Tookenay

My first trip to Dayohessarah Lake was with my brothers, Dan and Larry, and my Uncle Chauncey Depew. I was 12 years old. The fifteen portages to Dayohessarah from Tookenay Lake were the Tookenays’ trapline. I remember two cabins. One was two portages from Tookenay Lake. The second, a log structure, was on the south end of Dayohessarah. A tent like structure was on a lake another six portages beyond Tookenay, ‘Tent Lake’.

Leo, Bella and adopted daughter, Gladys, were the only Tookenay children I remember, and particularly Bella. The Tookenays were a family to be admired for their knowledge of the bush and how to survive. Mrs. Tookenay carried her own firewood, if necessary, and I remember her walking down the Picnic Lake (Kobinobakeeagama- lake at the foot of the big hill, ‘Pimple’) road carrying a 6 foot log when she was in her seventies. She had a kind voice to young people and stamina and mental strength that anyone would respect. Bella was tall and physically strong, taller than her Mother. She could carry a canoe and packsack that would make people today look inept.

Other than my brother, Dan, the Tookenays, Johnny Cook, the Lake family, Frank Bannanish and Rolly Marchand were the ones that us bush kids admired. These were strong people who move quickly and deftly through the bush and along portages. Many tried to emulate them including me. Once when Jim Mulligan and I were at Dayohessarah, White River Air flew our gear out. We had an axe, a Spanish onion for food and a 15 foot chestnut cedar strip canoe. We ran the portages where we could and made it to Tookenay Lake in five hours. Even Johnny Cook was impressed but I’m sure Johnny and Bella could have made it in four.

In those days we travelled by rail and canoe. A few people had vehicles to drive to Tookenay Lake, the East switch section Foreman’s house, or 10 miles west, past Crockers Lake to Green Lakes. It was the best of times.

On my second trip to Dayohessarah, age 14, with Larry and our cousin, Bill Hawke, we arrived to find a high northeast wind and we were unable to go on the Lake to fish. Mrs. Tookenay invited us to stay with them at their log cabin at the south end of the Lake and treated us like family. She put spruce branches down making us a comfortable bed and cooked us a delicious bannock and Lake trout dinner. Bella seemed amused and pleased to have us for company.

A few years before this, during the winter, Mrs. Tookenay’s husband, Frank, had an appendicitis attack at Dayohessarah and died on the way back to White River. Mrs. Tookenay pulled her husband on a sleigh all the way home…Tookenay.

I still travel by canoe in that area and will never forget these women. In many ways they define what I would like to be. To me the name ‘Tookenay’ will always be said with respect.

We have a new pup, a beautiful strong husky. Her name is Tookenay.

*****

About the author: Brian Mealey was born in 1937 in White River, half way between the Sault and Thunder Bay. In those days travel was by CPR Rail, however canoe was and is his favourite mode of travel in the bush. Having been an intense hunter, fisherman and general bushman, he has learned to be a protector of all living things, particularly of moose. Most of his stories are drawn from his experiences travelling, working and playing in the Northern Ontario bush.