Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1882-12-07
A Night Camp on Lake Winnipeg.

We now take direct course for
Montreal Point, our guide running be-
fore, in steady, swinging trot pecul-
lar to Indian runners, while our dogs
follow in good fern. At intervals We
drop into light slumber, to be sud-
denly awakened by the loud crack of q
loaded whip and the responsive cry of
lazy dog. AS the sun is setting In
the west, going down into the appa-
rently boundless lake, we halt on the
edge of huge drift, near the shore.
which is at this point dotted with
thickets of spruce and balsam, and get
out of our carrioles stiff1y enough after
our long journey. The sleds are drawn
into the timber, and our little party go
at the work of clearing with snow
shoes place for the camp. This &C
complished, the fire is built, green
boughs are laid for our beds, blankets
and robes are brought forth, and while
we stretch ourselves lazily before the
bright fire Of tamarack, our guide pre-
pares supper, and his assistants I'M
harness the dogs and prepare their
meal of fresh white fish. As we recline
in perfect comfort, a shrike or butcher
bird, the first life we have seen in the
woods to-day, hops from the bcugh
above us, and helps itself from the
pemmican-bag; then flies saucilv over
our heads toward his cache, to return
in few moments for more. The
shrike is truly a camp-bird, and on dis
covering the smoke from some newly
built camp fire. as it curls upward
| through the trees, does not rest till it
| has reached the camp and sampled the
cookery. The Indian seldom molests
this arch thief, but laughs quietly at its
| saucy chatter, having a belief that, In
days past, Wah-se-i-ka-chak, as he calls
| it, has been in some way of service to
his people. After hearty supper of
pemmican, potato, and hammock, we sit
| and listen to the monotOnous tones of
the Indians, who are recounting jour-
neys TO different parts of the far-north
country, while they smoke their tiny
stone pipes, filed with a mixture of
willow bark and tobacco. Our twelve
dogs are grouped on the solid drift,
near the shore. The largest dog oc-
cupies the most elevated part OF the
bank, the place of honor, while the
others sit solidly on their launches and
gaze steadily at their leaders, who is
now the picture of profundity, with
| far-off, dreamy look in his eyes which
his fellows are making vain attempt
| to initiate. The moon is coming up
now, and as it softly rises, causing the
| frost-covered trees to glisten in its
| light, the leader utters plaintive wall,
| which is taken up by his companions,
1 o. hn WI
forth louder cry. another, and soon
the whole pack there in the weird
light are bowling in fearful discord.
| Suddenly the leader ceases, and gradu-
ally the others become quiet, and curl
themselves about the fire. The Indians
soon are snoring in heavy sleep, the
fire burns low. the trees crackle with
frost, we hear commingling Of sounds,
and. at last, sleep too.
We rest com fortably, with nothing
above our heads save the beautiful
dome of heaven, with its twInkling
stars, which are dimmed at times by
the magnificent and ever-changing
aurora, which here reaches its greatest
brilliancy. The Indians call this elec-
trio phenomena Wah-wah-tao. and
fancy it to be the spirits of the depart
ed dancing on the borders OF the Land
of the Hereafter. While it is yet dark
our drivers arise, with sundry grunts
and remarks in Indian language rsla-
tive to the probable weather and winds
of the coming day, and soon large
fire, cracking and sending sparks over
our heads without regard to conse-
| quences, is the alarm which brings us
quickly from our snug beds. Break
fast dispatched, our dogs are placed in
/ harness, we take seats in the carrioles,
and are away with speed through the
gray light of dawn.-From "Coasting
on Lake Winnipeg" by Edmund A..
Struthers, in the Christmas SO. Nich0-
las.