TcT* 
 
 5 %^< 18^-^ 
 
 w KLi i 
 
 D.D. 1 
 

 
 J 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 RE\. J. I.OI'THOUSI-; IN tlSKI.MO COSTUMK 
 
 hr,<iiltsf>ifcc
 
 A THOUSAND MILES 
 FROM A POST OFFICE 
 
 Or, TWENTY YEARS' LIFE AND TRAVEL 
 IN THE HUDSON'S BAY REGIONS 
 
 BY THE RIGHT REV. 
 
 J. LOFTHOUSE, D.D. 
 
 (late) bishop of keewatin 
 
 WITH A PREFACE BY THE 
 
 ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TORONTO 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA 
 
 AT ST. MARTINS HOUSE 
 1922
 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 I DO not envy the men who find this httle book 
 uninteresting. The simple facts, simply told, of 
 experiences such as these give to the dullest of us 
 food for thought. What we call civilization makes 
 life easy for us in the quiet round of home experience, 
 and it is wholesome as well as stimulating to be thus 
 reminded by a devoted servant of our Lord of the 
 struggles nobly made, year in and year out, by a 
 pioneer who is facing the hardships of the frozen 
 North. We thank God that we have such a one 
 among us to tell us thus simply of the kind of life 
 which the Christian Missionary in those regions has 
 to live " in journeyings often, in perils of waters, 
 in perils in the wilderness, in weariness and painful- 
 ness, in watchings often," and, very markedly, in 
 hunger and thirst and cold. No one can read the 
 book without feeling how the writer loved his life- 
 work for all its trials. It is because he thus loved 
 it that others were brought to love the Master whom 
 he serves so well. 
 
 RANDALL CANTUAR. 
 
 Lambeth Palace, 
 
 19 _////)', 1922. 
 
 Ill 
 
 1215173
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE START FOR HUDSON'S BAY - I 
 
 II. MY FIRST WINTER AMONGST THE ES- 
 KIMOS- - - - - II 
 
 III. A THREE-THOUSAND-MILE, TRIP CHIEFLY 
 
 BY CANOE - - - - 21 
 
 IV. A WINTER AT YORK FACTORY - "31 
 V. A GREAT AND TRYING DISAPPOINTMENT 39 
 
 VI. PATIENCE REWARDED AT LAST- - 47 
 
 VII. THE FOUNDING OF THE CHURCHILL 
 
 MISSION - - - - 55 
 
 VIII, OLD FORT PRINCE OF WALES AND 
 
 CHURCHILL TRADING POST - - 66 
 
 IX. FOUR HUNDRED MILES ON SNOW-SHOES 
 
 TO CONSULT A DOCTOR - "73 
 
 X. A SEVEN-THOUSAND-MILE JOURNEY TO 
 
 ENGLAND - - - - 80 
 
 XI. THE CHIPEWYAN INDIAN OF THE NORTH 89 
 
 XII. THE BUILDING OF A CHURCH IN THE 
 
 NORTH - - - - 95 
 
 XIII. SHETHNANEAI, OR " THE BIG HILL," 
 
 AND YORK FACTORY - - - loO 
 
 XIV. MARBLE ISLAND - - _ 107
 
 vi Contents 
 
 CHAITEK I'AGE 
 
 XV. THE POLAR BEAR OF THE NORTH - II4 
 
 XVI. TRAVELLING EXPERIENCES ON THE 
 
 SHORES OF HUDSON'S BAY - - 120 
 
 XVII. KAYAKING - _ _ _ 128 
 
 XVIII. VISITORS AT CHURCHILL - - I35 
 
 XIX. THE BISHOPS OF THE NORTH - - I4I 
 
 XX. A THOUSAND MILES ON SNOW-SHOES - I47 
 
 XXI. ACROSS THE NORTHERN BARREN LANDS 156 
 
 XXII. INFLUENCE OF MISSION WORK ON THE 
 
 INDIAN CHARACTER - - - 1 64 
 
 XXIII. A LONG AND TEDIOUS JOURNEY HOME TO 
 
 ENGLAND - - - . j^q 
 
 XXIV. ANOTHER VENTURE IN THE NORTH - 178
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 REV. J. LOFTHOUSE IN ESKIMO COSTUME Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 MAP OF HUDSON BAY TERRITORY - - I 
 
 ESKIMO SEAL-HUNTING - - - l6 
 
 ESKIMO SNOW IGLO - - - - l6 
 
 INDIAN SHACK - - - - - 26 
 
 NORWAY HOUSE TRADING POST - - 26 
 
 HUDSON'S BAY TRADING POST - - 4O 
 
 ESKIMOS IN KAYAKS- - - - 128 
 
 SPLIT LAKE TRADING POST AND MISSION - I47 
 
 REV. J. LOFTHOUSE HAULING SLEDGE - I52 
 
 ESKIMO DOGS AND SLEDGE - - - 152 
 
 REV. J. LOFTHOUSE IN SUMMER SLEEPING-BAG 162 
 
 vu
 
 O'
 
 6 
 
 A THOUSAND MILES FROM 
 A POST OFFICE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE START FOR HUDSON'S BAY 
 (1882) 
 
 In the year 1882 a party of missionaries was 
 organized by the Church Missionary Society, under 
 the charge of the Rev. James Hannington, after- 
 wards first Bishop of Equatorial Africa, vohmteers 
 being asked for from the students of the Church 
 Missionary College. Amongst others, my name was 
 sent in together with that of a dear friend and 
 fellow-student, but neither of us was accepted, and 
 we were prevented from laying down our lives for 
 Africa, as most of that party afterwards did, though 
 my fellow-student died in South Africa after working 
 for some years as a missionary in China. 
 
 Very much to my surprise, a few weeks later, I 
 was asked by the Committee of the Society to go to 
 a very different part of the world and join Bishop 
 Horden, the first Bishop of Moosonee in Hudson's 
 Bay, with the object of establishing a Mission 
 amongst the Eskimos on the north-western shores 
 
 I A
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 of that vast inland sea, so well called the " Mediter- 
 ranean of Canada," 
 
 The word Bay can easily be seen to be somewhat 
 of a misnomer when it is once realized that you could 
 put the whole of the British Isles into the " Bay " 
 and then sail right round them without sighting 
 land anywhere. Hudson's Bay is nearly sixteen 
 hundred miles long and over six hundred miles 
 broad at its widest part. 
 
 My own knowledge of the Bay, or for that matter 
 of Canada itself, was at that time of the vaguest — 
 the average Englishman's hazy idea of the Colonies — 
 but I most willingly accepted the offer, and in a few 
 weeks had completed all preparations for the long 
 and trying journey to a strange and unknown 
 country. 
 
 At that time there was practically only one way 
 of reaching the Bay and that was by the annual 
 ship of the Hudson's Bay Company, which visited 
 the trading posts and mission stations, taking in 
 supplies and bringing back the lovely and valuable 
 furs caught the previous winter by the Indians, 
 for there is no fur-hunting done in the summer. 
 
 We sailed from London in June in the schooner 
 Prince of Wales, a good stout sailing vessel of some 
 five hundred tons, with a crew of twenty all told. 
 It would hardly bear comparison either as regards 
 comfort or accommodation with an ocean liner or 
 with some of the vessels now running into the Bay, 
 but this did not trouble me much at the time. 
 
 2
 
 The Start for Hudson's Bay 
 
 Captain Bishop, an old and tried servant of the 
 Hudson's Bay Company, was in charge. He was a 
 typical sea dog of those days. No man living was 
 his superior in the art of ice navigation. He had 
 been through Hudson's Strait and Bay dozens of 
 times and had always come through unscathed. 
 
 To leave home for the first time for an unknown 
 country is not one of the easiest things, but it is a 
 comfort in this, as in other things, to have a 
 companion in tribulation, and a fellow-missionar}/, 
 the Rev. H. Nevitt, was going out to work amongst 
 the Indians at Moose Factory. 
 
 We dropped gently down the Thames in bright 
 fine weather, but alas ! it did not last long, for hardly 
 had the pilot left us before we were struck by a 
 very severe gale, and both Nevitt and I soon found 
 out what it was to be at sea for the first time. For 
 ten days we were tossed about like a cork, driven 
 backwards and forwards, but making little headway. 
 What a time it was ! Driven right along the coast 
 of Norway, we had several very narrow escapes, but 
 at last made our way through the Pentland Firth and 
 came safely to anchor in the beautiful land-locked 
 inner harbour of Stromness in the Orkney Isles. 
 
 Both of us were very glad to get ashore. After 
 a day or two of squeamishness I got my sea legs 
 and also a sea appetite, but my poor friend remained 
 in his berth all the time with little or no desire for 
 the greasy soup and salt junk which formed our 
 staple food. 
 
 3
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 A ten days' sojourn in tlie Orkneys gave us some 
 idea of the life and customs of the people, who were 
 most kind and hospitable. We wandered all over 
 the island, and visited the quaint old cathedral and 
 palace of Kirkwall. 
 
 Meanwhile our ship was taking in supplies for her 
 long journey across the Northern Atlantic, but had 
 to wait some days for her consort or sister ship going 
 to York Factory on the western side of the Bay. 
 
 Leaving Stromness on the ist of July, we passed 
 through the Hoy Sound with the " Old Man of Hoy " 
 towering on our left, and soon found ourselves in 
 the long rolling swell of the Northern Atlantic, but 
 now we were able fully to enjoy the life at sea — 
 soup and all. 
 
 After passing Cape Farewell, the southern point 
 of Greenland, we reached Hudson's Strait. Here 
 we got our first sight of ice — in fact, nothing but ice 
 was in sight, Tlicre were almost numberless ice- 
 bergs, every one of which seemed to dwarf the 
 topmast of our ship, making the masts look like 
 ' ' little sticks. ' * No ordinary ocean-going vessel could 
 possibly have withstood the continual grinding and 
 crushing. A matchbox under the foot of a man 
 would have as much chance of resisting the mighty 
 pressure. But the Prince of Wales was doubly 
 sheathed with the stoutest oak, and thrust her way 
 into the ice with little or no fear of being crushed. 
 
 For three weeks we were fast in the ice; being 
 dependent on the wind, we were only able to use any 
 
 4
 
 The Start for Hudson's Bay 
 
 little " lead " that might open out. We were truly 
 thankful when at last, by a good deal of tacking and 
 beating about, we were able to make our way 
 through the Strait. After reaching the Bay an 
 incident happened which might have been very 
 serious but for the careful watchfulness of our 
 captain. Running along under a steady, stiff breeze, 
 we sighted an immense berg some distance off but 
 bearing steadily down upon us. The captain was 
 below, the chief mate on deck. He seemed quite 
 sure we would weather the berg, and kept steadily 
 on his course whilst we stood gazing upon its vast 
 proportions. When the captain quietly walked on 
 deck, he looked round, saw the berg, and in a 
 thundering voice cried, " 'Bout ship." Most of the 
 sailors were below, it being the dog watch, but in a 
 moment they all came tumbling up, many of them 
 in very undress uniform, and hauling with a ready 
 will they got the ship round and we stood away 
 from the dangerous suction which might very easily 
 have drawn us right on to the berg. The mate 
 thought the " old man " had made a mistake. It 
 may have been so, but I could not help feeling that 
 it was wiser to be safe than sorry. 
 
 The voyage down the Bay was void of any incident 
 beyond seeing a whale or two and a large number 
 of porpoise, or white whales. About the middle of 
 August we came in sight of a beacon at the mouth 
 of the Moose River, and soon after picked up the 
 land which was to be my home for so many years. 
 
 5
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Moose Fort, or Factory as it is often called, was 
 then, and is still, the chief trading post of the southern 
 part of Hudson's Bay. It stands on an island in 
 the Moose River, and is some fifteen miles from the 
 sea. It is a lovely spot and very attractive, or at 
 least appeared so to us in the month of August 
 after a long and tedious voyage of two months. 
 It is a very different place in the long cold winter. 
 
 Here, thirty-one years before our arrival, John 
 Horden, an Exeter man, had begun his noble work 
 amongst the Cree Indians. He laboured amongst 
 them until, ten years later, he laid down his life in 
 their midst, stoutly refusing to give up his work 
 and retire to England. 
 
 We were met and given a most hearty welcome 
 by the Ven. Archdeacon Vincent, then in charge 
 of the Mission (Bishop Horden, who was travelling 
 from England by way of Canada, not having yet 
 reached Moose), and by the Rev. E. J. Peck, the first 
 missionary of the Church of England to the Eskimos 
 of Hudson's Bay. Mr. Peck had travelled 500 miles 
 in a very small boat in order to meet me, as I was 
 to get my first insight into Eskimo life and work 
 under him at Little Whale River on the eastern side 
 of the Bay. 
 
 The distance between Moose Fort and this mission 
 station is about five hundred miles around the shores 
 of the Bay; this was to be covered in a small birch- 
 bark canoe with a full month's provision, bedding, 
 etc., for ourselves, three men, and a boy. I very soon 
 
 6
 
 The Start for Hudson's Bay 
 
 discovered that missionaries in Hudson's Bay did 
 not hamper themselves with an over-abundant 
 supply of either luggage or food. Our outfit con- 
 sisted of a blanket for each person, flour, fat bacon, 
 tea, and sugar. 
 
 Our troubles began before we had gone 5 miles. 
 The canoe was old and leaky, and soon I found 
 myself sitting in some inches of water, so we landed 
 for the night in order to patch her up. The prospect 
 of travelling over 500 miles along a rough sea-coast 
 during the month of September, with winter 
 already coming on, in such a craft was by no 
 means reassuring to a " tenderfoot," but there was 
 no other way out, so we resolved to push on and 
 take our chance. Next day we made our way 
 down to the mouth of the river, where the Prince 
 of Wales was at anchor. 
 
 At night we landed on a mud-flat, inhabited solely 
 by mosquitoes. It was my first introduction to 
 these pests of the north, but they at once waived 
 all rules of etiquette and welcomed me with most 
 enthusiastic affection. They invaded our tent, 
 entirely against our strongly expressed wishes; do 
 what we would there was no keeping them out. 
 Covering ourselves with a blanket, we tried to sleep, 
 but this was impossible, at least for me, and we all 
 welcomed the dawn gladly, although it meant 
 wading knee-deep in mud for nearly half a mile to 
 get our canoe afloat. But, oh, the relief of getting 
 away ! 
 
 7
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Crossing Hannah and Rupert's Bay, at the end 
 of six days of what was anything but a picnic, we 
 reached East Main River, another trading post 
 of the Hudson's Bay Company, As usual we met 
 with a hearty welcome from the man in charge, a 
 quaint old Scotsman, living in very primitive state. 
 On one occasion, being asked why he kept all the 
 windows of his house tightly closed in summer, 
 he replied, " Aye, mon, but if ye lived here i' 
 winter, ye wadna want any windows open at a'." 
 
 After another eight days' travel, with constant 
 gales, thunderstorms, rain and sleet, we reached 
 Fort George, or Big River, another trading post. 
 It was a treat to get into a decent house again, where 
 one could wash, sit down to a table for meals, and 
 sleep in a comfortable bed. One gets accustomed 
 to sleeping on the ground in all sorts of places, but 
 a bed is always a welcome thing to anyone but an 
 Indian. 
 
 Fort George is often spoken of as the Paradise 
 of James Bay, and it is indeed such, compared to 
 many other places on the Bay. Vegetables can be 
 raised, and wild berries of all kinds grow well. The 
 gentleman in charge let us have another canoe, 
 which was at least watertight, and after two days' 
 rest we started again on our j ourney . We met with 
 very stormy weather, and it was now getting bitterly 
 cold. It took us nearly a fortnight to reach the next 
 trading post. Great Whale River, and just as we were 
 getting into the mouth of the river we came very 
 
 8
 
 The Start for Hudson's Bay 
 
 near ending our trip at the bottom, being caught in 
 a gale which carried away our mast and sail, and 
 but for the skill of our steersman we would have been 
 upset with no chance whatever of getting ashore, 
 for the water was icy cold. However, we came 
 safely through and spent two pleasant days at the 
 post. 
 
 I cannot speak too highly of the great kindness 
 and generous hospitality of all the Hudson's Bay 
 ofhcers. They were always willing to do everything 
 in their power to help us. After two days' rest, we 
 started again on the last lap of our long journey — 
 about sixty miles. 
 
 The first day we made good progress, running along 
 a " sound " protected from the open sea, but after 
 passing this we were again exposed to a severe gale, 
 and at last were driven ashore, but fortunately 
 managed to scramble out and save all our goods. 
 
 Being only 15 miles from Little Whale River, 
 Mr. Peck proposed that next day we should walk in, 
 leaving the men to bring on the canoe when the 
 gale went down. I had always been considered a 
 good walker, and thought that 15 miles would be 
 nothing, but that journey is present to my mind 
 even now. 
 
 To walk on a good hard road is not much prepara- 
 tion for the kind of walking we had to face. There 
 was not even a trail, but we had to make our way 
 through bush, over rocks, and wade through creeks 
 up to the middle in icy cold water. We were ten 
 
 9
 
 A ThoLisand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 hours in making that 15 miles, and once in cross- 
 ing a large creek I simply dropped in up to the neck, 
 but managed to scramble out on the other side. 
 
 The cold and this wetting gave me cramp so badly 
 that I could hardly get on at all, but all things come 
 to those who wait, or walk as in our case, and 
 at last, footsore and weary, we arrived, and thus 
 ended my first long journey in Hudson's Bay. At 
 the time it seemed to me hard training, but in 
 after years I looked back upon it as one of the least 
 trying of my northern trips. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MY FIRST WINTER AMONGST THE ESKIMOS 
 (1882-1883) 
 
 Little Whale River on the east side of Hudson's 
 Bay is one of the dreariest places that can possibly 
 be imagined, especially in winter. The trading post 
 stands on a plateau of sand about a mile from the 
 open sea; behind it rises a ridge of rocks about one 
 hundred and fifty feet high; before it lies the river, 
 about half a mile wide, with a very swift current. 
 
 There is no timber in the neighbourhood, only 
 a few stunted pine-trees. The absence of vegetation 
 is due to the extreme severity of the winter. Owing 
 to its close proximity to the Bay, the place is exposed 
 to the full sweep of the gales, which in winter are 
 almost continuous. 
 
 At the time of my visit, in 1882, the post consisted 
 of the " master's " house — a large building of two 
 stories — a trading shop, men's house, and one or two 
 sod shacks belonging to the Eskimos. There was 
 also a small iron church, imported from England 
 by Mr. Peck, in which we met regularly for service 
 in Eskimo and English. Though life in such a place 
 during the winter is generally very dreary and 
 trying, I did not find it so, owing doubtless to the 
 
 II
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 novelty of the surroundings, and also to the fact 
 that I spent a very large part of my time with the 
 Eskimos, who are wonderfully bright and cheery 
 companions, my aim being to study the people and 
 their language. 
 
 We took up our abode with Mr. Gillies the trader, 
 and, being three bachelors, without cook or servant, 
 we arranged to take a week each in providing meals. 
 We also did our own housework, with the exception 
 of washing the floors. Mr. Peck was a most excellent 
 cook, and I have never met anyone who was a better 
 breadmaker, though it was often a difficult matter 
 to keep it warm when making, but he never followed 
 the plan I have known adopted by settlers of the 
 west of taking the dough to bed with him. 
 
 There were some two hundred Eskimos connected 
 with the post at the time, but these have since been 
 greatly reduced. Most of them had left for their 
 hunting before we arrived, and there was only one. 
 Old Melucto, and his family left. Old Melucto was 
 a man of exceptionally fine character. Though very 
 aged and infirm, he had learned to read Eskimo 
 in syllabic characters, and nearly every day one 
 might see him poring over his books, his face 
 beaming as he read the good news of the Gospel. 
 
 If ever a man really and truly loved the Lord 
 Jesus, that man was Old Melucto. Every night we 
 had prayers in his sod shack by the light of a small 
 blubber lamp, and it was a joy to see how the old 
 man entered into these services. 
 
 12
 
 My First Winter amongst the Eskimos 
 
 Wc were dependent to a very large extent upon 
 onr guns for animal food, and almost every day 
 Peck and I, after several hours' hard grind at Eskimo, 
 would start out after ptarmigan, which fortunately 
 for us were very plentiful that year. It was seldom 
 we returned without sufficient for next day's dinner. 
 Once during these hunts I had a very narrow escape : 
 Peck's gun caught in some branches, and the whole 
 charge of shot passed within a few inches of my head ; 
 however, a miss is as good as a mile, and I escaped 
 to tell the tale. 
 
 At short intervals we had to hitch up our Eskimo 
 dogs — our only animals — and go off for firewood, 
 for when the winter really set in, it required a 
 large amount of wood to keep the fires alight night 
 and day. The winds and gales came in from the 
 Bay in icy blasts, and there were many days when 
 it was impossible to venture out at all, even when 
 clad in Eskimo deerskin clothing. 
 
 At Christmas-time quite a number of the Eskimos 
 came in, and we resolved to make it a real time of 
 rejoicing for them. With this end in view we gave 
 them a feast. Not having much animal food at the 
 time we decided to make a " Cossack pudding." 
 This is simply a pudding made with large lumps of 
 fat pork instead of suet. We boiled it in a ten- 
 gallon kettle, and it required our united strength 
 to get it out, for it was solid, but the Eskimos enjoyed 
 it immensely, especially the large pieces of fat, which 
 they regarded as titbits. 
 
 13
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 When Mr. Peck came to Whale River, he en- 
 deavoured to institute a reform along the lines of 
 a well-known proverb. He conceived the heroic 
 project of inducing the Eskimos to wash, a thing 
 they had never thought of doing in their lives. With 
 this end in view, he gathered some of the men in 
 his own little room, initiated them into the mysteries 
 of the art, and then left them alone for a while. On 
 his return he was unable to discover a single " shin- 
 ing face" among them, yet, strange to say, scarcely 
 a vestige of the large piece of soap remained. By 
 dint of cross-examination he found out that this had 
 been divided amongst them and eaten ! 
 
 After our feast, as it was a fine day, wc all turned 
 out to play football. The Eskimos are very fond 
 of all kinds of games, and make good athletes. 
 Women with babies on their backs also joined freely 
 in the game. I was at first very much afraid to 
 see them constantly rolled over in the snow, but they 
 went at it again as if nothing had happened. They 
 are all good runners, and with the greatest glee and 
 good humour rolled one another over in the snow, 
 reminding me of polar bears at play. 
 
 After Christmas Mr. Peck was most anxious that 
 I should visit the Eskimos in their winter quarters, 
 though I cannot say that I was quite as eager. 
 However, as a party of them was staying out on a 
 reef some fifteen or twenty miles out to sea, I decided 
 to go and spend some days with them at their 
 snow village. 
 
 14
 
 My First Winter amongst the Eskimos 
 
 In the middle of February, on a very cold but clear 
 day, with the thermometer nearly forty below zero, 
 we started in the early morning with a team of six 
 splendid husky dogs. 
 
 Some practice is required in order to master the 
 art of driving Eskimo dogs, which are unlike Indian 
 dogs, for every dog is hitched on a separate line, 
 varying in length from ten to thirty feet. The dogs 
 are born fighters, and constantly become mixed up 
 in free fights. On these occasions it requires a 
 very free use of the Eskimo whip in order to part 
 them, and if the driver is not expert the long heavy 
 whip-lash will most likely come round his own head 
 instead of round one of the dogs. They also fre- 
 quently become tangled up — that is, their traces 
 become crossed — and a halt of ten minutes out on 
 the frozen sea is necessary in order to extricate 
 them and start again. 
 
 The ice at the mouth of the river was piled up in 
 large masses, and caused us a great deal of trouble 
 in getting over, but once out on the smooth ice of 
 the sea, we made very good progress, and reached 
 the snow village soon after midday. It consisted 
 of six snow-houses with two or three families in most 
 of them. I found one house with but one family, 
 and with them took up my abode. 
 
 One's first attempt in living in a snow-house is an 
 experience attended with no small degree of discom- 
 fort and repulsion. The house is round, made of 
 large blocks of snow cut out of a snow-bank. Inside 
 
 15
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 it is about twelve feet in diameter. About half of it 
 is raised some two feet, forming a sort of dais; this 
 is used as a hving and sleeping place, being covered 
 over with plaited willows or long dry grass. On 
 this are laid the deerskin robes or sleeping-bags 
 which form your bed. 
 
 The Eskimos when retiring for the night creep 
 into these robes, slip off their garments, putting 
 them outside to freeze, so that in the morning you 
 can shake them and they are quite dry. The 
 temperature is, of course, always below freezing- 
 point ; there is no fire, but a small, smelly, blubber 
 lamp gives a dim religious light. The ventilation 
 is nil or only such as you get from the small doorway, 
 and at times the atmosphere becomes almost un- 
 bearable. I shall never forget the first night. I 
 could hardly breathe. Being nearly suffocated, I at 
 last arose and crept outside, but as it was blowing 
 a regular blizzard, and the thermometer was nearly 
 fifty below zero, I speedily came to the conclusion 
 that it was better to suffocate than to freeze to death, 
 so crept back into the iglo, and used the body of my 
 Eskimo companion as a foot-warmer. 
 
 The absence of fire in their houses deprives the 
 Eskimos of external heat, consequently they depend 
 almost entirely upon the amount of fat or blubber 
 they consume. As a result of this their bodies, if 
 they are in good condition and have plenty of food, 
 are often as hot as a glowing fire, so that there is no 
 difficulty in keeping warm if only you have an Eskimo 
 
 i6
 
 RSKIMO SEAT, HUNTlNd 
 
 ^ 
 
 .**••■ 
 
 p. i6 
 
 ESKIMO SNCiW IGI.O 
 
 ^W-J 

 
 My First Winter amongst the Eskimos 
 
 as a companion. I lived amongst tliom ten days, 
 teaching the children during the day and holding 
 services in the evening, when the men returned home. 
 One day, during my stay, we had a fearful blizzard ; 
 as we were right out on the frozen sea, there was, of 
 course, no shelter, and for the greater part of the day 
 we could not see a dozen yards away from the igloes. 
 
 Upon our return we met with one or two rather 
 exciting experiences. We were running along the 
 smooth ice at a good pace when we came quite 
 suddenly upon a large crack some six feet wide; 
 the dogs just managed to pull up on to the edge 
 of it, and we prevented the sledge going into the 
 sea by simply turning it over on its side. Had we 
 gone into the water we must, without doubt, have 
 been either drowned or frozen to death, for even if 
 we had managed to get out there was no chance of 
 making a fire for some hours, and with the thermo- 
 meter at forty below zero we must have frozen to 
 death. 
 
 When we reached the mouth of the river we found 
 the ice rougher than ever, and were compelled to 
 climb over ridges fully twenty feet high. Once, 
 when we had got to the top of one of these hummocks 
 of ice, the dogs bolted. An Eskimo woman and her 
 baby were sitting on the sledge at the time, and 
 dogs, sledge, woman and baby landed in a heap at 
 the bottom, I felt sure one or both would be killed, 
 but they escaped without a scratch. Within half 
 an hour of this we were safely back at the post. 
 
 17 B
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 My stay at Little Whale River now began to draw 
 to a close. On the whole, I had spent a very happy 
 time there, and had succeeded in getting some 
 knowledge of the language and a very good idea 
 of the people. About the middle of April, when the 
 days were getting longer, though the winter was by 
 no means over, I started on my return journey to 
 Moose Factory, where I had promised to be early 
 in June. Mr. Peck and two Eskimos, with a team 
 of dogs, were to accompany me as far as Fort George, 
 During the day the sun was very hot, but in the late 
 afternoons and evenings the wind was bitterly cold, 
 and as a result our faces were blistered and very 
 sore. 
 
 The first night was spent in an Eskimo tent, their 
 snow-houses having now become useless. The second 
 night we reached Great Whale River, and as it was 
 Sunday next day, we stayed over to have service 
 with the people, the first since the previous October. 
 On Monday morning we resumed our journey, 
 but a heavy fall of snow having taken place made 
 travelling very bad, and continuous hard labour 
 was needed to get dogs and sledge through at all. 
 
 We crossed Cape Jones, which divides Hudson's 
 Bay from James's Bay, one of the bleakest and most 
 dreary spots along the coast. That night we 
 were compelled to camp under one small solitary 
 tree, and had great difficulty in finding sufficient 
 firewood to boil our tea-kettle; in truth it was a 
 miserable night. Sunday we spent in a snow-storm 
 
 i8
 
 My First Winter amongst the Eskimos 
 
 on a bleak and barren island. It would have been 
 much more pleasant to travel than to halt as we did, 
 but we always refused to travel on Sundays unless 
 it was absolutely necessary. 
 
 After eight days' very heavy travelling we reached 
 Fort George, and I was very glad to find myself at 
 the end of the first stage of my return journey. 
 
 Although it was now the middle of May, the ice 
 in the river and along the coast was still as firm as a 
 rock, and, being most desirous of pushing on, I bade 
 farewell to Mr. Peck (whom I did not see again 
 for over twenty years, although working in the same 
 diocese all the time), and set out on the ice for 
 East Main post. I arrived there without any strik- 
 ing incident, and again accepted the hospitality 
 of my old friend of the closed windows. The ice 
 was now becoming thin and dangerous, and I was 
 forced to abandon travelling by dogs and sledge, 
 having come some three hundred and fifty miles 
 on my way. 
 
 A whole month was spent in the pleasant society 
 of my Scottish friend before the opening up of the 
 coast enabled me to start for Moose Factory. During 
 
 my stay at East Main Mr. C invited me to go 
 
 on a bear hunt with his two sons. Accordingly 
 we started one fine day in June. In order to do 
 honour to the missionary the old gentleman had 
 placed a small box in the bottom of the canoe, 
 covering it over with a flag. Unfortunately I 
 neglected to examine this seat, which seemed to go 
 
 19
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post OfHce 
 
 right across the canoe. We had not gone more 
 than a quarter of a mile when I somehow sHpped off 
 the box, and the three of us were thrown out into 
 the greatly swollen and rapid river, and though by 
 clinging to the canoe we managed to get ashore, all 
 our provisions were lost. Thus our bear hunt came 
 to an untimely end. A few days later we made 
 another attempt, but returned without even the sight 
 of a bear. 
 
 As soon as the ice cleared off the coast, Mr. C 
 
 procured a canoe and two Indians for me, and we 
 began the final stage of my long journey. 
 
 Whilst crossing Rupert's Bay, a stretch of 12 miles, 
 we were caught in a heavy gale, and for a time were 
 in considerable danger, but finally reached the 
 shore with our canoe half-full of water and every- 
 thing soaked. We were obliged to camp for several 
 days until the gale was over. By pressing on as 
 hard as we could we managed to reach Moose by 
 the end of June, instead of at the beginning, as I had 
 promised. 
 
 The journey from Little Whale River to Moose 
 Fort, a distance of 500 miles, had taken more than 
 two months. 
 
 20
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A THREE-THOUSAND-MILE TRIP, CHIEFLY BY CANOE 
 
 (1883) 
 
 Upon my arrival at Moose I was sorry to find that 
 Bishop Hordeii had been prevented from visiting 
 Rupert's House by my late arrival, but this could 
 not be avoided, as the coast was so late in breaking 
 up that year. The Rev. H. Nevitt had to take the 
 Bishop's place, and we had passed each other 
 somewhere in Hannah Bay, but had not seen him. 
 I was sorry to miss him. 
 
 After spending a fortnight at Moose, during which 
 time I was ordained both deacon and priest, I 
 prepared for another long journey to York Factory, 
 on the western side of the Bay. The distance 
 between the two places is only about eight hundred 
 miles in a direct line, but there was no means of 
 travelling up the western shore of the Bay except 
 by canoe, and this is much too dangerous, since 
 the land is all low-lying and swampy along those 
 shores, with no islands to give one shelter from the 
 sea. I was therefore obliged to make my way 
 into the interior, travel through a large part of 
 Canada, and then come down to the coast again; 
 this meant a j ourney of nearly three thousand miles, 
 
 21
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 and it took me two and a half months to reach my 
 destination, though in a steamer, or even with a 
 saihng vessel, the distance could have been covered 
 in three or four days. 
 
 A small birchbark canoe, manned by three men, 
 conveyed me up the Missinabie branch of the Moose 
 River. A large number of portages were necessary 
 at places where the rapids and falls were too formid- 
 able for tracking or poling, but we got through 
 without any great difficulty or mishap. On our 
 fourteenth day from Moose we reached Brunswick 
 House, a few miles from the present station of 
 Missinabie on the Canadian Pacific Railway. Here 
 I had my first and only trouble with Indians. 
 My three men had been supplied with twenty-one 
 days' rations when we left Moose, and now, at the 
 end of fourteen days, they had no " grub " left, 
 though we had still five or six days to travel in order 
 to reach Michepecoton on Lake Superior. Fortu- 
 nately I had a fairly good supply of my own, not 
 having used mine so freely as the men had theirs, 
 and so we were able to get through without more 
 inconvenience than having to go on rather short 
 rations. In running a rather dangerous rapid just 
 before reaching Michepecoton we had a most exciting 
 time: our canoe was half- filled with water and all 
 my books, clothing, etc., were soaked. This pre- 
 vented us reaching the post that night, and we had 
 to spend a very uncomfortable time on a long port- 
 age, and then go into the Hudson's Bay post next 
 
 22
 
 A Three-Thousand-Mile Trip 
 
 morning, which was Sunday. As usual we met 
 with the warmest welcome from the officer in charge, 
 and spent a very pleasant day there waiting for the 
 steamer to take us into Port Arthur, the western 
 extremity of Lake Superior. Michepecoton was at 
 that time just a trading post of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company, visited by a steamer once a week or so. 
 It has since become quite a large mining centre, and 
 now presents a very different appearance. 
 
 The day after our arrival the steamer coming in, 
 we went on board, and next day reached Port Arthur, 
 or Prince Arthur's Landing as it was then called. 
 The town of Fort William was as yet non-existent, 
 and the Canadian Pacific Railway had been com- 
 pleted only between Port Arthur and Winnipeg. 
 
 This was the first western town I had ever seen, 
 and it struck me as very strange indeed. The 
 railway ran right up the centre of the main street, 
 and the town itself consisted of a few shacks thrown 
 down, or rather up, just anyhow. The few hours 
 I stayed here before taking the night train for 
 Winnipeg were not spent in sight-seeing, since every- 
 thing could very easily be seen in five minutes. As 
 we travelled by night I had no chance of seeing 
 anything of the country until in the early morning 
 we ran into Rat Portage, now Kenora, on the Lake 
 of the Woods, one of the prettiest lakes in Central 
 Canada. Here there seemed to be little besides the 
 railway station, a very poor affair, and one or two 
 other buildings, chief amongst which, as usual in a 
 
 2j
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 western town, was the hotel or saloon. Altogether 
 the place was very different from the pretty little 
 town of Kenora as it is to-day, where I have had the 
 honour and privilege of living for the last eighteen 
 years. 
 
 Winnipeg had just passed through the boom of 
 1882, and was still feeling the ill-effects. The town 
 in those days consisted of one main street, with 
 very narrow sidewalks. The mud in the roadway 
 was ankle-deep, and of a singularly adhesive 
 character. If one had to cross the street, it was 
 necessary on the farther side to examine one's foot- 
 gear carefully to make sure one had not left it 
 behind on the way across. At the present day it 
 is almost impossible to realize what the place was 
 like forty years ago. 
 
 I spent three days as the guest of the late Primate, 
 Archbishop Machray (then only Bishop of Rupert's 
 Land), at old Bishoi:)'s Court, with its many 
 memories of Bishop Anderson, its first Bishop, and 
 the early missionaries of Red River country. 
 
 Old St. John's School was then standing, but now 
 all the old buildings have gone, the ancient land- 
 marks have been removed, and even Bishop's Court 
 has given place to a new and modern building. 
 
 A single small steamer then ran on Lake 
 Winnipeg, one of the small lakes of Canada, only 
 300 miles long, at rather irregular intervals. For 
 this I had to wait nearly a month, and during that 
 time was most hospitably entertained by the Rev. 
 
 24
 
 A Three-Thousand-Mile Trip 
 
 R. Young and his good wife at St. Andrew's. The 
 following year the Rev. R. Young was consecrated 
 the second Bishop of Athabasca. This gave me 
 an excellent opportunity of becoming acquainted 
 with some of the old Red River settlers, such as 
 the late Captain Kennedy, with whom I passed 
 many pleasant evenings (listening to tales of his 
 northern trips), John Norquay, first Premier of 
 Manitoba, Archdeacon Cowley, and many others. 
 
 I was most impatient to get on, but things did not 
 move at all quickly in those days, and there was 
 nothing to do but wait for the steamer. At the 
 end of nearly a month a " runner " came up from 
 Selkirk to say that the boat was in, and would start 
 out early in the morning, so I had to take a very 
 hasty leave of my host and hostess, whose kindness 
 I have never forgotten, and take a " rig " to catch 
 the Princess. 
 
 There was quite a large party on board and not 
 too much room; amongst the passengers were the 
 Ven. Archdeacon Cowley, going to visit the Missions 
 at Cumberland House and other places; Mr. and 
 Mrs. Cuthbert Sinclair of Oxford House, with whom 
 I was to travel as far as that place; and a party of 
 about a dozen tourists going to see the lake. The 
 accommodation was poor and scanty, and the 
 very rough weather we encountered was not at all 
 conducive to comfort. I remember well that one 
 morning the captain and I were the only ones to 
 face the ordeal of the breakfast table. A voyage of 
 
 25
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 nearly a week brought us at last to Warren's Landing 
 at the outlet of the Nelson River from the lake. 
 The Sinclairs, a Methodist minister and his family, 
 and I disembarked here, with 20 miles still before 
 us ere we should reach Norway House. An Indian 
 at work cutting hay, to whom we applied for 
 means of water transport, informed us that he 
 had only a small canoe. Wc were therefore obliged 
 to dispatch him to Norway House in search of a 
 large boat. It was not until the end of the third 
 day that his successful return enabled us to continue 
 our journey. 
 
 Norway House was in those days, and is still, 
 an important post of the Hudson's Bay Company, 
 but gone for ever is the glory of the early days when 
 the " Councils of the North " were held there, with 
 Sir George Simpson in the chair, surrounded by his 
 chief factors and traders — the three grades of ollicers 
 in the Company's service. 
 
 The fort stands in a very conspicuous position 
 on a rocky point overlooking the Jack River where 
 it empties into Little Playgreen Lake. It is sur- 
 rounded by a rather low stockade of wood, with a 
 very imposing gateway. All the buildings are of 
 wood, whitewashed or painted. Inside tliere stand 
 two rows of warehouses, etc.; the " Master's House " 
 is at the upper end overlooking the whole, and 
 " Bachelors' Hall " close by. 
 
 Four miles across the lake is the Methodist 
 Mission attached to the Indian village there, one 
 
 2O
 
 
 
 INDIAN SHAK 
 
 NORWAY HOISK TRADING POST 
 
 p. 26
 
 A Three-Thousand-Mile Trip 
 
 of the oldest Indian Missions in the whole north 
 country. Here Mr. Evans, an early missionary, 
 invented that wonderful syllabic system in which 
 so many Indian books are printed and which has 
 been such a boon to the whole north country. 
 Here also Dr. Mason, for many years a C.M.S. 
 Missionary at York Factory, began his work amongst 
 the Cree Indians. Ordained afterwards as a minister 
 of the Church of England, he, with the assistance 
 of his wife, translated the whole Bible into the Cree 
 language. This work formed the basis of Arch- 
 deacon Mackay's revision, which was completed in 
 1908. 
 
 Leaving Norway House after a stay of a week — 
 during which I had the privilege of preaching to a 
 large number of Christian Indians in the Methodist 
 church — we made our way to Oxford House in a 
 York boat, a very much more comfortable method 
 of travel than by canoe. For some thirty miles 
 we went down the Nelson River, then up the Iche- 
 marmis, a very small and narrow river flowing into 
 the Nelson, then across a small height of land, into 
 lakes and rivers flowing in a more easterly direction 
 leading into the Hill River, and hnally into the 
 Hayes. 
 
 Oxford House is another Methodist mission station. 
 There being no minister in charge at the time of my 
 visit, I was asked to give them a service, which 
 I was much pleased to do, and I also baptized 
 several children 
 
 27
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 The journey from Oxford House to York Factory 
 was made in a small birchbark canoe with two 
 Indians. During this part of the trip we encoun- 
 tered a very large number of rapids, some of them 
 very difficult to run and some quite impossible. 
 Running rapids in the north country is most exciting 
 and dangerous work. At first one sits in fear and 
 trembling, but after a time the fear passes and one 
 takes it as a mere matter of course, yet the danger 
 is a very real one, though overcome to a wonderful 
 extent by the great skill of the natives in handling 
 their canoes. Of course accidents and some deaths 
 by drowning occur now and then, but they are very 
 few and far between with native boatmen, and 
 much more frequent in the case of white men, 
 who imagine they can handle a canoe as well as a 
 native. In the very first rapid we had the mis- 
 fortune to run our canoe on to a rock, thereby tearing 
 a hole in the birchbark about a foot long. We just 
 managed to get ashore with our canoe more than 
 half-full of water and all our baggage soaking wet. 
 One learns to take this sort of thing very philo- 
 sophically after a time in northern travel. 
 
 The damage was rapidly and skilfully repaired. 
 One Indian built a big fire whilst the other went 
 off into the woods and reLunied with a large piece 
 of birchbark torn off a tree. This was sewn over 
 the rent with willow roots, and the edges covered 
 over with pitch, which we carried for the purpose. 
 In an hour we were afloat again, as if nothing had 
 
 28
 
 A Tliree-Thousand-Mile Trip 
 
 happened. No other exciting incident happened 
 to us, except that we fell in with a large herd of 
 deer; however, having no bullets, we were unable to 
 shoot 3.ny of them, though we were very short of 
 food at the time. 
 
 The weather became very bad as we ncared the 
 coast; snow fell every day, and the water froze on 
 our paddles as we strained every nerve to reach the 
 Bay before the winter really set in. 
 
 On the 2nd of October we came in sight of York 
 Factory. It presented a very wintry appearance, 
 the ground being thickly covered with snow, and 
 sharp frosts occurring every night. More than five 
 months had elapsed since I left Little Whale River, 
 which, in actual distance across the Bay, was little 
 more than five hundred miles from York. Though 
 still 200 miles from Churchill, my future home, 
 I was glad to be thus far on my journey and 
 on the west side of the Bay. I had spent fourteen 
 weeks in actual travel, either by snow-shoe or in 
 canoe; during this time I never slept in a bed, and 
 had covered over three thousand miles. 
 
 The Rev. G. S. Winter was in charge of the Mission 
 at York, and he and his good wife gave me a very 
 hearty welcome. It was a great change to them 
 to have the prospect of a fellow-worker for the 
 winter, for the next missionary was some six hun- 
 dred miles away. To my very great disappointment 
 I found that there was no possibility of my going 
 on to Churchill that year. The annual ship had been 
 
 29
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 and left again for the north, and, until the freezing 
 up of the lakes and rivers made travelling by snow- 
 shoes and sledge possible, all communication with 
 the more northern post was cut off, so after all my 
 exertions and toil I had failed in reaching my goal. 
 One of the great things that one learns in the north 
 is not to " count your chickens before they are 
 hatched." 
 
 30
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A WINTER AT YORK FACTORY 
 (1883-1884) 
 
 York Fort, or Factory as it is more generally called, 
 situated on the Hayes River about four miles from 
 its junction with the Nelson, has, ever since the 
 formation of the Hudson's Bay Company in 1670, 
 been one of their most important posts, especially 
 so before the opening of the Canadian Pacific Rail- 
 way, when it was the depot of the whole western 
 country, and York boats came here not only from 
 Fort Frances, Winnipeg, and the surrounding 
 country, but from Edmonton and the far-away 
 Mackenzie River. 
 
 The first settlers of Red River, sent out by Lord 
 Selkirk, entered the country through this port, and 
 after spending one winter at York, and evidently 
 suffering great hardships, left York Factory on the 
 6th of July for the interior, and they only arrived 
 at Fort Garry on the 30th of August, having had a 
 terrible time coming up the rivers from the coast 
 and across Lake Winnipeg. The arrival of the 
 annual ship at York was the great event of the year, 
 and might take place any time between the middle 
 of August and the end of September, according to 
 
 31
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 the state of the ice in tlie Strait and Bay. At that 
 time forty or fifty chief factors, factors, chief 
 traders, and traders would assemble at York from 
 all parts to obtain their yearly supplies and to 
 send home to England the furs they had collected 
 during the winter. Then, indeed, it was a busy 
 scene on the banks of the Hayes. 
 
 The present fort is only one left of the three or 
 four that were built by the Company on the swampy 
 land forming the peninsula between the Hayes and 
 Nelson Rivers, and either abandoned because of their 
 unsanitary position or burnt down. It is stockaded, 
 as was usual with all their forts, and boasts, or 
 rather did boast in 1883, six large gateways, which 
 were all closed and locked at dark. The large store- 
 house which stands in the centre is one of the finest 
 buildings in the Hudson's Bay regions, and is capable 
 of containing supplies for the whole of the trading 
 posts. 
 
 At one time a staff of twenty clerks and nearly 
 one hundred men, coopers, tinsmiths, boat-builders, 
 and carpenters, were in regular employment, and in 
 summer nearly all the Indians were also employed, 
 but even in 1883 the place had begun to decline, 
 and now its glory has departed. 
 
 In the early days, many of the missionaries and 
 clergy brought out to this country in the Company's 
 vessels acted as chaplains, but it was not until 1854 
 that actual mission work was commenced at York, 
 when Bishop Anderson sent in the Rev. W. Mason, 
 
 32
 
 A Winter at York Factory 
 
 who had been a Methodist missionary at Norway 
 House. The translation of the Bible into Cree was 
 to a very large extent the work of Mrs. Mason, who 
 was a native of Red River, had grown up amongst 
 the Indians, and understood their language perfectly. 
 It is the most idiomatic and by far the best trans- 
 lation that has ever been made in Cree. At York 
 Factory Mrs. Mason on her dying bed finished the 
 last chapter of this marvellous book, which has been 
 such a blessing to the Indians of the whole north 
 country. 
 
 Both Dr. Mason and the Ven. Archdeacon Kirkby, 
 who succeeded him, did splendid and lasting work, 
 and their names are well remembered to this day. 
 
 Connected with the post at the time of my arrival 
 there were some five or six hundred Indians living 
 the story-book life of hunting and fishing. For this 
 purpose they travelled very great distances, some 
 of them only coming to the fort once a year for 
 trading purposes. During the short summer most 
 of the Indians were kept employed about the place, 
 not so much for the value of the work they did, as 
 for the purpose of preventing them from killing the 
 fur-bearing animals out of season, for in the north 
 the " close season " has always been strictly observed. 
 
 When the Indians are in at the post, the missionary 
 is kept very busy indeed. It was quite common, 
 even in 1883, to see congregations of from two to 
 three hundred or even more at a service. In this 
 the Indians joined most heartily, for nearly all of 
 
 33 c
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 them could read in their own tongue, though very 
 few of them knew anything of EngUsh. Family 
 prayers seemed to be a regular institution, there 
 being scarcely a house or tent in which they were 
 not said both night and morning; thus religion was 
 made a part of their daily hfe. I found the first 
 part of the winter slip away pleasantly and swiftly 
 assisting the missionary in day-school — which was 
 in the north always a part of one's duty — and in 
 the daily services and visiting. 
 
 Christmas and New Year's Day, especially the 
 latter, were always great events in the north. Every- 
 one seemed bent on doing his or her best to make 
 them a time of happiness and rejoicing. On New 
 Year's Day the fort was alive with people very 
 early in the morning, for every house had to be 
 visited and tea and cake indulged in. A peculiar 
 custom was that every man was expected to kiss 
 every woman and girl in the place, and it was some- 
 times most amusing to see how this was managed. 
 
 Shortly after Christmas the great event of the 
 winter took place in the arrival of the " packet " 
 from Winnipeg. This was hauled all the way by 
 Indians on flat sledges or toboggans, and generally 
 took about six weeks. Only those who have been 
 without news of the outer world for three or four 
 months can understand what this means, and the 
 crowds who gathered in the guard- room were an 
 amusing, and in some respects a pathetic, sight. 
 
 Early in February, the " packet " from Churchill 
 
 34
 
 A Winter at York Factory 
 
 also arrived with the rather doleful news that the 
 annual ship, a sailing vessel, had been frozen in at 
 that post, and the captain and crew were detained 
 there for the winter. She had been very late in 
 leaving York, and only reached Churchill on the 
 loth of October, by which time the ground was 
 covered with a foot of snow, and it seemed as if the 
 winter had really set in, so that the captain did not 
 think it wise to put out again for fear of being 
 frozen in before he got through the Hudson's Strait. 
 
 This event, unfortunate as it was in many respects, 
 gave me an opportunity of going on to Churchill 
 for a short visit. It was true that the journey 
 would consist of a run on snow-shoes of 400 miles, 
 200 each way, but by this time I thought very little 
 of such an expedition, and was overjoyed at the 
 chance of going. 
 
 In the middle of February, accompanied by 
 Dr. P. Matthews of the Hudson's Bay Company, 
 we started out from York. The weather was bitterly 
 cold, the glass showing forty degrees below zero 
 and a strong north-west wind blowing in our faces 
 the whole way. The usual route (there is no trail) 
 is to cross the Nelson, at a point where it is about 
 seven miles wide, and then to skirt the shores of 
 the bay almost up to Cape Churchill. Along the 
 whole route there is very little shelter of any kind, 
 and often at night-time we were obliged to go 
 four or five miles out of our way before we could 
 find a camping- place and firewood. 
 
 35
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Tents arc never carried in the north country in 
 the winter, and you sleep out in the open in a hole 
 dug in the snow and covered over with the branches 
 of trees, with a large fire — when you can get one — 
 in the front. In this cold and cheerless method of 
 camping (which is really comfortable enough in a 
 well- wooded country), you crawl into your deer 
 or rabbit skin robes and try to sleep until four or 
 five in the morning, by which time you are only 
 too glad to turn out and put on a fire, if you can find 
 wood to burn. Oftentimes in such a camp the 
 only way of getting at all warm is to make a " spit " 
 of one's self, and keep on turning round in front of 
 the fire, for as fast as one part warms up the other 
 part freezes. 
 
 We had very bad weather the whole way, and the 
 noses and cheeks of our whole party were very badly 
 frozen when we at last reached Churchill on our 
 sixth day. We must, indeed, have been a rough- 
 looking lot on our arrival, but our sore feet and frozen 
 limbs were soon forgotten in the warm welcome we 
 received from Mr. and Mrs. John Spencer, who were 
 in charge. Mr. Spencer was a brother of Mr. M. 
 Spencer, whom I had met the year before at Fort 
 George, and his wife was a sister of Archdeacon 
 Pliair of Winnipeg, so we had many friends in 
 common. 
 
 Churchill in winter is a very dreary place and far 
 from attractive. It consisted at that time of the 
 " master's house," a comfortable dwelhng of good 
 
 36
 
 A Winter at York Factory 
 
 size, a small one-roomed habitation for the clerk, in 
 which he both worked and slept, three very dilapi- 
 dated houses for the men, and but three other build- 
 ings in the place — viz., the store, shop, and blubber- 
 house. I stayed here just a month, holding services 
 and teaching school in the master's house, there being 
 no other place I could use. There were about a 
 dozen English sailors from the Ocean Nymph at the 
 post, and a mixed multitude (about fifty) of 
 English, Irish, Scotch, half-breeds, Indians, and 
 Eskimos, so that I found plenty of work to do. 
 Many of the sailors were down with scurvy, some 
 of them very bad. This was brought on almost 
 entirely by the lazy life they led. They were so 
 terribly afraid of the cold that they hardly put 
 their noses out of doors, and would not take 
 sufficient exercise, having no regular work to do. 
 Up to that time I had believed, with most people, 
 that scurvy was produced chiefly by living upon 
 salt food, but my opinion on this point underwent 
 a complete change, for these sailors were living on 
 much better food than the residents of the fort; 
 they had a good supply of fresh meat brought from 
 the ship, with flour and vegetables, whilst the 
 people of the fort were living almost entirely on salt 
 meat, as game was very scarce about the place 
 that year ; they had very little flour, as the Company 
 did not import much in those days, and eight 
 pounds of flour was the week's allowance for a family 
 of eight or nine persons ; and they had no vegetables, 
 
 37
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 as these are not grown and are never imported by 
 the Company. Yet, in spite of all this, whilst the 
 sailors were all down with scurvy, and had been 
 so for weeks, there was only one case of it amongst 
 the fort people, an old man over eighty, who was 
 unable to get about. The reason for this was simply 
 that the fort people led very active lives and went 
 off in the woods to get food or cut firewood, etc., 
 whilst the sailors, as I have said, would not move 
 out of the house. 
 
 After spending a very happy month at Churchill 
 I tramped back to York, The weather was now 
 much milder, and travelling with, instead of against, 
 the wind we got on much faster, and arrived at 
 York on the fifth day with nothing worse than 
 blistered feet caused by the hard walking and a 
 touch of snow-blindness due to the intense glare 
 of the sun on the snow. 
 
 38
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A GREAT AND TRYING DISAPPOINTMENT 
 
 (1884) 
 
 On my return from Churchill in March I settled 
 down again to steady v/ork, helping the Rev. G. S. 
 Winter in his labours at Yorl- Factory, sharing the 
 teaching in the day-school, visi. iig the tents of the 
 Indians, and taking my share in preaching at both 
 the English and Indian services. 
 
 A few weeks later the spring packet arrived from 
 the interior. The absence of all news from the 
 outside world for a period of three months or more 
 causes the arrival of the mail to be greeted with 
 the greatest excitement imaginable, though it is 
 remarkable that after a time in the north one does 
 not think much of one's isolation until the mail 
 actually arrives. Then one's hunger for news is 
 assuaged, there is a great rush for the letters, and 
 their contents form the sole topic of conversation 
 for weeks after. Most of my letters by this mail 
 contained good news; from one letter I learned that 
 my affianced wife was to come out by the ship in 
 August to throw in her lot with mine, and to join 
 me in working for the good of the Eskimos and 
 Indians, The long months of waiting from April 
 
 39
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 to August did not seem to drag along so slowly as 
 one might have feared, for in the lonely fastnesses 
 of the north time flies much more quickly than 
 one would dare to hope. 
 
 Spring came on very early that year, bringing with 
 it first of all the pretty little snow bunting in count- 
 less numbers, and the children were all very busy 
 trying to net them for food. These harbingers of 
 spring appear to migrate north and south, all the time 
 keeping, as it were, upon the edge of the snow. 
 
 Then followed the geese, which fly along the shores 
 of the Bay in spring to return in the autumn, surer 
 weather prophets than even the great " Foster." 
 Since the rapid development of the west, however, 
 the geese seem to have discovered the grain fields, and 
 follow a fresh route to the north, where they go to 
 nest and raise their young, for they are by no means 
 so plentiful as formerly on the shores of the Bay. 
 In past times, at all the posts, people used to depend 
 upon the geese for their supply of fresh food both 
 in the spring and fall, shooting them oftentimes 
 in thousands. 
 
 The opening of the Hayes River followed soon after 
 the flight of the birds. This was an event always 
 awaited with some anxiety, for the ice will some- 
 times jam in the river, causing it to rise and flood 
 the whole countryside ; even the fort itself is 
 sometimes inundated to the depth of a foot or two, 
 and large blocks of ice come crashing right up 
 against the stockades or pickets. Parts of the 
 
 40
 
 ^^'
 
 A Great and Trying Disappointment 
 
 river bank are often carried away and great damage 
 is done. 
 
 The Indians follow closely in the wake of the ice, 
 many of them floating down just behind it on rafts 
 of timber and firewood. All is then bustle and 
 excitement; the work of the summer has begun. 
 English school gives place to Indian, services are 
 held every night, and there is a constant stream of 
 the dusky children of the woods to see and consult 
 the missionary upon the thousand and one points 
 which may have arisen since their last visit to the 
 fort. Generally there is quite a large number of 
 children to be baptized, and nearly always several 
 marriages have to be performed. 
 
 The annual ship was to call first of all at Churchill 
 that year, and, as I did not like the idea of a young 
 lady landing in a strange country with no one she 
 knew to welcome her, I decided to go on there to 
 meet her. 
 
 The only possible means of travel at that time of 
 the year — July — was to tramp along the shores of 
 the Bay. There were no roads or trails, no stopping- 
 places, not a house of any kind between York and 
 Churchill, but I was by this time accustomed to 
 roughing it, and thought no more of a walk of 200 
 miles than of one of 20 in the Old Country, more 
 especially so on this occasion when I had the 
 realization of a long-expected meeting in prospect. 
 
 Accompanied by two Indians, a man, and a boy, 
 each carrying a blanket, gun, and a few pounds of 
 
 41
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 hard tack, a little tea, and sugar, we started across 
 the Nelson on the 26th of July in one of the Hudson's 
 Bay Company's boats. A very heavy thunder- 
 storm overtook us as we rounded the " Point of 
 Marsh," between the Hayes and Nelson Rivers, 
 and for a time our lives were in great danger. We 
 got across in safety, however, and encamped in a 
 creek on the far side of the 17-mile stretch of river. 
 Next morning the boat returned to York, and we 
 began our tramp north. 
 
 The western coast of Hudson's Bay is very 
 flat and swampy, especially between York and 
 Churchill. Owing to the lack of any road or trail 
 the walking is often very wet and rough, so we 
 camped that night at Stoncy Creek, both stiff and 
 tired out. Having no tent, we were obliged to sleep 
 out in the open with no other protection than that 
 of a rude driftwood screen to windward and a big 
 fire in the front. Next day our guide, Andrew 
 Flett, succeeded in killing a deer. This supply of 
 fresh meat was most opportune, for we had very 
 little with us; we were, however, unable to take 
 very much, as it would have added greatly to our 
 already heavy burdens. 
 
 I was trudging slowly along, deep in conversation 
 with my Indian boy, when quite suddenly he stopped 
 and whispered, " Look, a bear !" Taken unawares, 
 and unable for the moment to see anything, I thought 
 he was jesting until with his outstretched chin and 
 finger he pointed out a large polar bear sound 
 
 42
 
 A Great and Trying Disappointment 
 
 asleep in a clump of sedge grass not twenty yards 
 away. His big white sides rose and fell with bellows- 
 like regularity. 
 
 With a keenness readily understood I was pre- 
 paring to shoot him when Andrew, whose heavier 
 load had delayed him somewhat, came up and ob- 
 jected most strongly to my doing so. He pointed 
 out, quite rightly, that we could not carry more than 
 what we already had with us, that we required no 
 more meat, and that we were loo miles from 
 anywhere. As this was the first polar bear I had 
 seen, I was by no means willing to be convinced, 
 but at length allowed his emphatic " No, no use kill 
 him, not shoot, no carry skin to Churchill " to dis- 
 suade me. Accordingly we drew off a few paces 
 to windward and Andrew told me to fire just over 
 his back. Up he jumped, as scared as a jack-rabbit, 
 and made for the open water with great lumbering 
 strides, never so much as glancing round to see what 
 had frightened him, although we were not twenty 
 yards away. The next day we saw another polar 
 bear, but he was a long way off and was making for 
 the open sea. 
 
 This portion of the coast is a very good place for 
 bears. I have gone along there dozens of times 
 and hardly ever without seeing two or three, some- 
 times fishing off Cape Churchill, and sometimes on 
 the shore. 
 
 After eight days' very heavy travelling, sometimes 
 plunging through swamps, up to the knees in water, 
 
 43
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 at other times walking on the sharp limestone 
 with which the coast is strewn, spending the night 
 wherever it happened to overtake us, often drenched 
 to the skin by heavy rain and sleeping in our wet 
 garments, we at length reached Churchill, where the 
 warm welcome of Mr. J. Spencer and his genial Irish 
 wife, and the luxuries of a bath and a comfortable 
 bed, soon made me forget my aching hmbs and badly 
 blistered feet. 
 
 The late arrival of the annual ship, which did not 
 appear until the end of August, caused much anxiety 
 at Churchill, and to none more so than to me. Any 
 delay in the coming of the one ship a year is naturally 
 a matter of great concern to people who are depen- 
 dent upon it for their supply of food and clothing. 
 However, one day, at the cry of " The ship is in 
 sight," all the inhabitants gathered on the high 
 rocks at the back of the post, from which one has an 
 extensive view of the Bay. With deep thankfulness 
 we watched the ship make her way into the snug 
 little harbour, and soon after she had cast anchor 
 Mr. Spencer and I went on board. 
 
 As we climbed up the side of the vessel there were 
 no passengers visible, and I began to wonder why this 
 was so, but thought that possibly the young lady 
 did not like to put in an appearance and was keeping 
 in the background, I anxiously asked if there were 
 no passengers on board, and Captain Main at once 
 replied in the negative. I could not believe him and 
 rushed below, but found not a trace of anyone. 
 
 44
 
 A Great and Trying Disappointment 
 
 When I reappeared on the deck the captain gave me 
 a letter which very much upset me ; it told me that 
 the young lady had not come, the Company having 
 at the very last moment refused to bring her out, as 
 the vessel lacked the proper accommodation for her 
 She had cabled to me to this effect, but the message 
 only reached me upon my return to York, fully three 
 months after it had been sent off. 
 
 My walk of 200 miles had been all in vain. There 
 was nothing for it but to return, a sadder if not a 
 wiser man, having learned another lesson of the 
 patience which the north so truly teaches. Yet the 
 time consumed on this fruitless quest was not 
 altogether wasted. The Eskimos and Indians were 
 greatly pleased to have a missionary amongst them, 
 if only for a month. I had also the great pleasure 
 and profit of meeting the Canadian Government 
 Expedition, under the command of Commander 
 Gordon, sent out to ascertain the possibility of navi- 
 gating Hudson's Strait and Bay. Dr. Robert Bell, 
 of the Geological Survey, was also on board. Both 
 gentlemen were exceedingly kind to me, and took 
 the warmest interest in the work of the Mission. 
 This interest greatly benefited the establishment of 
 the Churchill Mission, for their promise of every 
 possible assistance was abundantly fulfilled in the 
 following year. We owe a great debt of gratitude to 
 both these gentlemen for their help and encourage- 
 ment at a time when things looked about as dark as 
 they well could be. 
 
 45
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Captain Main very kindly saved me the tramp back 
 to York by offering me a passage in his vessel. We 
 started out, and, after a splendid run of three days, 
 safely anchored in " 5-fathom " hole in the mouth 
 of the Hayes, and I found myself once more under 
 the hospitable roof of the mission house. 
 
 46
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 PATIENCE REWARDED AT LAST 
 (1885) 
 
 The Rev. G. S. Winter and his family, who had been 
 six years at York, returned to England, on furlough, 
 about the middle of September in the Cam Owen, 
 leaving me in charge of the work at the Mission, but 
 my bachelor life was vastly more pleasant than it 
 had been at Whale River, as I had the Winters' 
 house and the services of a fairly capable Indian girl. 
 
 The winter came on as usual, and passed both 
 swiftly and pleasantly. With all the work of the 
 Mission on my hands, my time was fully occupied, 
 but, nevertheless, I was able to take part in several 
 hunting trips, during which I visited some Indian 
 families and held services with them. 
 
 Long trips were, of course, out of the question, 
 as I could not leave the fort for any great length of 
 time. 
 
 When the winter packet arrived in January, I 
 was greatly cheered by the news that my fiancee 
 was to come out by the annual ship in the follow- 
 ing August. Arrangements had been made, the 
 Company had promised to bring her, and there was 
 very little doubt she would arrive in time. 
 
 47
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Spring came on very slowly that year, or, at least, 
 it seemed so to me: weeks and months dragged 
 wearily along, and it was not luitil the end of July 
 that I was able to plan another walk along the coast 
 to Churchill to meet the ship. Accompanied once 
 more by a man and a boy, though not the same pair 
 I had before, we left York on the 3rd of August. 
 No boat being obtainable from the Company to put 
 us across the Nelson River, we were obliged to wade 
 through the 4 miles of swamp between the Hayes 
 and the Nelson up to the knees in water, with an 
 occasional and unexpected drop waist-deep. There 
 is no danger of being unable to touch bottom in 
 these swamps, for the frost never leaves them; 
 you may go down 3 feet or so, and then come 
 on to the solid ice — in fact, anywhere near York if 
 you dig down 3 feet you come upon frozen ground, 
 for the summers are not long enough or hot enough 
 to thaw it out. 
 
 When we reached the Nelson and had gone up 
 some miles we were fortunate enough to find 
 several Indian families, with whom we spent the 
 night, and next day they very kindly paddled us 
 across the river on to the north bank. A wet and 
 cold day's march brought us tired out and weary 
 to Stoney River, where we spent the night in a rain- 
 storm, which soon saturated our blankets, for we 
 had no means of making any shelter. Day after 
 day we trudged on. Nearly every day rain fell 
 heavily, and it was anything but comfortable. 
 
 48
 
 Patience Rewarded at Last 
 
 Game was very scarce; we met with no deer, and 
 only once did we see a polar bear, and he was far 
 out of reach. 
 
 On these trips we depended almost entirely upon 
 our guns for food, as it was impossible to carry 
 baggage weighing more than a few pounds, and 
 there are no houses at which one can purchase 
 supplies. I often thought with envy of the string of 
 porters by which the missionary in Central Africa 
 is generally accompanied, and the villages on the 
 way where one can buy food. At the end of our 
 fifth day, when we were still 50 miles away trom 
 Churchill, our food supply came to an end, and no 
 game of any kind appeared. All the next day we 
 tramped on the strength of a cup of tea. To make 
 matters worse, the walking was simply wretched, 
 and rain fell heavily, so that an hour after we 
 started we were soaked to the skin; yet there was 
 no possibility of stopping, for we had neither food 
 nor shelter, and there was no chance of getting any 
 until we reached Churchill unless we fell in with 
 game. The following day was Sunday, but it was 
 impossible to stop, so after a light breakfast of tea 
 we started out, and trudged on until late in the 
 afternoon, when I saw three ducks in a small pond; 
 of these I managed to bag two. This was the only 
 occasion on which I ever did any shooting on Sunday, 
 but our condition was such that my conscience 
 found nothing blameworthy in the action. We 
 camped for the night, and had our first meal for two 
 
 49 D
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 whole days. We did not reach Churchill until the 
 ninth day, completely tired out, footsore and weary, 
 and faint with hunger. The ship had not yet arrived, 
 so that my patience was tried yet a little further. 
 
 On Sunday, the last day of August, the ship hove 
 in sight, and as soon as she was anchored I jumped 
 on board, and rejoiced to find there was to be no 
 disappointment this time, for the young lady was 
 leaning over the bulwarks to welcome me. I then 
 learned that they had been just twelve weeks out 
 from London, six of which had been spent fast in 
 the ice of Hudson's Strait. As the Cam Owen — 
 a small whaling vessel — boasted very little in the 
 way of comfort or convenience, my fiancee and her 
 maid, the only passengers, were delighted to find 
 themselves, as they thought, at the end of their 
 journey. The 200 miles to York Factory, however, 
 still remained to be traversed. 
 
 We at once landed and went up to Mrs. Spencer's. 
 The trip had been a very trying one in every way, 
 and my fiancee had suffered greatly. When we were 
 walking up the fort one of Mrs. Spencer's little girls 
 rushed into the house to her mother, and said, " Oh, 
 mother, what a narrow wife," meaning how very 
 thin and poorly my future wife looked. In talking 
 over affairs that night, a peculiar dilemma arose. 
 Very briefly it was this. Mr. Winter, who we had 
 also expected was coming out by the ship, had not 
 arrived; his wife ho.d been ill and his furlough had 
 been extended. Who was to marry us ? I was the 
 
 50
 
 Patience Rewarded at Last 
 
 only minister in the whole of that north comitry. 
 The young lady was very naturally greatly troul)led 
 at this state of affairs after a journey of 3,000 miles 
 in a small whaler. She asked me if there was not, 
 at least, a Methodist minister within reach who 
 could tie the knot. I told her there certainly was, 
 but unfortunately he was quite 700 miles away, 
 a six weeks' journey without any possibility of 
 returning for, at least, a year. To this she replied, 
 if that was the case, the only possible course was for 
 her to return to England as she had come. This 
 plan I most emphatically vetoed. " Here you are," 
 I said, "and here you will remain; if there is no 
 other way out I shall perform the ceremony 
 myself." This I knew had been done before in the 
 north, and I was quite willing to test the legality 
 of the question if there was no other way out of the 
 difficulty. 
 
 At this j uncture an event occurred which enabled 
 us to find a way out. On the 2nd of September the 
 Alert, the famous Arctic exploring vessel, came into 
 the Churchill harbour, having been chartered by the 
 Canadian Government for the second expedition 
 to Hudson's Bay. My good friend Commander 
 Gordon was in charge of her, together with 
 Dr. Robert Bell and quite a large party of surveyors, 
 amongst others Mr. J. W. Tyrrell of the Geological 
 Survey, who was to spend the coming winter watch- 
 ing the ice in Hudson's Strait. 
 
 I immediately made known our difficulty to 
 51
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Captain Gordon and Dr. Bell, and we finally decided 
 that the captain should perform the ceremony on 
 board the Alert, for he possessed the necessary legal 
 qualifications, both as the captain of a naval vessel 
 and as a magistrate for the district of Keewatin; 
 so on Friday, September the 4th, we were married, 
 according to the Rites of the Church of England, 
 in the main saloon of the Alert, the ceremony being 
 recorded in the ship's log and in the marriage register 
 which she carried. 
 
 Commander Gordon and Dr. Bell, both of them 
 most warmly interested in the work of the Churchill 
 Mission, had brought out in the Alert from Ottawa 
 a sufiicient amount of lumber, with doors, windows, 
 and stove, to make a nice little mission house. These 
 supplies were contributed for the most part by 
 Ottawa people, many or most of whom were Pres- 
 byterians : the first time, I imagine, that a Church of 
 England Mission was really established by Pres- 
 byterians, for if this lumber, etc., had not been 
 brought out, we could not have had a Mission there 
 for years, as the Company would not help us. 
 
 As the missionary for York Factory had not 
 arrived by the ship, we were ordered to return there 
 and carry on the work for another year. The lumber 
 which had been brought out for the mission house 
 had to be landed as best it could. Commander 
 Gordon kindly lent me some of his men, and we made 
 a raft of about half of it, and this was towed up 
 to Cockles Point; the other half was landed at 
 
 52
 
 Patience Rewarded at Last 
 
 " The Shanty " and thrown upon the beach, where 
 it had to remain for a year. 
 
 A few hours after our marriage we said good-bye 
 to all our kind friends at the post and on board the 
 Alert, and put out to sea in the Cam Owen with the 
 expectation of reaching York in three or four days 
 at least, but nothing is more uncertain than travelling 
 in Hudson's Bay in September in a sailing vessel. 
 Scarcely had we left the harbour when we encoun- 
 tered a most severe gale, which compelled us to beat 
 up and down the coast for fourteen days. Twice 
 we sighted the beacon at the mouth of the Hayes 
 and Nelson Rivers, but we dared not go near on 
 account of the dangerous sand-bars in the narrow 
 channel. 
 
 The accommodation on board the Cam Owen was 
 very primitive and very limited, and any degree of 
 comfort was quite out of the question. Mrs. L., 
 who is a very poor sailor at any time, was very ill 
 all the way, the result doubtless of her long sea 
 voyage in the whaler, so that when at last we did 
 get into the York roadstead and the Company's 
 boat came off to us, we were deeply thankful to 
 get ashore and take up our abode in the mission 
 house. Thus it was that my wife found her first 
 home not, as she expected, at Churchill, but at 
 York Factory. 
 
 It seemed very hard at the time to have to delay 
 the establishing of the Churchill Mission, but it was 
 really a good thing in the end, for I am quite sure 
 
 53
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 my wife's health would not have stood the strain 
 at Churchill that winter. At York we had a doctor, 
 and things were very comfortable compared with 
 what they would have been at the more northern 
 post. Thus we saw how God, even when we think 
 things are hard, overrules all for good. 
 
 54
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FOUNDING OF THE CHURCFULL MISSION 
 (i 883-1 886) 
 
 A VERY congenial little community of English-speak- 
 ing people at York made the winter of 1885-86 pass 
 quite pleasantly. There was a resident doctor and 
 his wife, who was a daughter of Archdeacon Kirkby, 
 Dr. Mason's successor, also Mr. M. Matherson, 
 of the H.B.C., and his wife, and several very nice 
 families and clerks. The weather was remarkably 
 mild right up to Christmas, but in the north sooner 
 or later winter arrives with inexorable certainty. 
 
 We had also some visitors from Winnipeg very 
 late in the year. It is interesting to note, in view 
 of the present-day agitation for the Hudson's Bay 
 line, that these were surveyors for the railway, 
 but their survey consisted of a few days' stay at York 
 and a prompt return to Oxford House. 
 
 Our winter and spring packets came and went as 
 usual, bringing no very startling news from the 
 outer world, but in July a packet from the interior 
 brought the welcome news that Archdeacon Winter 
 and his family were to return from England by the 
 ship, and that we were at liberty to set our faces to 
 the north. I had now been three years in the country 
 
 55
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 without an opportunity of starting the Mission for 
 which I had come to Hudson's Bay. 
 
 There had been an unfortunate dispute with the 
 Company's officer in charge at York in regard to 
 the estabhshment of a Mission at Churchill, and on 
 this account Mr. Matherson declined to give us a 
 passage in the Company's boat, which was going 
 on there, or to assist us in any way. 
 
 Finally, however, he consented to our hiring a 
 boat and crew, and, on the 2ist of July, we left 
 York and set out for Churchill, " the last house in 
 the world." 
 
 Our boat contained six Indians, my wife, myself, 
 and an English maid. There was no cabin or shelter 
 of any kind, except such as we could make from sail 
 or oil cloth. Some faint impression of the discom- 
 forts of a voyage along the shores of Hudson's Bay 
 between York and Churchill may be gathered from 
 the words of a recent traveller, who says, " The trip 
 along the coast is invariably fraught with consider- 
 able exposure, and always with danger. At many 
 points along the barren shores the tide recedes from 
 one to four miles from the high-water mark, and it 
 is very difficult to reach the shore for camping at 
 night. Added to this is the difficulty of finding 
 shelter (and fresh water), there being few places 
 along the coast to afford spots of refuge in times of 
 storm " (which are very frequent). 
 
 At night we ran our boat close inshore until she 
 grounded, a rather primitive method of camping, 
 
 56
 
 The Founding of the Churchill Mission 
 
 but as the boat generally grounded a mile or two 
 from the beach, with mud-flats in between, which a 
 lady could not possibly traverse, there was nothing 
 for it but to spend the nights on board. 
 
 Fortunately for us the weather remained mostly 
 fair, and after a six days' run we reached Churchill, 
 where we met with the usual warm welcome from 
 the inhabitants. Having no house or even tent of 
 our own we gratefully accepted the hospitality of 
 the Spencers until we could render habitable a 
 small iron church, which had been sent on from 
 York some years before by Archdeacon Kirkby. 
 This church, about twenty by sixteen feet, was in a 
 sorry state of dilapidation, and did not look very 
 promising for an abode. It was, however, the only 
 possible home until I could put up the recently 
 imported mission house. A curtain, hung across 
 the centre, divided it into two rooms, one a combina- 
 tion living-room and bedroom, the other a kitchen. 
 It was really a fortunate thing that in those days 
 we possessed very few worldly goods, for the little 
 we had occupied most of the floor space. 
 
 As this was the only place in which services could 
 be held, everything possible was packed away on 
 Sundays, chiefly on the bed, and seats were brought 
 in from outside. In this manner our three Sunday 
 services were regularly held. In the three months 
 during which we lived in this tiny church a great deal 
 of rain fell, and it rained almost as much inside as 
 out, because the roof was so bad. Every utensil 
 
 57
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 which could be pressed into service was in constant 
 use to catch the dripping water. During service it 
 was by no means an uncommon thing to see some 
 member of the congregation, exasperated by the 
 tantalizing drip, drip of the water on one portion of 
 his or her body, shift to some other spot, to enjoy the 
 relief of having a fresh part slowly saturated. In early 
 October the thermometer went down to zero, and 
 even below every night, and bread, butter, and every- 
 thing liquid became frozen solid. I have known 
 a kettle full of water boiling at ii p.m. become 
 solid ice at 5 a.m. Bed and blankets alone kept 
 out the cold. 
 
 Our greatest concern at this time was naturally 
 the erection of the mission house. The Aleri, 
 with Commander Gordon and Dr. Bell on board, 
 had come into the harbour soon after our arrival 
 at Churchill. Admiral Markham was also on board, 
 having taken the voyage simply for the sake of 
 being on board his old vessel, sailing in northern 
 waters. 
 
 The lumber for the mission house, brought out 
 the previous year, as already related, had been lying 
 throughout the winter on the banks of the river, 
 some of it at Cockles Point, 2 miles away from where 
 the Mission was to stand, and some 5 miles away 
 at the Whaling Shanty. We had no boat or any 
 other means of getting it up the river, as we were not 
 allowed to use the boat and men brought on from 
 York, neither could we hire a man or boat from the 
 
 58
 
 The Founding of the Churchill Mission 
 
 Company. However, my feeling of despair was 
 alleviated when Captain Gordon lent me two men, 
 with whose aid a raft was constructed of the lumber 
 lying at the Shanty, This was towed up to the 
 Mission by the ship's steam launch, and then, the 
 Alert having to depart for York, I was left to do the 
 best I could. With the aid of my wife I carried 
 all the lumber brought up from the Shanty from 
 the beach, to where I wished to build the house, a 
 distance of lOO yards, but was unable to begin 
 the building itself, as part of the lumber was 
 still 2 miles away at Cockles Point. How to get 
 this up I did not know, but early in August a party 
 of eight Eskimos came in from the north, and I got 
 them to go down with me and make a raft. The 
 Churchill being a tidal river, I thought we might 
 possibly float this up to the Mission, but I failed to 
 take into account the fact that the Eskimos, living 
 as they do on the treeless barren lands, know nothing 
 of rafting lumber, and I had no experience of this 
 work either. However, one somehow learns many 
 things in the north, and we constructed the raft, 
 though I have no doubt a hmibernian or an Indian 
 would have been highly amused at it. When the 
 tide came in it floated, however, and the nine of us 
 got on to it and poled it out from the shore, trying 
 to keep as close in as possible. Unfortunately I 
 had given the Eskimos some tobacco, in order to 
 get them to go with me, and as soon as we were afloat 
 they thought it would be a good time for a smoke, 
 
 59
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 and all sat down and lit their pipes. With no 
 one but myself poling, we began to spin round and 
 round, and, getting into cross-currents, we gradually 
 drifted into deep water, where I could not reach 
 the bottom. The Eskimos continued to smoke 
 in spite of all I could say, and soon we were getting 
 well out into the middle of the river, and were going 
 down instead of up. It looked very much as if we 
 might go right out to sea. Fortunately some of the 
 fort men saw our danger, told Mr. Spencer, and he 
 sent out a boat which towed us in to land. As soon 
 as we landed and had made the raft fast, the Eskimos 
 jumped ashore, and said they must at once leave for 
 the north. I tried hard to get them to help me 
 carry up the lumber, but nothing would induce them 
 to stay. However, I had now got all the lumber 
 on hand, and set to work to carry and drag it up 
 to the site. 
 
 When I came to lay the foundation of the house, 
 I was at a loss to know just how to go about it, being 
 absolutely without any experience of this kind of 
 work. Still, " necessity is the mother of inven- 
 tion," and my necessity was great enough, in all 
 conscience. I knew, even then, that we could never 
 live through the coming winter in that little iron 
 church. We should simply freeze to death, and there 
 was no other place available. 
 
 Fortunately, at this juncture, the Alert returned 
 to Churchill for a stay of some days, as they had to 
 make up some charts, which could not well be done 
 
 60
 
 The Founding of the Churchill Mission 
 
 at sea. Commander Gordon very kindly offered to 
 lend me three men who had some knowledge of 
 building. They could only give me two days, but 
 were willing to work as long as they could see. As 
 a result of two very long days' work we put together 
 the framework of the house, but on the 20th of 
 August the Alert had to leave, and I was deprived 
 of the assistance of my expert workmen. We owe 
 a very great debt of gratitude to Commander 
 Gordon and Dr. R. Bell, without whose encourage- 
 ment and support the Mission on the western shores 
 of the Bay might, and without doubt would, have 
 been delayed for years, if not given up altogether. 
 
 After the departure of the Alert, I continued to 
 work as hard as possible on the building, sometimes 
 even from fourteen to sixteen hours a day. More 
 than once I was in despair and almost inclined to 
 give in, but my wife would come and hold the boards 
 whilst I fitted them into place, and encouraged 
 me in every possible way. Often I went to bed so 
 tired out that I thought I would never be able to 
 continue, but next morning I was up and at it again. 
 
 The long delay in the arrival of the Company's 
 ship was also a cause of great anxiety at this time. 
 Up to the end of August nothing had been seen or 
 heard of her, and supplies were running very low 
 indeed. Moreover, on the 4th of September we 
 had one of the most furious gales I ever remember, 
 and we felt quite sure that if the ship was anywhere 
 near Churchill she must be in very grave danger, 
 
 61
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post OfBce 
 
 About a week later a ship's boat arrived in the 
 river with the mate of the Ca7n Owen and three men, 
 from whom we learned that the ship had been 
 wrecked on Cape Churchill. On the 4tli of Sep- 
 tember she was becalmed in the Churchill Bight, 
 almost within sight of the river, when all at once 
 the gale came upon her, and in trying to work her 
 way offshore, she struck two or three times on the 
 cape. She began to leak so badly that the pumps 
 could not keep the water down and the captain 
 dared not go out to sea. As the only means of 
 saving his passengers — there being no port for which 
 he could make — he decided to run his vessel ashore 
 and take his chances. This he did about twenty 
 miles south of the cape. 
 
 The coast is very low and shallow, with reefs 
 running all the way along several miles out from 
 shore, and thanks to the abnormally high water at 
 Churchill that night, the tide rose over twenty feet — 
 being nearly eight feet above the normal — she was 
 able to run right up to the beach, and at low water 
 was left high and dry, so that the passengers and 
 crew were able to walk ashore. 
 
 With two of the coast's boats Mr. Spencer, Mr. 
 McTavish the clerk, and I at once started for the 
 wreck to see if we could do anything to help them, 
 and try to save some of the supplies we so greatly 
 needed. They could not possibly leave, as they had 
 only three small boats, and snow had fallen and the 
 coast was lined with ice. 
 
 62
 
 The Founding of the Churchill Mission 
 
 When we reached the wreck we found the whole 
 party safely in camp on shore, including the Rev. 
 G. S. and Mrs. Winter with their one child and a 
 maid, also Dr. Milne, who was coming out as medical 
 man for York. 
 
 A single glance at the vessel enabled us to realize 
 what a terrible experience they must have had. 
 It was obvious at once that the ship was damaged 
 beyond all possibility of repair — in fact, it was a 
 wonder that she had not gone to pieces on the reefs 
 which fringe the coast, and on which she struck 
 several times before reaching the beach. But for 
 the very high tide she must have done this, and in all 
 probability all hands must have been lost, for there 
 was no one to help them on the shore. 
 
 It was decided to send on all the passengers 
 and crew to York in one of the boats we had brought, 
 and as soon as they got off we started to try and 
 save what we could from the wreck. It was a most 
 serious matter for us, since very little of last year's 
 supplies remained at the post, and no other ship 
 could possibly be expected before the following 
 July or August. 
 
 Although one could walk out to the wreck at low 
 water, at high tide she was submerged; conse- 
 quently the greater part of the cargo was spoiled 
 by the water, which was already beginning to freeze 
 ship and cargo into one solid and immovable mass. 
 We managed to save a small quantity of supplies, 
 including a few barrels of damaged flour, with which 
 
 63
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 we returned to Churchill, uncomfortably conscious 
 of the hardships the coming winter had in store for 
 us. Confident as we were of our abihty to endure 
 and to survive the approaching privations, we well 
 knew that we should have to suffer the inconvenience 
 of being without many things which even the 
 poorest consider necessities. 
 
 All this naturally interfered greatly with my 
 building operations. Ten days of the most precious 
 time had been lost and winter was fast approaching. 
 Already there was a foot of snow on the ground, and 
 with the thermometer below zero work in the open 
 was not altogether pleasant. However, by the 
 middle of October we moved into a structure of 
 four walls and a roof, which I had managed to put 
 together. At the very sight of it anyone un- 
 accustomed to life in the north would have thrown 
 up his hands in horror and exclaimed at the im- 
 possibility of attempting to spend a winter in such 
 a house. Yet it was a great improvement on the 
 little iron church, for we could at any rate keep the 
 temperature inside above freezing-point, a thing 
 we had for weeks past been unable to accomplish 
 in our recent abode. 
 
 Mr. R. Munro Ferguson, A.D.C. to Lord Aberdeen, 
 spent some six weeks with us in 1894 in the little 
 mission house, and from an amusing account he 
 wrote of his experiences I append the following 
 extract descriptive of our life at this time: "The 
 missionary strains every nerve and works with 
 
 64
 
 The Founding of the Churchill Mission 
 
 superhuman endurance, sawing the timbers to 
 refit them into phice, and hammering nails like one 
 who means to die hard, for he would freeze in his 
 light, draughty, leaky iron church when it came 
 to be forty or fifty below zero. To hold services, 
 by the way, in this little church, all the furniture 
 had usually to be piled on the bed, and much disin- 
 fecting powder employed after a score or two of 
 Indians and Eskimos had been huddled together in 
 the interior. Just before the first pinch of the fast- 
 coming arctic winter, the rough outline of the house 
 is finished — two rooms, or three, with a partition, 
 all in rough boarding, with only high walls outside — 
 but it was a shelter, and their own home; though 
 most of it was still to be made. They lived there 
 that winter airily; the single windows would freeze 
 over with such a thick coating of frost that they 
 adopted the method of ironing them with a hot iron 
 to let daylight in again. The thermometer in very 
 cold weather would sink to perhaps thirty below 
 zero inside their single-boarded house, and getting 
 up in the morning to light the fires was no joke in 
 such a temperature, unless one happened to be an 
 Eskimo or an Indian." 
 
 To people living in England, or even in the 
 civilized parts of Canada, this account may seem 
 to be very much overdrawn, but to its absolute 
 accuracy both my wife and I can testify. 
 
 65
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 OLD FORT PRINCE OF WALES AND CHURCHILL 
 TRADING POST 
 
 At the mouth of the Churchill River, as it empties 
 itself into Hudson's Bay, on a high sand ridge 
 overlooking the Bay on two sides and guarding 
 the entrance of the river, stands one of the largest 
 and most massive ruins on the North American 
 Continent, scarcely inferior in any detail to Louis- 
 bourg or to Old Quebec. 
 
 This fort was constructed by the Hudson's Bay 
 Company, but is now the property of the Canadian 
 Government. It is built of solid stone, with walls 
 20 feet high and 20 feet wide at the top, streng- 
 thened by four bastions at each of the four corners. 
 Forty-two cannon, of the largest and heaviest 
 calibre of the age, mounted on the walls rendered 
 the task of forcing an entry into the river practically 
 impossible. No hostile warship of the time could 
 have passed through the narrow entrance, at this 
 point but little more than a quarter of a mile wide, 
 for the fort lies close to the river bank, and on the 
 opposite shore stands a battery also equipped with 
 heavy guns. 
 
 The fortifications were commenced in 1733, and 
 66
 
 Old Fort Prince of Wales 
 
 are said to have taken twenty years to build, but 
 this is a very doubtful statement. Within the 
 fort were storehouses, powder magazine, dwelling 
 houses and offices, all of stone. 
 
 Joseph Robson, the surveyor and builder, was 
 brought out from England for this purpose: he 
 describes one of the buildings inside the fort as 
 being loi feet long, 33 feet wide, and 17 feet high, 
 with leaded roof. 
 
 For many years the chief factor in charge of Fort 
 Churchill was Samuel Hearne, the well-known 
 arctic explorer. He made two expeditions into 
 the north country in 1769 and 1770, but was driven 
 back each time by lack of provisions, or by the 
 desertion of the Indians with whom he was travelling, 
 but in 1772 he succeeded in making his way across 
 country, with a large band of Chipewyan Indians, 
 to the mouth of the Coppermine River. Here 
 the Indians fell in with a small party of Eskimos 
 and massacred every one of them. Hearne was 
 unable to protect them, as he was in fear of the 
 Indians. Thus, for the first time, the mysteries 
 of the hitherto unknown arctic coasts were pene- 
 trated. 
 
 Ten years later, in 1782, whilst Hearne was still 
 in charge of Fort Churchill, three French men-of-war 
 under Admiral La Perouse appeared in Hudson's 
 Bay and anchored off the fort. On the following 
 day La Perouse landed 400 men and summoned the 
 fort to surrender. Hearne seems to have capitu- 
 
 67
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 latcd without attempting to strike a blow in its 
 defence: possibly he argued that he was not a 
 soldier fighting for the defence of his country, but 
 a " rat-catcher " working for the good of a fur 
 company. 
 
 For two days the French soldiers tried to demolish 
 the fort, but were unable to do much more than 
 spike and dismantle the guns, overthrow the top 
 row of the massive granite stones, and blow up 
 a small part of the western side and the gateway 
 with its stone outworks. 
 
 Samuel Hearne was carried off to France as a 
 prisoner-of-war, doubtless together with all the furs 
 he had managed to gather together for the Company. 
 Thus " Old Fort Prince of Wales," the pride of the 
 north country, was left a deserted ruin: yet it still 
 stands in much the same condition as that in which 
 La Perouse left it in 1782. 
 
 After the capture of Fort Prince of Wales, the 
 Company made no attempt to rebuild, but sent in 
 a bill to the British Government for some thousands 
 of pounds for failing to protect their factory at 
 Churchill. This was paid, I believe, by the French 
 Government. Then the Company built a small 
 wooden fort on the site of the present trading post, 
 5 miles up the river. 
 
 This post is situated on the shore of a small bay, 
 well sheltered from the north by the high ridge 
 of rocks which separate the Churchill River from 
 Button's Bay. The river opposite the fort is nearly 
 
 68
 
 Old Fort Prince of Wales 
 
 five miles wide, but, as the channel at low water 
 is less than one mile, the boulder-strewn mud-flats 
 prevent the approach of any boat except at high 
 tide. 
 
 When I first visited Churchill in 1884 portions of 
 the stockade of the fort were still standing, but now 
 these have all disappeared, and there is no sign 
 whatever of any fort. 
 
 The winter is, of course, very long and very severe 
 at Churchill, and the snowfall heavy. According to 
 meteorological records Churchill is, I believe, the 
 coldest place in Canada, taking the mean of the 
 three winter months. 
 
 Whilst the stockades remained they were usually 
 completely covered with snow to the depth of 8 or 
 10 feet ; through these snow-banks it was a common 
 thing to cut tunnels and pathways to the various 
 houses and stores, so that often the master did not 
 have to go out into the open to get from one place 
 to another. Many of the houses would be quite 
 buried, and had to be dug out two or three times 
 during the winter. Now the palisades have all 
 been removed, and with them the high snow-drifts 
 have disappeared. 
 
 The seasons of the year differ greatly from those 
 of Southern Canada, or even from the climate 
 south in James's Bay. It was frequently said that 
 at Churchill we had only two seasons, " nine months' 
 winter, and three months' bad weather," but I have 
 
 69
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 also heard another description, which fits equally 
 well: " Nine months' winter, and three months' 
 flies." 
 
 Summer and winter follow each other so closely 
 that spring and autumn can scarcely be said to 
 exist. By the middle of October the marshes are 
 always frozen over, and usually the whole country 
 is covered with snow, sometimes to the depth of a 
 foot or more. The river generally becomes ice- 
 bound by the end of October, though one may not 
 be able to cross before the middle or end of No- 
 vember. Once frozen, even the spring tides, which 
 often rise to a height of 14 or 1 6 feet, have no effect 
 on the ice, which is often 6 or more feet thick. 
 Not until mid- June can the sun compel the frost to 
 relax its hold. The average date of the opening of 
 the river for some ten years was the 20th of June, 
 but the ice often floats in and out of the river up 
 to the middle of July, and snow-banks may be seen 
 even in August. 
 
 Myriads of mosquitoes and black flics plague the 
 luckless inhabitants throughout the short summer- 
 In no place in the world are mosquitoes worse than 
 on the western shores of Hudson's Bay, and at 
 Churchill in particular. 
 
 In 1884, when the Hudson's Bay ship had to 
 winter at Churchill, the mate, an old salt who had 
 been in nearly all known parts of the world, would 
 not believe that mosquitoes could be bad in such 
 a cold country. The following July, when they began 
 
 70
 
 Old Fort Prince of Wales 
 
 to get their ship out of her winter quarters, he would 
 not be persuaded to wear gloves and veil, as even 
 the natives are obliged to do, but went down 
 to the ship without any such protection, saying he 
 was not an old woman, and knew what mosquitoes 
 were. It was murky weather and a lovely day for 
 flies. The old man worked on for a time wiping the 
 flies off in handfuls, but at last he could stand it 
 no longer, and throwing down his spade, with some 
 very strong language, he made tracks for the fort, 
 two miles away, as fast as he could go ; the first thing 
 he did was to go into the store and buy gloves and 
 a veil, saying he thought he knew what flies were, 
 but he had never seen any so bloodthirsty as this lot. 
 
 One writer declares that " they (the mosquitoes) 
 crowd in such numbers at Churchill as to crush 
 one another to death, and the victims lie sometimes 
 in such heaps that they have to be swept out twice 
 a day. Nothing but the north-east or the north- 
 west wind, bringing with it the chill of the ice-fields, 
 gives relief from these tormentors." There is a 
 certain amount of humorous exaggeration in this 
 account, but it can safely be asserted that no descrip- 
 tion adequately represents the annoyance and 
 irritation caused by these pests of the northern 
 summer. 
 
 As I have already said, the country in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Churchill is very rocky and almost 
 treeless. In consequence of this firewood is very 
 difficult to get anywhere near the place. A plentiful 
 
 71
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 supply can be obtained some fifty miles inland, 
 but this cannot be hauled home in winter, and the 
 Churchill River is a very difficult one to get a raft 
 down. 
 
 Attempts have been made to raise vegetables, 
 but with very poor results. A few turnips and 
 lettuces have been grown, but potatoes and other 
 root crops are out of the question; they cannot be 
 put into the ground before June, and any time in 
 July they may be frozen. It is my firm conviction 
 that no land within loo miles of Churchill could 
 be farmed or used for grazing purposes with any 
 prospect of success. 
 
 But the landscape is by no means bleak and 
 colourless during the short summer. The whole 
 country seems to be covered with wild flowers, 
 which spring up quickly, and almost as quickly 
 die away. Between thirty and forty specimens 
 of arctic flowers were gathered in one season by my 
 daughter, and Mrs. Moody, of the Royal North- West 
 Mounted Police, collected many more. 
 
 72
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 FOUR HUNDRED MILES ON SNOW-SHOES TO CONSULT 
 A DOCTOR 
 
 The work of the Mission at Churchill progressed 
 quietly and steadily. In addition to the Eskimos 
 and Indians, there were about sixty English-speaking 
 people at the fort. The natives stayed at the post 
 or in its neighbourhood only during the short 
 summer; in the winter they were scattered through- 
 out the surrounding country for hundreds of miles, 
 supported entirely by their hunting and fishing, 
 this being the only way of making a living in the 
 north country. 
 
 The missionary was expected to be able to extract 
 teeth, to set, and even to amputate, limbs, and to 
 prescribe remedies for all the ills to which the flesh 
 is heir. Not only was he a medical practitioner as 
 well as a missionary, but he had also to act as his 
 own joiner, builder, blacksmith, bricklayer, mason, 
 or other skilled workman. Then again he was often 
 called upon to visit a sick Indian or Eskimo a 
 hundred miles away, which entailed a long and 
 trying walk on snow-shoes and an absence of many 
 days or even weeks. 
 
 I well remember on one occasion paying a short 
 1Z
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 visit to some Indians staying about thirty miles 
 north of Churchill. Although we were then in the 
 middle of May, everything was still frozen solid. 
 After walking across Button's Bay, over very rough 
 ice, for about four hours, we at last reached an 
 Indian tent in which we found a man, his wife, two 
 daughters, and a son-in-law. 
 
 Ten days before, when they had left the post, 
 the old woman, who had only one eye, was suffering 
 terribly from snow-blindness, and I had given her 
 some lotion. I now found her sitting at the back 
 of the tent moaning with pain, and her eye bound up. 
 Upon taking off this bandage to examine her eye, 
 I was horrified to find the eyeball oozing from its 
 socket. When I asked her for an explanation of 
 this she very quietly replied, " Oh, Yalty (minister), 
 the pain was so great, I got my daughter Aggie to 
 cut it in order to let out some of the pain." This 
 her daughter had done with a pair of scissors. My 
 anger and amazement may be imagined. The poor 
 old soul was now totally blind, and being very feeble 
 was entirely dependent upon her family. There was 
 really nothing to be done, the eye was gone and 
 could not be replaced ; all that one could do was to 
 get the eyeball out and let the wound heal. Some 
 years after I discovered that this same woman had 
 lost the other eye in exactly the same way. I was 
 very glad she did not tell me at the time, or I think 
 I should hardly have known what to do. Snow- 
 blindness is certainly one of the most painful things 
 
 74
 
 Four Hundred Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 I know, but the insane folly of this barbarous act 
 is almost incredible, yet I can vouch for its truth. 
 
 I determined to stay the night with these Indians, 
 not that I could do anything for the poor woman : 
 that was past the skill of man. We were encamped 
 right down upon the seashore, without any shelter 
 except an Indian tent. During the night a very 
 severe gale came on, and it snowed for all it was worth ; 
 next morning the snow had drifted so much into the 
 tent that we were all buried under it. A frightful 
 blizzard was raging so that we could not venture 
 out, and as usual with Indians there was hardly 
 a stick of firewood, and none to be got within less 
 than two miles; this was by no means the worst, for 
 there was hardly a bite of anything to eat. Indians 
 always live a very happy-go-lucky, hand-to-mouth 
 existence when out hunting. My own supply of 
 food was intended to last me for about a week, but 
 it did not go far amongst so large a party: the gale 
 continued for two whole days, and we dared not go 
 out. I cannot recollect two more miserable days 
 in my life. 
 
 On the third day the snow ceased, and as we had 
 nothing at all to eat, I set out to visit the Indians 
 who had asked me to come; they were encamped 
 about ten miles farther up the coast. I started 
 without anything more solid than a cup of tea, and 
 the walking was very heavy. When I reached the 
 camp I found all the Indians in pretty much the 
 same state as we had been; they had not been able 
 
 75
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 to hunt, consequently the cupboard was bare. In 
 going round the tents I found one man who had 
 shot a goose that morning, and when I told them 
 I had nothing to eat before starting that morning, 
 they at onoe set to work to cook the goose, and I 
 had my first meal for twenty-four hours. It was 
 only, as we say in the north, " goose straight " — that 
 is, " goose boiled in white water," without condi- 
 ments, dressing, etc., and eaten without either 
 vegetables, bread, or anything — but I enjoyed that 
 goose far better than many served up with all the 
 elaborate dressings of civilization. Truly " hunger 
 is the best sauce." 
 
 After spending the day in visiting the tents and 
 holding service I returned in the evening to the blind 
 woman's tent, as by so doing I hoped to meet with 
 other Indians from still farther north. When I 
 got back I found that the two men had been out all 
 day in their "goose stands," but had got nothing; 
 consequently, after prayers and a drink of tea, we 
 went supperless to bed, in the hope that next day 
 would bring better luck. 
 
 In the morning the men were up and off by day- 
 light, but returned about eight o'clock with nothing, 
 and we breakfasted upon prayers and coffee. This 
 scanty meal over, and prospects not looking very 
 bright, I decided to make tracks for home: the 
 people begged me to stay, as they would be sure 
 to get something to eat during the day. As the 
 other Indians had not turned up I thought I had 
 
 76
 
 Four Hundred Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 better depart, so about ten o'clock I started out for 
 my 20-mile walk. It was a day to be remembered, 
 beautifully fine, and so warm that the snow melted, 
 and I had to plough through slush and water. I 
 became quite played out, and had to lie down many 
 times to rest on the wet snow. 
 
 I reached home late that night utterly exhausted; 
 for thirty hours I had been without food, and in that 
 time had walked through untrodden snow and 
 slush for 30 miles. This is not at all an uncommon 
 thing for an Indian, but whatever it may be to him, 
 it was by no means a pleasant thing to me. 
 
 The absence of a medical man was felt severely 
 at times, though, as a rule, the health of the place 
 was very good. The nearest doctor was at York 
 Factory, 200 miles away. There was not a single 
 death during our first two years at Churchill; still, 
 the knowledge was ever present that in the event 
 of serious illness professional assistance was im- 
 possible. 
 
 I did what I could with my small medicine chest, 
 but a qualified doctor was undoubtedly a necessity. 
 The following spring the birth of our only child 
 took place, and there was neither doctor nor nurse to 
 be had, the missionary as usual being both; my 
 wife's health became far from satisfactory, and, as 
 her case baffled such medical skill as I possessed, I 
 sent a message twice asking the doctor to come on 
 to Churchill, but for some reason he failed to appear, 
 although there were two chances for him to do so. 
 
 n
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 We waited until the following December, and then, 
 two Indians having come on from York Factory, 
 I determined to go and see the doctor in person. 
 
 We started on the 6th of December, in fine but 
 bitterly cold weather; of course, we had to tramp, as 
 I could not spare my dogs — they were needed to 
 keep the fires going. As luck would have it, the 
 Indians lost their way, and we wandered many miles 
 out of our course. It is often said that an Indian 
 is never lost and this is true in a sense, for they 
 generally reach their destination in the end; but it 
 frequently happens that an Indian will wander 
 about for hours, and even for days, before arriving 
 at his journey's end, yet he rightly tells you he is 
 not lost, but merely gone astray. I remember one 
 Indian I knew who, when met thus wandering about, 
 and asked if he were lost, replied, " No, me no lost, 
 wigwam lost." 
 
 Owing to a severe gale and the heavy snow, we 
 were detained in one spot for two days, completely 
 buried by the whirling blizzard, sheltered only by 
 our blankets, and in a most miserable condition. 
 When we reached the Nelson River we found it 
 still open, and this meant a heavy tramp up the 
 north shore, until we found the river frozen and 
 could cross, and then down the south shore again 
 until we were opposite York Factory. 
 
 The journey occupied eleven days, almost twice 
 as long as usual, and I was deeply thankful to find 
 rest and a bed with my fellow-missionary and his 
 
 78
 
 Four Hundred Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 family. I succeeded in persuading the doctor to 
 return with me ; he said he could not possibly walk, 
 so I got a team of Indian dogs and drove him back. 
 
 Our journey of a week was not particularly 
 pleasant, for it was bitterly cold and every one in 
 the party was rather badly frozen. I remember 
 well we spent Christmas Day on one of the large 
 desolate plains which lie between the trading posts. 
 I had been away for twenty-one days, and did not 
 know in what state we might find my wife, but, 
 thank God, she was keeping up fairly well. 
 
 The doctor examined her, and said he could do 
 little or nothing, as she must have an operation 
 which he would not perform there; she must go to 
 England. This was not very cheering news, as 
 there was no possibility of making a start for England 
 until the annual ship came in August, and what 
 might happen in nine months no one could say. 
 In any circumstances, we could not hope to reach 
 England before the end of October or even November. 
 
 Truly the north country does teach patience and 
 fortitude. 
 
 79
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A SEVEN-THOUSAND-MILE JOURNEY TO ENGLAND 
 
 Throughout the rest of the winter and spring my 
 wife maintained her wonted cheerfuhiess, and was 
 able to keep about although in very feeble health 
 all the time. All our Indians and Eskimos came in 
 as usual, and we had a very busy time, but our hearts 
 and minds were to a large extent fixed upon the 
 coming of the ship, and with it the hope of reaching 
 surgical aid. 
 
 She did not reach Churchill until about the 20th 
 of August, and we were glad to find an old friend of 
 my wife's as captain. We set sail for home on the 
 24th, but had first to go on to York Factory, and, 
 as on our wedding trip, fell in with very bad weather ; 
 we were some ten days beating up and down the 
 coast, and my wife was very ill indeed; so much so, 
 that when we did at last reach York, Captain B., 
 although most kind and anxious to help, felt obliged 
 to refuse to take my wife any further. He was 
 of the opinion that as the vessel was altogether 
 lacking in proper accommodation for an invalid, 
 with a sixteen-months-old baby, Mrs. L. would 
 never stand the strain, and he did not want to bury 
 her at sea. We were obliged, therefore, to leave 
 
 80
 
 Seven-Thousand-Mile Journey to England 
 
 the ship at York. The only alternative was to remain 
 at York for the winter or take a journey of some six 
 hundred miles by canoe to Winnipeg, and then 
 overland to New York, an exceedingly risky under- 
 taking at that time of the year, for with the approach 
 of winter we were liable to be frozen in before we 
 reached Winnipeg, In any case, the venture would 
 tax to the utmost the endurance of my wife and 
 child. There seemed to be no way out of the diffi- 
 culty. We had been waiting nine months, and what 
 the result of another wait of nine months might be 
 no one could tell, and so we decided to run the risk 
 and try to get through. We therefore hired a 
 small fiat-bottomed boat and four Indians and 
 started out on the 14th of September, making our 
 way by the usual canoe route up the Hayes, Fox, 
 and Hill Rivers to Oxford House, which we reached 
 in thirteen days. We were indeed thankful to 
 enjoy a good night's rest in a bed, under a roof, after 
 many days of travelling cooped up in a very small 
 boat from 5 a.m. till dusk. 
 
 On the whole, the weather had been fine, but at 
 times we had to push on through rain, hail, and 
 snow. This bad weather, combined with sleeping 
 in the woods, without much comfort, was not bene- 
 ficial to my wife's health, but she kept up very well, 
 and was always bright and happy. 
 
 Our men had to return from Oxford, and we got 
 other Indians and a birchbark canoe, which was even 
 smaller than our boat, and on the 5th of October 
 
 81 F
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 we started for Norway House. For several days we 
 travelled under wretched conditions, but were obliged 
 to push on, and at last reached Norway House at 
 the head of Lake Winnipeg. There was no steamer, 
 and the only way of getting into Winnipeg was by 
 taking a York boat, and, after resting some five 
 days, we started. This last stage of our journey 
 to civilization was by far the most arduous and 
 exasperating. No man wilHngly puts out on Lake 
 Winnipeg in an open boat in October, for the stonns 
 are generally constant and severe. If we could reach 
 Beren's River we might possibly catch a small 
 steamer there, and we pushed on with this hope, 
 but spent six most trying days before we got there, 
 only to find that the steamer had been in a few 
 days before and would not call again. She had gone 
 to the north end of the lake, and was to call at 
 " Swampy Island " on her way back. This was 
 some twenty miles out from Berens River, and we 
 at once put out again with the hope of catching 
 her. We had run into this harbour under a coming 
 gale, and when we got back to the mouth of the river 
 it was blowing so hard that we dared not face it. 
 Our last hope seemed shattered, but as these gales 
 on the lake frequently subside as rapidly as they 
 arise, we put ashore on a small barren rock in the 
 mouth of the river, so that we might be ready to 
 cross if the gale did go down. It was no place even 
 for a brief soj ourn ; there was scarcely a stick of wood 
 on the islet, and no shelter from the wind, but in 
 
 82
 
 Seven-Thousand-Mile Journey to England 
 
 our anxiety to reach Swampy Island we determined 
 to stay there. 
 
 For two days and nights we held out on that 
 barren spot, without firewood, rain, sleet, and snow 
 falling the whole time, so that we were nearly frozen. 
 At the end of the second day we were forced to 
 abandon our position, and run before the gale to 
 the mainland for shelter and a fire, as there seemed 
 little or no hope of our getting much further on our 
 journey. During that night the gale began to go 
 down, and in the early morning the lake was almost 
 calm. At 3 a.m. on a cold, clear morning with bright 
 moonlight we put out for "Swampy." The only 
 settlement on the island was a small fishing station, 
 and we had no idea where it was situated. As the 
 island is 20 miles long, we expected some diffi- 
 culty in finding the shanties. The moon went 
 down, and it was pitch dark when we at last struck 
 the island; it had taken us six hours to cross. The 
 water froze on our oars, and my wife and child 
 suffered greatly from the cold. At last, shortly 
 after daylight, we sighted the fishing station, and 
 at once knew the steamer had not been in yet, for 
 we saw Mr. J. W. McLean (" Big Bear ") standing 
 on the jetty. He had crossed from Berens River 
 some days before us in order to catch the steamer, 
 which had promised to call there for him. Much of 
 our pain and suffering was at once forgotten, for 
 there was still a prospect of getting into Winnipeg. 
 Our Indians were most anxious to get back to 
 83
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Noi^way House, and woiiKl not even huul to have a 
 cup of tea, a most unusual tiling for thcni; the 
 weather was so threatening, lu)\v(."\-er, that thr\' were 
 afraid of being frozen in before they eoukl reach 
 home. 
 
 The only liabitable building on the island was a 
 large fish refrigerator from which all the ice liad been 
 removed, and some degree of coiufurl was supplied 
 by a small cooking-stove. For this we were indebted 
 to Mr. McLean and two or three hsliiug men, wlu) 
 were stranded there like ourselves. 
 
 In this refrigerator, where privacy was out of the 
 question, we lived for three days, and it seemed as 
 if we should have to stay there until the lake froze 
 over, which would not be nuich before Christmas. 
 Snow fell every day, antl the ground was covered to 
 the depth of more than a foot. 
 
 We had no food, but fortunately one of the men 
 had some potatoes, and we managed to get fish from 
 the lake, although it was the close season. On the 
 morning of our fourth da}' the steanu^r hove in 
 sight, and we rejoiced greatly at the thouglit of re- 
 lease. She had been detained by the gale, so what 
 had seenKcl a trial, as is often the case, turned out 
 to be a blessing. The day afti^- h\uing Swampy 
 we landed in Selkirk, and we felt that now we had 
 reached civilization all our trials were practically 
 over. We spent two days there resting, and then 
 went into Winnipeg, and took the niglit train for 
 New York, without troubling to visit Niagara Falls 
 
 84
 
 Seven-Thousand-Mile Journey to England 
 
 on the way, and on the 30tli of October embarked 
 on board the Arizona, and landed in England on 
 the 8th of November, having taken almost three 
 months in travelling the 7,000 miles. 
 
 Only those who have been through a similar 
 experience can form any idea of the strain this 
 journey had been to us all, more especially to my 
 wife, who endured the hardships we had undergone 
 with the greatest fortitude. Our little daughter was 
 extremely ill in crossing the Atlantic, so much so 
 that for some days she hung between life and death ; 
 but, thank God, she was restored to complete health 
 when we finally reached home. 
 
 Immediately upon our arrival in England, early in 
 November, my wife was placed in the hands of a 
 surgeon, by whose skill a completely successful 
 operation was performed; but her health greatly 
 suffered, so that when I arranged to return — at the 
 end of seven months' vacation chiefly spent in 
 deputation work for the Church Missionary Society, 
 and in raising money for a new church, which we 
 greatly needed for our mission station — I suggested 
 that she should remain behind and rejoin me in the 
 following year. This plan she would not consent 
 to, and it was finally decided that we should all 
 return together in the summer. 
 
 On the 2ist of June, therefore, we left our home 
 to join the Hudson's Bay Company's sailing vessel 
 at Stromness. We stayed for an hour in Edinburgh, 
 and also in Perth, and spent the night in Inverness, 
 
 S5
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 where we had an opportunity of admiring the 
 lovely situation of the Highland capital. From 
 Inverness we enjoyed the magnificent scenery along 
 the route of the East Coast Railway, and the night 
 boat from Thurso landed us in Stromness in the 
 early hours of the morning. 
 
 The next ten days were spent in visiting places of 
 interest in the neighbourhood of the quaint old 
 town; for though our vessel, the Prince Rupert, of 
 500 tons, had come into the harbour two days 
 before we arrived, she had to wait for her sister ship, 
 the Lady Head, bound for Moose Fort, which had not 
 yet reached the harbour. 
 
 On the 3rd of July we sailed away from Strom- 
 ness, passing through Hoy Sound into the Northern 
 Atlantic, where we got a splendid view of Rona, a 
 lofty precipitous rock on which only a few sheep 
 and innumerable gulls could be seen. The latter, 
 when disturbed, gave quite a snowy appearance to 
 the cliffs. 
 
 Whilst running close under the south coast of 
 Greenland, on our twelfth day at sea, we encountered 
 a heavy gale, which carried away some thirty feet 
 of the ship's railing. Fortunately no other damage 
 was done. Cape Chidley, the southern headland, 
 rose up before us at the entrance of Hudson's Strait 
 like a grim sentinel of the desolate northern fast- 
 nesses. 
 
 We soon found ourselves surrounded by numerous 
 icebergs of all shapes and sizes : I counted no less than 
 
 86
 
 Seven-Thousand-Mile Journey to England 
 
 forty enormous bergs in plain sight on one occasion. 
 The ice crunched and ground against the vessel's 
 sides with a menacing sound, calculated to terrify 
 the inexperienced arctic voyager. 
 
 About forty miles up the Strait, a thick fog 
 enveloped us, through which nothing was visible 
 100 yards away, and for three days we were 
 anchored to ice-floes. When at last it lifted and we 
 were able to take our bearings, we found that we 
 were some twenty miles outside the Strait, having 
 drifted with the ice some sixty miles. We con- 
 sidered ourselves very fortunate not to have struck 
 any of the many rocks to the south of the Strait. 
 It took us nearly a month to work our way through 
 the Strait into Hudson's Bay. On the way we 
 had a magnificent view of Grinnell's Glacier, which 
 we could quite plainly see with the glasses sparkling 
 in the sun, though 50 miles away. 
 
 On the 22nd of August, after a splendid run 
 across the Bay, we sighted the rocks of the Churchill 
 River, and at midday were safely at anchor in the 
 snug little harbour, within 5 miles of our little 
 wooden shanty, having been just fifty days on the 
 voyage out from Stromness. We had been away a 
 year all but four days. Everything was just as we 
 had left it; our house had remained closed and un- 
 disturbed, and the same familiar faces greeted us 
 delightedly as we landed. 
 
 During our short stay in England I had suc- 
 ceeded in raising £200, with which we had pur-
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 chased a small iron church, but the Hudson's Bay 
 Company were not able to bring it out that year, 
 and we had still to occupy the old dilapidated 
 church in summer, using our house for all services 
 during the winter and also for day-school. 
 
 Most of the Eskimos and Indians had left for 
 their northern hunting-grounds before our arrival, 
 only a few of the Chipewyans staying behind to 
 welcome us back amongst them. 
 
 88
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE CHIPEWYAN INDIAN OF THE NORTH 
 
 The " Chips," as we somewhat disrespectfully term 
 them, are the most northerly of the Indians found 
 on Hudson's Bay, and seldom come south of Cape 
 Churchill. They are a peculiarly sullen and reserved 
 race, much more so than the Crees or Ojibways. 
 Any feeling or expression of gratitude is foreign 
 to their nature, and of the gentle amenities and 
 gracious courtesies of social intercourse they are 
 absolutely ignorant. Their language, indeed, seems 
 even to lack the commonest phrases of appreciation 
 or thanks. 
 
 This aloofness and stolid indifference made the 
 task of winning their confidence exceedingly diffi- 
 cult, and my wife and I doubted at first whether 
 we should ever succeed in gaining their trust and 
 friendship. It was not until we began to care for 
 some of their sick in our own home that we dis- 
 covered very warm hearts and feelings beneath 
 their impassive demeanour. 
 
 I have seen it stated that " the Chipewyan Indian 
 is naturally the roughest, harshest savage to be 
 found on the Continent; his disposition is sullen 
 and morose." On first coming into contact with 
 
 89
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 him I heartily concurred with this view: it is the 
 impression invariably received from a first super- 
 ficial acquaintance with the race. But this un- 
 attractive characteristic is, I believe, largely the 
 result of the rough hand-to-mouth existence which 
 they lead; the stern battle of life is fought under 
 conditions which tend to wipe out all emotional 
 display. A stolid immobility of expression and 
 character is the natural outcome of their perpetual 
 conflict with the forces of Nature. When one 
 comes to know them better they display many 
 points of interest: their characters exhibit traces 
 of a simple nobility not always found in more 
 favoured races. 
 
 An enormous stretch of country was at one time 
 peopled by Indians of the Chipewyan stock. The 
 extent of this expansion is concisely described by 
 Butler in his "Wild West." He says: "The 
 Chipewyans are found at Churchill on Hudson's 
 Bay and at Fort Simpson on the rugged coast of 
 New Caledonia; but, stranger still, far down in 
 Arizona and Mexico, even as far south as Nicaragua, 
 the guttural language of the Chipewyan race is still 
 heard, and the wild Navajos and fierce Apache 
 horsemen of the Mexican plains are akin to the 
 fur-hunters of the north. Of the many ramifica- 
 tions of the Indian race this perhaps is the most 
 extraordinary. 
 
 " To the east of the Rocky Mountains these races 
 call themselves ' Tinne ' (at Churchill, ' Dinna '), 
 
 90
 
 The Chipewyan Indian of the North 
 
 a name which signifies ' people,' with that sublimity 
 of ignorance which makes most savage people 
 imagine themselves the sole proprietors of the earth. 
 Many subdivisions exist amongst them; these are 
 the Copper Indians and Dog Ribs of the Barren 
 Grounds; the Louchen or Kutchins, a fierce tribe 
 of the Upper Yukon; the Yellow Knives, Hares, 
 Nahanies, and Sickanies, of the Great Slave Lake; 
 the Chipewyans of Athabasca and Portage la Roche; 
 and the Beavers of the Peace River. 
 
 " West of the Rocky Mountains the Carriers, still 
 a branch of the Chipewyan stock, intermingle with 
 the numerous Atnah races of the coast. On the 
 North Saskatchewan a small wild tribe called 
 Surcees also spring from this great family, and, as 
 we have said, nearly three thousand miles away, far 
 down on the tropic plains of Old Mexico, the stutter- 
 ing ' tch ' accent grates upon the ear. Spread 
 over such a vast extent of country it may well be 
 supposed that they vary very much in physiog- 
 nomy." 
 
 Many curious legends are current amongst them, 
 several of which I collected at various times during 
 my residence amongst them at Churchill. As in 
 the myths of many other savage races there is a 
 rather bewildering inconsequence of incident in 
 these stories, most of which derive their origin 
 from the evolutions and phenomena of Nature. 
 The mythologist and antiquary could doubtless 
 trace to a common source the inner signification of 
 
 91
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 many of these stories. I give the following frag- 
 mentary tale as a specimen: 
 
 " In the beginning there were no men; but the 
 animals resembled men in that they could speak. 
 When they possessed the power of speech it was 
 summer, and winter when they lost it. A squirrel 
 foretold the coming of winter, whereupon they all 
 began to cry. Then they ascended into the sky 
 to meet an all-powerful being who dwelt there, 
 by whom they were ordered to return again to the 
 earth. He informed them further that his son was 
 upon the earth ' to watch the deer crossing the 
 river.' 
 
 " Now the mysterious person who watched the 
 river told a mouse that when the deer appeared he 
 would go out in a canoe and kill some of them. 
 The deer, becoming acquainted with these evil 
 intentions, said to the mouse, ' When you see the 
 evil-minded slayer coming in his canoe do you swim 
 out and bite his paddle in the middle so that he 
 may upset before he reaches us.' The mouse did 
 so and the canoe upset, but the occupant succeeded 
 in gaining the shore. 
 
 "A bag was found by the deer in the canoe, and 
 it contained summer. Thereupon they followed the 
 man-spirit to a certain place from which they could 
 see his father in the sky. When they had all 
 ascended into the sky again the bag was opened, 
 and out tumbled all kinds of fish. A jack-fish came 
 forth first, and under his leadership all the fish and 
 
 92
 
 The Chlpewyan Indian of the North 
 
 animals set out to find the earth again. The fissure 
 through which they made their exit from the sky 
 seemed to close up behind them. 
 
 " Whilst they were still in search of the earth, 
 and just before they found it, a second partition 
 of the bag burst open, thereby letting out summer or 
 heat. The snow, which at that time covered the 
 earth, immediately melted and the land became 
 flooded, except on one spot, whereon they beheld 
 another man-like being. At their request he drank 
 up the water and saved them from the flood. But 
 there was now no water to be found anywhere. 
 
 " Thereupon a lynx came to him and said, ' My 
 grandfather, the earth is now so dry that neither 
 I nor any of the animals can travel on it for want 
 of water: we shall die of thirst. Tell me where 
 you have put all the water.' Upon learning that he 
 had drunk it the lynx obtained permission to place 
 a pan upon the part of his body where the water lay. 
 At once it began to flow over the earth again in rivers, 
 the courses of which were traced by the swallower 
 with his staff. 
 
 " Being now without food the animals began to 
 die of starvation, and especially the deer. Summer- 
 hawks were to be seen watching for the deer, whose 
 presence was indicated by the number of crows 
 hovering over them. The wolves, foxes, and other 
 animals which prey upon the deer also took advan- 
 tage of this sign, but many of them died before they 
 came up with the deer. When the remainder 
 
 93
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 arrived they discovered that a partition made from 
 the tripe and inner fat of the deer separated them 
 from their prey, but a whiskey- jack picked a hole 
 in it and brought out some fat for his friends. The 
 lynx then poked his nose through the opening and 
 received such a blow from a deer that he has had a 
 short dinted snout ever since. Soon afterwards 
 the deer issued forth from their refuge and spread 
 over the earth. All these events happened before 
 the creation of man." 
 
 94
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE BUILDING OF A CHURCH IN THE NORTH 
 
 During the winter of 1887 the work of the Mission 
 at Churchill seemed to make very satisfactory 
 progress. The people of the fort encouraged and 
 aided us most wilHngly, and the Eskimos and 
 Indians in their periodic visits to the trading post 
 evinced a real genuine desire to learn more and 
 more about the loving-kindness of the great and 
 good Father, in whom they unconsciously believed. 
 
 Their standard of bodily cleanliness, in spite of 
 marked improvement, was, however, still so far from 
 perfect that their presence for service in our little 
 three-roomed house was not altogether an unmixed 
 blessing. The only way we could at all stand it was 
 to get there first, and gradually become accustomed 
 to the rank atmosphere. Then, as soon as service 
 was over, we opened the windows and rushed 
 outside; we could not stay out long, for in winter, 
 even if the thermometer was up to sixty in the 
 house, with the windows open it would drop down 
 to freezing-point in about five minutes. 
 
 Consequently we hailed with joy the arrival of 
 the ship in August, 1890, for she had on board the 
 iron church purchased in England the previous year. 
 
 95
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 The task of unloading the mass of timber and iron 
 from the ship, which was anchored 5 miles away 
 from the Mission, was no light one, but by the end 
 of the month I was in a position to begin the con- 
 struction of the building. Of course, all the material 
 had been cut and fitted in England; nevertheless, 
 the putting together of such a building, measuring 
 50 feet by 25 feet, was hard work for one man. 
 
 Unfortunately, one day in September, when the 
 outside was rapidly nearing completion, and I was 
 at work on the chancel, I lost my footing and fell a 
 distance of 12 feet on to the floor beams, seriously 
 fracturing two of my ribs and shaking me up 
 terribly. With the assistance of a boy of twelve, 
 who happened to be with me, I managed to crawl 
 to the house, where my wife bound up my injuries 
 as well as she was able. There was no hope of 
 obtaining the help of a doctor, as even the journey 
 of 200 miles to York Factory was impossible at that 
 time of the year. 
 
 I had to remain in bed for ten days, fretting and 
 fuming at the enforced suspension of my work, for 
 the state of the church was such that the whole 
 building would probably be carried away once the 
 winter gales began. It was most difficult to practise 
 the patience and resignation so easily preached. 
 At the end of ten days I was back again at work on 
 the church, though scarcely able to walk, but there 
 was no one else to turn to, and I was most anxious 
 to finish the outside and shut it up, so that it would 
 
 96
 
 The Building or a Church in the North 
 
 not be blown away during the winter. Naturally 
 I suffered a good deal from my injured ribs during 
 this hard work, but it is wonderful what one can 
 stand when there is no way out. The autumn was 
 very mild, and by the end of October I had so far 
 completed the building that I could suspend opera- 
 tions on it for the winter without any misgivings 
 for its safety. We had no stove to heat the church 
 with, and even if we had had, it would have been 
 no use, for it would have taken me all my time to 
 haul firewood for it, so work had to stop. 
 
 It is a common saying that misfortunes never 
 come singly, and in our case the second misfortune 
 threatened at one time to be most serious. 
 
 On the 2ist of November one of the terrible 
 winter gales so frequent at Churchill came upon us 
 with most savage fury. Our Indian boy was on 
 his way down to the house one evening during the 
 gale, and when passing the church he was nearly 
 knocked over by a board torn from the church roof. 
 Looking up he discovered that half of one side of the 
 roof had disappeared, and came and told us of this. 
 Donning my Eskimo costume I fought my way 
 through the storm to inspect the extent of the 
 disaster, and found one of the doors had been burst 
 open by the gale and about twenty feet of one side 
 of the roof nowhere to be seen — it had evidently 
 been carried away on to the river some quarter of 
 a mile away; the other half of the same side had 
 slipped down about a foot, but still remained on the 
 
 97 G
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 building. Assistance was hurriedly obtained from 
 the fort, and for two hours we worked in that 
 blinding gale, and anchor-chains and ropes were 
 passed over the roof to keep it in place if possible. 
 There was nothing else that could be done, and I 
 then returned dejected and disconsolate to my wife, 
 for it appeared highly probable that the whole 
 church might be swept away before morning. 
 
 We had passed through deep waters together 
 before, but that night we felt completely over- 
 whelmed, and for a time we sat and wept in despair. 
 Then we remembered that we had a Father, who 
 never laid upon His children more than they could 
 carry, and had promised grace and strength to those 
 who ask it, and we prayed that night, I think, as we 
 never prayed before. 
 
 The gale raged with unexampled fury for two 
 days and nights, during which we could do nothing 
 but look on helplessly, and yet hopefully, now we 
 had cast the burden on to the Lord. Our prayers 
 were undoubtedly answered, for the church emerged 
 triumphantly from the ordeal, and a week of ex- 
 ceptionally mild weather followed which enabled 
 us to repair the damage inflicted by the storm. Mr. 
 Spencer, who had kept a very careful record of the 
 weather during his twenty years' residence at 
 Churchill, assured us that he had never known such 
 a mild spell at that time of the year. The ther- 
 mometer rose to just about freezing-point, and the 
 days were bright and calm. 
 
 98
 
 The Building of a Church in the North 
 
 We discovered the missing portion of the roof 
 on the river, nearly a quarter of a mile away. It 
 was, of course, badly broken, but with the aid of 
 some of the men I was able to replace it in position, 
 and the church was once more intact. We took 
 every possible precaution to prevent any of the 
 doors or windows from blowing open again. 
 Throughout that winter the building stood firm and 
 safe, and it has weathered many a storm since then. 
 
 During the ensuing spring and summer the work 
 of construction was steadily pushed forward, but 
 as I had to do all the work alone it was not until 
 the summer of 1892 that the church was formally 
 opened for divine service. 
 
 This building is still standing at Churchill, 
 reverenced and beloved by many an Indian and 
 Eskimo, as well as by the white population of the 
 fort. When Bishop Newnham of Moosonee visited 
 us in 1895 he complimented us by saying that it 
 was the most complete, comfortable, churchlike 
 building in the whole Diocese of Moosonee, a tribute 
 to our handiwork which made us feel that our 
 labour, even in its material aspect, had not been 
 in vain, apart from the great spiritual awakening 
 amongst the natives which the possession of such 
 a place of worship helped to bring about. Many a 
 poor soul has found peace and consolation within 
 its walls.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SHETHNANEAI, OR " THE BIG HILL," AND YORK 
 FACTORY 
 
 After the work on the church was finished, at least 
 for that winter, I resumed the usual work of the 
 Mission: the services, classes, and day-school were 
 held in our little mission house, which measured 
 only 23 feet by 19 feet, divided into just three 
 rooms for all purposes. 
 
 One room was 19 feet long by 9 feet wide, and 
 in this we had sometimes as many as fifty people, 
 and as it was winter, when we were obliged to keep 
 up big fires, it sometimes got so close that one could 
 scarcely breathe. 
 
 For exercise and recreation I shot ptarmigan, 
 on which we to a very large extent depended for 
 animal food. In former years up to 1882 deer had 
 been so abundant at Churchill that they used to 
 run around about the place like rabbits, but that 
 year there were some terrible fires around, all the 
 moss was burnt up, and the deer left the region 
 altogether. During my eighteen 3'ears at Churchill 
 I only once saw a band of deer near the place, but 
 since 1900 they have returned, the moss having 
 grown up again, and there is never any difBculty 
 in getting all the meat required. 
 
 100
 
 " The Big Hill " and York Factory 
 
 Ptarmigan, like the rabbit of the north, is very 
 poor food, especially in winter; there seems to be no 
 nutriment in them; they manage to pick up just 
 sufficient food to keep them alive and that is all. 
 I have known whole families of Indians starve even 
 when they had abundance of rabbits or ptarmigan, 
 but having no fatty matter of any kind, or grain 
 food, they would gradually pine away and die. 
 The people would often come to us and tell us they 
 were starving, having nothing but " ptarmigan 
 boiled in white water " — that is, they had no pork 
 or grease of any kind to mix with them. 
 
 Early in February that winter I started out to pay 
 a long promised visit to a place called Shethnaneai, 
 or the " Big Hill," about one hundred and fifty miles 
 west of Churchill. This is the place where the 
 Indians often gather in winter, as there is good 
 fishing in the large lake, and generally good hunting 
 in the surrounding country. By joining some of the 
 Hudson's Bay Company's men, who were going 
 there for the purpose of trading furs, and had a 
 good team of dogs, I avoided the necessity of 
 hauling my own supplies, but there was no chance 
 of riding, for our sledge was too heavy. 
 
 The first stage of the journey, across Button's 
 Bay, was intensely disagreeable, as the thermo- 
 meter showed thirty below zero, and a strong wind 
 was blowing right in our faces. When we reached 
 the woods on the other side and got into Seal 
 River it was much better, and we pushed on 
 
 101
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 until 5 p.m. and then prepared to camp for the 
 night. 
 
 Camping when travelling in the north is the most 
 unpleasant part of the day's work, but it is un- 
 avoidable, for there are no houses or stopping 
 places of any kind. A favourable spot is selected 
 where the trees are thickest, then the snow is dug 
 away with the snow-shoes until one gets to the 
 earth. Trees are then felled and arranged to form 
 a wind-screen on three sides of the camp, the ground 
 is strewn with pine-brush, a fire, as large as the supply 
 of wood will allow (this is generally very small in 
 the north of Canada), is built on the fourth side, 
 and one's shelter is complete for the night. 
 
 After supper and prayers each man rolls himself 
 up in his deerskin or rabbitskin robe (the latter 
 is by far the best), and seeks what sleep the cold 
 will permit him to enjoy. Should the night happen 
 to be fine, the brilliancy of the stars and the sparkling 
 and flashing of the Aurora Borealis will compensate 
 him in some measure for his inability to sleep — 
 I have often been able to read quite well at midnight 
 simply by the light of this wonderful phenomenon 
 of the north country — but in stormy weather, 
 when shelter is poor and wood scarce, and one of 
 the terrible blizzards is blowing, he tosses fretfully 
 and uncomfortably for hours, and probabiy wakes 
 up in the morning to find nearly a foot of snow cover- 
 ing blankets and everything else. At such times a 
 large blazing fire is " a consummation devoutly 
 
 102
 
 " The Big Hill " and York Factory 
 
 to be wished for," and a wish it too often has to 
 remain. 
 
 My feet were very badly bUstered by my snow- 
 shoes when we reached Shethnaneai on the sixth day, 
 and I was very glad to be at the end of my journey, 
 where I could rest for a little time. We found 
 only fourteen Indians encamped on the lake, the 
 majority of them being about four days' journey 
 farther west. I felt compelled to refuse a pressing 
 request to go there, as there would be little possi- 
 bility of an immediate return, and I had to get 
 back within a short time. For three days we enjoyed 
 some very hearty and pleasant services, and it was 
 a treat to see the way in which the Indians entered 
 into them. It would have shamed many a congre- 
 gation gathered in some of the large, handsome, and 
 comfortable buildings in which civilized Christians 
 meet to worship God, or, too often, to worship them- 
 selves. Then I again set my face homewards, where 
 I arrived after another six days' tramp, having 
 walked in all about three hundred and fifty miles 
 to give these poor souls the opportunity of worship- 
 ping God with their minister. 
 
 During the previous summer we had taken into 
 our house a little Chipewyan girl, whose mother 
 had treated her with great cruelty, having on one 
 occasion broken her arm by throwing her out of the 
 tent. As the woman was a poor widow with no one 
 to look after her or hunt for her family, she made no 
 objection to my sending the child to the Indian 
 
 103
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Home at Elkhom, Manitoba. The duty of taking 
 the child to York, where she could meet the York 
 boats going south in June, naturally devolved upon 
 me; and so, being at home for about a month, I 
 started out on another tramp of 400 miles with York 
 as my destination. 
 
 On this trip I had the pleasure of the company of 
 Mr. John Spencer, the Hudson's Bay Company's 
 officer at Churchill, who had been unwell for some 
 time, and wished to consult the doctor at York 
 in regard to his health. 
 
 Favoured by excellent weather, we were able to 
 reach York in five days, and there I enjoyed the rare 
 joy and pleasure of spending nearly two weeks 
 in social intercourse with my fellow-missionary, 
 the Rev. G. S. Winter. The infrequency of these 
 meetings is one of the most keenly felt drawbacks 
 to life in the north. One is at times inclined to envy 
 those missionaries who are stationed in India, China, 
 or other places, where the comforts and even 
 luxuries of the homeland are at hand, not the least 
 of these being the society of one's fellow-country- 
 men. Our return journey was very far from 
 pleasant ; the melting snow made walking and camp- 
 ing equally uncomfortable, and we were indeed 
 thankful to be able to make the journey in six days. 
 
 When summer came round our Eskimos and 
 Indians flocked to the post as usual; but the work of 
 the Mission was not destined to proceed without 
 interruption. Early in the season I received in- 
 
 104
 
 "The Big Hill" and York Factory 
 
 formation from Bishop Horden, then Bishop of 
 Moosonee, that he was taking advantage of the sail- 
 ing of a small vessel from Moose Factory to York to 
 pay a visit to the latter place. As he would not be 
 able to come so far north as Churchill, he asked me 
 to meet him if possible at York Factory. My wife 
 and I decided to go, taking with us our daughter and 
 maid, as we could not leave them alone. 
 
 A passage was secured in a boat bound for our 
 destination, an open boat without any accommo- 
 dation, and in four days we were at York. We 
 took along with us our own small boat in which to 
 return, as there would be no other way of getting 
 back, so far as we knew. 
 
 We waited for some weeks at York till the 
 schooner from Moose turned up, but without the 
 Bishop. By some mischance he had missed her at 
 Fort George. Our journey had thus been in vain, 
 and there was no hope of seeing him. After we 
 had stayed with the Winters for nearly a month, 
 the annual ship arrived quite unexpectedly from 
 England. She had not been to Churchill, so the 
 captain very kindly offered us a passage, and we were 
 only too glad to accept, as going along the coast 
 in the Mowbray Trotter, a very small boat, would 
 not have been at all pleasant. This boat was given 
 to me for the Mission of Churchill by the late Canon 
 Mowbray Trotter of Gloucester. Unfortunately the 
 captain and crew were rather a rough lot, and they 
 had a great deal of drink on board, which they did 
 
 105
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 not spare, so that it was one of the roughest ex- 
 periences I have ever had on the Bay. 
 
 It was by a mere chance we managed to reach 
 Churchill, and I had to take the vessel into the 
 harbour. As we ran into the river, an accident 
 happened which might have cost the lives of several 
 of the fort men ; they came out to meet us, and, either 
 owing to the strong tide or to mismanagement, got 
 their boat right under the bows of the ship. The men 
 had barely time to grasp the anchor chains and 
 tackle when the boat went right under and came up 
 at the stern ; she then drifted ashore on the north 
 side, and as she had very little in her at the time 
 there was no great loss. 
 
 We were once more safe home, and deeply thank- 
 ful, for that night a most terrible storm came on, 
 and if we had followed the advice of some of the 
 officers of the ship, who wanted us to anchor just 
 outside the river, we must without doubt have been 
 driven on to the rocks. 
 
 In connection with the work of the Mission, I 
 had that year travelled fully twelve hundred miles 
 either on my snow-shoes or in a small boat, but 
 had the joy of knowing that something had been 
 done to give the Gospel to these poor lost sheep of 
 the northland. 
 
 io6
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MARBLE ISLAND 
 
 Marble Island, so called on account of the very 
 white granite rock of which it is composed, lies just 
 south of Chesterfield Inlet, in the northern portion 
 of Hudson's Bay, about five hundred miles north 
 of Churchill. 
 
 In summer it, or rather the mainland opposite 
 to it, is the meeting-place of the Eskimos from 
 Bathurst Inlet, Repulse Bay, Cape Fullerton, and 
 Baker Lake. As comparatively few of these Es- 
 kimos ever come so far south as Churchill, I was 
 extremely anxious to visit them in their much- 
 frequented camping-ground, but until the year 
 1892 the pressure of my work in summer had not 
 permitted me to avail myself of the courtesy of 
 the Hudson's Bay Company's officials, from whom 
 I had a standing offer of a passage in the boats 
 which were sent to the Island every year. In 1892, 
 however, I had more time at my disposal, as most 
 of my building was finished for the present, so I 
 determined to go. 
 
 As fellow-travellers I had a clerk of the Company, 
 one or two half-breeds, and over one hundred 
 Eskimos, who had been camping during the spring 
 
 107
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 and early summer at, or near, Old Fort Prince of 
 Wales. We started on the 19th of July in two 
 coast-boats, or small two-masted schooners. In 
 one was a small cabin about six feet long and about 
 four feet high ; this was our only shelter, except such 
 as could be formed by oil-cloths. 
 
 The first night out we anchored in the Churchill 
 River, waiting for the Eskimos. I most sincerely 
 hope never to spend such another night. Legions 
 of mosquitoes made sleep entirely out of the ques- 
 tion. Until we set sail next morning at 3.30 a.m. 
 an unequal battle was waged against a small but 
 intrepid foe whose numbers seemed to increase in 
 proportion to the thousands we killed, and our 
 tempers rose. Only by getting out to sea could we 
 get rid of them and find any peace. 
 
 There are no harbours or havens of any sort on 
 the western coast of the Bay for nearly five hundred 
 miles north of Churchill. From the low shores 
 long reefs run for miles out to sea, and the tide 
 recedes so far that, unless the greatest care is exer- 
 cised, one is apt to become stranded miles out to 
 sea. With us, however, all went well until a heavy 
 gale struck us on the fourth day out. Wind and sea 
 combined to drive us on to the lee-shore, where the 
 surf was breaking thunderously upon the rocks. 
 We held on to our course as long as possible, but at 
 length were compelled to drop our anchors and trust 
 to them in the face of a gale blowing right across 
 the 600 miles of the Bay. The strength of the 
 
 108
 
 Marble Island 
 
 anchors and cables alone saved us from being swept 
 on to the reefs, with no hope of escape, for we were 
 miles from the shore. In this perilous situation 
 we remained for two days and nights, with the wind 
 shrieking through the rigging, and the waves pound- 
 ing on the hull. Both boats were in the same 
 plight, in sight of each other, but quite unable to 
 help one another. 
 
 After the gale had subsided a run of two days 
 brought us to a large Eskimo encampment, where we 
 were to part company from most of those who 
 had travelled with us. As the boats could not 
 approach close to the shore, the people had to dis- 
 embark on rafts formed by lashing kayaks — or 
 Eskimo boats — together. A comical sight it was 
 to see men, women, children, dogs, tents, and house- 
 hold effects all tumbled and jumbled together on 
 these ramshackle, frail-looking contrivances. One 
 naturally feared a tragic sequel to the amusing 
 scene, but every raft landed its composite cargo in 
 safety When the whole party was on shore and the 
 tents set up, the result was one of the largest Eskimo 
 encampments I had ever seen in the north — there 
 were fully one hundred and fifty of them. 
 
 Most of the Eskimos had travelled in one boat, 
 not more than forty feet long. In this crowded 
 space, adults, children, and dogs struggled for elbow 
 room. I had intended travelling with the Eskimos, 
 on purpose to be able to teach them, but was dis- 
 suaded from doing so just as we started. A nearer 
 
 109
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 view — or rather, whiff — of the boat when they 
 landed left me very glad indeed that I had not 
 done so. In the north one l3ecomcs accustomed to 
 a good many strong smells, and I had lived with 
 the Eskimos a great deal, but that boat was the 
 limit. Whale-oil and blubber had no terrors for me 
 at that time, and I could go unwashed for a week, 
 eat half-cooked, or wholly uncooked, food, and sleep 
 on a 6-inch plank with any sailor, but I drew the 
 line at that boat. 
 
 We spent one night at the encampment, though 
 it was night only in name, for I was teaching the 
 Eskimos in broad dayhght at 2 a.m., and then we 
 sailed away until we came to a large island on which 
 we found some fifty large walrus which had been 
 killed by the Eskimos that summer. On this island 
 I caught a most beautiful eiderduck, which refused 
 to leave the eggs, about twenty in number, upon 
 which she was sitting. I, however, refused to 
 disturb her or to take her eggs. The Eskimos and 
 Indians of the north country are very fond of eggs 
 in what may well be described as a " high " state; 
 in fact, disgusting as it may seem to us, they really 
 prefer having something to masticate in an egg. 
 I must confess that I have made but one attempt 
 to acquire this taste, and never wanted to try again. 
 
 On Sunday evening, the 31st of July, we came 
 within sight of Marble Island. It lay about twenty 
 miles to the north of us, and with the sun shining 
 full upon it looked just like an immense iceberg, 
 
 no
 
 Marble Island 
 
 and might very easily have been taken for one. 
 Another day's sail brought us to where the Eskimos 
 were encamped on the mainland opposite the island, 
 but before we could land a thick fog descended and 
 blotted everything from view, and we were obliged 
 to anchor. When the fog lifted next day we found 
 ourselves hemmed in on every side by ice, though 
 there had been no signs of it when we dropped the 
 anchor. To sit in a small boat in the midst of large 
 masses of ice charging down upon one with horrible 
 grinding and crunching sounds is an experience 
 likely to quicken the pulses of even the boldest. It 
 is bad enough in a stout ship, as I have found in 
 Hudson's Strait, but in a boat it is a thousand 
 times worse. 
 
 A freshening gale compelled us to run some 
 distance down Jones's Inlet as soon as we got clear 
 of the ice. Several seas washed right over us, 
 drenching everything: in addition to this it rained 
 in torrents the whole time. Going down the Inlet 
 for some miles we managed to run into a small bay, 
 where we got a little shelter from the storm, but the 
 rain continued so that for twenty-four hours we were 
 unable to light a fire and could do nothing but try 
 and sleep in wet blankets. 
 
 When at last the gale moderated we worked our 
 way back to the Eskimo encampment. Fifty more 
 of them came in the day we arrived, increasing the 
 population of the temporary settlement to 150 souls. 
 They were simply delighted to see me and earnestly 
 
 III
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 begged me to stay with them permanently, but 
 owing to the lateness of the season I could not 
 venture to prolong my visit over two days. They 
 were, indeed, very busy days spent in visiting the 
 tents, having school for the children and holding 
 services. Many of these people had never before 
 heard the Gospel, though most of them had heard 
 of the minister at Churchill. It was, indeed, most 
 touching to see the way they listened whilst I tried 
 to set before them the Fatherhood of God and the 
 brotherhood of Christ. It made me wonder what 
 the effect would be upon professing Christians if 
 they could as grown-up men and women listen for the 
 first time to the Gospel story. It would, I am sure, 
 do away to a very large extent with the mere 
 nominal Christianity of many of our churches. 
 
 On the voyage home, which was quite uneventful, 
 we came across several other bands of Eskimos, 
 but I could only stay with them a few hours whilst 
 the men were trading. I consider that I came into 
 contact with about five hundred of this interesting 
 race during my month's voyage, so the time was 
 not spent in vain. 
 
 To live, sleep, and eat in a 40-foot boat on the 
 western shores of Hudson's Bay for four weeks is an 
 undertaking I should hesitate to impose upon any 
 man unless I wished him to have a taste of purgatory, 
 but in the Lord's service physical misery is speedily 
 forgotten in the consciousness that slowly but 
 surely the inhabitants of the frozen north are being 
 
 112
 
 Marble Island 
 
 won for Christ. Even now the voice of prayer and 
 praise is heard in many a snow-made iglo, and many 
 times over on this trip did I hear the words, 
 " Koveasukpok ; Okperkpogook" — "We rejoice; we 
 believe." 
 
 113
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE POLAR BEAR OF THE NORTH 
 
 The polar bear of the north country is on the whole 
 a very inoffensive animal, generally very shy of man. 
 His food consists of seal-flesh, blubber, salmon, 
 and other kinds of fish. On the rare occasions on 
 which he has deliberately attacked man he has 
 nearly always been driven to do so by the all- 
 compelling force of hunger. But, on the other hand, 
 if pursued and wounded he is no mean enemy, and 
 then a man's life depends upon the reliability of 
 his gun and on his marksmanship. 
 
 I saw a polar bear for the first time in the summer 
 of 1884 when on my way along the coast from York 
 Factory to Churchill. How we came upon him 
 unawares as he lay asleep, and how he bolted panic- 
 stricken when a gun was fired in the air, has already 
 been related. A few years later, whilst I was 
 stationed as missionary at Churchill, one of our 
 Indians, a big strapping 6-footer, came across the 
 traces of a polar bear whilst out hunting in the Cape 
 Churchill district. Following the trail as only an 
 Indian can, he at length observed the animal sitting 
 on a low ridge. The bear, whose wariness easily 
 foiled any further attempt at stalking, no sooner 
 
 114
 
 The Polar Bear of the North 
 
 perceived his enemy than he advanced to encounter 
 him. The Indian fired, but unfortunately his gun 
 missed fire (they use only shot-guns, not rifles), and 
 the next moment he was struck to the ground by a 
 blow from the bear's mighty paw. With the bear 
 standing right over him the Indian's sole chance 
 lay in feigning death. He lay perfectly stiU, 
 scarcely daring to breathe, whilst the bear rolled 
 him over several times; then the bear moved off 
 a short distance, watching him as a cat watches a 
 mouse. Seizing his opportunity the Indian was on 
 his hands and knees in a moment, reaching for his 
 gun, but too late, for with a bound of unexpected 
 swiftness he was bowled over again, this time having 
 his right shoulder very badly torn. Again he lay 
 as dead, and the bear, after rolling him over several 
 times, bruising him severely and watching for the 
 slightest movement, went off and left him. The 
 Indian, rendered cautious by his recent experience, 
 allowed the animal to go unmolested, and then rose 
 and walked to the Mission, nearly fifty miles away, 
 where I dressed his injuries and heard his story, 
 finding him much knocked about, badly bruised, 
 and his shoulder terribly lacerated, though fortu- 
 nately no bones were broken. 
 
 One summer the Rev. G. S. Winter, then mission- 
 ary in charge at York Factory, paid us a visit at 
 Churchill. He was unable to return, as he had come, 
 by boat, but was obliged to walk along the coast. 
 On his journey he camped one night with his com- 
 
 115
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 panions, two Indians named James Begg and Harry 
 Stag, at Stoney Creek, about fifty miles from York. 
 A few willows or pieces of driftwood to form a wind- 
 screen and a large fire of driftwood constitute a 
 camp on the shores of the Bay in summer ; tents are 
 never carried, for, unlike missionaries in Africa or 
 other parts of the world, the missionary in the far 
 north cannot have a band of porters to carry his 
 effects. After supper and prayers Mr. Winter and 
 his companions rolled themselves in their blankets 
 and were soon fast asleep. About two hours later, 
 when it was quite dark and the fire had burned low, 
 Harry Stag was awakened by the pressure of some 
 heavy object on his leg. Peeping out from his 
 blanket he was startled to perceive a polar bear 
 standing right over him. 
 
 At the shout of "Bear in camp" all three were 
 on the other side of the fire in the twinkling of an 
 eye. The bear, surprised for the moment, quickly 
 recovered his self-possession and prowled round the 
 camp: then began an exciting though somewhat 
 ludicrous chase around the fire. A firebrand failed 
 to scare the visitor; in the confusion the campers 
 had no time to seize any weapon; neither gun nor 
 axe lay ready to hand, and, to make matters worse, 
 Mr. Winter, who was very short-sighted, lost his 
 glasses and could see nothing. The bear finally 
 became tired of the game, and picking up a pair of 
 " husky " boots made of sealskin and a pair of 
 pants walked off a few paces to examine his prizes. 
 
 ii6
 
 The Polar Bear of the North 
 
 This gave the breathless men an opportunity of 
 securing a gun, but it was only loaded with small 
 shot, and they could not find a bullet. Dissatisfied 
 with the nature of his booty, the bear returned to 
 the camp, and recommenced the novel pastime of 
 chasing his quarry round and round the fire. Break- 
 ing away from the giddy whirl, the man with the 
 gun made off out of the camp, and the bear after 
 him. He fired, but the small shot did not stop the 
 bear or damp his ardour, and the next instant the 
 Indian came into sharp contact with mother earth 
 with a great deal more violence than was agreeable. 
 Evidently satisfied with this exhibition of his 
 pugilistic prowess, the bear then returned to the 
 camp and helped himself to a blanket, but the other 
 man had by this time succeeded in loading his gun 
 with ball, and bowled the bear right over with his 
 first shot. He was not content, however, with this, 
 and fired five more shots into the body of the bear. 
 Then the other Indian rejoined the rest of the party 
 and they sat around the camp fire until daylight 
 enabled them to skin the animal. The bear's 
 stomach was quite empty, a circumstance which 
 explained his boldness in invading the camp as he 
 did. 
 
 In the spring of 1893, when travelling from 
 Churchill to York with dogs and sledge, we one day 
 sighted a polar bear and two cubs as we were crossing 
 a large plain nearly twenty miles wide. We managed 
 to get between them and the sea, which was not far 
 
 117
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 away. As soon as our dogs got wind of them they 
 started in pursuit. After a chase of lo miles we 
 ran them into the woods where the snow was soft 
 and deep. The mother bear could very easily have 
 escaped from us but for her devotion to her offspring, 
 which being only about the size of collie dogs became 
 very tired and frequently lagged behind, when she 
 would stop and whine for them to come up; when 
 they got into the soft snow they could make no 
 progress at all, and simply lay down. The mother 
 bear would go on for some distance, then stop and 
 call to them to come on, and when at last she saw 
 they could not do this, and that we were getting 
 close at hand, she came back and stood over her 
 young ones to protect them ; in this attitude we shot 
 her, and knocked over the cubs with sticks. It 
 seemed a rather cruel proceeding, but we had no 
 animal food and very little of anything else, and 
 we still had loo miles to go before we could 
 get any. The Indians also wanted the skin of the 
 bear, for it meant money to them. Within twenty 
 minutes of shooting the bear we were sitting round 
 a camp fire eating bear steaks. My little daughter, 
 then five years old, had one of the cubs as a doll for 
 some time, and finally it was sent home to the 
 Church Missionary Society, and is now, or was, in 
 the Museum at Salisbury Square. 
 
 Polar-bear meat is very strong, in more senses 
 than one. In the spring, after the bear has been 
 hibernating for some months, it is not so bad, but 
 
 ii8
 
 The Polar Bear of the North 
 
 in the fall, when the animals are fat, it is exceedingly 
 fishy and fit only for the omnivorous Eskimo. 
 
 A friend of mine on a visit to us at Churchill was 
 most anxious to taste polar-bear meat even though 
 we were then in the month of October. 
 
 We managed to procure some from an Eskimo, 
 and to humour him my wife cooked some of it, 
 but she declined to bring it into the room, telling us 
 that we must go into the kitchen if we wanted it. 
 Accordingly we adjourned thither, and beheld on 
 the table two plates each containing a small piece 
 of meat simply swimming in oil. I had often eaten 
 bear's flesh before, but always out in the open, and 
 this particular specimen, being indoors, did not 
 appeal to me. The odour of the thing defied descrip- 
 tion. My friend sniffed the morsel and turned up 
 his nose, but manfully asserted that if I could eat 
 it he could. In order to induce him to try I set him 
 the example, though it was really hard work to do 
 so; at last he managed to get a very small piece 
 into his mouth, but immediately bolted for the 
 kitchen door, coming back in a few moments minus 
 the bear's meat and other things, and looking as he 
 might have done on first being in a storm at sea. 
 Two years later he wrote that he could still taste 
 that bear's meat, and wanted no more. 
 
 1 19
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 TRAVELLING EXPERIENCES ON THE SHORES OF 
 HUDSON'S BAY 
 
 The year 1893 was a period of great change for us 
 and also of very active work for me. Owing to 
 the exceptional severity of the winter some of the 
 Indians and Eskimos suffered greatly from privation 
 and destitution. One whole party of Indians was 
 very nearly starved to death, and one whole family 
 of Eskimos actually perished from starvation. 
 
 In this year Archdeacon Winter and his family 
 left York Factory, turning the Mission over to my 
 care, no easy charge, as York and Churchill are 
 nearly two hundred miles apart, with no road and 
 no house between them. 
 
 In winter the journey had to be made on snow- 
 shoes, and in summer either by small open boat or 
 on foot along the coast. In March I went to York 
 by dog-sledge, and on this journey encountered 
 the bear and cubs mentioned in the last chapter. 
 During my stay, which lasted until after Easter, I 
 had the pleasure of baptizing some Indian babies 
 who had been carried over one hundred miles on 
 their mother's back to be admitted into the outward 
 fellowship of Christ's Church. On one occasion 
 
 120
 
 Travelling Experiences on Hudson's Bay 
 
 whilst I was there nearly fifty Indians knelt round 
 the Lord's Table, many of whom had walked from 
 one to two hundred miles in order to be present. 
 
 We made a special effort in returning home owing 
 to the fineness of the weather, and accomplished the 
 entire journey in four days, being an average of 
 50 miles a day — a very fair performance on snow- 
 shoes — though I have known this beaten many a 
 time by Indians. As a result, however, I was in- 
 capacitated for nearly a week, so that our haste was 
 little to our advantage, only that I was home, and 
 found all well after many weeks' absence. 
 
 In April the arrival of large parties of Eskimos, 
 Chipewyans, and Crees, many of whom had suffered 
 great hardships during the winter, gave me a lot of 
 work to do in addition to the painting and finishing 
 of the church, so that the time passed all too quickly. 
 
 In July we bade farewell to the Hudson's Bay 
 officer, Mr. Spencer, who was leaving with his family 
 for Winnipeg, after having been in the service of 
 the Company at Churchill for twenty years. We 
 parted with the greatest regret from those who had 
 been such good friends to us, and especially so 
 as Mrs. Spencer was the only white woman besides 
 my wife within a radius of 200 miles; nay more, 
 for there was no other white woman to the north 
 of us. 
 
 The annual ship came in on the 13th of August, 
 bringing us another year's supplies, for which we 
 were deeply thankful. As a steamer had now 
 
 121
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 replaced the old sailing vessel, we were able to fore- 
 cast the arrival of our yearly supplies with much 
 more certainty than formerly. 
 
 On the 2ist of the month, after the ship had left, 
 I started on another visit to York, going this time 
 by a schooner of 60 tons that had begun to run 
 between the two places. After a very pleasant 
 voyage of four days we reached York, and I spent 
 a very happy three weeks amongst the Indians at 
 the post, who had now been without a missionary 
 for a year. Services had, nevertheless, been regu- 
 larly conducted on Sundays and weekdays alike by 
 one of their own number, an unpaid lay-worker. 
 
 My return journey was an experience never to be 
 forgotten. As the schooner was to be laid up at 
 York for the winter, three of us started back for 
 Churchill in a heavily laden York boat, about thirty 
 feet long, with no cabin or shelter of any kind. 
 We had been enjoying some delightful mid-Sep- 
 tember weather, but on the day we set sail a com- 
 plete change took place: for two days we were de- 
 tained at the mouth of the Hayes River, unable to 
 put out to sea, and without a tent or cabin in our 
 boat to shelter us from the continuous heavy rain. 
 A good run of 20 miles on the third day took us 
 across the mouth of the Nelson, but rain fell heavily 
 during the night, and in the morning we were 
 unable to leave until midday, as the tide was out. 
 When at last we did get under way the wind veered 
 to the north-east, so that, after running a short 
 
 122
 
 Travelling Experiences on Hudson's Bay 
 
 distance, we were compelled to put in for the shore 
 at high tide. Next day the tide never came near 
 our boat, and it was impossible for the three of us to 
 move her; so we had to stay where we were for six 
 whole days of continuous hail, sleet, rain, and snow, 
 with no tent or shelter of any kind, and with very 
 little firewood and that only heavy driftwood, 
 which would hardly burn at all. After six days of 
 this misery we walked to the tent of an Indian, 
 some eight miles away, sinking up to the knees in 
 icy-cold water at every step. We spent the night 
 there. It was not at all comfortable, but certainly 
 better than lying in the rain. Next morning we 
 returned to our boat and succeeded in getting her 
 off, but, after having made only four miles' progress 
 at the end of four hours' hard work, were again 
 driven ashore by a heavy gale. Once more we 
 were weatherbound, on this occasion for two days. 
 Although we had been out from York ten days, 
 we had only made some forty miles ; our food supply 
 was almost gone, and we were at least one hundred 
 and fifty miles from home. 
 
 We had, however, no thought of turning back, 
 for Churchill was home. The whole country was 
 now covered with snow, and it seemed as if there 
 were no chance of getting north with the boat, so we 
 decided to abandon her and to continue our journey 
 on foot. We started in a bhnding snow-storm on 
 the 25th of September, each man carrying his own 
 kit and gun. The whole country was in a state of 
 
 123
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 flood after the heavy rains, the swamps were lakes, 
 the creeks rivers, and the rivers torrents. For six 
 days we toiled on, sinking up to the knees through the 
 ice, which had formed on the pools and swamps, and 
 at night sleeping in our wet clothes wherever the 
 darkness happened to come upon us. In crossing 
 Owl River we were immersed up to the waist for 
 two hours in the icy-cold water, lashed together 
 with rope, and clinging to poles in order to prevent 
 our being swept off our feet by the flood. At Broad 
 River we were shoulder-high in water for over an 
 hour before we could get across, and a heavy storm 
 of rain, hail, and snow overtook us as we were crossing 
 Cape Churchill, one of the most desolate, dreary 
 places in the whole world. For hours we wandered 
 about in the " Eastern Creeks," and at last reached 
 " Knight's Hill Beacon " so exhausted that we lay 
 on the open ground all night in spite of the downpour 
 of rain. 
 
 Captain Hawes, one of my companions, was in a 
 very bad state, and I feared that he would succumb. 
 
 Next day we started more cheerfully as it was a 
 fine day, though we had nothing for breakfast but 
 tea; we lost our way, however, and, after wandering 
 for four hours, returned to our starting-point. Again 
 we set out, and found a trail leading to Churcliill. 
 Though we were now only 25 miles from home, 
 our weakness and exhaustion was such that we 
 failed to reach the place and spent the night instead 
 in abject misery, with no food other than the 
 
 124
 
 Travelling Experiences on Hudson's Bay 
 
 berries that we could find along the route, and no 
 ammunition. We had been exposed to rain, hail, 
 sleet or snow every day since leaving the boat; as a 
 rule we were walking through deep water most of 
 the time, and at night had to endure five or six 
 degrees of frost, wet to the skin, and without cover- 
 ing of any kind, except our one blanket each. I have 
 never experienced a more trying journey in all my 
 twenty years in the Bay. 
 
 The people at Churchill had almost given us up 
 for lost, as the whole countryside there was covered 
 with full a foot of snow. In order to cross the 
 Churchill River we had to commandeer a small, 
 leaky skiff, which we very fortunately found on the 
 shore, and had a very hard time in getting it across 
 without going to the bottom; had we not crossed 
 on that day, we should have been compelled to wait 
 until the two miles of water froze fast, nearly a 
 month later, and as there was neither food nor 
 shelter on the south side, nor a chance of shooting 
 anything, since we had guns but no ammunition, 
 we should inevitably have been frozen to death. 
 So completely exhausted was I that I had to spend 
 a full week in bed in order to recuperate. 
 
 The wintry weather continued, though it was 
 only the ist of October. The snow had come to 
 stay, and though the river did not set fast till a 
 month later, the quantity of heavy floating ice 
 made it impassable. 
 
 About the middle of October we were greatly 
 125
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 astonished by the arrival of two white men from the 
 north, members of J. B. Tyrrell's party, which was 
 frozen in some thirty miles to the north of Churchill. 
 They had been exploring the Barren Lands, and had 
 come out on Hudson's Bay at Chesterfield Inlet. 
 Coming down the coast from there, they had met 
 even worse weather than that which had overtaken 
 us on the way from York. Compelled at last to 
 abandon the greater part of their outfit and to 
 push on with all possible speed to Churchill, they 
 had become frozen in just north of Seal River, 
 many of them being scarcely able to walk or stand. 
 As their food supply was almost gone, and they were 
 a party of nine, two men were sent out to see if they 
 could find the post, but returned next day without 
 having seen any trace of it. A second party was then 
 sent out, and most fortunately for them happened 
 to come across some hunters from the post, who 
 brought them in. 
 
 A relief party was at once organized, food sent 
 out to them, and in two days the whole party of 
 eight were brought into the post by the dog-teams, 
 and only just in time, for a few more days of priva- 
 tion and exposure would have caused a fatal ending 
 to the sufferings of some of the party. J. B. Tyrrell 
 and his brother, J. W. Tyrrell, were both very ill, 
 and two of the men were badly frozen, one of them 
 being obliged to have the toes of one foot amputated. 
 After nearly a month's stay at Churchill the whole 
 party, with the exception of one man, who was 
 
 126
 
 Travelling Experiences on Hudson's Bay- 
 compelled to remain at York until the summer, as 
 he was unable to walk, was sent on by dog-teams 
 to York, and thence by way of Oxford House to 
 Winnipeg, where they arrived in safety. 
 
 This year was one of strange adventures and 
 incidents. In addition to the events narrated above, 
 our new church narrowly escaped destruction by 
 fire in November, and our little mission house twice 
 caught fire owing to a defective chimney. Fire in 
 the north is a most terrible thing, as it is impossible 
 to obtain water for six months in the year, except 
 by melting ice and snow. There is no hope of saving 
 a building once the flames begin to spread. We have 
 much to thank God for in that in all our twenty 
 years' residence there we were never afflicted by a 
 fire of a serious nature; but the most unwearied 
 vigilance is necessary, and the ever-present possi- 
 bility of an outbreak is a source of constant anxiety. 
 
 127
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 KAYAKING 
 
 An Eskimo kayak, or canoe, is a craft of most 
 ingenious construction and much lighter even than 
 the Indian birchbark. It is as a rule from sixteen 
 to twenty feet long, but built to take one man 
 only. The kayaks in use on the western shores of 
 the Bay are only from twenty to twenty-four inches 
 wide, and rounded on the bottom. On the east 
 coast they are wider as a rule, and made with a 
 flat bottom. The framework of the kayak is com- 
 posed of hundreds of small pieces of wood beautifully 
 fitted together and sewn with seal-line, not a nail 
 or peg entering into its construction. It is covered 
 with sealskin put on wet, and most wonderfully 
 sewn together. An ordinary man can lift it with 
 one hand and place it on his head. 
 
 The single occupant uses a double-bladed paddle. 
 This is not only a means of propulsion, but serves 
 also as a balancing pole for this most frail and 
 ticklish craft. The slightest thing will overturn 
 a kayak, and when overturned in the water it is by 
 no means an easy thing to extricate oneself. I once 
 had a very narrow escape when I hung for some 
 seconds by the legs before succeeding in freeing 
 myself and swimming ashore. 
 
 128
 
 Kayaking 
 
 The Eskimos, however, arc wonderful watermen 
 and very rarely have an upset, though they often 
 venture far out to sea, even out of sight of land 
 sometimes, and shoot or spear fish, seals, and even 
 whales from their kayaks. A white man's first 
 experience is invariably an unpleasant one, for he 
 is almost sure to go over, and no Indian will use a 
 kayak on any account. 
 
 A large party of Eskimos had been staying at 
 the old fort for two months, and when they started 
 for the north in the middle of July, 1894, I decided 
 to go with them in order to visit their tribesmen 
 as far north as Marble Island. The party con- 
 sisted of nearly one hundred Chipewyans as well as 
 the Eskimos. These were all packed into two large 
 coast-boats, whilst a third contained our party with 
 a crew of two Eskimos, two Chipewyans, one Cree, 
 and an English-speaking native of Churchill. When 
 we dropped down the river to join the others at the 
 old fort, we found the Indians and Eskimos busy 
 embarking men, women, children, dogs, tents, 
 goods and chattels without semblance of order 
 into two boats, where they were left to stow them- 
 selves and their belongings as best they could 
 when they got out to sea. A fair wind betokened 
 a pleasant voyage, but (there are many " buts " in 
 travelling on Hudson's Bay) about six miles out from 
 the mouth of the ri /er we found ourselves confronted 
 by a wall of ice, and were compelled to return to 
 " Sc;a Horse Gully," where many of the Indians 
 
 129 I
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 decided to walk rather than trust themselves at sea 
 amongst so much ice. 
 
 As canoe-men on rivers and lakes the Indians are 
 not to be beaten, but they are no sailors and greatly 
 fear the sea, whereas the Eskimos are in their ele- 
 ment there. A second attempt brought us to 
 Long Point, about forty miles from the post; here 
 the ice, which was packed close inshore, rendered 
 further progress to the north impossible. The whole 
 party of over two hundred persons then landed and 
 encamped. A heavy gale delayed us here for 
 three days, causing us the loss of one of the boats 
 owing to the ice- pressure ; but at last we managed 
 to get away, and made 20 miles more until a 
 solid mass of ice, reaching as far as one could see to 
 the north, impeded our journey, and detained us 
 for another week. The coast to the north was packed 
 with ice as if in mid-winter. Our slow rate of 
 progress, some sixty miles in twelve days, and the 
 forbidding aspect of the ice, were circumstances 
 which induced me to give up all hope of being able 
 to reach Marble Island and return in time to meet 
 the annual ship which was due to arrive about the 
 middle of August. On the 28th of July, therefore, I 
 made up my mind to return, and, after some trouble, 
 succeeded in inducing two of the Eskimos to take 
 me back on their kayaks to Long Point, where I 
 hoped to catch one of our boats which had been left 
 there before it returned to Churchill. 
 
 The two kayaks were accordingly lashed together, 
 130
 
 Kayaking 
 
 so as to form a small raft about eighteen feet long 
 and three feet wide. Stowing ourselves and our 
 camp outfit upon this,, we hoisted a blanket for a 
 sail in order to take advantage of the fair wind which 
 was blowing, and put out to sea. 
 
 I found the situation somewhat alarming at 
 first, seated as I was within a few inches of the 
 water, which was bitterly cold and constantly washed 
 over us. After threading our way amongst large 
 ice-floes for about two hours the wind fell, and we 
 came to a standstill, as it was impossible to use the 
 paddles to any good effect with the kayaks lashed 
 together. 
 
 The Eskimos said we must reconstruct our raft 
 so as to enable each man to use his paddle; we 
 therefore landed on an ice-floe, and, parting the 
 kayaks, lashed them together with poles, about four 
 feet apart, so that each man could use his double- 
 bladed paddle. The kettles, blankets, food, etc., 
 were placed on the back of one kayak, and I took my 
 seat on the back of the other, sitting bolt upright 
 with no support for my back and only a small line 
 alongside to assist me in keeping my balance. 
 Every dip of the paddles immersed my legs in the 
 icy-cold water. In such a situation a calculation 
 of one's swimming powers affords but slight con- 
 solation. Several hours' travelling in this manner 
 failed to bring us to Long Point, owing to the thickly 
 packed fields of ice, so we landed for the night in a 
 dreary and desolate place, where we were fortunate 
 
 131
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 enough to find a few pieces of driftwood to make a 
 fire — a very welcome discovery, as it rained all 
 night, and we had no shelter but our blankets. 
 
 In the morning the ice had opened out a little, and 
 an early start enabled us to reach Long Point about 
 three o'clock in the afternoon, travelling as before. 
 I was so badly cramped and so stiff with cold that I 
 could not walk or even stand, but had to roll off the 
 kayaks and lay rubbing my legs until they got some 
 power back again. To my extreme disappointment I 
 found that the boat had left the previous morning. 
 
 A stay of two days in an Eskimo tent gave me an 
 excellent opportunity of teaching the natives, but 
 the circumstances were somewhat trying. One 
 must have a stomach of iron to eat in the company 
 of a crowd of women and children, all devouring raw 
 salmon or seal's meat and drinking whale-oil, the 
 very smell of which is sufficient to cause sea-sickness. 
 To complete the picture, imagine the presence, in 
 one corner, of a woman going over the head of her 
 child with her fingers in simian fashion, and devour- 
 ing the results of her explorations. 
 
 Since the boat had gone, my only chance of catch- 
 ing her was to push on to Seal River, a distance 
 of 15 miles on the kayaks, and I had some difficulty 
 in getting two of the men to go with me, for they were 
 anxious to get north. 
 
 However, I succeeded at last, and we started as 
 the day was fine. In spite of the rough sea, which 
 drenched me continually, we hoped to reach our 
 
 132
 
 Kayaking 
 
 destination in one day, but, as luck would have it, 
 failed to do so, and spent a night of the usual dis- 
 comfort on a small rock, without a fire, and with 
 nothing to eat but raw meat. We had hoped to 
 catch the boat at Seal River, but when we reached 
 the encampment were met with the words, " Oomeak 
 nouk " — " No boat." My last hope was now gone, 
 and I knew not what to do : the Eskimos were most 
 anxious to return, and I could not walk home from 
 there, as there was a large and deep river to cross. 
 Finally I got two of them to promise to put me across 
 this river, from which point I had to walk home, 
 a distance of 20 miles. I started on my solitary 
 tramp at 4 a.m., carrying all my outfit, fully 
 forty pounds in weight, along a route which took 
 me through swamps, and without a vestige of a trail. 
 The day was hot, and I was nearly devoured by 
 black flies and mosquitoes. In the afternoon a 
 heavy thunderstorm came on, but fortunately no 
 rain for a time. I lost my way and wandered 
 for some hours on the rocks behind Churchill until 
 night came on, and with it a heavy rain, which soon 
 drenched me to the skin and seemed to make my 
 pack a ton weight. By the aid of the lightning 
 flashes, I picked my way over the rocks, and at 
 10 p.m., after eighteen hours' walking, I stumbled 
 into the little mission house, greatly to the astonish- 
 ment of my family, who were under the impression 
 that I was some four or five hundred miles away at 
 Marble Island. 
 
 133
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 When the annual ship came in that summer we 
 parted from our only child, whom we were sending to 
 England in the care of our Enghsh servant. Though 
 they left us in August, it was not until the end of 
 the following February that we got news of their 
 safe arrival in England. How much we missed her 
 can be understood only by people situated as we 
 were, with no friends or companions near, except 
 Indians and Eskimos. The departure of one of 
 many children is a distinct loss; the parting from 
 an only child, as in our case, constituted one of the 
 greatest trials of our missionary life, but for her 
 sake it was a wise and necessary thing. 
 
 134
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 VISITORS AT CHURCHILL 
 
 The winter of 1893-94 passed pleasantly enough, 
 with the usual spells of very severe weather, which 
 made it impossible to go out except clad very much 
 like a " Husky" (our usual term for Eskimo), and 
 very difficult to keep warm even indoors. Towards 
 the end of February I left home in very bad weather 
 to visit my outlying district of York Factory with 
 my team of dogs and Indian boy Sammy. We were 
 snowbound for two days at Minister's Lobstick, a 
 most dreary place, so called from a rather high tree, 
 from which many years before Archdeacon Kirkby 
 cut the lower branches in order to form a landmark. 
 This was a sort of " footing " expected from new- 
 comers, and in the olden days, when liquor was 
 freely carried and given out at the Bay posts, an 
 opportunity for the men to secure a " drink all 
 round." Now that liquor has been shut out for 
 many years, this sort of thing is very rarely done. 
 
 Our camp being on very open ground, we suffered 
 greatly from the cold, as we could get but very little 
 firewood, and one morning we woke up, like the 
 Irishman, to find ourselves buried, but it was in 
 snow, more than a foot deep. We reached York 
 
 135
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 on the eighth day, instead of on the sixth, as we 
 should have done. 
 
 For six weeks I remained at York teaching and 
 holding services, at which I met quite a large number 
 of Cree Indians, one of whom had tramped in the 
 most severe weather loo miles in order to have his 
 child baptized, and many others, both men and 
 women, had walked from one to two hundred miles 
 in order to take advantage of the opportunity to 
 kneel around the Lord's Table. 
 
 The early spring of that year made our return 
 journey extremely trying. We started to return on 
 Easter Monda3^ by which time nearly all the snow 
 had disappeared, and, though the ice underneath was 
 still firm, the creeks and swamps were full of water 
 and many of the lakes covered with about six inches 
 of water. Up to our knees in this we waded the 
 4 miles of swamp between the Fort and the Nelson 
 River, and at the point where we crossed, 7 miles 
 wide, there w^as nearly a foot of water on the ice, 
 rendering the task of getting a loaded sledge and 
 dogs across an undertaking of the greatest difficulty. 
 The absence of snow and the sodden condition of the 
 ground made travelling extremely hard work, and 
 no dry spots were to be found for camping places. 
 Pressing on, nevertheless, in spite of these discom- 
 forts and trials, on the sixth day we entered the 
 eastern woods, 25 miles from Churchill. The 
 weather, which up to that time had been remarkably 
 mild, then underwent a sudden change ; a north-west 
 
 136
 
 Visitors at Churchill 
 
 wind caused the thermometer to drop a long way 
 below zero that night, and the rain and thaw ceased. 
 
 The route from the eastern woods to Churchill 
 lay through swamps and small lakes, which we found 
 in the morning coated with about an inch of ice. 
 Though this would easily bear the weight of a man, 
 as soon as our sledges got on to it they broke through 
 into the foot or so of water below. There was, of 
 course, no danger of going through the under ice, 
 for that was firm enough, but we had to pull, tug, 
 and Hft our sledge and dogs to the other side, and it 
 was not quite like working in the South Seas. Our 
 clothes, wet to tlie middle, froze upon us as soon 
 as we got aut of the water, and it was rather 
 like running in a sack ; our snow-shoes fell to 
 pieces owing to the wet and the rough passage. 
 At 9 p.m., some ten hours after we started, we 
 arrived home, footsore and weary beyond measure, 
 and coated with ice to the middle. Several of my 
 toes were very badly frozen, and I lost the whole 
 set of toe-nails. My snow-shoes, the only ones that 
 had remained intact, weighed eight pounds each when 
 I took them off, and my trousers were so stiff in their 
 icy coat that they easily stood upright. For several 
 weeks after I suffered severely from the effects of 
 this trip; but I was able to resume my duties before 
 long, and to put away remembrance of these hard- 
 ships, as I had so often done in the north. 
 
 The arrival of a large number of Eskimos and 
 Chipewyans in the spring and summer kept me 
 
 137
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 very busy until the annual sliip reached us in the 
 first week of August. Now that the Company had 
 put on a steamer we had no longer to endure the 
 weeks of anxious watching for the belated appear- 
 ance of a sailing vessel. This steamer, the Eric, 
 performed her voyage for seven years without 
 having been detained in the Strait for an hour; 
 in the Bay, however, once or twice she ran into 
 heavy field ice off the western coast, on one occa- 
 sion having had to plough her way through fully 
 sixty miles of it. Captain Gray, an old experienced 
 whaler, had been accustomed nearly all his life to 
 ice navigation, which makes all the difference in 
 the world, for no man can sail the northern seas 
 and navigate ice simply because he has navigated 
 the Atlantic or southern seas. It takes him years 
 to learn the different tricks of the ice floes and bergs. 
 
 After the departure of the ship we were left to the 
 pleasant monotony of our daily lives, and given time 
 to prepare for the coming winter. 
 
 On the ist of October we were again surprised by 
 the unexpected arrival of Mr. J. B. T^Trell, of the 
 Geological Survey. We heard nothing of his going 
 into the north country again. He was accompanied 
 by Mr. Munro Ferguson, A.D.C. to the then Governor- 
 General, Lord Aberdeen. Their expedition had 
 crossed the Barren Lands, along the course of the 
 Kazan River, and had emerged on Hudson's Bay at 
 Eskimo Point, some two hundred and fifty miles 
 north of Churchill. 
 
 138
 
 Visitors at Churchill 
 
 Overtaken by very bad weather, though not so 
 bad as the year before, they had managed to push 
 on to the Mission before becoming frozen in, and 
 escaped with a few minor casualties. Further 
 travelling by canoe along the shores of the Bay was 
 out of the question, and they were compelled to 
 wait until the freezing of the lakes and rivers per- 
 mitted them to make their way across country by 
 dog sledge to Split Lake on the Nelson River, thence 
 to Norway House, and from there to Winnipeg, 
 where they arrived in safety. This was the first 
 time that this route had ever been used, but since 
 then the Mounted Police and others have crossed 
 that way, and they have now a well-defined trail. 
 It was a very different thing in 1894, when Mr. 
 Tyrrell first attempted it. 
 
 As the Hudson's Bay Company's premises lacked 
 suitable accommodation Mr. Tyrrell and Mr. Ferguson 
 lived with us for eight weeks in our little mission 
 house, though as we had but one spare bed they 
 had, as we say in the north, to " double up," but I 
 do not think they minded this very much, as it was 
 at least better than being in camp on the shores of 
 the Bay. 
 
 Their warm interest in our work and people and 
 their presence in the house made the visit a real 
 pleasure to us; visitors were so rare and infrequent 
 in those days. On the other hand, too many visitors 
 might have a rather devastating effect on one's 
 winter stock of provisions, which could on no account 
 
 139
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 be replenished until the following summer. A 
 shortage of various necessities did occur occasionally, 
 with somewhat amusing results. I remember well 
 that one year we almost ran out of matches, but being 
 well supplied with candles we hit upon the economical 
 expedient of burning candles to save matches. 
 
 An amusing account of his stay at the mission 
 house was written by Mr. Ferguson on his return 
 to civilization, in which the necessary "Jack- of all 
 trades " ability of the missionary to Hudson's Bay 
 is well illustrated. This narrative was published 
 in the Montreal Diocesan College Magazine for March 
 and April, 1895. 
 
 140
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE BISHOPS OF THE NORTH 
 
 The whole of the Hudson's Bay district lay within 
 the Diocese of Moosonec until the year 1902. In 
 that year the Diocese of Keewatin was founded, 
 as the enormous stretch of territory under the 
 jurisdiction of the Bishop of Moosonee rendered 
 effective supervision of the diocese an extremely 
 difficult, if not impossible, task. The Bishop resided 
 at Moose Factory, in the extreme south of James's 
 Bay, from which point a diocesan visit to the York 
 and Churchill stations, to say nothing of other 
 stations hundreds of miles away in the interior, 
 meant a journey of some thousands of miles, on 
 snow-shoes or by open boat, across trackless country. 
 
 No system of communication existed between the 
 various posts on the Bay itself, except in the south. 
 It will be remembered that when travelling from 
 Moose Factory to York, shortly after my arrival 
 in the country, I had been obliged to make a detour 
 of thousands of miles as far south as Lake Superior 
 in order to cover a journey of some six or eight 
 hundred miles. 
 
 Bishop Horden, the first Bishop of Moosonee, 
 visited Churchill in 1881, the year before I came out, 
 
 141
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 and spent some months at the post. In 1887 he 
 revisited the station, but in that year we had been 
 compelled to go to England on account of my wife's 
 unsatisfactory state of health, and consequently 
 we could not have the pleasure of receiving him or 
 getting any help from his visit. 
 
 In the eight years from 1887 to 1895 our mission 
 post remained unvisited by a Bishop. Bishop 
 Horden died at Moose Factory early in 1892, after 
 forty-one years of most self-sacrificing and success- 
 ful work amongst the Indians of the north. 
 
 He was succeeded by Bishop Newnham, the 
 present Bishop of Saskatchewan (now resigned and 
 living in England), whose interest in the northern 
 stations of the diocese made him most anxious 
 to undertake an early journey to the north 
 country. With this intention he left Moose towards 
 the end of September, 1894, but after ascending 
 the Moose River as far as Missinabie he decided to 
 postpone his visit until the following spring or, 
 rather, early summer. A thousand-mile journey 
 on snow-shoes in the depth of winter is not an 
 undertaking to be lightly entered upon. Having 
 altered his plans he spent the winter and spring 
 in Eastern Canada, and then went west to Winnipeg 
 in time to catch the first boat across that lake. 
 Early in June he set forth along the well-known 
 route in the north — i.e., across Lake Winnipeg — by 
 boat to within some twenty miles of Norway House, 
 then down the rivers and lakes by canoe to the 
 
 142
 
 The Bishops of the North 
 
 coast at York Factory, and from York to Churchill 
 on board a small York boat. 
 
 On the 14th of July he reached his most northerly 
 point, greatly to our relief, for we had been anxiously 
 expecting his arrival for some time. I had not 
 seen my Bishop for thirteen years, consequently 
 Bishop Newnham's visit realized a long-cherished 
 wish, and raised hopes of further progress and ex- 
 pansion in the near future. 
 
 These hopes were by no means doomed to dis- 
 appointment, for we were delighted to find that the 
 Bishop had with him an assistant in the person of 
 Mr. F. Buckland, who was to organize a Mission 
 still farther north than Churchill. It had always 
 been a matter of keen regret to me that we were 
 unable to reach these northern people. 
 
 The Bishop spent a very busy ten days with us. 
 Some of the English-speaking natives were confirmed, 
 and four Eskimos, whom we had prepared, were 
 baptized, the first of these people on the western 
 shores to be admitted into the outward Church. 
 As a considerable number of both Eskimos and 
 Indians happened to be staying at the place, the 
 Bishop had a very good opportunity of observing 
 the work of the Mission and also of studying its 
 needs. He congratulated us upon the splendid 
 appearance of our little mission house and church, 
 both of which we had built with our own hands, 
 and was especially pleased by the earnest attention 
 and reverence shown by both Indians and Eskimos. 
 
 143
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Work amongst the latter is exceedingly difficult 
 owing to their nomadic habits. They have no 
 settled villages, and only come into the post at long 
 intervals. 
 
 At the Bishop's request I accompanied him on 
 his return journey to York Factory, where we arrived 
 after an uneventful trip along the coast. Deer and 
 ducks were very numerous, and mosquitoes even 
 more so. The Bishop, in discussing these annoying 
 pests, said he had never before endured such per- 
 secution as we had suffered on that trip, although 
 during his thirty years' residence in Canada he had 
 spent several summers at Moose Factory, where 
 they are reputed to be especially bad. It seems 
 that the farther north one goes the worse these little 
 pests become; the shorter the summer season the 
 more actively they live their brief life. 
 
 At York quite a number of the Indians were con- 
 firmed, and the Rev. William Dick of Trout Lake, a 
 full-blooded Indian, was admitted to the priesthood. 
 He had been ordained deacon by Bishop Horden some 
 years previously. 
 
 When, at the end of five days, we left for our 
 respective homes, I had the good luck to secure a 
 passage in a small 6o-ton schooner, a much more 
 comfortable mode of travelling than in a smaJl boat 
 with no accommodation or a tramp on foot along the 
 bleak, swampy coast. Bishop Newnham had, how- 
 ever, a much more trying trip. From Severn, 
 275 miles down the coast in a small canoe is no easy 
 144
 
 The Bishops of the North 
 
 journey, and after that he had to make his way 
 across country to Albany, on one occasion coming 
 very near to losing his life in a swamp. Indeed, but 
 for his Indians, he would have done so. The last 
 stage of the journey from Albany to Moose Factory 
 was quite easy, and he arrived safe home just about 
 the end of October, Thus, in order to visit three of 
 his Missions, the Bishop had been absent from his 
 home just thirteen months, during which time he 
 had travelled 4,000 miles, fully half the distance by 
 canoe or small open boat. The unworkable extent 
 of the diocese, and the necessity for a new northern 
 bishopric, needs no further illustration. 
 
 When we arrived at Churchill, after a tedious 
 voyage of ten days, during which we were often 
 fogbound, we were greatly surprised to find the 
 Hudson's Bay Company's whaling vessel Persever- 
 ance, commanded by Captain Murray, in the harbour. 
 Having spent the previous winter in Repulse Bay, 
 and the summer whaling in the northern seas, she 
 was now awaiting the arrival of our annual ship 
 the Eric, in order to take on supplies for another 
 year's cruise. During their sojourn in the northern 
 seas. Captain and Mrs. Murray had a son born to 
 them, who, I believe, was the first white baby born 
 within the arctic circle, and I had the pleasure of 
 baptizing this child. 
 
 On the 2 1st of August the Eric arrived after a most 
 ill-fated voyage. The first mate died on the sixth 
 day out from Peterhead, and in Hudson's Strait 
 
 145 K
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 the ship was detained by dense fog for three whole 
 weeks, during wliich slie very narrowly escaped 
 being wrecked on Mansfic^ld Island. 
 
 Mrs. Murray went home on the Eric, and when 
 the Perseverance had taken on her supplies she 
 started again for the north, taking Mr. Buckland with 
 her as a passenger. He had willingly agreed with 
 my suggestion of a winter's work amongst the 
 Eskimos. I set before him very clearly and frankly 
 the hardships of the life he would have to lead, but 
 he expressed himself as quite willing to face them, 
 and so, Captain Murray having kindly consented to 
 take him, he departed on the 26th of August. 
 
 Thus again we were left to face the old humdrum 
 life at Churchill. The visit of the Bishop, my journey 
 to York, and the unexpected arrival of the Per- 
 severance, had given us an unwonted amount of 
 excitement that summer. 
 
 It almost seemed to us as if the rush and com- 
 motion of the busy outside world were at last reach- 
 ing us at Churchill, " the last house in the world." 
 
 146
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A THOUSAND MILES ON SNOW-SHOES 
 
 In the early days, and even up to 1882, York Factory 
 was the port of entry for all the western country — 
 at least, in so far as the Hudson's Bay Company was 
 concerned. 
 
 As nearly all the supplies for the trading posts 
 passed through it, the Company maintained a large 
 staff of workmen and clerks at this important 
 distributing centre, and also gave employment to 
 most of the able-bodied Indians of the district 
 during the summer when there was no hunting. 
 
 The decline of this post, as one may readily con- 
 jecture, dates from the completion of the Canadian 
 Pacific Railway, Work could no longer be found 
 for the four or five hundred Indians who spent the 
 summer at the post, and they began gradually to 
 drift away into the interior. Many of them pitched 
 their tents on the Nelson River at a place called 
 Split Lake, some three hundred miles away. 
 
 The excellency of the hunting and fishing there 
 attracted a large number of the Indians, most of 
 them from York and a few from Norway House 
 and Cross Lake, until there was a settlement of 
 nearly two hundred of them on the shores of Split 
 
 147
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 Lake. Their rapidly increasing numbers led the 
 Company to establish a trading post amongst them. 
 
 These Indians were all Christians, most of them 
 having been baptized at York Factory, but the 
 inaccessibility of this latest settlement in the interior 
 placed them beyond the reach of the missionary, 
 and their spiritual welfare was left entirely in their 
 own hands. Divine worship was maintained as 
 well as possible, some of them always conducting 
 services on Sundays, but they naturally felt that 
 they were being neglected and going backward, 
 and begged repeatedly that a minister might visit 
 them or that a teacher might be sent to their assis- 
 tance. 
 
 It was an exceedingly difficult matter to reach 
 Split Lake from York in winter, and in summer 
 almost impossible at that time, as no one had ever 
 travelled much in that part. Furthermore, at 
 that time, 1896, we had no missionary at York, that 
 post remaining without one from the departure of 
 the Rev. G. S. Winter in 1892 until 1898. As 
 already related, York, 200 miles away from Churchill, 
 was left in my care, and two or three visits were all 
 I could manage in the course of a year. It was 
 impossible to include Split Lake in my ministrations. 
 
 Bishop Newnham, in his visitation of 1895, was 
 most anxious to include Split Lake in his itinerary, 
 but found it utterly impossible, and requested me 
 to visit it and report to him on the prospects of 
 estabUshing a Mission in that district, as the Indians 
 
 148
 
 A Thousand Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 greatly desired it. This meant a tramp of between 
 three and four rumdred miles on snow-shoes through 
 an almost unknown country. However, I com- 
 municated with our Indian catechist at York, 
 Joseph Kitchekesik (Heavenly Man), and arranged 
 to meet him on the arrival of the winter packet at 
 Churchill in January. In spite of his unfamiliarity 
 with the country we were to traverse, I felt confident 
 of his native ability as a guide to find his way. 
 
 With a team of five " husky " dogs and an Indian 
 half-breed boy as driver, we started about the 
 middle of February, taking with us twelve days' 
 provisions, ample as we thought for the journey we 
 contemplated, and quite as much as we could carry, 
 for we reckoned on obtaining fresh supplies from the 
 deer, rabbits, and ptarmigan we expected to meet 
 with on the way. We relied also on being able to 
 procure additional supplies at Split Lake. 
 
 A rather prolonged spell of ill-health in the 
 autunm and early winter made me somewhat 
 indisposed to undertake such a journey, but, on the 
 other hand, there was no one else to go, and I did not 
 like to back out of a promise given to my Bishop. 
 
 From the Churchill River some miles from the 
 post we emerged, via the Deer River, on to a large 
 treeless plain, where we met with a very severe 
 blizzard. Impelled by necessity we kept on, and at 
 length reached the shelter of some woods. Here 
 we were detained for a day, and for several days 
 afterwards pressed on through blizzards so blinding 
 
 149
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 that we could not see twenty yards in front of us. 
 The difficulties of travelling with the thermometer 
 between thirty-five and forty below zero, and the 
 wind blowing in our faces at fully forty miles an 
 hour, may be more easily imagined than described. A 
 heavy fall of snow taxed the powers and endurance 
 of our dogs to the utmost, although both Joseph and 
 I went ahead in order to make a trail for them. 
 The dogs' food alone weighed nearly two hundred 
 and fifty pounds. 
 
 With the hope of coming across some Indians, of 
 whom we had heard, we struck across country in a 
 south-easterly direction, but becoming confused 
 by the incessant gales we bore away too far to the 
 east and missed a chain of lakes we knew to exist 
 in that part of the countiy, but reached the Indian 
 encampment on our sixth day out, only to find 
 its deserted appearance explained by a birchbark 
 note informing us that, owing to the scarcity of 
 game, the Indians had left the neighbourhood. 
 Game of every kind seemed to liave deserted the 
 country, and we were vmable to shoot anything. 
 
 On leaving the Indian encampment, we entered 
 a thickly wooded country where the depth and 
 heaviness of the snow greatly impeded the dogs in 
 spite of the fact that two of us were always ahead 
 to break the trail. Travelling in this manner day 
 after day, well aware that we were lost, and that our 
 provisions were dwindling with unpleasant rapidity, 
 we pressed steadily on in the direction of the Nelson 
 
 150
 
 A Thousand Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 River, which would at least lead us down to the coast 
 at York Factory. We had now been out twelve 
 days, and when we camped that night things did 
 not look too bright. Next afternoon, however, we 
 came quite unexpectedly upon an old Indian trail 
 running south, almost obliterated and invisible to 
 any but Indian eyes ; this, our guide was confident, 
 would take us to the lakes we had missed, where we 
 might find Indians from whom we could obtain fish 
 both for ourselves and dogs. 
 
 We gave the dogs their last meal that night, and 
 early next morning resumed our journey in a much 
 more hopeful frame of mind. After some hours of 
 heavy tramping we came out upon the first of the 
 lakes and were able *3 form an idea of how far we 
 had wandered from our true course. 
 
 No difficulty was experienced in finding the Indian 
 shacks, but to our extreme disappointment not only 
 were they deserted but their condition and the 
 presence of the carcases of several dogs gave ample 
 evidence of destitution and starvation. 
 
 On the evening of the same day we succeeded in 
 overtaking the Indians, whom we found encamped 
 in tlie woods when we came upon them. Tliey were 
 entirely witliout food — fish, rabbits and ptarmigan 
 having disappeared from tlie district; they were 
 trying to make their way to the trading post, distant 
 two or tliree days' journey, in order to obtain reHef. 
 Two or three of them, in the last stages of exhaustion, 
 were unable to walk or even to stand. A boy of 
 
 151
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 sixteen, belonging to one of two families who had 
 come from York, became lost in a gale, and though 
 they spent several days in looking for him he was 
 never found, and evidently died from exposure. 
 
 It was a most heart-rending sight to see these 
 poor creatures camping thus in the woods; and our 
 inability to render them immediate assistance only 
 served to increase the pity of it. Reduced as we 
 were to one scanty meal a day, with no food at all 
 for the dogs, we could only give them a little tea and 
 sugar, and promises of help when we reached the 
 trading post. To share our last morsels with them 
 would have meant slow starvation for all of us. 
 
 When we finally reached Split Lake on the third 
 day after we left the Indians, our dogs had been for 
 three days without food, and we ourselves had to be 
 content with a drink of tea in the morning followed 
 by a very scanty meal at the end of the day's tramp. 
 We had been eighteen days on our trip from 
 Churchill, and the combined effects of exposure and 
 lack of sufficient food had tested our powers of 
 endurance to the utmost. Our half-starved dogs 
 were almost in a state of collapse and scarcely able 
 to drag themselves along. Assistance was imme- 
 diately dispatched to the starving Indians, and a 
 few days later, in tlic last stages of exhaustion, 
 they were all brought in to the post. 
 
 Split Lake in those days consisted of three small 
 log-cabins, one of which, boasting one room only, 
 was the home of the officer in charge. This room,
 
 -•^S— — 
 
 REV. [. l.OFTHOUSE HAULING SLEUGE 
 
 ESKIMO 1)()(;S AM> M,KI)(;E
 
 A Thousand Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 about twenty feet long by eighteen wide, was 
 furnished with a simphcity to which the tradi- 
 tional Spartan would, I think, have strongly 
 objected. 
 
 The furniture consisted of a box-stove in the centre 
 of the room, a bed in each of two corners, and a 
 rough couch against one wall. All of course were 
 home-made and of the roughest kind, and there 
 were no chairs of any sort. 
 
 I was most heartily welcomed by the man in charge, 
 a Red River half-breed, and, after some conversation, 
 acceded with alacrity to his suggestion of a wash, as 
 I had had no opportunity of washing or of changing 
 my clothes for nearly three weeks. But when I 
 perceived what facilities the shanty possessed, a 
 feeling of amusement almost overcame my chagrin 
 and disappointment. 
 
 In obedience to his father's orders, the son of the 
 house, a boy of twelve, placed a stool at my disposal, 
 a tin dish containing not more than a pint of water, 
 and a towel no larger than a pocket-handkerchief, 
 and by no means white or clean, and indicated that 
 the preparations were complete. However, in 
 spite of the limited means at my disposal, and the 
 presence of several Indian women, I managed fairly 
 well, and at least got off the upper coating, 
 and then sat down to a most welcome meal of 
 sturgeon, a royal fish which is unknown to us at 
 Churchill. 
 
 I remained at Split Lake for ten days, hospitably 
 153
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 entertained by the officer in charge, and sharing 
 the daily life and single room of the family. 
 
 To the 150 Indians at that time dwelling at the 
 post or in the vicinity my coming was a source of 
 the greatest satisfaction and delight. Our services, 
 held three or four times a day, were thronged with 
 worshippers . I remember on one occasion j ourneying 
 50 miles in one day in order to administer Holy 
 Communion to an old Indian woman, a devout 
 Christian, whom I had known as a resident of York 
 Factory for many years. 
 
 Another event which stands out prominently in 
 my memory was a meeting attended by the chief 
 and councillors, at which they gladly undertook to 
 construct a school-house if we would only send them 
 a teacher. I promised to send my guide, Joseph 
 Kitchekesik, the next summer, and later on to 
 appoint an ordained man. Of the seventy-five 
 families which made up the population of the native 
 village, many had dwelt in that neighbourhood for 
 years without anyone to look after their spiritual 
 welfare; yet I found that services were being con- 
 ducted regularly by the chief, and that the Lord's 
 Day was observed much more strictly than in any 
 civilized town or village I know. 
 
 Our dogs seemed to have recovered completely 
 when we left Split Lake to return home via York 
 Factory, 300 miles distant, but three days later 
 two of them died, and we had to help the survivors 
 in hauling the load. Owing to the heaviness of 
 
 154
 
 A Thousand Miles on Snow-Shoes 
 
 the trail, our rate of progress was very slow, so that 
 we did not reach the coast at York until the eleventh 
 day, both tired out and without food. 
 
 Letters reached me on the nth of April, just 
 two months after I had left home, from which I 
 learned that my wife was far from well and feeling 
 much anxiety on my account. In order to reassure 
 her as soon as possible, therefore, I left York on the 
 13th, accompanied by my boy-driver, and three 
 dogs, for Churchill, where we arrived after a very 
 tiresome journey of seven days through soft snow. 
 My wife was very greatly relieved by my arrival. 
 
 During the ten weeks of my absence she had 
 never heard a word of, or from, me, and whilst I 
 was tramping a thousand miles on my snow-shoes, 
 she had been left alone except for the companion- 
 ship of an Indian girl. Battling with storms and 
 starvation is far less trying than such waiting 
 and watching. No one living in civilized or even in 
 semi-civilized lands can at all realize what loneliness 
 means in the north — the silence, the vast solitudes, 
 and the awful feeling of helplessness they engender. 
 These can only be realized by those who have en- 
 dured them. 
 
 155
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 ACROSS THE NORTHERN BARREN LANDS 
 
 There was quite a large number of both Chipewyans 
 and Eskimos who seldom if ever came to Churchill. 
 These people lived chiefly to the north-west of the 
 post, away on the barren lands. For a long time 
 I had wished to visit them and see if anything could 
 be done for them, but up to 1896 I had never been 
 able to get away. The work of the Mission was now, 
 however, on a more settled basis, and, early in July, 
 1896, I was able to leave Churchill in my small 
 Peterborough canoe, with two Indians, taking with 
 us a month's supply of food, for we were not at all 
 sure of meeting any Indians or Eskimos, the country 
 being so vast that one can easily travel in it for a 
 month and not meet a soul. 
 
 It was our intention to explore the Tha-anni 
 and Fish Rivers, which enter Hudson's Bay about 
 one hundred miles north of Churchill; they had 
 never been ascended by a white man, as far as I 
 could gather, and their courses were but vaguely 
 known from native descriptions. 
 
 We started auspiciously on a beautifully fine day. 
 The ice had cleared off early from the coast, so that 
 we were able to paddle across Button's Bay in four 
 
 156
 
 Across the Northern Barren Lands 
 
 hours, a journey which once took me, following 
 the indentations of the coast, eighteen hours to 
 accomplish. We were greatly pleased at reaching 
 North River in such quick time, and still more so 
 when a fresh breeze sprang up by the aid of which 
 we sailed past Seal River, one of the most dangerous 
 spots on the coast, almost to Long Point, 40 miles 
 in a direct line from Churchill. At Long Point, which 
 we reached at 8 a.m. next morning, we found one 
 Eskimo family, with whom we spent a short time, 
 and then pressed on. Shortly after, resuming our 
 journey, a strong head- wind compelled us to put 
 ashore and camp at a spot where the ubiquitous 
 mosquito seemed to be particularly bloodthirsty. 
 
 On the following day, after passing Egg Island, 
 we turned down a deep inlet into which the Tha- 
 anni and Fish Rivers flow. This proved to be a 
 most difficult place for canoeing ; the ebb-tide recedes 
 at least ten miles from the shore, which is very low 
 and flat, and in the shallow water big stones were 
 visible on every hand, and many more just within 
 a few inches of the surface. In this dangerous situa- 
 tion we had the misfortune to be overtaken by a 
 most severe thunderstorm. We could neither land 
 nor seek any shelter on the water: for a time we were 
 in the gravest danger, and I made sure we would be 
 dashed to pieces. 
 
 With the passing of the rain I beheld a sight which 
 in its enthralling beauty made me for a time at least 
 oblivious of the precarious situation in which we 
 
 157
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 were placed. The sky seawards was entirely 
 obscured by a mass of dense black clouds, and, 
 against this dark background, from north to south, 
 appeared a series of seven distinct rainbows in 
 concentric arcs. The brilliancy of their marvellous 
 colouring stood out with startling vividness and 
 furnished an awe-inspiring spectacle such as has 
 been vouchsafed to few men. It was a sight of 
 wondrous splendour, destined to live in the memory 
 for ever. One becomes accustomed to most wonder- 
 ful natural sights in the north country, and I have 
 seen many, but never anything equal to this. 
 
 We managed at last to make the shore at a point 
 where there was neither firewood nor fresh water, 
 but we dared not put out to sea again in the rough 
 water which followed in the wake of the storm, and 
 had to stay there; after going about three miles 
 through swamps we managed to get some rather 
 brackish water and a few sticks of driftwood, so 
 that we were able to get a cup of tea, the traveller's 
 one comfort in the north. 
 
 Next day the sea had gone down somewhat, and, 
 after a very hard day's paddling, we reached the 
 mouth of the Tha-anni and landed on an island 
 completely covered with the nests of eiderducks. 
 In half an hour we gathered over three hundred 
 eggs. Many of them were more suitable for elec- 
 tioneering purposes than for the breakfast table, 
 but this blemish rather enhanced their value in the 
 eyes of my Indians. 
 
 158
 
 Across the Northern Barren Lands 
 
 In spite of tlie large volume of water which comes 
 down these rivers, a small boat would find great 
 difficulty in finding a channel of sufficient depth 
 owing to the extreme breadth of their mouths and 
 the consequent shallowness ol the water. Some 
 miles higher up the river the banks rise to a height of 
 20 feet. The country on both sides is one vast mossy 
 plain, without the vestige of a tree or shrub upon it. 
 
 We spent the next day, Sunday, in camp, according 
 to custom, where we could only avoid the mad- 
 dening persecution of the mosquitoes by thrusting 
 our heads into the smoke of the fire : of the two evils 
 semi-suffocation was infinitely the less. 
 
 On Monday morning we started at 4.30, and soon 
 reached the first rapid, where the river narrows down 
 to some thirty yards wide. A fall compelled us to 
 make a portage of a quarter of a mile. After travers- 
 ing a few miles of smooth water, we encountered in 
 the next fifteen an unbroken series of heavy rapids, 
 in one of which we narrowly escaped a disastrous 
 accident, for our canoe became caught under a heavy 
 fall as we were trying to haul her upstream. Luckily 
 we managed to extricate it intact, and the only 
 damage suffered was the loss of a few articles and a 
 thorough drenching of the rest. 
 
 After some days of hard work we left the rapids 
 behind, greatly to our relief, and emerged on to a 
 large lake, which we crossed, only to encounter, 
 to our disgust, rapids much more formidable than 
 those we had just passed. 
 
 159
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 The Imnks of the river at this point were still 
 lined with ice, although it was the middle of July, 
 an unwelcome addition to the difficulties and dangers 
 of the rapids, and it was with the greatest delight 
 that we came at length to the broad expanse of a 
 large lake, which the Indians called Sucholintoa. 
 This lake divides the head-waters of the Tha-anni 
 from those of the Fish River. From the top of a 
 neighbouring hill, some five hundred feet high, we 
 obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding 
 country. 
 
 It was possible to trace the courses of the two 
 rivers almost down to the coast, and never before had 
 I seen such a network of lakes and streams as was 
 spread out beneath my eyes on that occasion. The 
 country was wild and desolate in appearance, and 
 almost treeless. Traces of an Eskimo encamp- 
 ment were visible, but no signs of the natives 
 themselves. 
 
 From this lake we proceeded by a small river 
 through another smaller lake into a large lake, 
 which the Indians called Thaolintoa or Pipestone 
 Lake, from the shores of which the Eskimos and 
 Indians obtain the soft pipestone used in manu- 
 facturing pipes, stone lamps, and cooking utensils. 
 
 This lake is fully twenty miles in length, running 
 east and west, and about half that distance in 
 breadth. Deer abounded in the vicinity, and we 
 had no difficulty in keeping ourselves well supplied 
 with all the fresh meat we needed. At the western 
 
 i6o
 
 Across the Northern Barren Lands 
 
 end of this lake we entered the Upper Tha-anni 
 River, a fine broad stream with very swift current 
 but no rapids, which took us into Tlia-anni Lake, 
 a magnificent sheet of water over sixty miles in 
 length, though divided into three parts by narrow 
 channels. The first part, nearly twenty miles long, 
 is bounded on the north by bare, bleak hills, of no 
 great height, and on the south by lower land studded 
 with a few stunted pine-trees. Here we came upon 
 traces of Indians, of no recent date, however, being 
 probably two or three years old. Heavy ice greatly 
 impeded our progress and several times compelled 
 us to make portages over its surface. On entering 
 the third section of the lake we altered our course 
 so as to strike the north-west corner, where the 
 Indians often camp in the autumn. The aspect 
 of the country remained unchanged, bare, bleak, 
 and treeless. 
 
 Although we were now within three days' journey 
 of Lake Yath Kiad, or Yathkyed, on the Kazan 
 River (visited in the year 1894 by Mr. J. B. Tyrrell 
 and his party), the reported dwelling-place of large 
 numbers of Eskimos, we nevertheless resolved to 
 retrace our steps, not thinking it wise to penetrate 
 farther into the desolate interior, especially as we 
 had seen no traces of recent encampments and the 
 time we had allowed for the trip was up. 
 
 On the 23rd of July, therefore, we started for home, 
 after having explored a deep bay in which we found 
 a number of old tents abandoned by their owners 
 
 161 L
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 in the previous summer. With a fair wind we sailed 
 across the lake until the ice put an end to that easy 
 mode of traveUing. The wind was still in our 
 favour when we re-entered the river, and by its aid, 
 together with the swift current, we covered the 
 distance to Lake Thaolintoa in thirteen hours. It 
 had taken us four days to accomphsh that much on 
 the way up. 
 
 At Lake Thaolintoa we decided to return by way 
 of the Fish River. A succession of short portages 
 and paddles across small lakes brought us to Lake 
 Todatara, from which we soon reached the river. 
 The current was very swift, but there was fortunately 
 an absence of rapids until we had descended its 
 course to within 20 miles of the coast. In shooting 
 these we nearly came to grief more than once : at 
 length, however, we arrived at the coast in safety, 
 and were not a little surprised to find that the 
 return trip had taken only half the time we had spent 
 in ascending the Tha-anni. 
 
 We were very fortunate in getting fuie weather 
 during our trip along the coast, and reached 
 Churchill on the last day of July, after an absence of 
 only twenty-five days. Our early return caused con- 
 siderable astonishment, for the Indians at the post 
 had predicted that we should be at least six weeks on 
 the journey. The trip had been undertaken with 
 the object of locating the Eskimos and Indians of 
 the interior, and to investigate the feasibility of 
 establishing a Mission amongst them. I append 
 
 162
 
 
 1 'WA-'''- W ' '^
 
 Across the Northern Barren Lands 
 
 a short extract from a report I sent in to the Bishop 
 of Moosonee on my return: 
 
 " It is fully proved that the Eskimos and Indians 
 of these regions and those much farther north can 
 be reached by the Tha-anni or Fish Rivers in three 
 weeks irom Churchill, but the great difficulty would 
 be in taking in supplies to maintain a man or men 
 at this outpost. It would be no feather-bed mission- 
 ary work, and would require a man willing to put 
 up with the hardest life possible." 
 
 No effort in this direction has been made up to the 
 present, nor do I see any probability of any being 
 attempted in the near future. We must be content 
 to minister to these people on their irregular visits 
 to Churchill, our most northerly station, described 
 in 1895 by Bishop Newnham as " the dumping off 
 place . . . end of the world . t'other side of 
 nowhere." 
 
 Since the above was written there is a prospect of 
 the establishment of a mission station at Chester- 
 field Inlet, where a very large number of Eskimos 
 are to be met with, but the Chipewyan Indians do 
 not go so far into the north country. 
 
 163
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 INFLUENCE OF MISSION WORK ON THE INDIAN 
 CHARACTER 
 
 On my return from the north the work of the 
 Mission amongst the Eskimos and Indians was 
 renewed with increased vigour as the results of our 
 efforts became more and more apparent year by 
 year. The mollifying influence it seemed to exert 
 over the sullen Indian character was especially 
 gratifying. 
 
 When we first came to Churchill we found their 
 superstitions and apathy most discouraging. In 
 striking contrast to the Eskimos, who are exceed, 
 ingly grateful for the least thing done for them, the 
 Indians were entirely different, a people, it seemed, 
 to whom gratitude was unknown : in fact, as I have 
 already mentioned, the term " Thank you " does 
 not exist in the Chipewyan language, neither did it 
 seem to exist in their thoughts. If you gave them 
 anything, they would snatch it out of 5'our hand 
 and hide it away as if afraid you might change your 
 mind. Towards their women they were callous and 
 inconsiderate to a degree, treating them as beasts 
 of burden, hewers of wood and drawers of water. 
 In days gone by a man would scorn to help his wife 
 
 164
 
 Influence of Mission Work on the Indian 
 
 to erect the tent, cut firewood, or carry a burden of 
 any kind — this was women's work. Laden with 
 naught but his gun he stalked on ahead whilst his 
 wife trudged along behind, bent under a heavy load 
 with possibly one or two children on top. 
 
 Shortly after reaching Churchill I gathered the 
 men together in church and had a long and severe 
 talk with them on this matter. Indian-like they 
 listened and smiled, but for a long time would say 
 nothing; then one of the oldest men amongst them 
 got up and said, as only an Indian can say, " They 
 had listened to the Yalti (minister) and knew that 
 what he said was right and true, but their forefathers 
 had always acted in this way and they could not 
 change." On one occasion I passed through some 
 Indian tents on my way to church, with my wife 
 leaning on my arm. To our surprise we saw the 
 Indians watching us very closely, evidently highly 
 amused at the very strange spectacle of a man 
 assisting his wife, a thing they would have scorned 
 to do. But, thank God, we lived to see all this 
 changed. I well remember one young fellow who 
 helped his sick wife to church for many weeks, even 
 carrying her across creeks and swamps on his back 
 or in his arms, and in church finding her places in 
 the service books and tending her with unremitting 
 care. It became a common sight to see an Indian 
 man thus helping his wife and occasionally even 
 carrying the baby. No longer was the aged and 
 infirm father or mother left to die alone in the 
 
 165
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 wilds according to the ancient custom. I have 
 known Indians to haul their old and sick people 
 for days together, nursing them with the greatest 
 tenderness on the way. Anyone who has a practical 
 and not a mere theoretical knowledge of Indian life 
 in the far north will understand what this means, 
 and what testimony it bears to the wonderful power 
 of the Gospel. I have seen the time when I could 
 understand and even sympathize with the Indians 
 leaving their sick and aged to die. 
 
 After the mild excitement occasioned by the arrival 
 and departure of the annual ship had subsided we 
 settled down to the winter's work. The strain was 
 beginning to tell on both my wife and myself, and we 
 were forced to recognize the fact that we could not 
 stand the strenuous life of the north very much 
 longer; especially was this the case with my wife, 
 who, since the birth of our one child, had never been 
 so strong as formerly. 
 
 However, in the following April I paid my usual 
 visit to York Factory in order to give the Indians 
 of the district an opportunity of partaking of Holy 
 Communion and to baptize any children who might 
 have been born since my last visit. It is really 
 wonderful how much these people reverence the 
 Sacraments: no hardship is so severe, no distance so 
 great, as to cause them to forego an opportunity of 
 obtaining them. Some people, of course, might say, 
 " Oh yes, this is all superstition; they look upon 
 these things as a sort of fetish;" if so, I can only 
 
 i66
 
 Influence of Mission Work on the Indian 
 
 wish we had more of this sort of fetish amongst 
 civiHzed Christians. 
 
 As a case in point, I remember that whilst on a 
 visit to York Factory one Easter, Joseph Kitche- 
 kesik, our native catechist, tramped in from Severn, 
 275 miles away, all alone, and dependent entirely 
 upon his gun for support. To my rather angry 
 remonstrance (for I feared that he would be unable 
 to return to his post until the summer) he very 
 calmly replied : " For eighteen months I have had no 
 opportunity of kneeling at the Lord's Table: I knew 
 you would be here for Easter: therefore I came." 
 
 After spending Easter Day with us he started 
 back alone, as he had come, hauling his flat sled, 
 which carried his blankets and a few pounds of food. 
 
 Prevented by the fast-melting snow from return- 
 ing through the woods, he struck right out along the 
 shores of the Bay, where the ice was still firm. At 
 night, however, he was unable to reach the shore 
 owing to a large stream of water betwixt him and the 
 coast, formed by the melting snow. Unable to get 
 ashore to camp in the woods, he was compelled to 
 wrap himself in his robe and sleep on the ice without 
 either shelter or fire. He made a meal of biscuit 
 washed down by a drink of ice water, for he could not, 
 of course, cook anything, and spent the night alone 
 on the ice several miles from the shore. A second 
 night was spent in a similar manner, and on the 
 third day he managed to get ashore and gain the 
 shelter of the woods, through which he tramped 
 
 167
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 until he reached his destination at the end of the 
 tenth day, having travelled 550 miles to partake of 
 Holy Communion with me at York. Devotion such 
 as this seems to put to shame the perfunctory zeal 
 of many civilized Christians, apparently proving 
 that in too many instances the Sacraments are 
 esteemed in proportion to the difficulty experienced 
 in obtaining them. There is such a thing as making 
 the Gospel too cheap. 
 
 On my way home from this visit at York, which 
 lasted about a week, we encountered such very 
 severe weather — the thermometer being far below 
 zero — -that my face and legs were very badly frozen. 
 The severity and duration of the winter on the 
 shores of the Bay may be readily imagined from the 
 fact that the date of my return was the 19th of April, 
 within two weeks of the beginning of May. I was 
 completely used up and fain to confess that I could 
 not stand the life much longer: a younger man was 
 needed for it. 
 
 A week or two later, however, I was off again to 
 visit some Indians at Seal River, 30 miles north 
 of Churchill. For fifteen hours, from 5 a.m. to 
 8 p.m., we tramped on, frequently having to wade 
 through water which lay nearly a foot deep on 
 the ice. After a stay of only a day or two we 
 set out to return, and found this journey much 
 more trying than the going, for we were in water up 
 to the knees nearly all the way, and in several 
 places it rose to our waists, and the dogs had to 
 
 168
 
 Influence of Mission Work on the Indian 
 
 swim. We reached home in an exhausted state 
 after twenty hours of this sort of travelHng. 
 
 These expeditions are of a nature sufficiently 
 arduous to take a great deal out of any man; and 
 though at the time their exhausting effects are merely 
 general and temporary, it is impossible for anyone 
 to undertake them year after year without impairing 
 the strongest constitution. At first I seemed able 
 to stand any amount of hardship: no amount of 
 exposure seemed to affect me, and I was accustomed 
 to sleeping on the wet — not merely damp — ground 
 without the slightest fear or uneasiness. Now, 
 however, I could no longer do so in spite of the 
 heartfelt joy experienced in ministering to the poor 
 souls starving spiritually, and often physically, in 
 the desolate wilderness of the north. 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A LONG AND TEDIOUS JOURNEY HOME TO 
 
 ENGLAND 
 (1898) 
 
 During the early summer things so turned out 
 that we had to decide to give up our work. Our 
 departure was to take place as soon as the annual 
 ship arrived from England, for, although we were 
 not sailing for home by the Hudson's Bay vessel — 
 as I had to return by way of Winnipeg in order to 
 visit York, and if possible Split Lake — yet we had 
 to wait for the ship so as to obtain a passage in the 
 coast-boats which were to carry the portion of her 
 cargo intended for York, as the captain had refused 
 to go to that port on account of the difficulty of 
 getting into the harbour there. 
 
 The ship arrived on the 6th of August, and on the 
 loth we were told to be in readiness to embark on 
 the boats next morning. 
 
 The people amongst whom we had laboured so 
 long, Chipewyans, Eskimos, and English-speaking 
 natives, greatly affected by the approaching loss of 
 their pastor, implored me to remain with them 
 and I had quite decided to stick to my post for some 
 time longer, and let my wife go home in the ship, 
 
 i/O
 
 A Long and Tedious Journey to England 
 
 when a serious illness of my wife in July forced me 
 to alter my resolution. 
 
 It was impossible to send her home alone as in- 
 tended, for she was still confined to her bed when 
 the ship arrived. She was so weak on the loth that 
 she had to be carried down to the boats. Many of 
 our people had assembled at the landing to see us off, 
 and there were few dry eyes amongst them when 
 we bade them a final adieu. Taking our places in the 
 boats, we proceeded 5 miles down the river to where 
 the Eric was at anchor, and, by the kind courtesy 
 of the captain, were permitted to spend the night 
 on board, which was much more comfortable than 
 the boat. She was to tow us out of the river in the 
 early morning. 
 
 Soon after 3 a.m. the officer in charge of the boats 
 roused us out in a great hurry, insisting that we must 
 start at once as the wind was fair, and without so 
 much as a cup of tea which the captain wanted to 
 get for us, we were bundled into the boats. My wife 
 had to be carried into the boat we were to occupy. 
 It was full of all kinds of cargo, and the only accom- 
 modation at our disposal was a small cabin, 6 feet 
 square, ventilated solely by its narrow door. For 
 six days and nights Mrs. Lofthouse, in no condition 
 to withstand the unpleasant motion of a small boat, 
 lay on the floor of this tiny cabin wrapped in a rabbit- 
 skin robe. During the whole of that time she was 
 unable to take any food, and when we reached York 
 was so weak that she could neither stand nor walk. 
 
 171
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 A week's stay here greatly benefited her health, 
 though she was hardly in a fit condition to undertake 
 a canoe trip of 400 miles: there was, however, no 
 other course open to us but to continue our journey 
 in faith and hope. The York Indians greatly appre- 
 ciated our brief sojourn in their midst, and we spent 
 a very happy week in ministering to their needs. 
 
 The weather had been very unsettled for some 
 days, but the morning of the 24th, the day of our 
 departure, dawned clear and fine, a happy omen and 
 answer to the prayers of many friends. Our party 
 of seven embarked in two canoes already almost 
 filled with baggage and provisions. In the first, 
 paddled by two York Indians, were my wife and I. 
 The second contained our faithful Joseph Kitche- 
 kesik, a native girl, and an Indian boy. We were all 
 packed very much after the manner of the proverbial 
 herrings and sardines. 
 
 Camp was pitched on the first evening a few miles 
 up the Hayes River. In spite of the short distance 
 traversed, we were only too glad to have an oppor- 
 tunity of stretching our cramped limbs: the damp- 
 ness of the ground was a minor evil. 
 
 The weather continued to be favourable, and we 
 made excellent progress each day; nevertheless, it 
 was somewhat trying to sit stiU for fourteen or 
 sixteen hours every day, and especially so for my 
 wife, so that our day of rest on Sunday came as a 
 welcome relief. A quiet day in camp, with two 
 enjoyable services in which our Indians took part, 
 
 172
 
 A Long and Tedious Journey to England 
 
 afforded us a chance to recoup our energies and re- 
 lieved the monotony of the journey. 
 
 During the greater part of the week following we 
 were working up rapids and making long portages, 
 for there are nearly forty portages between York 
 and Oxford House in coming up the river. Among 
 many uncomfortable days and nights that of the 
 3rd of September was, without doubt, the most 
 wretched. 
 
 The day had been very hot, heavy thunder- 
 storms had passed over us, and the long paddle 
 across Knee Lake had tired the men very much 
 Consequently, when we encountered a rather lengthy 
 and formidable rapid late in the evening, we resolved 
 to pitch our tents as soon as we had carried our 
 outfit to the head of the cataract. It proved to be 
 a very bad place for a camp, but as the storm seemed 
 over, and we were very tired, we thought it would 
 do for the short night. In a slight hollow in the 
 rocks, therefore, the only place available, our tent 
 was pitched and weighted down with stones, as it 
 was impossible to make use of tent pegs, and after 
 supper and prayers we turned in to a well-earned 
 rest as we thought. About an hour later a terrific 
 storm burst upon us : a violent gale beat full against 
 the door of our tent, and rain fell in torrents. As I 
 was lying on the most exposed side of the tent, I 
 was the first to become aware that the water was 
 simply pouring in and saturating our blankets and 
 rabbitskin robe. Almost immediately we found 
 173
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 ourselves standing in 3 inches of water, and were 
 obliged to hang on to the tent poles to prevent it 
 from being blown into the river, only a few yards 
 awtiy. In this attitude we were forced to remain 
 throughout the whole night, for though the rain 
 ceased after some hours the gale continued wdth 
 unabated vigour, and we had to sit up the whole 
 night 
 
 At dawn the men departed in search of firewood, 
 and after several attempts succeeded in starting a 
 fire. Fortified by a cup of tea, we stood for some 
 time around the fire in an endeavour to keep warm, 
 a wretched-looking group in sodden garments, for 
 it still continued to rain, though not so heavily as 
 it had done. Finally we resolved to push on to 
 Oxford House, which was only half a day's journey 
 away. Three or four portages had to be made 
 before we reached there; the trails were through 
 high willows, so that when we reached the post 
 we looked and felt like half-drowned rats. 
 
 Two days' rest was required to reinvigorate our 
 exhausted bodies and to dry our saturated clothing. 
 On few occasions have I appreciated shelter, warm 
 food, dry clothing, and a bed so much as at that 
 time. 
 
 Leaving Oxford, a journey of six days brought us 
 to Norway House, where we arrived without incident 
 on the thirty-second day from leaving our home 
 at Churchill. On the following day we were agree- 
 ably surprised by the arrival of a Mr. C. Chapman, 
 
 174
 
 A Long and Tedious Journey to England 
 
 a young layman from Canada, who was on his way 
 to continue our work at Churchill. His advent 
 greatly cheered me, for I was beginning to be de- 
 spondent and fearful lest the discontinuance of the 
 work at Churchill should cause a return to faithless- 
 ness and barbarism amongst the flock we had left. 
 It was my earnest wish to return with him, for I 
 knew better than he, or any other man, the trials 
 of the lonely life to which he was devoting himself. 
 My wife would not, however, hear of this for a 
 moment. No doubt she was in a better position than 
 I to judge of my fitness to undertake the journey. 
 As we were now in the land of steamers I was able 
 to leave my wife to continue the journey to Winnipeg 
 alone, whilst I was free at any rate to accompany 
 Mr. Chapman as far as Split Lake, beyond which I 
 had promised faithfully I would not go. 
 
 With our native catechist and the two York 
 Indians, we descended the Nelson River for 260 miles 
 to Split Lake, passing Cross Lake on our way. 
 
 This river is one of the most difficult and dangerous 
 streams in the north to canoe upon; many of its 
 rapids are very bad, and it is full of whirlpools in 
 certain places. Mr. Chapman, who had spent many 
 years in the Muskoka country, and had often run 
 rapids before, considered himself an expert canoe- 
 man, but after running an exceptionally dangerous 
 rapid, where he wisely followed my advice and sat 
 still in the bottom of the canoe, remarked to me, 
 with a very white face, " Mr. Lofthouse, if there are 
 
 175
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 any more rapids like that on the river, let us get out 
 and walk." I reassured him by saying that the 
 Indians woukl never attempt an impossible rapid, 
 and that when left to themselves, and not interfered 
 with by white men, their skill and care was such 
 that accidents were almost unknown. 
 
 We reached Split Lake in five days, and there we 
 parted, he to go on with two Indians to York Factory 
 via Fox Lake and River, I to rejoin my wife in 
 Winnipeg. By a curious coincidence Mr. Chapman 
 reached York on the 2nd of October, the very 
 date of my arrival there fourteen years previously. 
 
 A pleasant stay of a few days at Split Lake 
 enabled me to appreciate the excellent work done by 
 our native catechist, and then I set out to return 
 to Norway House, which I reached on the 3rd of 
 October. 
 
 Soon afterwards I started to cross Lake Winnipeg 
 in a small York boat, as the last steamer of the 
 season had already left. On the 15th of October, 
 after a most stormy voyage in cold and snowy 
 weather, we landed at Selkirk, twenty miles from 
 Winnipeg, and my canoe journeying of over two 
 months' duration was at an end. 
 
 The last stage, however, of five or six thousand 
 miles by land and sea still remained, but we were now 
 in the midst of the luxuries of modern travel. There 
 would be no more days of uncomfortable canoeing, 
 no more rapids, no wading of icy rivers, and no nights 
 of hunger and exposure. 
 
 176
 
 A Long and Tedious Journey to England 
 
 It is difficult for me even at this distance of time 
 to conceal a smile when I hear fellow-travellers in 
 Pullman cars and ocean liners complain loudly at 
 some trifling inconvenience or disturbance. I always 
 wish they could spend a few months with me in the 
 north; when they returned there would be no more 
 grumbling— at least, for a time. 
 
 From Winnipeg we made our way to New York 
 via Montreal, and on the 15th of December landed in 
 Liverpool after four months of continuous travelling 
 since leaving our little home in the north — " the last 
 house in the world," as it has been well called. 
 
 177 M
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ANOTHER VENTURE IN THE NORTH 
 (1899) 
 
 After I had spent some six months in England, 
 doing deputation work for the Church Missionary 
 Societ}^ and raising some funds for our own Missions 
 in the Hudson's Bay country, Bishop Newnham 
 wrote me urging, if possible, my return to the 
 Diocese to establish our Mission of Split Lake, as he 
 had secured a man for that work, and wished me to 
 go with him and spend some months there. 
 
 It was quite impossible for my wife and family to 
 accompany me, so I arranged for them to remain in 
 England, and in July I returned to Canada as Arch- 
 deacon of Keewatin, an honour which I had refused 
 when the Bishop was in the north in 1895, 
 
 In passing through Eastern Canada I stayed for a 
 few days with my old friend Mr. J. W. Tyrrell in 
 Hamilton, and was informed that the Canadian 
 Government was planning an expedition to explore 
 and survey the Barren Lands of the north from 
 Edmonton to Marble Island on Hudson's Bay, and 
 that Mr. Tyrrell had been asked to undertake this. 
 He was very anxious that I should accompany him 
 as one of his staff. This I was very willing to do, 
 
 178
 
 Another Venture in the North 
 
 if I could get the consent of my Bishop, for it would 
 give me the very opportunity I had wanted for years 
 of reaching the more northerly of our Eskimos. I 
 therefore wrote the Bishop, who happened to be in 
 Canada, and he willingly gave his consent. Mr. 
 Tyrrell got me appointed, and I arranged to meet 
 him in Winnipeg the following December, when the 
 expedition was to start. 
 
 Going on to Winnipeg I met Bishop Newnham in 
 August. He was again about to visit the Missions 
 in the north, and had secured a young student from 
 St. John's College, named Fox, to go to Split Lake, 
 and I was to accompany him, spend some months 
 with him, and then return to Winnipeg to meet 
 Mr. Tyrrell and start for the northland. 
 
 Mr. Fox was ordained in Winnipeg, and in August 
 we all started across Lake Winnipeg, Bishop Newn- 
 ham taking with him Mrs. Chapman and her two 
 children to join her husband at Churchill. Our two 
 parties kept together until we reached the Nelson 
 River some twenty miles north of Norway House, 
 when Bishop Newnham and his party took the usual 
 canoe route to York Factory, which I had so often 
 followed, whilst Mr. Fox and I went down the Nelson 
 River to Split Lake. 
 
 The weather was not too kind to us, for it rained 
 constantly, but rain or no rain we had to travel, and 
 Mr. Fox, new to the country and the mode of travel, 
 found it, as all new-comers do, rather trying to sit 
 all day in an open canoe with the rain pouring down 
 
 179
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 upon him. We had one specially bad time the day 
 after we left Norway House, and Mr. Fox told me 
 afterwards that had we been within reach of a 
 steamer he would certainly have turned back. 
 Fortunately we were in a place where turning back 
 was impossible, for Mr. Fox afterwards proved 
 himself one of the very best missionaries we ever 
 had in the north, and put in some fifteen years of 
 most devoted service. He got a remarkable hold 
 of the Cree language, in which he could both think, 
 speak, and even dream. 
 
 We reached Split Lake without anything worse 
 than soaked clothing, and took up our abode in a 
 very small and not quite watertight lean-to room, 
 in which few people in England would have kept 
 their cattle ; but there was no other to be had, so we 
 had to be content. 
 
 Our first work was to construct a mission house, 
 and at this we both worked much more than eight 
 hours a day, our recreation being holding services 
 with the Indians in a small log shack which had been 
 built for the catechist, there being as yet no church. 
 
 As soon as the winter set in, which was early 
 in November, I began visiting the Indians in the 
 surrounding country, often travelling 50 miles a day 
 on my snow-shoes. There were about seventy-five 
 families or roughly three hundred souls scattered 
 over hundreds of miles of country. In this v/ay the 
 time passed very quickly, and the last week in 
 November I started on my tramp of 500 miles to 
 
 180
 
 Another Venture in the North 
 
 Winnipeg. On the ist of December I reached 
 Norway House, 250 miles away, where we rested for 
 two or three days, and I greatly enjoyed the comfort 
 of a bed and decent meals at the Methodist mission 
 station where Dr. Mason had first laboured before 
 he joined the Church of England and began work at 
 York Factory. 
 
 Leaving Norway House we tramped round the 
 north end of Lake Winnipeg up the Saskatchewan 
 River at Grand Rapids, then across Cedar Lake into 
 Winnipegosis until we struck the railway at a place 
 called Mossy, and in a few hours I was back in 
 Winnipeg none the worse for another three months 
 of a very rough life. 
 
 Upon reaching Winnipeg I found that our expedi- 
 tion had been delayed. I therefore went down to 
 Eastern Canada to spend Christmas, a railway 
 journey of near three thousand miles there and back ! 
 Early in February, 1900, our party, or rather part 
 of it, met in Winnipeg and from there went on to 
 Edmonton, where we completed our party of nine and 
 made final arrangements for our trip of ten months. 
 It was, however, the 15th of the month before we 
 could make a start. The first part was a run of 
 150 miles by horse-teams, which is a very luxurious 
 method of travel compared with plodding on snow- 
 shoes. We reached Lac-la-Beche in comfort, and 
 there got our four dog-teams and started out for a 
 walk of 1,150 miles. This was not done in a day 
 or so, but meant keeping on for two months until we 
 
 181
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 got on the edge of the Barren Lands. Here we had 
 to wait until the ice cleared out of the lakes and we 
 could take to our canoes. It is quite impossible in 
 this present volume to give any idea of this journey, 
 but I may do so at some future time. 
 
 We were away from Edmonton just ten months, 
 travelled 5,000 miles by snow-shoes and canoe, never 
 slept in a bed, or met with any of the camp comforts 
 to be found in Africa or more genial climes. 
 
 We got back to Winnipeg on the 15th of December, 
 and on the i8th I started for England and reached 
 my home and family just too late for Christmas. In 
 going over my notes I found that I had travelled 
 over twenty thousand miles in eighteen months, and 
 that nearly six thousand of this was on snow-shoes 
 or by canoe. 
 
 After staying four months in England I again 
 started for Canada in order to go down to Moose 
 Factory, where I first landed in 1882, to take charge 
 of the work there during Bishop Newnham's absence 
 in England. Going on to Missinabie on the Canadian 
 Pacific Railway, I took to my canoe and travelled 
 down the same river up which I came in 1883, before 
 the C.P.R. was completed. 
 
 This trip is really a very pleasant one, being only 
 a matter of some six days. There are some rather 
 heavy rapids, but none of them are at all dangerous. 
 I had with me a young clergyman going to begin his 
 work as a missionary at Rupert's House, and we 
 arrived about the end of May. There had been but 
 
 182
 
 Another Venture in the North 
 
 few changes since I first landed nearly twenty years 
 before, for changes come slowly in this part of the 
 world. 
 
 During the winter I visited Albany, loo miles 
 north of Moose, and Rupert's House, 60 miles 
 south, both of which are flourishing mission stations. 
 Both of these trips were really picnics compared to 
 most of the journeys in the north, as I was enabled 
 to travel in comfort, riding behind a good team of 
 dogs. 
 
 It was a busy but happy time, and the winter and 
 spring passed very pleasantly, and early in June 
 Bishop Newnham and his family arrived bringing 
 the, to me, surprising news that in the previous April 
 I had been appointed the first Bishop of Keewatin, 
 a diocese formed from the north-western portion of 
 Moosonee and a large part of the Diocese of Rupert's 
 Land. 
 
 Leaving Moose about the middle of June, I there- 
 fore made my way back to Missinabie and so on to 
 Winnipeg, where I spent the whole of July in 
 visiting many of the places in the new diocese, and 
 on the 17th of August I was consecrated Bishop of 
 Keewatin. 
 
 Thus my first twenty years of work in the north 
 was ended, to be followed by eighteen years of quite 
 as strenuous work and travel elsewhere, until I had 
 to resign in December, 1920. It was with much pain 
 and sorrow that I gave up my work ; but during the 
 last four years of that period I lost both my wife and 
 
 183
 
 A Thousand Miles from a Post Office 
 
 only daughter, and my own health was beginning to 
 give way under the strain. 
 
 My wife's death was due entirely to the twelve 
 years of real suffering and privation so bravely 
 endured on the shores of that vast inland sea where 
 Henry Hudson, the discoverer, whose grave remains 
 unknown even to this day, laid down his life. 
 
 PRINTED IN GRBAT BRITAIN BV 
 BILLING AND SONS, LTD., UUILDFORQ AND ESHEB
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 DISCHARGE-IRL 
 N0V2 519?8 
 
 FoimL9-75m-7,'61(Cl437s4)444
 
 .^:^^- 
 
 3 1158 00407 9025 ^ 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 001 161 392 4