590 
FOREST AND STREAM 
May II, 1912 
is wonderfully effective, preventing all fish from 
going up the river and catching all the fish that 
are going down. Large numbers of suckers, 
pickerel and wall-eyed pike were seen in this 
trap, and many lay upon the water and along the 
shore in a state of decomposition. 
Wolf River is about nine miles in length and 
is very narrow and very crooked, flowing through 
a wilderness of swamps and dry sticks. Pad¬ 
dling rapidly through this river, we emerged 
upon a lake three or four miles in diameter, 
which was still covered heavily with ice. By 
skirting the shore, the mouth of another river 
was reached, the Wolverine, similar to the Wolf, 
draining a similar country, but more crooked and 
in its upper courses so shallow as to greatly 
hinder navigation, even in empty canoes. Like 
the Wolf, the Wolverine ends its nine or ten 
mile course in a stony rapid which necessitated 
a portage. We camped upon this portage the 
second night. Rabbits were plentiful and the 
rapids teeming with suckers attempting to force 
a passage to the river above. At this camp I 
made an attempt to dry my clothing and the 
single blanket, but the night proved too short, 
as it was ten oclock before we ate our supper. 
Early in the morning we passed through the 
Wolverine with nothing of importance to break 
the monotony of the very crooked river, and at 
9 o’clock reached Mossy Lake, which is about 
ten miles long. It was also covered with ice 
and we made a wide detour. 
We now reached the most difficult part of our 
journey, the dreaded Mossy Portage. Albert and 
I upon reaching this portage bargained with one 
of the company’s canoemen to portage our canoe 
while we assisted in carrying their load of 
freight. Staggering along under the weight of 
eighty pounds of soap and sundries, I finally 
managed to make the crossing in a very be¬ 
draggled and worn-out condition. After the 
crossing of this cruel swamp we ate a meal upon 
the shores of God's Lake and imbibed new cour¬ 
age with the draughts of tea. The portage was 
much better for carrying than during the pre¬ 
ceding year, but much more difficult transporting 
the canoes. Usually for nearly two-thirds of 
its length the portage was traversed by a tiny 
stream of water which was made to float the 
canoes in wet seasons, but upon this occasion 
the streamlet was dry and the canoes had to be 
portaged the entire distance of two miles, but 
the drier walking almost atoned for this extra 
work and certainly made the crossing much 
speedier. 
God’s Lake was solid with ice and we were 
obliged to follow the indented shores through 
a narrow canal of shallow water. When with¬ 
in about eight miles of God’s Lake Post, a large 
bay four or five miles in width had to be crossed. 
We discovered an ice crack that apparently ex¬ 
tended clear across the bay, and after much de¬ 
liberation decided to follow this crack rather 
than to go around, a distance of ten or fifteen 
miles. Accordingly, we paddled down the ever- 
narrowing channel until within a few hundred 
yards of open water on the other side, when 
the crack suddenly terminated. We looked fool¬ 
ishly at one another for a moment, but the 
Northern trapper is full of expedients and never 
hesitates long. So without further parley we 
Jumped on to the quaking ice, carried our loads 
and canoes across, despite one or two plunges 
through the rotten ice and re-embarked in open 
water on the other side. To carry a heavy load 
over ice that is liable to drop one into a cold 
watery grave forty feet deep is a bit risky aiid 
somewhat nerve-trying. 
We reached the Mission in the evening at 8 
o’clock and were warmly welcomed by the ex¬ 
pectant bridegroom, the Indian missionary. A 
supper of baked or roasted whitefish done to a 
turn before an open fire, following a luxurious 
bath in the frying-pan, and I curled up in my 
rabbit skin robe and lay down upon the floor to 
sleep. 
On Monday at 10 o’clock the important cere¬ 
mony took place. The groom, leading his blush¬ 
ing bride, was followed by bridesmaid and 
groomsman, and the church was soon filled with 
natives, all attired in holiday costumes of vari¬ 
ous styles, shapes and colors as well as of vari¬ 
ous ages and periods of antiquity. I read the 
service in English and asked the questions in 
Cree. Upon being pronounced man and wife, 
the groom gallantly kissed the bride and his ex¬ 
ample was followed by many others present; in 
fact, the kissing became general and was hard 
to stop. After adjourning to the open air sev¬ 
eral salutes were fired from a number of ancient 
muzzleloading shotguns and muskets. As I had 
an automatic shotgun with me at the time, I was 
requested to assist in the saluting. I responded 
with five almost simultaneous shots that as¬ 
tounded them beyond all reason. After consider¬ 
able discussion, and after the more timid ones 
had been quieted, I was asked to kindly repeat 
the shooting, which I did, to their infinite amuse¬ 
ment. The entire congregation was then photo¬ 
graphed, after which the bridal party requested 
me to photograph them. As the groom insisted 
upon the exposure being made in the face of 
the sun, it was of course a failure, although it 
never dawned upon those foggy intellects that 
the sun had anything to do with it. 
Reluctantly I bade farewell to the Lake of the 
Great Spirit, for I loved its quiet bays, its forest- 
clad islands and its dusky inhabitants. On Tues¬ 
day morning at about 3 o’clock we started upon 
the return trip, with the other canoes well in 
advance. The ice had drifted into the shore at 
one point and we were obliged to follow ice 
cracks well out on the lake until Mossy Portage 
was reached and we caught up to the canoes. 
Portaging the canoes was very difficult work, as 
a high wind was blowing and the canoes, carried 
in an inverted position on the shoulders, pre¬ 
sented a large surface to the wind and so could 
not be kept in the proper position for carrying. 
In spite of difficulties and heavy loads we suc¬ 
cessfully crossed by noon and ate dinner on an 
island in Mossy Lake. 
Nearly all the lakes were now free from pack 
ice and the drift ice was easily avoided, and so 
by keeping a straight course, we were able to 
reduce the former one hundred miles to about 
eighty-five in returning. Several portages were 
made to cut off bends in the crooked rivers and 
at night we camped at the rapid at the foot of 
Wolf River within sight of Knee Lake. 
During the night a shower of rain fell and 
Wednesday dawned dull and cold. Although 
having slept but little owing to the brief period 
of darkness and the saturated condition of our 
blankets, we were astir at two and off at three 
in the morning and made the twenty miles on 
Knee Lake by 10 o’clock, stopping once for a 
drink of tea. Albert and I reached the river 
first, but at Trout Falls the other canoes forged 
ahead and left us for a space while ascending 
the rapids. Ascending the river against a stormy 
head wind, we found was a difficult task, but we 
arrived at the lake back of Oxford House with 
the other canoes and landed there owing to the 
heavy wind. Our loads were portaged across to 
the mission about one mile distant. Thus we 
had accomplished the return trip in less than 
two days. 
During this journey we were constantly wet 
and cold, with a wet blanket for covering and 
the wet ground for a bed. Considering this it 
is no wonder that severe suffering followed. 
This canoeing amid great exposure and danger, 
doing a full share of paddling, portaging and 
camp work, is more romantic when described 
upon paper than when experienced as a common 
part of life amid ice floes, rapids and stormy 
weather. 
This is but one of numerous yearly canoe trips 
and gives but a faint idea of a regular method 
of travel in the Northern wilderness. 
THE TOP RAIL. 
Were you ever held up “at the point of a 
pistol?” If so, did the yawning muzzle—as it 
appeared at the time—resolve itself into a point, 
or did it resemble more closely the business end 
of a battleship’s bowchaser? Why the “point” 
of the average reporter, anyway? Perhaps the 
expression came down from the days when men 
carried swords or muskets with bayonets, but as 
used now it means no more than that other favo¬ 
rite reportorial expression in reference to re¬ 
volvers “still smoking” long after they have been 
fired. 
There is about as much sense in remarks of 
this kind as in Paddy’s attempt to smoke a pipe¬ 
ful of glass. “Bedad,” said he, “they tould me 
if I’d shmoke a piece of glass I cud see the 
eclipse.” 
* * * 
Robert S. Lemmon contributes the following, 
which he says strikes him as rather good, and 
perhaps it touches a new note in the literature 
of trespass signs: 
A ruralist in Missouri posted his lands, the 
notices reading as follows: 
“Notis—Trespaser will be persekuted to the full 
exten of 2 mean mungrel dogs wich ain’t never 
ben overly soshibil with strangers an’ i dubbelp 
barl shot gun wich ain’t loaded with no sofy 
pillers dam if I ain’t tire of this hel-raisin’ on 
my property.” 
* * * 
Someone persuaded Mike to try a few casts 
with a dry fly for the trout that would not take 
his gob-of-worms lure. “But,” said he, “the trouts 
wud not' let the bug sink at all at all, an ivery 
toime it struck the wather I had t’ jerk it away 
fer t’ prevint three or fure iv thim from fightin’ 
over it.” Grizzly King. 
