The 16th was a day of rest, and the 17th was so stormy and wet that little work could be done.
All hands were now busily employed making preparations for a long and dreary winter; for this purpose four men were set to work to collect stones for building a house, whilst the others were occupied in setting nets, hunting deer, and gathering fuel. Our work was much impeded by rainy weather, particularly the house building, as the clay or mud was washed away as soon as applied.
We found that our nets were so much cut up by a small marine insect from a half to three-quarters of an inch long, resembling a shrimp in miniature—the favourite food of the salmon—that it was quite impossible to keep them in repair. I thought to destroy their taste for hemp by steeping the nets in a strong decoction of tobacco, but it had no effect.
On the 2nd September our house was finished; its internal dimensions were 20 feet long by 14 feet broad, height in front 7½ feet, sloping to 5½ at the back. We formed a very good roof by using the oars and masts of our boats as rafters, and covering them with oilcloth and moose skin, the latter being fixed to the lower or inside of the rafters, whilst the former was placed on the outside to run off the rain. The door was made of parchment deer-skins stretched over a frame of wood. The walls were fully two feet thick, with three small openings, in which a like number of windows, each having two panes of glass, were placed.
Our establishment was dignified with the name of Fort Hope, and was situated in 66° 32' 16" N.; longitude (by a number of sets of lunar distances with objects on both sides of the moon) 86° 55' 51" W. The variation of the compass on 30th August was 62° 50' 30" W.; mean dip of the needle, and the mean twice of a hundred vertical vibrations in the line of declination 226".
A sort of room was formed at one end by putting up a partition of oilcloth. In this, besides its serving as my quarters, all our pemmican and some of the other stores were stowed away.
From the 5th to the 13th I was up at North Pole and Christie Lakes in the boat with three men, our object being to look out for fishing stations, and also to purchase dogs from the Esquimaux. The wind being from the north, we did not reach the Esquimaux encampment till the 10th. They had shifted their tents from the narrows to a small point about eight miles up Christie Lake, where the deer were more numerous, among which they seemed to have made great havoc, to judge by the abundance of skins and venison lying in all directions. Our friends were delighted to see us, and had improved much in appearance, the only poor animals about them being their dogs, which appeared to get no more to eat than was barely sufficient to keep them in life. I looked out four of the best, being all I wanted at present, for which I promised a dagger each, intending to take them with us on our return. During our stay here a band of deer came to the edge of the lake, and after feeding a short time took the water. Three of the natives slipped noiselessly into their kayaks, and lay waiting, until the deer were far enough out in the water, to intercept them, but just as they were on the eve of starting the wind changed a little, and the deer smelling their enemy wheeled about, and were soon in safety on the beach from which they had started.
Many large flocks of Hutchins and snow geese had been seen for the last few days passing to the southward. The blue-winged goose of Edwards is by some ornithologists considered as the young of the last named bird in one of its stages towards maturity, but this opinion I believe to be erroneous, for the following reasons.
During a ten years' residence at Moose Factory, on the shores of Hudson's Bay, I had many opportunities, every spring and autumn, of observing both the snow and the blue-winged goose in their passage to and from their breeding places, the marshes near Moose being favourite feeding ground.
In spring both species are very nearly alike in size, the blue-winged goose, although shorter, being rather the heavier bird. In the autumn there are four distinct varieties, two of which exactly resemble in size and plumage those seen in the spring, whilst the others are much smaller, and differ much from these and from each other in their markings; the young of the snow goose being of a light grey colour, darkest on the head and upper part of the neck; whilst the young of the blue-winged goose is of a dark slate colour, approaching to black on the head and neck. Neither do the young separate from the old, as has been asserted; for families may be seen feeding by themselves all over the marshes, the old bird keeping a sharp look-out, and giving timely warning to her brood of any approaching danger. In fact the Indian, who has thoroughly studied the habits of the bird, takes advantage of her affection for her young, and of their attachment to their parent, to make both his prey. Well knowing that the young are easily decoyed by imitating their call and by mock geese set up in the marsh, and that the old bird, although more shy, will follow them, he waits patiently until she comes within range; if he shoots her he is pretty sure to kill the greater part of the others, as they continue to fly over and around the place for some time after.