At noon we landed at the Otter Portage where the river ran with great
velocity for half a mile among large stones. Having carried across the
principal part of the cargo the people attempted to track the canoes
along the edge of the rapid. With the first they succeeded but the other,
in which were the foreman and steersman, was overset and swept away by
the current. An account of this misfortune was speedily conveyed to the
upper end of the portage and the men launched the remaining canoe into
the rapid, though wholly unacquainted with the dangers of it. The descent
was quickly accomplished and they perceived the bottom of the lost canoe
above water in a little bay whither it had been whirled by the eddy. One
man had reached the bank but no traces could be found of the foreman
Louis Saint Jean. We saved the canoe out of which two guns and a case of
preserved meats had been thrown into the rapid.* So early a disaster
deeply affected the spirits of the Canadians, and their natural vivacity
gave way to melancholy forebodings while they erected a wooden cross in
the rocks near the spot where their companion perished.
(*Footnote. Mr. Hood himself was the first to leap into the canoe and
incite the men to follow him and shoot the rapid to save the lives of
their companions. Dr. Richardson's Journal.)
The loss of this man's services and the necessity of procuring a guide
determined us to wait for the arrival of the North-West Company's people
from Fort Chipewyan and we encamped accordingly. The canoe was much
shattered but, as the gunwales were not broken, we easily repaired it. In
the evening a North-West canoe arrived with two of the partners. They
gave us an account of Mr. Franklin's proceedings and referred us to the
brigade following them for a guide.
During the 20th it rained heavily and we passed the day in anxious
suspense confined to our tents. A black bear came to the bank on the
opposite side of the river and, on seeing us, glided behind the trees.
Late on the 21st Mr. Robertson of the Hudson's Bay Company arrived and
furnished us with a guide, but desired that he might be exchanged when we
met the northern canoes. We took advantage of the remainder of the day to
cross the next portage which was three-fourths of a mile in length.
On the 22nd we crossed three small portages and encamped at the fourth.
At one of them we passed some of the Hudson's Bay Company's canoes and
our application to them was unsuccessful. We began to suspect that Isle a
la Crosse was the nearest place at which we might hope for assistance.
However on the morning of the 23rd, as we were about to embark, we
encountered the last brigades of canoes belonging to both the Companies
and obtained a guide and foreman from them. Thus completely equipped we
entered the Black Bear Island Lake, the navigation of which requires a
very experienced pilot. Its length is twenty-two miles and its breadth
varies from three to five, yet it is so choked with islands that no
channel is to be found through it exceeding a mile in breadth. At sunset
we landed and encamped on an island, and at six A.M. on the 24th left the
lake and crossed three portages into another which has probably several
communications with the last, as that by which we passed is too narrow to
convey the whole body of the Missinippi. At one of these portages called
the Pin Portage is a rapid about ten yards in length with a descent of
ten or twelve feet and beset with rocks. Light canoes sometimes venture
down this fatal gulf to avoid the portage, unappalled by the warning
crosses which overhang the brink, the mournful records of former
failures.
The Hudson's Bay Company's people whom we passed on the 23rd going to the
rock house with their furs were badly provided with food, of which we saw
distressing proofs at every portage behind them. They had stripped the
birch trees of their rind to procure the soft pulpy vessels in contact
with the wood which are sweet but very insufficient to satisfy a craving
appetite.
The lake to the westward of the Pin Portage is called Sandfly Lake; it is
seven miles long and a wide channel connects it with the Serpent Lake,
the extent of which to the southward we could not discern. There is
nothing remarkable in this chain of lakes except their shapes, being
rocky basins filled by the waters of the Missinippi, insulating the massy
eminences and meandering with almost imperceptible current between them.
From the Serpent to the Sandy Lake it is again confined in a narrow space
by the approach of its winding banks, and on the 26th we were some hours
employed in traversing a series of shallow rapids where it was necessary
to lighten the canoes. Having missed the path through the woods we walked
two miles in the water upon sharp stones, from which some of us were
incessantly slipping into deep holes and floundering in vain for footing
at the bottom, a scene highly diverting notwithstanding our fatigue. We
were detained in Sandy Lake till one P.M. by a strong gale when, the wind
becoming moderate, we crossed five miles to the mouth of the river and at
four P.M. left the main branch of it and entered a little rivulet called
the Grassy River, running through an extensive reedy swamp. It is the
nest of innumerable ducks which rear their young among the long rushes in
security from beasts of prey.
