322 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[April 25, 1903. 
A Cruise in the Ojibway Paradise. 
In Two Paris — Part One, 
The attractions of the Ojibway Paradise, or the Tcnia- 
gami Lake region, had become irresistible, and after many 
conferences with Mr. Salsbury, passenger agent of the C. 
P. R. R., who was most patient and obliging, and did 
everj'thing in his power to procure information for us. we 
left Pittsburg on the evening of August 26, 1902. Leav- 
ing Toronto at one o'clock we reached North Bay about 
half past ten on the 27th and spent the rest of the night 
at the hotel. We dressed in our cruising suits the next 
morning and soon after six o'clock were rushing eastward 
to Mattawa on the C. P. express. 
Mattawa is quite a pretty town with several hotels, a 
number of large brick business buildings and many pretty 
homes. There is a magnificent stone cathedral here, but 
we did not have time to visit it. 
From Mattawa we took the branch road which con- 
nects Mattawa with Kippewa. The train on this road 
runs only three times a week — Tuesdays, Thursdays and 
Saturdays, leaving Mattawa about ten in the morning 
and returning about five in the evening, thus making con- 
nections with the steamer on Lake Teraiscaming. We had 
but a short wait at Mattawa and did not try to see the 
town until our return. 
The branch road follows the windings of the Ottawa 
River, which, with its high bluffs and numerous rapids, 
is very picturesque. We arrived at Temiscaming before 
one o'clock and went to the Bellevue Hotel for dinner. 
We were already dressed in our cruising suits, so ar- 
ranged to have our trunk left in the wareroom, after 
taking out our duffle and putting in our suit case, travel- 
ing hats and coats. We should have taken our trunk 
through to Haileybury, changed our clothes at the hotel 
there and had the trunk sent back to the hotel at Temis- 
caming. 
About three o'clock we began our journey up Lake 
Temiscaming. The dav was warm, the air pure and clear 
and the scenery charming. The steamer is small, but we 
were fortunate enough to get a stateroom, and the meals 
w-ere good. About dark we passed the mouth of the 
Montreal River, and an hour later tied up to the dock at 
Ville Marie for the night. In the morning the steamer 
left Ville Marie before I had commenced to think about 
getting up, so I did not see the town. As we came from 
the dining room, after an excellent breakfast, the whistle 
blew for Haileybury, and we rushed down to see after our 
baggage. 
There are but few docks and the water is so shallow the 
steamer has to anchor out in the lake. A pointer, which 
they tow, is brought alongside the steamer and baggage 
and passengers taken ashore in that. A surveying party 
was going ashore at Haileybury to do some work up the 
Montreal River, and w'e had to wait for the pointer to 
make the second trip. There will be no trouble of that 
kind at Haileybury in the future, for they were building a 
dock when we were there. 
Tourists can outfit at Mattawa and start on the canoe 
trip at the mouth of the Montreal, and then into the 
Matabitchouan River ; but this is going up stream, and a 
shallow one at that, with a heavy load of provisions. The 
Matabitchouan is full of shallow rapids that can be run 
coming down stream with light loads, but must be carried 
around going up. Then there are two portages over a 
mile long on this river, and both of them are hard, so it 
is well to have the loads as light as possible when you 
reach them. These are the only long, hard portages on 
the trip. 
We had written to Mr. Paul A. Cobbold, at Hailey- 
bury, to engage two good guides and, when we finally got 
ashore, he and the two guides were waiting for us. The 
guides picked up our baggage and we all went to Mr. 
Cobbold's store for provisions. 
Our guides were Samuel Stata and Robert Morrison, 
professional guides and thoroughly reliable and trust- 
worthy. They know all this region well, are first-class 
woodsmen and old hunters, and as an outdoor cook Sam 
has but few equals. These men spared no pains to make 
us comfortable, and took us on side trips for extra good' 
fishing, to show us game and for good duck shooting. 
For carrying they used the tump Hne, a leather strap not 
less than twenty feet long. This is made by taking a 
piece of leather from two to three inches wide and about 
two feet long, then sewing to each end a strap about ten 
feet long and tapering from an inch wide at one end to 
less than one-half inch at the other. For carrying the 
narrow straps are tied, one around each end of a box or 
large pack, in such a way that when the broad strap is 
placed around the forehead the pack rests on the hips. 
Other packs are then piled on this till a man has all he 
can carry. The last pack rests on the back of his neck 
and head, thus leaving both hands free. Our guides 
could carry two hundred pounds over a short portage 
without stopping to rest. 
In outfitting we used the provision list we had last 
summer, adding two pounds of dried peaches, two pounds 
of raisins and two cans of evaporated cream. At Mr. 
Cobbold's suggestion we changed our list to three pounds 
coffee, two pounds tea, ten pounds flour, ten pounds corn 
meal and twenty-two pounds bread. The bread was baked 
especially for carrying, in a brick oven, and, while not 
hard, was well baked. Each loaf was baked in a separate 
pan and well browned all over. We had no trouble keep- 
ing it, for while it did not get hard, neither did it mould, 
and we ate the last of it the twelfth day out. We got all 
our provisions from Mr. Cobbold, and found the bacon 
and everything first-class, with prices about the same as 
at home. We had with us a cooking outfit, one tent, two 
gum blankets, duffle bags, small sacks for provisions, a 
small ax and two pair of six-pound woolen blankets. Mr. 
Cobbold said we would not be warm enough and, at his 
suggestion, we hired a rabbit skin blanket. These are 
made by the Indians. They cure the skins and cut them 
round and round till they have a long string like a carpet 
rag, which is then twisted, fur side out, and knit into a 
blanket. We would have suffered with the cold without 
our rabbit skin blanket. We also hired one tent and two 
pair of blankets for the guides, one tarpaulin for covering 
provisions at night, two tump lines, one additional bucket 
for cooking, a shotgun and a large ax, for Sam said we 
would need good fires to keep us warm. Everything 
needed for either hunting or fishing trip, except guns and 
fishing tackle, can be hired from Mr. Cobbold at very 
reasonable rates. Indeed, when we had bought our pro- 
visions and paid our bill we felt that we had never been 
more fairly treated when outfitting. 
Mr. Cobbold has for hire birchbark, basswood and 
cedar canoes at from twenty-five to fifty cents per day. 
As we had never cruised in an Indian canoe we hired one 
large birchbark. 
The guides packed everything in the sacks and went to 
engage the team to haul us over the six-mile portage to 
Sharp Lake, and we went to the hotel for dinner. There 
is a good hotel here, and we got an excellent dinner for 
twenty-five cents. The guides had got their dinner i>t 
their own homes, and when we came back to the store 
had everything on the wagon and were ready to start. 
The first part of the road is good, and has been enchant- 
ing before the pine forest, through which it runs, .was 
burned. We passed several clearings with comfortable 
log houses on them and stopped at the last one for a 
drink. An old gentleman was sitting by the door reading 
a book that he had gotten out of the library at Hailey- 
bury. I have forgotten the title, but remember it was a 
story of the far North. 
The road was getting very rough and we had given up 
our seats on the wagon soon after leaving the burnt 
country. We found a coat and small satchel on the road. 
The satchel contained a rosary, a prayer book, and a deck 
of cards. The owner was evidently gettings things badly 
mixed. A wagon, carrying provisions for the surveying 
party, was ahead of us making the trip overland to 
Partage Bay, and these things had fallen off the load. 
We enjoj'ed the walk througli the woods very much, but 
decided that, by the time the driver got his team back to 
Haileybury he would earn his $5, for the road is horribly 
rough in places. 
The guides had our canoe loaded and we were about 
ready to start across Sharp Lake when the rest of the 
surveying party arrived and the coat and satchel, which 
the guides had put in the shelter house that stands here, 
found owners. We crossed Sharp Lake, made a short 
portage to and crossed Mud Lake, camping for the night 
on the end of the portage from Mud Lake to the Montreal 
River. By seven o'clock the next morning we had crossed 
the portage and were ready to start up the river. 
We were traveling in one large birchbark canoe, 16 
feet long, with a 37-inch beam. It had never been used 
and weighed about 65 pounds when we started and 100 
pounds at the end of the trip. One guide would carry the 
canoe over the portage and the other one, making two 
trips, all the baggage, which weighed 350 pounds. 
The shores of the Montreal for some distance were 
high bluffs, and one especially high point on our left is 
called Huckleberry Hill. All along this part of the river 
were beds of the most exquisitely colored moss. The 
dark maroon, which was a rich wine color in the sunlight, 
blended into the faintest, most delicate of yellows and 
greens. Nature, when furnishing her kingdom, had, with 
lavish hand, spread a carpet for her feet that exceeded, 
in texture and color, the far-famed weaves of the Orient. 
We had paddled through two or three short rapids and 
gone some distance up the river when we came to the 
first portage, which is quite short. Above the.se falls are 
beaver meadows, where the shores were full of moose 
tracks. On the second portage there is a good camp 
ground and we stopped here for dinner. After dinner the 
guides ran a hot skillet handle over the pitch on the 
seams of the canoe, for it was leaking in a dozen places. 
Our canoe was just new, but I believe that is not a 
recommendation for a birch bark. 
Birch bark suitable for making canoes has become very 
scarce in this region. Mr. Cobbold told us that the In- 
dian who made his canoes had only succeeded in getting 
enough for four the past season. As we were about ready 
to push off, the surveying party we had left on Sharp 
Lake the afternoon before crossed the portage and began 
preparations for dinner. The chief engineer was very 
courteous, offering to render any assistance, and giving us 
some valuable information regarding the country north of 
this. 
We were now in a part of the river known as Bay 
Lake, which is very pretty, and when we came to Partage 
Bay w-e could look over great stretches of open water to 
the blue hills away off in the distance. Just before we 
reached Pork Rapids we crossed a bay to visit an Indian 
named Joe Watta, who was camped in a red pine grove. 
He had two or three tents but no house. There were 
three rabbit skin blankets hanging out. One of them was 
new and the fur, which is whiter than on our rabbits, 
makes a very handsome gray fur blanket that is soft, light 
and very warm. The blankets sell for $15. A tanned 
moose hide, with two bullet holes in it, had been hung up 
to dry. It was a lovely shade of yellow and very soft 
and pliable. The moose meat was hanging on the drying 
rack over a smouldering fire, but the flies had been there 
before us, so we did not buy any. In the garden were 
cucumbers, pumpkins, potatoes, beans, onions, corn and 
rutabagas. Vegetables grow well here, for, while the 
season is short, it is warm and the soil is very fertile. 
We made a short portage around Pork Rapids, and 
when we launched our canoe again were in the forest 
reserve. For some distance the river is broad with low 
shores fringed with reeds and covered with hemlock, 
maple, poplar and an occasional cedar, while the hills in 
the distance are covered with pine. The frost had painted 
the poplars yellow and touched the maples with red, add- 
ing much to the beauty of the river. About five o'clock 
we landed on Red Pine Point at the head of a bay just 
below the narrows, where the river makes a sharp bend. 
We camped in a grove of red pine trees, magnificent speci- 
mens, many of them a hundred feet high, growing tall and 
straight, with no limbs except a clump at the top. We 
were sheltered by a hill back of our camp and had a pretty 
view across the bay and down the river. 
Taking our rods and fly book, we went to the narrows 
to try our luck while the guides put the tents in shape for 
the night and cooked supper. The fish were not hungry, 
but we were, and gladly went to supper when the guides 
called. Some time in the night we were wakened by the 
cry of an owl. I thought it was a pack of wolves, for 
I had never heard an owl make a noise like that before. 
There was a first cry that sounded quite near, followed 
by a peculiar hooting that sounded some distance away. 
The next morning was very cloudy, and as it was Sun- 
day we did not move camp. The Doctor and Sam went 
cut and caught a fish for breakfast, and Sam baked some 
corn cakes that were not hard to eat, but I never cared 
to count the number that disappeared off my plate. 
After applying hot skillet handles to the bottom of the 
canoe, we took our storm coats, camera, two tin cups and 
the gun and went up the river. Above the narrows the 
river widens until, near the mouth of the Mattawapika 
River, it is almost a lake and contains great beds of 
rushes and wild rice. We had expected to get a duck here, 
but they were so wild we could not get close enough for a 
shot. Jamie Mowett, a Scotchman that used to be in 
the employ of the Hudson Bay Company, is married to an 
Indian woman and lives at the head of this bay. He has 
a comfortable log house, but his garden was not as good 
as the Indian's we had seen the day before. It was still 
early, so we bought a loaf of bread, a jar of huckleberry 
jam and a quart of milk and continued on our way up the 
river in the hope of getting a duck. We paddled through 
marshes and beds of wild rice, but did not get a shot at a 
duck, and about one o'clock went ashore for dinner. Sam 
had a small hunting knife and we cut the bread with it, 
but the blade \vas too narrow to be of much use getting 
jam out of a jar. Bob cut two notches, one above the 
other, in a small poplar, split off the piece between and 
made two nice little paddles that brought out the jam. 
We ate all the jam, nearly all the bread and drank all the 
milk. There were high bush cranberries growing around 
us and we gathered about a quart and Sam found some 
black currants and put with them. We were at least six 
miles from camp, with a stiff head wind and an occasional 
shower, so we gave up the ducks and returned. 
We cooked our cranberries in lots of water, strained 
thern through a piece of clean muslin, sweetened the juice, 
put it on the fire again, and in a few minutes had our jar 
full of jelly, which proved to be delicious; the handful of 
currants had greatly improved the flavor. 
The wind had been increasing all evening, and as we sat 
by the fire I kept watching the tops of the big pine trees 
swaying back and forth till one of the guides, thinking 
I was afraid, said there was no danger as long as the 
wind confined in that direction. It commenced to rain, 
and the guides covered the provisions over carefully with 
the tarpaulin and we went to bed. About eleven o'clock 
Sam called us and said he did not like the conditions of 
the weather; he was afraid we were going to have a 
storm. The wind had changed and was very high, and 
the clouds had a stormy look. The guides thought we 
had better move across the bay to a clearing where an 
Indian, Petin Albany, lived. _ We soon had our shoes on 
and I gathered up my hairpins out of the crown of my 
hat, tied them in my handkerchief, and we were ready to 
start. The canoe was launched, and taking our pine bed, 
blankets and tent we paddled across the bay. It was a 
good deal of a disappointment to be blown out of such a 
warm, comfortable bed into the cold at twelve o'clock at 
night. The night was dark, the sky very stormy looking 
and the wind high enough to make things more than in- 
teresting. I thought we would surely be blown on the 
rocks before we could find the Indian's landing, but after 
paddling along the shore a couple of times we found a 
tiny dock. 
The canoe was lifted ashore and we went up to the 
Indian's house but he was away and the door fastened on 
the outside with a padlock. Our tent was soon up and 
the bed made, then the guides, wrapping up in their 
blankets, crept under the canoe and we heard Bob say: 
"I wonder what we did with the jelly?" 
The wind had been increasing and was now blowing 
very hard, but we were safe and slept well. We had a 
7x7 "A" tent, and it was almost impossible to put it up 
so the wind could not blow under. The best tent for such 
a trip is a 7x8 with an 18-inch wall, and when put up 
there should be 6 inches on the ground, leaving a 12-inch 
wall. The six inches on the ground is drawn in under 
the tent and the bed is made on this, thus shutting out the 
cold wind. 
The blow was over in the morning, and the pine trees 
were all standing. The guides were inclined to apologize, 
but we concluded that guides who would go to that much 
trouble for the sake of protecting tourists were worth 
having. After an early breakfast we loaded the canoe 
and were soon at the Mattawapika Falls, which are very 
wild and picturesque. The water falls over in three 
divisions, or falls, which are separated by well wooded 
islands. We were just on the edge of the Laurentian 
formation and the ragged cliffs were of a slaty rock while 
ihe river bed was full of boulders, many of them weighing 
hundreds of tons. For some distance above the falls the 
high bluffs are very rugged. There is a copper mine on 
the right shore, but it is too far from the railroad to be 
profitable. 
Coming through a narrows into a wide bay full of 
rushes and wild rice, we saw a number of muskrat 
houses and a big flock of ducks. Landing on a cranberry 
swamp we gathered low bush cranberries, or the berry of 
commerce. On the sandy beach where we landed we saw 
fresh tracks of a wolf following a deer. The side trijps 
on which the guides took us for berries, ducks, or fish, or 
up some little hidden creek, or to see a pretty fall, or to 
the top of a hill where we could get a wonderful viev/, 
were quite a rest, and added much to the interest of our 
cruise. When we reached Mattawapika Lake we landed 
on an island, made tea and ate a lunch. Near the foot of 
the lake we went ashore on a sandy beach to explore what 
seemed a lake lying some distance back from the bay, but 
proved to be an arm of the bay that could be reached 
through a narrow outlet some distance further down. On 
the beach we found moccasin and moose tracks. Early in 
the afternoon we passed through the Obisaga Narrows, 
and were in Lady Evelyn Lake, with its cold, sparkling 
blue water and its beautifully wooded islands. The day 
was perfect, the sky a clear, bright blue with here and 
there an island of fleecy white clouds. The water was 
rough from the wind the night before, which added to the 
exhilaration and made the canoe seem a thing of life as it 
bounded over the waves. 
On our right, in the distance, was the house where one 
of the fire marshals lived ; in front was water and islands 
and pine trees ; on our left was water and islands and 
pine trees, and beyond them rose the Maple Mountains, 
a broken line of deep, intense blue against a blue sky. 
