More About the Slave River : On Steamer _Wrigley_ : Fine Gardens
at Resolution : A Nasty Experience : Bishop Reeves Comes Aboard
for a Round Trip : Miss Wilgriss Leaves : Hay River : Fort
Prudence : The Little Lake : Fort Simpson : A Pathetic Incident :
An Imaginary Cabinet : We Reach Fort Wrigley.
The cargo having all been carted over the portage and loaded on the
_Wrigley_ and her consorts, we left Fort Smith at 3.15 P.M., Mountain
or Pacific time, on this last stage of our journey to Fort McPherson,
in round numbers, 1300 miles distant. The day was cloudy and quite
cool. We were at last clear of all obstructions to navigation.
Throughout the whole remaining distance there would also be very little
darkness, and the steamer was to run both night and day. The country
becomes more level than above the rapids. The banks at first thirty or
forty feet high become gradually lower with the descent of the river,
and the soil reveals a rich alluvial deposit, similar in appearance
to that of the Western prairies. We passed Salt River at 5.30 P.M. and
Bell Rock a little after, and later Gravel Point, where we saw the last
gravel to be met with on these waters.
_Thursday, July 12._ The boat ran all night and at 8.30 A.M. we were
well down the river, being opposite McConnell Island. After leaving
Fort Smith the river expands to probably an average width of a mile and
a half, in some places much more, with numerous islands on the way.
As it widens out the current decreases and the soil held in solution
yields to the law of gravity and is deposited, forming numerous islands
all the way to the lake. The earth, that once rested securely along
the present course of “the Peace” before the waters from the mountains
found their way in that direction and commenced that great excavation,
is here found in these islands, and the newly formed land that is
pushing the southern shore line of Great Slave Lake near the mouth of
this river, farther and farther north. How applicable to this situation
are the words of Tennyson:
[Illustration: LEAVING FORT SMITH ON THE SLAVE RIVER]
“_The sound of streams that swift or slow
Draw down Æonian hills, and sow
The dust of continents to be._”
The land falls gradually away till it is submerged. Islands innumerable
have been formed while others in embryo exist in the sand bars
extending for long distances in the neighbourhood of the channel. It
was difficult to follow the outlet and we grounded several times after
we were well into the lake. However, by appliances peculiar to such
navigation, we finally got into deep water, and an hour’s run brought
us to a fine bay on the shore of which we beheld another whitewashed
village with a hundred or more Indian lodges in the foreground. This
was Fort Resolution, and the lodges were the temporary habitations of
the Chippewyan and Slavey Indians, who were assembled here for the
payment of “treaty,” as they call it, that is to say, the Federal
Government’s grant to Indian tribes. It was late in the afternoon when
we entered the lake. We lost two or three hours on the sand bars and
another in putting on wood, so that when we went ashore at Resolution,
it was near eleven o’clock at night. I remember thinking that we would
have to make our journey short so as to get back before dark; but what
with a visit to the tent of Indian Commissioner Conroy and Dr. West,
and the exchange of information from outside which we possessed, for
that of the interior which they could furnish, and with a visit to the
Indian camps, I was astonished to find that we had passed from one
day into another without having experienced any intervening night. A
dull twilight was giving way to a bright dawn as we went aboard our
ship after midnight. This was the beginning of constant daylight, that
remained with us for several weeks.
I noticed some very well cultivated gardens at Resolution, containing
most of the vegetables we would find in the gardens of Eastern
Canada--potatoes, turnips, peas, cabbage, beets, etc. The potatoes were
particularly good, and so far advanced that by August 1 they would
certainly be fit for use. There were no evidences either that the
“potato bug” had yet visited this district.
[Illustration:
_Copyright Ernest Brown_
FORT RESOLUTION ON GREAT SLAVE LAKE]
We had before us, between here and Hay River, a large sheet of open
water of over seventy miles to traverse, and delays are frequently
experienced here, especially when a steamer has, as in our case,
several heavily-laden scows in tow.
We left Resolution at 2 o’clock on the morning of July 13, but had soon
to seek shelter under an island and wait for the sea to subside, which
it did sufficiently to allow us to start again about 4 P.M., but for
several hours it seemed doubtful if one of the scows which was leaking
badly could be kept afloat till we should reach Hay River, and we were
glad to find when we arose in the morning that the crew of the leaky
craft had been rewarded for their toil. She was among the other boats
lying along the bank, and without showing much damage either to the
scow itself or to the cargo. The latter was much the more important,
as it contained food and other necessities brought such long distances
and at such great expense, and besides there were anxious men, women,
and children in far outlying posts in this great wilderness, whose very
existence depended on supplies reaching them in good condition.
Awakening early in the morning and before the crew or inhabitants of
the village had risen, I walked up the bank of the river, and finding
a sandy beach was soon enjoying a bath. While engaged in this luxury,
I noticed that I had attracted the attention of half a dozen rather
large-sized and very hungry-looking husky dogs, that came rushing down
the bank barking furiously, evidently thinking me a legitimate object
of prey. In the whole course of my journey this is the only instance
where I was the subject of an attack of any kind, and I must confess
I felt greatly alarmed as I realised my situation, and cannot help
thinking that had it not been for some Indians, the owners of the dogs,
suddenly appearing in a canoe around a point in the river, paddling
quickly to my rescue, the consequences might have been serious. The
hungry creatures probably thought I was some animal from the forest who
was trying to escape them by swimming the river.
Bishop Reeve, of the Anglican Diocese of the Mackenzie River, came
aboard at Hay River for a round trip to McPherson and return, and Miss
Wilgriss left us to resume her position at the Mission here. We were
all impressed with the zeal of this lady in her work, which is
certainly one of self-sacrificing devotion to a great cause.
[Illustration:
_Copyright Ernest Brown, Edmonton_
DOG-RIBBED INDIANS ON GREAT SLAVE LAKE]
Hay River is a stream of considerable size which enters Great Slave
Lake from the west at a distance of some forty miles south of the
entrance to the Mackenzie.
The morning was fine. The wind had subsided, and the great lake, which
serves as a filtering basin for the turbid waters entering it from the
Slave River, was here as clear as that of the great inland lakes of
Eastern Canada--Huron, Erie or Ontario. Wherever a river contains muddy
water, you may at once conclude that it has no large lake expansions
above it. In nearly every stream pouring its waters into the great
clear water lakes of the St. Lawrence basin the water is dark and more
or less impure; very different both in quality and appearance from that
which it assumes after having had a little time to settle. This is, of
course, due to the process of precipitation which the river currents
have previously prevented. The Saskatchewan, the Missouri and the
Mississippi are streams whose waters are similar in appearance to that
of the “Yellow Tiber” at Rome. So, also, are those of the Columbia and
the Fraser of the Pacific slope, and in each case you will search in
vain for any large lake expansions in their courses.
A few hours’ run brought us to a bay with many islands, which gradually
contracted to a width of two or three miles and we now had entered the
great river, the Mackenzie, into which all the waters we had traversed
flow. No more delays were now anticipated, no lakes to cross, no rapids
to encounter, and no darkness to delay us on our course for the rest of
our journey, a thousand miles in all, to the delta of the Mackenzie.
Great Slave Lake impresses the visitor by its size, which approximates
to that of the great lakes of Eastern Canada. For some time we were
entirely out of sight of land. There is a bar at the mouth of the river
which our steamer struck once or twice as she also did in two or three
other places farther down.
After passing what might be called the entrance, the river widens out
into expansions which deserve and receive the distinction of lakes.
Islands covered with green timber are numerous, and the appearance
is suggestive of the lower St. Lawrence. We had some difficulty in
following the channel at the mouth of one of these expansions, named
Beaver Lake, where we grounded twice on a soft bottom. This did no
damage to the steamer but caused us several hours’ delay.
The blowing of the whistle of the _Wrigley_ early on Sunday morning of
July 15 announced that we were approaching Fort Providence, and as the
boat rounded an island in the river, exclamations of astonishment at
the beauty of the picture that lay before us were heard on every hand.
There on the right bank of the river, its waters as clear as those of
the St. Lawrence, lay a village, so strikingly similar in appearance
to those along that familiar stream that we could almost forget the
long distances we had journeyed and fancy ourselves approaching one
of the parishes of old Quebec. The church bells were ringing out a
call to the Sunday morning service. The convent hard by was decorated
with flags betokening some joyful occasion, while the Indian pupils in
their pretty costumes accompanied by their teachers, the sisters of the
Mission, lined the bank to welcome the founder of the school, Sister
Ward, of Montreal, who had accompanied us this far.
This devoted woman first went into the country upwards of forty years
ago, where she became instrumental in organising this and several other
schools during a residence there of more than thirty years. She was at
this time making a visit of inspection to them, intending to return
before the season closed, to the home of her novitiate, the Convent of
the Grey Nuns of Montreal.
The banks of the river here are about thirty feet high. The land is
level and the soil a rich clay loam, and this is the general character
of the soil along the whole of this great river. In the Mission garden
here were found at this time peas fit for use, potatoes in blossom,
tomatoes, rhubarb, beets, cabbages, onions, in fact about the same type
of kitchen garden as would be seen a thousand miles farther south.
Besides the vegetables, were cultivated flowers and also fruit such as
red currants, gooseberries, strawberries, raspberries and saskatoons,
and more surprising still, near by, was a small field of wheat in the
milk, the grain being fully formed, the seed of which had been sown
on May 20. I was anxious to know whether this grain would ripen, and
was fortunate enough to learn later from one of the passengers, who,
returning by the _Wrigley_, visited this field again on July 28, that
it had been harvested before the latter date, probably about two months
after the sowing. This seems almost incredible to those who live in
lower latitudes, but when we remember that during this whole period the
earth had been subjected to almost constant sunlight and heat, coupled
with constant moisture from the frozen ground beneath, the reason for
its rapid, hot house growth is obvious.
[Illustration: FORT PROVIDENCE ON THE MACKENZIE RIVER]
Leaving Fort Providence at 10.40 A.M. we soon entered “The Little
Lake,” one of the numerous expansions of the Upper Mackenzie, and at
10 P.M. reached a point known as “The End of the Line,” so named from
being the place where the boatmen coming up the river could dispense
with the tracking line. As the river widens above this point, the
current decreases so that boats and canoes can be propelled without
outside assistance, while below here till the river widens again near
its mouth, a distance of over 800 miles, the current is too strong for
the general use of oar or paddle, and the line is necessary for the
greater part of the distance. With no interruption from rapids or delay
from darkness and assisted by the current, we reached Fort Simpson on
the following morning at seven o’clock, the run from Providence, 161
miles distant, having been made in about twenty hours.
Fort Simpson is 1078 miles distant by the route we had taken from
Athabaska Landing or 1175 miles from Edmonton. The latitude is 61°
52´ N.; in other words it is 900 miles due north of the international
boundary. It is prettily situated on the left bank of the Mackenzie
just below the mouth of the Liard. Evidently the waters of the latter
stream have no filtering basin such as the Mackenzie has in Great Slave
Lake, for instead of the clear waters through which we have passed
so far on the Mackenzie, we see this great tributary coming from the
west carrying down a segregated mixture of water and yellow soil which
perceptibly changes the colour of the Mackenzie from here all the way
to its mouth. We saw no more the clear sparkling waters of a greenish
blue, so similar to that of the ocean, that had been before our eyes
for the last 300 miles. The banks of the river at Fort Simpson are
about thirty feet high and the stream here must be at least two miles
wide.
Though the hour of our arrival was early, the bank was lined with
the men, women and children of the village, all apparently delighted
to see again the return of the _Wrigley_. Among others I noticed a
well-dressed white man hurrying down from the Hudson Bay Company’s
store, evidently looking for some one among the passengers. Though I
had never seen him before, I at once surmised that this was Charlie
Christie, whose wife was buried at Edmonton a few days before our
departure. During the whole of our journey the thought of the message
we were carrying to the expectant husband was ever with us, and the
nearer we approached his home, the sadder seemed this message. How the
information was to be broken to him had been talked over many times,
but with his hurried steps up the gang plank and eager inquiry if his
wife were aboard, evidently disappointed at not seeing her among the
passengers, all plans were forgotten and the answer to his inquiry was
in a few words which, though uttered in a sympathetic tone, went like
a bullet to the heart of the poor man who had waited through the long
months of the former autumn, winter and spring for the return of the
mother of his children. Such is one of the tragic phases of life in
this wilderness.
I have mentioned that Fort Simpson is about 900 miles in a due course
north of the international boundary, and I repeat it in connection
with the fact that the great staple of our north-west possessions is
grown here, to a sufficient extent to show that we may, in calculating
the width of the wheat zone, reckon it at least that width from north
to south. I do not of course mean that all the land lying between the
forty-ninth parallel and this latitude should be considered arable,
but it is something to know that the climatic conditions up to this
latitude are not too severe for the production of this cereal.
The soil resembles that at Fort Providence and the vegetable gardens
are similar to those seen there. The increased sunlight of the summer
months as we proceed north counterbalances the disadvantages of the
higher latitude. This, however, does not continue indefinitely. Even
at points far south of Simpson the frost never leaves the ground at
certain depths and this depth decreases till it approaches so near the
surface in the far north as to prevent the ripening of either cereals
or vegetables.
Fort Simpson has been regarded for many years as the most noted of the
H.B. Company’s posts in the north, and, though it has now, I believe,
lost some of its importance, it is still a centre of trade for a wide
district of country.
It was here that the supplies were distributed, not only to the
outlying posts farther down the river, but also to those up the Liard
and to numerous inland stations. From here, too, the “Coureurs Du Bois”
or “Trippers” were sent out in winter to the Indian hunting grounds,
carrying with them by dog trains, ammunition and blankets and bringing
back the furs of the country.
It is the last point visited on the journey northward, containing the
vestiges of modern civilised life. The village, which probably contains
300 or 400 inhabitants, can boast of a system of electric lighting,
a needless luxury for a considerable part of the year when there is
scarcely any darkness, but later when the sun declines so low in the
heavens as almost to refuse to dispel the darkness even at noonday,
it serves to somewhat lessen the gloom of the long winter night. It
is perhaps unnecessary to say that the plant was installed by “The
Company.” They have also established a museum here, containing stuffed
exhibits of the animals and birds of the country. That of the latter
is well arranged, and I presume gives a good representation of the
feathered tribe of this north region. Of the former, scarcely as much
can be said, though I remember among them a black bear that was very
creditably set up. In the “Big House,” in other words, the Agent’s
residence, we also found the unusual luxury of a small billiard table,
which it must have cost a goodly sum to transport so far.
The principal buildings in this sub-Arctic “metropolis” are, of course,
those of “The Company,” and the second those connected with the
Anglican Mission. The latter consist of a good dwelling, occupied by
the Rector of the parish, and which also serves as a schoolroom, while
near by is the chapel, a very pretty edifice and creditable to the
enterprise of those who erected it in this far away place.
The buildings of the village are of logs, the better ones being sided
up with lumber and whitewashed. Much of this lumber I was informed had
been cut with a whip saw, though a small mill was in operation for a
time. I saw at Simpson some of the finest porcupine quill work that is
made anywhere in the country, the women of one tribe of this region
being famed as experts in this work.
We found the timber, since crossing Great Slave Lake, somewhat smaller
in size, though lumber cut here and used in the buildings at Simpson
is some twelve inches wide, but this is exceptional. One cannot but be
struck with the vast quantities of spruce along the route that is a
little under size for lumber, but which would make excellent pulp wood.
The drift wood coming down the Liard is similar to that from the Peace,
and indicates timber of a larger size farther up the stream than is
found growing at its mouth.
Since leaving Fort Smith, we had been traversing territory beyond the
north limit of the Province of Alberta. The sixtieth degree of latitude
forms the north boundary of that Province and it is supposed to pass
very near Fort Smith.
To wile away the weary hours, some one conceived the idea of forming
a provisional government for this unorganised territory. Mr. Thos.
Anderson, the Company’s Superintendent for this district who was with
us, was, by popular acclaim, made Lieutenant-Governor. He immediately
selected his cabinet from among those on board the _Wrigley_. The
pilot, a very worthy Cree Indian, was chosen as Minister of Marine,
while a countryman of his, who was of a somewhat martial appearance,
was made Minister of War: the tall lank white man, before referred to
as the counterpart of Abraham Lincoln in his rail-splitting days, was
called to the high office of Minister of Justice. The latter had his
blankets tied up with a long rope and His Honour gave as one reason
for his selecting Mr. Leigh (for such was his name) to be that he
carried with him the very article which has served to enforce British
justice the world over.
[Illustration: BISHOP REEVE, STEFANSSON AND RESIDENT CLERGYMAN AT
SIMPSON]
After subscribing to a declaration in which allegiance to “The Company”
(not the King) was the principal article, a cabinet council was held.
Numerous grievances under which this fair portion of Canada had long
suffered were discussed. All were of one mind regarding the existence
of these disabilities, but there was a wide divergence of opinion as to
how they were to be remedied. However, on one subject there was entire
unanimity.
Those who travelled in what were known as the North-West Territories
before the Provinces of Saskatchewan and Alberta were organised, will
remember that intoxicating beverages were prohibited by the laws of
the Dominion. This “tyrannical rule” obtains even at the present day
in this Mackenzie District, and we soon realised that even if the
cabinet had not been personally favourable to the free importation
of this essential article, it would have been impossible for them to
command the confidence of the people unless they passed an ordinance
abolishing this legislation. This was at once done, and received the
immediate assent of the Lieutenant-Governor.
This bit of pleasantry was continued for some time, till it began to
seem almost real, and in some measure to resemble the initial stages of
the uprising many years before of Riel on the banks of the Red River.
The Indian is not incapable of a kind of dry humour, but, at the same
time, he does not always discern whether you are in earnest or merely
jesting, and the result was that the Lieutenant-Governor, in the name
of the Company, dismissed all his Ministers and resumed the intelligent
autocratic control, which he had long exercised over the country.
A CHANGE OF SCENERY
After remaining about twenty-four hours at Simpson, we resumed our
journey at five o’clock in the morning, and at nine caught the first
sight of the Rocky Mountains (Nahanni Range) with their snow-capped
peaks, which attain a height of 5000 ft. above sea level. This change
of scenery was welcomed after six weeks of travel through a vast
wilderness of comparatively level land.
The weather had continued quite hot, with only an exception of a day
or two, from our start, but whether from the effect of the mountains
or not, we experienced a very decided change in the temperature
immediately we reached their vicinity, and from this on we suffered no
more from the excessive heat, which had been as unpleasant as it was
unexpected. We had counted on escaping the usual July heat, but for
the greater part it had really been more oppressive and certainly more
constant, extending right through the long twenty-four-hour day, than I
had ever before experienced.
It strikes the observer as extraordinary that the Mackenzie in its way
to the sea from Great Slave Lake should bear off to the west, so far
as to necessitate its cutting its way between two ranges of the Rocky
Mountains, where a much shorter course and apparently one through a
more level country lay open to the east into Coronation Gulf.
I do not know the opinion of geologists, but it seems probable that the
original outlet of Great Slave Lake has been changed from this course
to the longer one now followed, in the same way as the Niagara has
become the outlet of the waters of Lake Huron instead of the Northern
River of past ages, which flowed directly across country from the
Georgian Bay to Lake Ontario.
At the distance of 136 miles below Simpson, we reach Fort Wrigley. This
is a new post; the old one of the same name twenty-five miles above
having been abandoned owing to its unhealthy locality. The country
about Fort Wrigley is fairly well wooded. I noticed a spruce log, cut
in the vicinity which measured twenty inches in diameter.
The Nahanni river, which is a considerable stream, flows from the west
and joins the Mackenzie about halfway between Simpson and Wrigley. Just
north of it rises Mount Camsell, a snow-clad peak 5000 ft. high.
Below Wrigley the river narrows to from a half to three quarters of a
mile in width. This continues for some distance and then widens out as
we proceed down the stream. Two noted mountain peaks, Mount Bompas and
Mount Wrigley, are seen between Wrigley and Norman. About twenty miles
above Fort Norman and on the left side of the river the clay banks
assume a very red appearance, and the people use the earth as paint.
This condition of the earth has been produced by fire in the coal
seams. For several miles along the route the fire is now apparently
extinct, but as we reached a point eight miles above Fort Norman,
for upwards of two miles along the right bank of the river smoke was
distinctly observed from fires still burning far down in the seams of
coal. It is worthy of note that Sir Alexander Mackenzie makes mention
of these fires in his narrative, as existing in 1789 when he explored
and gave his name to the river.
About sixty miles below Wrigley we passed the mouth of Salt river which
flows from the east. It is so named from deposits of salt that exist
some miles above the mouth. Rock salt is said to exist on the Great
Bear river above Norman, but the salt in use in the country is from
another Salt River sixteen miles below Fort Smith.
At 7 P.M., July 18, we reached Fort Norman at the mouth of the Great
Bear River which is the outlet of Great Bear Lake. Fort Norman is
distant from Fort Wrigley 184 miles and 1398 miles from Athabaska
Landing. Its situation is very picturesque. The mountain peaks stand
up in bold relief out of a vast level plain. Bear Mountain on the
north side of Great Bear River and east of the Mackenzie is the most
conspicuous.
While the steamer lay at Fort Norman, I started down the shore hoping
to reach Great Bear River, but I soon found it dangerous to attempt to
walk along the water’s edge owing to the banks being in some places
too precipitous. I then tried the land farther up from the shore but
was unable to find a trail and soon got into a wet swamp and had, very
much to my regret, to give up the attempt. The width of the river, I
understand to be some 150 or 200 yards and the water clear. This might
be expected as it is the outlet of a lake with an area nearly if not
quite that of Great Slave Lake.
At Fort Norman a fellow passenger in the person of Rev. H. C. Winch,
left us to assume his duties here as a Missionary of the Anglican
Church. He had been my room mate on the _Wrigley_, all the way from
Fort Smith.
In company with several of the passengers I went up to the little house
which was to be his home and remained till about eleven o’clock at
night, and as we bade him good-bye in the twilight the loneliness of
the life that was before him impressed itself on my mind.
Fancy the weird situation here in this wilderness with none but the
native Indians and a few half breeds for companions. This during the
few summer months when the days were long and when the birds and
the wild geese had not left for the South might not be altogether
unpleasant, but when the days would grow short, when the canoeing
on the river was over and the long nights of winter approached, it
certainly would require a good deal of fortitude to bear the part that
he was to endure.