SWAMP FORMED BY BEAVER, WITH ANCIENT BEAVER HOUSE AND DAM.
(See [page 179].)
On Dog River, a small tributary of the Saskatchewan, a colony of these animals still survived. We found fresh tracks along the bank, and a few small trees cut down; and following these indications up the stream, we came upon the dam. This was a weir of trunks and branches, over which the water poured gently, to resume a more rapid course below. In the quiet pool above, and close to the opposite bank, stood the beaver house, a conical structure of six or seven feet in height, formed of poles and branches plastered over with mud. We watched long and silently, hid amongst the bushes which fringed the stream, hoping for a sight of some of the tenants, but in vain. This settlement must have been in existence a very long time, for we saw stumps of trees which had been cut down by them, now moss-grown and rotten. Some of these were of large size, one measuring more than two feet in diameter. The beaver had fallen off wofully from the glory of their ancestors, not only in the number and size of the communities, but in the magnitude of their undertakings.
The trees cut down more lately were all comparatively small, and it would seem as if a number of beaver worked at the same tree, and a weak colony felt unequal to attempt one of the giants which their forefathers would not have hesitated to attack. Nor did we ever discover any considerable stream dammed up by beaver of this present time—a work requiring large timber, and numerous workmen; yet we frequently met with the grass-grown banks described, works of the golden age gone by, stretched across what had been streams of thirty or forty yards in width.
At a place called Snake Hills, we again struck the banks of the Saskatchewan; and as the road on the north side beyond this point was merely a pack trail through the woods, we prepared to cross the river, in order to follow the regular cart track along the southern bank. We were at first rather puzzled how to get over, for the river was deep and wide, and we were unable to find any timber wherewith to make a raft. But the ingenuity of “The Assiniboine” was not long at fault. He built a slender framework of green willows, tied together with strips of hide, and covered this with a buffalo skin tightly stretched and well greased at all the seams. This frail canoe was but six feet long, two in breadth, and about the same in depth. Baptiste acted as ferryman, and transferred the baggage safely across. Then came Cheadle’s turn, and his thirteen stone, added to the weight of the ponderous Baptiste, sunk the light craft to the water’s edge. A log of wood was attached on one side to prevent the canoe from capsizing, and the two pushed off on their uncertain voyage. The slightest rocking caused the boat to ship water, which also soaked rapidly through the pervious skin, and Cheadle viewed with some anxiety the gradual sinking of one of the most fragile vessels mortal ever embarked in. The leakage went on rapidly, and the water crept up outside until it really appeared to overhang the brim. It was already nearly dark, and the prospect of immersion appeared so imminent that the passenger became seriously uncomfortable. The bank was reached only just in time, for the water was already beginning to trickle over the side.
Milton was next brought over, and the rest remained behind to superintend the passage of the horses and carts in the morning. The latter were brought over in a very easy and simple manner. Each cart was attached by a rope from one of the shafts to the tail of a horse, the animals driven into the water, and the carts pushed after them. Being built entirely of wood, these floated in their proper position, and the horses swam across with them without difficulty.
When the carts were again loaded, we found the bank so steep that the horses were unable to drag them up the ascent. We possessed no extra harness by which to attach another horse, but made shift after the fashion of the country, by a rope from the shaft to a horse’s tail. It was necessary to start gently, in order not to dislocate the caudal vertebræ, but with Milton and the boy as postillions on the leaders, and the rest of the party pushing behind, we went bravely up the hill.
When we gained the level plain above, dense clouds of smoke on every hand told that the prairie was on fire, and we soon reached the blackened ground which the fire had passed over. The only pasture we found for our horses was a large marsh where we encamped for the night.
Before we reached Edmonton, our stock of provisions, as usual, began to fall short; but wild-fowl were so plentiful, and we collected their eggs in such quantity, that we were never short of food. Baptiste and the Assiniboine family were indifferent as to the condition of the eggs, or indeed rather preferred those which contained good-sized chickens. They would hold up the downy dainty by a leg or wing, and drop it into their mouths, as we should eat asparagus.
On the 14th of May we came in sight of the Fort, prettily situated on a high cliff overhanging the river on the northern side. We were quickly fetched over in the Company’s barge, and took up our quarters in the building, where we received every kindness and hospitality from the chief trader, Mr. Hardisty.