stretches of easy water. The fall between the cañon and the head of easy water is seven hundred and thirty feet, which, in a distance of fourteen miles, gives fifty-two feet descent to the mile. This would not be at all dangerous over a uniform slope and a smooth bottom, but divide it into two or three rapids, and throw a lot of large rocks into them, and it makes running through them in a small boat exciting to say the least. Fortunately for us, we got everything through safely, the only inconvenience being that the canoes had to be bailed out at every rapid. It is often said that "it is the unexpected that always happens." This, my experience on this trip verifies in a small way. My canoe had come through all the various vicissitudes and dangers of a thousand miles, and had safely run over this the last rough water it would have to encounter, but in the last yard it struck on the end of an unseen stick, which fractured the side so that the canoe would have filled in a short time. It was unloaded, the fracture filled with white lead, the side pressed back to its original shape and fixed there by a piece fitted to the inside, and rivetted with wrought nails, and the canoe was again to all intents as good as before.

Mountain goats and big-horn sheep abound in the hills around the pass. While going through I saw how the Indians, by stratagem, sometimes secure cariboo and moose, when the snow is not deep and they are consequently hard to approach. A ravine which is full of snow is selected, and round it, on the lower side, is built a brush fence, which is extended outwards and backwards to the uplands on each side, diverging until the ends are some miles apart. The fence consists merely of crotched sticks stuck into the snow at suitable distances, with poles laid horizontally in the crotches, due care being taken to cut and mark it so that the agency of man in its erection is made very evident. A party then scours the country around the mouth of the trap, all the time gradually approaching it, driving any animals in the vicinity, by noises and other means, between the arms, which the brutes avoid as soon as they see. They are thus gradually driven to the snow pit at the end where they are easily despatched. Had the brutes sense enough they could easily dash through the fence, but they will not approach it.

From the foot of the rapids to Peel River the current is very slow, and about four miles down the river branches, the southern branch spreading out into numerous lakes, in which we were a day paddling around trying to find our way out. In most of them the ice was still floating. Had the Indian taken the north channel we would have saved nearly a whole day in time, but he thought the south channel was the right one until we were lost in it, and then recollected that we should have taken the other one. These channels join again below the lakes and continue on to Peel

River.

The surface here is flat and swampy, with much good timber. Although this was the most northerly point reached (about 67° 45') the trees on this flat were as large on the average as those seen anywhere else on the survey. The Indian told me they called this part of the river Poplar River, from the fact that much of that wood grows along its banks near the mouth. That poplar grows on it is no very distinguishing feature, so I propose to name it Trout River, from the abundance of trout that are caught in it up in the mountains. According to the Indian's story they are very abundant.

Two streams join Trout River, one a mile below the cañon and the other just at the foot of the rapids. The first is about as large as Trout River above the confluence. The Indian gave me its name in his language, but it was almost unpronounceable. When translated it was in English "The river that is filled with snow." This name is given because up in the mountains the valley is drifted full of snow in winter, some often remaining until the next winter. He said if we went up the valley we would see the water running under snow arches for long distances. Î had seen a similar phenomenon on a small scale for two miles on a creek in McDougall Pass. The river comes from the south, and the trail from LaPierre's House to Fort McPherson crosses it. The other river, called Long Stick River, comes from the north-west, and is not more than eighty feet wide at its mouth.

Peel River was reached on the evening of the 19th June, and on the morning of the 20th, at eleven o'clock, we arrived at Fort McPherson.

SECTION 4.

Exploratory Survey from Fort McPherson to Fort Chipewyan by way of Peel and

Mackenzie Rivers, Great Slave Lake and River, and Lake Athabasca.

Fort McPherson is built on the east bank of Peel River, some fourteen miles above the point where it divides and joins the Mackenzie delta, which is common to both rivers.

The fort stands on a high bank, consisting of gravel, under which some shale can be seen close to the water. About a mile down the height of the bank decreases from fifty feet or thereabouts to ten or twelve, and consists wholly of alluvial deposits. The river at the fort is about half a mile wide, with moderate current.

The country surrounding the delta of the Mackenzie has evidently been a part of the Arctic Ocean which has been filled up with deposits brougnt down by the river. On this soil the growth of timber is, for the latitude, very large and thick, many spruce of from twelve to fifteen inches diameter occurring along Peel River, as well as along the Mackenzie for some miles up.

At Fort McPherson I at once set about making preparations to resume the micrometer survey and carry it from this point to Fort Chipewyan, on Lake Athabasca, there to connect with my micrometer survey of Athabasca and Peace Rivers. The 21st and part of the 22nd of June were spent in this way.

On the 21st I tried to make some observations for latitude; but as the sun never set I could get only one or two meridian altitudes of first magnitude stars in addition to that of the sun. The instrument used was faulty, so that the result, 67° 26', cannot be accepted with much confidence, as it may be in error a minute or more.

I observed on the sun, east and west, for azimuth, and that night did what no other Dominion Land Surveyor has, I think, ever done, viz., took the sun's lower or midnight transit across the meridian for time.

On the 22nd I took a set of magnetic observations, and all the necessary preparations for the survey being completed, started the work at six o'clock that evening, completing about seven miles.

I could find no one around McPherson who knew much about Peel River, and as my own observations were confined to that part of it below the fort, I am not able to say much about it. The distance from the fort to where the river branches into the Mackenzie delta is thirteen miles, and through the delta to Mackenzie River proper, thirty-one and a half miles.

Between Peel River and the Mackenzie about two-thirds of the channel in the delta averages more than a quarter of a mile wide; the remainder about one hundred yards. All of it was deep when I passed through, and the Hudson's Bay Company's steamer "Wrigley," drawing five feet of water, finds no difficulty in navigating it.

The banks do not rise more than ten or fifteen feet above the water, and the current is continually wearing away the soft deposit and carrying it down to the lower part of the delta and the Artic Ocean.

Where we enter the Mackenzie proper the channel is three-fourths of a mile wide, but it is only one of four, there being three large islands there. The whole width of the river cannot be less than three or four miles.

Looking northward down the westerly channel the view is bounded by the sky, and widens in the distance so that one can fancy he is looking out to sea. This can hardly be so; but from the altitude of the bank where I stood, added to my own height, the horizon must have been six miles away; and a bank in the channel of equal height to that on which I stood would have been visible twice that distance. Now, if the supposed bank was timbered, as was that on which I stood, it would be visible ten or twelve miles farther, but none was in sight.

From the entrance of the small channel of Peel River to the head of the upper island in the Mackenzie is nine miles. From the west shore to the southerly point of this island is a mile and a quarter; from the island to the east shore the distance is nearly as great, showing the river to be more than two miles wide at this point.

However, it gradually narrows, and five miles above this is little over a mile wide, which it averages up to the narrows, about sixty miles from Fort McPherson, or twenty-eight from where we entered it.

A north wind raises quite a swell here, and the salty odor of the sea air is quite perceptible above the delta.

The banks continue low and the country flat on both sides of the river for some nine miles above the islands.

The shore on the east side is sloping, while that on the west is generally perpendicular, showing the action of the current, which is wearing into and carrying away portions of it. This form of bank changes into steep shale rock, that on the east being about fifty feet high and that on the west apparently sixty to eighty. Both banks are perpendicular, and gradually increase in height as far as the Narrows, where they are probably one hundred and fifty feet above the water. The easterly bank through the Narrows is almost a sheer precipice to the water, but that on the westerly side is not quite so abrupt.

Red River enters the Mackenzie on its west side just at the foot of the Narrows. It is about two hundred yards wide at its mouth and appears to be shallow. As far as I could learn from persons acquainted with the river, it comes from a flat, swampy country.

A winter trail crosses from Fort McPherson to the Mackenzie near the confluence of Red River, and the surface of the country along it is said to be covered with woods, marshes and ponds.

In the Narrows the Mackenzie is nearly three fourths of a mile wide for a distance of five or six miles, when it expands to its normal width of a mile or more. In one part of the Narrows there was not more than five feet of water on the west side of the river for some distance out from shore. In low water this becomes bare, and reduces the width of the river to half a mile for a short distance. Hence, this place is called the Narrows. The current here is swift, being not less than four and a-half miles per hour. Coming up the river, we turn sharply at this point from southeast to north-east, but after passing the Narrows we resume the former course.

A few miles above the Narrows the banks change from rock to clay and gravel, and continue generally steep and high as far as Fort Good Hope. In a few places the bank recedes from the river for a short distance, forming a low flat, on which generally grows some fair spruce timber. I noticed that these flats are being eaten away by the action of the current and waves. The greatest extent of level ground I saw is at the site of Fort Good Hope, on the west side of the river; but, as I came up the east side, I cannot say exactly what the timber there is like, but judging from appearance at the distance of a mile it is large and long.

its

From the delta up the river is clear of bars and islands during the stage of water at which I saw it, for a distance of about eighty miles. It then widens to two miles or more, and there are some scattered bars and small islands. The current is uniform, as one would expect in such an immense volume of water, and never exceeds four miles an hour. There are many places where, looking up and down the valley, the view is bounded by a water horizon, and it has more the appearance of a lake than a river.

Wherever possible the width of the river was determined by triangulation. Between the Narrows and Fort Good Hope it is never less than a mile wide and is often more than two, even reaching three miles at some points.

Since I followed the shore, I cannot speak of the depth of water from personal observation. Capt. Bell, of the Hudson's Bay Company's steamer" Wrigley," informed me that the shallowest water found by him in any part of the river, in what he considered the channel, was eleven feet. But as, when I saw him, he had made only two trips on the lower river, he could not speak very definitely as to its depth. Sir Alexander Mackenzie, who discovered the river and descended to its mouth in July, 1789, had a lead line with which to make soundings; but in the swift current a short distance above Fort Simpson his lead caught in the bottom, the line broke, and the lead was lost. I have the depths according to him, and will give them in their pro

per place. One would expect, in such an expanse of water as this, to find some of it shallow, but it appears from all the evidence I could gather that vessels drawing from eight to ten feet of water would find no difficulty in navigation as far as Great Slave Lake. Although the river is reported to be shallow where it leaves this lake, doubtless a channel could be found affording the draught above mentioned.

No rivers of importance flow into the Mackenzie between Red and Hare Indian Rivers. Sixty miles above Red River a stream one hundred yards wide enters from the north-east. I think this is a river which an old man at Fort Good Hope described to me as one up which a Hudson's Bay Company's officer went many years ago to its source, which he found to be not far from the head waters of Anderson River, which flows into the Arctic Ocean. It would appear from the old man's statement that several trips up it have been made since; but his information was vague, and I afterwards met no one who could give me a reliable account of this river.

One hundred and thirty miles farther on Loon River enters from the east. This river is from eighty to one hundred yards wide. The person from whom I received my information concerning the last mentioned stream had also explored this one for some distance and gave me the following notes: For eight miles there is good canoe navigation, then a rapid half a mile long occurs, at the head of which is a lake about three miles long and one broad, in which the Indians catch many fish. This is called "Rorrie Lake," and some distance above it is another some two miles in diameter, and called "Round Lake" from its shape. Above this again there is a succession of lakes for many days' travel.

Twenty miles above the mouth of the last mentioned stream, Hare Indian River flows into the Mackenzie on its east side. It is about two hundred yards wide at its mouth, and is said to preserve this width for a long distance. The Indians report that this stream rises in a range of hills on the north-west side of Great Bear Lake, but about its navigability I could learn nothing. There was an old Indian at Fort Good Hope who had been up to the head waters of this river several times; but because he saw me taking an observation in daylight, and learned that I could see the stars at that time, he would give no information, saying: "A man who could see stars in daylight could just as easily see the whole river.

Fort Good Hope is built on the east side of the Mackenzie, two miles and a quarter above Hare Indian River, and two below the ramparts. It was originally about one hundred and twenty miles down the river from this point, but was subsequently moved to the Upper Manitou Island, whence it was swept by a flood in 1836. It was then built on its present site. The Hudson's Bay Company has quite a large establishment at this point, consisting of half a dozen houses and some stables. The Roman Catholic Church has a mission here, and their church is said to possess one of the best finished interiors in the country.

Two miles above the fort we enter what is known in the vicinity as the "Ramparts;" though in the more south-westerly part of the country it would be called the "Cañon." Here, for a distance of seven miles, the river runs between perpendicular and occasionally overhanging walls of rock. At the lower end they rise one hundred and fifty feet above the water, but their height decreases as we near the upper end, at which point they are not more than fifty or sixty feet. At the lower end the cañon is nearly a mile wide, but its walls gradually converge until, about three miles up, the width is not more than half a mile, and this continues to the upper end. Sir Alexander Mackenzie when passing through sounded at its upper end, and found three hundred feet of water, which accounts for the fact that, although the cañon is so narrow, the current is not perceptibly increased.

About a mile above the Ramparts there is a rapid when the water is low, but when I passed there was no sign of it. We paddled right over where the worst part is said to be, and noticed nothing but a current somewhat quickened, but not sufficiently so to prevent our ascent with ease. On the east side of the river the rapid is unsafe for small boats during low water, but two-thirds of the way across to the west shore the water is deep and safe. I was told that several travellers, while

passing in boats, have tried without success to find bottom with long poles. The rapid is caused by a ledge of rock extending across the river, apparently the upper edge of the rock through which the Ramparts have been worn. Over this ledge the river simply drops. The Hudson's Bay Company's steamer has not yet encountered any difficulty in passing up and down.

When on his way down the river, Sir Alexander Mackenzie met some Indians some distance above this place. After confidence had been established by means of presents, he prepared to start onward; and, although his newly made friends told him there was great danger ahead in the form of a rapid or cataract which would swallow him and his party without fail, he continued, they following and warning him of his danger. He advanced cautiously into the Ramparts but could hear or see nothing to verify their statements. At last, when through, they admitted that the only bad water to be encountered was now passed, but that behind the island, just below, was a bad spirit or monster, which would devour the whole party. Failing there, the next island below would surely reveal him. From these statements the two islands have received the names of Upper and Lower Manitou, respectively.

In the fall of 1887 a whale made its way up the river to the Ramparts, remaining there the whole season, and before the river froze over it was often seen blowing. At first the Indians were afraid, but they soon became accustomed to the sight, and shot at the whale whenever it approached the shore. In the spring its dead body was beached by the ice on the west shore seven or eight miles below Fort Good Hope, and the Indians used part of it for dog food. I enquired of its dimensions from several who had seen it. They described it as about twice as long as one of their canoes and thicker through than their own height. This would mean a length of from twentyfive to twenty-eight feet. I have often heard it stated that all the channels of the Mackenzie delta are shallow, but the presence of this whale assures us that one of them at least is over six feet deep.

A short distance above the Ramparts a river flows into the Mackenzie on its west side. I saw it only across the river, but it appeared to be about two hundred yards wide at its mouth. All I could learn about it at the fort was that it came from far up in the mountains.

Above the Ramparts the Mackenzie suddenly expands to over a mile in width. The banks, as a rule, are much lower than they are below, while in some places swamps occur close to the stream, something never noticed below the Ramparts.

Twenty-one miles above Fort Good Hope, Beaver River joins on the west, but as I continued on the east side I saw only its mouth, which appeared to be one hundred yards wide. An Indian with me said that it took its name from the number of beavers formerly found on it. This stream rises in the mountains, but does not seem to be of any importance.

Forty-eight miles from Fort Good Hope, Sans Sault Rapid is reached. This, like the rapid at the head of the Ramparts, is all on one side of the river, which is here a mile and a quarter wide. As I went up the west side, and the rapid was on the other, extending but little more than a third of the way across, I cannot say that I saw anything of it. I heard the roar plainly enough, but saw nothing except a swift current. It is caused by a ledge of rocks extending partially across the river. Capt. Bell reports deep water in the channel at the end of the ledge, and the steamer has no serious trouble in ascending. In very low water it is said that this rock is scarcely covered.

A ridge of hills here extends beyond the river from the Rocky Mountains, occasional glimpses of which can be caught from the water. Just east of the rapids above mentioned a ridge extends eastward from the river for some miles. The highest point in the end nearer the river was triangulated, and the height determined as one hundred and fifty-five feet above the water. To the north and east of this are several peaks, but they are scattered and isolated from each other. On the west side of the river the bills are some distance away. The rock of which these hills are composed is limestone, as far as I observed. I saw some specimens of clay iron stone, but not in place.