Canadian Wilds: Tells About the Hudson's Bay Company, Northern Indians and Their Modes of Hunting, Trapping, Etc

In Short

This book is a collection of memoirs and instructional essays written by a long-serving Hudson’s Bay Company officer. It documents the daily realities of life in the Canadian bush during the late 19th century, covering everything from the mechanics of trapping beavers and foxes to the logistical challenges of managing trading posts. By detailing the interactions between the company, the "free traders," and the indigenous hunters, it preserves a firsthand account of an era defined by extreme isolation, physical hardship, and the quiet, rhythmic labor of survival in the far north.

The Story

The narrative begins with the author’s entry into the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1863 and follows his forty-year career across the vast, rugged expanse from Labrador to the headwaters of the St. Lawrence. The author presents himself as an insider, a man who learned the secrets of the bush not from books, but by traveling thousands of miles by canoe and snowshoe alongside native hunters. He recounts the strict, almost military discipline of the company’s outposts, where the arrival of the "Allowance Canoe" marked a rare moment of reunion for isolated officers who spent the rest of the year hundreds of miles apart.

As the story progresses, the focus shifts from the internal operations of the company to the complex relationship between the traders and the Indian populations. The author describes a time when the fur trade was governed by a strict system of credit and mutual respect, yet he chronicles the eventual decline of this order. He laments the arrival of opportunistic "Free Traders" who disrupted the trade by bidding up prices for furs, leading to the corruption of the once-sober and self-reliant Indian hunters. He depicts the sad transformation of these communities, noting how many were driven from their traditional, nomadic ways into the cycle of poverty found near the burgeoning railway stations.

Beyond the business of furs, the narrative is filled with the granular details of survival. The author provides a vivid, often brutal account of life in the wilderness, describing "deer sickness"—a collapse from exhaustion while tracking game—and the constant, lurking threat of the "Indian Devil," or wolverine, which he portrays as a destructive, intelligent menace. The book also recounts moments of accidental drama, such as the story of Ralson, a man whose clumsiness led him to accidentally trap his own foot in a heavy steel implement, requiring a grueling rescue.

The arc of the book concludes with the author’s reflections on the end of his tenure and the changing nature of the north. He discusses the eventual obsolescence of traditional skills, such as the specific, labor-intensive methods of chiseling beaver through ice. He paints a portrait of a landscape that is being steadily encroached upon by modernity, arguing that the loss of self-reliance among the men who inhabit the bush signals the end of a unique, hardy culture. By the time he leaves the service in 1903, the wilderness he describes has shifted from a place of wild, independent endurance into one increasingly defined by external economic pressures, leaving behind only the memory of a harder, simpler time.

How It Unfolds

The company structure The author explains the rigid, hierarchical life of the Hudson’s Bay Company posts, detailing the logistics of provisioning, the etiquette of annual meetings, and the strict adherence to trade rules.

The shift in trade The narrative moves to the arrival of independent traders, whose reckless credit policies destroyed the long-standing economic stability of the region and demoralized the indigenous hunting populations.

The techniques of the hunt The book transitions into a series of technical chapters, providing detailed instructions on how to trap specific animals like lynx, marten, and beaver using traditional tools and methods.

The reality of the bush The author shares cautionary tales and personal anecdotes, illustrating the physical dangers of the northern climate, the necessity of having a reliable "pard," and the mental toll of extreme isolation.

The final look back In the concluding chapters, the author reflects on the loss of the old ways, the failure of efforts to turn nomadic hunters into farmers, and his own departure from the life he once knew.

The People

The Author serves as the primary observer and narrator. A long-term Hudson’s Bay Company officer, he defines himself through his expertise in bushcraft and his loyalty to the company’s traditional, disciplined approach to trade. He is pragmatic, slightly paternalistic, and deeply nostalgic for a time when the rules of the wilderness were clear and respected.

The Indian Hunters are the central figures of the trade. Once described as "truthful, sober, and honest," they are depicted as masters of the woods who move seamlessly through the landscape. Through the author’s eyes, their story is one of decline; he portrays them as the victims of the "liquor curse" and the reckless greed of modern traders, which ultimately stripped them of their dignity and their traditional way of life.

Ralson appears as a representative of the inexperienced men who occasionally arrived in the north, unsuited for the harsh reality of the bush. His accidental entrapment serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of carelessness. His eventual return to his wealthy mother in London underscores the author’s belief that the wilderness was no place for the soft or the ill-prepared.

Wa-sa-Kejic is the quintessential hunter. Skilled, observant, and connected to the rhythms of the forest, he represents the type of indigenous partner the author most respects. He acts as a teacher, demonstrating the subtle, lethal precision required to survive.

In Its Own Voice

The modes of Trapping and Hunting were learned directly by personal participation in the chase with the Indians and the other stories heard first hand from the red man.

This sentence appears in the introduction, clarifying the author's primary source of knowledge.

It is a most pitiful sight for one to travel on the C. P. U. line and see at the stations along the interior the ragged bodies and emaciated features of the Indians who hang about the stations.

This observation occurs in the middle of the book, illustrating the author's grim perspective on the decline of the indigenous communities.

Brother trappers, I know whereof I write; I have tried both and I say for division of labor, for good comradeship and for positive safety select and join fortune with "A Good Pard."

In this passage, the author offers a piece of hard-won advice regarding the necessity of companionship for those living in the deep wilderness.

What It's Really About

The book is fundamentally an argument for the necessity of discipline and self-reliance in the face of an unforgiving natural environment. Beneath the practical advice on trapping and camping lies a deeper preoccupation with the erosion of character. The author contends that the introduction of modern, unchecked commerce—specifically the "Free Trader" system—did not bring prosperity but rather destroyed a fragile, indigenous socioeconomic balance that had kept people healthy and productive for generations. The book poses a persistent question: what happens to a culture when its traditional means of sustenance are replaced by transient, destructive, and external economic incentives? It is a meditation on the cost of progress and the slow, inevitable disappearance of a life defined by the seasons rather than the marketplace.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate detailed, practical history will find this book deeply rewarding. It reads like a field guide to a lost world, filled with precise descriptions of how to survive temperatures that turn iron brittle and how to read the landscape for signs of game. It is a slow, methodical read that requires patience, as the author often pauses to explain the minutiae of trap-setting or the correct way to dry moccasins by the fire.

However, readers should be prepared for the author’s period-typical attitudes. His views on indigenous people, while born of decades of proximity, are framed by the paternalistic and often derogatory lens of a colonial officer; he frequently characterizes the nomadic life as "pagan" and views the interference of missionaries and modern traders as the primary cause of the hunters' decline. Despite these dated perspectives, the book remains a fascinating historical document. It offers a rare, granular look at the logistics of the Hudson's Bay Company and provides a vivid, tactile sense of the Canadian north before it was fully opened by the railway. It is a book for those who want to understand the physical reality of the frontier, capturing the quiet, lonely, and often dangerous work that built the foundation of the northern fur trade.