Part 25
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
Their legs are so long, and their necks so short, that they cannot graze on level ground like other animals, but are obliged to brouze on the tops of large plants and the leaves of trees during the Summer; and in Winter they always feed on the tops of willows, and the small branches of the birch-tree; on which account they are never found during that season but in such places as can afford them a plentiful supply of their favourite food: and though they have no fore-teeth in the upper-jaw, yet I have often seen willows and small birch-trees cropped by them, in the same manner as if they had been cut by a gardener's sheers, though some of them were not smaller than common pipe-stems; they seem particularly partial to the red willow.
In Summer they are generally found to frequent the banks of rivers and lakes, probably with no other view {256} than to have the benefit of getting into the water, to avoid the innumerable multitudes of muskettos and other flies that pester them exceedingly during that season. There is also a variety of water-plants, of which the moose are very fond, and which are adapted to their necessities in a peculiar manner during the Summer season, as they can easily brouze on them when nearly emerged in water, to avoid the torment of the flies.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
The head of the moose is, as I have observed, remarkably long and large, not very unlike that of a horse; but the nose and nostrils are at least twice as large. The ears are about a foot long, and large; and they always stand erect. Their faculty of hearing is supposed to be more acute than either their sight or scent; which makes it very difficult to kill them, especially as the Indians in those parts have no other method of doing it but by creeping after them, among the trees and bushes, till they get within gun-shot; taking care always to keep to leeward of the moose, for fear of being overheard. In Summer, when they frequent the margins of rivers and lakes, they are often killed by the Indians in the water, while they are crossing rivers, or swimming from the main to islands, &c. When pursued in this manner, they are the most inoffensive of all animals, never making any resistance; and the young ones are so simple, that I remember to have seen an Indian paddle his canoe up to one of them, and take it by the poll without the least opposition: the poor {257} harmless animal seeming at the same time as contented along-side the canoe, as if swimming by the side of its dam, and looking up in our faces with the same fearless innocence that a house-lamb would, making use of its fore-foot almost every instant to clear its eyes of muskettos, which at that time were remarkably numerous.
I have also seen women and boys kill the old moose in this situation, by knocking them on the head with a hatchet; and in the Summer of one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, when I was on my passage from Cumberland House to York Fort, two boys killed a fine buck moose in the water, by forcing a stick up its fundament; for they had neither gun, bow, nor arrows with them. The common deer are far more dangerous to approach in canoes, as they kick up their hind legs with such violence as to endanger any birch-rind canoe that comes within their reach; for which reason all the Indians who kill deer upon the water are provided with a long stick that will reach far beyond the head of the canoe.
The moose are also the easiest to tame and domesticate of any of the deer kind. I have repeatedly seen them at Churchill as tame as sheep,[BD] and even more so; for they {258} would follow their keeper any distance from home, and at his call return with him, without the least trouble, or ever offering to deviate from the path.[BE]
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
The flesh of the moose is very good, though the grain is but coarse, and it is much tougher than any other kind of venison. The nose is most excellent, as is also the tongue, though by no means so fat and delicate as that of the common deer. It is perhaps worth remarking, that the livers of the moose are never found, not even at any time of the year; and, like the other deer, they have no gall. The fat of the intestines is hard, like suet; but all the external fat is soft, like that of a breast of mutton, and when put into a bladder, is as fine as marrow. In this they differ from all the other species of deer, of which the external fat is as hard as that of the kidnies.
{259} The moose in all their actions and attitudes appear very uncouth, and when disturbed, never run, only make a kind of trot, which the length of their legs enables them to do with great swiftness, and apparently with much ease; but were the country they inhabit free from under-wood, and dry underfoot, so that horsemen and dogs might follow them, they would become an easy prey, as they are both tender-footed and short-winded: But of this more hereafter.[BF]
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
The skins of the moose, when dressed by the natives, make excellent tent-covers and shoe-leather; and in fact every other part of their clothing. These, like the skins of the buffalo, are of very unequal thickness. Some of the Indian women, who are acquainted with the manufacture of them, will, by means of scraping, render them as even as a piece of thick cloth, and when well dressed they are very soft; but not being dressed in oil, they always grow hard after being wet, unless great care be taken to keep rubbing them all the time they are drying. The same may be said of all the Indian-dressed leather, except that of the wewaskish,[106] which will wash as well as shammoy-leather, and always preserve its softness.
{260} The female moose never have any horns, but the males have them of a prodigious size and weight, and very different in shape from those of the common deer. The extremity of each horn is palmated to the size of a common shovel, from which a few short branches shoot out; and the shaft of the horn is frequently as large as a common man's wrist. They shed them annually like the common deer. The horns of the moose are frequently found to exceed sixty pounds weight; and their texture, though of a large size and of such rapid growth, is much harder than any other species of deer-horns in those parts.
Though the flesh of the moose is esteemed by most Indians both for its flavour and substance, yet the Northern Indians of my crew did not reckon either it or the flesh of the buffalo substantial food. This I should think entirely proceeded from prejudice, especially with respect to the moose; but the flesh of the buffalo, though so fine to the eye, and pleasing to the taste, is so light and easy of digestion, as not to be deemed substantial food by any Indian in this country, either Northern or Southern. The moose have from one to three young at a time, and generally bring them forth in the latter end of April, or beginning of May.
[Sidenote: 1772. January. 11th.]
Soon after our arrival on the South-side of Athapuscow Lake, Matonabbee proposed continuing our course in the {261} South West quarter, in hopes of meeting some of the Athapuscow Indians; because I wished, if possible, to purchase a tent, and other ready-dressed skins from them; as a supply of those articles would at this time have been of material service to us, being in great want both of tents and shoe-leather: and though my companions were daily killing either moose or buffalo, the weather was so excessively cold, as to render dressing their skins not only very troublesome, but almost impracticable, especially to the generality of the Northern Indians, who are not well acquainted with the manufacture of that kind of leather.
To dress those skins according to the Indian method, a lather is made of the brains and some of the softest fat or marrow of the animal, in which the skin is well soaked, when it is taken out, and not only dried by the heat of a fire, but hung up in the smoke for several days; it is then taken down, and well soaked and washed in warm water, till the grain of the skin is perfectly open, and has imbibed a sufficient quantity of water, after which it is taken out and wrung as dry as possible, and then dried by the heat of a slow fire; care being taken to rub and stretch it as long as any moisture remains in the skin. By this simple method, and by scraping them afterwards, some of the moose skins are made very delicate both to the eye and the touch.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
{262} On the eleventh of January, as some of my companions were hunting, they saw the track of a strange snow-shoe, which they followed; and at a considerable distance came to a little hut, where they discovered a young woman sitting alone. As they found that she understood their language, they brought her with them to the tents. On examination, she proved to be one of the Western Dog-ribbed Indians, who had been taken prisoner by the Athapuscow Indians in the Summer of one thousand seven hundred and seventy; and in the following Summer, when the Indians that took her prisoner were near this part, she had eloped from them, with an intent to return to her own country; but the distance being so great, and having, after she was taken prisoner, been carried in a canoe the whole way, the turnings and windings of the rivers and lakes were so numerous, that she forgot the track; so she built the hut in which we found her, to protect her from the weather during the Winter, and here she had resided from the first setting in of the fall.
From her account of the moons passed since her elopement, it appeared that she had been near seven months without seeing a human face; during all which time she had supported herself very well by snaring partridges, rabbits, and squirrels; she had also killed two or three beaver, and some porcupines. That she did not seem to have been in want is evident, as she had a small stock of {263} provisions by her when she was discovered; and was in good health and condition, and I think one of the finest women, of a real Indian, that I have seen in any part of North America.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
The methods practised by this poor creature to procure a livelihood were truly admirable, and are great proofs that necessity is the real mother of invention. When the few deer-sinews that she had an opportunity of taking with her were all expended in making snares, and sewing her clothing, she had nothing to supply their place but the sinews of the rabbits legs and feet; these she twisted together for that purpose with great dexterity and success. The rabbits, &c. which she caught in those snares, not only furnished her with a comfortable subsistence, but of the skins she made a suit of neat and warm clothing for the Winter. It is scarcely possible to conceive that a person in her forlorn situation could be so composed as to be capable of contriving or executing any thing that was not absolutely necessary to her existence; but there were sufficient proofs that she had extended her care much farther, as all her clothing, beside being calculated for real service, shewed great taste, and exhibited no little variety of ornament. The materials, though rude, were very curiously wrought, and so judiciously placed, as to make the whole of her garb have a very pleasing, though rather romantic appearance.
{264} Her leisure hours from hunting had been employed in twisting the inner rind or bark of willows into small lines, like net-twine, of which she had some hundred fathoms by her; with this she intended to make a fishing-net as soon as the Spring advanced. It is of the inner bark of willows, twisted in this manner, that the Dog-ribbed Indians make their fishing-nets; and they are much preferable to those made by the Northern Indians.[BG]
Five or six inches of an iron hoop, made into a knife, and the shank of an arrow-head of iron, which served her as an awl, were all the metals this poor woman had with her when she eloped; and with these implements she had made herself complete snow-shoes, and several other useful articles.
Her method of making a fire was equally singular and curious, having no other materials for that purpose than two hard sulphurous stones. These, by long friction and hard knocking, produced a few sparks, which at length communicated to some touchwood; but as this method was attended with great trouble, and not always with success, she did {265} not suffer her fire to go out all the Winter. Hence we may conclude that she had no idea of producing fire by friction, in the manner practised by the Esquimaux, and many other uncivilized nations; because if she had, the above-mentioned precaution would have been unnecessary.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
The singularity of the circumstance, the comeliness of her person, and her approved accomplishments, occasioned a strong contest between several of the Indians of my party, who should have her for a wife; and the poor girl was actually won and lost at wrestling by near half a score different men the same evening. My guide, Matonabbee, who at that time had no less than seven wives, all women grown, besides a young girl of eleven or twelve years old, would have put in for the prize also, had not one of his wives made him ashamed of it, by telling him that he had already more wives than he could properly attend. This piece of satire, however true, proved fatal to the poor girl who dared to make so open a declaration; for the great man, Matonabbee, who would willingly have been thought equal to eight or ten men in every respect, took it as such an affront, that he fell on her with both hands and feet, and bruised her to such a degree, that after lingering some time she died.
When the Athapuscow Indians took the above Dog-ribbed Indian woman prisoner, they, according to the universal custom of those savages, surprised her and her party in {266} the night, and killed every soul in the tent, except herself and three other young women. Among those whom they killed, were her father, mother, and husband. Her young child, four or five months old, she concealed in a bundle of clothing, and took with her undiscovered in the night; but when she arrived at the place where the Athapuscow Indians had left their wives (which was not far distant), they began to examine her bundle, and finding the child, one of the women took it from her, and killed it on the spot.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
This last piece of barbarity gave her such a disgust to those Indians, that notwithstanding the man who took care of her treated her in every respect as his wife, and was, she said, remarkably kind to, and even fond of her; so far was she from being able to reconcile herself to any of the tribe, that she rather chose to expose herself to misery and want, than live in ease and affluence among persons who had so cruelly murdered her infant.[BH] The {267} poor woman's relation of this shocking story, which she delivered in a very affecting manner, only excited laughter among the savages of my party.
In a conversation with this woman soon afterward, she told us, that her country lies so far to the Westward, that she had never seen iron, or any other kind of metal, till she was taken prisoner. All of her tribe, she observed, made their hatchets and ice-chisels of deer's horns, and their knives of stones and bones; that their arrows were shod with a kind of slate, bones, and deer's horns; and the instruments which they employed to make their wood-work were nothing but beavers' teeth. Though they had frequently heard of the useful materials which the nations or tribes to the East of them were supplied with from the English, so far were they from drawing nearer, to be in the way of trading for iron-work, &c. that they were obliged to retreat farther back, to avoid the Athapuscow Indians, who made surprising slaughter among them, both in Winter and Summer.
[Sidenote: 16th.]
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
On the sixteenth, as we were continuing our course in the South West quarter, we arrived at the grand {268} Athapuscow River,[107] which at that part is about two miles wide, and empties itself into the great lake of the same name we had so lately crossed, and which has been already described.
The woods about this river, particularly the pines and poplars, are the tallest and stoutest I have seen in any part of North America. The birch also grows to a considerable size, and some species of the willow are likewise tall: but none of them have any trunk, like those in England.
The bank of the river in most parts is very high, and in some places not less than a hundred feet above the ordinary surface of the water. As the soil is of a loamy quality, it is very subject to moulder or wash away by heavy rains, even during the short Summer allotted to this part of the globe. The breaking up of the ice in the Spring is annually attended with a great deluge, when, I am told, it is not uncommon to see whole points of land washed away by the inundations; and as the wood grows close to the edge of the banks, vast quantities of it are hurried down the stream by the irresistible force of the water and ice, and conveyed into the great lake already mentioned; on the shores and islands of which, there lies the greatest quantity of drift wood I ever saw. Some of this wood is large enough to make masts for the largest ships that are built. The banks of the river in general are so steep as to be inaccessible to either man or beast, except in some slacks, or gulleys, that have been wore down by heavy rains, {269} backwaters, or deluges; and even those slacks are, for the most part, very difficult to ascend, on account of the number of large trees which lie in the way.
There are several low islands in this river, which are much frequented by the moose, for the sake of the fine willows they produce, which furnish them with a plentiful supply of their favourite food during the Winter. Some of those islands are also frequented by a number of rabbits; but as larger game could be procured in great plenty, those small animals were not deemed worthy our notice at present.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
Beside the grand river already mentioned, there are several others of less note, which empty themselves into the great Athapuscow Lake: There are also several small rivers and creeks on the North East side of the Lake that carry off the superfluous waters, some of which, after a variety of windings through the barren grounds to the North of Churchill River, are lost in the marshes and low grounds, while others, by means of many small channels and rivulets, are discharged into other rivers and lakes, and at last, doubtless, find their way into Hudson's Bay. These rivers, though numberless, are all so full of shoals and stones, as not to be navigable for an Indian canoe to any considerable distance; and if they were, it would be of little or no use to the natives, as none of them lead within several hundred miles of Churchill River.
{270} Agreeably to Matonabbee's proposal, we continued our course up the Athapuscow River for many days, and though we passed several parts which we well knew to have been the former Winter-haunts of the Athapuscow Indians, yet we could not see the least trace of any of them having been there that season. In the preceding Summer, when they were in those parts, they had set fire to the woods; and though many months had elapsed from that time till our arrival there, and notwithstanding the snow was then very deep, the moss was still burning in many places, which at first deceived us very much, as we took it for the smoke of strange tents; but after going much out of our way, and searching very diligently, we could not discover the least track of a stranger.
[Sidenote: 27th.]
Thus disappointed in our expectations of meeting the Southern Indians, it was resolved (in Council, as it may be called) to expend as much time in hunting buffalo, moose, and beaver as we could, so that we might be able to reach Prince of Wales's Fort a little before the usual time of the ships arrival from England. Accordingly, after having walked upwards of forty miles by the side of Athapuscow River, on the twenty-seventh of January we struck off to the Eastward, and left the River at that part where it begins to tend due South.
[Sidenote: 1772. January.]
In consequence of this determination of the Indians, we continued our course to the Eastward; but as game of all kinds was very plentiful, we made but short days {271} journies, and often remained two or three days in one place, to eat up the spoils or produce of the chace. The woods through which we were to pass were in many places so thick, that it was necessary to cut a path before the women could pass with their sledges; and in other places so much of the woods had formerly been set on fire and burnt, that we were frequently obliged to walk farther than we otherwise should have done, before we could find green brush enough to floor our tents.
[Sidenote: February. 15th-24th.]
From the fifteenth to the twenty-fourth of February, we walked along a small river that empties itself into the Lake Clowey,[108] near the part where we built canoes in May one thousand seven hundred and seventy-one. This little river is that which we mentioned in the former part of this Journal, as having communication with the Athapuscow Lake: but, from appearances, it is of no consequence whence it takes its rise, or where it empties itself, as one half of it is nearly dry three-fourths of the year. The intervening ponds, however, having sufficient depth of water, are, we may suppose, favourable situations for beaver, as many of their houses are to be found in those parts.
[Sidenote: 24th.]
[Sidenote: 1772. February.]
On the twenty-fourth, a strange Northern Indian leader, called Thlew-sa-nell-ie, and several of his followers, joined us from the Eastward. This leader presented Matonabbee and myself with a foot of tobacco each, and a two-quart {272} keg of brandy, which he intended as a present for the Southern Indians; but being informed by my companions, that there was not the least probability of meeting any, he did not think it worth any farther carriage. The tobacco was indeed very acceptable, as our stock of that article had been expended some time. Having been so long without tasting spirituous liquors, I would not partake of the brandy, but left it entirely to the Indians, to whom, as they were numerous, it was scarcely a taste for each. Few of the Northern Indians are fond of spirits, especially those who keep at a distance from the Fort: some who are near, and who usually shoot geese for us in the Spring, will drink it at free cost as fast as the Southern Indians, but few of them are ever so imprudent as to buy it.
The little river lately mentioned, as well as the adjacent lakes and ponds, being well-stocked with beaver, and the land abounding with moose and buffalo, we were induced to make but slow progress in our journey. Many days were spent in hunting, feasting, and drying a large quantity of flesh to take with us, particularly that of the buffalo; for my companions knew by experience, that a few days walk to the Eastward of our present situation would bring us to a part where we should not see any of those animals.
The strangers who had joined us on the twenty-fourth informed us, that all were well at Prince of Wales's Fort {273} when they left it last; which, according to their account of the Moons past since, must have been about the fifth of November one thousand seven hundred and seventy-one. These strangers only remained in our company one night before the Leader and part of his crew left us, and proceeded on their journey to the North Westward; but a few of them having procured some furrs in the early part of the Winter, joined our party, with an intent to accompany us to the Factory.
[Sidenote: 28th.]