Clergyman's Bonfire Grows Into Conflagration, Threatening H.B.C. Post and Natives' Homes

BY GEO. FINDLAY, Moose Factory

A Journal extract, dated August 25th, 1920, states briefly that:

"The Rev. Mr. Haythornthwaite while burning old tree stumps at the back of the Mission allowed the fire to run on, thereby setting alight the adjoining bush."

That day, a Wednesday, was excessively hot, and, as the whole summer had been very warm, all the bush and undergrowth must have been perfectly dry. At 2 o'clock in the afternoon the cry of "Fire" went up, and from the southwest end of the island a big column of smoke began to darken the air, blowing in the direction of the Post.

For some minutes the natives stood gazing and then the realization that the Island was afire broke upon them. Something akin to panic set in. Canoes were loaded. Food, blankets and tents were thrown haphazardly into them, and they were swiftly paddled to the opposite bank of the river by the fear-stricken natives.

Imagine the scene: The river dotted with canoes, with their multicoloured loads; the roar of the ever-increasing fire, as it was fanned by a slight breeze, and the strange stillness that pervaded the Post, which can be sensed only in a deserted place.

The servants returned as soon as their families were safely "entrenched" on the other side of the river, and each with his axe hurried to the scene of the outbreak.

In company with Mr. Gaudet, our Post Manager, I went to see the progress made by the fire. Often we were compelled to change our route through the bush on account of the terrific heat and the choking, blinding smoke. In many places great patches of undergrowth were blazing quite a distance from the body of the fire, sparks having been blown ahead by the wind.

The roar of the fire was deafening as it caught fresh trees, shooting great lurid tongues of flame up their entire thirty feet. Darker and darker grew the air; the heat became fiercer; the fire advanced as if to satisfy its terrible hunger by enveloping the entire Island in its scorching clutch; and as we walked back to the deserted Post thoughts of having to abandon it ran through our minds.

However the wind dropped, and the little band of fire fighters worked hard to accomplish their task. Had the wind risen, the whole island would have been devastated.

All that night, and the succeeding five days and nights, gangs of natives (who had by this time got over their fright) and servants watched the fire until it was successfully stamped out.