Forest and Stream 
Terms, $3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy, 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1911. 
. VOL. LXXVII.— No 24 
i No. 127 Franklin St., New York. 
SUMMER CAMP ON THE LAKE SHORE. 
YORK BOATS DRAWN UP FOR THE WINTER ON MOSSY PORTAGE. 
Wilderness Travel —The York Boat 
T HE many posts of the great Hudson Bay 
Company are scattered throughout the 
wilderness of Canada. Each has its supply 
of trading goods to freight into the wilds and 
its contribution of peltry to be sent out to join 
other consignments en route to London. 
The question of transportation is an old one 
with the company and has been solved to its 
satisfaction, for the present, at least. The bulk 
of the season’s trading outfit is transported by 
the cumbersome York boat; small consignments 
of goods in fall and spring, the mail and occas¬ 
ional shipments of valuable or fragile articles 
are shipped by canoe; in winter, dispatches, mail 
and goods to supply shortages are carried by 
dog train. 
It must be admitted that these are antiquated 
methods of transportation, and in the case of 
the York boat, the method is an expensive one 
and involves considerable capital to make it a 
success. However, no one at present seems able 
to promote, or to even suggest, more efficient 
systems of transportation. Until the advent of 
railways and lake and river steamboats these 
primitive methods will obtain. 
In the course of my labors at Oxford House 
in the great Hudson Bay region it became neces¬ 
sary to reach God’s Lake post at a distance of 
about one hundred miles. The company’s brigade 
By REV. ARTHUR SANTMIER 
of York boats was about to make this trip, and 
owing to the scarcity of canoemen at that time 
I secured passage on the boats. I appreciated 
also the opportunity thus afforded for observing 
this method of transportation at close range. 
The York boat is a cumbersome affair. It is 
built of heavy timbers with strong bows or ribs 
and pointed bow and stern. At the stern is 
fastened a large iron ring through which passes 
the long steering oar of the guide. A boat of 
this kind weighs a ton or more, and within its 
capacious hold may be placed from eighty to 
one hundred and twenty “pieces” with a weight 
of from four to six tons, a “piece” weighing 
about one hundred pounds. 
A crew of nine men is the usual complement 
of a York boat. If there are no portages to 
cross, six or seven men will suffice or even four 
in an emergency, while ten men to a boat are re¬ 
quired on the difficult route between Beren’s 
River and Little Grand Rapids eastward from 
Lake Winnipeg, owing to the numerous rapids 
and difficult portages. 
Several boats traveling together make up a 
brigade, and one man is employed as a guide. 
This is an important post, for the guide is held 
responsible for the safe discharge of the cargoes 
as well as the proper handling of his boats. 
This to an Indian is the very acme of earthly 
ambition. Many years elapse ’ere the aspiring 
young man becomes a guide, for both skill and 
experience are required, as well as trustworthi¬ 
ness to qualify one for this post. 
On Wednesday, Sept. 7, I embarked in the 
guide’s boat. As it was heavily loaded, and the 
oarsmen with their unwieldy oars required much 
room for action, there remained little space for 
the passenger. At the stern of the craft a small 
platform lifts the steersman to near the level of 
the rowers’ heads. Upon this partial deck he 
stands while using the long steering oar. On 
this platform near his- feet I bestowed myself in 
as small a space as was possible. I was thus en¬ 
abled to study the faces of the men, as well as 
to enjoy a practically uninterrupted view of the 
reaches ahead. 
Hard toil, that. The oars were plied in unison, 
and at each and every stroke the rower stood up, 
braced one foot against a bale or bundle, and 
pulled backward with all his strength, seating 
himself at the same time. In ordinary rowing 
from twenty to thirty strokes to the minute were 
made, but in sudden bursts of speed or in as¬ 
cending rapids, they double the number of strokes 
per minute. About every two miles the crews 
rested for a few minutes to regain their breath. 
The guide’s cry recalled them to duty. 
Our start was inauspicious. As we pushed off 
