The wilderness through which this river runs is of such a character that its shores can never be greatly changed in their external appearance. Only a small proportion of its soil can ever be brought under cultivation; and, as its forests are a good deal stunted, its lumbering resources are far from being inexhaustible. The wealth which it contains is probably of a mineral character; and if the reports I hear are correct, it abounds in iron ore. That it would yield an abundance of fine marble, I am certain; for in passing up this stream, the observing eye will frequently fall upon a broad vein of an article as pure as alabaster.
How is it, many people are led to inquire, that so little has been known of the Saguenay country until recently? This question is easily solved. It is a portion of that vast territory which has heretofore been under the partial jurisdiction of the Hudson’s Bay Company. I say partially, for the rights of that powerful monopoly, as I understand the matter, extended only to the protection and use of its wild animals; but it has endeavoured to convince the would-be settler that it was the sole proprietor of the immense domain, and that he had no right to live thereon. Its posts on the Saguenay and St. Lawrence, so far as collecting furs is concerned, are a dead letter, and the journeys of its distinguished Governor are hereafter to be confined to the extreme north.
The man who deserves the most credit for encroaching upon the so-called possessions of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and proving to the world that its power is not without limit, is William Price, Esq., of Quebec. All the saw-mills situated on the Saguenay and the lower St. Lawrence, were established by him, and are now conducted at his expense. He gives employment to some two or three thousand men, and sends to England annually about one hundred ship-loads of lumber, in the shape of deals. He is a thorough-going business man, and, did I not know the fact to be otherwise, I should set him down (with regard to his enterprise) as a thorough native of the Union. Many of the ships alluded to ascend the Saguenay to obtain lumber, as far as Chicoutimi; and it struck me as singularly paradoxical to see ships winding up that river, whose legitimate home would seem to be the broad ocean. The current of the Saguenay flows in some places at the rate of seven miles per hour; but when there is any wind at all, it blows heavily directly from the north or south, so that, with the assistance of the tide, the upward-bound ships or brigs, manage to get along without much difficulty. The only steam-boat which navigates this river is the Pocahontas, and is the property of Mr. Price. She is commanded by a gentleman who understands his business; and I can assure the lovers of scenery everywhere, that a sail up the Saguenay, in this steamer, would be an event they could not easily forget. For the benefit of summer tourists, I would here mention the fact, that for about three months in the year a Quebec steamer makes an occasional trip to the mouth of the Saguenay, by the way of the river Du Loup, which is on the Canadian route to Halifax.
In speaking of the Saguenay, I must not omit to mention its original proprietors, a tribe of Indians who are known as the Mountaineers. Of course, it is the duty of my pen to record the fact, that where once flourished a large nation of brave and heroic warriors, there now exists a little band of about one hundred families. Judging from what I have heard and seen, the Mountaineers were once the very flower of this northern wilderness, even as the Chippeways were once the glory of the Lake Superior region. The Mountaineers of the present day are sufficiently educated to speak a smattering of French, but they know nothing of the true God, and are as poor in spirit, as they are indigent with regard to the necessaries of life. The men of this nation are rather short, but well-formed, and the women are beautiful. They are proud in spirit, intelligent, and kind-hearted; and many of them, it is pleasant to know, are no longer the victims of the baneful fire-water. For this blessing they are indebted to the Romish priesthood, which fact it gives me pleasure to record. The Mountaineers are a particularly honest people, and great friends to the stranger white-man. They are also distinguished for their expertness in hunting, and take pleasure in recording the exploits of their forefathers. And their language, according to a Catholic Missionary, Pierre de Roche, is one of the oldest and purest Indian languages on the continent. It abounds in Latin words, and is capable of being regularly constructed and translated. The qualities, in fine, which make the history of this people interesting are manifold, and it is sad to think of the rapidity with which they are withering away, even as the leaves of a premature autumn.
But it is time that I should give you a brief description of Tadousac, where I have been spending a few days, and whence I date my chapter. The meaning of that word is a French corruption of the Indian word Saguenay. It is situated directly at the mouth of the Saguenay, and commands a fine prospect of that river, as well as of the St. Lawrence, which is here nearly thirty miles in width. Immediately at the base of the hill upon which the hamlet stands, is a beautiful bay, hemmed in with mountains of solid rock. The place is composed of houses belonging to an Indian trading-post, and another dwelling occupied by a worthy Scotchman named Rivington, who is a pilot by profession. The door of my friend’s cabin is always open to the admission of the tourist; and if others who may chance to stop here are treated as kindly as I was, they will be disposed to thank their stars. In front of the trading-post are planted a few cannon, and directly beyond them, at the present time, is a small Indian encampment.
In a rock-bound bay, about half a mile north of my temporary residence, is an extensive lumbering establishment, belonging to William Price. This spot is the principal port of the Saguenay, and the one where belongs the Pocahontas steam-boat. About a dozen paces from the table where I am now writing, is the ruin of a Jesuit religious establishment, which is considered the great curiosity of this region. The appearance of the ruin is not imposing, as you can discover nothing but the foundations upon which the ancient edifice rested; but it is confidently affirmed, that upon this spot once stood the first stone and mortar building ever erected on the continent of North-America. And this statement I am not disposed to question, for, from the very centre of the ruin have grown a cluster of pine trees, which must have been exposed to the wintry blasts of at least two hundred years. The fate and the very names of those who first pitched their tents in this wilderness, and here erected an altar to the God of their fathers, are alike unknown. Who—who can tell what shall be on the morrow?
CHAPTER XIV.
The Salmon—Salmon Adventures.
Tadousac. June.
I intend to devote the present letter to the acknowledged king of all the finny tribes, the lithe, wild, and beautiful salmon. He pays an annual visit to all the tributaries of the St. Lawrence lying between Quebec and Bic Island, (where commences the Gulf of St. Lawrence), but he is most abundant on the north shore, and in those streams which are beyond the jurisdiction of civilization. He usually makes his first appearance about the twentieth of May, and continues in season for two months. Nearly all the streams of this region abound in waterfalls, but those are seldom found, which the salmon does not surmount in his “excelsior” pilgrimage; and the stories related of his leaps are truly wonderful. It is not often that he is found man bound at the head of the streams he may have ascended; but when thus found and captured, his flesh is white, skin black, and his form “long, lank, and lean as is the rebbid sea-sand.” His weight is commonly about fifteen pounds, but he is sometimes taken weighing full forty pounds. The salmon is an important article of export from this region, and is also extensively used by the Indians. The common mode for taking them is with a stationary net, which is set just on the margin of the river at low water. It is customary with the salmon to ascend the St. Lawrence as near the shore as possible, and their running time is when the tide is high; the consequence is, that they enter the net at one tide, and are taken out at another; and it is frequently the case, that upwards of three hundred are taken at one time. The Indian mode for taking them is with the spear by torch-light. Two Indians generally enter a canoe, and while one paddles it noiselessly along, the other holds forth the light (which attracts the attention of the fish, and causes them to approach their enemy), and pierces them with the cruel spear. This mode of taking the salmon is to be deprecated, but the savage must live, and possesses no other means for catching them. It is but seldom that the Indian takes more than a dozen during a single night, for he cannot afford to waste the bounties which he receives from Nature. For preserving the salmon, the Canadians have three modes: first, by putting them in salt for three days, and then smoking them; secondly, by regularly salting them down as you would mackerel; and, thirdly, by boiling, and then pickling them in vinegar. The Indians smoke them, but only to a limited extent.