Across the sub-Arctics of Canada

by J. W. Tyrrell

As the start had been made late in the afternoon, not many miles were passed before it became necessary to look for a camping place. The banks of the river, formed of boulder clay, were very high, and good landings were scarce. In places the mud on the shore was soft and deep, but about seven o’clock a landing was effected and camp pitched for the night. At this time only two small tents were used, an “A” tent for the canoemen and a wall tent, affording a little more head room, for ourselves. The banks being well wooded with white and black poplar, spruce and birch, plenty of fuel was available. A fire was soon kindled and our evening meal prepared, in the cooking of which John was given the first opportunity of distinguishing himself. He was assisted by little Michel, who proved to be a very good hand. Having some bread and biscuits in stock, baking was not yet a necessity.

The weather now being fair and cool, and the great pest of camp life, the mosquito, not having yet arrived, our experience at this time was most enjoyable. It was the season of spring, and the sweet perfume of the Balm of Gilead, so abundant in the valley of the Athabasca, permeated the air. The leaves on many of the trees were just opening, so that everywhere the woods presented a remarkable freshness and brilliancy of foliage. These were our environments at the commencement of the canoe voyage, and at our first camp on the banks of the Athabasca. How different were they to be at the other end of the journey!

On the morning of the 1st of June camp was called early, and we continued on our way. As we glided down stream a succession of grand views passed, panorama-like, before us. The banks were high, towering in some places three, four or five hundred feet above the river; here abrupt and precipitous, consisting of cut banks of stratified clay; in other places more receding, but by a gradual slope rising, beneath dense foliage, to an equal elevation.

At this season of the year the water being high and the current swift, we made good time, covering a distance of sixty miles for the first full day’s travel. About noon on the 2nd, having reached a narrow part of the river, very remarkable massive walls of ice were found upon either bank, some distance above the water’s edge. These walls were of irregular thickness, and from eight to ten feet in height; but the most striking feature about them was that they presented smooth vertical faces to the river, although built of blocks of every shape and shade from clear crystal to opaque mud. They extended thus more or less continuously for miles down the river, and had the appearance of great masonry dykes. The explanation of their existence is doubtless as follows: Earlier in the season the narrowness of the channel had caused the river ice to jam and greatly raised the water level. After a time, when the water had reached a certain height and much ice had been crowded up on the shores, the jam had given way and caused the water to rapidly lower to a considerable extent, leaving the ice grounded above a certain line. Thus the material for the wall was deposited, and the work of constructing and finishing the smooth vertical face was doubtless performed by the subsequent grinding of the passing jam, which continued to flow in the deeper channel. After the passing of the first freshet, and the formation of these great ice walls, the water had gradually lowered to the level at which we found it.

Late in the afternoon the first rapid of the trip was sighted, but the water being high we had no difficulty in running it. In the evening camp was made on a beautiful sandy beach. During supper-time we had a visit from an old Cree Indian, who came paddling up the river in a little bark canoe. Of course he landed at our camp, for it is a principle strictly observed by every Indian to lose no opportunity of receiving hospitalities, and in accordance with his ideas of propriety, refreshments were given him. He received them as those of his race usually receive all favors, as no more than his right, and without a smile or the least visible expression of pleasure, seated himself by the fire to enjoy them.

On the following morning the great walls of ice, which we had been passing for miles, began to disappear as the channel of the river became wider. At about 9.30 we reached a place known as the Rapid of the Jolly Fool. It is said to have received its name from the fact that at one time an awkward canoeman lost his life by allowing his canoe to be smashed upon the most conspicuous rock in the rapid. We wasted no time examining it, as it was reported to be an easy one, but keeping near the left bank, headed our little crafts into the rushing waters. We had descended only a short distance, and were turning a bend in the stream, when, a little ahead of us, my brother noticed moving objects on the shore. One of the men said they were wolves, while others maintained they were bears, but my brother getting his rifle in readiness, cut the discussion short by demanding silence. As we swept swiftly down with the current, the objects were seen to be a moose deer and her calf. Having no fresh meat on hand, these new-found acquaintances were hailed as “well met.” Not until our canoes had approached within about one hundred and fifty yards did the old moose, standing in the shallow water near the river bank, appear to notice us. Then, apparently apprehending danger, but without alarm, she turned toward the shore, and, followed by her calf, walked up the bank towards the woods. As she did so my brother fired from his canoe, wounding her in the hind-quarters. I then fired, but struck the clay bank above the animal’s head, and in attempting to fire again the shell stuck in my rifle, making it impossible for me to reload. Just as the moose was disappearing into the woods my brother fired again, and inflicted a body wound; but in spite of all away went the deer.

As our canoes were thrust ashore I succeeded in extracting the shell from my rifle, and leaving some of the men in charge of the canoes, my brother and I gave chase. The trail of blood was discovered on the leaves, but it led into such a jungle of fallen timber and thicket that it was no easy matter to follow. Scouts were sent out on either side, while with our rifles we followed the trail, running when we were permitted, jumping logs that came in the way, and clambering over or through windfalls that the moose had cleared at a bound. Presently through the leafy thicket we had a glimpse of our prey. Bang went both rifles and away bounded the moose with two more slugs in her body.

We were now pretty badly winded, but being anxious to complete the work we had undertaken, the chase was kept up. We knew from the wounds already inflicted that the capture was only a matter of physical endurance on our part, and we were prepared to do our best. More than once the trail was lost in the windfalls and jungle, but at length, getting another side view, I shot her through the heart, bringing the noble beast with a thud to the ground. Nothing had been seen of the calf since the beginning of the hunt, but going back to the shore to get assistance, I found that the men had captured and made it a prisoner beside the canoes. Taking charge of the captive myself, I sent the men into the woods to skin the deer and “pack” the meat out to shore. The little calf, which I held by the ear, was very young, and not at all wild. Indeed, though I let go my hold, the little creature did not care to go away, but kept on calling for its mother in such a pitiful way that it made me heartily sorry for having bereft it. After the space of an hour or so my brother and the men returned, well loaded with fresh meat and a fine moose-hide. The meat was placed in sacks and stowed away in the canoes, but the hide being heavy and of little value to us, was placed on a big stone in the sun to dry and await the ownership of the first Indian who should pass that way.

As it was now nearly noon, it was decided to take dinner before re-embarking, and while the cooks were devoting their attention to bannocks and moose-steaks my brother and I were debating as to what we should do with the calf. We had not the heart to deliberately shoot it, but were unable to take it with us alive, as we would like to have done. Through a suggestion of one of the men a happy alternative was decided on. Other moose were doubtless in the vicinity, so that the calling of the calf would likely attract some of them, and in the event of this taking place it was said that the little moose would attach itself to another female. With the hope that such kind fortune would befall it, my brother, after having taken its photograph, led it away by the ear into the shelter of the woods, and there left the little creature to its fate.