The frozen Northland; life with the Esquimo in his own country

Preface

The passion for adventure is inherent in our race, let alone the interest of scientific curiosity, which prompts men to go in search of the unknown.

But science is a great republic in which all have equal rights. Other nations have competed with ourselves to discover the secrets so jealously guarded by the lady of the ice and snow.

In the year of 1897 a new word appeared in the American vocabulary, and the Klondike became a surprise and a sensation, not only to our people, but to the world. Then came the rush. Never has the world witnessed such suffering and hardships. To a few it brought wealth, but to thousands it brought poverty, shattered health, and disappointment.

The unmarked graves of the frozen Northland will never tell the rest of the story.

But the object of the author is to give to the readers of **The Frozen Northland" only personal experiences, together with the knowledge gleaned by the way, with the modes and customs of our dusky friends who dwell in that remote polar region.

PREFACE

We have endeavored to present both the sunshine and the shade as we saw it.

This book goes out with the earnest desire of the author to entertain its readers by giving facts that are more interesting than misleading fiction.

W. S. M.

Contents

I. The Return of Jack Wegmer, - - 9

II. Camp Life at Athabasca, - - 18

III. Down the Athabasca River, - - 23

Chapter I

When Jack Wegmer left Chicago a poor boy, to seek his fortune in the frozen, unexplored regions of the Northlands, his friends shook their heads with a feeling that he was sacrificing his life for that which could only exist In the Imagination of his adventurous mind.

Jack had a wild, roving disposition, reckless to the extreme, and the thoughts of camp life, without restraint from the law of civilization, seemed to just suit his nature. Three years passed and not a word had come back from the unknown country to tell of his life or prospects, and people of the neighborhood had almost ceased to comment upon his perilous adventure ; in fact, all except his nearest relatives had seemed to drop him entirely from their minds.

But when, late in the fall of the third year. Jack returned with $35,000 In gold, a flurry of excitement ran through the circle of his acquaintances, and Jack became the hero of all who knew him. But the older ones shook their heads, for, if the young man who went away three years before was reckless, the returned "Jack the Miner," as he was termed, was tenfold more so.

He spent his money lavishly, plunging into the depths of vice whose open doors stood ever ready to receive him. But his more intimate friends often observed a wild, troubled look in his eyes, and a sad expression of fear seemed to take possession of him. But he would immediately shake them off and dive into dissipation and pleasure more recklessly than ever. He would tell many exaggerated tales of camp life, and of the rich gold strikes he had made, and often expressed his determination to return to his mine as soon as spring opened the next year.

But as spring approached and the time drew near for his departure, a sudden attack of typhoid fever took possession of him, and grim death fastened its fangs upon him and could not be bribed by all the gold of Klondike.

When these serious complications set in, the chart was brought before him, which he had often referred to as leading to a rich mine of gold, but he was too sick to explain, and with a wild look of fear, as of some haunted creature, he pushed it from him, and soon passed into a state of unconsciousness.

In three days Jack was dead. He had braved perils by land and sea, and now was snatched away by the hand of death when on the very threshold of apparent happiness and ease. But such is the mystery of destiny.

It was now the month of March, and his friends 10 who believed that the chart which Jack had so jealously guarded would lead them to a mine of wealth, decided to organize a party and carry out the plan of the dead miner. Only a few weeks intervened before they must needs leave the land of civilization, and plunge into the region of the frozen Northland. Consequently, a party was soon made up of four determined men (including the writer) and on the 12th day of April, 1898, left Chicago on the midnight express, which was to carry them as far as possible into the great Northwest, Canada, two thousand miles away to the North.

On arriving at the terminus of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, we found the ground covered with snow, and our overcoats and gloves served us well in keeping out the cold while we proceeded to investigate the prospect of securing supplies for our Northern journey.

Outfitting for a party of four, with supplies and equipments for a journey to the Arctic Coast, is not an easy undertaking. But there are guide books and guide books sent out by every concern that kept Arctic supplies, and with several of these in our possession, after two days of bantering, choosing, and then exchanging, we succeeded in closing a bargain with the Hudson's Bay Company at Edmonton, Northwest Territory, Canada. Edmonton Is located on the Saskatchewan River, at the terminus of a branch of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, which leaves the main line at Calgary, and is at this time the northernmost point on the North American Continent to be reached by a continuous line of railroad. Edmonton Is the largest market II for raw furs in the world, and in the old days was the only important settlement in that section, being the nerve center of the Hudson's Bay Company's operations. To-day their business of collecting furs extends to that district of the Northwest Territory known as the Mackenzie, extending to the Arctic Sea and to the edges of Yukon, British Columbia, and Keewatin. However, only a comparatively small number of the native trappers come into Edmonton. The others go only to the primitive and isolated posts or landings in the North Country. There they deal with the traders, some of whom represent the great companies, while others buy on their own account. Pelts are exchanged for supplies, and occasionally a banknote or a few pieces of silver. But it is little enough the Indian gets at best. The market value of skins brought into Edmonton each year, exclusive of those of the Hudson's Bay Company, is between $500,000 and $600,000, but much less than that goes to the trappers. The traders must have their profit, and they get at least as much out of the trappers as of the man to whom they sell. However, the Indian seems to wish for nothing more than a little coarse food and clothing and guns and traps wherewith to carry on his business. The white man finds his justification in this fact, and to his credit it is said that from the old days down to the present time he has never permitted a hungry Indian to be unfed nor a sick one to be uncared for. He has even gone further than that. If the peltries brought in by the natives are not worth as much as the supplies they actually need, 12 the white man gives them the balance and "charges it" to them until the next season.

Some of the Indians in the more northerly sections, where the furs are finest because of the greater cold, seldom or never see a white man or any signs of civilization. They remain in the woods from one year's end to another. Pelts which they gather and place in caches are collected by half-breed representatives of the traders, who follow the trails and settle accounts with the trappers whenever the opportunity ofifers. Members of many tribes are engaged in the work, among the most prominent being the Crees, Chippewayans, Loucheux, Dog-Ribs, Yellow Knives, Ojibways, Blackfeet, Crows, Shoshones, Stonies, Kastenais, Chinooks, Chilcoots, and farther north the Eskimos.

Many of these are shiftless and not Inclined to labor more than is actually necessary to bring -in the necessities of life, but the white man pays high tribute to the honesty of practically all of them.

Our party, after securing the services of two half-breed Cree Indians, with horses and wagons, started on a tedious tramp through an uninhabited wilderness to Athabasca Landing, ninety miles away to the north. It was now the i8th of April, but the Ice had not yet broken up, and we crossed the Saskatchewan River just at daybreak with our three tons of provisions, clothing, and mining equipage, drawn by eight wiry mustangs, while astride the left wheeler sat a half-breed Cree, whose shouts of "Cush! Cush! " and crack of the whip echoed through the scrub timbered hills and ravines. Our little party of four whites, with guns slung to our shoulders, followed behind the slowly moving train, enjoying the novel surroundings and noting here and there the signs of game, which were sometimes the footprints made by Bruin In the sand or by the sharp hoof of the wary moose, while many a grouse during the day fell a victim to our fire, thus adding "the real thing," as Thompson would say, to our supper as we sat around the campfire at night.

The third day out we crossed- Sturgeon River about noon, where we decided to camp until the next day to give the horses a chance to browse, and to rest our already blistered feet. The sun shone warm during the day, but the nights were chill and frosty, and our heavy woolen blankets served us well as we lay on our bed of spruce boughs and listened to the querulous howl of the coyote.

No incident of note occurred until the morning of the sixth day. We iiad camped on Stony Creek, which is about ten miles from the landing. Moose signs were plenty, and we had been out early to try for a shot before starting and had just returned to breakfast disappointed, when suddenly one of the Indians, who had started out where the horses were feeding, came running into the tent, and catching up his rifle, sprang onto one of the nearest horses and dashed away lYito the scattering timber. As we stood watching him, a moose was seen to step Into the creek bed a short distance up the stream, where it stood apparently gazing at two of the horses which were tethered nearby. Breakfast was forgotten, and with rifle in hand we each dodged behind a thicket, through which we could peer, and awaited developments. The Indian could be seen circling through the timber and coming nearer the moose from the opposite direction, with his rifle poised and pointed at the game. The cayuse, being of nearly the same color as the moose, did not frighten it in the least, and it stood watching the approach until we began to be impatient because the Cree still withheld his fire. But at this juncture the moose must have begun to scent danger, for it suddenly bounded a few steps up the slope and turned its head back toward the Indian, when a report rang out, and the moose was seen to turn a complete somersault and plunge into the thicket which grew along the bank of the creek. The next moment such a snorting and kicking as begun among our horses I never saw before, as, breaking the lariats, they came rushing and tearing through the brush to where our wagons were standing. The moose, crazed by the shot, and no doubt taking the mustangs for other moose, ran bumping against trees and over bushes in a mad effort to follow them, but finally laid down not fifty feet from where we were standing, when a well-directed shot settled the matter. It was a two-year-old cow, and furnished us with the finest venison for many days.

That night we reached Athabasca Landing, and, pitching our big tent (which was I2x 14 feet) placed all our belongings inside. The half-breeds, after receiving their pay of $60, drove into the edge of the timber, turned their tired ponies out to browse, and rolling

IS themselves in their blankets, were soon asleep. The next morning each was astir before daybreak. Much work had to be done before starting on our long journey down stream, and it was already later than we- had expected to arrive here. Several miners had come down from the Hudson Bay post at Little Slave Lake, and were waiting for the river to clear of ice before starting. Others who were employed by the Hudson Bay Company were engaged in repairing or building scows, either for their own use or to sell, while a few Indian tepees could be seen back in the edge of the timber. Three or four tents were pitched upon the level patch of ground, near the south bank of the river, while an old shanty, occupied by the Hudson Bay Company, was all that was to be seen of what was, a few days later, a swarming, bustling village.

On learning that some miners had a portable sawmill a few miles up the river, we immediately shouldered what tools we could carry, and, leaving one man to care for the camp, started up river. The day was half gone before we reached the place, where we found three of the most woe-begone men one could possibly imagine. They had spent three weeks in trying to set up their little mill, but possessing no experience, they could not make it work, and were about to abandon it and go down to the landing for help. They had come down the river before the ice had broken, expecting to have the lumber sawed and their boat built in time to leave at the first breaking up of the ice. But now the river was nearly clear and their prospect was anything

i6 but flattering. Our party being composed of two practical engineers and one carpenter, we asked permission to overhaul the machinery, which was readily given. In fact, I believe if we had agreed to saw out lumber for their boat they would have given us the entire mill outfit. But suffice it to say, we worked all the afternoon, and the next day we began to saw, and a finer mill no one could ask for. The side hill above the mill was covered with Norway pines, and a skidway was full of logs before we began. We sawed out lumber sufficient for two boats, and then we turned the mill over to its original owners, and a happier set of men I never saw. Soon boat loads of miners began coming down the river, and orders for lumber came thick and fast, until, when we left them, they were selling boat lumber for $35 per thousand, the miners rolling the logs onto the skidway. Whether they ever left for down-stream or not, we never heard, but one thing we did know, and that was that they had a Klondike all their own.

II Camp Life at Athabasca

The next two weeks were spent In building our boats. The scow being thirty-two feet long with eight-foot beam, twenty-eight-foot mast, with plenty of sails, two sets of oars, sixteen feet long, and a sweep which worked on a pivot at the stern of the boat. Each end of the boat was decked over for eight feet with matched lumber, while all over, from deck to deck, was nicely fitted heavy canvas to button over the outside of the gunwale during wet, stormy weather. All the necessary tools and materials were brought up from the camp in a small boat (borrowed from the workmen at the landing), and for the first few days we worked almost constantly, hardly stopping to eat or sleep. As all hands had been retained to push forward the boat-building, we were now becoming uneasy as to the safety of our camp at the landing, and# this the more so, as word came to us that many miners had already arrived. So, when Saturday night came. It was decided to launch our scow, load In our tools, lumber, and material, and float down to the landing, where we could finish, pitch, and caulk her, and at the same time guard our outfit from any intrustlon. As we came down near the landl8

CAMP LIFE AT ATHABASCA

ing, the barking of dogs and shouting of men could plainly be heard, while no less than twenty tents could be seen pitched along the edge of the river. A sawmill was on the ground and being set up by the Hudson Bay Company, while several log cabins were being completed and already occupied. We drew the scow up opposite our tent and hastened to examine our neglected outfit. The front of the tent had been torn open and no less than fifty pounds of our best bacon partly eaten and entirely spoiled by thieving dogs. Whether the dogs were alone in breaking into our tent, we could only conjecture, but we swore vengeance on any prowling curs for all time to come, and many a retreating howl could be heard during our stay, caused by a dash of hot water which the cook kept constantly on hand.

Sunday was spent in leisurely strolling about the place or talking over our future prospects, for not a stroke of work was done on that day. The example was set by the employees of the Hudson Bay Company, and all fell into line as a matter of course. Toward night we heard singing in one of the tents, and on walking over, found a meeting in progress, and while not a strictly Christian congregation, many took part, telling of the loved ones left behind, of the dangers before them, and beseeching the guidance of Him who rules both land and sea.

Having noticed a small stream emptying into the river, which appeared to contain fish, I expressed a desire one evening, as we sat in camp, to try my luck the next morning at catching a few fish for breakfast. The idea meeting with the approval of the boys, I hunted up our box of fishing tackle, and having chosen a couple of small hooks and lines, procured some bait, and then turned in for the night. The next morning just at daybreak Sisk and mysejf w^ere a half-mile up the creek, casting our hooks into all the pebbly pools above which the little stream rippled and tumbled in its haste to reach the river. A few trout were taken, but they were mostly small fry, and we reached the river with scarcely enough shiners for a single meal, not to speak of the four robust, hungry men, each expecting to breakfast on fish. As we stood watching the scores of minnows that were darting about at the mouth of the stream, we heard a vigorous **swish" and a "flap" as a great pike shot in among them, scattering them in every direction, and securing a mouthful, swam back in the river. In a few moments the same thing was repeated, until no less than a dozen large fish of the pickerel tribe had come in for a breakfast off the minnows. Without a word, we both started on a run for the camp, and when we returned there were four of us with dip-nets, hooks, line and reel, and flies of every description. Talk about fun! Those fish were nearly starved, and I doubt if they ever saw a hook before. The first cast a "dusty miller" was taken the moment it struck the water, and no matter what the bait, or how careless or awkward the cast, it was taken as soon as it fell. Breakfast and work were alike forgotten, and at nine o'clock we had taken more fish than we could carry. We sold enough to pay for our time, and gave many away. But I have 20

CAMP LIFE AT ATHABASCA

never seen fish so anxious to be caught as on the morning we first went to try our luck. I often heard, when farther down the river, of the Indians catching fish at the landing with only a piece of red flannel for bait, and I believed every word of It.

The Athabasca River is a very beautiful stream, with a current of about four miles an hour. It Is five hundred yards wide, and Its sloping banks are covered with spruce', hemlock, and pine.

The Ice had now all disappeared, the water had receded to its usual depth, and many boats were starting on the perilous trip — with dangers untried and unknown to the rmst of them — which If successful would perhaps secure for them a little of the vast wealth which the whole world madly desires.

Will we succeed? Time alone can tell. It was now the 8th of May, and Athabasca Landing was a swarming village of four hundred Inhabitants. Many had come over the same trail we had taken, while Indian guides from Lake La Biche and other points along the river could be seen standing around, anxious for an engagement to pilot our boats through the rapids and over the portages that lay between Grand Rapids and Fort McMurray, a distance of one hundred and eighty miles down stream. Accosting one of these guides, who was a tall, noble-looking fellow — his black beard and clear complexion showing plainly his French descent — ^we inquired If he was engaged. He told us in very plain English that he was not, but that he had acted as guide for fur traders and explorers for the past 21 twenty years, and being acquainted with every spot In the river, could pilot several boat-loads as well as one. On Inquiring of the Hudson Bay Company, we found him to be one of the most reliable guides that had ever been In their employ, unsurpassing for honesty and truthfulness — which we afterwards found to be true. He was known far and near as Captain Shot. We plainly saw that he was waiting for a Klondike price, so we offered him $50 to pilot us to Fort McMurray, and added that he might engage as many other boats to follow us as he could, but that we should expect him to ride with us and handle the sweep. As our offer was $10 more than the others were paying, he said, "All right, saire," and started away. We were not sure at first what he Intended to do, but when we were ready to start. Captain Shot was the first man on board, and proved an indispensable and agreeable companion.

Ill

Down the Athabasca River

Lost! Captain Shot's Story

Our boat was now finished, w^th the small skiff dancing at its side, and loading all our belongings into it, we rowed out into the middle of the river and started down-stream. As we rounded the bend a short distance below the Landing I raised my oars out of the water and glanced back at the little village, now dotted with a hundred tents and cabins, its main street pulsing with the hurly-burly of money-getting, and reminding one in many ways of Leadville during the boom days, while along the beach boats of every style and shape lay moored. "Was it possible, and all in two weeks?" But the thick fur trees quickly shut out the sight, and as the captain's voice rang out, I began pulling at the oar again, while a song rang upon the water like the following :

They left behind them foe and friend, And disappeared from haunts of men, They climbed the snow-capped mountain peaks, And crossed the frozen lakes and creeks To Klondike.

They braved the howling northern blast That froze their marrow as it passed, Footsore and weary, worn, dismayed, They never let the vision fade

Of Klondike.

After rowing for some time, a light breeze sprang up, and hoisting the square sail we threw ourselves upon the soft bedding near the rear deck and enjoyed the beautiful scenery along the shore. Several times ducks came swooping down the stream and would alight near us, only to fall a victim to our ever-ready fowling pieces. While at Edmonton we had procured a fine water spaniel called Sport, which now performed yeoman's service for us in retrieving game shot from the boat.

The second day out, Pelican Rapids were passed. Here we found a boat stranded on the rocks; the owners of the boat having no guide, had struck against a rock and were unable to shove off. With our help they were soon in deep water again, and crossing over to the opposite side passed on In safety. Several bands of Indians were camped at this point, engaged in catching fish that became stranded on the gravel below the rapids where the water was too shallow for them to escape. Tons of fish were taken in this way each spring by the natives. The next day we arrived at Grand Rapids, where the foaming torrent races along on both sides of the river with an island a half-mile in length In Its center, over which our goods and boat had to be portaged to the lower end of the rapids. This being the route of the Hudson Bay Company, a good road

DOWN THE ATHABASCA RIVER

had been cut through the center of the island, but to portage a boat like ours a half-mile, with all of the luggage, was no small undertaking. Nevertheless, our goods were promptly thrown out and piled up on the island, our boats drawn to land, and the work of portaging began. By cutting stringers and rollers from the small pines that grew upon the island, our boat was soon on its way. Here the Captain's son, a stalwart boy of eighteen, joined us with two other boatloads of miners, and as our boat was the first to reach the island, all hands turned to and rushed the work along. All night we worked as men seldom work, and completely tired out just as day began to break, we dropped upon the ground over which we had lugged our ponderous loads and slept until the hot sun and wicked sand-flies drove us again to action. Another day and night similar to the first followed before the last boat was launched at the lower end of the island. But time was passing and we did not spare ourselves. Hoisting our sail, we now pushed forward, resting or catching a little sleep as the scow sped on its way. Rapids now came thick and fast. Brule Rapids and Boiler Rapids were run without trouble, but on reaching Cascade Rapids, which had a fall of eight feet, and which drop suddenly over sharp rocks and boulders into a foaming whirlpool below, we were obliged to unload our cargo and let the boat down with ropes from the edge of the bank. Now these banks were perpendicular rock, towering high above our heads with only a small jutting ledge on which to stand. But nothing daunted, we unloaded our goods and began carrying them along the narrow shelf to the lower end of the rapids. With hammer and chisel a block and tackle was made fast to the rock just above the falls, through which a rope was passed, and one end fastened to the stern of the boat, while just below the rapids was a similar block with rope attached to the bow of the boat. Captain Shot now sprang into the boat, and with the sweep turned her bow toward the middle of the stream, where the rapids were less dangerous, while the rope from the stern held the boat from going too swiftly. As the falls were reached, the Captain, with a quick move, threw off the rope from the stern and shot ahead Into the whirling maelstrom below. But the men below the falls were waiting, and quickly drew the uninjured boat to shore. In which was a small amount of water with a very wet Captain clinging to the sweep.

Our cargo was soon loaded, and the next day at twelve o'clock we reached Fort McMurray, which Is one of the Hudson Bay Company's most important posts, and from which place Captain Shot was to leave us and return to Athabasca Landing on foot. But a heavy rain set in with a north wind blowing, and we all decided to wait over until more favorable weather. That night, after supper, as we were all sitting In the tent around our little camp stove, several of the residents of the fort came in, and after talking over their experiences in that far Northern country some one asked Captain Shot to tell us of the time he was lost in the great woods. The Captain, after some hesitation, be- 26

DOWN THE ATHABASCA RIVER

gan: "It is seldom you ever hear of an Indian being lost in his own country. But I am no Indian. My mother was as pure a French woman as ever crossed the Canadian border, and I, her only son, was left fatherless before I can remember. But the Indians were kind, and my mother became the squaw of an Indian chief. But long ago she went to join her first love. Since then I have lived entirely among the Crees, hunter, trapper, and guide. My wife, a Cree, and the only son I have left of two, you see before you. Of the other one I now speak. It was seven years ago in September. A party of fur traders came to the fort to engage me to guide them over this same route in a canoe to Fort Chipewyan. I knew it w^ould be late before I could return, but they offered well, and wt started Immediately, taking my oldest boy — a lad of fourteen — with me. Much difficulty was experienced in getting down. The ice had begun to form and we had much bad weather, but we finally reached the fort, and after settling satisfactorily started back by way of an old trail which runs more direct than the river. I figured to reach home in about eight days. After traveling nearly a day, a rain set in, accompanied with sleet, and soon everything was covered with ice. On reaching a creek we found the water so high we could not cross, and cutting some small pines with my hatchet we threw them across the stream, but when we attempted to cross they slipped from under us and we plunged into the water. I succeeded in reaching the other side, but my boy was carried 27 down stream and finally caught by some driftwood, when I threw hira the end of a pole and drew him to shore.