Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

NECK DEVELOPED BY THE TUMP-LINE.

CHAPTER III.
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.

Before leaving the Grand Rapid several good photographs of it were obtained, and then on the morning of the 7th of June, bidding adieu to Inspector Howard, and leaving our supplies in the freighters’ hands, we started down the river for Fort McMurray. The first object of special interest passed was a natural gas flow, occurring on the left bank about fifteen miles below the Rapid. At this place a considerable volume of gas is continually discharging, and may be seen bubbling up through the water over a considerable area, as well as escaping from rifts in the bank. The gas burns with a hot pale blue flame, and is said to be used at times by boatmen for cooking purposes. Eight or ten miles farther down stream came the Brûle Rapids, the first of the long series, and though they might easily have been run, we did not try it, as my brother wished to remain on shore for some time to collect fossils. Meanwhile our stuff was portaged, and without difficulty the empty canoes run down to the foot of the rapids, where camp was made. Just at this place commence the wonderful tar sand-beds of the Athabasca, extending over an enormous area. These certainly present a very striking appearance. During warm weather, in many places, the faces of the river banks, from three to five hundred feet in height, presents the appearance of running tar, and here and there tar wells are found, having been formed by the accumulation of the viscid tar in natural receptacles of the rock. Thus collected it has been commonly made use of by workmen in the calking of the scows on the river.[1]

Sixteen miles farther down, the Boiler Rapid, so called from the fact that in 1882 a boiler intended for the steamer Wrigley was lost in it, was successfully run on the following day, and early in the afternoon the third rapid was reached. In attempting to run it on the left side, we found, after descending perhaps half-way, that there were too many rocks in the channel ahead, and therefore an effort was made to cross to the right side, which looked to be clearer. My brother’s canoe, steered by old Pierre, avoided all rocks and was taken successfully across, but mine was not so fortunate. In attempting to follow, we struck a large rock in mid-channel, but happily the collision occurred in such a way that my canoe was not seriously damaged. It was merely whirled end for end in the current and almost filled with water, though not quite sufficiently to sink us. Leaving the two Indians to pull for the shore, I seized a tin kettle and lost no time in dashing out some of the water. After a sharp struggle we managed to land. Of course all we had in the canoe—instruments, blankets, provisions and clothing—was soaked, and it was therefore necessary to unload and turn everything out. My brother, seeing that something had happened, went ashore also, and with his men returned to assist us. The weather was fine, and our goods soon became sufficiently dry to allow us to re-embark.

An examination having been made of the rapid below, a short run was made down and then across to the opposite side, where we landed, and, because of the extreme shallowness of the channel and the many rocks that showed ominously above the surface, the canoes were lowered for the remaining half mile with the lines. The whole length of this rapid is perhaps a mile and a half, and it is sometimes designated as two, the Drowned and Middle Rapids. Following these in quick succession, at intervals of from two to ten miles, we passed through the Long Rapids, which occasioned no difficulty; then the Crooked Rapids, well named from the fact that they occur at a very sharp U shaped bend in the river, around which the current sweeps with great velocity. Just below this the Stony Rapid was passed, and then in turn the Little and Big Cascades, both of which are formed by ledges of limestone rock, about three feet high, extending in more or less unbroken lines completely across the river.

At the Big Cascade a portage of a few yards had to be made, and below this, smooth water was found for a distance of eight or nine miles, until the head of the Mountain Rapid was reached. Judging from the name that this would be a large one, we decided to go ashore to reconnoitre. For a considerable distance the rapid was inspected, but no unusual difficulty appearing, we resolved to go ahead. About a mile farther on, a bend occurred in the rapid, and so high and steep were the banks that only with great difficulty could we see the river beyond. As far as the bend, though the current was swift, there appeared to be but few rocks near the left bank, and plenty of water. We therefore decided to go ashore at that point, if necessary, and examine the stream beyond.

As we proceeded the stream became fearfully swift and the waves increasingly heavy. At the speed we were making the bend was soon reached, but just beyond it another bluff point came in view. We would have gone ashore to make a further inspection, but this was impossible, as the banks were of perpendicular or even overhanging walls of limestone. So alarmingly swift was the current now becoming that we eagerly looked for some place on the bank where a landing might be made, but none could be seen. Retreat was equally impossible against the enormous strength of the river; all we could do was to keep straight in the current. My brother’s canoe, steered by old Pierre, being a little in advance of my own, gave me a good opportunity of seeing the fearful race we were running. Suspicions of danger were already aroused, and the outcome was not long deferred. As we were rounding the bluff, old Pierre suddenly stood up from his seat in the stern, and in another instant we likewise were gazing at what looked like the end of the river. Right before us there extended a perpendicular fall. We had no time for reflection, but keeping straight with the current, and throwing ourselves back in the canoes in order to lighten the bows we braced ourselves for the plunge, and in a moment were lost to sight in the foaming waters below. But only for an instant. Our light cedars, though partly filled by the foam and spray, rose buoyantly on the waves, and again we breathed freely. It was a lucky thing for us that the canoes were not loaded, for had they been they never would have floated after that plunge, but would have disappeared like lead in the billows. We afterwards found we had taken the rapid in the very worst spot, and that near the right side of the river we might have made the descent free of danger. Without a guide, however, such mistakes will sometimes occur in spite of every precaution.

Poor John, my bowman, was badly unstrung as a result of this adventure, and declared that he did not want to shoot any more waterfalls; and for that matter, others of us were of much the same mind. One more small rapid, the Moberly, completed the series, and then for a few miles we enjoyed calm water until, toward evening, we reached Fort McMurray.