If you want to enjoy absolute quiet for a season you can have it with a few days’ travel by visiting one of those posts just outside the borders of Canadian civilisation.
No rumblings of carriages, no screeching of whistles, no ringing of bells greet you in the morning. You may perchance hear a cow bell somewhere, but it is in perfect keeping with the tranquil surroundings. In summer if the post is on a lake or river as it usually is you may amuse yourself by paddling or fishing and shooting. But whatever you do it will be in no haste. Even the sun seems to move so slowly, and the days—especially the afternoon—seem loathe to give way to the evenings; and the evenings never end till you have succumbed to somnolent influences and have entered the land of dreams. If I were a physician I would send my over wrought and brain racked patients to one of these posts, and would guarantee a cure of all ordinary mental troubles.
On the Lower Mackenzie the great event of the year is the arrival of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s steamer which makes but one trip a year to Fort McPherson. This steamer takes in the year’s supplies and brings out the furs that have been gathered during the past season from all the surrounding country. In addition to this she brings the “permits.” This term includes not only permission for the individual named to receive ardent spirits but also the article itself which accompanies the permit.
The quantity allowed any one person is supposed to be sufficient to last him till the boat returns again a year hence, but with the improvidence so characteristic of the native, and which the half breed and white trader seem to have copied, this supply is usually consumed in a few days. In some cases the agent at the post may retain a little of the much prized article to treat his brother officers on state occasions, but even this is exceptional.
The story is told of a meeting of officials at one of these posts on a certain occasion after the annual supply had long since been exhausted. During the preceding summer the post had been visited by a party of entomologists who, on leaving for home had left a small jar containing a liquid necessary for their work. After the ordinary business had been attended to, the resident agent expressed his regret at not having the wherewithal properly to entertain his guests. This important and rather unexpected announcement caused a feeling of sadness and disappointment to pass over the visitors which was plainly visible as well as painful to the host, when all at once he remembered that the summer visitors had left something that might in combination with a liberal amount of water act as a substitute for the “real stuff.” The jar was at once sent for and minutely inspected, but whether it would be even safe to taste it, was a question. One of the party expressed himself very strongly that it was nothing “whatever” but deadly poison.
The host however, was very resourceful and just at the psychological moment he saw one of his men, a faithful Scotch half breed, passing with a team of dogs. He at once hailed him and asked him into the august presence of the great men of the company. Archie, with cap in hand, greatly surprised at such conduct on the part of his master, wondered at first what fearful act of insubordination he had committed. To his surprise, however, he was asked to help himself to a decoction which the agent prepared. Archie was then asked to sit down and smoke his pipe before starting out on his long journey with his dog team. The assembly watched eagerly to see the effects on him but none appeared, when the agent filled his glass again making the mixture stronger than before. Sufficient time was then given to show that no evil effects were to follow, when Archie was told that his dogs would be getting cold and that he could go. What happened after this need not be stated!
SECTION XII
MISSIONARIES
The different religious denominations have left to the Roman Catholic and the Anglican the vast field included in the Arctic slope drained by the Mackenzie and its tributaries, as well as that of the Porcupine country to the west and the shores of the Arctic Sea to the north.
At several points here and there over this vast area these two bodies have established missions and schools. Both bodies have been represented by Bishops whose names will not be forgotten by this or the succeeding generation. Bompas of the Anglicans and Grouard of the Roman Catholics well deserve to rank among the greatest of modern missioners. The former came out from England many years ago, and at once entered this far away field. He soon became proficient in the different languages of the country and lived a life of toil and privation of which but little is known, for it is said he seldom spoke of such things. He died at Carcross on the Upper Yukon in 1906 a few months before I was there. His life work has been well portrayed in a recent publication by one of his clergy to which I would refer any one who wishes to be informed on the life and work of this “Great Apostle of the North.”
On our journey from Hay River to Fort McPherson we had as a fellow passenger Bishop Reeves who, for many years had been a co-worker with Bishop Bompas, and his many accounts of the self-sacrificing devotion of the latter prevented our learning much of his own experiences of which he seemed too modest to speak, though it is well known that his best days were spent in the country from which he has recently returned, and is now Coadjutor Bishop of Toronto.