“Tuesday, June 24th.—Not quite a month out from Athabasca Landing. Have come 553 miles. Steamboat now for the rest of the way north. She is a side-wheeler, pretty big, with several berths and a dining-room. I think she will be pretty well crowded.
“More dogs here. To-day three or four big huskies ate up a little Lapland dog puppy which one of the men had brought along to take home with him. They broke through the bars of the crate and hauled out the puppy and ate him alive! Don’t like the looks of them after dark.
“There is a mission school here. The Church people are against fur-hunting. I don’t see what else the natives can do. If you wanted to buy any fur here you would have to go to the independents and pay a big price. This place had very little to eat left in it when we got here. Not much fish just now, as the river is too high. The cargo of the mission scows is not over the portage yet. Some people of the Anglican Church go north with us, too, also four Northwest Mounted Police, who go to Fort McPherson and Herschel Island. They relieve others who will go out. Lonesome life, I should think.
“Wednesday, June 25th.—Loaded and got off 3 p.m. They call this the Big Slave, then Mackenzie River, but I can’t see why it isn’t just the same river that starts back in the Rocky Mountains. Passed the little steamboat St. Marie. The bishop of this country is on it, also many Indians. Our boat asked him if the ice was out of Great Slave Lake, and he says yes. Tied up very late at night.
“Thursday, June 26th.—Have seen no game. The banks are low and very monotonous. Not very pretty. Most people are playing cards on the boat. No one to talk to but ourselves. Have to slow up because the head wind is filling the scows with water.
“There is very little darkness now, even at midnight, although there is a sort of sunset even yet.
“Friday, June 27th.—Tied up twelve miles from Resolution, in delta of the Slave River. Low marshes all around. Some men on the boat, traders and others, took canoe and paddled over to the post.
“Saturday, June 28th.—This is my birthday. If I were home might have a cake or something. Other boys and Uncle Dick very nice to me. Went out into the lake, but did not dare to chance the waves, so came back in the channel. Our captain is uneasy because he is afraid the independent traders will get into Resolution before we do. Some competition even here. Wind dropped at 9 p.m. We could have gone on, but the Hudson’s Bay always waits if it gets a chance.
“Sunday, June 29th.—The St. Marie and the Caribou, an independent trading-boat, both sighted. Both probably will beat us in to Resolution.
“Monday, June 30th.—Loafed another day. Other boats passed out at night. We started out late. Pulled the nose out of our sturgeon nose scow and she began to settle. All that the men and three pumps could do to keep her from sinking. Got her in shallow water at last and tried to patch her up. This was the Fort Nelson cargo, and it is ruined. Boat covered with smeared calico and blankets and everything else, hung up to dry. Pretty mess they will have at Fort Nelson—but this is all they’ll have for another year! Nobody seems to care.