The Line in the Sand

8

The fur-bearing animals of this territory are without a doubt but a remnant of the numbers which at one time inhabited these districts. There is scarcely a spot where the Indian or half-breed trapper has not found these fur-coated animals, studied their habits, and, by his native cunning killed the greater number of them and secured their valuable skins. The most numerous of the fur-bearing animals are, the bear, marten, mink, fox and muskrat. The beaver, otter, fisher and wolf are very scarce. Especial mention may be made of the beaver which are fast becoming extinct. They were never seen in large families, and as evinced by their work, have been driven from their homes and are now scattered broadcast.

George R. Gray to the HON. E. J. DAVIS, Commissioner of Crown Lands. LAND AND TIMBER ESTIMATOR'S REPORT OF EXPLORATION SURVEY PARTY NO. 3. TORONTO, Ontario. Jan. 7, 1901.

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Due to Gray's proficiency as leader and our efficiency of work, by late July we were well ahead of schedule. The area we were to assigned to survey had been sufficiently explored and with the time remaining in our contract, Gray decided we should venture to the area west of Wahnapitae Lake and into the Spanish River Valley. Hence, we made our course to Wahnapitae with the aim to visit Sudbury for a brief resupply, after which we were to board the train to the Spanish River.

On our return journey down the Lower Sturgeon River, we encountered a family of Indians living in rough tent and timber dwellings on a sand beach. Here, the river spilled over a series of shallow rapids into a small lake. It was a beautiful location. The Indians were in the process of constructing a diversion channel in the river to create a pool where they would trap and spear migrating fish in the fall. It looked to be difficult work, involving moving many large stones. The Natives were standing knee and chest deep in the flowing water, wearing full leggings, using long logs as levers, prying and rolling the great stones, working together without hardly speaking a word. On the shore, women tended fires and naked children played and ran between the dwellings. Upon the approach of our party down the portage trail, the children rushed to greet us as though we were lost relatives. The adults-there were likely a dozen-were more cautious and said nothing as we portaged through their clearing. Here, the blueberries were thicker than we had seen anywhere thus far on our voyage.

When Jimmy lowered the canoe he was carrying, the Indians approached him and they spoke. In muffled grunts they greeted each other. There was hardly a smile exchanged yet Jimmy told us these people were his cousins. When I asked him later to explain the family connection, he only said, "He is the brother of my brother and sister." I questioned whether he meant to say the son of his father's brother, but Jimmy just laughed. Since it was nearing the end of the travel day, Jimmy spoke with the Indians, and they permitted us to share their campsite that night.

Among the natives here was an elderly woman, one who the family seemed to hold in high regard. She was provided with her own skin tent next to the river and had a very pleasing view of the rapids and the lake, and was exposed to a bug-free breeze. Jimmy was brought to her camp. From a distance, I observed the old woman sitting next to her tent. She had her head down and appeared to be deep in thought, or perhaps asleep. She was a tiny woman whose hair was both black and white, yet not grey. She seemed to be permanently crumpled and moved as though the weight of the ages was on her back. When Jimmy appeared, they mumbled a few words to each other and another Indian brought her some dry grass, which they lit from the fire and, in turn, fanned the smoke over themselves. The old woman entered her tent and Jimmy followed. The Indian extinguished the smouldering grass and stood outside the tent.

The first Indian, the man who greeted Jimmy when we arrived, invited our party to join them for their dinner. We were reluctant to contribute much to the meal since, from the moment it was decided we would be returning to Sudbury to resupply, we had increased our daily rations, and as a result, our provisions were nearing their end. It didn't matter, for that night we feasted on fresh caught pickerel, ruffed grouse, hare, berries, and bread made from the flour of cattail. These Indians had no provisions whatsoever from the trading posts, and if not for their guns, fabric and cookware, it would appear they were primitive savages. Other than the elderly woman, who we were told would only speak in the Algonkin language, these Indians did know some English, so there was at least one aspect of civilization about them.

During our meal, I asked the first Indian about the old woman. He explained that she is a Great Aunt who remembers the old ways. "She tells stories and warns us about getting too many things from your people. She teaches us so we don't forget how to live with the land." He swung his hand in a slow circle around the campsite. "She tells us one day, all of this will be lost." The Indian told of how the Great Aunt was from the Nipissing Lake Band, born on Great Manitou Island, long ago.

The next morning I questioned Jimmy about his visit with the old woman and he laughed. He said they had tea and talked of the old days and things yet to come. The Lake Nipissing Indians, he told me, were once a great Band, feared by the French who had to pass the Manitou Islands with their canoe brigades. They were considered sorcerers by the French, able to summon the spirit of Mishibizhiw and turn a calm lake into a sudden, violent storm. Then Jimmy laughed and spoke no more of his visit with the elder.