different character. It is light and sandy, getting more and more
so, every ten miles or so further west. This total change in the character
of the soil afforded a rich feast to our Botanist. In the course of the
day he came on two or three distinct floras; and, although not many of the
species were new, and, in general features, the productions of the heavy
and the light soils were similar to those of like land farther east in
Ontario and the Lower Provinces, yet the luxuriance and variety were
amazing. He counted over four hundred different species in this one day's
ride. Great was the astonishment of our teamsters, when they saw him make
a bound from his seat on the waggon to the ground, and rush to the plain,
wood, or marsh. At first, they all hauled up to see what was the matter.
It must be gold or silver he had found; but when he came back triumphantly
waving a flower or bunch of grass, and exclaiming: "Did you ever see the
like of that?" "No, I never," was the general response from every
disgusted teamster. The internal cachinnation of a braw Scotch lad, from
the kingdom of Fife, over the phenomenon, was so violent, that he would
have exploded had he not relieved himself by occasional witticisms;
"Jock," he cried to the teamster who had the honor of driving our
Botanist, "tell yon man if he wants a load o' graiss, no' to fill the
buggy noo, an' a'll show him a fine place where we feed the horse." But
when one of us explained to the Scot that all this was done in the
interests of science, and would end in something good for schools, he
ceased to jibe, though he could not altogether suppress a deep hoarse
rumbling far down in his throat—like that of a distant volcano,—when the
Professor, as we now called him, would come back with an unusually large
armful of spoil. The bonny Scot was an emigrant who had been a farm
servant in Fife five years ago. He had come to the "Angle" this spring,
and was getting thirty dollars a month and his board, as a common
teamster. He was saving four-fifths of his wages, and intended in a few
months to buy a good farm on the Red River among his countrymen, and
settle down as a Laird for the rest of his life. How many ten thousands
more of Scotch lads would follow his example if they only knew how easy it
would be for them!
At our first station, White Birch river,
thirty miles from the angle, we had a lunch of Bologna sausage, and bread
baked by the keeper of the Station, a very intelligent man, a Scotchman
like the rest, who had once been a soldier. He was studying hard at the
Cree and Ojibbeway languages, and gave us much interesting information
about the country and the Indians. He attributed the failure of Mr.
Simpson, to make a treaty with the Indians at Fort Francis, in great
measure to the fact that Indians from the United States had been
instigated by parties interested in the Northern Pacific Railway to come
across and inflame their countrymen on our side to make preposterous
demands. The story does not sound improbable to those who know the
extremes which Railway Kings and companies in New York, and elsewhere in
the Republic, have gone in pushing their own line and doing everything per
fas atque nefas to crush opposition; and the promoters of the N. P.
Railroad are not in the best of humor at present because of the failure to
float their bonds in London or Frankfort, and because of the promising
out-look for the Canadian Pacific Railway. It is a little remarkable that
the Indians all over the Dominion are anxious to make Treaties, and are
easily dealt with, except in the neighbourhood of the boundary line. Mr.
Simpson, in his Report dated November, 1871, states that he had no
difficulty with the Indians in Manitoba Province, except near Pembina; and
there he says, "I found that the Indians had either misunderstood the
advice given them by parties in the settlement, well disposed towards the
Treaty, or, as I have some reason to believe, had become unsettled by the
representations made by persons in the vicinity of Pembina whose interests
lay elsewhere than in the Province of Manitoba; for, on my announcing my
readiness to pay them, they demurred at receiving their money until some
further concession had been made by me."
Seventeen miles further on—at White Mud
river—we dined; S------making some capital tomato-soup, and Mrs. McLeod,
of the Station, giving us some blueberry jam and good bread. Had we known
what was before us, some at least would have voted for remaining here all
night.
The next stage was to Oak Point, thirty-three
miles distant. The first half was over an abominable road, and, as we had
to take on the same horses, they lagged sadly. The sun had set before we
arrived at Broken Head creek, only half-way to Oak Point. Somewhere
hereabouts is the eastern boundary of Manitoba, and we are not likely to
forget soon the rough greeting the new Province gave us. Clouds gathered,
and, as the jaded horses toiled heavily on, the rain poured down furiously
and made the roads worse. It was so dark that the teamsters couldn't see
the horses; and, as it unfortunately happened that neither of them had
been over this part of the road before, they had to give the horses free
rein to go where they pleased, and—as they were dead beat—at the rate they
pleased. The black flies worried us to madness, and we were all heavy with
sleep. The hours dragged miserably on, and the night seemed endless; but,
at length emerging from the wooded country into the prairie, we saw the
light of the station two miles ahead. Arriving there wearied and soaked
through, we came to what appeared to be the only building—a half-finished
store of the Hudson Bay Company;—entering the open door, barricaded with
paint pots, blocks of wood, tools, etc., we climbed up a shaky ladder to
the second story, threw ourselves down on the floor, and slept heavily
beside a crowd of teamsters whom no amount of kicking could awake. That
night-drive to Oak Point we "made a note of."
July 31st.—Awakened at 8 A. M., by hearing a
voice exclaiming, "thirty-two new species already; it's a perfect floral
garden." Of course it was our Botanist, with his arms full of the
treasures of the prairie. We looked out and beheld a sea of green
sprinkled with yellow, red, lilac, and white. None of us had ever seen a
prairie before, and, behold, the half had not been told us! As you cannot
know what the Ocean is without seeing it, neither can you in imagination
picture the prairie.
Oak Point is thirty miles east from Fort
Garry, and a straight furrow could be run the whole distance, or north all
the way up to Lake Winnipeg. A little stream—the Seine—runs from Oak Point
into the Red River. The land along it in sections extending two miles into
the prairie is taken up by the French half-breeds; all beyond is waiting
for settlers.
After a good breakfast of mutton chops and
tea, prepared by the half-breed cook at the Station, we started in our
waggons for Fort Garry across the prairie. Tall, bright yellow, French
marigolds, scattered in clumps over the vast expanse, gave a golden hue to
the scene; and red, pink, and white roses, tansy, asters, blue-bells,
golden rods, and an immense variety of composite, thickly bedded among the
green grass, made up a bright and beautiful carpet. Farther on, the
flowers were fewer; but everywhere the herbage was luxuriant, admirable
for pasturage, and, in the hollows, tall enough for hay. Even where the
marshes intervened, the grass was all the thicker, taller and coarser, so
that an acre of marsh is counted as valuable to the settler as an acre of
prairie.
The road strikes right across the prairie,
and, though simply a trail made by the ordinary traffic, is an excellent
carriage road. Whenever the ruts get deep, carts and waggons strike off a
few feet, and make another trail alongside; and the old one, if not used,
is soon covered with new grasses. There is no sward; all the grasses are
bunch. Immense numbers of fat plover and snipe are in the marshes, and
prairie hens on the meadow land.
At 3 P.M., we reached the Red River, which
flows northward, at a point below its junction with the Assiniboine, and
crossed in a scow; drove across the tongue of land, formed by it and the
Assiniboine coming from the west, into the village of Winnipeg, and from
there to the Fort, where the Government House is at present.
Thus we finished our journey, from Lake
Superior to Red River, by that Dawson road, of which all had previously
heard much, either in terms of praise or disparagement. The total distance
is about five hundred and thirty miles; forty-five at the beginning and a
hundred and ten at the end by land; and three hundred and eighty miles
between, made up of a chain of some twenty lakes, lakelets and lacustrine
rivers, separated from each other by spits, ridges, or short traverses of
land or granite rocks, that have to be portaged across. For those three
hundred and eighty miles the only land suitable for agriculture is along
Rainy River, and, perhaps, around the Lake of the Woods. North and south
the country is a wilderness of lakes, or rather tarns on a large scale,
filling huge holes scooped out of primitive rock. The route is all that
the tourist could desire; the scenery picturesque, though rather
monotonous owing to the absence of mountains; the mode of travelling,
whether the canoes are paddled or tugged, novel and luxurious; and, if a
tourist can afford a crew of Indians and three or four weeks' time, he is
certain to enjoy himself, the necessity of having to rough it a good deal
only adding zest to the pleasure.
The road has been proved already on two
occasions to be a military necessity for the Dominion, until a railway is
built farther back from the boundary line. If Canada is to open up her
North-west to all the world for colonisation, there must be a road for
troops, from the first: there are sufficient elements of disorder to make
preparedness a necessity. As long as we have a road of our own, the United
States would perhaps raise no objection to Canadian volunteers passing
through Minnesota; were we absolutely dependent, it might be otherwise.
In speaking of this "Dawson road" it is only
fair to give full credit for all that has been accomplished. Immense
difficulties have been overcome, insomuch that, whereas it took Colonel
Wolsley's force nearly three months, or from early in June to August 24th,
to reach Fort Garry from Thunder Bay, a similar expedition could now do
the journey in two or three weeks.
But, as a route for trade, for ordinary travel
or for emigrants to go west, the Dawson road, as it now exists, is far
from satisfactory. Only by building a hundred and fifty-five miles or so
of railway at the beginning and the end, and by overcoming the intervening
portages in such a way that bulk would not have to be broken, could it be
made to compete even with the present route by Duluth and the railway
thence to Pembina.
The question, then, is simply whether or not
it is wise to do this, at an expenditure of some millions on a road the
greater part of which runs along the boundary line, after the Dominion has
already decided to build a direct line of railway to the North-west. This
year about seventy emigrants have gone by the road in the six weeks
between June 20th and August 1st. The station-masters and other agents on
the road, as a rule, do their very utmost; they have been well selected,
and are spirited and intelligent men; but the task given them to do is
greater than the means given will permit. The road is composed of fifteen
or twenty independent pieces; is it any wonder if these often do not fit,
especially as there cannot be unity of understanding and of plan, for
there is no telegraph along the route and it would be extremely difficult
to construct one? |