Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

ICE ON THE SHORE OF MARKHAM LAKE.

On the morning of the following day, at the north-western extremity of the lake, our course was again discovered. It commenced with a wild rapid of about thirty feet fall, and this we found to be followed within a distance of twenty miles by seven others, all of which together aggregated a fall of about 120 feet, which took us to the level of Markham Lake, named in honor of Admiral A. H. Markham, R.N.

While traversing this lake a decided change in the climate was observed. For the first time since the early part of the season snow-banks were seen on the hillsides, and the weather, which had been as a rule wet and cold since leaving the woods, became decidedly colder. Toward the north end of the lake we passed great piles of rafted ice on the shore. Such conditions during the month of August were highly suggestive of the character of climate which must exist here in the winter season.

Near the outlet of Markham Lake was found an exceptionally interesting little island. For weeks we had seen nothing but Laurentian or Huronian hills, but here was a solitary out-lier of white Cambrio-Silurian limestone. The size of the island was perhaps not more than ten acres, but its whole composition was quite different from anything in the district, and growing on it were found many entirely new varieties of plants. Several hours were spent here with fruitful results, and then as the shadows of evening were stealing from the rocky hills far across the lonely plains, we discovered, at the north end of the lake, our river, upon the bare high rocky bank of which we pitched camp.

It is worthy of note that at this point some very old moss-grown “tepee” poles and fragments of birch bark were found, indicating clearly that in days gone by the spot had been visited by Indians, though it was now known to them only in legends. We had seen no recent traces of Indians since entering the Telzoa, but at some time they had descended thus far, and had camped on the same bald hill which we now occupied. There was more than sentiment to us in the fact, for from the old rotten poles, few and small though they were, we built a fire that gave us not a little comfort and cheer.

On the 5th of August, after partaking of a hurried breakfast of venison—of which, by the way, our supplies now almost entirely consisted—the canoes were again launched in the swift stream, in which during the day rapid after rapid was run, until six were successfully passed and a descent of over a hundred feet had been made.

At about six o’clock in the evening, having made twenty miles, a fortunate incident occurred. As we were approaching a seventh rapid we suddenly found ourselves enveloped in a dense chilling mist, which so obstructed the view that we were unable to proceed. As we went ashore at the head of the rapid we discovered, much to our delight, a little patch of stunted black spruce trees. They were twisted and gnarled, and not more than four or five feet in height, but as fuel they were the source of much comfort, and beside them we decided to camp. It was Saturday night. During the day’s run we had been soaked by the spray of the rapids, and were therefore in good condition to again enjoy the warm, cheerful blaze of a fire, around which we all huddled and sat far into the night, drying our clothing, rehearsing adventures of the day and discussing the prospects of the future.

The morrow being Sunday we had a further opportunity of enjoying the camp-fire, cooked provisions, and dry clothing, all which are rare luxuries in the Barren Lands. Our fishing nets, which had been set in the river the night before, were taken up loaded with magnificent whitefish and trout, the former ranging from six to ten pounds in weight, and the latter up to twenty-five pounds.

During the afternoon, as my brother was tramping in the interior he reached the summit of an adjacent hill, where a most dreary and chilling scene opened to his vision. To the east and northward not many miles away, and extending as far as the eye could reach, there appeared a vast white plain shrouded in drifting clouds of mist. It was evidently a great lake, still covered in the month of August with a field of ice, and was probably the Doobaunt or Tobaunt Lake, known in a legendary way to the Athabasca Indians, and sighted over one hundred years ago by Samuel Hearne when on his journey to the Copper Mine River. Its re-discovery was now a matter of the deepest interest to us. Was it to form an insurmountable obstacle in our path was the question at once suggested, and judging from appearances, most of the men were of opinion that it would.