A few years ago, before Stefansson reported on the blond Eskimos, the
first Eskimo movie ever taken was shown in Toronto to a small audience
who waited an hour for the film, which did not begin until a thick,
grizzly man with shrewish, penetrating eyes came in with his party.
"Sir William Mackenzie, late as usual," whispered one. "He never
arrives on time at a public function, often sleeps at a play, and
sometimes when his family invite musicians to his home he plays bridge
in a distant room so as not to hear the music."
"Oh, yes," nudged the other; "but Sir William, you see, owns this film.
It was taken by his own exploration party."
"Oh! Then the last scene will probably be Eskimos laying railway ties."
"Oh, no. Digging up mineral deposits. Iron--Sh!"
It was a wonderful film full of epical energy and primitive beauty;
picturing one of the few kinds of people in Canada that Mackenzie had
never been able to link up to civilization. The room was hung with
costumes, curios and weapons of these folk, all of which were
afterwards presented to the Royal Ontario Museum by Sir William, who
was never enormously interested in ethnology. And that exploration of
the far North was the last act in the complicated drama of William
Mackenzie's great discoveries in Canada.
A study of Mackenzie is useful under the head: