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A Short History of Moose Lake
by J. E. Dion
From time immemorial, the Natives depended on Moose Lake and the country around it for livelihood. The great Jumbo Whitefish always played an important part, so did the noble moose of the forests, the deer, caribou, elk and bear. We have word of mouth accounts of many happy days spent after the trappers had brought home successful catches of various kinds of marketable skins such as the fox which came in silver, black cross, and red, the otter, fisher, martin, mink and ermine, the wolf and coyote, beaver and muskrat pelts when fur was king.
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The Hudson Bay Company in as far back as we can delve had
a trading post at the south west end of the lake, not far
from where the Dory Creek runs in. The store and other buildings
were moved from there to the place where the trail from
Long Lake came in. This place was known much later as Branigan's
beach. The store's location was changed again to about a
mile south, from here they moved to the last post just south
and a bit west of the Lake of Two Island (Jessie Lake).
In all those years the Moose Lakers enjoyed a fair share
of prosperity. There were lean periods of course, but the
people never starved.
One of the blackest pages in the written history of the First Nations peoples and Metis of the West was the epidemic of Small Pox which swept the country in 1870 and wiped out whole families, many whole villages in its wake.
A well known old timer, Mr. Antoine Gibeault who died 9
years ago at Gurneyville used to tell of his own experience
on that fateful autumn of 1870. The Gibeault home was located
on the lake shore at the west end of what is known today
as Vezeau beach.
It seems that when the Small Pox struck the whole family
went quick, the father first, then a baby girl followed
by Mrs. Gibeault herself and last a young boy.
Antoine, 9 years of age, alone survived the terrible catastrophe.
He was found soon afterwards by an Aunt of his along the
main part of the lake far away from his home. The boy was
throwing stones on the ice. All that kept him from freezing
to death at night was his two dogs, a little old blanket
covered part of his naked body, a string or sakanapi was
tied around his waist and his moccasins were getting worn
out. A big snow storm came down immediately after the boy
was found. The dead body of his grandfather was later discovered
in a teepee along the creek just south of the present Vezeau
buildings.
An uncle, a Mr. Gadwa took young Gibeault to St. Albert
the following summer where the boy received an education.
He spoke both French and English.
The Great Famine of 1872 was not so keenly felt by the Moose
Lakers. They escaped also the punishment handed out to the
foolish instigators of the Frog Lake masacre of 1885.
During several years following this deplorable phase of
our history, the Indian agency at Onion Lake, under the
capable administration of Mr. G. G. Mann was succeeding
very well in creating a new outlook for the future of our
Natives. They began to raise cattle on a large scale. Two
ranches were started on the Kehewin reserve and one by the
Long swamp where eventually 200 head were kept by the First
Nations peoples. A large camp was maintained here, where
the Durlingville store was later built. A family of Laboucane's
kept a bunch of horses in this vicinity.
At that time and up to the turn of the century, a traveller
coming West along the trail that led from the Chipewyan
settlement known as the Cold Lake Indian reserve, could
have found, not merely wigwams and camp fires but some fairly
substantial log houses and comfortable shacks. William Okanes
or Bone who hailed from Elphinstone, Manitoba had a large
house on the lake shore immediately south of where the St.
Louis Hospital stands today. Johnny Gadwa lived here also.
Big Belly had his shack just about where the Ouimet home
is now. Across on the South west side of this lake of two
islands, was the Hudson Bay store with an Indian by the
name of Cheeman in charge. Here lived Naistus, the Pipe
brothers Michel and Alex, Joe Okanes, Simon Gadwa about
a mile west Chapo Jacknife Pierre Berland, still on further,
Corbett Piche, Michel Bearskin, Oldman Pipe, father in law
of Cheeman and his brother Wet Breast lived near the south
east end of Moose Lake. Pascal Berland and his large family
resided along the main body of the Lake further west, there
were the real Moose Lakers, other First Nations peoples
and Metis came and went, the country all around but
especially to the north of here was one vast hunting ground.
A rather regretable event from the Indian standpoint took
place here during this period. An official of the Department
of Indian Affairs had called a meeting in which he advised
the residents to avail themselves to a reservation of their
own. This was to have comprised an area the width of Moose
Lake north and south, on east to the far end of the Long
swamp. What a different layout this would have made in the
present geography of the Bonnyville district if those First
Nations peoples and Metis living here then had taken the
advice seriously. The Elders appointed to speak for the
meeting had scoffed at the idea of being tied down to a
cupful of their own land. They refused to heed the warning
that the Moose Lake district would soon be all filled with
Whites.
Old Pipe had stated that even if Wemistikoswok or Boat Builders
did come, they were his friends, he had never quarreled
with them, they would not take his home land away from him.
There was room galore for everybody, why the need of a reservation?
"Better by far for the Government to send whisky and
food to us for Kissing day, as Hudson Bay factors used to
do for their customers."
The majority of these old timers took refuge in the Kehewin
Indian reserve even before the arrival of the new settlers
in 1907. Some had succeeded in obtaining the Metis Scrip
which they squandered due to their ignorance of its worth.
Big Billy, who was wiser than most lived to be an old man.
He used to sometimes repeat the pitiful and amusing speech
made by Old Pipe which had decided the fate of the Moose
Lakers, "But who was I," he would say, "to
question the wisdom of my own father in law. We did not
get our whiskey and food for Xmas, neither did I sell town
lots in Bonnyville."
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The Indian Residential school at Onion Lake had been my
constant home for nine years when my dad decided to pull
stakes and head for Long Lake. To say that I was lonesome
at the new stange place would be putting it mildly. There
was absolutely no place to go, no neighbors whatever for
miles around, we did not even have a home. Our first winter
was spent in the deserted ranch buildings of the Onion Lake
Agency. The buildings were in good repair and we shared
them with two other families, who, thank goodness, had come
to join us in the new venture. Our cattle had ample room
in the large sheds.
For diversion I took to trapping and hunting. Rats were
plentiful that winter of 1903 and 04. Johnny Burwick came
on time and bought all the pelt we had paying us 8 cents
cash for rats. We kept on trading with the Hudson Bay Store
at Onion Lake, a distance of over 50 miles. The trips to
the old place were most welcome to me, but we only went
when we really had to. I have known what it is to go without
sugar for long periods.
The summer of 1904 found us on a new location not far from
the high hill known today as St. Joseph Mountain. It was
here, while we were putting up new buildings that the land
surveyors came. The Chief of the outfit was named Lestock
Reid and was an elderly man. He and my dad decided to change
the boundaries of the reserve from the previous size of
9 by 4 miles to 6 by 6 miles, thus taking in all the open
land between Muriel Lake and Long Lake. At this camp my
dad and I started the first sawmill on the reserve. Ours,
however, was not an engine driven circular saw but a long
blade with special handles at both ends and manned by elbow
grease. I will not elaborate on the structure nor how we
managed, suffice it to say that it was hard work with everything
good we made 40 to 45 12 ft. by 8 inch boards from previously
hewn logs per work day. As my dad had not yet decided where
to eventually hang his hat we had broken a few acres by
the Long Lake several miles away in the early spring and
seeded some oats. All the machinery we had was a plow and
three sections of drag harrows. Oxen were the handiest for
breaking land. We used a yoke and bows and a length of logging
chain for harness. We were lucky to obtain from the agency
at Saddle Lake a half dozen cradles with which we cut a
heavy crop of oats in the fall. After stacking the hand
bound sheaves we waited till the ground froze to start threshing.
This we did with a flail, with natures own wind for blower.
By the way, our field and the many big stacks of hay we
put up were all surrounded by good strong rail fences. Our
house logs, no matter how big, were always hewn down to
a thickness of six inches.
In the early fall of 1905, a trader who was passing by stopped
and camped at my home. The man filled me with a great story
of the beautiful layout he had at Beaver Crossing. He wound
up by offering me what he called a wonderful opportunity
if I would come and give him a hand in his large store.
He said that there was plenty of room for both me and my
saddle horse. I fell like a ton of bricks, and so it was
that I had my first taste of working with someone other
than my father. I brought a beautiful white saddle pony
with me and it was a comfort to know that I was not dependent
on anybody for transportation.
Besides my many and varied duties I had the looking after
of the old man's skinny team of horses. A trip to Edmonton
was in the offing and I fed them the best way I could on
what the boss allowed for that purpose. He borrowed my horse
quite often.
The nights were getting cold when we struck out for the
City about 200 miles by winding roads and trails. We did
not have much of a load to start out with and the team had
picked up some. I had the job of driving about 20 head of
cattle "Edmonton or bust".
Edmonton in that far away past, the autumn of 1905, had
just welcomed the arrival of the Canadian Northern Railway.
The place where I stayed was just north of the track and
quite close to the then brand new depot. There was quite
a lot of snow on the ground when we finally got back to
Beaver Crossing. I stayed with the old man for another three
weeks. He had payed me part of my wages when we stopped
at my home on the return trip. One night when the boss was
feeling good for a change he offered me a dandy blue suit
for $18.00. I took the clothes and asked him to give me
my time for I had taken on another job at the Hudson Bay
store across the Beaver River. Well, he did not get ugly,
for both my home and I had served him will and he realized
that I could have ridden away anytime I felt like it, and
that was not once during the three months I slaved for the
bad tempered Paleface.
My new employer, Mr. A.L.N. Martineau was the exact opposite
of to my former and first boss. Mr. Martineau was a young
and likeable man. He had been married but a few years to
Maggie Deleny and the two made a typical pair of faithful
servants of the Hudson Bay Company of the old school. They
were always ready to lend a helping hand wherever needed.
The majority of the First Nations peoples lived on credit
during slack times, but they never failed to pay up their
bills before the trapping season was over.
In those days some of the more prosperous trappers, instead
of taking their furs to a trading post preferred to sell
by auction since there were always a number of travelling
buyers and traders bargaining with one another for the catch.
These sales were silent and rather grim affairs, each buyer
after a thorough examination of the furs would submit his
offer on paper. That one and only bid was final.
It was during those years while I was working alternately
for my dad in the summer and the Hudson Bay Co. in the winter
that Bonnyville came into being. The following describes
a certain phase and how I came to know so intensely the
little settlement at its inception.
Smallpox had broken out in the Kehewin's reserve and among
the few First Nations peoples and Metis still living
around Moose Lake. Sergeant Hall, in charge of the R.C.M.P.
detachment at Onion Lake hired me to come and stay with
two young policemen: Constable E. Lee and Mr. Wolliker,
who were to be stationed in the Hudson Bay store building
which had recently been shut down and were now vacated.
We landed here shortly after New Years of 1908. Dr. Amos
of Lloydminster was with us together with his interpreter
William or Bill Vivier. We found however that the house
proper was already occupied by a Mr. Bibeau and his family
so we availed ourselves to the store room.
I do not have the name of the officer who swore me in when
I first joined and offered to take me to Battleford where
I could get a job as interpreter. I was game and Dad was
willing to let me go, but my mother, acting on the advice
of her half brother, Peter Thunder, refused to let me leave
the place of my birth, thus I had to part company from two
chums and real friends. I met Dr. Amos and Sergeant Hall
many times afterwards but I never again saw either Lee or
Walliker. These boys however have remained with me throughout
the many years since we parted, two outstanding characters,
true samples of the men who have made our police force great.
What might have been if an Indian mother had not said "No"?
Would the Redcoats have made a man out of me?
The Hudson Bay Co., having shut down the Moose Lake post,
and Mr. Garson, chief factor at headquarters in Onion Lake
reluctant to desert the growing population of the Kehewin
reserve, hired my dad to carry on the trade.
Every new settlement sooner or later decides to lay off
the hard work of the summer months for a day of play, hence
it was in the month of August the year of 1910 that Bonnyville
had its first picnic. This was held on the Belmore homestead.
I remember the event so well because everybody, excepting
possibly Mr. Joe Baril, had such a wonderful time; it was
just a great big family get together.
The horse races were run on a short straight course, north
and south, just west of the house. A nice brown horse owned
by Felix Ward and ridden by his young son, George won the
free for all. This race drew a lot of competitors and a
great deal of interest. Many old timers today who took part
in that day's celebration will remember our now deceased
Mr. Joe Mercier on his bay horse Jack, both man and horse
so very active then.
The next contact with Bonnyville was in the fall of 1910.
I had joined a party of land surveyors going out to work
north of Fox Lake and on East Primrose Lake. We camped at
Ouimet's, where we were well received. We spent the time
singing while some played cards until a late hour.
The party was composed in part of Chief Engineer, Mr. Montabeau;
Instrument Men, Lodas Joly and Mr. Stebbing; Mr. Joe Belzil,
Mr. Gagnon, Jerome Laboucane, Paul Dufresne, J.B. Mostus,
Mr. Bordeleau; the cook, Mr. Boleau; and his assistant,
Mr. Dupond. The freighters, Pierre Boudreau, Edward Delorme,
and George Laboucane, took a load out for the camp. After
reaching our goal, the party was divided into two crews.
As part of the work involved was to chop a road for 12 miles
straight North until we came to a base line, then work back
from the corner of a township, cutting a meridian line at
2 miles per day, the main camp stayed at our starting point
to sub divide and dig mounds.
One of the milestones of my life centres in the year of
1912, I was married in St. Albert, on May 7th of that year,
and so it was I who brought to my father's house an addition
to the family. Our new home remained a landmark on a rise
overlooking Long Lake, a place of rest for the weary. No
one was ever turned out.
In early October of 1912 my better half and I decided to
make a trip to Bonnyville with the object of going to church,
a privilege we both missed greatly. The weather turned bad
on the way and we landed at everybody's home, Jacknife's
deserted shack, late in the evening. We had plenty of feed
for both ourselves and our tired horses, but there was no
stove in the house and no fuel around, so we turned back
and called at what used to be the first store in the distict.
Here we found Mr. Theodore Fillion who readily agreed to
put us up for the night.
Next morning we prepared to go to that first little church
in Bonnyville. This log building stood close to the road
and not far south of where the Duclos Hospital is today.
At about 9 o'clock, the priest, accompanied by Mr. Bard
and Mr. Robitaille arrived on foot from Bonnyville proper.
The mass we attended in that poor log structure was the
very same as has always been enacted the world over. We
prayed here just as fervently while we listened to a one
man choir rendered by a Mr. Ostigni.
Bonnyville, prior to that January year of 1912 was in its
infancy as it was only five years since its birth in 1907.
After 1912 progress became more evident. Those first settlers
always looking ahead and determined to win, eventually saw
their fond hopes and dreams become a reality.
And now we have arrived at the first 50th milestone. 50
years in which Bonnyville has gained much to be thankful
for. Our pioneers can now relax and look back with satisfaction,
secure in the knowledge that they will be cared for, the
children and young people take every convenience they enjoy
for granted. Lest we forget where all good things come from,
let us, on August 4th and 5th the days set aside for our
anniversary celebration, begin to make a daily practice
to pause a while and think of Him who rules our destiny.
I have spoken.
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