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But none of his stories equalled the following, told once by Chief Factor Thompson. It happened years ago when an old Dog-rib Indian, called Meguir, was living and hunting in the vicinity of Fort Rae on Great Slave Lake.
But no doubt you know all these things without my telling you of them, and you are impatient to hear not about that, but whether the young voyageurs safely reached the end of their journey. That question I answer briefly at once they did. Some distance below the point where they had struck the Mackenzie, they fell in with a winter encampment of Dog-rib Indians.
The Dog-Ribs, they said, would respect anything that was in the house as knowing it to belong to the white people. Whilst the Indians were packing up this morning one of the women absconded. She belongs to the Dog-Rib tribe and had been taken by force from her relations by her present husband who treated her very harshly.
As before, the effect of the Indian stories on the Indians of his party was very marked and discouraging. With great difficulty Mackenzie overcame their objections to proceed, and even succeeded in persuading one of the Dog-rib Indians to accompany him by the potent influence of a small kettle, an axe, a knife, and a few other gifts.
The day was extremely warm and the mosquitoes, whose attacks had hitherto been feeble, issued forth in swarms from the marshes and were very tormenting. Having walked five miles we encamped near a small cluster of pines about two miles from the Dog-Rib Rock. The canoe party had not been seen since they set out.
On examination she proved to be one of the Western Dog-rib Indians, who had been taken prisoner by the Athapaska Indians in the summer of 1770.
On the 5th the Dog-Rib woman presented herself on a hill at some distance from the house, but was afraid to approach us until the interpreter went and told her that neither we nor the Indian who remained with us would prevent her from going where she pleased. Upon this she came to solicit a fire-steel and kettle.
We kept a straight course for the Dog-Rib Rock but, owing to the depth of the snow in the valleys we had to cross, did not reach it until late in the afternoon.
"He'll never make up his mind to go," observed Reuben, as, when about to set forth again, he looked at the pale countenance of the Dog-rib who had agreed to join the party.
The canoe-track passes to the eastward of this rock, but we kept to the westward, as being the more direct course. From the time we quitted the banks of Winter River we saw only a few detached clumps of trees; but after we passed Dog-rib Rock even these disappeared, and we travelled through a naked country.
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