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Updated: May 25, 2025
Here I said "good-bye" to old Weeso. He grinned affably, and when I asked what he would like for a present said, "Send me an axe like yours," There were three things in my outfit that aroused the cupidity of nearly every Indian, the Winchester rifle, the Peterboro canoe and the Marble axe, "the axe that swallows its face."
I took one photograph, and as I crawled to get one nearer, a shot passed over my head, and the merry cackle told me that Weeso had yielded to temptation and had 'collected' that fawn.
Taking no account of several individuals that joined a number of times but finally resigned, the following, after they had received presents, provisions, and advance pay, were the crew secured to man the York boat on the "3 or 4" days' run to Pike's Portage and then carry my goods to the first lake. Weeso. The Jesuits called him Louison d'Noire, but it has been corrupted into a simpler form.
Second, he had the most wonderful nose for firewood; no keen-eyed raven or starving wolf could go more surely to a marrow-bone in cache, than could Weeso to the little sticks in far away hollows or granite clefts.
Weeso got greatly excited; these were the forerunners of the vast herd. He said, "Plenty Caribou now," and grinned like a happy child. I went in one direction, taking only my camera. At least 20 Caribou trotted within 50 feet of me. Billy and Weeso took their rifles intent on venison, but the Caribou avoided them and 6 or 8 shots were heard before they got a young buck.
But there was something in the camp that amply offset these annoyances; this was a spirit of kindness and confidence. Old Weeso was smiling and happy, ready at all times to do his best; his blundering about the way was not surprising, all things considered, but his mistakes did not matter, since I had Tyrrell's admirable maps.
We camped on a sand-bar and waited till night; most exasperating when we are already behind time. They caught a Jack-fish. Reached Stony Island at night, after many stops and landings. They eat by themselves and have their own cook. Billy cooks for us, i.e., Preble, Weeso, and myself.
Weeso had a rifle, we could not spare or send him a canoe, so I promised to send him the axe. Post is slow, but it reached him six months later and I doubt not is even now doing active service. Having missed the last steamer, we must go on by canoe.
Freesay had said little or nothing, and had always worked well and cheerfully. Weeso was old and weak, Freesay young and strong, and therefore he was the one for our canoe. I decided it would pay to subsidise Weeso to resign in favour of the younger man. But, to be sure, first asked Freesay if he would like to come with me to the land of the Musk-ox.
As usual, we landed Preble, Billy, and I to study topography, Weeso to get firewood, and curiously enough, there was more firewood here than we had seen since leaving Artillery Lake. The reason of this appeared later. I was utterly puzzled. We had not yet found Aylmer Lake, and had discovered an important river that did not seem to be down on any map.
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