The weary winter passing at Nelson Encampment had its bright spots.  Miles Macdonell in the building erected for himself, on the south side of the Nelson River, kept up his mess, having with him Mr. Hillier, Priest Bourke, Doctor Edwards, and Messrs. John McLeod, Whitford and Michael Macdonell, officers and clerks.  Those Immigrants who took no part in the rebellion fared well.  True, the scurvy seized several of them, but proved harmless to those who obeyed the orders and took plentiful potations of spruce beer.  With the opening year a fair supply of fresh and dried venison was supplied by the Indians.  In April upwards of thirty deer were snared or shot by the settlers.  Some three thousand deer of several different kinds crossed the Nelson River within a month.  “Fresh venison,” writes Macdonell, “was so plenty that our men would not taste salt meat.  We have all got better since we came to Hudson Bay.”

But as in all far northern climates the heat was great in the months of May and June, and Governor and Colonists became alike restless to start on the inland journey.

The passing out of the ice in north-flowing rivers is always wearisome for those who are waiting to ascend.  Beginning to melt farther south, the ice at the mouth is always last to move.  Besides, the arrival was anxiously awaited of Bird, Sinclair and House.  By continuous urging of the dull and inefficient workmen to greater effort, Miles Macdonell had succeeded in securing four boats—­none too well built—­but commodious enough to carry his boat-crews, workmen, and Colonists.

Though Macdonell sought for the selection of the workmen who were to accompany him to Red River, he was not able to move the Hudson’s Bay Company officials.  Two days, however, after arrival of the Company magnates from the interior his men were secured to him, and he was fully occupied in transporting his stores up the river as far as the “Rock”—­the rapids of the Hill River which here falls into Hayes River.  For a long distance up the river there is a broad stream, one-quarter of a mile wide, running at the rate of two miles an hour through low banks.  The boatmen have a good steady pull up the river for some sixty miles, and here where the Steel River enters the Hayes is seen a wide, deep, rapid stream running about three miles an hour.  The banks of this river are of clay and rising from fifty to one hundred feet, the clay of the banks is so smooth and white that a traveller has compared them in color to the white, chalk cliffs of Dover.  Thus far though it has required exertion on the part of the boatmen, a good stretch of a hundred miles from the Factory has been passed without any obstruction or delay.  Now the serious work of the journey begins.  The Hill River, as this part of the river is called, is a series of rapids and portages—­where the cargo and boat have both to be carried around a rapid; of decharges where the cargo has thus to be carried, and of semi-decharges—­where a portion of the cargo only needs to be removed.