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DEDICATED
DEDICATED
What young man of our race would not gladly give a year of his life to roll backward the scroll of time for five decades and live that year in the romantic bygone-days of the Wild West; to see 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 trading-posts, hundreds of miles apart, and at best the traders could exchange t
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CHAPTER I
CHAPTER I
In 1907 I set out to journey by canoe down the Athabaska 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 my chief object
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CHAPTER II
CHAPTER II
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 31 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 Bay Company officials, goi
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CHAPTER III
CHAPTER III
Sunday morning, 26th of May, there was something like a strike among the sixty half-breeds and Indians that composed the crews. They were strict Sabbatarians (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 Rapids, twenty miles away, The breeds maintained, with many white swear words, for lack
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CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER IV
At Fort MacMurray we learned that there was no telling when the steamer might arrive; Major Jarvis was under orders to proceed without delay to Smith Landing; 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
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CHAPTER V
CHAPTER V
A few bands of Buffalo are said to exist in the country 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 invited 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
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CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VI
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 myself—all mounted, the native leading a packhorse 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 chos
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CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VII
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 willow 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 continued westward. The country now undulated somewhat and was varied with openings. Sousi says that when first he saw this region, 30 years ago, it was all open prairie, with timber
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CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER VIII
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 considerably more respect. Still it meant days of delay which, however, I aimed to make profitable by investigations near at hand. After all
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CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER IX
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 are 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 mosquitoes are a frightful curse. Ca
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CHAPTER X
CHAPTER X
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. 1 don't suppose you remember 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
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CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XI
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 c
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CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XII
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 hobbling 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, an
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CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIII
Several times during our river journey I heard reference 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 arrogance naturally invited sarcastic comment from all the world, and I was told I should doubtless see this remarkable person at Fort Smith. After the return from Buffalo hunt No. 2, and pending arrangements for hunt No. 3, 1 saw more
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CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XIV
There are no Rabbits in the north-west. This statement, 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; conditions are favourable; some unknown influence endows the females with unusual fecundity; they bear not one,
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CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XV
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 conditions 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,
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CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVI
We were still held back by the dilatory ways of our Indian friends, so to lose no time Preble and I determined 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 north
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CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVII
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 recommended as a good man and a moose-hunter. A "good man"
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CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XVIII
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, having 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 Corporal 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 a
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CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XIX
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 11 days from t
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CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XX
All night it rained; in the morning it was dull, foggy, and showery. Everything was very depressing, especially 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 disappointments will ever shine forth in my memory as the "Beautif
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CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXI
Early next morning Preble called on his old acquaintance, 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 whenever 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 onc
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CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXII
Sweeping generalisations are always misleading, therefore 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 instances 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 alr
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CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIII
It sounds like the opening of an epic poem but it is not. The Chipewyan 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 somewhat carelessly or guarded only from the sun. During canoe season the dogs are treated atrociously. Let us remember, first, t
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CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXIV
Hitherto I have endeavoured to group my observations 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 Loutit, besides Preble and myself, 10 in all; ready with mast and sail for fair wind, but also provided with heavy 16-foot oars for head-winds and calm. Harding says we should make Pike's Portage in 3 or 4 days. "Reached Moo
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CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXV
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 northmost zone of the forest, and the spruce trees showed everywhere that they were living a life-long b
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CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVI
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 Indians 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 Chee
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CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVII
Carved on the lobstick of the Landing were many names famous in the annals of this region, Pike, Maltern, McKinley, 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 inevitable stray Indian dog. First we made a meal, of course; then I explained to the crew that I wanted all the stuff carried over the portage, 31 miles, to the first lake. At once there was a row;
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CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXVIII
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 evidence of these powers in full blast, ripping, tearing reconstructing, while we looked on. All the way down the river we saw the process of undermining the bank, tearing down the trees to whirl them again on distant
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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 success; and not one of our caches was touched or injured.
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 success; 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. Here we had a sudden and unexpected onset of black flies; they appeared for the first time in numbers, and attacked us with a ferocity that made the mosq
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CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXX
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 remnants 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
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CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXI
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 scientists call them, the Arctic Region and the cold Temperate.
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CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXII
On August 7 we 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 squar
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CHAPTER XXXIII
CHAPTER XXXIII
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 s
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CHAPTER XXXIV
CHAPTER XXXIV
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 t
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CHAPTER XXXV
CHAPTER XXXV
In the afternoon, Preble, Billy, 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 Longspurs, Snowbirds, Pipits, Groundsquirrel, and Caribou, 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 nea
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CHAPTER XXXVI
CHAPTER XXXVI
Camp Musk-Ox provided many other items of interest 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 abo
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CHAPTER XXXVII
CHAPTER XXXVII
On this hill we divided, Preble and Billy going northward; 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 journeyed—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, m
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CHAPTER XXXVIII
CHAPTER XXXVIII
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 surrounded 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. O
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CHAPTER XXXIX
CHAPTER XXXIX
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 brilliant red, which I suppose meant that they were cleaned that day and still bloody. 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
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CHAPTER XL
CHAPTER XL
All night the storm of rain and snow raged around our camp on the south shore of Artillery Lake, but 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." Rai
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CHAPTER XLI
CHAPTER XLI
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 bundles of letters from home. It was eight o'clock, and of course black night when we
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CHAPTER XLII
CHAPTER XLII
Here again we had the unpleasant experience of sleeping indoors, a miserable, sleepless, stifling night, followed 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,
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CHAPTER XLIII
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
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CHAPTER XLIV
CHAPTER XLIV
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 ri
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CHAPTER XLV
CHAPTER XLV
"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; this Billy thought we could track up, so with two ropes he and Rob were hauling us, I in bow, Preble in stem; 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 Preb
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CHAPTER XLVI
CHAPTER XLVI
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 dangero
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CHAPTER XLVII
CHAPTER XLVII
It seems a law that every deep valley must be next a high mountain. Our sorrows ended when we quit the canyon, and then, as though in compensation, nature crammed the days with the small joys that seem so little and mean so much to the naturalist. Those last few days, unmarred of the smallest hardship, 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 scrambled
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CHAPTER XLVIII
CHAPTER XLVIII
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 ca
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