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Upon arriving at the bay either by sea or land, naturally people were concerned with survival, and found the basic necessity in life, (Food, Shelter, Clothing).
At the same time, they had little security and were living off the land with its earthly rich natural life, that sustained them for many centuries.
Their family's emotional stability was generated among the clans and built their self esteem. I think this was reached from the forerunners of ancient times. That would be the people/settlements on the inland country, after accruing goods for winter, (the long March month), and to hackle years that follow in the same destiny that attract humans of other countries of the worlds to start an empire.
There were different clans who traveled in different directions, probably from Nova Scotia, Quebec, Labrador or by sea from other parts of the world. They paddled/walked to the main areas and where there were, lots of caribou, bear, beaver and to the shores, cod, ells, salmon all summer long, nice and warm with a small shelter for there children they lived.
Harry's river and Southwest Brook, Barachois Brook, Flat Bay Brook, Fischles River and Robbinson's River led to the interior of the country and they set up base sites for survival. There are other areas but these will be talked about in later chapters. Winter’s close arriving, so they must travel the inland waters to survive harsh storms and have a good wood supply, and lots of fur animals. Perhaps they left strong women and men to look after older people and stayed along the shorelines, but not very likely?
Scouts combed the country for caribou herds, where the caribou crossed in migration the Indians stayed.
Their main campsites were set up near that area. The coastal shores where summer homes and accrued goods for the winter season. All in the light common places had to be set up where Food, Shelter, Clothing was and essential for survival in winter. Only that level of life was set in a society in those days many years ago and not known to other countries of the world, because very little was written in history of those days.
To understand the ancient people and survival one must fall back 500 years,ie: no paved roads, trains, cars, or modern boats, shops, no money system, no social department /government and no homes, (only huts/ wigwam’s) and on the country paths. The Island of NEWLOUNDLAND was the People’s Kitchen, no one could get lost in their own Kitchen, and they know where food was and how to survive.
Structural traditional teachings on life and how to survive was a must factor and a important part of social and economic development in settlements. Closely knitted families had to work hard together and face reality but since kept their dignity as a people.
Survival normally suggests food, shelter, clothing and on the balance of probability I have reason to conclude that, the areas, of the Main Gut, Flat Bay Valley, Barachois Brook, Fishels for easy accesst on dog team to the country, are the main short-term settlement with a clan of two to five Families in each area lived.
Coming together for gathering/pow wow at start of each season and to meet in center of Bay St.George, the main Mi’kmaq population that existed down through the centuries.
Keeping in mind the 1808 census that there were 102 inhabitants...there were no count of Mi’kmaq wandering or living inland were taken in Bay St. George. In 1871 there were 150 people at Flat Bay area. In 1894 Bank Head had 35 people. In 1894 Main River 32 people still at large. I can go on, on, and on but my interests lie years before those times because we only have general knowledge and little is written of trails, settlement, and bones of this area. ...
On arriving in Newfoundland on the Southwest side, the first humans here did not come here by planes, so they either came hear by sea in small shallop boats and walked, or used dog sleds to cross in winter on area such as Northern Peninsula. That leaves two possible ways people arrived regarding this area of the Island Bay St.George, Western Newfoundland.
Bay St. George the third largest bay in North America, is defined by its banks that are eroding from warbling waves bulging by the great Atlantic ocean and mountain ranges extending as far as the eye can see, battered by prevailing winds, separated from the basin, in an early setting by the entrance to the harbor. In the far East Steel Mountain rises, highlighted by the beaches on the foot of the bay, the Main Gut and surrounding area.
In 1970 I sailed with Upper Lake Shipping Company in Ontario and stood in the wheelhouse on one of their ships of Ontario Power, to dock at Turf Point for a load of gypsum in St.Georges before sailing to our neighboring country, USA.
Before entering on the north side of Sandy Point, noted in history to be the oldest settlement in Bay St. George, I could see to the South East extended valleys and water-ways of those great river systems, and trails placed there by natural landsides , showing us direction of the ice retreated from glacial movement, that took parts of the earth out to sea, and could see on all corners of the bay from the wheelhouse.
To the southwest, rolling mountain ranges, peaks 3000 thousand feet above sea level, the forest battered by prevailing winds 130 kl per.hr, passing places like Wreck House, before entering the Port au Basque area, where many ships ,like the William Carson, docked at one time before it’s departure to North Sidney, NS.
Beyond to the most northwest end entering the bay, the tip of the ancient Cape St. George, Port Au Port peninsula and rigged layers of shale, some miles of cliff bedding to the north end.
To the North, Loyola’s Hills, mid summer still snow capped before entering Corner Brook country and countless mounds shifted by glacial movement billions of years ago.
I then imagined on to the great Northern Peninsula,separating Labrador southern shores and define a crossing by canoe and dog team in winter on the land of the forgotten.
This Island once was attached to the massive land areas of Labrador, approximately 112,000 square miles, where Indians piloted, at ease, crossed the trails that were already there and now by natural waterways, in the land called New Found Land. The sea that separates this land was connected for caribou herds/people that migrate and live along banks of the great rivers that flow too the ocean.
But those waterways were there and their harsh velds that led people to the interiors, to an unknown land call the Rock, yet they worked and then stayed at their destiny, on the greatest Island known in history of today.
Now at the entrance, miles of untouched beaches, "Little Florida" I called it, but the climate much cooler in winter averaging 20 degrees below freezing.
In summer it's glorious picture plant, I yearn to hold, (after being away for some months), holding fresh secret water that symbolizes life in the natural world and animals to nourish this unknown kingdom, tempter’s reaching 80 degrees in the height of the season.
The forest looked like billions of ants resting upon stone.
The homes near the Gypsum Dock, at Seal Rocks, shaded beneath the sand doom ledges, and TCH passed through. This area lay an end to history's longest trail, known to this land, when Cormack crossed the Island in 1822 and rested there with his two Mi’kmaq guides, before departing to Sandy Point, that no longer exists....
Centuries before, this bay was sailed by many ships/people and they anchored to seek refuge to this part of the Island and called it their home....
Now docking at one of the older settlements, I could feel the fresh scent of mother earth entering my nostrils and a breeze of air gently blowing through my hair, that’s freedom at its best....
Their mind/body/spirit was ebbing fast, only then, after reading that journal, I relived the trail of truth, and what happened to the hero of the past.
This became my entire interest in life, that never left, to follow the path at last, in good thought, things in life that had no sense of time..... this kind of listener I did grasp.
They traveled through old country paths. matted there like mats, even only catching a scattered caribou, artic hare, beaver, fishing, and living, three months in this ample depth of blue, with only basic necessities, too.
When the sun vanished, sometimes storms came upon, and then they rested in the camp to yammer, while repairing their cloths, for the next day’s light.
Then over the creeks, on the peaks, steady on their feet, traveling down the vale. Yes it's fair to say, they could only travel 30 miles a day, at their best, sometimes in fear of what lie ahead, before bedding down at night.
On that trail,a resolution was made with dignity, life then, did unveil,and found patted natural trails across Newfoundland, finely to Little Level, down through Coal Brook, crossed Flat Bay Brook, a fire, their mother, they’re for care, and a breath of fresh air, close to the great big pine. They made it to the Path End Trail, to the Big Marsh, and out across Dogs Town.
Finally two encampments, with lots of previsions, at the end of a long but worthy fall and to Seal Rocks in Bay St. George, one mile to go, then rest for ten, at Sandy Point, to tell all the tails of what he found.
When that all came to a halt, after the all time, number one , trail brightened our history pages, that started a chain of writing of time. .
No more trapping fur, or where parties meet, glad in a blur, where Sevester Joe met his friend, Gabriel, and fostered, Cormack to the very end.
We now fly those locations, and bring back antlers, jaw bones and meat, to show courtesy to our fellow man.
Those memories of our past began, for me to see, because it all started with those three courageous men.
None brought honor to those two Mi’kmaq that showed mankind it wasn’t any game/gain for them, it was only their home at any bend.
But it marked in History the Beothuks' sites and that what they saw was barren, yet fought passage through this great land and only found a settlement of a small band.
Yes, their journey on this earth, especially on this rock and our entire ken, is still alive in camps on mounds among the ground, and they tried to stay free from larger towns.
Indians of the past...... that’s all the Indians owned, and faded like glacial ice and stone.
Yes, they had no backup, but that’s RED MAN and that is how they survived..
The people’s arrow heads, made from chert, and their way of life, rooming the waters ways, you see.
There are many skills to fall big game... it’s only a laugh, for those Indians to lash, a caribou in a pond, or near a lake or on a river at dawn.
Then to make a canoe, that’s easy too, then they arrive back at their wigwam, and vanishe like eagles in the fall.
It is to tell no lie, I’m here, only one, piratical here and there, and forgotten soon after I’m gone.
Many before me wrote that it is worth someone’s while to right a song about the excursions and campsites across this isle, and leave the memories natural, where they belong.
HA, all the fame of man, in this land, can’t capture or come close to Cormack’s style, because the trails are still there, they are not gone!
Only partly covered by people’s lawns, and that’s a big enough bond.!.......,....
Composed, Dec.25, 05,5:15, at the break of this glories day. Victor James Muise Jr, 111th Pikto'l Sa'le'j Muise
Snowflakes began falling late that evening and darkness had already set in. The lanterns were lit. Susanne, her children and the servant girl ate supper and then Susanne rested while the children played and the servant girl completed her chores for the evening. A visitor came to the house afterwards although no one remembers whom it was. Apparently, the visitor stayed with the family that night.
Sometime during the night after everyone was asleep fire broke out at the Young’s residence. Susanne woke up in a panic when the odour of smoke filler her room. She raced frantically through the thick smoke to save her children. She grabbed the youngest child and she put him outside a then made her way upstairs searching for the other child. But the smoke was so thick it was choking her and then the entire house was engulfed in flames. There was no escape from this burning inferno and everyone perished in this tragic fire.
Funeral services for the family took place on December fifteenth, eighteen hundred and eighty. The remains of the victims were buried on the exact location where they perished. The gravesite remains visible today after one hundred and twenty-five years. The people who travel the shoreline and have knowledge of this tragedy always visit the graves. Mother Nature provides different varieties of flowers on the gravesite annually. Susanne’s husband George was left alone with one child in Bank Head and later in years, he remarried and started another family.
