IMAGE EVALUATrON 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
 h 
 
 A 
 
 
 /. 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 121 
 
 m m 
 
 
 in 
 us 
 
 US 
 
 140 
 
 IL25 III 1.4 
 
 1 
 
 2.2 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.6 
 
 V] 
 
 /] 
 
 ^?. 
 
 »1> •■; 
 
 ■^. 
 
 ''W 
 
 '/ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
 '^^^^^.^'^ 
 
 4^ 
 

 CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHIVl/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for fil.ning. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 □ 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommag^e 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaurie et/ou pellicul6e 
 
 I I Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 I I Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes g6ographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured init (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Reli6 avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La re Mure serrde peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge int6rieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanche^ ajouties 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela itait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas 6t6 fiimdes. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppiimentaires; 
 
 Variout pagings. 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cat exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la mithode normale de filmage 
 sont indiquis ci-dessous. 
 
 I I Coloured pages/ 
 
 D 
 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagdes 
 
 Pages restored and/oi 
 
 Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxet 
 Pages d^coiordes. tachet6es ou piqudes 
 
 Pages detached/ 
 Pages ddtach^es 
 
 Showthroi*gh/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of prir 
 
 Quality inigale de I'impression 
 
 Includes supplementary materii 
 Comprend du materiel supplimentaire 
 
 idition available/ 
 Edition disponible 
 
 The c 
 to thi 
 
 I — I Pages damaged/ 
 
 I I Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 
 ryl Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 
 I I Pages detached/ 
 
 I I Showthro^igh/ 
 
 I I Quality of print varies/ 
 
 I I Includes supplementary material/ 
 
 □ Only edition available/ 
 Seule 
 
 Their 
 possil 
 of thf 
 filmin 
 
 Origlr 
 begini 
 the la 
 sion. 
 other 
 first f 
 sion. 
 or illu 
 
 The la 
 shall ( 
 TINUE 
 which 
 
 Maps, 
 differ! 
 entire 
 begini 
 right I 
 requir( 
 metho 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc.. ont 6t6 fiimdes d nouveau de fa^on d 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est fiimd au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous 
 
 10X 14X 18X 22X 
 
 
 
 
 26X 
 
 
 
 
 30X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12X 
 
 
 
 
 16X 
 
 
 
 
 20X 
 
 
 
 
 24X 
 
 
 
 
 28X 32X 
 
 1 
 
pl8ire 
 98 details 
 iques du 
 nt modifier 
 xiger une 
 de filmage 
 
 d/ 
 ludes 
 
 The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 Library of the Public 
 Archives of Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol — ^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 L'exemplaire film* fut reproduit grAce A la 
 g^nArositA de: 
 
 1^ bibiiothAque des Archives 
 publiques du Canada 
 
 Las images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettet* de l'exemplaire film*, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est ImprimAe sont film6s en commengant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 derniire page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film6s en commen^ant par la 
 premiere page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaltra sur la 
 dernlAre image de cheque microfiche, seion le 
 cas: le symbole — ► signifie "A SUIVRE ". le 
 symbols y signifie "FIN". 
 
 aire 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., ma/ be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely Included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 filmte A des taux de reduction diff^rents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour fttre 
 reproduit en un seul clich6, ii est film6 A partir 
 de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gaurhe d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la m^thode. 
 
 by errata 
 led to 
 
 ent 
 
 Line pelure, 
 
 fapon A 
 
 \ t 
 
 i 
 
 3 
 
 32X 
 
 t 
 
 t 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
IS 
 
 ffiJ 
 
 !iju 
 
 7/ 
 
 III 
 
 7 
 
 ;:[-./o ~- 
 
 7 
 
 <'} .'\ re 
 
 \i ^'<('i - '^ /7 
 
 
 / yW C 
 
 r 
 
 . ; ' ) 
 
 fi-.//4d "^^'^ 
 
 
 i- /! i 
 
 -^ >. 
 
 
 
 
 sent fi 
 walke 
 Beiiiii 
 keepe 
 while 
 
 "I SI 
 
 Polbj 
 
 ffiile I 
 head, 
 thai 1 
 said t 
 

 yO 
 
 kj* 
 
 / ,' .. 
 
 ■' / - 
 
 >.' . L 
 
 ^sJ 
 
 etif 
 
 ARTjY in tlio morning the lif?lit lionse-keopcr and liis jrraiKldauglitcr went 
 out for a walU alonj? tlie beacli. Tlie (jirl had just come down on a visit 
 from fh(^ town, and she was curious to see the wreck on tlie beach slie 
 had ni'ticcd tli(^ eveninjf before. The wiiul was blowinjr, and the air was 
 full of the ceaseh'ss monotone of the I)reakers, that at each recurrent burst 
 sent a frothy sheet of wat«!r slidinjr up aci-oss the sand. The old liiiht-house keeper 
 walked linipinyiy with his cane. lie had been wouiuled in the knee in the battle of 
 Bennin<flon in the Revolution, and the government had given him the post of light- 
 kee])er. When they reached the wreck they stopped, and stood looking at it for a 
 while. " ' PoUji Ann,''''' read the young girl; and then, looking at the ligure-head, 
 "I suppose that is a likeness of somebody."' "Ay, ay," says the old man, "the 
 Polly A)in. She was an unlucky craft, they do say. She went ashore here in a 
 gale last October, and two of the crew was drowned."' Then he looked at the figure- 
 head, squinting in the bright light as he did so. " 'Tis like enough," .said he, " that 
 that be the likeness of the daughter of the owner." "I wonder who carved it?" 
 said the girl. ""Tis very well done." 
 

 
 ON SNOW SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 
 
 5 
 
 ^\ 
 
 DY CASPAR W.WHITNEY 
 
 I 
 
 ^\\i to llic iiortliw est. lu'iiiiiiiiiiy b'li 
 
 (l;iys" joiiriicv Ik'voihI (Irciit Sliivc 
 Luke iiiul riimiiiiL;' down to tlio Arctic 
 OccMii, willi lliHisoii Jjiiy as its eastern 
 and (Ileal licai' Jiaivcand tlic Coppci-niiiic 
 River as its western l)oiindaries, lies the 
 most, complete and extendeil desolation on 
 earth. 'J'hat is the IJarren Grounds, the 
 land whose approximate ::3(I0.(I()() scpiare 
 miles I for its exact area is iiiiknonn i is the 
 dwellinj,''-place of no man. and its storms 
 and sterility in its niosl noi'thevly i)art 
 are withstood the year round hy no livin*,^ 
 creature save the musk ox. There is the 
 timberless waste where ice -laden blasts 
 blow with hurricane and ceaseless I'ui'y 
 that l)id your blood stand still and your 
 breath "ome and <:-o in ])aiut'ul stinpin<i" 
 g'asps; where rock and lichen aiul moss 
 r«'place soil and trees and herhaye; and 
 where death by starvation or freezing;' 
 doji's the footsteps of tlu^ explf)rer. 
 
 There are two .seasons and only two 
 methods of penetrating this yreat lone 
 land of the North — by canoe, when the 
 watercourses are free of ice. and on snow- 
 shoes durinji' the fr(r/eii period, which oc- 
 cupies nearlv niiu' of the year's twelve 
 months. The deadly cold of winter, and 
 greater risk of starvation, make the canoe 
 ti'i[) the more usual one with the few Ind- 
 ians that hunt the musk-ox. Hut. because 
 of the many portages, you cannot travel 
 so rapidly hy canoe as on snow-shoes, nor 
 go so far north for the best of the musk- 
 
 ox hunting;', .lor see the Barren Grounds at 
 their ix'st. or worst, as you care to consid- 
 er it. Thai is why 1 chose to make the 
 attempt on snow-shoes. 
 
 And why did I turn my face towards a 
 country which seemed to hold luniyht for 
 the travellei' bul hardsliip^ Well — cer- 
 tainly to hunt musk (»x, the tnost inacces- 
 sible yaine in the world, and to look upon 
 his habilat at the period of its uttermost 
 desolation: certainly also to study the 
 several tribes of Indians throuj;li which 
 I must i)ass on my way to the Barren 
 Grounds: and cii ruitfe to hunt wood- 
 bison, undoubtedly now become the rar- 
 est jianie in the world. Possiljly. too, 1 
 went that I mi<^ht for a time escape; the 
 hum and routine soi-didness of the city, 
 and breathe air which was not surcharjred 
 with convention and civilization. 
 
 Arthur Ileminjj, the artist, and I found 
 ourselves, Decemi)er 27. 1S!U, at Edmon- 
 ton, the end of the i-ailroad. We had 
 trav<'lled on the Canadian Pacilic vid 
 "Winnipeti' and Cal^-'ary, and throujrh the 
 land of the Crees. Blackfeet. and Sarcee 
 Indians, without seeinj,'- anything;' so pic- 
 trvesque in the way of costumiiif,'- as the 
 AVinnipeji' drajjoon and a Sarcee young" 
 woman respleiulent in beads and olitter- 
 ing- tinsel. I really oujrht to include the 
 mounted ])oliceman, for he too has a 
 uniform which, with scarlet jacket and 
 yellow -striped breeches, is desei-ving of 
 greater attention. But the mounted po- 
 
 c 
 o 
 
 to 
 o 
 
 iZ 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 
 o 
 
 r 
 c 
 
 03 
 
 H 
 O 
 
 fe 
 
 3 
 
J 
 
 tr 
 
 INDS 
 
 Gromulsat 
 e to c'oiisid- 
 o niulvo tlie 
 
 e towards a 
 
 iKiujjlit for 
 
 Well— (.,.1- 
 
 ost inact'cs- 
 
 () look ii|)()n 
 
 s iittcniiost 
 
 study the 
 
 )iij:li wliicli 
 
 mill wood- 
 uie tlic viir- 
 ■iihly, too. 1 
 escajx! the 
 >f tlio city, 
 siircliarg't'ti 
 on. 
 
 nd I fouiul 
 at Ednion- 
 Wc had 
 Pacific v',6, 
 lifoiij.-'li tlie 
 Mild Sarcee 
 in<^- so i)ic- 
 liiiji' as tlie 
 ■('(H! young' 
 ind ylitter- 
 includo the 
 too lias a 
 jacket and 
 serving- of 
 ounted po- 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 K 
 
 ► 
 
 •< 
 
 o 
 
 r 
 
 e 
 
 o 
 
 E5 
 
 a 
 
 
r/ 
 
 St 
 
 f 
 
 NORTHWESTKRX RHITISH AMERICA, SHO^VING HARREN GROUNDS AND MR. WHITNKV S ROL'TK. 
 
 liceruau lias that wliicli is i.ir woi-tliier 
 of coiuiiKMit tliaii uiiiroriii. He has the 
 ivputalion of boiiiy: tho most eU'eclive 
 anil of tlie Canadian Interior Dejjart- 
 niont. Ami he lives \\\\ to it. These 
 '■ Riders of the Plains," as they are called, 
 l)atroi a country so larj^e that the entire 
 force may lose itself within its domains 
 a'ld .still be miles upon miles apart. Yet 
 tlii^ comparative handful maintains or- 
 der among the lawless white men and 
 stays di.scontentment amonjj the restless 
 red men in a manner so satisfactorily and 
 fso unostentatiously as to maive some of 
 our United States experiences read like 
 those of a tyro. 
 
 The success of the Northwest Mount4.Hl 
 Police may 1)6 accredited to its system of 
 distribution throughout the <>uarded ter- 
 ritory. Unlike our army, it does not 
 mass its force in forts adjacent to liidian 
 reservations. Posts it has, where recruit- 
 
 ing' and drillinj?^ are constantly going for- 
 ward, but the main body of men is scat- 
 tered in twos and threes over the coun- 
 try, riding hither and thither — a watch 
 that goes on relief after relief. This is 
 the secret of their success, and a ^ ystem 
 it would well repay our own govern- 
 ment to adopt. The police are ever on 
 the spot to advise or to arrest. They 
 do not) wait for action until an outbreak 
 has occurred; they aro always in action. 
 They constitute a most valuable i)eace- 
 assuring corps, and I wish we had one 
 like it. 
 
 Although Edmonton has but a few 
 hundred i)opulation, it is doubly honored 
 — by an electric-light plant wliich illumi- 
 nates the town when not otlierwise en- 
 gaged, and by a patience-trying railway 
 company that sends two trains a week to 
 Calgary and gives them twelve hours in 
 which to make two hundred miles. But 
 
 I 
 
r»"" 
 
 ^^'^' 
 
 xs^ 
 
 JKV S ROL'TE. 
 
 tly going for- 
 ' intMi is scat- 
 vcr the coun- 
 lier — a watcli 
 ilief. This is 
 and a ^ystem 
 own govern- 
 i are ever on 
 lurcst. They 
 
 an outbreak 
 ays in action, 
 hiable peace- 
 
 \ve liad one 
 
 s but a few 
 ubly honored 
 w)iich illumi- 
 utL'erwise en- 
 ■ying- railway 
 ins a week to 
 elve hours in 
 I miles. But 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 ON SNOW-SHOKS Tf) THE HAKHKN GKorNDS. 
 
 no one. except liicldess travel h-rs, at Kd- 
 inontnii cares a rap about inlerinitlent 
 electric? iiji'lits, or raih'oads that ruti pas- 
 sengers on a I'reitrlit schfdule, so lo.ig as 
 tli«'y do nnl alVccI liic fur li-adtv Fur was 
 oi'iginally liie riiiHoti d'etre (>( Kdnionton's 
 e.sisteiM'c. and continues tlie principal ex- 
 cuse ol :1s being. In the last thrcf years 
 tlie settlement of a strip of land soulli 
 and of one to tlit* north has created a 
 farming or ranching contingi-nt. i)ut to 
 date of my visit canned goods appeared 
 to remain iln> chief artich- of sustenance, 
 as furs were ct-rtainly the iiiain topic of 
 conve, .sation. Kdm(»nto:i may in time 
 «ln-elop the oasis upon which it is built, 
 i)etween the arid plains immediale'y to 
 tlie .south ;ind the n'-eat lone 
 land to the north, into some- 
 thing notal)ly agricultural; 
 but for many years the 
 town will l)e, as it is today, 
 the gateway of the well- 
 nigh boundless fur-producing 
 country to the north, and 
 the outlet for tli*' number- 
 less "l)acks" gathered by 
 the great Hudson 15ay C'om- 
 l)any. 
 
 And what a company is 
 this I — witli the power of a 
 king and ibti consideration 
 of a partner. A monopoly 
 that does not monopolize, it 
 stands alone a unique (igure 
 
 13 
 
 WINNO'EO DRAGOON. 
 
 WAPITI-HUNTER. 
 
 SAKcIlK ItKl.l.K. 
 
 in the commercial history of 
 the world. (Jiveii itschai'ter 
 by the impecunious Charles 
 II. in 1(570. the pioneers of 
 this "(Jovernor and Com- 
 pany of Adventurers of Eng- 
 land Trading into Hudson's 
 Bay "sailed for the soulhci-n 
 shores of St. .lames Bay. 
 where they set up their lirst 
 post and took ))ossession of 
 the new country in the name; 
 of Prince Rupert. 1 lere they 
 found a rival French com- 
 l)any, with a ])revious char- 
 ter granted by Louis XIII., 
 and an equally keen .sense 
 of Indian barter, .so that for 
 many years there was more lighting than 
 trading. When Wolfe, on the Heights 
 of Abi-aham. crushed the power of France 
 in C*ana(la, the French company entered 
 upon a decline that linally ended in dis- 
 solution. But in their stead came numbers 
 of Fnglislimen. i)ushing their way west- 
 ward, eager to trade for the furs of which 
 they had heard so much and seen so little. 
 Thus many trading- posts came into being, 
 and eventually ("about 1780) combined to 
 form the Northwest Fur Company, the 
 longest-lived and most determined rival 
 that ever disputed trade with the Hudson 
 Bay Company. It is not my i)urpose to 
 fill space with liistorical research, but a 
 
14 
 
 IIAIM'KKS NKW MONTHLY MAGAZIXK. 
 
 1 
 
 iirif'f skclrli (if this «'(iiiiiiiiiy. iiiitl liow it 
 <'amo ill tin? laud, is iicci-ssiiry to a inoprr 
 iiM(lt'i'staiiiliiijif III" tin- <'<iiiiilry into wliidi 
 1 Inipi' III carrv fln' n-aiiti'. 
 
 TIk- IIuiImim |>ay ('niii|)aiiy lia<l iml 
 fi'a<'iH'(l (iiil to a vci-y ;:rcal cxtciil, itciiiy 
 (•(iMli'iil witii IJM' riir yalln'i'f(l i)y tlicir 
 half (lii/.i'ii ■■ faclorics," of wliicli YorU 
 l''ai'|iii'y and ( 'limcliill were llii- cai'lii'st 
 and imunI iiiiporlanl. I'nl tin' Nni'lliucsl 
 Coiiipaiiy l)r()ii<,'lit a in'\v spirit into lln- 
 cuiiiitry : tin-y pn-^scd l'urtra<l<' with sndi 
 avidity anti dflcrniiiiatioii as to cany 
 
 
 ..,.'4<flP'^ 
 
 '. •-•. 
 
 SAUCKK AXl) SylAW "AT 'lO.MK. 
 
 tiit'iii into parts liillicrto ciitirc-ly un- 
 kiKtwn, and cause Ijloodsiu'd 'Aiicnovcr 
 tlicy UH't \\\v. aiicuts of tnc rival coni- 
 paiiy. Il was the yrccd t'oi- tradf. in- 
 deed, that. (|aickened the steps of tin.' 
 lirst adveiiturei's into the silent, frozen 
 land of the North. Samuel Ileanie. the 
 lirst. white man to pass heyoiid (Jreat 
 Slave Lake, made his trip in 170!) by 
 order of the Hiulson l>ay Company, 
 and in search of copper-mines. It was 
 in i)ursuance of tradt? for the North- 
 west Company that Alexander ^[ackenzie 
 (1789) penetrated to the Arctic Ocean 
 
 (low II the river which hears his name. | 
 have never heeii ahle to see the justice 
 
 ill ll omiiiand that •cave .Mackenzie a 
 
 kni^^hthood and i<rnore(l Ileariio. The 
 Litter '.s trip was really a most reinarkah'" 
 one overland a ureal part, and alwav: 
 the iiKU-e «lilli<-ult. Mackenzie's trip, as 
 compared with it. reads like a .sumiiKu* 
 days pleasurin;^'. 
 
 l"'or forty years these tw iiipanie.s 
 
 traded with the Indians, and foui>-hl one 
 another at v\i-\'\ opp<u'tuuity, mejniwhile 
 pushin;;' their posts farlher and farlh'-r 
 into the interior: hul in 
 IS"j| a compromi>e was 
 eil'ected, all ainal;;aina 
 lion resulted, and the 
 iludstui r>ay Company 
 reiened supreme. And 
 so it has continued to 
 reiyn ever since ; for 
 thoU{j;h it retired from 
 the <roveriiment of Kii- 
 pi'i'ls Land in 187(1. and 
 liaiuh'd it over to the 
 l)omini(Hi of Canada for 
 i:;i(i(l.()()0 sterliiiff, yet, so 
 far as the country is con- 
 cerned of which Kdmoii- 
 Ion is the dislrihiiting' 
 p. )iiit, the Hudson Hay 
 ( "ompaiiy is as much the 
 ruhu- ill fact as ever it 
 was in law. lint this 
 particular .section, exten- 
 sive as it is, is only one 
 of the many in which, 
 from end to end of Brit- 
 ish North America, this 
 company counts a I to<;eth- 
 
 v,ui* J, -. ''I' somethin;,'' like two 
 
 hundred tradiii^r - jiosts. 
 Nor are furs its sole 
 commodity; from Mon- 
 treal to Vii 'oria alone' the 
 Canadian Pacilic Railroad, and at the 
 centres of tin' iiidian countries in which 
 they trade, may he .seen the 'stores* of 
 the Hudson Bay Comiiany. ltsi;2.(Kl().(l(X> 
 sterling;' capital stock is owned in Lon- 
 don, hut tin- i)iisine.ss of the vast corpora- 
 lion is o|)eiate(l from Wiiinipeji'. with 
 " Commissionei' " C. C. Chipman as its 
 executive head. 
 
 One surprise at least awaited me at 
 Edmonton. I had exiiected — I will be 
 more honest, and say 1 had hoped — Ed- 
 monton would jirove to he a hit untamed 
 and picturesque. Tiu' realization of ho- 
 
 
'.<< liJH iiaiii)-. I 
 
 Hc« lln' jiislici- 
 
 (' .MacUciizir :i 
 
 Ilfiinio. Tlif 
 
 ft. and III way.'. 
 • •ii/.ic's trip, as 
 iUf :i Miiiiiiicr 
 
 wo com panics 
 nd l'(iii;4'lil one 
 ity. ini'an wliilc 
 I'l- .-ind fai'lli'-r 
 ilci'ioi': liMl ill 
 inproinis(f was 
 n ainal;:aina 
 U.'d. and liio 
 iay Company 
 ipfcmc. And 
 
 i'oMliniK'd U> 
 r siiicr ; for 
 
 rolii'cd from 
 timt'iil of l{u- 
 l in 187(1. and 
 
 over tit the 
 of Canada for 
 oi'liiif;', y«'l. .so 
 'onntry is con- 
 tvliicli Kdmoii- 
 1' dislril)iitiiiy 
 
 Hudson ]]:iy 
 s as miu'li tiie 
 lot as over it 
 w. lint tliis 
 section, exteii- 
 s, is only «tno 
 ny in wliicli, 
 o end of liril- 
 Ainei'ica, tliis 
 mntsallo<>etli- 
 
 ny like two 
 
 radiii<r - posts. 
 
 ni-s its sole 
 from Mon- 
 
 oria aloii}^' tlie 
 
 , and at the 
 
 ries in wliicli 
 e *• stores " of 
 
 ltsi;2.0()().()0() 
 viied in liOii- 
 
 vast c'orpora- 
 iniiipc<j;-. with 
 
 ipman as its 
 
 vailed me at 
 d — I will be 
 1 hoped— Ed- 
 hit untamed 
 i/ation of bo- 
 
 i 
 
 .1 
 
 JtVi^r^ l^O^'.. t»^ 
 
 HKKAKI.Mi A TKAIL FOK THE UOU9. 
 
 iii(f oil this (*aiiadiuti froiili(>r raised mem- 
 ories of oilier frontier days across ihe line, 
 when Colorado and New Mexico were wild 
 and woolly, and tiie atmosphere was con- 
 tinuously i)uiiclured by cowboy whoops 
 and leaden pellets. Edmonton, however, 
 never passed throu<.fh such a period of 
 real exhilaration. It had its days of way- 
 wardness, but its diversions were e.xceed- 
 iiij;ly commonplace. A few years ayo it 
 was almost surrounded by the iiattlinff- 
 ffround of the Crees ami Jilaciifeel, and. 
 as a matter of cour.se. harliored red as well 
 as white renegades; there was little law. 
 
 and that little was not respected ; Indians 
 out in the country kille»l oil" their foes 
 from ambush, and in town rcneyades re- 
 vealed their coward's blood and lack of 
 orifjiiiality i»y stabbing tiieir enemi<'s in 
 the back. There were none of those 
 blood-stirring niglits in town such as we 
 used to haveon our own frontier; no duels 
 on the main thoroughfare between two 
 prominent citi/.ens, uilh th(> remaining 
 population standing by to see fair i)lay; 
 no cowboys to ride into .saloons and shoot 
 out the lights; no marksmen so expert as 
 to knock llie neck ofl' the whiskey-bottle 
 
 A 
 
 ^f.! 
 
 ^s*^"' 
 
 'ff ^tjlf 
 
 M^ 
 
 m: 
 
 )ft.,*.fr5«' 
 
 '^r=*^=*?:«*^^' 
 
 AN ENCAMPME.NT NEAR CALGARY. 
 
IH 
 
 HAKI'KltS NKW MONTHLY MVCA/INK. 
 
 1 
 
 A MKDifiNK mxn's r.f)nriK. 
 
 wiTslliiiy Willi liiiiisclf 
 afU'f ii lioiil w illi ■ 10 
 
 plonf."" 
 
 Iiidfcd, u lini I >.»'| mil. 
 llii' iiHiniiiiy after my 
 ai'i'iviil. Id i:rl ill! in rradi 
 ii<'>N ill lli<> one (liiy thai 
 \vi' iiiiylil niak*' IIm* slarl 
 lor La<- La l!ic)i<' on llic 
 sccoiiti. I (lonlili'd if iIk' 
 cilizj'iis liad ever heard <»f 
 lh<' word ■■ iiiiNlh'," J liad 
 hci n th'layed in h-aviiiy 
 New VoiU. (h'layeil in 
 having; to stop over al. 
 Winnipeg lo ;;('l lellers 
 olCredil rroni llie Hudson 
 l>ay Company, and now 
 I had iinally reached thi; 
 t'loiilier, I was delermin- 
 ed lo he dela ye«l n<» hnijier 
 if ellorl of mine woiihl 
 provide a;:aiiisl il. FirsI, 
 '" " the sin>ps did not 
 
 l)rivale l)urym<i;'-}rroiind. lliis is iiol a I lancied due to a eh>uded sU.v. At last the 
 
 dislinelion without a ditVerence, as those shops and Iho sun opened for liie «hi.v, 
 
 wilii frontier experience will bear me out. and I siicceeih-d in ectliny every one «»ii 
 
 I fouiitl Kdmonton settled into ii steady- the move. Still, we should not have 
 
 ji'oiiiti- business community, with maii.v been able to }^et awa.v nexM day, I am 
 
 hotels and few saloons, and the most sure, but for the consideration of the 
 
 excitiii<f siylit 1 beheld during my two Hudson Hay ( 'oiii))any factor. Mr. Li vock. 
 
 nights and a day stop was a freiglitcr and bis chief aid. Mr. K'eiinard. who were 
 
 (JOINf; K(iU AN .\l"rKKX(H)N 1)UI\K AT KllM(iNTn\. 
 
ON SNOW SlloKS TO TlIK l!AKi:i:N (iUOLNDS. 
 
 17 
 
 witli liiiii.si'ir 
 ituiit with "ID 
 
 wllCIl I Sft Mllf, 
 
 liny iil'lcr my 
 I yet iill ill I'l-adi- 
 
 K' )IM*< (lilV llllll 
 IM.-lUc till- Still-I 
 
 .a lliclir on I hi' 
 ihiiihli'd if Ihi- 
 III cv rr heard nt" 
 ' hiisth'." J had 
 yi'd ill Iraviiiy 
 •|<. drJM.vi'tl ill 
 I .slop (iviT at 
 ;• to yet h'ttcrs 
 niii thi> ] liidsoii 
 paii.v. and now 
 illy ri-achi'd lim 
 
 was (h'lmiiin 
 ■layrd no loiiycr 
 of mint' would 
 ;ainst it. First, 
 ' shops did not. 
 id 1, I'orjictl'iil of 
 he sun in winter 
 I'orr that hour, 
 lit tlir stri'i'ts in 
 iny out ofdoors, 
 sky. At last the 
 h1 for till' day, 
 <X ^'\^^'\•\^ one on 
 oiild not hav(; 
 icxt (hiy, J am 
 (■ration (tf tho 
 tor. Ml'. IJvocU. 
 
 Hard, who were 
 
 kind I'lioiiu-li lo ni'ul''"'! lln-ir hii-^iin'ss to 
 iitli'iid to mini-. Til"' oin' happy stroUf 
 we had niadi' was in ciiooHiny I hr (t)iH'i'n's 
 fur our lioli>l; it wa> i|iiiii- hapha/.ard, 
 IhiI vi'iy lin-ky. Ili-ri' 1 I'oiuid tiirhfst 
 hiiaiil to whii-li I had i-vi-r sal down 
 in a ri'onlii-r town, and ho^t and hoslrss 
 that did nioi'c for nn- during'' my sojourn 
 than I III* l>ill show«-d or I could repay. 
 
 If such Hij>'nH wore trust worthy. I should 
 liavc hi en much clatcil over the aiispi 
 cioiis weather that ruled on the day of our 
 departure for I/i Ihche. Truly it was a 
 beautiful inorniny. with the temp' ratiire 
 home twenty deyiees l»eh)W zero, and a 
 
 not for ii |»icnic. I knew perfectly well 
 that I could not carry in a >iillicient sup 
 ply to last until I h.td covered tiie '.((lO 
 niile> that la\ helw me aiiiM inat Slave 
 
 Lake, hecaiise uf the imp" 'smIu lit > I'l se- 
 curing enoiiyli doijs and sledires to fn liihl 
 it, and I Knew that even if I cmihl eal as 
 a civ ili/ed mail until I reached I ha I point, 
 I should he oltliyed. when I lH'::aii my 
 journey iiitn ihe ISarirn (Jrouiids. lo 
 ahaiiihui all hope of eiiliii;; well, or even 
 plentifully, and live or >laive as do the 
 Indians on their annual hunt in that 
 ri'trioii. Mesides. the ;4realest essential to 
 Ihii success of iiiy trip wa.s speed. 1 liad 
 
 OVV FOK LAC LA BICUK. 
 
 glorious sun, which touched the ice cov- 
 ered bushes and trees with sparkliiiy hrill- 
 iaiK'v; and when we started on our 175- 
 mile drive, all (^iiieeu's Hotel, and. 1 
 judyeil, half the town, tui'iied out to 
 bid us (lod -.speed. We h.td two yood 
 liorsi's and a strong' box sleiuh. and our 
 hiad was not heavy, so that 1 expected to 
 make <fOod time. I had tal<eii only enough 
 ])i'ovisioiis from Ivlmoiilon to l.ist us to 
 La Hiciie. There was iiiiich that 1 could 
 have taivcii. of coiu'se. in tlie way of 
 c.inni'd veLi'elables. meats, elc. and which 
 iniyht have s:ived me from many ;i meal 
 of the oftentimes unpalatable stull' which 
 I secured from post to post. Diit I was 
 goiii},'' into the country for a purpose, and 
 
 set out to make my bisonhunt, to "■et into 
 the Barren ({rounds for tlu' musk-ox, and 
 yet back ayaiii to (Jrejit Slave l^ake on 
 .snow-shoes — an uii<lerti.kiny that had 
 never before been attempted, and win- ! 
 evei'v one assured me I could n()t caiiv 
 out. It meant snow shoeing nearly HKK 
 miles, and left no time for leisurely Irav- 
 elliny, but I w:.s determined t<> ■•iccom- 
 ]disli what I had planned if it lay williin 
 human possihihties: and thus it w:is that 
 we took no unnecessary freight from VA 
 nioiitoii. for ci vi li/ed food is so considered 
 in that ereat Norili hind. Tob.-icco w;is 
 the only article of which I look a great- 
 er supply: but tol)acco is ii. I considered 
 freiiiht uplhere; it is always a solace, and 
 
 I 
 
18 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 I 
 
 becomes on occasion a .stimulant wIkmi 
 there is no meat, and an irresistible lure 
 to facilitate intircourse with the Indians. 
 It was well we had a stout sleigli, for, 
 much to my astonishment, the snow 
 seemed not more than a foot de.ip :iny- 
 where, while in the road it had been worn 
 down by much travel, and the rocks were 
 numerous and agj^ressive. We made 
 twenty-two miles by noon of the first day, 
 and took our dinner at Fort Saskatche- 
 wan, tiie most northerly post of the North- 
 west Mounlcd Police. Up to this point 
 of tlie day's journey tiie road had been 
 plain, and the country not unpleasant to 
 the eye. In fact, in some ])arts it is 
 rather ])retty, of a <;eneral rolling- char- 
 acter, fringed with small timber, mostly 
 of the p()j)kir variety, though pine is fair- 
 ly abundant. It looks like, and is, in 
 trutli, a grazing country more especially, 
 though the horses and cattle I saw (')( 
 route were rather jjoor — a (condition to be 
 ])r(>bably e.xpecUnl in aland where every- 
 thing is new and the .settlers lead a hand- 
 to mouth e.\istence, as all settlers do. An 
 Edmonton enthusiast— I think he 
 nnist have had property for sale 
 — assured me with great gusto 
 that the land around that town 
 would yield from 35 to 75 bush- 
 els of wheat to the acre, and 
 from 100 to 200 bushels of oats, 
 the latter weighing 42 jjounds to 
 the bushel; the timber, however, 
 lie acknowledged " wasn't much 
 to brag on." 
 
 The one well-defined road we 
 had been following all day broad- 
 ened out towards sunset into a 
 valley, showing in turn several 
 depressions in the snow — here 
 much deeper — which we assumed 
 to be roads. No one at Saskatch- 
 ewan was able to direct us intel- 
 ligently, and not a .soul had been 
 seen since leaving there from 
 whom we could ask our way. 
 Grier.son, who was driving us, 
 and who is one of the Queen's 
 Hotel proprietors, had never before been 
 over the road, but his bump of direction 
 was well placed and abnormally develop- 
 ed. People in this country do not seem 
 to consider knowledge of the rouls neces- 
 sary to reaching their destinatioi. They 
 .just start oft" on the one main and almost 
 only trail, which they follow to its end, 
 when thev continue on in the direction 
 
 G^Wfi 
 
 r8< 
 
 ONE DP TIIK 
 FIKST STKKI, 
 
 KNrVKS 
 
 TItADKI) TO 
 
 INDIANS. 
 
 of their objective jmint. Roads are few 
 and far between in this .section, and dis- 
 appear altogether when you get one hun- 
 dred miles north of Edmonton. The al- 
 leged road to La Biche, which bears to 
 the east of north, is the longest, and the 
 end; beyond, all travel is by dogs in win- 
 ter and canoe in summer. Grier.son knew 
 that Beaver Lake Creek was the point we 
 were booked to reach that night in order 
 to make La Biche in three days' travel 
 from Edmonton, and he was sure it lay 
 to the northeast. So we ])egg('d on, until 
 iinally, after chasing several lights that 
 turned out to be the wrong ones, and once 
 nothing less lofty than a planet, which in 
 this far North hung near the horizon, we 
 found tlielog cabin of Beaver LakeCreek's 
 most distinguished settler. I say distin- 
 guished, because his was the only cabin 
 in those parts which boasted of two rooms 
 and a second story — an extravagance, he 
 informed us, he had indulged in with the 
 idea of one day, when the section in which 
 he had located became more populous, 
 putting a slock of niercliandise into the 
 "other room," and utilizing the top story 
 as a dormitory for travellers. I con- 
 cluded he was a host of discernment, with 
 a delicate humor for inciting reform in 
 his guests without offending their pre- 
 viously conceived .sense of })ropriet3', for, 
 having refreshed myself in about one 
 and a half inches of ice-water, I was con- 
 fronted by this black-lettered legend on 
 the cabin door: "Bad luck attend the 
 man that wipes his nose on the towel." 
 
 We left the i)ioneer of Beaver Tail 
 Creek's "400" next morning before the 
 sun was up, and by one o'clock had gone 
 thirty-eight miles to Victoria, on the Sas- 
 katchewan River. It is the site of a 
 Hudson Bay Company trading-post, and 
 the end of the telegraph line. Once 
 past here, the most rapid means of com- 
 munication is the "express," as the In- 
 dian runner is called. To me, as sports- 
 man, the most interesting feature of Vic- 
 toria was the fact of its being about the 
 northern limit of wapiti in this particular 
 part of the continent. Formerly, in the 
 days of the bison, wapiti were numerous, 
 parl'cularly near the Battle River, but, al- 
 though they have not entirely disajipear- 
 ed, they are not now plentiful, and are to 
 be had only by the most skilful hunters. 
 Because of this the Indians living near 
 Victoria resort to every manner of device 
 for a .shot, but with inditt'ei'ent success. 
 
 I 
 
 
 O 
 
 % 
 
 o 
 d 
 § 
 
 O 
 
 > 
 O 
 n 
 
Roads are fow 
 .section, and dis- 
 .ou get one liuii- 
 lonlon. Tlie al- 
 wliioli l)ear.s to 
 longest. :ind tlie 
 ; by dogs in win- 
 Griei'son knew 
 vas tlie ])oint we 
 it night in order 
 iree days' travel 
 was siii-e it lay 
 l)egg<'d on, until 
 eral lights that 
 g ones, and once 
 l)lanet, which in 
 the liorizon. we 
 ver Lake Creek s 
 1'. I say distin- 
 the only cabin 
 -ed of two rooms 
 xtruvagance, he 
 Iged in with the 
 section in which 
 more populous, 
 andise into the 
 tig- the top story 
 ellers. I con- 
 scerninent,Avith 
 iting reform in 
 ding tlieir pre- 
 l)roi>i'iety, foi-. 
 in about one 
 ater, I was con- 
 ered legend on 
 nek attend the 
 n the towel." 
 )f Beaver Tail 
 ing before the 
 clock had gone 
 ria, on the Sas- 
 the site of a 
 uling-post, and 
 line. Once 
 means of com- 
 ss," as the In- 
 me, as sports- 
 feature of Vic- 
 'ing about the 
 this i)arlicular 
 )rnierly, in the 
 ere numerous. 
 River, but, al- 
 rely disappear- 
 iful, and are to 
 vilful hunters. 
 IS living near 
 nner of device 
 ent success. 
 
el 
 
 pl| 
 evj 
 
 prJ 
 
 bol 
 
 ws 
 
 or I 
 
 pei| 
 
 to 
 
 coil 
 
 bul 
 
 to 
 
 leal 
 
 poll 
 
 thj 
 
 sta 
 
 ing 
 
 reli 
 
 if 
 
 tra 
 
 con 
 
 sha 
 
 not 
 
 the 
 
 to 
 
 the 
 
 my 
 
 tnal 
 
 resc 
 
 cou 
 
 hor 
 
 giv 
 
 ets, 
 
 not 
 
 rie( 
 
 am 
 
 pre 
 
 era 
 
 a o 
 
 mo 
 
 oui 
 
 stil 
 
 for 
 
 we 
 
 she 
 
 res 
 
 tea 
 
 gli 
 ha 
 
 we 
 bIu 
 lin 
 ne 
 uu 
 Th 
 
i 
 
 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 5?1 
 
 This was our longest day's drive, for we 
 had made very close to eighty miles by 
 eleven o'clock at night, when we camp- 
 ed, and the road, or rather the multi- 
 plicity of roads, of the afternoon proved 
 even more perplexing than on the day 
 previous. Our direction lay along the 
 border of a Cree Indian reservation, and 
 was cross-sectioned at times with trails, 
 or at least what in the snow had the ap- 
 pearance of trails, running 
 to the four points of the 
 compass. We knew we had 
 but one point of the compass 
 to follow — of that much, at 
 least, we were sure, and pro- 
 portionately thankful — but 
 that point seemed to be such 
 a broad one we were con- 
 stantly at a loss for our bear- 
 ings. I should be very much 
 relieved to know positively 
 if there was indeed any 
 trail taking a northeasterly 
 course that escaped us, and 
 shall always regret I did 
 not return by that route in 
 the spring on my way back 
 to the railroad, and when 
 the snow had disappeared, just to satisfy 
 my curiosity on that score. We were 
 making for the White-Fish Lake Indian 
 reservation, where we had been told we 
 could find feed and a covering for the 
 horses, and a schoolmaster who would 
 give us a place to throw down our blank- 
 ets, and the best of his larder. We were 
 not concerned for ourselves, for we car- 
 ried enough to provide a substantial meal, 
 and, I think, all three of us would have 
 preferred sleeping in the open to the av- 
 erage cabin. But the mercury had fallen 
 a great many degrees since leaving Ed- 
 monton, a cutting wind was blowing, and 
 our horses were pretty well worn, with 
 still forty-five miles to go the next day be- 
 fore reaching La Biche. This was why 
 we pushed on, hoping every turn would 
 show the light in the distance that meant 
 rest for us and an extra feed for our 
 team. We finally reached some strag- 
 gling cabins of the reservation, but should 
 have been searching for that light yet if 
 we had not roused an Indian from his 
 slumbers, whom Grierson, by some start- 
 ling Cree vocalization, the like of which I 
 never heard before nor since, at length 
 made understand what we were after. 
 Then this drowsy child of nature led the 
 
 Vol. XCII.— No. 547.-2 
 
 THK COPPER KKTTI.B IN WHICH WE 
 
 BIIEWBU TKA FOll TWENTY-SIX 
 
 UUNDBEU UILK8. 
 
 way to a schoolmaster, but not to the 
 schoolmaster we had been seeking, whose 
 house was a few miles farther on, we 
 subsequently learned. 
 
 The schoolmaster we found was a 
 study in filth. He lived like a dog in a 
 wretched kennel, and talked like a cock- 
 ney Englishman; indeed, he confided to 
 me, the following morning, that he liad 
 come from London, and was living there 
 chiefly to learn the Cree lan- 
 guage, that he might later 
 preach "Jesus to the way- 
 ward heathen." Meanwhile 
 he was educating him. This 
 cockney's one idea of educa- 
 tion seemed summed up in 
 the single word coercion. If 
 the Indians gathered for the 
 dances of their tribe, he scat- 
 tered them ; if they played 
 the games of their child- 
 hood, he stopped them ; if 
 they asked for reasons, he 
 told them it was the devil 
 in them that they exploited 
 and which he wished to 
 cast out. A logical way, 
 forsooth, of educating tlie 
 And this is why we find 
 the broken-spirited India' who realizes 
 he is the creature of an all-powerful 
 master whose Avays he cannot under- 
 stand, so often "converted," but onlj' in 
 individual cases educated and civilized. 
 He is "converted" because it requires 
 only outward acquiescence, and he finds 
 his material life made pleasanter there- 
 by. He is willing to change his " Great 
 Spirit" for the white man's "Great Spir- 
 it" when a few beads or an extra ration 
 make the trade inviting. But he can- 
 not be educated without being first civil- 
 ized, and he cannot be civilized because 
 in most cases the white man does not 
 know how, or does not find it to his 
 interest, to make the attempt in a ra- 
 tional way. At present he distrusts, and 
 sees only that he is being "civilized" 
 off the face of the earth, and remembers 
 the white man in his successive roles of 
 welcomed guest, greedy hunter, settler, 
 and exterminator. I am not dealing in 
 heroics, and every one knows that the 
 savage must disappear before the civil- 
 ized man ; but if we are to attempt the 
 civilization of those that remain let us 
 first endeavor to gain iheir confidence, 
 and then follow it up by methods which 
 
 ignorant! 
 
22 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 they can grasp. It is not to be done 
 in one season, nor in two; the civilized 
 red man cannot he l)ronglit forth fiill- 
 fled<,''ed, as from a patent incubator; ho 
 can ije evolved only after lonj,'' periods of 
 gradual and natural dtivelopnient; yet we 
 expect liy mere word of mouth to make 
 him i'or.sake the sentiments of a lifetime, 
 of generations of lifetimes. At the same 
 time he should realize there is a law in 
 the land which punishes and protects him 
 as thorouglily as it does the white man. 
 He should not he allowed to escape 
 with no severer penalty for furtive war- 
 path festivals tlian that of being merely 
 lierded back to his reservation, when 
 
 white men equal- 
 ly guilty would 
 be hanged or 
 shot. The surest 
 way of civilizing 
 the Indinn is 
 through his chil- 
 dren, and po.ssi- 
 bly theirchildren 
 in turn will cease 
 to remember that 
 once their ances- 
 tors roamed over 
 thecountryhmit- 
 ing, and learning 
 the lessons of 
 their common 
 mother Nature, 
 instead of living 
 fenced in on a res- 
 ervation, plough- 
 ing,and studying 
 the precepts of 
 the white man. 
 
 We left the 
 Indian reformer 
 early the next 
 morning, after a broken night's rest on 
 a dirtier iloor than, I think, I ever saw 
 in an Indian lodge. We must have 
 proved a blessing to that fellow, for we 
 put money in his i)urse, and such a meal 
 in his stomach as I fancy he had not had 
 for many a long day. The weather had 
 grown colder, and one of our horses gone 
 lame, but our big fur coats to keep out 
 tlie one, and mustang liniment to re- 
 lieve the other, put us in travelling shape. 
 We had broken our sleigh, and patched it 
 up again before we camped for our noon- 
 day meal in a squall of snow, but we had 
 covered by that time a good half of the 
 distance which the previous night sepa- 
 
 liLANKET CLOTHING OP TIIK EAItl.Y 
 
 WINTBIl, BBFOKB EXCKSSIVE 
 
 COLD OB.MAMDS FUUiJ. 
 
 rated us from our destination. As we 
 neared La Biche we renewed our troubles 
 over diverging roads, but this time our 
 direction was .so accurate that the delay 
 was inconsiderable. Moreover, there were 
 others abroad; for the morrow was New- 
 Year's, and Indians and half-breeds were 
 n)aking their w.iy to the company post to 
 partake of the feast which is provided for 
 them annually. They came from either 
 side, and fell into the now well -beaten 
 track wo were all travelling; men and 
 women, old and young, some walking, 
 but the majority riding in a sort of box 
 set upon runners, locally known as a 
 "jumper," a)id drawn by a nondescript 
 kind of beast which we discovered upon 
 close scrutiny to be an undersized, un- 
 derfed horse, but that more nearly re- 
 sembled an overgrown jack-rabbit. And 
 thus with the dying sun of the last day 
 of 1894 we made our entree into Lac La. 
 Biche with the gathering of the clans. 
 
 I do not believe I had ever been in a 
 more advanced state of exhilaration than 
 on first viewing the unsightly cabins of 
 the La Biche post. Farther along on my 
 trip I felt a deeper thankfulness, when 
 hope had almost fled, and mind and body 
 were too jaded to rejoice, but now I Avas 
 as a boy given an unexpected holiday, 
 who wanted to shout and throw his cap 
 into the air; for here at last I beheld the 
 actual frontier, and the real starting-point 
 of my journey. It was not that the trip 
 from Edmonton had been so long or so 
 hard, for, as a matter of fact, it was plea- 
 sant and easy, but it was the realization of 
 being on the scene of action, so to say. 
 When one has planned an adventure, 
 and discussed ways and means and dan- 
 gers, there is a satisfaction in reaching 
 the base of operations; and when one's 
 friends have tried to dissuade and na- 
 tives to intimidate you, there is added to 
 satisfaction that other feeling, which puts 
 you on edge, fires your blood, and makes 
 you keen to toe the mai-k and be otf. It 
 was a blessing I arrived in such a humor, 
 for it was sorely tried at La Biche during 
 the three vexing days we were compelled 
 to spend there. I had a premonition we 
 were going to run against a snag when I 
 saw Gairduer, the Hudson Bay Company 
 officer in charge, saunter out of his cabin 
 to greet us; and Wiien he asked if we were 
 not ahead of time, in a tone that implied 
 he would have been better pleased had A\e 
 been overdue, I felt convinced we weie 
 
 '9 
 
 s 
 
 a 
 b 
 n 
 
 St 
 
 h 
 ti 
 ol 
 tr 
 tl 
 
 u 
 a 
 th 
 us 
 
 y 
 
 a 
 
f 
 
 lation. As we 
 
 vei\ our troubles 
 
 t this time our 
 
 that tiie delay 
 
 over, there were 
 
 )rrow was New- 
 
 lalf-breeds were 
 
 jonipaiiy post to 
 
 1 is ijrovided for 
 
 inie from either 
 
 )w well -beaten 
 
 ling:; men and 
 
 some walking, 
 
 n a sort of box 
 
 y known as a 
 
 ,' a nondescript 
 
 liscovered ujion 
 
 undersized, un- 
 
 lore nearly re- 
 
 ;k-rabbit. And 
 
 of the last day 
 
 •ee into Lac La. 
 
 :)f the clans. 
 
 ever been in a 
 
 :hilaration than 
 
 ghtly cabins of 
 
 er along on my 
 
 ikfulness, when 
 
 mind and body 
 
 , but now I was 
 
 pected holiday, 
 
 throw his cap 
 
 ist I beheld the 
 
 stai'ting-point 
 
 ot that the trip 
 
 so long or so 
 
 ict, it was plea- 
 
 le realization of 
 
 tion, so to say. 
 
 an adventure, 
 
 cans and dan- 
 
 >n in reaching 
 
 d wlien one's 
 
 uade and na- 
 
 re is added to 
 
 ng, which puts 
 
 )od, and makes 
 
 ind be otf. It 
 
 such a hunioi', 
 
 a Biche during 
 
 ere compelled 
 
 remonition we 
 
 a snag when I 
 
 Bay Company 
 
 ut of his cabin 
 
 ked if we were 
 
 e that implied 
 
 leased had \\e 
 
 iced we weie 
 
 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 going to be delayed. We were a day in 
 advance of our schedule, having taken 
 but three instead of four days from Ed 
 monton. but as an "express" had been 
 sent Gairdner two weeks before to warn 
 him of our arrival, and as the prepara- 
 tions were only the making of two pairs 
 of snow-shoes, and tlie engaging of two 
 trains of dogs and drivers, I could not see 
 that our coming was ill-timed. 
 
 I think, nevertheless, he was glad to see 
 us (especially Grierson, who had brought 
 along a flask), and he certainly shared 
 the best of his house with us. He told 
 us we had come at the best time of the 
 year to see the Indians; that they were 
 always given a feast and a dance on New- 
 Year's, and that some of them, hearing of 
 our arrival, would probably drop in that 
 night to dance a little for us. Well, 
 they did "drop in," and they as certainly 
 danced, though not a " little." Heavens ! 
 liow those creatures danced, and what an 
 atmosphere and a racket they created in 
 that house I They began to arrive .shortly 
 after we had finished supper, shaking 
 hands with us solemnly on entrance, and 
 eying us stealthily after seating them- 
 selves in rows against the walls. Then 
 one of them produced a fiddle, and from 
 the time the first measure was .sounded, I 
 think there was no cessation until about 
 two o'clock the following morning. 
 
 For a while the exhibition was rath- 
 
 23 
 
 AX EDMONTON FREIGHTER. 
 
 HALF-BREED DOG-DRIVER. 
 
 er interesting, though never very novel. 
 The common dancing of Indians appears 
 to be about the same all over; there is 
 but one type, though it may assume dif- 
 ferent expressions, accoi'diiig to prejudice 
 or locality. Either they sliuffle around 
 In a circle, or tliey hop from one foot to 
 the other in lines or .separately, or they 
 do all three, with more or less vigor and 
 with or without costuming. At La Biche 
 the dancing is not of the Indian type, it 
 is of the kind one sees in the half-breed 
 camps of Canada, and consists of a species 
 of jigs and reels gone thi./ugh at a pace 
 that makes you dizzy only to watch. They 
 have their dances where several couples 
 perform, but the most ])opular seemed that 
 in which separate couplesengaged, as nmny 
 as the floor would accommodate. These 
 face one another, and the man enters upon 
 a vigorous exploitation of the double- 
 shuffle, which he varies with "pigeon 
 wings," and Heaven knows what not, al- 
 ways making the greatest noise of which 
 he is capable. Noise and endurance, I 
 was given to understand, are the two 
 requisites to good dancing; but men and 
 women of course wear moccasins, and 
 only on occasion have board floors to 
 dance on. It was my luck to happen 
 along at one of those " occasions," and to 
 be further tortured by a half-breed com- 
 pany .servant, whose great pride was a 
 
24 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ONK 
 
 heavy pair of white man's hoots, which 
 lie never wore except when threadin<f the 
 giddy maze. 
 
 Half-breeds— French and Cree— consti- 
 tute the larger share of population at La 
 Biche, if I may class as its population 
 tiiose scattered over the immediately sur- 
 rounding country, and wliere the settle- 
 ment consists of just 
 three cabins besides 
 the Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany's. But, after 
 all, the French l)lood 
 reveals itself chiefly 
 in a few Christian 
 names and in the 
 more fanciful color- 
 ing and use of some 
 articles of wear, for 
 tiiere is little French 
 spoken, the children 
 of mixed parentage 
 
 almost invariably adopting the mother- 
 tongue, Cree. There are not more than 
 one hundred Crees who come into La 
 Biche, which is the most northerly post 
 where treaty money is given, and they 
 are not thriving to any very great extent, 
 nor increasing. Tlie annuity of about 
 five dollars a head is not sutlicient. to sup- 
 port and just enough to interrupt keen 
 hunting; they plant a few potatoes, which 
 grow here fairly well, but are making no 
 ])rogress towards self-su))port, as are those 
 of the same nation more to the .south. 
 
 After wiuit I liad seen the night before 
 of the preliminaries to the annual feast- 
 day, I did not expect on New- Year's to be 
 able to make any jjreparations for our 
 further progress. Long before we had 
 turned out of our blankets the house was 
 il*.erally packed with Indians, and by noon- 
 time the fiddle was going and the dancers 
 had entire possession of the floor. I 
 doubt if I ever saw, outside of some of 
 the Ciiinese dens in San Francisco, so 
 many crowded into the same space. I 
 lacked the heart to talk business with 
 Gairdner, who, I divined from some of 
 his remarks, had not accompli&^t'l, in the 
 way of making ready our dog brig^ j, all 
 I had expecteu of him. I simply pitied 
 him for the unpleasant and malodorous 
 fulness of his home, and I pitied his half- 
 breed wife and her daughters, who were 
 kept cooking for and feeding half-starved 
 Indians from early morn until late into 
 the night. Heming took his pencil and 
 scratch pad and I my camera, and we 
 
 MADm BEAVBU" TOKKN, FOIIMEIU.Y ISSUED 
 BY TIIK HUDSON BAY COMPANY. 
 
 went out to see the New-Year'sday ar- 
 rivals and the dogs and the Indians. 
 
 In froiit of the fort's stockade were 
 gossi])ing groups that grew with each 
 fresh arrival, .vhile scattered all about 
 the enclosure, just where their drivers 
 had left them, were the dog trains of the 
 Indians .ho had come to fill Gairdner's 
 
 house and eat the 
 Hudson Bay Compa- 
 ny's meat. There 
 was no stabling nor 
 feasting for these 
 dogs; in a <J4° below 
 zero atmosphere they 
 stretched out in the 
 snow and waited, 
 without covering, 
 and in many cases 
 without food. The 
 Indians with their 
 blanket coats or ca- 
 potes, and the dogs and sledges and "jump- 
 ers," made a picturesque whole against 
 the unbroken background of snow, but, 
 like all Indian i)ictures, its attractiveness 
 faded away on the close inspection that 
 discovered the dirt of the man, and the 
 scraggy, half -starved condition of the 
 beast. These people had never before 
 seen a camera, and many of my plates 
 show them scurrying away or turning 
 their backs. It was only after the most 
 elaborate descriptions to Gairdner, who 
 instructed ihe interpreter, who explained 
 to the Indians, that we induced one or 
 two "types" to sit in our presence while 
 Heming sketched them. They thought 
 we were making "medicine" against 
 them, but were won over by Heming 
 drawing the moose and caribou, while 
 they watched the animals they knew so 
 well develop undei* his pencil. 
 
 When we returned to the house the 
 dance was still on; it was always "on" 
 during the first thirty-six hours of our 
 stay at La Biche. Formerly the Hud- 
 son Bay Company officers merely " re- 
 ceived" on New- Year's day; but as the 
 Indians have a custom between sexes 
 of kissing on meeting, and as it did not 
 become an impartial officer to distinguish 
 in this respect between old women and 
 young, unattractive and attractive, the 
 feast was substituted; so now the women 
 are fed and danced instead of being kissed. 
 I hope that New- Year's night will not 
 be recorded against me. Those Indians 
 danced until four o'clock in the morniiig. 
 
 B 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 St 
 H 
 
 ► 
 6D* 
 
 o 
 
 > 
 
 Hi 
 
!w-Year'sday ar- 
 the Indians. 
 s stockade were 
 grew with eacli 
 ttered all about 
 3re their drivers 
 dog trains of the 
 to fill Gairdner's 
 se and eat the 
 ilson Bay Compa- 
 5 meat. There 
 ; no stabling nor 
 iting for these 
 s; in a Z^° below 
 ) atmosphere they 
 tched out in the 
 w and waited, 
 liout covering, 
 . in many cases 
 liouu food. The 
 ians with their 
 iiket coats or ca- 
 Bdgesand "jump- 
 le whole against 
 nd of snow, but, 
 its attractiveness 
 e inspection that 
 ^he man, and the 
 condition of the 
 ad never before 
 ny of my plates 
 iway or turning 
 y after the most 
 Gairdner, wlio 
 r, who explained 
 induced one or 
 |r presence while 
 They thought 
 dicine " against 
 er by Heming 
 caribou, while 
 Is they knew so 
 ncil. 
 the house the 
 s always "on " 
 X hours of our 
 erly the Hud- 
 rs merely " re- 
 ay; but as the 
 between sexes 
 id as it did not 
 r to distinguisli 
 Id women and 
 attractive, tlie 
 ow the women 
 of being kissed, 
 night will not 
 Those Indians 
 n the morning. 
 
 4 
 
 
 o 
 
 n 
 
 H 
 
 C 
 
 ► 
 se 
 
 ► 
 
86 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 and they ihiiiccd to iiiv utter (](>iii()r:iliza- 
 ti«)n. We sat arouiul and waiclied the 
 "gymnastics" and protcndt'd we enjoyed 
 tlieni until about one o'clock ; then we re- 
 tired. We all three slept in Gairdner's 
 oflice, a tiny apartment .separated from 
 the main room by a thin l)oard partition, 
 of wliich a good quarter section in the 
 centre was removed to admit of the two 
 rooms sharing a single stove. There 
 wa • a ,:iece of loosened slieet-iron tacked 
 to the partition to protect it from the 
 lieat, and my liead was against that par- 
 tition, and our blankets on tlie t>atne Hoor 
 upon wliicli those Indians sprinted and 
 jumped and shufTled ! 
 
 New-Year's past and the liddle hung 
 up, 1 entered upon the business of our 
 getting under way for Fort McMurray, 
 
 NATIVE "SNOW-G.LASSES." 
 
 the next Hudson Bay post to the north, and 
 then indeed did the trouble begin. First 
 of all, Gairdner earnestly a.ssured me that 
 I could not make the trip I contempla- 
 ted, that I could not get into the Barren 
 Grounds, and would risk my life if I did, 
 and could not get Indians to accompany 
 me if I would. Then, after finding me 
 undismayed by the lugubrious prospect, 
 he informed me that he had not been 
 able to get matters ready, nor could lie 
 say how soon we could start. He had 
 first engaged two men, but both backed 
 out, one because he could not get four 
 dogs together, and the other because he 
 liad no house to put his wife in during 
 his absence. Finally he had .secured the 
 services of a half-breed called "Shot." 
 who, he said, was the best man in the 
 country, trustworthy and a good travel- 
 ler, and liad spoken to another half-breed, 
 who was just then struggling to make up 
 his mind. Added to tlrs pleasing intelli- 
 gence, the snow-shoes were being made 
 by an Indian who lived fifteen miles 
 
 away, and from whom nothing Imd been 
 heard. I thought we were at least sure 
 of "Shot"; l)ut the ne,\t day lie came to 
 us with a large story of his worth, the sac- 
 rifices he would make by going with us, 
 and wound up by refusing to budge un- 
 less we doubled the wages which lie and 
 Gairdnt." had agreed upon. 
 
 For the remainder of this and the next 
 day life was a burden to me. Gairdner 
 was absolutely of no use, as lie could 
 liave been by standing '-etween us and 
 the Indians ',n our business. I was 
 obliged to fake matters into my own 
 hands, and deal with '-'"'e wrangling Ind- 
 ians through an i;:torpreter. I finally 
 secured "Shot" on a compromise, in- 
 tending to take no other man, but drive 
 t<)e secon 1 train of dogs ourselves. Then 
 I had a time getting another four dogs 
 and sledge. First the owners would iiot 
 hire a train without their own engage- 
 ment (this after I had spent two days try- 
 ing to induce them to go with me!), then 
 no one man who had a complete train 
 could be found. At last I got two dogs 
 from one Indian and one dog each from 
 two dift'erent Indians. Meanwhile I was 
 waiting for "Shot," who was to come 
 prepared for the start as soon as the snow- 
 shoes were finished, and being worried 
 thin by the dog -owners' repeated visits 
 and their clamors for a new deal ; having 
 hired the dogs and sledge, they wanted me 
 to ]>a,j an additional fee for harness and 
 wrapper, or, if not, to give them a little 
 tea or tobacco or moccasins. I was in 
 constant dread lest their fickleness would 
 ' ventually deprive me of a train, and I 
 cirsed "Shot" roundly for his delay. 
 Meanwhile, too, Heming and I were con- 
 ditioning ourselves by some running ev- 
 ery afternoon, and had settled to the con- 
 viction that the hardest part of our trip 
 appeared to be the getting started. 
 
 At last on Friday, January 4tli, the im- 
 patiently awaited "Shot" arrived, with 
 his dogs and sledge in good condition, but 
 the sledge of the second train broken so 
 badly as to necessitate its repair before 
 starting. " Shot " had also brought with 
 him a young Cree Indian called John, 
 Avhom he recommended as a good runner, 
 and advised me to engage ; and afterwards, 
 when Heming fell ill, and John and I 
 pushed on into the country alone, I for- 
 gave "Shot " much of what I had harbor- 
 ed against him because of his bringing me 
 that Cree. It was noon before the sledge 
 
 I 
 
 
> / 
 
 nothing had been 
 were at least sure 
 xt day lie came to 
 his worth, the sac- 
 V eoiiiff with us, 
 sing- to budge ull- 
 ages which he and 
 >on. 
 
 this and the next 
 to nie. Gairdner 
 use, as he could 
 • ' »^tween us and 
 business. I was 
 rs into my own 
 e wrangling Ind- 
 preter. I finally 
 
 compromise, in- 
 3r man, but drive 
 ourselves. Then 
 notliei' four dogs 
 wners would liot 
 eir own engage- 
 en t two days try- 
 3 with me !), then 
 a complete train 
 it I got two dogs 
 le dog each from 
 Meanwhile I was 
 ho was to come 
 soon as the snow- 
 l being worried 
 ;' repeated visits 
 ewdeal; having 
 
 they wan ted me 
 for hai-ness and 
 them a little 
 sins. I was in 
 
 ckleness Avould 
 a train, and I 
 
 for his delay. 
 
 ind I were con- 
 
 ne running ev- 
 
 tled to the con- 
 
 »art of our trip 
 
 started. 
 
 ry 4th, the im- 
 ai-rived, with 
 condition, but 
 
 ain broken so 
 repair before 
 
 > brought with 
 called John, 
 
 - good runner, 
 
 id afterwards, 
 John and I 
 alone, I for- 
 
 |l had harbor- 
 bringing me 
 re the sledge 
 
 'in A 24° BELOW ZERO ATMOSPHERE THEY WAITED." 
 
 had been mended and we were ready to 
 begin packing up for the start. Our per- 
 sonal luggage consisted of a change of 
 shirts and heavy underwear, three silk 
 pocket-handkerchiefs, an extra pair of 
 Irish frieze trousers, a heavy woollen 
 sweater, stf-ut gloves to wear inside the 
 native-made mittens, two pairs of Hudson 
 Bay Company four-point blankets, a rab- 
 bit-skin robe (of native manufacture, and 
 very warm), blanket leggings, a caribou- 
 skin capote lined with blanket, a knitted 
 hood, a wor-sted tuque, "dutfel" socks 
 (native-made of a sort of blanket stuff, 
 two to three pairs being worn at a time 
 inside the moccasins), snow glasses, sev- 
 eral pairs of moccasins, hunting- knife, 
 strong clasp-knife, a 45.90 Winchester, 
 half-magazine, and 150 cartridges, pills, 
 and mustang liniment, • I had, besides, 
 a compass, my camera (in a strong zinc 
 box), note -books, and some iodoform, 
 antiseptic lorenges, and sterilized gauze 
 bandages, ^u case amputation because 
 
 of freezing became necessary. Our pro- 
 visions included bacon, tea, flour, and 
 a few pounds of potatoes Mrs. Gairdner 
 was kind enough to boil and mash and 
 freeze into a pan for us; our one luxury — 
 or rather mine, for Heniiiig does not smoke 
 — was tobacco. In all we had just 357 
 pounds, which I was careful to determine, 
 for I was sure "Shot" would be grum- 
 bling about the load, and swear we had 
 600 pounds on each sledge, and I wanted 
 to be prepared to meet him, as I had said 
 we .should go light purposely to make 
 good time. We took only one night's 
 fish for the dogs (dogs being fed fish in 
 this country in place of meat), because 
 Gairdner told us we should find plenty at 
 Hart Lake, which we would reach the 
 next night. Finally by tliree o'clock the 
 sledges were packed, "Shot" and John 
 had bade tender farewells to every man. 
 woman, and child about the post, Gaird- 
 ner and Grierson had wished us the best 
 of luck, and we began our journey. 
 
 LMMXi(%a->*^ 4' 
 
 A WOMAN S PORCUPINK-QUII.L BELT. 
 
i"..T 
 
 oil 
 sll 
 
 ClI 
 
 ai| 
 
 OH 
 
 lull 
 
 111 
 th 
 
 ' WELL, PHILIPPA ?" 
 
 See ** A Previous Engagenieuu*' 
 
I 
 
 TIIK rXITKI) STATUS NAVAL ACADhMV, 
 
 au7 
 
 
 Ivious Engagemeuu" 
 
 Um^ wiiy ill wliicli In' finplnys liis lime, 
 ;iiul ill'*' ill coiiM'iiiit'iKM! (•iijii)lt'(l frc([Ut'iit- 
 Iv to siivt! liiiM from iiimsclf. They, 
 nini'fovt'i', po.ssoss pt'culiai' ("iicilitios tor 
 lUiilviii^'' tli(! most of the iiii'ii intrusted to 
 llit'ir ciuirge. Witliout iulditioiial ex- 
 pciiso to till! ^^overiiiiKMit, tiiey can draw 
 on a practically unlimited force of in- 
 structors. Tlirou^fh this aj,'eiicy they can 
 re enforco the steady pressure of that t,'en- 
 eral cdiu'atioiial drill ^fiven to tlu; wliolo 
 class with an attention to the <,''uidanco 
 and devtdopment of the individual mem- 
 hers helonj^iny to it whicii it is utterly 
 out of tli(^ power of any ordinary institu- 
 tion of learuinj;: to rival even remotely. 
 But while they have accomplished much 
 in the i)ast, they have accomplished it in 
 the face of great and unnecessary difli- 
 culties. These dilliculties, furthermore, 
 are constantly increasing, with the in- 
 creasiufifly complex nature of tlie prob- 
 lems which warfare under th(> develop- 
 ment of modern science is called upon to 
 meet. They demand for their solutiou 
 as never before tlie services of tlie hifjh- 
 est order of trained intellect, and of in- 
 tellect trained iu a wide variety of w'ays. 
 The very fact that the teaching' foi'ce of 
 the two national Academies ha6 been 
 enabled to do so much under tliB present 
 wretclied s^-stem is an additioinil reason 
 for giving them the opportuni,ty to do far 
 more under a better system/ We insist 
 upon the best physically; \/ith equal rea- 
 son we ought to insist upo/1 the best men- 
 tally. / 
 
 Against any reform of the present sys- 
 tem we must expect /the inevitable de- 
 clarations of what iiiight, could, would, 
 or should have hap))ened if a liiglier 
 standard had prevsiiled in the past. As 
 this is a point s<Ibout which one man 
 knows just as n/icli as another, and no- 
 body knows a)n thing at all, its consider- 
 ation may be s^'.fely left to those who de- 
 light in the discussion of questions that 
 can never be/ answered and of problems 
 that can ne^^er be solved. There is, how- 
 ever, an obstacle in the way that is really 
 forinidabVe. Against any improvement 
 in the einsting state of things we are told 
 that C(/ngress stands as an insurmount- 
 able barrier. That it has so stood in the 
 past is undeniable. The entrance to the 
 Military Academy is prescribed by law; 
 and though that to the Naval Academy 
 is under the control of the Navy Depart- 
 ment, it is impracticable to have any 
 
 marked distiiuMion in the requirements 
 for admission to the two arms of tlu- ser- 
 vice, lint that thi.s condition of ai.^.irs 
 should continue to exist afirr the matter 
 has once been brought fully to the atten- 
 tion of the country, and dispassionately 
 considered by its representaliv<'s, I, for 
 one, should hesitate and certainly hale to 
 believe. There is ijot an educated Con- 
 gressman who would not hv found will- 
 ing to concede that the national legisla- 
 tur(! is as utlwrly incompetent to jiass 
 upon the studies which should lie pursued 
 before entrance as it would he upon those 
 that are pursued after entrance, 'i'heie 
 is but one body properly (|ualilied to de- 
 cide upon a question of this character. 
 That body is made up of those in the two 
 Academies who have had experience in 
 the work of actual instruction in the 
 theory of the profession, and of a chosen 
 ijumbei' of the graduates of highest abil- 
 ity who hiive had experience in its jirac- 
 tice. To their hands, subject to the ap- 
 proval of the Navy Department, can the 
 reiiuirements for admission he safely in- 
 trusted, and to their hands alone. All 
 the dangers feared from committing this 
 power to such a body are utterly illusory. 
 No persons like the members constituting 
 it would have the interests of the Acule- 
 mies so completely at lieavt. They could 
 be trusted to act neither unadvisedly nor 
 hastily. The standard of admission would 
 be raised, but it would be raised gradual- 
 ly. Notice of all changes would be given 
 suflicientlj' long in advance to ail'ord 
 ample time for pr(^i)aratioii for intending 
 candidates. Instead of a cast-iron sys- 
 tem, as now, we should have then an elas- 
 tic one, accommodating itself to the needs 
 of the service and to the advance of naval 
 and military science. For at the present 
 time as never before in our history does 
 the country require that its naval oflicers 
 should be of the highest type of able and 
 educated men. They will be as never 
 before its representatives to the outside 
 world. Upon their tact, their bearing, 
 their knowledge, and their cultivation 
 will depend at times the favorable re- 
 sult of disputes on delicate and diffi- 
 cult questions of policy that has to be 
 adopted in unexpected emergencies. It 
 ought to be the aim of the nation to at- 
 tract to the Naval Academy the very 
 flower of its youth who are fitted by 
 nature and inclination to enter the naval 
 service. 
 
..^ 
 
 n._FROM LA HirilK TO FOlfT ("IlirEWVAN. 
 
 TTI/'ITH several Indians niiining: l)efore 
 IT to «'scoi't us l)ov<)n(l llio i)()st in aj)- 
 in'ovcd style, \v<i left La Biclic at a pretty 
 i)risic "fait, and niainlaiiicd for a pfood hour 
 a pace wliieli must have carried us six 
 miles. liut Ilemiufj and I were so de- 
 lit'lited at beiufj' liually and really under 
 way that no s))eed those Indians could 
 have set would have been too still' for us. 
 As we ran we now and afcain delivered 
 ourselves of congratulations that were ex- 
 ))ressive if brief, and somewhat disconnect- 
 ed in deliver}'. We had been delayed 
 three days and a half at La Biche, fussing 
 wii Indians that had more time than 
 energy, more promise than execution, and 
 who broke contracts as rapid Ij' as thej' 
 made them. Gairdnev liad annoyed me a 
 great deal, and no doubt we had worried 
 liim not a little, breaking in upon the even 
 and lethargic tenor of his monotonous life 
 with our "outside" (as the great world 
 is called by the denizens of this lone 
 land) hustling ways. But now that it is 
 all past, and the trip successfully made, 
 we are willing to forgive and be forgiven. 
 We did not expect to go far that night; 
 our chief desire was to get started; and 
 besides, we knew we should pass several 
 Indian houses, where we must stop, that 
 "Shot" and John might live up to the 
 usual demands of the country courtesy, 
 and shake hands Avith the occupants, and 
 gossip about the white men they were 
 guiding over the first stage of their long 
 journey. Shaking hands always includes 
 the further ceremony of filling up tlie 
 pipes aiul a drink of tea, should the host 
 happen to have any of that luxury, and 
 so when we had left the last Indian lodge, 
 and cro.ssed the northeast end of the lake 
 and got well into the woods, it was sunset, 
 
 and time to camj). The going down of 
 the sun is the invariable signal for camp- 
 ing, for the twilight is of short duration, 
 and the Indians will not run the risk of 
 accident l)y ('liopi)ing wood after dark. 
 And they are (jnite right. A cut foot or 
 leg in civilization is ordinarily little more 
 than inconvejiient. but in this trackless 
 wilderness any wound that interrupts a 
 man's travelling may lead to his death. 
 And so as the sun begins to disai)))ear 
 below the horizon you grow watchful for 
 a place that is most .sheltered and best 
 wooded and nearest the road you are 
 following. 
 
 By the time we had gathered firewood 
 it began to snow, and we ate our first 
 meal in the open, with backs arched to 
 Avindward, and capote hoods pulled up 
 over our heads to keep "the beautiful" 
 from going down our necks. That first 
 night out was an interesting one to nie; 
 with recollections of bivouacs in the 
 Rockies, I thought the fire insignificant 
 and the timber small, but the dogs sitting 
 on their haunches watching the thaw- 
 ing of the frozen fish that were to furnish 
 them with supper, and the sledges drawn 
 on the banked-up snow at the head of our 
 blankets, made a novel and picturesque 
 scene. 
 
 Every one was sleeping the sleep of the 
 weary, if not of the just, and the dogs had 
 eaten and curled themselves up in the 
 snow for the night, when I finally threw 
 off mj' meditative mood and rolled up in 
 my blankets. 
 
 It snowed all night, and when we broke 
 camp the next morning at six it was still 
 snowing, and there Avas a cold head-wind 
 that made us move lively to keep com- 
 fortable. The trail wound through brush 
 
 a I 
 a(i 
 h\ 
 isl 
 
 tc 
 
 ful 
 
 i' 
 
 sill 
 
 mil 
 
 mij 
 
 mij 
 
 I 
 
ON SNOW SHOKS TO TIIK I5ARUKN (JKOUNDS. 
 
 209 
 
 riie goinj,'' down of 
 bio sijrnal for camp- 
 s of sliorl duration, 
 not I'un the risk of 
 : wood after dari<. 
 K-lit. A cnt foot or 
 •dinarily little more 
 It in this trackless 
 [1 that interrupts a 
 
 load to his death, 
 ii'fj-iiis to disapi)ear 
 
 };ro\v watchful for 
 sheltered and hest 
 the road you are 
 
 g-athered firewood 
 
 i we ate our first 
 
 1 backs arched to 
 
 hoods pulled up 
 
 [) "the beautiful " 
 
 |nocks. That first 
 
 (Sting one to nie; 
 
 bivouacs in the 
 
 fire insig-)iificant 
 
 t the dogs sitting 
 
 [.ching the tlmw- 
 
 t were to furnish 
 
 lie sledges drawn 
 
 ,t the liead of our 
 
 and picturesque 
 
 the sleep of tlie 
 »nd the dogs liad 
 ilves up in the 
 
 I finally threw 
 md rolled up in 
 
 when we broke 
 
 six it was still 
 
 |cold liead-wind 
 
 1^' to keej) com- 
 
 through brush 
 
 nnd small tiinbi-r, and now and a<{-aiM 
 across a small lal<i>, but its ;;'ri-atftt lenulli 
 lay over what is called '• muskejf," which 
 ii*('i'eo for Hwan\p. and llw most liriny, 
 patience testing travelling I ever encoun- 
 tered. 
 
 Imagine a landlocked lake swept liy 
 furious cross-winds, and its entire surface 
 <'hurned into choppy waves ; suppose it 
 suddenly coniff-aled at its antrrifsl mo- 
 ment ; further, suppose a deep layer of 
 miry earth covered liy thick heavy moss 
 moulded upon it, ami stuck full of cl«>se- 
 growing stout hi'ush. That is the muskeg. 
 Now fancy walking over a succession of 
 uneven hummocks with brush constantly 
 cat<'liing your snow-shoe and slapping 
 your face, and you will have a vagii;' 
 ide.i of the difficulties of muskeg travel. 
 Jit'vel footii!g is exceedingly scarce, the 
 wind blows the snow " whither it listelli." 
 and you cannot know win Jier yctu are 
 al)out to step on top of one of those innu- 
 merable mounds or into oiu> of the many 
 gutters that cro.ss -section the swamp. 
 You know after you have taken the step. 
 Nine tinu's out of ten you land on the 
 slanting si(l(( of the mound, and slip and 
 trip and turn your ankle and ust; yoiuself 
 up generally. It is exceedingly tlilllcult 
 going, and lleming iind I, who relieved 
 
 one another breaking trail for the dogs, 
 foumi it very fatiguing. 
 
 It was storming hard i\\u\ getting cold- 
 er, and I wasaliead seliini,'' the pace, when, 
 about three o'cjiicl, that alleruonM. I came 
 upon a log hut, and two trails that boro 
 away in dill'er»'n! tlireetions. i \vi>|i I 
 could h;ive |)liii|ographed the scene which 
 slowly maleriali/ed from out of the dark- 
 ness as I stood on theeartluui lloor within 
 the cabin while my eyes grew accustom 
 ed to the changed conditions. ( )n enter 
 iiig I couhl dislingiiish only the lire in one 
 end, before which sqiiatti'd a couple of 
 Indians and a sipiaw, but gradually the 
 shadows lifted, and I found myself I'or 
 a few moments bii>ily en^aj.''ed shaking 
 hands with Indians as fast as tlie new 
 light revealed them. It was a very stnall 
 cabin, barely ten feel s(|uaie, I should 
 say, with a parchment covered hole ii, 
 the wall for window, and a door which 
 deniaiided a bowed head of every visitor. 
 1 do not kn()w how many Indians were 
 in that hut, but I rc<'all wondering how 
 they aiiaiiged for sleeping, as there seem- 
 ed hardly space for them to sit, much 
 less lie down. They were about to e.it, 
 aiul several ral)bits, suspended full length 
 froMi •' deer thong, ami minus only their 
 skins, were twirling and roasting before 
 
 THE INDIAN S STOREHOUSK AND LARDEH. 
 
210 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 the fire, while others were being prepared 
 for the coolviiisj;-. I was not ])!irtiiil to 
 rabbit, nor especially happy in the cabin's 
 atmosphere, so when 1 had wanned a bit 
 I went ouLside to wait for the dog brigade 
 to come np. 
 
 Ileming and Joiin hove in siglit short- 
 ly', but (luite half an hour had i)assed 
 when "Shot" and his dogs loomed up 
 in the stonn, that seemed increasing every 
 minute. Then "Sliot" and I had our 
 first battle royal. He fancied the smell of 
 the roasting rabbit and the warm cabin; 
 he did not like the sleet drivi)ig in our 
 faces, and he wanted to camp. I was 
 annoyed at the interrup- 
 tions to our j)rogress, dis- 
 gusted with "Shot" for 
 Ins vainglorious moutli- 
 ing at La Biche and his 
 halting gait since leav- 
 ing tliere, and determin- 
 ed that night to reach 
 Hart Lake, which was 
 only seven or eight miles 
 farther on, and where we 
 expected to get fish (of 
 which we then had none) 
 for our dogs. In lan- 
 guage both ])ointed and 
 picturesque I reminded 
 "Shot'' of my being the 
 commander-in-chief of 
 our little expedition, and 
 made him understand we 
 were out neithei- for plea- 
 sui-e nor for oui- health, 
 that we had an ol)jective 
 point, and intended to get 
 there wi ill out loss of time, 
 and without camping in 
 every cabin we discover- 
 ed or being headed ott' by 
 every severe storm we 
 encountered, "Shot" 
 spluttered a great deal 
 at first, and then looked 
 as if it would give him 
 pleasure to bury his 
 hunting-knife in my Mesh; but he sulked 
 instead, and we moved away from the 
 crowded little house and the roasting rab- 
 bits. 
 
 There had been a broken trail from this 
 point to Hart Lake, but the same sloi-m 
 that was making our walking so ardu- 
 ous had almost obliterated it. and it was 
 long after dark, and the thermometer .30° 
 below zero, when we reached the cal)in 
 
 I 
 
 4i. iil 
 
 NATIVK-MADK OAKTKIl. 
 
 Frotit an old uud lost ilt'^i^ii. 
 
 of the Indian who Gairdner had said 
 would sell us fish enough to last to the 
 ]\[cMurray fishery. But. like all the things 
 Gairdner told us, we found realization 
 quite different from ju-omist;. The Indian 
 was willing enough to sell, but his cache 
 was fifteen miles away; he had just heard 
 it had been broken into and all his lish 
 stolen, so that he could not say whether 
 or no he really had any; and, at all 
 events, he could not make the journey in 
 one day, and would not start the next 
 (Sunday), because it was the occasion of 
 the priest's yearly visit to this district. 
 I was sorry to jeopard liis soul by de- 
 priving it of the annual shi-iving, but 
 I believed my dogs in more urgent need 
 of fisli than he of salvation, and I was 
 sure three days' delay at Hart Lake 
 would blight definitely whatever hopes, 
 of a future reward 1 might previously 
 have enjoyed. Thei'efore I set about 
 to wreck that Intlian's peace of mind. 
 Four skins — i.e., two dollars — quieted 
 spiritual alarms, a silk Ijandkerchief to 
 the wife secured a promise to make the 
 trip to the cache and back in one day, 
 and the coup d'etat was executed by en- 
 listing " Shot's'' sympathies through my 
 assuring him that, fish or no iish, I should 
 start Monday morning, and, if necessary, 
 feed our bacon to the dogs, and complete 
 the journey on tea and i)otatoes, of which 
 latter, I believe, we liad a few meals left. 
 Thus it was that I got the Indian started 
 ott" early Sunday morning for his cache, 
 and .saved two souls and eight dogs. 
 
 The beneficence of the La Biche ])riest 
 extended fai-ther that Sunday than he 
 knew. Ileming and I blessed his coming 
 without stint, for it emjjtied of its usual 
 occupants the filthy cabin in which we 
 were oblifjed to spend the day and anothei- 
 night, aiul gave us an opportunity to sweep 
 the iloor and renew intimate relations with 
 water. 
 
 When we took up our journey again 
 ^londay morning, with the insuUicient 
 supply of fish got from the Indian's de- 
 spoiled cache, the mercury had dropped 
 to 5-4 "^ below zero, and there was lu) longer 
 a broken trail. Our first ten miles lay 
 across a lake, and both Heming and I, 
 who were bi'caking road, and sinking up 
 to our knees in the snow, were frequently 
 startled by a rundjling as of distant thun- 
 der as the ice cracked under us. It was 
 a curious sensation too, to have these ex- 
 l)losions occurring at our feet, and vibra- 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 211 
 
 said 
 the 
 iiigs 
 tion 
 lian 
 clie 
 ard 
 lish 
 llier 
 all 
 in 
 lext 
 1 of 
 ict. 
 de- 
 but 
 eed 
 was. 
 ike 
 ojjes 
 usiy 
 
 l)OUt 
 
 iiul. 
 
 elL'd 
 
 f to 
 
 the 
 
 eii- 
 my 
 ould 
 Sary, 
 plete 
 liich 
 left, 
 irted 
 iche. 
 
 ting towards tlie shores in successive and 
 receding detonations, like the rings which 
 widen and follow upon one another when 
 you have thrown a stone into a i)ond. 
 On one occasion watei- followed tlKM'rack- 
 ing, and we were obliged to run hard, 
 until we stopped for dinner, to keep our 
 feet from freezing. 
 
 Th»^ going was ex'ceedingl y diflicult ail 
 day long, in deep snow, across lakes, 
 through l)unchcs of stunted s[)ruce. and 
 over tlie redoubtable muskeg, where the 
 sledges required constant handling, and 
 never by any chance remained right side 
 np for more than a few moments at a time. 
 Still, the weather remained clear.and when 
 we camped, at six o'clock, the stars were 
 shining brightly, and we had left Hart 
 Lake thirty-eight miles behind us. Hem- 
 ing and I running the last nine miles in 
 one hour and forty minutes. 
 
 I had been very much worried over 
 Heming's condition the last two days; on 
 the night we arrived at Hart T/ake he 
 seemed considerably worn, and the only 
 consolation I had in the day's delay there 
 was the hoi)e it furnished that the rest 
 would brace him up. But on this night 
 he was com])letely used up, and I was very 
 seriously alarmed by discovering symp- 
 toms of deranged kidneys. I did not then 
 know the cause, and attributed it to strain 
 brought on by hard running. In fact, 
 Heming did not tell nie. nntil I stopped 
 otf at Hamilton to see him on my way 
 back to New York, that on the day's run to 
 Hart Lake he had fallen over a log and 
 struck on the small of his back. I only 
 knew at that time that any weakness of 
 the kidneys Avas not to be trilled with, 
 and I felt it would be extremely hazai'd- 
 ous to take him on; so I lay down that 
 night to think rather than to sleep. 
 
 It was fearfully cold the following 
 morning, with the going growing harder 
 every hour, and I fell behind Heming to 
 watch how he stood up under the effort. 
 I could ])lainly see he was laboring with 
 great dilliculty, and concluded it would 
 be suicidal for him to continue, getting 
 farther from civilization and })hysi(;ians 
 every mile, so at ten o'clock I called a 
 halt, and expressed my determination fo 
 send him home. Heming was loath to 
 turn l)ack. but appreciated his unfitness 
 for the onward journey, and acquiesced 
 in a decision which must have brought 
 him keenest disappointment. 
 
 We had stepped aside for our confer- 
 
 " JOUN.' 
 
 ence, and I have little doubt •'Shot" fan- 
 cied us planning. something for his discom- 
 fort, and was much i-elieved on learning 
 he was to return. I decided on "Shot" in- 
 stead of .John, because 
 he understood Eng- 
 lish enough to ad- 
 minister to Heming's 
 wants in case of 
 his collapse. Then, 
 through "Shot's" in- 
 terjjretation, I had to 
 win Jiihn's consent to 
 go on with nie, and I 
 experienced a very 
 disquieting half-hour 
 indeed whileJohn un- 
 derwent the elaborate 
 process of jnaking up 
 his mind. First he re- 
 fused ; then he demur- 
 red becau.se he had 
 never been in that part 
 
 of the country before, and was as dejjend- 
 ent on "Shot" for guidance as we were 
 ourselves; and again he objected because 
 he could not speak nor understand a word 
 of English, and I was as deficient in Cree. 
 However, finally he consented if I would 
 give him a few i)resents, the nature of 
 which I have now forgotten; and after we 
 had eaten, the two Indians set to work 
 dividing the supplies and repacking the 
 sledges. It was iu)t a very elal)orate task, 
 and (lid not take long. We had eaten the 
 last f)f the imtatoes, and so when the bacon 
 and the tea and the flour had been divi- 
 ded, the blankets .sei)arated, and Heming 
 and I had indicated which was which of 
 the two .seamless sacks that contained our 
 l)ersonal luggage, the sledges were packed 
 and the dogs headed in opposite direc- 
 tions. 
 
 Then we went oui- separate ways, and 
 I took up my journey to tlu* great lone 
 land, over a sti'ang(> country, and without 
 even the poor .satisfaction of talking my 
 mother-tongue. 
 
 My regret over Heming's falling ill 
 may be better imagined than described. 
 Foremost, of course. I dei)U)re(l the loss 
 of ;i companion on a tri|) which was to 
 extend over 2()0() miles; and of less but 
 still considerable concern was the sud- 
 den deprivation of a i.lpniate, upon 
 whose hardihood and ex|)ei'ience I had 
 confidently counted. Heming had had 
 abundant snow -shoeing anil .some dog- 
 sledging, and I set much value on a know- 
 
213 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ledfje llial would, to some extent at least, 
 facilitate our venturesome undertalviii';'. 
 And now liei-e 1 was, just I'oui- days 
 out from La Biclie, iievei- haviiiy liad a 
 web suow-slioe on my fool, nor even seen 
 a doy-sledge, with six days of travel over 
 an uidiiiown country between me and 
 Fort McMurray, the next nearest tradin.<(- 
 post. However, unpleasant as the pros- 
 pect was, I had thought it ail over the 
 niglit before as I lay in my blankets after 
 our hard day's run, and realized the sit- 
 uation as completely as 1 had settled upon 
 my course. But it was not a liappy af- 
 ternoon, that Slh of January. 18!)."), which 
 saw me, after the separation, triulying- on- 
 ward in cold and in silence. 
 
 If I lamented Hem ing, most assuredly 
 I did not mourn "Shot,"' notwithstand- 
 ing his being the only man in the outfit 
 who knew the country across which we 
 were to journey. He luul been a sore 
 trial to me from the day of our de])art- 
 ure — nay, even from the very hour of 
 our introduction at La Biche — and I con- 
 fess to honest i-elief in ridding my.self of 
 him, though I was at the lime like a ship 
 cast adrift without rudder. Before starl- 
 ing he had delii)ei'ately broken liis con- 
 tract, and followed it U|) by repealed at- 
 t(nni)ts to squeeze more money out of me 
 when he recognized my helplessness and 
 saw my anxiety to get under way. He 
 exasperated me to such a degree that, 
 knowing an indulgence to my feelings 
 would result in his refusing to go at all, 
 I remember confiding to Heming the great 
 lioi)e that my legs would i)i'ove as stout as 
 they had at other times, and enable me to 
 set such a i)ace as should make "Shot's" 
 tongue hang out before we reached McMur- 
 ray. 
 
 Whether the pace was t(^o hot or he too 
 lazy I cannot say, but certainly when we 
 were once started he kept me busy ui'giiig 
 him to faster gait; his train was invaria- 
 bly so far behind as to delay us ten to 
 lifleen minutes at i-very " sp(dl " (rest), 
 which meant a loss of from six to eight 
 miles in a day's travel. It must luive bec'u 
 laziness, because he is a half-breed of mas- 
 sive bone and great strength and over six 
 feet in height. He evidently thought he 
 had got hold of a " moonyass," as a " ten- 
 derfoot" is called in this counti-y, with 
 whom he could l)lay any game he chose; 
 and when he discovered his mistake he 
 grew sulky, developed a lame knee, sub- 
 sequently a sore back, and delayed the 
 
 morning start by his reluctance to turn 
 oiii when called and the length of lime he 
 ccnisumed in packing the sledges. The 
 only (lay of the four he was with me on 
 which 1 got him to .set off promptly and 
 travel smartly was the last one, when 
 the ])rosi)ect of reaching a deserted calnn 
 for the night's camp cari-ied him on. I 
 could have forgiven him the lagging be- 
 hind, for the going was hai'd, and he had 
 none o( the incentive that added lu'rvous 
 to my physical enei'gy. but his avaricious- 
 ness at La Biche and his sullenness on 
 th(! road hardened my heart, and I cut 
 out his work on a scale that. I fancy, made 
 the parting between us one for mutual 
 congratulation. 
 
 And .so John and T set out on our jour- 
 ney, neither of us knowing whei'e the 
 moiTow might find us, and I with a 
 Cree vocabulai-y limited to " im," "yes," 
 " hurry," and "how far is it?"' I do iu)t 
 know how many miles we covered the 
 afternoon Heming tuined homeward, for 
 I was loo thoroughl V absoi-bed in thoughts 
 of what was coming to note the ])assing, 
 but the camp of that night was, luckily, 
 the best we made on the ti'ip. It was 
 sheltered from the howling wind, wood 
 was plentiful, and with blankets, mocca- 
 sins, and leggings hung on poles to dry 
 before the blazing logs, might even have 
 been called ))icturesque, unless that quali- 
 ty nuiy be said to disappear when the mer- 
 cury registers 4U° below zero ten feet from 
 the fire. We were not likely to find so 
 favored a spot another night, aiul I made 
 John know he should take advantage of 
 the good fire and prepare "bannocks" to 
 last us a few days. 
 
 The b;innock is sim])ly flour and water 
 and grease thoroughly kneaded and wcdl 
 baked: the usual method of cooking is to 
 shai)e the dough an inch dee)) to the in- 
 side of a frying pan, and stand the latter 
 before the canii)-lire. The bannock is 
 not beautiful to the eye nor tempting to 
 the fastidious palate ; moi'eover, it never 
 rises superior to thai "sadness" which is 
 the characteristic of umlerdt)ne bread the 
 world over. But the bannock is much 
 Ix'tter suited to the needs of the tripper or 
 V()!/(t<ifiii\ as the siH)wsh()e traveller is 
 called, than the light yeast bread of the 
 grand paijs. The bread of civilization 
 is filling, but lacks substance; the ban- 
 nock has both filling and substance; and 
 when one has nothing to eat but bread 
 and tea and bacon, and is running five 
 
 n 
 
 ■ji 
 
 H 
 
 > 
 O 
 
 u 
 
 H 
 CO 
 H 
 
 O 
 > 
 
 s 
 
 O 
 
 3] 
 
 n 
 
 H 
 
u 
 
 7) 
 
 
 ta 
 
 H 
 
 > 
 
 o 
 td 
 
 H 
 01 
 
 H 
 
 O 
 > 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 s 
 
 \ 
 
214 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 miles an liour from suiiviso to siinsut day 
 after clay, sui>staiice is a dcsirubh^ quality. 
 Wliil(^ John madi' tlic bannocks. I attend- 
 ed to tliawin'i' lisli for IIkmIo^^s; and Avlien 
 we had both linishod and lij.'-lited our pipes 
 I undcrtooiv to hold my (ii'st coiiversution 
 with him in the laii;,''nage of sijiiis. 
 
 The waiMiin'i;' most imjjressed upon me, 
 by all tliose claiminj; any knowlcdj^c of 
 the counti'3' into whieh I was <;'oin<i\ had 
 been against the unreliability of tht^ Ind- 
 ians. 1 had been told of their tendency 
 to desert under ti-yin"; eonditions. and the 
 little there was to read on the subject em- 
 ))hasi/.e(l the need of vigilance. Tluit 
 John would grow tliscoin-aged. and quiet- 
 ly steal away from camp sonu; night, was 
 a thoiight which jjossessed and wori'ied 
 me considerably. I was prei)ared to see 
 his dismay as we jdodded <jn in the hard 
 going, and to hear his grund)ling, even 
 though I could not understand. l>ut 1 did 
 not propose, if I could prevent it, awak- 
 ening one morning to iind him and the 
 dogs gone. So I engaged John's atten- 
 tion on tliis our iirst night together, and 
 in my best pantomime I tried to make 
 
 him understand 
 that if he staid 
 with me to 
 McMurray and 
 was a " go(Kl " 
 Indian, Ishould 
 be "good" to 
 him, but if he 
 deserted me he 
 had better cut 
 my throat be- 
 fore he left 
 camp, as other- 
 wise I should 
 follow his trail 
 and kill him. 
 John looked 
 very wise and 
 serious during 
 )ny dramatic 
 recital, and 1 guess he understood me. 
 Whether 1h> did or not, certainly his dis- 
 couragement in tlie trying days we had 
 subseciuenlly never i-(>aclied a mutinous 
 l)oint. and I fully believe he needed no 
 intimidation to be a "good Indian." I 
 wondercHl that night, and as the .scene 
 has come up before me many times since 
 I have wondered again, wh.'it that Cree 
 must have thought of this white man who 
 was pushing into his country at a time 
 when he himself usual Iv remained in- 
 
 oiiizzi.Yci.AW ^KCKl..^cl^. 
 
 doors, had pressed him into a service for 
 which I'e had no liking, and threatened 
 to take his life if he forsook it. 
 
 Desi)ite our sheltered position and the 
 l)ig lire, I put in an uncomfortable night 
 in tliis i)icturesque camj). It was. in fact, 
 the Iirst of many uncomfortable nights 
 before I adjusted my blankets and robes 
 ])r()i)erly. I had ample bedding, and of 
 course could have got Avarm quickly 
 enough had I used it all, but that was 
 ])recisely what I did not want to do. I 
 wi.shed to use the smallest amount of cov- 
 ering possible, and yet be not too uncom- 
 fortable to preclude sleep. I did not lose 
 sight of the fact that the cold I was then 
 experiencing was as sunmier compared 
 with that which I should be oljliged to 
 sustain in the Barren Grounds, whither I 
 Avas going. And as I had trained befoi-e 
 leaving New York for extreme physical 
 exertion, so now I began fitting myself 
 for excessive cold. Jnd(>ed, I am entire- 
 ly convinced it was my very careful and 
 thorough previous conditioning that en- 
 abled me to withstand the starving and 
 freezing to which I was subjected on this 
 trip, and yet come out of it in sound 
 physical condition and without having 
 had a day's siclcncss. My camping -out 
 experience had been rather extensive, 
 and was now valuable in suggesting ways 
 of nuiking most out of little. An old 
 cami)aigner will, sim])ly by his method 
 of wrapijing it about him, get as much 
 if not nioi-e warmth out of a single blank- 
 et than the tyro will out of two. Nev- 
 ertheless, with all my experience, for the 
 iirst week I shivered and .shook in the 
 bedding I permitted myself, and the temp- 
 tation to add one more blanket was al- 
 most irresistii)le. 
 
 Not that the atmosjdiere was colder 
 than I had before e.rperienced, for 40° 
 below is by no means uncommon in the 
 Rocky I\Iountains, where I have camjied, 
 but the wind nuide me so miserable. It 
 blew more than half the tinu>, and no- 
 thing could resist its scarchings. It went 
 straight through capotes, leggings, and 
 blankets, and made sleep imijossible for 
 me several nights on the way to Mc]Mur- 
 ray. 'I he dogs, however, seemed un- 
 mindful of either wind or cold. At night, 
 aftei- they had eaten their fish, they 
 would go a few yards from the fire, 
 scratch a way a little of the top snow, ajid 
 then curl up. back to windward. In the 
 morning Avheii they AA'ere dragged to liar- 
 
 ' 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARP.EN GROUNDS. 
 
 215 
 
 i 
 
 ness lliey left tlie 
 outline of their 
 body ill the snow, 
 and a well -de- 
 lined depression, 
 which sometinies 
 even showed the 
 ground. N«)thin<;: 
 but fur can insure 
 warmth or even 
 comfort in this 
 chilling' North. 
 Fartlier along', 
 and before mak- 
 ing my bison or 
 musk-ox hunt, I 
 secured a caribou- 
 skin capote with 
 tiie fur on, nut 
 until I got one I 
 was a shivering 
 victim of the 
 wind. The ca- 
 l)ot(i I had fetch- 
 ed from Hamilton. Canada, was useless; only, docorjr. ; piece of hisa])parel: in 
 having been made of unsmoked leather, j)resentation they are the vehicle of re- 
 the first snow-storm soaked and the lire gard from one Indian to another; they 
 shrunk it; then it was too heavy to run cari-y the lirst tidings of a more tender 
 in, and the blanket lining was greatly sentiment from the maiden to the young 
 inferior to fur for warmth. No garment hunter, and are the surest indication not 
 can excel the caribou capotes made by only of the degree of the woman's handi- 
 tlie Indians for exposure in the excessive craft, but, if she be nuirried, of the degree 
 cold and piercing winds of this North of her i-egai-d for the husljand. An Ind- 
 counlry. They are very light, and do not ian's moccasins are a walking adverti.se- 
 therefore add to the burden of the voya- nuMit of his standing at home. Bles.sed 
 gen)\ while being literally impervious to is the civilized world insonnich as its 
 all winds, save those deadly blasts of the wives are not its I)oot-inakersI 
 Bai'ren Grounds. I was not long in reading aright the 
 
 The Indian tripper in winter first se- signs of the moccasins, and ever aftei". 
 
 POLE LODGE IN WHICH MOOSE AXD CARIBOU SKINS ARE SMOKED. 
 
 when 1 required any made at the jKisIs, 
 first sought acquaintance with the hus- 
 band before ordering. No doubt many a 
 \){\\\' of shoes I .scanned 
 
 cures stout nu)ccasins and new "duH'el," 
 and next looks to his cai'il)ou-skin capote. 
 Anything may answer for trousers or 
 head-covering, the foi'mer, indeed, being 
 
 moose or carihou skin, blanket, or "store did not i-epresent the best 
 pants ■" got at the Hudson Bay Company work of tlui ))oor devil's 
 post in trade, wiiile the conventioiuil hat 
 is supplied by a colored liandkercliief 
 wound al)out the head, just above tin* 
 forehead and ears, to keep the long hair 
 in place. Formerly it was, and still is in 
 the more I'oniote secti(Uis, a moose or cari- 
 bou thong bound i)y sinew and decorated l.ind Indian oi'namenta- 
 with porcupine quill. But the foot-cov- tion, is done in beads, in 
 ering must be of the best. ]\Ioccasins are jjorcupine quill, or in silk 
 made of smoked moose-skin, because of embioidery. Silk -work 
 its thickness (though the thinner caribou- is of somewhat recent 
 skin is equally durable), and ai-e really introduction, connned entirely to lialf- 
 the i)ride of the Indian wardrobe. They breeds, and although rather well exe- 
 are the most, and very frequently the cuted, is the least eti'ective. The French 
 
 wife, but 1 found them at 
 least accurate in deter- 
 mining his inipoi'tance 
 within his own tepee, 
 ^loccasin decoration, in 
 fact. ])ractically all Xorth- 
 
 MOCCASIN8. 
 
216 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ANCIKNT KNIFK 
 WITH IIKAVKK- 
 Tt)OTII IlLADK. 
 
 lialf-breeds are largely rosponsil)!;' for tlie 
 bead embroidery, which is the v()<,''ii(' ;ill 
 over the northern part of this country. 
 0:;e sees moccasins, mittens, Ic^-^iinjiS, all 
 in the beaded !lo\ver ptitlcriis. taken from 
 nature, iiiid tliertsfore somcwliat notewor- 
 thy, hut not nearly .so strikinj^' as tiie pun* 
 Indian designs of the mor(! southerly 
 trilx's. The porcupine-(iuill work is truly 
 Indian, iind, at its best, exceedingly pretty, 
 both in design and coloring, 
 though only tlie most skilful 
 can do it acce{)tably, for each 
 tiny (piill is woven in sepa- 
 rately, and th(! weaver's in- 
 genuity or lack of it is re- 
 vealed in the design. Tlie 
 best si)ecinnuis of this work 
 are seen in the women's 
 Ijelts, thougli it is put on 
 moccasins, shirts, skirts, 
 gun-coats, as well as on the 
 bir<'li-bark baskets called ro- 
 gans, and used for every ])ur- 
 ])ose. "DuU'el'' is a thick 
 blanket stull', wliich, togeth- 
 er with '■ sti'ouds," a simi- 
 lar though mon^ closely 
 spun material, the Hudson 
 Bay Company introduced and christened. 
 DuU'el is used for socks, and strouds for leg- 
 gings, aiul both are manufactured express- 
 ly for the trade in this country. The Ind- 
 ian gets his dulTel by the yard, and when 
 he has cut it into strips about six inches 
 wide by eighteen inches long his socks 
 are completed. Their adjustnu'iit is equal- 
 ly simple, for it is only to begin at the 
 toes and wind the piece throughout its 
 length al)out the foot. The lialf- breed 
 takes his duil'el home, where it is shaped 
 and sewed into crude socks, and if his 
 wife thinks well of him, and is clever, 
 she will vary them ii! size (as two or 
 three pairs ai'c worn at a time insido the 
 moccasin), and f;uicy-stitch them in col- 
 ored yarn. I ti'ied both styl(>s of sock. 
 and prefer the Indi;in's simpler kind; it 
 is more quickly thawed out and di'ied at 
 night; if one end weai-s or burns, you can 
 rearranges it so that a good part covers the 
 toes and heel — the most important to keep 
 fi'om freezing; and you can lit it more 
 snugly, which is, I think, its greatest ad- 
 vantage, because, if you do not happen to 
 have a wife to direct, or, having one. do 
 not stand high in her estimaiion, your 
 socks will be of the same size, and all too 
 large. Consequently 3'our feet will slip 
 
 about, which is most tiresome in long and 
 hard walking, and the socks will freeze 
 into wrinkles and knots that will cut 
 your toes and inste)), and very likely 
 eventually cripple you when youi" snow- 
 shoe strings have also become frozen. 
 
 The denial I ])i'actised in th<i matter of 
 blankets proved doubly advanlngeous. 
 It conditioned jue so that very soon I 
 slept soundly and comfortably, and it 
 j)rove(l a blessing to John, to whom 1 
 gave of my surplus. lie was vi^ry ylad 
 to get the additional blanket, and 1 lu'ver 
 encountered an Indian thi'oughout my 
 trip who was not thankful for any extra 
 covering, even a coat, that I let him have. 
 This is apropos of the declaration made 
 to the venturer into this country that the 
 Indians .scorn more than one blanket. I 
 heard it on all sides. "What, two pairs 
 of blankeis? Why, the Indians,"etc., etc. 
 When these Indians sleep under one 
 blanket it is because they have no .second, 
 nor do they keep warm '"in the coldest 
 niglits." The conti'ary is all misei-able 
 boasting. !My experience was that they 
 could not stand any greater cold than I; 
 when it was merely discomforting- they 
 were mor(> indiU'ei-ent to it than a white 
 man would be, for the veiw good reason 
 that while the white man has always been 
 well clothed and fed and protected, the 
 red man has been half clothed and fed and 
 never protected. Naturall j' the latter does 
 not mind exposures that must seem some- 
 what trying on. first expei-ience to the for- 
 mer. For instance, in sitting about camp, 
 the Indiiins, as a rule, wore the same coat 
 in wliich they had been running, wiiereas 
 I found a heavier one more comfortable. 
 It was not that the Indians wei-e warm, 
 but they were used to discomfort. I 
 wi-ai)ped up less than they when snow- 
 shoeing, but more than they in camp. 
 When it came to withstanding the fear- 
 ful cold and withering storms of the Bar- 
 I'on Grounds, mv endui-ance was as creat, 
 and my suH'ering, judging from ajjpear- 
 ances, not so much as theirs. This is be- 
 causf! this i)Mrticular Indi;in lias no heart, 
 no nervous enei'gy, no reserve force. 
 Confronted by the unexi)ected or inexi)li- 
 ca]>le. he gives no urgency to his etroi-ts, 
 he seeks no solution ; he simply gives up. 
 He bus none of that do-or-die sentiment; 
 he ))refers to die. Dump an Indiim and 
 abound white man into a snow bank, and 
 the latter would ])robab]y freeze to death 
 first, but in a struggle for existence under 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 2! 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 ll 
 

 O 
 o 
 
 
 3 
 
 •vK. 
 
 
218 
 
 IIAItl'KIiS NKW MONTHLY MAGAZINP:. 
 
 any ••'iiKlilKius I lie wliili- man woulil ^,'•0 
 f.'irl.ln'i' ami l<i'i'|i ^'oiny- lon^rc). iluni i|ic 
 dmI man. 
 
 /\h 111 llic l)i'(|(liii(r (jiicst ion, wln'ii I was 
 on my lninn'\var<l jdiiniiy in May I iiottd 
 Indians sl('('|)in;^ undi'i' lln- sanir iinmlx't' 
 
 of Idanlo'ls tlic\' had 
 
 ,-^' 
 
 nscd uiiilr I was 
 making;' my way 
 (iiwai'ds(ii'''al Sla\ <! 
 liaUc in .lannary. 
 What did sni'pi'isf! 
 me at. lii'st. liowcvcr, 
 was I lie l(»uylin(!ss 
 «>!' liicir iVi't. I maf- 
 Vfiicd liow tlicy 
 could sleep willi 
 tiieni slifkiii^'' out 
 from under tlie 
 hlanUels, with no 
 oIIht protection 
 
 from the cold than 
 that, rurnislicd liy 
 tln> moccasin. 1 
 ceased to \von(l(>r 
 once I had vitnved 
 the (juarttM- - iiicli 
 layei" of »>|)iderinis 
 on tli(> heel.s anil 
 soles. 
 
 There is .some 
 comfort in the re- 
 tlcction thai. .lolin 
 and i h;ul a ijood 
 camp that lirst niyht 
 we w (M'c alone, foi- 
 lhtM'(> was hiitcrness cnouu'li in store for us 
 in llie nt>xl foiu' days. To he.uin with, it 
 was iuipossil)It> for mc to W(>ar snow shoes 
 in l>reakin<r trail for thedon's, altluMiiih llit> 
 snow was ncaily knee dtH>p and the ji'oinii' 
 heavy, hccan>c 1 liad lU'vtM- nseil a weh 
 snow slux^ h(M'on\ and cmisi^piently was 
 not siilVu'iiMilly expei'l to t'oel the McMm-- 
 ray trail under lht> t'oot and a half of snow 
 and to follow lliis trail hy l"c('lin>:- it was 
 onr only nutans o( i^uidance. Then our 
 h.'iciMi was ;'.hoal out, and we had hut one 
 nu\'il of lish iov l]\o ilo^s. Tlierefore I 
 was not hilarious when we started otV al 
 t\>ur in tlic moruini:- in a hliiuliiii:- snow- 
 slinan. " Shol "' had loul nie soniclhin^- 
 of the nature of the country over wiiich 
 tlie trail led. hut the country was all alike 
 10 us in that s;orn\. 1 know w (> wtuil 
 throui:h wooiis, 1"or several times 1 fell 
 heavily ai:\unsi a tree, hat nothing:- was 
 visihle excejM on closest inspection ^ly 
 senses were .all i'onccntrated on feeling 
 
 iioti wmr 
 
 that trail, and my cnorjjies directed to 
 \vciith(!iin<,'- th(! storm, whoso fury was 
 h(';,'-inniny to he the more pci'ceptihhi hy 
 the dawninj,'- of day. w luai hnddei.i,v I 
 dropped ihi'on^li spam — I tlion<,flit at the 
 time al)out twenty feet, hut T {jness it was 
 not more than ten and IIks do<;s and 
 the sledye and .lolin f(dl on top of me. 
 When we had disenia nailed our.s(dves, I 
 luid a moi'e pn/./.liny situation to unravel 
 in determining when; we wen; "at." 
 
 I felt sure 1 had not lost the trail, hut 
 corrohoration was out of the (luestion, 
 heeause the road made hy our do<;s and 
 sledj^-e I'endered feelinj,'' the undcrlyinj? 
 old on(^ that liad jruided lue impossihie. 
 (Join^'- ahead a little distance, I found we 
 were on a lake, hut c(vul(l discover no 
 trail, ami the stoi-m made travellinfj l)y 
 landmarks impossih-e even had I known 
 any, which of course 1 did not. John's 
 .s(>ai'ch for a trail ])roved no hap])ier tliaii 
 mine, and then he wanted to camp; but 
 1 exhausted two-thirds of my Cree vocab- 
 nlary in "no" and "hurry" npon him. 
 and we made a wider circuit with no 
 heller success. This time he was deter- 
 mined to camp; and the sleet was cut- 
 lint:' our faces and the doji's were howling 
 and it was miserable. But we didiTt 
 camp. Ajiain I made a cast, and this 
 lime t'oi- a liiid. I was sure of a piece of 
 ti'ail. hut whence it came and whither it 
 went I could \u)t determine. The snow- 
 was either blown away or packed so hard 
 it was siin]>ly imjiossible to follow a trail 
 for any distance. We would travel a 
 little way only to lose it and betrin our 
 searchine- anew: another find, followed 
 closely by ;v check and yet another lieart- 
 breakino-casl. And thus, how many miles 
 I know not. we worked tnu" way across 
 that .lack Fish Lake in the leeth of a storm 
 that whirled aro\ind us nnceasinjrly. and 
 it was one o'ldock wIumi we crawled u|) 
 the hank and discoveretl a cabin which I 
 knew must he the one where "Shot" had 
 said 1 could e-oi tish, 
 
 We L;ot oiu' doirs on the leeward side, 
 anil then siai:-<:-ereil into the cabin, covered 
 fnMu head to foot by ice and numb willi 
 cold. Tiie house was full of Indians, but 
 tliere was no exclamation of surprise 
 ujion otn- ajipearance. Half-frozen men 
 are o\ too common occurrence in this 
 Northland to create connnent. They 
 made way for us at the lire, of which we 
 did IU1I immediately avail ourselves — foi- 
 we botli had fro/.eu ears and noses — and 
 
 , 
 
ox SNUW-SUUES TO THE BARKEN GROUNDS. 
 
 219 
 
 lil 
 
 I 
 
 ul 
 
 ■a 
 li 
 
 4 
 
 e 
 
 they piislied tlie teakettlo nearer tlie jrlow- 
 ing' coals; but no one nttered a sound, 
 tlioiijih tliey eyed me with ill-conceah'd 
 curiosity. IJy - aiul-l)y. wlien we liad 
 tiiawed out. .lohn and I drank tea and 
 ate a slice of bacon from our scanty stock, 
 and tlien I sijiiied him to <jet lish for the 
 dogs; but much tallviii<>' was followed only 
 by sullen silence, and no lish were forth- 
 coinin<T. Fish we must have; and as I sat 
 pon(h'rin<»' over the situation, I discovered 
 a liddlo iian<;inij: ajijainst the wall, and 
 tlioufflit an excellent opportunity offered 
 of tryiny tlie power of n\usic to sootlie 
 the sava<fe breast, so I handed tlu! instru- 
 ment to John, whom I had lieard play at 
 La Biche, and what with his iiddlinj,'' and 
 my distribution of tobacco, it was not very 
 long before we had the Indians jabbering 
 again, and two days' fish for the dogs. 
 
 The wind was still howling and the 
 snow falling when we started on an hour 
 Liter, against the i)rotestations of the 
 Indians, who wanted us and om* tea and 
 tobacco to remain overnight; but our 
 supplies wei'e too low to warrant their 
 consumption in idleness, and we had put 
 another eight or nine miles behind us be- 
 fore we made a wretched camp in the mus- 
 keg, with scarce! V wood enough to make 
 a tire, and not a level spot to throw down 
 our blankets. It cleared np during the 
 night, and when we broke camp the next 
 morning at four the moon shone as 
 serenely as though it had not yielded to 
 a greater and fiercer power the night be- 
 fore. Before daybreak the trail ran into 
 some rather open 
 woods, through . -~ ~ 
 which the moon's 
 soft light playc cl 
 with wondrouslj 
 fantastic effect, 
 and when the first 
 streaks of yellow 
 in the northeast 
 heralded the ris- 
 ing of the sun. we 
 had left the shad- 
 ow of the trees 
 and were travel- 
 ling in the nms- 
 keg. I shall al- 
 ways remember 
 that morning as 
 giving me the 
 most beautiful 
 picture I ever be- 
 held in nature's 
 
 album: the sun coming up on my I'ight, 
 the moon going down on my left — one 
 i)ursting forth in all his golden splcndoi'. 
 while the other slowly withdrew her sil- 
 very light. And Ix'twecn and far below 
 the two heavenly rivals plodded .lohn and 
 the dogs and 1. footsoi-e and hungry, but 
 appreciative. 
 
 I was destined to be brought to earth 
 very suddenly and somewhat inglorious- 
 ly, for the sun had but just dispelled the 
 gi'ay gloom of early morning, and 1 was 
 clipping along at a meri-y gait across tlio 
 deadly muskeg, with a large lake in sight, 
 and John and the dogs not far behind, 
 when down I tumbled in a heap, with 
 a sprained ankle. Silting in the snow 
 chafing my aidvle was not going to bring 
 us food nor get me to the Ban-en Grounds, 
 so I wound moose-skin tightly about the 
 injured part, and took my place again be- 
 fore the dogs. At first 1 could not stand 
 without the aid of a stout stick, and we 
 made headway so slowly that after a few 
 miles I threw away iriv crutch, and in a 
 determination to try the i)ower of mind 
 over matter, linijied on. 
 
 I should not advise Christian scientists 
 to put their faith to such a test ; no con- 
 vert was ever more open to conviction 
 than T — spirit willing, mind rece])tive, 
 but the flesh so mortally weak that every 
 time I put down my left foot it gave way 
 to the knee. And so, faith failing, I 
 gritted my teeth and vowed to get on 
 some way. After a while the jiain grew 
 duller, and my leg giving under me, I 
 
 DRYING FISH— THE STAPLE FOOD OF MAN AND DOG. 
 
220 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 discovereil tlie tijjlit hiiidiiitf and the cold 
 had frozen the llesli; us 1 coiihl not nav- 
 i{^ate witlioiit tlie siipporl of the moose- 
 skin hindiii;^, and a Iro/en anlde, llioii^li 
 less painful, held nie up not so well as 
 a twisted one, I was theieafler occupied 
 quite as much iu keepiiiy thai anUle jilive 
 in all its |)aiMfuI sensitiveness as I was 
 in keepinj; it, t,''oinj;' al all. We held oui- 
 way, liow(n-ei', and the lake 1 had si^ihted 
 proved to h(! JJii;- While* Fish, where I 
 traded .some l()l)acc() for lisli for the doj;s, 
 hut could gel none to eke out the little 
 hacon now lefl us. 
 
 Here I had my lirst view of the man- 
 ner in which these fish art* hung upon 
 stagings — first to dry, suhsequently to 
 freeze, and ever to he beyond tlus icach 
 of the always half starved dogs. Tlierti 
 are other stagings, conihining larder and 
 storeliouse for the Indian, and more ne- 
 cessary than his lodge, where* he puts his 
 meat, fresh pelts, snow-shoes, ;ind sledges. 
 Snow-shoes and sledges do not sound pal- 
 atable, but the caribou-skin lacings of the 
 former and moose wriip{)er and lines of 
 the latter make quite a succulent dish, as 
 meals go in this land of feast or famine. 
 Every Indian cabin or lodge has its sta- 
 ging, and all things 
 eatable are hung upon 
 it for .safety. And it is 
 liere the dogs do con- 
 gregate to voice their 
 hunger in mournful 
 howlijig, and vent 
 their frenzied disap- 
 poinlnient in furious 
 lighting. Indian dogs 
 spend most of their 
 time fighting; when 
 it is not one another, 
 it is against death by 
 starvation. 
 
 If I failed of in- 
 creasing our supplies at this settle- 
 ment, I did gel a map, which at least 
 aimed to show me the way to plenty. 
 It was a puzzling creation, that map, 
 which one of the Indians drew in my 
 note-book to give us some idea of the di- 
 rection of the trail across the six lakes 
 that lay between us and the next Indian 
 camp on White Fish Lake. Once at 
 White Fish Lake, and we had but, fifteen 
 miles to John MacDonald's, on Big Jack 
 Fish Lake, the McMurray fishery, and 
 home of one of the best known and hard- 
 iest voyageurs in the country. But Big 
 
 MUCCAblNS. 
 
 Jack Fish Lake was two days' travel 
 away, and meanwhile my ankle made lif** 
 intoh>rable, and the map proved more 
 maddening than the fifteen puzzle. We 
 made only sevn miles the afternoon of 
 the day I sprained my ankle; we had 
 covered twenty up to noon; butaftt r my 
 i-est I could barely move along, and be- 
 sides, w(* wer<! continually falling foul of 
 trails, which ai)peared coming from every- 
 where, and went nowhere. All tliis and 
 the following day we travelled over mus- 
 keg, i)articularly severe on me now, with 
 an ankle so tender, and really only one 
 fo(tl with which to feel the road. But, 
 afterall, the muskeg waskinderto us than 
 tilt* lakes, for when we reached these we 
 invariably lt)st the trail, tt) find and as 
 speedily lt)se it again, while it was abso- 
 lutely inipt)ssible tt) judgt* from its direc- 
 tion where it eventually left the lake. 
 Indians never by any chance travel 
 straight. Throughout the (about) 900 
 miles of trail I followed from Edmonton 
 to Ft)rt Rt>solution, on Great Slave Lake, 
 ihere is but the single exception of the 
 Slave Lake ])ortage; for the rest, it looks 
 as tht)ugh the oi-iginal traveller had sat 
 up all night at Edmonton with a sick 
 friend and a barrel, and then started to 
 ■walk home. At best its windings are hard 
 to follow, but wnen one may advance 
 only by feeling, its dillicullies become 
 tenfold, and yet it is remarkable how 
 skilled one becomes in this method of pro- 
 cedure. I grew sulliciently expei-t after 
 a time, and where there was good bottom 
 to the trail, to ft)llow it running, about a 
 five-niile-per-hour gait, though there was 
 literally no indication on the snow's sur- 
 f:"ce t)f a trail beneath. 
 
 Added to the mi.sery of bodily ailment, 
 the map disti-acted me by its deceptions. 
 The lengths of lines drawn by the Indian 
 tt) represent ihe poilages between the 
 lakes gave no indication of the compar- 
 ative distances. The first "line" was 
 sht)rt, and we covered it in a couple of 
 hours; the next t)ne was about the same 
 length, but we wore half a day crossing 
 the country between the two lakes it 
 joined ; the third line was fully four 
 times as long as the longer of the other 
 two. yet we were only half an hour going 
 from end to end of it. 
 
 And every little while, when a lost or 
 blind trail dismayed us, and we cast about 
 to find our true course, we looked at eacli 
 other, John and I, and pitied one another 
 
 
T^M'-in. ^trt.ngra*.- 
 
 SOUR GKAPES. 
 
 r 
 
 for living. We could not exchange ideas; 
 we could not have tlie ])oor comfort of de- 
 batin<>' the situation ; we could only make 
 a few imperfect sij^ns, which exj)ressed lit- 
 tle to the point, and seemed frivolous in thi' 
 face of a sitiuition so desjierate. Once o>;r 
 leadiiij:^ dofr. who is always called u fore- 
 fi'oer, found the trail on the lake, and 
 showed remarkable sagacitj, which, by- 
 the-\va,\, we trusted to our sorrow later. 
 This time, however, he came to our res- 
 cue when we were utterly lost; he ceased 
 followiufjf the imaginary trail I was hob- 
 l)Iing along, and after a few casts, settled 
 to a steady gait in another direction, 
 .lolm also thought he had a trail, wliich 
 he endeavored to persuade the dogs into 
 following, but the foregoer held his way, 
 and when we inv(>stigated we found he 
 bad really the only trail of the three. 
 The snow was dee])er on this part of our 
 route, which made the walking yet hard- 
 er; but by one way or another we finally 
 crossed the six lalces shown on the Ind- 
 ian's map, and came to While Fish Lake. 
 Here we managed to get just a meal of 
 
 fish for the d,»gs, but none for ourselves, 
 to whicii. however, we bad beconu- accus- 
 tomed. We rested two hours, while I 
 bathed my feet, much to tlie wonderment 
 of the natives, to whom it .seemed an un- 
 a'"'.'oun table waste of energy, and rul)bed 
 my aidvle with some of the nuislaiig lini- 
 numt I had fetched along from l^a liiche. 
 There were but foni'tetMi miles 1)etween us 
 ami John ^MacDonald's cabin, on Big Jack 
 Fish Lake, when we set v^U again at two 
 o'clock ; and the i)rospect of tilking again, 
 and having a roof over my Jiead. nerved 
 me to faster pace. I was destined to see 
 neither AlacDonald nor his house that 
 night. Some Lidiiins had recently trav- 
 elled between the two lalces, so there was 
 a faint trail, which we followed at so good 
 a gait it was not dark wlien we came to 
 where the road led out on to Big Jack 
 Fisli Lake. But by this time a fiei-ce storm 
 had set in, with snow which completely 
 shut off our view twenty feet distant, and 
 Avind that swept away the last semldance 
 of a trail. I tried to feel out the road, 
 then John tried, and then we gave the 
 
222 
 
 HAUrKUb NEW MONTIIIA' MAdAZINK. 
 
 fort'CocM- his liciid; jiikI. siirn «>ii()il[;li, lio 
 \V«'iit oil' at a liitf uliicli cuiiv iiicrtl lis li(^ 
 tiitiNt liiivu found s(>ni('tliiii(.''. And so lie 
 li.id ; l)nt \vt! wcic not srcUiny tlic ro;id 
 III- found. \V»' tiavcllcd aljoiil Icii miles 
 to (jet lliat kiiowlrdyc. 
 
 Tln-i'c is a point wliicli nial«'s out from 
 tli«; iioi'th sliort' of tin- lalo' and divides it 
 into two laiyc liavs. MacDonald'.s cabin is 
 on llic Ufstcin l)ay. I supposed .folin knew 
 it was. We liad iield an animated tlioueli 
 not tMitirtdy successful conversation at 
 Wliitf^ Kisli, wliicli I intended should e.\- 
 pres.s my wish that he learn tlu; distance, 
 etc. Tlie Creo for "How far is hi" in 
 " Wall he 6 che " ; for "It is far," you 
 drop only the "die," and say "Wah- 
 lic-o." ]iut T was not then so learned. So 
 I hatl asKed .lolin, " Wah-h(M')cli(! — Mac- 
 Donalds ^"' and .lolin had i-eplied— after 
 some discussion with the other Indians — 
 "Wah-he o." I supposed him correcliiii^ 
 me. and as this particular C!rce query was 
 my fn't'cc (Ic resisfancc, " Wah-he oclic '' 
 — with an accent on the "die" — ajuaiii 
 |)ierced the diilly air. and a<;ain he re- 
 torted. "Wall-he (').'' Then we wah-htvo- 
 che'd and wah-h(!-o"d until eadi sul)sideil 
 in silence ami dis<;'ust at the others .stu- 
 pidity. 
 
 And so wo travelled down the eastern 
 bay of l?ij;' Jack Kish Lake. It <i()t dark 
 by the time we were well out on the lake; 
 we could not have seen our way in broad 
 daylit^ht, because the snow was thickly 
 fallinj'' and the wind savagely biowiii<f 
 as we blindly followed the tail of our 
 sledji'e. By-and-by I decided w .mist 
 be e'oiiif,^ wroiifi;', for I tlioiij^ht tlie tiibin 
 could not be .so far off as we had come, 
 and I yot John and the doi^s turned about 
 to ji'o back ami into th*^ westei-n bay. Tluf 
 storm was now squarely in our teetli, and 
 the do<j:s would not face it. They kei)t 
 turning and entangling themselves in the 
 harness, while we wei'e faint witli hunger 
 and benumbed with cold, and my ankle 
 seemed bursting with pain. 
 
 I made the nearest a|)i)roach I could in 
 the storm to a bee-line for the jioint. and 
 then followed it around. I had not the 
 remotest idea wiior(> ^lacDonald's house 
 was. but I knew I sliould liave to lind it 
 in the morning to get my bearings; so 
 after we had gone al)()ut as far down 
 the western l)ay as we hail into the east- 
 ern, we camped under a pine-tree, Avliere 
 wood was plentiful, and ate a piece of 
 bacon each and drank a cup of tea, after 
 
 a hard days tramp— which my pedom- 
 eter registered as f.)rty-four miles. Our 
 dogs ale the last of their lish, Jtdin and [ 
 were on half allowance of the poor ra- 
 tions we had, we were lost, and it did not 
 8eeni UH if my u)d<le would permit me to 
 walk another step. The woi-ld was not 
 very bright when we camped that night. 
 
 As we sat sihuilly drinking our tea wo 
 heard something approachine*, and in- 
 stantly alert, with that protectiv*' and 
 hunter's instinct which <'omes to the trav- 
 eller of the wilds, listened intently, until 
 wo discovered the swishing, grating of a 
 sin)W-slioe heel. It was Kipling, a fainous 
 Soto Indian iMiniier, who had couk! to in 
 vite me to MacDonald's cabin, where, but 
 a mile beyond, they had seen our camj)- 
 lire. James Spencer, the Hudson Hay 
 Company's oflieer in charge of McMui'- 
 ray, had brought thus fai- on its ,iour- 
 ney the one winter i)acket that reaches 
 the railroad from this isolated wilderness, 
 and was i-eturnitig the lu'xt moi'uing- 
 early. Here was good news indeed, and 
 good luck — the first of my trip. Hut 
 .loliu had stuck by me, and 1 was not go- 
 ing to leave him on the coiidusiou of so 
 hard a day; lheiefor«! I sent my grateful 
 thanks to Spencer, saying 1 would be on 
 liand the following morning. And so the 
 clouds rolled away, and the worry within 
 and the storm without ceased as I lay 
 down to sleep that night. 
 
 It was a very lively scene at ^lacDon- 
 ald's next morning, and a most interest- 
 ing one to me; for the ])acket was start- 
 ing on its last stage, and as to carry the 
 })acket is one of the few lioiiors in tin; 
 country, the dogs were hamlsomer and 
 more gayly harnessed than any I had 
 seen. It was only seventy miles to 
 McMurray, but the two days we consumed 
 ill getting there were most trying, and I 
 shall never forget the ten-mile crossing 
 of Swan Lake the lirst morning. We 
 camju'd for dinner midway, on an island, 
 but it seemed as though I should never 
 reacli it; and a mirage added confusion 
 by i)laciiig it now near i)y and then far 
 away, and all the time the hai'd ice made 
 running particularly torlui'ing to my an- 
 kle. The tea was made by tlie time I final- 
 ly ])ut my foot on that island. It was 
 exceedingly hard going for men and dogs 
 all the way to ]\Ic^^urray. for the trail led 
 down Clear W.iter River, on which the 
 supplies in early days were brought into 
 tlie country, and the snow was deep. We 
 
ON SNOW SlIoKS TO rilK HAHUKN (JHorNDS. 
 
 $9S 
 
 wore all wnni, iiiid I Uiis tliiiiiUriil iiiilrcd 
 wlicii the liylil id' Sprncers ciiliiii pit reed 
 llio darkness and I knew I Imd |nit '^-lli 
 miles of my jonjr jninney lieliind me. 
 
 Iluw 1 i'i'li>|itMl a ouiid wash an<l a sat- 
 iNl'yiii(; nteal I sliall mhI atlenipl, to Huy; 
 few <d" my readers have yone withoiil 
 eilhei- or Ix'th, and eoiild not appieeiale 
 my feeiinji'H. Nor could I adecpialely e.\- 
 pi'css my yi'atiliide to Speneer and his 
 wife for llieir iineeasinj; kindness. I 
 spent one day at. MeMiin-ay, wliieli is ]i> 
 caled at the Junction of the Clear Water 
 and Alhal)asca rivers, doctoriny my an- 
 kl(3 and iiwaitin;^' I'resli i\uffH ami ^'uides; 
 for here John and his do^s, alter a rest, 
 turned hack. If Spencer had heen ol" 
 Gaii'dner's sort. I should have heen ih'- 
 iayed a^^ain. for nont! o( the Indians look 
 kindly t(t the trip on to ( "hipeu yan, iIk! 
 iK'.xt post. Thos(( that had pronii.sed hack- 
 ed out, and linally Spencer turiu'd ovtM* 
 to nn' th(! train whicdi had hrouyiit the 
 packet from ('hi|)e\vyan to ^h'Murray. 
 There were four e()«)d stron"' iU><is\ Fran- 
 (;ois. French ha!f-hreed,omi of the hest doy- 
 driversand rumwrs in tin; land ; and "( )ld" 
 Jacoh, a Soto Indian, to hreak trail, who 
 as younj;' .Jacoh was famous for stren<;lli 
 and speed, and who ev<'n now could heat 
 all hut i\u' very hest on snow-shoes. 
 iJoth could talk and understand enou<>li 
 
 I'lntrlish to nnd\e some sort of conversation 
 po.s.>d)|e, and Itotli kneu I he road, so that 
 the clouds revealed only tln'ir silver lin- 
 in;,' as we started out from McMurray. I 
 was not sei'kin)4 liduhic, hut it came just 
 the satne. 1 had never worn inoccasinH 
 until I left La ISiclie. I had ne\ci- used 
 the wch snou shoe until I hfl .Me.M iirray, 
 and therefore the second day out my feet 
 were so hiisli'li'd and Ia<'erated hy tl 
 lacin;.;'s that hlood dyed my dntVel. a: 
 walking' was a^rony. Hitherto I had her 
 counting my pro^rress hy days; m)w I 
 reckoned hy tin; II res, of which we made 
 three daily, when w(> drank tea and my 
 misery enjoyed a hrief i-cspite. It was 
 cold, hitterly cold, and the wind swept u|> 
 the Alhahasca Uiver, down which wt-trav- 
 (dled, apparently <'oinin;i- directly from the 
 north pole. liut neither wind nor pain- 
 ful travelline- nor hun^fer, which we c,\ 
 perieiH'ed th(! last two days, delayed us, 
 ami when we linally reacdied the shores of 
 Lake Athahasca, and viewed the liiulson 
 Hay Company's forllike post four mile.s 
 away, it was like a si^^ht of the pi'oin- 
 isetl land. I had heen twenty days on 
 the road, and come ahout HSU miles from 
 the railroa<l.so that, what with lacerated 
 feet, twisted aid<le, and fati;;in.', 1 was 
 pretty widl used up when I passed through 
 the gateway of Fort Chipewyun. 
 
 I i "• » 
 
 i i 
 
 V * 
 
 -v...!*-'*' 
 
 r" 
 
 :v» . -.,.*.^iWS?Li?.. 
 
 FOHT CIIII'KWVAN. 
 

 
 3^^ 
 
 IT© Thi 
 
 £aspj\i W. MsiiaTsaiY 
 
 III.— A WOOD-RISOX HUNT. 
 
 m 
 
 o 
 
 
 C1HIPEWYAX lias many claims to dis- 
 J liiR'tioii. Built substaiilialiy upon 
 one of the numerous rocky ])oiiits wliicji 
 break the one InmclrcHl and lifty miles of 
 Athabasca Lake's north shore line, it is 
 the most picturesquely situated and most 
 ))opixlous oasis in this silent white coun- 
 try. It is headquarters of one of the 
 foui' districts into which tliis vast fur- 
 hearinjif land of one million sqnai-e miles 
 is divided by the Hudson Bay Coni])any; 
 the chief forwarding' ])()int for tin; mer- 
 chandise which tile company sends in for 
 trade, and the fur the Indians send out 
 as pay; a general distributiiiii' post-ollice 
 of the four yearly mails which reach this 
 land, where man is but a mere track upon 
 the snow, and not above one hundred of 
 the roughly upproximated ten thousand 
 read English writing. It is the most im- 
 portant North-land mission of the Roman 
 Catholic Oblates Fathers, and it is i)rac- 
 tically the iiortli(M'ii boundary of the 
 Cree and the southern bouiulary of tlH> 
 Montagnaise Indian family, which in its 
 various branches spreads toward the Arc- 
 tic Ocean. 
 
 I am sure Dr. W. M. Mackay, the Hud- 
 son Bay Company olHcer in charge, and 
 liis right and left bowers, "Ned"' Cauisell 
 and "Sam" Emerson, would consider 
 that I had slighted Chipewyaii if I failed 
 to record the further eminence it enjoys 
 in having two streets. I was never able, 
 unaided, to discover more than the oik; 
 whicli separates the |)ost"s dozen log cai)- 
 ins from the lake. l)Ul that may have been 
 due to the dellection of my compass nee- 
 dle. At all events, after McMiirray, with 
 
 Vol. XCII.-No. 51'.).- 38 
 
 its four cabins, it seemed metropolitan, 
 though of its "census" of four hundred 
 men, women, and children only a small 
 ])ercentage is in actual residence. This 
 is equally true of all the i)osts. The real 
 dwellers within the settlements are a 
 comparative handful, comprising chielly 
 the mission people, the company servants, 
 and a few "freemen." as those who have 
 S(M'ved their five years" enlistment and 
 set up a little indei)eiideiicy of lal)oi- are 
 called. Those that live within the com- 
 l)any's gates are chietly half-breeds. In 
 sunnner they catch and dry the fish 
 which forms tin; chief article of food for 
 men and dogs, or work on the company 
 ilat-boats: and in winter they spend the 
 short days in " tripping."' and the long 
 nights in smoking and talking about 
 their dogs, or in dancing and sleeping. 
 They have no other diversions; no in- 
 dooi" games, no out-door sports. Dancing 
 ar.d sleei)ing are the beginning and end- 
 ing of their recreation, and I would not 
 venture an opinion as to the more popu- 
 lar; cei'tainly they have an alniormal ca- 
 ])a('ity for either. 
 
 This applies to the men. Life is a 
 more .serious atl'air for the women. They 
 too sleep and dance and smoke, but their 
 sleeping conies as a wcUeai-ned res})ite 
 after the day"s toil ; their dancing has 
 the outward ai)pearance of a sacrifice, to 
 which they an^ silently resigned, and 
 smoking is an accompaniment to woi'k 
 rather than a diversion in itself. The 
 woman is the country drudge. Her work 
 is never linislied. She clio[)s the lire- 
 wood, dries the lish and meat, snares rab- 
 
360 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 bits, ;iiul ciii'i'ics liur (;;itch into tlie post 
 on lier buck; scr;ip(3.s and tans the moose 
 and caribou liidcs, from tlie latter of 
 which slie afterwards malces " babiche " 
 by cullin<j it into strings an eiyhtli of an 
 inch wide; hices the snow-slioes, malces 
 and embroiders witii beads the mittens, 
 moccasins, and lef,''f,''inj;s; yields the lion's 
 share of tiie scanty larder to her husband 
 wlien he is at home luxuriating- in smoke 
 and sleep, and, when he is away, gives 
 her children her tiny pret (allowance) 
 of lisli and goes hungry without a mur- 
 mur. 
 
 This is the woman of the post. She of 
 the woods, the full-blooded .squaw, and 
 tliere are few Indians that ever take up a 
 l)ermanent abode in the settlement, does 
 all this and more. In addition to cliop- 
 ping the lirewood, she seeks and hauls 
 it; not only dries, but catches the fish; 
 goes after and quarters and bi'ings in 
 the game her master has killed; breaks 
 camp, and i)ilclies it again where the hus- 
 band, who has gone on ahead with no 
 load but his gun and no thought except 
 for the hunt, and whose trail she has fol- 
 lowed, indicates by sticking up brush in 
 tlu; snow. When there is plenty she 
 makes her meal on that which her lord 
 leaves,and when tliere is little .she starves, 
 along witli her children and the dogs. 
 
 The Indian is the sj'bariteof the N(U'th- 
 land. and the only genuine socialist on 
 earth. He holds all tlie po.ssessions of 
 his country equally with his tribe, feasts 
 and fasts and sorrows and rejoices in 
 common, and roams where his legs carry 
 and there is game for his gun. Wiien 
 there is abundance he smokes his pipe in 
 hai)py indolence, and his wife does the 
 work; when there is no meat for the 
 kettle he .shoulders his gun and goes out 
 into the woods, leaving care and hunger 
 at home with the squaw. But he by no 
 means invarii'l)ly escai)es hunger. It is 
 ever a feast or a famine with him, and it 
 might always be a feast were he not so 
 improvident and lazy. Clothing and food 
 are at his very door. In the rivers and 
 lakes there is lish in great quantity and 
 variety; along theii- banks, lisher. otter, 
 mink, beaver, and musk rat: and in the 
 forests, moo.se, caribou, bear, lynx, fox, 
 wolf, wolverene, marten, ermin(\ an<l 
 ral)l)its — to say nothing of the early 
 spring and autumn migrations of ducks 
 and gi'ese, the ])acics of ptarmigan, which 
 ill their changing plumage of brown and 
 
 white are to be seen summer and winter, 
 and the .several other species of the 
 grouse family that may be found the 
 greater part of the year. There is no 
 occasion for an Indian to starve in this 
 country, if he keeps out of the Barren 
 Grounds; but hunting demands skill, of 
 which he has less than any other red man 
 I ever knew, and a never failing cache 
 presupposes foresight, of which he has 
 none — so that, in ti'uth, he fasts more 
 often than he feasts. 
 
 The dogs share eqiuilly the good luck 
 or misfortune of their masters. The Ind- 
 ian is moi'e i-egardful of his dogs than of 
 his women, for dog-s are less numerous 
 than squaws, and necessary to his sup- 
 port. The driver lashes them merciless- 
 ly with his whip and beats them bi'U- 
 tally with clubs, but lie never fails to 
 include their rations in his sledge-load, 
 nor to divide his last lish for their bene- 
 lit. It is not goodness of heart that stirs 
 his consideration, out fear for his own 
 safety and the loss of an indispensable 
 draught animal. Without his dogs he 
 would be compelled to pack on his back 
 what he now packs in tlie sledge, to drag 
 his game out of tlie woods, and carry his 
 furs to the post, while the loss of dogs 
 en route might mean for him delay, star- 
 vation — po.ssibly death. 
 
 In the great civilized world the dog 
 has been called man's best friend ; in this 
 limitless stretch of snow and desolation 
 and need he may be declared man's only 
 friend ; in the grcuid paijs he has 
 earned the trust witlu)ut the test; here 
 in this lone land he is being continuous- 
 ly' tried, and never found wanting. He 
 has no pedigree, and he may be of any 
 color, but his usual ai)))earance is that 
 of a fairly long headed, sharp nosed mon- 
 grel, well tucked up behind, with big feet, 
 and a coat of hair equal to that of a cub. 
 To call these dogs "huskies" is an eri'or 
 common to nearly every one who has had 
 anything to say on the subject. The 
 word "husky" is North -laud slang for 
 Eskimo, and is generally applied to that 
 arctic denizen himscdf, as well as to every- 
 thing belonging to him. Their dogs 
 are ])roperly called hu.skics, and thus it 
 has come about that all dogs used to drag 
 a sledge are ignorantly so called. The 
 genuine husky is a distinct species, lar- 
 ger, more pouerful, and faster, and is not 
 easily to be had. sinc»» the Eskimos, like 
 the Indians, are somewiiat indilt'erent to 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 361 
 
 their breeding', juid good dogs are liiglily 
 l)rizt'd. Moreover, there is no coinniuni- 
 catioii between the EsUiinos and llie more 
 southern Indians, so tliat a genuine hus- 
 ky is a mm acis below tlie arc-tie coast. 
 The Indians say their dogs are descend- 
 ed from tlie wolf, and certainly appear- 
 ances do not belie tiie a,ssertion. Names 
 
 Roman Catholic mission's train at the 
 same post; and that of Beniali, the Indian 
 leader with whom I went into th<' Barren 
 Grounds. Spencer and McKinlev proba- 
 bly liavt! the two best trains in Uie coun- 
 try, which they have bred from sepa- 
 rate bitches that had some Newfoundland 
 blood in them, and were the onlv do<js I 
 
 
 are more plentiful than dogs, and the saw tliat would come to harness on call, 
 mostconunonly heard 
 are Castor. Oabry.Sol- 
 dat. Ctosar, Cabrel, 
 Cotl'ee, Milord, the 
 populai" ones being 
 always tlio.se of two 
 syllal)les, with an R 
 tiuit may be rolled 
 out to the whip's ac- 
 companiment. Near- 
 ly every post lias a 
 Bull and a Whiskey 
 — only the name of 
 that civilized stimu- 
 lant can be found in 
 all this land, though 
 occasional liilarity is 
 develojjed by .sonu^ 
 poor stuflf made from 
 sugar, and called beer. 
 Whiskey was invari- 
 ably the most forlorn- 
 looking dog in the 
 pack, while the laziest 
 brutes I encountered 
 were Bulls. 
 
 One would suppose 
 thai in a country lit- 
 erally dependent on 
 doys for winter trans- 
 portation, quantity 
 and at least some de- 
 gree of quality would 
 be kept up. And yet 
 the facts are directly 
 the reverse. Not onlv 
 
 WAK-KO.NNKT. 
 
 Beyond the " fore- 
 goer," upon whom the 
 iiM^anings of ma-a-r- 
 r-che (start), e- u-u 
 (right), ./« (left), and 
 (choa are impressed 
 b^- a club, and the 
 steer-dog — as the one 
 at, say, the wheel, to 
 make it comprehensi- 
 ble, is called — there 
 is no training. The 
 foregoer follows the 
 trail and .sets the pace. 
 Tlie steer-dog keeps 
 tlie sledge upon a 
 slanting track, and 
 guides it through 
 trees and rocks. lie 
 must be strong, and 
 is the most im[)()r- 
 taiit of the four in 
 rough country. As 
 for competent driv- 
 ers, they are even 
 scarcer than good 
 dogs, but the few are 
 exceedingly skilful; 
 and of these. Spencer, 
 McKinley, Gaudet, 
 Fi'aiKj'ois and his l)ro- 
 ther William at Chip- 
 ewyan, Michael, the 
 interpreter at Reso- 
 lution, and the Cath 
 olic "brother,'' whose 
 
 is quality wanting, but the quantity is name I never knew, at Resolution, are 
 limited. The Hudson Bay Company, easily the best. The diU'eience between 
 strangely enough, seems to have made a good and a bad driver is that the former 
 no ert'ort to improve or even establi.sh a knows liow and wlien to handle his 
 breed, and at tluMr more important posts sledge to ease the dogs, keeps them all 
 rarely maintain more than one train, up to their work, and does not "force" 
 and never more than two. Throughout (urge) them at imi)roper times. The 
 the length of my trip I saw just seven bad driver spends his enei'gy in throw- 
 trains of dogs that could be called lirst ing clubs at the foregoer and lashing 
 class — Spencei''s at McMurray; two be- the steer dog, chiefly becau.se the latter 
 longing to the Hudson Bay Company at is witiiin easy reach. He permits the 
 Chipewyan; McKinley's.tiie Hudson Bay sledge to slide hither and thither, to the 
 Company othcer at Fort Smith ; Gaudet's. exceeding wear and tear of the steer- 
 the company's oHicer at Resolution ; the dog. Now and then he stops the train 
 
302 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 :iii(l lashes tlio (loft's all i-oiiiid. and at all 
 times lie is forcing tlieiii. Only trains 
 made up nf exce})ti(>nal dof^s last more 
 than a eouple of seasons, and once their 
 nscfulncss is ))assed the ])oor hriites are 
 lui'iicd loos(> to seek a living' where those 
 tor whom food is provided are more fre- 
 (lueiitly hiingvy than satisfied. Their 
 vayran(!y is usually short-lived — death 
 by starvation or freezin*,'' comes speedily 
 to their relief. 
 
 The farther north, tiie better the dogs 
 and nior(> <i'aiuly their harness and trap- 
 ping's. Tln'y are always savaye and sus- 
 l)i('ious and noisy. l)ut to the south, tow- 
 ards La Biche. tiicv are miserable in body 
 
 HA.ND WAKMEKS OK THK \OHTH. 
 
 as well, and are hitched (o the sledge 
 with hanuvss jjurely Indian, and utterly 
 devoid of adornment. Strangely enough, 
 the Indian, who likes to decorate bis own 
 jjersoii, as a rule utterly ignores that of 
 his dog, though he may paint the moo.se- 
 skin which covers the head of his sledge, 
 or hang tufts of hair or yam upon it. as 
 he does soinrt imes on the toes of his snow- 
 shoes. All harness is made of moose- 
 skin, hut at Chipewyan and north it is 
 fashioned better, and there are, besides. 
 
 loin-cloths, calh'd topifi, cov(>red with 
 bells and embroidery, and vivid jiompons 
 "tuck into the collars, and lloating rib- 
 bons of many contrasting coloi-s. Add to 
 this a driver in l>eaded moccasins, leggings, 
 and mittens, with a L'Assitiiipfio)i sash 
 about his waist, a caribou-skin capote on 
 his back, and a fancifully ornamented 
 and ljeta.s.selled "Tommy Atkins" caj) on 
 his bead, and the North-land expi'ess is 
 complete and at its best. Indeed, thei'e is 
 no combination more sjjrightly than a dog 
 brigade, with its brilliant and many-lined 
 tapia, its nodding i)ompoiis ;ind streaming 
 ribbons, and its iiicturesciuely costumed 
 driver. There is no sensation more ex- 
 hilarating than running with the dogs on 
 snow-.shoes and a good track, to the jing- 
 ling of the bells — when stoi'in obscures the 
 poinjjons, and wind drowns the, jingle. and 
 there is nothing in the sledge to eat, the 
 sen.sation is not so enlivening. 
 
 These dogs are certainly notable trav- 
 ellers, from the best fed down to the pu- 
 niest of tiie Indian species, which are 
 contemptuously called giddes by the 
 half - bi'eeds, and are not a great deal 
 lai'ger than a big fox. Tliev draw a hea- 
 vier load, at a faster pace, on less food, 
 and for a greater length of time tha.i one 
 would believe without .seeing. The usual 
 immber toa train is four, and tandem is the 
 mode of bitching them to the sledge, which 
 is about seven feel long by fourteen inches 
 wide, and made of either two or three 
 birch slats held together by cross-bars, and 
 turned over at the head like a toboggan. 
 These four dogs will haul four huiidred 
 pouiuls on a fair track fi-om twenty-five 
 to thirty-live miles a day. In the woods 
 where the snow is deep and the trail nnist 
 be broken the day's trip will be lifteen to 
 twenty miles. On a good lake or river 
 track, drawing a curiole (a passenger 
 sledge), they will go forty to fifty miles a 
 day, and keep it up .several days, and this 
 on two white-fish weighing about three 
 pounds apiece, and given to each dog at 
 night. I saw Gaudet's train bring into 
 Resolution live hundred pounds of cari- 
 bou meat, which remained after supi)ly- 
 ing two men and foui' dogs during a four- 
 day tri[) on Great Slave Lake. Some 
 great stories are told of the loads drawn 
 by the Mackenzie Rivei- dogs, whose tails 
 are docked short, to give a more work- 
 manlike appearance, and keej) the meek 
 and lowly from advertising tlieir shrink- 
 ing nature and spoiling the appearance 
 
ox SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GRorXDS. 
 
 363 
 
 of the train l)y stickinji- I lie on'eiidiiirr 
 tail ijt'twci'ii liicir leys. Il is said lliat 
 cijilit ()!• iiiiic limulrcd, and even a thou- 
 sand, pounds are coniinonly Iiauicd in 
 the ^lackenzie district In- four d()<;s. 
 J>ut 1 am inclined to class tliei'ie stories 
 with those I heard concern iiij,'' the won- 
 derful streuffth of the old time packers. 
 When 1 was ji'oinjj;' in on snow slmes 
 marvellous tales were related for my 
 henetit of men who had cai-ried live 
 and six hundred pounds, and of one 
 particuhu- yiant who had loaded him- 
 self with seven hundred pounds, and 
 had written his iiann^ on the wall with 
 three liundnHl pounds' weiirlit tied to 
 his wrist. When I was coming' out on 
 the Hudson Bay Company's flat-hoat 1 
 discovered no Indian or half-hreed who 
 j)acke(l more than two hu' Ired pounds 
 on his back, while the name - writing 
 Hercules had left no successoi". Snow- 
 shoe running, packing, and canoeing 
 (ire the three most resourceful fields 
 of the Indian story-teller; and of the 
 three, running ufl'ords him greatest 
 scope for his jjeculiar imagination. 
 
 The Indian of the North- land is nei- 
 ther an ing'enious nor a picturesque Mun- 
 chausen. He is just a plain liar, who 
 seems not even to coiiiit on the credulity 
 of his hearer for acceptance of his tales. 
 He lies by choice rather than from ne- 
 cessity, and should the necessity occur he 
 makes a virtue of his lying. Nor is he 
 abaslied if discovered. Really I believe he 
 views every i)lain statement as a lost op- 
 portunity. Every camp fire, every meet- 
 ing at the post, invariably becomes an ex- 
 cuse for the di.scussion of dogs and the 
 recital of astonishing feats of snow-shoe 
 running. The fact that no one of ihe as- 
 semblage ever did or ever could perform 
 the extraordinary feats recounted does 
 not detract u particle from the quality of 
 the story or its enjoyment by the listen- 
 ers. It's a case of the man with the last 
 story having the best of it. Still, with 
 all his vaingloi'ious talk, tlie Indian is 
 an unhesitating' admirer of real prowess, 
 and good runners are indeed plentiful in 
 this country, where shanks' mare is the 
 (july mount. 
 
 To be a good dog-driver and to run 
 forty miles a day is to be a great man 
 in this land of vast distances. There 
 are instances where men have gone far- 
 ther, but in most cases the going has 
 been exceptional, or the "day"' stretched 
 
 THK NORTH LAND SHOKMAKEB. 
 
 far into the night. In my etFort to ob- 
 tain authenticated information on. big' 
 runs I found the '" day "" most elastic, ex- 
 tending, in fact, the full twenty -four 
 houi's, from midnight to midnight, and 
 the "running"' of the m;in to include 
 riding' on the sledge now and then when 
 the going was extra good. The liest day 
 of actual running' I was al>le to corrobo- 
 rate was sixty miles, done between (I .v.M. 
 and ii.llO P.M. by Alexander J.iiiklelter. an 
 English-Cree half-breed now at C'hipe- 
 wyan, who made two fires en route. 
 Another halfbi'eed covered eighty miles 
 between midnight and nine o'clock of 
 the next night, and an Indian went sev- 
 enty miles between ;? A.M. and > P.M., l)ut 
 these are notable cliielly because of the 
 dogs' endui'ance, for both men rode nu)st 
 of the distance. and neither approaches the 
 performance of Linkletler, who I'an every 
 foot of the way. 
 
 The condition of the going nuikes so 
 great a difference in travelling that thirty 
 miles on one occasion might easily be a 
 more notable perfornunice than fifty miles 
 on another. Taking the avera' " condi- 
 tions of tripping, from twenty-live to thir- 
 ty miles is considei'ed a fair day, thirty- 
 live miles a goo-' day, and forty a big day's 
 work. The roi/ayeiir considers he is ti'iiv- 
 elling well if he makes two fires during 
 
3(34 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 SQUAW LEOGIXCS. 
 
 the day, at which 
 lie drinks tea. and 
 sleeps thirty or 
 tiiirty - five miles 
 nearer his destina- 
 tion every ni;ifht. 
 SpriiifT is popular- 
 ly s])()l<eii of as the 
 time when *' the 
 days are long and 
 the dogs go well," 
 and you travel 
 longer and farther 
 eacli day, but as a 
 matter of fact the 
 season has little to 
 do witli the length 
 of time spent on 
 the road if you 
 are making a long 
 journey and time 
 is an object. Indeed, to me the days al- 
 ways seemed long enough, and tlie dogs 
 to go well enougii. In winter you start 
 at three, make your first '^-e at seven, 
 start again at eight, whic is just about 
 daybreak, have a second fire at eleven, 
 and camp at three, which gives about 
 an hour before dark to cut a supply of 
 lirewood. In spring it is daylight long 
 before you start at six, and iong after 
 you camp at eight; in fact, in May I 
 wrote in my note book frequently at ten, 
 and it was not really dark at midnight. 
 In midsummer there is no niglit, and in 
 midwinter the short days are of slight 
 significance to the tripper, because the 
 nujon equalizes matters by shining full 
 throughout the ])eriod in which the sun 
 sliines least. 
 
 I have said that Chipewyan is the i)rac- 
 tical dividing -point between two great 
 Indian families, but the traveller who did 
 not hear their speech, which is altogether 
 dissimilar in intonation and word, would 
 iu)t appreciate it. There is no very no- 
 ticeable outwai'd distinction between the 
 Cree and th(> Chii)ewyan Indian, except 
 ix^ssibly the face of the laltei" is broader. 
 Otherwise they have about the same phys- 
 ical characteristics — high cheek-bones, 
 large mouth, African nose, dirty yellow- 
 ish -oclii'e complexion, coarse straight 
 black hail', and spar.se mustache seen oc- 
 casionally. Tli(\v are nevei'corpulent.and 
 never clean. Ethically there is no choice 
 between them: their capacity and preju- 
 dice for lying are equal, and one is as 
 untrustworthy as the other. Generally 
 
 speaking, neither the men nor the women 
 are good to look upon ; but of course there 
 are exceptions to (^very rule, and I think 
 the exceptions in this case are more often 
 Cree. The half breeds are generally muvo. 
 agreeable to the eye; some of the women 
 are even good-looking: and one of them, 
 a (laughter of Michael ^Manderville, the 
 interpreter at Greiit Slave Lake, has ex- 
 cellent feiUures. a sweet expression, and 
 is quite the belle of the Jiortli country, 
 though the wives of S|)encer and of Chip- 
 ewyan FraiH;ois press her very closely for 
 the honor. 
 
 As to philological difVerences, they are 
 too intricate to understand without long 
 study, and too many for exploitation 
 here. It will answer our purpose to know 
 that the Cree nation is one of the largest 
 of the Lenni-Lennappe family, itself the 
 most widely distributed of the three great 
 divisions— Floridean, Iroquois, and Ijenni- 
 Lennappe. The Cree is i-eally a plains 
 Indian, and as such superior to the few 
 of the family in the North-land who are 
 called Wood Cree. The Tene. or Mon- 
 tagnaise, is the great nation wlii'-h 
 spreads between the Rocky Mountains 
 and Hudson Bay, and extends in its va- 
 rious tribes and dialects down to the 
 arctic. Of these tiibes the chief are 
 Chipewyan, Yellow Knives, Dog- Ribs, 
 Slaveys, Hare, Caribou - Eaters, whose 
 language has mere dialectic differences. 
 Then there are the Loiicheux, on the ^lac- 
 kenzie River, which have a more distinct 
 tongue, sharper features, almoiid-sluiiied 
 eyes, and are the most intelligent and 
 thrifty Indians in the country; and the 
 Eskimo, that never hunt more than a 
 hundred miles south of the arctic coast, 
 iiave their own variation of the Eskimo 
 
 PAPPOO.SE IN ITS MOSS HAQ. 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 spooch, and. notably eiioiipli. avorafjo of 
 {^icatcr stature than is conmioMly Ix- 
 lievcd of tliis ])('op|<'. 
 
 Missionaries have now readied all these 
 trilx's from thedilVerent lliidson Jia y Com 
 pany posts, and IImmi- labors have been 
 rewarded l)y the ontward aceeptanet^ of 
 their doctrines by a larg'e niunber of the 
 Indians that come into the jjosts to ti'ad<'. 
 The Fi'eneh lialf-breeds. and certainly 
 seventy-live ])er cent, of the convert- 
 ed Indians, have adopted the Roman 
 Catliolic faith: the reniaindei- have 
 Iteen won over to the Protestants. 
 The most tangible evidences of church 
 inlluence thus far seen are in the very 
 j^enei-al disapj)earance of the medicine- 
 man and the suppression of polygamy 
 and incest. So far as I could learn, 
 the Indians never had any defined wor- 
 ship. Their relij^ion was and is on<! of 
 fear. Thej' are ever propitiating the 
 bad spirits, the demons of their dreams, 
 and the imaginary "enemy" of the 
 woods. I have seen burned leggings, 
 worn-out moccasins, and broken snow- 
 shoes hung up as peace .sacifices to 
 clumge bad luck in hunting or a head- 
 wind in tripping, and I never failed to 
 note tlie predominant avarice stronger 
 than the superstition, as revealed by 
 the worthle.ss character of the offer- 
 ings. They lean to an inferior spe- 
 cies of "totemism," although no reli- 
 gious ceremony was ever attached to 
 its acceptance. Any animal or bird 
 dreamed of used to be, and is yet in a 
 minor degree, taken as the dreamer's 
 totem. The medicine-man lias gone, 
 but has left the old superstitions and 
 the pronounced fatalism, which the mis- 
 sionaries liave not succeeded in destroy- 
 ing. 
 
 They conform to the ceremonies of re- 
 ligion, but little of true Christianity has 
 been developed. It has been a change of 
 method rather than of heart. Formerly 
 female babies wei'e killed on birth; now 
 the\' live to l^ecome beasts of burden. 
 Parents nsed to be strangled when they 
 grew too old to seek a living; now they 
 are left to slowly starve to death. In the 
 old times men openly exchanged wives 
 for a shorter or longer period ; now the 
 number of virtuous girls is very small, 
 and wise indeed is the son who knows 
 his father in this vale of unconvention- 
 ality. The dead used to be swung in 
 trees or hung from four posts, where the 
 
 wind roclced thtMn in their eternal sleep; 
 now they are buried in shallow graves. 
 and the wolverc iie guards them by day 
 and feeds on them by night. 
 
 I'riests liav(> not yet taught th(> Indians 
 the golden rule, nor implanted respect for 
 virginit \ . Chastity is regarded asa virtue 
 to be honored in the breach i-jitlier than in 
 the observance, and fidelity .seems by lui 
 
 THE BELLE OK THE NORTH COUNTRY. 
 
 means essertial to the happiness of wed- 
 ded life. 
 
 Theses l)e()i)le h.ave not ventured fai- 
 into civilization. Take fi-om tlie Indian 
 his copper kettle, steel knife, and ..'iOljore 
 muzzle - loading gun, ami give him his 
 birch-hark "rogan," moose-bone, beaver- 
 tooth, and flint-stone knives and bow, and 
 lu' is just about where he was when the 
 Hudson Bay Company brought the trin- 
 kets of the great world to him. Agri- 
 cultural knowledg(! is of no use to him, 
 because his country is not suNceptii)le of 
 cultivation, except in a U'w rare and iso- 
 lated s])ots. And there ai'(^ no native in- 
 dustries of any description, no weaving 
 of blankets, no making of jewelry or 
 pottery, al)solutely nothing beyond some 
 inditt'erent beading and i)orcupine-quill 
 
:»!6 
 
 ILARPKirS NKW MOXTrir.Y MAGAZINK 
 
 work, wliicli is (loin- l),v scvcimI dtli. i 
 Irilx's, iiiid l)y iioiic so \v«.'ll as lt_v llic -Na- 
 vajiis. 
 
 As for sciitiiMciit. they liavci none lio- 
 yoiul that toi'i)oi'ili(; bliss caused liy a I'lill 
 stoinucli. Vcs, tlicy have one oilier — 
 fear. Tliey are iiinsi, al».je<'l cowards. In 
 an eailier paper of tliis sei'ies I spoke of 
 a ti'ift of iiioeeasiiis c;oii Veyiiij^' indication 
 of a tender sentiment : i)nt that sentiment 
 is r<'lative. Tlie men marry to have 
 some one to make moccasins foi- them, 
 and the women marry itecaiise, poor 
 tliiii},^s, they liav(^ little clioice in tln^ mat- 
 ter, and that litll(! prol)al)ly siiji'jrests it 
 is l)(>tter to l)e the servant of one man 
 than the drndye of a family, 'i'liere are 
 no playful displays of maternal aU'ection. 
 I tliiiik I saw just one? instance of the 
 kind on my trip; and. on the other hand, 
 I saw ()ne younj;' mothei' take lier cryin<( 
 ami moss-hay enveh)ped hahy out of the 
 lodj;-e and stand it up in the snow to 
 weep itself into exhaustion I Tiiere ai'C 
 no ji'entle woi'ds to convey the tender so- 
 licitudes of coiirlship, no terms of ordi- 
 nary i)oIiteness: only in the Louclieu.x 
 tonfjuo can thanks he expressed. 'J'he 
 exposure to which they are suhjected in 
 tlieir wandiM'inji's. and the witheriiii;- of the 
 famines and yluttony of the feasts, com- 
 bine to bi'cak down health and shorten 
 life. And the jireatest blessing they en- 
 joy prol)al)ly is chat thoydie comparative- 
 ly younj;-. and yo, wluM'ever it may be, to 
 a i)lace which they make sure cannot ije 
 more barren of comfort or pleasure. 
 
 It mu.st not be supposed that my re- 
 searches at Chipewyan tauyht me all 
 this, oi- that all I have said applies to the 
 country immediately about that post. 
 But while I am liyuratively resting my 
 ankle under Dr. ]\Iackay"s I'oof I have 
 told sometliinji' of the i)eo))le and the 
 country into which I am ])usliing. I 
 r(>sted only one day at C'liipewyan. and 
 wilh the exception of a most interesting 
 visit to the Ivoinau Catholic mi.ssion. in 
 cliai'ii'e of Bishop (Irouai'd (wlio is ])ursu- 
 inj,"- the only practical course of Indian 
 civilization by l)ej^'inniii<;' with tli(> chil- 
 dren). I spiMit my time jictting my feet 
 and ankle in condition for the onward 
 journey, and in talkinj^' with (he docloi', 
 who isone of the real and prominent "old- 
 timers." Two others are .). S. Canisell. 
 the Hud.son Bay Company oilicer at Fort 
 Simpson, on the Mackenzi«>. one of the 
 most popular factors and hardiest voy- 
 
 -.-//.)/rs' ill the country, and ( '. !'. (laudet. 
 in chaij^e of K<irl Oood J lope, on tie 
 same rivir. 
 
 Xothini;' commanded my earnest atten- 
 tion moi'c completely than this mission 
 of the (>blates Fathers, wilh its i)ishop, 
 three i)rothers. six nuns, forty school- 
 cliildreii, and a saw niill. Here, hundi-eds 
 of miles from skilled labor, they have 
 whipped out the planks for tlieii- (diui'ch. 
 invented a written laniiuai:*'. soniew hat 
 aflei the Kiiyplian in character, taujiht it 
 with slijiht modilicalions to bolh Clii])e- 
 wyan and Vvi'v. pi'inted and hound the 
 Test:! men ts and the jiible for distribution, 
 and yonc^ out into tiu' woods to hunt 
 tlu'ir meat, and to sull'ei' from cold, i)(r- 
 liaps to starve, alonj;' with the Indians to 
 u bom they would preach theWord of (Jod, 
 ] caie not whether one"s form of belief be 
 for or aiiainst the doctrine i)reached by 
 these men. one must be petty indeed wlio 
 does not respect these woi'kei's, who. Kast 
 and West. North and South, have <:()ne 
 far in advance of the pioneer, far beyond 
 the plaudits of civilixiitioii. to carry their 
 faith into the vei'y heart of the wildei'iiess. 
 
 Of Chipewyan' itself there is little to 
 .say, other than it was from this jioint, 
 then a jiost of the Northwest Company, 
 that Sii' Alexander Macken/.ii! in iTS'.llook 
 his departure for his voyaji'c of discovery ; 
 and here. too. Sir .lolin Franklin spent 
 some timt! previous to embarkin<i' on the 
 Irij) which I'esiilted in the starvation of 
 .sevei-al of his i)ai'ty. and eventually in his 
 own death. 
 
 I was <;iven the same assurances here 
 that I had received all alonj? my trip, of 
 not beiny able to y'et into the Ijari'en 
 Grounds and out aizain in winter, but Di". 
 Mackay was uood enouii'h to yield to my 
 determination to make the attempt, and 
 to aid me by advice, and. what was more 
 to the ))oint. to place two of the ])ost's 
 best trains of (1ol;s at my disposal. One 
 of these was foi'the luy'<i"a<i;e. and the oth- 
 ei' to carry nH> one day on my journey, 
 and then turn back, in order that my an- 
 kle, still v(M'y sensitive, should have an- 
 other day"s I'est. AVe left Clii|)ewyan 
 on .l.-inuary 24ih, in greater style than I 
 all'ected at any subseciuent time, wilh 
 [Maurice. on(> of the celebrated Beaulieu 
 family, I'unn in;,'' before thedoys, and Rod- 
 erick Fleet and William I'ini. Enj^'lisli 
 .Mild French half-breeds respectively, do- 
 iiiii' the (Iri villi:'. 1 cannot declare my lirst 
 experience iji a cariole to have been one 
 
 o 
 > 
 
y. 
 
 n- 
 11- 
 m 
 I 
 ith 
 ou 
 )d- 
 ish 
 lo- 
 rst 
 )iie 
 
 w 
 
 > 
 
868 
 
 HAKI'KkS NKW MONTHLY MAGAZINK. 
 
 of iiMiillovcd plcusiirc. it saved iiiv aiiklf, 
 nnd for tliiil I was of coiirso oratc'fiil , but 
 despite all the furs it is iiiiserahly eold 
 tiMveiliiii;-. and. wlial is e(jiiaily as tvy- 
 jiijf, the eai'iole k(!ei)s iipseltiiit^', unless 
 you are on a well-worn lake or river 
 track, an I yon. linndled up in furs, ari^ 
 drjioocd alony face downwards, like a 
 bay of meal, until the driver sets you n|) 
 aijfain. William w;is very attentive, but 
 not all his care made me reyret when the 
 llrst day was over and my riding' at an 
 ond. 
 
 We camped that ni<;-lit at tlio junction 
 of lh(! Peace and S|av(; rivers, and when 
 we started tin? next morninji', lony before 
 daylij;hf, the temperatui'O was :]'t' below 
 zero, and our rout(! lay down the Slave 
 River. I noted vei-y little ditt'erence 
 b(itween tin; .scenery of this aiul that of 
 the Athal)asca River— unless jjossibly the 
 banks of the latter i\vt\ somewhat hij^her 
 and more heavily wooded. In fact, there 
 is slight ciian<4'0 in the scene any where in 
 the countiy. except that caused by the 
 •ifradual diminution of lind)er as you pfo 
 north, until it dwarfs into the "land of 
 little sticks," above Great Slave Lake, 
 and disappears altou'etlier at the Barren 
 (irounds. It is a country where the wa- 
 tercourses are the highways — for canoes 
 in summer and snow-shoes in winter. 
 The land is without roads, aiul stray where 
 you will, you may stand on unexplored 
 soil. The river-banks are well timbered, 
 bill back of them stretches away, far be- 
 yond the Indian.s' ken, the trackless, uii- 
 inhabitai)le muske<>'. 
 
 My joy at being out of the cariole was 
 brief, for the pain of my ankle was inten- 
 sified by the hard track on which we 
 were running, and the ice was full of 
 cracks and holes, which in darkness are 
 always dangerous to the roj/ageii)', and 
 w(!re especially so to me in my crippled 
 condition. We had the coldest weather I 
 experienced before reaching the Bai'rens, 
 the mercui'v touch inj^' i){)° below the sec- 
 ond niyiit, aiul beginning' at 42° and go- 
 ing- to 48° on the third day. The only 
 relief I had to the nu)notony of travel 
 was afforded me by Roderick aiul Mau- 
 rice in setting fox-traps, and my own ex- 
 l)eriment with a pair of Norwegian snow- 
 shoes (skis), wliich I had made at Chip- 
 ewyan, and that I found inferior to the 
 web shoe. 
 
 Altliougli we were, indeed, going along 
 at a pretty lively gait, and quite fast 
 
 enough \<>v my physical condition, my 
 mental half chafed at IIk; |)ace. and was 
 impatient to reach Kort Smith. My eyes 
 had been on this post ever sinc<' I left lh(> 
 railroad. It seemed the Mecca of my 
 trip, for here lived James McKinley. the 
 only man who could leally give me any 
 information of the Barren (Jrounds, as 
 he not only had been stationed at (ireat 
 Slave Lake, but made a summer trij) to 
 that land of desolation with Wjirbni'ton 
 i'ike. But the way was hard and the 
 long stretches of river disheai'tcniiig. It 
 is an interesting fact that I always fouiul 
 I travelled easier where the river was tor- 
 tuous, foi', though knowing the distance 
 to be none the less, the many bends gave 
 heart to reach the point beyond, while 
 when I caniff upon a long stretch the 
 bare work of i-unning stared me in the 
 face, and the distance seemed twofold. 
 We really made very good time, and ar- 
 I'ived at Fort Smith on the morning of 
 the 27th. having been three days and two 
 houi's doing the US miles. 
 
 Though pre])ared for a cordial reception 
 at the post, since McKinley "s big heart 
 ami helping iiand are known from eiul to 
 end of the North-land, the heartiiu>ss of 
 my welcome and the solicitude, for my 
 coiulition quite overpowered me. To one 
 coming from the pulsing city, where it is 
 '"evei-y man for himself, and the devil 
 take the hindmost," it seems curious to 
 have strangers that know you but in the 
 l)assing take an interest in your move- 
 inents and exhibit concern for your com- 
 fort. 
 
 I was soon sitting in McKinley 's unpre- 
 tentious cabin, Avith the water he had 
 brought soothing my swollen feet, and the 
 tea his wife had brewed wai'ining me. 
 When I was refreshed, McKinley made me 
 lie down,aJul then we talked of my pro- 
 posed hunt foi- nuisk-ox. He reiterated the 
 assurances I had received ever since start- 
 ing that I could not get into the Barrens 
 in midwinter and get out again. He 
 doubted whether I could iiuluce Indians 
 to make the attempt for love or money, but 
 as I was bent on the effort, advised me to 
 try to secure Beniali, a Dog-Rib leader, 
 and one of the best huntei-s and most cou- 
 rageous Indians in the country. He said 
 none of the Indians would be at Slave 
 Lake at this time, and that the only sure 
 way of getting into communication with 
 them was by sending a runner to Res- 
 olution with a letter to Gaudet, the Hud- 
 
ON SNOVV-8HOES TU TlIK MAHHKN (UiOl'NDS. 
 
 yci» 
 
 son l?iiy Coiiipaiiy oflicor 
 ill cliiiiyc, iisUiiiy liiiii to 
 send after li(Miiali. who 
 would very lil<cly be liiint- 
 iiiy ill tli(^ woods six or 
 • 'iyiit days' journey from 
 Slaves Lai<«'. Mcanwliilc 
 he was orjjaiii/.iiii;' •> wood- 
 liison Imiit with Henry 
 Tok(f Miiiin, an Kn;,''Iisli 
 iiian. who had Ijccii in the 
 
 hords lliat have hecn sacrillccd to man's 
 ^frt'i'd. 
 
 Till' niiiski'jj wlicro he ranyes in tiir 
 Nortlilaiid sliows no trail, and if it ditl. 
 it would remain undiscovered, for it is 
 iiiipassalile to the iiunter in summer, 
 and in winter is covered hy snow to the 
 depth of several feet. Really lilth is 
 known of the wood liison. except that he 
 is e-|'adualiy yoiiiy the w;iy of the plains 
 species, from the dilliciillies of niaiiitain- 
 
 ( iiiim:\vvan 
 
 TI(iri'IN(J-MII<PK 
 
 — TllllKK FKKT 
 
 I.OMi. 
 
 country a year, and made injjfan existence where <-limate, pasturage, 
 
 tiiul inuii are ail a<rainst him. 
 Kecentlya law liasheen passed 
 liy the Canadian o'overiinient 
 Ijrohihiting tlieir killing;', luit 
 it will lie impo>sil)le to enfoiNe 
 it. since no mundane power 
 could stop a starviiijjf Indian 
 from shooting if he <,''ot the op 
 Jiortunity. A clieck can he put 
 to .sendiiij,'' out the liide, l)iif 
 that would not prevent killinjr 
 for tlio meat, Moreover, my 
 inquiry did not discover any 
 wholesale slaughter of these 
 animals. 
 
 8ome tliirty years ajro a siid 
 den and exceptional thaw in 
 midwinter, followed l)y a se- 
 vere storm and hitter cold, 
 that covered the snow with 
 ice wliich the bison could not 
 break, caused the death of a 
 very great many from star- 
 vation and freezing. Again, 
 three years ago, aiiolln r thaw 
 and .storm 
 
 a summer and 
 an autumn tri]) 
 into the Bar- 
 I'ens, with the 
 hard luck of getting only a 
 musk cow head, after a most 
 trying experience, and they 
 would be glad to have me join 
 them. Til is accorded with my 
 ]»lans nicely, for I had intend- 
 ed making a i)i.soii hunt, and 
 it could now be accomplished 
 without loss of time — an im- 
 portant consideration — while 
 Jieniah was being found and 
 brought to Resolution. Con- 
 sequently an "express" was 
 despatched to Resolution, and 
 pending the return of Munn, 
 who was in the woods trap- 
 ])ing, and would be back the 
 following day, I rested while 
 "Mc" told me of the country 
 and its people and its life, 
 which he has learned so well 
 in his twenty years' residence. 
 The wood-bison is the once 
 familiar species of our own 
 
 gavetlielnd- 
 
 niKR III'NTINO-SIIOB— 
 
 SIX FKKT I.ONO. 
 
 ians an op- 
 Western plains, grown lieavier in his portunit}' for that dia- 
 retirement from the old life, when the holical diversion of 
 trail of his hunter never grew cold, and crusting, by which nieth- 
 he rested neither by day nor night. lie od some men reared in 
 is the same animal with a more rounded 
 stern, acquired by his life of compara- 
 tive restfulne.ss, and a heavier, darker 
 rolx! to protect him from the colder 
 climate of his adopted home. How 
 long he has been in this country there these were unusual oc- 
 are no nieuns of iDwing. The present casions. Bison are not 
 generation of Indi; ns, and their fathers being killed in large 
 before them, have dways hunted him in numi)ers nor shot fre- 
 a desultory way, but there are no Iradi- qiiently as individuals, 
 tions of an earlier bison, and the co-intry They range over a coun- 
 in which he roams tells no tales. There try too large and too dif- 
 are no well-beaten trails, such as those ficult to reach, and re- 
 which on the plains last even to the quire more skilful hunt- 
 present day, to remind us of the vast ing than the average 
 
 the civilized world hunt 
 deer and moose to this 
 day, and about fifty 
 bison were then run 
 down and killed. But 
 
 i.occiiRrx 
 
 SIX FKKT 
 
 lOE— 
 I.O.SO. 
 
iiro 
 
 IIAIII'KIIS NKW MONTHLY MAdAZINK. 
 
 Iiidiiiii is <M|)iilili' of. Wiii'ii i was ill tin- 
 coiiiili-y liisl winter iiol rvni n l)isoii track 
 had lii-fii s<'(!ii ii|) Id IIk' lime of oill' liiliil. 
 aiiit tlic lit>a<l I oltlaiiicd tliroii^li the ixiiid 
 iicss ul' Dr. NFackay was tin- last out' shut, 
 and that two years Ixd'nrc. So t lie extermi 
 iialion of wood l)is(iii lliroti^li ilieir liiiiil 
 iiiy l)y Indians is nut to he a|i|irelien(ied, 
 w liile tiie reiiiolcness of theii- country, tlio 
 dillieii I ties of access to say iiothintr of the 
 daii^icrs of starvalion and frcezinii' once 
 yon o-et, tliere — proli'ct them from tiie 
 wliite hunter. 
 
 How many wood hisoii there are is not 
 ea.sily eslinialed. I math' dilij^^ent iii- 
 • iniry from all sourc(!S of information, 
 and their iinmhers as told oil' to mh' 
 iMiiLii'd from ir>() to .'$00. .losepli Heaii- 
 lien, at Smilli l.andiny, popularly called 
 "Susie"" hy tiie natives that, cannot mas- 
 ter till' Knt^'lish pronunciation, and anoth- 
 er of the famous Mcanlieii family, said lie 
 helievtid ther(! must, he a tiiouisaiid; lint 
 then "Siisi(*" has tin; common failing of 
 the country, and, moreover, iu^ (h'livered 
 himself of this statement when ho was 
 persiiadin;!' us to tak(^ a liuiit«'r of his i-ec- 
 ommendation, and whom wo afterwards 
 cursed witli all tin? depth and hroadth 
 and warmth of Knylish explelive. 
 
 The hisoii ran^'o in the country hound- 
 ed hy I'eace, Slave, and IJuH'alo rivers, 
 which has an art^a of a <;<)od many liiin- 
 (Ii'cmI miles. As they loam this territory 
 from end to end, and are usually found 
 in small herds, the one of lifty that was 
 killed a few years aj^'o heiiijn' an excep- 
 tional coii^irej^-.uion, and as the Indians 
 )iever hunt niort^ than a v<'r.y small piece 
 of this section in one winter, the diili- 
 cult.y of arriving;' at a close estimate of 
 tlieir total uumher may he uiiderslood. 
 
 Personally 1 am convinced tliat 150 
 comes very near representing their total. 
 Munn and I in our hunt very thorouylily 
 covered tlie larger portion of their more 
 soiitlierly rantice, and discovered the tracks 
 of tliirteeii; Munii in a suhsequent liunt 
 ill a more northerly part of tlieir vaii<;(^ 
 saw the tracks of forty; neither of us 
 heard of any sij^'iis hetweeii these two 
 sections, or Peace River way: and I, 
 wliile at Slave Lake i)reparin<>- for my 
 musk ox hunt, set iii({uii'y afoot for siyiis 
 of them in the nu)st northerly jiiece of 
 their ranye. without gettinp: enougli en- 
 couras'cment to warrant delayinj^ my 
 start for the Barren Grounds for another 
 attempt to hriny out a bison head of my 
 
 own killiii;r. S<» that wo two were tlie 
 lirst t{» ))ractically <'ovor. one way aial an 
 ollnr, their enti.c! ran>;o in one winter, 
 and yet we lieartl of only lifly-threol 
 
 To plan a hunt was one Ihini;-. hut to 
 ^'el started (piite another. ILilf a do/en 
 Indians told ns hy the hour how much 
 they knew of the liisoii country and 
 how nndouhted their prowess, hut whoso 
 knowh'dye, on close (piestioiiiny, we 
 found little more than our own. So 
 we spent two days separating fact from 
 liclion hefore (iiially docidiny C'alome 
 and Bushy to he the only two of the lot 
 wortli consiilei'injT. But Calonio wanted 
 a rille for himself and a satdv of Hour for 
 liis wife hel"ore he would oven discuss 
 \va<i"es, and ]iusliy was uncertain of the 
 section which we liad decided to hunt. 
 Meanwhile "Susie'" .sent word that ho 
 liad socuvod a yood hiiiifor, .leronii, who 
 know the country well, and was cer- 
 tain to lind hi.son. Wo (hcided on .ler- 
 emi for our jfiiide. and Smilli Landinj:', 
 sixteen miles .south of the post, as our 
 startinjf point. It was 15. .'50 on the after- 
 noon of Fehruary 1st when I\lcKinIoy. 
 Munii, and I yot underway for the Land- 
 iiifj, with two trains of dojis cari-yiny our 
 sleopinjj;' rohos, twenty pounds of Itacon, 
 fifty jiounds of Hour, three i)ounds of tea, 
 and six pounds of tohacco, to last live of us 
 for the oi^i'litdays wee.\])ected would com- 
 plete the hunt, and it was (!.,'{0 when we 
 liad ^.''ono the eijihteen miles that hroiijiht 
 ns to "Susie's'" <'al)iii. We limited our 
 own sup])lios to the last dej^reo, hecause 
 we know the yoinj^' would he heavy and 
 the lisli for the do<^s moi'o tliaii a load, and 
 we counted on the snares we had taken 
 to rojilenish our slock from the rahhits 
 that swai'in tlie woods. ]Iuiitin<;' in tliis 
 countr.v is a very diH'orent atl'air from 
 liuntiii<;' in any other. It is im))ossih]e to 
 take a supply of <>()()d jirovisions. or oven 
 a ji'ood supply of the jioor ])rovisioii the 
 land utt'ords. We were jiarticularly lu.\- 
 urioiis in havinji: hacon and Hour, for 
 usually dried fish and dried caribou meat 
 are all that may be had. It is out of the 
 question to be well fed or comfortable ; 
 lisli for the dogs must be carried, distances 
 are j:reat, travelling fatiguing', and hunt- 
 ing hard. Then there is the exireme dif- 
 ficulty of getting good hunters — the Ind- 
 ians are great braggarts but poor hunters 
 — and the annoyance of making terms 
 with them. They invariably' want every- 
 thing in sight wliile negotiating, and sub- 
 
9 
 
 5 
 
 S 
 
 
373 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 seiiiieiitly tliscover eitlier a stai'viii<;* wife, 
 whom you feed. or inoccasiiiless feet, wliicli 
 you covfir. lint " Susie " assured us in 
 C'i'ee. (Jliipewyan. Freiicli, and in tlie liin- 
 it<'(l Kuji'Iisli iit liis coiniuaud, of wliicli lie 
 is very proud, if uncertain, that we sliould 
 have no lroul)ie of any sort willi .leremi, 
 or .losepli. iiis aide de-ciiiiip. And so we 
 accepted Jerenii in conlidence, for "Susie" 
 is an important jx'rsoiiage among his peo- 
 ph', wlio trad(! with liim, and alwnys refer 
 to him as a lK),<r<je<)is, whicli, curiously 
 enough, in this country is a compliment- 
 ary title indicating superiority. 
 
 .I.'i'emi was one of the most unique 
 tatterdennilions I belield on my trip. 
 Munn and I instuntly dubl)ed him the 
 Ancient Wari-ioi-; not that his appear- 
 ance was forijidding, or that he ever re- 
 vealed any predilection for tlie war-piith. 
 except perhaps when Joseph helped him- 
 self too generously to the gren^e '_. the 
 frying pa M, but he lool<ed as though he 
 might have just conu; oti' a '"mai-ch 
 throuii'l; (leorgia," and there was a weari- 
 ness about ev(>rv motion that suggested 
 h)ng and arduous camijaigning. He 
 was tall and giiunt, with an appetite 
 for tea and grease 1 never saw equalled, 
 and a costume "vlnf;li batlled descrii)tion. 
 Two thicic i>;ck>"- of liair hung forward 
 of his ears and u<)wu to his chin, a turban 
 whose original cc'or h. J long since been 
 lost to view e: tircleJ his head, and 
 crowning all was a very small cap he had 
 got from some trader many years befoi'e, 
 aiul which sat rakishly on one side or the 
 other of his head, and consistently fell ott' 
 every time he departed from the perpen- 
 dicular. His preparations for sleeping al- 
 ways atfoi'ded me a great deal of quiet 
 amusement. He would squat Indian fash- 
 ion (and Indian fashion di tiers from tailor 
 fashion only in that the feet are crossed be- 
 hind and are sat on) before the fire, warm- 
 ing his hack andstonuichiilternately ; then 
 lie would heap up a pile of frozen ral)bitsfor 
 a pillow, roll up in his robe, and lie down 
 to snore. Very high pillows, l)y-the-way, 
 are common to all the.se Indians ; tliey 
 gather everything loose about camp and 
 stow it away under their heads, until they 
 are raised a couple of feet. It was always 
 a wonder to me how they slept at all, 
 though I found in the Barren (Irounds, 
 whei'e there is no brusli to soften your 
 bed. and you lie on rock cliieHy. ami al- 
 ways on your side, that a moderately high 
 pillow is dcsiriihlc. as it relieves the shoul- 
 
 der from bearing the entire weight of 
 your body. 
 
 It was rather late in the afternoon of 
 February 2d when we left the Landing 
 on a southwest course, which took us to 
 and up Salt River, and finally to a tree- 
 less twelve -mile stretch, on the edge of 
 which we made a wretched c;imp in the 
 increasing cold and with insufHcient fire- 
 wood. There " Susie," who had also de- 
 cided to make a try for bison, joined us 
 that night. This made us. all told, a coni- 
 })any of seven, which was not to Munn's 
 liking, and certainly not to mine, foi- of 
 all things I have ever shunned, none has 
 been avoided more studiously than a 
 large hunting party. However, there 
 was no way of mending matters. The 
 wind grew stronger, and the mercury fell 
 to 40° below, which not only froze the 
 noses, ears, and chins of all of us the ne.\t 
 morning crossing the open country, but, 
 what was more serious, put such a crust 
 on the snow that liunting an animal so 
 wary as the bison was next to impossible. 
 For two days we journeyed on toward 
 the section Jeremi " knew so well," going 
 through a fine game country of swamps 
 covered with coar.se grass, ami surrounded 
 by willows, sniiill patches of pine, spi-itce, 
 and poplar, and plenty of moose signs 
 everywhere, m fact, this part of the 
 country is one of the best game districts 
 in the North. On the morning of the 
 third day, being at the edge of the bison 
 country, Munn. "Susie," Jei-emi, and I 
 went on ahead looking for signs, "Mc" 
 preferi'ing to remnin with the outfit to 
 bring up trains, and pitch camp where we 
 might indicate, as we did seven miles far- 
 ther on. In a very cold wind we tram])e(l 
 for about twenty-five miles — stopi)ingonce 
 to build a fire, that the Ancient Warrior 
 might warm his feet, and again to eat a 
 frozen bi.scuit we had each fetclied — across 
 small lakes, over miirshes cut u]) by creeks, 
 and along thickly wooded ridges, but the 
 sight of not a solitary bison track reward- 
 ed our .search. 
 
 "Susie" and .leremi were l)oth much 
 di.sappoinfed. for they had conlidently 
 expected to find signs in this i)articular 
 section; so the next morning, our ])ro- 
 visions having run low, McKinley, " Su- 
 .'■ie." ami his Indian turned back for the 
 Landing, while ^Miniii and I set Jerenii 
 and .Joseph to making snai'cs. determined 
 to lay in supplies here before going deej)- 
 er into the bison countrv. Then, too. 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 373 
 
 
 Mss 
 
 ly 
 
 111' 
 
 I'O- 
 
 lie 
 ini 
 uhI 
 
 oo, 
 
 we knew two sous of Jerenii's would be 
 pussin<>' on tlieir way to ti cache of cli-iecl 
 moose meat. So we bettered our ciiinp to 
 protect us from the wind, and wliile oiii" 
 two Indians cau<>lit i'abl)its, Munii and 1 
 chopped lirewood, and smoked, and drank 
 tea. 
 
 Wliat truly astoundinj;- quantities of tea 
 and tobaccM) one consumes, and wliai a 
 craving for yiease one acquires in this 
 imconyenial clime! I found tlie stron<^ 
 black pluy traded to the Indians a desir- 
 able stimulant in tlie Barren (Jrounds, 
 where a i)ipe and a cup of tea constituted 
 one's bill of fare for sevei'al days at a 
 time, and tea lo be much more bracin<!^ 
 than cott'ee. Cott'ee is the alle<;-ed luxury 
 of the North-land, and only to be had at 
 an occasional otlicer's table; but grease, 
 in point of fact, is the real luxury. Only 
 eternal vigilance will save your cache, 
 and nothing less jiersuasive than a, shot- 
 gun rescue it from the liandsof its Indian 
 discoverer. We staid in this camp two 
 days, and in that time snared rabbits 
 enough to last us and the dogs a week, 
 and to Mil me with revulsion at the very 
 sight of one. 
 
 There is something peculiarly offensive 
 in rabbit after continuous diet. I have 
 lived at one time or another during my 
 liunting e.vperiences on one kind of game 
 for periods of varying length, but iiotliing 
 ever lilled me with such loathing as rab- 
 bit. Indeed, it is commonly said by the 
 Iiulians that they *" starve on rabbit," and 
 after my experience I can easily under- 
 stand it; you may eat until you are sur- 
 feited, but after a couple of hours' hard 
 travelling you fetd as empty as though 
 in the midst of a prolonged fast. There 
 is neither nourishment nor strength in the 
 meat, and yet the rabbit seems almost to 
 be manna for the otherwise God-forsaken 
 land. In countless numbers they skurry 
 overtheentirecountry.andai'e just the or- 
 dinary rabbit known everywhere, except 
 that here they change to white in the 
 winter, and on the lower Ban-en Grounds 
 double in size, and become arctic hares. 
 Every seventh year their numbers are de- 
 creased a good half by a mysterious and 
 deadly disease, anil then the Indians suf- 
 fer, for no one can say how many depend 
 on them for sul»sistence. If there is cari- 
 bou or moose meat or lish at the lodge. 
 it goes to the hunters, who nuist fae(> the 
 storms and withstand the hai-dsliips of 
 travel; but the "squaw men,"" the old 
 
 men, and certainly th(> women and chil 
 dren, more llian once during the year 
 owe their very lives to the rabbit. So. al- 
 though despised by me, he is revered in 
 this home of snow and iiunger. 
 
 We moved only lifteen miles the (irst 
 day we broke our ral)l)it camp, keei)ing a 
 shai'p lookout all the way. and passing 
 over a country lilled with curious bowl- 
 shajjcd depressions that ranged from t<'u 
 to lifty feet in depth and i)ro])orti()nately 
 wide, and at night the Ancient War- 
 rior"s sons turned up to gladden our 
 hearts and i-elieve our stomachs wiih 
 dried moose meat. Dried nu'at, by-the- 
 "way, caribou or moose, when at its best, is 
 about as thick as sole-leather, and of the 
 same consistency ; wIhmi it is pool- it some- 
 what resembles piii-chmeiit in thickness 
 and succulence. It is made l)y culling 
 the fresh meat into strips, which are hung 
 in the sun to dry, and subsequently over 
 the lii-e to smoke, and is the ordinary food 
 on these ex])editions, because dried it is 
 so nuich easier carried about. It is not 
 toothsome, but it is filling, and that is the 
 main desideratum in this country. Fresh 
 meat is the hunter"s luxury. 
 
 The coming of these two boys gave me 
 my first insight into the relations be- 
 tween Indian parents and children. They 
 arrived, one with a badly frozen cheek, 
 t!!'> other with frozen fingers, and both 
 sliivering with cold, yet Jeremi scarcely 
 turned his head in greeting, n)ade lu) sign 
 to give them room by his own warm place 
 at the fireside, nor showed paternal solici- 
 tude for their sufferings. They scraped 
 away a little snow at the edge of our 
 camp, and there rolled up in their blank- 
 ets, while their dogs and ours. l)y the light 
 of a glorious nu)on. mingled in an ani- 
 mated light that lasted a good part of tin; 
 night, and was waged vigoriuisly around 
 and over us. The dog is the one member 
 of the Indian family that is no respecter 
 of age or sex. But the boys pay the 
 ])enalty of youth, as their sisters and mo- 
 thers do of wonunthood. 
 
 We were now wh(>r«> the sight of bison 
 was an hourly expi'ctation ; we Inid come 
 over one hundred miles into their rang*' 
 without a glimpse of a track, new or old, 
 and Munn and 1 decided oui- (piarry to 
 be. as indeed he is. the rarest of the 
 I'are. W(> travelled all day along and up 
 and down ridges, where men and dogs 
 could scarcely drag the sledge for fallen 
 tind)er and sharp ascents, and whei'e the 
 
Tl?dtrk,^''e*'\L.'l) 
 
 .IKKKMl WAS TOO yllCK WITH HIS (lUN. 
 
 SHOW WHS (l(M'p. and bfcakiiiu' trail oxc(>s- 
 sivcly liaivl. especially willi trippiiiii'sliocs 
 oil wliicli you sunk to tlie kiioo, and with 
 tlic toe of wliicli you barked your shins 
 as you raised your foot, al'tor every step 
 to shake oil' the shovelful of accuiiiiilali'd 
 snow. Ill this fashion we worlu'd our 
 way for aliout twenty miles, and yet saw 
 no sii^iis, P)Ut w(> did liave a iiiie cainp 
 in the woods lliat niyht. willi a roaring;', 
 warniinu' lire, and such a glorious auroral 
 exliihilioii as I had never hefor<> helidd. 
 nor ever afterwards saw surpassed. Now 
 there were daiu'inii' wav<>s of eliaiii;inji' 
 red and violet expandin^i' and iiarrow- 
 iiiu' and whirlinu' across tli(> sl<y in 
 phaiiloiii dances ; then i^reat radiant 
 streaks of ^(dd<'ii i^reeiiish pierced the 
 
 li(>avens like iridescent searcli -lijilits of 
 incoinparalile jiower and brilliancy. It 
 was all so starlliiij:ly hrilliant and woii- 
 d«M'fulIy beautiful. And I lay on my 
 back, with the Indians on one side and 
 the (loos all around, and stared at the 
 iiiaLiniliceiit spectacle, and forji'ot the 
 rahhils, 
 
 'rh<> Indians have nodelinite idea touoli- 
 iiiii' the aurora: in their always apt no- 
 menclature they call it the "li<:lits that 
 move (piickly." and in general acc(>pt the 
 exhihition as iiK'rely the siyii of wind or 
 line weathei'. The Doo' Kilis say it is the 
 spirits of their ancestors lioldiny a dance; 
 anotluM' tribe varies this only by substi- 
 tr.liiiL;' I i lib t i 11 <i' for danciny: but there is 
 really no attempt at solution. These 
 
ON SNOW-SH( ES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 375 
 
 HiSfc^ 
 
 <1( 
 
 io'lits of 
 cy. It 
 d woii- 
 on uiy 
 (](' and 
 t tlie 
 
 Liot tlie 
 
 'il loiu'li- 
 apt. iio- 
 
 its lllilt 
 
 ccpt, the 
 
 wind oi" 
 
 it is ill e 
 
 11 dance: 
 
 sul)sti- 
 
 tlici-e is 
 
 These 
 
 Indians are too thoroughly occupied in 
 solving the problem of living. They do 
 claim, however, that the aurora is at 
 times a\idible, and some scientists bear 
 them out. Personally I can add little 
 certainty to the uncertain information 
 on the question. Twice on my trip, at 
 night, when there were auroral displays, 
 1 heard noises somewhat like the rustling 
 or crackling of a silken banner standing 
 out in the wind, but whether it was made 
 by settling or cracking snow and ice, or 
 by the aurora, I cannot affirm. There is 
 little opportunity to test the matter in 
 winter, for, what with storms and winds, 
 an absolutely still night is as rare as a 
 day in June. 
 
 The next, our ninth out from the Land- 
 ing, was tho memorabl ; day of the hunt. 
 It opened in hope — for we were in the 
 heart of the bison country — and closed 
 in despair, for in one shoi't hour we had 
 seen and chased and lost our game. 
 
 We broke camp at daylight, to reach 
 on this day the lake about which we ex- 
 pected to find bison, and the country we 
 I)enetrated had not before been hunted 
 by the Indians. It was broken into num- 
 berless little gullies and ridges, none of 
 which Jeremi missed in his wandering, 
 and the snow was so deep, and dead 
 timber and thickly grown small fir so 
 formidable, we made haste very slowly. 
 What with clearing a way for the sledge, 
 disentangling the dogs, and keeping on 
 our feet, we advanced but twelve miles 
 all daj'. We were in an unexplored 
 country, and the Ancient Warrior was 
 lost. He invariably carried us to the top 
 of the highest ridge that lay anywhere 
 within striking distance of our course, 
 and, once there, would send Joseph up a 
 tree to scan the horizon, while he .sank 
 on his knees in Avhat had the appear- 
 ance of a supplication for light on the 
 darkness of our way, but was in reality 
 liis habitual attitude when filling his 
 pipe. From one of these ridges we saw 
 Caribou Mountain near by, really not 
 more pretentious than a foot-hill, but 
 which in this Hat country bears tlie dis- 
 tinction of great altitude. 
 
 So we travelled on, wearied by the very 
 hard walking, and wondering if iiuleed 
 there were any bison in the land. At 
 one o'clock we crossed a lake, but not the 
 lake, where we saw fresh moose and cari- 
 bou tracks, which we could not of course 
 afford to follow, at the risk of scaring 
 
 Vol.. XCII.— No. 549.-39 
 
 the big game we were after, much as we 
 should have liked fresh meat. Just after 
 crossing tlie lake the Ancient Warrior 
 bore to the right of a sharp little ridge, 
 and Munn and I gave the dogs a spell of 
 a few moments, while we lighted oiu* 
 pipes, and joked about the old man hav- 
 ing overlooked the ridge, and concluded 
 he must have gone snow-blind. But even 
 as we talked he turned to the left and be- 
 gan slowly plodding up the ridge; where- 
 upon we agreed he was about to send 
 Joseph aloft again, and was seeking high 
 ground. Perhaps he, in fact, was — I 
 never asked him — but Munn and I had 
 hardly reached the foot of the ridge when 
 Jeremi came hurrying; back as excited as 
 a phlegmatic Indian ever gets, and we 
 suggested he had seen the "enemy," which 
 these superstitious creatures are ever en- 
 countering, to their utter demoralization. 
 
 But the Ancient Warrior had the joke 
 on us this time, for he fairly whisper- 
 ed, "Buffalo." Instantly Munn and I 
 were tingling. At last the game we had 
 tramped so far to get was at hand ; heart- 
 breaking trails, leaden snow-shoes, and 
 rabbits were forgotten as the hunter's 
 blood swept throMgh our veins at the 
 mention of bison. We four gatliered 
 closely in a little circle, and then in sub- 
 dued tones Jei'emi told Joseph, in Cl'.ipe- 
 wyan, and Joseph, a few words at a time, 
 translated to us in North-laud French, that 
 the ridge was literally covered with tracks, 
 that they were fairly fresh, that we would 
 leave the dogs where they were undercov- 
 er, and take up the bison trail at once. 
 
 I do not become stirred 
 Avhen we got on top of the ridge and the 
 tracks were before me, my heart quick- 
 ened, and there .seemed no obstacles I 
 could not surmount to reach my quarry. 
 There Avere the tracks, sure enough, like 
 those of cattle, quite fresh — probably yes- 
 terday's. We moved slowly along the 
 ridge, Joseph, Jeremi, Munn, and I, in 
 Indian tile, .scanning the willow-surround- 
 ed swamps on either side, each stepping 
 in the other's shoe-prints, but making 
 quite a bit of noise, nevertheless, for the 
 snow was hard, and the shoes crunched 
 and cracked it to an alarming effect on 
 the nerves of the stalking hunter. For- 
 tunately a strong wind blew in our 
 faces. In half a mile the tracks multi- 
 plied, and were very fresh — made that 
 day — so we took off our snow-shoes and 
 continued on as noiselessly as po.ssible. 
 
 easilv, but 
 
are 
 
 HARrER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 And now tlie ridgo, liitlierto tliickly 
 covered with ])oplar and pine, became a 
 bare backbone which stretched away for 
 about 125 yards between swamps, and 
 ended in a sliarp rise thicltly grown with 
 small spruce. 
 
 We had not advanced ten yards far- 
 ther when we discovered, simultaneous- 
 ly, I fancy, for we all crouched and drew 
 our rilles f^ut of their coats together, a 
 shaggy head abcut 115 yards in front of 
 us. A second and careful look told 
 me it was a bison cow about two years 
 old, with forehead sprinkled with either 
 gray or white hair < n a background of 
 light brown. She was standing under 
 the spruce, and just over the rise of the 
 ridge, so I could see only her forehead, 
 eyes, and horns, which were about six 
 inches long, and straight out from her 
 head, with slight curve at tips; I could 
 not see her muzzle. The wind was in 
 our favor, and she had not scented us, 
 though from her vantage on the knoll 
 she had lioard and evidently seen us 
 beiore we si-^bred her. 
 
 Munn and I had not before hunted 
 bison, but our hunting experience was 
 sufficient to make action under such 
 conditions intuitive. We knew for sure 
 there was a herd over the ridge. We 
 wanted a bull, and had no idea of firing 
 on a heifer. We expected, of course, Jer- 
 emi would work around to the side and 
 under the ridge, and up to where we 
 could view and get a shot at the herd ; or 
 retreat and camp several miles away, 
 to make another approach next morn- 
 ing. The lisifer might scamper back to 
 the cow, but she could not put tlie herd 
 to flight, and meanwhile we should make 
 oiir way alon;;- the ridge, perfectly certain 
 the hex'd would not run until they scented 
 or saw us, or we made undue disturbance. 
 It was a .splendid chance for a skilful 
 stalk, just the situation a hunter loves 
 most dearly. I did not consider the pos- 
 sibility of the Indians' shooting, for they 
 had agreed at the Landing not to Are un- 
 til Munn and I had done so, and "Su- 
 sie "' said they Avould keep their word, 
 and I trusted them. I know more of 
 these Indians now tlian I did then. 
 
 All this of course ran through my 
 head in the few seconds I was taking my 
 look at the heifer, and Jeremi's stealing 
 oif to the right and a little ahead rather 
 corroborated my mentitl survey of the 
 situation. Suddenly, however, up went 
 
 the guns of Jeremi and Joseph. There 
 was no time for remonstrance, and Munn 
 and I, in sheer desperation that luck 
 might direct the bullets, threw up our 
 guns also; those of the Indians exploded 
 before we had ours fairly at shoulder, but 
 we pulled trigger, chiefly because of that 
 instinct which makes one's muscles at 
 times work in sympathy with one's wishes. 
 
 I was so stunned by the sudden turn of 
 affairs, so exasperated at the Indians, that 
 I was sorely tempted to empty the maga- 
 zine of my rifle into them. I knew I could 
 not possibly have scored; I felt sure Munn 
 hf ^ not, but hoped against hope that he 
 n. 1' l)t have got his gun up for a sight. 
 I did not think the Indians had, for they 
 can hardly hit a barn door a hundred 
 yards oH'. If I thought at all of their 
 scoring, it was that we might have meat, 
 which we needed but even that, I am 
 sure, I did not coh,sider. 
 
 The one miserable thought that we had 
 lost what had been a good chance of get- 
 ting a bison head was u\)\ ermost, for this 
 herd would run for days, and entirely 
 beyond our reach. Simultaneously with 
 the shooting the heifer disappeared, and 
 we ran to the top of the knoll in hopes of 
 a shot at the flying herd, but not a hoof 
 was in sight, so rapid had been their 
 flight, although the ridge opened to view 
 five hundred yards away. 
 
 We discovered a few small drops of 
 blood whei'e the heifer had stood, counted 
 the beds of eleven cows, and noted the 
 snow beaten down into paths leading tow- 
 ard the end of ridge and muskeg to the 
 right; and then began a mad race along 
 the faint trail of blood, in hopes that the 
 heifer might have been more badly wound- 
 ed than the blood showed, and turned aside 
 (as is their custom when hard hit) from 
 the fleeing herd. But we had only a hard 
 run in the deep snow as recompense. 
 
 And then we returned to our sledge and 
 sat down in silence, and with the bitter 
 realization that the bison-hunt was at an 
 end. We did not say much, Munn and I; 
 words could not do our feelings justice. 
 There is hunters' luck, a,nd the sportsman 
 who has sought big game, and experienced 
 its operations for and against him, can 
 sound the depths of our disappointment. 
 To have got near bison at all was re- 
 markable, but to have succeeded after a 
 long hard hunt in getting so neai\ and 
 actually seeing them, only to have our 
 chance for a kill spoiled by the stupidity 
 
A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 
 
 377 
 
 or viciousness of our Indians was too keen 
 a grief to be sootlied by mutual condo- 
 lence or by cursing Jeremi. 
 
 We went on another day, and saw 
 more tracks of the same herd, but none 
 others, and then we turned our faces 
 Fort- Smith wards. For three days we 
 travelled by the compass, for we were lost, 
 cutting our way througli forests of small 
 fir, grown so closely as to render progress 
 almost impossible to a man, much less for 
 a train of worn-out dogs. The going was 
 very hard, and hunger, our provisions be- 
 
 ing gone, less easy to bear now following 
 upon our disappointment. On the fourth 
 day we came out on our trail and that 
 night Munn and I reached McKinley's 
 cabin, after covering forty-eight miles 
 between 7 A.M. and 8 P.M. Before we 
 slept we poured our tale of woe into 
 " Mac's " sj'mpathetic ears, and then we 
 all decided the only chances of success in 
 a bison-hunt to be — time enough to cover 
 their entire range from north to south, 
 and once on their tracks, binding the 
 Indians hand and foot. 
 
 A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 
 
 BY IIJALMAR IIJORTH BOYESEX. 
 
 can 
 
 [lent. 
 
 re- 
 
 f^er a 
 
 and 
 
 our 
 
 Iditv 
 
 V !• 
 
 " 4 N6THER child," murmured Judah 
 J\ Memliiiger, "another sorrow." 
 
 " Shame on tliee, Judah!'' said Rachel, 
 his wife, pres.sing the new-bor'i babe to 
 her breast. " Blessed be the name of the 
 Lord !" 
 
 "Blessed be tlVe name of the Lord!" 
 her husband repeated, humbly, and 'with 
 bowed head, as he stared with mournful 
 eyes at the tiny intruder. 
 
 "The child is not Avell favornl, I think," 
 he remarked, at the end oi a long pause. 
 
 "It is a male cliiid. The Lord has 
 done well by him," said Rs^chel, severely. 
 
 Baruch, the elder son, four years old, 
 had stolen into the huslied sick-room ii. 
 his father's wake, and stood near the door, 
 biting his thumb with suppres.sed agita- 
 tion. 
 
 "Come, Baruch, and see thy new bro- 
 ther," said his motlier. 
 
 Baruvih, with an acute sense of his un- 
 worthiness, sidled up to the bed. There 
 lay a puny little yellow thing with blkck 
 curly hair, and one small Avrinkled fist 
 clinched under an embryonic nose. Bk- 
 ruch stood long staring at him in silent 
 wonder. Then, in a spix'it of enterprise, 
 he raised his hand and tentatively touched 
 his cheek. 
 
 " Baruch," said the mother, warn ingly, 
 " beware that thou dost not hurt thy new 
 brother!" 
 
 Baruch withdrew his finger as if it had 
 been burnt. 
 
 Judah Memlinger was by trade a fur- 
 rier, and worked for a Jewish ma.sier who 
 had the finest store in Odessa. He was 
 neither a handsome nor a clever man; 
 at least Gentile eyes would not have pro- 
 
 nounced him either. He wore the two 
 long side curls of the orthod'^-: Jew, and 
 Ills black forked beard ■• as rusty and 
 weather-bleached at the ends. There was 
 in his eyes something shy and alert, as of 
 a hunted thing, and i\ peculiarly anxious 
 and uneasy look was habitual to his fea- 
 tures. Of stature he was small, crooked, 
 and round-shouldered, and the wide-skirt- 
 ed black caftan .slouched about his thin 
 legs. The waxen pallor of his face told 
 of late hours and sedentary labor in the 
 close, over-heated workshop. 
 
 Everybody wondered why Nathan 
 Rosenhain, a phj'sician and a scholar, 
 gave his daughter in marriage to so hum- 
 ble a man as Judah. It was, indeed, 
 whispered that he did it as a puni.shment 
 for permitting her heart to stray beyond 
 the Ghetto. Afterward, it was said, Na- 
 than had relented somewhat, and had al- 
 lowed her to move her piano to her new 
 home. For that piano was the apple of 
 her eye. It had come all the way from 
 Paris, and it had a most lovely tone, and 
 was beautifully inlaid with ivory and 
 mother-of-pearl. The neighbors often 
 paused under Rachel's windows and stood 
 listening to her wonderful playiiig. Some- 
 times she poured torth a tempest of sound, 
 with strange wailing, sigliing, lamenting 
 chords interspersed ; and sometimes she 
 lost herself in melodious mr.sings, full of 
 sorrowful resignation. Then, at the end 
 of a yenr, a child arrived, and a change 
 came over the spirit of Rachel's playing. 
 A new tenderness awoke in her and drove 
 away the Herce rebellion. 
 
 Four years after tlie birth of Baruch 
 another son was born to Rachel, and she 
 rejoiced again andvthanked the Lord. She 
 
378 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 called liim David (thougli none of her 
 kindred bore this name), after the great 
 king of Israel, the music of wliose harp 
 has resounded througli the ages in the 
 hearts of numberless generations. 
 
 During the years while her children 
 were suuill, Rachel devoted herself with 
 unremitting zeal to their education. In 
 a way she held herself responsible for 
 their poverty and lowly station. It did 
 not occur to her that if she had married 
 another man, these children, Baruch and 
 David, would never have come into the 
 world. It was her fault, she thought, that 
 they were boi'n to contumely and depri- 
 vation, and she would, as far as it was 
 in her power, atone to them for it. They 
 were not to be journeymen mechanics, 
 like their father. They were to be artists 
 or lawyers or physicians, such as she 
 had seen among the Jews :n Moscow. 
 They were to break the bondage of the 
 close and lilthy Ghetto and go out into 
 the world, and become an honor to their 
 people. It was with this in view that 
 she dragged them in from their play and 
 taught them to read French and German. 
 She sat up late at night in order to re- 
 fresh her own knowledge, so that she 
 miglit impart it to them; nay, she began 
 to study Latin by herself, in order that 
 she might help to fit them for the univer- 
 sity. It was of no use that her husband, 
 being unable to sympathize with her am- 
 bition, tried to throw obstacles in her way, 
 and even threatened to complain of her 
 to the Rabbi. Obedient to her wishes as 
 he was in most things, in this he remained 
 sulkily obstinate. 
 
 If she had used his money for purchas- 
 ing the dangerous books he could have 
 pleaded his poverty, and jjerhaps persuad- 
 ed her to de.sist. But she- had obtained 
 several pupils in music of late, and earned 
 enough to be independent of him. Tall 
 of stature, with a certain queenly un- 
 consciousness of her own loveliness, she 
 went her way, intent upon her task, and 
 let the turbulent currents of life roll 
 by her unheeded. Her bearing was sim- 
 plicity itself, suggesting neither pride nor 
 humility, but a beautiful self-respect and 
 womanly dignity. To be a mother in 
 Israel has from of old been a title to lion- 
 or; and Rachel, in the midst of her i)ov- 
 erty, felt an invisible crown of maternity 
 upon her brow. 
 
 For eigliteen years Rachel lived in 
 l)eaceful obscurity, devoting herself to the 
 
 It was of no 
 the rector of 
 nim to relax 
 Equally una- 
 to the other 
 
 education of her sons. Her husband 
 never directly censured her or expressed 
 his disapproval of lier teachings; but he 
 summoned to his aid the Rabbi, who was 
 less considerate, and denounced with all 
 the maledictions of the Prophets those 
 who, deluded bj' vain ambition, strayed 
 beyond the fold of Israel. 
 
 It was a terrible disappointment to 
 Rachel when lier sons, one after the 
 other, Avere refu.sed admis.sion to the 
 gymnasium which was to fit them for 
 the university. There was a rule, which 
 was enforced or not, according to oflicial 
 caprice, limiting the number of Jewish 
 pupils which might be accepted, and it 
 pleased the authorities in this case to in- 
 clude David and Baruch among those 
 \v]>o had to be debarred, 
 use that she called upon 
 the school and implored 
 the rule in their favor, 
 vailing were her appeals 
 officials, all of whom advised her to ap- 
 prentice her sons to their father's trade, 
 and not foolishly to aspire beyond her 
 station. The Rabbi, too, enforced this ad- 
 vice with awful biblical quotations, and 
 one day Judah actually summoned cour- 
 age to carry off the elder boy with him 
 to the shop. She had long foreseen that 
 this world have to come, and though it 
 grieved her deeply, .she did not dare in- 
 terfere. The long-skirted Jewish caftan 
 was to her the badge of the servitude of 
 her race, and it cut her to the quick to 
 see Baruch arrayed in it like his father, 
 wearing the odious side curls, and uncon- 
 sciously acquiring the stoop and the walk 
 of the Ghetto. But if she could not save 
 Baruch from the misery of ignorance, toil, 
 and dreary resignation which fell to the 
 lot of the Jewish mechanic in Russia, slie 
 would concentrate all her energy and all 
 her hopes upon David. She read until 
 her eyes ached and her head swam, but 
 she could not disguise to herself the fact 
 that she made but slight progress. With 
 Baruch she had made some little head- 
 way, but with David her success was 
 far from encouraging. He wept over 
 Citsar and sulked over Nepos, and when 
 it came to Cicero and Sal lust, she was 
 herself completely at sea, and could otter 
 him no assistance. Only in arithmetic 
 Avas he more than her match. ^He could 
 make a calculation in his head with ex- 
 traordinary rapidity, and he cotild ruu 
 up a column of figures with a sort of in- 
 
-'■I / J 
 
 HARPER'S XEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE 
 
 Vol.. xcir 
 
 MAJ{( II, I89« 
 
 No. 1>L 
 
 
 THB I^ARREN (gR^UNaS. 
 
 ^A&PAR W. WhiTNEV. 
 
 IV— TO THK TIMUKKS KIM.K. 
 
 BEFORE wo left tlie Landing- for our 
 bison-hunt, Munn and I had decided 
 to make another attempt under Bushys 
 giiidf nee in case we failed under Jeremi's. 
 But by the time we were back at Foi't 
 Smith fifteen days had been consumed in- 
 stead of the ])romised six. and my " ex- 
 ])ress"had returned from Fort Resolu- 
 tion. The letter he brought me was not 
 exactly clieering after our depressing- 
 hunt. Gaudet wrote that '" the Indians 
 fear entering- the Barrens at this [w-nter] 
 season of the \'eai — that they take their 
 lives in hand at all .seasons, but especial- 
 ly now. with the danger of freezing add- 
 ed to that of starving ; that he doubted 
 gaining their con.sent to accoinjiany me; 
 .... however, he had sent Beniah word 
 to come to the post at once," 
 
 As I was already overdue at Resolu- 
 tion, a second bison-hunt, which I should 
 have liked, was out of tlie question. 
 
 Fort Smith is the most inadequately 
 provided post in the country, and has 
 the smallest natural supply, for there 
 are few fish in the river, and. as a 
 rule, the Indians i)refer "•starving"" on 
 
 Copyrighl, H9'!. by Harper in I Hr.)lll,!r«. All riiflin r-i-ri-»l. 
 
 rabbits tin; women snare to going- back 
 into the country a hundred miles or so. 
 where moo.se and woodland cai'ibou are 
 fairly i)lentiful. Only " Mc"s " success in 
 getting a moos<! kept us all from half- 
 rations after the bison-hunt, and when I 
 ))assed through on my way bnck to civ- 
 ilization I fouml his children ci-yiiig of 
 hunger. Munn's hard luck, too, will 
 convey some idea of the uncertainty of 
 result and extent of endeavor inciden- 
 tal to hunting. Onc^ year he spent 
 there, nuiking two trips to the liarrens 
 for muslc-ox. two after bison, and his skill 
 and experi'-nce and untold hardships 
 were rewarded by but a single musk- 
 cow. Pike gave two yeai's of his life to 
 the country, made three ti'ips to the Bar- 
 rens before he secured the musk-oxen he 
 desired, ami had one unsuccessful bi.son- 
 hunt. 
 
 Twc- days aftei- our return to Fort 
 Smith I started for Great Slave Lake. 
 Tiu' ilistaiK'c from Fort Smith to Reso- 
 lution is ]fl4 miles down the (ireat Slav 
 River, but i)ortiig-es reduce the ))ossibli 
 route to Ifi.") to 170 miie.>. which. a>. mv 
 
491 
 
 HAKM'KirS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ankle had nearly mended, and my half- 
 breed j,^uidesandd()}rs wereirood iravelhM's. 
 I expected to do in four days. Hut the con 
 tingencies of snow-shoe travel are many. 
 We had lianlly <;••*•' under way hefore surh 
 cramps seized the calves of my leys that 
 I could scarcely mov(!. I sui)p(.sed it 
 merely muscular still'ness caused hy my 
 two days' inaction at hmith after the hard 
 day's run which terminated the hison- 
 liunt, and that it would wear otF. so I set 
 j;rimly to work to catch the duji'-train, 
 which was jjfoinj;- alony' nt a lively rate 
 and disappearinji' down tin; river. 
 
 No effort of mine, however, could 
 (puckeii my <iait heyoiid asliutHin;^- pain- 
 ful hohhie, aiul I did not overtake the 
 outfit until a stop was made for dinner, 
 fifteen miles further on. I thoujiht a 
 rest and a little ruhbiny would rtdieve 
 me, hut when we started or. ayain tlu! 
 cramps spread to both thijihs, and I sim- 
 ply could not move. Bui for the ))ain I 
 mi<,fht have thou<iht my lej^s i)aralyzed. 
 I (•ijfnalled Mercrede, my yuiile, and when 
 i had draj^ged myself up to the dogs I 
 climbed on to the sledge, and told him to 
 go ahead, thinking tlu^ sjjasm would pass 
 off, and nu'anwhile we .should not lost; 
 time by stopping. Tlierc^ was short I'es- 
 pite in this direction, however, for the 
 dogs could m)t haul me in the heavy go- 
 ing without " forcing," and as they must 
 l)e .saved at all hazards, I determined on 
 another effort at walking, and failing, to 
 camp and doctor my muscles. This I 
 made Mercrede understand after much 
 difliculty, and then he went on and I tried 
 to follow. I was in no better condition 
 for travelling than before; a few steps 
 and then a tumble, followed by a spell of 
 crawling; another attempt at walking, 
 another tum])le, until tinally I directed 
 my entire energy to crawling on hands 
 aiul knees, and thus I reached thecamj) 
 ^lercrede had made .several miles below. 
 
 Vigorous and continuous application 
 of mustang liniment put me in shape for 
 travel the iH!.\t morning. Exceedingly 
 l)a,inful travel, but tra.vel none the less, 
 which was, after all, the main considera- 
 tion. Walking was bear;ible, but running 
 set every leg luu've and muscle vibra- 
 ting, and I tried all ])ossil)le ways of mak- 
 ing those half-breeds know I wished them 
 to walk. But they didn't or wouldn't 
 understand, and there was nothing left 
 for me but to grit my teeth and stay with 
 tliein — which I did. 
 
 It was afterwards explained to me at 
 IJesoliition why they had maintained such 
 a pace despite my evident suffering'. It 
 .seems I h;id made in the country some 
 renown as a runner — a case of honor be 
 ing thrust upon nu) for I cannot se(^ that 
 I merited it, unless the Indians deemed 
 j)er.severanc(! worthy of such recognition. 
 However, I gained the reputation lu'ver 
 theless, and it travelled ahead of me from 
 ])ost to post. Now as the Indians and half- 
 breeds are exccMnlingly jealous of their own 
 rej)utation as runners, and probably did 
 not fancy a white Juan even unwilling- 
 ly sharing it, tln^ result was that every 
 pair of guides I secui-ed set out to thor 
 ouglily lest my (|ualilications for the name 
 which had been given me. As T got fresh 
 guides and dogs at each Iliulso'.i Bay ])ost 
 on my joui'iu'y,it nujy be understood I was 
 kept busy. Mercrede and his companion 
 were the first two that had found me h())\s 
 de combat, so to say. and they proceeded 
 to have a good time with me. Well, they 
 had it. At first I would bring to my aid 
 all the signs and Indian words, Cree and 
 Chi])ewyan, I knew, in a serious and labo- 
 rious effort to make them understand how 
 painful it was lor me to run. And they 
 would look wise and solemn and nod as- 
 sent, and then start out and go as hard as 
 ever. 
 
 After one or two of these attempts at 
 fruitless persuasion I developed a large 
 and righteous anger, which was somewhat 
 relieved by a cursing that exhausted a vo- 
 cabulary of wideand highly colored range, 
 and which the Indians did not understand 
 — niore's the l)ity, for I am sure the brill- 
 iant and contrasting effects would have 
 appealed to their picturesque nature — and 
 thereafter they had not the satisfaction of 
 hearing a whimper, nor of running away 
 from me. 
 
 Later one of them came near ending 
 my misery once and for all time by fell- 
 ing a tree, which crashed into the snow 
 not six inches fi-om where I was stooping- 
 tying my nuK'casin. 
 
 On the (uorning of the fourth day we 
 <!ame to the cabin of Carr and Duncan, 
 the only two white tiappers in the coun- 
 try. It was a joy to hear English again, 
 and a comfoi-t to get indoors before a fire : 
 and wli(ui I left they liad bi-aced me up 
 mentally ami ))hysically by theii- hearty 
 welcome ami the hea))ing })lates of lynx 
 meat they set in front of nu'. and which 
 is very tender and savory, and tastes 
 
me at 
 
 lied such 
 •iiig. It 
 ,ry sonic 
 louor be- 
 
 , S(U> tllilt 
 
 di'ctJU'd 
 )^''iiilion. 
 II never 
 ine from 
 mid half- 
 Ikmi'owu 
 lably did 
 uwilling'- 
 at every 
 
 to tlior 
 Uie name 
 o-ot fresh 
 Bay i)osl 
 ood I was 
 )mi)anion 
 
 1 me hoi'K 
 )roceeded 
 ^^ell, they 
 Lo my aid 
 Cree and 
 and Uibo- 
 ;tand how 
 And they 
 u nod as- 
 is liard as 
 
 tempts at 
 
 1 a large 
 
 )nie\vliat 
 
 sted a vo- 
 
 ed range. 
 
 derstand 
 
 the brill- 
 
 iild liave 
 
 are — and 
 
 action of 
 
 ing away 
 
 ir ending 
 e by fell- 
 tlie snow 
 stooping' 
 
 1 day we 
 Duncan, 
 the coun- 
 ish again, 
 oi'e afire: 
 ed me up 
 'ir hearty 
 s of lynx 
 nd which 
 ud tastes 
 
 iimnitiHHHitif. 
 
 a little like veal. It was just as 
 well that I (lid eat pleiiteousiy 
 here, for one of my stupid Indians, 
 when repacking the sledge, left 
 out our small sack of ])rovisioiis. ! 
 
 and that night, and for the remain- ' 
 
 der of the trip, we shared .some 
 wretched dried fisli with the dogs. 
 
 Tlie last half of the .iourney was ex- 
 ceedingly trying, becau.st; the storms vio- 
 lently disputed our progress, and the dogs 
 were fagged by the ch'ptli of snowfall. It 
 was on one of these last hard days that, 
 as I opened my note-book in the morn- 
 ing to write of the d;iy before, I was re- 
 minded of a, little dinner given me just 
 on the eve of my departure from New 
 York, at which live of my nearest friends 
 had ,sat, and pledged my health and suc- 
 cess, and promi.sed to drink to it again on 
 Washington's birthday. And as I wrote 
 February l:i'id iu my journal that morn- 
 ing, that delightfnl (ivening seemed so 
 long ago: but with the storm howling 
 about me I dralik their healths in strong 
 est tea, and felt sure they too had drunk 
 mine. 
 
 It was one o'clock of the tifth day when 
 we came to the end of the (about) twenty- 
 mile portage which connects Great Slave 
 River vrith Great Slave Lake, and carries 
 the voycKjeio' over the last stage of his 
 journey from Fort Smith to ResolutiiJii. 
 Tlie wind had subsided and the atmos- 
 phere cleared of Hying snow as we toiled 
 through the heavy going to liie timber's 
 edge, flanked on either side by clo.sely 
 growing and winter-bemaiitled i)ine; and 
 when we finally reached the open, and 
 the great frozen lake lay before us. the 
 dogs were stopped for a spell, while the 
 Indians got out their best mittens, relaced 
 their moccasins, and lighted ))ipes. 
 
 These preparations were always an in- 
 
 fallible ami, for most of the time, 
 the only sign on the journey from 
 r^a IJiclie to Kesolution by wliicii 
 I knew we were approaching our 
 destination. On the two occasions 
 when s|)eech with my guides w:is 
 vfissible, the only inrornialion I 
 ( .)uld elicit in reply to my iiitpiiries 
 concerning distance was that it was eillier 
 a little or a big ""iiiece " off. .\s a "" lit- 
 tle piece ' meant anywhere from live 
 miles tf> .1 day or a day and a liaU's travel, 
 and a " l)ig i)iece "' from a day and a half 
 to tlire»! or four or even more da.vs. I was 
 never able, until I. l(;ariied to interpret 
 the signs of changing ('ostume. to form 
 any idea of our relative location. When 
 arriving at or departing from a post tin- 
 Indians invariably elotlie themselves in 
 their most highly ornamented moccasins, 
 mittens, and leggings, and wliiji the dogs 
 into their fastest jiace. J'Jii route, how- 
 ever, these gay trajipings are exchanged 
 for mor»; sombre ones. (Jii tlit^ morning 
 of the trip's last day the decorated leg- 
 gings are again put on, l)Ut the best moc- 
 casins are not brought fcnlli unle.^s the 
 post is to Ije reached before noon, and the 
 mittens not before the journey is within 
 a few hours of its end, sometimes not 
 until the last pipe- — which is lilled and 
 lighted during a day's running altout 
 once every hour and a half — as was the 
 case when we halted for our lirst look at 
 Great Slave Lake, whose glistening sur- 
 face stretched away to the w<?st far l)e- 
 yond the r;inge of sight. 
 
 It is always customai'V. too, to stop for 
 a l)ipe wiien tlie.v coiim- within sight of 
 the journey's end — no matter if it is only 
 a couple of miles away and everybody 
 and the dogs are' faint with hunger and 
 worn with fatigue. They ;ne true to the 
 philosoidiy that deems anticipation better 
 
496 
 
 IIARI'KKS XKW MONTIIIA' MAGAZINE. 
 
 MAP SHdWlNO MR WHITXEV S ROUTE 
 
 than vcalizutioii. Aiul so uc stood and \vl 
 
 and a quailt-r later, 
 (iaiulet welconu'd 
 iiic uitli cliaractcr 
 istic iS'ortli - hnid 
 lieartinesH.niid tlicro 
 was a coiniviolion 
 aiiioii;^ tlic natives; 
 forlliot'oMiinyot'tlit' 
 '"wliitc liKUtcf" had 
 I)('(Mi licraldcd, and 
 tlioy wiM'o curious to 
 see what /naiUH-r of 
 man was this who 
 liad penetrated the 
 stiipendoiisNorth at 
 its most I'orhiddiny 
 season. But I was 
 too iiappy in tlie ae- 
 coniplislmientof my 
 trip to recite details. 
 andtooworji to give 
 heed to llie whisper- 
 in<rsand jostliny.s of 
 tlio men, women, 
 and cliildi-en that 
 gathered about and 
 followed me to the 
 door of Ciaudet'.s 
 cabin. 
 
 The boiling- of tlie 
 teakettle always fol- 
 lows swiftly upon 
 the arrival of a v<> 
 yatjeur in this deso- 
 late but hospital)le 
 land, and it was not 
 many minutes be- 
 fore Gaudet's sistei-. 
 who i)roved a min- 
 istering: angel dur- 
 ing my stay at Reso- 
 lution, had poui-ed 
 a cup of tea and 
 ])laced before me 
 some caribou ribs, 
 the lirst fresh meat I 
 bad seen since leav- 
 ing La Biche. No 
 lere in my experience have I witnessed 
 
 looked at Ke.solution and its little line of more disinterested hosj)ilality tlian in this 
 
 cabins straggling along the lake's north- gi'eat lone land. From north to south — 
 
 ern shoi-e. six miles away. while ]\ler(M'ede fi'om llud.son liay C()ni))any officer to the 
 
 elai)orately beaded poorest Indian hunter, among the half- 
 
 ned with thankful- l)ree(ls at the ])ost or the Indians in the 
 
 arrav( 
 
 •d 1 
 
 innse 
 
 in 
 wan 
 
 that the linal 
 
 tl 
 
 wooils, m llie Jog cal)ins oi' in tlie can 
 
 th 
 
 bou- 
 
 nioccasins. ami 
 iiess too deep for words 
 
 stage of myflDO miles was com})leted. ami skin tepees — the entrance of aguest is iii- 
 
 the out lilting post for the Barren Grounds variably the signal for stirring up the fire 
 
 in view at last. and putting on the teakettle: or. if there 
 
 When we arrived at the fort, an hour is no tea, which is more frequently the 
 
ON SNOW SHOES TO TIIK HAHKHN (JHoLNhS. 
 
 4nr 
 
 Iter luU;r, 
 \v til coined 
 
 I'liai'lK'tCM*- 
 
 >i-tli - liCid 
 ,;iiid llicic 
 >iiM>i(>tioii 
 
 I' llJtiivcs; 
 liiiyoftlic 
 ntcr" had 
 lilcd, and 
 
 (•Ul■i()U^ Id 
 
 iiaiiiH'r of 
 tliis wIm) 
 rated tin- 
 sNoilliat 
 iii'hiddiiiy 
 Jut 1 was 
 in the ac- 
 lentof niy 
 Ic details. 
 rn toyive 
 ' wliisper- 
 i.stlin<>'.s of 
 women, 
 ron that 
 ibout and 
 ne to the 
 Gaiulet's 
 
 ing- of till- 
 hvays fol- 
 tly upon 
 1 of a ro 
 this deso- 
 lospitabU- 
 it was not 
 iiutes be- 
 L't's sister, 
 h1 a niin- 
 ngel dnr- 
 y at Keso- 
 d poui-ed 
 tea and 
 'fore me 
 bou i'il)s. 
 ;sh meat I 
 ince leav- 
 'he. No 
 witnessed 
 an in tliis 
 n south — 
 cer to tin- 
 tlie liaif- 
 ns in tlie 
 s earibou- 
 uest is in- 
 ip the fire 
 r. if tliere 
 lentlv the 
 
 oa»e with llie Indians, of putliu'/a piect If itne is iu«Nperien<'et' in rougliinir 
 
 of pical on to boil ; ur. if there i> none, of life, n' laeks deriMun, and. let us say. 
 
 i»tl"erin(f dried meat or lisli.oi'lhe liest of heart lessnes.s to nay " no." Ibis eounlry is 
 
 what;'ver thei'e may l)e. im place t'or him. for more per>islent and 
 
 T'.ie successful hunter pays anipli! trib- skilled bej^yars are probalily not tu b«i 
 
 Mte t«) his skill. While ihc! meat lasts fouml anywhere. I was annoyed a yreat 
 
 .'lis lodge is never cleared of the less for deal at lirst fm the I'caxin that I'ike had 
 
 "SPELI.INIi" TIIK I)()(iS. 
 
 tunate. and the squaw is never done cook- 
 ing, and feeding the half -starved that 
 S(iuat about the lire in ever-cluinging but 
 never-diminisliing circles. I marvelled 
 at this lavish hospitality while living 
 with the Indians, for it was never at any 
 lime a giving out of plenty, and always 
 meant subse(iuent want for the entertain- 
 ers. I iiave seen every bit of meat put 
 into the kettle and handed around, until 
 the last scrap was eaten, and the host and 
 myself go hungry for two days after- 
 wards. When we were making our way 
 towards the Bari-en (tI'ouikIs I saw an 
 Indian of our party, who 1 knew had not 
 eaten meat for two days, bring forth a 
 bone saved from the dog feed, handle 
 ■Jt almost fondly before the fire, and then 
 divide it among one or two of his fellows. 
 
 been impi'ovident of his provisions, and I 
 suppox! it spread abroad in the land tliat 
 white men were easy to "' work." S<) 
 when I canu! along they had new les.sons 
 to learn Ijefore we " understood one an- 
 other." Personally I acknowledge 1 pi'e- 
 fei- the Indians to the half - l)reeds. Of 
 coui'se I met splendid exceptions. notai)ly 
 Gaudet and Spencei'. Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany oilicers, and three of the company 
 servants— Michael Manderville, the inter- 
 preter at Resolution, and Francois and 
 William I'ini, at Chipewyan, of wli(»m I 
 have already spoken; i)Ut. as a I'ule, the 
 half-breeds are less toleral)le than the 
 Indians. And that is saving a great 
 deal. It is a (luestion of two evils. One 
 would repent of either choice. Both in 
 general are untrustworthy. avaricious,and 
 
If 
 
 4l»H 
 
 IIAKI'KK'rt NEW MoNTrrr.V MACSAZrXK. 
 
 iniclninly, l)nt tlio Imlf-brcod is in'an-r 
 flic white iiKiii ill tln) vifionsncss of liis 
 liy|)o<Tisy. Tlif wliilc Mood in liis vriiis 
 ••nines from lo\v<'sl str.iiiis, junl liiis jrivt'ii 
 liiin tlin (Mjiiiiinjf of a lii>fii«'r iiiti'llijrciii'c 
 Avitlioiit impiii-liiiy till' Im'IIci' ntdilHilcs of 
 llif more <'ivili/,<'»l |»rolol.v|M'. Il is iiiiK'li 
 <'nsi«>i' for il civili/.i'd iiiaii to hocoiiu! sav 
 .•ijj'«* than for a s;tvaji<' to hrconn' civili/.t'd. 
 
 IIow I slept that lirst iiiu'lit of my ar 
 rival at Hesoliitioii ! Tlie eomfoit of a 
 full stomach, the satisfaction of lieinji- at 
 the scene of l)attle, so to s|ieai<. were 
 soothing hoyoiid exi)rcssion. At any 
 time, no matter how lon^r hence, I am 
 sure if (»ver I sit l)acl< in my chair and 
 reih'ct upon tlie ])eriod of utmost com 
 plarency in my i>ast life, my two weoUs 
 at K'esolution will he immediat(dy re- 
 called. My hed was the hoard lloor: the 
 siihslaiice of my daily fare, caril)on meat, 
 tea. and hi-ead ; my daily occupation, run 
 nin;; from ten to fifteen miles to keep in 
 <'ondition: the at mosi)liere, arctic: not a 
 iiird note to hrealc the silence of the 
 woods, nor a hit of jn'ctty scenery to re- 
 lieve the monotony of the jyreat desert of 
 snow; hnt I was no lon<;i'r jaded in hody 
 and mind; there was no hiinjrer: I was in 
 maynilicent ])liysical condition, and just 
 at the door of the d(>solate Avaste which 
 Avas to open for a successful venture or 
 <'lose ii])on me forever. 
 
 It was well J had not delayed my de- 
 parture fr(»m Fort Smith, nor <;(tne witli 
 IMiinn for the second try at i)is()n, foi* 
 (iaudet told nie tliat my non-ai)i)earance 
 .so lonj^ after the ajjpointed day had con- 
 vinced him I had yielded to jicrsuasion. 
 and given up niv intention of mukiny an 
 att(nn))t to jzet into the Barren Grounds 
 until the later and usual time. TL' said 
 that the runner he had sent after Beni 
 ah could not lind him: that Bciiiah was 
 somewhere in the woods huntiny. and 
 
 a " yreat chief" (tlipse Indiiins ar« cute 
 diplomats) ; that no one had ever ventured 
 into the It.'irieii (iroiinds at that season: 
 hut he wouhl come into thepoNt to talk 
 the niattei- over .seriously so soon as iie 
 shot eitoiiyh meal to make the trip of six 
 days pos>ihle. whi<'h mean! that we should 
 see him in from eiyht to ten days. 
 
 Next day Mercrede and hisdoys started 
 lia<'k for Korl Siiiit h. carry iny the only 
 letter I was able to send out duriny my 
 six months' ahsence. and which Muiin. 
 who intended makiny his w.iy to Kdmon- 
 ton on his return from the hison-hunt 
 with IliiNliy. hatl promised me to cari'y. 
 
 And so I M'ltled to active ))reparation to 
 he in readiness on ihe arrival of iteniali, 
 whom I was determined to induce to niaku 
 tlie trip. There wei'<' doys and an inter- 
 pr(>ter and a driver to enyaye, moccasins 
 and dutVel and mittens and strouds t(» 
 jtrovide. and a heavy caiihoii fur capote 
 and winler carihou rol»e for sleepiny in to 
 secure. Nohody appeared to eiiler upon 
 the task with much zest, and every one 
 shook his head and warned nu^ ayainst 
 the trip. All ayreed that it was an im 
 possible undertak'iny. and (iaudet used 
 his utmost jH'rsuasion to induce me to de- 
 lay my departure until the usual time of 
 the nnisk-ox hunt. 
 
 The Indians time tluiir huntiiiy trips to 
 the Jiarren (trounds (they never yo there 
 except after musk-ox) with llie movement 
 of tlie carihou—/. c. the early summer, 
 about th(! last of April or lirst ])art of 
 ;May, when the cows beyin their miyra- 
 tiou from the woods to the Arctic Ocean, 
 where the calves are dropj)ed in .lune; 
 and in tlic^ early autumn, September and 
 ()ctol)(>r. 
 
 ('Mril)ou are absolutely necessary to the 
 })enetratioii of the l^arren Grounds, be- 
 cause of the im])ossil)ility of either obtain- 
 iny a sullicient supply of ])rovisions to 
 
 the heavy snowfalls had made I'ollowiny last out the trip, or carryiny them if such 
 his tracks imjiossilde: but the i-unner had were to })e had. I'ike made one hunt in 
 
 seen some Indians who were likelv to meet the best and easiest 
 
 y iiy malviny a ))re- 
 
 J^Miiah and tell him he was wanted ;\t the vious tri]) into the Barrens solely for the 
 fort. This was all satisfactory enouyh so purpose of killiny and each i ny cai'iljou, 
 
 far as it went. but il left me in doubt as t 
 
 o w 
 
 hich lessened the chances of starvation 
 
 when I miyht e.x))ect to yet otF for musk- on his next attempt, when, in addition to 
 ox, The second day after my arrival, how- the cached meat, the oppoi-tunity of add- 
 <'ver. an Indian came in with a note from iny to the supply was otl'ered by the 
 I'eniah. written in the hieroyly])hics moviny bands of caribou. Yet he had a 
 which the priests of the Oblates Fathers very hard time of it. Munn on liis sum- 
 invented when lirst tliev bpyan their mis- niev trip had the caribou and fish in the 
 
 sionarv work in tins coiintrv 
 
 numlierless lakes; on his autumn ti'ip he 
 Beniah said, lirst of all. he heard 1 was attempted to better conditions by taking 
 
 I 
 

 BRNIAII AND DRY OKKSK, TWO FAMOT'S nnO-KIR LEAIIRR8, 
 
 From H pliot'^KrKjih hy Mr. WliltTiej. 
 
 along' a supply of poiimlcd di-iiMl iiicat, 
 which was spocilily exlunistcd, iuid ciiri- 
 bou hciiijf scarce, he and his party and 
 their dog's had a starving time of it in- 
 deed. 
 
 Midsuninior is of course the season in 
 which one may visit tlie Barrens with 
 least danger, for at that tim<^ you travel 
 by canoe, caribou are i)lentiful — if you are 
 lucky enough to (ind them: they ai'e very 
 uncertain in their movements and change- 
 ful in their course of migration, which 
 may one year be a hundred miles oast 
 or west of where it was the year before^ 
 tlie thermometer rarely gets below freez 
 ing-point (tliough you are persecuted be- 
 yond endurance by mosquitoesj. and tlie 
 winds luive lost much of their fury. But 
 in summer-time the niuslc-o.x fur is not 
 prime, and of course musk-ox is tlie 
 only excuse for visiting the man-for.saken 
 place. And so trips are conlined to the 
 spring and autumn, when the trials are 
 more sever(\ but tlie reward greater. Tli<' 
 Indians go in parties of from four to six — 
 never less than four, because they could 
 not carry sutHcient wood to enable them 
 to get far enough into the Barrens for 
 reasonable hope of getting musk-ox; and 
 rarely more than six, because by the time 
 they have gone as far as six sledges of 
 wood will permit, they have had all the 
 
 freezing and starving they can stand, even 
 though no musk-ox have been forth com- 
 ing. 
 
 Many parties go into the Barrens and 
 never see even a niusk-ox track, and 
 many moi-e skirmish along tlie edge, fear- 
 ful of a i)lunge into tlie interior, yet hop- 
 inj, 'or the sight of a stray ox. Wood 
 must 1)0 cai-ried. not for warmth nor ne- 
 cessarily to cook meat, but to boil tea: for 
 man could not endure the fatigue and 
 cold and starvation without the stimulus 
 of hot tea once or twice a day. When 
 the sledges are loaded with the requisite 
 su))i)Iy of wood and the sleeping- robes, 
 there is no room left for provisions. To 
 take more sledges would mean more 
 men. more dogs, more moutlis to feed, 
 with no added prospect of feeding them. 
 Thus it is that no attempt is made to carry 
 in provisions, and that a visit to the home 
 of the musk-ox is always attended by 
 great danger, and never without much 
 suU'ering, be the season what it may. 
 None but the younger and hai-diost and 
 most experienced Indians go into the 
 Barrens, and to be a musk-ox hunter is 
 their highest concejition of courage and 
 skill and endurance. 
 
 Bearing' in mind these conditions, it 
 may be imagined with what disfavor my 
 proposed visit in early March was viewed. 
 
500 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 No one would liire luo dogs, assorting I 
 should nevei'get tlieiii back alive; and if 
 Gaiidet had not come to my rescue and 
 let nie have his own train, I fear I should 
 have been cbliged to delay my hunt un- 
 til the usuiii time. I shall never forget 
 the kindness of Gaudet and his sister— he 
 helped me in my seai-ch for an interpret- 
 er and dog-driver, ami in my stndies of 
 the counti'y and people; she .saw that my 
 moccasins and duffel were i)ropei'ly work- 
 ed, and lierself made me a i)air of slip- 
 pers of unborn musk-ox hide, to be worn 
 next the skin, fur side in; 
 and both of them heaped cu- 
 rios upon me in such gen- 
 erous profusion that I grew 
 afi-aid of expressing admira- 
 tion f(;r anything, lest they 
 give it to Mie forthwith. 
 
 I did not pro[)ose to have 
 an^' more cramps in my legs 
 if training would provide 
 against them. I knew such 
 a condition in the Barrens 
 wouUl put an end to all liope 
 of musk-ox. or of my getting 
 out to tell how I didn't shoot 
 one. So aljout every after- 
 ]ioon I took a twelve to lif- 
 teen mile run on Great Slave 
 Lake,and, what with the good 
 meat I was eating three times 
 daily and this exercise, I was 
 so "fit"' wlien I started for the Barrens 
 that no Indians ran me oW my legs, as I 
 was told they would on the ti'ip across 
 the lake. On one of the ;ifternoons I 
 experienced liow suddenly a lake storm 
 gathers, and with what force it b>ir.sts 
 upon the luckless traveller. Had I not 
 fortunately put my compass in my pock- 
 el tluit very morning, [ should ))robably 
 have been on that lake yet, for the snow 
 whirled around me at such a pace and 
 in such quantities as to darken the at- 
 mosphere, and the wind beat upon me 
 witli so great a foi'ce that, bent almost 
 double, I could barely keep moving. I 
 had great diHicnlty in reading the needle 
 and following the direction it indicat<'d; 
 but whei; the prospect of a night on the 
 lake seemed surest, the wind that was 
 blowing otf shore carried the evening 
 tolling of the mission bell to mo, and 
 sweeter sound I nevei* listened to I 
 
 Fort Resolution is one of the most im- 
 portant posts in the country. Though it 
 has not so many claims to disti)iction as 
 
 Musk \ Hiiritint: 
 
 knife .-iiiii Hiirrt-n 
 
 Groilliil A XI-. 
 
 Chipewyan. its natural resources for food 
 are much greater; for near by is the most 
 productive fishery in the country; the 
 Dog-Rib and Yellow-Knife Indians gen- 
 erally keep it supplied with caribou meat 
 in winter, and geese and ducks are fairly 
 ))lentil'ul in spring. Furthermore, it is 
 the only post that secures any quantity 
 of the country luxury — grea.se ; though 
 tlie Indians never bring in marrow, which 
 is a vei-y palatable tidbit. The grease 
 they do bring in is the fat from along the 
 back and around the joints of the caribou, 
 which is called hard gi-ease, in contradis- 
 tinction to the marrow, that is soft. Both 
 of these are used in making pemmican, 
 which is made of dried meat pounded into 
 shreds and mixed with grease, and rolled 
 into balls or made into square or round 
 slabs. 
 
 Pemmican, however, is a i-are article 
 nowadays, and not to be found anywhere 
 soutii of Resolution, and only there on 
 oc( asit)n. This is chietly because caribou 
 are not so plentiful as they were formerly, 
 and the Indians keep most of the grease 
 for their own consumption. Nor do the\' 
 make pemmican to any great extent, 
 their substitute for it being the pounded 
 meat, which is carried in little caribou- 
 skin bags when travelling, and eaten with 
 the grease — a pinch of pounded meat and 
 a bite of grease. I must confess that a 
 plate of i)ounded dried meat and several 
 good-sized lumi)s of clear grease were 
 about the most tempting morsels I had 
 set before me at any time on my trip. 
 One never gets enough of grease in the 
 North-land; it is eat(Mi as some in the 
 civilized world consume sugar; in fact, 
 I developed a craving for sweets that 
 even grease did not satisfy, chietly, I sus- 
 pect, because the supply was so limited, 
 and somewhat m)table in my case for the 
 reason that ordinarily I seldom if ever 
 touch sweets. The absence of bread and 
 vegetables, and the excessive cold, un- 
 doubtedly combine to excite the desire for 
 both grease and sweets. 
 
 Resolution, next to Fort Simpson, is 
 credited, I Ixdievo, with sending out the 
 greatest number of fur ])acks; but how- 
 ever that may he. it certainly is the scene 
 in smnmer of the largest congregation 
 of Indians, when they come out of the 
 woods, pitch their lodges on the lake 
 ..' ore, and settle down to trade their furs 
 and wori-y Gaudet into giving them credit. 
 Trading with an Indian is no trivial mat- 
 
7: 
 
 CI 
 
 > 
 
 H 
 
 tr 
 
 w 
 
 > 
 
 r 
 c 
 o 
 
 n 
 
502 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ter. There is first to pet liim to ])ut a 
 value oil his fur, and then to convince 
 liim that there is enough slock on hand 
 to pay liiin. There is of coui-se no money 
 in this country, a "made heaver" skin 
 being tlie standard of value by which all 
 trade is conducted — as, for example, a 
 marten is worth from two to three bea- 
 ver-skins, and a bear-))elt about twenty 
 beaver skins. On rough calculation the 
 "made beaver" is equal to about fifty 
 cents, though it fluctuates throughout the 
 country. 
 
 "When the Indian has finally agreed 
 upon a ])ric(* for his fur, he ])roce<'ds at 
 once to the company "store," and then 
 the intricate business of trading against 
 bis credit of " made beaver " skins begins. 
 It is impossil)le to deal with more than 
 one Indian at a time, and so they are taken 
 into the "store" singly, and tiic door is 
 bolted, and life immediately becomes a 
 burden to the Hudson Bay Company's 
 oflicei'. If there is anything in the stock 
 that has not been overhauled and priced 
 before the Indian exhausts his credit, it is 
 only because it is out of siglit. I?iit in 
 a way he is a satisfactory sort of a cus- 
 tomer. He is iu>t exacting as to what he 
 gets, so long as he gets something; he may 
 really want beads or diitrel, but if there 
 is none of either he as readily takes a cop- 
 ])er teakettle or a knife. It is quite unim- 
 portant that he may actually need neither. 
 
 lie is particular on one point only, and 
 that is, he never leaves the store so long 
 as he has a " nuule beaver" to sjxMid, and 
 when he has used uj) his due he always 
 makes an eloquent ami vigorous api)eal 
 for gratuity or debt. As a matter of fact, 
 these Indians are most considerately and 
 generously treated by the company: they 
 are paid a good price foi' their fur, and 
 to the worthy, and many times the un- 
 worthy, are often given both debt and 
 gratuity. TiuM'e are no Indians I know 
 of that are better treated, and few as well. 
 Nor have I ever visited a country where 
 trade com i)etition operated less to the ad- 
 vantage of the natives. The few indepen- 
 dent traders that have worked their way 
 into this North country have don(> little, 
 so far as I could see, beyond raising the 
 price of certain kinds of fur al)ove its 
 fair marketable vahn-. which in some 
 lines has necessitated the introduction of 
 an inferior quality of stuif for trade. 80 
 that the Indian has really been the loser. 
 
 Although several hundred Indians bring 
 
 their fur to Resolution, and the "census" 
 of the ])ost is returned as about 300, 
 as at Chipewyan. the actual residence 
 is far below that number, in fact, sev- 
 en families, that comprise sixty souls. 
 Great Slave Lake itself is one of the lar- 
 gest bodies of fresh water in the world, be- 
 ing 300 miles long, with an estimated area 
 of from 11.200 to 15,000 square miles. 
 Great Bear Lalce is but a cou))le of thou- 
 .sand square miles smaller, and the size of 
 both may be judged by comparing them 
 with Lake Michigan, which has 20,000 
 square miles. Fancy Lake Michigan a 
 solid sheet of white, its shores broken by 
 deep bays, and sparsely covered witli 
 smallish pine, and everywhere silence 
 and desolation and snow, and you have 
 •some idea of Great Slave Lake in winter. 
 
 AVith the first Sunday in March came 
 the anxiously awaited Beniah, in a cari- 
 ole. as befitting a hunter of liis reputation, 
 and with an attendant, also riding, as be- 
 came the servant of so powerful a lead- 
 er. He is really the best hunter in the 
 country, and in North-land possessions — 
 fur and dog.s — reckons a deal more than 
 any other individual. He is a "leader " in 
 his tribe — Dog-Rib — in so far as being the 
 head of a hunting i)arty, and of hringing 
 in the largest number of skins to the com- 
 pany. There is no other kind of "lead- 
 ers" in any of the tribes — no councils 
 and no election to such ])rominence hy 
 vote or hereditj'. Leadership is a sur- 
 vival of the fittest, and he who gains the 
 distinction earns it. 
 
 Beniah is much respected by liis peo- 
 ple, and is altogether a very superior Ind- 
 ian ; short in stature, probably five feet 
 five inches, but sturdy. He can talk long- 
 er without exhausting a subject than any 
 man I ever knew. In our subsequent 
 powwow there was no contingency he did 
 not foresee, especially if it was to operate 
 adversely to him. and no jiointof an agree- 
 ment that was not thoroughly threshed 
 out: in fact, he showed a logical mind 
 that sometimes became lost in metaphors, 
 but pretty often had the right end of the 
 solution. He is good-natured, except at 
 such time as he considers his dignity af- 
 froiitcnl by those dependent on his bounty, 
 and somewhat of a wag too. whose most 
 mirtli-iirovoking sally was a i-epeated and 
 crescendo exclamation of ('(h) (Dog -Rib 
 for hot) when it was hitterest cold. The 
 greatest tribute I can pay Beniah is to 
 say that he kept his word with me, and 
 
Ox\ SNOW-SHOES TO THK HARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 503 
 
 that is so rare a virtue among these Ind- 
 ians as to be praise enouj^h. The only 
 thing I treasure against Jiini is liis (hs- 
 tressing rendition of a song whicli liad 
 few Avords and a tune that wailed for 
 longer and shorter periods of time over 
 three treble notes. I could never decide 
 whether it was a song of joy or lamenta- 
 tion, as he set it going on all occasions 
 before we reached tlie Barrens; and then 
 he subsided, for there no opportunity of 
 rejoicing ottered, and no chant, be it ever 
 so dolorous, could liave expressed the 
 depth of our misery. 
 
 There was much mental measuring of 
 one another, of drinking tea and smok- 
 ing, on the day after Beniah's arrival at 
 Resolution, but we did not come to tlie 
 business of my venture until the even- 
 ing. Then we all gathered in Gaudet's 
 room and smoked some more, and talk- 
 iH\ for a long time about everything, as 
 is usual at these powwows, except the 
 one thing in which we were both most 
 interested. Finally the interpreter told 
 Beniali I wanted him to go with me to tlie 
 Barren Gi'ounds, and did not wish to wait 
 until the usual time of hunting; and Be- 
 niali forthwith delivered himself of quite 
 a speecii, in whicli he said he was glad to 
 welcome the first white man to his hunl- 
 ing counti'y, especially one whom he heard 
 was a "great chief"; recited the danger 
 of the Barren Grounds; the impossibility 
 
 of getting Indians to make the attempt at 
 such a season, even if he were willing; 
 explained the absence of lirewood, the 
 chances of freezing or starving to death; 
 and. in fact, told otV the dillicultics to a 
 length for whit;h I have no space here. 
 
 Now I liad sized up the situation long 
 before Beniali arrived at the jiost. and 1 
 had purposely delayed this meeting until 
 I had looked him over a bit in the day, 
 during the smoking and tea - drinking, 
 ^ty knowledge of the Indian charact"r in 
 general, and of this one in particular, had 
 decided me upon a course of diplomacy 
 to induce him to go with me, and I knew 
 if I secured him that he would insist upon 
 his hunters going, if only that misery likes 
 comj)any. I was determined to get into 
 the Barren Grounds, no matter what its 
 terrors. Therefore when I re])lied to Be- 
 niali— through the interpreter, of course 
 I treated all the dangers as a matter of 
 course— I told him I had come to liim be 
 cause his skill and courage were liousc 
 hold words in the greiit world, that my 
 one aml)ition had l)een, if I reached the 
 North, to hinit musk-ox Avitli Beniali; 
 that I had been travelling from my 
 house, which was far. far away, by the 
 '"big water." for many suns, and that 
 now, being here, I was sure so iiisignili- 
 cant a matter as hunger or cold would 
 not deter him from accomiianying me. 1 
 made Beniah feel that my belief in his 
 
 ■IHK LAST WOOD — LAVl.Vli IN A Sl IM'LV K<1K THK HARHKNS. 
 
 Fr'.iii J |.li"lrtt.ni|ili l.v Mr Wliilney. 
 
W\ 
 
 504 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ; si 
 
 courage was uiibouiulcd. T told liiiu I 
 knew the other "leaders " would of 
 course shrink fi'oni exposure, hut they 
 were as " chiidi-eu " to him. I luiule him 
 understand that I had no doni)t of his 
 willingness to go witli me; that it was 
 merely a question of heaver -skins he- 
 tvveen us. and I was ))repared to pay him 
 liberally. I placed him in such a posi- 
 tion that by refusing to go with me lie 
 tacitly acknowledged that he was afraid, 
 tliat he was no greater than the other 
 leaders to whom I had referi-ed as chil- 
 dren when compared with him 
 
 The result was that before tlio meeting 
 clo.sed it, was midnight. l)nt Beniali had 
 promised me to go, provided he could 
 make up his party, and we wei-e to start 
 next day for his lodge, which was in the 
 woods ..."Kit three days east of Fort Rae, 
 and six days' h-avel north from Resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 The little post of Resolution was shaken 
 to its foundation next day when it learn- 
 ed tliat we really intended starting, and 
 there was a great shaking of heads, aiul 
 many direful prophecies told for our ben- 
 efit. But I felt sure Beniah would not 
 turn tail, since he had given me his word ; 
 and as for myself, I had been having I'o- 
 tliing but discouragement since first I set 
 out. At noon my sledge was dragged 
 into the post, and packed with my outiit, 
 which consisted of a winter caribou-skin 
 robe, lined with a pair of 4-point H.B.C. 
 blankets, and 'made into a bag (which I 
 subsequently ripped open : the popular 
 supposition that a bag is best is faulty; 
 you can sleep much warmer in the un- 
 sewed robes, b cause yon can roll them 
 about you more snugly), one heavy cari- 
 bou -.;kin capote, one cloth capott. one 
 sweater, two pairs of 
 mittens, one pair noo^e- 
 skin gloves, one pair leg- 
 gings, three silk hand- 
 kerchiefs, eight ])air moc- 
 casins, eight pair duH^'el 
 socks, one coi)))er tea- 
 kettle, one cup, my rifle 
 and hunting-knife, com- 
 pass, camera, thermom- 
 eter, ten pounds of tea, 
 twelve pounds of tobac- 
 co, ten pounds of flour, 
 and ten balls of pemnii- 
 can (provisions I intend- 
 ed to cache at the last 
 wood, wliere, if W3 suc- 
 
 ceeded in getting l)ack. 
 I know we should ar- 
 rive in a starving con- 
 dition), two bottles of 
 my old friend nuistang 
 liniment, a ))int of 
 brandy I had carried 
 from Hamilton, and 
 the antiseptic lozenges 
 and bandages, and io- 
 doform, in case it lie- 
 came necessary to play 
 surgeon for one of the 
 party or myself. 
 
 We were ready to start at three, and I 
 was waiting for my dog driver and in- 
 terpreter, when word came that he liad 
 backed out, and Gaudet renewed his ef- 
 forts to dissuade me from the trij). But 
 I liad not come so far to be daunted by so 
 inconsiderable a thing as deprivation of 
 speech or driving my own dogs, and I 
 motioned Beniah to move on. A:id now 
 tliere was a hand-shaking- that seemed to 
 have no ending, for every one pressed 
 upon me closely, and grasped my hand 
 solemnly and in silence. It was rather 
 a funereal leave-taking. There is a little 
 l)ortage of about a mile that leads out 
 froi.i Resolution to the west on to Great 
 Slave Lake, and Gaudet ran along with 
 me over this; 'ind as he ran, told me the 
 names ol the dogs: Foro (the foregoer), 
 Finnette, Flossie, and Blucher (the steer 
 dog). And then we came to the lake, and 
 halted for a last goodby. Kind-hearted 
 Gaudet seemed jnuch depi'es.sed ; and as 
 for me — well, at any rate, I was started, 
 and if fate ruled that T never came back, 
 my place would bo (iiled, and the ^^orld 
 roll on as usu^*!; so, with a heart for any 
 fate, I called out in-a-arche to Foro, and 
 the journey to the Bari'ens was begun in 
 earnest. 
 
 I had no time for meditation, for my 
 work was cut out from the start. Beniah 
 and his Indian were riding in carioles, 
 and swinging along at a clipping gait; 
 and though my load was light, and my 
 dogs better than theirs, I did not ride, 
 because I wished to save them as much as 
 ])ossil)le. So Beniah sped on ahead, and 
 I followed on behind, going easily, for 
 my training had nuule me very fit. And 
 I had learned enough, too, to keep on 
 my snow-shoes, though the lake would 
 havo permitted going without. Running 
 on ice without snow-shoes has the same 
 effect on leg muscles as an unyielding 
 
ox SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 505 
 
 armory floor after a cinder track. After 
 four liours we came that niylit to Sto- 
 ny Island, twenty -two miles from Res- 
 olution, wliere we camped, and whose 
 only interest for me lay in the fact that 
 here, seventy-five years before. Sir John 
 Franklin had breakfasted on the trip 
 which closed so disastrously for his party. 
 We slept in a tiny cabin with thirteei" 
 otliers, men, women, and children, and 
 I appreciated for the first time in what 
 filth human beings will wallow. 
 
 Next morning several Indians joined 
 lis, and we put in a long- hard day on 
 tlie lake, out of sight of the shore most 
 of the time, I running', ami all the Ind- 
 ians in carioles. About 4.30 we came 
 to a point where the Indians hauling 
 meat to Resolution had made ;i cache, 
 iind here we halted, and a lire was 
 lighted. I shall never forget my at- 
 tempts to learn how nuich farther on 
 we were going that night. I can see 
 myself now sitting on the rocks, setting 
 up miniature lodges in the snow with 
 little twigs, and using my few Dog-Rib 
 words, co}i (fire), ethar (farj, supple- 
 mented with numerous gestures, to ascer- 
 tain if the lodge lire was to be far away. 
 My efforts created much amusement, but 
 drew no information, and I realized how 
 very much alone I was indeed. Nor 
 shall I forget my amazement and my re- 
 lief at seeing another fire lighted and 
 camp made for the night not twenty 
 yards from the fii'st where we had eaten. 
 
 If there is one thing these Indians know 
 liow to do it is to build a roaring fire 
 where wood is plentiful ; first of all, pine 
 brush is cut down and laid about three 
 feet high in a semicircle, on top of which 
 the sledges are lifted to keep them from 
 the voracious dogs. The opening of the 
 semicircle is piled high with wood, and 
 when lighted throws out warmth enough 
 to keej) you comfortable so long as it 
 lasts, even with the mercury at its lowest. 
 About noon the ne.xt day we left the lake, 
 striking nortii, and for three days, start- 
 ing at six and going until eight and nine 
 at night, we travelled across a rough 
 country, broken up by ridges and filled 
 with lakes— most of the ridges bare of all 
 timber, and the (>.;ly trees dwarfed. All 
 this time I had htm running and the 
 Indians riding, and I was not sorry when 
 on the night of tlie third day we i-eached 
 Beniah's camp, which proved to be quite 
 the bijrgest settlement I luid seen, for these 
 
 Indians roajn Jibout in small parties of 
 one or two lodges. Only a few conse- 
 quential leadei-s like Beniah have a fixed 
 habitation, and then it is only used in 
 summer, when the fishing is going for- 
 wai'd. 
 
 Here, while Beniah was explaining my 
 mission and making up his j)arty. 1 |)ul 
 in three very uncomfortable days. To say 
 
 THK Indian's tool kit — axe, crooked knikk 
 
 (HO.ME-MAnE), AND KILE. 
 
 that I was an object of curiosity would be 
 putting it mildly; I was indeed a stranger 
 in a strange land. The men examined 
 over and again every article I possessed : 
 the women stared me out of countenance : 
 the mothers used me as a bugaboo t() 
 hush their crying babies: and the dogs 
 crowded about me so tlireateningly that 
 I never ventured outside the lodge with- 
 out my whip. I was the fir.st white man 
 they had .seen, and one and all made the 
 most of their opportunity. I was on ex- 
 hibition with a vengeance, only, unlike 
 other freaks. I had no hours; the show 
 opened when I arose in the morning, and 
 was still on when I rolled up in my 
 blankets at night. Aiul I, on my jiart, 
 made most careful scrutiny of the curious 
 surroundings in which I found myself. 
 We were camped on top of a ridge covered 
 with small pines, where B(>niah had made 
 his last stand to keep up with the caribou 
 that were just beginning to work out to 
 the edge of the woods. There were three 
 lodges, all full, and, .so long as I remain- 
 ed, the occupants of the other two spent 
 the greater ])art of their time in Beniah's. 
 In times of i)rosperity these Indian 
 tepees are by no means unsightly. They 
 are of caribou-skin stretched around and to 
 within al)out thi-ee feet of the top of poles, 
 which number according to the si/.e of the 
 
606 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 lodge. The sides of ilie circle are banked 
 up with snow and pine l)nisli. and, inside, 
 tlie smallest brusli rnaices a clean-lookin<»' 
 and pleasantly sniellinj;' lloor. The open 
 Ih'e occupies the (tentre: and above it, 
 stretched from side to side of the l()d<,fe. 
 are poles upon which the meat is placed 
 to thaw, and from which the kettles art; 
 suspended. 
 
 Around this lire the men an<l women 
 sit, tailor fashion, all day, jabbering,' in- 
 cessantly in their <,nittural speech that is 
 impossible to des(!ribe in writinj.r. and at 
 nifflit they roll up in their blankets and 
 stretch out with their feet at the very 
 lire's edge. I used to wonder what on 
 earth they found to talk .ibout, for the 
 clatter never came to a full stop, aiul 
 wlien I lay down at times, trying in 
 
 slumber to escnpe 
 the din, it seemed as 
 though it must all 
 be a hideous dream. 
 But any such illu- 
 sion was speedily 
 <lispelled by the 
 yelping of a dog 
 that h;ul worked its 
 way into the lodge, 
 and was being 
 clubbed until it 
 worked its way out 
 iigaiii. 
 
 Domestic econom- 
 ics are a dead letter 
 in the Indian household. There is no 
 place for any i)articular thing, and no- 
 thing is ever in any particular place. The 
 back part of the lodge, where it is too cold 
 tositeven when the tire blazes highest. ap- 
 pears to be the general store-room. Ev- 
 erything not in inmiediate use is thrown 
 there in indiscriminate confusion. If the 
 squaw has finished stripping a cai'ibou leg 
 of Its meat, she tosses the bone over her 
 shoulder into the unknown behind her; 
 if she has completed the lacing of a snow- 
 slioe, it is served similarly; the Indian 
 hurls his knife there when he is througii 
 with it, anil the children do the same with 
 the bones or intestines or bits of meat 
 they may have tilched from the feasting, 
 in which they never share. And when 
 there is a demand for any article, such an 
 overhauling ensues as would put to shame 
 a May - day house -cleaning. Children 
 are not much in evidence in the Indian 
 household. They rarely cry, for experi- 
 ence has taught them tiiat such outward 
 
 NOllTtlWKST S(l( K "i? 
 DIIFFKI.. 
 
 expression of grief or alarm or hurt meets 
 with much personal discomfort. If they 
 are in the moss-bag age, which usually 
 ends at two, they are pu' into a sort of 
 hammock within the lodge and rocked 
 at a terrifying i)ace, to the accompani- 
 ment of a crooning that would strike ter- 
 ror to the heart of any cryijig babe. If 
 they are old enough t ) toddle, they are 
 turned out of doors to tell their sorrows 
 to the winds. 
 
 The Indian has no i)atience for the 
 little solicitudes of life, nor for its fri- 
 volities. His amusements are few and 
 simple. Outside of a .something that re- 
 .sendjles that ancient pastime of " button, 
 button, who has the button?" and where 
 the penalty is a jjiece of tobacco, there 
 are no games to speak of. The dancing 
 is exceedingly awkward and crude — a 
 shutHing about in a circle, varied by hop- 
 ])ing up and down, and the music con- 
 IiiuhI to the monotony of the single-head- 
 ed drum, or mayliap an occasional liddle 
 picked up at the post, winch in that case 
 .squeaks through a medley of reels. Their 
 dearest recreation is sleeping, since most 
 of their lime is spent in procuring food, 
 and the balance in resting fronj the toil 
 required to obtain it. 
 
 The day after my arrival Beniah took 
 up seriously the question of getting vol- 
 unteers for the musk-ox hunt. At least 
 I judged so from the gathering of the men 
 in our lodge, the long and earnest confer- 
 ence, and the displeased looks that were 
 every now and again cast my way. It 
 must be remembered that I knew ])racti- 
 cally nothing of the language, and was 
 dependent on signs. My Dog-Rib vocab- 
 ulary consisted of curve, stop; ecla oulee. 
 what is it called? ethar, far; con, fire: 
 ega, hurry; Iwt, meat; oole, none; ilia. 
 no: (7<, yes; too, water; ethen, caribou: 
 ejeri, musk-ox ; cdzar, cold ; and sla, plen- 
 ty — words that Gaudet told me at the last 
 minute, when niy interpreter backed out. 
 and which I wrote down phonetically just 
 as I was starting. I picked up a few others 
 afterwards, but had really always to rely 
 on signs, and I found the Indians not only 
 dull of coniprehension, although they or- 
 dinarily learn much quicker by the eye 
 than by the ear, but disinclined to under- 
 stand me. Tltey seemed, with one or two 
 exce])tiotis, to wi.sh to make it as ditRcult 
 for ine as possible. 
 
 Judging by appearances, Beniah was 
 having a heated time of it persuading 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 507 
 
 them to go into tlie Burrens, as I sup- 
 posed he would havo, and the storm that 
 had blown up, and tho coid, wliich my 
 thermometer registered as 46" below, did 
 not tend to increase tlieir liking for the 
 venture. But I was convinced that Be- 
 niah W(Mtld bring it about, because these 
 Indians could not all'ord to deny him, and 
 he would not, could not, go without them. 
 
 It was a lugubrious day that, for no 
 meat was in the lodge, a hunter had been 
 found frozen dead at his traps, .some one 
 had died in the adjoining lodge, and there 
 was mourning in the air. My first intima- 
 tion of the death was most dreadful femi- 
 nine wailing, .seconder by mournful howl- 
 ing of the dogs, which all together made 
 such distressing bedlam as I hope never to 
 hear again. The coHin Avas a rude slai) 
 box axe-hewn from the i)ine, bound to- 
 getlier by babiche, and suspended from a 
 single pole, by which it was borne as a 
 litter on the shoulders of two Indians, 
 one in front and one behind. Following 
 were some half-dozen women, all chant 
 ing a most direful dirge; and as the little 
 procession disappeared over the ridge the 
 dogs sat on their haunches on top of tlie 
 hill and whined a last requiem for the 
 poor wretch, who would nevermore strug- 
 gle for life in the white desert. 
 
 Next day I knew Beniali had succeeded 
 in organizing a party, for the women l>e- 
 gan relacing snow-shoes and making mit- 
 tens, and the men set to work shaving 
 down pine poles into extra runners for 
 the sledges. The Indian's tool-kit consists 
 of an axe, a large file, and a "crooked 
 knife," which has a blade made from a 
 file, a bone handle, and in general appear- 
 ance looks somewhat like a farrier's knife. 
 It is an implement of general utility, car- 
 ried by all, and exceedingly deft in the 
 hands of some. The original of tlie dog- 
 whip handle illustrated in an earlier pa- 
 per, and really a very creditable piece of 
 carving, was made with just such tools 
 by William Flett, a Loucheux, and the 
 
 A mnsON HAY I'OMl'ANV 
 Kill " I'ACK," 
 
 interpreter at Fort Smith. When tlicy 
 go after musk-ox ihey add a huge weaj)on 
 with a bhide nine inches long and one- 
 eightli of an inch thick (and the best 
 shaped point for skinning I ever used), 
 whicii l)ecomes at once hunting-knife and 
 Barren Ground axe — for notliing laiger 
 for cho|)ping is taken or required. 
 
 As the men toiled away at tin* i)in«' 
 slabs, slijiving oil' about two inches for a 
 length of .seven feet with their crooked 
 knives, and the women hured snow-shoes. 
 I woiulered if I had ever .seen peo])le do 
 more work and accomjdish less. If there 
 is a roundabout way, these In i' ' ts sc '< 
 it out; a straight line does nol appeal to 
 them in any form. They always begin 
 at the wrong eiul, and choose the longest 
 way. And as for i)itching camp, a white 
 man of any experience who could not do 
 better would be well laughed at by his 
 iiunting comjjanions. Between niakijig 
 up their mind as to the precise piece of 
 grouiul on which to pitch it, and getting 
 into one another's way while doing so, 
 the length of time tliey take would make 
 any man of roughing experience disgust 
 ed. F 'W fervently I used to wish for ii 
 connnand of their language to give a fev, 
 instructions, and, incidental ly. my o])in ion 
 of them individiuilly and collectively! 
 
 And all the time they kettp up an in 
 cessant jabber, or stop work entirely in 
 the heat of discussion. Between chatter 
 
 OLD FLINTLOCK TRADED TO THE INDIANS, AND MOOSK-SKIN GUN-COAT. 
 
508 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 :t: 
 
 ;5 
 
 ing and, in the lodge, catcliing vermin, 
 witli wliicli the women and children es- 
 pecially are literallv alive, the wonder is 
 they ever accomplish anytliin<>'. 
 
 How gratified I was when on the third 
 <lay we finally left tlie women, some of 
 the vermin, and the lodges, and started 
 on our way to the liarren Grounds, I 
 shall not attempt to sa}'. It seemed to me 
 that the starving and freezing that lay be- 
 fore me were little less to be dreaded than 
 the filth and monotony I was leaving be- 
 hind. Not that I left all tlie filth or ver- 
 min behind, for my seven Indians took 
 along a gei crous .«hare, but, at any late. 
 I was "It i.; t'le open, instead of being 
 sanUw ' •• between women and chil- 
 dren ti, - .aa ■ me crawl only to look 
 at them. 
 
 There was a ve" . olemn leave-taking 
 on the day we left Beniah's lodge. Every 
 man embraced and ki.ssed every woman, 
 the men shook hands, und the children 
 sat down in the snow and stared, and as 
 we moved off the dogs left behind sent 
 up their wolfish chorus. 
 
 Beniah and I had held a sign-talk that 
 morning, and I nuide out that there was 
 no meat i;i the lodge, which was no news, 
 as we had eaten but tea and grease for 
 two days; that in one "sleej)."' i.e., by 
 to-morrow morning, we should be where 
 there were caribou ; stop there one sleep, 
 and then go on hw ejeri ; meanwhile his 
 con, fire — i.e., house— would be moved to 
 
 the toocho. big water. /. e., (.ireat Sia%'e 
 Lake, because here where we were it was 
 bef-uole, no meat. I understood from this 
 that his wife would goto the lakes, around 
 which the Indians always settle when the 
 deer fail, and whei-e she Avould await our 
 return, sui)sisting on what fish could be 
 caught under the ice or what rabbits 
 might be snared in tlie woods. 
 
 The one " sieei) " did not bring us up to 
 the caribou, but it took us north to the 
 lodge of another Indian, who had been 
 more fortunate than we. Here for one 
 day we feasted and the Indians slept, 
 and when we started on again the next 
 morning Beniah signed me that we were 
 now off for musk-ox. Another day of 
 ti-avel in a fearful wind, the mei'cury at 
 47" below, over rocky ridges and through 
 pine that was growing smaller and moie 
 scattering as we advanced, and at night 
 we camped on the shoi-e of King Lake. 
 
 The next morning we lingered for a 
 couple of hours, while the Indians cut and 
 trimmed lodge-poles that we must carry 
 with us. And as 1 climbed to the top of 
 a rock^' ridge, and. viewed the desert of 
 treeless snow extending far into the hoi-i- 
 zon before rae, I knew we had come to the 
 edge of the timber, and that the Barren 
 Grounds, in all their desolation, lay be- 
 fore me. And I thought, as I stood and 
 gazed into the cheerless waste, that if 
 death marked my venture, it would not 
 be a hard countrv to leave. 
 
 CUTTI.VO LOUGE-POLES ON THE FDGE OK THE TIMBER. 
 
 From a pho(o(jra|ili by Mr. Whitney, 
 
>7 
 
 ON 
 
 •Snow Shoes- 
 
 •TO -THE • 
 
 Barren Grounds 
 
 BY 
 
 Caspar-W' Whitney- 
 
 v.— MUSK-OX AND DESOLATIOX. 
 
 TT7E left all hopes of a warniiiiff (ire on 
 T T tlie south side of Kins' T-iJike, wiien 
 we laslied the newly cut lodg-e-poles to 
 our sledges and took up our northward 
 way tlirough tlie outlying relics of tim- 
 ber-land, which the Indians aptly call 
 the "Land of Little Sticks." Tiiere is 
 no abrupt ending of the timber-line. 
 For a day or two before reaching King 
 Lake the trees are growing smaller and 
 more scarce ; as you draw nearer they 
 stretch away like irregular lines of skir- 
 mishers deployed along the frontier to in- 
 tercept further encroachment by the Bar- 
 ren Grounds. And now you pa.ss beyond 
 these sentries and travel along a ridge 
 which makes out into the white desert — 
 a long wooded jjeninsula — or mayhap 
 you cross a lake to find a wooded island 
 on the other side. Gradually — imper- 
 ceptibly almost — the ])eninsulas grow 
 shorter and the islands smaller, until 
 finally you stand on the shore of King 
 Lake and look north into desolation. 
 
 Prol)ably the roughest country in all 
 the North-land is tliit going down to the 
 Barrens. Nature appears to have made 
 an effort to stay the footsteps of the wan- 
 derer while yet there is opportunity to 
 turn from the trials that awaif .m be- 
 
 yond. Isolated hills, sharp little ridges, 
 and narrow shallow valleys, running 
 hither and thither, all rock-covered, and 
 every now and again a lake, go to make 
 up a rugged and confused whole. One 
 could well fancy some Titan p!oughma)i 
 hud cross-sectioned the land into huge 
 ridge and furrow, stopping here and there 
 to raise a mound, and sowing all with 
 rocks of every shajje and size. It looks 
 forbidding, and it is a great deal more so 
 than it appears. 
 
 'Twas over such going I had my first 
 real experience in dog-driving, for up till 
 now there had been little handling of the 
 sledge, and therein lie all the ditliculties 
 of the art. If you can imagine a canoe 
 pitching in .short choppy waves, you will 
 gain some idea of the action of a lightly 
 loaded sledge being dragged over this 
 ridge and furrow and rock. Without 
 guidance the sledge would soon pound 
 itself to pieces, so you humor and coax 
 it through tlie furrows, ease it around or 
 lift it over tlie rocks, pull with the dogs 
 in climbing the ridge, and pull against 
 them in going down. And all the time, 
 because of your enforced running along- 
 side the head of the sledge, in order to han- 
 dle it by the '" tail-line," you are tripping 
 
718 
 
 ILVltl'ERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 over rocks yoti raiinot sot\ b('iii{;f jmhuikmI 
 in l)etvv('en others yoii ciiiiiioL escape, or 
 blockiiiff tlio progress of tlic; sledye witli 
 an iinii or a lej,', or, ot'teii as not, willi 
 your liead. 
 
 Tlic Indians left me to woi'k out my 
 own salvation, and my dopfs added dilli- 
 culties to tli()S(! nature liad already lib- 
 eriiliy provided. The most excitinj;:, and 
 withal discomfortinfi:, moments I had wei'o 
 in ffoinj^ down hill. Whethei" in con- 
 tempt for my inexperience, or misun- 
 derstand in{.f my commands, whenever wo 
 heffan a descent and I callcnl w-1'.-o-a. 
 Foro, th«^ fore^foer, invarial)ly broke into 
 a run, startinj,^ up the otluM" doys, and 
 drajjfji^inf,'' after them mti, han<jin<i^ to the 
 t.iil-line, of whicii I did not h>t <;o, ])e- 
 cause I thoiijfht it just as well tlie do;?s 
 learned early in the p^ame that they 
 could not "shake"' me. And .so some- 
 times I went down hill head-first, at oth- 
 er times feet-lirst; but the speed of the 
 dog^s never lessened until the bottom had 
 been reached, except when I brouglit up 
 against a rock, stopping them short, and 
 nearly dislocating: my arms thei'oby. 
 
 By-aiid-by I j^rew skilful enough to 
 stay on my feet once in a while, and on 
 such occasions a rush after the dogs at 
 top speed would take me up to the fore- 
 goer about half-way down the hill, where 
 I fell on him as though he were a foot- 
 ball rolling back of the line from a 
 blocked kick and I was after a touch- 
 down. And then we wore rather a 
 mixed-up lot, I and the dogs and the 
 sledge — until I had given Foro a few 
 samples of my English pronunciation. 
 
 Poor old Foro! how miserable he made 
 my life for a while 1 After I had dropped 
 on him half a dozen times in the middle 
 of a wild gallop down hill he began to 
 understand my w h-o-a, and then we got 
 on better. 
 
 And what a lesson, too, in snow-shoeing 
 was this dog-driving I It was reasonable, 
 I suppose, for me to believe my.self some- 
 what skilled on snow-shoes by the time 
 I had reached Great Slave Lake. But 
 when I started from Beniah's lodge I 
 discovered there was much to learn. No 
 man may consider himself an expert on 
 snow-shoes until he has driven dogs and 
 handled a sledge over such country as 
 that approaching the "Land of Little 
 Sticks" — even the heart-breaking and 
 shoe-tripping muskeg is not a circum- 
 stance to it. 
 
 Within the borders of tli(> Land of 
 Little Sticks (lie gt'ueral character of the 
 i'ountry becomes more rolling. The rocks 
 an^ always in evich-nce, but the furrows 
 have broadened to valleys, and the ridges 
 lost their sharpness and gained in height. 
 Still, the little sharj) ridges and furrows 
 never disappear entirely. One day you 
 may see them only here and thei'e; on 
 anotliei" probably every el(!V.ttion will re- 
 veal them. To a larger or sniallei' extent 
 they are scattered through all that part 
 of the Barrens I travelled over, and are 
 the most lik<dy nnisk-ox grounds, because 
 of the moss and lichens that cling to the 
 rocks, and are the easier gathered. The 
 "little sticks" are pine or juniper, from 
 three to eight feet high, that in small 
 ])atches are scattered — I do not know how 
 many miles apart, but I can give an idea 
 by saying that during the day of thirty- 
 five to forty miles' travel on the course we 
 l)ursued we came upon probably a couple 
 of these clumps each day of the two and a 
 lialf we spent crossing the Land of Little 
 Sticks. P]ach night we camped Avhere the 
 bushes grew into smallish trees and cov- 
 ered ])i'obably half an acre. But be- 
 tween these patches nothing inllanmiable 
 showed above the snow — not even a twig. 
 
 As we worked our way due north, trav- 
 elling by the sun when it shone, as Ind- 
 ians always do, and by my compass when 
 it stormed, as it mostly did, we climbed 
 to the top of the highest elevations that 
 lay in our course or near it, and while we 
 smoked a pipe, viewed the forlorn ))ano- 
 rama which, when the storm permitted, 
 unrolled before us so repeatedly and mo- 
 notonously. There it was, always the 
 same, unchangeable and unchanged — 
 glittering snow, ridge -encircled lakes, 
 rocky mounds and basins, and far away 
 in the distance a small black speck, per- 
 haps—a wood oasis in the desert of snow. 
 
 From the hour of leaving our lucky 
 friend in the woods, two days before, we 
 had eaten no meat. We had kept a sharji 
 though unsuccessful lookout for caribou. 
 Beniah had produced some grease from a 
 little bag he carried, and another Indian 
 had found a piece of frozen caribou intes- 
 tine in the depths of his sledge, and these, 
 with a few hitherto undiscovered bones, 
 remains of dog-feed, stayed our eight stom- 
 achs for the first day's travel in the Land 
 of Little Sticks. We had taken along no 
 supply of dried meat or grease, because 
 caribou signs at the edge of timber con- 
 
 
r- 
 
 im.-, 
 
 Jjwk^-M^iA^f 
 
 / 
 
 A PIPE IN THE LANn OF" MTTI.K STICKS. 
 
 Kroiu u |iliutuKr»|>li by Mr. Whlluiy. 
 
 
 viiicetl the Indians that the cows had Ijo- 
 gun their nii^n-alion to tlie North, and we 
 shouUl he ahh; to kill eiioii;j;li for the dogs 
 and ourselves. But all signs fail in the 
 Barren Grounds. The carihou may have 
 been moving, but they were not moving 
 our way. 
 
 Throughout that second day scouts were 
 sent to the east and west searching for 
 carii)ou. and on top of every hill in our 
 path we halted and hungrily scianned the 
 uncomi>i'omising wilderness for a sight of 
 meat. The usual chatter of the Indians 
 had ceased. In silence, and against a 
 strong head-wind, we plodded all day long, 
 and when in the gloaming we set up our 
 h)dge in one of the little patches of pine, 
 there was nothing left us for the even- 
 ing meal but tea and a pipe. 
 
 As we squatted around the tire await- 
 ing the melting of the snow in the tea- 
 kettle, the Indians appeared to be hold- 
 ing a consultation, and shortly one of 
 them left the circle and went to my 
 sledge. So soon as he began unlacing 
 the wrapper I had a fairly clear idea what 
 he was after, and as quickly realized that 
 1 was in for a "scrap." I watched the 
 Indian, however, without dissent, and all 
 the other Indians watched me, until he 
 had uncovered and begun opening the 
 bag in which were the dozen balls of i)em- 
 iiiican I had brought from Fort Resolution. 
 And then I said, '•Ilia''' (no). The Ind- 
 ian hesitated in his foraging, and looked 
 lirst at me. probably to discover if I was 
 serious, and then to the others, for en- 
 couragement, I suppose. Evidently he got 
 it; at leask there was a chorus of guttur- 
 als, and he set to work at the bag again. 
 And now I rose on my knees and called 
 
 him by name — Seeyah — and when he 
 pau.sed and lo(>k(>d at me, I added, rather 
 louder and more earnestly, " Ilhi, itlti.''' 
 That would have been the end of the pirat- 
 ical episode, I think, had Seeyah been the 
 captain of the ci-ew; but while he stood 
 undecided, with his hand in the bag. the 
 others maintained an animated council 
 of war, in whose utterances I seemed to 
 recognize ai)peals of urgency to him and 
 of detiance to me, and .so Seeyah renewed 
 the attack. 
 
 I perfectly realized the unpleasantness 
 of my position, but I felt tlie situation 
 bore most importantly on the relations 
 between the Indians and me for the bal- 
 ance of the trip. It was a crisis 1 would 
 have cheerfully averted, but being thrust 
 upon me, I believed the success of my 
 venture, to say nothing of my peace of 
 mind, depended on how I survived it. It 
 was not only that the Indians should at 
 this period of their hunger consume those 
 few balls of pemmican, but it was that their 
 disregard of my commands might in the 
 future lead to greater recklessness in pro- 
 visions; and recklessness of provisions 
 was just as apt as not to end in our star- 
 vation, or, what concerned me more, fail- 
 ure of my trij). I had fetched the pem- 
 mican to have at a time and cache at a 
 place when, as near as I could estimate, 
 we should be in direst need. To eat it 
 now, with the journey barely begun, was 
 to rob us of our last resource. I fell if I 
 could go without meat for two days and 
 resist tiie tnptation of eating, they, whose 
 very existence is divided into alternate 
 periods of feasting and fasting, could also, 
 and must, if my determination was to car- 
 ry weight. 
 
790 
 
 lIAllI'KirS NKW MONTHLY MAGA/INK. 
 
 m 
 
 INDIAN I.KIidlNII. 
 
 I wiis not a litllf «>X!is|)('riilt'(I, too, llmt 
 tlm liidiiiiis should triMt my wislics willi 
 coiiti'iM|»l, and .so wlicii Srcviili fciH'Wfd 
 liis <x|)loriitioiis for pciiiiiiicnn I cont'tfss 
 I WHS ill til liiiiiioi- to 
 leave III) doillil ill tlieii- 
 minds us to uliom tlio 
 disposition ol'llial pein 
 miean icI iiaily lielon;^' 
 ed. .Iiimoiny to my 
 I'eet. I <;i'al)i)( d tlie lli(l- 
 ian l»y the slioiilder 
 and jcrUed him uuay 
 from my sUmIj:'*'. I n- 
 slantly all the Indians 
 wfire on tlieir feet, juh- 
 hei'iiifr and jresticula- 
 liny at u <,'reat rate; 
 and while the storm 
 of tlii'ir displeasure 
 ra<jed. I iiacUed up 
 against my sledge and 
 awaited its ahatemeiit, 
 sliontins; illd evei-y 
 now and atjfain, and 
 keepiii<if ii sharp look- 
 out for any sudden movement on their 
 ])arl. As I writ(^ now, and in my mind's 
 eye see tliose Indians grouped ahout the 
 toalcettlo, all talking at once, and casting 
 lowering looks at me, l)ack against my 
 sledge, shouting illd whenever I thought 
 they could hear m<' ahove their own din, 
 the situation seems very ludicrous. Jjiit 
 the liumor of it did not appeal to me so 
 much at that time. 
 
 Finally, when there came a lull in the 
 vocal bombardment, I stejjped forward 
 and entered upon the most elaborate and 
 important speech I had yet, attempted in 
 tlie sign language. I held their attention 
 for probal)ly thirty mimiles, and there 
 was no interruption save when tlie dogs 
 broke into the loilge and scrambled and 
 fought all over us, until whipped out 
 again. I expressed to them that [ had 
 brought the ])emmican not for myself, but 
 for us all; that we had only begun our 
 journey; that there might come a tinu^ 
 when it would save us from death; that I 
 intended leaving it at the last wood; that 
 they could not get it now without light- 
 ing for it, ami if we fought I should sure- 
 ly bt! killed, as we were in quarters too 
 conlined to use any weapon but a knife, 
 ami they were sev(Mi against me. and then 
 the " Big Master" (the Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany's commissioner, Mr. Chipman, who 
 I hope will forgive my liking him to an 
 
 implacable Nemesis in my liour of need) 
 would lake all their skins away, and kill 
 them and their women and children. I 
 do not believe at any time they really 
 had an idi^a of .serious personal cnnllici. 
 but, alall events. I made them understand 
 tiiey could not get the pemmican that 
 night without putting me out of the way, 
 ai.d they left otV iiiiittering-, drank tlieir 
 lea in sullen silence, glaring at nm over 
 the top of their cups. i'.ej'ore pipes had 
 been lighted two of the scouts came in, 
 each with a <'ai'il)ou hea<l on his l)ack and 
 bearing the good news that three had 
 been killed. So peace I'eigned again in 
 the lodge, and the late unpleasantness was 
 forgotten, while we feasted on the ears 
 and eyes and tongnt's of those two heads. 
 
 But these two heads among eight men 
 furnishe<l, of course, only a. mouthful 
 a))iecc, and the real feast, and, I may add, 
 our last, began the next morning, when 
 we came to where the three carcassc^s of 
 the caribou lay. It ha|)peiied that there 
 were a few scattering little sticks nearby, 
 and half of us gathered firewood, while 
 the others guarded the caribou from the 
 rapacious dogs. To hold the dogs in 
 check is to turn the sledges upside down 
 and sit on them. But all the whih; the 
 dogs jiunp and lug and howl, and now 
 and again one slips his simple harnes.s, 
 and then nothing sliort of a blow that 
 knocks iiim nearly sens(iless drives him 
 from the caribou. It is cruel treatment, 
 but the necessity is extreme. Sometimes, 
 even with tin; sledge tui-ned over, the 
 starving, straining dogs get. started tow- 
 ards the coveted ])iMze, and then every 
 man sets upon them witli whipstock and 
 lash, for once those four dogs got to tlie 
 carcass, tln-re would be no hope of rescu- 
 ing any of the meat. Sometimes, fren- 
 zied by their unsuccessful ell'orts to get 
 the meat, they turn on one another, and 
 then ensues a dog-light of such fury as 
 can never be witnessed anywhere beyond 
 the liarren Grounds, with its maddening 
 conditions. 
 
 Even thoiig'i i)y some transcendent and 
 ])rovideiitial means I should be given 
 l)lenty to eat not anything could induce 
 me to again visit the liarreiis and witness 
 the sutferiuii's of tliosn poor dumb brutes. 
 Only for one peric/d (I think-, tlioiigh not 
 absolutely certp.in, because I was too cold 
 and miserable to write in my note-book 
 every day, and must depend largely on 
 memory) of three days on the trip did 
 
UN SNOW- SHOES TO IlIK iSAliKKN (JltorNDS. 
 
 r','1 
 
 tlioy po riilircl\- witlioiit iiiciit. At, .ill 
 otliei's tlit'V liiid Ik litll*'. just ii. iiioiiliil'iil. 
 oxct'pt t\\ i(M', w lien \vt' t'iiiii|HMl Wy u ydixj 
 killiii^r of iiiiisU - ox, iilid thfii tlicy liiK'tl 
 sumpluoiisi y. Hut lln-y wcrc' liall" rmii- 
 islifd pritctically :ill tiic tiiiif. iiml my ('(in 
 HcieiH'o sniotc nic sin'oly as I noird tinir 
 (flai'iiiiT fycs and tiickt'd up Ntomai'hs, and 
 I't'jilizt'd that, my lliii'sl tor advrnMiif was 
 tlie CiiilMO of it all. We were fnitiinalt' 
 <>n()U(>[li to kill cai'ihoM and mii>k oxen at 
 intervals wliicli cnaljlcd us to yivt^ llm 
 tlojfs just a l)il<' soMU'tinu'M »!Vory day, 
 and at least every other day. u illi tlie ex- 
 ception of that thre(! (lay period. 
 
 When we killed caribou the doys were 
 fed on the spot, .and I he little meat remain 
 in<f was divideil amoni;- the sled^^es, to l)e 
 carried for tlietn atfainst the days wo were 
 Hot so lucky. We never were lucky 
 
 enoM;.r|| to kill hefoi'e tlii.s little NUpply 
 was cxhanstetl, Had we l»een, we, the 
 seven Indians and I. would have eaten 
 meat. .\s it w.is, \\*' ate the inleslines 
 and fat. and the do;^s ate the meat, he 
 caiiMi there was not nourishment enou;.;li 
 in the intestines for the (h)ys. |»efor«f we 
 left Resolution, I'eniah and I li.id a thor- 
 ou;:'h underslandin;:'!)!! this point. .Many 
 of the Indian expeilitions to the Harren.s 
 are crippled hy loss of doys from st;irva- 
 tion.and 1 knew the loss of our do;;'s meant 
 failure; so we (hcided if there w.is any 
 starving the nrculer part of it should fall 
 on US, re:ili/.iiiu- (tf coucse that if the worst 
 came wi> could eat the does, lieniah held 
 to his.'inreemeiit. and enforced comiilianct! 
 from the others, and to his w isdom in this 
 direction, in fact, is due miu'h of our suc- 
 cess in irettiny out of tlie liarrens. 
 
 ■JKAJL ■«,• 
 
 
 K'%'- 
 
 ya 
 
 T>vif.)-,«, tVfli^^c^ ^ 
 
 FEEDING THE DOGS. 
 
722 
 
 IIAKPEUS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 Wlieii it is reni<'inl)crc(l that tlic ordi- 
 nary meal for a dog- IrMiii — /. e., fcnir 
 do<:js, that are ti'avelliii<;- tiiirt.v or more 
 miles a day — consists of a caribou liiiid 
 and fore (luarter, tiiat we liad Iweiity- 
 eij^'Iit doys. and tiiat we never <^oL more 
 tliaii a cai'ihou or two at iiitei'vais of scv- 
 (M'al (lavs, iIk! reader may uiuierstaiid 
 why the (h)<;s were Hive wild animals, and 
 wliy we ale ih:' i'ltestiiies and grease and 
 saved them tiie meat. 
 
 Wlioii we killed musk-ox we lirst cut 
 off meat for a day or two's dog-feeding, 
 at d then turned the dogs loose on the 
 c;vrca:5se«, over which they worried and 
 .'.iiarleJ and fought the livelong liight. 
 "When tliere were no carcasses, they were 
 fed out of hand from the slender supply 
 on tlie sledge, and then they fought us, 
 raid worried the weaker among- tliemselves 
 into dividing the frozen chunks that were 
 to !sed to them. 
 
 Tliis dog-feeding was a trying experi- 
 ence. All tlie trains were fed at Uie 
 same time — when we camped at niglit — 
 and such a .scene cannot, be duplicated 
 an vwhci'e on earth. As we emerged from 
 the lodge with the tiny feed rolled up in 
 the skirt of our capote, tliere was a rush by 
 the dogs that pretty nearly carried us off 
 our feet, and frequently knocked down the 
 lodge. We always tried, but never with 
 success, to steal a march on the dogs and 
 get away from the lodge before the rush, 
 but the moment one of us showed his head 
 they gathered for the assault, and there 
 was nothing to do but to scramble out as 
 best we could, otherwise they would have 
 poured into the lodge and torn it and our 
 clothes to pieces in their crazy hung<>r. So 
 we would bolt out in a body, heads down, 
 and hugging the meat to our l)reasts with 
 one hanil. use, the whij) vigorously with 
 the other, while the dogs jumped into us 
 and on top of us in their fi-antic endea- 
 vors to tear away the little scrap of meat 
 w<> held. Gradually we would separate, 
 and each man attempt to gatlier his train 
 by lashing those that did not belong to 
 him. and calling by name tho.se that did. 
 
 AVhcn, after much fighting, each had 
 gathered his own, tin; actual ])rocess of 
 feeding began, and this again demanded 
 muc!i activity and some strategy to in- 
 sure every dog of yoin- train gftling its 
 portion. I iu>ver had tinu; to milicc^ how 
 the Indians did it, but my method was to 
 I'un each dog in turn a few yards from 
 the other three, quickly toss his meat to 
 
 him before the others caught np, and 
 then stand guard over him while he ate it. 
 
 The eating did not occupy much time 
 — there was only a growl, a grab, and a 
 gulp, and the meat was gone. 
 
 It was necessary to be expeditious, for 
 the dogs that had swallowed their meat 
 ran from group to group seeking those 
 that had not. and woe betide the pool* 
 beast thai attcmjited to masticate his mor- 
 sel ! Two of iny train, Flossie and Fiii- 
 iiette, were \v\'y timid, and gave me no 
 end of bother. It was only necessary for 
 another dog to start toward them, and 
 they would di-op their meat and run ott'. 
 I found it neces.saiw to hold them by the 
 scull" of the neck while they ate, and I 
 laid my whipstock over the heads of the 
 dogs that fought around me. 
 
 Feeding animals in the Zoo isn't a cir- 
 cumstance to feeding dogs in the Barrens. 
 
 As I have said, our three-caribou feast 
 of that morning — our third in the "Land 
 of Ijittle Sticks '" — was the last. I like to 
 dwell on it even nov,'. First the legs of 
 the caribou were cut off, stripped of their 
 sinews and llesh, and the bones cracked 
 ojien for iIk^ mari-ow ; then the heart and 
 kidneys and two unborn calves; then the 
 tongues and the eyes and the ears; and 
 all the while I'ibs were roasting, stuck 
 u))on slides about the lire, and a kettle 
 full of \vhat was left from the dog-feed 
 hung sus])<'nded from a tripod over all. I 
 conlined myself to the marrow and ribs, 
 and simply marvelled at the quantity 
 those Indians ate. When we started on 
 again there was not left a great deal of 
 the thi-ee cai'i!>ou to load on to the sledges, 
 but the Indians were in good humor. 
 
 About noon of that day. from tin* top of 
 a ridge, we saw. far in the distance, a lilack- 
 l)atch, so much larger than those we had 
 passed it seemed almost as though Ave 
 had got turn(>d al)out ami were travelling- 
 toward the timber's edge. But my com- 
 l)ass told me the direction was north, 
 and Beniah nuide me understand by signs 
 that this was the "last wood." It loonu'd 
 up almost like a forest; but when wa 
 reached it, late in the afternoon, it proved 
 to be not more extensive than about live 
 acres. But all things go by comparison, 
 aiul those five acres of .scattei'ing small 
 ])int^ wer(> as gi-atifying to us as though 
 they had made a Maine forest. Most of 
 the trees averaged from one to two inches 
 in diameter, though there were .some twice 
 as large, and I noticed a verv few that 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 9 
 
> 
 
 H 
 
 a 
 
 2 
 
 > 
 2 
 S 
 
 4. 
 
 a 
 
 f 
 
 { 
 
 :^,^M 
 
724 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 miglit have been fivo or six iiiclies. At 
 iuiy i-ate, it ail l)lazed warmly, and it 
 was pleasant after our experience in the 
 "Land of Little Sticks" to feel the heiit 
 of a lire once more. How deeply I was 
 to appreciate that lire a few weeks later! 
 Beniah sij,n>ed me next morning that 
 ■we should camp here one "sleep.'" to chop 
 wood to take aloiifj: with us, and to kill 
 caribou to cache here for our return, liut 
 in fact we remained at the "last wood" 
 two "sleeps," because the carii)ou were not 
 
 to be had easily, and 
 the stormy weather 
 developed intoabliz 
 zard that delayed 
 travel. The first day 
 served to g'ive me 
 an object-lesson as 
 to the dece])tion of 
 di-stances on the 
 Barrens. 
 
 All the Ind'ans 
 had hunted unsuc- 
 cessfully in the 
 morning' and re- 
 tui'iied to wood- 
 chopping in the af- 
 ternoon, and I de- 
 termined to venture 
 after caribou, as I 
 knew, with this 
 ))atch of timber vis- 
 ible from any ridge 
 within live miles or 
 so, I could not lose 
 myself. I had gone, I sui)pose, about six 
 miles when, by the aid of my field glasses, 
 I counted five cariixMi a couple of miles 
 away, at the edge of a lake, and noted that 
 a very strojig wind was blowing, and, to 
 ni}' good fortune, froi>i them to me. It 
 is dillicult to ajjproach game in this 
 country, notwithstanding its vales and 
 mounds, because tlie caribou are almost 
 invariably viewed iii'st on a lake oi" at its 
 edge, to which the undulations descend 
 in continuous long sweeps. But I made 
 a, careful stalk, crawling from rock to 
 rock and from snow-drift to snow-drift, 
 and finally reached a point beyond which 
 there was no hope of undiscovered ap- 
 proach. I judged I was about thre(> jiun- 
 dred yards from my quarry, aiul as they 
 were quietly grazing l)i'oadside to me, 
 conlidently counted on taking at least a 
 coui)le of tongues into camp. 
 
 I raised my sight to .'^00 yards; a quiclc, 
 steady aim, and I pulled trigger for the 
 
 medicike-mak's necklace. 
 
 first time on Barren Ground caribou. 
 But no caribou fell, nor was there ajiy 
 little putt' of snow to tell nie I had shot 
 over or under. Three times in rapid suc- 
 cession, but with careful sighting, I fired 
 at the same animal with the same results, 
 and before I could I'eload my half-maga- 
 zine the caribou weri^ oil' around a point. 
 That I was di.sgusted is hardly necessary 
 to say; that I was bitterly disappointed 
 those sportsmen Avho have lost their sup- 
 per by pool- marksmanship will know. 
 But my wonder at not having .scored on 
 such a big target — for all live were 
 bunched — was greater than my disgust 
 or disappointment. I walked over to 
 see if I had drawn blood, and I'eacbing 
 the jdace where the caribou had been 
 standing in what seemed an incredibly 
 ■short 300 yards, I i)aced back, and, to my 
 amazement, found the distance measured 
 just 1105 yards! I had, of course, shot far 
 over them. But I was thankful to have 
 made this discovery before reaching musk- 
 ox, even though it had cost us much 
 needed meat, and I vowed on the spot to 
 at once begin schooling my eye to the 
 illusions of the white desert. 
 
 I followed the caribou for a while, in 
 hoj)es of getting another chance, but they 
 had gone too far; and then, as I headed 
 for camp, I began my first 1' ^ons in Bai-- 
 ren Ground distance-gaugi' , by guessing 
 the yards to a stone and th .i pacing them 
 oiY. I was not only a,stoniehed at the dis- 
 cr<^pancy between my guess and the actual 
 distance, but oftentimes by the size of the 
 rock wlien I reached it. A stone which 
 looked as large as a cabin at four or five 
 hundred yai-ds would turn out to be about 
 as big as a bushel basket. Later, on the 
 one or two very clear cold days we had, 
 the illusion was reversed. Of course the 
 dithculties of determining distances on 
 the Bai'rens are exactly similar to those 
 that obtain on the ocean, where tiiere is 
 iiolhiug by which to gauge the range of 
 one's vision, nor any object on either side 
 for a comparative focus. I found much 
 diHiculty in overcoming the tendency to 
 exaggerate distance, though the Indians 
 apparently were not so troubled. 
 
 When I returned to camp that nij^hl 
 the Indians had iinished chopping the 
 supply of wood we were to take, and like- 
 wise during the day Iinished the rem- 
 nantsof the feast left from the day before, 
 so that again we were without meat. We 
 were to have left the "last wood" the 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 7U 
 
 next morning, but the tlier- 
 moineter i-pf^istercd 58° bolow, 
 tind ii blizzard of sucli .sevcrily 
 raged tliat the Indians would 
 not face it; so we lay in our 
 robes until aixml tiiree o'clock, 
 when tlie fury of the storm 
 lessened, and every l)ody turn- 
 ed out to hunt. When we 
 assembled again, four hours 
 liiter. there was a yearling for 
 the dogs, an unl)oi'n calf for 
 us, and a cow that had not 
 been brought in. 
 
 The temjitation to linger 
 here, where at least there was 
 a fire to warm our em])ty 
 stomachs, was considerable ; 
 but the morning of the third 
 day broke clear, thougli with 
 such a biting wind as almost 
 took our bi-eath away, and we 
 realized that the caribou were 
 leaving us, and tiiere was no 
 time to lose. So now we be- 
 gan our last preparations for 
 
 the plunge into the Barren Grounds prop- derness, wh<>re those that enter may leave 
 or. We calculated on getting back to this hope l)eliind,biit will stand a better chance 
 point in about twenty days, and wei'e of getting out if they lake it along with 
 taking th'it mjiiiy nights' supply of wood, them. 
 
 intending to push due north for from ten When we left the last wood, toiling 
 to twelve days. The wood we took from over the succession of i-ocky ridges that 
 the largest trees to be found in that patch, lay to the north, a curiously depress- 
 and was cut into blocks just the wadth of ing sensation possessed m»! ;is I viewed 
 a sledge— i.e., about fourteen inches— and the '"last wood" grow smaller and small- 
 then split into quarters, because we were er. Piece by piece its size diminished 
 to take no axe Every sledge was shod as the intervening elevations shut off 
 with extra runners to protect it from the the outlying i)atches. It seemed like bid- 
 rocks, and when l')aded with the wood, ding farewell to the last tie that connected 
 there v'as hardly riH)in for our sleeping- us witli the living world— and then at the 
 
 Caribou-Eater, 
 
 Vellow Knife. 
 
 Caribou- Euttir. 
 
 TYPKS OF NORTH-LAND INDIANS. 
 
 Kri»m a [■lii'tii;:r!ijill liy Mr. Whitin-y. 
 
 robes and moccasins and duifel. Then 
 we cached the cariboi: cow that had been 
 killed the day befoj-e, along with my re- 
 bellion-inciting balls of pemmican, the 
 
 next ridge it was gone, and not a green 
 thing relieved the awful ghastliness of 
 the whiteness that encirch'd us foi- miles 
 and miles. Wherever I looked — north, 
 
 ten pounds of floir, half of my remaining south, east, west — nothingshowed butthat 
 
 supply of tobacco, tea, and cartridges, and terrible stretch of silent grinning white. 
 
 O'ery article that was not absolutely ne- And the sun shone down on this desohilo 
 
 cessar}' to om* continued ))rogress. I scen(! and on me ;is ))lacidly as it shone 
 
 wrote also and left in the cache a brief upon the most blessed of God's world, if 
 
 account of our journey up to that time, with less warmth I 
 
 and of the course \\v. intended to ])ui-sue. There was no halting owce we had 
 
 Not far to the westward the Franklin clindjed the long reach of ridg<'s that led 
 
 l)arty, seventy-five years l)efore, had raised north from our camp and jjas.sed out of 
 
 a monument to their memory in the name siyht of the "last wood." It was ab.so- 
 
 of Fort Entei'prise, and though I had nei- lutely necessary for us to make good 
 
 tiiei" time nor tools, not even tin; wish, to time if our wood was to cjirry us as far 
 
 raise a fool's sign -board in warning to north as I wished to penetrate, and 1 was 
 
 others, I thought it as well to leave some much j)leased with Beniah for the i);ice he 
 
 remarks at the thi'esliold of that great wil- set. In fact, I Jiever ceased to he thank- 
 
im 
 
 HAllPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 ful that I had secured liiin, foi' not only 
 did we niaiiitiiin a <>'()()d <;ai( in tiie face 
 of tiie hardest goiiij^, but we Ivcpt travel- 
 ling i'T such storms as would have stoi)i)ed 
 any o+lier leailer. Beniah was a plucky 
 Indian, tlie j)Iucki('st in tlie country. 
 Tliat was why I made such an ell'oi't to 
 <^et him. 
 
 We must have ji^one close to forty miles 
 the first day, and at noon of the .second 
 caiTUi to a l)i<;- lake the Indians called, as 
 near as I can write it, Ecka-tua (which 
 nwans fat watei — lake), and I was able 
 for the lii'st time since leaving lieniah's 
 lodj^'e to about locate myself on tlie map. 
 Ecka-tna on th<^ map, as I knew, is I'oint 
 Lake, the source of Coppermine pjver; 
 and as I also knew it was 334 miles from 
 Fort Enterpi'ise to the mouth of the; Cop- 
 permine by canoe, via Ecka tua, 1 was 
 siu'e we would j^ta very close to the Ai'c- 
 tic Oce.in, travelling due north, at tlie rate 
 we had been g'oinj^. I had no sextant, 
 and relied for determimition of location 
 upon the detlection of my compass nee- 
 dle (which at this point was 35° east of 
 iu)i'th), and upon the number of miles we 
 made each day. The nund)er of degrees 
 of deflection I read at night, when it, did 
 not storm, by the north star, and the 
 number of miles per day is easily reck- 
 oned by every man who has had any 
 walking experience. Besides, I had a pe- 
 dometer. 
 
 Ecka-tna was full four miles wide at 
 our point of crossing. We ha'f no meat 
 to eat and no wood to spare ! ■ • mid-day 
 tea, so we pushed on, runr v- which 
 was rather trying on fare limited to an 
 occasional pipe and a mouthful of very 
 dry snow. We were kee])ing, of course, 
 a sharp lookout for caribou all this time, 
 and besides having scouts out on either 
 side, we halted on the toj) of every ridge 
 that was high enough to furnish a view, 
 where I .scanned the country on all 
 sides through my glasses, aiul we all 
 smoked another pipe and tried to suck 
 some moisture from the simw. There is 
 a dill'erence in eating snow and sucking 
 vhe moisture from it; neither is satisfac- 
 tory, but the former is harmful to the 
 traveller, and pvjtty cei-tain to be followed 
 by increased thirst and cramps. 
 
 Liite in the afternoon, from the top of 
 a ridge, we viewed a small licrd of eight 
 caril'OU on a lake below us, and I wit- 
 nessed the (irst practical demonstration of 
 the rea.son w'liv tlui Indians are such un- 
 
 succo^.sfui hungers On I he diixu^'i ly of 
 the Cii-'bnu tho dc^gs had been di-ivei; i';u k. 
 just Li 'Icr l!i(-. uruw cf the hi!!, where 
 they were U-Jt in clurv.e of half our num- 
 be)', viid the i st of !..-■ ])ropared for the 
 attempt to '^-et soir-e uiouL. The wind was 
 blowing from e;ist to west, and I was sur- 
 prised to see two of the Indians going off 
 to the east side of the cai'ibou. I circled 
 well to the west, though not too far away 
 to keep Beniah, who wis on my I'ight, in 
 sight. I had worked my way down to 
 the lake, and was making a good stalk, 
 with every chance o' getting within nice 
 range, when the shouting of the Indians 
 and yelping of the dogs attracted my at- 
 tention, and, lo and behold I coming down 
 the hill straight for the caribou, and in 
 plain view, were the dogs and the Indians, 
 Sf-me riding on the sledges, some running, 
 but all yelling and bearing down on the 
 caribou. Was ever a greater shock visit- 
 ed upon the nerves of a still-hunter! It 
 simply petrided me. I stopped and stnred 
 and rubbed my eyes to mnke sure that 
 those running, shouting Indians were ac- 
 tually the ones 1 had left a few moments, 
 before trembling in anticii)ation of meat 
 to eat. Of cour.se tlie caribou started to 
 run. They circled around the lak-e for 
 a time (showing when they trotted such 
 knee and hock action as would put the 
 hackney to shame), all the Indians and 
 the dogs chasiiig them meanwhile, and 
 finally turned off over the ridge, where 
 an Indian who had lingered behind was 
 lucky enough to kill one. 
 
 I was so di.sgusted at the disjday that I 
 sat down and pondered wlij"^ God in His 
 wisdom had made these men, whose very 
 existence depends on their hunting, so 
 wanting in skill and judgment. Had 
 it been less serious I should have been 
 amused by the spectacle of a snow-shoed 
 Indian chasing the fleetest quadruped on 
 earth. As it was, I could not suppress a 
 smile—in irony, perhaps. 
 
 And this is the North-land Indian's 
 method of hunting caribou. Sotnetimes 
 when hunting singly or in pairs they 
 make the nearest approach they know to 
 a stalk; ))ut the usual method, invarialle 
 when they are in a body, is to rush on to the 
 caribou, and trust for success lo their own 
 numbers and theconfusion of the animals. 
 If it were not that the Barren Ground 
 caribou or reindeer is a stupid sort of 
 creature, the Indians would score no often- 
 er than thev do on moose or the woodland 
 
 o 
 > 
 
 2 
 G 
 o 
 
 r! 
 
 a 
 
 H 
 
 
r; t'iK tv 
 where 
 
 n 
 > 
 
 t-i 
 
 u 
 o 
 
 r! 
 
 S 
 
 M 
 
 Q 
 H 
 
 ting', so 
 
 
 . Had 
 
 
 i-e been 
 
 
 wslioed 
 
 
 aped oil 
 
 
 )press a 
 
 1 ; 
 
 ndiaii's 
 
 ^1 
 i- 
 
 iietinios 
 rs they 
 
 
 enow to 
 
 Ir 
 
 t'ariiille 
 
 ! / 
 
 Ml to the 
 
 
 cii- own 
 
 
 Liiiiiials. 
 
 
 Ground 
 
 
 sort of 
 
 
 o of ten - 
 
 
 oodland 
 
 
 
 
 <' \ 
 
 'ai:. .,iiiia&..-j:; ..-J 
 
728 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 caribou. But the reiiuloor ujiiipars to prof- 
 it no inoro by expcii'Micc tliaii tlic Indians 
 tbeirLselves. In following;- a leader tbey 
 are very 'nucli like slieep, and I saw many 
 of tlieni killed by Indians \v]\o ran to a 
 point whore a liei-d was jjassinsr, and wliicli 
 continued to very nearly bold its coui-se 
 des))ite tlie jn'oxiniity of tlie enemy. Car- 
 ibou run in sinffie or double lile, and very 
 rarely bundled. It is in sumnu;r-time, 
 however, that the 15arren (Jround cari- 
 bou falls a victim to tlie ra[)acity of the 
 Indians. 
 
 Tlif-y are tlien moving in vast herds of 
 countless numbers, are easily ai)proaclu>d, 
 or turned in desired directions by tufts of 
 moss or rock set up in lin"s, aloufj: wbich 
 tiie Indians lie in ambusli, or driven into 
 lakes, where they are siauj^htered by the 
 hundreds. The waste in sinnmer of these 
 food-pi-oviding- animals of tiie North on 
 the lakes is almost incredible. Hundreds 
 are shot down Tnerely for their ton<rues, 
 and calves are killed for no other reason 
 than to jrratify tlie North-land Indian's 
 love of destruction. In winter the cari- 
 bou's eyesifjht is keener; theyare.se jarated 
 into small herds, and inlinitely in(>re dif- 
 ficult of approach. If, therefore, the Ind- 
 ians starve because of unskilled hunting', 
 it is only just retrii)ution foi' heir im- 
 providence and i-apacity. It was a bit 
 liard on me that I hapiiened at this par- 
 ticular time to be an innocent sutl'erer in 
 the result. 
 
 After tliis experience of caribou-hunt- 
 ing' I joined no more "chasing" parties; 
 I was having every day all the running 
 I could well attend to, and so thereafter 
 when we sighted reindeer I devoted iny- 
 self to stalking- those that liad been cut 
 off from the main body. But never in 
 all my life have I seen such wretched 
 n a,rksi.tan£hip as those Indians display- 
 ed. They not only miserably bungled 
 their app.i'oach to the caribou, but their 
 ii)discri''iii.iie firing' and the commotion 
 they ixiid tij-; dogs created made it about 
 impoasibie for me to g-et within ''ange. 
 
 Not the least trying of Barren Ground 
 huntinn^, too, is the bewilderinj? glare that 
 assails yonv eyes when you have i)ut up 
 your glasses, as you must so soon as 
 you start in pursuit of game. Even the 
 darkest of smoked goggles, and, what 
 are still better, those of native manufac- 
 ture, that are made of hone, with only a 
 T-sha])ed apertui>p before the eye, cannot 
 insure you against snow-blindness. There 
 
 wei-e very few bright days during our 
 wanderings in the Barrens, nevertheless 
 every man in the party but myself was 
 more or less severely snow-blind, one or 
 two so biidly as to necessitate their hold- 
 ing on to a sledge-line for guidance. 
 
 As I had in times past been very badly 
 snow- blinded, I look extraordinary pre- 
 cautions in the Barrens; for the thought 
 of getting up with musk-oxen and being 
 unable to sight my rilie was unendur- 
 able. So I drew the handkerchief that 
 was wound about my head in lieu of a 
 hat down to the tops of my goggles. This 
 kept the sun from shining down in my 
 eyes, while little pieces of black silk fitted 
 to the wire screening at the sides shut 
 out all light from that direction. I al- 
 ways walked behind mj sledge, and kept 
 my eyes on the tail of its moose -skin 
 wrapper. While my eyes pained me in- 
 cessantly, as much from the smoke of 
 the tiny fire in the lodge as from the 
 glare of the sun, I was never snow- 
 blind. 
 
 Referring again, before I go on with my 
 trip, to the handkerchief I wound about 
 my head after the Indian fashion, I may 
 say it served me better than all the other 
 head -gear I possessed. I had set much 
 store by a worsted hood knitted for me 
 in Canada, Avith a neck-piece that fitted 
 about the chin, and a draw-string by 
 which I could close it up to my eyes. 
 But I found it more harmful than bene- 
 ficial, for the reason that the freezing of 
 my breath transformed its entire front 
 into a sheet of ice, wliich it was impos- 
 sible to thaw by our wretched fire, and 
 served only to freeze my face more quick- 
 ly than exposure. For the same reason I 
 carried a small pair of scissors to keep 
 my beard and mustache clipped short. 
 So the worsted hood was discarded, and 
 the lumdkerchief held my hair, which 
 reached nearly to my shoulders, in place 
 over my ears, and permitted me to draw 
 the hood of my fur capote forward and 
 bind it snugly in place. Of course my 
 cheeks and nose and chin froze, but they 
 would have done so anyway, and I could 
 thaw them out by rubbing with snow — a 
 limbering process to which the worsted 
 hood was not susceptible. To be sure, the 
 method was rather hard on my face, 
 which by the time I returned to Beniah's 
 lodge was as blackened and cut up as an 
 alligator-skin; and it was hard on my 
 fingers too, which froze with about every 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 r2d 
 
 treatment of this sort, but tliiit was no 
 more tlian I expected. So long as my 
 feet did not freez(i to stop my jiroj^rcss. I 
 surt'ered all else without a murmur. I 
 was as careful of my feet as of iriy e^'os. 
 There was not much dan<;er of their 
 freeziii'i;' durin<,'' the almost continuous 
 runninj? of the daytime, and at ni<;lit 
 when we camped my first act was to put 
 on my unborn musk-ox skin slippers and 
 a pair of fresh diitl'el, which I carried in- 
 side my shirt, next my skin ; then I would 
 put on two more pair of duffel and a 
 ])air of moccasins, taken from my sledge. 
 Those I took off I put inside my sweater 
 and slept on them. In the morning I 
 again put my musk-ox-skin slippers and 
 one pair of duffel inside my shirt, whei-e 
 I carried them all day. 
 
 But then these are details — and prob- 
 ably uninteresting ones — and 1 must get 
 on to my first musk-ox hunt. 
 
 Two days more of hard running, in a 
 wind that seemed to come direct from the 
 north pole, brought us— we did not, know 
 where, but certainly once again to the 
 verge of starvation. Meat there was none, 
 and the little pieces of intestines and 
 grease were not calculated to keep one up 
 to such vigoi'ous work. There had been 
 no change in the country; indeed, the en- 
 tire stretch of Barren Ground, so far as I 
 saw, repeats over and again its few char- 
 acteristics. Probably as you go north it 
 becomes a little more rolling, if I may use 
 such a word, where its face is broken by 
 ridges of rock, I'ound backed and conical 
 hills, small lakes, long, slow-risir and 
 moderate elevations, all entirely u. on- 
 nected and separated from one another, 
 and yet the view from an especially 
 promijient elevation always reveals the 
 general prairie (rolling) contour of the 
 whole benighted country. And every- 
 where silence; no sign of life, no vegeta- 
 tion, sjive the black moss that is used for 
 fuel in summer by the Indians, and the 
 gray moss and lichens upon which the 
 musk-ox and caribou feed. 
 
 It was about three o'clock when we 
 dragged ourselves wearily to the top of 
 one of the many rocky ridges we had 
 been going up ami down all day, almost 
 d?eading to make the usual survey for the 
 g une we had looked for so often and in 
 vail during the last two days. Oiiequick, 
 eager glance, that turned to despair as 
 neither musk-ox nor caribou was to l)e 
 seen in any direction, and we sat down to 
 
 draw consolation and nourishment fron^ 
 our pipes. 
 
 Suddenly Iceen-eyed Beniali jumped to 
 his feet, and then on top of a rock, whei-e 
 he stood excitedly pointing to the north- 
 west, and tremulously repeating etlten. 
 ethen, as though to convince him.self that 
 his eyes were not ])Iaying him false. We 
 were all standing in a second, staring 
 into the horizon when^ Beniiih pointed; 
 but I could not discover anything, except 
 what seeMi(>d t() l)e a va])oi' coming up 
 out of the rocks four miles away, and 
 that I did not at once i-ecogiiize as the 
 mist Avhich arises from a herd of animals 
 when the mercury is ranging between 
 C0° and 70° below zero, and may be 
 seen live miles away on a clear day. A 
 long look through my field-glasses told 
 me the " rocks" w(>re nnimals of .some sort, 
 but not caribou; and as I handed the 
 glasses to Beniah I said, 'Eflicn, illa,"aud 
 motioned him to look. I think he w;is 
 nearly as nnich exercised by the powor 
 of the glasses as by the prospect of game; 
 at all events, so soon as he got them 
 ranged on the vai)or he set up a yell that 
 I interpreted to mean ejeri, and made a 
 rush .or his sledge. 
 
 Instantly there was excitement enough 
 on top of that ridge to ])ut life into eight 
 hungry men. I never beheld such agitii- 
 tion. The Indians for a minute huddled 
 together, chattering and grinning and ges- 
 ticulating, and then each man rushed to 
 his sledge and began slipping his dogs 
 from the harne.ss. I knew then we had 
 sighted musk-ox. Of course I 'lad suited 
 my action to the Indians, and began un- 
 hitching my dogs also, but my harness 
 came from the fort and had buckles, which 
 in the bitter cold were unyielding, and by 
 the time I had got all my dogs loose, put 
 on my lighter capote— for I saw we were 
 in for a long run — and strapped on my 
 cartridge-belt, all the Indians and all the 
 dogs had several hundred yards start, and 
 were going along at a I'attling pace. I 
 saw at once that it was every man for 
 himself on this ex[)edition, and if I got a 
 musk-ox I should have to work for him. 
 And then I settled grimly to the business 
 of running. Within about two miles I 
 had caught up with the Indians, who had 
 stretched out into a long column, with 
 Seco and Echeena leading by half a mile. 
 In another mile I had worked my way 
 through the stragglers, and was hard on 
 the heels of Echeena, but Seco Avas still 
 
,^ 
 
 ->rv<JjUL'*\';V"^' i'-^- 
 
 A 
 
 fl 
 
 ML'SK-OX AT BAY. 
 
ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 781 
 
 i 
 
 f-',: ■ 
 
 .' i 
 
 about two liuiulred yards ahead, and po- 
 iuff as th()uj,''li lio could kocp it uj) iiideli- 
 uitcly. Oil my atNMiipL to pass liiin Eclice- 
 na let out a link, and I had all I could 
 do to Ic<M']) at his heels, but in our race for 
 second place wo cut dowu Seco's lead by 
 a hundred yards. 
 
 xVll this time we had been runninfyover 
 a succession of sharp ridf^es. comijletely 
 covered with all shapes and sizes of rocks, 
 an<l set in snow lliat was soft and al)out 
 a foot and a half deep. With tripi)ini4' 
 shoes we of course sunk in the snow at 
 every step to within six inches of our 
 knees, wliilo our shoes januned in the 
 rocks that lay close tof,a'ther, or cauj^lit 
 on those we attempted to clear in our 
 stride. It was a species of hurdle-racing-, 
 with the softest of takeotV and laiuling 
 sides, and obstacles that wei-e not to be 
 knocked over. It was jroiufr that would 
 test the bottom of the well-fed, best-con- 
 ditioned athlete; how it wore on a half- 
 starved man may be ima<:;'ined. 
 
 It seemed as though we should never 
 view the musk-oxen. Ridge after ridge 
 we toiled over, and still that little cloud 
 of vapor ai)peared as far off as when first 
 sighted. Our positions remained vui- 
 changed — Seco leading with three dogs, 
 Echeena and I a hundred yards be- 
 hind, and half a mile back of us the re- 
 mainder of the Indians and dogs. At 
 such times as the deadly fatigue of i-un- 
 ning permitted coherent thought I won- 
 dered why Seco maintained such a pace, 
 for I supposed when tlie musk-oxen were 
 located he would of course delay his at- 
 tack until all the Indians and dogs had 
 come up; but I had seen enough of the 
 Indians not to take any chances; and so 
 I kept on, each step seeming the last I 
 could possibly make. 
 
 As we were working our way up a 
 rather higher and broader ridge I heard 
 the dogs bark, and rushing past Echeena, 
 reached the top in time to .see a hei-d of 
 about twenty- five to thirty musk-oxen, 
 just startled into moving along another 
 ridge about a quarter -mile beyond by 
 Seco, who with his three dogs was racing 
 after them not fifty yards ahead of me. 
 Disgust, disappointment, and piiysical dis- 
 tress momentarily stupefied me. Then 
 sight of the musk-oxen, thought of what 
 I had endured to reach them, fired me 
 to renewed action. I anathematized Seco 
 and all the North-land Indians for their 
 fool methods of hunting, and increased 
 
 Vol. XCir,— No. 551.— 81 
 
 my pace. The nuisk-oxen were now in 
 full I'un to the north along the top of the 
 ridge, gallo[)ing like caltl(\ with heads 
 curried well out, though not lowered, and 
 going at a pace and with an ease over the 
 rocks that surprised me. Their big bodies, 
 with the long hair hanging down to em- 
 ])hasize the sh(,rtness of legs, gave a curi- 
 ous a|)pearance to the Hying herd. 
 
 The wind was blowing a gale from the 
 south, and we had hardly reached the lop 
 of the ridge f)n which the musk-oxen had 
 been running when they disappeared over 
 the nortliern end of it. By the time I 
 reached the end of the ridge the main 
 herd was a mile awaj- to the north, and 
 still going, but four had .separated from 
 the band, and were runiung through some 
 hollows that bore almost diU3 east. I in- 
 stantly determ'.ned to follow these four— 
 because I saw I could get to the leeward 
 of them, and I felt they would event- 
 ually head north to rejoin the herd, 
 A caribou always circles up wind, but 
 musk-oxen travel in any direction that 
 necessity demands. Seco, with his dogs, 
 Avas just ahead of nu', keeping after tlie 
 main band, and Echeena I had lost sight 
 of. I knew that separation from the Ind- 
 ians might cost me my life, but musk-ox 
 was the fir.st and life the secondary consid- 
 eration at that nH)ment. And I started olf 
 at my fastest gait to the northeast, keep- 
 ing a ridge between the musk oxen and 
 nm, and knowing if they ci-ossed ahead to 
 the north I should come on their tracks. 
 
 I do not know how far I ran, or how 
 long I ran; 1 only remember that after 
 a time the rocks and the snow whirled 
 around me at such a ])ace I could not dis- 
 tinguish where one began and the other 
 ended; the great, dull, dead white surface 
 before me appearf 1 to i-ise and fall, and 
 when I tripped over a rock I seemed to 
 tumble a hundred feet, and take a hundred 
 years to regain my feet. Sometimes I had 
 to pull myself up on to my feet by the aid 
 of the very rock which perha]is had laid 
 me low. Once I lost my snow-shoe, and 
 though it was really not a yard away, 
 I started in a I'un after it — it seemed so 
 far off. Everything looked as though I 
 was peering tlirough the wrong end of my 
 field-glasses. As I ran, my eyes pained me 
 exquisitely, and I remember the horrible 
 possibility occurred to me of my right eye 
 (which is, in fact, much weaker than my 
 left) going snow-blind by the time I got 
 within shot of the musk-oxen. 
 
732 
 
 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 And ns T reached tlio bottom of each 
 ridfjo it st'f)ii'"d to rtin I could not sti-iijr- 
 H'l*! to the top, oven thouf,''h a tlioiisiind 
 musk-oxen awaited my coiniiify, I was 
 in a drippinj,'' pei'spiration, and had 
 dropped my cupole and cartridfje-belt, af- 
 ter thrustiuf,'' half a dozen oartridfjes into 
 my trousers i)ockets, and my nine-pound 
 45.!)() weijflied thirty. I hardly knew 
 whether I was ffoinpf up ridpfos or down 
 ridjjes. Everythinfj: waltzed about me. 
 I ran on and on in a sort of stui)or, until, 
 as I s'ot to the top of a little rid<?e, I saw 
 two inusk-oxfMi about a liundred yards 
 ahejul of and run nin^^ easily though direct- 
 ly from me. And then the blood surg'ed 
 through my veins, the mist cleared from 
 my eyes, and the rocks stopped whirling" 
 about me, for there, within range, was 
 my quarry. I swung my rifle into po- 
 sition aiul dropped on my knee for surer 
 aim. Heavens! my hand shook so the 
 front .sight travelled all over the horizon, 
 and my heart thumi)ed against my side 
 as though it would burst. 
 
 For a moment I rested to get my breath 
 — and the musk-oxen \vere still going from 
 me— and then —another attempt— the fore 
 sight for an instant held true — another 
 secotul's breathing — a quick aim — and I 
 pressed the trigger. What a feeling of 
 exultation as I saw my quarry stagger and 
 then drop! I was dizzy witli delight. I 
 gave vent to a yell, which, together with 
 the report of my rifle, .semi the other 
 musk ox into a wild gallop. It turned 
 sharply to the left and went over a ridge, 
 with me following on a run, all the while 
 endeavoring to throw another cartridge 
 into my ritle barrel. But the excessive 
 cold, aided by my excitement, handicapped 
 the mechanism, and the shell jammed. 
 
 By the time I had sent the cartridge 
 home, running meanwhile, I got over the 
 ric'ge, and was just drawing a bead on 
 the jalioping musk-ox, when two shots in 
 quick succession turned it staggering, and 
 as it dropi)ed I sent a bullet where it 
 would do tlfe most good — just as Echeena 
 and one dog came running down from a 
 ridge opposite. So that I and Echeena 
 had the honor of scoring the first and 
 secoiul musk-ox. Then I went back over 
 the ridge to look at the one I had brought 
 down. It was a cow. The sex was a 
 disappointment, to be sure, and I should 
 not take this head that had cost me so 
 much to secure; but nothing could dull 
 the joy of having, after a tramp of (about) 
 
 twelve hundred miles, killed the most in- 
 accessible beast in the whole wide world. 
 
 After 1 had made sure the musk-cow 
 was really dead, I started again and to 
 the north, hoping I might get on the (rack 
 of the other two or some other strag- 
 glers from the nuiin herd. Probably I 
 went several miles farther, buoj'ed up 
 by the excitement of my success, but saw 
 the tracks of no living thing. 
 
 The sun was setting as I turned 
 around to go back to my musk -cow, 
 where I supi)osed the Indians would 
 bring up sledges and camp, and I had 
 walked some time when I realized that, 
 other than going south, I had Jiot the 
 remotest idea in what precise direction I 
 was travelling, or just where that musk- 
 cow lay. I could not afford to waste 
 any time or lose myself, for I had no 
 ca])ote, and the wind I was now facing 
 had frozen my perspiration -.soaked shirts 
 as stilV and hai-d as boards. So I 
 turned about and puzzled out my always 
 half and sometimes wholly obliterated 
 snow-shoe tracks back to my fallen 
 quarry, where I arrived about Jiine 
 o'clock, to find, sure enough, the lodge 
 pitched and the Indians feasting on raw 
 and half-frozen musk-ox fat. 
 
 Gnawing a piece of this fat, and hardly 
 able to crawl with the cold and fatigue, 
 I followed back my tracks from here 
 until I found my capote and belt. It 
 was nearly midnight before Seco, badly 
 frozen, turned up to report the killing of 
 two musk-oxen, and we had tea (for the 
 little fire is never kindled until all are in, 
 because the tea would freeze in a very 
 few minutes after making). Several of 
 the men were snow-blind, and what Avilh 
 their groans, the fighting of the dogs over 
 the frozen tnusk-cow, mj' ice-coated shirts, 
 to thaw which there was not warmth 
 enough in my body, and a (i7° below zero 
 temperature, the night of our first musk- 
 ox killing was memorable. 
 
 I had now killed this most inaccessible 
 of all game, and therefore attained the 
 prime object of my trip to the Barren 
 Grounds. 
 
 We continued north anotlier week, 
 having other hunting adventures; and 
 when we finally tui-ncd southward, had 
 penetrated two daj's beyond the arctic 
 cii'cle. We made our way back on snow- 
 shoes to Great Slave Lake, where I left the 
 party, and by canoe pusiied on to the fron- 
 tier, reaching Edmonton June 12tb.