My Memories 1

My name is John Nick Jeddore and I was born October 1, 1922, to Peter Francis Jeddore and Sarah Ann House. As I have already explained, things were a lot different in those times, there was only as I can recall 28 Families in all of conne and burnt woods, sort of a mixed breed, Indians and part Indians, three white families, John Howse [my grandfather] Nick Crant, and lone Vincent Hynes,He lived in a small house at partridge point where the boat launch is now,starting from east to west, Mickey John, Uncle Tom Mc'Donald, Uncle lawrence Jeddore, Peter Jeddore [our family] [my grandfather]John Howse, Uncle Joe Jeddore, Stephen Jeddore, Uncle John Denny Jeddore,Uncle paul Nicholas Jeddore,lived with Uncle J denny, Uncle John Benoit, Peter John, Abe Stride, Uncle Matt Jeddore,George Benoit, [down on the point] [young]Frank Benoit, Paul Benoit,Uncle Steve Joe Uncle Andrew Joe, Lived with oncle steve joe, Matty Burk, Joe Paul, Uncle Johnny Hinks, young George Benoit, Paul Benoit, Nick Crant[non indian] Vincent Hynes, [non indian also]Uncle Andrew Benoit, Fonce [Alphonsus] Collier,Frank Benoit, John Mc Donald, Frank McDonald. Life was very hard in these years no food hardly any clothing just a few Rags. We scrounged for something to eat every day it could be a Rabbit muskrat partridge duck trout salmon Eel an old hen or rooster there was a time when I ate old salt cow skin. If we got a bit of caribou it was a feast these were joyful times. This would be mostly in fall winter or spring seldom would we get caribou meat in summer. There were times when I got so hungry I would go around the garden with an Eel spear pole and knock down a bird pick it and have it for lunch, anything to cure the hunger pangs. We were all alike nobody had anything except Grandfather Howse I dont know why but he was always employed by The Kendalls at Morrisville. John Kendell said once that he only kept him on out of pity, whatever it was he ate better than any of us did. I remember once saying to mother why can't we have food like Grandfather, She answered he works all the time but your father is only in the country. She probably did not understand how hard it could be sometimes in the country but she was some happy when Dad brought out some Caribou meat. Around this time around 1928 I started my short school years 1929 I made my first confession then studied for my first holy communion. I had reached grade two or what everyone called second reader. After that my reasons for being in school seemed useless I was waiting to join my father Furring [ today referred to as trapping] which would be when I reached the mature age of Eight years old.
Unlike today in those times 98% of the Micmac people were deeply religious Had great respect for The Pope the Bishops and Priests,Not one of this 98% would miss mass whenever the Priest came over unless they were very sick snow rain nothing would keep them away from Mass, when the Priest did not come over you would see one after the other going to church to pray, old and young nobody forced them to go they understood their religion, we were not all saints but we did the best we were always aware that we were only in this world for a short time,
Just a few short years before my time, when no Priest came for a long time The Micmac People used to go all the way to St. Pierre for easter Duty, To Receive the Sacrements once a year was very important to our people, Aunt Mary [Louis] Jeddore used to tell us stories about how they used to haul Dories or small boats over the ice for miles just to go to St Pierre for mass,It would take a book to tell all the things the old people told us,As for marriage our people understood very well what the words meant, What God has joined together let no man put asunder, it was for better or worse, which was worse most of the time, Children had the security two parents all their lives and grew up happy,As I said we were not saints we did a lot of bad things but nobody willingly caused others to suffer,
Back to when I reached the age of eight, I was anxious to Join My Father on the country furring and Hunting which was our way of life,nobody could ever convince me that this way of life would ever change, with this in mind School was forgotten which I would forever regret later in my life.
My life before, I can vaguely remember from the age of three years old I could see My Grandfather Chief Noel Jeddore resting on a couch he had a pair of grey wollen socks on with red stripes around the top. That was shortly before he left for Nova Scotia. Next I remember Lake Brother's motor boat with Grandfather and part of his family on board going out through the gut as we called it to contact with the costal Boat that was the last I ever saw of him. He died while I was overseas during W.W.2. For the next five years it was surviving, in those times the school for those who wanted to go or was encouraged to go, the season was from may to october,Our school supplies was Slate and slate pencil as first the slate was made of pure slate rock easy to break the children broke so many they came up with a new invention, a flat piece of tin covered with slate like enamel no way breaking them but they were awful hard to write on the slate pencil would slip over them they had to be perfectly clean before you could write on them,imagen what most was like when we used to spit on them and dry them off with our sleeve, We used to long for a real slate as last the Girls came up with the idea of carring a small bottle of soapy water, if you had soap, to school and a piece old rag, though not many could afford cloth, Some people might say this is bull but unless one lived in those one could never imagen what it was like,
I will now list the micmac people's hunting and furring [trapping] ground, Many years befor my time,
Frank Joe hunts burgeo country and western Maelpeg,
Little Frank Benoit.Spruce Pond N.W.OF Maelpeg
Pual Benoit [Aunt Millie Joes Father] his brother,
Frank Benoit,Hunts Crooked Lake
Ned Pullet, Hunts Long Pond between two W.Maelpeg,
Noel Louis, hunts Western Maelpeg,
John Benoit Hunts Nimooch-wee-godie
Frank Mc'Donald hunte, Godoliek[W.of Conn]
Ben Benoit Frank [Burnt Woods Benoit's forefathers]hunt,
Island Pond,NW.of W.Maelpeg,
Noel Mathews]
Martin and Michael hunts Crooked Lake,
Noel Jeddore,
John Denny Jeddore hunts, Sandy Pond,
Stephen Joe[ stepbrother of Joe]Hunts Burnt Hill and Podopekgutch,
Joe Jeddore
Nicholas Jeddore Hunts Burnt Hill and upper Ganger,
John Stride, [ Strides Related] hunts Northern side of Joe Sylvester,
Reuben Lewis hunts Kagudeck,
Stephen Bernard, Hunts Sandy pond and Shoe hill Ridge,
Mickey John
Peter John Hunts St,John's Pond,
John Hink's [Father]
[Sons Johnny and Paddy] hunts Wiskomonagodie,Eastern Partridge berry Hill S.of Maelpeg
Matty Burke, Johnny Benoit, Hunst Tolt and Piper's hill Brook,
Lrewis John Hunts Eastern side of Tolt,
This was many years before I was born, In my Furring years this was all changed as our culture and traditions began to breakup, By then the non Indian who had no respect for Indians, started to encroch on Indian Traditional hunting and furring grounds,
In 0ur family there were 8 of us my Father Mother Oldest Brother Gilbert, then it was me John Nick, Then Alice our sister, Then Brother Edwin,Noel 8 years younger than me, Priscella was born 18 years later, The same year I left to go overseas, My Uncle Charley he lived with us because his father was too damn contrary to live with, Around the year of 1932 Father decided to go to a winter house, as we were about to leave for the winter house Uncle Charley was also going with us but decided to move back with his father and mnother, because she was lamenting for him to come back with them,This was a year after my first trip furring,

Nov 4/2006

I will now begin my memoirs:
It was the year of 1931, that summer father told me when fall came I would be going with him hunting and furring [Trapping] I could hardly wait for fall to come,
So about the 5th of sept we got ready to go in long pond to repair our canoe which we did every year, My older Brother Gilbert would be going with father and me, we packed what little food we had two wooden gunwales for the canoe some cotten duck and Pich, we left early in the morning because there was a long rowe ahead for us in the dorey all the way to st Veronicas it was around Eleven o'clock in the day when we got there we hauled our dorey up and left on foot it took us about three hours to reach long pond, We put up camp not making any rush because the days were long a lot of evening left, Father started to work on the canoe Gilbert and me passed the time wandering around the shoreline, in these days before everything was flooded there was long sandy beaches all around long pond the sand was so fine one had a hard job to walk on it seem like your foot would turn over every step you took, It was warm everything was dry so we could only build a small fire just enough to boil the kettle no worrys though our blanket would keep us warm through the night, We had a good night lying on clean fir boughs The next morning pop got up real early as he did all his life, We youngsters slept in a little longer but not late, The usual routine slight breakfast tea and a piece of bread we passed the time as usual, In the afternoon Jack Benoit [wish's] father his brother uncle stan and Mick Joe came out on the beach and headed over to where we had our camp they also came in to repair Uncle Andrew Joe's canoe They put up their camp by ours we had good company for the next couple days That evening I set out a rabbit snare the next morning I had a rabbit we knew then there would be a feast pop started to skin the rabbit and prepared to cook our breakfast, then Uncle Jack pulled a piece of caribou meat out of his pack some one must have hunting before he came in this topped it off,
Later in the day We all left to come home having repaired our Canoe's there was nothing left to stay in for, This was not my first time sleeping in a canvas tent I believe I started when I was about three years old. This was our way of life Father was usually gone but our Uncle Lawrence and his two sons Johnny and Larry who lived a nomadic life was always on the move when we were not in school Gilbert and I used to folllow them around up south Brook catching Salmon or catching a few rabbits if we had no camp we would have something to get under.

I have to write a chapter on the life of Larry Jeddore because a niece of his have a great desire and longing to know something about him, Larry was the son of Uncle Lawrence Jeddore Grandson of Chief Noel Jeddore, A first cousin of mine our fathers were brothers who Married sisters,Uncle Lawrence married Mary Jane House around the year of 1017 they had four children Veronica, who died when she was a year or two old, Johnny the first boy came after, he died sometime in the late 1940's, then Larry was born just a month before him I was born, the last was sister Mary Mercedes, Life was not easy for this family, Tragically their mother died when Mary was an infant baby. What is more tragic uncle Lawrence was burdened with a serious neroulogical problem,there was nothing but suffering for them cold and hunger no clotrhes no nothing Johnny and larry had to beg to keep alive besides the terrible beatings inflicted on them by their father for what it seemed no reason, every night we who lived close by would hear their screams though most times Uncle Lawrence was a kind and loving father, but never had a thing to offer his children, Pop was gone most of the time so Gilbert my brother and I used to spend most of our time at their house which was in an awful state we witnessed many of those beatings and wondered why because our father uncle Lawrences Brother never laid a hand on any of us,But Uncle Lawrence never did beat Mary Poor little Girl she used to sit on the cold floor day after day cold and hungry with nothing but a dirty top on, Such was the case one day when dear old Aunt Mary Louis Jeddore came in, with tears flowing down her face she clasped mary to her heart, Shortly after Aunt Mary left with mary wrapped in her apron holding her tight to her heart where little mary remained till she grew up and left conne never to return,Life continued on with Uncle Lawrence johnny and larry the beatings continued the hunger and cold continued the begging continued in these times we were all beggers only they were less fortunate they used to come to us for food but very seldom would we have anything to give them, Pop used to wonder why uncle lawrence used to beat the boys so much this went on till they were big boys, around 1926 somehow uncle lawrence was alloted ten dollars quarterly every three month this welfare cheque would come in the mail us boys were guaranteed a bottle of pop how good this tasted we would get some chewing tobacco also, In about five days the money would be all gone then the scrounging again Eel salmon trout rabbits twillicks ducks gardin birds whatever most times there was no ammunition uncle Lawrence would use poles or rocks but he survived, when Larry reached the age of about eleven years old Uncle Noel Louis took him furring [trapping] with him Uncle Noel was grouich most times life in the beautiful country was still tough for poor Larry Uncle Noel used to leave larry back in the wigwam alone all day, one day larry was so lonely that evening when he saw Uncle Noel coming off in the distance he was so glad he ran out to meet him, Uncle Noel never even spoke but that night while drinking a cup of tea he spoke to larry something Larry would remember the rest of his life, Larry,Uncle Noel said There was a man and his son furring one fall the man left his son back in the wigwam all day in the evening when the man returned his son ran out to meet him like you did today, Uncle Noel paused then uttered the chilling words, He buried his son that night, Larry said Never again did I move out of the wigwam till Uncle Noel was back in, couple years after that Pop took Larry with us, That was the best part of our life because larry and I were buddys ever since we could walk, wE loved the wild country we Loved to hunt together we wouild go miles and miles just enjoying life not a worry in the world we shoot a caribou and roast some meat eat to our hearts content, we Johnny never did like the country poor old Uncle lawrence could not go in the contry his disease had advanced almost beyond control,but larry used to help with wild food which was all most of us lived on then. This went on till 1941 I came out of the country I was Furring [trapping] with Nickley that spring I came out intending to go right back in but signed and went overseas Larry my buddy asked his father could he go with me Uncle Lawtence refused saying he would be gone too long. Larry said o.k then I will go to Glenwoods Uncle Lawrence said o.k Larry left,Uncle Lawrence spent the rest of his life in a shack by the side of south east brook, as people passed in and out the country there was always this lonesome figure leaning on a log gazing out over the water from dawn to dusk, but it was always a welcome sight for me and many others, some of the kinder hunters would give him a piece of moose or caribou he would be ever so appreciative, I came back in four years had many wonderful years enjoying Uncle Lawrence's company,I remember the second day I got back home Joe Hinks came down and said let's go see Uncle Lawrence we walked down south east a little over a mile, when we got to his shack he was gone but the stove was still warm I said he's up the brook I bet, we walked up through the brook soon we spotted him at the fall's, He had this long pole with a hook at the end as we were walking up we saw hin hook a salmon when we got there he had two he passed the pole to joe said get couple for yourself in a short while joe had two also, Now he said your turn I soon got two enough he said took his hook untied it from the pole, we left for his shack where we enjoyed a cup of tea with him, He had this small bake pot I remembering him having it for years as I was eying it he said there is a little bit of rabbit stew left over from last evening you could share it if you want we did our first taste for four years it was delicious,the stories I could tell like this the computer would burst the computer,Larry married a Girl in Glenwood had a large loving family,Uncle Lawrence died without ever seeing Larry again.

In spite of my mother being non Indian I am Indian I was born into a culture that was prevelant at the time, there are very few of us left in conne that are a direct link to the traditional Micmac way of life. From early in life you could see me deep in the heart of the wilderness gliding over some lake in a Canoe. Shooting down the wild rapids. Or drifting along on a raft on some beautiful steady where the Beaver, Muskrat and Otter are my close friends. As our people all did. Some nights you will find me lying under the stars by a fire content in life watching the flankers [sparkles]as they shoot skywards like fine strands of wire. I recall one night Nickley myself and Ruben stride were lying in a makeshift shelter as we watched the flankers shooting up into the night sky Nickley was describing them like strands of brass wire he said when suddenly a gust of wind blew them into a bunch of trees nickley burst into a big laugh and said there all hands jumped into the woods we all laughed because it was funny.
As I listen to the rhythm of the wood as the fire burns it, As the fire dies down I cast my thoughts heavenwards giving thanks to my creator for the freedom I have. Drifting off into silent slumber ever alert to the sounds of the night whether it be knocking of hoofs on the hard ground or the silent padding of hairy paws the light breeze in the tree tops at the shifting of the light breeze I hear the rippling waters in the night air. I hear the familiar sound of the river rapids far up the lake, it gives me a chill because at this young age I have a terrible fear of the wild rapids but knew I had to face it come morning. With these sounds of the night Instinctively we can almost tell for certain what the weather will be like the next day. As I fall deeper into slumber my last conscious act is to pull the thin worn blanket over me with a final whiff 0f smoke from the now dying fire I fall into deep sleep and cross over to the mysterious land of dreams. Here I lie while the spirits keep a silent vigil over my still form. With sleep through the long night I will revitalize my body in preparation for the many miles of walking the next day.
Early next morning before dawn I awaken to the hooting sound of the night Owl. As I tear up the birch rind [bark] and strike a match to it the wonderful smell of birch rind smoke fill my nostrils a sensation that will remain with me forever. As I gather the dry splits and place them on the fire the flankers [sparks] ascend up through the smoke hole in the wigwam the night Owl go crazy making every kind of sound like terrified rabbits screaming sometimes like humans mumbling, I lie back and enjoy the warmth of the fire for a few minutes before I get up to boil tea then with a piece of venison a little piece of bear fat I have my morning meal. Next I'm gliding silenty over the marsh in moccisianed feet like a ghost in the pre-dawn hours of of the morning. As the sun rises higher in the sky the only other sign will will be blue smoke rising from some valley or gorge as I stop to prepare my midday meal, which will be the same unsweetened tea cold biiled beaver goose or some other wild meat very seldom a piece of pancake which would be a luxury. Next I am high atop some mountain viewing God's creation, Refreshing my whole body with the fresh mountain breeze and the beauty of my surroundings. As night approaches I will be entering into some thick forest. again to rest and refresh my body all over again and so the cycle continues, while my kinfolk the animals go on the prowl to continue their way of life, ans so it was in the year of 1930.
Reflections on a vanishing race
-------------------------------
As the evening of life come upon me
My mind wanders back in time,
Sadness decends upon me
when I realize the awful change
that has overtaken the Micmac people
of Conne River,
Including some of us elders,
I recall the time when everyone was
happy just to be alive, Free to roam
whether it be down along the shore line,
over the barren ground, In the country.
up south east brook, there was always
fresh moccisian tracks, follow these
moccisian tracks and-

I started my nomad way of life that continued in an unbroken chain on down from my Indian ancesters had lived for thouands of years,
Before I continue with my first furring venture, I have to relate another fact. My father took with him as furring partner My Uncle charley house because he was my mother's brother he thought he was responsible for his well being also, Father was like that. kind and gentle. When father married mother and brought her to Conne, her father and mother and brother came also. It was the arrival of these and other europeans that dealt the final blow to the Micmac language in Conne River,
Life was hard in those times, many mornings we would get out of our cold bed with nothing for breakfast. If we had a piece of caribou meat a rabbit or an eel trout or any wild food we would count ourselves lucky to have this,
Just down below us lived Uncle Lawrence, my fathers brother, with him lived his two sone Johnny and Larry, they were destitute more so than us, as I have stated before in my writings, My older Brother Gilbert and our cousin Johnny were about the same age, Larry and myself the same with me a month or so older than Larry, we were inseparable, we were always together Rabbit snaring if we had a bit of wire, in winter Eel spearing through the ice, trouting over the River, always scrounging to survive, Other times we would follow Uncle Lawrence around, like our ancesters he was a nomad sort of person,
Uncle Lawrence's furring life came to an end in the late ninteen twenties, several incidents was the cause. It was believed the first he was on a bear hunting trip with Steve pullet, steve was just a boy, Uncle Lawrence fired at a bear and shot the cub, the mother bear came at him having a muzzle loader he had no time to reload, the only choice he had was to defend himself with the gun stalk, He said when he came to his sences he was standing over a large dead bear, with just the gun stalk in his hand, he had beaten it all up on the bear, he looked around for young steve to see if he was alright, steve was nowhere near, as he looked around he saw steve floating around in their canoe off in the middle of the lake, He said jokingly to steve you're a damn poor one to depend on,
The next incident another time, they were in the country which was his last,he was with Chief Noel his father, and brothers, Peter, Joe, and Victor, one day on the move uncle lawrence wandered too far off, it was real foggy, probably with the effect of his ordeal with the bear, he got lost, it was coming on night, everyone thought he was alright, he wasn't. He fired couple shots hoping he would get an answering shot, but not so, he fired again, having a muzzle loader he saw his wad burning on the ground realizing he had no matches he hurriedly started a fire from the burning wad, he stayed through the night, Father said the next morning they came upon him he was like someone in a trance, he used to hold his eys shut and wrinkle his forehead, Pop said as they started out he got left behind, soon they noticed he used to take four or five steps ahead then a couple steps back. He was like this for the rest of his life,
-Pretty soon you would come across
a sort of traditional gathering,
one person would stop on the green
lawn or down on the point along the
shore line or on the church bridge
wether it be sunday mass or a visit
to the church on some holiday,
by and by there would be a crowd
all enjoying each others company,-
Larry's boys often told me their Father never would talk about his past life, Fergus told me I wonder why? God I thought to mysely what could the poor fellow tell with the terrible life he lived in his young days,Uncle Lawrence Lived in Grandfather Chief Noel's house, left vacent when he moved to Eskasoni Cape Breton,Uncle Lawrence had a house his own, He sold it or gave it to Sylvester Jeddore, I remember somewhere in my fadeing memory Gilbert and myself was talking to Sylvester he told us,I'm going to knock down that house tomarrow Pointing to Uncle Lawrences house. He did and built a house for himself out of it. Around this same time before he tore down Uncle Steve Jeddores house, John Joe Benoit his wife Mary Jane their two children Cas and Vida,[Vida now Married to Paul stride] When Nickley was not in the country he lived there also because Nickley and Mary Jane was the Children of Uncle Steve Jeddore,Uncle Steve Jeddore died sometime around the time John Joe Married his daughter, Mary Jane died also when Cas and Vida was small children Uncle John Benoit Cas and Vida's Grandfather took them in, him and his wife Aunt Soulian Louis reared them up. Shortly after Sylvester tore their house down.
Getting back to around 1928,we just had fall of snow. Pop was cutting logs down south east.He was using a horse to haul the logs,Nickley came out of the copuntry. He was hauling a slide [sled] he had a full size caribou on it, he had dragged this all the from scobokengeeg, [Little lookout] The caribou was not yet skinned.he had no dag so it was tough going, Pop offered to Haul his slide out to conne for him he gladly accepted,Nickley used to live in a shack up half ways, We used to call it Nickleys shack when they reached the shack Nickley skinned off a gorequarter of the caribou this with the head he gave pop,I remember pop coming in the house with his pack, God was he ever proud at the time we had hardly anything to eat,he walked right to mother and said, what do you think of my load darling? she was real happy, us children started to sniff aropund like little puppies, Mom got out the frying pan soon there was meat sizzling on the stove I can still savour wonderful smell coming from the meat, for couple days we lived like royalty,Indian Royalty's, The first time Gilbert and I found Nickleys shack, We were setting rabbit snares and came upon it by chance, he got mad enough to kill us, He chased us like a raging bull, We did'nt knowe what had happened to him him, he was shouting if sarah ann comes up here[our mother]she will never know what hit her,Some time later he was at our house mom asked him about it, he said Johnny and Larry told him we were going to chop down his shack, They told me lies he said,
Copying things I wrote some years ago I could be rambling at times or repeat mysely, So much for the lack of education,
In my time what is now pre-school days, We were never encouraged to go to school,so we had a lot of time to waste. Not that there was much school of any kind.It was our belief then if we had a dozen degrees it would be no good to us.Since we learned how to set fox and rabbit snares.catch trout spear Eels shoot animals just after we started to walk.This was all the education we needed the way we lived then.Our upbringing was much more positive then a lot of the young generations of today. There was a lot of respect in those times perhaps because there was so few people respect was very ovious.as a matter of fact respect was a way of life for my Fathers generation.one only had to follow the example and lifestyle of those people. They had most of them had great respect for death a prefound belief in almighty Godand life after death,but I have to say the Halo did not fit everyone,
At a young age and my Indian way of life I could spot the non Indian by their life style
Nobody was rich. there were
Good times and bad times.more
of the latter. the bad times we
put up with without complaining.
The good times we enjoyed fully.
If someone came into a little
good fortune. every one was happy
for for them. Nobody was jelous.
I remember when Mattie Benoit
was awarded his war casulty pay.
which after many years had
acumulated to.$
For example Indian people never bothered with shell and cockle birds out ay salt water.Theirs was black duck geese which came with tradetion. We would never hoard them. only take what we need at special times. we had no dogs or decoys just took our chances with our hunting skills,Unlike the non Indian who took more then was needed at times to hoard.
This I noticed with people like uncle Frank McDonald these people puzzles me they were supposed to come directly from England yet were classed as Indians, Uncle Frank and my Uncle Charley non indian used to make a trip in the fall especially to hoard partridge. they would bring home a load much the same as the non indian of today who go in with dogs and ravage the country kill every bird leave nothing,
Uncle frank had odd ways. Himself and the family would set fields of potatoes. In the fall would dig them up pick out all the large ones to put away in the cellar for the winter. the small ones if he could'nt sell them before he'd give them away he would dump them over the wharf,I suppose it's only right because if anyone did'nt work at setting any let them do without, But there were sick people who could not set any,He did'nt fully understand the Indian waysIn the early part of my life when I reached the age of reason I gradually learned all the tradetional superstitions of my micmac ancesters, Such as not to point ones when you need oneand see it,a strong habit of a person when he see ot first and point it out to the other fellow,They used to say you will never get that bear, strange as it may seem it always happens the bear gets away,It could be possible that the one who is going to shoot the bear gets so mad at the one who pointed his finger he get careless frightens the bear away or misses thereby convincing himself all the more that it is a fact,Another one is when picking fir boughs to spread in the camp to sleep on make sure to pick off all the red dry tips or if not you would cut yoursel befroe the fall is over, this happened to Uncle Victor Jeddore once he cut his foot and the only thing the the elders copuld pin it on was the red boughs he slept on,to my knowledge this was the only time it happened,Other taboos never eat the small bone in a beavers foot or you will get crippled,another when cleaning the entrals of a caribou and boiling it which to me is a delicey? be sure to snip off the very tip of the appendix before you eat it, If you eat it the next caribou will see you first whistle at you and get away without you seeing it, Uncle Steve Joe ate this once this happened to him. Nobody ate this anymore including myself even to this day,Another one when you cook na partridge after all the meat is off the breast bone hold it to the light if theres red dots all over it there are plents animals on your country if it's clean white no animals on your country this they call animal tracks, another when skinning an otter as you pull the tail outif theres some fur left on the bone tip theres more otters left on your land if it comes off clean you've got the last otter on your land,
$ 2.260.00 Everyone thought he
he was rich. the fact is in
those days he was.Yet through his
generosity on ignorance in two years
he was flat broke,
Yet he still went hunting with the
rest of us. any other kind of life
would be usless to him, He may have
a lassie [molasses] bottle and
some butter. while we had none but
nobody eveied him,
Sunday was the Lords day everyone
All these and other signs are entrenched deeply into my system. even to this day when the occasion arises those thoughts will instinctively rise inside me, If I am bear hunting with some one he happen to point his finger at the bear when we see one I alomst say damn we are going to loose that bear, if the bear do get away through some careless act on our part I well not fail to point it to him that perhaps it was his fault the bear got away,
Theres one that stands out in my mind.I wish I had paid more attention to . Whenever Pop shot a beaver he would always spend a few minutes examining the entrails then he would say how many beaver was in the house[lodge] he seemed to be always right,one thing I did find out by accident was when we got a beaver I noticed it had no whiskers I mentioned it to pop he told me the other beaver living with him had bitten it all off,
I have no formal educationmy senses was all the education I neededin my way of life.From early childhood my father was my teacher. He taught me everything I needed to know to survive Pop was a great hunter very strong and knowledgeable in out customs and tradetion. it was in his blood as to the lifestyle of our kin the Anamils,as were all the Micmac people of the time, The Micmac people were great story tellers I could lie in the bunk [place to sleep] for hours listening and enjoying Uncle John Benoit telling stories,
In my times the only thing that mattered was survival.as I said my father taught my how to survive in the most severe condetions.In our travels he told me many stories . From his fathers times his grandfathers times and so on. The feats of human endurance that the Micmac people. If accomplished by of the non indian of today would reviberate around the world many times,
Atrue story was told to me by Sylvester Jeddore in one of his many excursions in mid winter.as was usual for the indian all through life,On this particular day he was on his way from Gull Pond or therabouts whic was Jeddores country.As he came down to conne steady as the general route. while crossing the steady he fell broke through the ice. no big deal because he knew the steady well and knew the water was only couple feet deep.but has it happened he got wet to the waist. God he said it was cold.but that did not matter because he knew Uncle Dennys [John dennys] Wigwam was close by.He headed for it but to his surprise and great disappointment there was no wigwam where it was supposed to be.He must have missed it he thaught.but no his instincts told him it should be right where he was standing. Getting uneasy now and with a terrible fear of freezing to death. bby now his clothes were frozen almost too solid to walk. and by all indications a blizzard was coming on.He walkid around in a circle looking for some indication of how he could have missed the wigwam. but knowing in his heart he did not miss the location.As he was walking around where the wigwam should be his foot scraped on a small bump in the snow. as it did some snow fell in leaving a smarr dark hole. as he brushed away more snow and peared down Dear God the light fell on some cloved splits. Right away he relized this was the wigwam under some twelve of snow. He made the hole bigger and dropped down through the raftersto the ground below. There in the stillness he gave thanks to his maker while outside the storm raged,There was plenty of firewood he did not have to get out.For tea he filled his kettle with snow and melted it. now he could weather out the storm in comfort,
I remember a fictional story that was told to us by Uncle John Benoit,About an old man who went beaver hunting,He took with him young boy. They travelled in the wilderness for four days.Without any sign of beaver.The young bay was very dishearted. On the third day well into the eveninmg thay saw a beaver. the young boy was overjoyed. but the old mank kept going on.On the fourth day late in the afternoon they saw more beaver.The boy was very hungry he was hoping the old man would take a beaver. but not so . the old man kept going further in.On the fifth day earlier in the afternoon they saw more beaver many more.to his joy the old man said we camp here. tha boy had not eaten for many days was very hungrey.when they had the shelter made. the old man killed a beaver. but acted very strange. he went some distance from the shelter roasted the beaver sat down and ate all by himself not even offering the boy a mouthfull.when he dad enough the old man put the remainder in his pack lay down in the shelter and went to sleep,The young boy suffered through the night could hardley get to sleep for the hunger pains was awfull,Early the next morning the arose and travelled on inward, this time just afternoon they saw plenty beaver. but the old man did'nt seem to notice. the boy being indian brought up as indian. asked no questions but suffered in silence,All that day the travelled passing beaver houses[lodges] along the way
That evening they built their shelter earlier in the eveningbefore the beaver got out to feed,[beaver stays in the house all day long only comes out in the evening stays out all night to feed and work]The old man then went and cut a small birct tree cot opff a length about four feet long called the boy with him then found a narrow channel in the brook told the boy to stand there and kill every beaver that attempted to pass through there,But dont stop for anything until you have killed enough for our trip,The boy did likewise as the beavers swam through he lifted his stick and killed one.the beaver floated doun stream rested by the shoreline, the boy kept this up till he could no longer lift the stickwith the last final effort he lifted the stick and killed a beaver and fell exhausted by the brook. there he lay for hours when he got up late in the evening. The old man had a beaver roasted he called the boy and told him to eat all he needed. That night after they had all the beaver cleaned, the boy ventured to ask a question that was knawing at his system eversince the old man ate the beaver and not giving him any.Grandfather the boy asked why did you not take a beaver for me too when you ate one you must have known I too was very hungrey and needed food? the old man looked at the boy with love in his eyes and answered, Son.had I taked another beaver fou you. That would be the only two beavers we would ever see for the rest of our live's,But as it was all the beaver we passed on our way in came for you to take while you had the strength so now we have all we need. I dont think I want to go hunting with that old man,
A true story told to me by my father.on one of our many nights lieing in a wigwam.At one time uncle John Denny needed some meat. As he came over a ridge a nice doe was standing on the barren ground.On the other side of the deer was a pond a couple hundredyards wide,Uncle Denny [as we called him]as always was carring a 30-30 rifle, No problem he fired at the deer it ran a few yards and fell down,As he was wakling to the deer he glanced toward to pond.some thing was splashing around on the other side of the pond, He paunched the deer took what meat he could carry comfortable. when he was leaving he thought he might as well check out what did the splashing in the water since it was right in the way he was headed,when he got to where he saw the splashing there was two black ducks with their heads shot off. they were right in the line of fire when he shot the deer,the bullet had passed right through the deer hitting the two ducks, one million in a million million chances and will most certainly will never happen again,Most people will say this is crap, but knowing the Micmac people as I do I know it to be true,will the next yarn has something to do with crap,On this occasionUncle denny said he went and had a crap beside a big rock. As he finished wiping with boughs. His Brother Chief Noel came over the barren ground.He said th himself I play a joke on. He poked his bare butt out from behind the rock and started to jump up and down, Noel he said froze in his trackslooked for a second and without delay levered a bullet into the barrel of his 30-30 rifle, Uncle Denny said I made a big holler and jumped out waving my arms.I did'nt have time to haul up my pants, That night he said I asked Noel whet he thaught it was by the rock.Noel said I did'nt know what the hell it was so scrubby and ugley,but he said by God I'll find out. Thats when he levered the bullet in the barrel.Uncle denny said I knew I did not have much time when I heared him lever the bullet in his gun.so I had to act fast to make myself known,
This next story is more about hunger. perhaps not to interesting but I write it anyway,On this occasion Chief Noel and his boys were in the country.deer was very scarce they had not eaten for couple days.on this day they all went out hunting.Uncle Victor the youngest stayed behind in the wigwam,He was very hungry. and he knew everyong else would be it they found no deer.Afternoon he noticed a beaver skin hung over the scaffoldthe had shot a beaver couple days before.A thaught came to him .Why not shave the beaver skin and cook it for supper? No sooner said than done. He was right everyone returned with no meat,He had a boiler on cooking something. They all wondered what he was cooking.as he took the boiler off the. he said to them.no sense going hungry with food lieing around, He began fishing strips of beaver skin out of the boiler. telling every one to help themselves, They did and being so hungrey they thaught it was good,
Another case of survival.My uncle Joe Pops younger brother cut his foot with an axe,It was quite a big cuthe was alone at the time woild be for a few days,he was very young at the time. Pop said he may have become frightened, but as it happened he did the right thing,He rolled his foot up in a deer skin fur to the cut. tied it with a string and lay in the bunk.There he remained for three long days.but the fur clotted the blood.thats where they found him, e=very weak but still alive. they cleaned up his wound dressed it fed him and nursed him back to health,
In 1932 in the early part of august,as a young boy going on nine years ao age.[was]walking along the shoreline in my bare feet,as all young boys my age and younger did at the time,The warm sand felt good on the soles of my feet, which was hardened by nearly four months of steady pounding on the hard earth surface,the frost bites I had suffered through the previous winter had all gone,I had just weathered another long cold winter with barely enough food to survive. and not enough clothes to keep my young body warm.Last winter was the first winter I had to help get some food to eat.Setting a few rabbit snares when ever I could scrounge a bit of wire,but only now and again would I catch a rabbit, Every morning faithfully like clockwork I would go check my snares.If I did catch a rabbit it was taken home right away and mother would cook it for breakfast,we would be good for it all day after that,But one thing about the bringing up of this young boy.He [me]no matter how hungrey never stole a rabbit from someone elses snare,
Other times you would see us creeping over thin ice trying. Tryong to get to our Eeling ground. my brother Gilbert and I when pop was not home would be the first ones to try the ice.new ice was always dangerous but we were taught by masters of caution, because our very survival depended on our wits,once we get there probabely Uncle steve joe or Uncle Denny would come off and join us. two or three Eels would be our next meal, Other time you would see us trudging over the hills in our small moccissianed feet. or crossing big pond. on our way down to the river. as it is called even to this day.this time to try to catch some sea trout. if the tide was right we would eat supper if not we wouild go hungery a little longer,But in the back of my mind was the thaught that this would be the first fall I would be going on the trap line [ furring] with my father.My heritage was the anamils I had to gnaw on dry caribou meat almost as soon as I was taken from mothers breast,[ some people may not believe this bot the next milk I drank after my mothers milk was caribou milk]But right now I was anticipating the good fresh fat caribou as was the custom of our ancesters the Micmac people,this time of the year and to dry some for the long lean hungery months ahead,
As I walked along the shoreline this august day the year was 1931.I was very hungery not having had any breakfast, I was looking off across tge gut to the shallows [Eeling ground]there was a sort of grease or oil slick on the water,As I had seen my father do before. I knew if I could get the old Dory and reach the spot before the breeze blew it away.I could perhaps get a few Eels for the next meal. we so badley needed. I knew the dory would drift very fast over the water so I had to be pretty fast to get one IF I saw one. Only years later would I figure out a way to slow the dorey down so to scan the bottom and perhaps [having] a fifty fifty chance of spearing the Eel.
Sunday was the lords day.
Everyone went to mass.
If there was no masswent to church,
As did our people for hunderds
of years,
They did not go because they
were drove or dragged or tricked
into going to church.like some
people like to make believe,
they went willingly, with this Wonderful
belief and faith of their forefathers,
St Anns day was something special
for the Micmac people, The church
was beautifully trimmed and
decorated inside.With green leafs
and ferns from the forest.
The wonderful scented fresh smell
of the forest inside the church
would remain with all who enter
for ever,
As the summer months passed as a boy I like others and other anamil specoes continued to survive on our wits,whos only thaught was survival,The weather was hot [and]with none of todays modern conveniences, even when much was avialable it was every days chore to get something to eat.Because if we got any more then two rabbits. it would begin to spoil by evening or next morning,so we had to be carefuf not to take any more then was needed for the day only,It was through our long custom of living this way perhaps kept us from getting poisoned,This feeling is with me even to this day, not leave anything to waste or spoil needlessly,
At night I would crawl into my so called bed coil up and try to sleep. the sand flies would swarm in [and] I could feel my skin burning all through the night,Sleep did not come easy under those condetions. As the sun came up the sand flies would all go away [then] you would hear me snoring ,catching up on the sleep I ahd lost last night,
[the following morning] aboout ten o'clock I would walk along by the fence [wodden posts and rails a boundry for our land]with a pole in my hand chance are there would be a mope [a small robin like berd but more stupid] this I would kill with a quick whack on the head with the pole.Pick this little bird and boil it for breakfast or my morning meal, now I'm ready again so the cycle goes on,I then take a piece of old rope and go back into the woods to rind some birch rind,[[peel the outer bark off a birch] I bring down a load of this bark. strip it up in about five inch wide sheets pack about six sheets of this bark and wedge it into a cloven alder as a torch,that night if it was calm we go torching for Eels,
At times we would have a few pounds of flour but this we dare touch until we were on the brink of starvation,tea we seldom had sugar the same any store food we got would be months apart, Getting back to torching for Eels, we sat around and waited patiently for night fall which was long in summer when darkness fell we were ready, In the stem of the dory we would stick up our torch stick. it usually was Gilbert and me if pop was'nt with us,one fellow would sit on the back twart the other fellow would do the spearing, we light the torch and ploe the dory around spearing Eels as we saw them not making a sound the only sound would be the burning bits of birch bark dropping in the water making a funny sound,when one fellow get tired standing the other fellow take a turn, at this time we would try to spear all the Eels we could, thirty forty or more.we come asore after daylight we would clean all the slime off the Eels, one by one we would use fine sand to cleam them when all the slime was off we wash them.[we would]wash the sand off with salt water,we hang them up to dry when the sun come up,in the afternoon they would be right stiff, We would take a sharp knife and split themtaking out the back bone.open them up run the knife blade across then lightly.hang them up again for awhile,These Eels would keep for a week. if we did'nt eat them all up first,In the afternoon after a nap we would go and try to catch a salmon for a change of diet,We had no net[ for] we did not know how to knit one. we had to depend on the spear snare or sometimes a hook to jig one,I think perhaps it was fortunate we did not have a net or perhaps we would kill too many salmon,
If we got couple salmon we would boil them in salt. we had no salt beef or grease to fry them, the only grease we had was Eel grease. and after a while this too would begin to smell bad, fresh Eel grease was a wonderful remedy for ear ache this was our main remedy it always worked,Eels were always fried because after frying a couple grease would accumulate in the pand, the first few pieces would perhaps be burned a little , but this did'nt matter,other times we would bake the eels, I forgot to mention when on the subject of winter eel spearing, One time Gilbert and myself was over at garden cove spearing through the ice we were getting a few eels, Uncle Denny came over to see if we got any, he brought his winter spear with him, we thought we knew how to spear as we used to watch the old people do it, we would take the end of the pole spear way out under the ice, Uncle denny cut a hole and grabbed the middle of the pole and started to stab the botton straight down we burst out laughing at him we thought he did not know how to spear, but to our surprise he started to haul up more eels then we did, he then went to all the holes we thought we had speared out and caught two or three in every hole we left, a lesson we never forgot,
There wasa a place we used to catch sea trout, it was called on the point,Every sunday at low tide the beach was lined with people,
I can still see them in my mind as it was yesterday,Uncle Joe Jeddore Uncle Denny Matty Burke Uncle Andrew Benoit uncle Paul, Steve John Albert mc'donald many others young and old,This was a wonderful to catch trout,Nobody had a fly rod. just Fir poles and what ever kind of line they coul get,
No matter what the season, We hunted rabbits Caribou Bear Beaver muskrat moose, Rules laws or regulations did not fill a hungrey stomach,Our Custom was the law.to us it was agood law. The Indian gave freely of what he had. because it was the only way he knew how to live.everything we shot or caught we ate.Fox we roasted over an open fire on a sciever when it was cooked we drove the sciever in the ground, everyone sat aroung sliced off and ate.Otter be baked in a dutch ovan over an open fire, a low fire with fire coals heaped on the cover,Otter meat was bitter had to be smoked with spruce bough smoke. well smoked before cooked,Muskrat we fried in bear fat and made gravey this one is delicious, if you keep the image out of your mind,All these anamils we ate when deer and beaver was very scarc and we could not get any, Partridge we seldom took. only on rare occasions, again only when caribou wa scarce,Caribou was our main source of food,Goose or black duck was something special, We did not hunt these but took couple when the happened to be on our route. The goose we baked in the dutch ovan as we did the otter,The black duck as stated before somewhere in my writings, With the backbone cut out. we dipped them in boiling water held there for about eight seconds taken out put on a birch bark sheet shake salt over it and eat, delicious again, Caribou was always roasted over an open fire fried in a pan sometimes gravey made. Gravey would be in place of bread most time when flour was scarce, when we did have enough flour to make pancakes, they would be fried in bear or caribou fat some time beaver grease,this good and delicious taste will linger with me the rest of my life,This is why it is so important to get in the country around the twentieth of september,Before the ruttinh season started,it would be nice to go in at the first of september to take the fat stags.but then we would just have to lie around and wast time[not that we did not have time to waste] but it would have been monotonous lieing around waiting for the long and short hair animals to prime,this would be around the fifth of october,We the Indian people lived intirely off the land just the same as our kinfolk the wildlife,we belonged to the land the land belonged to us, we had freedom that no amount of money could replace, I'm refering to real Indien people,this is how we lived,
Around the middle of september the time was approaching to get ready to go for the fall furring trip, As a young boy going on nine years old I was so excited [that] there was a great big lump in my stomach.
The time drew nearer finally the day arrived,It was sept 20 1931,in compane was the people I may have mentioned befroe,We had hired the Conne parish Boat as was called [ I will have to explain the purpose of this boat later on] this baot bould take us up to st veronicas tow our dories also, every year people would row the dories up there, but this year our trip happed to coincide with other furriers, Uncle Nichilas Jeddore his two sons Uncle Paul Nicholas and uncle Mattie, Uncle Noel louis Pop uncle Charley and me,so they decided to hire the boat, Sylvester was the boat operatoe,So on this warm september morning we set out, I could not contain my excitment and happiness I thought I was a giant,we put away our dories at st veronicas took our bundles [ packs]wakked in over the hills. WQe reached long pond about two o'clock in the afternoon.My father a very strong young man was selected to return to st veronicas to carry Uncle Nicholases canoe in long pond for him,this he did by six oclock that evening, I still cant understand why pop had to bring the canoe in, when Uncle Nicholas had to strong sons with him,
Uncle nicholas had a small store he could afford more then us. that evening he decided to have supper for all,Pop was to be the cook. since he had been cooking in lumber camps before, there was salt pork .beef.cabbage turnip and potatoes and so on, real high class stuff, I wss not nivited to sit in the circle of elders to eat. nor was uncle charley the only white man. so you can see there was discrimination even with the indian people,This sort of feast was for older people only . I may ahve gotten a potato in my hand, father saw to that,But this was the custom . I accepted it without any feeling of resentment, I knew my day would come when I too would be invited to sit and eat with the elders.Uncle charley may have felt bad though he did not show it,Years later I would have occasion to remember this. Uncke charley did not go hungrey he was allowed the left overs,
The Elders talked for most of the night. everyone spoke Micmac.there were bursts of laughter ever so often, I as an eight year old sat listening in awe,If a small swear word or something I understood was said, I too would join in the laughter,
The next day was niceand warm calm over the lake. some of us slept a little late we would remain here for another day,because this was a gathering as was the custom of our Micmac people, Indian were like that they had this loving togetherness, again that evening Pop was asked to cook supper, I remember we had the canoe by the water I wanted to go off and paddle around, though I did not tell anyone. Insead I got sulky, head hung down Uncle paul Picholas tried to cheer me up he stuck up a can and asked me to throw rocks at it to see who would beat, whild we were at that Pop thought he would help so he came out through the camp [tent] door with a shot gun and sang out [nick] I'll do better than that he threw the gun to his shoulder and let fly a load of shot,and too his embarresment clean missed, Uncle Paul N. said I'm damn if he did'nt do better,Pop said he too thought I was missing home, said he was of a mind to take me back home,Had he did so he would have ran into a situation raging home that would have ruined his fall he would not have gotten back in the country,
Very early the next morning the second morning everyone arose it was another nice day sunny and calm we would have to move swiftly before any wind came up, because long pond was very treacherous. if the wind came up if you was half way across you dont want to be in that situation, though nobody lost their life crossing in a canoe they have come very colse to it,Three canoes left the landing Uncle Nicholas and his two sons, Uncle Matt and Uncle Paul N IN one,Father myself and Uncle Charley were in our canoe Uncle Noel Louis the sole occupant in the other canoe, We paddled across the four mile stretch of water from landing to landing, we did it before the wind cameup about half way across the lake Uncle Nicholas and his boys branched off to the right, They were heading for berry hill their country, we were heading up bay'd.east us to inside sit down pond our country There we branched at goon.doe.ne.gwan. Micmac word for rock portage Uncle Noel on up pipestone Burnt pond his and Uncle John Benoit's country,From here on Uncle Noel would go it alone as he did for many years,Onthis day we reached Soulians portage we all camped there mid pertage, as we landed to pportage I was looking at the river being well used to sizing up Rivers I was looking at a pool boy I thought there must be trout there though no one had ever told me there was, After we made camp I found a trout hook got some line cut a fir pole got some black sewing cotton far cast,tied the hook on. was all set, then I thought what am I going to use for bait? I looked around old camping grounds which were used many times for years I found a cigarette pack inside were lead foil, some one richer then us had been there before. apparently could afford cigarettes, I wrapped some foil around the hook walked down to the pool and cast off, [nothing] another cast still nothing,a little further down the foot of the pool the water was smooth I cast there every cast I imagened a trout would come up, sure enough on this cast one did come up it was huge about six or eoight pounds, I did not play it at all but took it right ashore fine chance the line was strong enough to hold,
The procession route was
Decorated for over a mild long.
Green trees were stuck in the
close together. the walkway
was inclosed. Flags were by
the side allway around,
People came from miles to be
to take part in what the
Micmac people had they were made
welcome.
This day we Honored St Ann by
going to mass first, This took
about a hour,This hour of our
time was given completely to
almighty God,
The rest of the dau we had for
ourselves,There was eating dancing
playing football, No Indian left
the Reserve on this day,
Yes there was homebrew. Habitual
Drinkers were few and keps to
themselves,On special occasions
Older men drank. There were scuffles
scatterd tooth loosened but nothing
serious. Young boys were allowed to
drink a little but only under
supervision,
Christams was the same,
though we could not get to
Midnight Mass due to the time
of year and the isolation of the
place we kept it Holy,
There were prayers ans singing
burning of junks[chunks] at
Uncle Joe Jeddore's house,
I like to add here this burning
Junks was, [I dont know if it is
the right word]but grosly
misunderstood by the church,

This River was Quite large river, the Micmac people used it every year travelling in and out the country,This Fellow Lloyd Colbourne Film Man. for what reason I dont know would have you believe nothing like this ever happened,and referred to it as the Beothuk highway,This burns me .because here I am today who with others usen this river for hundreds of years for our highway before Mr Coulbourne was ever heard of,So he took great care to leave the Micmac people out and tried to destroy any connection regarding us and our rivers,Getting back to my first country trip,where I caught the trout,
I can still conjure up this great fear I had of this river in this flimsy cranky canoe. which to my father was as sturdy as an Iceburg.
As we paddled mile after mile up the pond [lake] whenever we came near enough to hear the River rapids howling I would become terrified and remain like this long after we passed the rapids,fourth day inward we paddled up souliasn pond auancle Noel was alone in his canoe he kept side by side with us, In our canoe Pop was paddling so was Uncle Charley in the bow with a paddlre also, Pop had made a smaller paddle for me so I would not get off scot free, Pop said all Uncle Charley and I did was dip our paddles in the water, we reached the rapids I sat shivering Pop and uncle Charley poled up the rapids Pop swearing at Uncle Charley because if there ever was a useless man he was one He put me in mind of a frightened puppy in the bow looking back from side to side waiting for Pop to tell him what side to put his pole on, This used to Drive Pop nuts, here we were I afraid of the Rapids and him afraid of Pop,
Up at the far end of soulians pond[lake] large boulders came into view, this was where the river came out, we reached the River and poled the canoe up so far when the rapids got too forceful we got out the took the canoe up with a rope, keeping her off from the rocks with a paddle,We came out into a beautiful lake, this was Brazil pond Rolling barren ground on each side, always a bear or two feeding on berries on one side or the other, Here a smooth ridge was called whales back because it looked like a whale, we paddled up brazil pond to the rapids that would take us to little burn pond, Here the rapild was really wild, We had to get ashore and line the canoe up again, here I used to be terrified coming out because Pop always said we run this one,one time we filled the canoe half full of water,we never did have life jackets,anyway we reached little burn pond,
We paddled uo little burn pond at the head we landed at round pond portage, right here the River was all gid rapids and medium size falls this is where our people caught very large lake trout, It wa told to me by John Joe Benoit My grandfather Chief Noel caught on that weighed fifty pounds,I was doubtful as to the authenticity of this story but when he told me how they rigged their bait I was inclined to believe it,He said they had to use real heavy line a large hook get a trout put the line out through the trouts belly tie the hook on then cast out in the foamy water fish as if the trout was swimmimg, in late years I heard this is how tuna is caught so I know it nust be true, I myself have seen nine pound trout caught here in later years,this portage was about five or six hundred yards across we made two trips to take all our supplies and the canoe over, here was a nice calm steady leading out to round pond, We did not make any rush going in, Just took our good time, We paddled out to round pond up along the southren shore up to a point where we had to strike out accross the pond when we were ready, but first we camp here because this was a sort of tradetional camping ground all our people camped here for hundreds of yearsm We put up camp here, when ever we put up camp it was always my job to pick fir boughs to bough the camp with,Go to memories two,