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THE
TRAPPER'S CABIN
By F. Bruce Ryans
(53-55, 56)
Up • Camp Hospital/Bayview Lodge • Dobson Centre • Health Centre • Kennabi Lodge • Kennabi Lodge - Some History • Mill Valley Manor • Programme Centre • QM Shed • The Rotary Hub • The Trapper's Cabin • Restoring The Trapper's Cabin • Pow Wow Lodge
In 1948 the 135th Troop arrived
at Camp Kennabi and settled at Big bear point. One day we toured the lake
by Queen and made a stop at the portage to Yankton Lake. Located there,
was a small, one room log cabin, in rather poor shape. Our guide, a Scot
by the name of Jimmy Bruce, but usually called Irish, gave us his account.
This was The Trapper’s Cabin.
We hiked the portage, saw
the pond, the lodge, the dam(s) and the half-chewed trees. We were more
interested in The Trapper than the beavers. We pictured that Trapper as
very old, and by then most certainly dead.
Over the next few years I
would trek that portage often. In June of 1953 Jim MacMurray and I canoed
to Wilberforce and back in one day. From 1953 to 1955 I would guide that
route and tell the cabin’s tale, many many times. In 1956, for me at least,
that tale would change forever. It takes, in this case, a tale to change
a tale.
It started when J.C. asked
me to work weekends. Howard (Beans) Harper provided the transportation.
We drove up Friday’s after work, and back Sundays. One time Beans planned
to stay at Hurst Lake until the next weekend. I arranged a lift home.
My father and two uncles
would be driving back to Toronto from our camp at Elephant Lake. I planned
to be picked up at the concrete bridge over the narrows between Grace and
Dark Lakes. It was less than a mile east of Agnew’s General Store in Wilberforce.
I needed a lift to Hidden
Bay that Sunday afternoon and Shirley provided the water taxi. I hiked
(no trails) south-east, skirted the south end of Iris lake, then headed
due east to the Burleigh Rd. Here I turned south towards Wilberforce. Within
minutes a pick-up provided a lift to town. We were headed for the Burleigh
Triangle.
About a mile north of the
Harcourt-Wilberforce Road the Burleigh forms a “Y”. The east branch arrives
at the narrows near the concrete bridge, the west branch arrives in town.
The main road and these two branches form the Burleigh Triangle.
The driver took the west
branch and dropped me in town. I hiked east on the main road to the concrete
bridge, sat down to rest and ate an apple. I was very, very early. They
had turned up the east branch, intending to pick me up. At that point I
was riding the west branch or walking the main road. They travelled
north almost to the then abandoned section of the Kennaway Road. Dad returned
to the “Y” and took the west branch into town. Much time had passed. I
decided that I could make it back to Lake Kennabi before dark. I hustled
north convinced that they had car trouble.
They were in town convinced
I was lost. Dad asked at Agnew’s for a guide and was sent to a farm west
of town. This man listened to his story, asked a few questions, and agreed
to guide. He knew that country well.
A party of four with canoe
and gear headed for the intersection to the Burleigh Road and the Yankton-Grace
portage. My uncles stood watch there, while Dad and guide paddled west
on Yankton.
Earlier I had hiked westward
following the north shore. I kept well back for easier going and struck
the Kennabi portage half-way up the big hill. They landed at that same
portage more than a half hour behind me, lit a Coleman lantern, left the
canoe, and hiked north in the fading light. The guide pointed out where
I struck that trail, and mentioned that I was moving too well to have been
injured.
When I neared the top of
the grade I cleared a downed pine and cut left to use the dam as a bridge
in order to circle the pond. I reached Kennabi and the cabin close to sunset.
The trackers reached a large
downed pine and startled a black bear that was bedding down on the far
side. They heard much more than they saw. They too circled the beaver pond.
I had some luck as I scanned
the lake. The last patrol boat came between Birch Point and Raider’s Island.
I flagged him down at sunset. We circled Buck Island and I could see the
dim light of dock lanterns at Rover’s Rest and Twister.
The trackers arrived at the
cabin in darkness. They saw some lights in the distance but heard no motors.
Archie Scott looked over his old cabin. He had built it with his brother
Charlie and used it as a hunting and fishing camp in the ‘30’s. Archie
and Dad headed back to the canoe, the truck and the two who had stood watch.
Hours later my ride rolled
into H.Q. and four of us headed home with plenty to talk about. I was interested
in the bear story.
 The following weekend, J.C.
wanted the rest of the story. He knew something of Archie Scott of Wilberforce.
He seemed to know that, like most local men, he worked the sawmills and
bush, farmed, hunted, fished and perhaps did a little trapping. He did
not doubt that the cabin was really a hunting and fishing camp. I said
that Archie was possibly a trapper but not “The Trapper” of Kennabi myth.
J.C. did not challenge that either. He said something about it being “The
Trapper’s Cabin” when he arrived on the scene and probably would remain
so. For me, the cabin’s tale was adjusted at that time, and I’m sure I
believed it would be the final tale. Not so!
Stuart Townsend called me
from Glenwood Alberta, just to keep in touch (Sat. 24/06/2000). His family
built Dad’s camp (cottage, ice house, boathouse etc.) back in 1944-45.
They lived in a log cabin where Dad’s road met the Elephant Lake Road.
He attended school in Harcourt so I asked about Archie Scott. He
knew some relatives in Harcourt, but not Archie himself. He verified
the general location of Archie’s farm just west of Wilberforce, but thought
that his mother knew much more. Stuart said he would get back to me.
 I got another call from Glenwood
Alberta (Sun. 25/06/2000). Stuart put his mother on the line, a lady I
had last seen and spoken to in the late 1940’s. At 84 she set me straight.
Archie had a brother Charlie, who had two sons, Clayton, and Wallace who
ran a store in Harcourt. She said that Archie made most of his money from
the lumber industry. She also knew of his hunting and fishing cabin on
Kennibik Lake (Kennabi), but doubted very much that he would have had time
to trap. He had a neighbour who trapped, but not Archie. Mrs. Townsend
then asked me if I knew that he was called Black Archie. I did not, and
asked whether this referred to his hair colour or his complexion. She paused
and then replied, “He had a reputation... with the ladies”.
I would now say that the
cabin on Kennibik was really Black Archie’s Hunting and Fishing Camp.
J.C. was right of course. It is The Trapper’s Cabin, just check your Kennabi
map.
See also "Restoring
the Trapper's Cabin"
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