THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE
Hitherto I have endeavoured to group my observations on each
subject; I shall now for a change give part of the voyage across
Great Slave Lake much, as it appears in my journal.
"July 16, 1907.--Left Fort Resolution at 9.40 A. M. in the York boat
manned by 7 Indians and Billy Loutit, besides Preble and myself, 10
in all; ready with mast and sail for fair wind, but also provided
with heavy 16-foot oars for head-winds and calm. Harding says we
should make Pike's Portage in 3 or 4 days.
"Reached Moose Island at 11.30 chiefly by rowing; camped. A large
dog appeared on the bank. Freesay recognised it as his and went
ashore with a club. We heard the dog yelping. Freesay came back
saying: 'He'll go home now.'
"At 1.30 went on but stopped an unnecessary half-hour at a saw-mill
getting plank for seats. Reached the Big, or Main, River at 4.10;
stopped for tea again till 4.50, then rowed up the river till 5.40;
rested 15 minutes, rowed till 6.30; rested 15 minutes, rowed till
7; then got into the down current of the north branch or mouth of
the Slave; down then we drifted till 8, then landed and made another
meal, the fourth to-day, and went on drifting at 8.30.
"At 9.30 we heard a Ruffed Grouse drumming, the last of the season,
also a Bittern pumping, some Cranes trumpeting, and a Wood Frog
croaking. Snipe were still whirring in the sky. Saw Common Tern.
"At 10.15, still light, we camped for the night and made another
meal. The Indians went out and shot 2 Muskrats, making 7 the total
of these I have seen in the country. This is the very lowest ebb.
Why are they so scarce? Their low epoch agrees with that of the
Rabbits.
"July 17.--Rose at 6 (it should have been 4, but the Indians would
not rouse); sailed north through the marsh with a light east breeze.
At noon this changed to a strong wind blowing from the north, as it
has done with little variation ever since I came to the country. These
Indians know little of handling a boat and resent any suggestion.
They maintain their right, to row or rest, as they please, and land
when and where they think best. We camped on a sand-bar and waited
till night; most exasperating when we are already behind time. The
Indians set a net, using for tie-strings the bark of the willow
(Salix bebbiana). They caught a Jack-fish. Reached Stony Island at
night, after many stops and landings. The Indians land whenever in
doubt and make a meal (at my expense), and are in doubt every two
hours or so. They eat by themselves and have their own cook. Billy
cooks for us, i.e., Preble, Weeso, and myself. Among the crew I
hear unmistakable grumblings about the food, which is puzzling, as
it is the best they ever had in their lives; there is great variety
and no limit to the quantity.
"Made 6 meals and 17 miles to-day, rowing 7, sailing 10.
"July 18.--Left Stony Island at 6.55; could not get the crew started
sooner; sailing with a light breeze which soon died down and left
us on a sea of glass. I never before realised how disgusting a calm
could be.
"Camped at 9.15 on one of the countless, unnamed, uncharted islands
of the lake. It is very beautiful in colour, red granite, spotted
with orange and black lichen on its face, and carpeted with caribou
moss and species of cetraria, great patches of tripe-de-roche, beds
of saxifrage, long trailers, and masses of bearberry, empetrum,
ground cedar, juniper, cryptograma, and many others; while the
trees, willow, birch, and spruce are full of character and drawing.
Sky and lake are in colour worthy of these rich details, the bird
life is well represented and beautiful; there is beauty everywhere,
and 'only man is vile.'
"I am more and more disgusted with my Indian crew; the leader in
mischief seems to be young Beaulieu. Yesterday he fomented a mutiny
because I did not give them 'beans,' though I had given them far
more than promised, and beans were never mentioned. Still, he had
discovered a bag of them among my next month's stores, and that
started him.
"To-day, when sick of seeing them dawdling two hours over a meal
when there are 6 meals a day, I gave the order to start. Beaulieu
demanded insolently: 'Oh! who's boss?' My patience was worn out.
I said: 'I am, and I'll show you right now,' and proceeded to do
so, meaning to let him have my fist with all the steam I could get
back of it. But he did not wait. At a safe distance he turned and
in a totally different manner said: 'I only want to know; I thought
maybe the old man (the guide). I'll do it, all ri, all ri,' and he
smiled and smiled.
"Oh! why did I not heed Pike's warning to shun all Beaulieus; they
rarely fail to breed trouble. If I had realised all this last night
before coming to the open lake I would have taken the whole outfit
back to Resolution and got rid of the crowd. We could do better
with another canoe and two men, and at least make better time than
this (17 miles a day).
"Yesterday the Indian boys borrowed my canoe, my line, and in my
time, at my expense, caught a big fish, but sullenly disregarded
the suggestion that, I should have a piece of it.
"Each of them carries a Winchester and blazes at every living
thing that appears. They have volleyed all day at every creature
big enough to afford a mouthful--Ducks, Gulls, Loons, Fish, Owls,
Terns, etc.--but have hit nothing. Loons are abundant in the water
and are on the Indians' list of Ducks, therefore good food. They
are wonderfully expert at calling them. This morning a couple of
Loons appeared flying far to the east. The Indians at once began
to mimic their rolling whoo-ooo-whoo-ooo; doing it to the life. The
Loons began to swing toward us, then to circle, each time nearer.
Then all the callers stopped except Claw-hammer, the expert; he
began to utter a peculiar cat-like wail. The Loons responded and
dropped their feet as though to alight. Then at 40 yards the whole
crew blazed away with their rifles, doing no damage whatever. The
Loons turned away from these unholy callers, and were none the
worse, but wiser.
"This scene was repeated many times during the voyage. When the
Loons are on the water the Indians toll them by flashing a tin pan
from the bushes behind which the toller hides till the bird is in
range. I saw many clever tollings but I did not see a Loon killed.
"July 19.--I got up at 4, talked strong talk, so actually got away
at 5.30. Plenty grumbling, many meals to-day, with many black looks
and occasional remarks in English: 'Grub no good.' Three days ago
these men were starving on one meal a day, of fish and bad flour;
now they have bacon, dried venison, fresh fish, fresh game, potatoes,
flour, baking powder, tea, coffee, milk, sugar, molasses, lard,
cocoa, dried apples, rice, oatmeal, far more than was promised,
all ad libitum, and the best that the H. B. Co. can supply, and yet
they grumble. There is only one article of the food store to which
they have not access; that is a bag of beans which I am reserving
for our own trip in the north where weight counts for so much.
Beaulieu smiles when I speak to him, but I know he is at the bottom
of all this mischief. To day they made 6 meals and 17 miles--this
is magnificent.
"About 7.30 a pair of Wild Geese (Canada) appeared on a bay. The
boys let off a whoop of delight and rushed on them in canoe and in
boat as though these were their deadliest enemies. I did not think
much of it until I noticed that the Geese would not fly, and it
dawned on me that they were protecting their young behind their own
bodies. A volley of shot-guns and Winchesters and one noble head
fell flat on the water, another volley and the gander fell, then
a wild skurrying, yelling, and shooting for some minutes resulted
in the death of the two downlings.
"I could do nothing to stop them. I have trouble enough in matters
that are my business and this they consider solely their own. It
is nothing but kill, kill, kill every living thing they meet. One
cannot blame them in general, since they live by hunting, and in
this case they certainly did eat every bit of all four birds, even
to their digestive organs with contents; but it seemed hard to have
the devotion of the parents made their death trap when, after all,
we were not in need of meat.
"July 20.--Rose at 4; had trouble on my hands at once. The Indians
would not get up till 5, so we did not get away till 6.20. Beaulieu
was evidently instructing the crew, for at the third breakfast all
together (but perhaps 2) shouted out in English, 'Grub no good!
"I walked over, to them, asked who spoke; no one answered; so, I
reviewed the bargain, pointed out that I had given more than agreed,
and added: 'I did not promise you beans, but will say now that if
you work well I'll give you a bean feast once in a while.'
"They all said in various tongues and ways, 'That's all ri.' Beaulieu
said it several times, and smiled and smiled.
"If the mythical monster that dwells in the bottom of Great Slave
Lake had reached up its long neck now and taken this same half-breed
son of Belial, I should have said, 'Well done, good and faithful
monster,' and the rest of our voyage would have been happier. Oh!
what a lot of pother a beneficent little bean can make.
"At noon that day Billy announced that it was time to give me a
lobstick; a spruce was selected on a slate island and trimmed to
its proper style, then inscribed:
E. T. SETON
E. A. PREBLE
W. C. LOUTIT
20 July
1907
"Now I was in honour bound to treat, the crew. I had neither the
power nor the wish to give whiskey. Tobacco was already provided,
so I seized the opportunity of smoothing things by announcing a
feast of beans, and this, there was good reason to believe, went
far in the cause of peace.
"At 1.30 for the first time a fair breeze sprang up or rather lazily
got up. Joyfully then we raised our mast and sail. The boys curled
up to sleep, except Beaulieu. He had his fiddle and now he proceeded
to favour us with 'A Life on the Ocean Wave,' 'The Campbells are
Coming,' etc., in a manner worthy of his social position and of
his fiddle. When not in use this aesthetic instrument (in its box)
knocks about on deck or underfoot, among pots and pans, exposed in
all weather; no one seems to fear it will be injured.
"At 7 the usual dead calm was restored. We rowed till we reached
Et-then Island at 8, covering two miles more or 32 in all to-day.
I was unwilling to stop now, but the boys, said they would row all
day Sunday if I would camp here, and then added, 'And if the wind
rises to-night we'll go on.'
"At 10 o'clock I was already in bed for the night, though of course
it was broad daylight. Preble had put out a line of mouse-traps,
when the cry was raised by the Indians now eating their 7th meal:
Chim-pal-le! Hurra! Chilla quee!' ('Sailing wind! Hurra, boys!').
"The camp was all made, but after such a long calm a sailing wind
was too good to miss. In 10 minutes every tent was torn down and
bundled into the boat. At 10.10 we pulled out under a fine promising
breeze; but alas! for its promise! at 10.30 the last vestige of
it died away and we had to use the oars to make the nearest land,
where we tied up at 11 P. M.
"That night old Weeso said to me, through Billy, the interpreter:
'To-morrow is Sunday, therefore he would like to have a prayer-meeting
after breakfast.'
"'Tell him,' I said, 'that I quite approve of his prayer-meeting,
but also it must be understood that if the good Lord sends us a
sailing wind in the morning that is His way of letting us know we
should sail.'
"This sounded so logical that Weeso meekly said, 'All right.'
"Sure enough, the morning dawned with a wind and we got away after
the regular sullen grumbling. About 10.20 the usual glassy calm set
in and Weeso asked me for a piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote
something in Chipewyan on the sheet I gave, then returned the pencil
and resumed his pilotic stare at the horizon, for his post was at
the rudder. At length he rolled the paper into a ball, and when I
seemed not observing dropped it behind him overboard.
"'What is the meaning of that, Billy?' I whispered.
"'He's sending a prayer to Jesus for wind.' Half an hour afterward
a strong head-wind sprang up, and Weeso was severely criticised
for not specifying clearly what was wanted.
"There could be no question now about the propriety of landing.
Old Weeso took all the Indians off to a rock, where, bareheaded
and in line, they kneeled facing the east, and for half an hour he
led them in prayer, making often the sign of the cross. The headwind
died away as they came to the boat and again we resumed the weary
rowing, a labour which all were supposed to share, but it did not
need an expert to see that Beaulieu, Snuff, and Terchon merely
dipped their oars and let them drift a while; the real rowing of
that cumbrous old failure of a sailboat was done by Billy Loutit
and Yum Freesay."