A chorus of wailing, and we knew that the
Indians had that morning abandoned their dogs there. The wailing
continued, then we saw a tiny black speck coming from the far
shore. When it was half-way across the ice-cold bay we could hear
the gasps of a tired swimmer. He got along fairly, dodging the cakes
of ice, until within about 200 yards, when his course was barred
by a long, thin, drifting floe. He tried to climb on it, but was
too weak, then he raised his voice in melancholy howls of despair.
I could not get to him, but he plucked up heart at length, and
feebly paddling went around till he found an opening, swam through
and came on, the slowest dog swimmer I ever saw. At last he struck
bottom and crawled out. But he was too weak and ill to eat the meat
that I had ready prepared for him. We left him with food for many
days and sailed away.
Another of the dogs that tried to follow him across was lost in the
ice; we heard his miserable wailing moans as he was carried away,
but could not help him. My Indians thought nothing of it and were
amused at my solicitude.
A couple of hours later we landed on the rugged east coast to study
our course through the ice. At once., we were met by four dogs that
trotted along the shore to where we landed. They did not seem very
gaunt; one, an old yellow female, carried something in her mouth;
this she never laid down, and growled savagely when any of the others
came near. It proved to be the blood-stained leg of a new-killed
dog, yellow like herself.
As we pulled out a big black-and-white fellow looked at us
wistfully from a rocky ledge; memories of Bingo, whom he resembled
not a little, touched me. I threw him a large piece of dried meat.
He ate it, but not ravenously. He seemed in need, not of food, but
of company.
A few miles farther on we again landed to study the lake; as we
came near we saw the dogs, not four but six, now racing to meet
us. I said to Preble: "It seems to me it would be the part of mercy
to shoot them all." He answered: "They are worth nothing now, but
you shoot one and its value would at once jump up to one hundred
dollars. Every one knows everything that is done in this country.
You would have six hundred dollars' damages to pay when you got
back to Fort Resolution."
I got out our stock of fresh fish. The Indians, seeing my purpose,
said: "Throw it in the water and see them dive." I did so and found
that they would dive into several feet of water and bring up the
fish without fail. The yellow female was not here, so I suppose
she had stayed to finish her bone.
When we came away, heading for the open lake, the dogs followed us
as far as they could, then gathering on a flat rock, the end of a
long point, they sat down, some with their backs to us; all raised
their muzzles and howled to the sky a heart-rending dirge.
I was thankful to lose them in the distance.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE VOYAGE ACROSS THE LAKE
Hitherto I have endeavoured to group my observations on each
subject; I shall now for a change give part of the voyage across
Great Slave Lake much, as it appears in my journal.
"July 16, 1907. - Left Fort Resolution at 9.40 A. M. in the York boat
manned by 7 Indians and Billy Loutit, besides Preble and myself, 10
in all; ready with mast and sail for fair wind, but also provided
with heavy 16-foot oars for head-winds and calm. Harding says we
should make Pike's Portage in 3 or 4 days.
"Reached Moose Island at 11.30 chiefly by rowing; camped. A large
dog appeared on the bank. Freesay recognised it as his and went
ashore with a club. We heard the dog yelping. Freesay came back
saying: 'He'll go home now.'
"At 1.30 went on but stopped an unnecessary half-hour at a saw-mill
getting plank for seats. Reached the Big, or Main, River at 4.10;
stopped for tea again till 4.50, then rowed up the river till 5.40;
rested 15 minutes, rowed till 6.30; rested 15 minutes, rowed till
7; then got into the down current of the north branch or mouth of
the Slave; down then we drifted till 8, then landed and made another
meal, the fourth to-day, and went on drifting at 8.30.
"At 9.30 we heard a Ruffed Grouse drumming, the last of the season,
also a Bittern pumping, some Cranes trumpeting, and a Wood Frog
croaking. Snipe were still whirring in the sky. Saw Common Tern.
"At 10.15, still light, we camped for the night and made another
meal. The Indians went out and shot 2 Muskrats, making 7 the total
of these I have seen in the country. This is the very lowest ebb.
Why are they so scarce? Their low epoch agrees with that of the
Rabbits.
"July 17. - Rose at 6 (it should have been 4, but the Indians would
not rouse); sailed north through the marsh with a light east breeze.
At noon this changed to a strong wind blowing from the north, as it
has done with little variation ever since I came to the country. These
Indians know little of handling a boat and resent any suggestion.
They maintain their right, to row or rest, as they please, and land
when and where they think best.
