Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

CHAPTER XVIII.
CROSSING THE NELSON.

On the morning of the 11th of November our parties arranged to separate. The route of Mr. Matheson’s party henceforth lay away to the eastward, while our path still led to the south, toward the banks of the Nelson River. A place was prepared on our own dog-sled for crippled Michel; the team of six dogs was harnessed, and the flat sleds, including one for Eli, the son of old William the Indian, were loaded with all that the dogs were unable to haul. Our supplies by this time were diminished to the extent of about two hundred and fifty pounds, so that, even with the additional weight of a man, the loads were lighter than at the outset of the journey.

Loads being thus readjusted, and our feet harnessed to snowshoes, we bade farewell to our friends from the Fort, as well as to those of the forest, and made a new start.

The weather was now unusually mild for the month of November, making the snow soft, and even wet in some places. This made travelling hard for the team, as it caused the ice glazing to melt from the sled, and the mud shoeing to wear and drag heavily upon the track. My brother and I still suffered much from our crippled limbs, but with considerable difficulty managed to keep up with the rest. After making a small day’s march we camped for the night on the bank of a stream called by the Indians White Bear Creek. The weather having turned colder during the night, making the prospects for travel more favorable, we started down stream the next morning upon the ice of the creek, and then across country to Duck Creek, where we found a second Indian camp, occupied by two Crees and their families.

From one of these Indians, named Morrison, we purchased an additional dog with which to supplement our team. The price asked was a new dress for one of the squaws, but as we had no dress-goods with us, the best we could offer was that the dress should be ordered at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s store at York, and delivered when the first opportunity afforded. After some consideration, and several pipes of tobacco, the offer was accepted and with seven dogs in our team the journey resumed. We followed the creek till it led us out to the low, dreary coast at the mouth of the Nelson, where, having left the woods several miles inland, we were exposed to the full sweep of a piercingly cold, raw, south-west wind.

We are accustomed to thinking of a coast as a definite, narrow shore-line; but to the inhabitants of the Hudson Bay region the word conveys a very different meaning. There the coast is a broad mud and boulder flat, several miles in width, always wet, and twice during the day flooded by the tide. At this time of the year the mud flats were covered by rough broken ice and drifted snow, but above high-tide mark the surface of the country was level and the walking good. For several hours we tramped southward down the coast, with the cutting wind in our faces. During the afternoon we sought shelter, but finding none our course was altered and shaped for the nearest wood, several miles inland.

The great advantage of travelling on the open plain is that there the snow is driven hard, and hence the walking is much better than in the woods, where the snow is soft and deep. Nevertheless, when the weather is rough, as it was on this occasion, the heavy walking is preferable to travelling in the open country in the teeth of the storm.

For the remainder of the day we bore southward, and about sunset made camp on the south bank of a stream known as Sam’s Creek, in a lovely snow-laden, evergreen forest—an ideal Canadian winter woodland picture. From this beautiful but chilling scene our tramp was continued next morning at daylight. The low shore of the Nelson was again reached and followed, until about noon a decided change in the character of the land was observed. A boulder clay bank commenced to make its appearance, and this as we advanced rapidly reached an elevation of twenty-five or thirty feet, and as we proceeded up the river became higher and more thickly wooded. The change was a great relief from the level, treeless coast.

We were now well within the mouth of the great Nelson River, and could already, through the rising vapor, dimly see the outline of the opposite shore.