Resources Of Lesser Slave Lake Region.
It was expected that the sergeant of the Mounted Police stationed
at the Lake would have set out by boat on the 3rd for Athabasca
Landing, taking with him the witnesses in the Weeghteko case--a
case not common amongst the Lesser Slave Lake Indians, but which
was said to be on the increase. One Pahaýo--"The Pheasant"--had
gone mad and threatened to kill and eat people. Of course, this
was attributed by his tribe to the Weeghteko, by which he was
believed to be possessed, a cannibal spirit who inhabits the
human heart in the form of a lump of ice, which must be got rid
of by immersion of the victim in boiling water, or by pouring
boiling fat down his throat. This failing, they destroy the man-eater,
rip him up to let out the evil spirit, cut off his head, and then
pin his four quarters to the ground, all of which was done by his
tribe in the case of Pahaýo. Napesósus--"The Little Man"--struck
the first blow, Moośtoos followed, and the poor lunatic was soon
dispatched. Arrests were ultimately made, and a boatload of
witnesses was about to leave for Athabasca Landing, _en route_ to
attend the trial at Edmonton, the first of its kind, I think,
on record.
There can be no doubt that such slayings are effected to safeguard
the tribe. Indians have no asylums, and, in order to get a dangerous
lunatic out of the way, can only kill him. There would therefore be
no hangings. But, now that the Indians and ourselves were coming
under treaty obligations, it was necessary that an end should be
put to such proceedings.
Yet the reader must not be too severe upon the Indian for his
treatment of the Weeghteko. He attributes the disease to the evil
spirit, acts accordingly, and slays the victim. But an old author,
Mrs. Jameson, tells us that in her day in Upper Canada lunatics were
allowed to stray into the forest to roam uncared for, and perish
there, or were thrust into common jails. One at Niagara, she says,
was chained up for four years.
Aside from such cases of madness, which have often resulted in the
killing and eating of children, etc., and which arouse the most
superstitious horror in the minds of all Indians, the "savages" of
this region are the most inoffensive imaginable. They have always
made a good living by hunting and trapping and fishing, and I believe
when the time comes they will adapt themselves much more readily and
intelligently to farming and stock-raising than did the Indians to
the south. The region is well suited to both industries, and will
undoubtedly attract white settlers in due time.
The fisheries in Lesser Slave Lake have always been counted the best
in all Athabasca. The whitefish, to be sure, are diminishing towards
the head of the lake, but it is possible that this is owing to some
deficiency in their usual supply of food in that quarter. Just as
birds and wild-fowl return, if not disturbed, to their accustomed
breeding-places, so, it is said, the fishes, year by year, drop and
impregnate their spawn upon the same gravelly shallows. The food of
the whitefish in the lake is partly the worms bred from the eggs of
a large fly resembling the May-fly of the East. This worm has probably
decreased in the upper part of the lake, and therefore the fish go
farther down for food. There they are exceedingly numerous, an
evidence of which is the fact that the Roman Catholic Mission alone
secured 17,000 fine whitefish the previous fall. Properly protected
this lake will be a permanent source of supply to natives and incomers
for many years to come.
Stock-raising was already becoming a feature of the region. Some
three miles above the Heart River is Buffalo Lake, an enlargement
of that stream, and around and above this, as also along the
Wyaweekamon, or "Passage between the Lakes," are immense hay
meadows, capable of winter feeding thousands of cattle. The view
of these vast meadows from the Hudson's Bay post, or from the
Roman Catholic Mission close by, is magnificent.
These buildings are situated above Buffalo Lake, upon a lofty
bank, with the Heart River in the foreground; and the great
meadows, threaded by creeks and inlets, stretching for miles
to the south of them, are one of the finest sights of the kind
in the country.
In the far south was the line of forest, and to the eastward a
flat-topped mountain, called by the Crees Waskahékum Kahassástakee--
"The House Butte." Near this mountain is the Swan River, which joins
the Lesser Slave Lake below the Narrows, and upon which, we were
told, were rich and extensive prairies, and abundance of coal of a
good quality. To the west were the prairies of the Salt River, well
watered by creeks, with a large extent of good land now being settled
on, and where wheat ripens perfectly.
There are other available areas of open country on Prairie River,
which enters Buffalo Lake at its south-western end, and on which
also there is coal, so that prairie land is not entirely lacking.
Though emphatically _now_ a region of forest, there is reason to
believe that vast areas at present under timber were once prairies,
fed over by innumerable herds of buffalo, whose paths and wallows
can still be traced in the woods. Indeed, very large trees are
found growing right across those paths, and this fact, not to speak
of the recollections, or traditions, of very old people, points to
extensive prairies at one time rather than to an entirely wooded
country.
Much of the forest soil is excellent, and the land has only to
be cleared to furnish good farms. Indeed, it needs no stretch of
imagination to foresee in future years a continuous line of them
from Edmonton to the lake, along the three hundred miles of country
intersected by the trail laid out by the Territorial Government.
As for the wheat problem, it is not at all likely that the Roman
Catholic Mission would put up a flour mill, as they were then doing,
if it was not a wheat country. Bishop Clût assured me that potatoes
in their garden reached three and a half pounds' weight in some
instances, and turnips twenty-five pounds.
The kind people of both this and the Church of England Mission
generously supplied our table with vegetables and salads, and we
craved no better. Chives, lettuce, radishes, cress and onions
were full flavoured, fresh and delicious, and quite as early
as in Manitoba. Being a timber country, lumber was, of course,
plentiful, there being two sawmills at work cutting lumber,
which sold, undressed, at $25 to $30 a thousand.
The whole country has a fresh and attractive look, and one could
not desire a finer location than can be had almost anywhere
along its streams and within its delightful and healthy borders.
And yet this region is but a portal to the vaster one beyond, to
the Unjigah, the mighty Peace River, to be described hereafter.
The make-weight against settlement may be almost summed up in the
words transport and markets. The country is there, and far beyond
it, too; but so long as there is abundance of prairie land to the
south, and no railway facilities, it would be unwise for any large
body of settlers, especially with limited means, to venture so far.
The small local demand for beef and grain might soon be overtaken,
and though stock can be driven, yet three hundred miles of forest
trail is a long way to drive. Still, pioneers take little thought
of such conditions, and already they were dropping in in twos and
threes as they used to do in the old days in Red River Settlement,
lured by the wilderness perhaps to privation, but entering a
country much of which is suited by nature for the support of man.
The best reflection is that there is a really good country to
fall back upon when the prairies to the south are taken up.
Swamps and muskegs abound, but good land also abounds, and the
time will come when the ring of the Canadian axe will be heard
throughout these forests, and when multitudes of comfortable
homes will be hewn out of what are the almost inaccessible
wildernesses of to-day.
By the end of the first week in July the issue of scrip certificates
began to fall off, though the declarations were still numerous.
But land was in sight; that is to say, our release and departure
for Peace River, which we were all very anxious, in fact burning,
to see.
By this time there was, of course, much money afloat amongst the
people, which was rapidly finding its way into the traders'
pockets. There was a "blind pig," too, doing business in the
locality, though we could not discover where, as everybody
professed entire ignorance of anything of the kind. The fragrant
breath and hilarity of so many, however, betrayed its existence,
and, as a crowning evidence, before sunrise on the 6th, we were
all awakened by an uproarious row amongst a tipsy crowd on the
common.
The disturbance, of course, awakened the dogs, if, indeed, those
wonderful creatures ever slept, and soon a prolonged howl,
issuing from a thousand throats, made the racket complete. It
seemed to our listening ears, for we stuck to our beds, to be
a promiscuous fight, larded with imprecations in broken English,
the phrase "goddam" being repeated in the most comical way. We
expected to see a lot of badly bruised men in the morning, but
nothing of the kind! Nobody was hurt. It proved to be a very
bloodless affair, like the scrimmages of the dogs themselves,
full of sound and fury signifying nothing.