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[Illustration: Cover]
THE BARREN GROUND OF NORTHERN CANADA
[Illustration: Ready for Tracking]
THE BARREN GROUND OF NORTHERN CANADA
by
WARBURTON PIKE
[Illustration]
New York
E. P. Dutton & Company
681 Fifth Avenue
Published, 1917,
By E. P. Dutton & Co.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION
In many of the outlying districts of Canada an idea is prevalent,
fostered by former travellers, that somewhere in London there exists a
benevolent society whose object is to send men incapable of making any
useful scientific observations to the uttermost parts of the earth, in
order to indulge their taste for sport or travel. Several times before I
had fairly started for the North, and again on my return, I was asked if
I had been sent out under the auspices of this society, and, I am
afraid, rather fell in the estimation of the interviewers when I was
obliged to confess that my journey was only an ordinary shooting
expedition, such as one might make to the Rocky Mountains or the
interior of Africa, and that no great political reformation depended
upon my report as to what I had seen.
In talking with officers of the Hudson's Bay Company, many of whom had
been stationed for long periods in the Athabasca and Mackenzie River
districts, I had often heard of a strange animal, a relic of an earlier
age, that was still to be found roaming the Barren Ground, the vast
desert that lies between Hudson's Bay, the eastern ends of the three
great lakes of the North, and the Arctic Sea. This animal was the
Musk-ox, but my informants could tell me nothing from personal
experience, and all that was known on the subject had been gathered from
Indian report. Once or twice some enthusiastic sportsman had made the
attempt to reach the land of the Musk-ox, but had never succeeded in
carrying out his object; specimens had been secured by the officers of
the various Arctic expeditions, but no one had ever seen much of these
animals or of the methods of hunting them employed by the Northern
Indians.
This, then, was the sole object of my journey; to try and penetrate this
unknown land, to see the Musk-ox, and find out as much as I could about
their habits, and the habits of the Indians who go in pursuit of them
every year. But the only white men who had succeeded in getting far out
into the Barren Ground were the early explorers,--Hearne, Sir John
Franklin, Sir George Back, and Dr. Richardson, while long afterwards Dr.
Rae and Stewart and Anderson went in search of the missing Franklin
expedition. With the exception of Hearne, who threw in his lot with the
Indians, these leaders were all accompanied by the most capable men that
could be procured, and no expense was spared in order to make success as
certain as possible; yet in spite of every precaution the story of Sir
John Franklin's first overland journey and the death of Hood are among
the saddest episodes in the history of the Arctic exploration.
My best chance seemed to be to follow Hearne's example, and trust to
the local knowledge of Indians to help me; and I think, as the sequel
showed, that I was right in not taking a crew from Winnipeg. The Indians
and half-breeds of the Great Slave Lake, although very hard to manage,
are certainly well up in Barren Ground travel; they are possessed of a
thorough knowledge of the movements of the various animals at different
seasons, and thus run less danger of starvation than strangers, however
proficient the latter may be in driving dogs and handling canoes.
In following out this plan I naturally passed through a great deal of
new country, and discovered, as we white men say when we are pointed out
some geographical feature by an Indian who has been familiar with it
since childhood, many lakes and small streams never before visited
except by the red man. I have attempted in a rough map to mark the
chains of lakes by which we reached the Barren Ground, but their
position is only approximate, and perhaps not even that, as I had no
instruments with which to make correct observations, and in any case
should have had little time to use them. Let no eminent geographer waste
his time in pointing out the inaccuracies in this map; I admit all the
errors before he discovers them. All that I wish to show is that these
chains of lakes do exist and can be used as convenient routes, doing
away with the often-tried method of forcing canoes up the swift and
dangerous streams that fall into the Great Slave Lake from the northern
tableland.
The success of my expedition is to be attributed entirely to the
assistance which was given me by the Hudson's Bay Company, and I take
this opportunity of thanking them for all the hospitality that was shown
to me throughout my journey; I was never refused a single request that I
made, and, although a total stranger, was treated with the greatest
kindness by everybody, from the Commissioner at Winnipeg to the engaged
servant in the Far North. My thanks are especially due to Lord Anson,
one of the directors in London, to Messrs. Wrigley and William Clark at
Winnipeg, Mr. Roderick MacFarlane, lately of Stuart's Lake, British
Columbia, a well-known northern explorer who put me in the way of making
a fair start, Dr. Mackay of Athabasca, Mr. Camsell of Mackenzie River,
Mr. Ewen Macdonald of Peace River, and most of all to Mr. Mackinlay of
Fort Resolution on the Great Slave Lake, who was my companion during a
long summer journey in the Barren Ground.
My only excuse for publishing this account of my travels is that the
subject is a reasonably new one, and deals with a branch of sport that
has never been described. I have spared the reader statistics, and I
have kept my story as short as possible. I hope that in return anyone
who may be interested in these pages will spare his comments on faulty
style, and the various errors into which a man who has spent much time
among the big game is sure to fall when he is rash enough to lay down
his rifle and take up the pen.
I have also cut out the chapter with which these books usually begin,--a
description of the monotonous voyage by Atlantic steamer and Canadian
Pacific Railway, and start at once from Calgary, a thriving cattle-town
close under the eastern foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains.
LONDON, 1891.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Ready for Tracking _Frontispiece_
PAGE
The Old Hudson Bay Post at Edmonton 2
The Hudson Bay Fort at Edmonton 6
The "Grahame" Towing Freight-scows on Lake
Athabasca 16
Patching a Birch-bark on the Slave River 26
King Beaulieu 32
A Dead White Wolf 57
The Indians Driving Caribou 89
Making Camp 102
Taking the Post Dogs for Exercise 142
Skins in the Post Store-room 142
Dog-rib Powwow at Fort Resolution 167
A Group of Dog-ribs 167
Starting up the Peace River 233
Junction of the Peace and Smoky Rivers 248
The Arrival of the Dog Train 295
Edmonton 298
MAP
A SKETCH MAP to illustrate Mr. Warburton
Pike's journeys to the Barren Ground of
Northern Canada _To face p._ 302
THE BARREN GROUND
OF
NORTHERN CANADA
THE
BARREN GROUND
OF
NORTHERN CANADA
CHAPTER I
In the middle of June, 1889, I left Calgary for a drive of two hundred
miles to Edmonton, the real starting-point for the great northern
country controlled by the Hudson's Bay Company, and, with the exception
of their scattered trading-posts, and an occasional Protestant or Roman
Catholic Mission, entirely given up to what it was evidently intended
for, a hunting-ground for the Indian.
My conveyance was a light buckboard, containing my whole outfit, which
was as small as possible, consisting almost entirely of ammunition for a
12-bore Paradox and a 50-95 Winchester Express, besides a pair of large
blankets and a little necessary clothing.
Forest fires were raging in the Rocky Mountains close at hand, and the
thick smoke obscuring the sun, the heat was not nearly so fierce as
usual at this time of the year; the road was good for a prairie road,
and comfortable stopping-places each night made the journey quite easy.
About sixty miles out the country loses the appearance of what is known
among cattlemen as the bald-headed prairie, and is dotted with clumps of
poplar, and occasionally pines; half way to Edmonton the road crosses
the broad stream of the Red Deer, and passes through the most attractive
country that I have seen in the north-west territories. It is being
rapidly settled, and, with the convenience of a railway now building
between Calgary and Edmonton, cannot fail to be an important farming and
stock-raising district within a few years.
On the morning of the fifth day I reached Edmonton, a pleasant little
town scattered along the far bank of the North Saskatchewan, and
historical in the annals of the Hudson's Bay Company, by whom it was
established as a fur trading-post many years ago; it is fated shortly to
lose its individuality in the stream of advancing civilization, and will
probably develop into an ordinary prairie-town of some importance.
[Illustration: Old Hudson Bay Post at Edmonton]
Finding that I had no time to spare if I wished to catch the steamer
down the Athabasca river, I left again the same evening, after buying a
small supply of flour and bacon. I changed the buckboard for a wagon,
having for driver a French half-breed who had spent his early life on
the prairie in buffalo-hunting, but, on the extinction of the game, had
been earning a living by freighting for the Hudson's Bay Company, and
farming on a small scale. He was a much pleasanter companion than the
smartly dressed young man, "come of good folks in the East," who had
been my driver from Calgary, and many an interesting tale he told me on
our three-days' journey to the banks of the Athabasca; tales of the good
old times when the buffalo were thick, and the Crees waged perpetual war
against the Blackfeet, and whisky formed the staple article of trade for
the Indian's fur. At the present day the Prohibition Act orders that
even the white men of the north-west territories must be temperate,
thereby causing whisky to be dear and bad, but plentiful withal, and it
is surprising how such a law exists in a country where nine men out of
ten not only want to drink, but do drink in open defiance of the
commands of a motherly Government.
A fair road some hundred miles in length has been made by the Hudson's
Bay Company through a rolling sandy country, crossing several large
streams and passing through a good deal of thick pine timber where some
heavy chopping must have been necessary. The flies bothered us greatly;
the large bulldogs, looking like a cross between a bee and a
blue-bottle, drove the horses almost to madness, and after our mid-day
halt it was no easy matter to put the harness on; fortunately we had
netting, or the poor beasts would have fared much worse: as it was the
blood was streaming from their flanks during the heat of the day. The
mosquitos appeared towards evening, but as the nights were usually
chilly they only annoyed us for a few hours. There were no houses along
the road, but plenty of firewood and feed for the horses; we had a good
camp every night, sleeping in the open air, starting very early and
resting long in the middle of the day.
Two days took us over the divide between the Saskatchewan and Athabasca
rivers, and now the water in the little streams that we crossed
eventually reached the sea far away in the frozen Arctic Ocean at the
mouth of the great Mackenzie. Early on the fourth day we came in sight
of the Athabasca running between high pine-clad banks, and, dropping
down a steep hill, found the Company's steamer loading up with freight
for the far north. This spot is known as the Athabasca landing, and
consists of a large depot for goods, trading-store, and several
workmen's houses, while the house of the officer in charge stands on the
hillside a little way back from the river. From the landing there is
water communication down stream, broken of course by portages, to the
Arctic sea, while the Lesser Slave Lake lies within a few days' travel
up stream, from the north end of which a road seventy-five miles in
length has been cut to the bank of Peace River. I spent a pleasant
enough day loafing about, Mr. Wood, who was in charge, showing me great
kindness and giving me much useful information about my route, and at
twelve o'clock the following day we started down stream. The only other
passengers were a Mr. Flett and his wife and daughter, who were on their
way to take charge of Fort Smith during the coming winter. Mr. Flett was
just returning from a visit to his native country, the Orkney Islands,
after an absence of forty-four years in the service of the Company, all
of which time was spent in the wildest part of the North. He was full of
the wonderful changes that had taken place since he was a boy, but
finding himself completely lost in civilization, had hurried back to the
land of snow. Unfortunately Mrs. Flett had been unable to stand the
climate of the old country, and was quite broken down in her health. I
was sorry to hear during the winter that she died a few days after we
left her at Fort Chipeweyan.
Owing to the very light snowfall in the mountains in the winter of
1888-89, the water in the river was unusually low, and, as we expected,
on the third day the steamer, a large light-draught stern-wheeler, after
striking several times on shallow bars, had to abandon the attempt to
reach the Grand Rapids. We accordingly tied up to the bank, and, sending
a skiff down to take the news, awaited the arrival of boats from below
to take our cargo. For ten days we lay at the junction of Pelican River,
a small stream coming in on the north side of the Athabasca. There was
absolutely nothing to do; the low gravelly banks on each side were
fringed with thick willows backed by a narrow belt of poplars, and
behind these the gloomy pine woods, with here and there a solitary
birch, stretched away in an unbroken mass as far as the eye could see.
The forest was alive with mosquitos, although owing to the low water in
the river they were said to be much less numerous than usual; they were
sufficiently thick however to make any exploration in the woods a
misery. Fishing we tried without much result, and everybody was pleased
when at last Mr. Scott Simpson, who was in charge of the river transport
that summer, arrived with two boats. The steamer's cargo was unloaded,
partly into the boats and partly on to the bank, and early in the
morning she started back for the landing while we proceeded on our
journey down stream.
These inland boats, as they are termed, are extraordinary specimens of
marine architecture, long open craft, classified according to shape as
York boats, sturgeon-heads, and scows, capable of carrying a load of ten
tons, manned by a crew of eight oars and a steersman, rowed down stream
and tracked up, running rapids and bumping on rocks. Planks, nails, and
pitch are always kept ready to effect repairs, and are in frequent
demand. The crews are generally half-breeds from the Lesser Slave Lake
and Lake La Biche, both of which pour their waters into the Athabasca;
but there are also volunteers from all parts of the North, as the wages
are good and the work is suited to the half-breed's character, besides
the certainty of receiving rations every day, which is a great
attraction in a land of scarcity. Sometimes crews of Locheaux Indians
are sent up from the Mackenzie, and have the reputation of being the
best workers; they certainly seemed to me to be less given to rebellion
and more easily managed than the half-breeds. The boats are steered with
a huge sweep passed through a ring in the stern post, and great
responsibility rests on the steersman, who at times requires all his
skill and strength to throw the heavily-laden boat clear of a rock in a
boiling rapid.
[Illustration: The Hudson Bay Fort at Edmonton]
In three days, without accident, we reached the island at the head of
the Grand Rapids, just in time to rescue a Company's clerk named Mackay
from a very unenviable position. He had come up with the boat-brigade
from Fort MacMurray, and, provisions running short, had travelled
overland accompanied by a half-breed to meet the steamer from which they
expected to get supplies to take down to the crews. On reaching the
island they were unable to attract the attention of the man left in
charge of the freight lying there, so they walked a couple of miles up
the north bank and built a raft on which to cross the river. They
thought they would be able to pole the raft, but the water proved too
deep, and being unable to get steerage way on her, they soon broke
their unmanageable vessel to pieces against a rock. It was now a case of
swimming in a strong current that was forcing them over the big rapid
where certain death awaited them; the half-breed succeeded in fetching
the island, but Mackay, seeing he was being swept over the fall, swam to
a rock and managed to climb on to it. The half-breed found the sole
inhabitant of the island in his cabin, but there was no boat in which to
go to the rescue, and if there had been it was no easy matter for two
men to lower it down, without all going over the rapid. They were
engaged in building a raft to make the attempt when they saw our brigade
coming down the river. By the aid of a long line and plenty of hands the
smallest boat was lowered down to the rocks, and what might have been a
very serious accident was luckily averted. Mackay was much chilled by
sitting on the rocks for several hours in wet clothes after two days
without eating; but, when he had had a good meal he was none the worse
for his rough experience, and, as is always the case when the danger is
past, had plenty of chaff to put up with.
The channel on the south side of the island can be used for dropping a
light boat down with a line, but all cargo has to be portaged; the north
channel is quite impracticable for navigation, having a heavy overfall
with an immense body of broken water. The whole river-bed above the
island is covered with round boulders of soft sandstone, many above
water, which make the approach to the landing difficult. The north bank
is a sand-bluff with many similar boulders protruding from the steep
cliff, the south bank lower and timbered close to the water's edge. Many
perfect specimens of petrifaction are to be seen on the island and along
the river-banks.
The portage is the whole length of the island, about one thousand yards,
and a rough tramway has been built to save the labour of carrying
cargoes such a distance on men's backs; this tramway is a splendid
plaything for the crews, and they spend hours in running the trolley
down the hill and poling it up on the principle of a canoe ascending a
rapid. Here we passed two weeks in waiting for the boats from below to
take the whole of the steamer's load, which during this time was brought
down by the same boats that we had used. The time slipped away quickly,
though we did nothing but smoke and yarn, and towards the end of July
the brigade turned up, bringing the first consignment of furs and the
news from the North. We were soon off on our hundred-and-fifty-miles'
run to Fort MacMurray, and the travelling was now exciting enough, a
succession of rapids making hard work for the men, as several had to be
run with half loads and the boats tracked up for the other half, and at
a small cascade everything had to be portaged while the boats were
dropped over with a line.
The worst rapid goes by the name of the Boiler Rapid, from the fact of
the boiler for the steamer _Wrigley_ which plies on Mackenzie River
having been lost here through the breaking of a boat. Here the channel
has a bad turn in the strong water, and neat steering is required to
clear two reefs of rocks which lie in an awkward position in the middle
of the stream. Sometimes there were long stretches of quiet water
between the rapids, and the boats drifted with the current while the men
smoked or slept; occasionally some one would strike up a snatch from one
of the old French-Canadian _chansons_, which seem to be dropping out of
fashion entirely since the steamers have to such a large extent done
away with the old style of boating. Four, five, and on long days
sometimes six times we put ashore to eat; a wonderful amount of flour,
bacon, and tea being consumed by the fifty men composing the brigade.
Considering the distance from which the provisions are brought, the
inability of this part of the country to supply any of the necessaries
of life, and the importance of forwarding trading-goods to the northern
districts before the short summer closes, it is not surprising that
there should be at times a scarcity. On the present occasion, however,
there was no stint, and fine weather made the trip delightful. At night
the boats were run ashore, and each crew lighting their own fire, the
encampment presented a most picturesque appearance, the gaudy belts and
head-gear of the swarthy crews as they moved in the firelight showing
in strong contrast to the dark background of tall pine trees. We
generally chose as exposed a place as possible for the camp, to get the
benefit of any wind there might be to blow away the mosquitos, which
were bad in this part of the river. I had the post of honour in the
leading boat steered by the guide of the brigade, a Swampy Indian from
the Red-River country who had spent many years in voyaging for the
Hudson's Bay Company. In former days the guide was absolute dictator and
had full control over all the boats, but nowadays discipline is slack
and he seems to have little authority.
It was a pretty sight to see the long string of boats leaping the rapids
behind us, the bowsman standing up and pointing the course to the
steersman, while the rowers plied their utmost and broke out into the
wild shouts that can never be suppressed in moments of excitement. The
Cree language forms the medium of conversation, although many of the
half-breeds talk fluently in Red-River French; English is little spoken
in any part of the North that I visited.
On the afternoon of the fourth day we arrived at Fort MacMurray, a small
post of little importance, standing at the junction of the Athabasca and
the Clearwater River, a large stream coming in from the southward, and
until the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway to Calgary the main
route to the North. The outfits sent from Winnipeg used to reach the
waters falling into the Arctic Sea far up the Clearwater at the
northern end of what was known as the Long Portage, but the present
route is much simpler, as there is no up-stream work with loaded boats.
After leaving Fort MacMurray the old course is maintained, following
down stream the main artery of the northern watershed.
The stern-wheel steamer _Grahame_ was waiting for us in the mouth of the
Clearwater, with Dr. Mackay, the Hudson's Bay Company's officer in
charge of the Athabasca district of which MacMurray is the most
southerly post. It extends to the north as far as Fort Resolution on the
Great Slave Lake, and also takes in Fort Chipeweyan, the head-post of
the district, situated at the west end of the Athabasca Lake, Fond du
Lac at the east end of the same sheet of water, Vermillion and Little
Red River on the Lower Peace River, and Fort Smith at the foot of the
rapids on the Slave River. It is no sinecure for the man that has to
keep this vast extent of country supplied with everything necessary for
the existence of the Indians, making the best bargain he can for the
products of their hunts, and endeavouring to please the Chipeweyans in
the woods and the shareholders of the Company in England at the same
time.
The cargo was put on board the steamer in the evening, and in the early
morning we started once more for the North. The water was still
exceedingly low, but not so much so as to be an impediment to
navigation, as the stream increases in size after the junction of the
Clearwater, and beyond scraping once or twice on sand-bars, our progress
was uninterrupted. About twenty miles below MacMurray we stopped to take
on wood and pitch from the natural tar deposits which are just beginning
to attract a little attention in Eastern Canada, and the geologists,
about to be sent from Ottawa to examine into the resources of this part
of the country, will doubtless make a thorough investigation of the
amount and quality of the deposit.
The whole of that day we steamed through a wilderness of pine timber
presenting exactly the same appearance as in the upper reaches of the
river, but on the following morning the banks became low and swampy, the
stream sluggish and divided into various branches, and a few miles of
intricate navigation brought us out on to the Athabasca Lake. Across on
the north shore we could make out the white houses and church of Fort
Chipeweyan, and after a couple of hours' steaming, with smooth water, we
were alongside the rather rough apology for a landing-place.
Fort Chipeweyan was established in the early days of fur-trading, and a
hundred years ago was the starting-point of Sir Alexander Mackenzie's
voyage of discovery that resulted in the exploration and naming of the
immense stream discharging from the Great Slave Lake. It was the scene
of many stirring events during the rivalry of the North-West and the
Hudson's Bay Companies, and since their amalgamation has always been an
important trading-post. At the present day it consists of a long row of
white painted log-houses occupied chiefly by the Company's servants; at
the southern end are the officers' quarters in close proximity to the
large trading and provision stores; at the north end stand the
Protestant church and Mission buildings, and farther along the lake is
the Roman Catholic establishment. The numerous houses form quite an
imposing sight in contrast to the surrounding desolation. The settlement
is almost at the west end of the Athabasca Lake which stretches away
some two hundred and fifty miles to the eastward, with Fond du Lac, a
small outpost, at the far end.
Since the steamers have been running Chipeweyan has been partly supplied
with the provisions of civilization, but is still chiefly dependent on
its fisheries for food, and great pains are taken in the autumn to store
as many whitefish as possible. At the commencement of cold weather every
available net is working and the fish are hung on stages to freeze; a
large number are spoilt for eating if the weather turns warm during
hanging-time, but they are always available for the dogs. Trout-lines
are worked all the winter, and if the supply seems to be running short,
nets are also set under the ice, but usually without such good results
as at the Fall fishery. Caribou from the Barren Ground sometimes wander
near Fond du Lac, and whenever this occurs the fort is kept well
supplied by the Indians, but an occasional moose affords as a rule the
only chance of fresh meat. Many geese and ducks are killed and salted
during the spring and autumn migration of wild-fowl, which come to the
Athabasca Lake at these periods in vast numbers. Chipeweyan has a large
population for the part of the world in which it is situated, and as
there is a proportionate consumption of food no chance of laying in a
stock is missed. The lake still affords an excellent field for
exploration, as beyond the main route to the east end and some of the
nearer fisheries very little is known to the Whites, and the country in
every direction from Fond du Lac is mapped chiefly on information
derived from Indians. It is unlikely that there are any startling
discoveries to be made, as the general character of the country seems to
be the same as that of the district lying to the north and east of the
Great Slave Lake, developing gradually into the Barren Ground; but there
must be many geographical features in the form of streams and lakes to
be noticed, which might amply repay the trouble of a summer's
exploration. All supplies can easily be taken by water-carriage as far
as the east end of the lake, though of course the well-known difficulty
of transporting provisions into the Barren Ground would commence as soon
as the main lake was left.