The weather was now fine; and Mr. Mackenzie and his men renewed their voyage on the 27th of July. At seven o'clock they once more reached the rapids. Here they found three families of Indians, from whom they obtained some information respecting the adjacent country, and particularly respecting a river which was stated to run on the opposite side of the mountains, in a westerly direction; and which, from the description given of it, Mr. Mackenzie conjectured to be that called Cook's River.
At a subsequent interview, with another party of Indians, a misunderstanding took place, in which the Indians seized one of Mr. Mackenzie's boats, and dragged it on shore. Peace, however, being restored, Mr. Mackenzie endeavoured to obtain some further intelligence concerning the river to the westward. His enquiries, however, were to little purpose. The account given by these Indians was very vague; and their description of the inhabitants of the country adjacent to it, was extremely absurd. These, it was stated, were of gigantic stature, and furnished with wings; which, however, they never employed in flying: that they fed on large birds, which they killed with the greatest ease; though common men would be the certain victims of the voracity of such birds. The Indians also described the people who inhabited the mouth of the river, as possessing the extraordinary power of killing with their eyes; and as each being able to devour a large beaver at a single meal. They added that canoes, or vessels of immense size, visited that place. They did not, however, pretend to relate these particulars from their own observation, but from the report of other Indians; for they had themselves never ventured beyond the first range of mountains, from their own dwellings. It, however, appeared to Mr. Mackenzie that, either the Indians knew more of this country than they chose to communicate, or that his interpreter, who had long been tired of the voyage, gave him purposely a wrong account, in order that he might not be induced to extend his excursions.
As soon as the conference was ended, the Indians began to dance; and, in this pastime, old and young, male and female, continued their exertions, till their strength was exhausted. Their actions were accompanied by various noises, in imitation of the rein-deer, the bear, and the wolf.
When the dancing was ended, Mr. Mackenzie assumed an angry tone, expressed his suspicions that information had been purposely withheld from him; and concluded with a threat, that if they did not give him a more satisfactory account, he would compel one of them to accompany him, for the purpose of pointing out the road to the other river. No sooner did they hear this declaration, than they all, in a moment, became sick; and answered, in a faint tone, that they knew no more than what they had already communicated. Finding it useless to persevere in his enquiries, he ceased them; and having purchased a few beaver-skins, and obtained a plentiful supply of food, he continued his voyage.
On the 1st of August, the weather was clear and cold. This was the first night, for many weeks, that the stars had been visible. Nine days afterwards, they arrived in the vicinity of a range of lofty mountains. Accompanied by a young Indian, Mr. Mackenzie landed, for the purpose of ascending one of them. They passed through a wood, chiefly of spruce-firs, so thick that it was with difficulty they could penetrate it. After they had walked more than an hour, the underwood decreased; and was succeeded by birch and poplar trees, the largest and tallest that Mr. Mackenzie had ever seen. The mountains, which had been concealed, by the woods, from their view, were again visible, but, apparently, at as great a distance as when they were first seen from the river. This was a very mortifying circumstance, for Mr. Mackenzie and his companion had been walking nearly three hours. The Indian expressed great anxiety to return; for his shoes and leggings had been torn to pieces, and he was alarmed at the idea of having to proceed all night, through this trackless country. Mr. Mackenzie was, however, determined to proceed, and to return the next day. As they approached the mountains, the ground became marshy; and they waded, in water and grass, up to their knees, till they came within a mile of them; when, suddenly, Mr. Mackenzie sank, up to his armpits, in mud and water. Having, with considerable difficulty, extricated himself, he found it impossible to proceed any further. To cross this unexpected morass was impracticable; and it extended so far, both to the right and left, that he could not attempt to make the circuit of either extremity. He therefore determined to return; and, about midnight, he again reached the river, excessively fatigued with his fruitless expedition.
In the afternoon of the 13th, the voyagers continued their route, and with very favourable weather. They passed several places, where fires had recently been made; and beyond these, they observed a party of Indians, drawing their canoes on the beach, and endeavouring to escape into the woods. These had been so much terrified, by the appearance of the strangers, and the report of their guns, in shooting wild-geese, that they left, on the beach, several weapons and articles of dress. Mr. Mackenzie directed his men to go into the woods, in search of them, but in vain; for they had fled too rapidly to be overtaken.
The voyagers had, for some time, subsisted chiefly on fish, which they had caught in their nets, and on deer and other game, which the hunters had killed.
On Saturday, the 12th of September, at three o'clock in the afternoon, they again arrived at Fort Chepewyan; and thus concluded an arduous voyage, which, in the whole, had occupied the space of one hundred and two days.
The Western Coast of America, from California to Behring's Strait.
On the western coast of North America, and lying between the twenty-second and thirty-second degrees of latitude, is a very singular promontory, near seven hundred miles in length, called California. It is at present subject to Spain; and is separated from New Mexico, by the Gulf of California, an arm of the sea, which is navigable by vessels of the largest size. The general surface of the country is barren, rugged, overrun with hills, rocks, and sand-banks, and unfit for agriculture. But, in a few places, where the Spanish missionaries have established settlements, the lands are fertile, and singularly productive of maize, barley, and peas. The plains, in the interior, are noted for the production of rock-salt.