1142 
FOREST AND STREAM 
THE VANISHING LAST FRONTIER 
MOOSE FACTORY, NOW A CENTER OF IMPORTANCE, IS ASSUM¬ 
ING THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ORDINARY VILLAGE 
By R. J. Fraser. 
Less Than Two Hundred Miles to “the Line”, the Railroad and Civilization. 
L ooking at the map 
of Canada one sees in 
the lower left-hand 
corner of James Bay the 
name Moose Factory, one 
of the Hudson’s Bay Com¬ 
pany’s trading posts. Find¬ 
ing it thus situated, on the 
shores of that ice-laden 
sea, there is conjured to the 
mind a picture of a group 
of stockaded buildings 
closely shrouded by the 
primeval forests, storm- 
ridden and dread. Rough, 
bearded trappers, fur-clad 
and armed with long rifles, 
busy themselves with prepa¬ 
rations for journeys farther 
into the wilds, whilst buck¬ 
skin-clothed Indians slouch 
about the borders of the 
post. Or, if one dwells on 
a summer scene he may see 
birchbarks with wild-look¬ 
ing, long-haired natives 
driving them through frothing rapids to a land¬ 
ing on the beach below the fort, where the tents 
of the hunters are grouped together. All is 
strange and outlandish and foreign to the home¬ 
land in the south. 
But what delusions would be found could one 
be suddenly transported to the place in mind 
without passing through the succeeding stages 
of river travel, camp life and contact with the 
people on the way, educative steps which would 
prepare the visitor for the surprise awaiting him. 
An aeroplane carrying one from the settle¬ 
ments at the end of steel over night to Moose 
Factory would land him in the midst of a little 
village such as might find anywhere near home. 
For such is this interesting old trading post of 
the north. 
It has its store, stocked far better than many 
of the “general” stores in fair-sized towns; its 
church and school, farm land and vegetable 
gardens. Seldom is a birchbark seen, but drawn 
up on the river bank numerous Peterboros lie 
and at a wharf in summer time is moored a 
steamer, when not on its cruises to the other 
posts about the bay. Unkempt Indians, unattrac¬ 
tive in appearance, slow of movement and spar¬ 
ing of speech, and timid squaws, their black locks 
hidden by shawls whose tartans represent a dozen 
different clans; gaunt, quarrelsome wolf-dogs and 
dark-skinned children add the necessary touches 
of local color to remind one that this is the 
country of the Hudson Bay. 
Only the dearth of news and the keen inter¬ 
est shown by all in the stranger brings home to 
one the remembrance that there lie between him 
and the settlements on the southern side of the 
Height of Land miles and miles of river, woods 
and muskeg unmarked by civilization’s hand. 
All these centuries the fur posts grew and 
prospered. Artisans, smiths, coopers, tinkers 
and tailors were brought out to the country and 
our own particular trading post earned for itself 
the name it has since retained, Moose Factory. 
Rough furniture and homespun clothing, leather 
boots, metal utensils and tools suited to the re¬ 
quirements of the country were made at Moose. 
The old buildings erected for the purpose are 
still in evidence, many of them in very good 
repair. Besides becoming the manufacturing 
center of the district it was also the port and 
distributing point of all the goods that came by 
ship. Up the Moose and Missanaibi Rivers, clear 
through to Michipicoten on Lake Superior, was 
the route to the great fresh water seas. Before 
the days of a transcontinental railroad or a ship 
canal many a ton of freight that was landed at 
Moose went west by the Michipicoten route, on 
the backs of tireless halfbreed packers or in the 
deep-bellied freight canoes. 
With the building of the Canadian Pacific 
Railway the old route for freight and mail from 
Michipicoten was abandoned. Missanaibi station 
became the new starting point on the downriver 
trip for the mail packet, the year inspector, and 
the clerk who had spent his furlough “down in 
Canada.” When a Moose Factory man spoke of 
“the line” and dwelt longingly on the words you 
knew he meant the railway crossing at Missanaibi. 
With the construction of the National Trans¬ 
continental the line has become that point where 
the latest steel bridges the Abittibi, only one 
hundred and eighty miles from the Post. The 
junction of that line with the Temiscamingue 
and Northern Ontario at Cochrane has brought 
the James Bay region within comparatively easy 
reach. 
Moose Factory is now the district headquarters 
for the H. B. C. and one of the most important 
posts of the country. The district manager has 
under his jurisdiction fifteen posts and sub-posts. 
To supply these is a small steamer, the “Inenew,” 
which is the Cree word for “The Indian.” From 
June to October it runs about the bay from 
depot to outlying forts and in wintertime rests 
in a snug bed in the woods of the river bank, 
safe from the ice cakes that are borne down the 
spring torrents of the Moose. In winter connec¬ 
tion is had with dependent posts by dog teams. 
A mission provides an 
orphanage for over fifty 
Indian children and has a 
hospital attached. In earlier 
years the company kept a 
resident doctor at the post, 
but in recent years the mis¬ 
sionary or the factor have 
been called upon to fill the 
gap. If a patient can sur¬ 
vive the long winter months 
of waiting he receives pro¬ 
fessional treatment from 
the government doctor who 
once a year travels from 
the line with the Indian 
treaty agent’s party. In 
summertime the missionary. 
Rev. Mr. Haythornthwaite, 
with an assistant, conducts 
a school and the younger 
members of the hunters’ 
families who camp about 
the post are taught to read 
and write. In the boat shed 
one finds the veteran boat- 
builder and his sons at work on a “York,” or 
river boat, intended for inland use or for one of 
the other posts. At different times small fifteen- 
ton schooners have been built and launched here 
and a fleet of these craft supplement the work 
of the steamer in the distribution of supplies. 
Draught oxen are seen hauling firewood and the 
freight from the landing to the depot; in the 
meadows one finds cattle raised from stock 
brought years ago from England. The hay¬ 
ing is done by Indian labor, slow but inexpensive, 
for in all probabilities the natives seen handling 
the hay forks are in this way being made to pay 
for trapping advances, or “debt,” as it is called— 
it is really credit—given to them the previous 
winter. 
Little of the picturesqueness of the days of the 
early fur trade as portrayed by the pen of Stew¬ 
art Edward White and others remains at Moose, 
though not so many miles away, up the Mis¬ 
sanaibi River, can yet be traced the site of Con¬ 
jurer’s House, the scene of one of the former 
writer’s most interesting northern tales. The 
Chief Factor is now known as the Manager and 
he and his staff of traders and clerks no longer 
gather about the common board, where we were 
wont to believe huge roasts of venison and bear 
were daily consumed. 
Each has now his own house and “white man’s 
grub” is the common fare. Game is not as 
plentiful as of yore and the Indian hunter de¬ 
mands good payment for his kill. 
Flanking the flagstaff on the river bank are 
two old bronz“ cannon, relics of the days when 
Moose was a fort. 
Though many of the picturesque features have 
gone from Moose this, at least, remains: The 
traveler, be his mission what it may, tourist, 
hunter, even opposition trader, receives a wel¬ 
come the remembrance of which he carries with 
him evermore. The old Scotch hospitality, far- 
famed throughout the north, has descended from 
Highland fathers to their Canadian sons, un¬ 
affected by time or the new regime. 
