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>nM X r^/^^r
^Je^iyi^^O^^/y ly^r/^.
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
PRESENTED BT
PBOE CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID
UFE AND SPORT
ON
THE NORTH SHORE
OF
THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE
AND GULF
OONTAO^ONG CHAPTERS ON SALMON FISHING. TRAPPING. THE
FOUC4X>R£ OF THE MONTAGNAI8 INDIANS AND TALES
OF ADVENTURE ON THE FRINGE OF THE
LABRADOR PENINSULA.
By
NAPOLEON A. COMEAU
QUEBEC
DAILY TELEGRAPH PRINTING HOUSE
1909
\.aiiaij^
Itedtotereb According) to Act of Parliament in the Office of [the Minister
of Agriculture, Ottawa, in the year 1909, by N. A. Combau.
Bebicateb
Zo mi? son 3amc0
"With the hope that he may find herein some
useful lesson.
" Mon filB, ^coutes-moi, et ftimrends
la r^le de Tesprit, et sois attentlf
k mes paroles daas ton coeur.*'
L'SCCLftSZASTrQUB XVI. 34.
F/MO
3ntrotmttion
^lijltf E were a growp of tourists, ^pleasure seek-
^^* ers and anglers, enjoying the cooling
breezes of the Lower St. Lawrence on the deck of
a North Shore trading steamer approaching the
River Godbout.
A smaU canoe had shot out from the shore,
less than a mile away, in response to the
st^%mer^s whistle, and the captain had raised his
binoculars to examine its approach and occupant.
We were discussing the Deep Sea Mission to
the fishermen of the Newfoundland Labrador,
when the captain interrupted the conversation
with the remark, **WeU, here comes the Gr en fell
of the Canadian Labrador.''
I was the only one of the group, outside of the
captain, who needed no introduction to the
author of this book. Amongst his readers there
wUl be many who wiU require no introduction,
for Mr. Napoleon A. Comeau is personally
known to travellers, sportsmen, scientists and ex-
plorers in every part of the American continent,
and by reputation to a still wider circle of ac-
quaintances.
To those to whom his name is new I might say,
with the captain of the steamer ^'Here comes the
fK^tWSSZ
6 INTRODUCTION
GrenfeU of the Canadian Labrador/* for though,
strictly speaking, even the Canadian Labrador
dees not extend so far to the west as the sphere of
Mr. Comeau's chief activities, the entire coast
line below Pointe des Monts is not infreqvsntly
referred to as the Labrador shore.
Unlike Dr. GrenfeU, Mr. Comeau is not a pro-
fessional physician. Nevertheless he has been
the means of saving many a life, and had done
much humanitarian work long before Dr. Gren-
feU had even been heard of in America. For
years and years he was the only m^an with any
knowledge of medicine along a coastline of many
hundreds of miles. In the families of the scat-
tered residents in the various fishing settlements
along the coast, ** the Stork ** has invoked Mr.
Comeau' s assistance over 2S0 times, and without
a single fatality. The surgical skill which he has
acquired by years of practice, foUowing a hospi-
tal course of only one month, — the medical know-
ledge which is his by virtus of the private study
and reading of a lifetime, — his surgical instru-
ments, dental and other forceps, stock of drugs,
and the diphtheria and other serum supplied by
the Government in times of epidemic, are always
freely at the disposal, not only of the people of
his immediate territory, but also of aU those
whom he may claim as neighbors for hundreds of
miles around.
INTRODUCTION 7
This introductory chapter cannot, be made long
enough to contain a reference to aU of Mr.
Comeau's many activities. At Godbout, where
he resides, he is postmaster, telegrapher, deputy
coroner. Dominion Government fishery overseer,
and auardian of the salmon fishing. He has
served as agent for the Hudson Bay Company,
and speaks the language of the Montagnais In-
dians as well as he does English and French.
Having praciicaUy lived all his life upon the
coast, his knowledge of many tragic scenes and
incidents has been acquired at first hand, and
some of these are described in the following pages,
and in the native simplicity of language and man-
ner characteristic of the author.
Special urging has been necessary to induce
Mr. Comeau to tell of his heroic crossing of the
Lower St. Lawrence, with his brother, in an
open canoe in midwinter, through forty miles of
ice, exposed to a temperature of many degrees be-
low zero, for two days and a night, in the suc-
cessful effort to save the lives of two of his
friends. Only for the purpose of correcting ear-
lier and erroneous reports of this dramatic event,
has Mr. Comeau consented to tell it, as he has
done in the chapters modestly entitled Across
THE St. Lawrence and Our Return Jour-
ney; notwithstanding that all the newspapers
of Canada and the United States sounded the
praises of the fescuers, and that the Governor-
8 INTRODUCTION
General, the Lieut. -Governor, the Royal Humane
Society, the Government of the Dominion, and
the Societe des Chevaliers Sauveteurs des Alpes
Maritime of Nice, vied with each other in show-
ering honors upon them.
To the cause of science the author of this book
has rendered signal service. His text-hook has
been that of Nature. Other works — of which his
library at Godbout contains a useful selection —
and occasional visits to museums, have aided him
in his studies of comparative anatomy. In ori-
ginal research he has done much good work for
which he has received the thanks of officials of
the Smithsonian Institution and members of vari-
ous learned societies. His list of the birds of the
North Shore, published at the end of the present
volume, is a scientific work of permanent value.
The chapters devoted to the natural history of
the North Shore, and especially to trapping and
salmon fishing, are the work of an expert, and
there is scarcely an angler anywhere who will not
be interested in Mr. Comeau's description of the
salmon rivers of the North Shore, and of the
various salmon problems which he discusses out
of the fulness of a life-long experience. What
salmon fisherman will not be attracted by the
scores — faithfully preserved for the last fifty
years — of the salmon killed by rod and line in
the Godbout river, and by the extraordinary kill
of 57 salmon in one day, to Mr. Comeau's own
rod, on the 9th July, 187 4 f
INTRODUCTION 9
The life story of the trapper and the folk-lore
of the Indian hunters of the North Shore are con-
tributions to our national literature that are des-
tined to live, and not the least charm of Mr.
Comeau's volume lies in the fact that it is a sane
and instructive hook, conveying a graphic yet
modest recital of fifty years' work for humanity
and science in one of the least known hut most
interesting sections of Northern Canada.
E. T. D. Chambers.
^ll^OR many yeaxs past, my friends and ac-
Jl quaintances have urged me to write an
account of my trapping, lishing and hunting
experiences; in other words a more or less con-
nected story of my life and adventures. Some-
times I have half promised to do so, but as often
deferred action. One reason for this was that the
subject was distasteful to me. It seemed to me
that to accede to my friends' demands would
savour of boasting of the small things one might
have done, — ^blowing one's own trumpet as it
were, — a thing which I have always hated Lat-
terly, however, my own boys have insisted that I
should write this book, and for their sake and
their benefit, I now place this small volume be-
fore the public. Those who know me best will
be quite satisfied that I have no desire for notor-
iety or boasting, and for those who do not know
me, I suppose it matters very little what they
may think. They may be certain of one thing, —
that all the statements contained in this book are
those of actual facts and without any exagger-
ation. I have no blood-curdling adventures to
relate, but just common, every-day facts, such
as enter into the ordinary life of a trapper.
Young men fond of life in the woods and its at-
12 PREFACE
tendant pleasures may find herein some hints that
may prove useful. To older sportsmen, the book
will, I hope, recall pleasant remembrances of
days gone by. The few words of family history
in the opening chapter, entitled Early Life,
have been deemed necessary in order to avoid ex-
planations and repetitions later on.
^Napoleon A. Comeau.
Carlp Xtfe
ifJf|Y father was a fur trader. When sixteen
Jlvl years old he entered the service of the
Northwest Company. In 1821, when the union
of the Northwest Company and the Hudson
Bay Company took place, my father, like
many others, entered the service of the H. B.
Company, remaining with it for forty years.
During that period he had charge of numerous
posts, from the St. Maurice region to Ungava,
since it was a sort of rule or custom with the
Company to move its agents from post to post
every four or five years. It thus happened that
I was born at one of the small Hudson Bay
posts, at Jeremie Islands, long since abandoned.
Northwest River, Hamilton Inlet, was one of
the posts where we made the longest stay, having
lived there for seven years. I was the oldest of
a family of twelve children, eight boys and four
girls. My good mother used to tell me, when I
was a child, that they had found me on the beach
alongside of a salmon. (The stork had no
chance so far north) . There was something pro-
phetic in her words, because I have been closely
associated with salmon all my life. The pre-
sent season (1909) will complete my forty-ninth
year as private guardian of the Godbout, one of
14 EARLY LIFE
the best salmon rivers, for angling purposes, in
the Dominion of Canada. Through the courtesy
of the proprietors, Messrs. Law & Manuel, I ap-
pend elsewhere the synopsis of a complete record
of the angling scores from 1859 to the present
day. In 1879 I was appointed by the Federal
Government a Fishery Officer for the Division
of Godbout, which position I still hold. Pre-
vious to this apointment I had the lease of several
net fishing stations, the average yield of which
was about ten thousand pounds of salmon, so that
in my days I have seen and handled thousands of
these fish. But more of this anon, as I am di-
gressing.
I presume that up to the age of four or five
years I grew up like the majority of boys, but af-
ter that period my life was out of the ordinary
routine of most white children. The members of
the Agent's family at a Hudson's Bay post, espe-
cially in the days when I was a child, were the
only whites in the neighborhood, and sometimes
they were not entirely of that color, for not infre-
quently the agent was married to a half-breed or
pure Indian woman. Naturally, therefore, I
had no other playmates than the Esquimaux,
Nascapie, or Montagnais boys, just as we hap-
pened to be located. Our principal amusement
was running about in the puddles left at low
tides, spearing fish. The spears we made our-
selves with nails, bones, and sometimes entirely
EARLY LIFE 16
of wood. These last were very much like the
grains used on vessels. A hard piece of wood
was selected, the end split into four or six pieces,
small wedges inserted to open out the points,
and these afterwards sharpened. They were
very deadly on small fish like caplin or sand-
eels, frequently impaling three or four in one
throw. We used the iron pointed ones to kill
such fish as flounders, lump fish, sculpins and
rock-eels, and sometimes crabs and an odd lob-
ster. We did not care much for the two latter,
as we were afraid of the claws. Other favorite
sports were setting snares for small game, mak-
ing dead falls and chasing birds with the bow
and arrow. This sort of thing continued till I
was seven years old when a big event took place.
For my birthday gift my father gave me a gun;
not a wooden or tin toy gun, but a real gim that
could be loaded with powder and shot ! How de-
lighted I was ! Never shall I forget that day ! I
had no appetite for the good things my mother
had prepared for me, but thought only of the
gun. That night I hardly slept at all, and when
I did sleep, would dream of that fine gun, a des-
cription of which may interest my readers. It
was what was usually called a Hudson Bay trade
gun, a flint lock of 28 bore, with a stock of good
strong hard wood which extended the whole
length of the barrel. Every part of the gun was
as strong as possible, and it was a very rare thing
16 EARLY LIFE
to see one of them broken or out of order. They
used to be made by the firm of Parker, Field &
Son, of Sheffield, England. This particular one
of mine was nearly new. It had been used by an
Indian on a caribou himt, and had burst, through
a bullet sticking half way down the barrel. My
father had filed off the end, which left the barrel
only about fifteen inches long. Up to fifteen
yards the pattern was fairly good, but beyond
that distance it scattered very much. It had
good penetration, because the shot then in use
on the coast was very large, — BB and AAA; and
even to this day some old hunters will not use
anything smaller than BB shot. Fifteen to
twenty pellets was a fair load. With such an
outfit it was surprising to see the quantity of
birds of all kinds that I managed to bring home;
many of them, however, not on the game list.
They were all killed by pot shots and by dint of
crawling on hands and knees, and lying in watch
for hours at a time. Many an anxious moment
did my poor mother have on my account, thinking
me lost in the woods or the victim of some acci-
dent. Very often my father, or some one else
would be sent to hunt me up. I am thankful to
say that I never met with an accident, thanks,
probably, to the very good training I had received
from my father, who was a good shot himself,
and fond of shooting and fishing. Several places
EARLY LIFE 17
where he used to fish and shoot still bear his
name.
When I was about nine years old we moved to
Mingan. There I met Mr. Peter McKenzie,
who was then junior clerk at that post ; a most ar-
dent sportsman, and who grew to be a crack shot.
Many were the outings we had together. In win-
ter there were thousands of ptarmigan, within
two miles of the place, especially at the entrance
of the river and around the island near Mingan
Falls. There were ruffed grouse also, though
these were rather scarce. Spruce partridges and
hares (common American hare) which we both
shot and snared, were abundant. During the
spring and fall migrations, game birds, such as
geese, black ducks, pintails, golden eye, teal, cur-
lews and various kinds of plovers were there in
abundance. Around the islands off the coast,
were numberless sea birds, many varieties of which
bred on the islands, notably the eider duck, guUi-
mots, murres and gulls. On the Perriquet group
were two immense colonies of the ''Solan geese"
or **gannet" StUa Bassana, and the common
puffin, FraterctUa Artica^ On aproaching the
islands, these puffins would rise in such num-
bers as to look like a cloud, and to actually ob-
scure the sun. When the weather was suitable,
Peter McKenzie and I went out to the islands to
collect eggs and shoot ducks for the use of the
Post. It was no unusual thing for us to bring
18 EARLY LIFE
back two or three barrels of eggs in one trip. Al-
though we collected all kinds indiscriminately,
those most sought after and preferred were the
puffins' and eiders' eggs. The puffins' nests were
easy to find, as they are merely burrows, two or
three feet long in the soft soil or guano. Only
one egg was laid in each burrow. The eiders'
nests were more difficult to find, being built in the
thick scrub or dense patches of black spruces of
stunted growth, with long branches right down
to the ground. They seldom built on the out-
skirts, but had little runways resembling those
of the rabbit, leading to the nest, twenty-five or
thirty yards further. When alarmed they never
took flight from the nest, but they would run
along those paths till they reached open ground.
They lie very close, and by crawling along cau-
tiously, I frequently caught them with my hands
just as they would attempt to leave the nest.
From five to seven fine large eggs was the average
number to each nest, but in some few cases there
were more ; ten is the largest number I ever
found. I was very successful in this kind of
sport, as owing to my small size I could crawl
about with ease in the thick underbrush. When
we tired of this egg collecting, we would go and
have a shoot. All we had to do was to sit quiet
on the end of a point of rocks near the seashore
and the birds would fly past us and over us in
hundreds. If we wanted pot shots it was also
EARLY LIFE 19
easy to approach the large flocks that were sitting
either on the rocks or in the water. Even with
the small loads that we were forced to use in such
small bores we frequently got twenty or more
birds in one shot. There were always a lot of
spare guns at the Post, and as they were all sin-
gle barrelled flint locks, we would take out three
or four each, re-loading as fast as we could in
the moments between shots. Whenever one of the
guns got too dirty to use, which we generally
found out by the ramrod beginning to stick in the
barrel, it would be laid aside until we had the
whole lot dirty. Then we would boil a large ket-
tle full of fresh water, clean up the whole outfit
and begin over again. Half a boat load full of
birds was about the usual quantity we brought
in. This would be about four to five hundred
birds, eiders, scooters, puffins, murres, gulls, &c.
Nothing of all this mass of birds was ever lost.
What would not be used at the Post was given
away to the Indians; the feathers being returned
to the Agent to pay for the ammunition. Peter
and I used such an awful quantity that I do not
think the H. B. Co. ever made much money from
the proceeds of our shooting.
In the proper season there was also some fine
salmon and trout fishing in the Mingan river,
but my father and his visitors, or officers from
the men-of-war on the station were about the only
ones who could indulge in salmon fishing. I was
20 EARLY LIFE
not allowed to touch his salmon rod or flies, and
considered myself lucky when I got even trout
flies, so I had to be satisfied with trout and bait
fishing. On the Manitou, a branch of the Min-
gan, there was excellent trout fishing, with trout
of large size.
I had a very narrow escape from drowning in
the Mingan river. I was then ten years old, and
having always lived so far north there had been
little opportunity of learning how to swim, owing
to the water being so cold at all seasons of the
year. In fact, for this same reason, very few of
the natives or whites born on the coast learn to
swim. At Mingan, however, we found an im-
provement in this respect, for the water in the
river would become fairly warm in July and
August, and I made the most of it. One day we
had a visit from Mr. Richard Nettle, Inspector
of Fisheries, accompanied by his son, at that time
a lad of about fourteen years. We made friends
together and I proposed that we should go in for
a swim; so we repaired to the river. There was
a short portage behind the Post, which led to a
point on the bank where it was very steep with
deep water close in to it. It was not a very suit-
Able place for beginners, but we never thought of
the danger. Young Nettle could not swim much
more than I did, and that was just about suflB-
cient to keep myself afloat for a couple of min-
utes. After one of these attempts at a swim, and
EARLY LIFE 21
being tired out, I let my feet down to gain b6t-
tom, which I reached, but with two feet or more
of water over my head. I gave a push on the
bottom and came to the surface, but only for a
moment, and went down again. Then I realized
that I was apparently going to be drowned, and
the thought occurred to me of trying to reach
shore by moving along the bottom on all fours,
which I did, as 1 could see the shelving banks
within a few feet of me. My life was thus saved.
In the meantime. Nettle, who saw that I was in
danger of drowning, had been running around on
the beach trying to find something to throw out
to me or to drag me ashore with; but unluckily
there was nothing at hand, and I would certainly
have drowned had I not thought of the expedient
above described. It was a lesson that I never
forgot, and I was careful afterwards in selecting
the places where I went in to bathe. In the
course of time I grew to be a very strong swim-
mer and a good diver, of which I shall have occa-
sion to speak in some future chapter.
And so time wore on until I was eleven years
old, shooting, fishing and canoeing, with not a
care on my brow, and free as the air that I
breathed. Those were happy days, indeed, but
like all good things of this world they could not
last forever. For me they came to a very abrupt
ending. It was in the month of June. A large
schooner bound to Quebec with a load of fish, oil
22 EARLY LIFE
and furs had entered the harbour. Captain
Kennedy, the owner, had come ashore, and ar-
rangements had been made for my passage on
board. I was roaming around as usual, and be-
ing sent for, on entering the room I was saluted
by these words from my father, "Alex, you must
go to school.*' This sentence kept ringing in my
ears all day. The schooner was to sail that same
night. My things were hurriedly packed, and
after wishing good-bye to all, with many kisses
and recommendations from my mother to be a
good boy, I was sent on board. The captain gave
me a comfortable berth in the cabin and told me
to turn in and have a good sleep. About mid-
night we got under weigh. I could not sleep a
wink all night. I did not cry either, but I was
feeling very dejected; it was all so sudden. Here
I was amongst utter strangers, rough sailors,
with a five hundred miles trip ahead of me and
all alone, and this question in my mind all the
time, what would school be like? Up to that
time I had never seen the inside of a school book
and could not speak a word of English, and I
was being sent to an English school, and to board
in an English family. It was enough to make an
older head than mine ponder. For two or three
days I was very quiet, and then I began to take
an interest in the sailing of the schooner and
watching the sailors do their work. The captain
was very kind, and did his best to encourage and
EARLY LIFE 23
cheer me up, and pretty soon my boyish spirits
returned. Our trip was long but uneventful; we
were delayed by calms and at other times head
winds, and passed several days at anchor, but
eventually reached Quebec, sixteen days after
leaving Mingan. My destination was Three
Rivers, and the Captain had orders to see me off
and pay my passage, &c., which he did on the
day after our arrival at Quebec. In the mean-
time I had taken advantage of this delay to run
around and see the sights; — ^my first glimpse of
a city. Many were the wonderful things that I
saw on that first day, not the least of which were
the big guns on the Ramparts, the gates with the
guards, and the sentinels on duty, with their
gaudy red uniforms. Their guns were especially
interesting, as they were the first percussion cap
guns that I had seen; — great big caps, like a
miniature beaver. How I longed to have a look
at them ! But I was too shy to ask. In due time
I reached Three Rivers, where I had some rela-
tives and a letter of introduction to the school
master, Mr. G. W. Lawler, who kept a Commer-
cial Academy. This was open all the year round,
with only a week's vacation at Christmas, and an
odd holiday or half-holiday on certain occa-
sions. I arrived on the 5th of July, and entered
school the next day, and left on the 30th of April
the next spring — ^ten months' schooling, which
was all I ever had the chance to get. Our family
24 EARLY LIFE
was pretty large, with three of the girls at a con-
vent, which about absorbed the whole of my
father's income. I was thankful for the little
that I got, and had made pretty good use of my
time, as when I left school I could read, write,
and speak pretty fair English. I had learned a
good many other things also, outside of Lawler's,
some of which were more or less useful. I will
give one instance. Several people of the weal-
thier class owned large lots of ground, portions
of which were not built upon, and had planted
these with fruit-bearing trees, cherries, plums,
and apples, while in some few places were large
walnut trees. Others had vegetable gardens,
bordered with smaller fruits and melon patches.
It was a regular thing for the pupils of Lawler's
class as we were called, to raid these plots, and
carry off a lot of fruit, which was afterwards
divided among the boys at some convenient point.
Some of the boys had been caught and punished,
and in one case had been brought into court and
damages paid by the parents. This only made
matters worse, however, as the whole class vowed
vengeance, which was exercised in many ways,
such as breaking down trees, smashing glass, &c.
I was soon initiated into all these little details,
the place of meeting, and so on, and I learned
these things quite as fast, and even faster than
my lessons. Generally, only three or four of us
went out together. A couple would pick the
EARLY LIFE 25
fruit and the others stand guard and give a sig-
nal on the least appearance of danger. Dark
nights were selected for our operations, and as
the streets were poorly illuminated, (there were
no electric lights in those days), the chances of
escape were in our favor. Lots were always
drawn as to who should lead in these raids, and
I believe the wily little '*city chaps" took advan-
tage of my being a * 'tender foot" at their game
to arrange it so that the lot fell on me of tener than
was my turn.
It was in September and the melons were ripen-
ing, when it was agreed that we should take a
look around and find out where the best could be
got. After due deliberation the Rev. Dr. Wood's
patch was chosen, but the place was surrounded
with difficulties in the shape of a high stone wall,
surmounted by a piece of wood into which a row
of long and sharp iron nails had been driven.
The Rectory formed the southern portion of the
square, and some of its windows faced the gar-
den. About fifteen feet from the house, on the
inside of the wall, and quite close to it, there was
a large walnut tree, the heavy branches of which
extended over the wall and part of the street.
This was where my experience in boating and the
handling of ropes came in handy. Sufficient rope
was procured to make a sort of ladder with knots,
one end of which we threw over the limb by at-
taching a stone. Once on the heavy branch it was
26 EARLY LIFE
plain sailing. The rope was secured, dropped in-
side, and a run made for the melon patch. Four
were broken, there was a hurried retreat to the
tree, in the branches of which one of us always
kept watch, and was also ready to help in hand-
ing the melons over. We had been very success-
ful and escaped detection the first two nights,
but in the interval the gardener had discovered
where we had entered, and so he and the doctor
lay in wait for us. It was my time to lead that
third time, together with Alexander L. (two
Alexanders) . We got in as usual and were just
breaking off the melons when a sharp whistle was
heard, and looking up we saw two men coming
along the western wall. Our line of retreat was
thus cut off. The east side, however, was appar-
ently clear, so taking to our heels we fairly flew
over the ground, when suddenly, — ^my goodness!
what was that ? We had both been tripped and
come down head foremost. We were up and off
in a second, only to come down again. By this
time the gardener was upon us and the game was
up. All the alleys of the east side had been staked
over with clothes' lines about a foot high. The
old Doctor had been a boy at one time, and had
guessed exactly how we would act.
''What are you boys doing in my garden?'*
was his first greeting. '*Yoimg folks like you
should be in bed at this hour." (It was about 10
p.m.) ''What do you want? Who are you?"
EARLY LIFE 27
To all these questions we gave no answer.
**Come along with me/' he said, '*I want to
see your faces in the light/*
There were no means of escape and so we fol-
lowed and were ushered into his drawing room
where his good lady and two of his daughters
were sitting. We were in a sorry plight; our
clothes, hands and faces covered with dirt, in
our two successive falls in the garden.
, **My dear,'* said the old gentleman, **here are
two nice boys I wish to introduce to you, but I
don't know their names,** and turning to us he
said, **Will you please give themf*
We picked up a little courage, and muttered
our names.
''Hal Ha! Thanks. Now let me ask you again
what were you looking for in my garden?" We
had to confess that the melon patch was the cen-
tre of attraction.
'*Why, my dear boys, if that is all you want,
why don't you come and asK me for some. I will
supply you with all you can eat, and your friends
also," and to make us feel sure of his good in-
tentions towards us, addressing one of his daugh-
ers, he said: ''Martha, go and get a nice melon
for these young gentlemen." She soon returned
with a fine ripe melon and two beautiful porce-
lain plates, and helped us each to a good large
slice. "Now boys,** said the Doctor, * 'Don't be
bashful, eat all you wish, we have lots to spare."
28 EARLY LIFE
We made an attempt to eat, but somehow our
appetite for melons had waned, and most of the
slice remained on the plate. We were asked
many questions, our age, what school we attended
and so on, and in this way the old doctor kept us
on live coals for over an hour. He also told us
to advise all our friends to come and see him,
that he would be pleased to make their acquain-
tance, that he objected to our coming over the
wall at night, not because we ate his melons, but
on account of treading down some of his flowers
in the dark. Then conducting us to the door, he
bade us ''good night!"
The next day, after school hours, there was a
grand meeting of the Society, where we related
all the details of our capture, and it was ''Re-
solved unanimously: That the Reverend Dr.
Woods is a gentleman, and that his property is
to be respected from this day on.'*
None of us ever called on him for any melons.
iWp return from gcftool
JKkOWEVER obnoxious I might have made myself
f^ to the good citizens of Three Rivers, I
had earned by my attention and diligence in my
studies the good will of the school master. On
the day that I left school, he complimented me on
my application before the whole class and as a
mark of esteem, and with his best wishes, pre-
sented me with six fine books, five of which I have
kept to this day.
They were— * 'History of the World,'' 2 vols.,
by Samuel Mounder, 1855. **Comstock's Physio-
logy," 1853. The ''Works of Dean Swift," by
the Rev. John Mitford, 1850. "Chronicles of the
Bastille," a work just published, 1859, and a
(Compilation of Natural History, which I unfor-
tunately lost through tha burning of one of my
trapping camps.
On the 2nd of May I left Three Rivers to re-
turn home. I was to meet the family at Trinity
Bay, where my father had decided to settle. He
had left the H. B. Co.'s service owing to some
difference that had arisen between himself and
another chief trader, and to the desire of the com-
pany to send him back to Northwest River, where
he would not go. I had a long and tedious trip
down. On arriving in Quebec I was informed
30 MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL
that there would be no vessels sailing for the
North Shore before the 20th of the month, but
that if I was willing to go down to Riviere Quelle
I might have a chance to find a passage, as a Mr.
Tetu who owned some porpoise fisheries on the
. North Shore, was to leave shortly for that coast.
I accordingly made my way thither, where I was
most hospitably received by the Tetu family. I
was told by Mr. David Tetu, the owner of the
vessel, a sloop oi about thirty tons, that he would
be glad to oblige me with a free passage, pro-
vided I would wait a day or two while they
finished loading, and would in the meantime,
make myself at home with them. There was a
large general store connected with the establish-
ment, which I think was owned by Mr. Tetu, sr.,
where I spent most of my time, watching the
**habitants" bringing in their produce, and ex-
changing it for store goods.
The sailing was postponed from day to day,
and it was two weeks before we finaUy got start-
ed. Our first place of call was Point e a la Cari-
ole, where the porpoise fishery was being in-
augurated. There we remained a whole week,
unloading anchors, chains, ropes, nets, and other
gear and setting the fishery. Although there
were hundreds of porpoises aroimd every day,
only two were taken during our stay. Thence we
went to Escoumains, where we lay in harbour
four days, delayed by a strong easterly gale.
MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 31
Here we had a good time. I found that Mr. Tetu
was a sport and a good shot, and the owner of a
fine cap gun of 8 bore, a close and hard hitter and
so heavy that I could not put it up to my shoul-
der. Mr. Tetu had some relative, a cousin, I be-
lieve, living there, from whom he got the loan of a
light gun for me, and together we went every day
at low tides, on the eastern reefs, and always
came back loaded with game, black duck, teal and
plovers, and on one day two fine geese, which Mr.
T. had brought down at an enormous range with
his big gun. The weather having cleared up,
with expectations of a fair wind, we left Escou-
mains, and after making about twenty-five miles
had to seek shelter at Lavar Islands. The sloop
was light and a poor sailer, and we could do little
or nothing with head winds. All things must
come to an end, however, and so did my trip
down, finally reaching Trinity Bay on the 14th
of June, six weeks from Three Rivers. The trad-
ing schooner that had left Quebec about the 20th
of May had long since pased down. They had
brought the news of my having left early in May,
so at home they had nearly given up all hopes of
ever seeing me, thinking that we had been
wrecked on the way; consequently there was great
rejoicing on my safe return.
My father's object in settling at Trinity Bay
was to continue in the fur trade on his own ac-
count, and to operate a couple of salmon net
32 MY RETURN PROM SCHOOL
fishing stations which he had leased. At that
date there was nothing else to be done on the
coast, as it was called (which meant all the North
Shore of the St. Lawrence from Tadousac to
Belle Isle), but trading, huntii^ and fishing. Of
the first the H. B. Co. had tne monopoly, and no
one had ever succeeded in offering them any se-
rious opposition, the attempt generally ending
in loss to all who made it. Hunting and fishing
paid well in some years, but there was a great
deal of uncertainty about it. Shortly after my
return home I was given to understand all this by
my father. He advised me that he could not
afford to send me back to school, that if I chose
to work I could stay at home and help in the fish-
ing and in the winter go out trapping. If not I
had better return to Quebec or Three Rivers and
try to find some work there that would suit me.
It was a serious proposition for a boy of thir-
teen, who knew little or nothing of city life, be-
yond what I had seen while at school. I elected
to stay and try trapping, which I followed after-
wards for fifteen years as a professional. Pre-
vious to this I had never worked, more than for
my amusement, or sometimes helping in the store
at Mingan during trading times, and that was
an easy job, my principal work being to measure
out Jamaica rum, huge puncheons of which were
sold to the crews of sealing schooners when they
returned from their trips. For a couple of years
MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 33
the Hudson Bay Company bought all or most of
the seals that were captured by the Esquimaux
Point sealing vessels, and this amounted to sev-
eral thousands, each of which was worth at that
time, about four dollars. The skinning, salting
the skins, cutting up the blubber and rendering
the oil, all done by hand, required much labor,
and for four or five weeks the Post had a very ani-
mated appearance. I found salmon fishing
pretty hard work compared to these times. I
had to rise at daybreak and begin the work of
visiting and cleaning the nets, carrying the fish
up to the curing house, splitting and washing
them carefully, and then salting them down in
big vats, where they were left to cure in the pickle
for four weeks and then packed in barrels. Two
or more visits were made carefully according to
the quantity of fish running, and rain or shine,
this had to be done. Whenever any gale threat-
ened we had to raise the nets and bring them
ashore to prevent them from being torn to pieces
by the heavy sea, and we were frequently swamp-
ed by the surf on landing. The beach was a fine
sandy one, and we did not mind that much. To
help me in this work I had one of my brothers,
nine years old, and a lad of sixteen, named
Simard, whom we had hired for the season.
It was during this, my first year at Trinity
Bay, that I killed one of the largest hooded seals
that I ever saw. It happened in this way. We
34 MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL
kept a cow for the needs of the family, and as
there was very little grass in the vicinity, the
house being on a rocky point, she would some-
times stray quite a distance either in the woods
or along the beach. Simard being a stranger with
no experience in the woods, the task of hunting
her up devolved upon me. On that particular
morning I found her tracks led along the beach
where there were some small coves and good feed.
I was going along carelessly when, on jumping
down from a small cliff, I nearly did so on top
of a huge seal that was lying alongside the rock.
It reared at me and let out an awful bellow that
made me jump out of its way. I had no gun
with me or any other weapon, but there were lots
of small stones near, with which I began to pelt
it. I kept this up for some minutes without any
perceptible effect other than irritating it, and
causing it to attempt to move down towards the
sea. The tide was nearly low and the rocks dry
for about a hundred yards out, and I noticed that
it seemed to move with diflBculty over them. I
was not very far from the house, so I thought I
had better run for the gun. To my sorrow I
found it was not there. My father, having had
occasion to go out with my brother and Simard,
had taken it with him. Answering my mother's
questions as to the cause of this hurry, I rushed to
the wood pile for an axe and hurried back. The
seal had moved down about half way to the water.
MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 35
but was still on the dry rocks. There was no
sea weed, otherwise it would have got the better of
me. I tackled it immediately. It was very
furious, raising on its four flippers, and making
vicious lunges at me by extending its long neck.
Its hod was inflated, giving it a fierce appear-
ance, and it turned to face me whenever I tried
to get near it. Now and then I would get in a
whack on its head with the sharp edge of the
axe, until I finally stunned it, and then it was
quick work to finish it. I very much regret that
I did not know enough then to have kept measure-
ments of this specimen. It was certainly twelve
feet long, and though not very fat, the blubber
alone weighed six hundred pounds, equal to
forty-five gallons of rendered oil. From what I
have learned about seals since, this would repre-
sent a total weight of about fourteen hundred
pounds. It had been slightly wounded by large
shot, and later on attacked by ''Greenland
sharks,' ' as the flippers bore marks of their teeth.
It had then probably sought to escape them by
getting on shore, where it had remained since
high water that night. On cutting its stomach
open I found some renmants of fish, principally
small halibut or large flounders, and a bucketful
of stones, all about the size of ordinary potatoes.
These he had swallowed after being ashore, as
they were similar to those in the vicinity.
44
UnaccottntablM; '' anh otber gftott
(9j( T the rifle range and elsewhere a bad miss is
)^ generally put down as an ' 'unaccountable. ' '
In my experience, and I am sure in that of others
also, many hits might well go under the same
headilig. It is of these particular shots that I
wish to write, citing only such as I have made
personally, or have seen fired.
While out trapping with one of my brothers,
about the end of September, we had occasion to
cross a small lake. My brother was steering the
birch bark canoe. When within about three hun-
dred yards of the shore I noticed a solitary black
duck swimming back and forth near the edge of
the lake, which was fringed with a dense growth
of willows. These birds are very shy and can rare-
ly be approached within range in the open. We
had no blind in our canoe, but seeing that the bird
did not appear to notice us, I took in my paddle
and allowed my brother to work the canoe towards
him quietly. I had a single barrel Hudson Bay
Co. gun of 28 bore, loaded with half an ounce of
BB shot. I was out for meat and not for sport,
and I only fired when about 25 yards off. All
this time the bird had never paid the slightest
attention to us. After picking up the duck, and
while turning the canoe, we heard some rustling
« UNACXX)UNTABLES " AND OTHER SHOTS ^7
in the clump of willows some thirty yards fur-
ther. On going in to investigate, I found a red
fox kicking around in his death struggles. One
pellet of shot only had struck it near the eye. The
fox was probably what had drawn the duck's at-
tention, but we had not seen it.
Pointe des Monts, Guli of St. Lawrence, is a
favorite place for seal hunting. The season be-
gins about the 10th of December and ends in
April, when the ice disappears. For many years
I devoted a good deal of time to this sport, which
was very interesting and remunerative. One day
late in March I was out as usual. The day had
been very fine, but seals were scarce, and what
few we had seen, very shy. All the seal hunters
in those days used shot guus, loaded with treble
A or SSG. shot. I was the only one there who
owned a rifle, a Kentucky Ballard, of 46 bore,
rim fire cartridges, sighted up to 500 yards. The
cartridge was a short one, with a rather heavy
bullet, which, though very accurate at short
range, gave it a very high trajectory at long
ones, making it exceedingly difficult to hit any
small object, if there was any error in judging
distance. We had just decided to return ashore,
when Mr. F. Poulin, who was out shooting also,
come alongside of us to enquire about our luck.
While chatting together a seal bobbed up at about
600 yards. '*Look at that beggar,'' said Poulin;
''give him a shot to make him show his flippers.''
38 " UNAOCOUNTABLES V AND OTHER SHOTS
I told him the distance was to great to come any-
where close to him, but that he would hear the
bullet whiz anyway. Without bothering with the
sights at all, I raised the rifle and fired. Poulin,
who was watching for the splash of the bullet,
suddenly exclaimed, ''you have hit it!" And
sure enough, when we paddled up to it, there it
lay stone dead, with the bullet hole fair in the
middle of the head. It was a two years old
Greenland seal, the skull of which would give a
target of three inches in diameter. Shot off-
hand, and from a moving canoe, such a shot
might not be repeated in a hundred thousand
rounds.
Most Quebec sportsmen will remember an old
man named Morasse, who lived at St. Raymond,
now a considerable village on the Lake St. John
R.R. The old chap was farmer and trapper com-
bined. He kept some very fine and good cocker
spaniels, and many were the ruffed grouse they
found and treed for him. Parties used to come
and stay with him, going out along the Ste. Anne
River and in the surrounding mountains. They
never came back empty-handed. In September,
1880, I think it was, I was invited by two of my
Quebec friends, Messrs. E. N. Chinic and L.
Noel, to join such a shooting party. As there
was a possibility of our coming across some very
big game, I was told to bring my rifle, as well as
a gun. We drove up in a buckboard, and in some
" UNACCOUNTABLES ." AND OTHER SHOTS 39
way during the trip, the hammer of Mr. Noel's
gun, a single-barrelled one, dropped oflp and was
lost. As I really preferred carrying a rifle I
forced him to accept the use of my gun. We had
good sport, getting over a dozen fine grouse the
first day and as many more during the remaining
two days we spent there. We used to shoot turn
about, and whenever it was my turn, old Morasse
took great delight in watching me cut the bird's
heads off with the rifle, and just for amusement
would often request me to shoot at anything he
could sight. We had to cross the Ste. Anne's
River, and just opposite his residence there was a
short stretch of dead water, where the old man
had a scow. Coming over, on the second day, a
king-fisher flew past us, and alighted on an over-
hanging branch some distance up. ''Quick,
shoot," said Morasse, ''kill that poacher." "All
right," I answered, "just watch him. I will put
the bullet through his eye," and very strange to
say, it was exactly what happened. The bullet
had gone quite through both eyes. On measuring
the distance we found it was ninety-two yards.
"He must be linked with the Evil one," exclaim-
ed Morasse, when he saw where the bird was hit.
I imagined he looked upon me with dread after
that, and he told that story many times. Poor
old man, I was extremely sorry to hear that some
few years later he had accidentally killed himself
in taking his gun out of his scow. Reading the
40 " UNAOCOUNTABLES '! AND OTHER SHOTS
above, no one must imagine that I aimed for the
bird's eye, for hitting it anywhere at that range
would have been a creditable shot. It was simply
an '^unaccountable.''
What I consider as the most extraordinary
shot that I ever saw, was made by Francis Labrie,
a fisherman and hunter of this locality. The
rifle used was a Winchester Express of 50 caL,
with hollow pointed bullets, the shells loaded by
himself, and as he had no copper tubes to fill the
hollow points, he had filled these with common
tallow. I give these details, as they may have
been responsible to some extent for the peculiar
shot.
There were two loons, (Great Northern divers)
sitting on the water some distance off shore.
Labrie was decoying them in by calling and wav-
ing a white rag. No amount of coaxing, how-
ever, could bring them in closer than about one
hundred yards. One of them turned and began
swimming out until it was separated about fif-
teen or twenty yards seawards, and half that
distance to the right. Labrie was near the water's
edge, and seeing that he could not get them closer,
fired at the nearest one. I was standing near by
watching him. The shot was too low, the bullet
striking the water four or five yards from the
loon, richotted and struck the first loon on the
head, was deviated to the right and cut the neck
of the second loon. A most wonderful colnbina-
" UNAOCOUNTABLES " AND OTHER SHOTS 41
tion of circumstances, from what was originally a
''miss/' Slosson, the champion billiard player,
is not in it with Labrie !
The late Col. Allan Gilmour^ of Ottawa, was
very much devoted to rifle shooting, and was a
good shot himself. When coming down to their
salmon fishing on the Godbout, he and his partner
in the preserve, Mr. David Law, of Montreal,
would each bring down a rifle, and when the fish
were not taking, they would get up a friendly
rifle match. On one of those occasions, some of
tnc men had placed on the rock, a white china jug
that had been partly broken. Although there was
a regular target put up, most of the shooting was
done at unknown ranges, at cans, bottles, stones,
tree tops, etc. The range of the jug was about
275 yards, and as all the shooting was off hand,
it was a very small mark. Mr. Gilmour, the
guests and I had each taken five shots, and the
jug was still standing, when Mr. David Law,
who very seldom took part in the shooting, said,
**Let me have one shot.*' Without any attention
to the elevation of the sights, he raised the rifle
and fired, and to the astonishment of all present,
the jug was smashed to atoms. I believe this was
the last shot he ever fired, but it was a fine one,
though I class it too among the * 'unaccountable'*
hits.
As it would not be fair to mention the hits only,
I wish to put on record also two unaccountable
misses.
42 " UNAOCOUNTABLES " AND OTHER SHOTS
Early in May, 1882, 1 happened to be at Pointe
des Monts, detained there by a strong south-east
wind. The spring migration of ducks was at its
height, and they were passing in thousands,
principally three varieties of the scooter family
the surf, velvet and white wing. Wherever food
was abundant huge flocks would congregate and
sit and watch for hours, diving and feeding.
Just opposite the Pointe des Monts lighthouse
there was one such flock, which at a very low esti-
mate, must have contained from twelve to fifteen
thousand birds. It looked like an immense raft
of sea weed, rising and falling with an undulat-
ing motion in the heavy swell. My host, Mr. L.
F. Fafard, who was the lighthouse keeper then,
said, '*Comeau, why don't you take a shot?" I
told him it was out of range for my gun, and be-
sides that I had only No. 4 and 6 shot, which at
that distance, a little over two hundred yards,
would be absolutely useless. He pondered for a
wnile, and apparently a bright idea struck him :
''Why don't we try the big gun?'' What he
meant by this, was a 9-pounder cannon, used at
the station as a signal gun. I have a bag of S.S.
G. shot here, he said, which you can have, and
you must try a shot. So the big gim was loaded.
I put in two pounds of powder, an immense wad
of oakum, and then about half the bag of shot,
12^ pounds, and a light wad. Sighting the gun
carefully about the middle of the mass of ducks.
" UNAOCOUNTABLES !.' AND OTHER SHOTS 43
I fired and rushed out of the gun house to see the
execution. There was a cloud of birds rising and
a roar of wings and whistling, but not a feather
remained on the water. Perhaps some one versed
in the science of gunnery could tell me why, but I
could never account for that miss.
Trapping one winter on the head waters of
the Trinity River, I located three caribou not
very far from one of our camps. It was early in
January, and there was not very much snow on
the ground, a couple of feet or so, and that little
was too hard for good hunting. The caribou
were feeding on a small range of barren moun-
tains, where it was almost impossible to stalk
them. Rifles were unknown on the coast in those
days, and I had only a flint lock Hudson Bay
Co. gun of 28 bore, fairly reliable for short
ranges, but requiring too many allowances at
long ones. For rapid firing we used to have the
touch hole of these gims pretty large, and by
using fine powder, generally FFF, on pouring
the load in, the gun would prime itself. When
after caribou or other large game we carried a
few bullets in the mouth. Immediately after fir-
ing a shot, the gun was put at half-cock, the pan
closed, a charge of powder poured in, then the
muzzle brought to the mouth, a. wet bullet drop-
ped in, and we were ready. No wadding was
used at all, the wet bullet being suflBcient to make
44 " UNACXX)UNTABLES " AND OTHER SHOTS
it hold in place. Once in a while a gun would
burst from the ball sticking along the barrel, but
considering the number of these guns in use and
the quantity of shots fired, it is surprising that
this did not happen oftener. An Indian family
was camped in our vicinity, and as we were all
short of meat, I got the old man and his two sons
to join in the hunt. There was a small lake near
the mountain where the caribou were, with a long
narrow gorge leading down to the main river. It
was decided that I was to take my stand at the
entrance of this coulee, my brother and the three
Indians were to surround them on the opposite
side, and if possible, get a shot or drive them on
to the lake in my direction. Guns were cleaned,
snowshoe strings examined, and everything got
ready for an early start. I had a long detour to
make, so started early in order to take my posi-
tion, before the game was started. I selected a
good place, about ten yards from the middle of
the gorge, tramping tne snow down carefully so
as to have a secure footing. After a time I heard
two shots; then three more. ''Confound them,*'
I thought, ''there won't be any left for me." I
was soon re-assured, however, as I saw the three
caribou coming at full speed on the lake. I had
loaded my gun, as described, made sure the prim-
ing was good, and stood ready. The big male
was leading with a yearling right alongside ot
him. I waited until they were both in line, aimed
" UNAOCOUNTABLES " AND OTHER SHOTS 46
for the shoulders and fired. My! what was the
matter ? They did not drop, but went on, appar-
ently untouched. I was so taken aback by this,
that I never thought of reloading my gun till
they were out of range. I had shot and missed
two caribou at ten yards distance. It was not
buck fever either, as I had passed that stage long
before. I examined the snow on the opposite side
of the gorge, but could find no trace of the bullet.
Where it went to has always been a mystery to
me. My brother and the Indians soon arrived,
and I told them what had happened. They said
nothing, but I could see by their looks that my
reputation as a good shot had suffered consider-
ably. They had killed nothing either. There
were only three caribou in the band, and they had
gQt wind of them at a long distance. They had
shot more to drive them down to the lake than
anything else. Not discouraged. Old Crepo,
such was the Indian's name, started on their
trail, followed them all day and part of the
night, when he took a short rest, started again,
and came up with them early in the morning and
killed the whole three. There was no trace of my
shot in them. There is a possibility that the ball
may have dropped out of my gun before I fired.
Who knows ? Of course, in a lifetime, I have had
many other strange and lucky shots, some of
which I may mention in other portions of this
book, but those reported above, I consider remark-
able ones — and deserving of special notice.
i^lioottttg acctbente
^^% OT a single hunting season closes without
,3fA the occurence of a number of fatal acci-
dents. Some of them, no doubt, may be classed
as unavoidable, such as might arise, for instance,
by the glancing of a bullet from a branch or tree
and consequent deviation from the original line
of flight. But fully two-thirds of them happen
through carelessness or from insufl&cient know-
ledge of the use and range of fire arms. Coming
down on the Saguenay boat in September, 1899,
I was watching a tourist firing, with a high-
power rifle, at all sorts of objects on the water,
without any regard to the direction, and
twice I called his attention to the fact that he was
aiming in the direction of some settlements, not
more than a thousand yards distant. He did not
appear to have the slightest idea of the range of
one of these modern rifles. Whether this was due
to ignorance or to some defect of vision on his
part I cannot say, but there certainly was dan-
ger to those in the vicinity of such a man. - I have
sen others handling loaded guns and rifles just
as if they were broomsticks, shifting them around
all the points of the compass, without seeming to
know that they were a menace to the life of their
friends.
SHOOTING ACCIDENTS 47
In the old muzzle-loading days there was some
excuse for carrying a loaded weapon back to camp
or house as the case might be, on account of the
trouble of extracting loads, especially bullets, but
now, with breech loaders, they are so quickly
loaded and unloaded, that really there is no ex-
cuse for handling any loaded fire arms in camp or
in any other such place, unless actually necessary
at the moment. When out shooting in a canoe,
the gun should always be unloaded previous to
landing. The few fatal accidents that have oc-
cured on the coast have been due to neglect of this
precaution, or to taking hold of the gun by the
muzzle, or near it, and dragging it out. Nervous
or excitable persons should refrain from joining
a hunting party, and in fact should not be per-
mitted to form part of it. On one occasion, at
Seal Eeef, near L* Islet, one of our party of five
had that failing, and as it had been commented
upon, every one gave him a wide berth, at which
he seemed offended. The sequel proved that we
were right, because in the first morning's shoot-
ing his gun went off accidentally four times. A
careful sportsman can avoid nearly all the above
dangers, because he can soon size up his compan-
ions and act accordingly. Once in a while the
careless or nervous sport will manage to kill him-
self, but as a rule it is his companions who suffer.
I was reading last year (1907) that the hunting
casualites in Michigan and Wisconsin amounted
48 SHOOTING ACCIDENTS
to one hundred and seventeen, nearly half of
which were fatal. Now, from what little experi-
ence I have in hunting, I would assuredly put
down one hundred of the above to carelessness
and recklessness in shooting or handling fire
arms. On the North Shore here, say from Ber-
simis to Natashquan, I estimate that we have
about two thousand live hundred persons hand-
ling fire arms, six months out of the twelve, with
an average percentage of one fatal accident in
five years. Of those that I know of, one was
killed by falling with his loaded gun, two were
killed in pulling a muzzle-loading gun out of a
canoe, one was killed while loading his gun, a
double barrelled one, the stock of which was rest-
ing on his snowshoes and slipping off struck the
hammer on the frame of the shoe, causing the ex-
plosion. One was killed by his brother going
over a fence with his loaded gun. Some few
minor accidents have occurred through the burst-
ing of cheap guns, and from stray pellets of shot
while shooting seals, ducks, or ptarmigan. But
in fifty years I have heard of only one case,
that of the Indian Chief **Natsishuk," where a
man was shot at by mistake for game, and as he
was wrapped up in the skin of a seal there was
some excuse. But in my opinion there is none for
the — what shall I call him? The fool who
shoots at anything he sees moving, without first
ascertaining what it is. I have hunted all my
SHOOTING ACCIDENTS 49
life, and with the exception of the musk ox and
polar bear, have shot about every other kind of
mammal that we have in the temperate zone of
North America, from a whale down to a shrew,
and I do not remember ever having lost one single
opportunity for a shot, by waiting to make sure
of what I was going to shoot at.
Surely there must be some means of putting a
stop to, or at least of lessening this yearly sacri-
fice of human life. The sportsman that knows
that he is too excitable and nervous to control
himself should stay at home. I would suggest
that placards in big type, pretty much in the
same style as ^Tire Notices**, be put up by game
wardens and bush rangers in the most conspicu-
ous places in the woods, and at railway stations,
all over the country. Somethmg like the follow-
ing might be printed on them by the Govern-
ment:
"NOTICE TO SPORTSMEN
Remember that you have a dangerous weapon in
your hands and not a broomstick.
Don't forget that there are others in the woods
and around you whom you may kill or wound by
your carelessness.
Because you are out in the wilds, don't blaze
away at everything you see. If you want target
practice go to the proper place for it. Don't
shoot at anything before being positively certain
what it is.
60 SHOOTING ACCIDENTS
Leave other sportsmen's weapons alone.
Leave the whiskey bottle at home.
Always remove the shells from your gun or
rifle as soon as they are not wanted/'
If some simple rules like the above were ob-
served, many a life would be saved, and if what I
write can save even one life I shall have been well
repaid.
gippomteli guarlimn of ''^oliftout''
/^BOUT the 10th of July, 1860, a special mes-
/C* senger arrived at Trinity Bay. He was the
bearer of a message to my father from the Rev.
Dr. W. Agar Adamson, who was then with
some friends salmon fishing on the Godbout river.
He explained that trouble had occurred between
the party and a few Indians, who insisted on
spearing fish in the river, and his presence was
urgently requested. My father was a Justice of
the Peace, and being an ex-officer of the Hudson
Bay Company, had considerable influence over
the Indians. He was also a personal friend of
the Doctor's, whom he frequently met on his angl-
ing trips. I was ordered to prepare the canoe
and some little provisions, kettle and axe, and to
get ready to accompany him, as our net fishing
was then over. We had fifteen miles to paddle
along a very bold and rocky shore, where even a
moderate wind might delay us. Luck favored us
that day and we reached Godbout in five hours.
Some of the Indians came to meet us on our ar-
rival, and it was decided to hold a ''pow-wow"
at the anglers' camp, a mile and a half up the
river that same afternoon. We then proceeded
to *'Camp," where the Doctor and his friends
had their tents, with a small British flag waving
52 APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT!!
over them. There were four in the party, the
Doctor and three English oflBcers : Captain Holy-
oake, Colonel Charteris and Major Howard.
They complained of poor sport on account of the
Indians having netted the best **pool/' and hav-
ing speared at night in some of the others. My
father then told them that he had seen the
offenders and that they were to be there
shortly. They came at the appointed time,
and explained that they were short of food,
and that the Hudson's Bay Company, whose
post had recently been closed, had always
allowed them to fish, &c. They promised good
behaviour if some food was given them, and a
promise that no proceedings would be taken
against them. This was agreed to by the Doc-
tor. A barrel of pork and some other things
were given them, a shaking of hands took place
all round, and the matter was so well adjusted
that with one exception no more trouble has oc-
curred there to this day. ''Now,'' said the Doc-
tor, addressing my father, *' there is another
thing that I wish to ask you, and that is to try
and find us a guardian for the river." He ex-
plained it would only be for a short time each
season, from the 15th of July to the end of
August, which covered the period the Indians
would be on the sea coast, as after that date they
would be inland, hunting. For the six weeks
guardianship he was willing to pay forty dollars.
APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GpDBOUT" 53
with the use of the Hudson Bay Company's de-
serted house as a residence. **Forty dollars/' I
thought to myself, *'that would buy me a cap
gun and some steel traps and ammunition."
''Papa/' I said, ''Will you let me stay?" The
kind doctor looked at me astonished. Why, he
said, a little lad like you, stay here alone. Are
you not afraid the Indians will scalp you?" I
answered that I was not afraid, that I knew the
Indians, had been with them all my life, and did
not think there would be any trouble. So I was
appointed guardian, which position I have filled
uninterruptedly till now. My duties did not en-
tail any hard work, and were just of the kind
that suited my fancy, — ^to be out in the woods and
canoeing. I had a mile and a half of river to
paddle or pole up, and then a walk of two miles
to reach the furthest "pool." I had been given
some lines and flies by the doctor, with permis-
sion to fish as much as I pleased. There was an
abundance of sea birds about, and plovers and
sand larks. There would be fine shooting. These
were very brilliant prospects to my young fancy,
and I did have a good time. Most of the day I
would be on the river, fishing for trout, of which
there were many, or else shooting on the sand
bar. I was alone in a great big house, and had
to do my own cooking, bake my bread, etc. In the
evenings or on stormy days I would sit and read
some of the books Mr. Lawler had given me, or
54 APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT"
any others that I could lay my hands on. I was
very fond of reading, and this practice I con-
tinued on my trapping trips, always having a
book or two with me. My father had a good sup-
ply of books, and from these I selected whatever
I fancied, to which he never made any objec-
tion. Books on travel, natural history and medi-
cine were my favorites. It was during these
months of my guardianship that I learned how
to swim and dive. The water was much warmer
than at any place I had hitherto been living at,
excepting Three Rivers, and I therefore took ad-
vantage of it, so much so that the natives used to
say that I was half seal. Some ridiculous stories
were told of my aquatic f^^ats, such as being able
to remain under water for half an hour or more
without breathing. There are many fishermen
who still believe this story, which I, of course,
never contradicted, and the origin of which was
as follows: ''Godbout Bay" was then a great re-
sort for cod, especially for what was designated
as the fall cod fishing. This would begin about
the 15th of August, and continue in some years
to October and November. Boats from Matane,
Green Island and other parts would congregate
here, and sometimes an occasional fishing schoon-
er from the States. One day a young fellow,
while washing his hands over the side of his boat,
dropped what was to him a valuable gold ring.
It was one of those old-fashioned flat rings, en-
Bird's- Eye View of the Lower Godbout
Falls at the Upper Pool of the Godbout
APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT" 55
graved on the outside, which he said had cost him
twelve dollars. He was very sorry about it and
lamenting his loss. Some of the residents advis-
ed him to come and see me, and that I could dive
for it. So he came, and I went out to his boat with
him. I took soundings with a cod line and found
twenty-one feet of water. I thought that was
easy enough and went in and got the ring on the
second dive. The next day it spread around
among the fishermen that I had brought up that
ring in six fathoms of water, and the more the
story was repeated, the deeper it got ! An old fish-
erman from Matane, named Creuset, took great
interest in watching me swim, dive and play
tricks in the water, such as upsetting my canoe
and getting back into it, pulling off my boots in
the water. He used to relate these things to his
friends. One Sunday afternoon, shortly after
the ring episode. I went down to the river for
my usual swim. Creuset, who saw me going,
called out to a lot of other fishermen to come and
watch me play my usual pranks. There were
about eight or ten fishing boats anchored in the
river, with sufficient distance betwen each to
allow them to swing clear. I was swimming lei-
surely when one of the men called out, * 'Let's
see you take a dive.'' I immediately thought of
playing them a tr^ck, and answered, *'all right,
here goes," and diving, headed for one of the
boats. Coming quietly up to the surface on
56 APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT"
the offside of the boat, I held on to one of the
side leg pins. After being there for two or three
minutes I made for another of the boats further
down, to which I clung again for a while. By
this time several of the men were getting quite
anxious. I could hear their exclamations. Some
said: ''he is drowned, sure!*' Others thought I
had been hurt on some anchor or fouled in one of
the ropes. Creuset, however, was maintaining
that I was all right. At last some of them could
stand it no longer in spite of Creuset' s assur-
ance, and said, ''let us hurry down and look for
him." As soon as I heard them get into the small
boat, I let go and made as good a dive as I could
towards the western side of the river (they were
on the east side. ) On coming up I turned on my
back and began singing a Canadian boat song,
"C'est la belle Francoise.'' I never saw anyone
more astonished than those fellows were. They
simply stood there gaping, and old Creuset was
exclaiming, "Didn't I tell you so? He's a regu-
lar seal!"
While on this subject I will relate another ex-
perience of mine that occurred some years later.
Mr. Allan Gilmour, one of the former proprie-
tors of the Godbout, had brought down with him
a copy of the London "Field," the date of which
I have forgotten. It contained an article, stat-
ing that an angler, with salmon rod and tackle,
could land a strong swimmer ; play him out like a
APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT" 67
fish, in a certain number of minutes. I think
it said twenty. One evening after dinner there
was some discussion on the subject between Dr.
Campbell and Mr. Gilmour, when the latter ad-
dressing me, said: ''What do you think ot this?
I told him I believed it could not be done.
*'Well, are you willing to try ?'*
I said certainly, provided I was given eight
or ten yards of line to start. A woolen sash was
got and put over the back of my neck, then under
the arm pits and back again over my shoulders,
where it was knoted. The fly was stuck in the
part that covered my neck. Mr. Gilmour had a
heavy 18-foot salmon rod with thick plaited silk
line, treble and single gut. I did not go far be-
fore the single parted. I think he was trying to
handle his fish to roughly. The treble gut was
then fastened, but fared no better. A third trial
was made with the silk line. This stood a little
longer, but on his trying to give me the butt his
line parted, without my feeling* any heavy strain.
So I don*t believe it can be done, unless the swim-
mer was followed around in a boat where, of
course he would be bound to tire in time, even if
he had no line on him.
A fancy struck me one day of trying to get hold
of a salmon swimming. In the ''Upper Pool,'*
of the Godbout, large numbers of salmon congre-
gate at the foot of the falls, waiting for a suitable
pitch of water to enable ihem to get over. At
58 APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF "GODBOUT"
such times they appear restless, will not look at a
fly, but keep looking around, sometimes coming
to the surface and at others going to the bottom,
or taking a sudden leap. Near the western cor-
ner of the fall there is a steep cliff, with deep and
comparatively still water. By standing on the
edge of this rock I could see their movements
plainly, and watching for one of them to come
near the surface would take a header and try and
get hold of him. I did not have much success at
first, though sometimes I would feel one — ^but
after some practice I managed to grasp one occa-
sionally by the tail, though I never succeeded
in keeping them more than a second or two. I
once repeated this performance at the request of
Mr. Charles Hallock, at that time editor of
*Torest and Stream."
3 Commence trapping
^I^N the first of September I returned home to
%P^ Trinity Bay, to begin the necessary prepara-
tions for my winter hunt. An inexperienced boy
such as I then was could not go alone. I had to
seek some one with the necessary experience, and
who at the same time was willing to teach me and
give me a fair share of the profit we might make.
This partner and teacher I found in the person of
a young Indian named Ashini, — ** The Rock.*'
He was a tall fellow of over six feet, a fine
walker on snowshoes and a pretty good hunter.
He agreed to divide his catch with me and do his
best to give me lessons in trapping, providing I
advanced all the outfit, his share of which he
would repay in the spring, with the excep-
tion of the bark canoe, which I was to furnish
at my expense. I thought this was a pretty fair
arrangement, and agreed to it. We were to make
what is called in trapper language, a fall hunt,
that is to say, start in September and come back
in November, before the heavy snowfalls; then in
December to begin the winter hunt, which ends
according to the trapper's fancy; some returning
late in June. Our outfit was not very expensive,
flour, pork, lard, soda, salt, tea and sugar, were
the principal items. Neither of us smoked nor
60 I COMMENCE TRAPPING
touched liquor, so that was a saving in weight,
and money also. Tents and camp stoves were un-
known. We carried for use in bad weather a
strip of ordinary unbleached cotton, five or six
feet wide, and twelve feet long. This we put up
in a semi-circle on poles, and built a fire in front.
In fair weather we slept in the open air. This
was the method while travelling. Whenever we
reached a suitable hunting ground we built a per-
manent camp. These were of various kinds, log
huts of round timber, split huts, that is to say,
of logs split into boards and erected on a frame
work, and pole huts, made of small trees cover-
ed with earth and branches. This last is a dan-
gerous kind of camp, and often catches fire, as
many a trapper has found to his cost. Then there
was the ordinary bark tepee, a very comfortable
kind of camp, and specially suitable for the
earlier part of the season. In winter travelling
we always used the cotton strip to shelter us
from the wind and cold. When the snow was
deep this camping was tedious work, as we had
to remove the snow from a space sufficiently
large for our camp and for the fire. Then there
was the cutting of the fire wood and collecting
branches of the Canada Balsam or spruce to
make our beds and pillows. Altogether it re-
quired over two hours of hard work. Much of
our comfort — ^the little there was of it — depended
on a judicious selection of the site. Hollows were
I COMMENCE TRAPPING 61 i
always to be avoided, and the fire place made
higher than the back of the camp, as it always
settles down in burning, unless it happens to be
on rock. Smoke is a great nuisance on windy
nights if proper attention is not given to the posi-
tion of the fire. On northern rivers the wind is
nearly always down stream at night, but whether
on a lake or river, it is always best to have the
back of your camp toward the water. With the
tent and stove of the present day this is not quite
so important, but it is still useful in avoiding
sparks from dropping on the tent. Some kinds
of cotton will ignite very easily, and as fire
spreads fast, tents of that kind can be made fair-
ly fire proof by soaking them in a weak solution
of alum and salt. A spark falling on cotton so
treated may burn a hole in it, but it will not
spread.
Then there were steel traps to take, a few of
different sizes. We could not carry many, owing
to their weight, but each year we would add to
their number by leaving the first ones cached. A
good many other things were so left, such as spare
axes, knives, awls and camp kit, taking down in
the spring only what was absolutely required for
our return. When all our things were collected
together we generally found that it required two
canoe loads to carry it. This meant a double trip
all over with the canoe, and four or five loads
over the portages. I soon found out that trap-
62 I COMMENCE TRAPPING
ping wasn't all fun, especially in bad weather,
coming into camp dead tired and soaking wet.
Some river was selected which we ascended until
we found a favorable locality for hunting. Al-
though we left early in September, the time con-
sumed in those double trips and carries was so
great that it was often well on in October before
any trapping was begun. I suppose game laws
existed then, but we never heard anything about
them, and killed whatever game and fish we
wanted for food or bait, at any time. Bear, otter
and beaver were the earliest to get prime, and to
these we gave our first attention. I shall never
forget the day I killed my first otter with Ashini
that fall. I had been shown on our way up many
other signs and their slides and landings, on
which dead falls or traps are usually set, but had
never come across the live animal itself. One
morning Ashini had found some beaver cuttings
in the entrance of a small brook. He said that they
were pretty sure to be on the brook or some of the
lakes, so it was decided to try and find them.
We were out all day, and had gone over several
lakes and portages without finding the beavers
and as it was getting late, made up our minds
to camp near a lake we had just reached and
resume the search the next day. As Ashini was
acquainted with the landing places and portages
he steered the canoe, and I was ready to do the
shooting in the bow, whenever any offered. While
I COMMENCE TRAPPING 63
crossing this last lake three otters came into
view, and catching sight of us began to stretch
their necks and rise out of the water upon their
fore paws. Ashini shook the canoe quietly, and
whispered intiuk — otter — and made a sign to
get the gun ready. They were about a hundred
yards off, and began to circle around to get wind
of us, and then dived. Ashini quickly told me to
watch in the opposite direction and began to
turn the canoe around. Before this could be
done they were up again and down like a flash,
one of them about ten feet from the stern of the
canoe. I had not had time to put my gun up
to my shoulder. I was awfully sorry to have lost
this chance for a shot. We waited some minutes
more, but they did not reappear, so we made for
shore and began preparations for our camp. A
suitable spot was chosen about forty yards from
the lake, and while the Indian was getting some
dry wood and birch bark I had broken some bal-
sam branches and undone our small pack to get
the tin kettle for water. I went down to the lake
to fiU it, as it was getting dusk. Our canoe and some
of our kit was still there, including the gun. I
was standing near, looking out on the lake, think-
ing of the fine otters we had seen. There was
no wind, and everything was perfectly still. All
at once I heard some splashing in the water, not
very far from me and near the edge. I grasped
the gun and went in that direction. The ground
64 I COMMENCE TRAPPING
was low and covered with a short scrub, which
made a scratching noise as I went through.
About fifty yards walking brought me to a small
mound, an old decayed beaver hut. I sat down
on it to listen. I was not certain of what had
caused this splashing, but had expectations that
it was the otters again, and sure enough I had
not been there two minutes before one of them
rose, and then the other two. They were only
about fifteen feet from me, evidently trying to
make out what was sitting there. I hardly breath-
ed, and very slowly brought the gun up and fired
at what appeared the biggest one. For a moment
I could not see anything. There was a big splash
in the water, but when it all subsiaed 1 saw a
black object floating. I shouted to the Indian to
come with the canoe. He had already started
down on hearing the report. He soon joined me,
and I picked up, my first otter. How proud I^
felt of that shot ! At the camp fire I looked it all
over and strokea it, and looked again, and I think
I dreamt of it all night. Since then I have shot
about fifty more, and on one occasion killed three
in one shot, but never felt prouder than I did of
that first one. It was the female I had killed that
night, and subsequently we trapped the two
young ones. The next day we found the beaver
lodge we were seeking. The methods of captur-
ing the occupants will be found in the next chap-
ter.
trapping %pnx
Qf BOUT the middle of October we reached what
iC* was to bfe our first permanent camp. It was
a section of country bordering on one of the
branches of the Manicouagan River, one of the
largest streams on the North Shore, and the high-
way of many families of Indians and trappers.
As a general rule an Indian will hunt any kind of
game he comes across, but as in the higher call-
ings, there are specialists in trapping. My part-
ner, Ashini, was a specialist on lynx hunting; this
was his hobby. During the many years that I
knew him he more than doubled the catch of
other Indians around. The tract of land he had
selected was specially adapted to this, old burned
ground, coveied with a growth of birch, poplar,
balsam and black spruce. In such sections the
Northern hare, squirrel, ruffed grouse and spruce
partridge abound, and these are the natural food
of the lynx. This second growth, that follows
a large bush fire, will grow in patches. Near the
moisture portions, in gullies, around lakes or at
the edge of rivers, it will be balsam and spruce;
on the higher plateaus, birch, poplar and moun-
tain ash, and the summit of the mountains will
frequently remain bare or grow small shrubs and
66 TRAPPING LYNX
mosses. Through such country a trail is blazed
from ten to twelve miles long or less, according to
what the trapper cares to visit in one day's walk-
ing, as he has to return to his camp, to rest.
Along this trail at intervals, a snare, trap, or
dead-fall is set, about five or six to the mile. Set-
ting twenty snares between two partners is con-
sidered a fair day's work. Three or four such
lines of traps are made, radiating from the per-
manent camp. At other times if the country is
suitable, one continuous line is built forty to fifty
miles long, with a camp to sleep in about every
^ ten miles. This may appear a very short distance
for one day, but it must be remembered that the
trapper has to look at each trap each time he
passes, see that it is properly baited, scented and
cleared of any snow that may be in the way. Af-
ter a heavy fall of snow the track has to be broken
which is hard work, and sometimes with the
addition of a pack to carry. For bait, a portion
of hare, a squirrel, or the wings of grouse are
used. The skin of a hare, with the head left on,
makes the best of all baits, placed in the bottom
of the little hut-like enclosure it looks like a live
hare. The oil glands of the beaver, with the
pounded leaves of the cat-mint (nepeta) makes
one of the most attractive scent-baits. Snares are
chiefly used to save carrying steel traps. They
are made of three strands of strong twine, ca-
THE LATE JOHN BROWN,
one of the earliest Anglers on the
Moisie River
Lynx in Trap
Glacier Bed at St. Pancras Cove
TRAPPING LYNX 67
pable of standing a combined dead weight of two
hundred pounds. Copper or brass wire is of no
use. The place being selected, a small enclosure,
about a foot wide and two deep is built with
small trees or dead wood. A cross bar is made by
cutting a long sapling about two inches in diam-
eter, and driving the thick end in the snow.
This bar should be about eighteen inches above
the snow where it crosses the enclosure. The
bait is then put in the bottom of the enclosure
with some scent, and the snare set by tying to the
bar. The snare should hang about eight inches
off the ground or snow, and be about six inches in
diameter. The surrounding open portion of the
enclosure is then filled up with light green
branches and the snare is ready. A steel trap is
set in the same way, leaving the front of the
enclosure entirely open. When a lynx is caught
in a steel trap he will make one desperate effort
to break loose. If he does not succed in that
one Jump he quietly returns to the enclosure and
lies down in it, coiling himself up as comfort-
ably as he can, and there he will remain without
attempting to move until he dies of starvation.
In all my experience I have never seen them act
otherwise, and they can remain alive about four
weeks, without food or water. An occasional one
can be shot by following the fresh track in soft
snow and imitating the barking of a dog or the
68 TRAPPING LYNX
howl of the wolf. He will then climh the largest
tree he can find, or crawl into a rocky crevice,
from which last it is very difficult to extract him
after being shot.
Going over my line of traps one day I crossed
the fresh tracks of a large lynx. I had one of my
brothers with me on his first year at trapping
and had told him of how the lynx could be run
down and shot. The track we were following was
fresh, and my brother was very anxious that we
should try conclusions with the animal. So we
laid down our packs, and taking only the gun and
one axe we started after our game. We went
about a mile or so before we '^raised'* him. We
knew this by the way he jumped in the soft snow.
We then began to howl and bark to frighten him
into climbing some tree. He did not take kindly
to our proposition, however, the surrounding
trees being too small. He had tried a couple and
come down again, making for the side of a steep
mountain, where he managed to crawl in under
some large boulders. After making sure he had
not come out elsewhere, I set my brother to watch
with the gun in case he might yet do so, and I
started to work to try and locate him. I had to
remove quite a lot of snow to reach the level of
the hole, and after about two hours* work finally
saw him. He had turned around, facing me, and
his eye-balls were the first objects I saw in the
TRAPPING LYNX ©9
opening. The hole was about fifteen feet deep
and very narrow, and I could not get at him from
behind to make him come out, so I decided to
shoot him there. I was in a very cramped posi-
tion and partly lying down, with the muzzle of
the gun very close to the hole, and thus I fired.
The hole shot back on me, and I was covered with
dirt, smoke and snow. After a while the smoke
cleared away, but no eyes were visible. I felt
sure that he was dead, but the trouble now was
how to get him out. We had no hook or any wire
that we could use to make one. I cut a tree, long
enough to reach the bottom of the hole. The small
end I cut off, leaving it one inch or so in diame-
ter. Taking the axe I split the end into eight
or ten pieces, leaving the points jagged. I then
pushed that point into the hole until I felt it rest-
ing on the soft body of the lynx. Then T began
to twist the stick round and round until I began
to feel it getting harder. I then drew it out. The
js^ged split end had got fastened in the soft hair
and skin by the rotary motion and held the lynx
fast. It was night before we reached our camp,
very hungry, but pleased at our success.
In my first winter with Ashini we trapped and
shot fifty-seven lynx. Three years later, with
one of my brothers, I got sixty-nine in one win-
ter. In the spring I sold them to a trader, Mr.
D. Turgeon, for $70.00. To-day that same lot
would bring $690.00.
Peaber
QfLTHOUGH I have seen thousands of beaver
^5* skins at the Hudson Bay Posts, and a few
live animals brought down at times by the In-
dians, I had never, previous to our finding this
lodge, seen them in the wild state. In the book
on natural history that Mr. Lawler .had given
me, I had read many statements about the beaver,
which I afterwards found were most absurd.
Some of them were that the animal could not live
out of water, and that when it did have to land
to cut its food, the tail was always kept immer-
sed in water ; that the upper part of the body when
cooked tasted like meat and the lower portion
of tail like fish; that it used its tail like a trowel
to build its mud hut; that a medicinal oil was
obtained by boiling the tail, and many other ridi-
culous stories. I need not tell my readers that
all this was imaginary. The flesh has been des-
cribed by some more recent authors as bitter and
disagreeable. I dare say this was perfectly true
of the specimens they tasted. One might say
the same, or worse, of the ox or sheep, if he was
eating some of the flesh after it had lain a week
or more with the offal in it. The meat of the
beaver is delicate and palatable when in proper
BEAVER 71
condition. The bark of most of the trees it feeds
on and the root of the water lily are very bitter,
and if the intestines remain in the animal for a
day or more, as when caught in traps, the flesh
will then acquire the bitter taste. The same may
also be said of the scent glands (castoreiun.) The
parts surrounding it will taste of castoreum. It is
the same with other animals or birds feeding on
strongly scented herbs or vegetables. I remem-
ber that when shooting sage grouse in the West-
em States, we had to remove the entrails of the
birds immediately^ and when so treated they
made good eating, but if left unopened over-night
the flesh would be strong and unpalatable. The
tail of the beaver is never used for plastering as
described. But as a powerful propeller in
swimming, and as a prop when sitting on its
haunches, while cutting trees, feeding, or at
other work. In a very recent publication that I
have read, the author describes the mode of set-
ting steel traps for beaver, though I am afraid
he would get small reward for his trapping if he
followed his own directions. To meet with suc-
cess, a trap, number throe or four, the latter
preferable, should be set near deep water. A
jutting point on the lake, near the side of the
lodge, and at the dam, are the best places. Your
site having been chosen, remove carefully all the
small twigs in the vicinity, as also any dead
72 BEAVER
Sticks there may be near or on the bottom. Most
trappers prefer to place the trap deep, say in
nine inches of water, and to get the beaver by
the hind paw, which more than doubles his
chances of remaining in the trap. A beaver ap-
proaching a landing will always do so swimming
and not walking. As they seldom use the fore-
paws in swimming, if the trap is set in shallow
water, say four inches or less, the trap will very
often be sprung by the breast of the animal,
where, of course, it cannot get a proper hold, and
a few hairs only are what the trapper finds next
day. If by chance he should be secured by the
forepaw, he will frequently not move the trap
immediately, but will amputate his paw with
his sharp teeth. If he does not do this he will
make an effort to get rid of the trap by swimming
away, and it is just here that the important
point comes in. The trap has to be weighted.
A stone of five or six pounds weight is attached
by two or three strands of strong twine, or better
still by a piece of wire, to the iron cross-bar form-
ing the under portion of the trap. Going out, the
beaver has no trouble in dragging this into deep
water till the full length of the chain and string
is reached. He will then attempt to return to
land, but as it is uphill work, he is retained by
the weight and drowns. If the trap is not
weighted, the odds are fifty to one he will get rid
BEAVEIt 73
of it in some way, and the chances are that you
will never see that trap again. I have seen a three-
year-old beaver, caught in a large No. 4 trap,
the chain of which had been fastened with a
staple to a tree nine or ten feet long, drag the
whole away out into the lake 150 yards before it
drowned. In setting traps in winter under the
ice, no weight is needed. The use of castoreum,
as scent bait, is very useful in the spring, but not
much required at other seasons. A nice young
birch of poplar tree stuck in the bank near the
trap and somewhat leaning towards it, is all that
is required. Cleanliness is essential in handling
traps and baits.
Dead-falls are very sure for trapping beaver,
and are set in their paths or runways and on the
dam, but they require experience and skill in hand-
ling, also an approximate idea of the size of the
animal to be trapped. The cuttings serve as a guide
for this. Shooting is a very nice and quick way
of securing beaver when a lodge is found, but
only practicable in the fall and spring. The
afternoon is the best time, but they are to be met
with at any hour ol the day, especially when
working at their dam or lodge. Large sized shot
is required, as the bones of the head are very
hard. AAA is the kind preferred by most trap-
pers. Personally, I used much smaller, BB being
my favorite, but I never fired at more than eight
74 BEAVER
or ten yards* range> often much closer, unless the
animal was on land. In shooting beyond that dis-
tance, one is apt to only wound it, when it will
dive and seldom be recovered. If you do happen
to kill one there is danger of it sinking before you
can reach it, as about twenty per cent will do that
if killed stone dead. When shot in salt water,
as happens now and then in the spring, they never
sink. Chiselling or trenching beaver should
never be resorted to unless in a case of necessity,
or where one wishes to secure them alive. Wher-
ever this is practiced to any extent, it has proved
more injurious than any other mode of trapping.
Where a lake has been trenched it will take years
before it is again occupied. At least this is my
experience. Twenty-five years ago I wrote for
* 'Forest and Stream'* an article on **Chiselling
beaver.*' Sensible trappers who resort to the
same tract of country year after year, never
trench beaver, or trap or shoot the young ones,
except if necessary for food. They trap the old
ones by placing the trap deep under water and
using larger trees for the bait. As soon as that
is accomplished the traps are removed and the
others left undisturbed. The next season the
probabilities are they will be found in the same
place. By doing this I have had beaver occupy
the same lake six or seven years in succession.
When we consider that a full grown beaver is
BEAVER 75
worth from eight to ten dollars and a young one
only abont two, it is worth while giving some
thought to che subject. The meat is of the great-
est value to Indians and trappers, being fat and
very nutritious, and is therefore very much sought
after. Beavers are not at all shy and will often
come within a few feet of one if he keeps still.
Their sense of hearing is very acute, and seems to
be that upon which they most rely to warn them of
danger. About forty is considered a good catch
for tv^o trappers (partners) or for one family of
Indians, though sometimes as many as a hundred
are killed in the season from October to June. In
fhe section of the county of Saguenay with which
1 am familiar, I have observed no decrease in their
numbers from what they were fifty years ago
when I first started trapping.
iWartew awb ^tfter i^maU jWammate
^OMs trappers claim that there are three
varieties of marten on the North Shore of
the St. Lawrence. First, the pine marten, found
in the heavily wooded sections, secondly the rock
marten, found in hilly and rocky country with
stunted growth of trees, and lastly the swamp
marten, inhabiting lowlands and marshes and
short black spruce country. I must confess that I
could never see any difference in them, except
sometimes in the color of the fur, those caught ii^
the low, swampy places being, as a rule, lighter
in color than the otiiers, though I do not think
' this enough to justify a distinction of species.
In any case, I will leave this question open, as
for present purposes it makes no difference
whether there be one or three species, as they are
all trapped alike. To trap marten with success,
one has to specially select the ground, viz, thick
woods and heavy timber, such as spruce or bal-
sam. This sort of growth will generally be found
in the bottoms of foothills of large streams or
near large lakes. No other fur of any conse-
quence will be found in such localities. The
ground having been chosen, a path is blazed
through the forest, and a line of traps built.
MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMALS 77
generally about fifteen traps to the mile, until
one has about four or five hundred traps. This is
about as much as two men can keep in good order.
There are many ways of building these marten
traps, all depending upon the season and the
duration of one's trapping. If a man wants to
keep the same line of traps going for several sea-
sons, he will make all his line of stump traps.
These are built as follows : a large tree of ten
inches or more in diameter is cut down, care
being taken to have the cut level and deep enough
from one side to reach within two inches of being
cut clear through. Then from the opposite side
mark a cut ten inches higher up on the tree. The
latter then falls easily on the side of the big cut-
ting, leaving a level stump with one projecting
side. From the fallen tree small pieces resembl-
ing shingles are split and sharpened at one end
and driven into the stump so as to form a small
enclosure of nine or ten inches deep and about
seven wide. A small piece of wood is fitted in
between the projection and the enclosure to hold
the pin and latch bait holder. The strangling
piece is then fitted over this, and a weight, a
small log. of wood — put on the str angler. To set
the trap, have a pin of three inches in length and
half an inch thick; then a latch of eight inches
long and of the same diameter a^ the pin. Fasten
the bait to one end of the latch, then lift the
78 MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMALS
strangling piece, insert the latch, place one end
of the pin on it and the strangling piece rests on
the other end, and your trap is ready. When an
animal pulls on the baited latch the pin slips off
and out, and the trap falls. This is on the figure
of four principle, with only two pieces instead
of three. The above kind of trap is generally
built in mid- winter, and the stump cut three feet
above snow level, so that it is scarcely ever out
of order on account of being under the snow. A
well built trap, such as here described, will last
from ten to fifteen years. The principle for
building on the ground or snow is exactly the
same and for all small mammals is one of the best
kind of dead falls. Steel traps. No. 1, the best,
are often used and set in the same way. For bait,
fish is much used, especially near the coast line.
Long strips of dog fish flesh are often dried for
this purpose, and it is very oily and tough and
not liable to be eaten by vermin, mice, &c. When
flesh is used for bait, hare and squirrel meat is
preferred, being the natural food. Marten are
not at all shy, and will frequently come near a
camp, and even into it. I have caught several by
leaving a baited steel trap inside of my camp when
we had occasion to leave it. They are nocturnal
in their habits, but now and then one is seen in
the day time.
Ermine are very often caught in marten traps.
MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMAT.R 79
as they have very similar habits, and inhabit the
same kind of comitry.
Mink are often captured with the same kind
of dead falls, but these must be set in the vicinity
of water as much as possible. The inlet and outlet
of small lakes are favorite places, and also where
small streams meet larger ones, in fact, any place
where small fish are to be found. Spawning
beds of trout and salmon are very much fre-
quented and great destruction caused on them.
Although small animals, mink will chase and kill
fish of twice their weight. They are very inquis-
itive, and not at all shy, and will frequently
come within a few feet of a person, if one keeps
quiet. They are very often shot by trappers,
but this is very wasteful, as the skin and fur is
always more or less injured. Steel traps are pre-
ferable to any others for trapping mink, as they
can be set in, or very near to water, and when the
animal is caught it drops into the water and is
drowned immediately. In this way the fur is
not damaged at all.
^ennant'g jWarten (jWuflitelfa jgennantt)
/^MONG the fur-bearing animals that we also
X^ trapped was the above, or as sometimes call-
ed *Tisher/' though why he should be so called I
cannot imagine, as I never saw nor heard of the
animal catching any fish. I know, however, that
he will eat fish, because we often had some of our
mink and marten traps robbed by him of the fish
bait. His natural food is meat, and when he
can get it, chiefly that of the porcupine, of which
he is the most deadly enemy. A very strange
thing is that the porcupine quills do not seem to
affect this animal at all. Some years after I be-
gan trapping I caught a large fisher — a male—
that I am sure had over two hundred quills in
its body, without apparently suffering any incon-
venience from them. I examined it carefully —
it appeared so extraordinary — for signs of pus
or swelling, but there was none. The animal was
fat and in fine condition. I was not satisfied
with this particular case, but resolved to con-
tinue this examination with every specimen I
should get hold of. Since that time I have trap-
ped and shot about forty fishers, every one of
which had quills in the body, but with no bad
effect. I have occasionally related these facts to
some of my friends, but have always thought that
I detected a smile^ which seemed to say ''This
is a fish-(er) story/'
In order that these statements should be cw-
roborated by a competent authority, I sent» many
years ago, several specimens in the flesh to Dr. C.
Hart Merriam, a celebrated naturalist, and to-
day Chief of Biology, Smithsonian Institute,
Washington, D.C.,, and he also, found the condi-
tion above described.*. The animals are gr^a-
rious in their migrations, but once located they
are generally found singly. They prefer moun-
tainous regions and gullies, with thickly wooded
slopes, just such places as are usually preferred
by porcupine. Prior to 1865, in the range of
mountains known as the Ste. Anne Mountains,
South Shore of the St. Lawrence, betwe^i Gaspe
and the city of Bimouski, porcupines were found
in abundance, and formed part of the winter
supply of fresh meat to many of the scattered
inhabitants of that region. One trapper and f ar*^
mer combined, named Dugas, told me that he fre-
quently killed six or seven porcupines in a day's
hunt, and from one hundred to one hundred and
thirty in a season. In 1865 there was a migration
of fisher into that region, and two years later all
the porcupine had been exterminated. The very
same thing had occurred on the North Shore in
* See MammalB of the Adiron4ack8, Merriam 1884, pagB 49.
82 PENNANT'S MARTEN
recent years. In my early days of trapping the
capture of a fisher was rare, and I have known
old trappers who had never seen the animal alive.
At that time porcupines were found in great
numbers, principally in that section of the coun-
try east of the Manicouagan River to the head-
waters of the Ste. Marguerite. I mention this
fact from personal observation. It was no un-
usual thing for an Indian family to capture from
one hundred and fifty to two hundred porcupines
in a winter. We could easily have done the same
ourselves had we so desired, but as we generally
had more meat than we CQuld use we left them un-
molested. I have crossed in one day's walking,
over thirty fresh yards or winter quarters of the
porcupine. A very low estimate of the numbers
killed each year in the above limits would be
about five or six thousand. This continued dur-
ing the fifteen years that I trapped in that region
and until about 1880, when a large migration of
fisher occurred and the poor porcupine were
doomed. In two years they were completely des-
troyed. During these two years every trapper
got a few fisher, some getting as many as ten or
twelve in one season. I myself trapped eight one
winter in this immediate vicinity, although I
could only devote a small portion of my time to
trapping. This abundance of fisher lasted only
three seasons; after that they disappeared. Since
PENNANT'S MARTEN 83
then only an accidental one is trapped. As for
the porcupine, I suppose they will increase again
in time, but for my part I have not seen one
around here for some years. In 1897, I saw
along the banks of the Big Romaine River in
Labrador, two porcupine, which shows that there
are still a few in that locality. Fishers are not
shy or very wary of man, and they are easily
trapped; that it is to say, it is easy to get one in
your trap, though it is hard to keep him in it.
They are very powerful and active, closely resem-
bling the carcajou in this respect, and once in the
trap they work incessantly with claws and teeth,
until they either cut their foot or drag the trap
away. On two occasions I followed up a fisher
many miles before overtaking him although ham-
pered by a large steel trap and dragging chain.
The only safe way to set steel traps for fisher is
to have the chain secured to the end of a lifting
pole. This must be balanced on a forked tree
sufficiently high and strong enough to lift the ani-
mal clear off the ground. Care must also be
taken that no trees are left in the vicinity, or
else the animal will climb them and get the pole
down. Fish or meat of any kind will do for bait,
but the most certain and deadly is a piece of por-
cupine with the quills on, part of which have
been singed in the fire. This will attract them
for miles around. Some trappers prefer dead-
84 PENNANT'S MARTEN
falls for catching fishers. When these are used
they have to be made extra strong with a dead-
weight on the strangling part, of at least two
hundred pounds. Going through the woods one
day I came on a fisher that had killed three por-
cupine, only a small part of each of which he had
eaten, and that near the throat. He was hard
at work on the third one, when I shot him.
Hear fttorteg
ll^UR oommon black bear is looked upon, by
VP^ most people in Canada, as a very dangerous
animal. This dread is even shared by our In-
dians, and when bears are spoken of it is always
with great respect. In fact, the name is seldom
mentioned, but the bear is referred to as **the
black beast'' or simply ''the animal." When
caught in a steel trap or seen at a distance, he is
spoken to and asked that vengeance be not taken
for his death. Even the bones are held in respect.
They are never thrown to the dogs like other
refuse, but placed in the fire and burned. The
skulls are hung up in a tree. Some parts of the
animal, like the paws and head, are never allowed
to be eaten by women or children. These last if
by some accident they eat any meat from the paws,
are supposed to be liable to suffer all their lives
from cold feet. At certain times bear feasts used
to be held, at which no women were allowed to
be present, and special wigwams were built
wherein to hold the feast. At these feasts noth-
ing else but bear's meat was allowed to be eaten.
This was prepared in various ways; either roast-
ed on the spit, boiled or stewed. Blood pudding,
fat pudding, and pure fat of the bear are other
86 BEAR STORIES
dishes prepared from parts of the animal. *Tat
pudding" is prepared in this way: About three
or four feet of the large intestine is cut off with
all the fat adhering to it. A ramrod or thin stick
of suitable size is then inserted in the gut, and
one end tied to it. It is then pulled inside out
and cleaned. Berries are sometimes stuffed in-
side with the fat. The ends are then tied, and
the gut put to boil for about an hour and then
laid aside to cool, as it is always eaten cold. It
is served up in its full length on a birch bark plat-
ter, and each guest cuts off with his knife what-
ever length he is able to manage; the more he can
stow away the greater being the honor he is pay-
ing to his host.
Being in luck one day, I chanced to supply the
necessary viands for a feast in the shape of two
bears, and of course had to be invited. Outside
of the Hudson's Bay Company's agents, few
whites have ever had that honor. Some of the
hunters were away, so that the gathering was
not a large one, some fourteen or fifteen guests
being present. A long strip of white cotton serv-
ed as a table cloth. This was laid down on the
balsam branches, fresh cut for the occasion. A
plate and knife and some thin sheets of birch
bark were laid before each person, but no fork or
spoon. When necessary to take a piece of meat
out of the platter, a wooden skewer was used.
BEAR STORIES 87
This, as well as the only ladle allowed, was made
out of the mountain ash, — ^the bear's favorite
tree. For some reason that I could not find out
no one sat at what we would call the head or foot
of the table. The two oldest men sat opposite
each other at one end, and after that, towards
the foot, each guest according to his age or rank
as a hunter. Every one being seated the first
course was served. A large bowl of hot bear's
grease took the place of soup. In this was the
wooden ladle. The bowl was set before the chief ;
after helping himself and sipping from the la-
dle what quantity he chose, the bowl and ladle
was passed on to the next man in rank, and so on
to the end of the table. If there was a mighty
hunter — I should rather say eater — able to dis-
tinguish himself by drinking three or four ladles-
f ul of the fat, it was always greeted with a round
of applause. The first course through, the bowl
was laid on the middle of the table and the ladle
taken away. The second course was the bear's
neck and head roasted on the spit, and the spit
left in it, as it served to pass it around to each
guest. It was stuck in front of the chief, who
made a sort of address to it. He boasted of the
bear's strength and abilities as a tree climber,
and of its powers of endurance as a faster — ^re-
ferring to its hibernations — and paid it all the
other compliments he could think of. The end of
88 BEAR STORIES
the spit was then raised and a piece bitten out
or torn with the fingers, as no knife must touch
this sacred pibce de rSsistance. Like the bowl of
fat it went around, and each one had to take a
small piece or a bite as he fancied, but no one
was allowed to take more. What was left was
then put into the fire and burned for the absent
ones, — ^the deceased hunters. After this second
course each guest was free to help himself and
eat whatever quantity he chose of roast, boiled,
stewed or pudding. Very little conversation was
carried on during the feast. The diners were not
there to **palaver," but for business, and any
special gastronomic feat performed was sure to
meet with general approval. After every one had
eaten till he could stand no more, the bowl of fat
was placed in front of the chief a second time.
With his two hands open he dipped his palms in
the fat, and then smeared his long hair with it,
every guest following suit. Was this the origin
of the use of bear's grease for the hair ?
Thus ended the feast. Pipes and strong black
plug tobacco were then brought forth and every-
one who smoked enjoyed himself. What was left
was quickly taken away by the women for their
meal, and the small bones were thrown into the
fire. As soon as the cloth was removed there was
a general stretching out of the diners on the
ground all round. Had I not been familiar with
^ -■' m
BEAR STORIES 80
these feasts I should have expected an invitation
to a funeral shortly afterwards, but nothing out
of the ordinary happened. Through the efforts
of the missionaries these superstitious rites and
customs have been partially abolished on the
coast, but they are carried on just the same as
soon as the Indians go inland for the hunt.
Similar feasts are also held in honor of the cari-
bou and the beaver, and also for birds, such as
geese and loons. I have never heard of a fish
feast in this section. In honor of whatever ani-
mal or bird, the feast is held, no other kind of
meat figures, and provision is always made to
have more than will be eaten. They will actual-
ly starve themselves for a time in order to collect
the required quantity.
Some years ago I sold a No. 5 bear trap to an
old Indian named ''Ka-mikamust,'' — ^the One
Who Sings. It was a Newhoiise trap, and had a
spread of jaws of about eleven inches. I had orig-
inally paid twelve dollars for it, for traps were
dear in those days. It had been a very lucky trap
for me, and I had caught several fine bears in
it. I used to set it near the path leading to the
pools on the Godbout River. The last time I
set it a large bear got fast in it, and as it was set
with a drag, (a heavy piece of wood fastened to
the chain), the bear had hauled it around consid-
erably, up and down along the edge of the river,
but he could not go far into the woods, as the drag
00 BEAR STORIES
would catch in the trees. Seeing that he could
not get rid of it in that manner he endeavored to
cross the river with it. It was an unlucky at-
tempt for both of us. The strong current car-
him down into the deep water, where the weight
of the trap held him down till he was drowned
and my bear trap lost. I had an idea from the
way he had acted that such was the case, but in
spite of all our dragging and poking around we
could not find it. The following spring when the
high waters came down, the trap was carried
down some distance and grounded near the end of
an island, where salmon were usually landed by
the anglers and one of the gaffmen found it. The
decayed paw was still fast in it, but the carcass
had been carried away. I told this story to the
old Indian, *'and now,'* I said, "I am selling
you the luckiest trap on earth, and only at cost
price. I was charging him twelve dollars. The
old man was delighted, and as he left I wished
him good luck again. On reaching his hunting
ground on a branch of the Manicouagan River
the old Indian set his trap. And then, a very
strange thing happened. On his first visit to
the trap he found two large male bears caught in
it, one by the hind paw and the other by the fore
paw. Both paws were well inside the trap and
gripped high. They had fought like devils to-
gether and were torn and bloody but still securely
held by the trap. '*Ka-mikamust'* thought he
BEAR STORIES 91
wa-s dreaming and C50uld hardly believe what he
saw. There was something uncanny about that
trap. Never in his life had any such thing hap-
pened. It was unheard of in the tribe. It was
too much luck and he could not stand it. He
raised the trap and would not set it again; but
going back to Bersimis with it he sold it to the
first comer for three dollars! What eventually
became of it I do not know, but I trust the good
luck continued. I have trapped for a good many
years myself, and have questioned old trappers,
and no one around here ever heard of such a
capture. Had it been a female and her cub it
would have been less surprising. To show how
the least thing out of the ordinary affects the
superstitious minds of these Indians, I will re-
late what occurred to another Indian, **Kask-
nian.'' ,He was originally a Lake St. John In-
dian, but had finally settled on the Bersimis reser-
vation, where he owned a good house. He was
very fond of ''fire water," and as he was a good
hunter he generally managed to secure more than
was good for him, so that it seriously affected
his health. One winter, while he was on his
trapping ground, he noticed same fox tracks, and
placing a bait and steel trap on them, he found
on his return trip a nice black fox in it. Need-
less to say he was pleased with his capture. Here
was enough to pay for all his winter's outfit. He
reset his trap carefully, and next morning as he
92 BEAR STORIES
passed on his way there was another black fox in
in. Decidedly he was in luck, but it made him
thoughtful. Two black foxes in succession was
rare luck, but even this might happen without
any supernatural agency. The trap was reset
again, and strange as it may appear, another
black fox waj caught next day. This was alto-
gether too much for him. He raised the trap and
went back to his wigwam. Meeting his wife he
told her that the Evil Spirit was stuffing his
traps. '*I shall not hunt again," he said. *'I
am going to die soon.'* Nothing could get this
idea out of his head. He raised all his traps and
hunted only for meat. In the spring, when the
ice on the rivers broke up, he returned to Bersi-
mis, where, as bad luck would have it, he died
that same summer. Fifty years of missionary
work will not eradicate the superstitious belief
that one chance circumstance like this will
engender.
Though I have heard any number of stories to
the contrary, my own experience with the black
bear is, that he will always run away from man
if he has the chance. Of course, if wounded or
cornered, he will show fight just the same as a
much smaller animal would do. In cases like
this he can be nasty, because he is a powerful
brute. Some years ago, when porpoise oil was
selling at seventy-five to eighty cents per gallon,
porpoise shooting was quite a business here.
BEAR STORIES 93
Two good men, in a canoe, if the weather was at
all decent, would get from fifty to a hundred in
a season^ that is to say, from August to the mid-
dle of September, about six weeks. After the
layer of fat was removed, the carcass used to be
left on the beach, when, if the weather was at all
warm, they ^\^ould swell up with the gas from the
intestines and float off at high tide, getting
strewn about everywhere. The smell from these
carcasses rivalled in strength that of any high
class perfumery shop, and foxes, bears and other
animals would be attracted. One day, going to
the east end of the bay here, I noticed bear tracks
in the sand, and followed them. I found that
the animal was hauling off some of these carcasses
to the woods. The sand dune there was quite
steep, and about twenty feet high, yet this bear
— a small one — could climb that hill with a car-
cass heavier than himself. My brother and I set
a dead fall and we got him next day. He was a
yearling.
One season late in July, I was salmon fishing
on the Trinity River. It was a hot and bright
day, and we had gone over three or four portages.
Just above our last one there was a small stretch
of dead water. On laying down the canoe I
caught sight of a large bear. He was sitting on
the end of a big spruce that had fallen across the
river and broken in the middle. The tip of the
tree had been washed away, but the roots and
94 BEAR STORIES
the weight had kept the butt in place, so that it
formed a sort of half bridge, the root high up the
bank and the tip at the bottom of the river.
Right near the water the bear was sitting on his
haunches, snapping at the deer flies with his
mouth, or occasionally whisking them oflf with
his fore paws. I could easily have shot him from
where I was, but his pelt was no good, being out
of season, and we did not want the meat, so it
would have been only waste to kill him. A
fancy struck me however to give him a fright
and make him drop in the water. So I told my
brother what I wanted to do; namely, to sneak
up quietly along the river until we were within a
few yards of him, and then fire a shot and so
dump him in the river. We got our canoe very
cautiously in the water, and getting my gun
ready in the bow, we both of us squatted right
down in the bottom of the canoe, and without
lifting our paddles out of the water we crept up
very slowly. There was hardly any wind, but
what little there was came down the river, thus
giving us a chance. On we crept, never making
a move if he happened to look in our direction,
but as soon as he was busy with the flies we would
shove along. When we got about thirty feet
from him I raised my paddle noiselessly over the
side and rested it on the bars of the canoe
behind me. I then got hold of my gun, and was
just steadying myself to fire in the air, when the
BEAR STORIES 95
end of my paddle dropped from the bar to the
bottom of the canoe. The bear gave a start and
got on all fours, looking at us. Just at that mo-
ment I fired one shot, and as he started on the
run up the incline I let go the other barrel. He
was not surprised enough to drop off the log, but
the view of the manner in which he crashed into
the woods was something to remember. Had this
been in the kodak days the opportunity for a fine
shot could not have been better.
I suppose most of my readers have heard of
bears, '' playing possum'' — shamming death,
when fired upon or wounded. This was some-
thing I found very hard to believe, probably be-
cause I had never given one much of a chance to
sham. I know, however, of two cases, where ap-
parently they did so act. The first occurred near
Mingan. A half-breed named Bellefleur was out
after a large bear that had been seen in the
berry patches in the direction of Long Point. He
was accompanied by his son, a boy of fourteen.
After watching for some time they saw the bear
feeding, and creeping up into the shelter of
the bush, they both got within easy range. Belle-
fleur > sr., fired his shot and the bear dropped.
Carefully re-loading his gun he went up to the
animal and poked it in the body to make sure it
was really dead. The bear did not move. The
hunter laid down his gun and pulled out his
sheath knife to gut and bleed him. Just as he
96 BEAR STORIES
grasped the forepaw the bear raised himself, and
then followed a terrible fight for life on the part
of Bellefleur. He called out to his son to shoot,
but the poor boy was afraid to hit his father as
the man and beast twisted around. The old hun-
ter all this time was stabbing at the bear when
ever he could get a chance. Finally Bellefleur was
crushed and held down by the weight of the brute
and a bite near the eye and the temple pierced his
skull. About this time the boy fired his shot at
the head of the bear and ran away to the post for
help. When the other Indians arrived on the
spot, they found them both hunter and bear
dead, the latter lying over the half-breed's body.
According to the statement of the Indians that
skinned the animal, there was only one bullet in
it, and that was in the head, which the boy claim-
ed was from his shot.
While I was living at Trinity Bay we used to
set dead falls for bears in a large tract of burnt
over country, where the blueberries grew about
as thick as the black flies, and that's not saying a
little. One day I happened to be busy at some
more pressing work, so I sent my brother Firmin
to visit the traps, cautioning him not to go near
them if there was a bear in any of them, but to
come right back for me. He was then a lad of
about twelve and a pretty fair shot, but had
never fired at any bigger game than rabbits in the
mammal line. He had frequently gone alone.
BEAR STORIES 97
however, to see these traps. This time he was in
luck. On arriving at the second trap he found
a bear in it. In springing the dead-fall the ani-
mal had been caught by the hind leg and the bone
had been broken so that he could twist himself
around to a certain extent. Everything within
reach he had torn and dragged towards him,
thus increasing the weight on the strangler or
holding part. . My brother had his gun with him
and getting to within twenty yards of him —
at least that is what he said — ^he fired and the
bear dropped. Remembering my caution he did
not go any closer after his shot, but turned right
back and came for me. He then told me about
having shot it, and he was perfectly sure he had
killed it as it had dropped like a stone. In case
of further trouble, however, I thought we had
better bring the gun along, and getting some
ropes to tie and carry the bear we went back. On
arriving near him we foimd bruin standing up
and watching us coming. Arriving at about fif-
teen feet from him I could see no appearance of
any injury to him from my brother's shot. I
drew a bead on his ear and fired, and there was
no more shamming. That time it was the real
thing. We found no trace of my brother's shot
in him.
It will sometimes take quite a lot of lead to lay
a bear out if he is not struck in the right place.
A side shot in the head and neck or shoulders was
08 BEAR STORIES
considered the safest with the old style gun or
rifle, and a front shot was never taken unless by a
tyro. Many a bear has been lost that way. Now-
adays, however, the penetration of a rifle bullet
is so great that it does not much matter what end
is shot at. The lead is bound to reach the other if
the line is good. The head of a bear facing you
looks pretty big on account of its peculiar shape,
but the brain pan is naturally very small, that of
a large black bear being only three inches in
width and length.
One of the finest black bears I ever secured was
killed with a common shot gun, loaded with A
shot. It was early in May, and I was out duck
shooting. I had gone down about four miles
along the cliffs towards Pointe des Monts. These
cliffs are very steep, covered here and there with
patches of stunted spruce. In the nine miles
that cover the distance between Godbout and
Point des Monts, there are only three small coves
where there is any beach, everywhere else the rock
comes sheer down to the water. I was just oppo-
site one of these places, busy with a flock of
scooters, the female of which I had brought down
and the males continued circling around, keep-
ing me loading as fast as I could, for it was in the
muzzle-loading days. I suppose I had fired
about a dozen shots in quick succession, when
chancing to look shorewards I saw a bear going
along on the beach. I was only about a hundred
BEAR STORIES 99
yards or so out, but he had the lead on me. The
shots I had fired had apparently not frightened
him at all. I had a few loads of A shot in one of
the compartments of my shot pouch, which I al-
ways carried when out ducking in case of meeting
seals. One barrel of my gun was loaded with No.
four shot, which I had no time to extract, so I
loaded only the one barrel with A. shot. Hastily
grabbing my paddle I urged my canoe forward
with all my strength. Although he never ap-
peared to notice me, this quiet jog of his took him
along about as fast as I could paddle, and I had
gained very little on him. I was making a des-
perate effort to shorten the distance, because he
was nearing the end of the cove where he was
certain to enter the woods as he could not get
around the steep rock. Sure enough he did as I
had expected. I was then about seventy yards
from him, and as I knew that this was my only
chance for a shot I fired just as he entered the
scrub with his side towards me. I fancied by the
start he made that I had hit him, but I supposed
only lightly. However, I decided to go and see,
and, hauling up my canoe and reloading, — ^this
time both barrels with the large shot, — I started
in. Just where I had struck him I found some hair
cut by the sfhot. There was still in the woods
patches of snow here and there, which made the
tracking easy, and I had not gone twenty yards
before I found blood, — ^very little, however, and
100 BEAR STORIES
his pace did not so far appear to have slackened.
A few yards further I found he had stopped, and
then I knew he was very sick, but there was no
trace of blood. Continuing, about eighty yards
from where he had entered, I found him on his
side, dead. I broke a dead tree and poked him
in the ribs, keeping my gun close by, but there
was no sham about it. Two pellets only had
hit him, one in the haunch, a mere scratch, and
the other between the ribs behind the shoulder
joint, penetrating to the heart. The shot hole
was so small that only a few drops of blood es-
caped, all the bleeding being internally, which,
I think, caused quicker death.
Our Montagnais Indians claim that the black
bear, previous to entering his den for ths winter,
will swallow a cone of the pine tree, or a small
smooth stone. They assert that the bear does this
to keep his bowels in order, and that as it is eva-
cuated, it is re-swallowed and so on during the
whole winter. I first heard of this from the old
'*Godbout** Chief, who claimed he had himself
found the cone in the intestines of bears he had
killed in their dens. Subsequently many others
have told me the same thing. Personally, I never
had the chance to verify this statement, as I have
only killed one bear in its winter den and that
was previous to my hearing the story. The In-
dians also believe that if a bear is not killed in
its den, but hauled out and killed at some dis-
BEAR STORIES 101
tance from it, the next winter another bear will
occupy it. I believe that this is quite a probable
thing. The bear my brother and I killed while
trapping was shot in the den after I had heard
the story. I revisited the place several times,
but no others had occupied it, though I found evi-
dence of some having passed quite near it. It
was a female I had killed, and though early in
March — about the 10th — she had her cub with
her, a little mite about the size of a kitten. The
den was on the slope of a mountain, with a south-
ern aspect. It was well lined with balsam
branches and grass, some of which had been col-
lected two or three hundred yards away. This
was the first indication of one being near. After
that we hunted around till we found its air hole,
the warmth of the animal causing some of the
snow to melt.
"^obs i (6tA M^ fixfA (Srijjlj* — I terminate
these few notes on bears with a narrative of
how I got my first grizzly. It was during
a hunting trip with Baron de la Grange in
1882. We had outfitted at Fort Washakie,
Wyoming Territory. There we were joined by
some of the military men from the Post, who were
also going out on an expedition — oificial and
hunting combined. Our party, for two weeks,
was composed as follows: — Colonel V. K. Hart,
5th Cavalry, U.S.A.; Dr. Woods, of Indiana —
the Coloners brother-in-law — Lieut. R. E.
102 BEAR STORIES
Thompson, 6th Infantry, U.S.A.; Lieut. H. de
H. Waite, 5th Cavalry, U.S.A.; Baron Ernest
de la Grange, and myself. We had a guide and
three men for our party, and eight regulars, un-
der the command of Sergt. Steele, accompanied
the military party. When we separated two
weeks later, the Baron and I continued on our trip
alone for two weeks more. The sole object of
Dr. Woods' trip was to secure one specimen of
the buffalo, and everything that was possible was
done by all concerned towards the attainment of
this end. I am happy to say that on the fifth day
out the Doctor drew first blood, securing his much
coveted prize, after which he took things easily.
Some days later we camped on Grass Creek, and
in the afternoon paid a visit to Mr. George Bax-
ter, who owned a ranch there and whose establish-
ment was about two miles from our camp. From
him we learned that a few days previous to our
arrival, some of his men had reported seeing two
grizzly bears while they were employed cutting
timber on the upper portion of the creek. As
none of them had lost any bears, they had not
gone after them. We concluded that this would
be a suitable place to spend a couple of days
hunting, as antelope, deer and elk might also be
found. Next morning the hunting party was
divided. The Baron, Lieut. Thompson and the
half-breed guide were to hunt on the west side of
the creek. Lieut. Waite and myself were to take
BEAR BTORIES 103
the east side. Colonel Hart and the Doctor were
to pass the day in camp, as the latter, being ad-
vanced in years, was somewhat tired. Our plan
was to ride up along the creek to the foot of the
mountains about five miles distant, and there tie
our horses and hunt on foot through the timber
belt. The Lieutenant, although a young man
then, had already seen considerable service and
specially distinguished himself during a rising
of the Araphoe Indians. He also knew enough
of woodcraft to be able to hunt alone. On reach-
ing the foothills we picketed our horses, the Lieu-
tenant's a big cavalry horse, and mine, a mustang
or Indian pony. Just at this point there was a
large patch of heavy spruce trees gradually
dwindling in size as we ascended the mountain,
till the timber line was passed. This patch was in
the shape of a triangle with its apex near the
creek. Our lunch and every other cumbersome
thing were left with our horses, as we had a steep
climb before us. We arranged to climb up on
tue open portion east of the timber, and then
coming down, each of us was to take one side of
the wood, meeting at the bottom if no game was
found. We expected in this way that if either
of us started any large game, he would have a
chance of a shot, while at the same time driving
it towards the other. On arriving above the tim-
ber line we sighted three elk, but they were so
far oflF that we decided to leave them alone for
104 BEAR STORIES
the moment, and continue as first proposed, my
companion taking the left slope, while I was to
go around to the right. Lieut. Waite had a
regulation military carbine 45-70 ana a service
revolver. I was armed with a 50 cal. Winchester
Express and a 45 Colt's revolver. After separating
we hunted continuously, expecting to meet about
two hours later. I skirted the wood for a while
and saw some bear signs, but they were not very
fresh. A little later on I came to the bed of a
dried up brook, a very common thing at that
season (September), in Wyoming. Here on the
dry sand and mud I saw the largest bear track
I had ever set eyes upon, but on this dry soil I
could not judge of its freshness. As it followed
down the dry water way, I thought I might just
as well keep on the track for a time, the more so
as the banks of tne brook were steep. I had
gone on in this way for about twenty minutes,
carefully scanning the hill on each side, when I
got sight of my bear. I thought that possibly
he had heard me coming and had left the brook
to climb up the bank. Whatever may have been
the cause he seemed in no hurry to get away. He
was about thirty yards oflf and right above me.
As he moved upwards his rump was about the on-
ly part of his body exposed, except that I got a
momentary glimpse of half of his head when he
turned it to look at me. The time was too short
to get a sure shot and the surface of the animal
BEAR STORIES 105
too slanting, so I decided to try a shot for the
backbone, which I knew would cripple him if hit
fair, and then I could finish him with a second
shot. Taking a careful aim I fired. With a
squeal as if a dozen pigs were butchered, he
dropped in his tracks, and was up almost as quick-
ly, turning towards me. As he turned I took a
second aim for the shoulder, and the next instant
there was a mass of hair and flying branches
coming down on me. I had a third cartridge in^
all ready, but it was impossible to take a sure
shot owing to the manner in which he was coming
down. I therefore waited till he reached the bot-
tom of the brook, which was about ten feet across.
Right near the foot and partly across the brook
there was a fallen dry spruce tree; it was too low
for him to go under, so I knew he would have to
rear up when he got there and that is what I
waited for. As he rose over it I gave him the
third shot right in the middle of the chest. He
came down in a heap, the blood spurting from the
last buUet hole. When we cut him up afterwards
we found that this last shot had cut off the entire
top of his heart and penetrating to the backbone
had broken it, killing him instantly. On the North
Shore I had grown to rather look down upon the
black bear, but as I gazed on that mass of flesh
and the powerful limbs, I realized that the grizz-
ly was deserving of some respect. It was almost
impossible for me to move and skin the animal
106 BEAR STORIES
alone before night, and as I knew that Lieut.
Waite must have heard my shots, and could not
be very far off, I fired three more shots from my
revolver in quick succession, as a signal for as-
sistance. He had in fact heard my three first
shots and had surmised immediately that I had
found the lost bear and forthwith had started in
my direction, but when he heard the second
batch of three shots, he thought I was certainly
cornered and started on the run, being then only
a quarter of a mile or so from me. In a few
minutes I heard him coming. I gave him a shout
which he answered, and sitting down on the bear,
I drew out a cigar, which I had brought for our
mid-day smoke, and lighted it. As he came out he
gave a hurrah, and rising, he shook hands with
me, congratulating me on my good luck. Then
he took a look at the surroundings, while I gave
him the details of the shooting. Well, he said,
*Triend Labradorian,'' — that was my sobriquet
among the party, — ^this cigar smoking of your's
is very fine now, but I think it is a little bit
forced. I wish I had a pocket looking-glass to
give you; and then we had a laugh and another
handshake over it. While I was busy skinning
one side, the Lieutenant agreed to go for the
horses to jack down the skin and some of the meat
to our camp, as the gully was clear enough for
the horses to oome through. On his return he tied
them a bit further down, as the smell of the bear
BEAR STORIES 107
would have made them restless. We had a big
job between the two of us to turn him over and
skin the other side, and we estimated that he
weighed at least nine hundred pounds, but was
probably more. On the back and rump he had a
layer of fat four inches thick. This immense
thickness of fat and the long hair had deceived
me as to my first shot, which had ploughed through
the fat and just cleared the back bone, the shock
of which had been suflBcient, however, to make
him fall. My second one had struck behind the
shoulder, breaking one rib and tearing a portion
of the lung, but as he was turning when I fired,
it had gone too far behind on the other side to do
much damage to his vital parts. When the meat
and skin were ready. Lieutenant Waite went for
my horse, leading him up by the lariat and blind-
folding him with his coat, so that I could load
and jack the skin and meat on him. He was very
fidgetty and pranced around a good deal, but I
managed to finish my work. As soon, however,
as to the lieutenant removed his coat, he gave an
awful snort and broke loose, dashing down the
gully. Very luckily the long lariat W6ts trailing
behind and Lieutenant Waite jumping on his
horse, managed to overtake and stop him by get-
ting his horse to tramp on the trailing lariat.
After some little petting he quieted down and we
had no further trouble, eventually reaching our
camp about five p.m. The other hunting party
108 BEAR STORIES
had returned, but had not been lucky; a fair herd
of antelopes had been sighted, but they were un-
able to get near enough for a shot. Next morn-
ing another load of meat was jacked down and
the balance left for the coyotes.
When we returned to Quebec in December, I
took the skin back with me, and at Messrs. Ren-
frew's request, it was placed on exhibition in a
show window of their splendid fur establish-
ment. Mr. C. Farquharson Smith, who was the
manager of tne bank of British North America,
took a great fancy to it, and although I felt loth
to part with it, I finally let him have it, and I
presume that some member of his family has still
got it in his possession. If so, on the inside of it
will be found this inscription :
Killed by Nap. A. Comeau, on Grass Creek,
Wyoming Territory, Sept. 20th, 1882.
^1^ NE cannot be a fishery officer or guardian for
%j^ forty years without coming into contact
with poachers and finding out many of their
tricks and ways of escaping capture. Many
years ago there were two kinds of poachers on this
coast, — ^the professional, who made a living by it,
and the poacher through necessity, or for the
sport he got at the same time as food* Now-
adays the professional has practically disap-
peared, because nearly every river or brook of any
consequence in the county has a guardian. Be-
sides this there is also the local fishery officer. A
professional poacher needs quite an outfit in the
way of nets and also a couple of boats, in order to
mi^e the illicit business pay. He must also have
means of disposing of his fish, which it is almost
impossible to do now, without being detected.
The second class, however, still exists, and al-
though these cannot cause any serious damage,
they are sometimes very annoying. Their outfit
is very light and may consist of only a landing
net, spear, gaff or snare, easily hid on the person,
and frequently thrown away, when danger is
scented. They also have the sympathy of the
community and no evidence can be had against
them. For many years now I have been in the
no POAOHBRS
habit of travelling at night, or on strange boats,
in order to avoid having my movements reported
by the telegraph operators along the coast.
These poachers sometimes have partners whose
duty it is to watch and signal the approach of the
officer or guardian. This is done in many ways,
either by firing a gun, making a smoke or waving
some object, and if at night by lighting a match
or a fire. In spite of this an odd one is occasion-
ally caught.
The greatest trouble I ever had was with a
half-breed Indian named Wm. Jordan. He was
the youngest son of an old Hudson Bay Co. Agent
here at Godbout. His two eldest brothers were
educated and took to the white man's way of liv-
ing, but the pure Indian cropped out in William.
He never consented to go to school, was very un-
ruly, and finally left his father to go with the
Indians. He was a man of fine physique, over
six feet high, strong as a horse and a splendid
hunter. He was also notorious as being one of
the two Indians who had threatened Dr. Adam-
son and his party and had speared salmon right
in front of their camp. He was arrested and let
off on promise of good behaviour. He never gave
any trouble openly after that, but whenever he
had a chance he would kill a fish now and then for
food. Of course I would know of this by the
signs that were left. This went on for three or
four years, and in spite of the many attempts
POACHERS 111
that I made I could not catch him. He got very
saucy after a time and used to boast about his ex-
ploits in poaching so that I should hear of them.
He carried this so far as to lay out a salmon on a
board that was used as a seat at the pool. I had
guessed long before that he was not alone, but
that he had confederates to warn him whenever
I left the house. I had slept at the pool several
times and had been hiding in the woods to watch
for him for days in succession, but all to no pur-
pose. The pool was over three miles distant from
the house and half of the distance was up the river
by canoe to the foot of the first rapids where the
portage began. Immediately on leaving the river
on the west side there was a high hill, from which
one had a full view of the river right down to the
entrance, and the Indian settlement was right on
the end of this point. Any signal made from this
point could be seen from the hill and ample warn-
ing given. One morning, being tired with
watching, I had slept much later than usual. It
was about ten o'clock, and I was just finishing
dressing when I saw an Indian coming towards
the house. I immediately surmised that Wil-
liam, not seeing me around, was sending this
chap to spy. I told my sister, who was with me,
to try and delay this chap as much as possible,
and to tell him, if he inquired for me, that I had
been gone since morning to mend one of my her-
ring nets in the bay. As the fellow came in at
112 POACHERS
one door I was going out by the other and hiding
as much as possible. I ran for the woods, which
at the house were quite close. My object was
now to reach the river opposite the high hill men-
tioned and if I saw signs of a watchman there,
to continue up the east side of the river, swim
over somewhere and thus get to the pool which
was on the west side. Counting the windings, I
had two miles of nasty walking, partly through
swampy ground, to reach the river. I ap-
proached cautiously on the edge of the bank, and
peering through the branches I saw an Indian
sitting on the top of the hill, watching the river
and smoking his pipe. I began to have hope of
success. I hastened through the woods to reach
a path on the east side and up this I went at top
speed. This path ended at the foot of a steep
cliff forming a small pool, where I stripped and
swam over, carrying what light clothes I had on
my head. I was soon over the quarter of a mile
that remained to reach the last pool, at the foot
of the falls. In the falls itself, which were a
succession of drops, were some deep holes, called
pots, in which the salmon rested in their ascent.
Going quietly over a projection of the rocks I saw
William, spear in hand, watching on the edge of
a pot for a fish to show itself. On the rocks
near by were two dead salmon. I was standing
about fifteen feet from him. A salmon surged up
in the boiling waters. Down went the spear, there
POACHERS 113
were a few struggles and the fish got off. He had
struck too much towards the tail. Speaking
quietly in Indian, I said: ''Yovlt sight is bad,
William P' He turned as if he had been shot at,
and so surprised that I thought he was going to
fall in the river. He stared at me, utterly unable
to speak. *'Give me your spear,'' I continued,
*'and pick up your two salmon and come away
home." Without saying a word, he obeyed.
With my knife I cut away the fastenings of the
jaws and handle of the spear and threw them into
the river, keepmg only the middle steel point.
In the meantime he had placed his two fish in a
bag and had them on his back. To show that I
was absolutely confident I led the way and he fol-
lowed. On arriving at the hill there was another
surprise party for the other chap. He was a
Trinity Bay Indian named "Bajou, ' (Big
Cheeks) . I went up to him, and laying my hand
on his shoulder, said: **You are my prisoner,
come on down!" We went down the hill, where
the canoe was hid in a clump of alders. It was
put in the water and I took a comfortable seat in
the middle, making them paddle me home. On
the way, William foimd his tongue and asked,
*'What are you going to do about us?'* I an-
swered that I did not know yet, that I would con-
sult the superintendent first. After the return
journey I took the two salmon and carried them
to tne Chief, explaining how they had been ille-
gally taken, and that I hoped he would see this
114 POACHERS
was not repeated. The next day William came
to see me. ''I have come to have a talk with
you/* he said. **I never thought you could cap-
ture me, but now that you have, I will make a
proposition to you; if you will let me go, I will
give you my word, I shall never poach on the river
again.'* I said, *'A11 right, I will trust you.''
He kept his word. He lived here many years
after that and never gave me any trouble. Later
on he told me there had been four in his gang.
One used to watch my house, and if uncertain
about my presence, would come in on some pre-
tence or other to see if I was away, in which case
there would be no move. The second kept
watch on the point and would signal to the one on
the hill, who then had lots of time to spare to
warn William and get away. He never knew
how I had managed to evade his three spies.
The most common kind of spear used by Indians
or white men in this locality is the negog, but for
use in deep waters or strong currents the entogan
— a bone spear, is mostly used. The bone piece
is about six inches long and secured by a thong in
the middle, to which can be attached any length
of line necessary. Both points are sharp and the
middle is fitted with a socket, into which a long
Entogan *' {Bone Spear)
POACHERS 116
handle fits. When a fish is struck the handle is
retained in the hand and the bone spear remains
in the fish, gets crosswise and cannot pull out.
The fish is then played and gradually pulled in.
The entogan is sometimes used to spear beaver.
For snaring salmon, dried greased thong, or cop-
per or brass wire is used. The snare is attached
to the end of a stout rod, of birch, mountain ash
or sapling. The loop is seven to eight inches in
diameter, with a foot or more of spare wire be-
tween the loop and the rod. The noose is then
passed imder and around the fish and when about
opposite the back fin a jerk is given and the fish
is snared by the tail.
Fish are frequently shot in from six to fifteen
inches of water; especially pike, on reed beds in
the spring. A perpendicular direction is neces-
sary for a sure shot, unless in very shallow water,
when a slanting shot will kill if proper allowance
is made for refraction of water by aiming below
the fish. Only in very shallow water are fish
actually struck by shot, usually being killed by
the shock alone.
{Indian Salmon Spear)
g[ Croe gftogt S^totp
21 N the spring of 1898 I was ordered by the gen-
ii! eral superintendent of government telegraphs
to clear the way and reconstruct forty-seven miles
of telegraph line betwen Portneuf and Bersimis.
This last place I reached on the 1st of April. A
friend of mine, Mr. A. Lausier, was the operator
in charge of the repeating office. As I had to
remain there a few days, hiring men and pur-
chasing suplies, I availed myself of Mr. Lau-
sier's kind offer to stay with him. He and his
family, consisting of, five persons and a servant,
occupied a fair sized wooden house, formerly the
property of the Bersimis Lumber Company. It
was a two story building with a lean-to addition
which served as a storehouse. The ground floor
was divided into three apartments, a sitting and
dining-room combined, one bedroom and the tele-
graph office. The second floor was divided into
four bedrooms, one of which in the northern cor-
ner of the house, was assigned to me. The en-
tru.nce to my room was just at the head of the
stairs. These faoed the front door, which was
reached by a short passage. A light door closed
the stairs at the foot. Being somewhat tired
after my long day's walk I retired early and was
soon asleep. About eleven o'clock I was awak-
A TRUE GHOST STORY 117
ened by a bark from Mr. Lausier's dog, a large
Newfoundland, which slept on a rug in the sit-
ting room. I also heard some one walking down-
stairs, and, presuming it was some member of the
family, I dozed off again and slept soundly till
morning.
. When I came down for breakfast I noticed
that my host and his wife both looked as if they
had passed a sleepless night. As there were a
couple of young children, I concluded that the
babies had been troublesome. On the second
evening, which was a Saturday, my friend pro-
posed that we should drive over with his dog
team next morning, which would be that of Palm
Sunday, and attend service at the Indian Mission
This was most agreeable to me. It would afford
me the opportunity of meeting my esteemed
friend, Mr. R., the Hudson's Bay Agent, and at
the same time of paying my respects to the Bevd.
Fathers. One of the neighbours had dropped in
and was to join us in our drive across the river.
We retired about half -past nine, for people in the
country, and especially those living on the North
Shore, do not keep late hours. When bidding
thepi good night I remarked for the first time
that I was alone upstairs, all the family and the
servant sleeping downstairs, and apparently all
in the same room. I was rather astonished at
this, as the room was only about fifteen feet
square. However, they had probably some gockl
118 A TRUE GHOST STORY
reasons for it, and it was none of my business to
inquire wtat they were. I sat in my room for
a few minutes looking over some accounts and
other papers and then turned in. As usual I was
soon asleep. At about the same hour as on the
previous night I was again awakened by the
whining of the big dog down stairs, and the
sound of some one moving about and dropping
some heavy object on the floor. **What a careless
servant/* I thought to myself, and went asleep
again. In the morning after an early breakfast
we drove over to the Mission and attended ser-
vice. This Indian mission was under the direc-
tion of Rev. Father Arnaud, a venerable old gen-
tleman of seventy, who had passed fifty years of
his life in missionary work among the Labrador
Indians. Having known me since my childhood
his greeting was most cordial. **You must come
and dine with me, Alex,'' he said, and of course
I accepted. Immediately after mass, my friend
Lausier went to the vestry and had a long pri-
vate conversation with the Rev. Father. We had
an excellent dinner prepared by an Indian cook.
French bean soup, boiled salmon, roast beaver
and vegetables, stewed prunes and cheese, claret
and coffee. On rising from the table Father
Arnaud said to me, '*come over to my room, I
wish to speak to you.'* He produced some
cigars, and beckoning to me to sit down, said.
A TRUE GHOST STORY 119
"you have been staying in Mr. Lausier's since
your arrival, I hear?''
"Yes, Father/'
"Did you notice anything strange about the
house, or hear any noises at night?"
"Well, yes, I did hear some noise," and related
what I have previously described, adding that I
believed it was the servant or some one of the
family. *'Not at all," said the good father, ''the
inmates are all huddled together in one room and
don't dare to move." He then proceeded to re-
peat to me what Mr. Lausier had confided to
him. "Some eight or ten days previous to my
arrival, all the family had been awakened during
the night by an unearthly yell, and then the
tramp of footsteps in the house. The children
and the servant girl who were sleeping upstairs,
ran down screaming. The dog had also heard the
noise and was barking furiously. Lausier had
jumped out of bed and lighted his lamp on hear-
ing the screech, and had then heard the tramping
and noise. With a gun in one hand and his lamp
in the other he had gone through every room in the
house and could find nothing. Every night since,
at about the same hour, the tramping and knock-
ing had been repeated. Lausier and his family
were so frightened and worried over the affair
that they had decided to leave the house, unless
some change took place. "Of course, you know,"
added Father Arnaud, ''that it was in that house
120 A TRUE GHOST STORY
that Mr. Le J committed suicide two years
ago; Lausier believes that it is Le J 's spirit
walking around, and asked me to celebrate a high
mass for the repose of his soul, which is very kind
and good of him, but I don't believe that Le J —
has got anjrthing to do with this. Now, Alex, I
know you are not very easily frightened, and I
wish you would try and find out what is the cause
of all this/'
He hinted that possibly some of the neighbors
knowing Lausier to be a little superstitious, were
trying to frighten him.
I promised I would do my best and let him
know next morning what had occurred. So wish-
ing him good bye I returned with Mr. Lausier to
the telegraph station. In the evening a couple of
the neighbours came in for a chat, but not a word
was spoken about the supposed ghost or spirit
that haunted the house. On the guests' departure
I noticed that my friend locked and bolted the
front door carefully. Bidding the family god-
bye I retired, and took special care to close the
stair passage door well. Being determined to
see what that ghost was made of if I got a chance
to meet him, I took out of my camp bag a spare
hickory axe handle I had brought with me. It
was about eighteen inches long, but sufficiently
heavy to give a good whsx)k. Laying it on the
table near me I took a book and read. Eleven
o'clock came; this was the usual hour. Not a
A TRUE GHOST STORY 121
sound! Was I to be disappointed? Half -past
eleven, and still no ghost came. Evidently he
was not disposed to be sociable. I was getting
sleepy, and had a long day's travelling to do next
day.^ Placing some matches close at hand I put
out the lamp and turned in. My head had
hardly touched the pillow when I heard a light
rap on the house and then footsteps. I listened
intently in the absolute silence that reigned for a
time. Then I could hear distinctly, tramp!
tramp! Someone was coming up the stairs. Now
was my time. I crept out of bed stealthily, grasp-
ed the axe handle, and having left my bedroom
door open on purpose, I made for the stairs;
with arms outstretched I could touch each side of
the stairway. I bumped against the door at the
foot, it was still firmly closed. I opened it and
entered the sitting room. The dog was lying near
the stove, whining. Nothing visible; but hark!
what was that? The footsteps sounded in my
room. Things were getting interesting. I hur-
ried to the stairs, closing the door quietly. On
reaching my bedroom I also closed it, went to the
table quickly, and was striking a match when,
as if to mock me, a tremendous knock was given,
loud and strong enough to vibrate through the
house; then a rush of footsteps on the stairs and
everything was quiet again. The heavy blow had
apparently come from under my bed, or in that
corner, which, as I have said before, was the north-
122 A TRUE GHOST STORY
ern corner. Having lighted the lamp I examined
the room and everything was exactly as I had left
it on retiring. Going to the stairs, I found the
door still closed, and the front door was bolt-
ed as Mr. Lausier had left it. I returned up-
stairs and went through the other three rooms.
There was nothing there either. The ghost had
come and gone without a chance to meet him ! It
was too bad, but the fault was not on my side. I
looked at my watch. It was half-past twelve. I
had no more time to lose if I wanted to get some
rest. Putting the light out I got into bed again,
and slept undisturbed till daylight, when I heard
Mr. Lausier lighting the fire in his stove. Com-
ing down I wished him good morning. "Good
morning,'' said he, "I heard you walking about
and coming down stairs, and of course you saw
nothing.*' I confessed I had not. **It's no
use,'' he went on, **I also looked around every-
where last week. I know it's Le J — 's spirit. It
was in this very room that he died, poor fellow.
His soul is now doing penance for his misdeeds.
I have had a high mass celebrated for him, and
Father Arnaud has promised to have special
prayers offered this week, so I trust that we shall
soon be quit of him." His belief was so firm
that I saw it was no use arguing unless I had
some tangible proof to show him.
The night had been fine and moderately cold,
and as frequently occurs in the spring there was
A TRUE QHOST STORY 123
a hoar frost on the ground. Here and there on
the sandy point remained some patches of snow.
There was a chance to see if some of the neighbors
were concerned in this. I walked around the
house, scanning the frozen ground carefully.
Hello, what was this? I had come upon two
fresh drops of blood! I bent down low. There
was a trace of some animal coming from the nor-
thern side of the house. Following this up I
reached the window of the storeroom. One of the
lower panes was broken and the window smeared
with blood and dog's hair. This was evidently
the ghost's outlet, and it was some satisfaction to
know it had four legs. Going in I told my friend
that if he would allow me to go to his store room
with him I might possibly show him where Le
J 's spirit came in and robbed him, and sure
enough it was as I had expected. Several pieces
of beef and fresh pork were missing. It being
Lent, Lausier had hung up this meat in the up-
per room of the store, till it would be required
at Easter. The whole matter was now quite
plain to me. On the first night, when the dog, a
big Husky, belonging to the mail carrier — ^had
broken the pane of glass, he had cut himself bad-
ly on the head and given a yell of pain. On sub*
sequent nights, as soon as the lights were out, he
would enter the store room, walk up the stairs
and jump for a piece of meat, which being frozen
hard, would come down on the floor like a sledge
124 A TRUE GHOST STORY
hammer and shake the whole house. The stairs
which were attached to the side of the house were
of one-inch boards. Being opposite those of the
house, when the dog went up, in the stillness of
the night, one could have sworn that the house
stairs were being ascended. The window was
boarded up and Le J *s ghost rested peace-
fully, and so did Lausier and his family. ''The
only thing I now regret,*' said my friend, **is
the three dollars paid for the high mass T ' Old
Father Arnaud laughed heartily when I told him
this.
»ea!g mti »ea! Shooting
tn tfie i^t latmtntt ^
^J^^E have in the Gulf and River St. Lawrence
TJL/ six species of seals, five of which are resi-
dents; that is to say that, although subject to
migrations, specimens of them are found here at
all seasons of the year. This statement is not
made on supposition but on personal observation
and experience. The following is a list of the
species: Phoca vittUina, common harbor seal.
Phoca groenlandica, harp seal. Phoca foetida,
floe rat, or ringed seal. Halichoerus, grypus,
horse head or grey seal. Cystophora cristala,
hooded seal, and Erignathus barbatus (?) square
flipper. This last one is the straggler of our
waters, as also the rarest. I have never seen it
in summer. I shot only two of them during the
several winters I spent at seal hunting at Point
des Monts, and saw three or four others killed.
It is one of the largest of our seals; equal almost
in size to the hooded seal, but easily distinguish-
ed by its peculiar yellowish color and the small
size of its head as compared with those of other
seals. I have never seen the young of this seal
here, and presume they breed much further north.
The two I killed were males and were about eight
feet long and very fat. They probably weighed
126 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
seven to eight hundred pounds each. When one
of these is seen at a distance it is easily recog-
nized by its peculiar manner of lying with the
whole of its back out of the water, thus resembl-
ing a buoy, and raising its head occasionally to
breathe or look around. Then it lowers its head
under the surface again, as if looking for some-
thing in the water, frequently diving while in
that position, without raising its head, and going
forward, head first. I never saw any of these on
the ice, like our other seals, probably because of
their scarcity. The smallest of the seals here is
the floe rat, or ringed seal, which last is a very
appropriate name on account of its pretty ring-
shaped markings. The local name here is the
gum seal, but why it is so called I never heard
satisfactorily explained. Many persons con-
found this variety with the harbor seal, but the
least attention will serve to show the difference.
The hair is not so close and fine as that of
the harbor seal, and is not spotted, but marked in
rings. In life they are easy to recognize by their
short stumpy appearance, and by the size and
shape of the fore flippers. They are the only
seals here that keep ice holes open on the large
bays. English Bay and St. Pancras Cove near
Manicouagan, used to be, some years ago, favor-
ite localities for them, but since the establishment
of lumber mills near Manicouagan, they have
forsaken the place or been exterminated, as
I
I
g
i
4
<
I
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 127
they are oomparatively tame and easily shot;
an ordinary duck load of number four or five shot
sufficing to kill them owing to their small size.
The last specimen I saw and killed was at St.
Pancras cove in August, 1887. It was about
three feet long, and weighed betwen seventy -five
and eighty pounds. Looking over some old records
I find I shot a female of this species with young in
March, 1875. The young had a white coat of fur
as in the Greenland and some other seals. The
mother had almost completed the period oi gesta-
tion. In size it was smaller than a harbor seal.
Specimens of this variety were never at any time
numerous enough to be specially sought after, but
were killed while hunting other varieties or in
chance meetings.
^ht Wfl^ ^^sl (|P(r«a (Rvottdmbica)
The Harp or Greenland Seal {Phoca Groen-
landica) is the most abundant of all our seals,
roving up and down the St. Lawrence, in their
migrations, in immense numbers. It is known
under a variety of local names, such as Brassetuc,
Pivelee, Barre Noir, Barre Sale, Coeur Marque,
&c, but these different names are applied to one
and the same seal, according to its age and varia-
tion in color and markings. It is eminently
gregarious, hundreds and even thousands of
them being seen together. I have observed
one herd at Point des Monts more than a mile
128 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
long; there must have been several thousand seals
in it. Greenland seals are to be met with at all
seasons here, but are most numerous in winter,
especially in December and January and the
early part of February, at which time the breed-
ing females disappear and resort to the icefields
in the Gulf, for the purpose of depositing their
young, which they begin to do about the 15th of
February. As in the case of the Harbor Seal, the
young are perfectly white at birth and have a fine
silky coat of about an inch long; if they are killed
within two or three days after birth, this fur is
very fine, but if a longer time has elapsed,
especially if it is fine weather, the hair falls off
quickly and the true hair and color is assumed.
At one year old the color is whitish imder-
neath with occasionally a few black spots
about the size of a ten cent piece. These spots
are not always present, very often the color be-
ing a uniform dirty white. On the back they
have a broad streak of a greyish or blackish color.
In their second year there is a slight change.
The markings are more numerous and are never
absent, the black spots are also larger and more
generally distributed over the body. The color
of the back is not quite so dark and even. In the
third year most of the black spots having en-
larged are merged into each ether and form irreg-
ular patches about the size of a hen's egg or
slightly larger; the color of the spots also begins
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 129
to fade, and they have not the same clearness of
outline. A few bring forth young at this age,
but very rarely. Fourth year: At this age one
may say that they have attained almost their full
size. The two peculiar stripes on the back, from
which I believe they derive their name, as they re-
semble a harp in shape, begin to appear, the
other spots disappear gradually in proportion as
these stripes become more distinct and perfect,
until such time, probably at the age of nine or
ten years, when these two bars and part of the
back of the head and nose alone are black,
all the rest being pure white. After nour-
ishing their young for a period of about
three weeks, the latter are left to their
own resources, and strange to say, they do
not seem to take readily to the water. About
this time the females have lost the immense coat
of fat they had before giving birth to theii: young
and take to the water to feed for a short time,
after which they return to the ice at intervals,
but by the 20th of March again put in an appear-
ance near the shore and feed voraciously. Their
chief food is caplin or herring, but nothing
comes amiss, sculpins, flounders, shrimps and
other small fry being swallowed indiscriminately.
I have also found in them the remains of salmon
and Norwegian haddock, sebastis Norwegicua.
They do not all leave the ice at the same
time, some of them remaining on it till the middle
130 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
of April, and perhaps, in some cases, till still
later, although I do not believe that they stay
much beyond this period, which is their mating
season. Their period of gestation is about the
same as the common seal, that is to say about nine
months. Like it, they also bring forth but one
young at a birth, except in rare instances, a few
of which have come under my own knowledge,
when two are produced. In one case I had shot
the mother before she gave birth to twins. The
males of this species fight very savagely amongst
themselves, frequently bearing scars and marks
from the teeth and claws of their rivals. They
do not seem to be possessed of any sense of smell,
or if so, it is not very highly developed. While
out shooting for them I have frequently seen them
come to the surface, within five or six yards of
and to the leeward of me, and so long as we did
not move they did not pay the slightest attention
to our proximity; on the slightest movement, how-
ever, they would disappear, although, if not too
shy, or previously shot at, they would come up
again a little further off. When shy they do not
reappear except at a long distance and frequently
remain under water from fifteen to twenty min-
utes. When wounded with a rifle ball or a large
buckshot, unless they are nearly dead, they will
go a great distance, but if struck by small shot,
such as Number A, they soon come to the surface.
The only way in which I can account for this is
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 131
that their blood does not flow freely from the small
shot hole in the thick skin, and forming a clot on
the inside soon accumulates and chokes them,
while when struck with a ball or large buckshot,
the wound is large and the blood escapes easily,
thereby enabling them to breathe at their ease.
During the months of July, August, September,
October and November, they are not so numerous,
but as I said before a few are to be seen all the
year round. I have been told by professional seal
hunters that the females have young only every
second year. I am inclined to doubt this state-
ment as it is only founded on the fact that some
adult females are shot during the winter without
young. I have often shot them myself, still I
do not consider this conclusive proof, as the same
thing is observed amongst an mammals, though
perhaps not quite to the same extent. From a
careful observation extending over several years,
I have found that the proportion of males to
females is about equal, that is judging from the
number killed annually at Point des Monts —
about 350 on an average — where they are shot in
the water. Of course when killed on the ice by
the sealers in February and March the number of
females must preponderate. This species and
the comon seal have only two teats and not four
as erroneously supposed by some.
The Harp Seal has six upper and four lower
132 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
incisors, four canine teeth and ten molars in each
jaw.
The length of a full grown harp seal is about
seven feet and the weight three hundred pounds
if in prime condition, nearly one-half of this be-
ing solid fat. I once killed one that yielded
eighteen gallons of oil, but this was much above
the average. To the initiated, seal shooting is
very fascinating sport, in spite of the numerous
dangers attending it, which in the estimation of
some hunters, only add zest to it. Off Point des
Monts, where most of my shooting was done for
some years, we killed most of our seals in open
water, though now and then some would be killed
on the ice. The necessary outfit was a light can-
oe, either wood or birch bark, 14 feet long, three
hardwood paddles, — a spare one in case of a
break, — one harpoon with light handle, eight feet
long, and three or four fathoms of quarter inch
rope attached to it; one barbless hook, made out of
three-eighth inch round bar steel and bent sharply
with a long shank and point and two fathoms of
rope; a large bore gun, 10 guage or heavier ac-
cording to the fancy of the shooter, and cartrid-
ges loaded with SSG to A shot. Some guns per-
form better with some of the sizes between, such as
AAA or AAAA, and as the penetration must be
good, they should always be tested. During my
first winter's hunting I used a 10 guage double
barrelled gun, but after that I gave preference to
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 133
a single barrel 8 bore, together with a rifle, and
that winter I more than doubled the catch of the
regular professionals. In very calm or fine wea-
ther seals are shy, and at such times I used the
rifle to advantage, getting them at ranges varying
from one to three hundred yards. With a good
shot gun, thirty-five to forty yards is considered
a long shot, and on a large seal thirty yards is
far enough. It is surprising how much shot these
animals can sometimes carry away. A seal that
is well hit makes no fuss on the water after the
shot, and will frequently remain for an instant
with the head sticking out of it exactly as
when struck. Then it will fall gradually over
and float on the side, or in some few cases with its
back up, witn head and flippers imder water.
The canoe is paddled up as quickly as possible
and the seal speared in the head or as near to it as
possible, because it happens now and then that
the animal is only stunned by the shock and will
revive. Canoes have been upset by wounded
seals. Sometimes an injured seal has attempted
to clamber into a canoe, probably taking it for a
piece of ice. Others, when wounded, will bite at
the harpoon and canoe or at anything within
reach. If lightly wounded they will go out of
sight in one dive, as seals are very fast swimmers
and the harps will ordinarily stay under water
from ten to fifteen minutes. If hard hit, they
may stay under just as long, but will not go far.
134 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
apparently going down to the bottom and rolling
there. On returning to the surface the head will
generally be swollen and with nose pointed up-
wards and eyes closed tightly, they will float, bot-
tle fashion. They should then be approached
very close in order to finish them, as if in poor
condition they sink very fast when in that posi-
tion. The harp seal has peculiarities which en-
ables one to distinguish it from other varieties
and to act accordingly. One of these is the queer
habit it has of swimming on its back with only
the tip of the nose and throat, and now and then
a portion of the chest out of water. Whole
herds will sometimes swim in this manner, travel-
ling at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour.
It is useless to shoot at them in that position, as
no vital part is exposed. A slight noise or a whis-
tle, will sometimes cause them to raise the head
so as to secure a shot. Another of their peculiar-
ities is that of bobbing up and down three or four
times in the same place and throwing the head
back, frequently diving that way. They are also
fond of following in the wake of a canoe, and ad-
vantage is always taken of this fact. When a
seal is sighted, the canoe is directed near the place
where it rose, but not over it. The canoe is then
turned around and backed slowly with the pad-
dles, the shooter watching in the wake, and the
chances are that the seal will come up in it. If
very close, no movement must be made, when.
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 136
after taking a look, it will go down and reappear
a little further, or if tame, possibly in the same
place. The shooter, in the meantime, having
raised his gun to his shoulder, gets a shot. When
**harps*' are on cakes of ice — small pieces — ^they
are very shy, but on large fields they are easily ap-
proached by walking. The most favorable time
for seal shooting of * 'harps'* is in very cold
weather and early in the morning. At that time
they come nearer shore to feed, and the dense va-
por arising from the water makes them less wary.
One must be clad as lightly as compatible with the
temperature, and covered with a light white cot-
ton overall. The exercise of working the canoe
keeps one warm enough, and the light clothing al-
lows of quicker movements, which are often neces-
sary, not only in shooting, but in avoiding mis-
haps. The dangers attendant on harp seal shoot-
ing are getting upset by a wounded seal or in
hauling a dead one aboard the canoe, getting nip-
ped among pieces of moving ice, or stuck in slugh
ice or snow, breaking through ice while walking
on it, getting frost-bitten, and the usual danger of
handling firearms, with the additional risk of be-
ing hit by some stray pellets of SSG from other
canoes. No fatal accident has ever happened
at Point des Monts that I know of, but some
hunters have been wounded. The weather has
also to be watched with care to avoid being caught
by snowstorms or gales of wind. So my readers
136 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING.
will see that it is a sport with enough of variety
about it to make it interesting and to necessitate
keeping one's eyes open. One of my younger
brothers and his partner, Chouinard, got upset
two miles off Point des Monts while seal shooting
some years ago. It was by the merest chance
they were saved, the canoe having drifted towards
a piece of ice upon which they managed to climb
and empty the water out of the canoe, after
which they made for shore in all haste. They did
not feel much the worse for the wetting, but my
brother lost his whole outfit, including my 8 bore
Greener— **01d Sure Kill''— which I had lent
him for the winter. I often think of this fine old
gun and the sport I had with it, but which alas !
like McGinty, is now '*lying at the bottom of the
sea". Owing to the low price of seal oil at the
present day, few hunters now follow sealing as a
business in winter. There also appears to be a
great decrease in the number of the harp seal in
the St. Lawrence. Its westernmost range in the
River St. Lawrence is about Murray Bay. I saw
a few there again last year (1908).
flht %exbm S^tsi (f (r^ca Vitxdma)
Next to the ''harp" in importance and numbers
is the Harbor or Common Seal (Phoca vittUina) ,
or, as it is called by the natives, the ''wise seal".
Seals of this variety are tolerably common in the
St. Lawrence, especially in and about the estu-
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 137
aries of most of our laxge rivers. Their reason
for frequenting these places is two-fold : first to
deposit their young on the numerous shoals or
sand bars, which always occur at the mouths of
these rivers; secondly for food, the innumerable
quantities of small fry which descends these
streams, such as young trout, grilse, salmon,
smelts, tommy-cods, etc., falling an easy prey to
them. As a rule they always keep near the shore,
being very rarely met with at any distance from
it. They have a very keen sense of smell, much
more so than any other seal that I know of; at
least, if the others possess it equally with them,
it is not so apparent. This accounts for the dis-
tinction which the Indians give to it by calling it
the **wise sear\ With the exception of the
young, they are very shy and difficult to shoot,
never exposing more than a small portion of the
head when in the water. Care must also be taken
in approaching them to keep under their lee,
while they, on their part, continually endeavor
to go to leeward of the hunter. During the sum-
mer months they very often get on top of some
solitary rock or large stone and bask in the sun
for hours. In places where they are occasionally
shot at they never land or approach the shore,
unless the wind is off the island, when they can
soon detect the presence of man even at a distance
of two or three hundred yards. Their period of
gestation is probably about nine months. Of this.
138 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
however, I am not positive, as I have never had
sufficient opportunity to make sure of it; but I
am led to thinR so because they will come to
a call, if properly made, during the month
of September. They bring forth their young
during the months of June and July, but mostly
in July. The little ones are perfectly white
at birth, but after a few minutes their first coat
is lost and they take their true hair and color,
which is whitish on the under parts and well spot-
ted and marked (black and white) on the back.
At the end of two or three weeks they jare left to
shift for themselves. They are very fat, and
yield about two gallons of oil on an average, more
than half their weight being fat. This coat of fat
is soon lost, however, and at the end of July or
early in August they have little more than four
or five pounds of it left. They then feed
voraciously and soon put on a sufficient layer to
protect them from the winter's cold. The harbor
seals do not migrate, but are here winter and
summer. They are not gregarious, and in open
water are seldom met in any numbers; three or
four together at the most. At the time of bring-
ing forth their young they congregate on sand
banks or rocky islets. Numbers also assemble to
rest or bask in the sun, and if disturbed, scatter
in all directions. Unlike our other seals, they
seem to delight in fresh water, ascending the
rivers for long distances, and occasionally going
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 139
over strong rapids. On the Bersimis and Moisie
Rivers, notably the first, I have seen them fifty
miles up the streams. In the St. Lawrence Biver
I saw one two miles above Three Rivers about the
end of September, 1891. I have also read of the
capture near Montreal on one or two occasions,
of seals, which I have no doubt were of this
species. Harp seals will occasionally enter the
mouths of large rivers, but will not remain there,
going out with the ebb tide. I suppose that it
is their familiarity with weeds and fresh water
plants that makes harbor seals so fearless of nets.
Large numbers are captured in them, more
than are killed with guns. Since the recent
increase in value of their skin, they are much
sought after by hunters. About three thousand
are now annually taken, along the coast line of
the County of Saguenay, but it is doubtful if they
will stand this drain very long. In the hunters'
greed for them, many are uselessly shot in fresh
water, where even if tolerably fat they will sink
like a stone. Regular professionals never shoot
at them, except where the bottom can be plainly
seen, and where it allows of them being secured
with long-handled harpoons. In salt water,
if in fair condition, they will float. The equip-
ment for shooting them is similar to that used for
the harps, care being taken to have the canoe and
clothing of a color that will blend as much as pos-
sible with the surroundings. Much smaller shot
140 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
is also used, numbers one and two being favorite
sizes, and giving a better pattern; very neces-
sary, considering that only about one inch of the
skull is exposed.
Some peculiarities of these seals in the water
are swimming dog fashion, and when alarmed,
jumping six or seven feet clear out of the water.
The females will invariably alarm their young
when in danger in the water, by thus jumping
over them and sinking them, but there is no foun-
dation for the stories that are told that they
carry their young in their mouth like a cat or dog.
When basking in the sun, on a rock or shoal, they
will push the young over into the water with a
shove of the nose, on the approach of danger.
The best time of year to shoot them is during the
summer months, from July to the end of October.
At other times of the year, if there is any ice
about, their acute hearing makes it almost im-
possible to get near them. Not a word is ever
spoken between the steersman and the shooter
when out after them. A sign of the head or
hand, or a slight shake of the canoe sufiSces to
attract the attention of either. When one is
near, the steersman alone must propel the canoe,
keeping the blade of his paddle in the water all
the time. As the animals are very curious, they
seldom get away at the first sight of danger, but
always try and get wind of the object. I was
very much amused once at Little Metis, by watch-
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 141
ing a yearling harbor seal play with an empty
bottle, that had been thrown overboard by one of
the passengers on the yacht ** Swallow/' I had
my rifle with me and was watching the bottle
drift until it would be far enough for a decent
shot. While thus occupied I saw a seal come up
about thirty yards from it, sniffing and peering
at it. At the next dive it came closer, going
through the same performance, till at the third
one it got alongside of it with a splash. It then
jumped over it and poked it about with its nose,
seemingly trying to get it under, until I put a
stop to its antics by taking a shot and missed it.
I cannot imagine what made it act so, but the
passenger claimed that it was the smell of the
**Kilmarnock,'* though I will not vouch for this.
Skilful hunters lure them by imitating their
call and movements, while lying on a rock
or sand bar frequented by them. When well per-
formed, and the hunter's back is covered with a
sealskin, they will come up to within a few feet
if attention is paid to the direction of the wind.
About dawn is the best time for this mode of hunt-
ing. To show how naturally the seals can be
imitated, I may say, that even the practical eye
of an Indian has been deceived. While we were
living at Mingan, **Natsishuk," — *'The one who
looks in the eye" — Chief of that locality, was shot
at and nearly killed by another Indian while he
was thus acting seal on a rock. He was so severe-
142 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
ly wounded that he was laid up for six months.
I find harbor seal shooting, as a sport, very in-
teresting, the more so, as it can be followed dur-
ing the pleasantest season of the year and in
sheltered situations. To the novice it may be a
little disappointing at first, but he must remem-
ber that most sports are alike in that respect.
Adult seals of this species are seldom shot, except
at long ranges, with a rifle. A full grown one is
about five feet long, and weighs about one hun-
dr.ed and fifty pounds, more or less, according to
condition. The flesh is very highly esteemed by
our ''natives,'' while many others have a predi-
lection for its liver, which I share. The livers
of other species are also very palatable and not
poisonous as erroneously asserted by some; the
heart is also considered a tid bit. The oesophagus
and stomach are used by the ''natives" as a water-
tight vessel for various purposes, oil, molasses,
powder, etc., being carried in them. They are
first washed and scraped, then blown and dried,
after which they are ready for use. That of a
large harbor seal will hold one imperial gallon,
but I have seen some from the larger species that
hold five or six gallons.
Seals of this species are presumably so named
from a slight resemblance of the head to that of
the horse, especially noticeable in old males.
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 143
They are nearly as large as hooded seals. I
have the measurements of two adult specimens,
which I shot, as follows: One male in July,
1898, seven feet ten inches from tip of nose to
end of flippers, girth four feet seven inches, and
weight, in poor condition, 374 pounds. The
second one was a female with young, shot on the
26th of October, 1901, at Manicouagan, while on
my way to Tadousac in a canoe : length seven feet
four inches, and estimated weight at about 500
pounds. The young was about two feet and a
half long, and fully matured, which shows that
these animals have their young in the fall and not
in the spring like other species. The color of the
young was like that of most other seals, yellowish
white. The stomach of the female was cranuned
full of smelts and flounders, but I suppose this
was due to the abundance of these fish more than
to selection, because in other specimens I have
found a larger variety of food. When they feed
near rocky places, sculpins, rock eels, and lump
fish seem to be their chief food. In June and
July, however, they are fastidious in their tastes
and feed on salmon, but not always on their own
catch. The one I shot in July, 1898, had been
robbing my brother's net for more than a week,
and had gone through it several times. My bro-
ther had fired several shots at it with a shot gun,
all at long ranges, to drive it away, but it re-
turned daily. I ended his tricks with a Win-
144 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
Chester Express at 150 yards. These horse-head
seals do not seem to be at all frightened of nets,
and at Manicouagan they are the terror of the
harbor seal hunters, going through their strong
nets like cobwebs. Luckily for the fisher-
men of both salmon and seals, they are not
very numerous, though some few are scat-
tered all along the coast and around Anti-
costi Island. Their chief resorts are the
Mingan Islands, Cawee Islands and the Mani-
couagan Shoals. But they roam much further
west, as, early in October, 1886, I shot a
two-year-old female, at Seal Reef (near the Pil-
lars), 45 miles below Quebec. They are not suf-
ficiently numerous anywhere in the Province to
be of any conunercial importance. Mr. J. Thi-
beau, of Manicouagan, assured me that he killed
one there of nine feet in length. They are very
savage and fight fiercely together solely to main-
tain a position on a rock or shoal. The harbor
seals are often found with them, but they keep at
a respectable distance. Except very late in the
season, towards October; it is very difficult to
save any of these seals, as they sink almost like
stones when killed. The only chance is when
they are in shallow water, where the bottom can
be seen. They are intensely fond of keeping near
the foot of cliflFs or bold rocks in stormy weather,
seeming to delight in the boiling sea, where one
would expect them to be dashed to pieces. In
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 145
general they descend for a considerable time un-
der water, and then remain on the surface, the
head only showing for two or three minutes. They
make no fuss in diving and never show their back
like some other seals, but just slip down out of
sight, as it were by their mere weight. They are
never specially sought after, except out of ven-
geance by the fishermen when they happen to des-
troy their nets, or else if wanted as specimens
for museums. I shot one for the Smithsonian
Institute some years ago. The surest way to
secure them is to decoy them in, near shoals, by
imitating their movements and bellowing.
Heavy shot or a rifle must be used and stormy
weather is the best time. Their sense of smeU
is very keen, and care must be exercised on that
point. When the deception is well performed
they will actually come up on the shoal to fight
the occupant. Their color varies very much, ac-
cording to age. Adults are sometimes quite black
on the back with lighter markings on the sides.
The yearlings are yellowish with light greyish
blotches on the sides and back.
(Note) — Since the above was written a large
female of this species was killed at English Bay,
Manicouagan, on the 16th October, 1908. Mr. D.
Malouin, who killed it, says the foetus was about
three feet long and the mother eight feet. It
yielded twenty-two gallons of oil, which at
twelve pounds of fat per gallon, would give 264
146 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
pounds. Judging by the ordinary proportions in
well oonditioned seals, this would give 600 pounds
as about the total weight of the animal. The
skin, which I saw a week later, was almost black
on the back; foetus yellowish white.
This is the largest of our seals — speaking from
personal observation — and the lion of the lot.
Although specimens are to be found in the St.
Lawrence at all seasons, spring is the time of
greatest abundance. During the years that I
was seal shooting at Pointe des Monts, smaU herds
used to appear there about the 20th of March,
gradually increasing in numbers till the same
date in April, when they would begin to disperse,
some moving westward as far up as Tadousac.
In May a good many would be killed around
Escoumains; later they scattered all over the St.
Lawrence. Favorite localities were around Bic,
Manicouagan, and the strong ripples of Pointe
des Monts. I shot five females in one day off the
Manicouagan shoals, April 6th, 1882. Three of
them were of the variety caUed *'dark,*' but
which is only due to age, the young ones being
always lighter in color. Yearlings have no spots
on them, but have only a dark band on the back
with yellowish sides and belly. The young are
not born white, as in other species, but have a
greyish colored band on the back and sides with
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 147
under parts yellowish. A foetus taken from a
female that I shot November 14th, 1893, and pre-
sumably about six months old, showed the same
markings. The texture of the hair was not so
fine either as in the harps or harbor seal. In
1878, one whelped on the ice between Godbout
and Pointe des Monts, about February 20th, and
the young was as above described. It was a day
or two old when found. These seals bring forth
their young regularly on the ice in the gulf, and
all those, or nearly all that appear off Pointe des
Monts in March are females that have already
deposited their young, as shown by the supply of
milk in their udders, which is then still abundant.
They are thin, and their stomachs and intestines
are contracted and knotty. Their object in
coming near land is to feed, which they do voraci-
ously. Their food consists chiefly of caplin,
flounders, sculpins, herring, a species of small
shrimp, Norwegian haddock, &c. On such a
varied and liberal diet they put on fat at about
the rate of one inch per week. Only .the
males have hoods, and when these are inflated
it gives them a very formidable appearance.
They are very fierce, and will not hesitate, when
wounded, to attack a hunter, on the ice, or in a
canoe. As they are of an immense weight and
very tenacious of life, they are no mean adver-
sary. The females will seldom attack a hunter
when in a canoe, but I was told that the female
148 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING
killed with her young near here (Godbout) was
very savage, and attacked the hunters immedia-
tely. I never saw a female with her young on the
ice, so I cannot speak very positively on this sub-
ject. Of the fair number of females which I
have shot in the water — about one hundred and
twenty — only three or four made any serious show
of fight. The length of an adult male is eight
to nine feet, judging from some I killed, but my
brother Edmond, who was a professional seal
hunter, claims to have killed one that was eleven
feet four inches long. Although not very fat it
yielded five hundred and twenty pounds of oil.
The two largest I ever killed weighed about one
thousand pounds, judging from the amount of
their oil, but my brother's must have reached near-
ly twelve hundred pounds. The average adult fe-
male, when in good condition, yields 30 to 40 gal-
lons of oil, and weighs around eight hundred
pounds. These seals are in primest condition
about December, when they begin to seek pieces of
ice near the entrances of our large rivers, such as
the Bersimis, Outardes, and Manicouagan, and
let themselves drift on it for days without feed-
ing. Nothing smaller than S.S.G. shot is used
here, and twenty yards is a good range. They
are never shot at in the nose or facing the shooter,
except if the head is high enough out of water to
expose the throat. A side shot or one in the back
of the head is the surest. On calm or warm days
SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 149
they lie at full length on the surface of the water
apparently sleeping. I have often approached to
within a few feet of them when in that position.
Others will sleep — at least the eyes are closed — ^in
a perpendicular position, and at such times
afford easy and sure shots. Some, on sighting a
canoe, will rush towards it, snorting and making
the water fly, and only stopping when fired at.
These are the kind one has to be careful of. It
is wonderful to see how active such a mass of fat
and flesh can sometimes be. In fine weather I
have frequently timed them, and found they
could remain under water twenty to thirty
minutes. To be very exact, twenty-seven minutes
was the longest I timed.
When a large **hood** is killed, two canoes
join to drag it ashore, or to a nearby piece of
ice, where it is hauled up with the steel hooks,
the blubber and skin removed in one piece
and the carcass thrown away. If it has to be
towed far, a small hole is punctured in the
chest, and inflated by blowing into it, so that
there is less drag and no danger of losing it in
case it gets by accident out of the hook. Some
years ago many schooners went out sealing from
Natashquan and Esquimaux Point. Some of
their captains told me that when any large hoods
were sighted, on loose pans of ice, they never at-
tempted to go near them with their canoes or
small flat boats, but would sail down on them
150 SEALS AHD SEAL 8HOOTIKG
with the yeasd. Fhne or six of the hunters would
then take their position near the bow, and while
the seal's attention would be directed to the mass
of canyas above him, a whole broadside would be
fired at ten or fifteen yards. For some years past
I have not been able to devote any time to seal
shooting, but I have heard from others that the
number of hoods has very much decreased near
PointedesMonts owing, it is believed, to the num-
bers now killed in the Gulf by Newfoundland
sealing steamers. I should be very sorry to see
them disappear from our waters, because they are
fearless and plucky, and in my estimation, as
game animals, far aJiead of any black bears I have
ever met.
3| WAS trapping one winter near ''Shetaga-
Jf mau,'* a large lake at the head of the Tota-
nnstuk River. My brother Firmin was my
*'pard'* that year. There were several families
of Indians in the vicinity, and though we had
seen some of their signs, we had not met them.
About the end of January we received a visit
from two of them — old Pierre Uapistan— ** The
Marten *' — and one of the Ashinis. We spread
out a good meal for them, and after supper the
old man explained that he was getting up a cari-
bou battue. They knew where there was a large
herd, and he was then getting together all the
men available in the neighborhood for a big
hunt. Would we join ? A fair share would be
distributed to us, whether we killed any or not.
If we were willing to go, a young man would
come for us when ready. I agreed to go with my
brother. Some ten days later the youngster
came as promised and we accompanied him back
to their permanent camp, about twenty miles
north-east of our's. I believe I was then the only
person on the coast who owned a rifle, a Ken-
tucky Ballard, which I had taken with me, and
one box of fifty cartridges. My brother had a
Hudson's Bay 24 bore flint lock, that had been
162 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT
converted into a percussion cap gun. We found
several families of Indians at the camping
ground , and there were two or three others near
at hand. We were about four miles from the
range where the caribou were feeding, and pre-
parations had already been made to round them
up by having a lot of small black spruce trees
planted near the entrance of a lake, about three
miles long. Gaps had been left here and there
about one hundred yards wide, at each of which
a hunter was to be stationed, forming, when the
inlet would be closed, a regular pound, — ^the cor-
ral of the West. We had to wait two days for
suitable weather — ^strong wind and snow. Be-
fore daylight the leaders were ojff, and the balance
were stationed by old Pierre near the inlet and
on the sides of the pound. The idea was for the
leading hunters to get beyond the caribou, and
coming back on them, drive them down to the
inlet, and so on to the lake, which they would
naturally make for, to escape the deep snow.
The hunters driving the caribou were to shoot all
they could in the drive, but those stationed at
the inlet were not to fire a shot before the last
caribou of the herd had gone past them, which
would thus place the whole herd in a circle of
about six hundred yards wide. It was a well ar-
ranged plan. I was the second gun at the inlet,
with my brother next to me. At about an hour
after daylight we began to hear the first shots
AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 163
gradually drawing nearer, till half an hour later
the herd burst into view, on the inlet ice, making
the snow fly like miniature snow ploughs. I have
seen some fair herds of buffalo, elk and ante-
lopes, but somehow they did not make so pretty
a sight as these caribou, possibly owing to the dif-
ference in the surroundings and to the snow. There
were about one hundred and sixty in the herd,
and as soon as the last one had passed the gap at
the inlet the shooting began. Catching a sight of
the spruce trees and hearing the reports coming
from all quarters, the caribou bunched up on the
lake, the leading hunters joining in the shooting
as they came up in the rear. The fusilade was
now a continuous one. Now and then, as a cari-
bou dropped, others would come up and sniff at
it, only to meet the same fate. A rush of the herd
would sometimes be made, only to be turned by
more shots from in front of them. This would
have continued until the last animal was killed,
but for an untoward circumstance. A caribou was
struck by a bullet near the eye, which stunned it,
knocking it down. A minute or two later it re-
covered consciousness and got up, walking half
dazed and bleeding towards one of the hunters
stationed around the pound, — one Michel Ashini,
— ^a young hunter of about eighteen. Possibly
believing it to be more seriously wounded — ^that
was hi^ version — ^but more probably to show off
his skill as a hunter and runner, he left his gun
154 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT
at his stand and went forward to meet and brain
the wounded animal with his tomahawk. Unfor-
tunately for Michel, the animal was too quick for
him. Taking a jump it rushed past him like a
steam engine and out through the gap he had
left open. In a few seconds all the others had
followed suit, and were dashing down the lake like
a cloud. Seventy-six lay dead inside the pound,
and five had been killed in the drive down by the
leaders. We were about sixteen guns in all, and
some three hundred shots were fired. My share
was thirty-eight. The shooting was within a
radius of half a mile, and not a scratch was re-
ceived by anyone, which shows how careful all
the shooters were. The whole hunt, including
the drive, had lasted about two hours. Some of
the young bloods were despatched to the camps,
and returned with the squaws, and the cut-
ting and skinning began. Three only were
cut up for the evening meal and breakfast
next morning, but all were gutted and placed
in double rows, and then covered with snow
to prevent freezing, as the real work of cut-
ting up and dividing would only take place next
day, for instead of hauling all this meat to camp,
the latter was shifted to the meat. The head,
heart, liver and kidneys, are generally all eaten
fresh, but the tongues and the meat are smoked
and dried, the flesh being cut in long, thin strips.
The intestines are cleaned and filled with all the
AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 166
shreds and scraps of fat, making a sort of sau-
sage, which is also smoked. The stomach is emp-
tied of about half its contents of partly digested
moss, and all the blood that it is possible to col-
lect from the animal, is dipped out of the chest
cavity and poured into it ahd the orifices tied up.
It is then hung up inside of the camp, where it
is exposed to the heat of the camp fire. Fermen-
tation soon takes place and it begins to swell with
the gas. The squaw then pierces it with a
wooden skewer and allows the air to escape. In
about a week it dries into a red brick-colored
mass, and is ready for use. A few eat it in this
dry state, but the usual way is to make it into a
stew. Water is set to boil, a piece of this com-
position of moss, blood and caribou hair is then
broken into it and flour added until it becomes of
the proper consistency. It is then eaten like
soup. All the bones, principally the 1^ ones,
are then collected and broken with an axe, and
set to boil in a large kettle. As much of the whole
marrow as comes to the surface in boiling is col-
lected and laid aside to cool. The boiling of the
bones then continues for several hours, generally
all night. In the morning it is placed outside,
where the fat usually comes to the surface and
solidifies. It is then skimmed, more bones put
in and the same process gone over. When suffi-
cient fat and marrow are collected to make a large
cake, they are melted, the marrow chopped into bits
156 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT
and then poured into a birch bark mould to oool.
A god sized cake will weigh about ten to fifteen
pounds, as white as driven snow, with the bits of
marrow looking like raisins in it, and it is really
delicious eating. After the meat is dry, the
strips are packed and pressed down into a par-
cel of about sixty pounds, then wrapped up in
thin birch bark and laid aside till required. It
will keep good for two years or more, the outside,
only, becoming a little blue-moulded, as is seen
on hams or bacon at times. We spent a week
with these Indians, and had a good time, eating
lots of venison and watching all these diflFerent
operations. How many caribou we killed be-
tween my brother and I we shall never know,
but in the division of the spoils by the head man,
old Pierre, my share was set down as two. It was
all neatly cut up and partly dried for us, and a
bit of fat cake added. We made no claim for the
stomach pudding.
(Kitrili^ti ttaribxm
There is an immense diflFerence between our
wild northern caribou and what I call the civi-
lized animal, such as is found near the settle-
ments around Matane, Quebec, and Bale St.
Paul. Here we have to take the greatest pre-
caution in locating their feeding ground, for if
they cross our tracks they will be miles away in
twenty-four hours if they can manage it. The
AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 167
same thing will happen if they get scent of our
camp fires, and the least creak of a shoe or broken
twig will startle them.
A little hunt I had one year near Quebec will
serve to illustrate the difference in habits I have
described. One morning, about the middle of
September, I was going along St. Peter street,
Quebec, when I chanced to meet Mr. E. W.
Methot, an old sporting acquaintance. After the
usual greetings, he told me he was getting ready
to go out on a caribou hunt with his friend, Mr.
E. N. Chinic, now of the Chinic Hardware Co.,
and invited me to join them. He said that the
prospects were good, as lots of caribou tracks had
been reported by his lumber men. Not being
very busy just at that time I promised to go, and
getting my snowshoes, rifle and hunting bag
ready, we started out next day for Methot 's
mills, the residence of our host. He owned tim-
ber limits on the head waters of the Beaurivage
and Du Chene rivers, and had some lumber camps
there, and one of these was to be our headquar-
ters. We slept at Methot' s mills, and early next
morning we were en route in a berlot, a sort of
sleigh with low runners and boxed up like a
cariole, with low seats, a very comfortable and
handy vehicle in bad roads. We reached the
camp about three p.m., and were joined there
by Mr. Hamel, the head foreman. He was
thoroughly acquainted with the country in the
,168 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT
vioinity, and was to join in the hunt and act as
guide at the same time. He told us that he had
seen many caribou and a few deer tracks recently,
so that we had high hopes for good sport next
day. The weather had been very cloudy all the
afternoon, and towards noon snow began to fall
with a light east wind, which gradually increased
to a gale during the night, and next morning
about fourteen inches of snow had fallen.
About ten a.m. it cleared up a little. Mr.
Hamel proposed a walk in the direction where he
had seen the latest fresh tracks. The under
brush was loaded with snow and the walking
was very soft. I had a large pair of broad Mon-
tagnais snowshoes (26 inches in width) and with
these I could get along tolerably well, but all the
rest of the party had the long and narrow shoe
and went a good deal deeper than I did. We
walked about two miles, seeing no tracks, and re-
turned to camp and thence to Mr. Methot's house,
there to await more favorable weather, leaving
orders with his men that if any of them saw deer
or caribou tracks they were to report to us im-
mediately. Some scattered settlers along the
lumber road were also advised to the same effect.
On our way back we saw many hares, a few of
which were shot with the rifle by Mr. Chinic.
Shortly after our tea, one of the farmers we had
notified, drove in. He reported that five or six
caribou had crossed his wood road late that after-
AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT ^59
noon and that some had even come out not a hun-
dred yards from his barn. His farm was about
two miles distant and we could drive right up in
the morning, when he would show us the tracks.
Preparations were consequently made for a very
early start. We had breakfast at four a.m. and
drove up, reaching the farm house at the first ap-
pearance of daylight. The fellow had not exag-
gerated, for there, in plain sight from his house,
was the caribou track. On going up to it I saw
it was a large one. The animal had been feeding
around there and in doing so had crossed the road
several times, and what the farmer had believed
was the track of five or six animals, was in real-
ity that of one only. I was simply astonished.
Here was a caribou crossing men's tracks, wood
roads, and poking around farm yards without
the least appearance of alarm. Truly this was a
'' civilized caribou. *' I picked up the freshest
track and we were off. Mr. Hamel gave us an
idea of the lay of the land. In a southwesterly
direction there was an unbroken stretch fourteen
miles, and seven or eight miles due west of the line
of the Grand Trunk Railway. The general
trend of the trail was westerly. We made sever-
al short cuts on it. The walking was still very
bad, and though owing to the very large size of
my snowshoes I did not feel it as much, my break-
ing of the road was of very little help to my
friends. About ten a.m. Mr. Methot pulled up
leo AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT
with a bad stitch in his side. He was a very
heavy man and the soft snow was telling on him.
He decided to turn back, and as Mr. Chinic would
not let him go alone, it was arranged that Mr.
Hamel and myself were to continue the hunt.
About an hour later my companion gave up also,
the pace and the soft walking being too much for
him. For my part, I was bound to see the end of
that trail; a North Shore hunter was not to be
outdone by this half domesticated animal. About
one p.m. the trail was very fresh and I was going
ahead very cautiously, when I heard a rumbling
sound. It was a train going east, and pretty
soon I heard the toot-toot of the locomotive for a
crossing, and then a few seconds later it dashed
past, a couple of hundred yards from where I
stood. I now felt sure that my game was gone,
for the moment at least, as I believed no wild
animal would stand such a racket without being
startled. Imagine my surprise, to find it quietly
eating about sixty yards further. I was then
about sixty feet from it, and I watched it for
some moments, pulling off and crunching a sort
of green moss, shaped like a large leaf that grows
under large leaning trees. Here was the end of
the trail and the rest was soon over. A shot in
the back of the head laid it low; it was a fine
large male that weighed, dressed, 185 pounds.
I had shot it eighty yards from the railway track.
I went back over the railway line, and in the
AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 161
evening returned for it with a berlot. As Mr.
Methot did not feel equal to resuming the hunt
just then we returned to Quebec. Some days
later a nice dinner party at Mr. Chinic's, with a
saddle of caribou as a piece de resistance, ended
our hunt. The stomach pudding was not on the
menu.
la tgragebp on tfte ^rtft i^ftore
3N the fall of 1870, a poor fisherman named
Ouellet was wending his way homewards
to Riviere Quelle. He had been fishing around
Perce and the Gaspe Basin. Cod fish had been
scarce and the weather boisterous, and thirty-
eight dollars was the net proceeds of two months
of hard work. To save expenses he decided to
sail back home in his boat, a barge of 25 feet
keel. One day, late in October, with a strong
south-west wind, he anchored for shelter at Ste.
Anne des Monts. A small boat from shore came
out to him. Its occupant, a man 'of fifty years or
so, exchanged greetings with Ouellet. After a
few ordinary questions, P , for such was
his name, invited him ashore. "'The nights are
cold and long," he added, "'and a warm house is
preferable to an open boat.*' Ouellet accepted
with pleasure. After supper, while smoking
their pipes, P found out all he wished to
know, — what money Ouellet had made, where he
was bound to, and what little he had in his boat.
The total value of his belongings was about one
hundred dollars, but that was sufficient to arouse
P 's cupidity, and from that moment poor
Ouellet was doomed. How to get rid of him was
now his only thought. P was well acquainted
A TRAGEDY ON THE NORTH SHORE 163
with the North Shore of the St. Lawrence, and
had at different times spent a few months there
in trapping and fishing. Long stretches of coast
line, thirty to forty miles, were often without a
habitation. In that direction was his chance, he
believed, and his plan was laid. **Why friend,''
he said, **I am sorry to see you go home with such
small returns for your summer's work; there are
still three or four weeks before winter sets in,
why don't you try something else?"
P then proposed a trip to the North Shore
for seal hunting and trapping in partnership,
to which Ouellet agreed. Preparations were
made. They were to use Ouellet's boat for the
trip. Some fish and other small things not re-
quired were to be left in P 's store, pending
their return. ''We had better sharpen your large
butcher knife," said P. "in case we require it
to skin our seals." This knife, sharpened by
Ouellet himself, was the one used to murder him.
The next day, the weather being fine, P and
Ouellet left for the North Shore. This was the
last time Ouellet was seen alive. P was a
widower, and his daughter, aged 17, kept house
for him, the only other member of the family be-
ing a boy of 12 years. The two young people put
the two men on board the barge, and took the
small boat back to shore. It was then about four
o'clock in the afternoon. A light breeze of west-
164 A TRAGEDY ON THE NORTH SHORE
erly wind was blowing and the barge was soon
out of sight.
What happened after this can only be conjee-
tureu, as P made no confession, but circum-
stances seemed to indicate that they steered the
boat turn about, and that during a rest, Ouellet
was struck on the head with the tiller of the boat,
which apparently only stunned him. A scuffle
ensued, and Ouellet was stabbed to death with the
butcher's knife. Evidence of the struggle was
shown by Ouellet' s hand being cut, probably
trying to grasp the knife, and P 's clothing
being torn, and scratches received by him. A
barge, unknown to P , had sailed from Cape
Chatte that same evening, bound for the North
Shore also. Uuring the night the .owner had
heard strange noises ana loud cries and groans
which he could not account for. Next morning
P ^was near lies de Mai, where he went
ashore, and selected a small out-of-the-way cove,
in which he buried Ouellet's body, after having
stripped it of all its clothing, except a woolen un-
dershirt. He dragged the body about fifty yards
in the woods, made a shallow grave, plaoed his
burden in it, and covered it up carefully with
leaves and decayed wood. The spot was about as
lonely a one as could be selected on the whole
coast. It was not in the line of travel, and was
fifteen miles distant from the nearest habitation,
and, in the ordinary nature of things, years
A TRAGEDY ON THE NORTH SHORE ld6
^ould probably elapse before any oiie came hear
the place. Such were no doubt P 's thoughts
after this finishing touch to his brutal murder.
But it was ordained otherwise as the sequel will
show.
Having got rid of the body, the murderer sailed
for Pentecost, fifteen miles westward, there to
await a favorable day lo return home. To the
people who saw him there, he related that he had
crossed a trapper over and had left him at Pointe
au Jambon for the winter. A similar story was
given out on returning to Ste. Anne des Monts.
His own clothes and those taken from Ouellet
were all smeared with blood. These he soaked
in a tub and washed them himself, giving as a rea-
son for these bloody garments that they had killed
a large seal, which had been cut up for fox baits
for Ouellet, who had decided to winter on the
North Shore for trapping.
Just about this period the Molson Iron Works
were in operation at Moisie River. As there were
no regular mails there in winter, they employed a
special carrier, a man named Luc Gagnon. In
the month of May following Ouellet' s murder,
Gagnon, with a companion, was returning home
in a canoe. The day had been windy, and in
order to take advantage of a calm, they had decid-
ed to travel at night. About eleven p.m. Gagnon
suggested to his mate to go ashore somewhere and
have a cup of tea and something to eat. This
laO A TRAGEDY ON THE NORTH SHORE
would give them a short rest and warm them up
as the night was cold. Nearing the shore they
landed in the small cove where P had buried
his victim. While his companion was collecting
wood and getting things ready for their meal,
Gagnon had gone into the wood for birch bark to
light the fire. While fumbling around in the
dark he happened to tread on Ouellet's body,
which omitted a whistling sound, owing to the
escape of air and gas from the lung cavity. He
gave a start, but did not stop to examine the
cause, putting it down to having trodden on a
woodchuck or ground hog, which fact he related
to his companion. After the meal the latter pro-
posed to go and try to kill the animal, whose
flesh is hignly esteemd by the trappers. Gagnon
did not care much about returning, but as his
friend insisted so much, he finally went with him,
and to their horror they discovered the body of
the murdered man. They saw the knife thrusts
in the body and through the shirt, which was the
only garment on it. The corpse was re-buried in
the same position, and on arriving at Pentecost
Gagnon told his story. Then it was repeated
elsewhere, and finally reached the ears of the
Coroner of Murray Bay, who went down and
held an inquest on the body. A description was
published, but for some time no one identified the
remains. Gradually, however, the meshes of the
net that were to close in upon P , were
A TRAGEDY ON THE NORTH SHORE 167
woven. Ouellet's relations were getting anxi-
ous at his non-appearance and made inqui-
ries. The description of the body found on
the North Shore tallied with his. P was the
man who had last seen him alive. Suspicion rest-
ed upon him, and he was arrested and convicted
on entirely circumstantial evidence, eliciting the
facts above stated, and was hanged at Murray
Bay. After his death rumors were current that
probably this was not his first victim. A Syrian
peddlar had disappeared in that region in a
mysterious manner. Some foundation for this
rumor is found in the fact that some years later
the skeletons of two persons were found on his
farm, which was near the sea shore. Were they
really victims of P or the bodies of some
shipwrecked sailors buried there? No one can
tell!
^n flngltng
31 DO NOT pretend either to pose as an expert
iSI on angling or yet to give any lessons on sal-
mon fishing in this book; and this for several rea-
sons: First of all there are lots of excellent
books on the subject alrerdy. In the second place
angling for salmon caunot be learned from
books, though, of course, written instructions
may help considerably as one gains experience.
Experience is really the only teacher. I came to
this conclusion many years ago, when I saw a
celebrated author on angling, fish like the
veriest duffer. My ten-year-old boy could have
given him practical lessons. - In his book, which
is most admirably written, he had the theory
down fine; but he lacked the practice and experi-
ence.
With this introduction I will mention a few
things that I have learned by experience, and pos-
sibly they may be useful to some beginners.
JFttBt aa ta ^&8- — In fishing from a boat where
there is clear water, with no rapids of any extent,
salmon can be killed with any kind of rod, from
a nine foot bamboo up to one of eighteen feet. It
is only a question of time with the lighter rod.
Where there are rapids and obstructions, a heavy
^ v;j-^-r u I i I ui I ^^^^'^^^Kmwm
ON ANGLING 169
rod is a necessity; for without it many fish will
be lost.
A good reel is of more importance than a good,
rod. It should run easily, while at the same time
be stiff enough to prevent back-lashing. The
axle plates should be concave, otherwise a wet
line will cause them to bend and press on the
sides, jamming the reel, and making it useless. It
should be big enough to hold comfortably one
hundred yards of line and have no projections or
fancy notions to catch your line other than the
handle. A light line is pleasant to fish with, but
to cast against a strong wind requires a heavy
one. Good single gut is preferable to treble gut
and quite strong enough to kill the largest sal-
mon in Canada. A good plan is to have eight or
nine feet of tapering treble gut attached to the
silk line, and at the end of this two yards of a
single cast. This will answer for either rough
or smooth waters.
^0t0 aa t0 flits. — Early in the season, or in
heavy waters, large flies are preferable, tied on
what is usually called a No. 1 hook. For clear or
low water, or late in the season, smaller sizes
may be used, but I never got much satisfaction
fishing with smaller hooks than No. 3. It is often
found interesting to have a large assortment
of flies, but practically half a dozen different
patterns suffice, such as Jock Scott, Silver Doc-
tor or Silver Grey— I prefer the last— Durham
170 ON ANQLINO;
Banger^ Fairy, Donkey, and for late evening
fishing, a whitish or yellowish fly. There used
to be made some years ago a fly called the '"spar-
row," which was very good for this purpose.
When salmon are willing to rise, they will do so at
anything that resembles a fly. I have caught them
on almost bare hooks, and on flies that I roughly
tied myself and that resembled no particular pat-
tern. When a stretch of water has been fished
over day after day with standard flies without
success, a nondescript fly may hook or rise a fish.
So much for the caprice of salmon I When not
disposed to rise, as generally happens towards
the end of the season, in July and August, neither
the prettiest nor the gaudiest flies will tempt
them. The temperature of the water affects
them very much. Anything under 60^ Fahren-
heit, is favorable, and the chances of success
diminish in proportion as that is exceeded.
In regard to the relative merits of the double
hooked or single hooked fly, my experience is that
more fish will be hooked with the double one, but
given a fixed quantity of fish hooked the propor-
tion lost will be less with the single hooked fly,
as this last, when it does fasten in a fish, has gen-
erally a good hold. Scratches and light hooking
are faults common with the double hook.
dofittng. — ^Anyone capable of casting thirty
to forty feet of line in a decent manner, has a
good chance to hook a salmon. It is not given to
ON ANGLING 171
everyone to be an Enright, and though one ad-
mires such displays of strength and skill in cast-
ing, it is really not necessary to success in an-
gling. As a matter of fact, very few salmon are
hooked on these very long casts. I never was
proficient myself in that respect, a little over
eighty feet being my limit, but I may say that
three-quarters of all the salmon I ever caught
were on short casts, under forty feet. With
short casts every movement imparted to the rod
reaches the fly, and its movements are those of
a living insect, or as near to them as possible. With
long ones the finer motions of the rod seldom or
ever reach the fly, owing to slack line and the
friction of the water upon it, and one watching
such a fly will see it sweep around like a dead
object. The proper way to cast for salmon is
down stream, at an angle of say 45^, but I have
found that after so fishing a good many additional
fish might be hooked, or would rise to the fly
when fishing right across the current, and even
up stream, so long as the movements of the fly
could be controU^'d. Such casts must necessarily
be short ones. Most fish take the fly under water,
but many will take it on the surface like trout,
and it is a good plan to try both methods. Fish
that lie in shallow waters will frequently snap
viciously at a fly that is just dangled over their
nose, and occasionally allowed to touch the water.
In this way I have often seen fish caught when
the fly was four or five inches above the water.
172 ON ANGLING
$m1s. — Early in the season, with very high
waters, salmon will not be found in the same
pools in which one may have been accustomed to
see them under ordinary conditions. In such
cases, one should fish in sheltered places, near
shore, in eddies, or behind a large stone or boul-
der. Salmon are often found in most unexpected
places, and occasionally in heavy rapids or at
th^ foot of a fall, if there happens to be a little
spot of dark water, where the fly can be seen for
an instant. As a rule, however, steady rippling
currents or the foot of a pool — ^just near where it
breaks off into a rapid — are the favorite locali-
ties. On an unknown river I would say fish
everywhere, except in heavy broken water. In
fishing and shooting I have found that as a rule,
it is always better to follow the direction or advice
of the local men, however ridiculous this may
appear at first sight. Afterwards, if you do not
succeed, use your own judgment.
The most favorable time of day to fish for sal-
mon is between 7.00 and 10.00 a.m., and from
3.00 p.m. till dark. Over and over again I tried
very early morning fishing, sleeping near the
* 'pools," and beginning at the first streak of
dawn. I am sorry to say I never had enough
luck to warrant my recommending this practice.
In the evening, however, fish will take till it is so
dark that you cannot see them rising.
Although not in accordance with the general
ON ANGLING 173
rules of angling, I have always slightly struck a
rising salmon, and believe that in the long run I
have gained by so doing. It seems as though you
fastened the hook more securely.
%mhlin9 a S^olinon. — If you hook a fish near
the brink of a fall or rapid, try to move him
up stream immediately. The chances are that
for the first minute or two, by putting a fair
strain on, you can lead him where you want to,
as usually he does not seem to realize the cause of
the trouble very quickly, but when he does wake
up to it, watch your line closely, as this will pro-
bably be the supreme eflEort, — a wild rush, and
perhaps two or three leaps in succession. Half
the battle is won if you handle him safely througJb
these. He may take many more runs or jumps, but
as a rule none will approach these first mad'ones.
If possible, atroid letting a very long line out. It
is dangerous on account of the friction in the
water and fouling in obstructions, and often a
fish will break away with hardly any strain on the
rod. Too short a line is also risky and one should
never reel up more than sufficient to leave about
twenty feet of line from the tip of the rod. Wh^i
the fisn gets perfectly played out, reel up as short
as may be needed. Do not hurry to try and bring
him in to the gaffman before he is properly played
out. Many a fine fish has been lost by so doing.
Take your time and remember that from the
moment a fish begins to show signs of weakening.
174 ON ANGLING
another minute or two will lay him out helpless.
When fishing alone I have often played a fish out
so completely that I would just go and raise him
out with my hand, using neither gaff nor net.
So far as I am aware> in our Canadian rivers,
— St. Lawrence waters, — salmon will not take
anything else but the fly. I have tried baits of
various kinds, shrimps, frogs, minnows, etc.,
without any success at all. The late Mr. Alex-
ander Dennistoun, of Montreal, also tried ex-
periments in that line on the Natashquan, Min-
gan, St. John's and Moisie rivers and had no
success either. I suppose they are not yet edu-
cated to that point. I have, however, in the salt
water, or near the estuary of a river, taken sal-
mon by trolling, — ^using an artificial bait resemb-
ling a sand eel or a caplin, and if the fresh and
natural bait can be had it is still better. Fine
large trout are frequently caught while so trol-
ling. No lead is used, and the ordinary salmon
tackle suits. About sixty feet of line behind the
canoe is sufficient and this last should be rowed
quietly, at a rate of about two miles an hour.
Since I commenced this sport here, my old
friend, Mr. Bobt. McLimont, has killed many
fine fish in the same way. Like fly-fishing, it
requires patience and perseverance, the two qual-
ities that the successful angler must necessarily
possess.
Cfte i^ahnon anli iti jMitgrattottf
3| HAVE been interested in salmon in so many
^ different respects since my boyhood, that I
cannot help dwelling at some length upon the
subject. All anglers for this fine fish, whether
for sport or profit, will understand my feelings
and pardon my garrulity.
It is not my intention, nor is it within the scope
of this book, to give the natural history of the
salmon. I simply desire to place before the reader
my observations, experiences and views regarding
it.
Let us begin with the spring migration. Each
year about the middle of May an immense body of
salmon moves in towards the North Shore of the
River and Gulf of St. Lawrence, and a corres-
ponding one to the South Shore. The first men-
tioned divides into two portions in the vicinity
of Anticosti, one going to the eastward, that is to
say following the coast line from Mingan to-
wards the Straits of Belle Isle, the other
moving in a westerly direction up the St. Law-
rence. When I say that the salmon follow the
coast line east or west from Mingan, I do not
mean that a fish striking the shore near that place
will follow it up to the Saguenay or further, but
simply that this is the tendency. The movement
176 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
is a general one, whether it be near Mingan or
Tadousac, just wherever the fish may oome in.
I have had considerable experience in the netting
of salmon and have owned and fished several
stands myself, eastwards from the neighbourhood
of the Saguenay, within a period of some thirty
years During this time I must have caught, per-
sonally, fully twenty thousand salmon, all of
which, with the exception of possibly five or six
fish, were gilled in our nets going west; and my
experience in that respect is that of hundreds of
other fishermen.
The object of this migration is to enter the riv-
ers for the purpose of spawning. This they gen-
erally do as soon as the ice and snow have disap-
peared from the water, which is usually around
the 10th of June in most of our rivers. With a
few exceptions the run of salmon ceases about the
end of July. Previous to entering the pure fresh
water, they remain for some time in the estuar-
ies, moving in and out with the tides, becoming
gradually acclimatized. Otherwise they would
probably be killed by the sudden change of condi-
tions. I have often noticed the occurrence of such
fatalities among other fish, such as cod, herring,
caplin and in a few isolated cases with halibut
and lobsters, when they are wafted into a river
with a flood tide, in sea water, and then over-
whelmed with the fresh water on the ebb, owing
to the more rapid run out of the surface water.
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 177
Salmon, during their sojourn in the sea, travel
only during day time. This statement is based
upon tne fact that out of the hundreds of nets set
along the sea shore, no salmon are ever taken in
them at night, unless perhaps an odd fish which
happens to be disturbed near a net. Years ago
when spearing was allowed in unlicensed waters,
I have often observed that we would find the
salmon lying perfectly still on or near the bottom
and generally in the vicinity of rocks or patches
of sea weed; where they would be very hard to
distinguish from the surroundings. By the use
of artificial light, some few fish can be netted at
night. We had occasion to cut down some trees
one year on a point near one of our nets. Not
wishing to run any risks of starting a fire in the
woods, for it was then in June, we piled the brush
on the rocks, and lighted the fire at night, when
there was little wind. It made quite a blaze.
Early the next morning on visiting our net, we
found, very much to our surprise, six or seven
salmon in it. On another occasion the lighthouse
keeper of Pointe des Monts, Mr. V. Fafard, told
me he had observed the same thing occur in a net
which he had set in the immediate vicinity of the
lighthouse. This was especially the case on very
dark nights.
Although capable, when necessary, of a very
high rate of speed in swimming, salmon are, as a
rule, very slow in their rate of travel; the move-
178 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
ments of oonsiderable quantities together being
only four or five miles per day. I have often
noted from day to day the progress of large bodies
of salmon by the catches in the nets at different
stations.
After entering the rivers these conditions are
changed, and salmon travel mostly at night. At
the time when net fishing was allowed in rivers,
seventy-five per cent of the fish were taken during
the night. They move up stream very slowly,
much depending on the nature of the river, the
height of the water and the time at which they
first enter. Late run salmon generally ascend
faster, the conditions being more favorable. They
will frequently remain in the same pools for
days. Fish with peculiar marks on them, such as
scars, can be thus observed and the rate of pro-
gress noted. Where there are no natural or arti-
ficial obstructions on a river, salmon will ascend
it to its source and the same is true of its tribu-
taries. Very frequently these last mentioned
will contain the principal spawning grounds^ es-
pecially those of large streams. The sites chosen
are clear gravelly bottoms with a fairly swift cur-
rent. Salmon will not spawn in deep sluggish
pools, or where the bottom is muddy or polluted
in any way with either sawdust or any other ma-
terials. I shall refer to this later on.
When salmon first ent^r a river in the spring,
they are in the very pink of condition and the
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 179
scales on the sides and under parts are as bright
as polished silver. A few days in fresh water
soon effects a great cHange. The fish begin to lose
flesh and color, first becoming reddish on the sides
and under parts. As time goes on this discolora-
tion continues, and towards the end of October
they are of a dark, slaty color, nearly all over. The
body of the fish becomes thin and rounded, giving
it an eel-like appearance; the fins exhibit abnor-
mal development and stand out prominently from
the body. The head and the jaws of the fish un-
dergo the same transformation and the males
often develop a snout like a pig with an immense
hook on the under jaw. So great is the change in
the shape and general appearance of the fish that
a person not familiar with the facts would take
it at this time to be of an entirely different species
from the freshly run salmon. Specimens were
once brought up, taken in Lake Waschecootai,
Labrador, and described, by a well informed Gov-
ernment official, as a new species.
Some years ago I happened to be in Quebec
about the middle of November. I had taken up
with me some specimens of birds for the Laval
Museimi. I went to see the curator, and after
our business was concluded, he said, ''I am very
glad to see you, I have a new species of fish to
show you, it was found dead some few days ago
at St. Paul's Bay. I have shown it to several of
the professors here and even to Dr. Ahern and
180 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
they do not know what it is/' This meant a good
deal, because in the opinion of the good curator,
what Dr. Ahern, — ^who is one of the leading med-
ical men in Canada,— did not know, was not
worth knowing. I was getting quite interested.
On reaching his work room, I was shown a fresh-
ly stuffed specimen of a fresh salmon, that had
probably weighed about fifteen pounds when in
good condition, but had actually weighed only
eight pounds when brought in. I told him what
it was, but had to repeat my story several times,
giving him specific explanations of how the
change had been brought about before he would
believe me.
A considerable proportion of the salmon that
spawn early enough, — ^that is to say before the
rivers freeze over, — ^return to the sea the same
fall. But a very large number winter in the
rivers and the lakes drained by them. These are
the fish that come down the rivers in the spring
as soon as the ice breaks up and until the
spring freshets are over. They are known as
kelts by anglers and others. French-Canadian
fishermen call them lingards, probably a corrup-
tion of long gars, long lanky fellows — ^which
would certainly be very appropriate in this case.
And to these kelts or lingards I will devote a spe-
cial chapter. The salmon that descend the riv-
ers in tlie fall are probably those that arrive in
the early spring fat and strong, ready to begin
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 181
their long up hill fight again. Some persons con-
tend that because salmon ascend rivers three and
four months before the spawning season begins,
they do not do so solely for the purpose of
breeding. For what else can it be? It is cer-
tainly not to escape from their enemies, for these
are about as numerous in the rivers as in the sea.
Although it is absolutely necessary that their
ova should be deposited at the head waters of a
river to hatch out, an hereditary instinct pro-
bably teaches them that it is safer there. Such
being the case, how could one expect a gravid
fish, weakened by the full development of its ova,
to be able to surmount all the obstacles found in
an ordinary salmon river ? It would be no more
fit to do this than an oyster. Hence the neces-
sity of ascending the stream early and reaching
its spawning bed before this process is too far
advanced. There, this development takes place
in a state of comparative repose.
Smalts fftib i&niu. —The migration of smolts,
that is to say, of parr going out to sea, is,
even in the same river, very irregular; not so much
in the dates of the migration as in the numbers
of the fish. This variation does not appear to
depend upon the abundance or scarcity of the
parent fish in the previous two or three years.
I presume that there must be in some years
an excessive loss of ova, either by severe winter
floods, disease or parasites, &c. Whatever may
182 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
be the cause there are some years when smolts
can be seen by thousands in the estuaries,
and other years when there seem to be hardly
any. I remember two years of excessive abun-
dance — 1872 and 1873. Boys fishing for trout in
the estuary of the Godbout were killing so
many, — sometimes four or five dozen each, in
one tide, that I had to put a stop to their fishing.
A question often raised is, where do the smolts go
to after leaving a river? Probably during the
winter months they follow the example of their
elders and move out into the deep waters of the
river and gulf of St. Lawrence, — ^to return the
following year as grilse. During the summer and
fall months they do not wander very far from
shore and to some extent seem to follow and mix
up with the herring. This is a very unfortunate
relation, because hundreds, and some years thou-
sands are gilled in the herring nets. Fishermen
along this coast call them Winnoniche. They are
mostly used up in the fresh state, either for food
or bait, but sometimes are salted. I once saw
three barrels of them exposed for sale on the Que-
bec market under the name of Winnanish. I told
Mr. Grenier, who was then fish inspector, what
they really were, and advised him to warn those
who bought them that they were liable to be fined
Many herring fishermen of the present day know
that they are smolts, but they cannot avoid their
capture, as their nets have to be set. In October
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 183
they range in weight from half a pound to one
and a half pounds.
Grilse begin to enter our rivers here about the
end of June and continue running up till about
the middle of September. I was much astonished
to read that in Norway large numbers df grilse
are netted with the salmon. It is hardly credible
that the fishermen would be so shortsighted as to
use, and the Government to allow, a size of mesh
small enough for that. In Canada the regulation
mesh is five inches wide, sufficient to allow grilse
to run through, but small enough to hold an eight
pound fish. Intelligent fishermen have found out
by experience that five inches is too small, and
nearly all now use nets of from six to seven and a
half inches mesh. This size net will not capture
any fish under nine to ten pounds. This loss of
smaller sized fish is amply compensated for by the
greater quantities of larger ones secured. In the
small mesh net most of the big ones are lost, by
not being properly gilled and falling out of the
net, and very likely also many large fish will not
attempt to run through. One thing certain is
that if it was not in their interest fishermen
would not use the large mesh.
The average weight of salmon taken in nets is
about fifteen pounds. Additional protection
should be given to grilse by prohibiting the use
of trout nets entirely, or at least after the 1st of
July, instead of the 31st, as the present law per-
184 THE SALMON AND ITSjMIGRATIONS
mits. As it is desirable, for reasons which I will
explain, that trout should be kept down, the free
use of seines should be allowed for their capture.
In this manner, if any grilse were captured, they
could be liberated, which it would be useless and
wasteful to do when a grilse is hanging dead in a
trouc net.
There are many other means of affording more
protection to salmon, such as encouraging the
capture of porpoises, both black and white. These
are the worst enemies of the large fish. Seals are
also destructive, especially in the fall of the year,
when the fish are weak, but these, as well as otter
and mink and bears, are themselves of sufficient
value to require no further incentive to kill them.
Some birds, however, which are of no economic
value, should have a small bounty placed upon
them, even if it was only just sufficient to cover
the cost of ammunition. In this list I would
place kingfishers, sheldrakes, loons and ospreys.
Whttt btf Salmon WiinttT ? — Where do the
large quantities of salmon that approach the
shores of the St. Lawrence in the spring come
from? Where have they passed the winter ? To
some extent this is still a problem. We read of
an occasional one being taken with hook and line
by the Newfoundland cod fishing fleet. Herring
netters, in St. George's Bay, sometimes capture
a straggler in their nets in winter. Captain
Adams, of Gloucester, a celebrated mackerel
PicNic at a Salmon Net Stadon
A Lobiter Fishiog Party, St AugiMtiB Core
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 185
fisherman, has told me that he now and then cap-
tures a salmon in his purse seines when fishing
for mackerel off the Atlantic coast in winter,
and a few captures have been reported by other
mackerel seiners. These fetw data have given
rise to the belief that most of our salmon go out
to the Atlantic Ocean and winter there, returning
in the spring. This may probably be true of sal-
mon belonging to the New Brunswick shores, but
I do not believe that our North Shore salmon
stray away so very far, though possibly a few
may do so. I am of the opinion that the bulk of
them remain in the deep waters of the St. Law-
rence. In support of this I have a record of one
salmon being taken on a halibut trawl off Caribou
Islands in the month of April. I have also
found remains of salmon in the stomach of seals,
shot off Pointe des Monts in the months of Jan-
uary and February. Halibut, herrings, flounders,
dog fish and Greenland sharks, lobsters, etc.,
move out into the deep waters of the St. Law-
rence on the approach of winter and return to-
wards land in the spring as soon as the ice per-
mits. Why should not salmon do the same thing ?
faah 0f tlft ^alnt0n. — This was for a very
long time a much discussed question, some per-
sons asserting that they feed only on small ani-
malculae contained in water, and that for that
reason nothing was ever found in their stomachs.
I was still quite a boy when I heard of this
186 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
theory. It was during my first year's guardian-
ship of the Godbout River. Two English officers.
Major Howard and Colonel Charteris^ had been
invited by Dr. W. Agar Adamson to join the
angling party of the Godbout that season. I
think it was in the year 1860. Presumably this
'*food question'' had been brought up, because on
that day orders were given not to cut up or split
the salmon before all the party were present.
While this was being done, later on, I stood by,
like the others, watching the opening of each
fish and its stomach. I imagined that something
had been lost and with a boy's curiosity, asked
what they were looking for. Colonel Charteris,
in answer to my question, kindly explained that
nothing was ever found in the way of food in a
salmon's stomach, and that it was to prove this
that the fish were being examined, ''and as you
may see," he added, ^'this is correct, not a speck
of food has been found in any of these." There
were six or seven salmon. *'Why !" I answered;
''This may be all right as far as these fish are
concerned, but I can show you hundreds with
their stomachs full to bursting with caplin."
"You can?" he said. "Certainly, sir." "WeU,
now, my good boy, look here, — I don't want a
hundred, but try and bring me one and I shall be
satisfied." I promised, and the next day got a
fish from the nets and brought it up to him. It
was opened in presence of the whole party. Dr.
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 187
Adamson, Captain Holyoake, Major Howard and
the Colonel. The stomach was stuffed with cap-
lin, about fifteen or so, in various stages of diges*
tion. They were all carefully collected and plac-
ed with the intestines in one of Crosse & Black-
well's pickle bottles, filled up with good brandy,
and presumably taken back to England and pos-
sibly placed in some collection, where for all I
know, they may be to this day. I never heard
anjrthing more of the incident. Since that day
I have opened many thousands of salmon taken
in the sea and in rivers and lakes. In those taken
in salt water I have found herrings, small mack-
erel, young sculpins, two kinds of shrimps— one
very small, and on one occasion, two young floun-
ders, about three inches long, in the same fish. A
species of bluish colored sea worm is also occasion-
ally found. All of the above are rare exceptions,
but the regular every-day food seems to be caplin
and sand eels. In fresh water, I must say, tha/t
practically they do not feed, because out of the
many thousands that I have examined, killed with
the fly, or by netting and spearing and in other
ways, only four contained visible food. This
was, in two specimens taken in July by angling,
in each one stone-fly, a greyish insect with yel-
low markings on the underparts and long wings,
total length about one and a half inch. In one
speared in November I found a portion of a
wood mouse with some of the hair and skin; one
188 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
hind leg bone and a small portion of the verte-
brae was present ; all the other bones missing. In
a kelt, caught in a trout net, about the beginning
of May, was a piece of fat, with a shred of skin.
This appeared to come from some species of duck,
but as there were no feathers left on it I could
not determine what kind it had been. Four sal-
mon, out of fifteen or twenty thousand, had
enough food found in them to keep a small trout
alive one day. I think that we may well conclude
that they do not feed in fresh water. But the
question often posed by anglers naturally pre-
sent itself :*' Why, if they do not feed, do they
rise to the fly? A fly going through the water
looks very much like a live insect; why do they
chase it and snap at it sometimes so viciously, if
not for food?'* This is certainly a good argu-
ment, but the fact remains that no flies are found
in them. There are myriads of flies and grubs of
all descriptions in a river, and surely, if the sal-
mon were taking them as food, the remains would
be found in the stomach. If we open a trout or
small parr, we will generally find it stuffed
with insects of various kinds. I have often sat
and watched these small parrs for hours at a time
in a sheltered corner or eddy of a river, throwing
into the water all sorts of things, bits of bread,
meat, paper, and all kinds of crawling or flying
insects that I could get hold of. The fish would
rise at everything that dropped, but would not
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 189
always take it. At other times small bits would
be taken and immediately ejected. Black flies,
ants, maggots and deer flies would invariably be
retained. Of the larger insects they would some-
times make three or four attempts before they
would succeed in swallowing them. When parr
are abundant in a certain portion of a river, one
may constantly see them leaping and feeding.
Therefore, may not this habit of the salmon ris-
ing to a fly be simply a survival of a youthful
habit, leading them to chase any insect that ap-
pears and then ejecting it, since it is not requir-
ed as food.
For the joy of all salmon anglers I hope that
this particular instinct will never be lost!
(&mmm ai tht j^ainuxn.— Now and again I
have noticed, especially after a poor fishing
year, that an outcry has been raised against the
salmon netters : — rivers were threatened with de-
pletion and so on. Now I firmly believe that the
netter is one of the smallest enemies of the salmon.
If we take such an insignificant bird as the
kingfisher and its brood, and make a very
moderate estimate of the numbers of small fry
they kill, we find that in numbers it about equals
one-half of the total catch of the netters in the
whole county of Saguenay. Aside from this, of
the feathered tribe, there are thousands of shel-
drakes, loons, ospreys and eagles taking their
share, and also porpoises, seals, bears, otters and
190 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
minks. I onoe watched and shot a mink, the
winner in a fight with a ten pound sahnon. Then
last, but not least, the trout and pike, &c., of
which more anon. Much could be done for the
better protection of the fish from many of the
above enemies.
^n Sfalmon ^tcxtanns ? — ^Old Hudson Bay
employees and fishermen, whom I have met, were,
whenever salmon was discussed, found of telling
of the inmiense quantities that were netted in the
good old days, citing in support of this the hun-
dreds of tierces that were salted or cured at this
or that river at the time, and of the comparatively
small numbers seen in the same rivers to-day.
Previous to the cession of the Eling's Post and
the passing of the Fishery Act in 1858 and 1859,
the Hudson Bay Company had the monopoly of
all the fisheries — or nearly all — on the North
Shore of the St. Lawrence, but only the best or
most convenient were netted and those only inside
the rivers or estuaries. In nearly all of them
barrier nets were set, i.e,, nets extending from
one bank to the other; in some cases, two or three
in the same river. Later on, however, when it
was decreed illegal to fish in the rivers, stations
were selected along the sea shore, generaUy at the
extremity of a point. In many places there are
a dozen or more of these nets within a few miles of
a river, thus dividing the former yield of that
stream into a dozen or more portions, as the case
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 191
may be. As an example and comparison we will
take the Trinity River. The average catch dur-
ing the year it was netted by the Hudson Bay Co.
was seventy-five tierces, equal to 33,750 pounds
of fresh salmon. Nine nets in that vicinity have
during the past ten years, given an average yield
of over 50,000 pounds per anum. Comparison
with other rivers are nearly all similar, thus
showing over thirty per cent, increase in re-
turns.
Of course this only applies to rivers of the
North Shore, in unsettled districts. Rivers west
of Quebec, and for some distance east are nearly
all denuded of salmon, and in those in which a
few still survive, it seems to be only a question of
time before they will share the same fate. There
the fish have not been exterminated by netting,
but driven from the streams by pollution of the
waters. No amount of restocking can ever res-
tore these rivers, unless one could rear a special
breed of salmon.
Going further, still, and taking the returns
for the whole of the Province of Quebec for, say
ten years, we find that to-day they show an in-
crease of over thirty per cent. Here are the
figures in numbers : For the years 1896, *97, '98,
average total catch of salmon, 685,000 pounds;
for 1906, '07, '08, over one million pounds. Judg-
ing from these figures there seems to be no cause
192 THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
for alann or for the statement that our salmon
are decreasing.
%dt8 and ^lome^mv |Ufar.— When a salmon
enters a river in Jnne he is rolling in fat; the
intestines are one solid mass of it. Formerly,
when salmon were salted, all the intestines were
collected, placed in a barrel and allowed to melt
with the heat of the sun, giving about one im-
perial quart of clear oil per two hundred pounds
of cured fish. After his long and arduous jour-
ney up stream, his enforced or willing fast, and
the exhaustion due to spawning, all this fat has
been absorbed and the fish left in an emaciated
condition. He is then called a spent fish or kelt.
He is hardly recognizable. His skin is dark,
thick and slimy, to such a degree that his former
bright silvery scales are invisible. How has this
been brought about ? By long immersion in fresh
water, is the answer. Very well; then how is it
that this same fish, continuing to remain in the
same water, emerges in April, with bright scales
showing again ? He is no fatter, still a kelt, but he
is bright and shining. How was this brought
about? Here is where I have something new!
He has shed his coatl He has moulted, thrown
off his outer slimy covering with the old scales,
and grown new ones, just in the same way as an
animal sheds his coat, birds their feathers, and
snakes their skins also of scales. I imagine I
can see my dear reader's incredulous smile when
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 183
he reads this. I have seen some akeady. I saw
it on the face of Mr. Charles Hallock, the former
Editor of Forest and Stream, when I first pro-
poTmded this theory to him many years ago. He
was a guest that year on "The Godbout * and I
had prepared and put up in alcohol for him a
piece of salmon skin showing the new scales grow-
ing. I had also explained to him my views of
how this change was produced. He smiled and
promised to write an article in Forest and Stream,
but he must have forgotten it, because it never
appeared. Since then I have broached the sub-
ject a couple of times to others, but their looks
and silence were too significant for me to continue
the subject. It is none the less a fact, as I have
found by continued investigation.
Alex. Russell in his work on *'The Salmon,**
page 85, has a vague perception of something an-
omalous, in the presence of these clean kelts in
Scotch rivers in the early spring. He says : —
**It would be dishonest to omit to mention,
'' merely because we cannot pretend to explain,
** another mystery as to the movements of the
'* salmon, which no experiments have done any-
** thing to clear up. What are those clean sal-
'' mon that run up the rivers in late winter or
** early spring They cannot be wanting to
'' spawn, for there is no spawning for at least
** six months to come. They cannot have spawn-
'* ed early in the preceding or rather present
IIH THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS
^' spawning season, — ^gone down, reooyered, and
** returned* — for numerous experiments show
'' that the shortest period of return is about
'' three months, and it is pnly about three months
"' since the earliest fish had begun to spawn in
" the river which these are now ascending. They
'' must have passed the autumn or earlier winter
"' in the sea. Then they iDust have passed the
"' winter without breeding, and there we have the
"' discouraging fact or hypothesis that the salmon
'* is a fish which does not breed every year, — ^a
** hypothesis which will have the less chance of
'' acceptance just at present, when it appears,
'' or is supposed to have been discovered, that the
'' herring — a fish resembling the salmon at least
'* in the important respect of being migratory —
** breeds twice in each year, or, at all events,
'' breeds at two widely different seasons of the
year.
Mr. Russell, in the above, made the mistake of
supposing that these fish were ascending the riv-
ers at that early date, while as a matter of fact
they were descending after having passed the
winter in the river and undergone the change I
have mentioned. It is also quite possible that
the change from the parr stage into that of the
smolt, which has been such a puzzle to natural-
ists, may be effected in the same way, this change
coming on only when the parr reaches the salt or
brackish water in the estuaries.
THE SALMON AND ITS MIGRATIONS 195
<Br0iDtIr 0f S^HlmaxL — ^Many a time I have been
asked, when looking at a salmon, after a success-
ful fight: *'What do you think is his age?'* If
the fish is large this is a rather difficult question,
but if of ordinary size one can form a good 4nd
close estimate by keeping in mind the rate of
growth after the smolt stage is past. Parrs pass
into the smolt stage in their third and fourth
year, going out of the rivers in August and Sep-
tember and sfometimes in October, and returning
the next season in Jidy, August and September
as grilse, weighing then three to five poimds. In
rivers where the fish are large they may be a
pound or so heavier. Therefore a grilse may be
either four or five years old. The rate of growth
after that will be from four to six pounds a year.
This accoimts for the great number of salmon
that weigh from nine to twelve pounds. Thirteen
to sixteen pound fish are not common, making a
gap again, as there is between grilse and ten
poimd fish, but we have large numbers again rim-
ning from sixteen to twenty pounds and probably
then seven to eight years old. Beyond this last
weight, the growth is more difficult to follow, the
fish then approaching the adult state in most of
our northern rivers. All the same I find that we
get more fish of twenty-four or twenty-five pounds
than of twenty-two or twenty-three. Variations
in the above will occur of course, in such rivers
as the Moisie or Bersimis, where the fish attain a
large size.
JLosit tn tfie WHtttntHii
^^0 the ordinary untrained person I believe
^y/ there are few things so terrifying as being
lost in the woods. Especially does this apply
to our section of the Province where there
is only one direction that can lead to safety. In
other parts of the country, supposing a person
does become lost, there is a chance that even if he
should take a wrong direction, he may still reach
some lumber camp, road, or railway track, or
settlement. On the North Shore, on the other
hand, there is but the one hope of safety, namely,
the coast line. All other directions lead into the
wilderness, where hundreds of miles may be tra-
versed without a single sign of a human being.
The best woodsman and trapper, and even the
Indians who are born and brought up in the
woods, will occasionally lose themselves for a time,
but owing to their training they never experience
any of the terrors that will assail the tenderfoot
under similar circumstances. The former wiU
realize that they are astray, and if it should be
due to a snowstorm or to darkness, they will stop
and camp or make a fire and have something to
eat, will act sensibly, in fact, and when the wea-
ther clears up, find the way all right.
I have had this experience myself. When it
LOST IN THE \VILDERNESS 197
first occurred to me I was only ten years old.
We were then living at Mingan. I was used to
running around in the bush, setting rabbit snares
and small traps and occasionally shooting a few
partridges.
One afternoon I went out as usual, and after
visiting my snares, was just on the point of return-
ing home, when I raised a large covey of spruce
partridges. They scattered around and took to the
trees. I had a single-barrel muzzle-loader and
began to shoot. Occasionally the report of the
gun or the fluttering of a falling bird would alarm
the others and they would fly away a short dis-
tance. So I wandered around, killing a bird now
and then, till I had sixteen, when I suddenly per-
ceived that night was setting in. In my excite-
ment of chasing the birds I had not thought of the
time. It was late in October and cloudy, but
there was no snow on the groxmd and consequent-
ly no chance of following my tracks back again.
I was then about three miles from the house, so
shouldering birds and gun I started off in what I
thought was the right direction. I walked and
ran when I had the chance to do so, till it seemed
to me that I must have been going for over an
hour and should have been out of the woods if I
had gone right. It was then quite dark and I
had to keep my arm in front of my eyes so as to
avoid injury from the branches as I groped along.
I pushed on for a few minutes more, though it
ig6 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
^eidined t6 me as a much longer time and then I
realized that I was lost. My father had often
advised me what to do if this should ever happen
to me, cautioning me particularly against running
aimlessly aroimd and becoming frightened, in-
stead of sitting down and making a fire if cold.
The night was cold, though I had not felt it
while walking. I had a box of matches in my
pocket and soon had a fire alight, and collected a
lot of dead wood by the light which it gave. Then
I began to think of what I had been doing. Sup-
posing that I had travelled in a wrong direction,
I inight be five or six miles from the house. I
knew they would be very anxious about me and
would look for a signal if I made one. Setting
fire to a large birch tree, if there are any about,
is a very good signal, but there happened to be
none nearby on this occasion, so I thought of us-
ing my gun. My powder horn was still about
half full, containing about eighteen or twenty
charges, so loading up I fired three shots in quick
succession. I had hardly done so, when an an-
swering shot came, very loud, then another, and
after that some shouting. I picked up my gun
and birds and started off in the direction of the
noise, th(3 shouting being kept up at intervals
tintil I met my father and two of the hands from
the Post with lanterns, coming up our wood road.
Thby had, indeed, been very anxious about me as
they thought I had met with some accident, but
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 199
where to find me was the problem, so they had
been keeping watch for some signal from me. They
had been blowing a small horn at intervals, which
I had not heard, and my father would not allow
any shots to be fired, as he was afraid I might be
misled by the echo as to their direction. The next
day I found out that I must have travelled in a
pretty straight course, for the place where I had
built my fire was only about a quarter of a mile
from the Post. Had I continued a few minutes
longer I would have come out to the wood road or
the house. I confess that I had felt somewhat
anxious for a while, but I was not frightened,
and if I had received no answer to my shots,
would have spent the night near my fire and pro-
bably have cooked one of my partridges to eat,
before trying to make my way out of the bush.
During the first few years in which I spent my
winters on the coast line, I used to buy furs on
commission for the Hudson Bay Co. Post at Ber-
simis. Mr. W. S. Church was then in charge.
Having some business to settle with him and hav-
ing then no regular mail service, I decided to go
and see him. I had never been over the ground
before, and though I felt quite sure I could find
my way all right, I thought it would be best to
secure a good guide; the more so as I had a pack
of valuable furs to take with Ine, which, with
necessary kit and provisions, made it rather too
heavy for one man. I engaged for this purpoee
200 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
an Indian named Ploute. He was a middle-i^;ed
man, a strong snowshoe walker and perfectly
familiar with the ooimtry we would have to go
through. The distance betwen Godbout and Ber-
simis by land is about seventy-five miles, about
fifty of which is through the woods, as it is im-
possible to follow the coast owing to the rocky and
mountainous nature of the country. We left
here — Godbout — about the end of January. Our
packs weighed about twenty-five poimds each.
Part of this was furs and provisions, and we also
had two pairs of socks and one extra pair of mo-
cassins, one quart tin kettle, and one axe each.
We carried neither tent nor blankets and no extra
clothing of any kind. As this was not a himting
trip we carried no guns, but in case of need I had
brought a small Smith & Wesson revolver of 32
cal. , which I carried in my coat pocket. On the first
day out we had fine clear weather and the snow-
shoeing was fairly good. There was no trail of
any kind, nothing to indicate our way except land
marks. Sometimes we would follow a small
brook — ^a gully or a lake if the direction hap-
pened to suit; if not, we would cross the ridges,
picking out the easiest paths that our course al-
lowed. This last was entirely by guess, as nei-
ther of us had a compass.
Following the usual habit of Indians and trap-
pers, in winter, we never stopped for lunch, mak-
ing only two meals per day, but these were gen-
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 201
eraUy hearty ones wiien grub was plentiful.
About an hour before sunset we would prepare
our camp for the night, selecting a spot sheltered
from the wind as much as possible, but avoiding
hollows, as the smoke was sometimes a nuisance.
With the help of our axes and snowshoes a space
of about seven or eight feet long and six wide,
would be cleared of snow. In a semi-circle behind
us ten or twelve small poles, six feet long or so,
were stuck in the snow, covered over with branch-
es and then packed with snow three feet high. In
front of this the fire was built, using as a sort of
radiator two or three of the largest logs we could
handle. A good pile of suitable wood was collected
and branches for our beds and our camp were
ready. It generally took about two hours' work to
prepare a fairly comfortable camp for the night.
In such a place as above described I have slept
when the thermometer was thirty degrees and more
below zero. In very cold winter weather the
fire had to be kept going continually, each taking
watch turn about while the other snatched a little
sleep. We accomplished about fifteen miles the
first day and camped on a small branch of the Mis-
tassini river. During the night the weather
grew cloudy, and about an hour before daylight
snow began to fall. We had breakfast, rigged up
our packs and started out as soon as we could see
our way.
About ten o'clock the wind and snow increased.
202 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
We could hardly see fifty yards ahead of us and
the walking was getting heavy. We came out on
a lake. The Indian stopped, looked around a
little, and then started to cross, taking a look be-
hind him now and then to see if he was going
straight. The lake was half a mile wide. On
reaching the other side I noticed that he was ap-
parently looking for some familiar object before
continuing. Evidently satisfied at last, we en-
tered the woods, where being sheltered we took a
couple of minutes' rest and spoke a few words,
my companion remarking that this storm was
going to delay us on account of the bad walk-
ing. We had figured on reaching the first set-
tlement, — ^Mr. Joseph Thibeau's — on the third
day, but for this we had to average about sixteen
miles per day. This may appear a very short dis-
tance, but when you have to carry a pack of even
only fifteen pounds and break a path in bad snow
and locate your route through the wood at the same
time, it makes quite a good day's work. At least
this is the result of my experience of it. When
the snow is good it does not matter much who
breaks the path, but when heavy and soft it is
awfully tiresome doing so, and one man alone
cannot travel very far without taking a short
breathing spell, and in the evening he will be
pretty well fagged out. On this day I took my
turn with the Indian, he giving me the direction.
For an hour br so we jogged along and came to an-
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 203
other lake. This appeared to surprise him. ''We
must have gone wrong/* he said. ''There should
be no lake so close in our way. We must follow the
shore of the lake/' he said, till he recognized it
and theij he would know where we were. This was
plainly the best thing to do, so on we went again.
Ten minutes later we came to our tracks, where we
had entered the wood over an hour before. We
knew too much to take them for somebody else's
tracks and follow them. Ploute looked at me and
smiled. "My head has gone around/' he said,
"and we must camp," which we did. It was
then about noon and as we had lots of time we
made a somewhat better shelter, making it higher
in the rear to protect ourselves from the falling
snow. In the afternoon the Indian went out
along the lake shore for some distance, but as
it was still snowing heavily, he failed to recog-
nize it, he said. During the night the weather
cleared up and in the morning when we went out
on the lake the Indian was quite surprised to see
that it was one with which he was quite fam-
iliar, but which it had been impossible for him to
place the day previous. We had gone out of our
course about five miles in the storm. This, cou-
pled with the heavy walking, delayed us so much
that we only reached Thibeau's on the fifth day.
We had taken provisions for only three days, but
as I had ishot two hares and four ruffed grouse on
the way, we had plenty to eat and could have got
204 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
more if it had been wanted. The rest of our trip
was an ordinary one, except for one amusing in-
cident. On the sixth day we reached Pointe aux
Outardes, where we slept at Mr. B/s, a very kind
and hospitable old farmer and hunter. In the
previous fall a German bark, of which I have for-
gotten the name, had gone aground on the Mani-
couagan shoals. She was loaded with gin. As
the vessel had received no damage, some five to six
himdred casks of gin had been thrown overboard
to enable her to float off, which she did. A small
portion of these casks were lost and some picked
up on the south shore, but most of them were
saved by the residents of Point aux Outardes,
numbering then some seven or eight families. In
front of each house was a row of casks, and our
host had about twenty for his share. Very
fortunately for me, Ploute was a sober Indian, a
rather rare thing, or I might have been delayed
there again. Several of the neighbours came in
for a smoke and a drink and there was gin galore;
the whole place was reeking with the smell of it,
which I probably noticed all the more from the
fact that I was not drinking any of it. Most of
the settlers' houses at that date were small, and
accommodation in the way of beds Just sufficient
for the needs of the family; but guests were al-
ways welcome to all the ground floor they coidd
occupy. One generally had to use his coat or
pack as a pillow, and select the softest board he
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS S05
could find near the stove to lie down on. Some of
the better-off people would lay out blankets or
straw mattresses, and occasionally a feather bed.
These woidd be laid out on the floor with the feet
towards the stove and very comfortable they were.
Often being out all day and coming in damp from
the snow or perspiration, one appreciated the heat
of a fire or stove to dry up by. A cold bed in a
far-away room of the house is anything but com-
fortable at such a time and might entail serious
results. A seal-oil iron lamp hanging to the
rafters used to be kept burning all night. This
shed a dim light which allowed of moving around
without treading on other sleepers. Near the
door used to be put up a small shelf or rough table
that was used as a washstand. Nearby on a long
peg or a hook would be a bucket of water and a tin
cup. Any one who felt so inclined could get up
at any hour of the night, boil his cup of tea and
start off without disturbing anyone, and no of-
fence was felt at this silent parting. It was just
what we had proposed to do that morning. About
three o'clock the Indian had got up and set the
kettle on the stove. Then he had gone to the
washstand for his morning's ablutions, when I
suddenly heard a yell. I jumped up and saw my
Indian prancing around and holding his dripping
head with both hands. I knew he was not drunk,
but on going up to him I got a sniff of the gin and
then I knew the cause. The poor fellow had wash-
206 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
ed in ginl The bucket on the p^ was full of it»
and so was our tea kettle, which I think we just
removed in time to prevent it from catching fire.
Everyone got up and had a good laugh at our ok-
pense and our parting was not quiet as we bad
anticipated.
|Rq ftdusht WtilUmn
In my early trapping days, I had an uncle living
at Three Rivers. He was well-to-do and his
three boys had the advantage of receiving a good
education. Two of them had availed themselves
of this opportunity, but William was lazy and fond
of a drink when he could get it and not over scru-
pulous as to how he got it either. He Had learned
to read and write in French and English tolerably
well and chiefly made use of his little learning to
read novels. Indian and pirate stories, and a copy
of the Relation des Jesuites, which his father
owned, were his favorite books. He had also got
mixed up in some nasty scrapes which had given
his father considerable trouble. He was at that
time '^sowing his wild oats,** as they term it.
Paying my relatives a visit one fall, my uncle
said to me: Alexander, I wish you would take
William down with you for the winter and teach
him how to hunt or shoot; anything to get him
away from here to cure him, if possible, of his
bad habits. I will give you all his expenses and
something over, if you will do so. I did not feel
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 207
very keen about accepting this job, but as I never
kept nor used any liquor myself and knew that
little or none could be had on the North Shore in
winter, I accepted the task, provided, of course,
that my uncle could persuade William to leave
with me, which I very much doubted. However,
this was finally accomplished, due mostly to the
influence of his mother, who was a most excellent
woman, and constantly in dread lest William
shoidd some day get into serious trouble.
We left Quebec about the 1st of September on a
small fishing schooner of twenty tons owned by
Capt. Ferguson, of Sheldrake, and had a rather
long passage down and rough weather. Poor
William was very sea sick and miserable. He
had not even the desire to join the Captain when
the latter offered him some grog. I was not yet
married at that time, but had at home my eldest
sister, who kept house for me, together with two
of my brothers, one of whom, Firmin, was my
partner in trapping. On the way, William had
often talked of and asked questions about In-
dians, which I thought at the time were suggest-
ed by mere curiosity; but I found, later on, that
he was in great dread of them. He had read of
their scalpings and barbarous treatment of pri-
soners and their torture of the missionaries, and
he believed that the Montagnais Indians still re-
tained these customs.
We had a bedroom on the first floor which we asi-
208 LOST IN THE WILDERNE8H
signed to him.It had a window facing north and
a hiindred yards or so due north of it again was a
dense belt of young spruce and Canada balsam.
Three or four days after our arrival, my sister
told me she thought that William did not sleep
in his bed. The bed clothes were turned up and
the pillow and bed pressed down, but the bed was
cold and she was certain it had not been used.
I was rather taken aback by this and wondered if
he had already begun his tricks. Our nearest
neighbour was half a mile distant. Could he
possibly go there? I determined to watch him.
That same night I pretended to retire as usual
about half-past nine, as we had to rise early.
William went to his room and I heard him close
the door carefully and lock it. Coming down-
stairs quietly I slipped out and took a position
from where I could observe the windows of his
room. The light was already extinguished and I
watched a couple of hours to no purpose. We had
arranged to go fishing next day, so at the first
streak of dawn I went to wake him up. He an-
swered immediately, and I heard him shuffling
,on the floor and opening the door. One glance
sufficed to show that he had not lain on the bed,
so I asked him straight what was wrong. He
answered that there was nothing wrong, but that
he was afraid of the Indians and thought that
as he was a stranger they might kill and scalp
him. He also said that he had heard a strange
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 200
yell the first night — ^probably a dog bowling —
and that ever since he had crawled u^der the bed
to sleep I We all had a good laugh and assured
him he could rest without any fear, but it was a
long time before he got over this feeling.
It was in his connection, too, that I first ob-
served the effects on a person of being lost in the
woods. Although furs are not considered prime
before November, preparations are always made
beforehand for the hunt. Trappers going a long
distance inland, often leave in August and it may
take a month before the hunting ground is reach-
ed. Then camps have to be built or repaired,
caches. — ^plaoes for storing provisions — ^have to be
made, traps put in order, snowshoes and sledges
built., etc. Fishing, with either net or line, is
also necessary in order to secure bait for mink
and marten and this has to be dried. All these
little things together take considerable time. It
was with all these things in mind that I made my
first trip with William. We were to be away
two weeks, and then to come back for my brother,
when the trapping was to begin. Our hunting
ground that winter was to be the head waters of
the Trinity river, across to the right branch of the
Manicouagan, about one hundred and eighty
miles distance. Our outfit weighed about six
hundred pounds, not including the canoe. Most
of this was to be cached for the winter. It was
all divided and packed in bags, making with the
210 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
canoe eight loaxls, four trips for each of us, over
erery portage. This enabled us to make but
slow progress and we averaged only about six
miles per day net. William stood this hard
work pretty well. He was young and strong,
and taking quite a liking to this novel kind of
life. We had also some fishing and shooting,
which he enjoyed very much and if it had not
been for his dread of Indians he would have been
quite happy. He dogged my footsteps all the
time, and could not remain alone five minutes
at night in our shelter camp. He used to crawl
into the very Bottom, so as to lie behind me.
On the ninth day we reached the forks of the
Trinity. Here we had a long portage or carry
of four miles in length. We had also a camp
there, where a portion of our kit was to be left.
It was also one of our fishing places and there we
dried trout tor bait. It was then about the be-
ginning of October and the leaves were commenc-
ing to fall, but the undergrowth was still pretty
dense. The portage we had to make that morn-
ing was one seldom used and was overgrown with
alders and other small shrubs. I always carried
the canoe, as I was afraid to trust William with
it, in case he might smash it by a fall. Shoul-
dering it I started on, William following with
one pack, our tin kettle and two axes. The por-
tage led up a long gully, and when about half
way up the mountain, the gully forked and it
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 211
was up the left branch of it that the route
passed. Just at the foot where these two gullies
met it formed a small level bottom covered with
tall alders. In going through this patch one of
the cords of William's pack got entangled in a
branch, which delayed him a few seconds, as he
had to turn around to loosen it. Just about that
moment I was turning to the left, and when he
faced around he could not see me. Too much
flurried to think of shouting out, he started on the
run to overtake me and went straight on up the
right divide. Not getting sight of me then, he
dropped his pack to run faster. By that time I
had probably gone about a hundred, yards, when
not hearing him behind I turned to look. He
was not in sight. I put down the canoe to wait
for him. Not seeing him appear after a couple
of minutes' waiting, and knowing how close he
generally stuck to me, I felt that something must
have happened. I therefore hurried back, look-
ing carefully as I went down. On reaching the
foot of the divide, I saw to my dismay where he
had left the trail. I pushed on as fast as possi-
ble, and came to his pack, and a few yards fur-
ther the two axes and the tin kettle, and then
there began a fearful race. I could follow his
tracks easily enough, but I had to be cautious, so
as not to lose them and therefore knew that he was
going ahead twice as fast as I could follow. My
only chance of overtaking him, I thought, was
212 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
that he would exhaust himself pretty quickly at
the rat6 he was going. Any way I determined to
follow till I found him. Some distance from
where he had dropped the axes and kettle I had
found his hat which had been brushed off his head
and he had never stopped to pick it up. I had
stairted after him without anything, but not con-
sidei'ing this prtident, as I could not know where
and in what condition I would find him, I went
back for one of the axes and the kettle and some
grub from the pack. I was just tying this up
in a small bundle when I heard a noise. Listen-
ing intently, it grew more distinct and came from
the left side of the mountain. I could hear the
breaking of twigs and branches. I knew imme-
diately that it must be William. I rushed in his
direction, shouting out his name, and then I saw
a sight I shall never forget. There he was rush-
ing madly down the hill at the top of his speed,
his face and hands bloody from numerous
scratches, and streaming with perspiration. He
wore very long hair which gave him a still mote
haggard appearance. On catching sight of me he
rushed tbwards me like a wild beast and put his
two arms around my neck, half choking me and
shouting, **AIex, Alex, don't leave me, for God's
sake, don't leave me." I managed to quiet him
and lighted a good fire to give him a rest and
time to cool down. He wa3 very much depressed
and utterly unfit for work that day. In fact it
^^■""^^""■■■■■■"P''^HiPP^P^!l^li|^^
LOST IN THE WILDERNESS 213
was some days before he quite recovered. The
whole thing had not lasted more than half an
hour, but in that short spaoe of time he had near-
ly been driven crazy by fear and the knowledge
that he was lost in the woods. I am positive that
in a oouple of .hours be would have been Qither
dead or out of his mind. It wap by the greatest
of luck that he happened to come back almost, to
his starting point. He had gon@ up the right
gully, then over the spur of the mountain and
down the left one, forming almost a circle of a
mile and a half long. Had I not gone back for
my axe and provisions I should have. missed him
and God alone knows in what condition I should
Rave found him. In the afternoon I returned to
our fishing camp, where he could be made more
comfortable.
The next day we did not travel, and I busied
myself drying fish, and on the third left to re-
turn home. To 3how in what constant dread
the poor fellow was, I will relate an incident that
occurred a little later, on our next trip. That
day we had visited a small chain of lakes, in one
of which I located a beaver lodge. As William
did not understand the handling of a canoe
very well, I thought trapping would be surer
than shooting to secure meat. So I put out two
steel traps and taking note of the direction of the
wind we camped on the southern slope of the lake
some forty or fifty yards from the water. This
214 LOST IN THE WILDERNESS
was a convenient place from which to visit our
traps early in the morning. Behind our camp the
hill rose abruptly, thickly covered with black
spruce. We had our supper and then I stretched
mysetf on the balsam boughs near the fire. Wil-
liam sat and smoked his pipe. I was tired with my
day^s work and dozed off to sleep. I suppose I
slept about a quarter of an hour, when I felt
William shaking me by the shoulder. I turned
round and looked inquiringly. He stooped and
whispered : ''Indians I" I sat up and asked him
where they were. ''Listen/' he said, "and you
will hear; they are throwing stones at us from the
hill." "Why, surely you must be dreaming,"
I answered. "No, no, listen!" A minute or
two and there was a splash in the lake, made by
the flop o'f a beaver's tail. "There," he said,
"did you hear it fall in the water ?" I could not
help laughing and then I told him what it was,
and how it was done by the beaver, and after that
we lay down and slept. He was with me for
nearly a year and learned and saw many things
that were new to him. The trip did not cure him
entirely, but it did him a lot of good. Poor fel-
low I The Indians cannot trouble him much now
unless they are those of the "Happy Hunting
Grounds."
mt mtm of 3Rot>ttatlle
^fl^URiNG the summer of 1863 a large ood-
^^9 fishing establishment was started at Ste.
Marguerite River, not far from the present
site of the Clarke City Pulp Mills. Up to that
time all of these big fish-curing stations were
* under the control of South Shore firms, — ^the Rob-
ins, the Leboutilliers, etc. In the present case
the promoters were Quebec men, two of whom I
had the pleasure of knowing — Messrs. Wright
and Montgomery. Incidentally I may say that
the enterprise proved a failure. Such an estab-
lishment requires quite a number of buildings.
As there were not sufficient people in the vicinity
to furnish the necessary labor, workmen had to
be imported from Quebec. Among those thus en-
gaged was a young man named Robitaille. He
was about twenty-five years old and a carpenter
by trade. After working for some weeks at St.
Marguerite River, he left and drifted up the
coast, getting a small job here and there. Win-
ter found him at Pointe des Monts, where he had
been induced to remain to try hunting and seal
shooting with a possible chance of employment.
With this latter object in view he had made a
couple of trips up to Godbout and had arranged
to build the frame work of a house for a fisher-
216 THE DEATH OF ROBITAILLE
man. The cutting of the timber was to commence
after the early hunt was over. About the end of
January, Savard, for whom the house was to be
built, sent word to Bobitaille to come up. The
trip had to be made on foot over a very rough bit
of ground. The distance was nearty fourteen
miles; one-third of which was over lakes and the
rest through dense woods There was no regular
trail, but at intervals in the worst places there
were a few old ''blazes" on the trees. On the
morning on which Ee left Pointe des Monts for
Godbout, the weather was cloudy and threatening.
Some of the hunters warned him that it was go-
ing to be stormy and that he had better wait.
He would not be persuaded and said it was all
right and tEat he would have no trouble in reach-
ing Godbout, as he had been over the road four
times. About an hour after tie left, an east wind
with snow set in, increasing during the day to a
strong gale which lasted all through that night
and part of the next day, when it cleared up,
with very cold weather. A few days later some
hunters came up from Pointe des Monts to God-
bout and reported the departure of Bobitaille.
As he had not been seen since, it was immediately
surmised that he had perished and a search party
was organized, of which I formed a member.
We had little trouble locating his tracks. He had
gone in the right direction for about four miles,
but had then deviated to the right, presumably
THE DEATH OF ROBITAILLE 217
when the gale set in. Then he had gradually
described a circle of about half a mile and coming
to his own track had followed it, apparently think-
ing that il was somebody else's. Strange to say,
he Kept this up till his track was beaten hard and
hollow. He had a gun, an axe, scmie matches
and a few slices of bread and cooked pork. He
never made any attempt to light a fire or to eat,
but had kept on walking till almost exhausted.
We saw where he had leaned against trees to rest.
FinaUy he had sat down at the foot of a spruce
tree, with his back against it. His knees were
drawn up with his arms and head resting on them
like some one going to sleep. In that position
he had been frozen stiff, with his gun across his
thighs and the parcel of bread attached to it. A
large toboggan had been brought with us. On this
we laid the body and hauled it out to Pointe des
Monls.
jWaior J^tmp i^tott anb
jlotp tie JLo^t W Cane
ll^NE stormy night in August, 1886, I wa-s
KP^ awakened by a rapping at our door.
It was not an unusual thing to be so aroused,
because I was frequently called out in cases
of illness, but I knew by the sound of the rap that
it was that of a stranger. After answering the
call I hastily slipped out of bed and went to the
door in my night shirt. It was raining heavily.
Clad in oilskins from head to feet stood two men.
Immediately I recognized one of them as the cap-
tain of our mail schooner. The other was a
stranger; a tall, heavily-built man of about fifty.
*'I suppose you are Mr. Comeau,'' he said. I
nodded in the affirmative . '*I have a letter of in-
troduction for you, here is my card, and
please excuse me for disturbing you. The reason
is that I have my wife with me and she has been
very sick for the past two days on the schooner,
and I would like, if possible, to have her land to-
night." I told him they were welcome, and that
he might come ashore with her right away.
After he had gone I read on his card :
MAJOR HENRY SCOTT AND HIS CANE 219
Major Henry Scott,
late of 9th Lancers,
Army and Navy Club,
Dover, England.
I had read of the doings of this crack regiment
during the Crimean war. This, coupled with my
friend's letter assured the Major of a warm re-
ception and from that day till his death, some
years later, we were great friends. I have sel-
dom met a man who could do so many things and
do them well, too. He was a regular **Jack of
all trades,'' a good sailor, sailmaker, blacksmith,
carpenter, net- weaver, etc., and in addition to
this, a clever artist, a fine cool shot and a fisher-
man.
There was one thing, however, of which he
knew very little, and that was woodcraft. Among
his many accomplishments he had also that of a
splendid basket-maker, either of the ordinary
rough kind or of the finest fancy work. He had
brought out from England with him a few strips
of a special kind of willow, used there for
fine work. Having shown me these samples he
asked if I knew any similar kind of willow in this
country. I gave him what information I could
on the subject, advising him to go up a small
creek about a mile and a half from our house. To
reach the entrance of this brook there was another
mile to walk, along the beach. Godbout Bay forms
230 MAJOR HENRY SCOTT AND HIS CANE
a sort of basin with a sandy beaoh rising gradual-
ly in ridges for three miles back, where it meets
the mountains forming the Laurentian range.
One fine morning the Major informed me that he
was going out with his wife for a walk towards
the brook, and if the flies were not too bad he
would go and search for some willows. I offered
him a bit of lunch to take with him, which he re-
fused, saying that he would be back in good time
to join us. After going a short distance a fancy
struck him to make a short cut through the woods
to the upper bottom of the creek, thereby saving a
mile of walking. It was the old saying come true,
^'The longest road is sometimes the shortest.*'
They entered the woods, and after a while, los-
ing the general direction, had wandered around.
The sun was bright, and the Major knew enough
to get the approximate point of the compass by
the time, but the lay of the land misled him, and
it was three o'clock in the afternoon before he
struck the Godbout River, two miles West of
where he intended to come out. Not seeing them
returning for lunch, we began to feel anxious,
and our anxiety increased as time wore on; so
that we were heartily glad when they appeared.
They were very tireil, especially the lady, and
badly fly bitten. The Major told us of their trou-
bles, and of course had not found the willows, but
his greatest misfortune was that he had lost his
cane. This was a chef d'ceuvre in its way. The
MAJOR HENRY SCOTT AND HIS CANE 221
handle was a fine piece of carved ivory with a
heavy gold band, and besides its intrinsic value
it was also an heirloom. The Major was very
mnch affected by its loss, and spoke of engaging
men to scour the woods the next day, in the hope
of finding it. He had not the least recollection
of where he had last had it that morning. I told
him I thought this would not be necessary, pro-
vided he could show me whereabouts he had gone
into the woods. He said he could. On the next
morning early I started on the hunt after he had
shown me the place. I had noticed that Mrs.
Scott wore French high heeled boots, and as she
was a tall and heavy woman I felt sure the im-
pression of this narrow heel would afford an easy
trail to follow. I was not mistaken. I picked
it up about as fast as I could walk. It was most
amusing to me to note all their different windings
and the many places where they had sat down to
rest. At one of these I came upon the cane. The
Major had laid it down alongside of him and had
forgotten it on rising to continue on his way.
Two hours after I had left the house I was back
with it. The Major could not suflBciently express
his joy and pressed me with questions as to how
and where I had found it. To please him I rela-
ted how easy it had been to follow Mrs. Scott's
tracks, telling him on what particular side she
had sat down with him at different places and also
of certain obstructions he had moved to allow her
222 MAJOR HENRY SCOTT AND HIS CANE
to pass, etc., and finally where the cane had been
forgotten. * 'Wonderful, wonderful!'* he ex-
claimed. **Well, Mr. Comeau, there is only one
thing you have not mentioned. My wife
picked up in one place three or four nice rasp-
berries.*' I smiled and said, "This was rather
a small detail, but as a matter of fact I had ob-
served it.'* The Major spent two years in Can-
ada and we had several pleasant outings together.
He went on a moose hunt in the Mattawa region
and secured some splendid heads.
Major and Mrs. Scott with their Trophies and Guides
Wi^t to lio if JLiatin ttie Woohti
^iN all the cases of people getting lost in the
^ woods or on the prairie that have come un-
der my observation, I have noticed that they cir-
cled to the right, and imless in time they obtained
some indication of their position, they would end
by recrossing their own tracks and in some in-
stances taking them tor those of others and fol-
lowing them. At such times familiar objects are
often passed by without being recognized. I
have often wondered what is the cause of this.
Is it due to fear or to an excited state of mind ?
Whatever may be the cause, whenever a person
realizes that he is lost, he should, as my father
often told me, keep cool, sit down and make a
fire, and not go on running or walking till ex-
hausted.
My Indian's method was a good one, namely, to
camp and wait for the weather to clear up, so as
to get the Sim's assistance as to direction if you
have no compass. If you come on a track in
winter be sure it is not your own before following
it. If you have a companion in camp, the above
directions are still moie important, as he will like-
ly search for you, and the less distance you travel
the more chance he has of finding you.
Setting fire to birch trees is a good way to in-
224 WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS
dicate posftion, by both sight and smell. Under
favorable conditions, birch bark smoke can be
seraytod mites aw«3$. Bo »ot dasoud your pack
and provisions to lighten yourself, and if game is
scarce, be saving, as you do not know how long
you may be before finding your way. I knew a
man who was lost for six days and came out all
right. Remember that the great secret is:
not to worry. None of the above hints will be of
any use if you do. It must be a very poor place
in the bush where a man with an axe cannot fix
himself up comfortably for a night, even if he
has no tent. The least thing, such as a few
branches, will break the wind, and in winter, if
some snow is thrown over them, additional com-
fort will be secured.
Clothing, footgear and mitts should be well
dried before the fire. If a man gets some little
rest and starts out in the morning with warm,
dry clothes, it makes a great difference in the
day's work that he will be able to perform.
Many a poor fellow has had his feet frost-bitten
from not observing this simple rule.
It will happen sometimes that one may be over-
taken by a heavy snowstorm while out hunting,
and not be provided with snowshoes, or a snow-
shoe is sometimes lost by accident. Travelling
under these circumstances is excessively fatigu-
ing. A temporary snowshoe can be made with a
stout branch of a spruce or balsam tree. This
WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 226
should be tied on to the foot, butt end forwards,
and balanced so that the hind part will be a little
heavier. It will not be very comfortable to wear,
but it is wonderful what relief it will afford when
plodding through deep snow. Thin pieces of
wood, split, or hewn down, are also of help — on
the ski principle, but it takes some little time to
prepare them. If one has twine or skins suitable
for cutting lacings out of, a rough pair of snow-
shoes is easily made in a few hours, if one
knows how to lace them. To do this properly re-
quires practice, but any kind of rough crossing
of the string will do in a case of necessity. Snow-
shoes are not only useful in winter, but are fre-
quently used by Indians and trappers in walking
over swampy or marshy localities at other seasons.
I have foimd them of immense advantage myself
in places of this kind. For such purposes the
short round ones are the best.
While on the subject of snowshoes a word
about the foot straps may not be out of place.
There are various contrivances for this, some of.
them very elaborately got up and all good accord-
ing to the fancy of the wearer or the kind of work
he wants them for; but there is only one kind of
tying that is safe for the hunter or traveller to
use, namely, that which can be removed instantly
by a simple twist of the foot.
I have known of several persons who would have
been drowned, if alone, simply owing to the fact
226 WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS
of having the snowshoe straps tied or strapped to
the foot and being unable to remove them without
the help of the hands. Such a danger presents
itself in going over weak ice, where if a person
breaks through he can never extricate himself
alone with his snowshoes on. If the accident
happens on a river where the current is strong he
will be dragged under. Two hunters were
drowned in this manner on the Ste. Marguerite
river.
Suilbittg a ^ixt. — ^Although lighting a fire
seems to be a very simple thing, there are
many occasions when it requires a good deal of
skill and experience to do it quickly and properly.
In heavy rain or a snowstorm, it is necessary
to have at hand sufficient materials to start a good
fire at once. Birch bark in this northern section
is the great lighter, and can be found almost
everywhere. Where this is not available, de-
cayed wood comes next, some kinds igniting like
powder. Obtain this from standing trees. Fall-
en timber is always more or less wet. Having
everything ready, lay one piece of wood down,
then your birch bark chips or anything else you
have as a lighter, then your small bits of wood,
and on these the larger ones, according to the size
of fire needed, being careful to leave air spaces
between. This is very essential, otiierwise your
fire will not burn brightly. The laying of a first
WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 237
piece to raise the small sticks, is to secure drait;
otherwise the weight of your material will choke
the fire. When once well under way, almost any-
thing will bum, no matter how wet it may be.
Avoid building a fire alongside of a cliff, or a
large standing tree, as the first is dangerous from
pieces falling or flying off when heated. The sec-
ond may burn sufficiently through the trunk to
fall during the night. If a tree is cut down, how-
ever, before lighting your fire, the stump forms a
most excellent back piece, and when well lighted,
will make a fire that will last for hours. Since
the introduction of tents and camp stoves, the
need of open fires has decreased, but even in man-
aging a stove, there is a knack in the lighting of
it, the principle of which is to allow air space.
When I was trapping with my brother, we
often made experiments as an amusement — ^some-
times in cases of necessity — ^in lighting a fire
without matches. The steel and flint were still
in existence in those days, and we always had
them, with pimk or burnt cotton, which we kept
in a waterproof bag, made out of sealskin or
sometimes of the skin of some small animal. In
the old times this was carried daily on a belt, but
in our case it was left hanging in our permanent
camp, as a reserve in case our matches gave out or
were accidentally lost or spoiled. Making a fire
from the flint and steel was quite easy, but I had
read that some tribes made fire by rubbing two
228 WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS
pieces of wood together, and this is what we were
after. I am sorry to say that I cannot recom-
mend it as a fire maker, but it is a fine warmer,
because after a few minutes working the perspir-
ation would be running down our faces. By us-
ing a block of wood as a base and another piece as
a drill, with a loose cord and bow, we managed
to get smoke, but I never saw any fire, probably
because we could not keep up the exercise long en-
ough t A lens and a piece of punk is a better
way if there is a clear sun, the only drawback be-
ing that in winter the sun is often invisible. Our
''Montagnais" Indians take great pride in their
skill in woodcraft and rather look upon their
white brother as a tenderfoot. In my rambles in
the woods we often camped, met and lived with
them. One evening we had a visit in our camp
from some of them who were in the vicinity and
they were puzzled on seeing our fire block and
drill to know what they were for. I explained
the matter and they said that they had never
heard of fire being so obtained in their tribe.
Different methods were then discussed, when to
their astonishment I claimed I could either burn
their fingers or light a fire with a piece of ice.
They all thought that this was a joke, and when
I maintained that it could really be done, one of
them offered to bet his best beaver skin that it was
impossible. I told him to come next day about
noon, if fine, and to bring his skin, when I would
WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 229
not only bum his hand, but would give him the
secret as well. Sure enough, the next day he was
on time, but not alone. The whole family had
come to witness the magical performance. I had
prepared in the meantime a nice clear piece of ice.
Out of this I shaped with my knife a lens of about
three inches in diameter, which I polished by nib-
bing it over with the palm of my hand. When
ready, I took hold of his hand, and concentrating
the rays of the sun on it, I soon, of course, burned
him. In his unbelief he had held his hand so
long in that position that I raised a blister on it.
I then lighted a piece of punk and a fire by the
same method, as promised, and claimed the skin,
which the Indian said he was glad to give in ex-
change for this secret. I presume that after that
he won some bets from his friends. With the old
style flint lock gun it was also easy to get fire by
placing powder in the pan with a piece of dry
cotton or even with damp cotton if one was care-
ful to rub it well previously with dry powder.
With the percussion cap gun or the breech-loader
it requires more care. Take a piece of camp cot-
ton, rub it well with dry powder, then load into
the gun or cartridge about half a dram of powder
and place your prepared cotton over it as a light
wad. Have some punk or dry, decayed wood
ready, besides what wood and kindling you may
want, and when you have discharged the gun and
picked up the rag you will find it on fire. After
that It is only a matter of fanning to get a blaze.
280 WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS
If too large a charge of powder is used, the wad
will be extinguished by velocity and contact.
S^Utpin^ in tire 5ltt0to.— One winter I had my
permanent camp on the border of Lake She-
tagomau, the head waters of the east branch
oi the Manicouagan Biver. About the middle
of February my brother and myself decided to
go on an exploring trip of about two days'
wOjlking, further north, on the lookout for
suitable marten ground. As we were not out
for meat we arranged to go as light as possible,
so as to cover more ground. We each carried
one Bxe, a quart tin kettle, and sufficient grub for
four days, wrapping this last in our shelter tent,
— a piece of cotton ten feet long, by six wide —
which made our pack and which we carried turn
about. We made an early start, as we travelled
over six miles on the lake and then took to the
woods, and had a long day's tramp. About four
o'clock we halted to camp for the night. There
was the same old job of clearing the snow, cutting
wood and branches and setting up the shelter tent
in a half circle. When all this was done, my
brother went for water to a small lake nearby. I
got ready to light the fire, when to our discour-
agement we found we had no matdies. I usually
carried these in my pockets in a small vial, well
corked, and thus absolutely waterproof. In some
way, probably while chopping or collecting the
MY BROTHER **JOE" COMEAU
My "Pard** in Trapping for Some Years.
WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 231
wood, I had lost them. Neither of us smoked,
consequently we had no loose matches, although
we fumbled all through our pockets just the same.
Night had now set in and it was well nigh impos-
sible to travel back, besides which we were very
fired, so I proposed that we should have
something to eat and then try and get a little rest
by lying down in the snow. If we found it too
cold we were to get up and walk back the best way
we could to our camp, which we estimated to be
about twenty miles away. We ate some dried
smoked beaver and frozen galettes — camp made
bread — for our supper, and then set to work pre-
paring our bed. I tramped down a trough in the
snow six feet long by about three wide. On the
bottom of this we laid a lot of the fine branches
we had cut for our camp. Over this we laid half
of the sheltCT tent, then one of our coats, removing
our shoes and putting them also under us. Then
we both got into the trench, bringing the
other half of the cotton over us and piling on
snow, up to our waist, using our second coat as
an additional covering over our body and shoul-
ders. With a branch in one hand I then swept
over us as much snow as I could and covered our
heads with the cotton, shaking some of the snow
oyer. For a little while it was rather cold, but
it soon got more comfortable and we went asleep
iind to our surprise only woke up at daylight.
On the inside surface the snow had melted and
232 :WHAT TO DO IP LOST IN THE WOODS
glazed, retaining the heat, but we felt damp
and chilly on getting out, and had to hurry up
and walk to warm ourselves. We returned to
our camp, and felt no ill effects from our night in
the snow. After that night each of us carried
a vial of matches. I slept in the snow again
after that, but I was provided with a good hare
skin blanket and coton wrapper, and we followed
the same plan occasionally to save the time and
work of making a camp when after caribou or on
a long tramp.
Jl lare »}dn Xlanket; lotir it is HCa&t.— I do
not believe there is anything in creation so warm
for its weight as this kind of blanket. For com-
fort I would sooner have one of them than six
ordinary woollen ones. A pair of four or four
and a half points old style H. B. Co. blankets
used to weigh about fourteen poimds. A hare
skin of the same size will weigh about five. One
hundred hare skins are required to make a blan-
ket of the above size, but twenty-five is sufficient
to begin the work, and a little is added from time
to time as the skins are secured. On skinning the
hare the skin is left with the fur inside and al-
lowed to dry, by hanging outside. If dried in
the heat of the camp it gets burned and breaks.
The same will apply to all kinds of fur. They
should never be exposed to the heat of a fire or to
the sun. The skins are moistened and set up on
the rounded head of a stake, covered with some
WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 233
soft substance, to allow the skin to rotate. With
a sharp knife it is then cut into strips of an inch
wide, beginning at the hind part and working
around till the neck is reached, when it is cut off
and the head thrown away. This will make a
strip of about eight feet long for each skin. This
skin, while still fresh and moist, is twisted
around rope fashion and laid aside. To twist it
easily, one end is secured, and a small rounded
stick with a split in one end to hold the strip, is
applied at the other extremity, and then twirled
aroimd between the hands, or betwen the hand
and thigh. The knitting is done on the fingers
in the same way as a net is made, and when com-
pleted one can just push the fingers through the
meshes. In common with many other things, a
hare skin blanket has its good and bad points.
Its advantages are its warmth, lightness and
cheapness, and the fact that it can be made in
the woods. Its disadvantages are the readiness
with which it tears, and the fact that it cannot
be washed or cleaned. We used to throw it away
after our hunt was over, and make a new one the
following season. Some years when hares are
abundant, a hundred or so can be snared by one
man in three or four days. In an old brule — a
burnt forest covered with second growth — ^I once
shot fifty-two in one afternoon. Shooting, how-
ever, is seldom practiced as it is considered a
waste of ammunition in the woods, snaring being
the usual method of capture.
gUrmtt tde M. tatoreme
^■Khbre have been so many versions of this ex-
%i/ perienoe of our's, — all more or less true,—
that I have decided to give my readers a plain and
simple narrative of the occurrence.
I am very fond of seal shooting, and aside from
its pecuniary returns, I consider it really good
sport. In pursuit of it I went down to Pointe
des Monts early in January, 1886. We — ^my
eldest brother Isaie and myself — had very good
luck, having killed fourteen seals in one week's
shooting, and were then waiting for a favorable
day to return home to Godbout. On the 18th and
19th we had a strong east wind and a heavy fall
of snow, clearing up slightly on the evening of
the last date. North-easterly winds come a little
oflE shore, along the cliflEs, between Pointe des
Monts and Godbout and drive the ice away from
the land. We therefore had some hope of getting
up to Godbout early on the 20th, and I wired my
wife to expect me for breakfast if the weather
continued fine. We left Pointe des Monts at 3
a.m. as intended. It was quite calm and mild for
a winter day. My object in leaving so early
was to try to reach Godbout before the westerly
wind arose, for I expected it would be a strong
gale, as the barometer had been falling steadily.
i
•w
L.
Pointe del Moots
Li^ht- House.
Flaying a Seal.
Entrance ot the Mistaisini Rirer
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 236
We proceeded aJoug shore in pretty dear water,
now and then meeting a stray piece of ioe, and
made five miles, when we met a solid barrier of
slush ice — ^mixed snow and water— extending as
far out as we could see in the dim light. We
lay near this ice for some time, waiting for day-
light, in case we might see some opening in the
ice which we could pass through.
When it became clear enough, we saw that it
was impossible to reach Godbout. The tide was
also falling and this slush ice was getting thicker
all the time, so that the easiest and best thing to
do was to return to Pointe des Monts, as it was
clear in that direction.
The currents are very strong here, nearly al-
ways down the river, and they vary in strength,
according to the winds, running from one and a
half to two and a half knots per hour. They are
deflected by the land to the westward, and diverted
into a S. E. direction, thus forming east of Pointe
des Monts, an immense eddy. Thus on the east
of the point there is a strong flood with a corres-
ponding strong ebb west of it. East of the Point
the ice and slush was jammed right up to the
shore and moving west.
In the open space of water outside the Point
was a canoe manned by two brothers, Francis and
Alfred Labrie ,who were hunting seals. They
had aihot at a seal and wounded it .and were busy
chasing it when we nearod Pointe des Monts on
7» ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE
our return. They were then aboat one mik and
a half off shore^ in a bay formed by the jagged
edge of the ice that was coming f rcxn the west and
inside of them, and nearly meeting that from the
east. I saw at a glance that this channel of dear
water was closing fast, and wayed to them a dan-
ger signal with my paddle. They were so occu-
pied with their chase of the wounded seal, how-
erer, that they did not notice me. In the mean-
time we had gradually neared this gap, which
was rapidly closing upon them. To make
things worse the wind was rising fast and threat-
ened a gale. One canoe alone, closed in that
slush, meant certain death : for two there was a
chance of getting out.
Turning to my brother, I said, "What do you
say to going in and helping them?''
*'Do what you think best,*' was his answer.
We pushed out and one minute later the ice
closed behind us. The Labries had now realized
their danger, and were rowing towards us with
all their might. Steadily the ice came down, in-
creasing the width of the barrier behind us, and
the wind and current setting us out from shore.
When the canoe joined us the open space of water
was reduced to a few hundred yards with a quar-
ter mile barrier of slush ahead of us. A few
minutes later we were quite surrounded.
Paddling or rowing in slush ice is an impos-
sible thing. The canoe sticks fast in it and will
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 237
not move, and though it may vary in thickness
from six to seven inches to as many feet, one can-
not walk on it. The only means of advance in
such a case is to work the canoes in the manner
termed by seal hunters ''ladder work,'* which is
accomplished in the following manner: All the
four men get into one canoe. The light and emp-
ty one is then drawn up alongside and pushed
forwards its whole length. The men then all get
into it, while the other is in turn drawn up and
the same thing repeated over and over again.
Twelve feet are thus gained each time. It is slow
and laborious work, but it has been the salvation
of many a canoe's crew. In our case it failed
owing to the gale of northwest wind and the heavy
current. For three hours we worked steadily at
this "ladder work," losing ground all the time,
till we gave it up as a useless expenditure - of
strength.
A canoe manned by another brother of mine —
Peter — and a young hunter named M. Boucher,
made a desperate attempt to come out to us, but
the gale had increased so much that they had to
turn back. When we ceased work we were more
than four miles out.
In the canoes we were very much exposed to
the cold wind and badly cramped up, besides
which I was soaking wet. Here and there
amongst the slush were pieces of solid ice. We
therefore went to work again to reach such a
288 ACR088 THE ST. LAWRENCE
piece, and hauled up our canoes on it. It was
about fifty feet long by twenty or so wide, and
thick enough to be solid. We laid one of the
canoes on its keel crossways to the wind, driving
our harpoons in the itie to hold it against the gale.
The second canoe we turned on its side behind the
other, banking up the ends and sides with pieces
of ice and snow, which we handled with our pad-
dles.
We had now some slight shelter from the bit-
ing wind. The cold was also increasing. This
work on the ice had warmed us up a little and I
took advantage of this to strip and wring out my
trousers and socks, as in attempting to haul the
canoe over a piece of ice I had broken through
and gone into the water up to the waist. All we
could do just then was to tramp around, beat our
hands and try to keep warm. I soon warmed
myself up in this manner and urged the others to
do the same. The ice driven off shore by the
gale opened a broad lane of open water to
the north of us. This gave us a ray of hope.
Should the wind calm down we still might have a
chance in that direction.
We had no food of any kind with us and during
the whole day I had kept my gun and rifle handy
in case a seal should show up within range. We
saw a few, but at a long distance, but my pa-
tience was rewarded by getting a shot at a flock
of long-tailed ducks — old squaws — and I brought
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 239
down three, which we secured. They were a
God-send to us. My brother was suffering from
Gold feet and hands. I plucked the feathers,
warm and dry and stuffed his mittens and shoes
with them, the two Labries using in the same way
what little was left. The meat I put in my car-
tridge bag in reserve. All that day we held on
to our piece of ice. The wind had increased to
a strong gale and the weather clearing, it got
intensely cold. (It registered that evening at
Pointe des Monts, 15^ below zcto) .
At sunset we were about 14 miles S.-E. of
Pointe des Monts. Mr. Fafard, the lighthouse
keeper, had very thoughtfully kindled the light
for us, in case we might require it as a guide to
the shore. For a while it showed us our position,
but at eight o'clock we lost sight of it. The
ever-increasing width of open water to the N-W.
of us was now sufficiently long to raise a good sea
and we began to feel the roll, till near 10 p.m. it
became so heavy that the sea washed over our piece
of ice. The open water was then close to us. I
estimated we were then 18 miles S.-E. of Pointe
des Monts. Our only safety now lay in getting
deeper into the ice towards the South Shore. The
canoes were got ready and we shoved on south-
wards. For awhile we resumed the **ladder
work'*. Then as we got further south, the ice got
firmer with the cold, and began to bear us, and
we dragged the canoes. An hour later we struck
240 :. L^CROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE
a lane of open water. It ran about S.-W. from
us and was nearly four miles long. We rowed as
hard as we could to warm ourselves up. This
lane finally narrowed down to nothing and we had
to get on the ice and drag the canoes again. It
was awfully hard work and we made slow pro-
gress ; as nearly as I could judge about one mile an
hour. The ice formation was different also,
being much thicker, and the rasping and creaking
of it was something terrible. Ridges would form
in a few seconds and of these we had to be careful
so as not to have our canoes caught and crushed.
It must have been jamming somewhere about that
time, because after a while its motion ceased, and
we crossed two or three small lanes of open water,
when the dragging of the canoes was resumed.
We worked this in spells of ten minutes with an
intervening rest of five minutes. During the first
part of the dragging we had thrown away every-
thing not absolutely required, the boat anchors,
one harpoon, knee pads — ^which being soaked
were useless — our steel hook, all the bottom boards
and about one hundred and fifty cartridges, —
keeping twenty-five in case of need. The wind
had not at all abated, but as we got to the south-
ward it became more westerly and increased our
drift eastwards very perceptibly. Allowance
had to be made for it, by working more westerly.
This increased our distance considerably, but
was the only way to avoid being swept down below
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 241
Cape Chatte or Cape Ste. Anne, where the river
widens out very much.
About 5 a.m. we met a large hummock of ice
and got under shelter of it for a rest. My bro-
ther and I had had nothing to eat or drink for
thirty-six hours nor the Labries for twenty-four.
They had taken breakfast before going out. I
did not feel the hunger much, but I was very thirs-
ty, as were all the others, and occasionally they
would eat a little snow on the sly, as I would not
permit it, the effect being very bad and weaken-
ing. Here we divided two of the ducks for our
breakfast — ''harelda glacialis'' an naturel. It
was very j&ne, but I thought our cook might have
left out the glacicUis. However, we partly got
over this by holding it under the arm inside of our
coats, for some minutes. We felt refreshed with
this slight moal and the canoe dragging was re-
newed.
At daylight I caught sight of Cape Chatte,
about twelve miles distant, and bearing S.-E.
from us and this was comforting to me, as show-
ing that we had held our own against the drift.
As far as I could see, the ice, although most of it
in broken pieces, was solidly packed. It was an
older formation too, as there was snow on it,,
making the dragging very heavy. Our progress
became slower, and my companions showed signs
of exhaustion. With the rising of the sun the
wind had increased, driving the cold through us.
242 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE
My brother and Francis Labrie were suffering
very much from it, their faces and hands getting
frost-bitten, so that every now and then they had
to be rubbed to restore the circulation. When I
called a rest, they would drop down in the canoe
and want to sleep. It was with considerable
trouble that they were kept awake.
So far we had dragged the two canoes in case of
meeting weak ice, but owing to the exhausted
condition of these two members of our party, it
was impossible to continue it, so we abandoned
mine, as being slightly heavier. We also left be-
hind, our two pairs of oars, reserving only one
paddle for each. Tying the rope of the steel hook
on each side of the remaining canoe, my brother
and Francis could help in the dragging; Alfred,
who held out better than his brother, helping me
at the bow. All through that day it was the same
weary drag, with an occasional few yards of open
water, and gradually the shore loomed up. I
had much trouble keeping my brother awake and
his hands from freezing. Alfred also showed
signs of exhaustion and his hands were getting
frost-bitten also. At 2.30 p.m. we drifted past
Cape Chatte about two miles distant. Inside,
along the shore, I could see a lane of open water.
I urged them all to make an effort for an hour to
reach this. I think it was the longest hour of
all, but we made it, and our canoe was afloat
once more. Except for a thin ice on the surface.
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 243
it was now clear right up to the shore at Ste. Aniie
Point, which was the nearest land, about one and
a quarter mile distant. We were so tired that the
paddling of this short distance occupied nearly an
hour and we landed just as darkness came on.
To try and attract the attention of the people
on shore I had fired ten or twelve shots as we ap-
proached and although they were heard, no at-
tention had been paid to them, as the shooting
was supposed to come from some of the shore peo-
ple.
It felt good to step on land again. My brother
was very cold, perfectly chilled by sitting in the
canoe, where I could not give him much attention,
having to paddle and steer. His hands, face and
feet were badly frost-bitten, and the Labrie broth-
ers had their faces and hands frozen.
We had landed opposite a farm house occupied
by Mrs. G. Tanguay and her three children, two
young girls and a boy — ^the eldest of the family —
about 12 years old. The little chap, happening to
be playing in the road, saw us landing, and I also
got a glimpse of him as he ran away. Rushing
into the house he told his mother that four drunk-
en Indians were coming up to the house. He had
seen me with my fringed buckskin coat helping
my brother up and the two Labries staggering
behind us. It was no wonder that he thought we
were drunk! Reaching the door I knocked and
received no answer. The light had been put out
244 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE
and the door barricaded. I called loudly in
French and heard one of the girls who had been
peeping at us, say, 'They are not Indians."
Mrs. Tanguay then came to the door and after a
question as to who we were, the door was opened.
The poor woman on seeing our condition was ex-
ceedingly grieved to have kept us waiting and she
hustled around, taking oflE our ice-covered cloth-
ing, to make up for it. A neighbour was sent for
to help in rubbing the frost-bitten men. In the
meantime our hostess set to work making pan-
cakes for our supper. I told her she need not
bother about them for the moment. They had no
tea, so we took some hot milk and water and a
piece of toasted bread and butter. We wrapped
up my brother in a warm blanket and put him to
bed, as he was completely played out. The boy,
and one of the neighbours, hauled up our canoe
and took up our guns and snowshoes — ^my bro-
ther's and mine — for the Labries had none.
After this was all kindly attended to, I enquired
about the telegraph office and was told that it was
about two miles further east, and that the road,
owing to the recent gale, was very bad, and be-
sides this that Mrs. T. had no horse. Being very
anxious to send news to all our relatives, I decid-
ed to go on my snowshoes and save time. I was
very warmly received by the Agent, Mr. T. J.
Lamontagne, and the telegrams were sent imme-
diately. He also insisted upon driving me back
ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 245
in his cariole to Mrs. Tanguay's, for which I felt
very graceful, as well as for his very kind ofiFer of
funds to meet our return expenses to Quebec, and
of a drive to Cape Chatte the next day, where I
wanted to make arrangements for horses and
sleighs to drive us up. The Labries had also an
uncle residing there, whom we wanted to see.
My brothers and Labries were sleeping when I re-
turned and I found a bed ready for me, but instead
of occupying it, I sat on a chair near the stove
and dropped asleep. I did not go to bed at all
that night, but sitting in the chair I woke now
and then and would take a few strides in the
house, sit down and go off to sleep again. Next
morning I felt no effects of the trip at all and had
been lucky in escaping without a frost bite.
The news of our arrival on the South Shore
spread like wild-fire and about nine a.m. Mr.
Antoine Labrie came down for his nephews. Ac-
cording to his promise, Mr. Lamontagne came to
drive me up to Cape Chatte and advanced me one
hundred dollars for our expenses. At Cap
Chatte I arranged for three sleighs, on one of
which we fitted a sort of padded box seat, in
which we strapped my brother when we travelled.
His hands and feet were so swollen that he could
neither walk nor help himselt. While at Cape
Chatte we were most hospitably entertained by
Mr. Antoine Labrie. He insisted on our remain-
ing two days with him to recuperate and to allow
of the roads getting somewhat better, which I
246 ACR088 THE ST. LAWRENCE
t;hought was very sensible advice. He and the
Messrs. Blanchet, Fournier and Gagne drove us
to Metis, making no charge beyond their expenses
and that of the horses ; and I could not in any way
prevail upon them to accept a small remuneration.
It was really most generous on their part, as it
occasioned them the loss of more than a week's
time.
About 8.80 p.m., on the first evening we were
at Cape Chatte, a messenger came in saying that
I was wanted at the telegraph office. On reach-
ing it I found that the possibility of our having
reached the South Shore in such weather seemed
so extraordinary that the genuineness of the tele-
grams sent had been doubted, our friends fearing
that they had been forwarded merely to pave the
way for worse news later. Seeing this, Mr.
Edwin Pope, Manager of the G.N.W. Telegraph
Company, at Quebec, had personally arranged a
connection of the different lines and the placing
of a repeating instrument in Quebec, to give us a
telegraphic connection clear through to Godbout,
so that I could communicate with my wife, who is
also an operator. How considerate this was on
the part of Mr. Pope and all poncerned, I leave
to my readers to judge t The combination repre-
sented nearly a thousand miles of wire, and over
this my wife and I exchanged greetings and I
gave her a brief account of our trip and our then
condition and intentions. The wire wfts left at
our disposal for an hour.
^iir &tt«rn 3ovxntp
\^^^ remained two days at Cape Chatte. guests
TJLr of Mr. Antoine Labrie, and early on the
third morning, everything being ready, we start-
ed with four of the best horses that could be pro-
cured. Just before leaving the village, one of
the drivers asked me if I did not think it would be
prudent, in case of necessity, to get a bottle of
brandy. I answered that personally I did not
require any, but that if others thought it neces-
sary he might buy a bottle, for which I handed
him $1.25. Then he remarked that he could not
procure it unless he was sick, but that as I was a
stranger and had a sick brother, the Cure would
give me the necessary certificate. As we had to
pass the good Cure's door, I called on him and
was given a slip of paper initialed and marked
broadly with a paint brush in red, and with this
document my driver was given the desired art-
icle at the medical depot. It was surprising to
see how chilled the drivers became, two or three
times that day, driving against a strong westerly
wind. It took us three hours and a half to reach
Capucins, a small settlement ten miles west of
Cf^pe Chatte, where we had lunch and gave the
horses a rest, and in the evcQing we reached
Mechins, making a total of twenty-five miles for
248 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
the day, which, considering the awful condition
of the roads, we thought satisfactory. We put
up for the night at a farm house, — ^Mr. Letour-
neau's, — ^where we were very kindly treated and
for supper had some fine caribou steaks, one of
the sons having killed a couple of caribou in the
vicinity while cutting wood. I was told that they
frequently came down to the settlements.
There was still in use in this house an old-
fashioned iron lamp, shaped like a pitch ladle,
and burning common train oil. It was a sort of
two story affair, the under portion being intended
to receive the drippings. The handle, which was
bent, was secured to a double wooden ratchet by
which it could be raised or lowered at pleasure.
The ceiling of the house and the rafters were the
color of the top masts of a collier. After a little
persuasion, I induced the old lady to part with it
for an ordinary coal oil lamp and two gallons of
oil, and this old relic now adorns a private collec-
tion.
From Mechins west the roads were somewhat
better and less hilly and we had lunch at Pointe a
la Baleine. This was a sort of regular stopping
place, and Mrs. P., who kept the house, insist-
ed on treating my brother and the drivers to a
nice hot drink of what she called ''whisky blanc,"
but which was, I suspected, of her own manufac-
ture. It had a smell of turpentine, sulphuric acid
and pepper combined, and must have been very
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 249
warming stuff indeed. I took advantage of the
first chance I had to pour my brother's portion in-
to a slop pail. When she saw the empty tin cup a
few minutes later she expressed the hope it would
'* do the poor young man a lot of good.'*
Early that evening we reached Matane, where
we put up for the night, having travelled about
thirty-six miles. We were now getting into a
more densely populated section and the roads were
fair. We left Matane early and reached the
I.C.B. station at Summit, Metis, about 4 p.m.,
making our best day's drive — ^about 45 miles. I
found several telegrams awaiting me here,
amongst them one from the late Colonel Allan
Gilmour, of Ottawa, congratulating us upon our
safe arrival on the South Shore and advising me
to draw on him for one hundred dollars to pay
our expenses up to Quebec, — ^a very liberal and
most welcome gift at that moment. A second
message was from a personal friend in Quebec,
advising us to wait at Metis till the next day, as
he was trying to get us a free passage over the
I. C. Ry. However, my brother's condition
would not allow of any delay and I preferred to
pay our fares and to hurry up. It was as well
that we did, as I heard afterwards that my
friend's request had not been granted.
We put up at a small boarding house near the
station, kept by a Mr. Beaulieu, who did all he
could to make us comfortable. A young gentle-
260 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
man whom I took for a commercial traveller, was
boarding there. He appeared to take a great
deal of interest in the narrative of our trip dur-
ing the evening and sympathized very much with
my brother's sufferings. Next morning as we
were getting ready to leave, he accosted me and
said, ''Look here my friend, I am a poor man
and can only spare twenty dollars, but if you are
in need of them, here they are, so make use of
them for your companions and yourself.''
I was so surprised at this generous offer from a
perfect stranger, that for a moment I could not
answer. I thanked him very much for his good
intentions and his great kindness, but told him
that for the present we were not in sufficient need
to justify my acceptance of his very generous
offer. Upon enquiry I found that this gentle-
man's name was Gauvreau, and that he was a
stationer from Quebec. I could not obtain his
initials^ nor have I met him since, but if these
lines should strike his eye some day, I wish to
thank him again.
The conductor of the I. C. Ry. train that day,
Mr. Cputurier, of Levis, was very obliging to us
in ^tting a double seat arranged like a bed,
where my brother could lie down and be more
comfortable. At Trois Pistoles Station some ftice
hot broth md toast were brought on the train for
my brother, and the rest of us were served with re-
freshments by Mr. Dery and his family, for which
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 25X
no remuneration would be accepted. We arrived
at Levis after dark, and learned that owing to
the condition of the ice there would be no ferry
boat that night, so I had to seek lodgings in the
meantime. In an adjacent hotel, after consid-
erable haggling, I secured a small room in the
upper portion of the house, which was very in-
convenient, as my brother being too weak and suf-
fering too much to walk, we had to carry him.
We had tea and breakfast there, for which we
were charged the modest sum of six dollars and
fifty cents I Whatever may have been this good
landlord's qualities, humanity did not seem to be
his failing. We really could not complain much,
for in all our trip, which occupied a month, this
was the only exception to the generosity that
marked our homeward trip. About 8.30 a.m.,
the ice permitting, we crossed over to Quebec and
were met at the ferry landing by many friends
and symp'athizers, chief among whom were
Colonel Vohl, Messrs. A. Fraser, J. HoUiday, E.
Beaudet, E. N. Chinic, Arthur Turcotte, Ed.
Giroux, L. Noel, C. Bergevin, A. Toussaint, J.
G. Bruneau, G. VanFelson, Wm. Doyle and
others. After many handshakes and congratula-
tions, we were driven up to the residence of Mr.
Noel, an intimate friend of the family, where my
brother and two companions were taken care of.
Colonel Vohl insisting upon my beiing his guest
4wwg our stay in Quebec. Dr. M- J. Ahern
262 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
was called in and attended to my brother's feet
and hands, and, later on. assisted by Dr. Catel-
lier, performed the necessary amputations. He
also prescribed for young Labrie, who was suffer-
ing from a severe cold. Mr. Noel would not allow
my brother to go to the hospital at all, and certain-
ly nothing could exceed the care and attention be-
stowed on him by Mrs. Noel and her family. Be-
tween Dr. Ahern*s skilful treatment and Mrs.
NoeFs good nursing, my brother recovered, but it
was three months before he could go home. In
about a week young Labrie was sufficiently well to
return home with me, but he never entirely recov-
ered from the effects of that trip.
We remained a week in Quebec, and while
there were the recipients of much kindness and
many attentions. I had the honor of being present-
ed to Lieut.-Governor Masson, and of receiving
at his hands a handsome silver medal and clasp.
A special report of our experience on the ice was
sent to the Marquis of Lansdowne by Sir Hector
Langevin and Mr. J. U. Gregory, and, most pro-
bably through this representation I had the honor
of receiving, a few weeks later, the bronze medal
of the Royal Himiane Society. Some months
afterwards my brother and I received, through
their general delegate in Canada, F. B. E. Gam-
peau, Esq., the diploma and medal of the
Societe des Chevaliers Sauveteurs des Alpes Mari-
time, of Nice, and the Dominion Government pre-
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 263
sented us each with a pair of binoculars with an
appropriate inscription; honors, I thought, out of
all proportion to the simple act of duty we had
performed. The reporters of the different local
papers chased us around to get some details of our
trip, but as I was averse to having these made
public, I managed to give them the slip several
times, for which I ask their forgiveness to-day.
We had now a three hundred miles journey be-
fore us and as soon as the two Labries were suf-
ficiently recovered we left Quebec. We bought
some snowshoes and other necessary articles for
the trip, and as our funds had been exhausted on
the way from Cape Chatte to Levis, several of the
leading citizens of Quebec subscribed to form a
purse of one hundred and ten dollars, which was
presented to us to defray the expenses of our
homeward journey. Owing to the generous de-
sire of nearly everybody to help us along, this
sum proved more than ample. It paid for
our outfit and travelling expenses and left suflS-
cient to pay the doctor's bill and other small ex-
penses for my brother in Quebec. It need scarce-
ly be remarked, therefore, that Dr. Ahern's bill
was far from being a heavy one. Truly of him it
may be said, ''his left hand does not know what
his right hand doeth.'*
At 11 a.m. on Sunday, February 7th, we left
Quebec on snowshoes, getting on the ice near the
C. P. R. station, and heading direct for Chateau
254 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
Bicher. A number of our friends came ddwn to
the river to see us off, and as we passed down Pal-
ace Hill, a number of Irish boys cheered us. Thus
amid many good wishes we left old Quebec behind
us I We reached Chateau Richer about 1 p.m.
As young Labrie was getting somewhat tired and
thirsty, we decided to take a short rest and get a
cup of tea. We each carried a gun — ^the sealing
guns we were taking back — ^and a pack of about
18 lbs. We were directed in answer to our en-
quiries to a boarding house kept by Mr. Lefran-
cois. As we entered I think our armed appear-
ance did not impress him very favorably. I asked
if we could have a cup of tea. '*Well," he said,
'' it's Sunday, and after usual meal hours, but I
will see my wife and let you know.** In about
five minutes he returned, ana I saw by his looks
that there was not much prospect of getting any-
thing. Without referring to my question he sat
down and asked where we came from and why
we carried so many guns. I answered that we
had come from Quebec that morning, but that
we belonged to the North Shore and were going
home.
''Why!'* he exclaimed, '4s it possible that you
are the men who suffered so much in crossing the
St. Lawrence V
He had no sooner received our answer than he
rushed off and called his wife to introduce us to
her and then told her to hurry up and get us
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 256
something to eat. We were served with an excel-
lent dinner m quick time. At his request we
gate him a short narrative of our trip. He asked
me for my brother's address in Quebec and I
heard later that he paid him two or three visits.
Very much to his regret we refused his kind offer
to stay there overnight, as we wanted to reach
Ste. Anne, where I had already arranged for a
driver. We could not persuade Mr. Lefrancois
to accept anything for his trouble, so thanking
him for his kindness we bade him good-bye.
Mr. Xavier Pare, our driver, had agreed to
take us from Ste. Anne to Murray Bay for the
small sum of twelve dollars. When we reached
Ste. Anne he explained he was charging us very
little more than his expenses for the trip, and
that he hoped we would not object to walking a lit-
tle where the hiUs were bad. We readily agreed,
being quite accustomed to walking, but the next
day we found that it was practically all hills and
that we were walking all the time, to which I did
not object, as I was really more comfortable walk-
ing than sitting quiet in the cariole, and getting
Benumbed with the cold. The roads were so
bad that it was night before we reached Bale
St. Paul. We put up at a hotel kept by a Mr.
Bois. During the evening he asked me many
questions about my family and where we had lived
on the North Shore. I thought he was rather in-
quisitive, but as I had nothing to hide I gave him
266 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
the desired information, and also, as usual at
every place at which we stopped, an account of
our experience on the ice. Next morning we were
called up at 5 a.m., as our driver wanted to reach
Murray Bay and return that day. We found a
nice breakfast awaiting us, and our guns, snow-
shoes and packs all ready in the cariole. I
thought to myself he may be inquisitive, but he
knows what travelling is. As soon as we were
ready to start I asked him for our bill. ''My
dear friend,*' he answered, ''I have something to
tell you. Twenty-six years ago I was down on
the North Shore in connection with a wrecked ves-
sel. Being a perfect stranger there, your father
very kindly put me up for a couple of days.
When I came to settle with him, he answered that
he did not keep a boarding house. Well, to-day,
I don't keep one for his son!" Pressing my hand
he bade us ban voyage. This was gratitude of a
kind that does a fellow's heart good!
At Murray Bay we met with a warm reception
from the Mayor, Mr. Kane, Messrs. Angers,
Cimon, P. and Elie Mattais and other citizens.
While there we were the guests of Mr. Elie Mat-
tais. These good people would not allow us to
hire any vehicles, but carioles to drive us down
to Ste. Catherine's Bay were placed at our dis-
posal by the gentlemen above named. I shall al-
ways remember with pleasure the day we spent
there.
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 267
Captain Zic Gagne was my driver and he owned
a splendid black horse which he handled like his
schoojier, bnt with this difference: thatasheconld
not take any reefs in the horse, he upset me twice
on the way by carrying too much sail ! He was a
furious driver and I felt easier when we were
over the seven hills of Port au Persil. Here we
were the guests of Captain Wm. McClaren, an
old acquaintance of mine, and for many years in
charge of Judge (now Sir Elzear) Taschereau's
yacht.
We made an early start, and as the roads were
too bad for fast. driving, we had no more upsets,
and reached Ste. Catharine's at half-past two
p.m., where I had the good luck to meet a friend
and confrere, Mr. Gabriel Boulianne, a noted
porpoise and seal hunter. Mrs. Boulianne had a
good lunch ready for us and shortly afterwards
the weather and tide being favorable, Mr. B. fer-
ried us over to Tadousac in his canoe.
Like many others of his calling, Mr. Boulianne
has had many narrow escapes while chasing por-
poises and seals. On one occasion he and his eld-
est brother were upset in their canoe by a wound-
ed porpoise. His brother was drowned, and he
himself rescued in an exhausted condition. An-
other time, having spent the night out in the open
after porpoises without any luck, he decided, just
as they were coming in witii the rising tide, to try
the reefs for seals. Getting out on a flat stone, he
258 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
told his young brother to go further in and hide
behind the reef, while he endeavored to decoy
some seals and secure a shot. The little chap did
as directed and got alongside of a boulder further
in shore. The poor boy was tired after his night's
work, and as it was calm and warm, he dropped
asleep in the canoe. The strong incoming tide
swept the canoe in towards land. Some time
later, when his brother had got a shot and killed a
seal, he looked around for the canoe, but was dis-
mayed to see it nearly a mile away. He shouted
and fired his gun, but the boy slept on. By this
time the rock was covered and the water creeping
up on him. There was to much water for him to
get off the rock and he could not swim a stroke.
He shouted till he was hoarse. The rising wind
aggravated for a time his position, but eventually
proved his salvation. A schooner that was about
four miles away, gradually approached him be-
fore the wind, and those on board, hearing his
cries and seeing his position, sent their boat out
and rescued him. By this time the water had
risen above his waist, and it was only by using his
gun as a prop that he had been able to hold on to
his position. Long before this the boy had wak-
ened and rowed desperately against the wind and
tide, but it would have been a full half hour later
before he could have reached his brother.
We put up at the hotel of Mr. Boulianne — a
distant relative of our friend's and arranged with
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 269
him for a herlot to drive us to Escoumains, for
twelve dollars, our night's lodging and board in-
cluded. This was the heaviest day's expense in-
curred on our whole trip, amounting to fiften dol-
lars. I had a letter of introduction from Mr. T.
J. Lamontagne to his Manager, Mr. John Top-
ping, at Escoumains Mills. As he was rather
short-handed at the moment, he could not send
anyone to drive us down, but he supplied us with
a horse and sleigh which we were to leave at Mille
Vaches, the next parish, 15 miles east. From
Escoumains to Mille Vaches the roads were dread-
ful and our progress so slow that we frequently
walked for a change. It was noon before we
reached there.
At Mrs. J. A. Pinze's, where we had been told
to leave the horse, we were given a hearty recep-
tion and excellent dinner. As we intended push-
ing on further, she kindly supplied us with a
fresh horse on the same terms, that is to say, that
we were to leave it at Sault au Cochon Mills, 18
miles further on. Thanking her for her kindness
we left, expecting to reach the latter place that
night. This was not to be. The wind which
had been from the east all day, began to increase
and developed into a regular blizzard. Luckily
I had travelled down that coast some years pre-
viously and had no trouble in finding our way,
but it was slow work in the heavy snow drifts. It
was dusk when we pulled up at Mr. D. Trem-
260 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
Way's, the lighthouse keeper of Portneuf , who re-
oeived us in a most hospitable manner. Over
eighteen inches of snow fell during the night.
Towards morning the wind moderated and I
had decided to start on snowshoes, but Mr. Trem-
Way thought we had better take the horse to Sault
au Cochon, which was and is still the terminus of
the road on this coast. We left at about 8 a.m.
Where there were obstructions near the road the
snow had piled in immense drifts through which
the poor horse floundered two or three times. I
felt like taking him back, but, however, as this
meant considerable delay, we kept on. On the
first hill east of Portneuf river there was no ap-
pearance of any track and we had to unharness
the poor brute and break a slight road before we
could get him up with the sleigh. Once on top of
the hill we had no more drifts, as the road ran
through the woods. With only our packs and
guns in the sleigh we let the horse break the road,
following ourselves, on our snowshoes.
It was just noon when we reached Sault au
Cochon, having taken over four hours to make
nine miles. Here we left our rig. Mr. W. For-
rest, the Manager of the lumber mills, invited us
to lunch with him and stay overnight. We ac-
cepted only the first part of his invitation, as we
wished to try and reach Bersimis the next day.
Our objective point that night was a lumber camp
on the Laval River which I knew of, five or six
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 261
miles further on, which we reached early. The
ijoan ia charge of the camp, a Mr. Tremblay, lived
there with his family. They were all very oblig-
ing and did all they could to make us comfortable.
There were a lot of spare bunks, which he told us
we were welcome to use. There was an immense
box* stove, which the poor fellow, thinking we
might be cold, kept filling up with wood all night.
It was awfully hot at times.
We got up very early, as we had a long and
hard tramp before us, about twenty-nine miles of
heavy walking, and we just managed to make it,
arriving at Bersimis after dark. On the Bersi-
mis river we met Mr. P. C. Dupuis, the Manager
of the Bersimis Lumber Company, who had come
to meet us with his horse and sleigh and drove
us to his house, where we were well taken care of
by Mrs. D. The effect of the soft walking told
on the eldest Labrie (Alfred) , and the next morn-
ing he was laid up with a swollen knee, so we
were forced to stay one day more at Bersimis. In
the afternoon, Mr. Dupuis drove us over to the
Indian Mission, where we were the guests of the
Revd. Fathers Arnaud and Babel, the first of
whom is not only a D.D., but an M.D. as well.
He doctored Alfred's knee so well that the next
day most of the swelling was gone.
As the ice was set inshore for some distance,
the Revd. Fathers and Mr. Dupuis insisted on
driving us down about four miles over it, which
262 OUR RETURN JOURNEY
helped us very much, leaving us twenty-three
miles from Manicouagan. Shortly after noon we
were at Point des Outardes and had a short rest
and a cup of tea with Mr. J. B. Boss, who has a
good old Scotch name, but is unable to speak a
word of English. He was very desirous that we
should remain there till morning and prophesied
bad weather. This was just what I expected
myself and what made me anxious to go as far
as possible that night. We had twelve miles to go
to the nearest settlement, which was the Govern-
ment Telegraph Station at Point Manicouagan.
Our friend's prophecy soon came through. About
3 p.m. a gale of S.-E. wind and snow set in.
Beyond the discomfort, we did not mind this
much, as I was travelling over very familiar
ground and reached the station shortly after
dark, in the midst of a blinding snowstorm.
Going over the winter portage, there remained
jBfty-three miles more to cover in order to reach
home, and this we had expected to make in two
days. But this gale upset our calculations. As
there were no settlements before we reached God-
bout, we had to carry provisions for at least four
days, in case of delay or accident. Mr. Pelletier,
agent at Point Manicouagan, was very obliging
and gave us a comfortable room, and we enjoyed
a good night's rest. Next morning my wife ad-
vised me by wire that most of the able-bodied
men of the vicinity were to start out and break
Mission House, Beriimis Indian Reserve
English Bay River, Manicouagpui
OUR RETURN JOURNEY 263
the road for fifteen miles, up to a trapper's camp
which they would have ready for us, and that
they would take provisions with them. This was
good news, so we only bought enough food for two
days and started. Owing to the very soft snow
we only covered about twenty miles. We had also
to stop early to have time to prepare for the night,
which was in the usual camping style already des-
cribed in a previous chapter. The next day we
met our friends and relatives, and thenceforward
it was easy travelling. We were relieved of our
packs and guns and travelled light. We slept at
the trappers' camp and were off at daybreak, over
a well beaten trail, arriving home at noon. Long
before we got there we met, one after another,
some friend or acquaintance coming to meet us.
Some had walked over twenty miles, the goodness
of which much affected us.
Our reception on reaching home, I leave to the
imagination of the reader. There were no firing
of big guns and no fireworks that night. But
the welcome was none the less warm.
Our whole trip occupied thirty-two days, dur-
ing which we met with a great deal of kindness
and sympathy and I tender my thanks again to
day to all who helped us in any way, no matter
however little it may have appeared to them,
under what were to us such trying circumstances.
I»||0tttter jKabe jReabtng
^Tmong the many superstitious beliefs and
X% practices of our Montagnais Indians, I
think that what is known as "'Shoulder Blade
Reading" is one of the least known and most cur-
ious. It is seldom practised in the presence of a
* 'white brother'* imless the latter is held in very
high esteem or has lived among them. I suppose
this is due to the fear that the secret may be re-
vealed, to their prejudice. In the Montagnais
dialect the custom is known as ''outlickan mes-
kina/' the literal translation of which is **shoul-
der blade track. *'
The bones of various animals are used for this
purpose, but the favorite, the most truthful, and
most far-seeing, in their belief, is that of the
caribou. As soon as .the animal is cut up, the
shoulder blade is removed by cutting at the first
joint. The meat is then cut away with a sharp
knife as close to the bone as possible and the latter
is boiled for a few minutes, just sufficiently to al-
low of all the meat being wiped off. It is then
hung up in the wigwam to dry, and in the even-
ing after the children are asleep, the bone is read
in the following manner :
A small piece of wood is partially split, and in-
SHOtLDER BLADE READING 2ft5
to the end of this the joint end of the ''blade'' is
inserted to form a handle. It is then held o¥6r
red' hot coals for a few seconds. The intense heat
causes the bone to crack in various directions, ac-
cording, of course, to the amount of heat to which
the different parts are subjected. As this ean
seldom or never be exactly alike, the reading var-
ies. A long straight crack from end to end means
death or starvation. A short zig-ieag one with-
out any branches means much trouble and hard-
ships. Cracks like the branches of a tree with
small roundish burnt spots on the edges indicate
plenty. When these spots are close to the stern
portion, it is a sign that the game they are seeking
is close at hand. If they are at the extremities
of the branches, the game is distant in proportion.
It is wonderful what an amount of reading some
of the experts can get out of these few cracks and
spots. *
The largest burnt spot always indicates the
camp. If the bone burns very brown before
* The illustration on the opposite page, from a photoipkph
of a bone actually used by an Indian hunter as above described,
shows what is considered a lucky burning. Fig. 1, is supposed to
represent the hunter and his wigwam — a large danc patch.
Fig. 2 is a trail, in which direction it would be useless to go, as
there are no markings to represent game. Figures 3. 3. show two
trails, both of which lead to game, as shown by the brown portion
between the two lines. Figures 4 and 5 indicate the tracks and direction
in which the game is to be found. The hunter who owned this bone
and read its signs, assured me that on his first day's hunt after the
reading, he found and shot four caribou in the direction indicated and
added that for miles around in eveiy other direction there was no other
game. The Indians' faith in this is unbounded.
266 SHOULDER BLADE READING
cracking, it means a long spell of bad weather,
and so on. This bone-burning is mostly prac-
tised to find out things pertaining to hunting,
although occasionally some of the **wise ones*'
pretend that it can foretell for them other events.
I used to take much interest in watching their
solemn faces while this reading was going on,
and certainly no gospel truth was ever more firmly
believed in than is this peculiar rite or practice.
gttcfc i^tiooting
(Although we have on our coast many kinds of
XX ducks as immigrants, residents, or strag-
glers * those that afiford the best sport or are most
sought after for food are the scooters, of which we
have three species, — ^the white wing, — the largest
— Oedemia fusca, the black, 0, americana, and the
surf, 0. perspicillata. They are very early mi-
grants, first appearing towards the end of March,
and remaining till December, when they go south.
A few scattered birds breed along the coast line,
but the majority go inland and further north. I
have seen some breeding on most of the large in-
land lakes and along the Labrador coast. They
congregate in immense flocks wherever any pro-
per food can be found, principally in the entran-
ces of large rivers. Their chief food is a species
of small black mussel — Mytilus — ^but they will
also eat small fish of various kinds, and herring
spawn. This last mentioned seems to be quite
a tit-bit, and when the ducks are feeding
on it a lot of shooting may be done before it drives
them away. About the middle of May they leave
the sea coast and fly inland at night in big flocks,
and very high in the air, appearing no bigger
than swallows. I believe that they do not breed
* See List of Birds at the end of the book.
268 DUCK SHOOTING
before their third yeax^ as very large numbers of
both males and females remain behind. These
we here call ''Moulters/' and they remain in the
Gulf and River St. Lavrrence all summer.
The fayorite Indian method of shooting scoot-
ers, is from a blind on a canoe, made either from
cotton, or of the branches of the Canada balsam.
In the latter case the bow of the canoe is first
covered with these thin branches, and bound over
strongly with twine. Two small saplings are
then cut, an inch or two in diameter and eight
feet long. One side is smoothed with an axe to
obtain a level surface. It is then placed on the
ground, and on this the fine branches are laid, the
tops extending on both sides, and the stems rest-
ing on the sapling. About two layers all along
are required. When this is finished the other
sapling is laid over the branches, and the two
lashed solidly together with twine. It forms a
flat blind of two feet and a half in width. A
thin wedge is then inserted in the middle between
the two saplings, to act as a short mast to hold
the blind in position, the sides of the blind rest-
ing on the gunwale of the canoe. A small aper-
ture is left in the most convenient place for ob-
servation only, the shooting being done over the
blind. Such a blind is useful for all kinds of
water fowl, and when conducted by a good and
experienced canoeman the shyest birds are de-
ceived. It can only be used in calm weather or
DUCK SHOOTING 2W
in very light winds. When not in use it is laid
flat in the canoe.
This mode of shooting, thongh very good for
securing game for the pot, is rather tame, and
both local sports and **city chaps,** as my friend
Bob McLimont and others are designated by the
natives, prefer flight shooting. In some few
places, where there are rocky points or small is-
lands, this can be done from the shore by sitting
on the rocks, but the usual and preferable way
is from a canoe. Some projecting point or a
sand pit near one is selected. Thirty yards from
shore a canoe is stationed; then another one,
eighty yards further out, and so on, till all the
canoes are in position; the more the better; but
three or four will suffice, if no others are avail-
able. The main thing is to have them posted in
the form of the letter ''C,'* with the arms open to
the direction from which most birds are known
to come. As they fly here mostly to the westward,
points facing east are the best. When a flock
comes along the first canoe outside is the most
conspicuous, and the birds deviate towards the
land, where they get inside the ''C/* and then
have to fly somewhere over the canoes. Sometimes
if very shy, or in calm weather, they will at-
tempt to turn out of the C, with the result that
every canoe gets a shot at them. I have seen
small bimches completely wiped out in a round
like this. Firing into a bunch without selecting
270 DUCK SHOOTING
some particular bird is about useless, and it is a
mere fluke if one is brought down. It is surpris-
ing what a lot of space there is around them.
Early morning is generally the best time, but not
always so, as they are very much influenced by the
wind. South-west to westerly winds with haze
or fog are the most favorable. On such days bags
of fifty to sixty or even more were the rule in the
old days. Since the introduction of breech-load-
ers and pump-guns and the great increase of po-
pulation and traffic on the North Shore, the num-
bers have decreased or the birds have gone to
other localities.
Scooters are polygamous, and during the
mating season are easily decoyed by waving a
hat, black or grey, or any piece of cloth of that
size and color and imitating the call. Bunches of
ten or fifteen admirers chasing the same bird are
frequent, and their evolutions in the air at such
times are most extraordinary; rising, falling and
twisting about in every possible direction. If
the female is brought down by a shot all the other
birds will follow and light with her. I was out
one day with the late Mr. Nazaire Turcotte of
Quebec, and firing into such a bunch of about fif-
teen, he chanced to kill the female, when the whole
lot came down. ''Holy Ste. Anne,'* he exclaim-
ed, ''I never made such a lucky shot before!'' It
took. me a few minutes to persuade him that the
others were unhurt. About the end of July the
DUCK SHOOTING 271
moulters are unable to fly, and remain so for
about four weeks. Previous to this they accumu-
late to the number of tnany thousands together,
near some good feeding grounds and remain
there, unless driven off, till the first week in Sep-
tember, when they begin to fly again. When in
their half moulted condition the Indians — and
sometimes others, too — chase them for food, and
strange to say these strong diving birds are
then easily drowned. The time selected for such
a purpose is from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., when the
birds have finished feeding. They then huddle to-
gether in a big bunch and sit quietly on the wat-
er. Calm and foggy weather is the most suitable,
and it is noticed that they will drown much
quicker in proportion to the density of the fog.
Five or six canoes being ready they all start out,
keeping as close a line as possible. As soon as
the birds begin to show alarm and move out,
which they do at first by flapping the water, the
canoes are urged forward, gradually separating
more widely, and two canoes getting on the flanks,
the idea being to keep them in a mass as long as
practicable. The birds soon tire of flapping,
and the wings being almost featherless, their
progress is slow. Then they begin to dive and
disperse, if the canoes are not too close, or else
they turn around and dive back to get behind.
To add to their terror, the men begin to shoot,
at ducks if they can see them, though if none are
272 DUCK SHOOTING
near the shots are fired just the same. They are
probably so frightened by the sight of the canoes
so close to them and by the sound of the shots that
they dive down too deep, and are drowned before
they can return to the surface. Whatever may
be the cause, after three or four dives they bob
up in all directions, some quite dead, others part-
ly so. These last, if they have time to rest, re-
cover and get away, while others are picked up.
Three or four hundred are often captured in
one chase.
Scooters seem to be the only kind of duck that
can be drowned like this in wholesale quantities.
Little attention is paid by our Indians here to
the shooting of the black duck, anas obscura, or
kindred species. They seem to prefer seabirds,
possibly because they are much fatter and easier
to kill, or rather, more easily got at, for sea birds
will carry off more shot than fresh water ones
will. Their mode of shooting these water fowl
does not vary, and decoys, either artificial or alive,
are never used by the natives. Very few people
on the North Shore bother with decoys, relying
on their ability to imitate the calls of the birds
or lying in wait for them on their lines of flight,
which are along the coast line, either up or down.
In the winter season, eider ducks of two species,
Somateria, MoUissina and SpectahUis, and the
old squaws or long-tail, Harelda glacialis, and
the golden eye, Buccphala, two species, ClangtUa
DUCK SHOOTING 273
and Islandica are the chief birds that afford sport
or are sought after for food.
For golden eye and eider, blinds of ice are
built near their resorts, mostly at the end of some
point where the strong currents keep the water
free of ice. In this blind, all draped in
white, the hunter stations himself, and at the
first apperance of daylight the birds begin to come
in. If the shooter is there for sport he will take
them on the wing, but if food is the object he will
wait for a fot shot and get ten, fifteen, or more.
I have heard of fifty-two having been killed in a
single shot. Years ago I killed myself twenty-six
eider in one shot with a flint lock 24 bore. A can-
oe painted white is kept near at hand to retrieve
the dead birds and finish the cripples.
The long-tailed duck seldom keeps near shore^
seeking the open spaces of water among the ice,
and never stopping long in any one place. There
are immense flocks of them, so that at almost any
time of the day, there are some on the wing. Sit-
ting or flying they keep up an unceasing call.
They are the noisiest duck that I know of. They
are very fast birds on the wing and carry an aw-
ful lot of shot. If not killed stone dead, it is sel-
dom that they can be recovered. For winter
shooting, Indians and most of the residents use
double B Shot. It is the standard shot for almost
everything. For my part I prefer No. 4. Shoot-
274 DUCK SHOOTING
ing from canoes is about the only way to kill
long-tails. The canoe should always be painted
white and the shooter and steerer clothed in white
cotton overalls and bonnet, so as to blend with the
surroundings.
^eege i^ftoottng
^4^BXT to big game hunting, in my estimation,
S% there is no more fascinating sport than
geese shooting. The birds are much shyer and
more diflficult to approach than many kinds of
larger game. The uncertainty of the sport, which
has become proverbial, lends interest to it. We
have in the Province of Quebec several famous
resorts for geese, at most of which I have shot.
And it is noticeable that the methods pursued
vary with each locality. Next to a first-class gun
and good carefully loaded shells I find patience
more essential to success than anything else. I
have sat some days in a blind, or hid in the brush
for hours, without even getting a chance of a
shot, and the next tide or day, I have got fifteen
or twenty. The following is a list of the princi-
pal places r-eferred to above. The Big Romaine,
in Labrador, Victor and Nickerson's Bay, in the
Betchuan group; the Great Peninsula, Seven
Islands Bay, Manicouagan Shoals, Rimouski,
Green Island, Goose Rocks and Seal Reef, oppos-
ite r Islet, and St. Joachim, near Quebec.
At the three last named places, large flocks of
the wavy, or snow goose, are seen, but very few
seem to be killed. I never went to St. Joachim, but
276 GEESE SHOOTING
at Seal Beef and Goose Rocks the shooting is done
from blinds or mud holes, in which you have to
stay for hours waiting for the tide to drive the
birds in. When within range one shot is taken
sitting and another one as they rise, and this is
about all you will get in one tide. I hear since
I have shot there that live decoys are now used
with more success and a chance of some flying
shots. This last method is that practised at
Green Island, principally in the spring. Snow
and ice blinds are built at intervals along the
edge of the batture ice. Straw or hay, and some-
times an old blanket are laid down inside the
blind, which is circular like an Esquimau
hut. Outside, a few decoys, cut out of inch
boards, are stuck in the snow. Then nine or ten
live decoys are put out in a bunch twenty yards
away. Generally an old gander is tethered by one
leg near this bunch. At the appearance of any
wild birds against the sky, this old chap begins to
honk and thus lures them in, some actually settling
down on the ice if not fired at. Strong N. or
N.-E. winds are the most favorable. One has to
be in the blind before daylight and from that hour
to ten a.m. is the best time. With such con-
ditions I once got seventeen geese in one morning
in a blind that belonged to Charles Dion, a local
hunter. At Rimouski there are very few people
who devote any time to it, but the geese are there
in thousands, both in spring and in the fall of the
Young Sports who have been Goose Shooting.
Goose Shooting Camp at Great Peninsula.
GEESE SHOOTING 277
year. I am sure that with good management,
some fair bags could be secured there. I never
spent any time there, but killed an odd one in
passing.
On Manicouagan shoals and at Seven Islands,
geese are mostly shot from canoes or by hiding
near some point where the birds come up with the
tide; — ^what we call here po« shots. Shooting from
a canoe is much preferable and flying shots are
often obtained. The canoe is fitted up with
branches of the balsam or spruce sufficiently high
and thick to conceal both the steerer and the shoot-
er. When a flock of geese is sighted, the canoe is
quietly urged towards them by using the paddles
and keeping them always in the water. Advan-
tage is also taken of the wind, if any, to drift
down on them, but it must be a very light wind,
as if you approach too quickly, they get suspicious
and fly off. If very early in the spring and
ice is floating about, a cotton blind is the best.
Shooter or steerer should also be clothed in white
and the head especially should be well 6overed
with a cotton bonnet. I have drifted on geese in
this manner almost close enough to touch them
with the canoe. As the season advances and
trees and other rubbish come down the rivers with
the spring floods, branches are the best for blinds,
and late in the fall (September and October),
dead grass. At the other localities mentioned,
principally the Great Peninsula and the Romaine,
278 GEESE SHOOTING
all the shooting is on the wing. There are large
feeding grounds in the vicinity — immense flats
covered in places with goose grass. On the flats
they feed at low tides, gradually nearing shore as
the tide comes in. About half flood tide they be-
gin to rise and fly in towards some lakes and the
river. In one place they fly over a high rocky
promontory with a gap of half a mile wide in it.
Along this guns are stationed. Some mornings I
have seen fifteen or twenty hunters taking part in
the shoot and scarcely a flock passing by without
some one getting a crack at it. With possibly
the exception of loons, I do not believe there is
any other bird at which so much ammunition is
wasted, ninety per cent of the shots being fired
entirely out of range! A frequent error, when
birds are on the wing, is shooting from behind
them, the large size of the bird making it appear
slower and closer than it really is. The third
barrel often goes oflP then, bang, bang, d
always loaded with smokeless powder it brings
down no birds, but they claim it is some satisfac-
tion to let it go ! If the time of the tide suits, two
shooting spells can be had the same day, because
when the tide is about at half ebb, they will all
return to the flats again. If one is careful not
to molest them on the feeding ground, many days
of fine shooting can be obtained, but if shot at by
night or on the flats, they are soon driven away.
GEESE SHOOTING 279
For flight shooting I use double B and treble A
shot, and for fot shots Number 1 or 2, backed with
the best powder I can buy. As to the best size
of gun, this will depend on the fancy of the
shooter. I use an 8 or 10 bore, but have seen 28
guage used.
fl Xittle »toan »ftoot
3 HAVE shot three swans in my lifetime and
have had chances of killing others, but I
would not shoot any more of these fine birds unless
I were starving. Young and fat birds may be all
right, but old ones are not worth eating, and I
consider it a sin to kill a bird or anything els0
unless some use can be made of it.
It was in 1864 that I shot my first two swans,
and they were the first I had ever seen on this
coast or in a wild state anywhere. I was in-
land trapping with my brother on one of the tri-
butaries of the Pentecost River and we were about
seventy miles from the sea shore. It was towards
the end of September. During the previous day
and most of the night it had been blowing a strong
gale of south-westerly winds with hazy and some-
what warmer weather than is usual at that season.
We were getting our winter quarters ready and
preparing dead falls for otter and searching for
beaver. We had camped on the edge of a lake
about a couple of miles wide, which the gale of the
previous day had prevented us from crossing.
Early next morning we were oflp and went direct
to the outlet, where there was an otter slide over
an old beaver dam. The outlet itself was pro-
bably thirty feet wide, bordered by spruce and
A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT 281
balsam trees of mederate height. After a short
distance it widened out, forming a small lake,
bordered with patches of long grass and quite
shallow. From the dam one could see into this
small lake. On landing I got a glimpse of these
two white birds and mistook them for snow geese,
Anser Hyperbareus, of which we occasionally
killed a few, though they are never numerous
here. Squatting out quickly, I pushed the canoe
out, and we landed on the side where we could not
be seen. We each had a gun, my brother a flint
lock H. B. Co. gun, 24 bore, and I a double one of
the same guage and make, but a percussion cap
instead of flint. I arranged that my brother was to
make a detour through the woods and get to the
eastward of them below the small lake, where he
was to try and get a shot if possible, and if not
he was to show himself and make them rise, in
which case they would have to fly up the outlet
and pass over the dam where I was stationed. All
being ready he started off and some few minutes
later I heard him shoot. Glancing down the out-
let through the branches I saw the two birds com-
ing. They were flying very low and looked awful-
ly big, I thought. I soon recognized them, how-
ever, and got ready. On they came, rising rapid-
ly, till about opposite to me they were some
thirty feet in the air. What a spread 1 It looked
as big as a blanket. Aiming at the neck I brought
the first one down. The other was lagging a lit-
282 A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT
tie behind, and was bleeding. One pellet of
AAA shot from my brother's gun had struck him
in the breast. As he was passing over I knock-
ed him down also. Golly 1 What two fine birds!
I am sure they were about five feet long. We sat
there, my brother and I, over half an hour, turn-
ing them around and admiring them. When my
brother had gone around, he had no trouble in
approaching them as far as the edge of the tall
grass below. There he had fired at the two of
them in a line, at what he thought was about fifty
yards range — ^but it was actually over a hundred.
The birds were too heavy to carry around with
us, so we hung them up in the trees and decided
to do some work and come back to the lake that
evening and have a grand swan feast. On our re-
turn my brother set to work plucking one, while
I got camp ready and cut some wood. Shortly
afterwards, coming with a load, I found he had
given up his job. He said it was like pulling out
stakes, every feather held so hard. We had no
time to waste, so we ripped the swan open with a
knife and skinned it. Half of it was then cut and
placed on the spit. It was very lean. After it
appeared to have been well cooked we had our sup-
per. My goodness I English oak-tanned sole lea-
ther was tender compared to this. We got a lit-
tie down, with time, as we were pretty hungry,
but voted that cooking on the spit was not the
proper way for swan. In the evening we cut the
A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT 283
other half into pieces and set it to boil, to make a
sort of trappers' stew with flour and small pieces
of bacon or fat pork. After being on the boil
most of the night we found little difference in the
morning. That was our last attempt 1 Both birds
were in very poor condition. We threw away the
second one. I have read that swans live to a very
old age. These must have been bred in Jacques
Cartier's time. They were the ordinary tnunpe-
ter swan, Cygnus Buccinator.
^votat anH ^ttier ^anb jBtrte
\±iJ|E are supposed to have four kinds of grouse
fd^ on the North Shore of the St. Lawrence;
the ruflPed grouse or birch partridge — Bonasa
umheUus (Mr. Hammond's friend) — ^the willow
ptarmigan, Lagapus Albu9 — ^the rock ptarmigan,
L. rupestris — ^and the white-tailed ptarmigan,
L. leucurus.
The rock ptarmigan is hardly worth mention-
ing, either for sport or food, for it is too rare and
too seldom found near the coast. I have killed
them inland, and on the barren mountains of the
Labrador. In July and August, 1907, I found
several coveys of young birds on the higher
ranges east and west of the Washecootai Biver.
Of the white-tailed species I have only killed
one specimen (Dec. 7, '94)), and even of that one
I am not quite sure, as it possibly may have been
an albino of the willow ptarmigan. It was a
smaller bird than the ordinary ptarmigan.
The ruffed grouse may be classed as common,
being found all over the coast as far north as the
Mingan Islands. I have not seen nor shot any
specimens further north than that. In some years
they are abundant for a time, and then disap-
pear. I have noticed that heavy sleet in winter
will sometimes drive them away from certain
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 285
tracts of country. Since 1905 they have been
pretty scarce all over the country. I think this
must be due to some kind of contagious disease,
something similar, probably, to the * 'grouse dis-
ease'' of Scotland. There is no other way of ex-
plaining their scarcity over such an immense
extent of territory. Where the country is opened
up, and there are only patches of wood here and
there, it would be reasonable to suppose that they
might have been exterminated by over shooting
and snaring, but where there are thousands of
miles of forests, and not one in a hundred shot
over, it canot be put down to excessive shooting.
As to natural enemies thejj do not seem to have
been any more numerous here than anywhere else.
Last season (1908), I was over six weeks in the
wood with two of my boys, and we only saw six.
From various points throughout the country, both
inland and along the coast I receive the same re-
ports, — ^no grouse.
Ruffed grouse shooting in this section is not
sport, and is not regarded as such by the resi-
dents, for the reason that neither the people nor
the birds have been educated to it. I can count
on less than the fingers of one hand all the men I
know on this shore that will deliberately flush a
grouse to shoot it on the wing. As for the birds
themselves, unless they happen to be in an open
spot, they will not fly any distance. In the
woods, which are pretty dense here, when flushed
286 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
they simply rise off the ground, perching in the
nearest tree and stretching their necks to see you
walking under them. If it happens that a covey
is started, they will frequently be all killed with-
out any of the others around taking flight. Many
a time when in the woods trapping, we would not
waste a shot on them, but simply go to work and
cut down a small sapling, tie a noose or string
at one end, slip it over their head and pull them
off the branch. At other times for amusement we
would go out with a bow and blunt-headed arrow
and whack them off the trees at twenty feet
range, which is about the usual one that they are
shot at here.
What a contrast to the educated ones! Some
years ago I received an invitation from Mr. C.
Beatty, of Plattsburg, Lake Champlain, to go and
have a few days of mixed shooting with him. It
was late in September, but most ot the leaves were
still on the trees. The first day we had a grand
duck shoot on Missisquoi Bay and after that an
outing for woodcock. The last day had been re-
served for partridge and grey squirrels. We had
breakfast at daylight and were off. We had not
far to go to reach our ground, — patches of hard-
wood trees, with a good deal of underbrush. We
soon heard some, whirring off at our approach, but
could not even get a glimpse of them. After a
time I got a crossing shot at one over fifty yards
away, which I bagged, and that was the only
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 287
bird W3 got. But we surely heard a dozen or
more rising. I was simply astonished that such
a bird could be so shy. When I came back here
and told the natives about my experience, they
thought I was pulling the long bow. I believe it
will take many years before our birds get so high
ly educated.
I have shot since that time in the vicinity of
Three Rivers and at St. Raymond, near Quebec,
and although the birds are considerably shot at
and treed with dogs, I found them just about as
tame as here. During the close season I heard
that lots were snared in the way I have described,
and also by setting snares on the ground, the
absence of any noise making it difficult to detect
the poachers. Half grown birds were also killed
and eagerly bought up by the leading hotels,
where they would appear on the bill of fare as
imported quail or something similar.
Of all the above species the willow ptarmigan
is by far the most abundant, and of considerable
value as au article of food during its years of
passage. It is an irregular migrant, in this wise,
that it does not come regularly every season, like
most other birds, and sometimes we may be three
or four years without seeing any. I have gath-
ered considerable data on this subject and I find
that about every tenth year is one of great abun-
dance. Here are some of the dates :
1863 and 1864 — Extremely abundant.
288 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
1867 — ^Disappeared this year.
1871 — A few were seen this year, but none be-
tween 1867 and 1871.
1872 and 1873 — ^Very numerous again and total
disappearance in 1876.
1882— A few observed.
1883 and 1884, and 1885— Great abundance.
1887 — ^Disappeared entirely.
1891 — ^A few seen, gradually increasing each year
till 1895, when there were considerable quanti-
ties.
1897— None.
1903 and 1904 — ^Abundant, and a few seen every
winter since to date (1909).
At one time it was supposed that these years of
abundance on the coast were due to heavy sleet in
the interior, covering up all the buds and prevent-
ing the birds from feeding, and thus forcing them
to seek food elsewhere. I have noticed that this
will affect them to some slight extent, but the
dates given show too much regularity for this to be
the true cause. My belief is that it is due to the
food supply. Having examined thousands of the
crops of these birds I found that over ninety per
cent contained the buds of a species of willow
popularly known here as fussy wiUow, Saliw
artica ? The balance were buds of the birch, pop-
lar and the mountain ash and its berry. I also
noticed a few seeds that I could not identify.
After a year or two of great abundance, aU
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
288
%
I
I
a
I
■a
9
?
g-
i
Ik
i\
TT -^
290 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
the willows are destroyed by the breaking of the
tips and the buds, and the shrub takes about two
years to recover, which is generally by fresh
sprouts from the root. As the food fails the birds
have to move elsewhere. It would, therefore, ap-
pear from my data that it takes about ten years to
go round their circle of migration. I say circle
because their line of flight seems to indicate this.
They first appear on the Labrador coast line fly-
ing south and continue so till they reach our large
rivers like the Manicouagan, Bersimis and the
Saguenay, seldom going west of this last. These
large rivers are followed up in a west and north-
westerly direction, the birds scattering inland
over a tract that includes the Lake St. John and
Lake Mistassini region, then down to the shores
of Hudson's Bay, where Dr. Milne and Mr. Peter
McKenzie told me they flew north all along the
coast line to Ungava, then south again to the Lab-
rador, and so on. The range of the flight on this
side of Hudson's Bay would cover about ten de-
grees of latitude and in round figures form a cir-
cle around this big peninsula, of about two thou-
sand miles. As this immense body of ptarmigan
moves on during a season of abundance, stragglers
are left behind, which breed, giving another and
lesser batch to migrate the second year, when
fewer stragglers are left, till the third or fourth
season, when no more are seen for a time. Their
total absence varies from four to six years. They
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 291
seldom or never breed in the lowlands, always
seeming to prefer high and bare mountainous sec-
tions. In June, 1893, 1 saw a pair several times.
They probably had their nest within a mile of our
house (Godbout). The earliest appearance of
any large migration was October 29, 1872, but as
a rule it begins here from the 15th of November to
December.
The regular flight along the sea shore lasts
about four to six weeks. After that the birds
seem to scatter inland and feed. When on the
move they fly very early in the morning, sometimes
so early that it is impossible to distinguish them
unless there happens to be some dark backgroimd.
The morning flight, when abundant, will last an
hour or two. The size of the flocks vary in or-
dinary seasons from ten to fifteen or twenty.
In years of great abundance, flocks of a hundred
or more are common. On the 14th of November,
1885, I saw at Trinity Bay, six miles east of
Pointe des Monts, one flock which contained many
thousands. It was a continuous mass of birds
over half a mile long and from sixty to a hundred
yards wide. I had never seen anything ap-
proaching this before, nor have I since. When in
large flocks they are, as a rule, shy, especially if
the weather is very cold or windy, and will rise
long before one gets within ordinary range. On
the wing, however, they do not seem to mind any-
thing in their way, flying over and around one
292 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
without apparently noticing him. They are very
strong on the wing, not any faster than the ruffed
grouse, but capable of sustaining much longer
flights, occasionally going five to six miles with-
out resting.
In small bunches and in snowy and mild wea-
ther they are quite tame, and when feeding in
the thick willow bottoms it is hard work to get
them to rise out of them. After feeding they
congregate around some clump of willow, and
scratching a small hollow in the snow, will lie per-
fectly still for hours, the top of the head just level
with the snow, the black eye and beak alone be-
traying their presence. The popular idea of
their diving in the snow to escape pursuit is
most ridiculous. At night they will occasionally
burrow in the snow, but only during high winds or
very cold weather, the usual way of resting being
the small hollow mentioned. Another rather re-
markable thing in connection with ptarmigan is
the apparent disproportion of the sexes. Out of
the many thousands that I have killed and exam-
ined, only about twenty-five per cent were males.
In winter they prefer low valleys and the borders
of rivers and lakes and dense willow patches, but
as the season advances they seek the higher
ranges, choosing those that face the midday sim.
When flying over water, as they often do in cross-
ing bays or large rivers, they keep very near the
surface, just about a foot or so above it. Over
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 293
land the reverse is the case, for sometimes they
rise high over the tops of the tallest trees. The
most remarkable thing about them, however, is
their seasonal change of plumage. In 1885 I
had the pleasure of attending the meetings of the
American Ornithologists Union, in New York.
At one of the meetings a very interesting paper
was read by Dr. Stegneger on this subject. The
Doctor exhibited two specimens which came from
Newfoundland and which, in his opinion, were a
sub-species confined to the island. This distinc-
tion was based particularly on the coloration of
the primaries. The birds shown had nearly all
the tips of the primaries black. Since my return
I have taken special pains to examine a great
number of birds. On those killed prior to 15th
November, I found the same coloration, more or
less, as on the species shown, but after that date
there was a gradual whitening of the primaries
and in many cases only the shafts were white.
During the last two migrations, taking the
best years ^ 1895 and 1904, I took some trouble to
try and find out approximately how many birds
were killed between certain points. During the
first year mentioned, between Mingan and God-
bout (175) one hundred and seventy-five miles of
coast, thirty thousand were killed. In the second
(1904) fourteen thousand, but I am sure that
during 1885 nearly sixty thousand must have
been shot or snared. When a flight begins, every
294 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS
man, women and boy able to handle a gun is out.
To avoid accidents, which are very rare, indeed,
each gun occupies a certain point or station and
shoots at all the birds that pass or light in his vic-
inity. The ladies keep watch for those that may
light near the houses. The bags vary, of course,
according to the skill of the shooter and his meth-
od of shooting. If he is there for business he will
take all the fot shots. He can frequently get five
or six in one shot. I have seen fourteen killed in
a single shot. A few will only shoot on the wing,
but there are many days when the wing shooter
comes out ahead. The biggest bag I ever made (it
was in 1885) shooting at flying birds, was eighty-
two brace in one morning. At Caribou Islands
that winter, nets were tried, but they were not
very successful, more being got by shooting. In-
dians frequently snare them by setting their
snares around willow clumps where the birds feed.
It is a very simple arrangement. A twig is stuck
in the snow, a twine snare is tied to it, a very light
support placed under it to hold it in position and
it is ready. In walking around, the bird runs in-
to it, then tries to rise on feeling the snare, only
to tighten the noose. There is a little fluttering
and it is all over.
Like the poor Northern hare they have many
enemies, chief among which are the falcons and
owls, both horned and snowy, lynx, foxes, etc.
We have no other winter birds worth mention-
GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 296
ing as aflfording any sport, but during the spring
and fall migrations, we have curlews and plovers
of various kinds and snipe in some localities.
Little shore birds and sand larks of several
species are common, clouds of them at times where
the sand bars are of any length, such as Portneuf ,
Bersimis and Manicouagan shoals. Dozens are
killed in a single shot. Few or any of the natives
shoot snipe, considering them too small to
waste a shot on, and as it frequently happens that
not only one shot, but many, are fired to hit one,
they believe there is no money in that species of
game and leave them for the *'city chaps.'' Very
considerate on their part!
The best time for shore birds and waders is
from the opening of the season on Sept. 1st to the
15th of October. During that period, near the
entrance of any of our large rivers, on the sand
flats or mud banks of the deep bays, good sport'
can be had.
l»ome Cagp Waysi of ^getting gtrbg
^N reading the narrative of Hubbard^s expe-
33 dition in Labrador, "The Lure of the
Labrador Wild/* by his companion, Dillon Wal-
lace, I noticed that apparently all its spare time
in seeking for food was devoted to fishing.
Little or no effort seems to have been made to
snare or trap game. Snares are very easily and
quickly set and game such as hares and grouse
secured which would otherwise possibly never be
seen. Steel traps will also help in procuring
food that otherwise could not be killed, and a
couple of light ones, of the kind known as jump-
ing traps, will more than repay the trouble of
carrying them. For all round use, the No. 2 or
mink trap is the best. Two of these with chains
will weigh about a pound and a quarter. Many
large birds of the owl and hawk species can be
secured by placing such a trap on the end of a
pole, on any elevated ground. Although appar-
ently there are no birds visible during the day, it
is extraordinary what a couple of well set traps
will secure. I know of a hunter who caught in
one winter over a hundred snowy owls, and lots
of grey and long-eared ones; besides, gyr-falcons
and duck hawks, whisky jacks, etc. The total
weight in meat caught in his four or five traps
SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS
207
must have been nearly a thousand pounds. As
most of these birds are very shy I am quite sure
that a dozen good guns could not have secured half
that quantity. I think such traps would be spe-
cially useful to parties going on exploring trips
in northern countries. Prominent points of land
along a coast line or on lakes should be selected to
set the trap on. Where there are no trees at all.
the pole or stake need not be more thaji three or
four feet high. In a case of need, aquatic birds,
such as geese and black ducks, are easily trapped
by placing the traps on their feeding grounds or
where they congregate on the shore to sun them-
selves. Gulls also can be trapped by using a bait
and setting traps near it, or tying the bait
on the pan. These birds are often caught
by cod fishermen and Indians, by baiting
the small hooks with some fat substance that
will float. Cod livers are mostly used, but
any other fat will do. On sand banks small
fish or mussels, in fact anything edible, wiU
answer. Most of the latter kind of birds are not
considered worth eating, being classed as oily
and fishy. Such little fancies as these do not
stand much in the way of a hungry stomach. To
persons not reduced to such straits, but desirous
of having a little game for a change, I would ad-
vise as follows: Clean the birds (removing intes-
tines) as soon as possible after killing; then hang
by the legs for from a few hours to two or three
298 SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS
days in a cool place in wann weather, but not
longer unless you can freeze them. When wanted
for the table, remove the skin and all fatty pieces
and then stew them. There is another way of
cooking them which I think is preferable, but it
is wasteful. After skinning as above, take a
knife and remove the breasts only, cutting along
the bone to the wing, but do not leave any bones on.
This will form two nice little pieces of meat.
Cook in a frying pan like a steak, using a very
small piece of butter, pepper and salt. You will
be surprised to see how palatable this is, and few
people, unless they know befwehand, will be
able to say whether they are eating fresh or salt
water birds.
Sea ducks should n^ver be roasted in a pan or
oven, as this brings out the oily taste. Murres,
(lomvia troile) which migrate along the St. Law-
rence in myriads, in some years, — occasionally
getting as far west as the Great Lakes, and are
killed in thousands during these migrations, are
mostly thrown away, being considered unfit for
food. If they were cooked in the way last des-
cribed, few would throw them away after having
once tasted them.
I have occasionally been asked why the Can-
^^ jay (perisoreus Canadensis), is called whisky
jack. It is a corruption of the Indian name for
this bird. Uiske-stian, in Montagnais dialect,
means * 'fat-eater,*' or ''one who hides fat*'— a
SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS 290
yery appropriate name, because the first thing
it will do upon finding any fat is to conceal it.
If the carcass of an animal is hung anywhere in
the forest and there are any jays around, all the
fat will soon be picked off.
of S^it Cbmttnb jleab
^N 1859, while we were at Mingan, Sir Ed-
/<l mund Head came down to fish that river for
sahnon. My father, who was the Hudson Bay
Company's agent there, had received orders to
make all the necessary preparations for his recep-
tion and transport to the fishing grounds near the
falls. With this object in view, a lot of Indians
and canoes had been hired to carry all the bag-
gage, Ac. over a short portage behind the post
to the river and then up the stream. These men
were under the guidance of a very smart and ac-
tive fellow named Sam Meshkina *'The Track-
er.'' He was about forty-five years old, a
splendid hunter and trapper, and could boast of
speaking fairly good English. It was principally
for this accomplishment that he had been selected
as the leader.
Sir Edmund was greatly pleased to see how
quickly everything had been attended to by Sam,
and in the evening, after dinner, the latter was
invited to the Governor-Generars tent, where he
was thanked for the able manner in which he had
acquitted himself of his work. As Sam was not
at all shy, he was asked many questions about
the Indian mode of life, and especially about bea-
AN INDIAN'S OPINION Ac. 301
ver trapping, of which he gave a good account,
and which appeared to interest Sir Edmund very
much.
The next day my father heard of this from
some one of the party, and meeting Sam, said:
**I hear that you have been greatly honored by
the Governor and been invited to his tent?**
^Tes/*
**That was very nice on his part, and what do
you think of him?**
In a quiet and pitying tone, Sam answered:
**Please don*t mention this to anyone; but the
poor fellow don*t even know how to catch bea-
ver.
Another story, though not quite such a good
one, shows the Indian's idea of what a Governor-
General is.
In June, 1873, Lord Dufferin and the Countess
were the guests for a few days of the Lairds of
Godbout. As the sleeping accommodation was
rather limited at the fishing camp. Lord Dufferin
and the Countess returned every evening, after
their fishing was over, to their steamer, the D.
G. S. Druid, which was at anchor in Godbout
Bay. I had been detailed by Mr. Allan Gilmour
to attend to this part of the programme, and in
the morning went to receive them at the landing
in the Bay, and escort them to the river, a walk
of about a quarter of a mile, where suitable boats
and men were ready to take them up to ''the
pools.**
302 AN INDIAN'S OPINION Ac.
Just about this same time there was a half-
breed Indian named David Picard, — a distant
relative of the Picards of Lorette — ^who had gone
out with a surveying party some time before,
and had been paid by them with a cheque, which
was as good as gold. Picard had tried to change
it, but as no one whom he had asked, had the
necessary cash, they had refused, and he there-
fore suspected that this was because the cheque
was no good. Like everyone else in the place, he
knew of the arrival of the Governor-General and
thought this was his chance. On the second morn-
ing, as we were walking up to the river, we saw
Picard coming with the evident intention of in-
tercepting us. When Lord Dufferin felt quite
sure of this he stopped. '^Bonjour,** says David.
Lord Dufferin returned his salute. **Conte done,
c'est toi gouvernair* — ^said David in bad French;
equivalent to — **Look here, are you the rudder** ?
In the Montagnais language. Governor is **tequi-
gan,** the literal translation of which in French
is gouvemaily rudder.
Lord Dufferin looked puzzled and asked me
what he wanted.
I said, **He wants to know if you are the Gov-
ernor-General.**
Politely raising his cap, the Governor- General
said, ''1 have that honor.**
*'Well, look here,** said Picard, ''1 have been
employed on some of your work and been paid
AN INDIAN'S OPINION &c. 303
with a piece of paper that is no good, so now
that you are here yourself I want my money/'
and fumbling in his pockets, he drew out his
crumpled cheque and handed it to Lord Duf-
ferin, who examined it carefully, and asked me
if I knew anything of this. I told him it was
all right.
'*Mr. Picard,** said he, in good French, *'this
is all correct. If you come on board the stea-
mer to-night we will pay you, but I want you to
remember that any cheque for my work is good,*'
and smilingly he wished him ''honjour.'' He
was very much amused at this incident.
Picard felt so much relieved with the Gover-
nor's assurance that he did not go on board for his
money, and was paid all right later on for his
cheque.
ir HAVE made mention in my bird list at the end
;fl of this book, of the boldness of this bird. In
my opinion, not .ven the eagle can approach it
on that score. It is a well known f ax5t tha.t to
owl will attack and kill porcupines, a feat that
few animals will attempt. I once had a dog, a
cocker spaniel, killed by one of them. It was m
November, and there were only a few inches of
snow on the ground. We had the dog with us
for partridge shooting. We were at one of our
permanent log camps. As camp stoves were not
in use in those days we built open fire places and
left a good sized aperture in the roof of our camps
for the smoke to escape. When the fire burned
brightly, it would shed considerable light on the
surrounding trees. This frequently attracted
owls of various kind, and it was no unusual thing
to shoot them from the door of our camp. On the
night in question, it was very dark and mild,
and as we had been baking bread, it was very hot
inside our camp and we had left the door ajar.
Our dog was out poking around somewhere when
suddenly it gave a yell of pain. It had not bark-
ed previously, so I knew that no animal was the
cause I was just going to the door to find out
what was wrong, when the dog rushed in, with
THE GREAT HORNED OWL 305
the owl fastened to his back, and sought refuge
behind my brother. The latter threw his coat over
him and twisted the owl's neck. Both claws were
fastened in the back of the dog, causing injuries
from which he died two or three days later.
A great horned owl weighs between five and
seven pounds, according to its condition, and this
one had tackled an animal about six times its
weight.
One evening while we were living at Trinity
Bay, a great horned owl dashed through one of
the windows of our house and dropped on the
floor, having injured one of its wings on the shat-
tered glass. The size of the pane was 16 x 14.
I chanced to be sitting in front of the stove, and
grasping the poker, I smashed its head with it.
It had apparently tried to pounce on my sister's
head, as she was sitting only a few feet from the
window, the reflection from the lamp on her shin-
ing flaxen hair having no doubt attracted it.
I know of two similar occurrences of the
smashing of windows by this bird since I have
been here. One of our Godbout Indians, ''Old
Michel,'* was badly lacerated on the head by one
of these owls. The old man, who was a French
half-breed, had a fine head of grizzled curly hair.
Going out of his camp bareheaded one evening,
the bird pounced on him, its sharp claws pen-
trating the scalp. Immediately putting up his
hands, the old man grasped the bird by the legs
306 i , THE GREAT HORNED OWL
and tried to loosen its hold, but finding this very
painful, he entered the camp, and stooping near
the fire, with the aid of his son he put the owl in
the flames, which soon loosened its hold and
burned the bird to ashes. Ever afterwards,
when this old chap went out of his camp at night,
he used to put an old Hudson Bay Company's
copper kettle over his head I
Of the two cases referred to as attacking
human beings, one happened at our neighbour's
at Trinity Bay, and I saw the bird and the place
where it was killed. Mr. P. Bilodeau was out
chopping dry wood in a burned-over patch of
spruce near his house. It was about December,
and the day was cloudy and dark. While engag-
ed in collecting the cut pieces, he noticed a large
horned owl perched on a dry tree about twenty
feet from him. He had not seen or heard it com-
ing. Cutting a piece from the branch, he threw
it at the bird, not with any intention of killing
it, but for the fun of seeing it fly away. Very
much to his surprise the bird did not move. A
second stick followed, and then a third one, with
the same result, the bird simply watching the
sticks as they went by him.
The old fellow was illiterate, and crammed full
of superstitious beliefs of lowp garou and chctsse
gaieties, and concluded that one of these wan-
dering spirits was there under the form of an
owl. He devoutly crossed himself, and picking
THE GREAT HORNED OWL 807
up his axe, staxted for home, keeping an eye on
the bird as he went. He had not gone far before
the owl arose, took flight, and alighted upon a
tree a few yards ahead of him, watching his ap-
proach.
This was getting serious. The old man vowed
to pray for the lost soul, and hurried his steps.
As he passed under the tree where the owl was
sitting, it swooped down upon him. Bilodeau,
who had partly expected to be attacked by this
evil spirit, had his axe ready, and with a stroke
of its sharp edge, he cut it down, and leaving both
axe and bird there, ran home. He could never be
persuaded to use that axe again, it being stained
with the blood of the louf garou, which he had
delivered from bondage. The belief which he
shared wad that for some misdeed such souls are
condemned to wander under different forms until
delivered by a second death.
The old gentleman always dressed in the old-
fashioned style of grey homespun, eto^e du pays,
and wore that morning a cap made of muskrat
fur, which was probably the cause of the attack.
The second instance above referred to occurred
at Manicouagan, and I obtained the particulars
of it from the man himself who had been attack-
ed, a trapper named Thibeau. He said he was
letuming to his camp one evening just about dusk
wFth a red fox slung over his shoulders. It
was blowing a gale of east wind with snow, and
308 THE GREAT HORNED OWL
he was stooping forward, making his way through
the deep drifts, when without any warning he
received a blow in the back that nearly felled him.
Straightening up, he turned around to see the
cause. He was just in time to meet a second
attack from the owl, which he killed with his
hatchet.
During the spring time, which is mating sea-
son, these birds give regular concerts, at which I
have assisted a couple of times. There are gen-
erally four or five performers, and although the
music is rather monotonous, it is very interesting
to watch the birds, apparently vying with each
other in producing the loudest note. It seems to
require a considerable effort, because the bird
throws itself forward, stretching its neck and
partly spreading the wings and tail, as it emits
its peculiar hoot, **whoo-hoo-whoo-oou.** A min-
ute or two, and another responds, and this is
kept up for more than an hour if they remain un-
disturbed. When one is near the birds, the sound
does not seem very loud ; yet, in calm weather, it
can be heard at three or four miles' distance and
sometimes more. I shall sum up these owl yarns
with the narration of a trick I played upon my
brother Firmin. It was a common thing to shoot
owls at night, while they were perched on the
outhouses, fence posts and trees in the vicinity of
the house. Going outside our door one evening I
saw one of our cats crouching on the gable end
THE GREAT HORNED OWL 300
of the house. Opening the door, cautiously, I
said, **Quick, Firmin, your gun, a horned owl
on the roof/*
As he came out I told him to shoulder his gun
all ready and back out, and as soon as he saw the
head of the owl to shoot, which he did. We heard
the cat rolling down, and while he ran to pick it
up, I cleared out of the way, and had to do so for
sometime afterwards whenever /'cat'* was men-
tioned.
tgftrte #olben gagleg
€ARLT one morning I started out after wild
geese. On the previous day I had located
several large flocks, noticing where they came in
with the tide and rested on the sand banks
at high water, cleaning their feathers and sun-
ning themselves. On the previous evening, after
dark, I had built a blind by digging a hole in
the sand and lining it with dead grass and
branches, so that it would harmonize with the
surroundings. I had to be in my blind before day-
light so that the geese would not see me go to
it, and this meant a long wait of nearly four
hours for high tide. I had provided myself with
a heavy light grey blanket, which blended well
with the color of the sand, and also possessed the
advantage of being more quickly thrown off than
an overcoat could be. One feels rather encumbered
when shooting with a heavy overcoat on, which,
moreover, renders it extremely awkward for
shouldering the gun, unless it be one with a short-
ened stock. I wrapped myself in the blanket and
lay down in the hole, trying to get a few winks
of sleep to help the time pass more quickly There
were hundreds of geese feeding, and every now
and again I would hear the ''honk*' of some old
sentinel, a sort of '^all's well."
THREE GOLDEN EAGLES 311
I had been alternately dozing and watching for
three hours. The first ranks of the geese were
about one hundred yards from me and many more
were gradually coming in. I had two guns with
me, one a double barrelled ten bore, by Dougall,
a 'first class shooter, a handsome present to me
from the late Colonel Allan Gilmour of Ottawa.
My other was a single barrel 8 bore, made to or-
der, by Greener, of Birmingham, and specially
bored for large shot for seal and geese shooting.
This gun was christened by my friend, Mr.
Robert McLimont, as ''sure kill.** On such oc-
casions I would use old "sure kill'* first, reserv-
ing the ten bore to finish any cripples. I saw that
both were properly loaded and then lay back, de-
cided to wait half an hour more, By that time
the leaders would be about forty yards off.
I was still wrapped up in the blanket, making
myself as comfortable as the cramped position
would allow, and thinking about how many geese
I was likely to get, when, all at once, there was a
roar of wings and ''honks.** I jumped up, throw-
ing down the blanket and grasping "sure kill,**
but it was too late. The geese were nearly out of
range, and I refrained from shooting. I quickly
discovered the cause of my troubles. It was a
golden eagle, sailing around on the watch for a
crippled or sickly bird. I do not habitually use
profane language, but perhaps I said something
just then. In any case there was vengeance in
312 THREE GOLDEN EAGLES
my eye, and as the eagle came within range I
brought him down with the 8 bore, and reloading
ran out and picked him up. He was a handsome
bird, and I sat down in the blind, examining
his beautiful plumage and powerful talons.
Suddenly I heard a shrill cry overhead, and
looking up saw two other eagles come together in
the air, either fighting or mating. It was then
early in May.
Hastily raising the 8 bore again I fired, just
as they were separating, and both came down.
One was well hit and stone dead, and a stray pel-
let had broken the wing of the other. Three gol-
den eagles in about as many minutes was an am-
ple revenge for the loss of my shot at the geese I
I remained there a few days more, and being
troubled no more by eagles I got seventeen geese
and one pot shot of five with ''sure kill.*' The
measurements of the eagles were :
1st: spread of wings, 6 feet 11 inches.
2nd : spread 6i wings, 6 feet 7 inches.
3rd : spread of wings, 6 feet 9 inches.
The two last mentioned were those killed at one
shot. I had no means of weighing the birds. The
date was May 7th, 1896.
The golden eagle is not common on this coast,
but the bald headed Haliatus leucociphalus is.
Both of them are terrors to geese and black ducks.
On the water they do not seem to mind them, but
if sitting on the shore they will invariably rise if
Thiee Golden Eagles
Snaring Hares. — The Result.
THREE GOLDEN EAGLES 313
an eagle comes near. I never saw them attack aa
nninjured and full grown goose or duck, but it
is quite possible that they kill many young birds.
They also kill many kinds of small mammals, and
the young of some of the larger species. They are
regular gluttons, and will gorge themselves till
they are unable to rise. I have killed three or
four with a stick, in that condition. One of them
had stowed away the whole of a twelve pound sal-
mon. They are very powerful on the wing, and
will lift and carry off a salmon of about ten
pounds. They feed largely on dead fish also,
picked up at low tide on the reefs and shoals. The
large green lump fish, cyclapterus lumpus, is a
favorite morsel. They are shy birds, but easily
caught in steel traps baited with fish. Both spe-
cies nest here and winter on the coast.
fl Sbf^m anb Cagp Wolt l^mt
^I^NE afternoon about the end of September,
KP^ 1885, I was sitting in my oflBoe sending
telegraphic messages.
Without any rap or other warning, a young
half-breed Indian boy rushed in. He was bare-
headed and barefooted and I immediately saw by
his excited appearance that something serious had
happened. I thought at first that some gun acci-
dent had occurred. Before I could question him^
he exclaimed excitedly: ''Meigan! Meigan!"
(Wolves! Wolves!) adding in his own language,
*'your rifle, quick!**
I hurriedly asked him if any person had been
attacked or killed, to which he answered, "No.**
As his excitement cooled down, I found that he
and his uncle had just come from the river, where
they had seen the tracks of a pack of wolves
about fifteen in number, and that they were still
quite close, as they had heard them howling fear-
fully.
My rifle was a good one, — ^the old Kentucky
Ballard, 46 cal. rim fire, but it was a single load-
er; and tackling fifteen wolves was, I thought,
perhaps a little too much for a single gun. I
therefore preferred taking my 10 bore Greener
double-barrelled gun, for which I had a lot of car-
A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT 316
tridges loaded for seals with AAAA and SS6
shot. Finding the boy was willing to come, too,
I gave him the empty rifle to carry, for which I
took about twenty more cartridges. As soon as
I had everything ready we started off. On reach-
ing the river I found his uncle there. He in-
formed me that the pack was still very close, as he
had just heard them again, but that he believed
they were going up the river along the shore.
This was on the west bank. The old man refused
to come, as he had only a flint lock muzzle loader,
H. B. Co. gun.
I must explain that the west side of the river
forms a wooded peninsula of a mile and a quarter
long and varying in width from one to two hun-
dred yards. On either side of it there is a sandy
beach, rising abruptly on the river side, and form-
ing a bank eight to ten feet high.
Jumping into the Indian's canoe we paddled
quickly over the river, being only a hundred yards
wide. Upon landing on the sand pit I saw that
it was indeed covered with the tracks of some very
large and some smaller wolves, but there were cer-
tainly less than stated. *'Muskrat,** — the In-
dian boy — ^was sure, however, that there were fif-
teen; his uncle had counted them. While cross-
ing the river we had again heard the howls of the
wolves, which appeared to be half a mile up the
inside bank of the river. I determined to try and
head them off, by running up the inside beach of
316 A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT
the peninsula, then crossing the wooded belt, and
laying m wait for them as they came up on the
main river shore. This would also give me the
advantage of a steep bank, supposing the wolves
wanted to be nasty. We had both started on the
run, and I had gone about five hundred yards,
when I noticed that the boy was not with me.
The little Beggar had sneaked off to take a look
across the woods. In a few seconds I saw him
coming back, waving his hand to me. I ran up.
**They have got scent of us," he exclaimed, **and
I have just seen three of them coming back down
the river. They are not very far away.** Not
expecting to go into the woods. I had left home
with a pair of heavy soled boots. Hastily re-
moving them, so as not to make any noise, I went
across with only my stockings on my feet. I cau-
tioned Muskrat to keep near me in case I
should need the rifle, which I kept empty,
as I was afraid to trust him with it load-
ed, behind me. Nearing the bank I peered
cautiously over. Sure enough there were three in
sight, sixty yards or so away, and coming towards
us as the boy had said. Two of them were big,
hungry-looking brutes, with a smaller one ac-
companying them. I looked around carefully
for the rest of the pack, but could not see it. At
all events there were enough to begin with. I had
both barrels of my gun loaded with SSG., and I
was now quite sure of one or two wolves at that
A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT 317
range, but I felt greedy and wanted the three,
so decided to wait till they either got wind of us
and turned, or else came very close to us. The
brutes had evidently wind of something or had
heard some noise, for they were on the alert.
Whatever was the cause of their alarm it did not
prevent them from coming on till they were with-
in twenty yards of us. Barring a miss-fire a kill
was now a sure thing. Getting a sight on one of
the big ones, I dropped him stone dead with the
left barrel and almost on top of him killed the
other one with the right. The small one gave a
couple of leaps, stopped and turned round, facing
me. By that time I had reloaded, and before he
could get away I had doubled him up with my
third shot. I gave a hurrah and turned to
''Muskrat'': he was gone. I shouted to him,
meanwhile going down to the bank to have a
look at my game and to see if there were any others
in sight. That was the whole pack as I soon
saw by the tracks. There were a dog, a she
wolf and probably one of their pups. They were
of the kind known here as the grey timber wolf,
Canis lupus. *'Muskrat** having returned, I sent
him for the canoe. He took time to advise his
uncle of our success, and when we landed, the
whole family was there. On the way home I
asked the little lad why he had deserted me.
**Well,'' he said, *'I had no gun, only your empty
rifle, and I thought they were getting too close.**
318 A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT
He had run away while I was getting ready for
the first shot. He showed more pluck some years
later, tackling three bears together, single-hand-
ed, with a muzzle-loading shot gun. Two of these
he killed, and the third got away from him be-
fore he could reload.
The skins of the two largest wolves measured
seven feet and a half after being stretched and
dried. The smallest was about a foot less in
length. I kept them for a time as a trophy, and
sold them afterwards to Mr. R. B. McLellan, a
lumber merchant, of New Brunswick, who had
taken a fancy to them. Three wolves within as
many minutes, within a mile of one's house, is
about as easy a hunt as one can wish for. It
leaves Mr. Armstrong's annual wolf hunt ''out
of sight.''
g[noti>er Cagp Woit jlant tn Wpominfi
3|n October, 1882, during a hunting trip in
33 that region, we camped one evening near a
little spring on the northern slope of the Owl
Creek Range — a kind of spur of the Wind River
Mountains in Wyoming. The altitude of our camp
was about eight thousand feet above the sea level.
Next morning I took a stroll around and found
signs of game, elk and deer. Baron de la Grange,
whose companion I was, decided that we should
stay there for a few days in order to secure some
meat for our own use and also to bring or send
out some for the Officers' Mess at Fort Washakie.
That same afternoon we shot two mule deer,
which we packed down whole on our horses. On
arriving at our camp I skinned and divided up the
carcasses, and according to the usual trapper
style I erected a small platform with fork trees
to hang and lay the meat on, as it was then quite
cold in the mountains. Next forenoon I killed
another deer, and going to clean and prepare it
in the same place, I noticed that all the scraps
and feet which I had thrown away had disap-
peared. On making a closer examination I saw
tracks of either wolves or coyotes, but the ground
was too hard and grassy to distinguish well. We
went out together in the afternoon, but had no
320 ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT
luck, and coming back along a small wood patch
I flushed a covey of what the people there called
blue grouse. It was in fact the dusky grouse,
Tetrao ohscurus. We had no shot gun, but with
my revolver we got four and tied them to the
strings of my saddle. On arriving at camp I
told Lannigan, our cook, thai we wanted them
for our breakfast in the morning. I laid the sad*
die near a box outside of the cook's tent and
went away to picket my horse.
We had our supper, and shortly afterwards
turned in, as we were to go out early next morn-
ing. About half-past three a.m. I heard our
cook around, and after a while he came to our
tent to find out what we had done with the grouse.
I told him that they were tied to the saddle as I
had not touched them after laying them down
with it. He said that they were not there, and
when I had got up to see about them, I found
that he was right. The strings were there, with
the knots still in them, but the birds were gone.
Feathers were strewn around, showing that the
grouse had been stolen by some animal. Some-
thing else was cooked for breakfast and we went
away, but I swore that I would get even with
that thief in the evening if possible.
We got one more deer that day, and the Baron
got two shots at an elk, through the woods, but
had missed it. I followed the tracks for some
distance in the hope that he might have been hit
ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT 321
but found no trace of blood. This, however, had
delayed us, and we got into camp just a little be-
fore dusk. I threw off the deer and saddle and
laid my rifle down alongside and hurried to go
and picket the horses. As I was walking along
with the lariat in my hand I pondered what sort
of a contrivance I would rig up that night for my
grouse thief. I had no suitable size steel trap for
a wolf, so I thought I would set a snare, which
was quickly made. Suddenly, within ten feet of
me, up started a coyote. I saw a whitish streak
going through the grass, and pulling my Colts
revolver I fired two shots, which I regretted im-
mediately afterwards, as the light was too dark
to shoot decently at such a fast moving target I
was sorry, too, because I had scared the animal
away, and thus lost my chance of getting it, as I
felt sure that it must have been my grouse thief
coming for more.
When the weather was fine we always had our
meals outside the tents, near the camp fire, both
for comfort and cheerfulness. There was a
good blaze to the fire on this particular nighty
shedding the light around for some distance.
Chancing to look towards the west side of the-
guUy I saw a large coyote sitting on his rump on
the edge of a small ridge. He was about forty^
yards from us. Returning to the fire I pulled my^
revolver, I took careful aim and fired. There
was a yell of pain and the whitish form went out
322 ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT
of sight over the ridge. I ran for my rifle with
the intention of trying to find the coyote with a
light, when to my surprise I started another one
near our saddles. This was getting rather excit-
ing. My rifle was not loaded, so the animal
sneaked away before I was ready. I did not hear
the first one any more, and thought best to leave
it alone for the moment and to try and get the
last one, as apparently the shot at the first had
not frightened it, and I imagined that it would
come back. The idea occurred to me to try and
bait it. I took the neck part of a deer and tied
it securely by the middle with one of our lariats
of half inch rope and sixty feet long. Laying the
bait down at one extremity of the rope, to which
it was fastened, I tied the loose end to one of the
saddles and watched. I did not have to wait
long. Soon there was tugging on the rope and
I had a glimpse of the coyote in the dim light,
for we had allowed the fire to diminish on pur-
pose. I had my rifle this time. There was to be
no more pop-gun business. I fired and there
was not even time for a groan. There was a hole
in the coyote*s neck, almost cutting it clean
through. The rifle was a 50 cal. Winchester Ex-
press!
The sport was too good not to be kept up; and
from that time till half-past ten I killed two
more coyotes and one cross fox. Next morning I
went to look for the first one and found him
ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT 323
dead in the grass a short distance away. The
bullet had struck him on one side, breaking the
shoulder bone and some of his ribs, going out at
his back. We had frequently heard coyotes howl-
ing during the night, apparently pretty cIose>
(such howls at night are very deceptive as to
distance), but I had always^ believed them to be
too cowardly to come up near a fire, or a tent.
Possibly our stock of deer meat attracted them
or they were pressed by hunger. The wolf skins
were prepared for mounting and taken home by
the Baron, but the cross-fox I sold to Mr. J. K.
Moore, post trader of Fort Washakie, for twelve
dollars. I have been on a wolf hunt at other
times, but these two hunts were the easiest and
most successful I ever had.
Ctiartat jKorean
CHARLES was a half-breed Montagnais In-
dian, originally belonging to Elsooumains,
Sagoenay. While still a baby, his father was
drowned while out seal hunting. Gabriel Ash-
ini— *'The Rock''— and his wife, Charlotte,
adopted the boy as their own and brought him up,
and this was how it happened that much of his
later life was spent at and around Pointe des
Monts.
I knew him intimately. He and I were great
friends, and for some three or four winters we
hunted within a few miles of each other and often
met. Sometimes I and my partner would go and
spend a Sunday evening at his camp and he would
return the visit later. At such times the best he
could afford was spread before us. A standing
dish was porcupine cooked on the spit, and
smoked or fresh beaver. Hares, grouse and fish
were only served when larger game was not avail-
able. They were considered too ordinary food
for such special occasions. Charles was not cele-
brated as a **mighty'' hunter, although he was not
a bad one either, but he was a celebrity in an-
other way. He was a **mighty eater.'* His gas-
tronomic performances were something extraor-
dinary. I have heard and read of better ones.
CHARLES MOREAU 326
but I never saw any. I will just cite a few whioh
I witnesed, some at his own camp and some at
our's. I saw him several times eat at one meal
a whole porcupine cooked on the spit, a yearling
beaver, or the tail and hind quarter of a large one.
None of the above contained less than seven
pounds of solid meat and fat. Besides this he
would eat a good sized galette and drink three or
four cups of tea to wash it down.
On another occasion, in summer, I made him a
present of a nine to ten pound salmon, which he
polished off in one meal. He was once hired by
Mr. Gaudet, a land surveyor, who was making
some Government survey in this section. The
poor fellow had probably been hard up for some
time before and thought this was a fine chance to
fill up, but unfortunately it did not last very long,
as Mr. Gaudet had to discharge him, because he
would otherwise have run out of provisions before
completing his work. It appears from the
cook's statement, that he used to eat from five to
seven large sailors' biscuits and two pounds of
pork per meal. He even stated — and I believe it
— ^that on one occasion he had eaten about five
pounds of pork in one meal I So it was no won-
der that Mr. /Gaudet did really fear that he might
run short of provisions. One day at Pointe des
Monts, several of us, who were seal hunters, were
together, and Charles was of the number. As
these feats of his were well known and frequently
326 CHARLES MOREAU
talked of, some one asked him how many golden
eye ducks he could eat at a sitting. Then some
one else mentioned another bird, and so on, and
Charles frankly told them how many of each he
thought he could use at a meal. Finally some
one asked how many snow buntings he could eat.
He pondered a little and then said quietly, *'If I
had nothing else to do and was allowed to go out
now and then, I could eat them forever !' * Speak-
ing about Indians with the late Col. Allan Gil-
mour, while he was here one season, I happened
to mention to him some of the above facts. He
was not incredulous about it, but he said that he
would like to see such a performance. As
Charles and his family came to Godbout every
year in July for the Mission, I determined I
would do my best to satisfy him. Some time
later Charles came along. I notified Mr. Gil-
mour that Charles, my man, was on hand. It
was arranged that he was to be invited next day
for dinner, and the cook, Rodgers, was to keep
note of what was disposed of. Going home that
evening I called at Charles' wigwam, as I want-
ed to prepare things so as to have no failure the
next day. I said to him, '*You are going to be
invited to-morrow by Mr. Gilmour to dine at the
camp, and I want to advise you what to do*
When gentlemen like Mr. Gilmour invite a guest
it is * 'Indian etiquette' ' or its equivalent that pre-
vails. You must eat all you can of every dish
CHARLES MOREAU 327
set before you; otherwise, if you eat too little, it
will be considered a slight or an insult. **If I
were in your place/* I added, **to be quite sure of
success I would have no breakfast to-morrow, and
then I would be sure to have a fine appetite/'
He said it was all right and that I could rely on
him.
Next day about noon he strolled into the camp.
I int:oduced him to Mr. Gilmour, and he was sent
to betaken care of by Rodgers, whose report was
as folows : — **Three salmon steaks about one and
a half pounds, one ox tongue weighing two
pouncs, about two pounds of cold ham, bread and
potatoes and five cups of tea were disposed of.
Then, for dessert, a one pound pot of Keiller's
marmalade was set before him. He took about
hilf of it, and then calling Bodgers, he said, 'I
an very sorry I cannot eat the whole of it, but I
dtn't like the bitter taste!' *' Needless to say
tie performance was considered quite satisfac-
tay.
Mr. Gilmour was always in the habit of giving
sane slight present to any Indians who came to
visit him, and on this occasion he gave Charles a
piir of blankets, adding, aside, that he hoped he
w)uld live long enough to use them! Meeting
bin a day or two afterwards, I thought I would
htve a little fun with him on the subject. So I
said, **Well, Charles, what was wrong with you
a1 camp the other day ? You did not make half
328 CHARLES MOREAU
a meal 1 They were pleased with you because thqr
did not know what you can do sometimes/'
''Well/* he said, ''I will tell you. That morn-
ing I was awfully hungry and I held off till ahi>ut
nine o'clock, and then I had breakfast before go-
ing up! I hope you are not vexed with ne."
The poor chap was always afraid of doing my-
thing that would displease me.
Indians are said to be ungrateful, but ingrati-
tude was certainly not one of his traits. The
reason of his great friendship for me was tbat I
had saved his life on one occasion. He wasbath-
ing with another Indian boy of his age ii the
Godbout river. The shores are pretty steep, and
in some places there are deep pools with a sttroig
current. Neither he nor his companion coud
swim, but with the help of two small cedar pad-
dles, Charles would float himself for a minute <r
two. Coming down to the river,. I saw then
there, and hiding behind some bushes I sat thoB
watching them, for they would neither bathe bn
foremenorwithme. After he had splashed arouid
for some minutes, the current drifted Charles oit
into the channel. Letting himself down to res;,
the water went over his head and he foimd t
deeper as he drifted. This so surprised him thtt
he let go his paddles, striking the bottom with hs
feet. The first time he rose, his head came ott
of the water and he went down again almost ts
quickly. His companion on the shore did not aj-
a?*.
CHARLES MOREAU 329
pear to notice anything wrong, thinking he was
playing *'seal.*' I rushed down the bank just as
he disappeared for the second and last time. I
had partly stripp>ed while runing down the bank
and jumping in I soon rieached the place where I
had last seen him. Looking around in the water I
saw his long hair spread out looking like a jelly
fish {Medusae). I dived and got a good grip of
his hair and raised him out of the water. While
I was doing this, he turned and got a grip on my
arm which I felt for some time. I soon had him
ashore. He was already unconscious, but soon re-
covered, as I had first given him a good shaking
face down, holding him by the middle of the body-
The other chap had run away in the meantime,
calling out and crying that Charles was drowned.
In a few minutes the whole Indian population was
down on the beach and Charles was carried up to
his wigwam.
Five years later I saved him a second time. It
was in the month of April at Pointe des Monts.
The day was fine and we were out sealing some
three miles or so from the shore. There were a
few scattered pans of ice here and there, and
among these we were on the watch for hooded
seals. Charles and a young Indian boy were
about half a mile to the eastward of us. I heard
him shoot, and standing up in my canoe I saw him
harpoon his seal. When there are no pieces of
ice around, it is customary for another canoe to
330 CHARLES MOREAU
go and help to ship it in, as it is impossible for
one canoe alone to ship such a large seal. Small
or medium sized seals can be managed alone
without much risk. In this case there was plenty
of ice and no need for our help. He towed his
seal to a nearby piece where he and his partner
hauled it up on the ice. The canoe was then
brought up alongside and partly turned over, one
man holding it while the other rolled the seal
over the gunwale. Then the canoe was righted
again and the seal placed in a good position to
balance the canoe evenly. While they were at
work doing this, the united weight of seal, canoe
and the two men, was too much for the strength of
the ice they were on and it broke up, upsetting the
canoe at the same time and scattering the pieces.
They managed with a little wetting to get on one
of the largest pieces, with the canoe, paddles and
seal drifting away. They shouted with all their
might, but it was too far to hear them. I chanced
to see them, however, waving their arms and hats.
I knew there was something wrong. We paddled
with all our might towards them till we saw how
they were fixed, and as there was no immediate
danger we eased oflf a little. We got them both in
and afterwards recovered the canoe and outfit,
and also the seal, which being a fat one, was still
floating.
This second incident increased Charles' friend-
ship still more and he could not sufficiently ex-
^ w^__ .~f ^-<r
CHARLES MOREAU 331
press his gratitude. Alas! poor fellow! he was
bound to be drowned. Two years later, one fine
and calm morning in May, he was out ducking in
a bark canoe. The same young lad was with him,
a son of William Jordan, the poacher. They
were oflf Pointe des Monts lighthouse, about a
quarter of a mile from shore. They fired a good
many shots, and Mr. Ferd. Fafard, sr., who was
then the lighthouse keeper, watched them for a
long time through his telescope while they were
shooting. The last time he saw them they were
apparently chasing a wounded bird. Having
something to attend to he entered the lighthouse,
hearing a shot as he went in. A few minutes
afterwards he returned and was rather surprised
that the canoe was not in sight. He looked
around carefully, but could see nothing. He then
presumed that he had been away longer than he
thought and that the canoe had gone ashore in
one of the several little bays in the vicinity.
They had gone out early in the morning. About
one o'clock in the afternoon, seeing they did not
return, old Gabriel got anxious about his adopted
son. So he went to the lighthouse where he
thought he might possibly be. He was then in-
formed by Mr. Fafard of what he had seen, and
it was thought that he might have gone to
Trinity Bay, six miles east, for some goods or
ammunition, as a store was then kept there to
which they often went. Night came, however.
332 CHARLES MOREAU
without any tidings of them. Early the next
morning seTeral canoes went ont searching for
them in every direction. Other people went on
foot along the beach, but no trace of the missing
hunters or their canoe was ever found anywhere.
Some persons supposed that the canoe was cut or
capsized by a large shark, but personally, I think
the fatality was due to a gun accident. The young
lad Jordan, who steered the canoe, had a gun
as well as Charles, and I believe that his gun,
either accidentally or otherwise, went off and
burst the bottom of the canoe or killed his com-
panion, who may have upset the canoe in falling.
Old Gabriel was very much affected by this
loss and showed more grief than is usual amongst
Indians. Charles had married a tall Nascapis
woman, called Marie, when she was christened
by the missionary. No one knew her by any
other name. With her he had five daughters,
only one of whom is now living. The accompany-
ing photo shows all the then sorrowing members
of the family. It was taken a year after the
death of Charles.
ANGEUQUE MICHEL
A Montagnais Woman who Died at the Age of 106 Years
(Photo by J. G. Bruneau)
iabriel, sitting ; Behind him Charles Moreau's Widow and Child ; in the Middle, Charlotte,
Gabriers Wife. The Others are Daughters of Charles. Of this Group, Charles* Widow,
and the Girl on the Right, are the only ones Living. (l9og)
3&r. W. H^. JBrmnmonb
^Ti HAPPENED to spend a few days in Montreal
/2I in November, 1897, where, I may say en
passant, I have many warm friends. While
there I had the honor one evening of being the
guest of Mr. George Boulter, ex-President* of the
Montreal Gun Club, and it was at his house that
I first had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Drum-
mond. Needless to say, we spent a most enjoy-
able evening. Some of the Doctor's poems,
amongst others, **Le Vieux Temps,'' were admir-
ably rendered by one of the guests. The Doctor
was one of the members of the *'Weymahegan
Salmon Club,'' and, of course, some of the topics
of conversation were fishing and shooting. Some
time later, I received by our winter mail a copy
of **The Habitant," with the best wishes of the
author. On the fly-leaf of the book was written : —
" The Sirens of the Godbout's shore
Must be a very different species
To those who sang on Cretan cliffs
And played the devil with Ulysses,
For he, poor chap, instead of Heaven
Soon found himself Alas 1 in Hades,
While you " O'Komo " seem to thrive
Among the Godbout*s rock-bound ladies I "
W. H. Drummono.
Montreal, Nov. 26th, 1907.
384 DR. W. H DRUMMOND
He also enclosed at the same time the original
manuscript of a poem, which I believe was never
published, and which, in order that it may be
saved from possible oblivion, I now insert. All
honor to him, and to ''Baptiste mon FrereT*
O Pilgrim from the Godbout's shore
Where broad Atlantic billows roll
g)peak 1 hast thou seen the Commodore (1)
He whose unconquerable soul
A thirst for wilder, fiercer game
Than haunt the calm Laurentian streams
Burned to achieve a greater fame
And realize his fondest dreams '
Speak I hast thou seen his grissled locks
By Ocean's vagrant breeses fann'd
Where Weymahegan's (2) giant rocks
Keep watch and ward o*er sea and land
Hast seen him where the currents lave
Fair Mistassini's (3) silver shore
On river — sea — by land or wave
Speak I hast thou seen the Commodore ?
The Pilgrim spoke, while down his cheek
The salt tean coursed grievously
Good Sir, I feeble am and weak
Yet I my tale may tell to thee
I saw the veteran's wasted fonn
That form we used to mark with pride
Lie prostrate mid the wrack and stonn
Of Weymahegan's awful tide
Small strength alack of wind or limb
Had he upon that fearful day
(1) W. H. Parker, Manager Laurentian Qub.
(2) A Rapid on the Godbout.
(3) River Mistassini.
DR. W. H. DRUMMOND 336
But though hiB eagle eye was dim^
Yet gazed he o'er the hills where lay
The Laurentides where he had spent
So many happy, happy hours
Safe from the storms of life, content
Amid the Pdches' (1) tranquil bowers.
'Twas thus he spoke : " O why was 1
By youthful traveller's tale beguiled
To quit the pleasant Pdche and die
In this inhospitable wild ?
What lured me on to cast aside
The simple pleasures of my youth
Until I longed for Godbout's tide
And cared no more for trout forsooth !
rash was I to lend an ear
To all those legends of the sea
To bring my faithful legion here
Does this reward their constancy ?
1 cannot say, but this I know
Should I behold the Pdche again
Could I but see its waters flow
I'd be the hmnblest of the train
That worships there — no more I'd roam
In search of other piscine fields
Contented with my humble home
With all that old Laurentian yields
I'd gladly live and cheerful die."
But here his accents' gan to sink
We thought his hour had come, till I
Administered a generous drink.
The veteran gasped but when the flask
He saw — tho' feeble as a child,
Bravely essayed the pleasant task
Of tiying to empty it and smiled
Yes, though he had almost passed away
In one brief moment from our ken
Yet wondrous 'twas to see that day
(1) Lac ia Pkhe, Laurentian Club House
336 DR. W. H. DRUMMOND
His rapturoufl look as he smiled a^iin
New strength came back to the wasted limbs
The roses bloomed in his cheek once more
And the sound of our glad thanksgiving hymn
Rang out o'er Weymahegan's shore.
He prayed us to pardon his misdeeds
He wept when the legion embraced his neck
And swore by the sacred Laurentides
He'd never more venture below Quebec.
So gently we bore the repentant chief
Tenderly placed him that awful day
On board of the gaUant ship '' ReUef " (1)
And swiftly to the Westward sailed away.
The Pilgrim ceased, his moumful task
Was ended at last and all was well
Then raised to his lips the magic flask
And silently bade me a last farewell.
Joy I Joy I at the Pdche — let the Caribou dance
Let the fatted oxen at once be slain
Let the men get full and the bull moose prance
For the Commodore has come home again.
1 A powerful wooden tug formerly owned by Mr. Roes, Quebec.
iWatl i^erbtte
^J^^HEN my father settled at Trinity Bay in
utf 1859, we Had no mail service at all in this
part of the country, the nearest post oflSoe to the
Bay that I remember having been Bersimis. Dur-
ing the summer we sent or received letters by trad-
ing vessels or fishing schooners which outfitted in
Quebec and returned there after the season's
operations were over. In winter, about the mid-
dle of January, a private mail was sent by the
Hudson Bay Company from their post at Mingan,
which was, and still is, the chief one on Western
Labrador and the North Shore, east of Bersimis.
The distance from Mingan to Bersimis and re-
turn, by land, counting all the detours that have
to be made, is over six hundred miles.
Three men were generally sent on this trip, in-
cluding one of the junior clerks who always had
charge of the despatches and saw to the purchase
of provisions and other necessaries during the
voyage, which generally took six weeks. The
whole trip had to be performed on snowshoes, and
the mail and provisions, etc., were carried in a
pack, each one taking his share. My early com-
panion and friend, Mr. Peter McKenzie, made
the trip several winters in succession. When the
party happened to put up for the night at some
338 MAIL SERVICE
settlement, letters were accepted and carried free
for the family if possible, but in other places a
charge of twenty-five cents per letter was exacted,
and was willingly paid. Except in a few places
near settlements, there were no roads or paths of
any kind, and the mail party had to work its way
through the woods, sometimes for miles, to avoid
bad places along the sea coast. On these long
portages, if a guide was available, one was taken;
if not they had to go through as best they could.
On McKenzie's first trip his party was lost for
two days in the Manitou portage, and Tom Flett,
an Orkney man, who was with him, had his feet
badly frost bitten. On another occasion the whole
party broke through the ice while crossing a river,
the Sheldrake, if I remejiiber rightly, and all would
have been drowned had it not been for Peter
McKenzie's great muscular strength. He man-
aged to get hold of some tree or branches, and as
the others clung to him he pulled them out
While on this subject I may suggest what is a
good thing to do in passing over weak or doubtful
ice, as in crossing a river or lake early in the sea-
son. Cut a long pole and carry it by the middle,
if alone, and if you do break through, the pole
will support you, as it covers so much surface and
you will be able to draw yourself out. Two poles
are sometimes used if the distance is short. When
two persons go together, one end of the pole
should be held by each. This wrinkle has saved
MAIL SERVICE 339
many lives. Unless in very cold weather salt
water ice of less than three inches thick should not
be trusted, and if it be very mild even four inches
is not safe. Half that thickness of fresh water
ice will bear the weight of an ordinary man safely.
To resume, a few years later we got a monthly
summer mail via Eimouski, but none in winter.
When the Moisie Iron Works were opened by
Mr. Markam Molson, the company had a private
mail service between Moisie and Bersimis. The
tariff for letters taken en route was the same as
that charged by the H. B. Co., twenty-five cents
each. Two men were employed and they made
four or five trips each winter, about fifteen to
twenty pounds of mail matter being carried on
the average each trip. After my first voyage
with the old Indian, Ploute, to Bersimis, I fre-
quently went as guide for these mail carriers
over the long portage to Manicouagan Eiver.
Ten to twelve dollars was considered good pay for
such services in those days, and they were hard
earned dollars.
On one of these trips, two of Molson's men,
Brochu and Levesque, for whom I was acting as
guide, nearly lost their lives. It was our first
day out from Godbout and we proposed to camp
that night near the Mistassini River. About four
miles before reaching the river the route passed
near the sea shore to avoid the spur of a high
mountain. Standing in the path one could see
340 MAIL SERVICE
through the trees the edge of the beach which at
that point was level. I was some distance ahead
breaking the road, and as I carried no mail, but
only my provisions, my pack was considerably
lighter and I often had to wait for them on the
way. When the two carriers, both young men,
got to this place, a fancy struck them to go along
by the hard beach instead of following my track
through the woods. It was all right for a short
distance, but they soon met a steep cliflf which
they could not get around, as the sea covered the
base of it. Instead of returning to the path they
stupidly set to work to climb around it. In do-
ing so, Levesque, who was in the lead, lost his
footing in the loose snow and slid down into the
water. His companion, trying to turn back, met
the same fate. Fortunately the tide was low and
they found footing on some loose rocks in four or
five feet of water. After much trouble and exer-
tion they scrambled up wet through and chilled.
I had gone on some distance and waited for them,
but after a reasonable time had elapsed I got
anxious and turned back to see what the trouble
was and found their tracks leading down to the
sea shore. I knew of the cliflf in the way and
presimied that by this time they must have gone
around and were on their way to the camping
place; so as it was getting late in the day I felt
that I must hurry up to prepare the camp. I was
undecided, however, about resuming my return
MAIL SERVICE 341
track. Somehow I felt that there was some-
thing wrong and I hurried down. It was most for-
tunate that I did so, for I met them at the edge of
the woods, shivering with the cold and not a dry
match between them. Levesque had lost his mit-
tens and his axe in his fall. I advised them to
keep moving while I started a fire, after which
I cut some branches to sit on and urged them to
wring out part of their clothing. In the mean-
time I melted some snow and we had some hot tea.
It was then too late to continue and as we were in
an exposed and inconvenient situation, I decided
that we should walk back half a mile and sleep in
a deserted trapper's camp that I knew of. In
due time we got there and soon had a good blaze
in it, and we passed a fairly comfortable night.
We all wore sealskin moccasins for snowshoeing,
and Levesque' s shoes being dripping wet, he
hung them up on a cross bar near the smoke hole.
I cautioned him to remove them before he went to
sleep. However, he was too tired to do so, or for-
got them, and I being tired also, soon dozed off.
How long I slept I don't know, but the fire was
getting low, so I piled on more wood, and in the
bright light I saw Levesque' s shoes all shrivelled
up and about five inches long each. They were
burned and in trying to straighten one of them
it broke. Wet green hides of any kind are easily
burnt, even by the moderate heat of the sun.
Next morning we had to improvise a pair of shoes
342 MAIL SERVICE
out of our canvas provision bags and a pair of
woollen socks served him for mitts. Except for
a bruise on one foot which Brochu had received in
his fall, they did not appear any the worse for the
enforced cold salt water bath.
Two days later we reached Manicouagan,
where Thibeau, the trapper, had a comfortable
house. Brochu's foot Was so painful that he
could not continue, and I arranged, for a consid-
eration, to carry his mail bag to Bersimis and re-
turn, while he stayed at Thibeau's to rest his foot.
Levesque bought a pair of shoes and we started
early, reaching Bersimis that same night, as the
walking was very good, especially over the ice,
following the coast line.
The Postmaster, Mr. W. S. Church, who was
also the Hudson Bay Co. Agent, told us our re-
turn mail would be ready at ten o'clock next day.
This would make it too late for us to return to
Manicouagan, but I determined we should start
any way and sleep at Pointe aux Outardes. We
had been invited by the Revd. Pere Arnaud to
stay with him at the Mission and were made very
comfortable. In due time, we got our mail and
left. The coast line here forms a deep bay with
Pointe aux Outardes jutting out on the east side
of the river, which is four miles wide at its
mouth. In a direct line it is only twelve nautical
miles, but by the detour it is fully sixteen. As I
said before, the ice was good an4 appeared to be
MAIL BERYIOE 343
SO as far as we could see. Levesque was for mak-
ing the short cut and two or three times proposed
to do so. I told him that it was too risky, as the
ice might move off shore with the strong ebb tide
or the wind ; and, moreover, that it might be weak
far out, as to follow a straight line would take us
about five miles off land for a time. All this I
had explained to him, and as he had said nothing
I concluded that he had given up this idea. What
was my surprise a few minutes later to see that
he had left me and was heading straight out. I
shouted to him, but to no purpose, seeing which
I continued following our old tracks along shore.
I called at Chief Estlo's wigwam near the Ou-
tarde River, and had lunch with him, and gave
him the Bersimis news, and then left, arriving at
Pointe aux Outardes at dusk. Inquiring, I was
told that Levesque had not been seen there. What
had happened no one could say and it was too late
to go out and search. Only one thing could be
done, viz., to put out some lights in case he might
be out on the ice somewhere, which many thought
doubtful, as they believed he was drowned. It
was not so, however, and about nine o'clock, Le-
vesque turned up, very tired, but otherwise all
right.
His story was that after leaving me when
about four miles from shore, he saw a lane of
open water ahead of him. As it appeared nar-
row in the distance, he ran in the hope of be-
844 MAIL SERVICE
ing able to jiunp across. To his despair it was
more than thirty feet wide and gradually getting
broader. He could not swim a stroke, so there
was no possibility of his getting over. To the
westward the lane of water seemed to be gradual-
ly narrowing, till, in the distance, the pieces ap-
peared to join. He ran in that direction for two
miles, only to find that it got wider as he ap-
proached. Then he realized that he was adrift,
but that there was no immediate danger, as the
ice was strong enough to bear him, though how
long he might be on it he could not tell. As there
was no wind he had some hopes that he might be
rescued from shore in the morning. He knew
nothing about the action of the strong tides in
that vicinity, or he would have known that the
ebb was then carrying the ice out and that the
flood would bring it back if a strong wind did not
intervene. He kept pacing up and down to keep
warm and luckily for him it was not very cold.
How far out he drifted he could not tell us, but
from what I know of the place, he must have gone
nearly two miles. With the strong flood tide the
ice set back again and joined the firm and fast
shore ice. As soon as possible he made for shore,
the lights we had placed out guiding him. I
think he learned a good lesson, because although
I had occasion to guide him on two more trips, I
never heard any more suggestions of short cuts.
During the first winters in which we had a
MAIL SERVICE 345
regular mail service of three and four mails, mis-
haps of various kinds happened to the carriers,
but no lives were lost. Some got badly frost-
bitten, others broke through the ice, and on one
occasion they were eleven days in the Manicou-
agan portage of forty-five miles, having lost their
way in a snowstorm. In spite of all these dan-
gers mail matter was seldom lost, though often
received in a more or less damaged condition.
One night two of the carriers nearly perished
through the burning of their camp while they
were asleep. They escaped with part of their
clothing burnt and the loss of half of one of the
mail bags.
On another occasion a landslide on the Mani-
couagan upset our mail carrier's boat and the
four men were thrown out by the shock. As the
water was only four or five feet deep, they saved
themselves and recovered the mail bags the next
day. This was on the last trip of the season,
about the middle of April, and half an hour or so
before daylight. I happened to be near at the
time, hunting geese, and heard the rumble, which
sounded and felt like a moderate earthquake. It
frightened all the geese away and I returned to
the telegraph station where I was on duty. A
short time afterwards the men arrived and told us
of the accident.
Within recent years three mail bags have been
lost, but it was more from want of proper care
346 MAIL SERVICE
than anything else, they having been left over
night in too exposed a situation and been carried
ofif by the sea and ice.
Forty years ago the whole winter mail weighed
about one hundred pounds. To-day (1909) six
thousand pounds are carried and nearly as much
remains over winter in the Quebec Post OflBce,
this last being mostly parcels, books, calendars,
etc. In 1877 our first post oflSce was opened
here, and since then we have had a regular ser-
vice, both winter and summer. From four win-
ter mails we have reached ten now, and from a
monthly summer service have grown to a ten-day
one. The little yawl, double-ender, or fishing
boat, which ran between Bimouski and the North
Shore in the old days, has given place to two mod-
ern steamers. All of this we are glad to note as
signs of increasing prosperity in this long neg-
lected portion of the Province.
Q
o
H
I
J
CO
I
I ^
CO
CO
tgrottt
ll^NE of the worst enemies of the sahnon is, in
KJ^ my opinion, the trout. Doubtless, in mak-
ing this statement, I shall arouse the ire of a great
many trout anglers, who very naturally wish to
see their favorite protected. Nevertheless, by
those who own salmon rivers and who want to
keep them as such, trout must be looked upon
as an enemy and a poacher of the worst
type. In support of this statement I will
cite facts that have come under my own observa-
tion. Many years ago when I was engaged
in trapping, I had a camp near a salmon
spawning bed on the head waters of the Trinity
River. Every fall, in October, this pool would
become full of trout, and it was just a mat-
ter of a few minutes to pull out all we wanted
either for food or to use in baiting our traps. On
cutting open these fish we invariably found them
full of salmon spawn, and occasionally, but not
often, salmon parr or some of their own kind.
Now, just imagine what havoc a few hundred
trout would create in a few days in such a pool ! .
Very likely what was happening there was appli-
cable to other portions of the river. We often
got trout in that pool up to the middle of Decem-
ber. After that they disappeared, or would not
take, because we never got any again before the
848 TROUT
end of March. I often tried fishing in the deep
portions of the river, but without success. In
the lakes, however, we could get them all through
the winter, which made me think that possiblj
they left the rivers in December and went to the
lakes for the winter. In March and April they
were abundant again, and when the ice broke up
in May they moved out to sea with the salmon.
In the spring they are in poor condition and very
voracious and will feed on anything they can
swallow, living or dead. This is the time also
when they feed most on the parr. Mice are
commonly found in their maw and are considered
by the Indians one of the most deadly baits. I
can endorse this from experience. From the mid-
dle of May to the end of June there are very few
trout left in the rivers, but even these few, chief-
ly fingerlings, are willing to do all the mischief
they can. It is no uncommon thing to get one of
these small trout on the fly while salmon fishing
and to find a parr in its stomach nearly half its
own size. More than that I have seen them with
the tails of the parr sticking out of their mouths.
The proprietors of the Godbout River, Messrs.
Law and Manuel, will corroborate this, because
they have caught them similarly gorged, them-
selves. It is a wonder that such a mouthful would
not satisfy them. Where and how can they after-
wards stow away another object the size of a sal-
mon fly? They apparently rise at it for food.
TROUT 340
but perhaps they have the instinct of the cat and
kiU for pleasure.
Trout were unmercifully netted and seined dur-
ing the period that the Hudson's Bay Co. had the
monopoly of our northern rivers, and to this fact,
perhaps, we can ascribe the continued supply of
salmon in spite of the excessive netting. Experi-
ences and observations go to prove that one can-
not have an abundance of trout on a salmon river
without the latter suffering from it. Prior to 1876
no salmon had ever been killed on the Trinity
River with the fly. Several noted anglers had
given it a trial: Dr. Adamson, Messrs. W. F.
Whitcher and Richard Nettle, and two English
gentlemen named Moore and Dalmitch, who had
got a lease of it, but all* of them without success
for salmon, though any amount of trout was taken
and it was thus considered as a trout river only.
Early in 1876 I applied for and got a free permit
from the Marine and Fisheries Department at
Ottawa to give the river a trial for salmon. In
July of the same year I spent a week on it and
killed two salmon and a few grilse, and enough
trout to fill three and a half barrels ! The follow-
ing season Judge Henry was induced to lease it
and kiUed eight salmon, and the task of reducing
the quantity of trout on it was begun. Three to
four hundred of these would sometimes be taken
in one haul of the net in a pool. With the dim-
inished numbers of the trout the salmon score
360 TROUT
kept increasing. The river changed hands, but
the warfare continued. The present score is now
and has been for some years past about two hun-
dred sahnon on the average per season. The
Trinity is not an exception in this respect.
Equal success has been obtained on other rivers.
The Godbout has been systematically netted for
years, and for its size no other river in Canada,
or I might say, in the world, can compare with
it as a salmon river. During the first years that
I was guardian I used to do this netting with
fixed nets, but as the then proprietors thought it
interfered in some way with the free entrance of
the salmon in the river, the netting was stopped.
The effect was soon felt and the netting had to be
resumed. This is now done with a seine instead
of fixed nets. My average catch was about two
thousand pounds a year while I used the fixed gill
nets. Six years later when the fishing was re-
sumed, one single haul of the seine produced
three thousand four hundred pounds ! The trout
ranged from half a pound to seven and three-
quarter pounds in weight. Aside from the regu-
lar seining carried on each year, about one thou-
sand trout on an average are taken with the fly
by tourists and the proverbial ''small boys."
These last are very liberally supplied each season
by Mr. Manuel with a free outfit of flies and fish-
ing tackle. The same thing is done, I am told,
by Mr. Morton Paton on the Trinity and Mr. I.
TROUT 361
W. Adams at Moisie, where a regular seining of
the trout is to be carried on in future. In Sag-
uenay County, to the west of the Bersimis river,
netting for trout, in any way, has been prohibit-
ed by the Provincial Government. This regula-
tion has now been in force for some years. It was
through the influence and recommendations of a
local Fishery Officer that this measure was adopt-
ed, as he was desirous of preserving the trout for
angling. This may be very desirable from his
point of view, but it is very much to the detri-
ment of the salmon, I am afraid. Notwithstand-
ing the fact that there are hundreds of thousands
of young salmon fry deposited each year in near-
by waters, there are complaints of the gradual de-
crease of salmon in that section. Last season
(1908) this falling off was very marked, while to
the east of Bersimis there was comparative abun-
dance. I have no doubt there may be other
causes responsible for this, but the trout is an
important factor.
WW in a »ea tgrotit
A^uiTE recently there was in Forest and Stream
%P( a long and bitter controversy on this sub-
ject. Some said that there was no such thing as
a sea trout. Others claimed that there was,
while still others maintained that river and sea
trout were one and the same fish, the change in
color, etc., being due to the change from fresh to
salt water, and so on. Those who read these art-
icles can draw their own conclusions. For my
part I say we have in our northern rivers two dis-
tinct species and will now give my observations on
them. When I was residing at Trinity Bay with
my father, we often caught bright silvery trout,
both in the nets and by angling. Fishermen
called them sea trout, others salmon trout. More
learned ones said they were hybrids between the
salmon and trout. Anyway, the difference was
noticed. Many years later, about 1880, I made
the acquaintance of an eminent scientist. Dr. C.
H. Merriam, now Chief of the Biological De-
partment at Washington, D.C. The Doctor was
a most ardent lover of nature and as I had some
inclinations that way myself, we enjoyed each
other's company. During our rambles together
we talked of beasts, birds and fishes, and casually
I mentioned what was said about the sea trout. He
WHAT IS A SEA TROUT 353
said he did not believe in this hybrid theory, but
that it was probably a distinct species and asked
me to send him some specimens for identification.
For various reasons I could not do this before
July, 1883. During that month while fishing for
salmon in the ''Upper Pool" of the Godbout
river, I caught several of these so-called salmon
or sea trout, and selecting one of each kind, river
and sea trout, sent them both, preserved in alco-
hol, to Dr. Merriam, who forwarded them to the
Smithsonian Institution, and here is the reply he
got:—
united states national museum
under direction op
the smithsonian institution
Washington, Oct. 17, 1884.
Dear Doctor :
The two trout which you sent to the Museum
from the mouth of the St. Lawrence River, repre-
sent two very distinct species. The one with
dark coloration, without evident red spots, and
with a narrow band of hyoid teeth, is salvelinus
oquassa. The other with very distinct red spota
and without hyoid teeth is S, fontinalis.
If you desire any further information about
these species I shall be glad to furnish it.
Very respectfully yours,
T. H. Bean,
Curator y Dept. of Fishes.
354 WHAT IS A SEA TROUT
In a private letter. Dr. Merriam added that
this species had only been recently described by,
if I remember rightly, Mr. C. Gilbert, and that
the specimen came from the Bangeley Lakes, in
Maine. Subsequently, in 1896 and '97, I killed
some specimens of salvelinus oquassa at the Co-
cashoo and Big Bomaine rivers, in Labrador.
In July, 1903, Mr. Charles Stewart Davison, who
was fishing the Trout River near Moisie, killed a
specimen of salvelinus oquassa, which I saw and
helped to preserve for him. This specimen was
later on presented to the New York Aquarium.
I append Mr. Davison's letter : —
66 Wall Street.
New York, July 30th, 1908.
Napoleon Comeau, Esq.,
Godbout,
Province of Quebec, Canada.
My Dear Mr. Comeau : —
I sent the trout to the New York Aquarium and
have a letter from Mr. Townsend, the director, in
which he says that it ''appears to be one of the
forms of oquassa, just which I am unable to
state, as the Aquarium has no Specimen for com-
parison. I can probably inform you on the point
a little later.**
He adds that the trout ''would be welcome in
our Aquarium collection, if you do not want it.**
I therefore told him to keep it and have written
WHAT IS A SEA TROUT 356
him a letter in relation to it, of which I enclose
you a copy, and I am sure that he would be very
glad if you would write him anything bearing on
the subject which may be within your knowledge
or experience.
Yours very truly,
Charles S. Davison,
I therefore feel that, backed by such competent
authorities as those above cited, we can well say
we have two distinct species of trout in our rivers.
Continuing my investigations with regard to
salvelinus oqtuissa, I found that they were irregu-
lar in their migrations and that although many
followed and associated with S. fantinalis in
their ascent of the rivers, the majority spawned
in or near tidal waters. I have also observed that
both species of trout are liable to a contagious
disease of a fungoid character that attacks their
gills and fins. I have witnessed two such epi-
demics since I have been here. These are gener-
ally confined to one river. The last one I saw
was on the Trinity River, in 1879, when hundreds
of trout were found dead strewn on the beach in
the vicinity.
fl JLvOiV Cant
^iT HAS been said that ''there is nothing new
Jj under the sun/' which I dare say is very
true, but there are things that happen so rarely
that they may be considered new and when they do
occur. So far as my experience goes, the follow-
ing is one of them :
Trout are netted on the Godbout, not to exter-
minate them as some people wrongly imagine,
but simply to keep the numbers in reasonable
bounds, so that they will not cause too much dam-
age. Enough are left to enable anglers to enjoy
the sport of fishing for them.
One stormy day the Dominion Government
steamer ''Constance** was anchored here wait-
ing for the weather to clear. The Commander*
Captain Geo. M. May, had come ashore to send
despatches. I was just getting ready to go fish-
ing when he landed, so after the despatches had
been sent I said to the Commander: "Why don't
you come and try your luck with the trout, with
me?" Not having brought any rod or tackle
ashore with him he did not like to spoil my sport,
he said, by depriving me of my rod. However,
I prevailed upon him and off we went. We fished
turn about, — each for half an hour at a time,
and each netted for the other. We had splendid
A LUCKY CAST 367
sport and got a little over three dozen fine trout
from half a pound in weight to four and a half
pounds. After a time the trout gave up rising in
the pool where we were fishing, and as it was my
turn to fish, I climbed up a bit of steep rock where
sometimes a good cast could be made in a small
eddy at the foot. As my tackle was light and the
fish heavy and strong, we had been using one fly
only. I had no sooner dropped the fly in the eddy
than there was a swirl in the water and I was fast
in a good sized trout, which I knew to be at least
three pounds in weight. I played it from my
place on the cliff and while I was so doing thought
it very strange to find that my trout had suddenly
become much stronger than it was at first. I
commenced to think that I had been mistaken in
my first slight glimpse of the fish. So I called
out to Commander May that I had a whopper and
asked him to get the net. Quietly I brought the
trout in near the shore, but before the net could
be placed under it, the Commander shouted out,
to my great surprise, ''Why, you have two
trout I I said nothing, as I thought that he
might have seen another near it, which is some-
thing that occasionally happens, for quite often
one trout will follow another that is fast to the
end of a line. After a minute or so I got back
again to the shore the fish which had made an-
other short run in the meantime, and the Com-
mander netted two trout. He had not been de-
368 A LUCKY CAST .
oeived. One of them weighed three and a half
pounds and the other two pounds^ and both were
caught together on the one fly! I could hardly
believe it I Have you found the ''Siamese
twins?'' I said to the Commander. On examin-
ation we found that the first one had been caught
in the corner of the mouth with the barb of the
hook protruding through to the outside. The sec-
ond one could see the fly and had probably come
for it too, and, in so doing, had got fast in the
barb of the hook, being caught near the eye. So
I consider it as quite a lucky cast, and are you
not, gentle reader, of the same opinion?
^B^URiNG the last fifteen years I have received
M& hundreds of letters of enquiry about sal-
mon rivers. I have always replied to them to the
best of my ability. For the benefit of those who
may seek information, I will add a few notes on
our different rivers and some of their scores, and
will venture to say something in regard to what I
think might be done with some others.
Before going any further, however, I may say
that there are two things absolutely necessary to
a river before it can become a salmon river, and
these are perfectly clean water and a reasonable
area of spawning ground, namely good clear
gravelly bottom. Salmon may enter muddy or
polluted streams, but they will not spawn in them,
and even if they did I do not believe that the ova
would thrive, so that no amount of re-stocking
would ever do any good.
A case in point is the Ste. Anne River a few
miles east of Quebec. In October, 1878, I was
requested by Mr. H. Stanley Smith, who was then
the proprietor of the Ste. Anne, to inspect his
river with a view to ascertaining whether it could
be improved in any way. He told me that he had
spent about fourteen thousand dollars on the river
in various ways, such as paying a number of
360 SALMON RIVERS
guardians, buying neighboring property and
stocking the river with fry. I believe he stated
that he had placed in the river altogether, at dif-
ferent times, over one hundred thousand youn^
salmon fry, and all this with apparently no result.
He was not then getting any more salmon than he
did when he had. first bought the river years be-
fore.
We drove down from Quebec in the afternoon
with a remarkably fine pair of horses of his own,
I remember, and in the evening I inspected the
mouth of the river. There was nothing in or
hear the mouth that could interfere with the entry
of the fish. Next morning early we drove up to
the falls, where I was provided with a canoe. On
examing this first pool just below the falls I
found that the whole bottom of this pool was cov-
ered with sawdust and other debris. In some
places this was three to four feet thick, and the
stench when I dredged some of it up was worse
than that of a sewer. The other portions of the
river from the falls to the mouth were not quite so
bad, but I noticed that the bottom was very rocky
for the greater part of the way. There was not
in the whole of the river a decent place where
twenty salmon could spawn. On making enquir-
ies I found that all this sawdust and debris came
from some mill or mills situated at St. Fereol,
above the falls. This was not very encouraging
information to give to Mr. Smith, but I told him
oALMON RIVf^RS 361
that in my opinion the river conld not be improved
unless at great cost. I advised him to sell it, if
he was not satisfied with its present condition,
which he did shortly afterwards. His successors
repeated his experiments of restocking on a larger
scale, but it does not yield more salmon than it did
thirty years ago, when I inspected it, if, indeed,
it yields as many.
There are many rivers between Tadousac and
Labrador in which there are no salmon at all and
others in which there are only a few. The first
mentioned contain no salmon because of natural
obstructions where they empty into the sea, such
for example as the Sault au Cochon, the Manitou,
etc. On others where there are a few miles, more
or less, between the tide way and these obstruc-
tions, natural or artificial, salmon will generally
be found. Of this class of rivers there are sev-
eral, some of them beautiful streams with good
size tributaries, notably the Outarde, Manicou-
agan, Pentecost and Ste. Marguerite. On each
of these below the falls I have seen salmon, posi-
tive proof that if they had the chance they would
go further. Considering the immense area of un-
disturbed spawning grounds that these could af-
ford, it seems a great pity to see them wasted as
it were. Salmon rivers are so valuable to-day
that I believe it would be a good investment for
the Government or capitalists to take hold of these
rivers and build fishways on them. Now would
362 SALMON RIVERS
be the time to do this before there are any or too
many vested rights on them. It would not be an
experiment either, as proved by what has been
done in Norway, where the river conditions are
very similar to our own. In that country, fish lad-
ders have been built at a moderate outlay on f aUs
of over fifty feet in height. The Escoumain was
at one time a good salmon river, but ruined by
the dam built on it and the neighboring miU.
Previous to this an old fisherman named Moreau
told me that he used to net about seventy-five
barrels of salmon a year in the river. About
thirty years ago lumbering operations were sus-
pended for a time and the dam washed away.
Salmon at once returned to it. Fortunately
there are not many rivers on the North Shore
hampered in this way.
There are a good number of small rivers that
could be improved and that would then afford
fair sport for one or two rods. As improvements
of this kind are costly and the benefit from them
only felt after the lapse of a few years, the Gov-
ernment should grant the lessees of such rivers as
these, liberal conditions and longer leases. To
show what can be done by judicious management,
I will cite the case of the Jupitagan. When Dr.
A. B. Johnson leased it some years ago there
were very few fish in it. He only killed about ten
salmon during his' first season. He set to work
and bought the net-fishing rights near the en-
SALMON RIVERS 363
trance, thus removing an obstruction and at the
same time ensuring a supply of fish for breeding.
At present he gets more fish in one day than he
did before in a whole season. What was done
there can be repeated elsewhere. I look upon a
salmon river just as I do upon a piece of land.
The latter has a capacity for raising a certain
number of bushels of grain, etc. If you do not
get that amount of crop it must be that it is either
badly cultivated or overgrown with weeds. A
river has a capacity for a certain quantity of
fish. When you do hot get that, there is a cause
for it.
Some years ago Mr. Alex. Laurie, of Quebec,
who fishes the Laval river, asked me why it was
that they seldom got any small fish on that
stream. It is really noted for its large salmon.
My answer was that I thought only the big ones
had a chance to survive there, all the smaller fish
being gobbled up. The river only runs a few
miles and then forms a good sized lake, which is
infested with pike, some of them of enormous
size. I found one dead pike in the spring of
1898 on the mud flats of Laval Bay that must
have weighed nearly forty pounds. It had a pair
of jaws like an alligator and could have taken in
a ten pound salmon. If there are many such fish
in the lake above referred to, it is no wonder that
small fish are seldom seen there.
Few rivers on the North Shore can compare
364 SALMON RIVERS
with the '"Bersimis" as a salmon river, and for
size of its fish only the **Moisie'* can approach
it. In 1860 it was granted by the Government
with a certain amount of land, to the Montagnais
Indians, as a reserve. They are under no restric-
tions of any kind as to the fishing of it. Spear-
ing, however, is the favorite method of taking
fish, although a few do set nets in the early part
of the season when the water is high and fish just
beginning to enter. Towards the end of July
all the nets are taken up and spearing begins in
earnest. This is carried on all through the sum-
mer and till late in the fall, in fact right up to the
time that the ice sets in. Of course at this late
season all the spearing is carried on at the spawn-
ing grounds. During the first years of the Re-
serve it was no unusual thing for one canoe to
bring in forty to fifty salmon, the product of one
night's spearing.
The Montagnais Indians have an annual feast
on the 15th of August, to which I have had the
honor of being invited several times. This is
a religious festival as well, and most of the wed-
dings take place on that day. On one particular
occasion, (1871), there were to be some fourteen
or fifteen couples united, and great preparations
were made. The old Chief of the Montagnais,
Jean Baptiste Estlo, had organized a spearing
party in which forty-seven canoes took part and
over nine hundred salmon were speared that
SALMON RIVERS 365
night, which I estimated at about eighteen thou-
sand pounds weight, as no small fish are speared.
For many years this went on without any appar-
ent decrease in the number of salmon, but three
or four years after the establishment of the Ber-
simis Lumber Mills by Messrs. Girouard & Beau-
det, a falling off was noticed. The Indians
placed the blame on the mill owners, and these in
their turn said that the Indians were themselves
to blame by their continual spearing on the
spawning beds. There is no doubt that both con-
tributed to the decrease. In any case, from an
annual yield of about eighty thousand pounds
of salmon, the production dropped to twenty
thousand, which is about the figure at the present
day.
Last year (1908) I had a talk with the present
Chief — ^Moise — and he seemed to think that sal-
mon have increased during the past few years,
that is to say since the mills were closed. The
present value of the salmon taken at Bersimis by
the Indians for local consumption and sale is
about one thousand dollars a year. Now, I am
quite sure that this river could be made to yield
double that amount of revenue if the Indian De-
partment at Ottawa were at all willing to deviate
from the old rut. There are some fine tributar-
ies and two nice pools on the river that would rent
for far more than the value of the fish that the
Indians get out of the river. The Indians would
366 SALMON RIVERS
consent to such an arrangement provided, of
course, that the rental went to them, for I have
made personal enquiries of them. The Indian
Department states with pride in its report that
the Montagnais Indians are almost self-support-
ing. If it is the aim to make them so, why not
allow their river to be rented and make them still
more so?
I wonder if the Department knows what a bur-
den the Indians are to the settlers and others on
the coast, since this so-called period of self-sup-
port has set in.
A couple of years ago we had an old Indian
widow that was left behind by her relatives when
they left for their winter hunt. They were too
poor to supply her with provisions for the win-
ter. In fact they could not get enough for them-
selves, so she was left with practically nothing to
eat. To add to her troubles a sick child was left
with her. For a while the old woman toiled,
making sealskin shoes and other little jobs of that
kind, but this was of short duration owing to the
limited demands of the small population. When
winter came she was cared for by a charitable per-
son, who had very little to spare himself. The
old woman felt this very keenly and one day she
asked me whether I could not obtain some help for
her from the Indian Agency. I promised that I
would try lo do so and on my return home I wired
the Indian Agent, giving him the details of the
SALMON RIVERS 367
case. Next day I received an answer to give her
**four pounds of lard and half a barrel of flour
and advise her not to waste anything!'* About
four dollars worth of provisions to keep her and
her child through the whole winter 1 I know of a
number of similar cases. If these are the general
lines of the relief given by the Agents, it is no
wonder that these Indians are classed as self-sup-
porting.
I trust that some day the Bersimis Indians will
receive the full benefit of their river in the manner
I have suggested, not only from the rental that it
would bring them, but also in the way of employ-
ment by anglers, as guides and canoemen, at
which all of them are experts.
Formerly, immense numbers of the harbor seal
used to ascend this river to the first falls, causing
great destruction. But now, owing to the con-
tinual hunting and shooting carried on by a large
number of Indians in the vicinity, the natural
enemies of the salmon are very few on this stream.
Possibly some wealthy and influential angler can
find means of obtaining some concessions on this
river from the Indian Department. If so, I
think the sport he would get will well repay his
trouble, for the fish are there and fine ones, too.
i^almon 3Rtcorte on
^■Khe following is the score, considered a record
%hl/ one at that date, of the fly-fishing on the
River St. John, Gulf of St. Lawrence, during the
season of 1871. This river is now the property of
Mr. J. J. Hill, the railway magnate of the West :
Salmon lbs.
Mr. Alexander Dennistoun, of Mon-
treal 185 2099
Mr. Thomas Havemeyer, of New
York 116 1258
Mr. Post, of New York 45 587
Mr. Harriotte, of New York 30 310
Mr. J. J. Redpath, of Montreal 40 501
Totals 416 4755
The individual scores in detail were as follows :
Datb
Fish
SALMON RECORDS
MR. DEMNI8T0UN
Weights lbs.
369
June, 23
2
n
24
3
u
26
7
tt
27
7
a
28
11
tt
29
18
tt
30
5
July.
1
10
tt
3
12
tt
4
11
tt
5
8
tt
6
15
tt
7
3
II
8
6
tt
10
8
tt
11
8
tt
12
10
tt
13
6
tt
14
3
tt
17
24
tt
18
8
12,7.
19, 16, 8.
14, 11, 9, 10, 7, 19, 8.
17, 17, 10, 10, 10, 9, 7.
5, 8, 8, 9, 10, 23, 20, 12, 10, 9, 8.
17, 19, 10, 12, 9, 11, 11, 9, 10, 18, 10, 10, 8, 9, 10, 11, 9, 10.
9, 11, 12, 14, 6.
18, 14, 9, 10, 11, 19, 9, 8, 11, 6.
10, 10, 11, 10, 8, 10, 8, 10, 8, 8, 11, 9.
20, 21, 18, 17, 10, 11, 17, 10, 8, 8, 7.
21, 20, 10, 10, 10, 11, 8, 8.
23, 11,:^11, 9, 8, 7, 8, 10, 16, 10, 8, 11, 9, 10, 8.
7,9,11.
11, 11, 10, 10, 9, 8.
9, 10, 10, 17, 8, 8, 9, 8.
20, 21, 10, 10, 9, 10, 10, 9.
21, 13, 23, 10, 10, 10, 19, 19, 11, 10.
21, 13, 11, 13, 11, 10.
9, 11, 13.
10, 11, 10, 9, 9, 9, 10, 9, 10, 11, 19, 10, 18, 11, 11, 8, 10,
10, 10, 18, 17, 19, 17.
11, 21, 11, 10, 10, 8, 7, 11.
370
SALMON RECORDS
MR. HAVEMEYER
Datb
Fish
Weights Ibfl.
June, 27
1
8.
" 28
13
9, 9, 8, 17, 14, 12, 9, 9, 10, 11, 9, 9, 7.
" 29
6
9, 9, 11, 11, 10, 10.
" 30
5
12,10,7,9,9.
July, 1
4
20, 13, 11, 8.
" 3
11
9, 9, 10, 11, 12, 9, 10, 8, 11, 11, 10.
" 4
5
12, 10, 9, 9, 11.
" 6
4
26,10,8,8.
" 6
9
10,10,10,8,6,8,9,9,13.
II 7
4
23,11,9,8.
" 8
8
24, 11, 11, 18, 8, 10, 8, 8.
" 10
2
11, 17.
" 11
10
21, 9, 8, 10, 9, 12, 9, 8, 11, 18.
" 12
10
8, 10, 11, 11, 10, 7, 9, 10, 10, 11.
" 13
6
20, 12, 13, 10, 11.
" 14
6
10, 10, 12, 26, 10, 12.
" 16
3
10, 12, 15.
u 17
6
10, 10, 10, 10, 8, 13.
" 18
4
9, 12, 10, 10.
SALMON RECORDS
371
MR. POST
Datb
Fish
Weights lbs.
June, 28
1
8.
tt
20
1
9.
u
30
2
18, 18.
July,
4
2
11, 12.
U
,6
1
8.
tt
6
4
9, 10, 9, 10.
tt
7
2
8,10.
tt
8
2
8,21.
tt
10
1
21.
tt
11
1
12.
tt
12
10
20, 19, 13, 11, 9, 8, 21, 16, 9, 8.
tt
13
3
20, 11, 9,
It
14
2
10,9.
tt
15
4
10, 11, 13, 14.
it
17
5
22,10,16,8,22.
tt
18
4
26, 13, 8, 9.
372
SALMON RECORDS
MR. J. J. REOPATH
Datb
Fiflh
Weights lbs.
June, 27
2
10, 12.
it
28
2
9,20.
ti
29
2
12, 10.
it
30
2
24,19.
July,
1
4
12,10,9,8.
If
3
8
7, 8, 9, 10, 22, 6, 10, 17.
l(
4
3
11, 10, 8.
tt
5
2
8,9.
it
6
1
8.
U
7
2
11, 11.
it
12
3
9, 12, 16.
u
13
4
25, 19, 19, 19.
it
15
1
8.
It
17
2
10,8.
tt
18
2
17,20.
SALMON RECORDS
373
MR. HARRIOTTE
Datx
Fish
WdghtB lbs.
June, 24
1
0.
" 20
3
11,0,0.
" 30
6
21, 15, 10, 10, 18.
July, 1
2
10, 14.
" 3
5
11,10,10,8,7.
" 4
3
0,0,8.
u 7
2
11,0.
" 11
1
0.
" 12
6
0,0,0,8,8,0.
" 17
2
13, 10.
Mr. Dennistoxin was the only one of the party
who had any experience in angling; all the others
were new hands. Mr. Havemeyer's scx)re was
really an exceptionally good one for a beginner.
As will be noticed, the fishing began about ten
days at least later than it should have done, to
get the full benefit of the river, and when the
party left, fish were still abundant and taking the
fly well. The late Mr. Dennistoun, from whom I
got this record many years ago, was of the opin-
ion that five good rods could easily have scored
one thousand salmon that year by fishing through
the whole season.
874
SALMON RECORDS
A record of sixteen days* fishing on the River
Moisie, by the late Mr. John Brown, then of
Hamilton, Ont., published by the Daily Spec-
tator. (Hamilton, C.W.), July 24th, 1869:
Datb
Fish
Weights lbs.
Total IbB.
June, 19
" 21
" 22
" 23
a 24
" 26
" 28
" 30
July, 1
" 2
" 3
" 6
"^ 7
" . 8
" 9
1
5
2
6
9
6
14
10
14
16
8
6
10
4
16
12
11.
10,12,11,10,10
20,8
10,23,22,22,11,19
12,9,22,28,24,21,14,20,11.
19,20,26,11,20,18
18, 13, 21, 19, 26, 19, 12, 11, 22, 13, 37, 20,
22,29
10, 23, 12, 20, 23, 28, 15, 11, 12, 10.
11, 12, 22, 9, 12, 24, 11, 12, 20, 23, 15, 20,
12,12
13, 16, 21, 22, 23^ 22, 19, 10, 25, 11, 20, 22, 21,
11,24,11
25, 24, 30, 20, 24, 11, 30, 22
10,11^17,20,11
23, 23, 11, 21, 20, 13, 22, 21, 12, 20.
24,10,24,21
23, 24, 10, 17, 9, 26, 10, 19, 22, 11, 16, 21, 9,
23, 10, 10
12, 23, 19, 11, 21, 24, 21, 14, 20, 8, 11, 24.
11
53
28
107
161
114
281
164
215
291
186
69
186
79
260
208
16 Days, 138 Salmon weighing.
Average nearly 17 1-2 pounds.
.2413
SALMON RECORDS 376
j^almim lEitmth, ffLttisu ^ibtx, 1871
Record of salmon angling with fly on **Moisie'*
by three rods, July, 1871 :
Fish lbs
Mr. John Brown, of Hamilton 200 3676
Mr. John Ogilvy, of Montreal 87 1511
Mr. Thos. Ogilvy, Brechan, Scot-
land 38 692)^
Totals 325 5879^
It is worthy of note in this connection that the
first named gentleman of the above party, Mr.
John Brown, of Hamilton, was one of the earliest
fly-fishermen on the North Shore of the St. Law-
rence, or at all events one of the first to whip- the
now famous Moisie river for salmon.
He was a brother of Mr. Adam Brown, ex-
M.P., for some time President of the Dominion
Board of Trade, and later. Postmaster of Hamil-
ton, Ont.
A snap shot picture of Mr. John Brown, taken
a few years before his death, appears in this
book, facing page 66.
Mr. Brown was an old friend of Messrs. Fraser
and HoUiday, the original proprietors of the sal-
mon netting privileges on the Moisie.
The individual scores of Mr. Brown and his
companions for 1871 were as follows : —
876
SALMON RECORDS
MR. BROWN
Datb
FSoh
Weighte Ibe.
July, 3
5
10, 19, 19, 11, 271.
" 4
2
35,20.
" 6
16
20, 24, 21, 21, 16, 231, 19}, 9, 22, 31), 12, 31, 19, 10, 25,21
" 6
10
28, 26, 23, 11, 19, 20, 13, 24, 20, 23.
" 7
21
23, 25, 21, 23, 18, 10, 20, 12, 10, 14, 22, 24, 9, 25, 9, 28,
21, 20, 21, 21, 11.
" 8
21
10, 11, 22, 21, 21, 11, 23, 24, 32, 10, 27, 19, 12, 19, 26,
20, 10, 26, 20, 12, 20.
" 10
2
26,17.
" 11
8
25, 21, 25, 13, 24, 29, 9, 10.
" 12
13
10, 10, 24, 24, 30, 25, 23, 23, 10, 20, 10, 21, 11.
" 13
14
20, 19, 17, 21, 22, 20, 13, 18, 11, 11, 31, 24, 10, 24.
" 14
12
22, 18, 23, 23, 10, 25, 21, 21, 22, 22, 10, 10.
" 17
11
11, 25, 23, 9, 19, 21, 23, 18, 11, 8, 22.
" 18
20
22, 23, 22, 20, 10, 11, 18, 25, 20, 22, 10, 25, 23, 22, 21,
10, 14, 12, 9, 22.
" 19
11
11, 25, 9, 20, 10, 26, 11, 23, 29, 11, 9.
" 20
13
21, 12, 12, 22, 10, 9, 21, 23, 21, 24, 20, 22, 27.
" 21
7
10,22,9,20,20,10,22.
" 22
14
21, 17, 8, 23, 9, 11, 24, 9, 10, 21, 8, 21, 11, 10.
Total : 200 Salmon. Average : 18 lbs. and 6 oz.
SALMON RECORDS
377
Mr. Brown's score was really 202 fish, two hav-
ing been caught on the Sunday morning for use of
the party and their men and not counted. The
party had arrived in camp on Saturday, July 1st,
and these were killed on the second. The weights
were 10 and 21 lbs. On the 15th Mr. Brown's
friends left, for business reasons, and he went
down the river to see them off, losing that day's
fishing. On the 23rd July, when he himself left,
the fishing was still at its height, as shown by his
score of the day previous. The year 1871 seems to
have been an exceedingly good one on all our
northern rivers. The waters were very high
early in the season.
MR. JOHN OQILVY'8 SCORE
Datb
Fiflh
Weights lbs.
Jujy, 3
4
22, 21, 31, 24.
' 4
3
21, 11, 10.
^
' 6
14
16, 22, 21, 23, 11, 22, 21, 20, 11, 21, 21, 20, lOJ,
10.
' 6
2
18, 19.
' 7
6
19, 20, 22, 11, 24, 8.
' 8
11
20, 14, 8, 19, 22, 24, 11, 18, 25, 36, 11.
' 10
4
21, 18, 12, 8.
' 11
7
21, 17, 22, 10, 16, 26, 9.
' 12
12
17, lOi, 20, 19, 11, 17, 8, 24, 18, 8, 10, 29.
' 13
11
18, 23, 22, 9, 20, 9, 18, 12, 34, 17, 24. '
' 14
11
22, 11, 9, 11, 20, 20, 16, 23, 11, 8, 16.
' 16
2
19,9. Left at 8 A.M. for Montreal.
Total : 87 Salmon. Average : 17 Iba. 5} oa.
378 SALMON RECORDS
MB. THOMAS OGILVY'S SCORE
Datb
Fiflh
Weights Ibe.
July, 3
1
8.
u 7
6
9, 23, 10, 12J, 23, 24.
" 8
5
22, 27, 24, 9, 30.
" 11
8
10, 25, 21, 11, 20, 9, 21, 9.
" 12
12
26, 19, 20, 18, 11, 17, 9, 10, 23, 22, 23, 23.
" 14
6
26, 21, 18, 20, 20, 20.
Total : 38 Salmon, Average 18 lbs. 3i oz.
Measurements of all the largest fish were taken
to see how length would correspond with weight,
but it was found to vary too much to be a reliable
guide. As an example, one fish of 24 lbs meas-
ured 40 inches; two of 25 lbs the same, and one of
30 lbs, ditto. One of 22 lbs measured 39 inches.
The longest fish of the lot measured 46 inches
and weighed 35 lbs.
Srottt Htber fUcorli
The following is a record of a score made on
this small stream by Mr. Charles Stewart Davi-
son, of New York. I merely give it to show what
might be done on many such small streams if pro-
perly fished and weU cared for. There is no
doubt that this particular one could be improved
with time and with small expense :
SALMON RECORDS
1908
379
Datb
Fish
Weights lbs.
Total each day
June, 26
" 27
" 20
" 30
July, 1
" 2
" 3
" 4
" 8
" 9
" 10
" 11
" 12
" 13
" 14
" 16
" 16
11,13
11
13,11,13,20
13
12,11
13
12
20
10
14
13, 10, 22, 11, 16.
10
14,13
12
12, 12, 14
21
11
24 lbs,
11 "
67 "
13 "
23 "
13 "
12 "
20 "
10 "
14 "
72 "
10 "
27 "
12 "
38 "
21 "
11 "
Total : 29 Salmon weighing 388 lbs.
Add five grilse : 4, 6, 4, 4, 6 lbs 23 "
Total weight 411 "
The above score was very kindly given me by
Mr. Davison on his return from his fishing that
season. The fishing might have begun ten days
earlier and ended two weeks later. This small
river was generally considered heretofore as not
worth fishing.
fittp gearg^ Salmon
^t<||tng on ttie ^obboot
^■Khrough the courtesy of the proprietors of the
^u/ sahnpn fishing on the Godbout, I am per-
mitted to give a statement of fifty years' sahnon
fishing on the River Godbout, from 1859 to 1908
inclusive, and did space permit, I might have
given the weight of every fish caught in the river
during the last 45 years, with the name of its
captor.
The following is a statement of the salmon tak-
en with the rod at River Godbout during the sea-
sons 1859 to 1863 inclusive : —
FnisT Fish
Last Fish
No. of
Fish
No. of
Rods
July 11,1869
July 25
167
Three..
Much Bain.
June 18, 1860
July 27
47
Two...
Diy weather.
June 7,1861
July 24
252
Four...
Much Rain— floods.
June 12, 1862
July 18
279
Three..
2 Grilse.
June 8,1863
July 28
194
Three..
Wet Weather.
(Note by the Author.) — 1860 was my first
year as Guardian of the Godbout. The anglers
were Dr. Adamson and Captain Holyoake. The
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 381
small score was due more to a rising of the In-
dians than to the weather, and salmon were
speared almost daily in the pools. In 1861 the
party was composed of Dr. Adamson, Capt.
Holyoake, Col. Charteris and Major Howard.
My duties as Guardian only began when the party
left the river. Owing to a strong wind which de-
layed my arrival I did not meet them, so I have
no record of who were Dr. Adamson's guests that
year. In 1863 the anglers were Dr. Adamson,
Capt. Holyoake and Robert Hare Powell, of
Philadelphia, Penn., U.S.A.
1864
In 1864 the river was fished by Messrs. J. Law,
A. Gilmour and Robert Hare Powell. The Rev.
Dr. Wm. Agar Adamson, author of **Salmon
Fishing in Canada,'' was a guest on the river, but
did not fish. Between the 23rd June and the
19th July, both days inclusive, Mr. Law fished
20 days and killed 61 fish, Mr. Gilmour 18 days,
killing 46 fish, and Mr. Powell 20 days, with a
score of 57. Total, 164 fish, weighing 1,518 lbs.
Mr. J. Law's largest fish weighed 20 pounds, Mr.
Allan Gilmour's 19 pounds, and Mr. Powell's,
18 pounds.
1865
In 1865 some excellent scores were made on the
Godbout.
The river was fished by Captain Noble, Mr. A.
382 FIFTY YEARS'. SALMON FISHING Ac.
Cross, Mr. J. Law and Mr. Allan Gilmour.
The season during which the members of the
party fished was from June 17th to July 14th.
On the 10th July, Mr. Allan Gilmour killed no
less than 46 salmon, weighing 426 pounds. On
the 5th July he killed 30, weighing 306 pounds,
and on the 30th June ten fish weighing 87 pounds.
His total score for the season was 165 salmon.
Captain Noble killed 49 salmon, his best day's
score having been ten fish on the 7th July. He
had to his credit one salmon of twenty poimds.
Mr. Law's score was 154 salmon, including two
fish of 23 pounds each and one of 21. His two
best days' score were fifteen and sixteen fish res-
pectively.
Mr. A. Cross had to his credit a total of 109
fish, his three best days having given him 21, 16
and 12 fish respectively.
The total catch of the season was 477 fish, aver-
aging close upon ten pounds, and making a total
weight of 4,690 pounds.
1866
The catch with rod and line during the season
from June 16th to July 21st was 526 fish, weigh-
ing 5,158 pounds.
The anglers during that season were Messrs.
Allan Gilmour, J. Dykes, D. Law and J. Law.
Mr. Allan Gilmour again made the best score, a
total of 207 fish, of which four single days gave
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 383
him 23, 21, 20 and 18. Three of his fish weighed
26, 25 and 23 pounds respectively.
Mr. Dykes killed 75 salmon, his best day giving
him ten fish.
Mr. D. Law only fished a portion of the season
and scored 46 salmon.
Mr. J. Law had 46 fish to his credit, his best
days having been 24 on the 9th July, weighing
234 pounds, 12 on the 16th, weighing 96 pounds,
13 on the 2nd, weighing 156 pounds, 11 on June
9th, and ten each on two other days.
1867
In 1867 the Godbout was fished by a party con-
sisting of Mr. Allan Gilmour, Dr. Adamson,
James Law and Mr. Gilmour, Jr.
The scores of these gentlemen, in the order in
which their names have been mentioned, were
165, 89, 123 and 50 salmon respectively, making a
total of 427 fish, weighing 4,667 pounds.
Several very excellent days' fishing were had
during this season. On July 1st, the date of the
birth of the Dominion of Canada, Mr. A. Gil-
mour killed 13 fish weighing 146 pounds, and Dr.
Adamson an equal number weighing 129 pounds.
On the 11th July, Mr. A. Gilmour's score was 26
fish; on the 6th, 21, while another day's sport
brought him 11 fish, and 10 was his score on three
other occasions. The 11 fish killed by him on the
2nd of July included two of 23 pounds each and
384 FIFTY YEARS* SALMON^ FISHING Ac.
one of 22 pounds. The largest salmon killed on
the river during the season was, however, the 28-
pounder caught by Dr. Adamson on the 21st of
June.
Mr. James Law and Mr. Gilmour, jr., each
had a day of ten salmon killed.
1868
There were only three anglers in the Godbout
party in 1868, and they remained but a short sea-
son on the river, so that the total score for the
year was but 273 fish. The average weight was
very good, however, being about eleven and a
quarter pounds, making a total of 3,066 poimds.
Messrs. AUan Gilmour, A. Cross and W. M.
Ramsay comprised the fishing party, and they
only fished from June 15th to July 3rd.
Mr. Gilmour, as usual, made the top scores,
killing on his best days 23, 14, 13, 12 and 12
respectively, and a total of 113 fish.
Mr. Ramsay who made a total score of 67,
killed 19 salmon on the 30th of June, and Mr.
Cross getting, on his three best days, 18, 16 and
16 respectively, and 93 in all.
1869
That of 1869 was a very big season for the
Lairds of the Godbout. Three Gilmours were
among the party of four that fished the river that
year: Mr. Allan Gilmour, of Ottawa; Mr. Gil-
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING &e. 386
mour, of Quebec, and Mr. John Gilmour (now
Sir John Gilmour), of Glasgow. The fourth
member of the party was Mr. D. Law, of Mon-
treal.
The fishing commenced on the 16th of June
with a score of 11 fish for the four rods, and ended
on the 17th of July.
No less than 515 salmon fell victims to the ang-
ling skill of the Godbout party that year, with a
total weight of 5,493 pounds.
Fish of 24 and 22 pounds and a number of 20
pounds and thereabouts were killed by Mr. Allan
Gilmour in 1869, but the heaviest salmon of the
year on the river fell to the rod of Mr. Gilmour,
of Quebec, and weighed 28 pounds.
Mr. Gilmour, of Glasgow, had to his credit fish
of 26, 24, 23 and 21 pounds, but no salmon
weighing more than eighteen pounds trusted him-
self that year to the tender mercies of Mr. Law.
Mr. Law's total score was 87 fish; that of Mr.
Gilmour of Quebec, 125, while Mr. Allan Gil-
mour scored 139, and his Scotch kinsman topped
the list with 164 to his credit.
There were some good individual days' sport
that year, Mr. Gilmour, of Glasgow, getting 23,
20 and 14 respectively on three different days.
Mr. Allan Gilmour's best days that year gave
him 16, 14, 12, 11, 11, 10, 10 and 10.
Mr. Law made a score of 14 on the 3rd of July
and one of 12 on the 8th.
386 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING &c.
1870
Five anglers were included in the Godbout par-
ty of 1870, namely. Dr. CampbeU, A. Urquhart,
Mr. Allan Gilmour, Mr. D. Law and Mr. C. F.
Smith.
The river was fished for exactly a month, from
the 16th of June to the 16th July, and the score
was 399 fish weighing 4,349 pounds.
It should be mentioned, however, that Mr.
Smith only fished for the last nine days of the sea-
son, his contribution to the total score having been
15 salmon.
Mr. Gilmour had a 27 pound fish to his credit
and Mr. Law one of 25. A number of fish of 23
and 21 pounds were also taken.
Dr. Campbell kiUed 111 fish, Mr. Law 101, Mr.
Gilmour 91, and Mr. Urquhart 81.
Dr. Campbell's best days gave him 15, 11 and
10 fish respectively, Mr. Urquhart's 10 and 9,
Mr. Gilmour's 16 and 13, and Mr. Law's 13
and 9.
1871
Of the 509 salmon killed in the river in 1871,
Mr. D. Gilmour, of Quebec, took 120; Mr. D. Law,
Montreal, 140; Mr. A. Gilmour, Ottawa, 102;
Mr. A. Cross, Montreal, 54; and Mr. A. T. Pat-
terson, Montreal, 93.
Mr. Cross, however, only fished from the 15th
of June to the 1st of July inclusive, and Mr. D.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING 4o. 387
GilmouT, of Quebec, left on the 8th of July.
The other members of the party fished up to the
•th of July inclusive.
Mr. Allan Gilmour had three days of ten fish
each and one of twelve, in 1871, while Mr. Law's
best days gave him 19, 12 and 11 fish respectively.
Mr.. D. Gilmour had scores of 13, 12, 11 and
10 for his best four days of the season, but by far
the best daily scores were those of Mr. A. T. Pat-
terson, who only commenced fishing on the 6th of
July and killed 22 salmon on the 7th, 18 on the
12th and 20 on the 14th.
1872
Mr. Allan Gilmour, of Ottawa; Mr. D. Law,
of Montreal; Mr. D. B. Meigs, of Jersey City^
and Captain Dick, of Toronto, fished the God-
bout in 1872, but from the 20th of June to the
9th July only. Captain Dick only fished for the
last two days, getting 16 salmon, and Mr. Meigs
was only on the river about ten days. His total
was 34 fish, of which 12 were the result of one
day's fishing.
Mr. Law's score was .99 fish and Mr. Gilmour's
68.
The total was a score of 217 salmon weighing
2,346 pounds.
The biggest individual scores for a day's fish-
ing this season were 14, 12, 12, 11, 11, 11, 11, 11,
10 and 10.
388 FIFTY YEARBl SALMON FISHING 4o.
1873.
Lord and Lady Dufferin visited the Godbout in
1873 as guests of the proprietors, and enjoyed a
couple of days' fishing. Their Excellencies cap-
tured three salmon on the 26th of June, weighing
10, 11 and 10 pounds respectively, and four on
the foDowing day, of 10, 9, 10 and 11 pounds res-
pectively.
Mr. G. Denholm, of Montreal, fished the river
from the 4th to the. 12th of July, and only three
rods were on it throughout the entire short season
which commenced the 19th June, namely, those of
Mr. Allan Gilmour, Ottawa, and Messrs. A.
Cross and R. Muir, of Montreal.
Mr. Allan Gilmour had one remarkably good
day, killing 25 fish on the 30th of June. Other-
wise there were no particularly large catches that
year.
The total score of Mr. Gilmour was 50 and that
of Mr. Cross, 55. The season's total was excep-
tionally small, having been 132 salmon, weighing
1,491 pounds.
1874
The visitors to the Godbout in 1874 spent only
a few days on the river, and fished from the 26th
of June to the 7th of July. In those few days,
273 salmon were killed, weighing 2,067 pounds.
The members of the party were Messrs. Allan
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac.
389
Gilmour, Ottawa; D. Law, Montreal; Rev. D. M.
Gordon, Ottawa, and Mr. R. W. Shepherd, Mon-
treal.
Mr. Law had some exceptionally good days'
sport, with scores of 24, 17, 14, 13, 12, 11 and 10.
Rev. Mr. Gordon caught 20 salmon on the 7th
July.
The heaviest fish of the season, one of 29 pounds,
was killed by Mr. D. Law on the 6th of July.
Mr. Shepherd kiUed one of 25 pounds on the 2nd
of July.
After the departure of the visiting anglers,
the river was fished by the author of this book,
when the following scores were made : —
Date
Weiglits of Fish
Total
Weidiit
July 8
"
7
67
25
34
40
12, 13, 14, 9, 10, 6, 16
80
10, 16, 9, 18, 14, 11, 9, 10, 11, 9, 11, 11, 10,
10, 10, 9, 10, 10, 14, 8, 11, 9. 9, 9, 11, 12,
8, 10, 11, 12, 8, 11, 11, 8, l6, 12, 11 11
10, 8, 12, 8, 11, 12. 18, 13, 10, 9, 9, 17, 24,
20. 9, 11, 10. 9. 10
634
282
361
438
" 10
" 11
9, 9, 10, 14, 21, 9, 9, 8, 11, 11, 9, 17, 9, 10,
16, 23. 7, 11. 7, 10. 9, 13, 8, 8,' 14.'..:..;
10, 11, 10, 9, 11. 9, 10, 10, 12, 11, 8, 9, 12,
12, 8, 10, 10, 29, 13, 9, 8, 10, 9. 11, 8, 12,
10 8 9, 11, 10, 9, 11, 12. ...........
" 13
11, 8, 13, 9, 8, 9, 19, 10, 12, 11, 14, 11, 7, 10,
9, 16, 9, 14, 10, 8, 12, 11, 9, 11, 9, 11, 12,
10, 8, 12, 11, 12, 18, 11, 12, 11, 11, 11, 9
10
31N) FIFTY TEARS' SALMON FISHING &e.
Dati
Weic^tt of Fbh
Total
July 14.
" 15.
" 16.
17.
18.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
27.
28.
31.
25
16
37
16
28
27
13
20
9, 10, 10, 11, 10, 8, 11, 12, 10, 8, 11, 12, 11,
9, 9, 14, 10, 8, 10, 11, 10, 10, 10, 11, 10,
11,11,9
360
7, 9. 8, 10, 9, 10, 10, 11, 12, 8, 11, 9, 18, 10,
10, 14, 12, 13, 11, 9, 11, 10, 9, 8, 9. . . .
11, 11, 9, 15, 10, 10, 10, 9, 11, 11, 12, 11, 12,
9, 11, 10
12, 8, 10, 13, 11, 10, 12, 13, 12, 10, 10, 7, 12,
20, 8, 9, 11, 11, 12, 10, 10, 8, 8, 10, 9, 13,
9, 9, 9, 12, 13, 11, 10, 12, 11, 9, 10. . . .
10, 11, 12, 12, 9, 25, 10, 11, 10, 13, 10, 13, 8,
9,11,9
10, 11, 13, 11, 10, 8, 9, 9, 11, 7, 10, 11, 10,
11, 9, 10, 9, 12, 11, 11, 12, 11, 9, 9, 9, 10,
10
12, 12, 11, 11, 11, 9, 10, 7, 7, 8, 7, 10, 9. . .
10, 10, 12, 8, 8, 9, 12, 9,7, 9, 10, 8, 12, 1 2
12,12,8,10,12
10, 9, 11, 11, 12, 10.
10,10,10
12,12,9
10,9
Qrilae, average 3 425 lb6.
258
172
394
183
286
273
124
198
63
19
9
360 Salmon, average 10 64; 100 lbs. = 3830 lbs.
18 days fiahini^ caught 360 Salmon, or an average of 20 each daj
during the whole time.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 391
1875
The season of 1875 was a short one on the river
and the Godbout house party a small one. Only
three composed the party, Messrs. D. Law, R. W.
Shepherd and Robert Muir, all of Montreal.
They only fished from the 28th of June to the 8th
of July, but made some good individual scores.
Mr. Law killed 20 in one day and 16 in another.
Mr. Muir killed 14 in one day and 12 in another.
In the ten days' fishing, the three rods killed
177 fish weighing 1,936 pounds, and on the 10th
of July Messrs. McNab, Molson and party were
invited to fish and killed eight salmon weighing
76 pounds, and Mr. Comeau killed four fish
weighing 45 pounds. These are not included in
the number and weights above given for the sea-
son, to which Mr. Law contributed 81 salmon,
Mr. Shepherd 41, and Mr. Muir, 55.
1876
Several rods whipped the Godbout in the sea-
son of 1876, but it was not remarkable for large
scores.
The season opened on the 19th of June and
closed on the 15th of July.
Mr. Law left the river after the first eight
days' fishing, and Mr. Shepherd left half a dozen
days later. Mr. C. F. Smith, of Quebec, and Mr.
Anderson, of India, spent the last ten days of the
302 FIFTY TEARS' SALMON FISHING Ae.
angling season on the river. Each of them killed
ten fish.
The total score was 227 fish, weighing 3,017
pounds, 60 of the salmon having been killed by
Mr. A. Dennistown, of Montreal; 52 by Mr. Allan
Gilmour; 40 by Mr. John Manuel, Ottawa; 28 by
Mr. Law; 13 by Mr. Shepherd, and after the vis-
itors had left, 11 by Mr. Comeau and 3 by Mr.
McNab.
1877
The fly-fishing in 1877 showed much better re-
turns than in the preceding year. The river was
only whipped from the 15th of June to the 13th
of July, but yielded 395 salmon, weighing 4,464
pounds.
Messrs. Allan Gilmour, of Ottawa, Mr. C. F.
Smith, of Quebec, and Mr. J. Manuel, of Ottawa,
were the first three anglers on the river, the three
others. Rev. D. M. Gordon, Judge Henry and
Col. Irwin only arriving nine days before the
party closed the season.
The respective scores were: Mr. Allan Gil-
mour, 114; Mr. C. F. Smith, 61; Mr. John Man-
uel, 144; Rev. Mr. Gordon, 18; Judge Henry,
32, and Col. Irwin, 26.
Mr. Allan Gilmour and Mr. John Manuel each
killed twenty salmon in one day during the season
of 1877.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING 4o. 39B
1878
There were several guests on the river this sea-
soii» including the Hon. Alexander Mackenzie,
then Prime Minister of the Dominion. Mr. Mac-
kenzie made but a short stay upon the river. He
killed two fish on the 20th June and three on the
21st.
Bev. Mr. Gordon fished during the last five
days of the angling season.
Mr. Law, Mr. Shepherd and Mr. Smith left
early in the season.
Mr. John Manuel was the only angler to fish
throughout the season on the river, namely, from
the 11th of June to the 3rd of July, having to his
score the handsome total for so short a season of
120 fish.
The total angling catch was 239 salmon,
weighing 2,811 lbs.
1879
No less than eight rods whipped the Godbout
for salmon in 1879, for a longer or shorter pe-
riod, namely, Mr. Allan Gilmour, Ottawa; Mr.
Charles Hallock, New York; Mr. Robert Muir,
London, England; Mr. C. F. Smith, Quebec; Mr.
John Manuel, Ottawa; Mr. Fulton, Toronto; Mr.
G. Denholm, Montreal, and Judge Taschereau,
Ottawa. The last mentioned fished after the
others had left the river, and in the six days pre-
394 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING 4c.
ceding the 19th of July, killed 40 salmon, weigh-
ing 446 pounds.
Some members of the fishing party mentioned
above remained but a very short time upon the
river. Thus Mr. Hallock was only there a few
days, killing three fish. Mr. Fulton killed two
fish and Mr. Denholm, three. Mr. C. F. Smith
caught 16 fish, Mr. Allan Gilmour, 19, Mr. Muir,
42, and Mr. John Manuel, Ottawa, made the top
score of the season, 80 fish.
Mr. Comeau, during the season, killed 18 sal-
mon weighing 223 pounds, the total kill of the
season on the river having been 183 salmon, or
2,611 pounds.
1880
Messrs. D. Law and John Manuel commenced
the season's fishing of the Godbout on the 14th
of June, and Mr. Law left on the 2nd of July,
after killing 44 fish.
Mr. Manuel fished until his departure on the
10th of July, making a score of 87 fish.
Rev. Mr. Gordon fished from the 1st to the
10th July, killing 17 fish.
Upon his last day on the river, Mr. Law killed
11 fish.
Mr. Manuel, on the 28th of June, killed 13 fish.
The total score of the river for the season's fish-
ing was 151 fish, weighing 1,955 pounds.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 306
1881
This was one of the poorest seasons on record
on the river.
Mr. Allan Gilmour spent from June 14th to
June 23rd on the river, but did not fish.
Two rods fished for eight days, killing 32 fish
weighing 640 pounds.
The large average of the fish killed was some-
thing remarkable, being twenty pounds. Six fish
killed by Mr. John Manuel on one day, June 16th,
weighed respectively 24, 22, 20, 19, 24 and 29
pounds.
Of the 32 fish killed, 15 feU to the rod of Mr.
D. Law, Montreal, and 17 to Mr. Manuel's.
1882
Mr. Allan Gilmour again headed the Godbout
party, but fished very little, killing but 4 fish.
Mr. Manuel fished from June 16th to 27th and
from July 4th to 18th and killed 180 salmon and
10 grilse. On the 10th July his score was 24
fish; on the 11th, 30; on the 13th, 23; on the 14th,
10; on the 15th, 13; and on the 17th, 16.
Mr. Law fished seven days, getting 17 fish.
The total catch of the season was 263 salmon,
weighing 2,845 pounds, and 11 grilse, averaging
4X lbs. On one day, the 10th July, Mr. Law
killed 17 fish.
The visitors during the season were Napoleon
896 FIFTY TEARS? SALMON FISHING Ac.
A. Comeau (guardian) who killed 39 fish weigh-
ing 435 pounds; Alexander Dennistown^ Mon-
treal, 3 fish weighing 34 pounds; Baron de la
Grange, of Paris, 4 fish weighing 42 pounds;
Vicomte de Talhouet, Paris, 2 fish, 17 lbs., and
Peter MacNaughton, Quebec, 14 fish, weighing
151 pounds.
After the fishing party had left the river, the
Comte de Ses Maisons, Consul-General for France
at Quebec, killed 8 salmon and 5 grilse.
1883
Mr. Allan Gilmour killed 3 salmon this season;
Mr. Manuel, 73, and Mr. D. Law, of Montreal,
18.
The total catch for the river party was 94 fish
weighing 1,339 pounds.
The biggest day's catch was Mr. Manuel's.
He killed 11 fish on the 9th July.
In addition to the above, Mr. N. A. Comeau
(guardian), caught during the season, 12 fish
weighing 176 pounds.
Mr. J. D. Gilmour, Quebec, from the 20th to
the 25th July inclusive, killed 42 fish weighing
475 lbs., and 9 grilse weighing 33 pounds.
Mr. E. J. Hale, of Quebec, had a 12-pounder to
his credit.
Judge Taschereau, of Ottawa, killed 25 salmon
weighing 225 pounds, and 9 grilse weighing 33
pounds.
The visitors brought the score up to 174 salmon
FIFTY YEARS! SALMON FISHING &c. 397
and 21 grilse for the season. The sahnon
weighed in all 2,227 pounds and the grilse aver-
aged 3 9-10 pounds.
1884
Mr. A. Gilmour visited the river, but did not
fish.
Messrs. John Manuel, Ottawa; James Law,
Montreal, and Alex. Campbell, Toronto, com-
posed the river party.
Mr. Campbell spent but two or three days on
the river, killing only a couple of fish.
Of the party's total catch of 194 salmon, Mr.
Manuel's share was 127 and Mr. Law's, 65.
In addition to the above, Mr. N. A. Comeau
killed 68 salmon averaging 10 pounds each.
Mr. Manuel's three best days gave him 17, 12
and 10 fish respectively, and Mr. Law killed 10
on the 16th July.
Mr. Manuel's best three fish weighed 20, 20 and
29 pounds, and Mr. Law's 24, '23 and 21 respec-
tively.
One of Mr. Campbell's two fish was a 28-
pounder.
1885
Mr. A. Gilmour fished 6 days, getting 12 fish.
Two of his fish weighed 23 pounds each and one
^f them 22 pounds.
Messrs. John Manuel and James Law enjoyed
398 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING 4e.
25 days of exoeUent sport on the river this sea-
son.
Mr. Manuel's total was 188 fish and Mr. Law's
106.
Mr. Manuel's best days gave him 19, 15, 9, 8,
12, 18, 16, 13, 10, 9, 10 and 20 fish respectively.
His heaviest fish were 28, 24, 22, 22, 22, 22, 21,
21, 20, 20 and 20 lbs. respectively.
Mr. Law's heaviest were 27, 26, 24, 23, 22, 21,
21, 21, 21, 20 and 20 lbs., and his best days' sport
gave him 14 fish.
The total catch of the season was 309 fish, in-
cluding 3 grilse, weighing together, 3,752 pounds.
1886
Mr. Allan Gilmour again headed the Godbout
party, but did not fish.
Messrs. John Manuel, of Ottawa, and Bobt.
Muir, of Montreal, fished from the 21st June to
the 17th July, and Mr. D. Law, of Montreal,
from the 21st June to the 12th July.
The total catch was 265 salmon weighing 3,488
pounds.
Mr. Manuel's catch was 134 fish, including one
of 28 pounds, one of 23, one of 22, three of 21,
and eleven of 20 pounds. His best catches per
day were 23, 20, 19 and 12.
Mr. Muir killed 70 fish, one of 26 pounds, one
of 24, one of 21 and three of 20 pounds. He
scored 13 in one day and 10 in another.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING &e. 309
Mr. Law killed 61 fish, his best fish weighing
23, 22, 21, 20 and 20 pounds respectively. His
two best days* catches numbered 15 and 11 respec-
tively.
1887
This was Mr. Allan Gilmour's last season upon
the river. He killed his two last salmon on the
11th July.
His companions on the river were Messrs. John
Manuel and James Law. The former killed 90
fish, the latter 68.
Col. Irwin and Captain Irwin fished for a cou-
ple of days each, the former getting four fish, and
the Captain, five.
Mr. Manuel made the top score as usual, name-
ly, 90 fish, including one 30-pounder, one of 26
pounds, one of 25, one of 22 and two of 20. No
very large days' scores were made that year.
Mr. Law got 68 fish, which included one of 25
lbs., one of 24, one of 23, one of 22, two of 21 and
two of 20.
The 169 salmon of the year weighed 2,156
pounds, and ten grilse weighed 44 pounds.
1888
Mr. John Manuel headed the Godbout party
this year, his companions being Mr. James Law
and Mr. Thos. Law.
400 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac.
Their combined score was 369 salmon, 3,991
pounds in all, exclusive of 23 grilse, averaging
close upon four pounds each.
Mr. Manuel's biggest salmon was 20 pounds^
and his total score 133 salmon and 10 grilse. His
best days' sport gave him 14, 12 and 11 pounds
respectively.
Mr. James Law killed 131 fish, his largest ones
having been 24, 24, 21, 21 and 20 pounds respec-
tively. His best day gave him 16 salmon, and he
had two other days of 15 each.
Mr. Thomas Law caught 18 salmon in one day
and 16 on another. His three best fish weighed
20 pounds each, and his total score was 105.
1889
The catch of 231 saknon in 1889 weighed 2,802
pounds, and 31 grilse added 111 pounds to the
total.
The fishing commenced on the 17th June, and
Mr. Manuel fished up to the 18th July. Messrs.
James Law and Thomas Peck, of Montreal, were
with him up to the 6th July, and Mr. W. H.
Blake, of Toronto, from the 1st to the 6th July in-
clusive.
Mr. Blake's score was 13 salmon and a grilse,
Mr. Peck's, 27 salmon and two grilse, Mr. J.
Law's, 61 salmon and 2 grilse, and Mr. Manuel's,
130 salmon and 26 grilse.
FIFTY YEARS'. SALMON FISHING Ac. 401
The 231 salmon weighed 2,802 pounds. On
the 8th of July, Mr. Manuel's catch was eighteen
salmon. His two largest fish of the season were
29 and 27 pounds respectively, but he had also sal-
mon of 25, 23 and 21 pounds each.
1890
This was a good fishing season on the river.
No less than 504 salmon were killed by anglers,
and they weighed 5,350 pounds.
This year, Mr. Law got one more fish than Mr.
Manuel, namely, 190, Mr. Manuel's score being
189.
Mr. Thos. Peck, Montreal, was the third mem-
ber of the angling party and got 125 fish. His
best day on the river gave him 28 fish, and his two
largest salmon weighed 20 pounds each.
Mr. Manuel's best day's catch that season was
17, and Mr. Law's, 30. On another day the lat-
ter mentioned, killed 22.
Mr. Manuel's best fish weighed 26, 25, 24, 24,
22, 22, 21, 21, 21, 21 and 20, and Mr. Law's, 24,
24, 23, 23 and 22.
1891
The Godbout was fished in 1891 from June
20th to July 23rd. The angling party consisted
of Messrs. John Manuel, Ottawa, W. F. Kings-
402 FIFTY TEARS' SALMON FISHING Ae.
miU, of Port Elizabeth, South Africa, and J. B.
Paterson, Montreal.
Their combined catch was 234 salmon, weigh-
ing 2,857 pounds.
Mr. Manuel's catch was 117, Mr. Eingsmill's
51, and Mr. Paterson's 66. No more than 14 fish
were killed on the river this year in a single day,
and the largest individual salmon was one of 28
pounds, killed by Mr. Paterson.
Mr. Eangsmill's largest was 24, and Mr. Man-
uel killed three of 23 pounds each.
1892
The season of 1892 was rather an off one.
Mr. John Manuel fished from June 17th to
July 15th and only killed 68 fish, having four
blank days. His two best days yielded but 8 and
7 fish respectively to his well-handled rod. His
fish were large, however, the weights of the best
having been 27, 26, 23, 23, 22, 22, 22, 22, 22, 22,
21, and six of 20 pounds.
Mr. Patterson's best fish weighed 30, 26, 24,
24, 23, 22, 21, 20 and 20.
Mr. W. H. Blake, of Toronto, only fished from
the 27th of June, and got 35 salmon.
Mr. Z. A. Lash, of Toronto, fished from the
28th of June and killed 25 fish.
FIFTY YEARS'. SALMON FISHING Ac. 403
1893
The season's catch amounted to 221 sahnon and
11 grilse, the former weighing 2,519 pounds and
the latter 44 pounds.
Mr. John Manuel only commenced fishing on
the 26th June and remained until the 13th of
July, killing 53 salmon.
.Mr. James Law, who commenced fishing on the
13th of June, killed 104 fish.
Mr. Peck fished nearly as long as Mr. Law and
caught 64 fish.
Only on one occasion during this season did any
one rod kill more than ten salmon in a day, and
that was on the 22nd of June, when Mr. James
Law caught 13. Mr. Law also killed the heav-
iest fish of this season during his early days on
the river, two of them weighing 27 and 26 pounds
respectively.
In addition to the scores of the usual Godbout
party above given, it should be mentioned that
Mr. Dennistoun, who visited the river, killed 11
fish weighing 143 pounds.
1894
There were several rods on the Godbout in all,
during 1894.
General Montgomery-Moore, commander of the
forces in Canada, spent a few days on the river,
getting 4 salmon and a grilse.
404 FIFTY YEARS! SALMON FISHING Ac.
Mr. W. T. KingsmiU, of Port Elizabeth, South
Africa, fished from the 11th of June to the 12th
of July, with Messrs. Manuel, Law and Peck.
Mr. Kingsmill's score was 42 fish, Mr. Manud's
95, Mr. James Law's 45, and Mr. Thomas Peck's
32. Messrs. Law and Peck, however, fished the
same pools.
The total score of the river for the season for
the Godbout party was 205 salmon, weighing
2,407 pounds, and 14 grilse, weighing 50 pounds.
No very big catch was recorded for any one day
of the season by either of the individual anglers.
Some large fish were killed, however, Mr. Manuel
getting one of 33 pounds on the 13th of June, and
one of 29 on the 3rd of July.
After the fishing party had left, Mr. N. A.
Comeau killed 43 salmon weighing 426 pounds;
Mr. W. J. Fraser, Quebec, 8 salmon weighing 76
pounds, and Mr. Chas. V. Norris, six salmon
weighing 63 pounds. Ten grilse were also caught
by these visitors, weighing 31 pounds.
1895
Messrs. James Law, Thomas Peck and Alex.
Paterson, of Montreal, commenced fishing the
river on the 4th of June, Mr. Paterson remain-
ing to June 24th, and the others to July 11th.
Mr. John Manuel and Captain Streatfield, of
Ottawa, arrived on the 24th June and fished till
the 11th July.
FIFTY YEARS! SALMON FISHING Ac. 405
Mesrs. Law and Peck fished the same pools.
The total score of the entire party was 187 sal-
mon and 20 grilse. The fish were of good aver-
age, the total weight of salmon having been 2,445
pounds, or an average of over 13 pounds.
The individual scores were Mr. John Manuel,
56 fish; Mr. James Law, 53; Mr. Thomas Peck,
29; Mr. Alex. Paterson, 17; Captain Streatfield,
32.
A few large fish were killed, but no very big
daily scores were made.
Mr. Law killed a fish weighing 29 pounds, and
Mr. Peck one of 26 pounds.
1896
This was an exceedingly favorable season on the
Godbout.
The total kill was 348 salmon and 20 grilse,
the weight of the salmon having been 4,482
pounds.
Angling opened early, five anglers having com-
menced fishing on the river on the 12th of June,
namely, Messrs. John Manuel, James Law^
Thomas Peck, Dr. Manuel and A. C. Henry.
The latter mentioned gentleman only fished till
the 23rd June, getting 6 fish in all.
All the other members remained till the 16th
July, but none of them fished every day of the
season.
The individual scores of the other members of
406 FIFTY YEARS! SALMON FISHING Ac.
the party were Mr. John Manuel, 124 salmon;
Mr. James Law, 82; Mr. Thomas Peck, 72, and
Dr. Manuel, 64.
On the 3rd July of that year, Mr. Manuel killed
his 18 salmon, but no other day of the season
yielded either of the Godbout anglers more than
10 fish to his own rod, that number being reached
by Mr. James Law on the 25th June.
Mr. James Law killed the heaviest fish of the
Godbout season that year,— one weighing 27
pounds. Dr. Manuel killing one of 25 pounds and
Mr. John Manuel one of 24 pounds.
1897
The Godbout was fished this season from the
14th June to the 15th July, but only three of "the
Lairds" spent all the intervening period on the
river, namely, Messrs. John Manuel, James Law
and Thomas Peck.
Mr. A. C. Henry came to the river with them,
but left it again on the 26th of the month, and
Mr. McD. Paterson, of Montreal, arrived on the
28th June and stayed for the remainder of the
season.
This was another year of pretty big fish for the
Godbout, Mr. John Manuel having to his credit
fish weighing 32, 30, 28, 26, 24 and 23 pounds,
Mr. Henry, one of 28 pounds, and Mr. Peck, one
of 27 pounds.
Founders of Weymthegan Salmon Club
Ftthing
the
"Sh.y"
Pool-
Godbottl
River
THE LAIRDS OF THE GODBOUT.- (From Left to Right :-
ThM. Peck. Jm. Law. A. C. Henry. John Manuel. Dr. Manuel)
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 407
In two days fishing, Mr, John Manuel
killed 19 and 16 salmon respectively.
Mr. John Manuel's catch for the season was
115 fish; Mr. James Law's, 57; Mr. Thomas
Peck's, 42; Mr. Paterson's, 28, and Mr. Henry's,
10.
The total catch was 252 salmon or 2,952
pounds.
1898
The salmon score of the Godbout anglers for
1898 was 232 salmon weighing 3,002 pounds and
19 grilse of four pounds each.
The fishing commenced on the 11th June, and
lasted till the 14th July, but only Mr. John Man-
uel and Mr. James Law were on the river during
the whole of that period. The score of the former
mentioned was 101 fish and of Mr. Law, 75.
Of those who spent a shorter time in camp, Mr.
Alex. Paterson killed 42 salmon; Mr. Thomas
Peck, 12, and Col. E. A. Whitehead, Montreal,
2.
Mr. Law's catch included a fish of 28 pounds;
Mr. John Manuel's one of 27, and another of 26,
and Mr. Paterson's one of 26.
1899
Six rods in all whipped the Godbout this sea-
son.
408 FIFTY YEARS? SALMON FISHING Ac.
Messrs. John Manuel, James Law, Thomas
Peck and Alex. Paterson commenced together on
the 12th June, the three first mentioned fishing np
to the 24th July, and making scores of 120, 73
and 64 respectively.
Mr. Paterson fished till the 6th July and killed
44 fish.
In twelve days* fishing in July, Col. E. A.
Whitehead killed 7 fish, and Mr. J. A. Walker,
of Montreal, the same number.
Mr. Paterson's best fish was one of 27 pounds,
and Mr. John Manuel's, one of 25. Both Mr.
Manuel and Mr. Peck killed fish of 23 pounds
each.
The catch of the entire party totalled 315 sal-
mon or 3,544 pounds, and 25 grilse amounting to
103 pounds.
1900
Messrs. John Manuel and James Law opened
the season's fishing on the Godbout on the 13th
June and were followed two days later by Mr.
Thomas Peck and Col. E. A. Whitehead. They
all fished up to the 28th July, except that Mr.
Law was absent from June 16th to June 30th.
Mr. Manuel killed 107 salmon; Mr. Law, 45;
Mr. Peck, 66, and Col. Whitehead, 38.
In all, 256 salmon and 39 grilse were killed, the
former weighing 3,159 pounds, and the grilse,
165 pounds.
FIFTY YEARS'. SALMON FISHING &e.
409
The biggest fish of the season on this river was
Mr Peck's 27 pounder, but Mr. Manuel caught
others weighing 26 and 25 pounds, and Col.
Whitehead also had one of 25 to his credit.
There were also three visitors to the river:
Captain Panet, of the Royal Engineers, who
caught 14 fish weighing 172 pounds; Mr. Peter
McKenzie, of Montreal, who killed two weigh-
ing 19 pounds, and Herr Von Gelder, who also
killed two weighing 18 pounds.
1901
The first sahnon were killed by anglers on the
Godbout in 1901 on the 11th June. There were
four fishermen in the party and each killed fish.
The members of the party were John Manuel,
Ottawa; James Law, Montreal; Colonel White-
head. Montreal, and Alex. Paterson, Montreal.
The latter left on the 26th June, and on the fol-
lowing day Mr. A. Gihnour, of Ottawa, arrived.
During the last few days of the season, Mr.
Thomas Peck, of Montreal, fished some of the
pools, getting five salmon and three grilse.
Colonel Whitehead and Mr. Law fished the
same pools.
The 363 fish, including the 13 grilse, which
constituted the total result of the fishing of the
entire party during the season, weighed 4,033
poimds.
Mr. John Manuel's total was 134 salmon and
410 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ao.
four grilse; Mr. James Law's, 86; Col. White-
head's, 34; Mr. Alex. Paterson's, 61; Mr. A.
Gilmoiir's, 35 salmon and 6 grilse, and Mr.
Peck's, 5 salmon and 3 grilse.
1902
This was a big season for the fly-fishermen of
the Godbout.
The catch of salmon numbered 543, and there
were ten grilse. The salmon weighed 5,895
pounds.
Of the above catch, Mr. John Manuel contribu-
ted 216 salmon and 5 grilse, Mr. James Law, 164
salmon and three grilse. Colonel Whitehead, 70
salmon, Mr. F. L. Wanklyn, Montreal, 26, and
Mr. A. Paterson, 67 salmon and 2 grilse.
Mr. Wanklyn fished from the 12th June to the
25th, and Mr. Paterson from the 5th July to the
23rd. The others fished from the 11th June to
the 23rd July.
Mr. Manuel killed 20 fish on the 11th July, 13
on the 15th, 11 each on the 28th of June and the
5th and 8th of July. He killed a 30-poimder on
the 16th and a 28-pounder on the 28th of Jime,
and of his other big fish may be mentioned two of
27 pounds, one of 25, five of 23, and a number of
22, 21 and 20 pounds respectively.
Mr. Law made one day's catch of 18 fish, an-
other of 12 and another of 10; and his three best
fish turned the scales at 29, 26 and 23 pounds.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 411
1903
This was another good year.
The 548 salmon killed by the anglers on the
Godbout averaged over 11)^ lbs. each, making a
total weight of 6,334 pounds;
The fishing commenced on the 8th June, an ex-
ceptionally early date, all the members of that
year's angling party being then upon the river,
namely, Mr. John Manuel, Mr. James Law, Col.
£. A. Whitehead and Mr. James Manuel. The
three first mentioned fished until the 20th July,
but Mr. James Manuel left the river on the 13th
of that month.
The individual scores were Mr. John Manuel,
234 salmon; Mr. Law, 174; Col. Whitehead, 51,
and Mr. James Manuel, 89.
Mr. John Manuel's best days this season gave
him 18, 13, 12, 12, 11, 11, 10 and 10 fish respec-
tively, and his biggest fish were 31, 28, 23, 23, 23,
22, 22, 22, 21 and 21 respectively.
Mr. Law killed 16 fish on the 4th July and 12
on the 30th of June, and the weights of his larg-
est fish were 25, 24, 24, 23, 22, 22, 22, 21, 21 and
21 respectively.
Mr. James Manuel got 16 fish on the 2nd July
and 10 on the 6th.
1904
Nearly 4,000 pounds, — ^to be exact, 3,903
poimds, — was the weight of the 328 salmon killed
412 FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac.
on the fly in the Godbout during the season of
1904.
Two of these, weighing together 40 pounds,
were taken by a visitor to the river, Mr. Peter
McKenzie.
The regular Godbout party was the same as in
the preceding year: Messrs. John Manuel, James
Law, Colonel Whitehead and Mr. James Manuel.
The individual scores were Mr. John Manuel,
129; Mr. James Law, 91; Col. Whitehead, 28,
and Mr. James Manuel, 78.
The last mentioned left the river on the 13th
July. The three others remained till the 20th
July, as in the preceding year. They also com-
menced to fish on the same date as in 1903,
namely, the 8th of June.
The fishing was fairly good throughout the sea-
son, no extraordinary day's catch having been
made, however, Mr. John Manuel killing his
greatest number, — 12,— on the 20th June. In-
cluded in that day's catch were two salmon
weighing 26 and 25 pounds respectively.
A 27-pounder was killed by. Mr. Law, and a
26-pounder by Mr. James Manuel.
1905
The fishing was commenced on the Godbout
this year on the 7th June, but so little was done
for the first ten days that not more than one fish
per day to the four rods was killed up to tiie 17th
of the month.
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 413
The party was the same as in 1003 and 1004,
except that it was joined on the 27th June by Mr.
Thos. Law, of Toronto, while Mr. Paterson left
on the 30th.
The fishing was continued up to the 21st July.
The catch of 263 sahnon, which weighed 2,062
pounds, was made up as follows : Mr. John Man-
uel, 81; Mr. James Law, 65; Col. Whitehead,
13; Mr. Paterson, 41; Mr. Thomas Law, 63.
Mr. Law and Col. Whitehead fished together,
and the latter only fished rather less than two-
thirds of the time he was on the river.
Mr. James Law killed the largest fish of the
season, a 33-pounder, and a 27-pounder was
killed by Mr. Paterson.
The largest day's catch of the season, 11 fish,
was made by Mr. John Manuel on the 28th of
June.
1006
The two first fish of the season in 1006 were
caught by Mr. James Law on the 5th of June, an
exceedingly early date. They weighed 26 and 17
pounds respectively. Mr. Law was accompan-
ied by Col. Whitehead.
Two days later Messrs. John Manuel and James
Manuel arrived.
The latter left the river on the 2nd July and
Mr. Alex. Paterson arrived on the same date.
A little fishing was done up to the 20th July.
Mr. John Manuel's catch for the season was 164
414 FIFTY YEARS! SALMON FIBBING Ae.
fish; Mr. James Law's, 145; Ck>L Whitehead's,
36; Mr. James Manners, 125, and Mr. Alex.
Paterson's, 46.
A visitor, Mr. John Walker, of Montreal,
caught five fish.
The total catch was 521 salmon, weighing 5,660
pounds.
Mr. Law and Mr. Whitehead again fished to-
gether.
The 26th June was a successful day on the
river. Mr. John Manuel killed 18 fish and Mr.
James Manuel 17, Mr. James Law 8, and Ck>l.
Whitehead, 2.
Mr. John Manuel's catch during the season in-
cluded fish weighing 25 and 24 pounds each, and
several others of 20 and over.
Mr. James Manuel killed two fish of 25 pounds
each.
1907
The Godbout party in 1907 scored 416 fish
weighing 4,643 pounds. The last of these were
caught on the 23rd of July. Some members of the
party fished the river on the 24th, 25th and 26th
of July, but caught nothing.
After the party had left the river, however, Mr.
Thomas Law killed 31 fish, weighing 257 pounds.
Mr. James Law killed the first Godbout salmon
of the season on the 7th June. It weighed 19
pounds. The two next days proved blanks. Col.
Whitehead killed a fish of 15 pounds on the 11th,
FIFTY YEARS' SALMON FISHING Ac. 415
Mr. John Manuel one of 19 on the 12th, Col.
Whitehead one of 10 on the 13th, Mr. John Man-
uel one of 23 on the 14th, and Mr. James Law one
of 11 on the same date. After that date the fish-
ing improved.
The only members of the party to fish through-
out the season were the first arrivals, Messrs.
John Manuel, James Law and Col. Whitehead.
Their scores were respectively 120, 148 and 64,
Messrs. Robert McD. Paterson and Charles
Hoare, of Montreal, arrived on the river on the
24th June and left again on July 1st. They
killed 22 and 11 salmon respectively.
Mr. Alex. Paterson, Montreal, reached camp
on the 6th July and fished to the end of the sea-
son, taking 51 salmon. Twice during his stay,
Mr. Paterson killed 13 fish in a day.
Mr. James Law killed 16 fish one day and 12 on
another, and Mr. James Manuel 13 one day and
10 each on three other days.
Two 28-pounders and four 27-pounders were
killed during the season. The first mentioned
were secured by Mr. Law and Mr. Robert McD.
Paterson.
Mr. Law secured two 27-pounders, Mr. Robert
McD. Paterson 1, and Mr. John Manuel, 1.
1908
Mr. John Manuel opened the angling season on
the Godbout, killing a bright 22-pound salmon
on the 0th June.
416 FIFTY YEARS'. SALMON FISHING Ac.
The season was not remarkable for specially
big fish, though one of 28 pounds was secured by
Col. Whitehead. The total score was good, how-
ever, showing 387 salmon and a weight of 4,389
pounds.
Mr. John Manuel had to his credit 109 fish,
Mr. James Law 104, Col. Whitehead 8, Mr.
James Manuel 121, Mr. A. Paterson 31, and Mr.
J. A. Walker, 14.
It should be mentioned, however, that Col.
Whitehead left the river on the 24th June, that
Messrs. A. Paterson and J. A. Walker only ar-
rived on the 8th July, and that Mr. James Man-
uel left on the 15th of that month.
Mr. James Law killed 14 salmon on the 4th
July, and 10 each on two other days.
Mr. James Manuel killed 17 fish on the 3rd
July, 13 on the 15th of June, and 10 on the 17th.
Mr. John Manuel killed 10 salmon on each of
two different days.
Long may the Lairds of the Godbout live to
enjoy the royal sport of matching their science
and skill against the cunning, agility and
strength of the kingly salmon of their far-famed
river; and may good fortune, health and appe-
tite wait upon all who respond to the call of
''Life and Sport on the North Shore*' 1
Xtet of girltf
3b A VINO made frequent reference to Ttfions speoiee of birds
^? in this work, it m*y be of interest to some of my readers to
have a full list of all I liave observed here. Unless otherwise
mentioned, I ibave shot every yariet^ noted, and where I was un-
certain as to the species, the skins were sent to Dr. C. H. Mer-
riam for identification. To the original list first published by
Dr. C. H. Merriam in 1882 I have since added a few more
species, and have also beem able to better ohserve the habits and
migrations of others. Where this has been done I have placed
my indtialed note.
From Bull. Nutt. Obn Club, Vol. 7, N. 4, Oct. 1882.
List ov Birds ascertained to occur within ten mUee of Pointe
dee Monte, Province of Quebec. Based chiefly upon the
notes of Nap. A. Combau, hy C. H. MmaiAM, M.D.
Pointe des Monts is the southward termination of a high
rooky promontory that separates the river from the Gulf of St.
Lawrence on the North Shore. It is in latitude 49^ '19 north.
The country is well wooded, the forests consisting chiefly of
spruce (both black and white), and balsam. Scattered about are
a few birches, poplars, cedan and tamaraokB; and on a sandy
terrace near the Qodbout river is a quantity of the Northern
scrub pine (Pinus Banksiana)ihB,t here attains a height of 90
and sometimes 40 feet. The region is so far north that not only
are the oaks and hickories absent, but even the hardy beech and
maple do not grow here. (I have found a few beech trees since.
N.A.O.) I visited this section of the coast in July, 1881, and
again in July, 1882; and with the observations made at these
times I have incorporated the notes kindly placed at my disposal
by Mr. Napoleon A. Oomeau, guardian of Godbout.
The nomenclature followed is that of the second edition of
Dr. CSoues' Check List of North American Birds.
1. Turdus migraitorius. — ^Robin. — ^A common summer resident,
arrives about the first of May and remains till late in Novem-
418 LIST OF BIRDS!
bep. Seen Deo. 22, 1879. (Winters, oooaaionally, in years when
the mountain aali berry is plentifnl, feeds on sea beacb also,
N.A.O.)
2. Turdus unalasca navius. — ^Hibmit Tsbubh. — Tolembly
oommoa. Breeds. (May 6ih, 1889. N.A.C.)
3. Twrdus uiiulatus i%Dain$oni. — Olzvbbaoked Thrush. — Noi
nnoommon, breeds. (Nest found with young June Uth, 1889.
N.A.C.)
4. Sidlia sialis. — Blitx Bird. — ^Extremely rare. During a resi-
denoe of msny yean at Godbout, Mr. Gomeau has seen but one
pair of these birds; they were nested in a stump neaar his house
in July, 1880. (Seen again June 8, 1887, N.A.C.)
6. Begulus calendula. — ^Rubt Cbownbd Kinqlr. — Male, Shot
June 4th, 1882. (June drd, 1886).
6. Parus atricapiUus, — ^Blaok-oappbd Chiokadeb. — ^A oommon
resident.
7. Parus hudtanicua. — ^Hudsonian Chiokaoib. — ^A oommon resi-
dent like the last.
8. Sitta canadenns. — Rbd-bbllibd Nuthatoh. — Tolerably
oonunon in winter, but not observed in summer. (Breeds. N.A.C.
June 7, 1884. May 11, 1886.)
9. Eremophila alpestrU. — Hornbd Lark. — First seen April 21,
1882, after whioh they were very oommon for about three weeks,
then disappeared. I found a young one dead at Oodbout, in
July, 1881. (Breeds and remains late in the fall, October and
November. N.A.C.)
10. Anthus ludovuMmus, — ^Titlark. — Toleorably oommon sum-
mer resident and doubtless breeds. I have seen flocks of them
in July feeding on the beach at low water. Fint seen May 7th,
1882. (Breeds N.A.C.)
11. Helmintophila peregrina, — ^TsNinfissRB Warblbr. — ^A toler-
ably common summer resident. First shot June 6th, 1882.
12. DendroRca (Bstiva, — Sitmmbr Warblbr. — ^Not very oom-
mon. First seen June 6th, 1882.
13. Dendraca virens. — Blaok-throatbd GfRBBN Warblbi. — A
tolerably common summef resident.
14. DendrcBca coronata. — Tbllow-rumpbd Warbubb. — A
rather oommon summer resident. First seen May 29th, 1882.
15. Dendraca hlackhumce. — ^Blaobsxtrns Warblbr.— Bather
rare. Shot June 9th, 1882.
LIST OF BIRDS 419
16. Dendrceca striaia. — Blaok-Poll Warblhr. ^Rare. Mr.
Cbmeau ehot a male June 7ih, 1882. (Obrorred frequently
einoe. Late migrant. N.A.O.)
17. Dtndraca macvlosa.—BhkOK aio) Tbllow WARBijR.~The
commonest warbler, breeding abundantly. Barliest seen May
2dik, 1882.
18. Siurus TWBvitt*.— Watbb Thbush.— Bather rare. Shot June
eOi, 1882. Othera aeen. (Breeds. N.A.O.)
19. Oeothlypis tric?Ms. — Maryland Tbllow-Throat. — Not
common. Saw two in the oleaaring about Mr. Allan Qilmour's
camp on the Gk>dbout. (Breeds. IS.A.C.)
20. Myiodioctes ptmUia. — ^Blaok-oappid Tsllow Warblib. —
Rather rare. Shot June dkh, 1882. Others seen.
21. Myiodioctes canadensis. — Canadian Fltoatohinq Warblbr.
— ^A tolerably common summer Nsident..
22. Setophaga rutieUla. — ^Rbdbtart. — ^Tolerably common. First
seen June 9, 1882.
28. Hirundo erythrogastra horreorwri, — Barn Swallow. —
Rare and not known to breed. Mr. Comeau shot one May 29thy
1882. (Very irregular straggler. Breeds. Oct. SOth, 1890. N.A.
0.).
24. Iridoprocne hicolor, — Whitb-rbtiLibd Swallow. — Oom-
mon, breeds plentifully. First seen M«y 12th, 1882.
25. Petrochelidon lunifrons. — Clivv Swallow. — ^A small colony
nested in the deserted Hudson's Bay trading post at Oodbout
this year (1882.)
26. Ampelis cedromm. — Cbdar bird. — A tolerably common sum-
mer resident. (Very irregular^ some years none seen. N.A.O.)
27. Lanius horealis, — Grbat Northbrn Shruoi. — Occurs, but
is not known to bieed. (Not common. Once saw three feed-
ing on seal carcasses in winter. N.A.C.)
28. Pinieola ewucleaior, — ^Pinb Grobbbak. — ^A tolerably common
resident. In autumn it feeds extensively ui>on the berries of
tlie mountain ash. I bays already published a note on the
breeding of this species at Godbout. * (Obseryed breeding
again, since. Very abundant some years. N.A.C).
29. Carpodacus purpure'os, — ^Purplb Finch. — ^Not very com-
mon. First seen April 26th, 1882. (June 9th, 1887. N.A.C.)
See this Bulletin Vol. VII., 120, 121.
420 LIST OF BIRDS
80. Loxia l€i»oopeefti.— WHm-wmo CikOfls-iiZLir-Ti^erably oom-
mon but 8am€iwii«t irregular in appeairance. I fooiid tlus spe-
oiee to be very abundiiiit here in July 1881, wliile in July, 1882,
I did not aee Any. (Very irresol^. N.A.O. Feb. 14tli, 1896.)
81. JBgiothui linaria, — Rbd-foll. — Very abundant in winter,
large flooks being seen every day. Ihiey all seem to more in
one direotion, foUoiwing tlie diore westmrard. (Sonne observed
in May. N.A.O.).
82. ChrysomitriM pinu$. — ^Pini LmNiT. — Gtenerally oommon,
but somewhat irregular. (Sept. 2nd, 1888. N.A.C.).
88. A9iragalinu» irUiu, — ^Akbooan (Soldvinoh. — ^Bather rare.
I saw a smAll flook in 1882. (One Aot June 7th, 1884. Baro.
N.A.C.).
34. Pleetropkanes nivalis. — £fKow BvimNO. — Very oomnKA in
flooks in winter. Seen as late as middie of May. (Oooasionally
absent from January to end of February. Plumage gets rusty
oolored in May. N.A.G.).
85. Centrophanes lapponieu$, — ^Lapland Lonospxte. — Jjbs^
flocks of this species appear on this paot of the coast during the
latter x>art of April, remaining till about the middle of May.
They are than very abundant, ooourring both alone and in
flocks with the preceding.
36. Pas$ereulu$ aandvieensit savana,— 43avanna Spabbow. —
Tolerably common, breeding on the thinly grassed sandfields
about the mouth of the Oodbdut. Mr. Comeau shot one as
early as April 21st, 1882. (August 25th, 1885. N.A.C.) >
87. Melospixa fatciata. — Sonq Spabrow.— A rather oommon
summer resident in suitable places, arriying early in May. Par-
inculao-ly numerous in the clearing about Mr. Allan Gilmour's
osmp on the (Sodbout.
88. Junco hiemdlii. — ^Blaok Snowbird. — Very oommon. First
seen May 16th, 1882. (April 26^1, 1889. Very late in leaving,
Noyember 19th, 1904. Mamy peridi during heavy snowBtorms
in faU. N.A.O.).
89. iZonoftrichia albicoUis. — ^WHm-THBOATiD Spabbow. — ^The
commonest sparrow, breeding eveirywhere. First seen May 14th,
1882. This bird is the "Nightingale" of the Canadians.
40. Zonotrichia leucophrys, — Whitb-crownbd Sparrow. —
Breedi, but is not common. (Oommon but irregular. I once saw
about eight or ten birds feeding on soap scraps left on the edge
of a cold soap boiler. N. A. C).
LIST OF BIRDS 421
41. AgelcBus phcenieetbs. — ^Rbd-8HOI7Ldbrbd Blaokbibd. — ^Very
iwre. The only one ever seen heone was a fenukKe, and was sbiyt
by Mr. Gooneaa May 2QDd, 1882.
42. Xanthoeephalus teterocephalus. — ^Tbllow-hbadbd Black-
BIRD. — ^An aoddental straggler £ro(m the West. Mr. Gomeau
sihoit a male of this speoies in his door ywad lat Gk>dboitt early in
Sept., 1878.*)
48. Quisedlui purpure%u. — Grow Blackbird. — ^Rare. Some-
times seen in flocks in spring (^nd in "Uie fall inregalar immi-
grant. N. A. O.).
44. Corvus eorax. — ^Ravbn. — A common resident. — May 12tli9
1882, Mr. Oomean found one of tflheir nests, on the £aoe of a
cliff about half way down between Godbout and Pointe des Monts.
It contained four full-fledf^ young tlhat must h^ve been at
least three or four weeks old. (Breeds in March, found a nest
with four young as big as pigeons Apiril 2nd, 1889. ECaye seen
lots of young birds flying ^tbout at end of May. A bird very
much hated by trapx>ers on account of its habit of robbing the
baits firom fox traps. The bird also suffers great cruelty from
igoarant people on account of a superstitious belief, that if the
eyes of the young birds are put out, the old birdi will bring
to the nest a certadn kind of stone that will restore their
eyenrigiht, and be left in the nest. This stone, it aippears, has
many mysterious properties, chief of which are rendering the
wearer invisible and enabling him to see in the dark. N.A.G.).
46. Corvus frugivoms, — Gbow. — ^A common summer resident,
sometimes wintering. I liave obserred that the crows here find
nvuoh of their food along the beach at low water. (Dead fish of
all kinds and possibly smiall live ones, cUums and other shell fish,
especially sea-urchins and star fish form their chief foods. N.
A.C.).
46. Cyanoeitta crMtata.—BLtr»-JAT.-— Resident, but not very
common. (Not resident but a very irregular and sometimes
abundant migrant. June 14th, 1889, abundant. N.A.G.).
47. Peri$oreu8 Canodewm.— Canada Jat.— A tolerably com-
mon resident. (Exceedingly abundant 1903 amd 1908. Very
early breeder. Have seen young birds flying early in June.
N.A.G.)
48. Tyrannus caroKnctwi*.— King-bibd.— Not pare. Earliest
June 9th, 1882. (May 27th, 1884, June 4th, 1885. N.A.G.)
* See this bulletin Vol. VI., p. 246.
422 LtlST OF BIRDS
49. Empidonax flaviventri$. — ^Ybllow-bkllibd Fly-oatchbr. —
I Siaye seen « specimen, tliat Mr. Gomeaa shot June ISth, 1882.
(June 6th, 1884, June 9ih, 1885. Breeds. N.A.O.).
50. Chordeiles popetue. — ^Nioht-hawe. — A common summer
resident. Fiist seen June 5tib, 1882. I saw nigjit hawks fly-
ing about oyerhead nearly every day while at Godbout, both in
July 1881, and July, 1882. (One observed May 27lAi, 1889.
N.A.C.).
51. Chcetura pela»(7»ca.— Chimney Swift.— Generally toler-
ably oomnwrn, buit not seen this year (1882).
52. Ceryle alcyon. — ^Bbltbd Kingfibhsr. — A rather common
summer resident, arriving about Ist of May. About June 13th
1882, Mr. Comeau found three Kingfishers' nests in a bank, and
each contained seven fresh eggs. (Very destructive to young
salmon and trout fry on a river. N.A.C.).
63. Hylotomus pileattw.— Pilbatbd Wood-ptokbb.— Very rare.
Mr. Obmeau has shot but one here. (Have seen a few since,
and one flhot April 22nd, 1902. N.A.C.)
54. Picu8 viMoaiM.— Hairy Woodpbokbr,— A tolerably com-
mon resident, being particularly fond of the burnt-over scrub
pine barren necur (Sodbout.
54. Picus pubwccTM.— Downy Woodpbokmi.— A tolerably
common resident like the last.
56. Picaides areticus. -Bu ok Thrbh-tokd Woodpbokhr.— Resi-
dent. Not rare.
57. Oolaptes aurottw.—XSoLDBN-wiNGBD Woodfhokbr.— A toler-
ably common summer resident. First seen May Uth, 1882. (One
shot May 2nd, 1889. N.A.C.)
58. Bubo Virginianus.'-QBMKT H<»nsd Owl.— A rather com-
mon resident. (A very bold bird. Have known several instan-
ces of its attacking human beings. N.A.O.)
59. Asio Wtl<onianu«.— LoNG-iABKD Owl.— Rare. Mr. Oomeau
shott three in May 1877 and 1878.
60. Asio accipttrinuji.— Short-bared Owl.— A rather r^e *^-
mer lesident. Earliest seen May 9th, 1882. (Breeds. N.A,0.)
61. StHx n«bulo«a.— Babebd Owl.— A tolerably common resi-
dent.
62. Nyetea «cafMliaca.-SNOWY OwL.-Very irregular in ap-
pearance; aome times very abundant \^*^' ^^.'^^^
not seen for several years. Mr. Comeau shot one May 17th, !»«,
LIST OF BIRDS 428
and Mr. Gregoire Labrie killed one May diet, 1880. These are
the ktefft dates at which th^ have been seen in tihis regi<m.
(Still the latest record. N.A.O.)
63. Swmia funerea, — ^Hawk OwL.—XJommoQ in winter, gener-
ally appearing in November and not remaining later than Febrn-
ary. (Shot March 18th, 1904. N.A.O.)
64. Nyetala tengmalmi Bichardsonu — Rioeardbon'b Owl. — ^A
oommon winter resident and very tame. This owl has a low
liquid note -that resembles the soond produced by water slow-
ly dropping from a height, hence the Montagnais Indians called
it ptUip-pUe ishish, which means ' 'water-dripping biid. These
Indians have a legend that this was at one time the largest owl
in the world and that it had a very loiid voice. It one day
perdied itself near a large water-fall and tried not only to imi-
tate the sound of the fall, but also to drown the roaring of the
torrent in its own voice. At this the great Spirit was offended
and tranaformed it into a pigmy, causing its voice to resemble
slowly dripping water instead of the mighty roar of a cataract.
66. Nyctdla acadica. — Saw-whbt Owl. — ^Not very common. In
winter Mr. Oomeau once saw one of these little owls fly out from
within the carcass of a great Northern hare that had been
oaugjht in a snare. The owl had eaten away the abdomen and
was at work wilihin the thoracic cavity when frightened away.
(Shot March 14th, 1902.)
66. Circus cyaneus hudsonixis. — ^Marbh Harribr.^A tolerably
common summer resident. Three individuals seen aa early as
May SUi, 1882. (Oct. 19th, 1887. Breede. N.A.C.)
67. Astur atricapUlus, — Goshawk. — ^Not rare. Breeds. Nov.
24th, 1888. N.A.O.)
68. Falco tacer ohsoletuM, — ^Labrador Gtbfalook. — ^Mr. Oomeau
has killed several of these rare falcons in the vicinity of Ood-
boat. (Jan. 10th, 1886. Nov. 8th, 1892. N.A.C.)
69. Falco co{iimbanu«.—PiGBON Hawk. — ^Not rare and doubt-
less breeds. (May 2nd, 1884, May 2htt, 1889. N.A.O.)
70. Falco sparverius. — Spabrow Hawk. — ^Rare. One shot May
6th, 1882. (Tolerably common, breeds. N.A.O.)
71. Arehihuteo lagopus sanetujohannU. — ^Roxtgh-lbgobd Buz-
zard. — Breeds and is rather common. The southward migration
commences about the last of September and continues into No-
vember. During this period large numbers of these hawks are
constantly passing over this part of the coast on the way to
424 LIST OF BIRDS
Umr winter quarters. (Oot. 7tii, 1886, Oot. 23nd, 1889, and maay
Mken at different timee. N.A.C.)
72. Pandfon ^ioluBtiu.— Fish Hawk.—A few pairs of fish
hawks breed in this yioindty eYery year, lliey were first seen
May 2nd, 1882. They depart in NoYember. Nor. Mx, 1889.
One of the most regular of migrants, softroely erer varies more
than one da.y in appearing here. Found it breeding abundantly
in Labrador 1897. N.A.O.)
78. AquUa chrytaitu. — Goldbn Eaolb. — ^Breeds and is not
partioolairly rare. Mr. Cbmeau has shot three and knows of
haif a docen that were canght in ste^ traps. (See ISiree golden
eagles, page 812 of this book. May 7th, 1896. N.A.C.)
74. HalicBtus leueocephalus. — ^Whitb-hbaded Eaqlb. — ^Toler-
ahly oommon. Breeds. They arrive in March and remain tiU
Deoember or January. Mr. Gomeau found a nest eariy in June,
that oontained three young about the sise of oiows. (Found a
nest with three eggs May 16th, 1889 nearly hatched. Winters
frequently. N.A.O.)
76. EciopUtes migraioriua, — ^Wild Pigbon. — ^A rather rare and
▼ery irregular visitor. (June 27th, 1889 five shot. Oooasionally
seen yot. 1908. N.A.C.)
76. Zenaidura Carolinensis, — Cabolina Dovb. — Of this South-
em species Mr. Gomeau has killed two at Gk>dbout, the first a
male he shot October lOtih, 1881, and the seoond a female, June
6th, 1882. (Several more seen or shot since. N.A.C.)
77. Canaee canadenns. — Sfbvcb GhtousB. — A resident species
but rather rare.
78. Bonasa umheUa, — ^Rtjvtlbd Gboubb. — A resident liko tiie
last but not common.. This appears to be the northern limit of
the grouse on the esst ooast, and I was unable to find any evi-
dence of its presence lower down along the north shore of the
gulf. (Abundant some years. Breeds ^ui far down as Mingan.
N.A.O.)
79. Lagoptu alb%u. — ^Willow Ptaem man. — ^Very abundant dur-
ing the early part of some winters, but during other years it
does not occur at all. Individuals generally arrive about the first
of Deoember and a few remain tiU the first of May. They are
always most abundant in I>ecember, and Mr. CSomeau once kill-
ed six hundred before Ohristmas. He has shbt as many as eighty-
two in a single morning. (See chapter in this work entitled
"Grouse and other Land Birds.")
LIST OF BIRDS 425
80. Sg^aitarola helvetica. — ^Blaok-bklubd Plovbr. — ^R&tlier rare
and irregaladr in ooonrrenoe. Mr. Gomeaa has tibot it in May
and September. (June 9th, 1904 five birda. N.A.C.)
81. Charodrius dominieus. — Goiohn Plovxr. — ^Tolerably oom-
mon in September and some times seen in spring. (Getting
more ra«^ of late years. N.A.C.)
82. JEgialites vociferus. — KiT.n ««n Plover. — ^Mr. Gomean says
tbat this species breeds and is not radre.
88. JSgialites $emipdltnatus. — ^Rimg-neok Plovbr. — Ooonrs in
spring. (Breeds fairly numeiPoaSy and in Sept. ako. N.A.C.)
84. StrepsUaa interpres. — ^Tubnbtonb. — Tolerably common in
September.
85. 8teganopu$ WiUoni. — ^Wilson' Phalaropb. — ^Mr. Oomean
tells me tbat this phalarope oooors daring the fall migration,
bnt is not oommon.
86. PhalaroptLS fvlieariuM, — ^Not rare in September. (June 4th,
1887, flocks. N.A.O.)
87. OaUinago WiUoni, — Snipb. — A rather late migrant.
Earliest killed May 9th, 1882. (Fairly nomerons much farther
north in suitable places. Breeds. Natsshqaan, August 0th,
1897. N.A.O.)
88. Macrarhampus griseus. — ^Rbd-brbastbd Snipb. — Occurs dur-
ing fall migration. (August 12th, 1886, September 23rd, 1895.
Rare migrant. N.A.C.)
89. Ereunetes ptmUtM.— <SfBMi-PALMATBD Sand-pipbr. — Tolerably
common. First seen doring latter i>art of May, and common in
August auii Septembc".
90. Aciodromas minueina.— Lbast SANDPiPBB^Rather common
in spring and fall.
91. Actodromcu macvlata, — ^Pbctoral Sandpipbr. — Occurs in
fall, but is not common.
92. Actodromas Bonaportw.— Whitb-rumpbd Sandpipbr.— Mr.
Oomeau shot one May 81, 1882. (Common in fall migration.
N.A.C.)
98. CalidrU arefiario.—SANDBRiJNa.— Occurs in the fall migra-
tion.
94. Totanus mcIonoleuctM.— Grbatbr Tattlbb. —Common
spring and fall. Earliest shot May 9th, 1882. Pssses south in
September. (August 2l8t, 1886. July I7th, 1887. Breeds.
N.A.C.)
425 LIST OF BIRDS
96. Toianut /latrtpet.— Tbuow SsAim.-ChMiuiioii daring the
migrations. Ooourt with the preceding. (Bnede. N.iuO.)
96. Bhyaeophaut soliiarius. — Solrart Tattlb. Tolerably
oommon, breeding about the frerii water latee and rtreams
(May 12tii, 1886, May 20tfi, 1887. N.A.C.)
97. Tringaides maeutarius.-^TonaD SAKixnFat.— A tolerably
eommiim snmmer resident.
98. Numeniut boreoZM.— Ebdmo Cuslbw.— CVmunon in Angnst
and September.
99. Numenius hud$aniu$. — ^Hudsonian Gxtrlbw. — ^Rather rare.
Mr. Comeau has shot it in August. (Earliest shot Augiwt 4th«
1886. N.A.O.)
100. Ardea AerodtM.— Guat Blitb Hbbon.— Rather rai© and
generally seen in September. (May 19th, 1886, May 7th. 1908.
N.A.C.)
101. Ardea egretta. — Grsat Whits Eoiur. — ^Aooidental strag-
gler from the South. One seen June 9th, 1882, on an island in
Godbout River. (Not shot, and no other seen here since.
N.A.C.)
102; Boiaurtu mugitam, — ^Akkioak BtrmtN.— Rare. Mr.
Comeau has shot several here and tells me that they are com-
mon at Manioouagan, thirty miles west of Godbout. (August
7th, 1889, May 12th, 1896. two spedmens. Breeds. N.A.C.)
103. Cygnui bp — P. — A swan was shot at Points des Monts by
an Indiam in 1870. (Qygnus buccinator. N.A.C.)
104. Chen hyperhoreus, — Snow Goobb. — Rare. Mr. Comeau
has shot it in October. (Shot frequently flince 1882.)
106. Bernicla hrenta, — ^Bbant Goobb. — Breeds, and is by no
means rare. Arrives in April, remaining into November and
sometimes I>eoember. (March 27th, 1887. Height of the mi-
gration, large flocks 1st to 10th of June. N.A.C.)
106. Bernicla Canademis. — Canada Goobe. — ^A common mi-
grant, arriving during the latter part of March, and depart-
ing in November. It breeds at Natashquan, Western Labra-
dor. (Breeds on Antioosti Island, strag^er. N.A.C.)
107. Anas oh$cura, — ^Blaok Dxtok. — ^A tolerably common sum-
mer resident, breeding about the fresh water lakes. (Arrives
earliest end of March and leaves in November, late date Nov.
271ii, 1896. N.A.C.)
108. Dafila acuta. — Pintail. — ^The only one Mr. Comeau ever
LIST OF BIRDS 427
•aw here lie shot June 7tli, 1882. (Frequently ahot sinoe, irre-
gular migrant. Never numerona. May 14ih. 1907. Probab-
ly breeds oooaai<mally. N.A.O.)
109. Querquedida coroMnenm.— Grebn Wingbd Tm..— Rare
nere, but breed at Manaooaagan.
110. Querquedula dwcorf.— Blttb-wingbd Tbal.— Rare, but
oftener seen than the preceding. Haa been abot eariy in Maj.
(May 4th, 1904. N.A.O.)
111. Fvligvia affinu.^SoAVF Ditok.— Tolerably common in
October. (Sept. also. N.A.O.)
112. Fvligvia cottam.— Rmo-NBOK Duck.— Mr. Oomeau has
killed two in spring. (Rare (here Sept. 23rd, 1895. N.A.O.)
113. Clangula flrlaucium.— Goldbn-byb.— A resident species and
tolerably common. Breeds on fresh water only. Remains
thronghout ihe winter.
114. Clangula wtonrftca.— Barrow's Gk)LDBN-BTB.— A common
resident, breeding like the foregoing on fresh water, and re-
maining on the Gulf all winter. (The meet abundant of the
three species. N.A.O.)
116. Clangula alheola, — Btjttbr-ball.— ^Rare. Has been shot
in October. (May 9th, 1885, May 7iih, 1889. Irregular. Seen
in September some years. N.A.O.)
116. Harelda glacialis. — Residbnt. — ^Very abundant in winter,
the largest flocks being seen in December, January and Febru-
ary. Mr. Oomeau shot one in full summer plumage as early as
April 28rd, 1882. Tolerably common in summer, and 8upi>oeed
to breed. (One of Hhe mcst abundant of our ducks. Breeds.
N.A.O.)
117. Histrionicus minutus. — Harlbqtjin Ditok. — ^Rare and
only seen during the latter part of April and early in May. l^us
year Mr. Oomeau saw two April 16th, and shiot one May 8th,
out of a flock of four. (April 5th, 1889. Seen occasionally since.
The bird appears to be decreasing: faat. In May last year (1908)
I eaw a pair. One evening, May lOtih, 1889, I was returning
liome late from a shooting excursion, when I heard the noise
of wings, frequently produced by a large flock of birds, and look-
up almost overhead, I saw a large flock of ducks passing. It
was too dark to see what they were and the range was a long one.
I fired one shot at the bunch and a bird dropped. Much to my
surprise it was a male haarlequin duck. Were they all harle-
quins? I cannot say, but presume they were. If so there were
*^ LIST OF BIRDS
^^'^^''aZ^^^:^^'''^^^' 1^ wer^ going in
ft northerly direction. N.A.O.) «« «k *«
119. SomaUria spectabUU.-^R^e. He. been known to bn»d.
lao. (Edemw ameHcana.^BuLOK SoooTtt.-Coomion from
^^/iT ^J?**' **".*>°^^ *^ in November. They do not z^
nuain through the winter.
m memia fusca.^YmLYmt 8ooot«.-.A common leudent.
•Tbe largest flocks are aeen in April end November, and the spe-
cies is ccmnK« aU the ^p ronnd. (Pi^bably an ermr in pi^
m^ ^ It does not winter but remains late. Deo. 29th, 1889.
fJ^^A^fr^ ^'V^^^r^^ DxTCK.-Very common
from April to NoTembor, but does not winter. Tlie males great,
ly preponderate over the females in this species, and Mr. Comeaa
t^^me that the proportion is always about seven males to one
123. Mergus mergafwer.— Smlldrakb. — Tolerably common
breeding about the fresh water. (Breeds e«rly, nest found May
12th, 1884, contained five eggs. N.A.C.)
124. Mergu9 aerratar — ^Rb^-briastid MBGANSBB.-.Very com-
mon, frequenting both fresh and salt water. (Some times win-
ters end when not wintering an early migrant. N.A.C.)
125. Sula hasiana — Gannbt.— Occasional.— I have found it
breeding in numbers st the west end of Antioosti, but do not
think it nests farther up the gulf. (Breeds abundantly on
Perroquet Islands. Some years abundant here, following her-
ring and mackerel. N.A.C.)
126. Phdlaeroeorax earho.—Couuov Cobmorant.— Rare, but
Mr. Oomeau hss shot several here.
127. Phakteroeorax dUophus. — DovBUhOBBSTBD Cormorant.
Mr. Oomeau shot a female May 19th, 1882. (Rare, does not
breed here. N.A.G.)
128. 8tercorar%u9 pomaitorhinus. — Pomarimb Jabger. ^Rare.
(Seen occasionally in August and September. N.A.C.)
129. Stercorarius parcuiticus. — Parasitic Jabqer.— Rather
rare. Mr. Oomeau shot six in one day about the middle of
May, 1874. (Seen frequently end of May, then August and
September. A parasite of the kittywake gull and the teftos.
(N.A.C.)
130. Larus glaticus, — Qlaitcoits Gull, Icb Gull. — Rather
LIST OF BIRDS* 429
rape. Usaally teen in February, March and April. I htkre a
handsome male uluoh was ahot by Mr. Oomean April 29ili,
181. XartM leueopteruM, — ^Whitb-wingbo Gitll. — N<^ o(Miimon.
Comm<mly appears and disappears with Ijie last. Mr. Cbmeau
has shot it as late as May Ist. (Said to breed on the Seven
Islands. N.A.G.)
132. Larus marinus. — Qbbat Blaok-baokkd Gxtll. — Breeds and
is tolerably oommon. It is absent only in Jannary and Febru-
ary. July 17th, 1882, I found one of their nests on Great Boule,
one of the Seven Islands. It consisted of a little coarse grass,
placed in a slight depression in the rook and was lined with a
sort of pad, about four inches in diameter, of beautiful soft
down, on which reposed a singjle egg. The egg had been in-
cubated, but failed to hatch. (Generally lays three to four eggs.
N.A.C.)
183. Larus argetitattLB Smithsamanus. — HsBRmo Gitll. — ^Very
abundant, breeding plentifully on suitable rocks. ArriTes about
the middle or latter part of April, remaining into November.
184. Bissa tridaetyla. — ^KnrTWAn. — ^Breeds abundantly. Ar-
rives late in April or early in May, remaining into December.
This and the preceding are the commnneBt gulls along this part
of the coast, and are constantly seen, both singly and in im-
mense flocks. They follow the receding tide and cover the sand
flats that are exposed at low water, feeling upon the molluscs
and other marine animals that abound in such situations. I
have seen more than a thousand at one time.
« 135. Pagophila ehumea. — ^Ivobt Gitll. — ^Very rare. Mr. Oo-
meau shot a male in April, 1877, at Pointe des Monts. The speci-
men was presented to the Museum at Bersimis Mission, where it
IS now preserved. (Deo. 9t3i, 1886, March 71ih, 1906, Jan. 6th,
1908. N.A.C.)
186. Chroecocevhdhii Philadelphia. — Bonapartb'b Gull.— A
tolerably oommon summer resident, arriving late in May.
187. Sterna macrottra.— Arotio Tbn. — ^Very abundant at cer-
tain places where it breeds. Mr. Comeau once killed sixteen at
one shot flying. It arrives early in June. (A very regular mi-
grant, seldom varies more than a day or two in the date of ar-
rival. N.A.O.)
188. Cvmoehorea leueorrhoa. — ^Lbaoh's Pbtrbl.— Ckunmon in
430 .LIST OF BIRDS
summer (Probably an error. Not oommon May 21»t. 1889
Sept. 26th, 1896, June 8rd, 1904. >i.A.O.)
189. Colymbut torquatui.^LooK.— Common. Breeds aboat
tbe fresh water lakes of the interior. I saw many, and lieard
others in the gulf near Pointe des Monts in Jnly. Earliest seen
April 12th, 1882.
140. Colvmbu$ septentrionalU. — Rkd-thboatbd Dxvbk.— C6m-
nnon, breeding with the last, but not arriying so early, usually
coming in May. (Height of the migration about first week in
June. N.A.C.
141. Podicipti griseigena ^olftaUt.— Rbd-nbokbd Gubb.— Bare.
One shot in September. (October 19tih, 1904. N.A.C.)
142. PodUymhut podictpe*.— Dab Chiok, Hill Divbr.— Not
rare. Killed both spring and fall.
148. Frateretila arcttca.— Puronr Sba PARRor.^Not common
as £ar up as Pointe des Monts, but very abundant on the Mingan
Islands, where they breed by thousands. (Irregular stragglers
up the St. Lawrence. Shot one near Tadousac in September,
1906. N.A,0.)
144. AUe nigricans.— 'jycvLKiR — Very abundant in flocks dur-
ing some winters, arriying early in December, and continuing
till some time in Februairy. During other winters it is rare or
does not occur at all. (October 20th, 1888, October 28th, 1896,
earliest recorded ai rival. In November, 1904, there was aa ex-
ceedingly large migration, which continued for about two weeks.
They were flying westwards. For two or three houn each morn-
ing large flocks would be passing up about as fast as we could
count them. Millions passed during these two weeks. N.A.C.)
146. Uria grylle, — Black Gttllimot. — Sba Pigbox. — ^A com-
mon resident, breeding not only here, but even on the islands off
the mouth of the Saguenay, a hundred and fifty miles further up
the St. Lawrence. (Nest found with four eggs, June 10th, 1889.
Godbout N.A.C.)
146. Lomvia traile. — Foolish GtrLLiMOT. — Mim&B. — Like the
Dovekie the Murre is sometimes very abundant here in winter,
while during other winters it does not occur at all. It is uot
wary and does not even know enough to keep out of the way of
dogs along the shore. It is well named the "Foolish" guUimot
for both its habits and appearance deserve this appellation. In
fact it looks like a perfect idiot, swimming over on one side as
if one leg were broken and staring vacantly at its enemies with-
LIST OF BIRD6 431
out attempting to escape. Its taut ensemble is stupid and
gawky. Diuing the winter of 1876 tihey were so exceedingly
abundant that Mr. Oomeau shot about a thousand foir their fea-
thers, and his dog caught over fifty. They were all in very poor
flesh, some being little more than animated skeletons, and a
great many died and were washed ashore. (During the last few
years there has been some eztraordinai^ migrations of iihis bird,
following the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario and possibly fur-
ther. Countless thousands died, apparently of starvation or ex-
haustion, flying till they dropped down. Anywhere in the woods
or on our lakes and rivers ono was sure to find them dead. A
large migration of snowy owls followed in their wake each time,
feeding on th^m extensively. Last November (1908 I saw large
numbers of Murres near Quebec. N.A.C.)
147. Utamania tarda, — ^Razor-billbd Attk. — Not common here
but breeds on t2ie Mingan Islands. (Fairly abundant some years,
moves south in November. Much shyer bird than the murre and
a very strong diver. Considerable numbers seen August 20Ui,
1890. N.A.O.)
From Bull. Ntttt. Obnith Club, Vol. 8, No, 4, Oct., 1888, p. 244
ADDENDUM to list of birds ascertained to occur within ten
miles of Pointe des MontSy Province of Quebec, Canada,
based chiefly upon the notes of Napoleon A. Comeau. Mr.
Comeau has recently sent me skins of ihe following species,
that were not in the original list. They were aU killed at
Oodbout in May and June, 1888.
148. Dendraca coBrvlescens. — (Blaok-throated Blttb Wart
BLBR.--Not common. June 7th, 1883. N.A.C.)
149. Vireo /lavmridM.— Ybllow Grkbn VraBS.— For further
remarks upon this species, which has not previously been record-
ed from Northern North America, see page 218. (A Southern
bird accidental here. May 18th, 1883. N.A.C.)
160. Dolichonyx oryzivorous. — Bob-o-link. — ^Bare. Not known
to breed here. (June 2nd, 1884. N.A.C. June 6th, 1883.)
161. Scolecophagus /erriflieneiw.— (Rusty Graoklb.— Toler-
ably common spring and fall. May 2nd, 1883, May 3rd, 1885,
and November 9th, 1900. N.A.C.)
162. Empidonax mmmti*.— (Least Fly-oatohbb.— Common
and from dates seen probably breeds. June 6th, 1883. N.A.C.)
432 LIST OF BIRDS
158. Bmpidanax traUli.-^(TKKtLB Flt-oatohu. ~ Tolerably
oommon. August 6tli, 1888. N.A.C.)
IM. CantopuM &orea{M.^( Ouvb-bidid FLT-OATOHiR.-.Bat]ier
rare bird. June 6th, 1888, June Srd, 1888. N.A.O.)
156. Tryngiies ru/ejcen<.— .(RaD-BRBASTBD Sand-pips.— Bare.
August 7th, 1883, Auguat 28th, 1883. N.A.C.)
156. Tringa alpina amerieanA. — ^Dxtnlin Ox-bibd. — Bare. Aug.
28th, 1888, Sept. 7th, 1888. N.A.C.)
(From Tm Auk, Vol. I, No. 8, July, 1884.)
SfiOOND ADDENDUM to lUt of htrds, by C. H. Merriam. Mr.
Oomeau Juu sent me shins of the following named species ^
taken hy him at Chdbouty and not previotuly recorded from
that locality.
157. Saxicola ananthe. — (.Whbat-bar. — A stragg^r from Eu-
rope 7ia Greenland. I hare eatdbliidied beyond any doubt that
this bird breeds here, as the following dates of oaptore will
show : May 17th, May 18th, 1884, two female birds. May 24th,
1885, Sept. 19th, 1885, Sept. SOth, 1889, Oct. 17th, Oct. 19lih,
1889 two young birds. Nov. 9th, 1886, Sept. 14th, 1891, S^t.
9th, 1894. Ten burds ahot to he absolutely sure of its identity,
and I saw probably as many more that I did not shoot. N.A.C.)
158. PassereUa Uiaca. — (Fox Spabbow. — Not oommon. — (Oct.
lllii, 1888, May 21st, 1888. N.A.C.)
159. Spizella monticola. — (Tbbb Spabbow. — ^Tolerably oom-
mon. August 7th, 1888, June 1st, 1885. N.A.O./
160. Passer domesticus. — (English Spabbow. — ^Apparently do
not migrate Tory fast in this direction, as I hare only seen one
other specimen since I shot the present one mentioned. May
27th, 1884. N.A.C.)
161. Empidonax fiaviventris. — (Tbixow-bbluxd Flt-oatohbb.
Rather rare. August 9tii, 1883, June 6th and 15th, 1884, June
Mi, 1885.
162. Tringa eanwtus. — ^Robik Snipb. — ^Knot. — Bare. Two
specimens August 7th, 1888. Noi seen since. N.A.C.)
168. Aecipiter fuscus. — (Pigbon Hawk. — Tolerably common.
Breeds May 2nd, 1884, August 25th, 1889. N.A.C.)
164. Melospiza lineolni. — (Linoolk's Finch. — ^Bare. June
2nd, 1884. August 25th, 1885. Seems to go much further north.
LIST OF BIRDS 488
Saw one speoimen at Eegaska, Labrador, in Axtgatt, 1807.
N.A.C.)
165. Mtloipiza palustris. — (Swamp Spabsow.— Tolerably oom-
men. June 2nd, 1884. N.A.C.)
166. Faleo ptregrinus nasvius* — (Dttok Hawk. — ^I hare diot
eereral of these 'hawks, bat they oannot be oonsidetred as ooin-
mon. June 2nd, 1884, Nov. 20th, 1884, Sept. 8th, 1906.
N.A.O.)
167. Passerina cyanea. — (Iia>iGO B-unting. — ^Rare. Straggler.
June 8th, 1884. N.A.O.)
168. Siurus aurieapiUus. — (CKin-bibd. — Not very oommon.
Breeds. Its lend note often heard in the evening. Jnne 9th,
1884. N.A.C.)
169. Sphyrapicus variu8. — (Sapsttoksb. — ^Not rare. June
18th, 1884. N.A.O.)
170. Pieoides tridaeiylus americanus. — (Banded WooDPBcnaHt.
— ^A resident. Species not very common in summer. Nov. 10th,
1883. June 2nd, 1895. April 12th, 1899. N.A.O.) C. Hart
Mbrriam, M.D., Locust Grove, New York.
Since the original list and the two addenda have been publish-
ed I have added the following species, all tsiken within the ori-
ginal limit described by Br. Merriam. The Nomenclature and
order followed is that given in Cone's ''Key to North America
Birds," 1872.
171. Turdus palasni. — ^Hbbmit Thrush.-— Not common. Nov.
10th, 1886.
172. Anonthura troglodytes. — ^Wintbi Wrbn.— ToleraMy oom-
mon. * Breeds. July 7th, 1884.
178. Dendraca castanea. — ^Bat-brbastbd Wabblb. — ^A^iar-
ently rare. M y 25ih, 1885.
174. DendroBca pcdmarum. — Palm Wabblbb. — ^Not common.
May 25th, 1885.
175. Cotyle riparia.^&ATn> Martin.-— Common. Breeds, liay
26th, 1885.
176. Progne purpurea. — Pttrplb Martin. — ^Not common. May
20th, 1896.
177. Pooeeetes pramtnew.— Grass Finoh.— Irregular migrant.
April 24th, 1885.
178. SpizeUa sovidlu.'-^Bi^vtsa Sparrow. — Bather rare here.
June 1st, 1905.
434 LIST OF BIRD8I
179. Moloihrui r€cori$, — Gowbird. — ^Rar«. Only two specimsna
shot. July 7th, 1884.
180. StumeUa magna, — ^Fold-lark. — ^Rather r&re. Broeds.
April IMi, 1900, May 4th, 1902.
181. MUvulus forficatus, — SoissobpTail. — Bare. Only speci-
men seen and shot. Augnat 14th, 1894.
183. Sayomit gayus. — Sats Fltoatohbb. — Apparentiy rare.
October 19th, 1896. One apeoimen 0(nly.
188. TrochUui eoluhris, — Rtjbt-thboatsd Hx7MiciirG Bibd. —
Hare. August 10th, 1886, July 16th, 1896. A few others seen.
184. Coccyzus erythrophikdlmus, — ^Blaok-billbd CtrOKOO. Rare.
August 11th, 1886. Only one other bird of this species seen
since.
186. Scops agio, — Sobbboh Owl. — Tolerably common. A very
noisy bird and easily attracted by a fire. Can bark, whistle and
yell and make the most unearthly sounds. Many a tender foot
hsa been frightened by its howls in the middle of l^e night.
Often shot specimens. One date, Nov. 9th, 1889.
186. Syrmum cinereum. — Grbat-orbt Owl. — ^Not rare. Feb.
6th, 1889. March 10th, 1902.
187. Aeeipiter cooperii, — Oiiiokbn Hawk. — ^Tolerably common.
May 12th, 1884, May 8th, 1886.
188. FdUo colomhariui, — Pwjbon Faloon. — ^Not common. May
21at, 1889, May 2nd, 1894.
189. L^Uo penmylvanicus. — Broad- winobd BtrttABD.— Toler-
ably common. Seems to breed further north. Southern migra-
tions begins about end of September. October 8th, and 9tli,
1884.
190. Oathartes auro.—- Tttbkbt Bubzabd.— Very rare. I know
of only one specimen which I identified. It was caught in a
steel bear trap by a hunter here August 27th, 1894.
191. Lagopw I'-wcuru*.— ^hitb-tailbd Ptabmigan. Appar-
ently a very rare bird here. I shtot one on December 7th, 1894.
The bird was somewhat smaller than the ordinary willow ptar-
migan, but possibly an albino of liie same?
192. PhUohela minor.— Woodoook.— Very rare. Shot the only
one I ever saw here on August 17th, 1886, after a very stri^ng
gale of southwesterly winds. A year or two later I killed an-
other at Manioouagan, thirty miles west of here, some time in
September.
LIST OF BIRDS 485
198. Limoia Audiontca.— Hudbonian Godwit. — Rare. Sept.
irth, 1896.
194. Tatanus ^emtpoZmato.— Willbt. — A few atraggiers. Aug
2l8t, 1886, Sept. 19th, 1896.
196. ActituTus bartramitLS. — Fibld Plovbr. — ^Not oommon.
May 12th, Aug. 20tih, 1883, May 16th, 1887, Sept. 2iMi, 1906. '
196. Porzana Carolina, — CihOLiNA Rail. — ^Not oommon. Breeds.
AugoBt 24th, 1906, August 17th, 1907, August 10th and 16th,
1886.
197. Arias hoseJias, — Mallard.— Not oommon. Sept. 18th,
1889, Oot. 9th, 1907, Oct. 2Lit, 1908.
198. Alias ohscura ruhripes, — Rbd-lbgqsd Black Dxtok. — Com-
mon. Since the issue of ''Distribution and Migration of North
Amerioan Ducks, Geese and Swans," IJ. S. Dept. of Agriculture,
1906, I have given some attention to this variety of the ''black
duck," and find that about one half the birds we kill here have
the red legs, which to me seems to be the only difference between
the two species. Nov. 19th, 1907, I saw several large flocks of
black ducks migrating south. Have seen some stragglers later
than that.
199. Aix sponsa. — ^Wood D-uok. — ^Very rare. Have seen a
straggler now and then. May 17th, 1896.
200. Fvligula marila. — Bmift-BiLL. — Tolerably oommon in Sep-
tember and October. Often seen with golden-eye duck. Sept.
28rd, 1896.
201. Somateria stelleriu—STmLLERB Eider. — Rare. I sent the
skin of this bird to Dr. Merriam for identification, and giving
him the date which unfortunately I have either lost or mislaid.
March, 1896 P
202. Erismatura ruhida. — Ruddy Dtjok.— Rare. May 8th,
1896.
203. Mergui cuciiWotuj.— Hoodbd Mbrqansbr.— Rare. Sept.
4th, 1886. Sept. 10th, 1889.
204. Tachypetes aflutlu*.— Man-of-war Bird.— Only one speci-
men ever seen here, and that on August 13th, 1884. The bird
seemed very shy and I could not get within range. The next day,
August 14th, it was observed at Manioouagan, from the ligjht
ship by Captain Leblano.
206. Sterna Wnindo.— Common Tbrn.— Common during the
migratiods. Breeds furtber north. May 20th, 1884. Is an early
date for them.
430 LIST OF BIRDS
906. Thalauogtron cuUninaUu. — ^Yiuow-nobid Ajlbatbobb. —
Aooidental. ISiia bird wm killed si Moisi«, seT«atj miles east
of Godbout, on the 20th <rf Augaat, 1886. It wae ebot by Mr.
CoaiUard Dequres, m fiebarmaii and aoquaintasoe of mine. I
•aw the bird tluree or foar da^ after be killed it. I adriaed
bam to aend the skin to the Laral Uniyenity Muaeam^ Qnebec,
where it ia now preeerred. I enter this bird in my list as being
of special interest, although not actually taken within the ori-
ginal limit giTsn. Mr. Montagoe Ohamberlain has published a
short artide on this speoimen whioh he saw at Laval UniTersi-
ty Moaeam. See Attk for Jaik 1888 p. 107, and for July, 1888,
p. 818.
907. ProeeUutia pdagiea^ — Stormt Pitril. — ^Not common.
May 18th, 1886, October 6th, 1889.
906. PuffinU major. — Qbbatib Shbaewatsr. — ^Rare. Aagust
11, 1896. Only one seen.
Nora.— The dates given in the aboTe list indicate when the
birds were sbot for identificaticm and only these
are entered. Where many apedmens were secured
or wiiii the most common birds, the earliest or
latest dates were entered in preference.
I hara also shot hero the following Albino birds : —
RoD-TKBOAraD DiVB One specimen.
RxnvLiD Gboubi
LoNQ-TAZLiD DtTCK. — Harelda glacidLis
DovBKiB. — Merg%du9 aUe
YBSPia Spabbow. — Pooeeetes gramineus
Omi SuBV Soooraa. — 0. perspieiUdia
The five ftrat were sent to Dr. G. H. Merriam, and are all in
the Smithsonian OoUeotioiii, I beHeve. The last was sold to Mr.
Wm. Ck>aper, Taxidermist, of Montreal. Besides this I have
seen here one albino eider and another scooter, probably of the
speoies of 0. Americana.
Hfet of iUttgtrationg
Author's Portrait Frontispiece
Pagb
Bird's-eye viow of tibe Lower Godbout Facing 64
Falls at the Upper Pool of tlie Godbout " 54
Lynx in Trap <c qq
The late John Brown " qq
Qlaoial Bed at St. Panoras Cove " 66
'*Entogan" (Bone spear) on 114
"Negog" (Indian salmon spear) " 115
Harp Seal pacing 126
Newly-born Harbor Seal " 126
Hooded Seal <« 126
Hauling Seals Ashore " 126
Falls of the Mistassini River ** 172
Salmon Pool on the Mistassini Eiver '* 172
Pio-nio at a Salmon Net Station " 184
A Lobster-fishing Party " 184
Major and Mrs. Scott with Trophies <ind Guides.. '< 222
Mr. Joe Cknneau " 280
Pointe des Monts LightLouse *' 284
Flaying a Seal " 284
Entrance of the Mistassini River <' 284
Mission House, Bersimis Indian Reserve << 262
English Bay River, Manioouagan " 262
Shoulder Blade Reading « 266
Goose Shooting Party " 276
(3oose Shooting Camp " 276
Map showing migrations of Willow Ptajrmigan on 289
Three Golden Eagles Facing 812
Snaring Hares-— The Result ** 812
Angelique Miohel " 882
438
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Pagb
Old Gabriel and Gluts. Moreau's family Facing 382
346
346
406
406
406
on 488
SS. Aranmore, tlie N. S. mail boat of to-day.
North Shore Mail Boat of 60 years ago
Founders of Weymahegan Salmon Club
Fishing the ''Shay" Pool, Godbout River
Hie Lairds of the Godbout
Head of Male Salmon (Spawning Time)
The end of the salmon spawning season finds many an old male
salmon with a hooked lower jaw, similar to that from
which the artist has made the following draw-
ing, and so the end of the book finds a
Head for a Tail piece.
(See Page 179.)
Wabit o! Contents
Pagb
Dedieation 3
Introduotion 6
Preface 11
Early Life 18
My Return from Sohool 29
"Unaoooimtables" luid other shots 86
SliiOoting aocidente 46
Api>omted Guardian of Godbout 61
I oommenoo Trapping 69
Trapping Lynx 66
Beaver 70
Marten and other small Mammals 76
Pennant's Marten or Fisher 80
Bear stories 86
Poachers 109
A True Ghost Story 116
Seals and Seal Shooting on the St. Lawrence 186
An Old-Time Caribou Hunt 161
A Tragedy on the North Shore 161
On Angling 168
The Salmon and its Migrations 176
Lost in the Wilderness 196
The I>eath of Robitaille 216
Major Hy. Scott and How He Lost his Cane 218
What to do if Lost in the Woods 228
Across the St. Lawrence 284
Our Return Journey 267
Shoulder Blade Reading 264
Duck Shootij g 267
Goose Shooting 276
440 TABLE OF CONTENTS
Pagb
A Little Swan Shoot 280
Groooe and other Land Birds 284
Some Easy Ways of Gettin«s Birds 296
An Indian's Opinion oi Sir Edmnnd Head 800
The Great Horned Owl 304
Three Golden Eagles 310
A Short and Easy Wolf Hunt 314
Ea^ Wolf Hunt in Wyoming 819
Charles Morean 824
Dr. W. H. Dmnunond 883
Mail Serrice 887
Trout 847
What is a Sea TroutP 862
A Luofcy Oast 866
Salmon jP^^rs 369
Salmo^^m^rds on our Best Rivers 868
" '"* < on the St. John 868
" " " " Mbisie 874
" " " " Trout River 878
Fifty Tears' Salmon Fishing on the Godbout 380
Bird List 417
Liat of Illustrations 437
UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA LIBRARY
BERKELEY
Return to desk f rcnn which borrowed.
This book is DUE <ni the last date stamped below.
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LD 31-100«»-7,'52(A2S28ll«)4T6
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