Notes on Esquimaux Bay and surrounding country

 

By William H.A. Davies

 

[Originally published by the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec in Transactions, Original Series, Vol. 4, No. 1 (1855)]

 

[Read, 19th February, 1842.]

 

The Great Bay of Esquimaux, or as it is more generally called, Esquimaux Bay, is a large inlet, on the east coast of Labrador, penetrating into the country in a south-westerly direction. It is situated about 250 miles beyond the Straits of Belleisle; the entrance lying in N. Lat. 54° 23' West Long. 57° 25'.

 

It is by far the largest of the numerous inlets that indent that part of the coast. At its entrance it is upwards of thirty miles in breadth, from thence it decreases, until at the Post of Rigolet, about fifty miles from the sea, it is reduced to about a mile in width, beyond this it again expands, and about 90 miles from the sea, it forms a magnificent salt-water lake of upwards of 20 miles in breadth, and in length fully 30 miles ; at the western extremity of the lake, it again contracts to a narrow width for a short distance, above which it forms another lake about 7 miles wide and 20 long, when the head of the inlet is reached. Its total length may be taken at 150 miles and its mean breadth about 15 miles, exclusive of two large arms that join it in the neighbourhood of Rigolet, the one running to the southeast about 40 miles, and the other having a course nearly parallel to the main bay, and a length of 60 miles—including these arms, the surface covered by its waters may be taken at about 1,700 miles.

 

Many islands lie off the entrance of the bay, they are also very numerous in the bay—they are of all sizes, from the little rock hardly large enough to stand upon, to the large island many miles in extent—they add, in a great degree, to the danger of navigating the bay in foggy weather, for there is generally deep water close alongside of them.

 

The scenery along the shores of the Bay is of the wildest description, high hills are seen in every direction entirely bare of trees, particularly at the entrance where the country partakes in a striking degree of that barrenness which forms such a distinguishing feature of Labrador scenery—this barrenness and ruggedness is, however, only perceived when close to the shores, for when sailing along it, at the distance of from 4 to 6 miles, the rugged features of the landscape are softened by the distance, and the eye is deceived by the green of the moss, so that it requires very little aid from the imagination to suppose that it is a cultivated country that is presented to view, especially as the eye is immediately struck by the total absence of that thick forest which is so characteristic of the shores of America, and the absence of which is generally indicative of the advance of cultivation. A closer proximity to the shore, however, dissolves the illusion, and by the time the foot has pressed it, the conclusion is formed, that a more rugged and barren country it would be difficult to imagine. Such are the scenes presented by the entrance of the Bay; as it is ascended an amelioration is perceived in the landscape by the gradual introduction of trees, first appearing at the bottom of small coves, and then gradually climbing up the sides of the mountains, until on arriving at the Post of Rigolet, the whole country is found covered with timber, small and stunted it is true, but still large enough to hide the ruggedness of the ground. Above the Post of Rigolet and on the shores of the salt-water lake, mentioned above, the scenery becomes very grand; the range of the Mealy Mountains here strikes the shores of the Bay, leaving but a narrow strip of land between the water and their base, from whence they rise 1,400 to 1,500 feet in height, almost perpendicularly, presenting the appearance of an immense wall, the resemblance to which is much increased by the extraordinary evenness of their summit. The Mealy Mountains are a range of mountains whose tops are first perceived about 100 miles to the south of Esquimaux Bay, running nearly parallel to the coast—they strike the shores of the bay, as already observed, near the commencement of the saltwater lake, along which they continue for about 25 miles, they then gradually leave the shore and after some distance, meeting with another range, coming in an opposite direction, they lose a part of their height, and are lost amidst the confused mass of hills that fill the interior of the country. The only level ground of any extent in the neighbourhood of the bay reaches from the head of it to the foot of these mountains.

 

Cartwright, as well as the Moravian Missionaries, state, that these mountains are always

covered with snow, this is not exactly the case, as least, in that part that I am acquainted with—there is an interval of about 15 to 20 days at the latter end of August and first days of September, when they are free from snow except in the deep ravines, where the snow remains constantly. They derive their name I believe, from the patches of snow distributed over their surface during the greatest part of the summer, giving them the appearance of being powdered over with meal. When viewed in winter, in fine weather, at the time’ of sunset, these mountains present scenes of great beauty; and it is difficult for the imagination to conceive anything more beautiful than the tints that their summits assume as they are touched by the last rays of the setting sun, long after he has disappeared from the eye, while every little ravine, every inequality in their surface is chiselled out against the clear cold sky with a precision and vividness that are alike beautiful and wonderful.

 

RIVERS AND LAKES

 

As may be supposed in such an extensive bay, numerous rivers flow into it, but three only are of large size, viz.: The Grand or Hamilton River, the Kenamou, and the Nascapee or North West River—of these the Grand or Hamilton River, flowing in at the head of the bay, is by far the most considerable, both as regards the length of its course and the volume of water it discharges. It is nearly half league in breadth at its entrance gradually decreasing in width for about twenty-five miles from its mouth; it then becomes from one-eighth to one-quarter of a mile wide; from this size it never varies very much as far up as it has been followed. Two hundred miles from its mouth it forces itself through a range of mountains that seems to border the table land of the interior, in a succession of tremendous falls and rapids for nearly 20 miles. These falls were accidentally discovered, in 1839, by a gentleman engaged in exploring a route to Esquimaux Bay from the interior. Above these falls, the river flows with a very smooth and even current ; it has been followed for 100 miles further, where a Post has lately been established—between the falls and the Post it passes through a succession of very large lakes, communicating with one another by short straits—these lakes appear to cover a very considerable part of the table land; they have not yet been explored, and their dimensions are, consequently, not known but from Indian report ; many present a water horizon in different directions as portions of them are crossed. Above the Post, called Fort Nascapee, the river has not yet been explored, but the Indians report that it comes from a long distance to the westward, and runs with a deep and gentle current unobstructed by falls or rapid—it is supposed to come from lakes in the rear of the Seven Islands. If this is the case, and there is every reason to believe it to be so, it developes a curious fact in the formation of that country, viz. : that a large river should flow for so considerable distance on the top of the ridge, if I may so express it, between the head waters of the rivers falling into the St. Lawrence and those falling into the Hudson's Bay and Straits, for they are said, by the Indians, to be quite close to the waters of the Grand River on either side. The course of the river from Fort Nascapee to the place where it forces itself through the mountains is to the southward of east, it then turns to the east, and finally to the north-east, the latter course it pursues until it falls into Esquimaux Bay.

 

The Kenamou River flows in from the south, about 13 miles from the entrance of the Grand River—it is a considerable stream, taking its rise in the country lying between the Gulf of St. Lawrence and Esquimaux Bay; its course is therefore short, and as the lakes from whence it takes its rise, are at a high elevation, it is extremely rapid and full of falls. I had it explored for about 80 miles; in the whole of this distance it was nothing but a succession of rapids. Its banks are mountainous. About 30 miles from its mouth it cuts through the range of the Mealy Mountains.

 

The Nascapee River or North West River is rather a large one, and falls into the Bay on the north side, very nearly opposite to the mouth of the Kenamou River; the distance between the entrances of these two rivers (which is the breadth of the Bay at this place) is 12 miles. About 2 miles from its mouth, it passes through a narrow lake, about 40 miles long, bordered by high mountains ; a little below the head of the lake (called the Grand Lake) the river flows in from the north-east, it keeps this course for about 25 miles, when it bends very considerably and flows from the north, its course from thence to its source is only known at intervals, as in consequence of numerous rapids and falls, the river is left and the route to the interior is pursued through a series of lakes until close to Lake Meshagamou, from whence its waters flow, when the river is again followed as far as that lake. Meshagamou, or the Great Lake, is one of the lakes occupying the table land of the interior—it is of considerable size; it has not however been explored, as yet, by the whites. It is one of the lakes with which the Grand River communicates. Among the largest of the other rivers flowing into Esquimaux Bay, may be mentioned the Goose Brook, the Double Mer River, Moulagan River, the River of Goose Bay; the whole of these rivers, though some art of large size at their entrance, are short and are not navigable for anything larger than a small canoe.

 

The country, in the neighbourhood of Esquimaux Bay, abounds in lake of all sizes and shapes, from the small pond of a few acres in length to the large lake of twelve or fourteen leagues long; this is indeed, the case with the whole of the Labrador coast, but however they may vary as to their sizes and shapes, there is one feature in which they all agree, that is in their shallowness—and this is found to be the case in all the lakes of the Atlantic slope, with the exception to those which communicate directly with the ocean or with some of its bays, these are in general distinguished for their depth. This almost universal shallowness of the lakes is a singular feature, when the nature of their borders is taken into consideration, as they are generally surrounded by hills, which would lead one to look for a corresponding depth in the lake; but, instead of this, some are so shallow, that for miles there is hardly water enough to float a half-loaded canoe. I am informed by my friend John M'Lean, Esq., that this is likewise the case with the lakes lying on the water-shed of Ungava Bay. The lakes, lying on the table-land, are said to be deep.

 

The largest lake, in the immediate neighborhood of Esquimaux Bay, is the Grand Lake, already mentioned—this lake, which communicates by a short strait with the bay, is about 40 miles long, and varies in breadth from one to two miles—it is very deep; so deep indeed, that it rarely freezes before the middle of December, nor does it break up till the middle of June ; it is bordered by high precipices, at the foot of which the ice is constantly kept clear of snow by the violence of the wind, and is so transparent, that the eye can penetrate into the depths below as unobstructed by it as if none was present ; indeed, the illusion is so complete, that I have often caught myself shrinking back with instinctive dread, when about to place my foot I .upon one of those clear spaces, under the momentary apprehension of stepping on open water. The other lakes do not require any particular notice. Before, however, quitting the subject of the lakes I may state the fact, that they are in general, very destitute offish—this may be accounted for, in some degree, by their shallowness—this is not however, the only cause, as even the Grand Lake, although so deep, is almost destitute of them—the large lakes of the interior, with which the Grand River communicates, are however, well supplied.

 

FACE OF THE COUNTRY

 

The face of the country, in the vicinity of Esquimaux Bay, on proceeding to the northward and westward is extremely rugged and hilly it is composed of ranges of round-backed hills, traversing the country in all directions; they do not, in the interior at least, assume the altitude of mountains—the intervals between them are filled either by lakes or marshes; so that in looking down from the brow of some more elevated hill, an interminable succession of naked hills and lakes is seen, giving an indescribable aspect of desolation to the country, which is greatly heightened by the effects of the fires that have ravaged the whole country. Indeed, there can be but little doubt, that at one time nearly, if not the whole, of the interior of Labrador was covered with wood, which has since been destroyed by fire; in almost every direction, the naked stumps of trees are | seen, rising out of the moss that now covers the country. Hundreds of miles of the country are now nothing but a barren I waste of naked rock from this cause, which in the recollection I of some of the old hunters were covered with wood formerly.

 

These fires are caused, in a great measure, by the inflammable nature of the moss that covers so large a portion of the ground, and which, when dried by a continuance of fine weather, will ' ignite by a spark, and burns with great rapidity. Notwithstanding that the Indians are well aware of the danger of so doing, they generally make use of the moss, when they wish to inform their friends that they are in any particular part of the country, and this they do by setting fire to it. I once had an opportunity of witnessing the rapidity with which the fire spreads in the moss and the ravages that are caused by it. In 1840, I ascended the Grand River, for the purpose of exploring it, after having been out about ten days, I felt anxious to ascertain if any Indians were in the neighbourhood, in order to acquire information from them respecting the country in the vicinity;—I, accordingly gave orders, to a couple of Indians I had with me, to make a signal by smoke, so that if any Indians were in the neighbourhood, they might be warned of our approach, and come and meet us. I encamped for this purpose, and while the men were engaged in pitching the tent, &c, the Indians went to the summit of a neighbouring hill, about a mile off, and there collecting a quantity of moss, set fire to it, and immediately rejoined me—about half an hour afterwards, while sitting at J the door of the tent, enjoying a cool breeze that had just sprung up, I was startled by a noise like thunder, and ere I could spring to my feet, I was warned, by the frantic shouts of my men of the danger that was approaching. It was with the utmost difficulty that we could launch the canoe and hastily throwing our things into it, contrive to decamp before the fire reached our encampment; indeed, all our haste would have been of no avail, had we not fortunately been encamped in a spot of green wood—such was the rapidity with which the flames advanced, that one of my men, who had wandered a little way from the encampment, had the utmost difficulty in saving himself, even at the top of his speed. Before we had time to reach half-way across the river, which was here about a mile in breadth, the whole mountain, from top to bottom, was one sheet of fire. The fire lasted for upwards of three weeks, and spread over, and completely destroyed, an extent of some hundred of square miles. The Indians also state, that fires are frequently caused by lightning striking the dried stumps of trees—the frequency of this cause, as alleged by them, is singular, as thunder is very uncommon there. The desolating effect of these fires is also greatly, enhanced by the fact, that no second growth appears where the fire has passed, so that the country, ever after, remains completely denuded of wood.

 

To return, however, to the appearance and face of the country to the northward of Esquimaux Bay. A great portion of it is covered with enormous boulders, in immense numbers: they add greatly to the labour of traversing the country from one lake to another, as considerable risk is incurred of breaking a limb by falling between them. The following extracts, from the report of a gentleman, who was sent to explore the country on the Nascapee River, will give a very good idea of it:—

 

"From North-west River House, the River Nascapee is ascended for about 65 miles when it is left at Mont a Peine Portage, from thence you follow from one lake to another— most of them very small. The country, from Mont a Peine Portage, as far as the Little Seal Lake, is as barren and as miserable as can be seen any where; the trees are all burnt, and nothing but stones arid dry stumps to be seen—there is not even earth or moss enough, in most of the carrying-places, to make a foot-path. Beyond the Little Seal Lake, the country becomes

a little better; a few green trees are met with, until the Portage called She-pay taw-wa Kaw, or Seven Mile Portage, where the country becomes still more barren and burnt—this continues to be the case as far as Meshagamou Lake, where, on the First of July, the ice was still firm—there is no wood to build there; it is only at Gull Nest Lake where wood to build could be found; this Lake is but a short distance from Lake Meshagamou. From North-west River House to the latter lake there are 45 Portages, two of which are from 5 to 7 miles long, and several are 2 miles. Of the lakes passed through, 10 were from two miles and a-half to 12 miles long, and from 5 to 6 miles broad; these were the largest—the others were from 2 acres to one mile and a-half; most of them are destitute of fish and all very shallow. On the 22d, 23d, and 24th June, we found the lakes full of ice ; we advanced by making portages over the ice or through the woods, and by creeping along the small lanes of water near the shores—the borders of the River Nascapee, when we ascended it, were still lined by ice, some of it ten feet thick."

 

Such is the nature of the country to the northward of Esquimaux Bay; to the southward of it, the country, though in some respects similar, is much more level and is more clothed with trees. After passing the first range of mountains, on leaving the Bay, an elevated plateau is gained, which continues until the shores of the Gulf of St. Lawrence are approached, when the country becomes more mountainous, and slopes rapidly to the seaside; the breadth of the plateau may be about 140 miles—it abounds with lakes, some of them of considerable size, but so shallow, that according to the gentleman who explored it by my orders, 'they might rather be, called swamps overflowed with water than lakes;'—the rivers likewise" that traverse this part of the country though broad are exceedingly shallow. The whole of the interior of it is covered with wood, though it is very stunted and thin in some; places; but, as you approach the coast of the Gulf, the wood diminishes until it disappears altogether on the coast.

 

The Valley of the Grand River, for about 100 miles from its entrance, presents a pleasing contrast to the barrenness of every other part of the country round the Bay. This valley is very well timbered, and some of the trees are of a large size; intermixed with the spruce is a considerable quantity of white birch, and a few poplars are also to be seen; a light loamy soil is also, frequently to be found on the points of the river. There is a difference of 20 days in favor of this valley in the spring and fall, this difference of climate is to be attributed, in a great degree to its favorable aspect, to the south and west, and also, in some measure to the superior warmth of the water coming from the westward.

 

GEOLOGICAL REMARKS

 

The rock formation in the neighbourhood of this Bay consists of Granitic and Syenitic compounds—these coumpounds are intersected by veins of Quartz running in all directions— they are also traversed by wide veins or dykes of Trap, which being of a softer nature than the surrounding rock, wears away quicker, leaving large fissures and hollows in the face of the rock. Many of these rocks put on the appearance of some Lime stones from the incipient decomposition of their Felspar.

 

In some places Mica Slate was found—it is said, that the Mealy Mountains are composed of this rock—I had no opportunity of verifying this fact, as I did not visit them. Granite was only seen in one place, viz.: on Lake Keith, an expansion of the Grand River, about 130 miles from its mouth. Specimens of Chlorite Schists were also procured on this lake, as was; also a specimen of Sandstone, with disseminated grains of Iron Pyrites. At some distance below the lake, Primary Marble, of a beautiful whiteness, was seen cropping out at the edge of the water, it was found in contact with a Quartz rock passing into Mica Slate, having crystals of common Garnet imbeded in it—; this was the only place where Limestone of any sort was seen.

 

The shores of the Bay, where they are not of rock, are generally composed of rolled fragments of Syenite, Mica Slate, Quartz, Hornblend, sometimes in large masses, Felspar, &c. Magnetic Iron, in the form of sand was also met with in some of the small coves.

Some parts of the country are covered with numerous boulders, as already noticed—they are for the most part composed of a light-coloures Syenite, some of them are of great size.

On removing the covering of moss, which covers so large a portion of the country, the naked rock is revealed, or else a coarse sand is found, exactly resembling that now seen on the shores of the Bay. Numerous evidences were observed in every part of the Bay, of changes in the relative positions of the land and water having taken place, either by the upraising of the land, or by the retiring of the water. In some places, upwards of 50 fest above the present level, and at the distance j of more than a mile from the present shore, furrows and ridges, exactly similar to those now forming on the sand shore, were found—these ridges were covered with trees, which from their size and the slow growth of timber in that country must have been of considerable age—the trees on those ridges which approach nearest to the present shore were of a much smaller description than those growing on the more distant ridges.

 

With the exception of the Magnetic Iron Sand, noticed above, and a few small specimens of Iron Pyrites, no metallic minerals were met with. A specimen of Native Copper was procured from the natives to the north of Esquimaux Bay—it was part of a large piece, found by an Esquimaux, on the beach, about 15 miles to the south of Hope Dale; it was very much water worn. Labrador Felspar was not met with in the Bay, the specimens I collected of it were from Kibokok Bay, about 150 miles to the north of Esquimaux Bay.

 

CLIMATE

 

There is a marked difference in the climate at the head of the large bays, on the coast of Labrador, such as Esquimaux Bay, and that experienced on the immediate borders of the ocean, in favor of the former; this must be borne in mind, as the remarks that I shall make are principally drawn from experience, acquired at North-west River House, situated near the head of the Bay, about 135 miles from the entrance; it was here where I passed the greatest part of the winter.

 

About the middle of May, the snow, in exposed situations, begins to give some indications of thy sun's power. From the 25th to the end of the month the catkins of the willow begin to open—geese begin also to make their appearance, about this time, if the season promises to be an early one. About the first week" in June the ice in the bay generally gives way, in ordinary seasons, and in four or five days afterwards, the navigation of the Bay is once more free.

 

The heat, in summer, is often great, though it seldom lasts beyond a single day at a time. I have seen the thermometer as high as eighty-six degrees, at four o'clock, p.m., and once, on the 21st August, 1840, it rose as high as ninety-four degrees in the shade—these excessive heats never last above two or three hours—the sense of oppression felt during their continuance is very great; the range during July and August may be taken at from fifty to seventy degrees. The nights are generally very cool and agreable; June is commonly a rainy month; Jury and August are usually dry; as September advances bad |weather becomes much more frequent, and in October, it is rare to have more than one fine day at a time. By the latter end of |November the Bay is generally frozen over.   Snow most commonly begins to fall about the middle of October; on the exposed places, it often melts off again for a little while, but in the woods it generally remains; in the woods and hollows the snow may be said to lie for eight months of the year. During the winter, the weather is generally clear, particularly in January and February; the largest quantity of snow falls in March. Rain seldom falls in winter, when it does it is mostly in January. The greatest cold experienced in 1839—'40 and '41, was:—In 1839, January 23, when the thermometer was at —37 deg. “1840, Febry. 4, do.

do. do.—35" "1841,do.9, do.      do. do.—25" It must be remarked, that these were the degrees of cold shewn by a spirit thermometer, and will, of course, require a correction to make them equal to what a mercurial thermometer would have shewn ; according to Deluc and De Wildt, the degrees, by a mercurial thermometer, would have been from 40° to 50° below zero. The winter of 1840—'1, was an extraordinary mild one.

 

The most prevalent winds are from S. E. round by the North to the South-west, but this is owing greatly to the draught of the Bay. The Easterly winds always bring bad or cloudy weather—the North winds are also, accompanied by bad weather, especially in winter—the other winds are generally attended with fine weather.

 

These observations, it must again be remarked, are applicable only to the country at the head of the Bay; for, as already observed, a great difference in climate is experienced as the sea-coast is approached. The cold in winter is there much more intense, and the weather far more boisterous, the winds: often blowing with terrific violence, accompanied by so thick a I snow-drift that nothing can be discerned at the distance of 1 four or five yards. The summers are likewise much cooler, indeed, they are generally so cool that it is very rarely that a stove is found unpleasant. The large number of icebergs that 1 are brought down by the constant current that sets to the I Southward along the whole coast of Labrador, tend to keep the temperature on the coast low. Until the middle or latter i end of July the coast is also much infested with drift ice, especially when the winds from the Eastward prevail. Fogs are I not quite so frequent at the entrance of the Bay as they are I more to the Southward—at the head of the Bay they are comparatively rare. On the whole, the climate of Labrador is I extremely healthy, if we may judge from the few disorders that are prevalent; these are mostly confined to rheumatisms, colds, and a species of influenza, with which persons who have lived some years there are almost invariably attacked on the arrival of the vessels in the spring; it is rarely, if ever fatal to the whites, but is often so to the natives.

 

GENERAL REMARKSINHABITANTS, &C.

 

Davis, in his Second Voyage of Discovery in 1586, is the first that appears to have noticed this extensive bay; for there can be but little doubt, that the large opening which he saw in

Lat. 54° 30', "Entering in between two lands, the lower all islands," was the mouth of this bay, answering as it does, both; in appearance and situation to it. The French however, were the first who gave the bay its present name, and resorted to it for trade, which they appear to have done at an early period, for the bay appears under its present name, in maps published by them very early in the last century; and in some of them, the form of the Bay is laid down pretty correctly. After the loss of their possessions in Canada, they abandoned the trade to Esquimaux Bay, and some time elapsed before the English took it up, for it was only in 1777, that the first Englishman wintered in the Bay—his son was still living there a year ago he found the remains of the old French establishments in many parts. In 1785 a Canadian from Quebec, wintered there, since that date, establishments have always been kept up in the Bay, by merchants and others of Quebec; after undergoing numerous changes, these establishments fell in 1837, into the hands of the Hudson's Bay Company, in whose possession they still remain. In the meantime, the knowledge of the Bay, possessed by the French geographers seems to have been gradually lost, as well as the name given to the inlet—instead of which the native name of Invucktoke appears to have been appropriated to it, and the entrance only marked in the map, until the last edition of Arrowsmith's Map of the British North America, where the Bay once more resumes its form, with the name of Hamilton's Inlet tacked to the native designation. It is not however, very accurately laid down, the distance from the entrance to the head of the inlet being made much shorter than it really is.

 

The residents of Esquimaux Bay may be classed as follows, viz.: Persons in the employ of the trading companies, Planters or freemen, Esquimaux and Mountaineer Indians.

 

The first class are now confined to the servants of the Hudson's Bay Company, who are now the only Company that pave permanent establishments in the Bay—they amount to fifteen or twenty individuals.

 

The Planters or freemen, are composed of persons who have come out in the service of the different mercantile establishments, and at the expiration of their engagements have remained in the country, hunting and fishing, on their own account, receiving the necessary supplies from the nearest establishments, and giving in the produce of their hunt, &c, in return; a great portion of this class is now composed of the offspring of former planters with the Esquimaux women. The mode of living of these two classes is in some degree similar—the following is a short sketch of the annual routine pursued by the first class.

 

Immediately after the business of the summer season is closed, by the departure of the vessel, generally about the middle of September, the men are sent into winter quarters; that is, they are sent in parties of two each, up the different rivers, to pass the winter in trapping martens and other animals; they live in small huts, warmed by a stove; their work consists in visiting their traps, keeping them free from snow, and in hunting for a part of their subsistence. Their traps are either steel ones, or made of wood, technically called "dead falls”—these latter traps are constructed in such a manner, that the animal on taking the bait, pulls down a heavy piece of wood that crushes him. The traps for martens are placed along a blazed path (called a "cat path") leading into the interior, and varying in length from one to three days' walk, according to the address and activity of the hunter—the traps for foxes are placed along the borders of the rivers or bays. The men, on leaving the main Post, are furnished with a certain quantity of pork, flour, and ammunition, which is expected to last them until they return in the spring, generally about the first or second week in June. On the breaking up of the ice, they return to the post, when preparations are immediately commenced for the salmon-fishery, and when that is over the cod fishery is pursued until the end of the summer season. Such is the general routine followed in Esquimaux Bay—but, in places where the seal-fishery is pursued, the men do not go into winter quarters before that fishery is finished, which it seldom is before December—other local variations take place, but such is the general routine of the year. The life the planters lead is one very similar to the above, with the exception, that having generally large families, they most commonly winter on the immediate shores of the Bay if possible, for the convenience of hunting ducks in the spring, for the subsistence of their families. Their number may be on an average, about forty-five souls, of these eight are white men, the remainder half-breed Esquimaux. They are very uncertain in their movements, often wintering in places widely remote from their former habitations, for as they invariably carry all their property with them, in their annual migrations to and from their summer residence, they are not at all under the necessity of returning to the winter-house they last occupied, unless the situation should happen to be a favourable one; their migrations are performed in open whale boats, in which they will often make voyages of a month's duration, the women managing the boats as well as the men, and pulling an equally good oar. Even in summer, some of them are continually changing their quarters; passing the first part of the summer in fishing salmon, in the neighbourhood of Rigolet, and then going to the entrance of the Bay, to pursue the cod fishery, until it is time to return to winter quarters. The life these people lead is one of great

hardship and fatigue, from their constant exposure to the weather, and the necessity of using the most strenuous exertions, to subsist their families, for the provisions they are enabled to purchase from the traders are never sufficient to support them during the long winter; the constant decrease of the hunt and fisheries, of late years, has also greatly augmented their misery.

 

The Bay was formerly the principal residence of the Esquimauxs, from the facilities that it offered for living, the seals frequenting it in great numbers, and remaining in the Bay during the whole winter. But the number of seals has been gradually diminishing of late years, this has caused many of the tribe to leave the place ; we must however look to the combined effects of the rum and the vices, imported by the Europeans, for the great diminution that has taken place within the last sixty years in the number of the Esquimauxs belonging to the Bay; even as late as the beginning of the present century, they numbered upwards of 300—they are now reduced to eight families, consisting of thirty-four individuals, viz. : nineteen males and fifteen females.

 

They have abandoned almost the whole of their former manners and customs, and assimilated themselves as much as possible to the whites, whose example, I regret to say, has not always been conducive to the improvement of their morals. In the summer they are generally employed in hunting for seals —killing them principally with their harpoons, the use of the gun having been found to have the effect of frightening away the seal. When not thus engaged, they are mostly employed in fishing cod, which they dispose of to the traders. In winter they subsist chiefly on the seals they can kill by watching for them at the holes in the ice, which these animals frequent for the purpose of breathing. In the month of May, the seals and.; their young, which are then just born, frequently come to bask on the ice and to enjoy the heat of the sun; they are then killed v. often in considerable numbers, by the Esquimauxs. They rarely hunt the fur-bearing animals, except the fox, for which they | sometimes set traps. As the seal furnishes them with clothes; food and light, it is not surprising that they should devote by far the greatest part of their time to the pursuit of that animal, so infinitely more valuable to them, and so much more easily killed than martens and other animals of that sort, whose carcases, when caught, would yield them little or no food.

 

They are generally docile and obedient when employed as servants which they sometimes are—like all other Indians, they are incapable of continued exertion for any length of time, except it is for the chase. As they invariably travel with dogs they are but indifferent walkers, in this respect, they are far surpassed by the Mountaineers; they however, much exceed the latter in the ingenuity and neatness which they display in the construction of the different articles they require. Their manner of tackling their dogs, mode of travelling, &c, exactly resemble the description given by Captain Parry of the Esquimauxs to the north. Being more in the habit of living in communities of several families together, their intercourse with one another is rather more kind I think, than that of their neighbours the Mountaineers; though occasionally, acts of great cruelty and indifference to suffering have come to my knowledge, especially among the women. They are often driven to great extremities by hunger, under these circumstances, cannibalism is not unknown amongst them—nor is it looked upon with that great degree of horror that it is among the Mountaineers; for a women that was pointed out to me as having, under the pressure of want, devoured several members pf her family, and among others her husband, found no difficulty in procuring another partner. The example and exhorting of the Whites have been successful in putting an end to the horrid practice, formerly very prevalent among them, of burying the living infant with the dead mother!

 

They are not personally brave—at least, not in our sense of the word brave—for in their quarrels, they never attack their 'antagonist except they have the advantage of numbers or strength on their side—they are also easily overawed by a I stern look and an angry tone of voice, on the part of the white V—yet, in other respects, their courage is undoubted, as their j encounters with the fierce and savage Polar Bear sufficiently ; testify, for they do not hesitate to engage him single-handed.

 

The Esquimauxs, frequenting the Bay, have little or no notion of religion. Some years ago, a Wesleyan minister remained for a winter in the Bay—during his stay they paid; great attention to his exhortations; he would no doubt, have done some good, had it not been for the pernicious example of the whites that constantly nullified the good effects of his preaching. Tired and disgusted at the manner in which he was treated by the whites, and at the effect their bad example had upon the natives, he left the following summer, and none have ever been there since, In this respect, as indeed in most I others, the Esquimauxs to the north have greatly the advantage over their brethren in Esquimaux Bay.

 

The Mountaineers, whose hunting- grounds are in the vicinity of the Bay, are a branch of the Cree Nation, a dialect of whose I language they speak. They are very much reduced in number; of the thirty-two families that frequented the Bay in 1840, only nine belonged to it, that is, whose hunting-grounds were in the neighborhood, the remainder were from the Posts on the St. Lawrence, from whence they had been attracted by the great number of Reindeer in the vicinity of the Bay. These nine families comprised 48 individuals, in which however are included several orphans and widows. They resemble in every respect the Indians of the King's Posts. From the great abundance of Reindeer throughout the whole of this country, they might, if they would keep from rum, make themselves perfectly independent of the whites; but allured by that pernicious liquor, they are sunk into a state of abject slavery; and their intercourse with the whites has but served to degrade them even | more than it has done the Esquimaux. As they stand greatly in awe of the latter people they rarely descend the Bay ; passing the summer in the vicinity of the Post of North West River, at the head of the Bay, where the Mountaineer trade is carried on. In winter, their time is chiefly spent in the chase of the Reindeer—in summer, when the deer retire to the north or to the tops of the high mountains, out of the way of the flies, they generally subsist on fish, wild-fowl and seals. Resembling as they do, the Indians of the King's Post in every respect, little need be said on the subject of their manners and customs. The Reindeer is to them what the Seal is to the Esquimaux, and like them they are consequently poor hunters of the fur-bearing animals. With the exception of those who have visited the Posts on the St. Lawrence, where they have had an opportunity of seeing a Roman Catholic Priest, they have no idea of religion—they however generally bring their infants to the nearest post, to be baptized by the clerk in charge; but this is from an idea, that it will in some way make him a better hunter, and not from any religious motives. Degraded as they are, they yet look with great contempt upon the Nascapees, a tribe whose hunting-grounds are entirely in the interior, and who have, until lately, had very little intercourse with the whites—giving as a reason, their greater advancement in civilization as evinced by the rum they can procure.

 

Their rivers and lakes being covered with ice for nearly two-thirds of the year, they do not travel much in canoes, and are consequently not good canoemen, being very timid—in this respect they are far surpassed by their brethren in the King's Posts.

 

They have an exceeding dread of the Iroquois, a singular fact, as shewing how far-spread was the dread excited among the Indian nations, by that warlike tribe, and how long the

.tradition of their ferocity has continued to be handed down.

 

TRADE

 

The trade of Esquimaux Bay, formerly of some consequence, has been gradually diminishing for some years past, and is now extremely limited—it is confined to a trifling bartering trade in cloth, blankets, guns, ammunition, and provisions, with the Planters and Esquimaux, who in return give a little seal oil, salmon, codfish, and a few furs—this trade is principally carried on at the Post of Rigolet, about fifty miles from the sea. The trade with the Mountaineers, as already mentioned, is carried on at the head of the Bay—cloths, blankets, guns, ammunition, and a little flour, are given to them, in exchange for the skins of martens, foxes, deer, lynxes, wolverines minks, beaver, &c.—the quantity procured is very small in proportion to the number of Indians, and the trade is very far from being a profitable one, on account of the expense attending it. It is at present, entirely monopolized by the Hudson's Bay Company, as well as the trade of Rigolet.

 

At the entrance of the Bay, are situated two small cod fishing establishments, carried on by people from Newfound land, who likewise have a little trade with the Planters and Esquimauxs, but the amount of business thus done is very trifling. During the cod fishing, a few American vessels visit the Bay—of late years the catch has not been great—the fish appear to be more numerous further north, where the Americans generally follow them—a solitary trading-vessel, from Nova Scotia, now and then finds its way as far as the Bay.

 

The salmon fishery is principally carried on in the neighbourhood of Bigolet—the nets are set at the different points of the Bay when the current is strongest. The catch is now very small—the total export of the Bay hardly exceeding 120 tierces when formerly it surpassed 400. Nearly all the seal oil exported from the Bay is the produce of the hunt of the Esquimauxs; the Bay not being advantageous for carrying on fisheries for that animal. One small vessel is employed by the Hudson's Bay Company in the trade of the Bay—it is found more than sufficient for it, and it is sent every second year, as far as Ungava Bay, in Hudson's Straits, to collect the returns of that district.