CHAPTER IX.
MEETING WITH NATIVES.
Borne down by the river we had launched on the bosom of Aberdeen Lake without effort, but not so easy a matter was it to find our way out. With the hope of saving unnecessary search, it was resolved to climb to the top of a hill not far back from shore, and view the country with our field-glasses.
From the summit, which was found by the aneroid to be four hundred feet above the lake, we obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding country, and from the base of the hill could clearly trace the course of the river, winding away to the northward. While my brother and I were thus engaged in viewing and sketching the country, hammering the rocks, tracing the lines of ancient sea-beaches, etc., which were here clearly defined at no less than seven different elevations, varying from 60 to 290 feet above the surface of the lake, the men were usefully employed in collecting black moss, which in this neighborhood was found in abundance.
Since entering the lake nothing more had been seen of the drift-wood, but on our return from the hill in the evening we found camp already pitched, and near it a big kettle of venison simmering over a fire of moss. More than this, some flour, a little of which still remained, had been baked into grease cakes by John, and with these, the venison and hot tea, we enjoyed one of the heartiest meals of our lives.
On the morning of the 29th, enshrouded by a dense fog, we entered the river, and though for a time we could see neither bank, we knew our course from my sketch made on the hill-top. Later in the day the weather, clearing, enabled us at noon, as we entered the west end of Schultz Lake (so called in honor of the late Lieutenant-Governor of Manitoba), to ascertain our latitude, which was 64° 43′ north. Along the north shore of this lake extended a high range of rocky, snow-clad hills, from four to five hundred feet in height. The south shore was also bold and rocky, but of considerably less elevation.
The next day the old story of looking for the “hole” out of the lake was repeated. At noon, while lunch was being prepared, my brother climbed a hill on the south shore, and from its summit discovered the outlet, four or five miles distant on the opposite side.
As soon as possible after my brother’s descent we started straight across on our course for the river. Light wolfy clouds were already scudding across the sky, and after them dark masses began to roll up from the horizon and soon overshadowed us. We were evidently in for a blow, and in order to avoid being overtaken on the open lake, every man exerted himself to the utmost. No sooner had we reached shore than the storm burst upon us, but once in the river channel we were able to obtain shelter from the force of the gale if not from the pelting rain.
We had now reached the second of two points of highest latitude attained on our journey, namely 64° 48′ north. This as a high latitude does not, of course, amount to anything, but the attainment of a high latitude was not an object of our expedition, though scores of times the question has been asked of me, “How far north did you get?”
At this entrance to the river a large area of highly glaciated granitic rocks was observed, and the channel was well formed and deep. Both banks were high and rocky, and the current swift. Notwithstanding the weather our canoes were kept in the stream, though it was with difficulty I was able to carry on the survey and keep my notes.
About seven miles down stream a very rocky rapid was discovered. On examination we found it could be run for a considerable distance, and that for the remaining distance only a short portage would have to be made.