Up the River Moisie

 

By Edward Cayley

 

[Originally published by the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec in Transactions, New Series, No. 1 (1862)]

 

(Read before the Society, 1st April 1803.)

 

Towards the end of May 1861, having received instructions, with Mr. Gaudet, to accompany Professor Hind on his proposed exploration up the Ever Moisie, we embarked together on board the steamer "Arabian," on the fourth of June, along with several parties of amateur fishermen bound for the different salmon rivers on the coast, some for Kimouski, some for the Goudbout, some like ourselves for the Moisie. Arriving off its mouth at daylight on the 6th, we landed and met with a most hearty and hospitable reception at the hands of Mr. Holliday, at that time lessee of the netting, not only of the Moisie, which is the finest salmon river on the coast, but also of the Goudbout and the Escoumins. We here tested the powers of our men in managing their canoes, by making them take them ashore through a heavy swell, and with great fear and trepidation they did so. They did not like shirking their duties at the outset or not one would have stirred, for we saw at once that they knew nothing of a bark canoe, however efficient they might be in the "dug outs" used between Quebec and Pointe Levi. This trial also gave us a foretaste of the great additional discomfort we might experience, with any

but professional voyageurs, on such an expedition as that in which we were now engaged.

 

Professor Hind was attracted to the Moisie, in the first instance, by a desire to explore a terra incognita, a country that no one knew any thing about. He had heard that it was possible to ascend this river and by a continuous chain of river and lake, to reach the Atlantic coast; it had been done by Indians, and what had been done, he determined to do again and deserve well of the world, by his contributions to its geographical knowledge.

 

There is a certain great charm in exploring a country entirely unknown, that none but the Indian has traversed and of which no account has ever been received; so with high hopes we started, and, not knowing what we might encounter, we were well provided with guns and rifles, revolvers and all munitions of war, in readiness for the bears and wild beasts and anything hostile in the shape of Indians or otherwise we thought it likely we might meet.

 

Our first difficulty was to find some one acquainted with the country to act as guide, and at the same time as interpreter to the different tribes of Indians, Montagnais and Nasquapis we expected to meet, and this proved insurmountable, so that we finally started with a Montagnais who could speak the language of the Nasquapis, but had never ascended the river more than 70 or 80 miles.

 

We left Quebec with very vague anticipations of what we were to expect. We thought it was probably a mountainous country, and that the chain of river and lake we had heard of might not be quite continuous, and so far our anticipations were most thoroughly realized. We hoped to find plenty of game in the interior, and possibly, to render our names famous, by traversing, and describing, 700 or 800 miles of new country, and have a pleasant trip homeward, round by the Straits of Belleisle.

 

On reaching the Moisie, our ideas were considerably modified by an interview with Père Arnaud, a most intelligent and zealous missionary, whose head-quarters are at Bersimis, and whose charge extends over the whole coast. He, in pursuit of his widely scattered flock, had endeavored to make this very same trip, and reported it impossible. First, because the spring is always very late, the ice in the upper lakes and rivers never moving till the very end of May or beginning of June, and in consequence the rivers are so swollen at that season, and come thro' the mountain passes at such a pace, as to render the ascent exceedingly difficult, and so to retard progress as to make it impossible to reach the upper waters till late in the year, when the rivers are very low. Then again, as the lakes in the interior begin to freeze at the end of August, he gave us a very good idea of what we really could do, and how far we really could go, which was about one fifth of the distance Professor Hind had proposed to himself to explore

.

We left the mouth of the Moisie, a party of eleven, in three canoes, laden almost to the gunwale. Professor Hind, with two men, was in the first, his brother, a professional artist, with two more in the second, while the third, being rather larger than the others, was reserved for Mr. Gaudet and myself, with three men to paddle us. Starting on the 10th day of June, we found all that had been told us to be perfectly true,—that the ice having only broken up ten days previously, the river was still so much swollen as very greatly to impede our progress, compelling us to cross from side to side to take advantage of every eddy and inequality there might be, so as to avoid the full force of the stream.

 

Expanding into a bay, about 2 miles in depth, the river at its mouth presents rather a deceptive appearance, and gives one the idea of a much larger stream than the Moisic really is; but, as we left the low sandy flats behind us, we found the land growing gradually higher and higher, the soil better, exercising its influence on the timber, birch balsam, poplar and spruce, and the stream narrowing till it reached a breadth of 1/4 of a mile, which it maintained till, 13 miles up the river, we arrived at the Grand Portage.

 

Accustomed to the well travelled portages of the Northwest, we were rather startled to find that in this, as in nearly all those we afterwards made, we had to cut out a passage for our canoes, which added materially to the difficulties attending our course.

 

In making this portage we came across a couple of curious deep clefts or faults, where the rock had sunk straight downward, leaving the sides of the rock sharp and perpendicular.

 

The numerous marten traps that were here met with, one of our party, new to the country, mistook for sign posts, with their four sides ever directing the belated traveller to the North, South, East and West.

 

Mist-a-Kapitagan (the Indian name for Grand Portage) is 4§ miles in length, and is made to avoid a succession of rapids and falls, which, on our return trip, we ran in our canoes at a very different pace.

 

After passing the Grand Portage, the character of the stream became very much changed. Contracted to a third of its former breadth, its banks showed plainly step by step, for 10 or 12 ft. in the shingle, though even then unusually high, the subsidence of the waters. The trees also had been regularly barked by the masses of floating ice in the spring. Higher up it often ran between masses of gneiss from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in height, sometimes perpendicular from the water's edge, sometimes retreating therefrom, but keeping the general direction of the river.

 

The rapidity of the stream was such that our progress was, necessarily very slow, often having to employ the pole to aid the paddle, and the line, when possible, to aid the pole.

 

So little was our guide acquainted with the route, that when on the 7th day out we reached the Grand Forks, where the North East Branch joins the main river, we stopped and held a long consultation as to which we should take, deciding finally, though with very little to aid our decision, on continuing our course up the principal stream.

 

The same evening soon after pitching our tents, we saw a canoe coming quickly down the rapids, causing great excitement in the camp. We all crowded to welcome, and, through our interpreter, talk with its occupants, who proved to he Dominique, Chief of the tribe of the Montagnais, his wife and family.

 

Dominique is a very active looking man, with fine Caucasian features, not at all the face of an Indian. He gave us very discouraging accounts, said it was impossible for us to ascend this way, and still less practicable, the other or N. E. branch, by which his two brothers with their families were descending ; that the ice had only just broken up when he started and that plenty of snow lay still on the ground, that there was a great scarcity of game, no rabbits, no partridge, no ptarmigan, ducks or geese, that during the winter he had shot some thirty caribou, but very far in the interior.

 

We urged him to turn back with us and be our guide over all the portages, and through all the difficulties that might await us in our onward course, but though professedly most anxious so to do, he said he could not, on the groun d that he had not seen the priest since the summer previous.

 

It seemed curious to us and almost inexplicable, until we saw more of Père Arnaud himself on our return, that these Indians should feel the necessity laid upon them to come year by year hundreds of miles to see the priest, and then return again into the wilds. A higher tribute to his zeal and a warmer appreciation of his labours, could not be shewn, and no doubt acted as strong incentives to his continued exertions in their behalf. At last, having made a plan of the route for us on birch bark, after much persuasion he agreed to leave an adopted son of his, with us, a youthful Nasquapi, whom he had picked up somewhere, and who had, like all his tribe, been tattooed at the time of his birth on both cheeks

 

After leaving this camp, our progress was still slower and more laborious, sometimes fighting our way, inch by inch in deep and narrow gorges, with high rocks on either side, and no footing for man ashore or for pole afloat. Occasionally in the rapids, while using our utmost force to stem the waters, a pole would slip and down the canoe would have to come and commence its toilsome ascent once more.

 

Here too we traversed some very fine scenery, mountains striking boldly up from the water to a height of 350 feet, or retreating gradually from the river's bank at an angle of 45°, till, with beautifully rounded top or an occasional lofty pinnacle, it reached its summit in the clouds. Here and there a foaming torrent might be seen tumbling down from a height among the mountains, affording ample scope for our Artist to display his powers.

 

We now first met in quantity the celebrated Labrador feldspar, called Labradorite, the varying tints of which, and their effect, are so graphically described by Captain Bad-deley in an early publication of this Society. Quoting from the Revd. Mr. Steinhauer, who is speaking of a locality rather nearer the Straits of Belleisle, he says, that the different colours flashing from the cliffs and changing with every movement of his boat, made a most brilliant scene almost realizing one in fairy land. Oar experience was not such a happy one as that of the reverend gentleman, and we had to search, not always succesfully, for the variegated aspect for which it is noted.

 

So great had been the difficulty attending our exceedingly slow and toilsome ascent, that, at a place where two streams meet, (the Ata-chi-kar-mi-shish or Coldwater river rushing in to join its waters to those of the Moisie) we gladly made a long portage to leave the main river entirely behind us, and by a route often followed by the Indians, greatly to vary the monotony of falls and rapids, which it had previously been our hard lot to surmount, by a succession of lakes, some of them, very large and beautiful.

 

In adopting this route we had to face a steep ascent of some 350 feet, meeting a strange avalanche of Labradorite, which mast have occurred but a very short time previously; large masses had fallen from a height of 450 feet, sweeping everything before them, huge trees having been torn up by the roots and hurled with resistless force to the bottom.

 

On this portage were many beautiful, open glades, beaver meadows and level plateaux, but we were astonished to find that the paths, the original paths, had probably been made centuries before. In many cases a new growth of timber had sprung up, yet the deeply marked well worn paths, leading up to their very trunks, looked as fresh as the new ones that made the detour. These spoke of other and far different times, when the tribes were numbered by hundreds, perhaps thousands, instead of as now by single families. It must have been long ago, for no vegetation would have ventured to trespass on paths not long in disuse, and a length of time must have elapsed to account for the appearance of those afterwards made, which must also have been in use for many years.

 

We had here passed several mountains from 600 to 700 feet high, but on reaching the first small lake, a couple of miles in length, we found everything changed. Labradorite had given place, gneiss had resumed its sway. The mountains surrounding the lake were low and rounded off ; none of the bold bluffs and perpendicular masses which seemed to characterize the feldspar were to be seen, and the timber, small white birch and balsam, was far poorer and more stunted in character.

 

Lake and portage now succeeded one another with such rapidity as quite to try the temper of our unfortunate men, who unaccustomed as they were to the work, did not think it possible that any one would voluntarily have undertaken such an arduous journey as ours had proved to be, with so very little in this barren inhospitable country to reward us.

 

Our little guide, the chiefs adopted son, from this time forward, rendered us invaluable assistance, by directing us straight to the proper landing places, and saving us the trouble of skirting the lake shores, in search of them.

 

We now made the fifth portage, where we first met with some curious natural steps or terraces, which were continually repeated on our march. They were usually 5 or 6 in number, averaging 3 or 4 feet in height ; the distances between each, rather irregular, just affording room enough to take two or three paces, and their surfaces presenting the appearance of having been artificially constructed. They were of the common dark hornblendic gneiss, and in a general North East and South West direction

.

On the 24th June, we arrived at the ninth Portage, Ojiapisitagan as the Montagnais call it, or Top of the Ridge, with a lofty mountain on our left, from the top of which our little guide told us the Gulf could be seen. I set out next morning with Professor Hind, with the intention of making the ascent, but something happened to determine our following the men with their packs instead, and right glad were we afterwards that we had done so. After continuing on our course for nearly an hour, we leached the highest point, when we ascertained by our aneroid barometers that we had ascended 820 feet, being 1460 feet above the level of the sea. In all our former North-west experience and in all the 57 portages we had made there, between the head of Lake Superior and Red River, we had met with none like this, nor had we met any scenery like that which now presented itself. The words of the poet seemed literally realized when he says that:

 

“Far as the eye could reach, no tree was seen, “Earth clad in russet, scorn'd the livelier green."

 

Looking back on our former track, the view that met our sight was of a most magnificent description. The whole country lay mapped out beneath us. Lake after lake that we had traversed, small and great, looked very very small from our present elevated position, with mountain rising beyond mountain till they faded away gradually in the light blue of the far distance. In one direction only was our vision limited; that mountain on our left, still towered a thousand feet above us!

 

The same terraces of gneiss again made their appearance, and kept running in the same general direction as before, being that of the "strike " of the gneiss itselft, the "dip" of which was at an angle of 45 ° toward the south.

 

Professor Hind suggested that the gneiss might be found on each side of the granite, dipping in opposite directions, the granite forming the ridge or anticlinal, while the Labradorite before spoken of might be incidental. As we unfortunately did not get beyond the granite, we were unable to collect sufficient data to support this theory, which, in case of confirmation, would have formed a most important addition to our knowledge of the geological nature of the country.

 

On the tops of all the mountains, the high one on the left not excepted, huge boulders were perched, always seemingly on the very highest points possible, and always, though this may have been an optical illusion, resting with their smallest end downward, as if just ready to topple over. I took the position of one on the summit of this as a challenge to a trial of strength which I put forth, to see if I could not give it the necessary impetus to destroy its balance, but found myself quite unequal to the task.

 

On the following day, we reached a Height of Land, and after all our continued exertion against the stream, enjoyed the great pleasure of going with it for a while. A celebrated French author remarks, that we often enjoy the misfortunes even of our dearest friends. A case now occurred that may be taken as an instance. The two lighter canoes had run a rapid successfully, but observing that it was exceedingly shallow, they waited at the foot to see us descend. Down we came, but suddenly striking on a rock, out we all jumped into the middle of the stream, to the great amusement of those below especially of our artist who perpetuated the scene in a very lively sketch. This pleasant journeying with the stream lasted only for a couple of days, when we arrived at a magnificent camping ground on the borders of a large lake, of which the North East branch of the Moisie is the outlet.

 

Here we found in the trees and in a large pit several caches made by the Indians,—things sewn up in birch bark, strips of the bark itself sewn together for tents, with several night lines and curious copper hooks, which might have been taken as an indication of there being copper in the interior, were it not for the facility with which it can be procured from the Hudson Bay Company's stations.

After traversing this lake for a couple of miles, we arrived at the narrows, which ushered us into a still larger expanse of waters, in fact the largest we encountered on the whole route. Studded all over with islands as it was, we could yet see that it extended six or seven miles in the direction in which we were going, and three or four in the other,—the surrounding mountains having still as before, those huge boulders set so provokingly on end. It really was delightful to know that we could go mile after mile without the dread of a portage before us.

 

Here we found all vegetation behind-hand. The Labrador Tea plant was not yet in flower, though it had been so three weeks before on the Grand Portage. The ferns were only just beginning to sprout, and no wonder, since even on the morning of the 1st of July, the thermometer stood below the freezing point and there was a sharp frost; in fact snow could still be seen in quantity in sheltered places. We were most forcibly struck by the complete silence and stillness that reigned around. No song of bird or hum of insect, or sound of beast to be heard, or a. sign of life to be seen. The very fish never seemed to leap or dash about as is their wont, but, as it were in awe, shunned to disturb the prevailing quiet. It did seem strange that we should be the only living creatures, in all this varied scene of shore and isle and lake.

 

Leaving the beautiful lake or Lake Nipissis, as the Indians call it, our course lay up the North East branch of the Moisie, which we had left so long before at the Grand Forks, and which now, at this distance, nearly 50 miles, from its mouth, was quite a small stream, about 100 feet in breadth.

 

The only thing that remained invariable and ever recurring on our course was the portages,—first on account of some rapids, and then to make a detour round a couple of pretty little falls, about 10 feet high. Our attention was here attracted by some very white or cream coloured feldspar in the granite, which was of note as explaining the snow like appearance of the side of a mountain just beyond the next portage, which we had observed for miles before approaching it and which had greatly excited our curiosity. On this, which was the twenty second portage in all that we had made, were some very remarkable mounds of granite resembling tombs, with huge stones as it were rolled to the doors, to protect the remains of former generations of Indians from desecration.

 

I may here state that we did not in the whole of our journey see any signs of Indian burial places, none of the pigeon-house-like arrangement so familiar to us in the North-west, with its accompanying door ever open, either for the escape of the soul of the departed to the happy hunting grounds, or for the admittance of angelic visitors. It is easily accounted for, as through all this country, not having the means of subsistence, the Montagnais have only been birds of passage as it were, and if any accident should occur on their journey, they would probably carry their dead with them to the coast or to the interior as the case might be.

 

Our curiosity having been excited so much, Professor Hind and myself made the ascent to see what this white rock really was, and enjoyed a magnificent view of the surrounding country, including that of many snow topped mountains in the distance. We also passed many a foot print, shewing where Caribou had been, in the gray moss of which they are so fond, and which had abounded for many miles past. Soon after we entered on a Grand Brulé, which extended on each side and in front as far as the eye could reach. I think it is one of the most desolate things one can possibly imagine, to see a great extent of country, over which the fire has lately passed, and where nothing but blackness meets the eye, where the work of years perhaps of ages is at once destroyed, where all vegetation is swept from the face of the earth and every thing has to make a fresh start and commence anew.

Continuing our ascent of the river, we soon found it impossible to proceed, owing to the shallowness of the water, our canoes constantly grounding on the bottom and in danger of being broken on the stones. In fact for the last few miles, Mr. Gaudet and myself had taken to the shore, so afraid were we of our canoe receiving injury. In this strait, we determined on holding a council of war, to which we admitted our youthful guide, who told us that the Indians themselves generally waded alongside of their canoes for some 20 miles further, until they reach the height of land which divides the waters falling into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, from those which fall into the Atlantic at Esquimaux Bay; and then carry them over the dividing ridge.

 

We were particularly disappointed at having to turn back at this point, as of course after this, it would have been very easy travelling, being down stream all the way to the Atlantic coast; but twenty miles of wading and perhaps five of portage, with our large party, scantily provisioned as we were, was not to be thought of, so we decided on making one final effort to see what was beyond and then set our faces steadily homewards. Leaving our men and the artist, in charge of the canoes, Professor Hind, Mr. Gaudet and myself set out on foot, up a hill four hundred and forty feet high, being 2214 above the level of the sea, from which we enjoyed a very fine view of all the country round, which was intersected with lakes in every direction. The head waters of the Magpie River lay beneath us to our right. That unknown Height of Land not to be passed by us, loomed ahead 20 miles off in the distance.

 

A Cyanometer here would have been invaluable in enabling us to judge of the distances of the several mountains by their different shades of blue. Immense numbers of boulders had for the last few miles strewn the sides of the mountains, in some cases almost seeming to make up the very mountains themselves, there being this difference, that whereas the rock itself in situ is granitic the boulders in every case are of gneiss.

 

Our men were only too glad to retrace their steps, and set off with a will, testifying their pleasure by merrily singing song after song, to keep time with the quick motion of their paddles.

 

Nothing worthy of note occurred in our rapid downward career, excepting one or two exceedingly narrow escapes which we had in the exciting process of running rapids, in one of which we very nearly lost everything we had.

 

We did not stop at the mouth of the Moisieon our return, but went off at once to the Bay of Seven Islands, where a large number of Indians, perhaps a couple of hundred} were collected, in attendance on the ministrations of Père Arnaud.

 

The ladies may be interested in knowing how they manage matrimonial matters on the coast. Père Arnaud generally arranges everything, suggests to an Indian that "so and so" would make him a very good wife and asks him if he has any objections to marry her; if not he ties the noose at once. Of course if the young lady happens to have any violent antipathy, the matter is not urged, but there they generally seem to think the Priest knows best what is good for them, and trust the judgment of their spiritual Father in a way that many a temporal Papa might envy. Polygamy is not allowed among the Montagnais, not at least on the coast where the Priest rules, therein differing greatly from their brethren the Ojibways in the North-west.

 

As soon as they arrive from the interior, they seem to change their own peculiarities of dress as much as possible, desirous of conforming to the European standard of correctness therein, being the better pleased the nearer they approach it. As far as comfort is concerned or even outward appearance they are anything but gainers by the exchange for it looks unnatural. In one case for instance where a Nasquapi had not been to the coast for 3 years and had come down arrayed throughout in deer-skin, next morning, he appeared in heavy leather boots and uncomfortable gray cloth coat. We hardly recognized Dominique the chief, when we saw him again, with a long blue cloth coat, and epaulets to denote his rank. He and several other chiefs sat to our artist for their portraits, not appearing to entertain the idea that many Indians do, that once transferred to paper their immediate death is sure to follow.

 

It is a curious fact, if true, that the Nasquapis die off as they are reported to do as soon as they come to the coast and touch shell-fish; two or three deaths occurring during our short visit, which were attributed to that cause.

 

We saw a great deal of Père Arnaud, who played ball with, and entered into all the fun and amusement of the Indians, as if they were in truth his children as he called them, and this seemed one great secret of his immense popularity amongst them and of the influence he manifestly held over them. He had his daily classes which were numerously attended, and that vexed question of "Separate schools" not having yet penetrated to that part of the world, he had it all his own way.

 

The different chiefs, Thomas Otelni, Barthelemi and Dominique made plans for us of a great deal of country, besides that we ourselves traversed, and gave us much information respecting the manners and customs of their tribe, but which cannot be well brought forward in a paper of this kind.

 

In reviewing what we had achieved by our expedition, I cannot hope to offer an attractive picture to the future tourist ; we had traversed one hundred and ten miles of a most barren, sterile, utterly uninhabitable country, we had met with no trees of any size, further than thirty miles from the coast, to which the Indian from the interior has to descend through many a weary mile, in search of the materials to make his bark canoe ; the only vegetation around him the gray caribou moss, with here and there a stunted tree, gaining a bare subsistence by the disintegration of the rock.

 

We had with almost incredible difficulty and labour, made twenty six portages averaging tliree quarters of a mile in length, through nearly all of which we had to cut out a passage for our canoes, and we had crossed the same number of lakes or lakelets. We had met with no kind of game whatever, only the footprints where game had been, not a bird had we seen but a stray duck here and there that ever seemed winging its way as rapidly as possible over the country.

 

Unless in the development of the modern spirit of exploration, the excelsior spirit of an Alpine club may take it in hand and go further and ascend higher than we did, the Moisie, to be seen in a favorable light, must be regarded as a salmon river, as in respect of the size, quality and quantity of the fish taken in it, it is confessedly unsurpassed. I think that the success of two American gentlemen amateurs last year, was chronicled in the papers of the day, which recorded the fact that in the space of one month, 318 fish fell to their rods, averaging slightly over 15 lbs. each, such fishing having hardly ever been heard of before. The netting of the same river in the tidal waters taken in connection with the above, amounted to nearly 600 barrels, being about one third of the total number of salmon taken on the whole North shore of the St Lawrence in the year 1862.

Thermometrical and Barometrical registers were regularly kept, and the dip and strike of all the rocks of the Laurentian formation met with in the interior, were carefully noted throughout, and it is hoped that the latter may some day be of use with other explorations, in forming the basis of a geological map of the country.