_LAKE SUPERIOR TO WINNIPEG._
Lake Superior--Early Discoverers--Joliet and La Salle--Hennepin--
Du Luth--Port Arthur--The Far West--The North-West Company--Rat
Portage--Gold Mining--Winnipeg.
The morning is dull, the sky leaden, and the temperature is not very
enlivening for the most of us. But the boat moves pleasantly up the
slight current until we reach Whitefish Point, then we enter the lake
which lies before us in all its magnificent extent. Some idea of the
size of Lake Superior may be formed when it is pointed out that from
its two extremities the distance is equal to that from London to the
centre of Scotland. In width it is capacious enough to take in the
whole of Ireland. Its surface is 600 feet above, its bed is 300 feet
below, the ocean level, the lake being 900 feet in depth. Its water is
remarkably pure, with the colour of the finest crystal.
We pass a number of steamers and deeply laden vessels. We are now
fairly in the lake, with its rugged, rocky hills on the north shore
ascending to the height of a thousand feet. We are in the midst of
a light fog. The air becomes chilly and raw, but the water continues
smooth, and we sail calmly over it. Towards evening the fog has cleared
away, and we find ourselves in the midst of this immense fresh water
sea. The nearly full moon appears and is high up in view. Our horizon
is the circumference of an unbroken circle, for there is not a trace of
land in sight. Our position is near the meridian of Chicago, although
six degrees of latitude further north; and we approach the longitude of
that great western territory which on both sides of the International
boundary is being developed with such marvellous progress.
Champlain appears to have known the existence of a northern fresh water
lake of great size, but he never visited it. He showed on his map a
large body of water under the title, Mer de Nor Glaciale. This was in
1632. Galinée’s map of 1670 gives the River Ottawa and Lake Ontario
sufficiently correctly for those days, everything considered, but Lake
Michigan was unknown to him. He considered Lakes Michigan and Huron to
be one body of water, and so represented them. Lake Superior he did
not appear to know, although he had reached Sault St. Mary. One of the
earliest works of the Jesuit Fathers in Canada is their map of Lake
Superior, published in 1671, with the title of Lac Tracy-ou-Superior.
It showed that the many bays and inlets had been explored, and the
map is marked by great correctness, allowing for the date of its
production. They also knew of the Peninsula of Michigan. Indeed by
this date the general geography and coast line of the great lakes was
fairly understood. In 1669 La Salle made the first of the series of
discoveries which have preserved his name. He had heard of the great
river to the west, and he was desirous of proceeding thither. He
descended the Ohio, probably as far as Louisville, but it was not until
eleven years later that he discovered the outlet of the Mississippi.
Marquette and Joliet had in the meantime ascended from Green Bay, Lake
Michigan, and followed the Fox River to the Mississippi. They may be
held to be its discoverers, although claims antagonistic to their
priority have been advanced, I believe, without sufficient proof.
Hennepin, the Recollet Friar, was the first to ascend the upper waters
of the Mississippi and describe the Falls of St. Anthony, where the
great milling City of Minneapolis now flourishes. On his return with
his captors, for he was a prisoner of the Indians, he met Du Luth some
distance below the falls. Du Luth was one of those many enterprising
spirits whom France sent to this Continent, a man of untiring energy
and undaunted nature. He penetrated to the then utmost limit known.
He was a martyr to rheumatism, but no suffering interfered with his
discoveries and his devotion to the supremacy of France. At Lake
Superior he had heard that there were white men on the Mississippi.
The news caused him anxiety. His first thought was that English traders
had penetrated from New York, and in the interest of France he felt
such intrusion had summarily to be stopped. He started with four well
armed Frenchmen, followed one of the streams leading southerly and
passed by the St. Croix, which falls into the Mississippi below St.
Paul. It was here that he met Hennepin, who proved to be the white man
he had heard of. Du Luth returned by way of Lake Michigan.
Previous to this date Du Luth had established himself on the
Kaministiquia, Lake Superior. In 1680 he built a fort on the site
of the present Fort William on that river, for half a century the
extreme point beyond which the French did not penetrate, and in itself
the first settlement on the north shore. The Jesuits had established
themselves on the south shore of the lake at an early date in Canadian
history at La Pointe, the modern Bayfield.
It was a brilliant summer morning, Friday, 17th August, when I awoke;
we were near land. Silver Islet was in sight, and Thunder Cape, a bold
headland lit up by the sun, stood forth to bid us welcome. During
breakfast we enter Thunder Bay, a noble expanse of water surrounded
on three sides by lofty hills. The entrance is some six miles wide,
protected to some extent from the storms of Lake Superior by Isle
Royale, some distance to the south. We have fourteen miles to steam
before we reach what was formerly called Prince Arthur’s Landing, now
known as Port Arthur. It has grown up of late years. It possesses an
air of liveliness, and I do not think that those whose interests are
centered in the town underrate the advantages of its situation or have
any doubts with regard to its future. There are copper and silver mines
in the neighbourhood, some of which are represented to be of value.
They have been worked from time to time and discontinued, and their
occasional operations have told on the progress of the town.
But Port Arthur does not possess unchallenged all the advantages
claimed for it. Fort William on the Kaministiquia proffers an equal
claim to become the Lake Superior terminus of the Canadian Pacific
Railway to the west, and to the point of connection with the eastern
bound steamers in summer. A propeller with freight, loaded in the canal
basin at Montreal, can reach Thunder Bay without breaking bulk. A large
movement in freight and passengers for transfer to the railway for
Winnipeg may be looked for, even when the railway line on the north
shore of Lake Superior shall have been completed. A trip by the lake
steamers is pleasant and agreeable in the fine weather of summer, and
doubtless these ports on Thunder Bay will retain their importance.
There is but one train in the twenty-four hours from Port Arthur to
Winnipeg. We were twelve hours too late for the train which had left
and twelve hours too early for the one to leave. All that could be
done was to accept the situation. Human nature, however, asserts its
prerogative under a sense of injustice. My mind, in spite of myself,
reverted to our useless journey to Meaford and Owen Sound, and to the
waste of time at these places by which we lost so many hours at the
Neebish. It was the old story of the nail in the horseshoe of the
Cavalier. I think the experience of all travellers is that when a
journey is marked by delay, little is done in the way of remedying it.
Indifference succeeds the sense of misadventure or carelessness, and
the chance of making up lost time becomes every hour less and less.
I had twelve hours before me, so I determined to make good use of them.
I communicated by telegraph with the railway superintendent at Winnipeg
and the engineer in charge of construction at Calgary, to enlist their
co-operation in our advance over the mountains. I drove with my son
from Port Arthur to the River Kaministiquia, a river which assumed some
importance in the early days of the construction of the railway six
years back. The terminus was established three miles from its mouth.
The river is upwards of three hundred feet in width, deep enough to
float the largest lake craft. A bar, easily removable, extends across
the entrance. When this obstruction is removed the river will be in
all respects accessible, and will extend greater capacity for shipping
than the river at Chicago, which accommodates the enormous business of
that city.
As it was my duty, I visited the Hudson Bay Company’s post near
the mouth of the river. After an existence of two centuries as a
fur-trading station under varied fortunes, it is soon to disappear,
the fate of all such establishments on this continent as civilization
overtakes them. As Bishop Berkeley wrote a century ago, “westward the
star of empire takes its way.”
In my own recollection the “Far West” was on the eastern shores of
Lakes Huron and Michigan, now far within the limits of civilization.
Those whose fortunes were cast there looked on themselves as pioneers
of an unexplored wilderness. Twenty years ago the upper waters of Lake
Huron and Lake Superior were but just coming into notice, and Fort
William was regarded as the chief eastern outpost of the Hudson’s Bay
Company, beyond which few thought of passing. This celebrated company,
which has played such a part in the history of the North-West of this
continent, was formed under a charter of Charles II. in 1670. It was
the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 which fully recognized the English title
to the territory granted under the charter, and abandoned forever such
French claims as had been preferred, for the Treaty of Ryswick with
France in 1696 had left the question of sovereignty undecided.
As early as 1641 two Jesuits, Jogues and Raymbault, extended their
missionary labours to the shores of Lake Superior. The main mission, La
Pointe, now Bayfield, on the south shore, was established in 1670, and
the Indians remained during French rule entirely under their influence.
At the period of the conquest the trade of the French disappeared, for
they had no longer the power to visit the country, and by degrees it
fell into British hands. On the one side, the Hudson’s Bay Company,
from the north, pushed onwards to control it, for a period with
success; on the other, parties were started from Montreal to obtain
a share of the great profits which were made, the value of which was
fully known.
The French trade had been carried on under admirable regulations.
Liquor, so ruinous to the Indian, was withheld from him. The
enterprising Montreal trader introduced it, regardless of consequences:
hence the orgies, the drunkenness and the quarrels which were a scandal
even to the wilderness. To intensify this condition of affairs, some
Montreal merchants entered into a partnership in 1787, and formed
the celebrated North-West Trading Company. It then consisted of
twenty-three partners, with a staff of agents, factors, clerks, guides,
interpreters, voyageurs, amounting in all to two thousand persons.
If the individual trader disappeared from the field, there were two
powerful companies remaining, who had to operate in the same field side
by side, and there sprang up the fiercest and most embittered rivalry.
I shall hereafter refer more definitely to this contention. This state
of things was leading to the common ruin of the two companies, when, in
1821, after forty-three years of competition, discord and disaster, the
two formed one corporation under the title of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
As I looked upon the old fort on the site of its departed greatness, I
thought of the many stirring scenes which it witnessed before and after
the beginning of this century. The stone store houses, once so well
filled with every requirement, erected around the sides of a square,
are now empty, containing a few boxes of rusty flint muskets and
bayonets, with chests of old papers, dating back, some of them, more
than a hundred years.
The buildings will all soon be unroofed, to make way for a railway
station. A year ago I saw two old cannon in the front of the courtyard.
On that occasion I believe they fired their last salute. They are now
removed. The old rickety flagstaff still remains, and so soon as it
is known that a member of the Company of Adventurers is within the
precincts the flag is run up as a salute, a service probably for the
last time performed at Fort William. In a few months the whole scene
will be changed. There is still an agent of the Hudson’s Bay Company
in charge, Mr. Richardson, whose complexion of bronze tells of many
years of exposure; and his attendant, an Indian, who has been attached
to the fort for forty years.
On leaving Mr. Richardson we called on a retired Hudson’s Bay officer,
Mr. John McIntyre, who lives in a comfortable house a little further up
the river. He is an Argyleshire Highlander, who has the stalwartness of
his race, and is as active as ever. At his suggestion we go to Point
de Meuron, named after the soldiers of that regiment in Lord Selkirk’s
service, camped here in the memorable days of 1817. There was nothing
to be seen but the farm, so we returned to the town plot, and, as the
hour suggested, took dinner at the Ontario House, a place of some local
reputation. There were several vessels from Ohio discharging coal at
the railway wharves adjoining, showing that even the narrow cut dredged
some years ago across the bar at the mouth of the river was still
sufficient to admit their passage; establishing, moreover, how easily a
properly excavated channel can be maintained, and plainly showing that
the completion of navigation at the entrance of the Kaministiquia will
eventually have an important bearing on the commerce of the North-West.
I returned to Port Arthur to prepare for the train, when some of my
friends kindly gave me an invitation to a ball to take place in the
evening. I should have liked to have accepted it for several reasons,
not the least of which was to see that phase of social life in this
region; but it was impossible to lose the twenty-four hours, the price
of my attendance.
It was dark when the train left, so all that could be done was to turn
to the comfortable Pullman, and in due time retire for the night. The
railway to Winnipeg is far from being completed; indeed, it has but
lately been put in operation. Many of the station buildings have yet to
be erected. As a consequence, the following morning the breakfast was
served under a large canvas awning. There was no pretension about this
breakfast, but what there was of it was good; certainly the ventilation
was perfect.
The distance from Port Arthur to Winnipeg is some 430 miles, and,
as the unfinished condition of a considerable portion of the line
necessitated travelling at reduced speed, the journey to most of
the passengers seemed very tedious. To me every mile was full of
interest. We pass over that portion of the line known as “Section A,”
which extends to a point 230 miles from Port Arthur. Civilization
and settlement have not penetrated to this district, lying, as it
does, intermediate between Lake Superior and the prairie region. We
have traversed a long stretch of black, boggy swamp, to which the
Indian name of Muskeg has been given. One is reminded of Chatmoss,
where similar difficulties in the infancy of railway construction
were so triumphantly met by the elder Stephenson. Muskeg is much of
the character of peat. It is here inexhaustible, and hereafter may be
valuable from its capacity to be formed into fuel.
As the train moves on, nothing is to be seen but rock and forest in
their most rugged forms. The falls of Waubigon and those of Eagle
River, as we pass them, are the more striking by the contrast they
present. We reach the far-famed “Section B,” of which we have heard so
much, and which is still a theme of such varied comment by politicians
and newspaper writers. This section of railway passes through a country
rugged in the extreme. The surface is a succession of rocky ridges,
with tortuous lakes and deep muskegs intervening. The line has been
carried across these depressions on temporary staging, and steam
shovels and construction trains are busy converting the miles of frail
looking trestlework into solid embankment. Our train moves slowly over
this portion of the line; indeed, until this work is further advanced
it would be hazardous to adopt a high rate of speed. Eagle Lake, with
the numerous lakelets which we see from the railway, are sheets of
water with beauty enough to command attention. A few rude graves on the
hillside mark the violent death of the poor workmen who suffered from
the careless handling of that dangerous explosive, nitro-glycerine.
Although the most effective of instruments in the removal of rock, the
least want of caution and care often exacts the most terrible penalty.
In the fifty miles we have passed over, upwards of thirty poor fellows
have lost their lives by its use. This explosive may be used with
perfect safety, but in its handling it exacts prudence and attention to
details; otherwise there will be no immunity from want of care. With
the reckless and negligent it is a constant source of danger.
There is no great area of land suitable for profitable farming
in this district. A few good townships may be laid out, but the
country generally through which the railway runs is not adapted for
agricultural purposes. Every acre of soil, however, is covered with
timber of more or less value. Care should be taken to prevent the
destruction of these forests. Stringent regulations should be made with
regard to them, and no reckless waste permitted. In a few years these
forests will prove sources of considerable wealth, and the ground over
which we are now passing should be jealously guarded as a preserve for
the supply of timber in coming years.
The passengers begin to be clamorous for the next refreshment station.
We learn that it is at Rat Portage. We trust that the name does not
suggest the cheer we are to receive. There is an old tradition that the
Chinaman delighted in that rodent, and we all have read that during
the siege of Paris it was an established article of food. Rat Portage
is beginning to be an important place. It is situated where the waters
of the Lake of the Woods fall into the River Winnipeg. Four large saw
mills have been constructed here, and immense quantities of lumber have
been despatched to Winnipeg and the country beyond. At present Rat
Portage is the watering place for the City of Winnipeg. Gold mining has
been commenced, but it is a pursuit on which but little calculation can
be made.
For the moment there is excitement in the district, and many explorers
are engaged in examining the rocky ledges which crop out on the shore
and are exposed on the innumerable islands of the Lake of the Woods. It
is to be seen if this is a passing spasm or an assured success. When
some instance of individual good fortune in gold mining becomes known,
crowds for a time push forward eagerly, many desperately, on the path
which they impulsively trust is to lead them at once to fortune. Such
hopes are often built on imperfect foundations. The slightest reverse
depresses the sanguine gold-hunter, and the pursuit is most often
abandoned with the recklessness with which it was undertaken. How many
may with bitterness repeat the well known words of my countryman, John
Leyden, in his ode to an Indian gold coin:
“Slave of the mine, thy yellow light
Gleams baleful on the tomb fire drear.”
When the train came to a stand the proverbial rush for dinner was made.
No regular refreshment room could be found. In fact, none had yet
been erected. But there were several temporary shanties built around,
whose merits were loudly proclaimed by the several touts in a great
many words and the ringing of bells. We had made the acquaintance of
some New Zealand travellers on their way to see two sons settled in
Manitoba, and we agreed to take our dinner together. We selected one
of these establishments. Our recollections of Rat Portage are not
impressed by any excellence in its commissariat. That which was set
before us was execrable. I am not difficult to please, but there is
a lower depth in these matters. Such a meal would scarcely have been
palatable during the hunger of the siege of Paris, and a man could only
have swallowed what was given at Rat Portage when suffering the pangs
of starvation. There is evidently a call for improvement at this place
before the line is fully opened to travellers.
Leaving Rat Portage, we pass to what is known as “Section Fifteen.” It
is nearly forty miles in length, and, like “Section B,” runs through a
district remarkable for its rugged aspect. For a long distance west of
Rat Portage the country is much the same in character as the Lake of
the Woods: full of rocky, tree-covered ridges and islets, the former
a labyrinth of deep, narrow, winding sheets of water, separated by
tortuous granite bluffs. If the lake has within its limits hundreds of
islands, the land embraces innumerable lakelets. It was this rugged and
broken country, so repelling in its condition in the wilderness, which
dictated the opinion of a quarter of a century back of high authorities
that the country between Lake Superior and Red River was not
practicable for railway construction. The difficulties have, however,
been grappled with and overcome, necessarily with great labour and
great cost; and, as I was passing over it, it struck my mind as no bad
example of the danger of positively asserting a negative. The necessary
work of placing the trestlework in good condition on “Section Fifteen”
is more advanced than on “Section B.” The train, therefore, runs at a
higher rate of speed. As we proceed we can observe that the roadbed is
fairly well ballasted, and we run at about thirty miles an hour on the
finished portion of the line, over the gigantic earthworks of Cross
Lake, Lake Deception and the succeeding lakes.
The distance from Lake Superior to the Red River at Selkirk is 410
miles, and notwithstanding the extreme roughness of the country through
which it passes, the railway, when completed, will bear comparison with
any other line on this Continent. The utmost care has been exercised
to establish gradients favourable to cheap transportation. In this
respect I know of no other four hundred miles of railway in the
Dominion or in the United States that can be compared with the section
west of Port Arthur.
We leave “Section 15” and the rugged country behind us, and enter on
the prairie land of the West. We pass Selkirk, which once promised to
be a centre of importance, but the City of Winnipeg, twenty miles to
the south of it, has grown up, is rapidly increasing, and asserting its
claim to be the first city in the North-West. As we proceed the sky
becomes darkened and we are overtaken by a thunderstorm, during which
the rain falls in as heavy masses of water as it has ever been my fate
to see. The wind increases to a hurricane, but art triumphs over the
elements. As the train continues its course on the well ballasted road,
at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, the passengers generally
seemed scarcely aware of the tempest raging outside. An unusual
phenomenon is presented: we pass through an electrical snowstorm,
which, in a few minutes, whitens the ground over a stretch of a mile.
Hail storms are in no way uncommon when the conditions of the air are
disturbed, but I have never before witnessed a snowstorm under similar
circumstances.
We reach the station at Winnipeg, having been twenty-four hours on
our journey. A few years ago the distance from Lake Superior to this
point, by the old canoe route, exacted twelve or fourteen days. When
the railway is in complete working order the journey may be performed
in fourteen hours. On my arrival at the station the night was black and
forbidding, for the rain continued to fall in torrents. Nevertheless
several old friends were there to extend me a welcome and the offer
of a temporary home. Among others I grasped the hand of Dr. Grant,
of Queen’s College, who again is to be my companion to the Pacific
Coast. Before leaving the station I made definite arrangements with the
railway officials to leave in thirty-six hours for Calgary. We groped
our way through the wind and rain to profit by the hospitality so
kindly offered, and I was not sorry to find myself again under a roof
with the best of good cheer before me.