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Updated: May 25, 2025
The great central inland of Clinton-Colden proved the best place of all for Groundsquirrels. Here we actually found them in colonies. On the 29th and 30th we paddled and surveyed without ceasing and camped beyond the rapid at the exit of Clinton-Colden. The next afternoon we made the exit rapids of Casba Lake. Preble was preparing to portage them, but asked Weeso, "Can we run them?"
A young buck now came trotting and grunting toward us till within 16 paces, which proved too much for Weeso, who then and there, in spite of repeated recent orders, started him on the first step toward my museum collection. I scolded him angrily, and he looked glum and unhappy, like a naughty little boy caught in some indiscretion which he cannot understand.
Next day, while scanning the country from the top of the mount, I saw three Caribou trotting along. They swam the river and came toward me. As Billy and Weeso were in their tents having an afternoon nap, I thought it would be a good joke to stampede the Caribou on top of them, so waited behind a rock, intending to jump out as soon as they were past me.
On this hill we divided, Preble and Billy going northward; Weeso and I eastward, all intent on finding a herd of Musk-ox; for this was the beginning of their range. There was one continual surprise as we journeyed the willows that were mere twigs on Aylmer Lake increased in size and were now plentiful and as high as our heads, with stems two or three inches thick.
All that day I revelled in Caribou, no enormous herds but always a few in sight. The next day Weeso and I went to the top ridge eastward. He with rifle, I with camera. He has a vague idea of the camera's use, but told Billy privately that "the rifle was much better for Caribou." He could not understand why I should restrain him from blazing away as long as the ammunition held out.
"'He's sending a prayer to Jesus for wind. Half an hour afterward a strong head-wind sprang up, and Weeso was severely criticised for not specifying clearly what was wanted. "There could be no question now about the propriety of landing.
There were many fresh tracks of single Caribou going here and there, but no trails of large bands. I sent Weeso off to the Indian village, two miles south. He returned to say that it was deserted and that, therefore, the folk had gone after the Caribou, which doubtless were now in the woods south of Artillery Lake. Again the old man was wholly astray in his Caribou forecast.
Then did I remember how John MacDonald settled the rebellion on the river. "Get in there," I said to Preble and Billy. "Come on, Weeso." We four jumped into the boat and proceeded to push off with all the supplies. Authorities differ as to the time it took for the crew to make up their minds. Two seconds and eleven seconds are perhaps the extremes of estimate.
I photographed one group of trees to illustrate their dainty elfish dwarfishness, but realising that no one could guess the height without a scale, I took a second of the same with a small Indian sitting next it. Weeso is a kind old soul; so far as I could see he took no part in the various seditions, but he was not an inspiring guide.
So I said, "You get right into this boat now and push off; we can easily work our way through." They made no reply, simply looked sulkier than ever, and proceeded to start a fire for meal No. 5. "Weeso," I said, "get into your place and tell your men to follow." The old man looked worried and did nothing, He wanted to do right, but he was in awe of his crew.
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