Some of the smaller children had pus-filled sores and blisters on their hands that their parents blame on the E. coli that has infected the drinking water.

Others complained of itchy skin and painful rashes they say were caused by heavy doses of chlorine used in an apparently futile attempt by the authorities to kill the bacteria.

The evacuation of this 1,700-strong Cree reserve on James Bay, 400 kilometres north of Timmins, began in earnest yesterday.

Three small planes arrived to ship the needy to communities further south where they will spend the winter in hotels or with relatives.

The first flight of the day was reserved for those most affected by the poisonous water. On the late afternoon flight there were pregnant women and mothers with small children and their immediate relatives.

Among those to be taken to Sudbury was Christopher Wesley, 20, and his one-year-old son Roman, who waited in line with close to 50 people to board the twin-turbo prop.

Emma Koosees, a band counsellor, was escorting her 17-year-old daughter Erika who is seven months pregnant, and two other smaller children.

Erika, her mother said, had become sick because of the bad water in Kashechewan and there were fears she would lose her unborn child if she isn't treated quickly.

It was only yesterday afternoon that Ms. Koosees and her family learned they had a spot on a plane out after other residents postponed their departure.

They had only two hours to pack.

"I don't even know if we'll ever come back," Ms. Koosees said. "All I've got is my clothes. I left everything else behind. But we have to get away from this terrible water."

By late afternoon it was still unclear whether the evacuations would mark the beginning of the end for Kashechewan, a settlement established in the 1950s on ancient hunting grounds.

Many residents are demanding that the federal government finance the construction of a new community built from scratch on higher ground at a cost that would likely run into hundreds of millions of dollars.

Last night, after a day of high emotion, the federal government agreed to start the community over again in a new location.

After years of watching as their complaints about poor water quality, substandard housing and federal cutbacks fell on deaf ears, the natives of Kashechewan were shocked that their plight was suddenly of national interest.

At the airstrip several held banners. "Dogs drink better water," one read.

"Third Nations," said another.

Judy Stephen, a 48-year-old teacher, said: "We're very frustrated with the federal government. They seem to be listening now but their actions are so limited. And they've known about this for years."

Apportioning blame for the putrid condition of Kashechewan's water is no simple matter. Multiple authorities -- provincial, federal and local -- have had a say in the construction and operation of the water purification and sewage management systems that have led to the crisis.

Most residents say the lion's share of the fault lies at Ottawa's door.

Stephanie Williams, 31, a librarian, said: "I'm surprised at how quickly they send aid to other countries. Maybe we deserve the same treatment as those abroad."

At a lunchtime meeting in the school gym attended by hundreds of local residents, one speaker called for the resignation of Indian Affairs Minister Andy Scott.

Henry Koosees, 31, said: "I came from Timmins 13 years ago and there was a boil-water advisory in place then. That's how I know the government has been neglecting our people."

For most non-aboriginal Canadians the bitterness and squalor on the Kashechewan reserve would be deeply shocking.

Overcrowding is endemic. Family members often live three or four to a room, the windows of many houses are boarded up and garbage litters the gardens and ditches.

Empty bottles of vodka -- smuggled in and sold by bootleggers at up to $100 a bottle -- are strewn in many gardens.

Unemployment is rife, with estimates suggesting that up to 80 per cent of adults are without work.

When monthly welfare cheques were given out at the band office yesterday afternoon the queue snaked out of the front door and into the streets.

"If people in Hamilton saw this sort of thing on their way to work there would be a huge outcry," a member of the security forces from Southern Ontario said yesterday.

"But nobody sees what happens up here. Nobody ever comes here."