Red Deer Lake.--Antoine Déjarlais.--Beaver River.--N.
Nadeau.--Moose River.--Bridge Lake.--Saskatchawine River.--Fort
Vermilion.--Mr. Hallet.--Trading-Houses.--Beautiful
Country.--Reflections.
The 5th of June brought us to the beautiful sheet of water called _Red
Deer lake_, irregular in shape, dotted with islands, and about forty
miles in length by thirty in its greatest width. We met, about the
middle of it, a small canoe conducted by two young women. They were
searching for gulls' and ducks' eggs on the islands, this being the
season of laying for those aquatics. They told us that their father was
not far distant from the place where we met them. In fact, we presently
saw him appear in a canoe with his two boys, rounding a little isle. We
joined him, and learned that his name was Antoine Déjarlais; that he
had been a guide in the service of the Northwest Company, but had left
them since 1805. On being made acquainted with our need of provisions,
he offered us a great quantity of eggs, and made one of our men embark
with his two daughters in their little canoe, to seek some more
substantial supplies at his cabin, on the other side of the lake. He
himself accompanied us as far as a portage of about twenty-five yards
formed at the outlet of the lake by a Beaver dam. Having performed the
portage, and passed a small pond or marsh, we encamped to await the
return of our man. He arrived the next morning, with Déjarlais, bringing
us about fifty pounds of dried venison and from ten to twelve pounds of
tallow. We invited our host to breakfast with us: it was the least we
could do after the good offices he had rendered us. This man was married
to an Indian woman, and lived with his family, on the produce of his
chase; he appeared quite contented with his lot. Nobody at least
disputed with him the sovereignty of Red Deer lake, of which he had; as
it were, taken possession. He begged me to read for him two letters
which he had had in his possession for two years, and of which he did
not yet know the contents. They were from one of his sisters, and dated
at _Verchères_, in Canada. I even thought that I recognised the
handwriting of Mr. L.G. Labadie, teacher of that parish. At last, having
testified to this good man, in suitable terms, our gratitude for the
services he had rendered us, we quitted him and prosecuted our journey.
After making two portages, we arrived on the banks of Beaver river,
which was here but a rivulet. It is by this route that the canoes
ordinarily pass to reach Little Slave lake and the Athabasca country,
from the head of Lake Superior, via., _Cumberland House_, on _English
river_. We were obliged by the shallowness of the stream, to drag along
our canoes, walking on a bottom or beach of sand, where we began to feel
the importunity of the mosquitoes. One of the hunters scoured the woods
for game but without success. By-and-by we passed a small canoe turned
bottom up and covered with a blanket. Soon after we came to a cabin or
lodge, where we found an old Canadian hunter named _Nadeau_. He was
reduced to the last stage of weakness, having had nothing to eat for two
days. Nevertheless, a young man who was married to one of his daughters,
came in shortly after, with the good news that he had just killed a
buffalo; a circumstance which determined us to encamp there for the
night. We sent some of our men to get in the meat. Nadeau gave us half
of it, and told us that we should find, thirty miles lower down, at the
foot of a pine tree, a _cache_, where he had deposited ten swan-skins,
and some of martin, with a net, which he prayed us to take to the next
trading-post. We quitted this good fellow the next morning, and pursued
our way. Arriving at the place indicated, we found the _cache_, and took
the net, leaving the other articles. A short distance further, we came
to Moose river, which we had to ascend, in order to reach the lake of
that name. The water in this river was so low that we were obliged
entirely to unload the canoes, and to lash poles across them, as we had
done before, that the men might carry them on their shoulders over the
places where they could not be floated. Having distributed the baggage
to the remainder of the hands, we pursued our way through the woods,
under the guidance of Mr. Decoigne.
This gentleman, who had not passed here for nineteen years, soon lost
his way, and we got separated into small parties, in the course of the
afternoon, some going one way, and some another, in search of Moose
lake. But as we had outstripped the men who carried the baggage and the
small stock of provision that old Nadeau had given us, Mr. Wallace and I
thought it prudent to retrace our steps and keep with the rear-guard. We
soon met Mr. Pillet and one of the hunters. The latter, ferreting the
woods on both sides of a trail that he had discovered, soon gave a
whoop, to signify that we should stop. Presently emerging from the
underwood, he showed us a horsewhip which he had found, and from which
and from other unmistakeable signs, he was confident the trail would
lead either to the lake or a navigable part of the river. The men with
the baggage then coming up, we entered the thicket single file, and were
conducted by this path, in a very short time, to the river, on the banks
of which were visible the traces of an old camping ground. The night was
coming on; and soon after, the canoes arrived, to our great
satisfaction; for we had begun to fear that they had already passed. The
splashing of their paddles was a welcome sound, and we who had been wise
enough to keep behind, all encamped together.
Very early on the 8th, I set out accompanied by one of the hunters, in
quest of Messrs. D. Stuart, Clarke and Decoigne, who had gone on ahead,
the night previous. I soon found MM. Clarke and M'Gillis encamped on the
shore of the lake. The canoes presently arrived and we embarked; MM.
Stuart and Decoigne rejoined us shortly after, and informed us that they
had bivouacked on the shore of Lac _Puant_, or Stinking lake, a pond
situated about twelve miles E.N.E. from the lake we were now entering.
Finding ourselves thus reunited, we traversed the latter, which is about
eighteen miles in circuit, and has very pretty shores. We encamped, very
early, on an island, in order to use old Nadeau's fishing net. I visited
it that evening and brought back three carp and two water-hens. We left
it set all night, and the next morning found in it twenty white-fish.
Leaving camp at an early hour, we gained the entrance of a small stream
that descends between some hills of moderate elevation, and there
stopped to breakfast. I found the white-fish more delicious in flavor,
even than the salmon. We had again to foot it, following the bank of
this little stream. It was a painful task, as we were obliged to open a
path through thick underbrush, in the midst of a rain that lasted all
day and kept us drenched. Two men being left in each canoe, conveyed
them up the river about thirty miles, as far as Long lake--a narrow
pond, on the margin of which we spent the night.
On the 10th, we got through this lakelet, and entered another small
stream, which it was necessary to navigate in the same manner as the
preceding, and which conducted us to Bridge lake. The latter received
its name from a sort of bridge or causeway, formed at its southern
extremity, and which is nothing more than a huge beaver dam. We found
here a lodge, where were a young man and two women, who had charge of
some horses appertaining to one of the Hudson's Bay trading houses. We
borrowed of them half a dozen pack horses, and crossed the bridge with
them. After surmounting a considerable hill, we reached an open, level,
and dry prairie, which conducted us in about two hours to an ancient
trading-post on the banks of the _Saskatchawine_. Knowing that we were
near a factory, we made our toilets as well as we could, before
arriving. Toward sundown, we reached Fort Vermilion, which is situated
on the bank of a river, at the foot of a superb hill.
We found at this post some ninety persons, men, women, and children;
these people depend for subsistence on the chase, and fishing with
hooks and lines, which is very precarious. Mr. Hallet, the clerk in
charge was absent, and we were dismayed to hear that there were no
provisions on the place: a very disagreeable piece of news for people
famished as we were. We had been led to suppose that if we could only
reach the plains of the Saskatchawine, we should be in the land of
plenty. Mr. Hallet, however, was not long in arriving: he had two
quarters of buffalo meat brought out, which had been laid in ice, and
prepared us supper. Mr. Hallet was a polite sociable man, loving his
ease passably well, and desirous of living in these wild countries, as
people do in civilized lands. Having testified to him our surprise at
seeing in one of the buildings a large _cariole_, like those of Canada,
he informed us that having horses, he had had this carriage made in
order to enjoy a sleigh-ride; but that the workmen having forgot to take
the measure of the doors of the building before constructing it, it was
found when finished, much too large for them, and could never be got out
of the room where it was; and it was like to remain there a long time,
as he was not disposed to demolish the house for the pleasure of using
the cariole.
By the side of the factory of the Northwest Company, is another
belonging to the Company of Hudson's Bay. In general these
trading-houses are constructed thus, one close to the other, and
surrounded with a common palisade, with a door of communication in the
interior for mutual succor, in case of attack on the part of the
Indians. The latter, in this region, particularly the Black-feet,
_Gros-ventres_, and those of the Yellow river, are very ferocious: they
live by the chase, but bring few furs to the traders; and the latter
maintain these posts principally to procure themselves provisions.
On the. 11th, after breakfasting at Fort Vermilion, we resumed our
journey, with six or seven pounds of tallow for our whole stock of food.
This slender supply brought us through to the evening of the third day,
when we had for supper two ounces of tallow each.
On the 14th, in the morning, we killed a wild goose, and toward midday,
collected some flag-root and _choux-gras_, a wild herb, which we boiled
with the small game: we did not forget to throw into the pot the little
tallow we had left, and made a delicious repast. Toward the decline of
day, we had the good luck to kill a buffalo.
On the 15th, MM. Clarke and Decoigne having landed during our course, to
hunt, returned presently with the agreeable intelligence that they had
killed three buffaloes. We immediately encamped, and sent the greater
part of the men to cut up the meat and jerk it. This operation lasted
till the next evening, and we set forward again in the canoes on the
17th, with about six hundred pounds of meat half cured. The same evening
we perceived from our camp several herds of buffaloes, but did not give
chase, thinking we had enough meat to take us to the next post.
The river _Saskatchawine_ flows over a bed composed of sand and marl,
which contributes not a little to diminish the purity and transparency
of its waters, which, like those of the Missouri, are turbid and
whitish. Except for that it is one of the prettiest rivers in the world.
The banks are perfectly charming, and offer in many places a scene the
fairest, the most smiling, and the best diversified that can be seen or
imagined: hills in varied forms, crowned with superb groves; valleys
agreeably embrowned, at evening and morning, by the prolonged shadow of
the hills, and of the woods which adorn them; herds of light-limbed
antelopes, and heavy colossal buffalo--the former bounding along the
slopes of the hills, the latter trampling under their heavy feet the
verdure of the plains; all these champaign beauties reflected and
doubled as it were, by the waters of the river; the melodious and varied
song of a thousand birds, perched on the tree-tops; the refreshing
breath of the zephyrs; the serenity of the sky; the purity and salubrity
of the air; all, in a word, pours contentment and joy into the soul of
the enchanted spectator. It is above all in the morning, when the sun is
rising, and in the evening when he is setting, that the spectacle is
really ravishing. I could not detach my regards from that superb
picture, till the nascent obscurity had obliterated its perfection.
Then, to the sweet pleasure that I had tasted, succeeded a _triste_, not
to say, a sombre, melancholy. How comes it to pass, I said to myself,
that so beautiful a country is not inhabited by human creatures? The
songs, the hymns, the prayers, of the laborer and the artisan, shall
they never be heard in these fine plains? Wherefore, while in Europe,
and above all in England, so many thousands of men do not possess as
their own an inch of ground, and cultivate the soil of their
country for proprietors who scarcely leave them whereon to support
existence;--wherefore--do so many millions of acres of apparently fat
and fertile land, remain uncultivated and absolutely useless? Or, at
least, why do they support only herds of wild animals? Will men always
love better to vegetate all their lives on an ungrateful soil, than to
seek afar fertile regions, in order to pass in peace and plenty, at
least the last portion of their days? But I deceive myself; it is not
so easy as one thinks, for the poor man to better his condition: he has
not the means of transporting himself to distant countries, or he has
not those of acquiring a property there; for these untilled lands,
deserted, abandoned, do not appertain to whoever wishes to establish
himself upon them and reduce them to culture; they have owners, and from
these must be purchased the right of rendering them productive! Besides
one ought not to give way to illusions: these countries, at times so
delightful, do not enjoy a perpetual spring; they have their winter, and
a rigorous one; a piercing cold is then spread through the atmosphere;
deep snows cover the surface; the frozen rivers flow only for the fish;
the trees are stripped of their leaves and hung with icicles; the
verdure of the plains has disappeared; the hills and valleys offer but a
uniform whiteness; Nature has lost all her beauty; and man has enough to
do, to shelter himself from the injuries of the inclement season.