104 
NATURE 
[ Vow. 30. 1882 
Every train and steamer is full of young Englishmen 
on their way out to Winnipeg, where they expect to make 
their fortunes, and no doubt it is a great place to make 
money just now. 
We were two days running up Lake Huron, for the most 
part out of sight of land, and the land we did see was 
flat and ugly, till in the evening of the second day we 
reached the river joining the two lakes (Lake Huron and 
Lake Superior), and anchored at Sault St. Marie for the 
night. The river runs between rocky pine-covered shores, 
and in the evening we had one of those sunsets one only 
seems to see in this country—a blood-red sky overhead, 
orange at the horizon, with the pine woods rising black 
against it, and the broad reaches of the river winding 
away westward, alla blaze of golden light—just the subject 
for Turner. 
The next morning we went through a lock into Lake 
Superior, and twenty-six hours’ run took us to Thunder 
Bay, a barren looking place. Hard by is Thunder Cape, 
a bold headland 1,300 feet high. The water of Lake 
Superior never rises more than two or three degrees above 
freezing-point, and in old days it would certainly have 
been thought an enchanted lake, so strange are the effects 
of the mirage. At one moment you see a long line of 
cliffs, a minute later they have turned into a reef of rocks 
hardly above the water, or a little table-topped mountain 
on the horizon suddenly splits into two sharp peaks, and 
anon takes the shape of an hour-glass. 
Funes. Winnifeg.—When we awoke this morning we 
were on the prairies—just like the sea, only grass instead 
of water—a green plain losing itself in the far horizon. 
The journey along the Northern Pacific Railway, from 
Duluth, by the side of the rapid river St. Louis was 
lovely. 
Winnipeg is a flourishing place with 20,000 inhabitants, 
where a few years ago there was nothing but a few huts. 
It stands on the Red River of the north—a fine river about 
the size of the Rhine. All the people here are Cree 
Indians, who speak their language and don't understand 
English, but they are dressed in European dress, so they 
look more like gipsies than anything else. 
Fune 27. Lort Carlton.—We arrived here yesterday, 
such lovely country, like an English park, with wild roses 
and other flowers growing in great profusion. The river 
rather reminds me of the Thames at Richmond. The 
Saskatchewan is a magnificent stream, far larger than the 
Red River, flowing between pine forests. The weather is 
simply perfect, except that the sun is rather hot in the 
middle of the day. The fare is rather rough. No milk 
or fresh breal—chiefly fish, biscuit, and salt meat. It was 
slow work getting up the rapids. A boat with a crew of 
Indians takes out a hawser a mile long, which is made 
fast to a tree above the rapids, then the other end is 
brought down to the steamer, and fastened to the capstan, 
and we slowly drag ourselves up. The steamer is pro- 
pelled by an enormous paddie wheel at her stern, and at 
the bow is a great arrangement of spars for lifting her 
off sandbanks, should she run aground ; and though she 
carried 150 tons of cargo she only drew three feet of 
water. 
On the 23rd we reached the Forks of the Saskatchewan, 
where-the river divides ; we took the northern branch and 
warped up the rapids to the settlement of “ Prince Albert,” 
where the country looks quite like England. Land is to be 
had here for 2 dollars or 8s. an acre,and it seems wonder- 
fully fertile—the soil looks so rich. It is certainly the place 
I should recommend any enterprising emigrant to come to 
if he only has a little capital to start with—3o0o/. would be 
plenty. The soil wants no clearing ; you have only to 
build a house and plough and sow yourland. The climate 
is one of the finest in the world. I was talking toa retired 
officer of the 50th who has been here seven years, who 
says he has never had an hour’s illness, and feels as though 
he were growing younger every year. 
Fort Carlton is the deau zdéal of a Hudson’s Bay fort, 
with a stockade twenty feet high and towers at the corners. 
But the days when the Blackfeet made their raids are over, 
and the Cree or Ojibbeway Indians, whose “lodges” one 
sees all around, are very pacific. A great many speak a 
little French, but no English. 
Fuly 14. [le a la Crosse.—We left Carlton on the 30th, 
z.é. My own party and two missionaries. I had a train of 
ten Red River carts drawn by horses and oxen. I drove 
in a light American waggon. The scenery was at first like 
English country, only without hedges. There was plenty 
of deep grass and vetches, which afforded splendid fodder 
for the animals. There were quantities of snipe, duck, 
and prairie chicken. The land was gay with wild flowers ; 
orange-lilles were most conspicuous, and lots of wild 
strawberries. The mosquitoes were the only drawback, at 
times forcing us to wear veils and gloves, and to eat our 
meals in the smoke of our camp fires. After three days 
we reached a hill, from whence we saw the great sub-arctic 
forest stretching away like a sea to the north. It extends 
nearly to the Arctic Circle, and from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific. 
On the oth we reached Green Lake, but it blew so hard 
that we did not start till the 11th. Our conveyance was 
a Hudson’s Bay Company’s inland boat ; our crew was of 
Crees and Chipewyans, The latter speak a language like 
the ancient Mexicans, quite unlike any other I have heard ; 
it is like the noise of a person choking. It takes years to 
learn even a smattering of it. We drifted down the stream 
all night, our boats being lashed together, and we slept as 
best we could in the bottom of them. 
Ile a la Crosse is on an island in the middle of a lake, 
and is comparatively free from mosquitoes. I had a splen- 
did boat’s crew—seven oars and a steersman; we pulled 
nearly fifty miles the first day. We rested on Sunday, and the 
day after crossed Buffalo Lake most fortunately—a fair 
wind sprang up just in time to take us across, as it cannot 
be crossed against the wind. Then we began to ascend 
the Riviére la Loche, which took us all the next day, there 
being two portages or places where the contents of the 
boats and sometimes the boats themselves have to be 
taken overland. Thence we entered Methy Lake, about 
thirty miles long at the north, and a narrow creek took 
us to the beginning of Portage la Loche, or the Long 
Portage, which is a road some twelve or fourteen miles 
long, leading to the Clear Water River which flows into 
the Athabasca and ultimately into the Mackenzie, so we 
are on the Arctic Slope at last. 
Fuly 22. Portage la Loche.—\ rode over last night in 
company with the|Hudson’s Bay Company’s officer in charge 
of the post. The road leads through pine woods, and 
passes a pretty lake, and ultimately descends a hill of 
about 400 feet into this valley. I am writing this in my 
tent, pitched on the bank of the Clear Water River, which 
flows past about three yards off. Across the river are 
wooded hills 600 feet high ; to the left the river disappears 
among the pine woods in a dark ravine; to the right it 
winds away in the distance among blue hills. It is 
all so green and pretty that it is difficult to believe that in 
a few months all will be ice and snow. All the last week 
the heat has been intense, the thermometer over 86° in 
the shade all day. This morning we saw a bear prowling 
about opposite. We are now among the Chipewyan 
Indians ; they are very different from the Crees ; in ap- 
pearance they remind me alittle of drawings of the Esqui- 
maux, with round greasy faces. About here they are 
mo-tly Roman Catholics, as there is a large mission at 
Ile a la Crosse. 
The best description of this country in general is by 
saying that it is like Switzerland without mountains, but 
with big rivers and lakes. The plants are much the same, 
and the climate is much the same. The trees are very 
fine, and, as elsewhere, strawberries, raspberries, cran- 
berries, black and red currants, and gooseberries grow wild. 
