72 



EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH 



be found, which, in a wilderness of broken timbered hills and 

 lakes, was too far to venture with Andrew alone, as he had 

 come from Simpson the year before and knew no more about 

 the country than I. I decided to make a reconnaissance on my 

 own account toward the Barren Ground by way of the Yellow 

 Knife River, which enters the lake sixty miles southeast of Rae. 



I received directions as to the route from four different per- 

 sons — who all disagreed. An Indian is usually considered a 

 safe guide, though I have known of their sense of orientation 

 being at fault. He may be a safe guide, but I never found him 

 a reliable guide post. My two years' experience was too brief 

 to allow me to generalize; I can only say that such sketch 

 maps as they prepared for me were sadly out of proportion, 

 and nothing further than the existence of a topographical feat- 

 ure could be established. 



There were two hundred canoes at the post, but none of them 

 were large enough for two men and the camp outfit, except 

 those made especially for crossing the lake, which it would be 

 impossible to use, owing to the portages. The shortest route 

 to the Barren Ground is said to contain forty portages, so that 

 the birch-bark canoes are made very light for carrying. They 

 are thirteen to fifteen feet in length, two feet beam, with straight 

 sides. The ends are curved upward and decked over with 

 bark for a short distance. Owing to the long upward curve 

 they are short keeled and cranky. They veer so easily that 

 only one or two strokes can be taken before changing to the 

 other side. Double-bladed paddles are never used, though an 

 extra paddle is always carried for use in case one is broken in 

 a rapid or a heavy sea. 



Early on the afternoon of July 18th Andrew and I loaded 

 our canoes on the rocky beach before the post, and " amid the 

 applause of the multitude," I made my first attempt at paddling 

 single-handed. It was vain to try to reassure myself with the 

 thought that the spectators were half-breeds and Indians whose 

 opinion, however expressed, could not effect my nerves. I did 

 care very much, indeed, for the estimate formed by the fort 

 metis has great weight with the Indians, and my success as a 

 zoological collector depended to a considerable extent on just 

 such trivial considerations. To those people, the appearance 

 presented by a visitor at his arrival and departure is of the 



