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Updated: June 10, 2025
Portaged from camp on Montagnais Lake, 1 mile west to another lake. No signs of Indians here. Camped at west end of this. Saw two caribou. Dropped pack and grabbed rifle; was waiting for them 250 yards away when a cussed little long-legged bird scared them. At point near camp where lakes meet, I cast a fly, and half pound and pound fontanalis, as fast as I could pull them out.
The next day we made another long portage round some rapids, and camped at night still in the hot, wet, sunless atmosphere of the gorge. The following day, April 6, we portaged past another set of rapids, which proved to be the last of the rapids of the chasm.
The gathering dusk of evening found all material and one boat at this spot, with the other one at the head of the rapid, to be portaged the next day. But we did not portage this boat.
After two more days they left the canoes, covered with fir-branches, on a beach, and pushed inland. A narrow trail led them across a high divide, seamed by deep gullies, where stunted pines and juniper grew among the rocks, and they portaged the loads by stages, carrying part for an hour or two, and then going back.
Our thermometer registered 28 degrees that morning. The day dawned clear and perfect; it was a morning when one draws in long breaths, and one's nerves tingle, and life is a joy. Early in the forenoon we reached rapids and quickly portaged around them; all were short, the largest being not more than half a mile.
In the moonlight ahead he could see the rock walls closing in until the channel was crushed between two precipitous ramparts, and the moon and stars, sending their glow between those walls, lighted up a frothing path of water that made Carrigan hold his breath. He would have portaged this place even in broad day. He looked at the girl in the bow.
We portaged into it the next morning, paddled a short distance up the stream, which is here some two hundred yards in width and rather shallow, then poled through a short rapid and tracked through two others, wading almost to our waists in some places. We now came to a widening of the river where it spread out into a small lake.
Large Wolves became quite numerous evidently we were now in their country. Apparently they had killed a Moose, as their dung was full of Moose hair. We were now in the Canyon of the Athabaska and from this on our journey was a fight with the rapids. One by one my skilful boatmen negotiated them; either we tracked up or half unloaded, or landed and portaged, but it was hard and weary work.
Friday, August 21st. Rain all day. Wind changed to north, colder. Portaged to little lake above camp. Found wigwams at each end of portage. Looks like old Montagnais trail. Then more lakes and short portages. Made 4 miles very easily, then, after pot of tea and big trout feed, portaged 1 mile west to another little lake, just over Height of Land.
Yes, we were hungry even after devouring the fourteen trout and drinking the water they were boiled in I could have eaten fifty like them myself but our spirits were high, and we made merry. For the first time since leaving Grand Lake there was good water behind us and good water before us. At the last rapid we portaged the country had flattened out.
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