Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

TOBAUNT LAKE.

On Monday morning, the 7th of August, all undismayed, we broke camp early, and bidding good-bye to the last vestige of growing timber to be seen, continued down the river toward the frozen lake. Four more rapids were passed, and about 10 a.m., retarded by a strong east wind, we went ashore on a little island in the broad mouth of the river. Here we built another cairn of rocks, upon which was painted, with red enamel, the latitude of the spot and the date and name of the expedition.

In the afternoon, the wind having moderated, we started out for the mainland to the north. We followed it for some miles to the eastward, and then struck across to a long point, which appeared to be the outermost point of the river shore. Up to this time we had seen nothing of the ice-field, but here it was, tight in against the shore and defying farther advance by canoe. Towards the edge of the pack the ice was much broken and honey-combed, but it was far too heavy to be tackled by canoes or even stout boats. It was decided, therefore, to turn into what we supposed was a bay just passed, and from the shore get a view of the pack. We had no sooner altered our course than a deer was sighted close by, shot, and taken on board for fresh meat. It was found that the point was that of a long island, and that the supposed bay was a channel through which we might pass unobstructed by ice.

By this time, however, the wind was again blowing strongly, and a cold heavy rain setting in drove us to camp. During the night the wind increased to a gale, accompanied by torrents of rain, which flooded the tents and saturated our clothing and blankets. Not a vestige of fuel was to be found in the country, but with a spirit lamp we made hot tea and appeased our sharp appetites with some remnants of boiled venison. For three days the storm continued. On the fourth it turned to snow and the temperature went down to freezing—rather inhospitable weather for the 10th of August.

Next morning, the gale having sufficiently subsided, camp was called about four o’clock, and we continued on our way through the channel we had entered, and along the west shore of the lake in open water until 8 a.m., when we again found ourselves hemmed in by heavy floating ice, which in several places was measured and found to be seven feet in thickness. To advance here in the canoes was impossible, so a favorable spot for landing was selected, at the base of the point where the ice was hard ashore.

Just as we were landing, a small band of deer was seen feeding on a grassy plain not far away, and as our supply of fresh venison was nearly gone, we made plans for a hunt. It was arranged that my brother and I should take up our positions in concealment on a low neck of land between the shore and a small lake, and that the men should so place themselves as to drive the band within range of us. We managed to reach our vantage ground unobserved, but one of the canoemen in attempting to carry out his instructions awkwardly exposed himself and alarmed the deer, causing them to speedily scatter. Some of them, however, bounded past within range of our rifles, and three were brought down, which were sufficient to replenish the larder.

Not far from the landing place was a high hill, so providing ourselves with field-glasses we set out for its summit. As we proceeded across the country we found the ground frozen and all the little ponds covered by new ice. Such a condition of things was not the most enlivening, and it was a point of discussion with us whether the season of this land was spring or autumn. Upon reaching the hill-top we were well repaid for our labor. Away to the south and the east, as far as we could see, the ice-field extended, but to the north there lay much open water, and near the base of the hill there was a comparatively narrow neck of land across which we might portage our outfit and get to the open water. This we decided to do.

Having accomplished this task we were once more free, but before nightfall were again blocked by the pack. In a deep bay by the mouth of a small river we went into camp, feeling somewhat disheartened by our ill fortunes. Neither wood nor moss could here be found with which to make a fire, but with alcohol some hot tea was made, and from it as much comfort was extracted as possible, for there was little elsewhere to be found. Meeting with so much ice at this season of the year made the prospects of farther advance northward anything but encouraging, but we were resolved, if it were possible, to push on and see the end of the great river we had thus far descended.

The morning of the 12th broke cold and dreary. New ice everywhere covered the ponds, but camp was astir early, and it was with much pleasure we discovered that the ice-pack, which had forbidden our advance the night before, had now moved off the shore and left in its stead a channel of open water. Into this we gladly made our way, and once more the paddles were plied lustily. During the day we encountered much ice, solid fields of which extended out from the land, but we were able to get along without much obstruction. Several white wolves were seen on the shore as we passed, and at some places, where landings were made, numerous little ermines were observed darting about among the rocks. The formation of the coast was found to consist largely of a remarkable looking ferruginous conglomerate, and despite the extremely barren and dreary aspect of the country, a large variety of beautiful little flowers were collected.