A new scene—The Esquimau—Deer-slaying—Enemies in the bush.

Turn we now to another, a more distant, and a wilder scene. Near the bleak shores of Hudson’s Straits there flows a river which forms an outlet to the superfluous waters of the almost unknown territory lying between the uninhabited parts of Labrador and that tract of desert land which borders Hudson’s Bay on the east, and is known to the fur-traders by the appellation of East Main. This river is called the Caniapuscaw, and discharges itself into Ungava Bay.

The scene to which we would turn the reader’s attention is upwards of twenty miles from the mouth of this river, at a particular bend, where the stream spreads itself out into a sheet of water almost worthy of being called a lake, and just below which two bold cliffs shut out the seaward view, and cause an abrupt narrowing of the river. The scene is peculiar, and surpassingly grand. On each side of the stream majestic mountains raise their bald and rugged peaks almost into the clouds. Little herbage grows on the more exposed places, and nothing, save here and there a stunted and weather-worn pine, breaks the sharp outline of the cliffs. But in the gorges and dark ravines—for there are no valleys—clumps of small-sized spruce—fir and larch trees throw a softness over some of the details of a spot whose general aspect is one of sterility. The mountains rise in a succession of irregular steps or terraces, whose faces are so precipitous that they cannot be ascended. To accomplish the feat of scaling the mountain-tops it would be necessary to clamber up a ravine until the first terrace should be gained, then, walking along that, ascend the next ravine, and so on. At the upper end of the lake (as we shall hereafter call this wide part of the river) lies a low island, fringed with a scanty growth of willows; and not far from this, on the eastern bank of the river, lies a small patch of level sand. This spot is somewhat peculiar, inasmuch as it is backed by a low platform of rock, whose surface is smooth as a table. At the foot of this rock bubbles a little spring, which, meandering through a tangled spot of stunted shrubbery ere it mingles with the sand, gives unusual green-ness and vitality to the surrounding herbage. On the edge of this rocky platform sat the figure of a man.

It was evening. The declining sun shot its last few rays over the brow of the opposite mountains, and bathed him in mellow light, as he sat apparently contemplating the scene before him. The man’s costume bespoke him a native of the savage region in the midst of which he seemed the only human being. But although an Esquimau, he exhibited several physical peculiarities not commonly supposed to belong to that people. To an altitude of six feet three he added a breadth of shoulder and expansion of chest seldom equalled among men of more highly-favoured climes; and his real bulk being very greatly increased by his costume, he appeared to be a very giant—no unfitting tenant of such giant scenery. The said costume consisted of an extremely loose coat or shirt of deerskin, having the hair outside, and a capacious hood, which usually hung down behind, but covered his head at this time, in order to protect it from a sharp north-west breeze that whirled among the gullies of the mountains, and surging down their sides, darkened the surface of the water. A pair of long sealskin boots encased his limbs from foot to thigh; and a little wallet or bag of sealskin, with the hair outside, hung from his shoulders. Simple although this costume was, it had a bulky rotundity of appearance that harmonised well with the giant’s frank, good-humoured countenance, which was manly, firm, and massive, besides being rosy, oily, and fat. In the latter peculiarity he partook of the well-known characteristic of his tribe; but the effeminacy in appearance that is produced by a round, fat face was done away in the case of our giant by a remarkably black though as yet downy moustache and beard, of a length suitable to twenty-three winters. His hair was long, straight, and black, besides being uncommonly glossy—an effect attributable to the prevalence of whale-oil in these regions. On the forehead the locks were cut short, so as to afford free scope to his black eyes and sturdy-looking nose. By his side lay a long hunting spear, and a double-bladed paddle, fully fifteen feet long; which latter belonged to a kayak, or Esquimau canoe, that lay on the sand close to the water’s edge. Sitting there, motionless as the rocks around him, the giant looked like a colossal statue of an Esquimau. He was no figure of stone, however, but a veritable human being, as was proved by his starting suddenly from his reverie and hastening towards the spring before mentioned, at which he stooped and drank rapidly, like one who had to make up for lost time.

After a few hurried gulps, the man strode towards his canoe; but as he went his restless eye became fixed on the branching antlers of a deer, that were tossed in the air on the summit of a neighbouring cliff. Like one who is suddenly paralysed, the Esquimau stood transfixed in the attitude in which he had been arrested. He did not even seem to breathe, as the antlers moved to and fro, clearly defined against the blue sky. At length they disappeared, and the animal to which they belonged slowly descended a ravine towards the river. Then, as if set free from a spell, the man glided into his kayak, and swept rapidly b............