TRADER, SURVEYOR, EXPLORER
When Thompson returned to York factory in the spring of 1791, it was
to find that great changes had taken place at the fort. Five years
before, the tyrannous sway of old Humphrey Marten had come to an end,
and he had been succeeded as governor by Joseph Colen. This man was
to direct Thompson's movements during the next six years.
The new governor was a man of unquestioned ability; but his jealous
and suspicious temperament made him work at cross purposes with the
governor of Churchill, and brought him into frequent conflict with
Tomison at Cumberland House. He had never caught the spirit of the
aggressive policy initiated by Samuel Hearne, and preferred to
develop the fur trade with the Indians who came down to the coast for
trade, rather than to follow them to their hunting grounds. In his
reports to the directors in London, he endeavoured to excuse his lack
of enterprise by hurling vague accusations at his colleagues; while
his subordinates, men like Thompson and Malcolm Ross, were irritated
and provoked by the lack of support from headquarters which
constantly frustrated their efforts to push forward the work of
exploring the more remote interior.
The seven years of David's apprenticeship were now at an end, and he
was engaged at a good salary as trader and surveyor to the Company.
He was not yet, however, given an opportunity of practising his
profession. The previous spring, an ice-jam at the mouth of the
Hayes river had caused the water to rise, flooding the low land on
which the factory was situated; and for a year or more, Thompson had
to assist Colen in moving the fort to its present site on a high clay
bank about a quarter mile further up stream.
Meanwhile Philip Turnor had returned from a journey to Lake
Athabaska, and the report of his explorations had reached the
directors in London. Proceeding from Cumberland House, he had worked
his way north through Amisk and Pelican lakes to Frog Portage, a
distance of one hundred miles. After crossing the portage, he found
himself in the basin of the upper Churchill river. This stream he
ascended as far as Isle à la Crosse, and thence he made his way
through Buffalo lake and Lake la Roche to the Methy Portage. This
portage marks the divide between the waters that flow eastward to
Hudson Bay and those that discharge through the Mackenzie into the
Arctic ocean. Crossing the portage, he descended the Clearwater
river to its junction with the Athabaska, whose broad stream soon
carried him to the lake of that name. This was the regular route
followed by the Indians of the far north in their journeys to Hudson
Bay.
Turnor's report filled the directors with a desire to dispute the
trade of Lake Athabaska with the men of the North West Company; and
they bombarded Colen with instructions to send Ross and Thompson to
that region. But to Colen's mind there was a more pressing necessity
nearer home. The North-Westers had entered the rocky belt to the
south-west of York, and had monopolized trade throughout the
irregular series of lakes and rivers which form the tributaries of
the Nelson and lower Churchill, thus challenging the "English" on
their home front itself. Accordingly Colen ignored the instructions
from London, and despatched Ross and Thompson into this "muskrat
country," as it was called, with orders to build posts at strategic
points and restore the trade of the Company.
On the 5th of September, 1792, Thompson set forth with two canoes on
his first independent command. Rounding the point from York factory,
the canoes swung into the broad channel of the Nelson river. By the
end of the month they were well above Split lake, Thompson making a
survey as they moved along. At this point one of the canoes turned
aside to ascend Grass river, while Thompson with the other continued
along the main stream until he reached the upper end of Sipiwisk
lake. Here in a little cove formed by two projecting points of rock,
with the dark spruce forest at his back and a view to the south west
over the island-studded lake, he built his first trading post, and
settled down to face the winter in a country almost devoid of fish
and game.
His heart, however, was set on exploration. From the Indians he
learned that, besides the well-known route which had been followed by
Turnor to Lake Athabaska, there existed another, north from the
Churchill river to Reindeer lake, and thence westward by way of the
Black river to the east end of Lake Athabaska. This route he made up
his mind to explore.
Accordingly, when the ice had cleared from the rivers, he set forth
alone without any help or encouragement from headquarters.
Descending to the lower end of Sipiwisk lake, he turned to the left
and passed by a series of portages through Wintering, Red Paint and
Burntwood lakes to the Missinippi or Churchill river, up which he
paddled for a distance of thirty-three miles. But the Indian guides
whom he had expected to meet failed to put in an appearance, and he
was forced to turn back. He therefore descended through Burntwood
lake and the Nelson river to York factory.
Colen had given the English directors to understand that he planned
to send Ross and Thompson to the Athabaska country; and with the
arrival of the annual ship in the autumn of '93, they wrote that they
expected much good to follow from the projected expedition, and that
they wished William Cook, who had accompanied David into the Muskrat
country the previous autumn, to join with the others in the invasion
of the far north. But Cook was not recalled from his post on Split
lake, and Ross and Thompson were sent up the Saskatchewan to
Cumberland House. Thence Thompson was despatched, not to Lake
Athabaska, as he had expected, but westward along the river to a new
post called Buckingham House, from which he rode still further west
to the Beaver hills near the future site of Fort Augustus (Edmonton).
Returning, he surveyed the Saskatchewan east from Buckingham House to
the Forks, and from the Forks he resurveyed the rest of the river.
From Cumberland House, he explored a new route through Goose, Reed,
and Burntwood lakes to the Nelson, and thus opened up a direct line
of communication between the dépôt at Cumberland House and York
factory, much superior to the old course by way of Lake Winnipeg and
the Hayes river.
Thompson's reappearance at York without having been to the Athabaska
country made it necessary for Colen to do no little explaining to the
impatient London directors. In a long letter to them, he hinted that
it was Tomison who was responsible for the fiasco. Tomison, he said,
had refused to pass his word for the advance of wages promised by the
Council to those who would volunteer to accompany the expedition.
Ross, he declared, was utterly disgusted with the repeated
disappointments, and would have returned at once to England, had not
Thompson prevailed upon him to make one last trial, this time by way
of Reindeer lake. Thompson and Ross, he added, were being fitted out
with canoes and supplies at York, and would be sent up the Nelson
river track. The directors were deceived, and swallowed their
disappointment, hoping to hear that the difficulties which stood in
the way of the Athabaska expedition had been successfully overcome.
But, even now, Thompson was sent, not to the North, but back once
more to the Muskrat country, this time to Reed lake. Here, in a
district comparatively rich in fish, game, and furs, he built a
house, and spent one of the coldest winters in the history of the
Hudson Bay. While hunting and trading, he also prepared for the
directors of the Company, the maps and surveys of the country which
he had already traversed. In July of the following year, 1795, he
paddled down the river on what was to be his last visit to York.
On this occasion Colen was absent on a trip to England, but the
factory was seething with discontent. Thompson found the staff
impatiently waiting, in order that he, the youngest and bravest among
them, might take the lead in drawing up a statement of the grievances
which they suffered under Colen's rule. This office he accepted,
although with some hesitation on account of the absence of the
governor. Assisted by his friend the surgeon, he drew up a statement
which Colen declared seriously prejudiced him in the eyes of the
directors; although, according to Thompson, not one half of the evils
were even mentioned of which the staff had cause to complain.
Thompson was not ashamed of the part he had played in this mutinous
outbreak. As soon as he had left the service, he took the
opportunity of explaining to his old chief that he was the author of
the protest which had so much displeased him. "Many of us," his
letter concluded, "acknowledge with readiness that you have some good
qualities, and I once had the greatest respect for you; I have some
yet, but----it is not my wish to say those things which I know you do
not wish to hear. How is it, Sir, that everyone who has once wished
you well should turn to be indifferent to you, and even some to hate
you, although they are constant in their other friendships?--there
must be a defect somewhere. The fact is, that from your peculiar
manner of conduct, you are also one of those unfortunate men who will
have many an acquaintance, but never a real friend."
Thompson's final break with Colen did not, however, occur until two
years later. He turned in his furs, and without waiting, except to
secure supplies for the coming winter, went back to his duties in the
Muskrat country. This time he built a house far to the north on Duck
Portage, the link connecting Burntwood lake with the Churchill river.
When spring opened, instead of returning to York, he made ready for
his dash to Lake Athabaska.
Formal permission had reached him from Colen, sanctioning his venture
into the unknown wilds. This, however, meant nothing, because it was
not accompanied by help of any kind. At that moment, indeed, the
Company was seriously crippled for lack of men to keep up the few
inland trading posts that then existed, for the war which was raging
between England and France had drained the Orkney islands of all men
who were fit for service in the army and navy. The few miserable
dwarfs who could be obtained for the fur trade excited the contempt
of even the Indians.
Thompson, nevertheless, was not to be deterred from his enterprise.
He proceeded at once to Fairford House, the trading post kept by
Malcolm Ross on the Churchill near the mouth of the Reindeer river,
where he hoped to get some assistance. To his great disappointment,
he found that not a man could be spared from the trade in furs.
There were, however, a few Chepawyan Indians lingering about the fort
and from among these he managed to engage two young men. Kozdaw and
"Paddy" had hunted for two winters in the country he was about to
explore, although neither of them had ever been on the rivers and
lakes in summer. Their only practice in canoes had been to lie
offshore in the lakes on a calm day, watching for the deer to take
refuge from the flies, and this gave them no experience of the
currents and rapids of rivers; yet, such as they were, Thompson had
no choice but to take them.
The first task was to construct a canoe. Having searched the forest
for a supply of birch bark, they made a boat seventeen feet in
length. Into this they packed their meagre outfit, a fowling piece
with forty balls, five pounds of shot, three flints and five pounds
of powder, a fishing net, a hatchet and a small tent of grey cotton.
These articles, together with a few handfuls of beads, rings, and
awls for trading, made up their terribly inadequate equipment.
In the grey dawn of a June morning, 1796, Thompson launched his canoe
on the turbid waters of the Missinippi. The party advanced rapidly,
making a survey as they went. For supplies they relied on their
solitary net and gun. Turning into the Reindeer river, they worked
their way north against a moderate current to Reindeer lake. A
hundred miles up the west coast of this lake brought them to a point
clothed with tolerably good pines. This point Thompson noted as a
suitable site for building a trading post on his return.
The whole distance through which they had come had a barren, rocky
appearance, relieved only by patches of stunted birch, aspen, and
spruce. Since there was little or no soil, the trees stood with
their roots interlaced like the trees on the frozen lands of Hudson
Bay; and, like them, they were kept moist in summer by the wet moss
with which their roots were covered. Through wide stretches the
forest fires had passed, leaving the country unsightly and ghostlike,
and destroying the wild animals of the forest. Thompson was now in
fact approaching the northern limit of trees, beyond which stretch
the barren lands, the home of the musk ox and caribou.
In order to avoid the wide circuit of the Cochrane river, which flows
to Reindeer lake from Lake Wollaston, the guides directed Thompson up
a stream that emptied from the west a few miles north of his point of
pines. From the head of this stream there was a passage by a series
of ponds and brooks to the south end of Wollaston lake. But the
water was low, and they were forced to carry their packs for the
better part of fifty miles, stumbling over the rocks and wading
through the marshes, while clouds of mosquitoes buzzed about their
defenceless heads. It was a welcome relief when they launched out on
the clear and deep waters of Lake Wollaston, which they crossed
without trouble to the Black river. Here they made camp on the
evening of June 23, and rested while Thompson took observations and
made up the notes of his survey.
Two days later they were once more under way. Lake Wollaston, as
Thompson discovered, was situated on the height of land between the
basins of Hudson Bay and the Mackenzie river. Part of its waters
discharged eastward and south into Reindeer lake, while part flowed
westward through the Black river into Lake Athabaska. From this
curious circumstance, the lake was known to the Indians as "Lake
Manito," and was considered to be of supernatural character.
Entering the Black river, the party passed at first through the quiet
reaches of the upper river, in a wretched country of solitude, where
the wild laugh of the loon alone woke the echoes of the barren hills.
Presently the banks closed in, and as the current stiffened, they had
to paddle vigorously to avoid the projecting rocks. Finally an
expansion of the stream brought them to Black lake. It was during
this stretch that they came upon the only human beings they had so
far encountered--five tents of Chepawyans, hunting and fishing in an
otherwise deserted land.
They could afford but one day to enjoy the hospitality of the
Indians. From Black lake, the river tumbles in two wild cascades to
the level of Lake Athabaska. A series of rapids, cutting through a
high hill, warned them that they were approaching the first of the
falls. For half a mile they shot the rapids to a point where the
river is compressed within a channel only twelve yards in width. At
the end of this channel, the current rushed against a projecting
ledge of rock with such force that the whole river seemed to be
turned up from its bottom. The dashing of the water against the
rocks, the deep roar of the torrent, the hollow sound of the fall, in
the midst of the dark, high, and frowning hills, made a sight so
grand and terrible that Kozdaw and Paddy were awe-struck, and offered
their simple tributes to the manito of the fall--the one a bit of
tobacco, the other a ring. Past this fall the travellers descended
by a well-beaten native trail. A second series of rapids and a
second fall brought them to the last lap of their journey, and they
paddled quietly for six miles into the east end of Lake Athabaska.
Here they passed the night, resting from their dangers, toils, and
sufferings under a pine tree which had been lopped and marked by
Philip Turnor in his survey of 1791.
Thompson's heart was thrilled by the thought that he had finally
accomplished the journey on which for the last five years his heart
had been set, and that in so doing he had blazed a trail through the
wilderness over ground which the feet of white men had never trod
before. He was sobered, however, by the prospect of the long and
difficult journey home. His net and gun afforded but a scanty supply
of food, and should these fail him, there was but slight hope of
succour. But gloomy as were his forebodings, it was well that he did
not know what lay before him.
Half way up the Black river, he encountered one of the rapids which
was broken about the middle by a twelve-foot fall. Portaging past
the fall, he attempted to "track" the canoe up the rest of the rapid.
The two Indians were ashore tugging at the tow-line, while Thompson
in the canoe tried to steer and at the same time direct their
movements. Near the head of the rapid there was at the water's edge
a tree which blocked their progress, and as the Indians stood
hesitating which side of it they should pass, the canoe sheered off
across the current. An upset was inevitable, had not Thompson waved
to the Indians to let go the line and leave him to his fate.
Springing to the bow, he cut the rope off short with the clasp knife
which he kept in his waistcoat pocket, and got the head of the canoe
around into the stream just in time to take the plunge over the
cataract. For an instant, Thompson was buried beneath the boiling
water at the foot of the fall. Striking his feet against the bottom,
he pushed himself to the surface close to the upturned canoe. This
he seized and dragged through shallow water to the beach. The
Indians came rushing to his assistance, and, while he lay on the
rocks, bruised, bleeding, and exhausted by his exertions, they
searched the shore below the rapids for what could be recovered of
their precious kit.
The gun, the axe, and the tent had remained fastened in the canoe.
In half an hour's time, the Indians brought back the cork-lined box
containing Thompson's instruments and the maps of his survey,
together with their three paddles and a pewter basin. Not one moment
was to be lost. Thompson's body was naked except for his shirt and a
thin linen vest, and his companions were in like condition. The
small tent they tore into three pieces with which to wrap themselves
as a defence against flies by day and chill by night. Worse still,
Thompson found as he painfully raised himself from the rocks that the
flesh of his foot had been torn away by the impact of the jagged
stones of the river bed, and a part of his share of the tent had to
be taken to bind the wound.
The first duty was to repair the canoe, and the Indians were sent to
the woods to procure gum from the pines. The question was then how
to light a fire, for they had neither flint nor steel. Thompson
pointed to his gun from which they took the flint, and with the steel
blade of his pocket knife they struck a spark. When the gum was
melted, they repaired the canoe and carried their kit above the fall
and rapids. The Indians shouldered the canoe, while behind them the
wounded leader hobbled painfully along under the burden of gun, axe,
and sextant case.
Night had fallen before they found time to make a fire and warm
themselves. Their situation was enough to strike terror into the
boldest heart. Destitute, almost naked, and suffering from the
weather, they faced a journey of three hundred miles through a barren
country. Yet Thompson did not despair. For two days they paddled
and portaged up the river without a bite to eat. On the afternoon of
the second day they saw two gulls hovering over a reedy bay as if to
protect their young. They found the nest and in it three young
gulls, but the few ounces of meat which they were able to pick from
their miserable carcases sufficed only to sharpen their hunger.
The next day as they went along, Thompson remembered an eagle's nest
on the banks of a small lake before them. When they came to the lake
they found the nest in the spreading branches of a birch tree, about
sixteen feet above the ground. Kozdaw had barely time to climb to
the nest before the old birds arrived. Paddy and Thompson, with
shouts and stones, succeeded in preventing them from attacking
Kozdaw, while the latter threw the two young eagles to the ground.
The birds fought with beak and claw for their lives, but were finally
killed and flung into the canoe.
In the evening, they opened the eagles by the gleam of the camp fire,
and divided the meat and yellow fat into three equal portions. While
Kozdaw roasted his meat and oiled his body with the fat, the others
ate only the fat, reserving the meat for next day. In the night they
were both awakened by a violent dysentery, which continued to plague
them for many days, although a strong infusion of a certain dried
moss, known as Labrador tea, brought them some relief.
Day by day they continued their voyage, subsisting on the wretched
crow-berries of the far north. By the sixteenth of July, Thompson
and Paddy were like skeletons, from hunger, dysentery, and cold. On
that day Thompson scratched what he thought was his dying message on
a scrap of birch bark which Kozdaw was to carry back with him to
civilization. Late in the afternoon, as they paddled weakly and
painfully along, they came upon two tents of Chepawyans. The savages
pitied their condition and restored them with broth. From them
Thompson procured some provisions, a flint and a few rounds of
ammunition, together with a pair of shoes each for himself and his
men. Thus they were able to proceed on their journey, and arrived
without further adventure at Fairford House after an absence of
thirty-one days.
At Fairford House Thompson was joined by Malcolm Ross with a stock of
provisions for the northern trade, and together they returned to
build a trading post on Reindeer lake. Along with the supplies, Ross
brought a letter from Colen to Thompson, containing a curt order that
he should cease his surveys and explorations. This was his reward.