We crossed over to Cape W. Mactavish (so named after William Mactavish, Esquire, chief trader, an intimate friend, to whom I am much indebted for assisting me in fitting out the expedition,) and stopped about three miles beyond it. Here we built our snow hut, which was found by meridian observation to be in latitude 67° 42' 22" N.; the variation of the compass 80° 35' W., and the longitude by account 86° 30' W. Directly opposite our encampment, and extending for about seventeen miles to the northward of it, there was a large island of table land, with not a single rock in situ to be seen on it. Its southern extremity bore nearly west (true) from us, and the strait which separated it from the mainland was not more than a mile and a half wide. This island was honoured with the name of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, and a smaller one to the south of it was named after Colonel Sabine.
Not a single living animal had been seen all day, but some traces of deer proceeding northward were noticed. We were again fortunate enough to find a little fuel.
Our route on the following night was nearly straight in a N.N.E. direction. The snow was very soft and deep in many places. A few hundred yards from the beach there were steep banks covered with shingle and small boulders of granite, where we usually found the snow less deep, and walking consequently better. After travelling nine miles we came to a considerable creek, about twenty yards wide, in which a deep channel had been worn among the mud and shingle. Near it there were numerous Esquimaux marks set up, and circular tent sites, but all of old date. We continued our march twelve miles further, and at 8 A.M. arrived at another creek somewhat larger than the last, and with higher banks. Here there were also many Esquimaux marks, and I afterwards learned that some parties had resorted hither from Repulse Bay, for the purpose of catching salmon, trout, &c. About an hour before reaching this place we crossed a long and curiously shaped point, which I named Point Hamilton after a near relative. The bay formed by it was called Erlandson.
One of the men, although an able active fellow, not being used to this sort of exercise, was much fatigued; and as the weather looked threatening, I ordered our snow-house to be built—the more readily as there was fuel to be found. In little more than a hour and a half we were comfortably housed, and not long afterwards we had taken our usual morning meal of pemmican seasoned with a handful of flour, those forming, when boiled together, a very nourishing and not unpalatable dish. The temperature all night had been 22° above zero, being too warm for walking pleasantly; and the men, having had to exert themselves much, were glad to get to rest as soon as possible, whilst I remained up to obtain a meridian observation of the sun. This gave latitude 67° 58' 49" N. Our longitude by account was 85° 59' 36" W. The sun was too much obscured by clouds to obtain the variation. We here deposited some pemmican and a little flour for our return journey.
When we started at 8 h. 30 m. P.M. on the 19th it blew a gale of wind from S.S.E. with much drift and snow, the temperature being only 4° below the freezing point. Fortunately the wind was on our backs; but the drift was so thick that we were obliged to follow every turn of the coast, and we could not see more than twenty yards before us. When we had travelled six miles we came to a bay a mile and a half wide, on the north shore of which there were two strangely shaped rocks of granite, having the appearance of an old ruin or portion of a fortress. They were of a square form, each about twenty-five feet high and nearly as much in extent.
Our course now lay due north; but we had not gone more than twelve miles altogether, when the weather became so unpleasant that we were glad to get under shelter, and before we did so, every part of our clothes was penetrated with snow drift. We could obtain no fuel here.
The weather continued so stormy that we were unable to leave our snow-hut until a quarter past 8 P.M. on the 21st. During our detention, finding that our provisions would run short if the walking continued as difficult as it had been, we took only one not overabundant meal during the twenty-four hours. There was still some snow falling, so that I could not take the proper bearings of the land along which we passed. The land, after we had proceeded N.E. for a few miles, turned to the southward of east, forming a bay eight miles wide, which, as it was full of rough ice, we were under the necessity of coasting. This bay was called after the Rt Hon. the Earl of Selkirk, and the cape forming its western boundary was named after the amiable lady of our much respected governor, Sir George Simpson.
The snow was in many places so soft and deep that we sank above the knee at every step, which made our night's march fatiguing in the extreme. On the N.E. side of Selkirk Bay, which is steep and rocky, there was a deep indentation or inlet, into which two small creeks emptied themselves. The land for five miles had a N.W. trending, and again turned up to the eastward of N., forming a high rugged headland, which was named Cape Finlayson, after Duncan Finlayson, Esq., Chief Factor. At three miles from Cape Finlayson we passed Point Barnston, and about four miles beyond this we came to another rocky point, which received the name of Cape Sibbald. The night had now become very disagreeable, with a heavy fall of snow; we persevered notwithstanding, partly crossing and partly coasting a bay heaped with rough ice, and encamped on what I supposed was its northern extremity, but which afterwards turned out to be an island, and to which I gave the name of Glen. The bay we had just passed was called after William G. Smith, Esq., Assistant Secretary to the Hudson's Bay Company.
The snow not being in a good state for building, we were rather longer than usual in getting housed. There was no fuel to be found, so we followed our old plan, and took a kettle or two of snow to bed with us. The temperature was very high for the season, being only 5° below the freezing point.
When we started at a quarter-past 11 on the 22nd, the night was beautifully clear and calm, with the thermometer at 13° below zero. After a three hours' walk we arrived at the north point of a bay, three and a half miles wide, across which we had come. To the bay I gave the name of Fraser, and to the point that of Corcoran, after two intimate friends, chief traders of the Company.