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Updated: June 8, 2025
"The Nascaupee River," I said, "and I came down by the same river again." "When did you come out to Grand Lake?" he said. "Yesterday," I replied. "And how did you get across the lake? "I did not come across at all, but I followed the south shore all the way." Then he told me where the Nascaupee River was, and where it came out from to the Grand Lake within 4 miles northeast from here.
The Nascaupee River is a nice big river compared to the Susan and Beaver River, and much wider and deeper. When we came along here in the summer, we saw this bay where the Nascaupee River comes out from, from a distance; but we thought it was just only a bay, and high mountains all round, and we never thought a river came out from there. So we did not go in there at all.
The portage led north one hundred yards to a little lake one mile long and less than one quarter wide, and here we found ourselves at the very head of the Nascaupee River.
It is forty miles long and four miles wide, and only a little wind is needed to make such a body of water impassable for loaded canoes. M. Duclos had offered his yacht to take us to the mouth of the Nascaupee River, but when we were ready to start there was not enough wind to carry her past the rapid, and we decided not to wait.
It is asserted that a priest once crossed with the Indians from Northwest River Post to Ungava Bay by the Nascaupee route; but the result of my inquiries in Labrador convinced me that the priest in question travelled by way of the Grand River, making it certain that previous to Hubbard's expedition no white man other than McLean had ever crossed the wilderness between Hamilton Inlet and Lake Michikamau by any route other than the aforesaid Grand River.
We climbed a low hill close at hand to view the scene, and while we looked the red faded into orange, and the lake was transformed into a mirror, which reflected the surrounding trees like an inverted forest. In the direction from which we had come we could see the high blue hills beyond the Nascaupee, very dim in the far distance.
Pete stretched our tent wigwam fashion on some old Indian tepee poles, and, without troubling ourselves to break brush for a bed, we all soon joined Stanton in a dreamless slumber upon his rocky couch. A magnificent panorama lay before us. Opposite, across the valley of the Nascaupee, a great hill held its snow-tipped head high in the heavens.
Eight days, Pete said, would see them from this point to the cache we had made on the Nascaupee, and only eight days' rations would they accept for the journey. They were more than liberal. Richards insisted that I take a new Pontiac shirt that he had reserved for the cold weather, and Pete gave me a new pair of larigans. They deprived themselves that we might be comfortable.
This was very gratifying intelligence, as Nipishish was said to be nearly half way to Seal Lake, from where we had begun our portage on the Nascaupee. What a supper we had that night of fresh venison, and new "squaw bread," hot from the pan!
At its mouth the Nascaupee is divided by an island into two streams, and this island is so thickly covered with trees, and the streams on either side of it are so narrow, that when we crossed along in front of the bay no break in the line of woods at the mouth of the river was perceptible. Perhaps it will be said we should have explored the bay.
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