A Trip to Manitoba | Page 5

north-eastern point of the State of Michigan a fine canal, which gives them exclusive possession of the entrance by water to the great inland sea of Lake Superior. When, in 1870, the Red River Expedition, under Colonel (now General Sir) Garnet Wolseley, sought to make the passage in several steamboats en route for Thunder Bay, the State authorities of Michigan issued a prohibition against it. Fortunately, the Cabinet of Washington overruled this prohibition, and the Expedition was permitted to pass; not, however, until valuable time had been lost. Considering the importance of this canal to the Dominion Government, and that at a crisis the United States' Cabinet could close Lake Superior to our vessels of war, I think some steps should be taken by which the Imperial Government would become joint proprietors of the canal, with an equal share in its management at all times.] The "Saulte," as it is generally called, is a pretty little village, situated at the foot of a hill on the north shore of the canal. Having to remain an hour there, we went ashore, up the long straight street, to a frame-house, or store, where there was an extensive display of Indian work. The Lake Superior and Huron Red Indians are particularly noted for the beauty of their embroidery on skins, silk, birch bark, and cloth, in beads, porcupine quills, or silk. Their imitative genius is so great that the squaws can copy anything, and I know people who have had their crests and coats-of-arms embroidered upon their tobacco-pouches and belts, from an impression on paper or sealing-wax. Generally they copy flowers and ferns, invent their own patterns, or, what seems even more wonderful, make them by chewing a piece of bark into the form they require--the bark assuming the appearance of a stamped braiding pattern. As the white people put an exorbitant price on the flour and trinkets they give in exchange for the Indians' work, the latter ask, when selling for money, what seems more than its full value; but many who travel that way, provided with cheap trinkets and gaudy ribbons, get the work cheaply enough.
There is quite a large Roman Catholic church in the village; but we had to be content with a tiptoe peep through its windows, as after the "angelus" the door is locked. There are some small trading stores, a few scattered houses, long, pretty winding roads up the hills, skirted by cozy little farmhouses and wheat-fields, and one or two dwellings of more pretension occupied as summer residences by Americans. A little higher up, on the other side of the canal, lie the low white buildings of the American fort. That fortification, with its sentries and the national flag floating over the chief bastion, looked gay enough in the rays of the fast-setting sun. After remaining several hours to coal, we left the little village in the darkness, and when day dawned again found ourselves out in the broad waters of Lake Superior--called by the Indians "the Great Sea" (_Kichee Kumma_). For hours no land was to be seen on either side, but we were visited by two little birds, quivering with cold, weary from their long flight, almost too timid to alight upon our boat, yet too tired to resist the resting-place. Poor little wanderers! many a lonely emigrant, who had left all he loved behind to try his fortune in an unknown land, felt sympathy for them.
Seeing nothing but water and sky to interest us without, we turned our attention to our fellow-passengers within. At one end of the long saloon a zealous Cecilite, the centre of a mixed group, was "improving the occasion," Bible in hand--exhorting his hearers to turn from the error of their ways, and denouncing the world and its wickedness, as exemplified in the group of card-players close by. Their "I'll order it up!" "Pass!" "I'll play it alone!" mingled with the grave accents of the preacher, whose exhortations were answered by shouts of laughter and ringing glees from the other end of the boat, where stood the piano and its satellites. In vain the poor Cecilite tried "to stem the torrent" of what he considered "Satan's doings;" his obstinacy and want of tact only increased the mischievous delight of his enemies. At the sides of the saloon small knots of French Canadians chattered merrily; at the top of the stairs an emigrant or two were allowed to infringe the rule of "no deck passengers," because of the crowd on board. Poor things! One did not wonder that they escaped gladly from the jarring sounds and offensive smells below.
Early on Saturday morning we passed Silver Islet, that mine of wealth to our neighbours across the line. It lies in an island-dotted bay, and is so covered with mining works that