A line drawn from Mackenzie River to the point where Red Deer River joins the South Saskatchewan would give the line of coal formation observed with tolerable accuracy. These coal-fields are of enormous extent, and will doubtless one day form a large element of wealth in this richly-endowed country of the Saskatchewan.
After investigating the coal, we set to work to wash for gold in the sand bars, and were rewarded by finding what miners call “the colour,” i.e., a few specks of the finest gold-dust which remain with the black sand left behind when the rest of the “dirt” is washed away.
For the next two or three days the country presented the same slightly undulating character, thickly wooded, with hardly a single break, and without any eminence from which a view could be obtained. The only sound ground was on the low narrow ridges which separated the wider shallow valleys. These latter are occupied by “muskegs,” or level swamps, the surface of which is covered with a mossy crust five or six inches in thickness, while a thick growth of pines and the fallen timber add to the difficulties of the road. No one but a Hudson’s Bay voyageur would dream of taking horses into such a region.
We met with occasional tracks of the moose and black bear, and at first a few ducks on the streams and lakes; but as we pierced further into the forest, the waters were untenanted by wild fowl. Pigeons, wood partridges, and pine partridges became very plentiful, and we shot them at first in great numbers. The wood partridge, or willow grouse, frequents the thick woods and the low grounds, and is found on both sides of the Rocky Mountains; when disturbed, it generally flies up into a tree, and if there are several together, they tamely sit to be shot, one after the other. In the spring, the male bird exhibits himself for the delight of the female in the following manner. He sits upon a branch, and ruffling his feathers, and spreading his tail like a turkey-cock, shuts his eyes, and drums against his sides with his wings, producing a sound remarkably like distant thunder. When thus engaged, he becomes so absorbed in the performance, that he will allow any one to approach him near enough to snare him with a noose attached to a short stick. By the middle of June, the partridges were surrounded by broods of young, and we ceased to hunt them. When we encountered them, the hen bird, and often the cock also, would come rushing up to within a couple of yards of us, with wings spread, and feathers erect, just like a barn-door hen protecting her chickens. The pine partridge is rather larger than the willow grouse, darker-feathered, like an English grouse, with a scarlet patch over the eyes, and is found only in the “muskegs” or pine swamps. The pigeon is the beautiful long-tailed passenger pigeon, so common in the American woods; we found this bird as far west as the sources of the North Thompson.
A curious bird, which we met with only between the Pembina and Athabasca, and which we called the “booming swallow,” attracted our attention, but we were never able to obtain a specimen of it. It was about the size of a pigeon, with long, narrow wings, like those of the swift. It careered about in the air after the same fashion, apparently catching flies, and, when at a great height, would dart down like an arrow, making a strange booming sound, which can only be compared to the swelling hum of a thrashing machine at the time when a sheaf of corn is put into it. We never saw this bird in any other part of America.
Mr. O’B. employed his time in increasing the enmity which the men had conceived for him by his dislike for work, and his imperative manner when demanding their services. He did not attempt to assist in packing his own horse, but required the help of the men to roll up his blanket, or stow away his pemmican. Obstinately persisting, in spite of all remonstrances, in marching last of the single file in which we travelled, he frequently lagged behind; when he found that the party ahead were out of sight, which was the case every few yards, from the closeness of the trees, terror took possession of him, and he sat down, without attempting to seek the path, making the woods ring again with his cries for help. The first time this occurred, we stopped the train in some alarm, and Baptiste hurried back to see what could have happened, when, to his disgust, he simply found Mr. O’B., seated on a fallen tree, bawling with all his might. After this, neither of the men would go back for him, and the duty devolved upon us. Mr. O’B. was a man of most marvellous timidity. His fears rendered his life a burden to him. But of all the things he dreaded—and their name was legion—his particular horror was a grisly bear. On this point he was a complete monomaniac. He had never yet seen a grisly bear, but he was in the daily expectation of meeting one of these terrible animals, and a sanguinary and untimely end at the same time. As he walked through the forest, the rustle of every leaf and the creaking of the trunks seemed, to his anxious mind, to herald the approach of his dreaded enemy. The Assiniboine, taking advantage of his weakness, cured him for a time of his carelessness in losing sight of the party, by lying in wait, hid amongst the trees close to the track, and as Mr. O’B. passed by, set up a most horrible growling, which caused him to take to his heels incontinently, and for several days he kept near protection. As we sat round the camp-fire one evening, a rustling in the bushes attracted our attention, and we were startled for a moment by the sight of a dark, shaggy object moving along, which, in the dim, fitful fire-light, looked very like a bear. Mr. O’B. rushed up to us in abject terror, when the animal, passing into clearer view, disclosed a foot clothed in a moccasin, and we recognised the boy, enveloped in a buffalo robe, and creeping on all fours, to practise on the fears of “Le Vieux.”
On the third day after leaving Pembina River, we rested to dine at a marshy meadow formed by the damming up of the stream by beaver, exactly similar to those we noticed near Dog River and at Edmonton. But now these places were of the greatest value to us, for they afforded almost the only open grassy spaces we found with pasturage for our horses until reaching the mountains. They were very common along our track, the grassy mound and bank across showing the old beaver house and dam in most cases. Nearly every stream between the Pembina and the Athabasca—except the large river McLeod—appeared to have been destroyed by the agency of these animals. The whole of this region is little more than a succession of pine swamps, separated by narrow ridges of higher ground, and it is a curious question whether that enormous tract of country, marked “Swampy” in the maps, has not been brought to this condition by the work of beaver, who have thus destroyed, by their own labour, the streams necessary to their existence.[8]
On the evening of this same day we encamped early in a little open space on the bank of a small stream, one of the very few we met with in this part. Cheadle and The Assiniboine started up the river in search of beaver, but the former, seeing some trout rising, turned back in order to fish for them, and The Assiniboine went on alone. The camp was made, Cheadle came in at dark with some fish, and we had supper. Mr. O’B. went to bed, and the rest sat smoking and wondering what made The Assiniboine so late, when the door of the lodge was lifted, and he entered, literally trembling with excitement, and for some time hardly able to explain the cause, merely saying, in his French patois, “J’etais en pas mal de danger. J’ai vu les ours gris, proche—proche!” and devoted himself to smoking a pipe, which his son immediately filled and handed to him. When sufficiently calmed down by the composing weed, he related his adventures. He had found beaver up the stream and shot one, which sunk, and he was unable to secure it. Wandering on for some time without meeting with anything more, he turned back, just before dusk, and retraced his steps. When he arrived within a few hundred yards of the camp, he heard a rustling in some underwood near by, and thinking the horses had strayed there, turned aside into the cover to drive them back. Instead of seeing the horses he expected, he found himself face to face with an enormous grisly bear, which was engaged in tearing open a rotten trunk in search of insects. On the appearance of The Assiniboine, the animal desisted from its employment, and advanced towards him with a terrible growling and lips upcurled, displaying her great teeth and enormous mouth. The first bear was now joined by two others of rather smaller size, who came running up, attracted by the growling. The Assiniboine, an old and practised hunter, stood his ground firmly, and as the old bear came within two or three yards, suddenly threw up his arms. This, a usual device in hunting the grisly bear, caused the animal to stop for a moment and sit up on her hind legs, giving an opportunity for a steady shot. The Assiniboine took a deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger, but, to his dismay, the snapping of the cap only followed. He pulled the second trigger, and that missed fire also. Strange to say, the bear did not attack him, and as he continued to show a firm and immovable front, retired with the others, and all three stood watching him. At every attempt he made to move, one or other rushed towards him, growling fiercely. This continued, for some time, but at length they resumed their occupation of breaking up the rotten logs, and he stole off unperceived. He was not, however, content to leave them undisturbed after his narrow escape. When well out of sight he stopped, poured fresh powder into the nipples of his gun, and re-capped it. He then crept cautiously round, so as to approach them from an opposite quarter. He found them still in the same place, occupied as before. Crouching behind a natural barricade of fallen trees, he took a fair deliberate shot at the old bear. Again both barrels missed fire, and the three, aroused by the snapping of the caps, looked round, and quickly perceiving him, rushed up, growling and showing their teeth, but stopped as they came to the barrier of trees, which they fortunately made no attempt to pass. The same scene previously described was now re-enacted, the animals resenting any sign which the man showed of retiring, but refraining from actual attack. At last they all suddenly set off at speed, and after a time the Assiniboine reached the camp without further molestation. The man probably owed his life to his courageous bearing, and the circumstance that his gun missed fire, for had he wounded one of them, all three would certainly have attacked and, undoubtedly, killed him.
Whilst The Assiniboine was relating his exciting adventure, Mr. O’B. lay rolled in his blanket, quite unconscious that anything unusual had occurred, not understanding a word of the mixed patois of Cree and French in which the Assiniboine spoke. Milton therefore said in English, “Mr. O’B., The Assiniboine has been attacked by three grisly bears, close to camp.” At the word bears he sat bolt upright, his countenance betraying the greatest anxiety, and eagerly asked if it was really true, and how it happened. We told him the story, and as he listened his jaw fell ruefully, and his face assumed an agonised expression. “Doctor,” said he, when we had finished, “we are in a very serious position—in very great danger. This is a most terrible journey; will you do me a great favour, and lend me your revolver? for I am resolved to sell my life dearly, and how can I defend myself if the bears attack us in the night? I’m an unarmed man.”
“Oh, certainly,” replied Cheadle, producing the pistol, and playfully working the hammer up and down with his thumb; “with the greatest pleasure; here it is: oh, yes, if you like: perhaps, under the circumstances, you had better take it; but I ought to tell you that you must be extremely careful with it, for it is in the habit of going off of its own accord.”