A Trip to Manitoba | Page 5

had made
us long to carry away more than a memory of its outlines; and so,
winding in and out amongst the islands of this North American
archipelago, we "fetched" the Saulte Ste. Marie about sunset. [Footnote:
The island-studded northern expanse of Lake Huron is known as
Georgian Bay. As the level of Lake Superior is between thirty and forty
feet higher than that of Lake Huron, there is a corresponding fall at the
head of the St. Mary River. This difference of level prevents direct
navigation between the two lakes; consequently, the Americans have
constructed across the extreme 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