The Saguenay River—Chicoutimi—Storm Picture—Hudson’s Bay Company—Eminent Merchant—The Mountaineer Indians—Tadousac—Ruin of a Jesuit Establishment.
About one hundred and fifty miles north of the St. Lawrence, and on one of the trails leading to Hudson’s Bay, lies a beautiful Lake called St. John. It is about forty miles long, and surrounded with a heavily timbered and rather level country. Its inlets are numerous, and twelve of them are regular rivers. Its waters are clear, and abound in a great variety of uncommonly fine fish. The principal outlet to this Lake is the Saguenay river, which takes a southerly direction, and empties into the St. Lawrence. It is the largest tributary of the great river, and unquestionably one of the most remarkable on the continent. Its original Indian name was Chicoutimi, signifying _Deep Water_; but the early Jesuit missionaries, who have scattered their _Saint-anic_ names over this entire country, thought proper to give it the name which it now bears, and the round-about interpretation of which is, _Nose of the Sack_. This name suggests to the world that the nose of St. John must have been a very long nose, and may be looked upon as a unique specimen of French poetry.
The scenery of the Saguenay is wild and romantic to an uncommon degree. The first half of its course averages half a mile in width, and runs through an untrodden wilderness of pine and spruce covered hills. It abounds in waterfalls and rapids, and is only navigable for the Indian canoe. A few miles below the most southern fall on the river the village of Chicoutimi is situated, where an extensive lumbering business is transacted, and the Hudson’s Bay Company have an important post. The village has an ancient appearance, and contains about five hundred inhabitants, chiefly Canadian French. The only curiosity in the place is a rude Catholic Church, which is said to have been built by Jesuit missionaries upwards of one hundred years ago. It occupies the centre of a grassy lawn, surrounded with shrubbery, backed by a cluster of wood-crowned hills, and commands a fine prospect, not only of the Saguenay, but also of a spacious bay, into which there empties a noble mountain stream, now known as Chicoutimi River. In the belfry of this venerable church hangs a clear-toned bell, with an inscription upon it which the learning of Canada (with all its learned and unnumbered priests) has not yet been able to translate or expound. But, great as is the mystery of this inscription, it is less mysterious to my mind than are the motives of the Romish Church in planting the cross in the remotest corners of the earth, as well as in the mightiest of cities.