 Great Slave Lake. None of them had
ever been to its mouth, but they had been told by Indians of a different
tribe who lived upon the banks of this river, that it emptied into the
sea at such an immense distance that one would have to journey for
several years to reach the salt water. Mackenzie knew that this could
not be true, but he made up his mind to explore this great river and
discover whether it flowed into the Arctic Sea or into the Pacific.

All preparations having been made, therefore, he and his plucky little
band of French-Canadian boatmen and Indian hunters got into their
canoes. Amid shouts of farewell from the fort, the paddles dipped
noiselessly into the water, and they were off on their long journey to
the mouth of the Mackenzie. A few days’ paddling brought them to Great
Slave Lake, which they had to cross very carefully in their frail
birch-bark canoes, as great masses of ice were still floating about in
spite of the warm June sun. Before the end of the month they had reached
the western end of the lake, and entered the Mackenzie River.

Day by day and week by week they paddled steadily onwards, the days
growing longer as they went farther north. It must have seemed strange
to rise, as they did, at two o’clock in the morning, and find the sun
already up before them. As they journeyed down the river they met many
new tribes of Indians, who had never before seen white men. Sometimes
the Indians would rush into the woods in terror; at other times they
would brandish their spears and clubs threateningly, until Mackenzie
made them understand by signs that the white men were friends, not
enemies. Then they would come near and examine with wonder his strange
clothes and weapons, and they were willing to offer him all that they
owned for a handful of bright- beads.

Early in July, Mackenzie reached a point where another river emptied
into the one he was exploring. The Indians told him that this river came
from a very great lake, which they called Bear Lake, some distance off
to the eastward. Two da