Mollie Adams Diary of her Journey in the Canadian Rockies, July 12, 1908

Camp Unwin Sunday, July 12 Another fine day. Very little wind, perfect reflections almost all the time. The actual rowing time back to Chaba Camp was only 4¾ hrs. At only one place have we seen a sign of anyone having been up the lake before, and that was about half way between Camps Chaba and Unwin on the south shore. A tree was blazed conspicuously and near by a charred log, the remains of a camp fire. It may have been a trapper, timber cruiser or prospector; Indian or white man; and probably he was there in the winter on snowshoes. We all agree that Maligne Lake is one of the finest things in the Rockies or Selkirks. The upper half is right in the high mountains, the lower more open and gentle looking. It will probably be a great resort some day when the Grand Trunk is done. We arrived at the Chaba Camp landing at about 2:30. W. and U. went off to find the horses and bring some down; N. started to walk up; Mr. B., H. and I dismantled H.M.S. Chaba. She was built without a nail or spike – the big logs pinned together with wooden pegs, and the rest lashed with sling ropes and some spare ones they brought for the purpose. So the foundation of her will last a long time, and may be useful to some one else some day. We did not try fishing in the lake, as we were convinced by our own common sense as well as by the opinion of the scientific member of the party that there were none there. No small fish at any of the creeks or shallows, never a sign of a ring made by a fish rising in the still evenings, and many more strange, small creatures of all kinds around the edges than could possibly be there if there were fish to eat them. Bugler, Dandy and Baldy soon hove in sight, and the rest were reported to be all there. The cameras, etc., were tied on my saddle and I started forth trusting entirely to Bugler to find the way. He took me without a second’s hesitation but instead of going to the site of our tents, he landed me up in the next patch of woods beside old Pinto who was mooning around there alone. The horses had made a regular stamping ground of our camp while we were away, and we had hard work keeping them away after we got settled again. M. kept as busy as a dog chasing chickens. Muggins was probably the best pleased of all the idle part of the family to give up a seafaring life. He was bored to death by it, very restless whenever we approached shore, and varied the monotony occasionally by going out and sitting like a figurehead on a projecting log at the bow. Mosquitoes were pretty fierce, bug-nets and gloves useful.


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