Rat’s Lodge

Image of a birchbark canoe on a Canadian River, from Glenbow Archive, image na-843-14, used with their permission

It is time for me to tell you the story of the Rat’s Lodge, as the British explorer, George Back, heard it from his guide, Maufelly in 1834–ten years before James Anderson learned the story. In Back’s words:

The eastern shore [of Artillery Lake], though dimmed by a blue mist or haze, was occasionally visible, and the country began to assume a more wooded and inhabitable look. When we got to a long and rounded mound about half a mile from the western side, I observed that both the Indians assumed a look of superstitious awe, and maintained a determined silence. I inquired the reason of this reverential demeanour; when Maufelly…informed us, that the small island we were passing was called the Rat’s Lodge, from an enormous musk rat which once inhabited it. “But what you see there,” said he, pointing to a rock on the opposite shore, with a conical summit, “that is the Beaver’s Lodge; and lucky shall we be if we are not visited with a gale of wind, or something worst. The chief would perhaps laugh at the story which our old men tell, and we believe, about that spot.” He then proceeded to narrate, with great earnestness and solemnity of manner, a traditionary tale which, as illustrative of Indian notions, may not be uninteresting to the reader. It is in substance as follows: “In that lodge there dwelt, in ancient times, a beaver as large as a buffalo; and as it committed great depredations, sometimes alone, and sometimes with the aid of its neighbour the rat, whom it had enticed into a league, the bordering tribes who suffered from these marauding expeditions, resolved upon its destruction. Accordingly, having consulted together on the best mode of executing their design, and arranged a combined attack; not, however, unknown to the wary beaver, which, it seems, had a spy in the enemy’s quarters. They set out one morning before the sun rose, and, under cover of a dense vapour which hung upon the lake, approached with noiseless paddle the shore of the solitary lodge. Not a whisper was heard as each Indian cautiously took his station and stood with bow or spear in the act to strike. One, the ‘Eagle of his tribe,’ advanced before the rest, and with light steps drew near a cavern in the rock, where placing his head to the ground, he listened anxiously for some moments, scarcely seeming to breath; then with a slight motion of his hand, he gave the welcome sign that the enemy was within.

“A shower of arrows was poured into the chasm; and the long shrill whoop that accompanied the volley had just died away in its caverns, when a heavy splash was heard which, for a time, suspended further operations. The attacking party gazed on one another in mute and vacant surprise for they had not suspected the subterranean passage, and felt that they were baffled. The chief, after creeping into the cavern to explore, directed them to embark and having formed a crescent with their canoes at intervals of a hundred yards from each other, they paddled towards the Rat’s Lodge under the idea that the enemy might have retreated thither. If not it was agreed, that the rat, though upon the whole comparatively harmless, should pay the penalty of his untoward alliance and suffer a vicarious punishment for the sins of his friend and the gratification of the disappointed pursuers. The rat, however, fortunately for himself, had that instinctive foresight of approaching ruin which proverbially belongs to his race; and however ready to assist his neighbour when matters went well with him and something was to be gained by the cooperation, he watched with a prudent jealousy the conduct and fortunes of one so obnoxious to hatred, and was ready, on the first appearance of danger, to stand aloof and disclaim him. Accordingly, when the beaver presented himself at the lodge of his friend, to crave a temporary asylum from his pursuers, the rat, with many protestations of esteem and regret, civilly declined to admit him, and recommended him to make the most of his time by swimming to some rocks the south where he would be safe from his enemies.

The beaver, though stunned for a time by this unexpected repulse, soon recovered his wonted spirit, and feeling his situation to be hopeless, threw himself on the rat and began a desperate struggle. How the contest might have ended it is difficult to conjecture; but the whoop of the Indians arrested the combatants, and darting a look of vengeance at the rat, the beaver plunged once more into the water. The chase was long and many were the hair-breadth escapes of the resolute beaver: but the ardour of the hunters was not to be quenched; and tracked to the end of the lake and thence down the cataracts and rapids which mar its course to the next, the exhausted animal yielded its life just as its feet touched the distant rocks of the Tal-thel-leh.

“But its spirit,” said Maufelly in a low and subdued tone, “still lingers about its old haunt, the waters of which obey its will; and ill fare the Indian who attempts to pass it in his canoe without muttering a prayer for safety: many have perished; some bold men have escaped; but none have been found so rash as to venture a second time within its power.”

James Anderson knew this story as he read it in Back’s Narrative. Anderson’s journal continues: “Saturday, 8th [September 1855]. Blew a N.W. gale last night with rain; the waves were beating so high against the shore that we made a portage to a small bay, and after shipping much water and working our crazy canoes much we succeeded in crossing to the Beaver Lodge. The wind increased with rain and snow, till at last we were compelled to encamp at 7 a.m. at a bay on the West shore, where we afterwards discovered Captain Back built his boats. We were detained here all day.” And so, it seems, the beaver still had the power to control the wind and the waves on Artillery Lake. Anderson’s journal continues:

Sunday 9th. The ground was white with snow this morning and still blowing a heavy N. Wester, with drizzling rain and snow. Took an early breakfast and left at 5 a.m. under double-reefed sails. Kept along the E. shore [of Artillery Lake] until we fell in with some Indian Lodges, and the rest of the day was spent in trying to find out their road to Fond du Lac des Esclaves [bottom of Great Slave Lake]. We made a move in the evening to the bottom of the deep narrow bay on the East shore where were 10 Indian canoes, several lodges or at least the poles of lodges and remains of deer. The Indians have left this about a fortnite since. We are not yet quite sure of our road. It is really too bad that Indians have not been sent to meet us. Numerous flocks of geese and wavies passing, 4 kinds of berries ripe. Larch found in this bay.

Monday 10th. Ground white with snow this morning. Many geese passing. Very early this morning Mustegan and J. Fidler went to find the straightest road to the height of land. Returned, and after breakfast (8 a.m.) we began the portages, and before night had passed 8 lakes and made 8 portages = 5 miles, all in a South West direction. The Lake we are on is rather larger and the rivers connecting the Lakes are more considerable–the last one was navigable. Men much fatigued.

In 1833, some members of Back’s party were Artillerymen. This is what George Back had to say of the naming of Artillery Lake. “We soon got to the southern extremity of the lake, which is about forty miles long and twelve broad at the widest part; and out of respect to the distinguished corps to which some of my crew belonged, and from a grateful remembrance of the deep interest manifested by its officers for the success of the expedition, and of their friendly courtesies to myself, I called it Artillery Lake.”

Back also wrote that “the eastern shore of Artillery Lake which we now followed, was less rocky than its opposite, being composed principally of smooth rounded hills covered with verdure and large stones, many of which were ranged on the summits, presenting a bold contrast to the yellow sky behind.” In 1834, Back descended what was known as the Ah-hel-dessy (now Lockhart River) that led from Artillery Lake to Great Slave Lake. On this river was a massive falls, called Parry Falls (now a hydro project, and so you know this is not a little falls!) It was this falls that Anderson and James Stewart were trying to find a route around.

Back wrote of descending the Ah-hel-dessy: “The descent of this small but abominable river was a succession of running rapids, making portages, and lowering down cascades; and much time was occupied in previous examination, without which precaution we dared not stir a yard; still the rapids increased in number and difficulty, until at last a deep and perpendicular fall, rushing between mountainous rocks into a vast chasm, stopped all further progress. The steersman, unwilling to be arrested even by such obstacles, went some distance farther, but soon returned with an account of more falls and cascades.” They secured their boat in the woods and carried their packs down the riverside to Great Slave Lake–a distance of more than seven miles through snow four inches deep, and carrying packs of 75 pounds each. At this point they came up to the massive falls that Back named “for our celebrated navigator, Sir Edward Parry, and called it Parry’s Falls.”

You can probably understand at this point why Anderson did not want to travel to Great Slave Lake by this river. So, they are still in Artillery Lake and looking for a passage over a height of land to a series of lakes and rivers that would take them to Great Slave Lake–they are in fact looking for the trail that the First Nations people would use to come down to Slave Lake and the posts thereon–a different route than Captain Back’s men used. His entry on Monday 10th, above, is the beginning of Anderson’s journey down a river to Great Slave Lake, by the First Nations route that avoided Parry Falls. Back’s journal would not help them here, because of course Back had taken the route that forced his men around Parry Falls. Anderson’s journal continues with his second day of crossing the portage to Great Slave Lake.

September 1855. From Artillery Lake to Slave Lake. Upwards [to the height of land between the two lakes]. Tuesday 11th. Left early. Fell on an Indian track. On entering the river made 2 portages equal to 1/2 mile and shortly after got sight of [Great] Slave Lake. The river was here larger but shallow and interrupted by several falls and cascades. The pieces were carried straight to the mouth of the river (5 miles) and the canoes were brought down (light) the river partly by water and several bad portages. They [the men] did not succeed in reaching the pieces. Mr. [James Green] Stewart and I crossed the river by wading at a rapid and found the Fort [Reliance]; it is built on the old site of Fort Reliance [built in 1833-34 by Back’s men], but on a much smaller scale. We slept here. Mr. [James] Lockhart left yesterday with the 2 boats. He is not far off, as there is a long portage to make, and I sent off immediately to tell him to return. A whiskey jack [grey jay] was seen where we breakfasted, the first for many weeks. Wood increased in size and quantity as we approached Slave Lake. Birch fit for axe handles to be found. Very few deer tracks.

Wednesday 12th. The canoes arrived [from the men’s campsite] at 10 a.m. After arranging matters I left at 2 p.m. with my canoe, Mr. Stewart remaining to meet Mr. Lockhart. Carried sail to the point, but afterwards had the wind strong ahead. Encamped late a little beyond Hoar Frost river. Aurora Borealis faint. 

Thursday 13th. Left early. Met an Indian about 7 a.m. who gave us some fat meat. We afterwards saw some women and children. Arrived at the Mountain Portage about 3 p.m., put ashore in a bay beyond it to await the arrival of the canoes from [Fort] Simpson which were seen under sail. Took one of these canoes and sent off the other with the 2 crews at 4 pm. to meet Messrs. Stewart and Lockhart. Gummed and arranged the canoe and proceeded about 6 miles beyond the Mountain Portage at a little river.

Anderson is still in McLeod Bay, at the far north-eastern end of Great Slave Lake. Great Slave Lake is massive, and as they haven’t even got out of McLeod Bay, at the lake’s north east end, they are going nowhere fast.

Wind strong ahead since mid-day and shipped much water — these 2 canoes are the proper length, but too narrow and low, the gunnels also are too weak by far.

In his Narrative, Back explains what the Mountain Portage is and describes the appearance of the remainder of McLeod Bay — you will perhaps remember that James Anderson and his party of explorers made their way to the headwater of the Great Fish River by what they called the Mountain Portage. Back said: ‘The altitude of the north shore of the lake [McLeod Bay] varies but little thence to the point called by the natives “the Mountain,”–so named however, not from any remarkable prominence, but to distinguish the spot where the natives leave their canoes when striking into the interior. From the “Mountain,” opposite peninsula of Gah-nooa-tchel-a (or Rabbit Point) [Kahochella Peninsula] has a bold and picturesque appearance, being more than 2000 feet high, almost perpendicular, and evidently a continuation of the (trap) formation of Peth-the-nu-eh, from which it is separated on the south and west by an opening leading to Christie’s Bay.” Christie’s Bay is the big bay of water on the south side of the Kahochalla Peninsula. So, McLeod Bay on the north side of the peninsula, and Christie’s Bay on the south side.

Anderson’s journey continues:

Friday 14th. Left early. Met some Indians going to [Fort] Resolution about 7 a.m. Encamped about sunset at the beginning of the Cut rocks leading to Pipe Stone Point (opposite the mouth of the large bay). Weather rather cloudy with some light showers; nearly dead calm and consequently a splendid day for paddling. A great many wavies [geese] passing tonight. Aurora Borealis superb in streamers and rays of all colours, very active about 11 p.m., rays apparently descended to within 100 feet of the water.

Saturday 15th. Left early. Wind rather strong ahead. Encamped at dusk among the Islands [Simpson Group of Islands, named for Governor Simpson, I presume] where we dined on the 27th June. Aurora Borealis very active, same as yesterday. Saw a few small poplars before encamping.

Sunday, 16th. Left at 2 2/3 a.m., nearly calm. Men paddled very hard; smoked once and arrived at the last Cariboo [Caribou] Island at 9 a.m. Wind a little strong ahead; took the Traverse straight to Stony Island, 3 3/4 hours. [Thomas] Mustegan never once missed his way through this labyrinth of Islands. Supped at 6, and arrived at [Fort] Resolution at 9 p.m. Men quite fresh.

On the 21st, Stewart and Lockhart arrived in a canoe. Anderson equipped the men who were returning to Red River, and he paid off the First Nations people who had been part of their expedition. On Friday September 28 he left Fort Resolution. “Boat very deep. Wind moderate till we come to the last Island to go to Isle aux Morts, where we were compelled to encamp. Drizzling rain.” It took Anderson and his men two days to make their way out of Great Slave Lake into the Mackenzie River, which would lead them north to Fort Simpson. On Thursday, October 3, James Anderson reached his home post of Fort Simpson, and rested. 

Governor George Simpson told Anderson that his expedition had “quite fulfilled all that was expected from it by reasonable people.” Even though Anderson had found no direct proof of the presence of Sir John Franklin’s men, what he did accomplish was considered a success. However, it was not a success from a personal point of view. The exposure caused Anderson permanent loss of voice, and later, his death from tuberculosis. 

This is the last post of this long series. If you want to return to the beginning of Anderson’s 1855 expedition down and up the Great Fish River, look here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/james-andersons-journey/ 

If you want to go to the beginning of Augustus Peers’s journey, go here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/augustus-peers-journal/ 

And if you want to go to the beginning of Robert Campbell’s story, go here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/london-ships/ 

And of course I am completely wrong in saying this thread is finished! I also have James Green Stewart’s journal to post, and it begins here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/james-green-stewart/ 

My book, Working Title: Three Journeys North to the Arctic Sea, will be published in January 2027. 

Copyright, Nancy Marguerite Anderson, 2026. All rights reserved.

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