Out of the woods there was comparatively little of the snow left. Under cover of the trees it was still deep, but too soft and heavy for the teams, so we kept along on the open plains between the woods and the shore, and made fair progress.
The arrangement of our party was as follows: As guide an Indian named James Westasecot led the way some distance ahead of the train. Next after him came a team of six big Eskimo dogs hitched two and two abreast to a long sled carrying the big canoe, in which Michel was given a passage. Following this team was another hauling the smaller canoe, in which I was rolled up in my blankets. The third team consisted of only four dogs and, in a carryall, hauled my brother and some of the baggage; and at the rear of the train trotted another full team of six dogs with Louis, the sick Iroquois, and the camp outfit. The rest of our men walked behind or beside the various sleds, resting themselves by jumping on when the travelling was easy, as it often was when crossing level plains or frozen ponds—of which latter there were very many.
The day was beautifully bright and pleasant for one travelling as I was, but for the drivers and dogs it was much too warm for comfort. In many places the higher ground was bare, and progress consequently slow.
About noon a halt was made for lunch, and during this time the opinion was expressed by the drivers that we would not be able to reach the Fort until the next day; but upon being promised that if they would take us in without having to spend another night in camp they should have whatever remained of the supplies they had brought us, they were induced to change their minds, and acting upon the new inspiration we were soon again on our way. In many places the low flat plains we traversed were overgrown by clumps of swamp willow, and around these many large flocks of ptarmigan were seen. About three o’clock in the afternoon we reached Grassy Island, at the bottom of Button’s Bay, and two hours later gained the base of a long range of rocky hills. We skirted the foot of these for some time, until we reached a low place in the ridge, where, dismounting to lighten the loads, we turned up the steep pass, and after a short climb to the crest found ourselves within full view of Fort Churchill. It was not an imposing place, but even though consisting of only four or five old frame buildings, the sight to us was one of deep satisfaction. For a moment we paused on the summit of the ridge, then at the crack of the driver’s whip the teams bounded forward, galloped down the steep slope, sped across the plains below, and in a few minutes landed us at the house of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s traders. Here, after extricating ourselves from the various conveyances, we were presently received by a tall young Scotchman, who announced himself as Mr. Matheson, Master of the Fort.
FRENCH-SALTEAUX GIRL.
CHAPTER XVI.
FORT CHURCHILL.
With our arrival at Fort Churchill, with its well-filled storehouses, the successful termination of the long journey seemed pretty well assured. Here was abundance of provisions to feed our small party for an indefinite length of time, so that we could either spend the winter at the post, and go south by canoes in the spring, or else remain long enough to recruit, and then continue the journey on foot.
Adjoining the Master’s house, and ranged in two irregular, detached rows on the rocky bank of the Churchill River, were four or five old frame buildings, used as storehouses and servants’ lodges. Two or three hundred yards down the shore was a neat little church and mission-house.