Six Hundred Miles in a Birch Canoe.
The following summer, I hired a number of men to pack some supplies from
Duluth to the shores of Lake Vermilion. I had with me one white man to
assist me in a reestimate of the pine timber that I had bought at the
land sale in December. Canoes were purchased of the Indians, and I
employed some of them to go as packers and canoemen.
The work first took the party eastward a distance of fifty miles. Not
only was the timber reexamined, but the character of the streams was
carefully noted, with reference to their feasibility for floating out
the timber, whenever the time should come for it to be cut and brought
to market. All of that country is very rugged and much broken. The
shores of the lakes are bold and rock-bound. Islands exist in nearly all
of the lakes, and at that time they were thoroughly wooded, many of them
containing fine bunches of pine timber. The country was picturesque and
the scenery most enchanting. Aquatic birds of various species were
frequently startled from the water as our canoes came in sight of them.
Fish were abundant and could be taken in almost any one of the lakes, by
throwing out a line. There were caribou and moose in the country, but no
deer at that time.
Bands of Indians were living along these waters, most of them belonging
to the United States, but, as we turned and went westward, on the waters
of Lake La Croix we met many Canadian Indians. They all spoke the same
language, though sometimes with great difference in accent. There were
many waterfalls, and around these, in every instance, a portage had to
be made of all our supplies and of our canoes. One day's experience was
much like that of its predecessor or like that of the one to follow. On
the whole, the work was less arduous than that in a country which is
mostly land and not cut up by numerous lakes, as is the condition in all
of the northern woods in Minnesota. A camping ground would be selected
on a shore of a lake, and, from this one camp, it was often our
experience that several days' work could be economically accomplished
before it was necessary to again move. The timber that we wished to
examine often lay on either side of the lake on the shore of which the
camping ground had been selected. Thus the work continued until the
party reached Rainy Lake. This lake is fifty-five miles long, and at its
foot, at that time, on the Canadian side, was Fort Francis. Much of this
water route was then known as the Dawson Route. It had been used by the
Canadian government to reach the Canadian Northwest with its soldiers,
at the time of the Riel Rebellion. The shattered remains of a number of
French batteaus were seen on the rapids between different lakes, where
an attempt had been made to navigate the waters, which had disastrously
failed.
[Illustration: "We have seen the moose standing out in the bays of the
lakes". (Page 172.)]
Just below Fort Francis, which is at the beginning of the Rainy River
which flows into Lake of the Woods, we found a Canadian farmer. He had
been an engineer on board a Canadian steamer that plied from Rat Portage
to Fort Francis. When the rebellion was over, and there was no longer
use for steamboating, this man determined to take a homestead under the
Canadian land laws. This was at the latter end of July. While our party
was preparing dinner on the bank of the river at the edge of the
settler's meadow, he came down to see us. It was seldom that he saw any
of the white race, and, when one chanced to pass by, he was always glad,
he said, to see him and learn something of the outside world. He
invited us to go back into his meadow where, he assured us, we should
find an abundance of ripe, wild strawberries. This we found to be true,
and the berries were indeed a luxury to a lot of men who had been living
on nothing better than dried peaches or dried apples, stewed and made
into sauce.
The work of examining lands was now completed for this trip, but the
easiest way out was to continue down Rainy River into Lake of the Woods,
and across Lake of the Woods to Rat Portage, where a train on the
Canadian Pacific could be boarded and the journey continued to Winnipeg,
and from thence by rail back to Minneapolis. At that time no logs had
been driven down the Rainy River to mar the beauty of its shore lines
which were the most beautiful of any river I have ever seen in Minnesota
or in Canada. In some places for half a mile at a stretch there would be
a continuous gravel shore. Its waters were deep and clear.
Near the mouth of Rainy River, our party overtook Colonel Eaton and his
helper, a man from Wisconsin, whose name, I believe, was Davis. Colonel
Eaton was United States government inspector of lands, and was on a
tour of inspection to ascertain to what extent the land laws relating
to homestead entries were being complied with. Each was glad to meet the
other, and in company, we traveled from that time until we finally
arrived at Rat Portage.
Lake of the Woods is a very large body of water, and not everywhere is
it safe to venture out upon it in small boats or canoes. Colonel Eaton
had a staunch rowboat. At Rainy Lake I had paid off and dismissed most
of my helpers, so that I had but one canoe remaining. This was occupied
by myself and the white man, my assistant, whom I had taken at the
beginning of the journey. For a considerable distance, the party was
able to keep behind the islands and away from the open lake, until it
arrived at a point that is known as a traverse, a wide opening between
islands, where the westerly winds, if blowing heavily, have a tremendous
sweep. Our party found the whitecaps rolling in across this traverse, on
the top of waves so high that neither of our crafts could possibly live,
if out in them. Here, on this island, we went ashore and made our camp
as comfortable as possible while waiting for the wind and waves to
subside.
Both parties had been long from home, and were practically without food
to eat. We were obliged to stay on that island three nights and two days
before the water had calmed sufficiently for us to cross the traverse.
In the meantime, we had eaten the last of our supplies, and were
subsisting wholly upon what blueberries we were able to find growing on
the island. Some public work was about to begin up the Rainy River, and
we had been informed that a steamer from Rat Portage, loaded with
various articles of merchandise, was liable to come up the lake to enter
the river at almost any time; consequently we were continually on the
lookout for the steamer, it being the only source from which we could
hope to get anything to eat, before we should arrive at Rat Portage.
Finally the steamer was spied on the afternoon of the second day of our
unforeseen residence on the island. With towels tied to poles, our
party, hoping to be able to signal the passing steamer, went to the
shore of the island. It was well out on the lake from our shore, and our
hopes began to wane as we saw it steam by us, not having given us any
indication that it had seen our signal. Suddenly, however, our fears
were turned to hope and joy as we saw its bow turning in our direction.
It made a long sweep on account of the high sea, and came in behind our
island where the water was deep, and the nose of the steamer was brought
almost to our shore. We quickly told the captain our plight, and asked
only that we might purchase of him a little flour and a little meat, a
little tea and a little coffee, sufficient to take us to Rat Portage,
including a possible longer delay on the island because of the wind that
was yet blowing. This he gladly gave us, refusing to accept any
compensation; and with grateful hearts, we waved him adieu as the boat
resumed its course. The following morning, early, the lake was quite
calm; and, after a hasty breakfast, we pulled out from shore, crossed
the traverse, and once more got behind the friendly islands. From this
time on to Rat Portage, our journey was without special interest, the
party returning together by rail to Minneapolis.