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diff --git a/4019-h/4019-h.htm b/4019-h/4019-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c4b05e --- /dev/null +++ b/4019-h/4019-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11026 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Lure of the Labrador Wild, by Dillon Wallace +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Lure of the Labrador Wild, by Dillon Wallace + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lure of the Labrador Wild + +Author: Dillon Wallace + +Posting Date: June 4, 2009 [EBook #4019] +Release Date: May, 2003 +First Posted: October 11, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR WILD *** + + + + +Produced by Martin Schub. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR WILD +</H1> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> + The Story of the Exploring Expedition<BR> + Conducted by Leonidas Hubbard, Jr.<BR> +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Dillon Wallace +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + L.H.<BR> +<BR><BR> + Here, b'y, is the issue of our plighted troth.<BR> + Why I am the scribe and not you, God knows:<BR> + and you have his secret.<BR> +<BR><BR> + D.W.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "There's no sense in going further—it's the edge of cultivation,"<BR> + So they said, and I believed it...<BR> + Till a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes<BR> + On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated—so:<BR> + "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges—<BR> + Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!"<BR> + —Kipling's "The Explorer."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION +</H3> + +<P> +Three years have passed since Hubbard and I began that fateful journey +into Labrador of which this volume is a record. A little more than a +year has elapsed since the first edition of our record made its +appearance from the press. Meanwhile I have looked behind the ranges. +Grand Lake has again borne me upon the bosom of her broad, deep waters +into the great lonely wilderness that lured Hubbard to his death. +</P> + +<P> +It was a day in June last year that found me again at the point where +some inexplicable fate had led Hubbard and me to pass unexplored the +bay that here extends northward to receive the Nascaupee River, along +which lay the trail for which we were searching, and induced us to +take, instead, that other course that carried us into the dreadful +Susan Valley. How vividly I saw it all again—Hubbard resting on his +paddle, and then rising up for a better view, as he said, "Oh, that's +just a bay and it isn't worth while to take time to explore it. The +river comes in up here at the end of the lake. They all said it was at +the end of the lake." And we said, "Yes, it is at the end of the lake; +they all said so," and went on, for that was before we knew—Hubbard +never knew. A perceptible current, a questioning word, the turn of a +paddle would have set us right. No current was noticed, no word was +spoken, and the paddle sent us straight toward those blue hills yonder, +where Suffering and Starvation and Death were hidden and waiting for +us. How little we expected to meet these grim strangers then. That +July day came back to me as if it had been but the day before. I +believe I never missed Hubbard so much as at that moment. I never felt +his loss so keenly as then. An almost irresistible impulse seized me +to go on into our old trail and hurry to the camp where we had left him +that stormy October day and find if he were not after all still there +and waiting for me to come back to him. +</P> + +<P> +Reluctantly I thrust the impulse aside. Armed with the experience +gained upon the former expedition, and information gleaned from the +Indians, I turned into the northern trail, through the valley of the +Nascaupee, and began a journey that carried me eight hundred miles to +the storm-swept shores of Ungava Bay, and two thousand miles with dog +sledge over endless reaches of ice and snow. +</P> + +<P> +While I struggled northward with new companions, Hubbard was always +with me to inspire and urge me on. Often and often at night as I sat, +disheartened and alone, by the camp-fire while the rain beat down and +the wind soughed drearily through the firtops, he would come and sit by +me as of old, and as of old I would hear his gentle voice and his words +of encouragement. Then I would go to my blankets with new courage, +resolved to fight the battle to the end. +</P> + +<P> +One day our camp was pitched upon the shores of Lake Michikamau, and as +I looked for the first time upon the waters of the lake which Hubbard +had so longed to reach, I lived over again that day when he returned +from his climb to the summit of the great grey mountain which now bears +his name, with the joyful news that there just behind the ridge lay +Michikamau; then the weary wind-bound days that followed and the race +down the trail with all its horrors; our kiss and embrace; and my final +glimpse of the little white tent in which he lay. +</P> + +<P> +And so with the remembrance of his example as an inspiration the work +was finished by me, the survivor, but to Hubbard and to his memory +belong the credit and the honour, for it was only through my training +with him and this inspiration received from him that I was able to +carry to successful completion what he had so well planned. +</P> + +<P> +My publishers inform me that five editions of our story have found +their way into the hearts and homes of those who cannot visit the great +northern wilds, but who love to hear about them. I shall avail myself +of this opportunity to thank these readers for the kindly manner in +which they have received the book. This reception of it has been +especially gratifying to me because of the lack of confidence I had in +my ability to tell the story of Hubbard's life and glorious death as I +felt it should be told. +</P> + +<P> +The writing of the story was a work of love. I wished not only to +fulfil my last promise to my friend to write the narrative of his +expedition, but I wished also to create a sort of memorial to him. I +wanted the world to know Hubbard as he was, his noble character, his +devotion to duty, and his faith, so strong that not even the severe +hardships he endured in the desolate north, ending only with death, +could make him for a moment forget the simple truths that he learned +from his mother on the farm in old Michigan. I wanted the young men to +know these things, for they could not fail to be the better for having +learned them; and I wanted the mothers to know what men mothers can +make of their sons. +</P> + +<P> +An unknown friend writes me, "To dare and die so divinely and leave +such a record is to be transfigured on a mountain top, a master symbol +to all men of cloud-robed human victory, angel-attended by reverence +and peace...a gospel of nobleness and faith." And another, "How truly +'God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.' Mr. Hubbard +went to find Lake Michikamau; he failed, but God spelled 'Success' of +'Failure,' and you brought back a message which should be an +inspiration to every soul to whom it comes. The life given up in the +wilds of Labrador was not in vain." Space will not permit me to quote +further from the many letters of this kind that have come to me from +all over the United States and Canada, but they tell me that others +have learned to know Hubbard as he was and as his friends knew him, and +that our book has not failed of its purpose. +</P> + +<P> +The storms of two winters have held in their icy grasp the bleak land +in which he yielded up his life for a principle, and the flowers of two +summers have blossomed upon his grave, overlooking the Hudson. But it +was only his body that we buried there. His spirit still lives, for +his was a spirit too big and noble to be bound by the narrow confines +of a grave. His life is an example of religious faith, strong +principle, and daring bravery that will not be forgotten by the young +men of our land. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + New York, June 1, 1906. D. W.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PREFACE TO ELEVENTH EDITION +</H3> + +<P> +As the eleventh edition of this book goes to press, the opportunity is +given for a brief prefatory description of a pilgrimage to Hubbard's +death-place in the Labrador Wilderness from which I have just returned. +</P> + +<P> +For many years it had been my wish to re-visit the scene of those +tragic experiences, and to permanently and appropriately mark the spot +where Hubbard so heroically gave up his life a decade ago. Judge +William J. Malone, of Bristol, Connecticut, one of the many men who +have received inspiration from Hubbard's noble example, was my +companion, and at Northwest River we were joined by Gilbert Blake, who +was a member of the party of four trappers who rescued me in 1903. We +carried with us a beautiful bronze tablet, which was designed to be +placed upon the boulder before which Hubbard's tent was pitched when he +died. Wrapped with the tablet was a little silk flag and Hubbard's +college pennant, lovingly contributed by his sister, Mrs. Arthur C. +Williams, of Detroit, Michigan. These were to be draped upon the +tablet when erected and left with it in the wilderness. Our plan was +to ascend and explore the lower Beaver River to the point where Hubbard +discovered it, and where, in 1903, we abandoned our canoe to re-cross +to the Susan River Valley a few days before his death. Here it was our +expectation to follow the old Hubbard portage trail to Goose Creek and +thence down Goose Creek to the Susan River. +</P> + +<P> +Of our journey up the Beaver River suffice it to say that we met with +many adventures, but proceeded without serious accident until one day +our canoe was submerged in heavy rapids, the lashings gave way, and to +our consternation the precious tablet, together with the flag and +pennant, was lost in the flood. After two days' vain effort to recover +the tablet and flags we continued on the river until at length further +ascent seemed unpractical. From this point, with packs on our backs, +we made a difficult foot journey of several days to the Susan River +valley. +</P> + +<P> +I shall not attempt to describe my feelings when at last we came into +the valley where Hubbard died and where we had suffered so much. Man +changes with the fleeting years and a civilized world changes, but the +untrod wilderness never changes. Before us lay the same rushing river +I remembered so well, the same starved forest of spruce with its +pungent odor, and there was the clump of spruce trees in which our last +camp was pitched just as I had seen it last. Malone and Blake remained +by the river bank while I approached alone what to me was sacred +ground. Time fell away, and I believe that I expected, when I stepped +beside the boulder before which his tent was pitched when we said our +last farewell on that dismal October morning ten years ago, to hear +Hubbard's voice welcome me as of old. The charred wood of his camp +fire might, from all appearances, have but just grown cold. The +boughs, which I had broken and arranged for his couch, and upon which +he slept and died, were withered but undisturbed, and I could identify +exactly the spot where he lay. There were his worn old moccasins, and +one of the leather mittens, which, in his last entry in his diary he +said he might eat if need be. Near the dead fire were some spoons and +other small articles, as we had left them, and scattered about were +remnants of our tent. +</P> + +<P> +Lovingly we put ourselves to our task. Judge Malone, with a brush +improvised from Blake's stiff hair, and with white lead intended for +canoe repairs, lettered upon the boulder this inscription: +</P> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> + Leonidas Hubbard, Jr.,<BR> + Intrepid Explorer<BR> + And<BR> + Practical Christian<BR> + Died Here<BR> + Oct. 18, 1903.<BR> + "Whither I go ye know,<BR> + and the way ye know."<BR> + John XIV.—4.<BR> +</H4> + +<P> +Then with hammer and chisel I cut the inscription deep into the rock, +and we filled the letters with white lead to counteract the effect of +the elements. +</P> + +<P> +It was dark when the work was finished, and by candlelight, beneath the +stars, I read, from the same Testament I used in 1903, the fourteenth +of John and the thirteenth of First Corinthians, the chapters which I +read to Hubbard on the morning of our parting. Judge Malone read the +Fiftieth Psalm. We sang some hymns and then knelt about the withered +couch of boughs, each of us three with the feeling that Hubbard was +very close to us. +</P> + +<P> +In early morning we shouldered our packs again, and with a final look +at Hubbard's last camp, turned back to the valley of the Beaver and new +adventures. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + DILLON WALLACE.<BR> +<BR> +Beacon-on-the-Hudson, November eighteenth, 1913. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">The Object of the Expedition</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">Off at Last</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">On the Edge of the Wilderness</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">The Plunge into the Wild</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">Still in the Awful Valley</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">Searching for a Trail</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">On a Real River at Last</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">"Michikamau or Bust!"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">And There was Michikamau!</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">Prisoners of the Wind</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">We Give It Up</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">The Beginning of the Retreat</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">Hubbard's Grit</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">Back Through the Ranges</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">George's Dream</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">At the Last Camp</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">The Parting</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">Wandering Alone</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">The Kindness of the Breeds</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">How Hubbard Went to Sleep</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">From Out the Wild</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">A Strange Funeral Procession</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">Over the Ice</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">Hubbard's Message</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Acknowledgment is due Mr. Frank Barkley Copley, a personal and +literary friend of Mr. Hubbard, for assistance rendered in the +preparation of this volume. +<BR><BR> +D. W. +<BR> +New York, January, 1905. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR WILD +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I. THE OBJECT OF THE EXPEDITION +</H3> + +<P> +"How would you like to go to Labrador, Wallace?" It was a snowy night +in late November, 1901, that my friend, Leonidas Hubbard, Jr., asked me +this question. All day he and I had been tramping through the snow +among the Shawangunk Mountains in southern New York, and when the +shades of evening fell we had built a lean-to of boughs to shelter us +from the storm. Now that we had eaten our supper of bread and bacon, +washed down with tea, we lay before our roaring campfire, luxuriating +in its glow and warmth. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard's question was put to me so abruptly that it rather startled me. +</P> + +<P> +"Labrador!" I exclaimed. "Now where in the world is Labrador?" +</P> + +<P> +Of course I knew it was somewhere in the north-eastern part of the +continent; but so many years had passed since I laid away my old school +geography that its exact situation had escaped my memory, and the only +other knowledge I had retained of the country was a confused sense of +its being a sort of Arctic wilderness. Hubbard proceeded to enlighten +me, by tracing with his pencil, on the fly-leaf of his notebook, an +outline map of the peninsula. +</P> + +<P> +"Very interesting," I commented. "But why do you wish to go there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Man," he replied, "don't you realise it's about the only part of the +continent that hasn't been explored? As a matter of fact, there isn't +much more known of the interior of Labrador now than when Cabot +discovered the coast more than four hundred years ago." He jumped up to +throw more wood on the fire. "Think of it, Wallace!" he went on, "A +great unknown land right near home, as wild and primitive to-day as it +has always been! I want to see it. I want to get into a really wild +country and have some of the experiences of the old fellows who +explored and opened up the country where we are now." +</P> + +<P> +Resuming his place by the blazing logs, Hubbard unfolded to me his +plan, then vague and in the rough, of exploring a part of the unknown +eastern end of the peninsula. Of trips such as this he had been +dreaming since childhood. When a mere boy on his father's farm in +Michigan, he had lain for hours out under the trees in the orchard +poring over a map of Canada and making imaginary journeys into the +unexplored. Boone and Crockett were his heroes, and sometimes he was +so affected by the tales of their adventures that he must needs himself +steal away to the woods and camp out for two or three days. +</P> + +<P> +It was at this period that he resolved to head some day an exploring +expedition of his own, and this resolution he forgot neither while a +student nor while serving as a newspaper man in Detroit and New York. +At length, through a connection he made with a magazine devoted to +out-of-door life, he was able to make several long trips into the wild. +Among other places, he visited the Hudson Bay region, and once +penetrated to the winter hunting ground of the Mountaineer Indians, +north of Lake St. John, in southern Labrador. These trips, however, +failed to satisfy him; his ambition was to reach a region where no +white man had preceded him. Now, at the age of twenty-nine, he believed +that his ambition was about to be realised. +</P> + +<P> +"It's always the way, Wallace," he said; "when a fellow starts on a +long trail, he's never willing to quit. It'll be the same with you if +you go with me to Labrador. You'll say each trip will be the last, but +when you come home you'll hear the voice of the wilderness calling you +to return, and it will lure you away again and again. I thought my +Lake St. John trip was something, but while there I stood at the +portals of the unknown, and it brought back stronger than ever the old +longing to make discoveries, so that now the walls of the city seem to +me a prison and I simply must get away." +</P> + +<P> +My friend's enthusiasm was contagious. It had never previously +occurred to me to undertake the game of exploration; but, like most +American boys, I had had youthful dreams of going into a great wild +country, even as my forefathers had gone, and Hubbard's talk brought +back the old juvenile love of adventure. That night before we lay down +to sleep I said: "Hubbard, I'll go with you." And so the thing was +settled—that was how Hubbard's expedition had its birth. +</P> + +<P> +More than a year passed, however, before Hubbard was able to make +definite arrangements to get away. I believe it was in February, 1903, +that the telephone bell in my law office rang, and Hubbard's voice at +the other end of the wire conveyed to me the information that he had +"bully news." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that so?" I said. "What's up? +</P> + +<P> +"The Labrador trip is all fixed for this summer," was the excited +reply. "Come out to Congers to-night without fail, and we'll talk it +over." +</P> + +<P> +In accordance with his invitation, I went out that evening to visit my +friend in his suburban home. I shall never forget the exuberance of +his joy. You would have thought he was a boy about to be released from +school. By this time he had become the associate editor of the +magazine for which he had been writing, but he had finally been able to +induce his employers to consent to the project upon which he had set +his heart and grant him a leave of absence. +</P> + +<P> +"It will be a big thing, Wallace," he said in closing; "it ought to +make my reputation." +</P> + +<P> +Into the project of penetrating the vast solitudes of desolate +Labrador, over which still brooded the fascinating twilight of the +mysterious unknown, Hubbard, with characteristic zeal, threw his whole +heart and soul. Systematically and thoroughly he went about planning, +in the minutest detail, our outfit and entire journey. Every possible +contingency received the most careful consideration. +</P> + +<P> +In order to make plain just what he hoped to accomplish and the +conditions against which he had to provide, the reader's patience is +asked for a few minutes while something is told of what was known of +Labrador at the time Hubbard was making preparations for his expedition. +</P> + +<P> +The interior of the peninsula of Labrador is a rolling plateau, the +land rising more or less abruptly from the coast to a height of two +thousand or more feet above the level of the sea. Scattered over this +plateau are numerous lakes and marshes. The rivers and streams +discharging the waters of the lakes into the sea flow to the four +points of the compass—into the Atlantic and its inlets on the east, +into Ungava Bay on the north, Hudson Bay and James Bay on the west, and +the Gulf of St. Lawrence on the south. Owing to the abrupt rise of the +land from the coast these rivers and streams are very swift and are +filled with a constant succession of falls and rapids; consequently, +their navigation in canoes—the only possible way, generally speaking, +to navigate them—is most difficult and dangerous. In this, to a large +extent, lies the explanation as to why only a few daring white men have +ever penetrated to the interior plateau; the condition of the rivers, +if nothing else, makes it impossible to transport sufficient food to +sustain a party for any considerable period, and it is absolutely +necessary to run the risk of obtaining supplies from a country that may +be plentiful with game one year and destitute of it the next, and in +which the vegetation is the scantiest. +</P> + +<P> +The western part of the peninsula, although it, too, contains vast +tracts in which no white man has set foot, is somewhat better known +than the eastern, most of the rivers that flow into Hudson and James +Bays having been explored and correctly mapped. Hubbard's objective +was the eastern and northern part of the peninsula, and it is with this +section that we shall hereafter deal. Such parts of this territory as +might be called settled lie in the region of Hamilton Inlet and along +the coast. +</P> + +<P> +Hamilton Inlet is an arm of the Atlantic extending inland about one +hundred and fifty miles in a southwesterly direction. At its entrance, +which is two hundred miles north of Cape Charles, the inlet is some +forty miles wide. Fifty miles inland from the settlement of Indian +Harbour (which is situated on one of the White Bear Islands, near the +north coast of the inlet at its entrance), is the Rigolet Post of the +Hudson's Bay Company—the "Old Company," as its agents love to call +it—and here the inlet narrows down to a mere channel; but during the +next eighty miles of its course inland it again widens, this section of +it being known as Groswater Bay or Lake Melville. +</P> + +<P> +The extreme western end of the inlet is called Goose Bay. Into this +bay flows the Grand or Hamilton River, one of the largest in Labrador. +From its source among the lakes on the interior plateau, the Grand +River first sweeps down in a southeasterly direction and then bends +northeasterly to reach the end of Hamilton Inlet. The tributaries of +the lakes forming the headwaters of the Grand River connect it +indirectly with Lake Michikamau (Big Water). This, the largest lake in +eastern Labrador, is between eighty and ninety miles in length, with a +width varying from six to twenty-five miles. +</P> + +<P> +The Grand River, as well as a portion of Lake Michikamau, some years +ago was explored and correctly mapped; but the other rivers that flow +to the eastward have either been mapped only from hearsay or not at +all. Of the several rivers flowing into Ungava Bay, the Koksoak alone +has been explored. This river, which is the largest of those flowing +north, rises in lakes to the westward of Lake Michikamau. Next to the +Koksoak, the George is the best known of the rivers emptying into +Ungava Bay, as well as the second largest; but while it has been +learned that its source is among the lakes to the northward of +Michikamau, it has been mapped only from hearsay. +</P> + +<P> +Now if the reader will turn to the accompanying map of Labrador made by +Mr. A. P. Low of the Canadian Geological Survey, he will see that the +body of water known as Grand Lake is represented thereon merely as the +widening out of a large river, called the Northwest, which flows from +Lake Michikamau to Groswater Bay or Hamilton Inlet, after being joined +about twenty miles above Grand Lake by a river called the Nascaupee. +Relying upon this map, Hubbard planned to reach early in the summer the +Northwest River Post of the Hudson's Bay Company, which is situated at +the mouth of the Northwest River, ascend the river to Lake Michikamau, +and then, from the northern end of that lake, beat across the country +to the George River. +</P> + +<P> +The Geological Survey map is the best of Labrador extant, but its +representation as to the Northwest River (made from hearsay) proved to +be wholly incorrect, and the mistake it led us into cost us dear. +After the rescue, I thoroughly explored Grand Lake, and, as will be +seen from my map, I discovered that no less than five rivers flow into +it, which are known to the natives as the Nascaupee, the Beaver, the +Susan, the Crooked, and the Cape Corbeau. The Nascaupee is the +largest, and as the inquiries I made among the Indians satisfied me +that it is the outlet of Lake Michikamau, it is undoubtedly the river +that figures on the Geological Survey map as the Northwest, while as +for the river called on the map the Nascaupee, it is in all likelihood +non-existent. There is a stream known to the natives as Northwest +River, but it is merely the strait, one hundred yards wide and three +hundred yards long, which, as shown on my map, connects Groswater Bay +with what the natives call the Little Lake, this being the small body +of water that lies at the lower end of Grand Lake, the waters of which +it receives through a rapid. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard hoped to reach the George River in season to meet the Nenenot +or Nascaupee Indians, who, according to an old tradition, gather on its +banks in late August or early September to attack with spears the herds +of caribou that migrate at that time, passing eastward to the sea +coast. It is reported that while the caribou are swimming the river +the Indians each year kill great numbers of them, drying the flesh for +winter provisions and using the skins to make clothing and +wigwam-covering. Hubbard wished not only to get a good story of the +yearly slaughter, but to spend some little time studying the habits of +the Indians, who are the most primitive on the North American continent. +</P> + +<P> +Strange as it may seem to some, the temperature in the interior of +Labrador in midsummer sometimes rises as high as 90 degrees or more, +although at sunset it almost invariably drops to near the freezing +point and frost is liable at any time. But the summer, of course, is +very short. It may be said to begin early in July, by which time the +snow and ice are all gone, and to end late in August. There is just a +hint of spring and autumn. Winter glides into summer, and summer into +winter, almost imperceptibly, and the winter is the bitter winter of +the Arctic. +</P> + +<P> +If the season were not too far advanced when he finished studying the +Indians, Hubbard expected to cross the country to the St. Lawrence and +civilisation; otherwise to retrace his steps over his upward trail. In +the event of our failure to discover the Indian encampment, and our +finding ourselves on the George short of provisions, Hubbard planned to +run down the swift-flowing river in our canoe to the George River Post +at its mouth, and there procure passage on some fishing vessel for +Newfoundland; or, if that were impossible, to outfit for winter, and +when the ice formed and the snow came, return overland with dogs. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard knew that by ascending the Grand River he would be taking a +surer, if longer, route to Lake Michikamau; but it was a part of his +project to explore the unknown country along the river mapped as the +Northwest. I have called this country unknown. It is true that in the +winter of 1838 John McLean, then the agent of the Hudson's Bay Company +at Fort Chimo, a post situated on the Koksoak River about twenty miles +above its mouth, passed through a portion of this country in the course +of a journey he made with dogs from his post to Northwest River Post. +His route was up the Koksoak and across country to the northern end of +Lake Michikamau, which he followed for some little distance. After +leaving the lake he again travelled eastward across country until at +length he came upon the "Northwest" or Nascaupee River at a point +probably not far above Grand Lake, from which it was easy travelling +over the ice to the post. The record left by him of the journey, +however, is very incomplete, and the exact route he took is by no means +certain. +</P> + +<P> +Whatever route it was, he returned over it the same winter to Fort +Chimo. His sufferings during this trip were extreme. He and his party +had to eat their dogs to save themselves from starvation, and even then +they would surely all have perished had it not been for an Indian who +left the party fifty miles out of Chimo and fortunately had strength +enough to reach the post and send back relief. Later McLean made +several summer trips with a canoe up the George River from Ungava Bay +and down the Grand River to Hamilton Inlet; but never again did he +attempt to penetrate the country lying between Lake Michikamau and +Hamilton Inlet to the north of Grand River. The fact was that he found +his Grand River trips bad enough; the record he has left of them is a +story of a continuous struggle against heartbreaking hardships and of +narrow escapes from starvation. +</P> + +<P> +It is asserted that a priest once crossed with the Indians from +Northwest River Post to Ungava Bay by the Nascaupee route; but the +result of my inquiries in Labrador convinced me that the priest in +question travelled by way of the Grand River, making it certain that +previous to Hubbard's expedition no white man other than McLean had +ever crossed the wilderness between Hamilton Inlet and Lake Michikamau +by any route other than the aforesaid Grand River. As has been pointed +out, McLean made but a very incomplete record of his journey that took +him through the country north of the Grand River, so that Hubbard's +project called for his plunge into a region where no footsteps would be +found to guide him. Not only this, but the George River country, which +it was his ultimate purpose to reach, was, and still remains, terra +incognita; for although McLean made several trips up and down this +river, he neither mapped it nor left any definite descriptions +concerning it. +</P> + +<P> +Here, then, was an enterprise fully worthy of an ambitious and +venturesome spirit like Hubbard. Here was a great, unknown wilderness +into which even the half-breed native trappers who lived on its +outskirts were afraid to penetrate, knowing that the wandering bands of +Indians who occasionally traversed its fastnesses themselves frequently +starved to death in that inhospitable, barren country. There was +danger to be faced and good "copy" to be obtained. +</P> + +<P> +And so it was ho for the land of "bared boughs and grieving winds"! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II. OFF AT LAST +</H3> + +<P> +Labrador's uncertain game supply presented more than one vexed problem +for Hubbard to solve. Naturally it would be desirable to take with us +sufficient provisions to guard against all contingencies; but such were +the conditions of the country for which we were bound, that if the +expedition were at all heavily loaded it would be impossible for it to +make any headway. Hubbard, therefore, decided to travel light. Then +arose the question as to how many men to take with us. If the party +were large—that is, up to a certain limit—more food might possibly be +carried for each member than if the party were small; but if game +proved plentiful, there would be no danger from starvation whether the +party were large or small; for then short stops could be made to kill +animals, dry the flesh and make caches, after the manner of the +Indians, as supply bases to fall back upon should we be overtaken by an +early winter. And if the game should prove scarce, a small party could +kill, on a forced march, nearly, if not quite, as much as a large +party; and requiring a proportionately smaller amount of food to +maintain it, would consequently have a better chance of success. Taking +all things into consideration, Hubbard decided that the party should be +small. +</P> + +<P> +To guard against possible disappointment in the way of getting men, +Hubbard wrote to the agent of the Hudson's Bay Company at Rigolet, +asking whether any could be obtained for a trip into the interior +either at that post or at Northwest River. The agent replied that such +a thing was highly improbable, as the visits of the Indians to these +posts had become infrequent and the other natives were afraid to +venture far inland. Hubbard then engaged through the kind offices of +Mr. S. A. King, who was in charge of the Hudson's Bay Company Post at +Missanabie, Ontario, the services of a Cree Indian named Jerry, that we +might have at least one man upon whom we could depend. Jerry was to +have come on to New York City to meet us. At next to the last moment, +however, a letter from Mr. King informed us that Jerry had backed down. +The Indian was not afraid of Labrador, it appeared, but he had heard of +the dangers and pitfalls of New York, and when he learned that he +should have to pass through that city, his courage failed him; he +positively refused to come, saying he did not "want to die so soon." +</P> + +<P> +We never had occasion to regret Jerry's faint-heartedness. Mr. King +engaged for us another man who, he wrote, was an expert canoeman and +woodsman and a good cook. The man proved to be all that he was +represented to be—and more. I do not believe that in all the north +country we could have found a better woodsman. But he was something +more than a woodsman—he was a hero. Under the most trying +circumstances he was calm, cheerful, companionable, faithful. Not only +did he turn out to be a man of intelligence, quick of perception and +resourceful, but he turned out to be a man of character, and I am proud +to introduce him to the reader as my friend George Elson, a half-breed +Cree Indian from down on James Bay. +</P> + +<P> +The first instance of George's resourcefulness that we noted occurred +upon his arrival in New York. Hubbard and I were to have taken him in +charge at the Grand Central Station, but we were detained and George +found no one to meet him. Despite the fact that he had never been in a +city before, and all was new to him, his quick eye discovered that the +long line of cabs in front of the station were there to hire. He +promptly engaged one, was driven to Hubbard's office and awaited his +employer's arrival as calm and unruffled as though his surroundings +were perfectly familiar. +</P> + +<P> +Our canoe and our entire outfit were purchased in New York, with the +exception of a gill net, which, alas! we decided to defer selecting +until we reached Labrador. Our preparations for the expedition were +made with a view of sailing from St. Johns, Newfoundland, for Rigolet, +when the steamer Virginia Lake, which regularly plies during the summer +between the former port and points on the Labrador coast, should make +her first trip north of the year. A letter from the Reid-Newfoundland +Company, which operates the steamer, informed us that she would +probably make her first trip to Labrador in the last week in June, and +in order to connect with her, we made arrangements to sail from New +York to St. Johns on June 20th, 1903, on the Red Cross Line steamer +Silvia. On the 19th Hubbard personally superintended the placing of +our outfit on board ship, that nothing might be overlooked. +</P> + +<P> +As the Silvia slowly got under way at ten o'clock the next morning, we +waved a last farewell to the little knot of friends who had gathered on +the Brooklyn pier to see us off. We were all very light-hearted and +gay that morning; it was a relief to be off at last and have the worry +of the preparation over. Mrs. Hubbard was a member of the party; she +was to accompany her husband as far as Battle Harbour, the first point +on the Labrador coast touched by the Virginia Lake. +</P> + +<P> +June 24th was my birthday, and early that morning, before we sailed +from Halifax, at which port we lay over for a day, Hubbard came into my +stateroom with a pair of camp blankets that he had been commissioned by +my sisters to present to me. He had told me he had enough blankets in +his outfit and to take none with me. How strangely things sometimes +turn out! Those blankets which Hubbard had withheld in order that I +might be agreeably surprised, were destined to fulfil an office, up +there in the wilds for which we were bound, such as we little +suspected. We reached St. Johns on the morning of Friday, the 26th, +and promptly upon our arrival were introduced to the mysterious ways of +the Reid-Newfoundland Company. The Virginia Lake, we were told, already +had gone north to Labrador, was overdue on her return trip and might +not be in for several days. Hubbard, however, set immediately to work +purchasing the provisions for his expedition and supervising their +packing. The following day, on the advice of the general passenger +agent of the Reid-Newfoundland Company, we took the evening train on +their little narrow-gauge railroad to Whitbourne, en route to Broad +Cove, where we were informed we should find excellent trout fishing and +could pleasantly pass the time while awaiting the steamer. +</P> + +<P> +The Reid-Newfoundland Company failed to carry out its agreement as to +our transportation to Broad Cove, and we had considerable trouble in +reaching there, but we found that no misrepresentation had been made as +to the fishing; during the two days we were at Broad Cove we caught all +the trout we cared for. Having received word that the Virginia Lake +had returned to St. Johns, and would again sail north on Tuesday, June +30th, Hubbard and Mrs. Hubbard on the morning of that day took the +train to St. Johns, to board the steamer there and see that nothing of +our outfit was left behind. George and I broke camp in time to take the +evening train on the branch road to Harbour Grace, where, it was +agreed, we should rejoin the others, the steamer being scheduled to put +in there on its way north. +</P> + +<P> +When I had our camp baggage transferred next morning to the wharf, and +George and I had arrived there ourselves, we found also waiting for the +steamer several prospectors who were going to "The Labrador," as the +country is known to the Newfoundlanders, to look for gold, copper, and +mica. All of them apparently were dreaming of fabulous wealth. None, +I was told, was going farther than the lower coast; they did not +attempt to disguise the fact that they feared to venture far into the +interior. +</P> + +<P> +Around the wharves little boats were unloading caplin, a small fish +about the size of a smelt. I was informed that these fish sold for ten +cents a barrel, and were used for bait and fertiliser. My astonishment +may be imagined, therefore, when I discovered that on the Virginia Lake +they charged thirty-five cents for three of these little fish fried. +</P> + +<P> +At ten o'clock our boat came in, and a little after noon we steamed out +of the harbour, Hubbard and I feeling that now we were fairly on our +way to the scene of our work. Soon after rejoining Hubbard, I learned +something more of the mysterious ways of the Reid-Newfoundland Company. +The company's general passenger agent, avowing deep interest in our +enterprise, had presented Hubbard with passes to Rigolet for his party. +Hubbard accepted them gratefully, but upon boarding the steamer he was +informed that the passes did not include meals. Now such were the +prices charged for the wretchedly-cooked food served on the Virginia +Lake that a moderately hungry man could scarcely have his appetite +killed at a less expense than six dollars a day. So Hubbard returned +the passes to the general passenger agent with thanks, and purchased +tickets, which did include meals, and which reduced the cost +considerably. +</P> + +<P> +The Virginia Lake is a steamer of some seven hundred tons burden. She +is subsidised by the Newfoundland Government to carry the mails during +the fishing season to points on the Labrador coast as far north as +Nain. She is also one of the sealing fleet that goes to "the ice" each +tenth of March. When she brings back her cargo of seals to St. Johns, +she takes up her summer work of carrying mail, passengers, and freight +to The Labrador—always a welcome visitor to the exiled fishermen in +that lonely land, the one link that binds them to home and the outside +world. She has on board a physician to set broken bones and deal out +drugs to the sick, and a customs officer to see that not a dime's worth +of merchandise of any kind or nature is landed until a good round +percentage of duty is paid to him as the representative of the +Newfoundland Government, which holds dominion over all the east coast +of Labrador. This customs officer is also a magistrate, a secret +service officer, a constable, and what not I do not know—pretty much +the whole Labrador Government, I imagine. +</P> + +<P> +The accommodations on the Virginia Lake were quite inadequate for the +number of passengers she carried. The stuffy little saloon was so +crowded that comfort was out of the question. I had to use some rather +impressive language to the steward to induce him to assign to me a +stateroom. Finally, he surrendered his own room. The ventilation was +poor and the atmosphere vile, but we managed to pull through. Our +fellow-passengers were all either prospectors or owners of fishing +schooners. +</P> + +<P> +There was much ice to be seen when the heavy veil of grey fog lifted +sufficiently for us to see anything, and until we had crossed the +Strait of Belle Isle our passage was a rough one. It was on the Fourth +of July that we saw for the first time the bleak, rock-bound coast of +Labrador. In all the earth there is no coast so barren, so desolate, +so brutally inhospitable as the Labrador coast from Cape Charles, at +the Strait of Belle Isle on the south, to Cape Chidley on the north. +Along these eight hundred miles it is a constant succession of bare +rocks scoured clean and smooth by the ice and storms of centuries, with +not a green thing to be seen, save now and then a bunch of stunted +shrubs that have found a foothold in some sheltered nook in the rocks, +and perchance, on some distant hill, a glimpse of struggling spruce or +fir trees. It is a fog-ridden, dangerous coast, with never a +lighthouse or signal of any kind at any point in its entire length to +warn or guide the mariner. +</P> + +<P> +The evening was well upon us when we saw the rocks off Cape Charles +rising from the water, dismal, and dark, and forbidding. All day the +rain had been falling, and all day the wind had been blowing a gale, +lashing the sea into a fury. Our little ship was tossed about like a +cork, with the seas constantly breaking over her decks. Decidedly our +introduction to Labrador was not auspicious. Battle Harbour, twelve +miles north of Cape Charles, was to have been our first stop; but there +are treacherous hidden reefs at the entrance, and with that sea the +captain did not care to trust his ship near them. So he ran on to +Spear Harbour, just beyond, where we lay to for the night. The next +day I made the following entry in my diary: +</P> + +<P> +"Early this morning we moved down to Battle Harbour, where Mrs. Hubbard +left us to return home. It was a most dismal time and place for her to +part from her husband, but she was very brave. It was not yet six +o'clock, and we had had no breakfast, when she stepped into the small +boat to go ashore. A cold, drizzling rain was falling, and the place +was in appearance particularly dreary; no foliage nor green thing to be +seen—nothing but rocks, cold and high and bleak, with here and there +patches of snow. They pointed out to us a little house clinging to the +rocks high up. There she is to stay until the steamer comes to take +her home, to spend a summer of doubts and hopes and misgivings. Poor +little woman! It is so hard for those we leave behind. I stood aside +with a big lump in my throat as they said their farewell." Up there in +the dark wilderness for which we were bound Hubbard talked with me +frequently of that parting. +</P> + +<P> +On July 6th, the day after we left Battle Harbour, the captain informed +us for the first time that the boat would not go to Rigolet on the way +up, and gave us the option of getting off at Indian Harbour at the +entrance to Hamilton Inlet or going on to Nain with him and getting off +at Rigolet on the way back. Hubbard chose the former alternative, +hearing which the customs officer came to us and hinted that nothing +could be landed until we had had an interview with him. The result of +the interview was that Hubbard paid duty on our entire outfit. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning, Tuesday, July 7th, we reached Indian Harbour. Amid a +chorus of "Good-bye, boys, and good luck!" we went ashore, to set foot +for the first time on Labrador soil, where we were destined to +encounter a series of misadventures that should call for the exercise +of all our fortitude and manhood. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS +</H3> + +<P> +The island of the White Bear group upon which is situated the +settlement of Indian Harbour is rocky and barren. The settlement +consists of a trader's hut and a few fishermen's huts built of frame +plastered over with earth or moss, and the buildings of the Royal +National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, a non-sectarian institution +that maintains two stations on the Labrador coast and one at St. +Anthony in Newfoundland, each with a hospital attached. The work of the +mission is under the general supervision of Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell, +who, in summer, patrols the coast from Newfoundland to Cape Chidley in +the little floating hospital, the steamer Strathcona, and during the +winter months, by dog team, visits the people of these inhospitable +shores. The main station in Labrador is at Battle Harbour, and at this +time Dr. Cluny Macpherson was the resident physician. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Simpson, a young English physician and lay missionary, was in +charge of the station at Indian Harbour. This station, being +maintained primarily for the benefit of the summer fishermen from +Newfoundland, is closed from October until July. Dr. Simpson had a +little steamer, the Julia Sheridan, which carried him on his visits to +his patients among the coast folk. We were told by the captain of the +Virginia Lake that the Julia Sheridan would arrive at Indian Harbour on +the afternoon of the day we reached there; that she would immediately +steam to Rigolet and Northwest River with the mails, and that we +undoubtedly could arrange for a passage on her. This was the reason +that Hubbard elected to get off at Indian Harbour. +</P> + +<P> +The trained nurse, the cook, and the maid-of-all-work connected with +the Indian Harbour hospital ("sisters," they call them, although they +do not belong to any order) boarded the Virginia Lake at Battle Harbour +and went ashore with me in the ship's boat, when I landed with the +baggage. Hubbard and George went ashore in our canoe. A line of +Newfoundlanders and "livyeres" stood ready to greet us upon our +arrival. "Livyeres" is a contraction of live-heres, and is applied to +the people who live permanently on the coast. The coast people who +occasionally trade in a small way are known as "planters." In Hamilton +Inlet, west of Rigolet, all of the trappers and fishermen are called +planters. There the word livyere is never heard, it having originated +with with the Newfoundland fishermen, who do not go far into the inlet. +</P> + +<P> +The "sisters" who landed with us had difficulty in opening their +hospital, as the locks had become so rusted and corroded that the keys +would not turn. We offered our assistance, and after removing the +boards that had been nailed over the windows to protect them from the +winter storms, we found it necessary to take out a pane of glass in +order that Hubbard might unlatch a window, crawl through and take the +lock off the door. The sisters then told us that Dr. Simpson might not +arrive with the Julia Sheridan until the following day, and extended to +us the hospitality of the station, which we thankfully accepted, taking +up our temporary abode in one of the vacant wards of the hospital. +</P> + +<P> +Our first afternoon on Labrador soil we spent in assorting and packing +our outfit, while the Newfoundlanders and livyeres stood around and +admired our things, particularly the canoe, guns, and sheath-knives. +Their curiosity was insatiable; they inquired the cost of every +conceivable thing. +</P> + +<P> +The next afternoon (Wednesday) Dr. Simpson arrived on his steamer, and, +to our great disappointment, we learned that the Julia would not start +on the trip down the inlet until after the return of the Virginia Lake +from the north, which would probably be on Friday or Saturday. The +Labrador summer being woefully short, Hubbard felt that every hour was +precious, and he chafed under our enforced detention. We were +necessarily going into the interior wholly unprepared for winter +travel, and hence must complete our work and make our way out of the +wilderness before the rivers and lakes froze and canoe travel became +impossible. Hubbard felt the responsibility he had assumed, and could +imagine the difficulties that awaited us should his plans miscarry. +Accordingly, he began to look around immediately among the fishermen +and livyeres for someone with a small boat willing to take us down the +fifty miles to Rigolet. Finally, after much persuasion and an offer of +fifteen dollars, he induced a young livyere, Steve Newell by name, to +undertake the task. +</P> + +<P> +Steve was a characteristic livyere, shiftless and ambitionless. He +lived a few miles down the inlet with his widowed mother and his +younger brothers and sisters. For a week he would work hard and +conscientiously to support the family, and then take a month's rest. +We had happened upon him in one of his resting periods, but as soon as +Hubbard had pinned him down to an agreement he put in an immediate plea +for money. +</P> + +<P> +"I'se huntin' grub, sir," he begged. "I has t' hunt grub all th' time, +sir. Could 'un spare a dollar t' buy grub, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard gave him the dollar, and he forthwith proceeded to the trader's +hut to purchase flour and molasses, which, with fat salt pork, are the +great staples of the Labrador natives, although the coast livyeres +seldom can afford the latter dainty. While we were preparing to start, +Hubbard asked Steve what he generally did for a living. +</P> + +<P> +"I hunts in winter an' fishes in summer, sir," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you hunt? +</P> + +<P> +"Fur an' partridges, sir. I trades the fur for flour and molasses, +sir, an' us eats th' partridges." +</P> + +<P> +"What kind of fur do you find here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Foxes is about all, sir, an' them's scarce; only a chance one, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you catch enough fur to keep you in flour and molasses?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not always, sir. Sometimes us has only partridges t' eat, sir." +</P> + +<P> +We started at five o'clock in the evening in Steve's boat, the +Mayflower, a leaky little craft that kept one man pretty busy bailing +out the water. She carried one ragged sail, and Steve sculled and +steered with a rough oar about eighteen feet long. An hour after we +got under way a blanket of grey fog, thick and damp, enveloped us; but +so long are the Labrador summer days that there still was light to +guide us when at eleven o'clock Steve said: +</P> + +<P> +"Us better land yere, sir. I lives yere, an' 'tis a good spot t' stop +for th' night, sir." +</P> + +<P> +I wondered what sort of an establishment Steve maintained, and drawing +an inference from his personal appearance, I had misgivings as to its +cleanliness. However, anything seemed better than chilling fog, and +land we did—in a shallow cove where we bumped over a partly submerged +rock and manoeuvred with difficulty among others, that raised their +heads ominously above the water. As we approached, we made out through +the fog the dim outlines, close to the shore, of a hut partially +covered with sod. Our welcome was tumultuous—a combination of the +barking of dogs and the shrill screams of women demanding to know who +we were and what we wanted. There were two women, tall, scrawny, brown, +with hair flying at random. The younger one had a baby in her arms. +She was Steve's married sister. The other woman was his mother. Each +was loosely clad in a dirty calico gown. Behind them clustered a group +of dirty, half-clad children. +</P> + +<P> +Steve ushered us into the hut, which proved to have two rooms, the +larger about eight by ten feet. The roof was so low that none of us +could stand erect except in the centre, where it came to a peak. In the +outer room were two rough wooden benches, and on a rickety table a +dirty kerosene lamp without a chimney shed gloom rather than light. An +old stove, the sides of which were bolstered up with rocks, filled the +hut with smoke to the point of suffocation when a fire was started. +The floor and everything else in the room were innocent of soap and +water. +</P> + +<P> +George made coffee, which he passed around with hardtack to everybody. +Then all but Steve and our party retired to the inner room, one of the +women standing a loose door against the aperture. Steve curled up in an +old quilt on one of the benches, while Hubbard, George and I spread a +tarpaulin on the floor and rolled in our blankets upon it. +</P> + +<P> +We were up betimes the next morning after a fair night's sleep on the +floor. We again served hardtack and coffee to all, and at five o'clock +were once more on our way. A thick mantle of mist obscured the shore, +and Hubbard offered Steve a chart and compass. "Ain't got no learnin', +sir; I can't read, sir," said the young livyere. So Hubbard directed +the course in the mist while Steve steered. Later in the day the wind +freshened and blew the mist away, and at length developed into a gale. +Finally the sea rose so high that Steve thought it well to seek the +protection of a harbour, and we landed in a sheltered cove on one of +the numerous islands that strew Hamilton Inlet, where we then were—Big +Black Island, it is called. +</P> + +<P> +George had arisen that morning with a lame back, and when we reached +the island he could scarcely move. The place was so barren of timber +we could not find a stick long enough to act as a centre pole for our +tent, and it was useless to try to pitch it. However, the moss, being +thick and soft, made a comfortable bed, and after we had put a mustard +plaster on George's back to relieve his lumbago, we rolled him in two +of our blankets under the lee of a bush and let him sleep. Then, as +evening came on, Hubbard and I started for a stroll along the shore. +The sun was still high in the heavens, and the temperature mildly cool. +</P> + +<P> +A walk of a mile or so brought us to the cabin of one Joe Lloyd, a +livyere. Lloyd proved to be an intelligent old Englishman who had gone +to Labrador as a sailor lad on a fishing schooner to serve a +three-years' apprenticeship. He did not go home with his ship, and +year after year postponed his return, until at last he married an +Eskimo and bound himself fast to the cold rocks of Labrador, where he +will spend the remainder of his life, eking out a miserable existence, +a lonely exile from his native England. +</P> + +<P> +After he had greeted us, Lloyd asked: "Is all the world at peace, sir?" +He had heard of the Boer war, and was pleased when we told him that it +had ended in a victory for the British arms. His hunger for news +touched us deeply, and we told him all that we could recall of recent +affairs of public interest. I have said that his hunger for news +touched us. As a matter of fact, few things have impressed me as being +more pathetic than that old man's life up there on that isolated and +desolate island, where he spends most of his time wistfully longing to +hear something of the great world, and painfully recalling the pleasant +memories of his childhood's home and friends, and the green fields and +spring blossoms he never will know again. And Lloyd's story is the +story of perhaps the majority of the settlers on The Labrador. +</P> + +<P> +The old man had a fresh-caught salmon, and we bought it from him. We +then sat for a few minutes in his cabin. This was a miserable affair, +not exceeding eight by ten feet, and, like Steve's home, so low we +could not stand erect in it. The floor was paved with large, flat +stones, and the only vent for the smoke from the wretched fireplace was +a hole in the roof. Midway between the fire and the hole hung a trout +drying. In this room Lloyd and his Eskimo wife live out their life. +During our visit the wife sat there without uttering a word. Her +silence was characteristic; for, somewhat unlike our women, the women +of Labrador talk but little. +</P> + +<P> +When we had bidden Lloyd farewell, we carried the salmon we had +obtained from him back to camp, where Hubbard tried to plank it on a +bit of wreckage picked up on the shore. It fell into the fire, and +there was great excitement until, by our united efforts, we had rescued +it, and had seen part of it safely reposing in the frying pan, while +Steve set to work boiling the remainder in our kettle with slices of +bacon. As the gale continued to blow, it was decided that we should +remain in camp until early morning. Hubbard directed Steve to pull the +boat around to a place where it would be near the water at low tide. +He and I then threw down the tent, lay on it, pulled a blanket over us +and prepared for sleep. It was about eleven o'clock, and darkness was +just beginning to fall. Out in the bay a whale was blowing, and in the +distance big gulls were screaming. It was our first night out in the +open in Labrador, and all was new and entrancing; and as slumber +gradually enwrapped us, it seemed to us that we had fallen upon +pleasant times. +</P> + +<P> +At one o'clock (Friday morning) we awoke. By the light of the +brilliant moon we made coffee, called George and Steve and ate our +breakfast of cold salmon and hardtack. George's lumbago was very bad, +and he was unable to do any work. The rest of us portaged the outfit +two hundred yards to the boat, which, owing to Steve's miscalculations +as to the tide, we found high and dry on the rocks. Working in the +shallow water, with a cloud of mosquitoes around our heads, it took us +until 4.30 o'clock to launch her, by which time daylight long since had +returned. +</P> + +<P> +Once more afloat, we found that the wind had entirely died away, and +Steve's sculling pushed the boat along but slowly. Grampuses raised +their big backs everywhere, and seals, upon which they prey, were +numerous. The water was alive with schools of caplin. At eleven +o'clock we made Pompey Island, a mossy island of Laurentian rock about +thirty-five miles from Indian Harbour. Here we stopped for luncheon, +and after much looking around, succeeded in finding enough sticks to +build a little fire. I made flapjacks, and Hubbard melted sugar for +syrup. +</P> + +<P> +While we were eating, I discovered in the far distance the smoke of a +steamer. We supposed it to be the Julia Sheridan. Rushing our things +into the boat, we put off as quickly as possible to intercept her. We +fired three or four shots from our rifle, but got only a salute in +recognition. Then Hubbard and I scramble into the canoe, which we had +in tow, and began to paddle with might and main to head her off. As we +neared her, we fired again. At that she came about—it was the +Virginia Lake. They took us on board, bag, baggage, and canoe, and +Steve was dismissed. +</P> + +<P> +In an hour we were in sight of Rigolet, and I saw a Hudson's Bay +Company Post for the first time in my life. As our steamer approached, +a flag was run up in salute to the top of a tall staff, and when it had +been caught by the breeze, the Company's initials, H. B. C., were +revealed. The Company's agents say these letters have another +significance, namely, "Here Before Christ," for the flag travels ahead +of the missionaries. +</P> + +<P> +The reservation of Rigolet is situated upon a projection of land, with +a little bay on one side and the channel into which Hamilton Inlet +narrows at this point on the other. Long rows of whitewashed +buildings, some of frame and some of log, extend along the water front, +coming together at the point of the projection so as to form two sides +of an irregular triangle. A little back of the row on the bay side, +and upon slightly higher ground, stands the residence of the agent, or +factor as he is officially called, this building being two stories high +and otherwise the most pretentious of the group. It is commonly called +the "Big House," and near it is the tall flagstaff. Between the rows +of buildings and the shore is a broad board walk, which leads down near +the apex of the triangle to a small wharf of logs. It was at this +wharf that our little party landed. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard presented his letter of introduction from Commissioner Chipman +of the Hudson's Bay Company to Mr. James Fraser, the factor, and we +received a most cordial welcome, being made at home at the Big House. +We found the surroundings and people unique and interesting. There +were lumbermen, trappers, and fishermen—a motley gathering of +Newfoundlanders, Nova Scotians, Eskimos and "breeds," the latter being +a comprehensive name for persons whose origin is a mixture in various +combinations and proportions of Eskimo, Indian, and European. All were +friendly and talkative, and hungry for news of the outside world. +</P> + +<P> +Lying around everywhere, or skulking about the reservation, were big +Eskimo dogs that looked for all the world like wolves in subjection. +We were warned not to attempt to play with them, as they were extremely +treacherous. Only a few days before a little Eskimo boy who stumbled +and fell was set upon by a pack and all but killed before the brutes +were driven off. The night we arrived at Rigolet the pack killed one +of their own number and ate him, only a little piece of fur remaining +in the morning to tell the tale. +</P> + +<P> +Within an hour after we reached the post, Dr. Simpson arrived on the +Julia Sheridan; but as he had neglected to bring the mail for Northwest +River Post that the Virginia Lake had left at Indian Harbour, he had to +return at once. Dr. Simpson not being permitted by his principles to +run his boat on Sunday, unless in a case of great necessity, we were +told not to expect the Julia Sheridan back from Indian Harbour until +Monday noon; and so we were compelled to possess our souls in patience +and enjoy the hospitality of Mr. Fraser. I must confess that while I +was anxious to get on, I was at the same time not so greatly +disappointed at our enforced delay; it gave me an opportunity to see +something of the novel life of the post. +</P> + +<P> +While at Rigolet we of course tried to get all the information possible +about the country to which we were going. No Indians had been to the +post for months, and the white men and Eskimos knew absolutely nothing +about it. At length Hubbard was referred to "Skipper" Tom Blake, a +breed, who had trapped at the upper or western end of Grand Lake. From +Blake he learned that Grand Lake was forty miles long, and that canoe +travel on it was good to its upper end, where the Nascaupee River +flowed into it. Blake believed we could paddle up the Nascaupee some +eighteen or twenty miles, where we should find the Red River, a wide, +shallow, rapid stream that flowed into the Nascaupee from the south. +Above this point he had no personal knowledge of the country, and +advised us to see his son Donald, whom he expected to arrive that day +from his trapping grounds on Seal Lake. Donald, he said, had been +farther inland and knew more about the country than anyone else on the +coast. +</P> + +<P> +Donald did arrive a little later, and upon questioning him Hubbard +learned that Seal Lake, which, he said, was an expansion of the +Nascaupee River, had been the limit of his travels inland. Donald +reiterated what his father had told us of Grand Lake and the lower +waters of the Nascaupee, adding that for many miles above the point +where the Nascaupee was joined by the Red we should find canoe travel +impossible, as the Nascaupee "tumbled right down off the mountains." +Up the Nascaupee as far as the Red River he had sailed his boat. He +had heard from the Indians that the Nascaupee came from Lake +Michikamau, and he believed it to be a fact. This convinced us that +the Nascaupee was the river A. P. Low, of the Geological Survey, had +mapped as the Northwest. The Red River Donald had crossed in winter +some twenty miles above its mouth, and while it was wide, it was so +shallow and swift that he was sure it would not admit of canoeing. He +could not tell its source, and was sure the Indians had never travelled +on it. In answer to Hubbard's inquiries as to the probability of our +getting fish and game, Donald said there were bears along the +Nascaupee, but few other animals. He had never fished the waters above +Grand Lake, but believed plenty of fish were there. On Seal Lake there +was a "chance" seal, and he had taken an occasional shot at them, but +they were very wild and he had never been able to kill any. +</P> + +<P> +Strange as it may seem, none of the men with whom we talked mentioned +that more than one river flowed into Grand Lake, although they +unquestionably knew that such was the case. Their silence about this +important particular was probably due to the fact, that while the +Labrador people are friendly to strangers, they are somewhat shy and +rarely volunteer information, contenting themselves, for the most part, +with simple answers to direct questions. Furthermore, they are seldom +able to adopt a point of view different from their own, and thus are +unable to realise the amount of guidance a stranger in their country +needs. In fact I discovered later that Skipper Blake and his son, who +have spent all their lives in the vicinity of Hamilton Inlet, never +dreamed anyone could miss the mouth of the Nascaupee River, as they +themselves knew so well how to find it. +</P> + +<P> +We were sitting in the office of the post on Sunday, comfortably away +from the fog that lay thick outside, when we were startled by a +steamship whistle. Out we all ran, and there, in the act of dropping +her anchor, was the Pelican, the company's ship from England. In the +heavy fog she had stolen in and whistled before the flag was raised, +which feat Captain Grey, who commands the Pelican, regarded as a great +joke on the post. Once a year the Pelican arrives from England, and +the day of her appearance is the Big Day for all the Labrador posts, as +she brings the year's supplies together with boxes and letters from +home for the agents and the clerks. From Rigolet she goes to Ungava, +then returns to Rigolet for the furs there and once more steams for +England. +</P> + +<P> +We found Captain Grey to be a jolly, cranky old seadog of the old +school. He has been with the Hudson's Bay Company for thirty years, +and has sailed the northern seas for fifty. He shook his head +pessimistically when he heard about our expedition. "You'll never get +back," he said. "But if you happen to be at Ungava when I get there, +I'll bring you back." "Sandy" Calder, the owner of lumber mills on +Sandwich Bay and the Grand River, who came from Cartwright Post on +Sandwich Bay with Captain Grey on the Pelican, also predicted the +failure of our enterprise. But Hubbard said to me that he had heard +such prophecies before; that they made the work seem all the bigger, +and that he could do it and would. +</P> + +<P> +At noon on Monday Dr. Simpson came with the Julia Sheridan, and we said +good-bye to Rigolet. The voyage down the inlet to Northwest River Post +was without incident, except that the good doctor was much concerned as +to the outcome of our venture, saying: "Don't leave your bones up there +to whiten, boys, if you can possibly help it." We reached Northwest +River at two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, and found the post to be +much the same as Rigolet, except that its whitewashed buildings were +all strung out in one long row. The welcome we received from Mr. +Thomas Mackenzie, the agent there in charge, was most gratifying in its +heartiness. Mr. Mackenzie is a bachelor, tall, lean, high-spirited, +and the soul hospitality. Hubbard promptly dubbed him a "bully +fellow." Probably this was partly due to the fact that he was the first +man in Labrador to give us any encouragement. We had not been there an +hour when he became infected with Hubbard's enthusiasm and said he +would pack up that night and be ready to start with us in the morning, +if he only were free to do so. +</P> + +<P> +To our great disappointment and chagrin, we found that Mackenzie had no +fish nets to sell. We had been unable to obtain any at Rigolet, and +now we were told that none was to be had anywhere in that part of +Labrador. Hubbard realised fully the importance of a gill net as a +part of our equipment and had originally intended to purchase one +before leaving New York; but he was advised by Mr. A. P. Low of the +Canadian Geological Survey that it would be better to defer its +purchase until we reached Rigolet Post or Northwest River, where he +said we could get a net such as would be best adapted to the country. +Hubbard had no reason to doubt the accuracy of this information, as Mr. +Low had previously spent several months at these posts when engaged in +the work of mapping out the peninsula. Conditions, however, had +changed, unfortunately for us, since Mr. Low's visit to Labrador. +Seeing the quandary we were in, Mackenzie got out an old three-inch +gill net that had been lying in a corner of one of his buildings. He +said he was afraid it was worn out, but if we could make any use of it, +we might take it. We, too, had our doubts as to its utility; but, as +it was the best obtainable, Hubbard accepted it thankfully and +Mackenzie had two of his men unravel it and patch it up. +</P> + +<P> +During the afternoon we got our outfit in shape, ready for the start in +the morning. Following is a summary of the outfit taken from an +inventory made at Indian Harbour: Our canoe was 18 feet long, canvas +covered, and weighed about 80 pounds. The tent was of the type known +as miner's, 6 1/2 x 7 feet, made of balloon silk and waterproofed. We +had three pairs of blankets and one single blanket; two tarpaulins; +five duck waterproof bags; one dozen small waterproof bags of balloon +silk for note books; two .45-70 Winchester rifles; two 10-inch barrel +.22-calibre pistols for shooting grouse and other small game; 200 +rounds of .45-70 and 1,000 rounds of .22-calibre cartridges; 3 1/4 x 4 +1/4 pocket folding kodak with Turner-Reich Verastigmat lens; thirty +rolls of films of one dozen exposures each, in tin cans, waterproofed +with electricians' tape; a sextant and artificial horizon; two +compasses and our cooking utensils and clothing. +</P> + +<P> +At Indian Harbour we had four 45-pound sacks of flour, but Hubbard gave +one sack to the pilot of the Julia Sheridan, and out of another sack he +had given the cook on the Julia sufficient flour for one baking of +bread, and we had also used some of this bag on our way from Indian +Harbour to Rigolet. This left two 45-pound bags and about thirty +pounds in the third bag, or 120 pounds in all. There were, perhaps, 25 +pounds of bacon, 13 pounds lard, 20 pounds flavoured pea meal, 9 pounds +plain pea flour in tins, 10 pounds tea, 5 pounds coffee, 8 pounds +hardtack, 10 pounds milk powder, 10 pounds rice, 8 pounds dried apples, +7 pounds salt, 7 or 8 pounds tobacco and 30 pounds sugar. +</P> + +<P> +This outfit, it will be remembered, was designed for three men. Hubbard +tried to hire some of the native to accompany us a few miles into the +interior and carry additional provisions that we might cache, but +failed; they were all "too busy." +</P> + +<P> +Mackenzie treated us royally during the evening we spent at his post, +and we enjoyed his hospitality to the utmost, knowing that it was to be +our last night under shelter for weeks to come. Now we were on the +very edge of the wilderness. To-morrow we should enter the unknown. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV. THE PLUNGE INTO THE WILD +</H3> + +<P> +It was nine o'clock on Wednesday morning, July 15, that we made the +start. Our canoe, laden deep with our outfit, was drawn up with its +prow resting snugly on the sandy bottom of the little strait that is +locally known as the Northwest River. Mackenzie and a group of swarthy +natives gathered on the shore to see us off. All but the high-spirited +agent were grave and sceptical, and shook their heads at our +persistency in going into a country we had been so frequently warned +against. +</P> + +<P> +The atmosphere was crisp, pure, and exhilarating. The fir trees and +shrubs gave out a delicious perfume, and their waving tops seemed to +beckon us on. The sky was deep blue, with here and there a feathery +cloud gliding lazily over its surface. The bright sunlight made our +hearts bound and filled our bodies with vigour, and as we stood there +on the edge of the unknown and silent world we had come so far to see, +our hopes were high, and one and all we were eager for the battle with +the wild. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I were going with you; good-bye and Godspeed!" shouted +Mackenzie, as we pushed the canoe into deep water and dipped our +paddles into the current. In a moment he and the grave men that stood +with him were lost to view. Up through the strait into the Little Lake +we paddled, thence to the rapid where the waters of Grand Lake pour +out. With one end of a tracking line, Hubbard sprang into the shallow +water near the shore below the swift-running stream, and with the other +end fastened to the bow of the canoe, pulled it through the rapid. A +"planter's" family in a cabin near by watched us wonderingly. +</P> + +<P> +Then we were in Grand Lake. Hubbard remarked that it looked like Lake +George, save that the hills were lower. For a few miles above its +outlet the shores on both sides of the lake are low. Then on the south +come bluffs that rise, stern and grand in their nudity, almost +perpendicularly from the deep, clear water, while on the north come +lower hills, the most part wooded, that retreat more gently from the +rocky shore. Heading for the extreme upper of the lake, where Low's +map and the natives had led us to expect we should find the Northwest +or Nascaupee River, we paddled along the north shore to a point where +we stopped among the rocks for a luncheon of flapjacks and syrup. +</P> + +<P> +We were away without waste of time, paddling diagonally across the lake +to the south shore. The fleecy clouds had now thickened, and a few +drops of rain had fallen. In our course across the lake we passed Cape +Corbeau (Raven), but were so far out that the mouth of the river of +that name, which is just east of it, escaped our attention. Cape +Corbeau, it had been named by a French missionary, because the ravens +build their nests on its rocky top, and, perched high up, croak at you +warningly from afar. Always the ravens are there. Involuntarily, as +one croaked above our heads, "Nevermore" echoed through my mind. "And +my soul from out that shadow shall be lifted nevermore." There were +dark shadows ahead of us among the rocks and the forests, and—But in a +moment the thought was drowned and forgotten in the beauties of the +scenery. Beauties?—yes; for bleak and desolate Labrador has a beauty +and a charm all its own. +</P> + +<P> +Two hours after passing Cape Corbeau the rain began to pour, and at +7.30 o'clock, when we made camp on the south shore, we were well +soaked. We resumed our journey at 5.30 in the morning. A stiff breeze +was blowing, but by keeping in the lee of the shore we made good +progress. At ten o'clock, when we found it necessary to cross to the +north shore so as to shorten the distance, there was a rising sea, and +we had to lighten the canoe and ferry the cargo over in two loads. +</P> + +<P> +It was soon after one o'clock that we reached the upper end of the +lake, where we found a stream about 125 yards wide that flowed with a +swift current from out a little lake. Into this lake after luncheon we +paddled, and when we reached its upper end, there was the mouth of a +river, which we immediately hailed as the Nascaupee, the stream that +was to lead us up to Lake Michikamau. Its mouth was wide, and it +seemed to answer so well all the descriptions we had heard of the river +for which we were searching that the possibility of our being mistaken +never once entered our heads; in fact, we remained under the impression +that it was the Nascaupee until the last. +</P> + +<P> +But we were mistaken. We had passed the Nascaupee five miles below, +where it empties, together with the Crooked River, into a deep bay +extending northward from Grand Lake. At its mouth the Nascaupee is +divided by an island into two streams, and this island is so thickly +covered with trees, and the streams on either side of it are so narrow, +that when we crossed along in front of the bay no break in the line of +woods at the mouth of the river was perceptible. Perhaps it will be +said we should have explored the bay. I know now myself that should +have been done, but in justice to Hubbard it must be remembered that +none of us then had any reason to suppose we should find a river at any +place other than the extreme upper end of the lake. Time and time +again Hubbard had asked the few natives who had been there if the +Nascaupee entered Grand Lake at its extreme upper end, and the answer +invariably had been: "Yes, sir; he do." Furthermore, it will have to +be taken into consideration how hard pressed Hubbard was by the fear +that the short summer would end before he had completed his work, and +by the consequent necessity of pushing on with all possible speed. +</P> + +<P> +The river up which we started to ascend with light hearts was the +Susan, a river which was to introduce us promptly to heart-breaking +hardships, a river which is to me associated with the most tragic +memories. +</P> + +<P> +On the southerly side of the little lake Porcupine Hill raises its +spruce-covered head a thousand feet above the water. Proceeding up the +Susan, we found that the river valley was enclosed by low ridges +covered with spruce and a few scattering white birch and aspen trees. +For the most part the banks of the river were steep and high; where +they were low the river formed little pond expansions. For a mile +above its mouth we had good canoeing. Up to this point the river was +not more than thirty yards wide, and was deep, with little current. +Then it began gradually to widen and become shallow and swift, with a +boulder-strewn bottom. Soon we had to jump into the water, and with +Hubbard at the end of the tracking line, and George and I at either end +of the canoe, haul, lift, and push the heavily laden boat up the river, +while we floundered over the boulders. Sometimes we would be able to +get into the canoe and pole, but never for long. Around the worst +places we portaged the whole outfit, canoe and all. It was desperately +hard work, and when night came on and we went into camp, we were only +two miles above the little lake. +</P> + +<P> +Hard as it was, we should not have minded our work in the rapids so +much had it not been for the flies. For the first time we now realised +the full form of what had been told us about the fly pest of Labrador. +We had considered them annoying at Rigolet and Northwest River, but as +soon as we began to buck the rapids they came upon us in clouds. They +got into our nostrils, into our ears, into our mouths, into our eyes +even, and our faces and hands were streaked with blood from their +bites. They were villainous, hellish. Hubbard frequently remarked +that the mosquitoes seemed friendly in contrast—and the mosquitoes +were by no means considerate of our feelings and comfort either. We +had purchased some cheesecloth at Rigolet for face nets, but the trial +we had given it during the afternoon had proved that it was too closely +woven for us to see through it and do our work, and it was useful only +as some measure of protection for our ears and necks. On our faces we +also tried some "fly dope" that we had purchased in New York, but it +kept the pests away for a few minutes only. +</P> + +<P> +The ordinary Labrador fly is smaller than a pinhead. You do not feel +it until after it has had its bite, and then the sensation is like that +of a fiery itch. In addition to this kind, we had to withstand the +attacks of flies called by the natives "bulldogs." These beasts are +about the size of the top joint of one's thumb. They are well named. +When they bite, you feel it immediately beyond a doubt. We used to say +they bit out pieces of our flesh entire and flew up into the trees to +eat them, and we used frequently to beg George to try his luck at +shooting the brutes. However, it must be said to the credit of both +kinds of flies that they have one good habit—they "knock off" work at +the approach of the cool of evening, thus giving you a chance to bathe +as well as sleep. +</P> + +<P> +The rain was still pouring when we pitched our tent that first night, +but we had a good supper and were reasonably cheerful. There were +flapjacks dripping with the syrup of melted sugar, and bacon, and hot +bread, and coffee. +</P> + +<P> +"With this sort of work before us," said Hubbard, "we must keep well +fed." +</P> + +<P> +"The river," said I, "certainly is the limit. If the Indians have to +travel on it much, I feel sorry for them." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Hubbard, "we've surely got our work cut out. At this rate +we're going to make pretty slow progress." +</P> + +<P> +"Blake told us," I ventured, "we could paddle up the river eighteen or +twenty miles, and that he had sailed his boat up that far. I'd be +willing to bet he never sailed it up this stream." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," replied Hubbard, "he was mistaken in the distance. This must be +the place where he said the river tumbled off the mountain. What do you +say, boys," he added, "to throwing away some of the outfit? We'll +never make any progress if we attempt to carry it all." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's stick to it a little longer," suggested George. +</P> + +<P> +However, we decided to abandon some clothing and a pail containing +about four pounds of lard; and as George, particularly, was opposed to +leaving behind us any provisions, it was decided to eat of them +lavishly and pay no attention to the hunt for the present. +</P> + +<P> +All night it continued to rain, and we broke camp and started forward +on Friday morning, July 17, in a drenching downpour. George thought +this was rather hard. While Hubbard was out of hearing, he told me +that the Indians never travelled in the rain, and that he had never +been expected to do so before. The fact was that George had never +before been on an expedition where there was so much necessity for +haste. +</P> + +<P> +We found the river on the second day to be even worse than our worst +fears had pictured it, and it kept growing worse as we ascended. The +water was so swift and shoal that we could take only a part of the +outfit in the canoe, which meant that we had to return at intervals for +the rest and track all the way, Hubbard pulling on the line while +George and I waded and pushed. Sometimes we were scarcely knee deep in +the water, and at other times we would sink up to our armpits. +Frequently we were swept off our feet. Once or twice we forced the +canoe and outfit through the thick willows and alders that lined the +river, and dragged them up the steep bank and attempted to portage; but +the country here had been burned and fallen trees were piled high in +every direction, so that we were compelled to return to the river and +resume our efforts in the raging torrent. +</P> + +<P> +The work was awful, it was heartrending; and though we exerted +ourselves to the utmost from six o'clock in the morning until eight at +night, we advanced our camp only two miles that day. And when we +gathered around the fire at night, how we did "cuss" that river! None +of us, however, was discouraged, nor flinched at the prospect. Our +oil-tanned, cowhide moccasins and woollen trousers were beginning to +show the result of the attacks of bush, rock, and water, but our blue +flannel shirts and soft felt hats were still quite respectable. Our +coats we had left behind us as an unnecessary encumbrance. +</P> + +<P> +While George was cooking breakfast on Saturday morning (July 18), a red +squirrel barked at us from a near-by tree. Drawing his pistol from its +holster, Hubbard said: +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace, let's see who shall have the honour of bringing to George the +first game of the trip." +</P> + +<P> +I acquiesced, and walking around the tree, caught the first glimpse of +the squirrel. At it I carefully aimed my pistol, and down it came. It +made a tiny morsel for three men, but as the "first game of the trip," +we hugely enjoyed it when George served it in a pot of soup. +</P> + +<P> +At six o'clock we broke camp and laboured on, facing the same desperate +conditions that we had met the day before. It is true that the rain +had ceased to fall, but the good weather brought out the flies in +increasing swarms. We fairly breathed flies, and we dreaded them far +more than the hard work. Since they attacked us first, we had left our +faces unwashed so as to retain the "dope," and they were streaming with +a mixture of grease, dirt, blood, and perspiration. +</P> + +<P> +The return of the sun also sent the mercury soaring. At noon that +Saturday it registered 90 degrees in the shade. Always at sunset, +however, the temperature dropped with startling suddenness, and a +variation of from fifty to sixty degrees between the maximum and +minimum record for one day was not an unusual thing as long as summer +lasted. +</P> + +<P> +Floundering up the boulder-strewn river that Saturday, we found the +heat so oppressive that it seemed to us we had got into the torrid zone +instead of up to within a few hundred miles of the Arctic Circle. We +resolved, however, that the obstacles interposed against our advance by +the unfeeling wild should make us fight only the harder, George and I +receiving much inspiration from Hubbard, to whom difficulties were a +blessing and whose spirit remained indomitable up to the very end. And +when we sat down to our evening meal by a cosey fire, we had the +satisfaction of knowing that we had doubled our previous day's record +and were four miles further up the river. +</P> + +<P> +On our first Sunday out we remained in camp to rest. We were all +pretty tired, and enjoyed the long sleep in the morning. The day was +fine, but very warm. In the morning Hubbard caught about twenty small +trout, and after luncheon he and George went up the river on a scouting +trip. When they returned in the evening, they reported important +discoveries. First they had come upon a small, rocky stream flowing +into our river from the south, which stream Hubbard felt sure must be +the Red River the Blakes had told us about, and a mile above that a +two-mile stretch of good water. But the discovery that pleased Hubbard +the most was some old cuttings that apparently had been made by +Indians; he was of the opinion, as were all of us, that they indicated +we really were on the Mountaineer Indian trail to Michikamau, and that +we undoubtedly soon should come upon lakes and other good water that +would carry us through; and the discoveries of the scouting trip buoyed +up our spirits wonderfully. +</P> + +<P> +On Monday morning (July 20) George took an axe and cut us a portage +route from our camp through a swamp a mile and a half to the foot of a +hill. This route we covered three times. It was impossible for one +man alone to carry the canoe through the swamp, and in addition to it +and the firearms we had at this period to transport about five hundred +pounds of baggage made up into packs of about seventy-five pounds each. +At first Hubbard and I found seventy-five pounds a pretty good load to +carry, and neither of us could get even that on his back without help +from George; but later on we learned to back and carry with comparative +ease a hundred pounds or more. In packing we never used either +shoulder or chest straps, relying solely upon the head strap, which +passes across the forehead. +</P> + +<P> +When, after much groaning and sweating, we finally arrived with all of +our outfit at the foot of the hill, it took the combined efforts of all +three of us to get the canoe to the top, whence we followed an old +caribou trail for a mile along the summit, camping just above the +smooth water that Hubbard and George had seen on Sunday. We were all +completely exhausted when we reached camp. While staggering along with +the canoe a hundred yards from the tent, I became so weak that I +suddenly sank to the ground and the others had to come to my rescue and +bring in the canoe. But the night was cool and starry, and we sat long +by our fire and talked and drank pea soup and tea, and when it came +time for us to turn in to our soft bed of fragrant spruce boughs, our +troubles had been quite forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +The good water that Hubbard and George thought was two miles long +shortened down, when we actually came to it the next morning, to less +than half a mile, affording us only a meagre opportunity to make use of +the canoe. For a little distance we again bucked the rapids, and then +left the river for a rough portage of a mile and a half over the hills +on the shore. Again at night we were exhausted, but again we had a +fine camp on a point overlooking the river. The crisp air came laden +with the perfume of spruce and balsam. On the surrounding hills the +fir trees were darkly silhouetted against the sky, radiant with its +myriads of stars. The roar of the river could be heard dying away into +a mere murmur among the hills below. +</P> + +<P> +"Boys," said Hubbard, after we had made a good supper of a mess of +trout I had caught at midday, "this pays for all the hard work." +</P> + +<P> +Undoubtedly Hubbard was in fine fettle that evening, and as we lay +before the fire with that delicious feeling of languor which comes from +conscientious toil, he entertained George and me with quotations from +his favourite author, Kipling, while we puffed comfortably upon our +pipes. One verse he dwelt upon, as it seemed particularly appropriate +to our position. It was: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + When first under fire, if you're wishful to duck,<BR> + Don't look or take heed of the man that is struck;<BR> + Be thankful you're living and trust to your luck,<BR> + And march to your front like a soldier."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. STILL IN THE AWFUL VALLEY +</H3> + +<P> +The next day (Wednesday, July 22) was by far the most disheartening of +our journey up the valley of the Susan. We portaged all day through +gullies and swamps and over rough ridges, covering in all about two +miles and a half. All of us were overcome by the hard work in the +burning sun and the poisonous bites of the flies. I was the most +susceptible to the attacks of the flies; for ten days I was fairly sick +from the poison they instilled. The faces, bands, and wrists of all of +us were badly swollen and very sore. My face was so swollen I could +scarcely see. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning when we started forward the temperature was down to +thirty-three degrees, but at noon it had risen to ninety-two. Hubbard +was attacked with diarrhoea, and I with vomiting. We were all too +exhausted to eat when we stopped for luncheon, and lay on the moss for +an hour's rest, with the tent drawn over us to protect us from the +flies. +</P> + +<P> +On a low, barren knoll we cached that day eighty rounds of .45-70 +cartridges and 300 rounds of .22's, George marking the spot with a +circle of stakes. That left us 120 rounds of .45-70's and 500 rounds +of .22's. It had become strictly necessary to lighten our packs, and +we had begun to drop odds and ends every day. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon Hubbard shot with his pistol a spruce partridge +(grouse); it was the first seen by us on the trip. Together with a +yellowlegs George had shot, it seasoned a pot of pea soup. We camped +that night on a bluff, barren point, and Hubbard named it "Partridge +Point" in bonour of our first bird. +</P> + +<P> +On Thursday (July 23) Hubbard lay in the tent all day sick. All he was +able to eat was some hardtack dipped in tea. At his request George and +I scouted for trails. Each of us carried a rifle and wore at his belt +a pistol and a cup in addition to the sheath knife we never were +without. In our pockets we placed a half-pound package of pea meal. +George started westward up the river, and I put for a high, barren bill +two miles to the north. As I climbed the hill I heard gulls on the +other side, which told me water lay in that direction, and when I +reached the top, there at my feet, like a silver setting in the dark +green forest, lay a beautiful little shoe-shaped lake. For miles and +miles beyond the ridge I was on, the country was flat and covered with +a thick spruce growth. +</P> + +<P> +To the northeast of the lake at my feet I could see the glimmer of +other water among the trees, and I decided to go on and investigate. +In doing so, I managed to get myself lost. Descending the hill to the +lake, I made my way through the thick spruce growth in the swamp along +the shore. A splash in the water startled me, and soon I found the +fresh tracks of a caribou. As he had winded me, I knew it was useless +to try to follow him. Pressing my way on to the northeast, I came upon +another small lake and several small creeks. At midday I built a fire +and made a cup of pea meal porridge. While waiting for my meal to +cook, I read a letter that a friend had given me in New York, "to be +opened after one week's canoeing in Labrador." It was like a letter +just received from home. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon the sun became obscured by gathering clouds, and in +the thick underbrush through which my course led me I could see +scarcely twenty yards ahead. I attempted to get my direction with the +compass, but the needle would not respond. Trusting, however, to my +ability to find my course without it, I made my way on past two more +lakes. A grouse fluttered up before me, and I brought it down with a +pistol shot. After tying it to my belt, I decided it was time to turn +back home, as we called our camp, and struck off by what I hoped would +be a short cut through the swamp. Then it was that I lost my bearings, +and at dusk, when I hoped to reach the first lake I had seen in the +morning, I found myself on the shore of a lake I had never seen before. +</P> + +<P> +Too weary to cook the grouse, or even build a fire and make a cup of +porridge, I threw myself on a flat rock, pillowed my head on the trunk +of a fallen spruce tree, drew a handkerchief over my face to keep away +the clouds of mosquitoes, and slept soundly. At dawn I arose, built a +fire, repaired my compass, and ate a cup of porridge. I was not +frightened, because with my compass again in working order I knew I +should have no difficulty in finding the river, which must be somewhere +to the south and which must lead me back to camp. So to the southward +I took my course, pushing my way through thick brush and over marshes +where the ground under my feet went up and down like the waves of the +sea. +</P> + +<P> +Towards noon I reached a barren hill, and from its summit saw the river +just beyond and the site of one of our old camping places that I knew +was eighteen miles below our last camp. Down to the shore of the river +I hurried, and built a fire for luncheon. The partridge at my belt had +been torn into shreds by the bushes, and again a cup of porridge had to +serve me for a meal. It was dark when I reached camp, to find Hubbard +greatly worried and George away looking for me. +</P> + +<P> +There had been some good-natured arguments between Hubbard and me as to +the merits of our respective compasses, and as he now appeared to have +the better of it, he took advantage of the occasion to chaff me +unmercifully. Then when George returned they both had fun with me for +getting lost. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right," I said, "your turn, Hubbard, will come later. You +haven't been lost yet, because you haven't been out of sight of camp +alone. Anyway, I just stayed out for a quiet evening by myself." +</P> + +<P> +My absence on Friday did not delay our progress any; for Hubbard was +still unable to travel. On Saturday (July 25) he had not yet fully +recovered, but he decided to push forward. A drizzling rain was +falling as we started. Each of us carried a load some four miles up +the valley and returned; and then Hubbard, with a second load, went +ahead to make camp, while George and I, with the remainder of the +baggage, endeavoured to drag the canoe upstream. Darkness came on when +we were two miles below camp. While fording the river, I was carried +off my feet by the current and nearly swept over the fall with a pack +around my neck. +</P> + +<P> +Then George and I left the canoe on the bank for the night, and each +with his pack proceeded to push his way through the thick willows and +alders and over the rocks. It was so dark we could not see each other. +Falling down constantly and struggling to our feet again, we stumbled +on through the pitchy blackness and down-pouring rain, until suddenly +we discerned the glowing light of our campfire and came upon Hubbard +frying bacon. George and I were too tired to eat; we were glad to lie +down in our wet clothes on the bed of spruce boughs that was ready for +us and forget our troubles in sleep. +</P> + +<P> +We rested on Sunday—and ate. A partridge I had shot the day before +was served stewed with rice and bacon for dinner, while for supper we +had twenty-two trout that Hubbard caught in the morning, served with +apple sauce and hot bread. This high living fully recompensed us for +our hard fight against nature and the elements, and once more full of +hope we lay down to sleep. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning (Monday, July 27) Hubbard arose with a feeling of +depression, but fair progress during the day brightened him up. A +typical fall wind blew all day, and we were very wet and very cold when +we went into camp at night. But with the coming of evening the clouds +were driven away before the wind, affording us an occasional glimpse of +the new moon hanging low in the heavens; and this, together with the +sound of the river and the roaring campfire, soon cheered us up. No +matter how weary and discouraged we were during the day, our evening +fire invariably brought to us a feeling of indescribable happiness, a +sweet forgetfulness of everything but the moment's comfort. +</P> + +<P> +Our fire that Monday night was no exception to the general rule, but +after supper, while we were luxuriantly reclining before it on a couch +of boughs, Hubbard gave expression to a strange feeling that had been +growing on him and me in the last few days. It was almost as if the +solitude were getting on our nerves. Hubbard was munching a piece of +black chocolate, which he dipped at intervals in a bit of sugar held in +the palm of his left hand, when he said: +</P> + +<P> +"It's queer, but I have a feeling that is getting stronger from day to +day, that we are the only people left in the world. Have you fellows +experienced any such feeling?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said I; "I have. I have been feeling that we must forever be +alone, going on, and on, and on, from portage to portage, through this +desolate wilderness." +</P> + +<P> +"That's it exactly," said Hubbard. "You sort of feel, that as you are +now, so you always have been and always will be; and your past life is +like a dream, and your friends like dream-folk. What a strange +sensation it is! Have you felt that way, George?" +</P> + +<P> +George took the pipe from his mouth, blew out a cloud of tobacco smoke +to join the smoke of the fire, and spat meditatively over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know as I have," he grunted. "I know there's mighty good +huntin' down the bay; and I've been thinkin' of Rupert's House [the +Hudson's Bay Company Post on James Bay where he was born], and what the +fellus I know there are doin' these days. I can't say they seem like +dream-folks to me; they're real enough, all right." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard and I laughed. Solitude was an old story to our friend, the +English-Indian, and our "feelings" must have seemed to him highly +artificial, if not affected. +</P> + +<P> +Our progress on Tuesday and Wednesday (July 28 and 29) was the old +story of hard tracking in the river and difficult portaging. The +weather was cloudy and a chill wind blew. On Tuesday we advanced our +camp a little more than three miles, and on Wednesday a little more +than four. This continued slow work gave Hubbard serious concern, and +the condition of our larder and wardrobe was not reassuring. Our bacon +and sugar were going fast. Fish had become an absolute necessity, and +our catches had been alarmingly small. There was also a lamentable lack +of game. Far below we had heard the chatter of the last red squirrel, +and seen the last bear signs and the last tree barked by porcupines. +There were caribou trails a-plenty, but seldom a fresh track. A +solitary rabbit had crossed our trail since we entered the valley, and +there were no more rabbit runs visible. We could only hope that as we +neared the "height of land," we should find more game—find plenty of +caribou, at least, on the moss-covered barrens. We had also noted a +change in the timber growth; neither birch nor aspen had we seen for a +week. +</P> + +<P> +Our moccasins were breaking through the bottoms, and this was a serious +matter; for while George had an extra pair, Hubbard and I had only +those on our feet. Hubbard's feet were very sore. Two of his toe +nails came off on Wednesday night, and a wide crack, which must have +made walking very painful, appeared in one of his heels. The nearest +thing we had to adhesive plaster was electrician's tape, and with this +he bandaged his heel, and tied it and his toes up with pieces of cotton +rags we had brought for cleaning rifles. +</P> + +<P> +It was on Thursday, July 30, that we reached the point where another +good-sized stream comes into the Susan, or where the river may be said +to divide into two branches. We found that the southerly branch came +over a low fall from the west, while the other, or northerly branch, +flowed down from the northwest. The southerly branch was fully as +large as the northerly—narrower but deeper—and not nearly so swift +and rocky. +</P> + +<P> +We were very uncertain as to which branch to follow, and Hubbard sent +George on a scouting trip up the southerly stream, which we shall call +Goose Creek, while he himself climbed a knoll to get a look at the +country. A half mile or so up Goose Creek George found a blaze +crossing the stream from north to south, which he pronounced a winter +blaze made by trappers, as the cuttings were high up on the trees and +freshly made. Half a mile above the blaze George came upon the rotten +poles of an old Indian wigwam, and this discovery made Hubbard happy; +he accepted it as evidence that Goose Creek was the river mapped as the +"Northwest" and the Indian route to Michikamau. Accordingly it was +decided to follow the southerly branch, and to leave the main stream at +this point. +</P> + +<P> +I was glad to leave the valley of the Susan. Our whole course up the +valley had been torturous and disheartening. We had been out fifteen +days from Northwest River Post and had covered only eighty miles. +Hubbard had been ill, and I had been ill. Always, as we pressed +onward, I dreaded the prospect of retracing our steps through the Susan +Valley. I hated the valley from end to end. I have more reason to +hate it now. To me it is the Valley of the Shadow of Death. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI. SEARCHING FOR A TRAIL +</H3> + +<P> +When we portaged into Goose Creek on Friday, July 31st, Hubbard had +quite recovered from his illness, I, too, was well again, and our +appetites had returned. It is true that my legs and feet were much +swollen from the continuous work in the cold river, but the swelling +caused me no inconvenience. All of us, in fact, were in better shape +for the fight against the wild than at any time since the start. +</P> + +<P> +For three or four miles up Goose Creek the rapids were almost +continuous, and we had to portage for practically the whole of the +distance. On August 1st and 2d the weather was cold, with a raw wind +and a continuous downpour of rain. At night the rain kept up a steady +drop, drop, drop through our tent. On the 2d, owing to the inclemency +of the weather, we did not travel; but the morning of the 3d brought +brilliant sunshine and with the perfume of the forest in our nostrils +we pushed on, soon reaching a flatter and a marshy country, where the +creek deepened and narrowed with a sluggish current. Here the paddling +was good, and for a little way we made rapid progress. +</P> + +<P> +In this marshy stretch by the creek's bank we saw a beaver house, and +George stepped out of the canoe to examine it. +</P> + +<P> +"They're livin' here," he remarked. "If we're not too far away when we +camp to-night, I'm comin' down with a rifle and watch for 'em. They +come out to play in the water in the evenin' and it's not hard to get +'em." +</P> + +<P> +"What's the use of killing them?" I asked. "What could you do with a +beaver if you got him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd cook it, and we'd have a good snack of beaver meat," said George. +"They're the finest kind of eatin', and I'd go a good way for a piece +of beaver tail; it's nice and greasy, and better than anything you ever +ate." +</P> + +<P> +As we paddled on, George continued to extol the virtues of beaver meat, +expatiating on many a "good snack" of it that he had consumed. +However, he did not return to the beaver house, for more important +things that evening claimed our attention. +</P> + +<P> +It was on this day that we reached a point where our branch creek +itself separated into two branches. Upon scouting them, we discovered +that each of these branches had for its origin a lake, the two bodies +of water from which they flowed being close together some three miles +to the westward. Apparently they were small lakes, but we hoped to +find that they belonged to a chain that would carry us into the +country, and their discovery encouraged us to push on. +</P> + +<P> +This hope was strengthened by Indian wigwam poles that we found in the +vicinity. The poles, it is true, were old, indicating that the Indians +had not been there for several years; but as it had been a long time +since they had ceased to visit regularly Northwest River Post, we +thought we had reason to believe that the poles marked what had been a +permanent trail rather than the course of a hunting expedition. +Hubbard was particularly observant of these old Indian signs. He was +anxious to find them, and delighted when he did find them. "Here are +the signs," he would say, "we are on the right trail." But we were not +on the right trail. The right trail—the Nascaupee route—was miles to +the northward. We eventually did stumble upon a trail to Michikamau, +but it was another one—a very old one—and we found it only to lose it +again. +</P> + +<P> +While we were following up Goose Creek the condition of our +commissariat troubled us not a little. The scarcity of game had forced +us to draw heavily upon our stores. Only a little of our lard and a +small part of our twenty-five pounds of bacon remained. "We must hustle +for grub, boys," Hubbard frequently remarked. Our diet, excepting on +particular occasions, was bread and tea, fish when we could get them, +and sometimes a little pea soup. The pea meal, plain and flavoured, +was originally intended as a sort of emergency ration, but we had drawn +on our stock of it alarmingly. Our flour, too, was going rapidly, and +the time was drawing near when we felt that the ration of bread must be +cut down. +</P> + +<P> +The only thing, perhaps, that we really craved was fresh meat. For +several days after leaving the post we had experienced a decided +craving for acids, but that craving had been partially satisfied when, +on the barren hills that border the Valley of the Susan, we found a few +cranberries that had survived the winter. Every day while we were on +Goose Creek we caught a few small trout. When we halted for any +purpose, Hubbard always whipped the stream. He was a tireless as well +as an expert fisherman. He would fish long after I had become +discouraged, and catch them in pools where they positively refused to +rise for me. The trout thus obtained were relished, but a fish diet is +not strengthening, neither is it satisfying, and as we had had no fresh +meat since the day we landed at Indian Harbour a month before, our +longing for it had become importunate. +</P> + +<P> +Imagine our joy, then, when on August 3d, the day we discovered the +petering out of Goose Creek, some fresh meat came our way. Most +unexpectedly was the day turned into one of feasting and thanksgiving. +As we were preparing, soon after passing the beaver house, to pack at +the foot of a rapid just below a little pond expansion, Hubbard saw +four geese swimming slowly down the stream. He and George had just +lifted their packs from the canoe, while I, some little distance off, +had mine on my back. Hubbard had his rifle in his hands. George, who +caught sight of the geese almost as soon as Hubbard, grabbed my rifle +from the canoe. "Drop!" cried Hubbard, and down we all fell behind the +little bank over which the birds had been sighted. There was fresh +meat swimming towards us, and while we lay waiting for it to come in +sight around the little head of land the excitement was intense. +</P> + +<P> +Soon the leader appeared, and Hubbard and George fired almost +simultaneously. If ever there was a goose that had his goose cooked, +it was that poor, unfortunate leader. One of the bullets from the +.45-70 rifles that were aimed at him went through his neck, cutting the +bone clean and leaving his head hanging by two little bits of skin. +The other bullet bored a hole through his body, breaking both wings. I +did not blame him when he keeled over. The leader disposed of, Hubbard +and George again fired in quick succession, and two of the other geese +dropped just as they were turning back upstream and vainly trying to +rise on their wings, which were useless so soon after the moulting +season. The second shot emptied George's rifle. He threw it down, +grabbed a paddle and went after one of the birds, which, only slightly +wounded, was flopping about in the water. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Hubbard had fired twice at the fourth goose and missed both +times. His rifle also being empty now, he cast it aside, seized his +pistol, ran around the bank and jumped into the water in time to head +off the remaining goose as it was flopping upstream. That brought the +goose between him and George, and the bird was so bewildered that +Hubbard had time to fire at him twice with his pistol and kill him, +while George effectually disposed of the wounded goose by swatting him +over the head with the paddle. Thus all four birds were ours, and our +exultation knew no bounds. We shouted, we threw our hats in the air +and shouted again. Lifting the birds critically, we estimated that we +had on hand about fifty pounds of goose meat. +</P> + +<P> +More luck came to us that same day when we halted for luncheon at the +foot of some rapid water. As soon as we stopped, Hubbard, as usual, +cast a fly, and almost immediately landed a half-pound trout. Then, as +fast as I could split them and George fry them, another and another, +all big ones, fell a victim to his skill. The result was that we had +all the trout we could eat that noon, and we ate a good many. +</P> + +<P> +It was late in the afternoon when we reached the point where the two +brooks joined to form Goose Creek. Our scouting was finished in less +than two hours, and we went into camp early: for, as Hubbard expressed +it, we were to have a "heap big feed," and George reminded us that it +would take a good while to roast a goose. Our camp was pitched at the +foot of a semi-barren ridge a half-mile above the junction of the +brooks. George built a big fire—much bigger than usual. At the back +he placed the largest green log he could find. Just in front of the +fire, and at each side, he fixed a forked stake, and on these rested a +cross pole. From the centre of the pole he suspended a piece of stout +twine, which reached nearly to the ground, and tied the lower end into +a noose. +</P> + +<P> +Then it was that the goose, nicely prepared for cooking, was brought +forth. Through it at the wings George stuck a sharp wooden pin, +leaving the ends to protrude on each side. Through the legs he stuck a +similar pin in a similar fashion. This being done, he slipped the +noose at the end of the twine over the ends of one of the pins. And lo +and behold! the goose was suspended before the fire. +</P> + +<P> +It hung low—just high enough to permit the placing of a dish under it +to catch the gravy. Now and then George gave it a twirl so that none +of its sides might have reason to complain at not receiving its share +of the heat. The lower end roasted first, seeing which, George took +the goose off, reversed it and set it twirling again. After a time he +sharpened a sliver of wood, stuck it into the goose and examined the +wound critically. +</P> + +<P> +"Smells like a Christmas goose when one goes through the kitchen dead +hungry before dinner," said Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"Um-m-n!" I commented. +</P> + +<P> +In a little while George tried the sharp splinter again. Hubbard and I +watched him anxiously. White juice followed the stick. Two hours had +passed, and the goose was done! +</P> + +<P> +Events now came crowding thick and fast. First, George put the +steaming brown goose in his mixing basin, and deftly and rapidly +disjointed it with his sheath knife. Meanwhile, with nervous haste, +Hubbard and I had drawn our knives, and with the tin basin of goose +before us, all three of us plumped down in a half-circle on the thick +moss in the light of the bright-blazing fire. Many of the rules of +etiquette were waived. We stood not on the order of our falling to, +but fell to at once. We eat, and we eat, at first ravenously, then +more slowly. With his mouth full of the succulent bird, George allowed +he would rather have goose than caribou. "I prefer goose to anything +else," said he, and proceeded to tell us of goose hunts "down the bay" +and of divers big Indian feasts. At length all the goose was gone but +one very small piece. "I'll eat that for a snack before I sleep," said +George, as he started to put the giblets to stew for breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +The fire died down until nothing remained save a heap of glowing +embers. For a long time we sat in the darkness over an extra pot of +tea. At first, silence; and then, while George and I puffed +complacently on our pipes, Hubbard, who never smoked, entertained us +with more of Kipling. "The Feet of the Young Men" was one of his +favourites, and that night he put more than his usual feeling into the +words: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose—<BR> + Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain;<BR> + Now the Young Men's hearts are troubled for the whisper of the Trues,<BR> + Now the Red Gods make their medicine again!<BR> + Who hath seen the beaver busied?<BR> + Who hath watched the black-tail mating?<BR> + Who hath lain alone to hear the wild-goose cry?<BR> + Who hath worked the chosen water where the ouananiche is waiting,<BR> + Or the sea-trout's jumping—crazy for the fly?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + He must go—go—go away from here!<BR> + On the other side the world he's overdue.<BR> + 'Send your road is clear before you when the old<BR> + Spring-fret comes o'er you<BR> + And the Red Gods call for you!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Again the silence. The northern lights flashed and swept in fantastic +shapes across the sky, illuminating the fir tops in the valley and +making the white lichens gleam on the barren hill above us. We thought +of the lake ahead with its old wigwams, and the promise it held out of +an easy trail to Michikamau made us feel sure that the worst part of +our journey was ended. Thus we sat supremely happy and content until +long past midnight, when we went to our tent and our bed of fragrant +spruce boughs, to be lulled asleep by the murmuring waters of the creek +below. +</P> + +<P> +The brooks into which Goose Creek divided near our camp of course would +not permit of canoeing, and the morning after our feast (August 4) we +portaged through a swamp into the lake that fed the southerly one. We +called this small body of water Mountaineer Lake, because the +Mountaineer Indians had been there. Besides numerous cuttings and the +remains of wigwams, we found the ruins of a drying stage where they had +cured meat or fish. From Goose Camp to the lake shore George carried +the canoe, and Hubbard and I each a pack. Then while George and I +returned for the remaining packs, Hubbard waited by the lake. As he +sat there alone, a caribou waded into the water less than a hundred +feet away, stopped and looked fearlessly at him for a few moments, and +then walked leisurely off into the woods. +</P> + +<P> +"It seemed as if he wanted to shake hands with me," Hubbard said when +he told us of the incident. He had to let the deer depart in peace, +because both rifles were back with the last loads at Goose Camp, and +his pistol was in his bag. Needless to say, we were bitterly +disappointed at losing the first deer we had seen, and it taught us the +lesson always to take one rifle forward with the first load on a +portage. +</P> + +<P> +We spent the afternoon scouting in different directions, and discovered +that the only inlet to Mountaineer Lake ended in a bog a mile or so up. +A mile or more to the westward, however, George discovered another and +much larger lake, which in honour of him we shall call Lake Elson. An +old trail led from Mountaineer Lake to Lake Elson, which George +pronounced to be a caribou trail, but which Hubbard believed to be an +old portage, because it led from lake to lake by the most direct +course. There were no axe cuttings, however, to indicate that the +Indians had followed it. +</P> + +<P> +We tried the troll in Mountaineer Lake, but caught nothing. Apparently +there was nothing there but trout, of which fish I caught eight at the +inlet. I shot with my pistol a muskrat that was swimming in the lake, +but George did not cook it, as he said the flesh would be too strong at +that season. It was raining again and the mosquitoes were out in +millions, but with three geese still on hand and a good lake ahead we +were indifferent to such troubles as that, although our clothing was +not now in a condition successfully to withstand much bad weather. +</P> + +<P> +Rags, in fact, were beginning to appear upon us all. One of Hubbard's +trousers legs was ripped clear down the front, and it was continually +streaming behind in the wind and getting caught in the bushes, despite +his efforts to keep it in place with pieces of twine. At length he +patched it with a piece of white duffel, and exhibited his tailoring +feat to us with much pride. +</P> + +<P> +About noon on August 5, after a two-mile portage, we reached Lake +Elson. On the way Hubbard sighted two caribou. He dropped his pack +and grabbed his rifle. They were 250 yards away and partially hidden +by the timber, and as they were approaching him, he waited, believing +he would get a better shot. But, while he was waiting, what he called +a "cussed little long-legged bird" scared them off, by giving a sharp, +shrill cry of alarm, which the deer evidently were clever enough to +construe as meaning that something out of the ordinary was happening. +</P> + +<P> +Lake Elson proved to be about three and a half miles long and a half +mile wide. It lay in a basin surrounded by wooded hills. The +northerly portion was dotted with low, mound-like islands of drift, +with two or three irregular, rocky islands, all completely wooded. It +was a beautiful sheet of water, and, like all the lakes in Labrador, as +clear as crystal and very cold. On the northerly side there were +narrow straits and inlets, doubtless connecting the lake with others to +the northwest that were hidden by the growth. +</P> + +<P> +The outlet was at the southern end. It flowed through a pass in a low +ridge of hills that extended for a great distance east and west, and +emptied into a small lake, the waters of which were discharged through +a creek that flowed through a pass in another low ridge that ran +parallel with the first as far as we could see. Between the two ridges +was a marsh that extended westward for many miles. The ridges and the +hills surrounding the lakes were covered with spruce and balsam. +Nowhere along our route since we left Northwest River Post, however, +had we seen any timber of commercial value; the largest trees did not +exceed eight inches in diameter, the generality being much smaller. +</P> + +<P> +We were somewhat disconcerted upon finding no further signs of Indians, +and feared we had lost the trail. Neither trapper's blaze nor +trapper's cutting was to be seen; for now we were beyond their zone and +in a country that apparently no white man and no breed had ever viewed. +We selected a site for our camp near the outlet at the southern end of +the lake. In the afternoon Hubbard and George went to some bluffs that +could be seen two or three miles to the southward, to scout for a route +to Michikamau and find the Indian trail if possible. I remained behind +to make camp. +</P> + +<P> +The days were now shortening rapidly; it was dark before eight o'clock. +In the grey of the twilight George returned. When he hailed me, I was +fishing in the outlet just below the camp, standing on a rock in +midstream to which I had waded. +</P> + +<P> +"Come 'long up to camp," he called. Once in the wilderness, we made no +distinctions as to master and servant; we were all companions together. +Hence George's familiar manner of address. +</P> + +<P> +"When I land two more trout," I shouted back. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got enough; come 'long now," he pleaded. There was that in his +tone that excited my curiosity; he seemed all of a sudden to have +acquired an unusual fondness for my society. "What's the matter, +George?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been about lost," he returned. "Come on and I'll tell you." +</P> + +<P> +I was astonished. I had seen George drop a pack in the bush, where +everything for miles around looked alike to me, and without marking the +spot or apparently taking note of any guiding signs, he would go +directly to it again. I was with him one pitch-dark night when he left +a pack among alders and willows in the depth of a marsh, and in the +morning he went back two miles straight to the very spot. How a man +that could do this could get lost was beyond my understanding. I +hurried up to camp. +</P> + +<P> +"How did it happen, George?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I just got turned 'round," he replied. "I didn't have any grub, and I +didn't have a pistol, or a fishhook, or any way to get grub, and I +didn't have a compass, and I was scared." +</P> + +<P> +"But don't you know how you got lost?" I persisted. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't," said George. "I just got lost. But I found myself +pretty quick. I never got lost before." +</P> + +<P> +The only way I could account for it was that he had permitted his +thoughts to wander. I asked him what he would have done if he had not +been able to find his way back. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone to the highest hill I could see," he answered with a grin, "and +made the biggest smoke I could make at its top, and waited for you +fellus to find me." +</P> + +<P> +While we were talking George was busily engaged in making the fire, +putting a goose to boil and preparing water for tea. The twilight +deepened, and ere we realised it darkness had come. Every moment we +expected to hear Hubbard, but he did not appear. +</P> + +<P> +"Another man lost," said I, with a forced lightness that illy concealed +the anxiety George and I both felt; we knew that Hubbard not only had +nothing to eat, but no matches to make a fire. +</P> + +<P> +Frequently we stopped our work and talk, to peer into the gathering +night and listen for the breaking of a twig. At length I took my rifle +and fired at intervals half a dozen shots; but the reports echoed and +died away without a reply. A damp north wind chilled the air, and the +gloom seemed particularly oppressive. +</P> + +<P> +"Hubbard will have a hard night out there in the bush," said George. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I replied; "I don't suppose we can expect him back now before +morning; and when a man is lost in this wild country it's pretty hard +to find a little tent all by itself." +</P> + +<P> +I was thinking of my own experience farther back, and what might happen +should Hubbard fail to find us or we him. He was not so fortunate as I +had been, in that there was no river to guide his return. However, at +five o'clock in the morning he appeared. He had spent a miserable night +on a ridge two miles to the southward, wet and shivering, with no fire, +and tormented by mosquitoes. He reported that from the ridge he could +hear the roar of a rapid. Darkness had prevented him from going on, and +he had not seen the rapid, but he was sure it was a part of a big river. +</P> + +<P> +At first he was loath to admit he had been lost, doubtless remembering +how he and George had "guyed" me when I had been out all night and my +prediction that his turn would come; but when George confessed to +having gone astray also, he made a clean breast of it, telling us he +was "lost good and plenty, and scared some, too." Now I had my +innings, and I must confess I took great delight in returning some of +the chaff they had given me. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard decreed, in consequence of these experiences—getting +lost—that thereafter each man at all times should have on his person +an emergency kit, to consist of matches, a piece of fish line, some +hooks and two or three flies, enclosed in a film box waterproofed with +electrician's tape. +</P> + +<P> +We remained in our camp on Lake Elson for two days in order to scout +and dry fish. It was the best fishing place we had yet come to. +During our stay we had all the trout we could eat, and we dried and +smoked forty-five large ones. The scouting proved that Hubbard's "big +river" was an important discovery. It lay two miles to the south of +us, flowing to the southeast. Hubbard sent George to look at it, and +he reported that it certainly came from large lakes, as it was big, +deep and straight. Could it come from Lake Michikamau? +</P> + +<P> +While George was away Hubbard and I took a trip in the canoe around the +lake and through some inlets. At the northeast we discovered a creek +flowing into the lake, and as there were some old Indian wigwams and +cuttings near it, indicating the possibility of its being part of a +trail, we seriously considered the advisability of following it up. +From a knoll near by we could see to the northwest other lakes into +which the creek might possibly lead us; but, after returning to camp, +we considered the situation fully in the light of George's report of +the big river, and we decided that to the big river we should go. +</P> + +<P> +This decision was not to prove an error of judgment; for the big river +was none other than the Beaver—an important part of an old trail of +the Indians to Lake Michikamau. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII. ON A REAL RIVER AT LAST +</H3> + +<P> +We broke camp in the forenoon of August 7th, and a few hours later, +after making two trips back and forth, we arrived with our baggage on +the bank of our new river. At last we had a real river to travel on, +its average width being between 100 and 150 yards. None of us, of +course, then knew that our real river was the Beaver, and that in +taking to it we had stumbled upon an old Indian route to Lake +Michikamau. If we had known this, it would have made a great +difference in our fortunes. +</P> + +<P> +Immediately below the point where we portaged into the river, wooded +ridges on either side hugged it close, forming a narrow valley. Just +above us the valley broadened, and a mile or so up a big hill reared +its barren summit above the black spruce trees at its base, standing +there like a lonely sentinel among the little hills that bordered the +widening river basin. Despite the fact that we had reached a real +river, we still had rapids to encounter, and we had to make so many +short portages that after we had ascended the river two miles it was +time to camp. +</P> + +<P> +We pitched our tent on a rising plateau just below a stretch of rushing +water. As soon as we stopped, Hubbard tried to fish, and while I made +camp he landed fifteen trout averaging nearly half a pound each. They +were most welcome, as the time had come when we had to live off the +country. Our bread ration was now cut down to one-third of a loaf a +day for each man. As we had no lard, it was made simply of flour, +baking powder, and water. It was baked in our frying pan, and a loaf +was about eight inches in diameter and one inch thick, so that our +daily ration was but a morsel. We also decided that from now on we +should use pea meal only on rare occasions, and to reserve our other +provisions, with the exception of a few dried apples, tea, coffee and a +little chocolate and cocoa, to give us a start should we at any time +find it necessary to make a sudden dash for the Post. +</P> + +<P> +Our clothing was rapidly disintegrating. The front of Hubbard's +trouser leg was all torn open again, and once more he had to resort to +pieces of twine. We had frequent discussions at this period as to +whose appearance was the most beautiful. For a time Hubbard and I +would claim the distinction each for himself, but it usually ended by +our conceding the distinction to George. As a matter of fact, with our +unkempt hair and beards and our rags, we now formed as tough looking a +party of tramps as ever "came down the pike." That night in camp I cut +up my canvas leggings and used pieces of the canvas to rebottom my +moccasins, sewing it on with shoemaker's thread. +</P> + +<P> +It was a glorious evening. A big moon rising over the bluffs beyond us +transformed the river into a silvery thread stretching far down through +the dark valley. Behind us the black spruce forest made our roaring +fire seem more cheerful in contrast. A cold east wind had driven away +the flies and the mosquitoes. Supper eaten, our cup of contentment was +full to the brim. After all, the wilderness was not so inhospitable. +Who would be anywhere else, if he could? Not one of us. +</P> + +<P> +With the sensation that we were the only people in Labrador, a fancy +struck me and I suggested to my companions that we ought to organise +some sort of government. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll make you, Hubbard," I said, "the head of the nation and call you +the Great Mogul. Of course you will be commander-in-chief of the army +and navy and have unlimited power. We're your subjects." +</P> + +<P> +"I suspect," replied Hubbard, "you are looking for a political job. +However, I, of course, stand ready, like our politicians at home, to +serve the country when duty calls—if there's enough in it. As the +Great Mogul of Labrador, I appoint you, Wallace, Chief Justice and also +Secretary of State. George I shall appoint Admiral of the Navy." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are my ships?" asked George. +</P> + +<P> +"Ships!", exclaimed Hubbard. "Well, there will be only one for the +present. But she's a good staunch one—eighteen feet long, with a beam +of thirty-three and a half inches. And she carries two quick-fire +rifles." +</P> + +<P> +With these and other conceits we whiled away the beautiful evening +hours. What a difference there was in the morning! We awoke—it was +Saturday, August 8—to find that the east wind had increased in force +and was accompanied by a driving, chilling rain. Reluctantly we broke +camp, and began a day of back-breaking, disheartening work. The wind +soughed dismally through the forests, and it was as though late autumn +had overtaken us in a night. The spruce boughs, watersoaked, seemed to +hang low for no other purpose than to strike us in the face at every +step, and the willows and alders along the river that now and again +obstructed our way appeared to be thicker and wetter than ever. +</P> + +<P> +Under these conditions we had made six portages, the longest of which +was about three-quarters of a mile, and covered in all about four and a +half miles, when one o'clock came and we gave up the fight for the day, +to make our Sunday camp and try to get fish. We were ravenously +hungry, and ate even the heads of the dried trout we had for luncheon, +these being the last of those we caught and smoked on Lake Elson. +During the afternoon we put out for the first time the old gill net +Mackenzie had given us, and by hard work with the rod caught a few more +trout for supper. +</P> + +<P> +It still poured on Sunday morning. Hubbard fished all day, and I the +greater part of the forenoon. The net product of our labor was +forty-five trout, most of them little fellows. The gill net yielded us +nothing. In the afternoon George and I took the rifles and started out +in different directions to look for caribou. Neither of us found any +fresh tracks. I returned at dusk, to find George already in camp and +our supper of boiled fish ready to be eaten. Our sugar was all gone by +this time, and our supply of salt was so low that we were using hardly +any. In spite of us the salt had been wet in the drenching rains we +had encountered all up the Susan Valley, and a large part of it had +dissolved. +</P> + +<P> +While we all craved sugar and other sweets, I believe Hubbard suffered +the most from their absence. Perhaps the fact that George and I used +tobacco and he did not, was the explanation. He was continually +discussing the merits of various kinds of cake, candies, and sweet +things generally. Our conversation too often turned to New York +restaurants, and how he would visit various ones of them for particular +dishes. Bread undoubtedly was what we craved the most. "I believe +I'll never refuse bread again," Hubbard would say, "so long as there's +a bit on the table." +</P> + +<P> +Monday (August 10) brought with it no abatement of the driving rain and +cold east wind. Working industriously for half an hour before +breakfast, Hubbard succeeded in landing a single small trout, which +fell to me, while he and George ate thick pea meal porridge, of which +they were very fond. We made several short portages during the +morning, and, despite the dismal weather, our spirits brightened; for +we came upon old wigwam poles and axe cuttings, which we accepted as +proof that we were now surely on the Indian trail to Michikamau. +Towards noon Hubbard said: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, boys, we're on the right road, we've covered three miles this +morning, and this rain is killing, so we'll pitch camp now, and wait +for the weather to clear and try to get some fish ahead. There are fish +here, I know, and when the wind changes we'll get them." +</P> + +<P> +After warming ourselves by a big fire and eating luncheon, Hubbard and +I took our rods and fished the greater part of the afternoon, catching +between us twelve or fifteen trout. +</P> + +<P> +"You had better cook them all for supper, George," said Hubbard. "This +is my mother's birthday, and in honour of it we'll have an extra loaf +of bread and some of her dried apples. And I tell you what, boys, I +wish I could see her now." +</P> + +<P> +On the following day (Tuesday, August 11) the weather had somewhat +moderated, but the east wind continued, and the rain still fell during +all the forenoon. We could get no fish at our camp, and at two in the +afternoon started forward, all of us hungry and steadily growing +hungrier. Hubbard whipped the water at the foot of every rapid and +tried every pool, but succeeded in getting only a very few trout. +While he fished, George and I made the portages, and thus, pushing on +as rapidly as possible, we covered about four miles. +</P> + +<P> +While George and I were scouting on Sunday, we had each caught sight of +a ridge of rocky mountains extending in a northerly and southerly +direction, which we estimated to be from twenty to twenty-five miles to +the westward. Previous to Tuesday, these mountains had not been +visible from the river valley, but on that day they suddenly came into +view, and they made us stop and think, for they lay directly across our +course. However, we did not feel much uneasiness then, as we decided +that our river must flow through a pass in the mountains far to the +north, and follow them down before turning east. +</P> + +<P> +Our camp on Tuesday night was rather a dreary one; but before noon on +Wednesday (August 12) the clouds broke, big patches of blue sky began +to appear, and with a bit of sunshine now and again, our hearts +lightened as we proceeded on our journey. +</P> + +<P> +At the foot of a half-mile portage Hubbard caught fourteen trout, and +our luncheon was secure. Three more portages we made, covering in all +about three miles, and then we shouted for joy, for there ahead of us +lay open water. Along it for five miles we gaily canoed before +stopping for luncheon. Hungry? Yes, we were hungry even after +devouring the fourteen trout and drinking the water they were boiled +in—I could have eaten fifty like them myself—but our spirits were +high, and we made merry. For the first time since leaving Grand Lake +there was good water behind us and good water before us. +</P> + +<P> +At the last rapid we portaged the country had flattened out. Wide +marshes extended along the south bank of the river, with now and then a +low hill of drift. The north side was followed by a low ridge of +drift, well wooded. We landed for luncheon on the south bank, at the +foot of a wooded knoll, and there we made an interesting discovery, +namely, the remains of an old Indian camp and the ruins of two large +birch-bark canoes. In November, at Northwest River Post, I heard the +story of those canoes. +</P> + +<P> +Twelve years before, it appears, the band of Indians that had camped +there, being overtaken by early ice, was forced to abandon its canoes +and make a dash for the Post. Game was scarce, and the fish had gone +to deeper waters. The Indians pushed desperately on overland, but one +by one they fell, until at last the gaunt fiend, Starvation, had +claimed them all. Since that time no Indian has ever travelled that +trail—the route to Michikamau upon which we had stumbled was thereupon +abandoned. The Indians believe the trail is not only unlucky, but +haunted; that if while on it they should escape Starvation—that +terrible enemy which nearly always dogs them so closely—they are +likely to encounter the spirits of them that died so many years ago. +</P> + +<P> +Not knowing anything of this tragic story, we merrily ate our luncheon +on the very spot where others in desperation had faced death. It was +to us an old Indian camp, and an additional reason for believing we +were on the right trail, that was all. While we ate, the sun came out +brilliantly, and we resumed our paddling feeling ready for almost +anything that might happen. And something soon did happen—something +that made the day the most memorable so far of the trip. +</P> + +<P> +No rapids intercepted our progress, and in an hour we had paddled three +miles, when, at a place where the river widened, a big woodland stag +caribou suddenly splashed into the water from the northern shore, two +hundred yards ahead. I seized my rifle, and, without waiting for the +canoe to stop, fired. The bullet went high. The caribou raised his +head and looked at us inquisitively. Then Hubbard fired, and with the +dying away of the report of his rifle, George and I shouted: "You hit +'im, Hubbard; you've got 'im!" The wounded caribou sank half way to his +knees, but struggled to his feet again. As he did so, Hubbard sent +another shot at him, but missed. Slowly the big deer turned, and began +to struggle up the bank. Again Hubbard and I fired, but both shots went +low. +</P> + +<P> +We ran the canoe to shore, and while I made it fast, Hubbard and George +ran breathlessly ahead to where the caribou had disappeared. I followed +at once, and soon came upon them and the caribou, which fallen thirty +yards from the river with a bullet through his body just back of the +left shoulder. A trail of blood marked his path from the river to +where he lay. As the animal floundered there in the moss, Hubbard, +with the nervous impetuosity he frequently displayed, fired again +against George's protest, the bullet entering the caribou's neck and +passing down through his tongue the full length. Then George caught +the thrashing animal by the antlers, and while he held its head down +Hubbard cut its throat. +</P> + +<P> +We made our camp right where the caribou fell. It was an ideal spot on +the high bank above the river, being flat and thickly covered with +white moss. The banks at this point were all sand drift; we could not +find a stone large enough to whet our knives. George made a stage for +drying while Hubbard and I dressed the deer. Our work finished, we all +sat down and roasted steaks on sticks and drank coffee. The knowledge +that we were now assured of a good stock of dried meat, of course, +added to the hilarity of feast. As we thought it best to hoard our +morsel of flour, it was a feast of venison and venison alone. +</P> + +<P> +While waiting for our meat to dry, we had to remain in camp for three +or four days. On the next afternoon (Thursday, August 13) Hubbard and +I paddled about three miles up the river to look for fish, but we got +no bites, probably because of the cold; in the morning there had been a +fringe of ice on the river shore. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll take it easy," said Hubbard while we were paddling upstream, +"and make a little picnic of it. I'm dead tired myself. How do you +feel, Wallace?" +</P> + +<P> +"I feel tired, too," I said. "I have to make an extra effort to do any +work at all." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard was inclined to attribute this tired feeling to the freedom +from strain after our nerve-racking work of the last few weeks, while I +hazarded the opinion that our purely meat diet had made us lazy. +Probably it was due to both causes. +</P> + +<P> +As Hubbard was anxious to obtain definite knowledge as to what effect +the high ridge of rocky mountains had upon our river, George and I, +with the object of ascertaining the river's course, left camp in the +canoe on Friday morning (August 14), taking with us, in addition to our +emergency kits, our cups, some tea, and enough caribou ribs for +luncheon. We portaged around a few short rapids, and then, about eight +miles above our camp, came upon a lake expansion of considerable size +with many inlets. On the northerly side of the lake was a high, barren +hill, which afforded us a splendid view of the surrounding country. +</P> + +<P> +Winding away to the southeast was the river we had ascended. To the +west was a series of lake expansions connected by narrow straits, and +beyond them were the mountains, which we estimated rose about 2,500 +feet above the country at their base. In sheltered places on their +sides, patches of ice and snow glistened in the sunshine. Barren +almost to their base, not a vestige of vegetation to be seen anywhere +on their tops or sides, they presented a scene of desolate grandeur, +standing out against the blue sky like a grim barrier placed there to +guard the land beyond. As I gazed upon them, some lines from Kipling's +"Explorer" that I had often heard Hubbard repeat were brought forcibly +to my mind: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges—<BR> + Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Let us call these ranges the Kipling Mountains. +</P> + +<P> +To the north, hill after hill, with bald top rising above the stunted +trees on its sides, limited our range of vision. Far away to the south +stretched a rolling, wooded country. To the eastward the country was +flatter, with irregular ranges of low hills, all covered with a thick +growth of spruce and fir balsam. Beyond the point where the water +flowed from it southeasterly into the river we had ascended, the lake +at the foot of our hill seemed to extend directly eastward for four for +five miles; but the thick wood of the valleys and low-lying hills made +it difficult to see just where it ended, so that from where we stood it +was impossible to tell what course the river took—whether it came from +the east, bending about in the lake expansion below us, or flowed from +the west through the lake expansions beyond. Away off to the northeast +an apparently large lake could be discerned, with numerous mound-like +islands dotting its surface. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time we stood and gazed about us. Far to the southeast a +tiny curl of smoke rose heavenward in the clear atmosphere. That was +Hubbard's campfire—the only sign of life to be seen in all that wide +wilderness. The scene was impressive beyond description. It gave me a +peculiar feeling of solemnity and awe that I shall never forget. +</P> + +<P> +We found on our hill a few dead twigs of sub-Arctic shrubbery with +which to make a fire to broil our caribou ribs, and gathered some +mildly acid berries of a variety neither of us had ever seen before, +which we ate as a dessert. After luncheon George said he thought we +had better go to the westward to look for the river. +</P> + +<P> +"But how can it come through those mountains?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know as it can," he replied. "But," pointing to one of the +range, "I want to take a look at the country beyond from that high +mountain." +</P> + +<P> +So we returned to our canoe, and paddled to the westward a few miles +through two lake expansions, which brought us to the foot of the +mountains. We landed at a place where a small creek tumbled down +through a rocky pass. George went up his mountain alone. During his +absence, with my emergency kit, I caught ten six-inch trout to be +divided between us for supper, as only two of our caribou ribs +remained. Near dark George came back. After climbing half way to the +summit of his mountain, he had encountered perpendicular walls of rock +that blocked his further progress. +</P> + +<P> +We made a fire of old wigwam poles, and roasted our fish before it on a +flat stone. A quart of hot tea between us washed down our meagre +supper, and then we made a bed of boughs. But when we tried to sleep +the icy wind that blew through the pass caused us to draw closer to the +fire, before which we alternately sat and lay shivering throughout the +night. Having brought no axe with us, we could not build a fire of any +size. I do not believe either of us slept more than half an hour. +</P> + +<P> +"Which would you rather have, Wallace, a piece of bread or a blanket?" +George would ask at frequent intervals. +</P> + +<P> +"Bread," I always answered. At that he would chuckle. We had tasted +nothing but venison and fish since the day we killed the caribou, and +for bread we had an inexpressible craving. +</P> + +<P> +"Anyway," George would say, "this cold will weaken the flies." And +with this reflection he continued to comfort us as the nights became +chillier. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning we had to break the ice to get water for our tea, which +with the two remaining caribou ribs constituted our breakfast. George +then made another attempt at his mountain. Again he failed to reach the +summit, and I failed to induce any more trout to rise. In a somewhat +despondent mood we turned back, and paddled for some distance into the +lake expansions to the eastward of the point where our river flowed +out. Although we were compelled to start for "home" before obtaining +any definite knowledge of the course of the river, we were of the +opinion that it came from the east. For all we knew, however, the +river might end in those lake expansions; we could not tell, as no +current could be discerned, and having no food we could not continue +the search. +</P> + +<P> +It was five o'clock in the evening when we reached camp, tired out and +as hungry as two wolves, and we astonished Hubbard with the amount of +venison we put out of sight. While George was temporarily out of +hearing, Hubbard said: +</P> + +<P> +"It's bully good to see you back again, Wallace. I was disappointed +when you didn't come back last night, and I've been dead lonesome. I +got thinking of my wife and home, and the good things to eat there, and +was on the verge of homesickness." +</P> + +<P> +"We were mightily disappointed, too, at not getting back," said I +between mouthfuls. "Up there on the lakes we put in the toughest night +yet, and we were thinking of the venison and warm blankets down here at +camp." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard was much discouraged and depressed at our report of the +uncertain course of the river, although he was careful to conceal his +feelings from George. +</P> + +<P> +The next day (Sunday, August 16) we cut up our canvas guncases and used +some of the material to re-bottom our moccasins. What was left over we +put away carefully for future use. George cracked the caribou bones +and boiled out the marrow grease. He stripped the fat from the +entrails and tried out the tallow, preserving even the cracklings or +scraps. "We'll be glad to eat 'em yet," said he. One of the hoofs he +dressed and put with our store of meat. We preserved everything but +the head, the entrails and three of the hoofs. The tallow we found an +excellent substitute for lard. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon Hubbard and I caught thirty trout in an hour at the +rapid a mile and a half above our camp, and a few more in the river +close by the camp. High living during the day raised all of our +spirits. For breakfast we had the caribou heart, which George thought +at first he would roast but changed his mind and served stewed. For +dinner we had the tongue, the tidbit of the animal, boiled with pieces +of other parts. Hubbard's second bullet had torn out the centre of the +tongue, but what there was of it was delicious. And at night we had +the trout caught during the afternoon, to which, as a Sunday luxury, +was added a cake of bread. +</P> + +<P> +When we gathered around the fire in the evening Hubbard had entirely +recovered from his depression and took a more hopeful view of the +river. We discussed the matter thoroughly, and decided that the river +George and I had seen coming from the eastward must take a turn farther +north and break through the Kipling Mountains, and that it might prove +to be Low's Northwest River we all thought was possible. +</P> + +<P> +At the same time we could not disguise the fact that it was extremely +probable we should have to portage over the mountains, and the prospect +was far from pleasing; but, ragged and almost barefooted though we +were, not a man thought of turning back, and on Monday morning, August +17th, we prepared to leave Camp Caribou and solve the problem as to +where lay the trail of Michikamau. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII. "MICHIKAMAU OR BUST!" +</H3> + +<P> +The temperature was three degrees below freezing when grey dawn at half +past four o'clock that Monday morning bid us up and on. The crisp air +and the surpassing beauty of the morning stirred within us new hope and +renewed ambition. And the bags of jerked venison and the grease gave +us faith that we should succeed in reaching our goal. Though we had +some food in stock, there was to be no cessation in our effort to get +fish; our plan was for Hubbard to try his rod at the foot of every +rapid while George and I did the portaging. +</P> + +<P> +Before midday Hubbard had forty trout, one of them sixteen inches +long—the biggest we had caught yet. We stopped for luncheon on the +sandy shore of a pretty little lake expansion, and ate the whole +morning's catch, fried in caribou tallow, with unsweetened coffee to +wash it down. Then on we pushed towards the Kipling Mountains. At a +narrow strait between two lakes we left Hubbard to fish, George and I +going on two miles farther to the place where we had spent that chilly +night while scouting, and where our camp for this night was to be +pitched. +</P> + +<P> +Our object in going there was to give George another chance to view the +country on the other side of the mountain range. This time he was to +try another peak. As he disappeared up the mountain side, I paddled +back to get Hubbard, who was awaiting me with a good string of big +trout. The two-mile stretch of lake from where Hubbard was fishing to +our camping ground was as smooth as a sheet of glass. The sun hanging +low over the mountains and reflecting their nude forms in the silvery +water, and the dark green forest of fir trees on the shores moved +Hubbard to exclamations of delight. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, if it could be painted just as it appears now!" he said. "Why, +Wallace, this one scene is worth all the groaning we've done to get +here. It's grand! grand!" +</P> + +<P> +At dark George returned to camp with the report that from his peak he +could see only higher mountains looming up to the westward. In the +shadow of the grey rocks of the grim old mountains that so stubbornly +held their secret of what lay beyond, we had a good supper of trout and +were happy, though through the gulch the creek roared defiance at us, +and off in the night somewhere a loon would break out at intervals in +derisive laughter. At the base of the mountains the narrow lake +reflected a million stars, and in their kindly light the snow and ice +patches on the slopes above us gleamed white and brilliant. +</P> + +<P> +With our day's work the listlessness from which we had recently +suffered had entirely disappeared, and we felt ready to undertake any +task, the more difficult the better. Hubbard suggested giving up route +hunting if our river ended where we then were, and striking right +across the mountains with our outfit on our backs, and we received the +suggestion with enthusiasm. He talked, too, a great deal about +snowshoeing in winter to St. Augustine on the St. Lawrence, cutting +across country from the Kenemish River, which flows into Groswater Bay +opposite Northwest River Post. This trip, which he held out as a +possibility in the event of our missing the last steamer out from +Rigolet, seemed to appeal to him immensely. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care if we are too late for the steamer," he said; "that +snowshoeing trip would be a great stunt." +</P> + +<P> +We found a great many wigwam poles near and in the pass hard by our +camp, while by the creek we came across the remains of both summer and +winter camps, probably those of hunters. "One of the beggars was +high-toned," said George; "he had a stove." This was evidenced by the +arrangement of stones within the circle of wigwam poles, and a few +pieces of wood cut stove-size. +</P> + +<P> +On Tuesday morning (August 18) we turned back and into the long, narrow +lake expansions to the eastward, and soon satisfied ourselves that this +was the right course. Our thermometer registered 28 degrees that +morning. The day dawned clear and perfect; it was a morning when one +draws in long breaths, and one's nerves tingle, and life is a joy. +Early in the forenoon we reached rapids and quickly portaged around +them; all were short, the largest being not more than half a mile. At +ten o'clock we ate luncheon at the foot of one of the rapids where we +caught, in a few minutes, fourteen large trout. Just above this rapid +the river opened into long, narrow lakes, and the canoeing was superb. +Suddenly the river took a sharp turn to the westward, and appeared to +lead directly into the mountains. At that we sent up three rousing +cheers—the river problem seemed to be solved; apparently the road to +Michikamau lay straight before us. +</P> + +<P> +A little above the bend in the river we came upon an old gander and +goose and two unfeathered young. The gander with a great squawk and +flapping wings took to the bush, but we killed the old goose with a +rifle, and George "knocked over," as he expressed it, one of the young +ones with a pistol. More luck (and food) came to us a little later. +While George and I portaged around the last rapid that evening, Hubbard +caught fifty trout averaging over a pound each. They jumped greedily to +the fly, four or five rising at every cast. +</P> + +<P> +Above this rapid the river again took the form of a long, narrow +lake—a lake so beautiful that we were entranced. It was evening when +we arrived, and the very spirit of peace seemed to brood over the +place. Undoubtedly we were the first white men that had ever invaded +its solitude, and the first human beings of any kind to disturb its +repose for many years. On the north a barren, rocky bluff rose high +above the water; at all other places the shores were low and wooded. A +few miles to the westward could be seen the barren Kipling Mountains, +and between them and us was a ridge of low hills covered with +black-green spruce. The sun was setting in our faces as we paddled +slowly along the lake, and as it went down behind the mountains a veil +was gradually drawn over the lovely scene. Not a breath of air was +stirring, and hardly a sound broke the stillness save the ripple at the +bow of the canoe and the soft splash of the paddles. In the placid +waters two otters were swimming and diving. One was timid and remained +at a distance, but the other was bold and inquisitive and came close to +the canoe. Here and there all over the lake, its mirror-like surface +was broken by big jumping trout. Two loons laughed at us as we drew +the canoe on to the sandy beach of a low jutting point, and they +continued to laugh while we pitched our camp in the green woods near +the shore and prepared our supper of roast goose. It was a feast day. +With goose, plenty of trout and good water for paddling, it was a time +to eat, drink, and be merry. +</P> + +<P> +Our high spirits still remained when we broke camp in the morning +(Wednesday, August 19), but they were destined soon to be dashed. Not +long after we started we found ourselves in good-sized lakes, with arms +extending in every direction. All day we hunted for the river, but +found only small streams emptying into the lakes. The country now was +much rougher, and much more rocky and barren, than any we had seen +since we left the coast. The trees were more stunted and gnarled, and +the streams usually had a bed-rock bottom. In the course of the day +Hubbard shot three rock ptarmigans—"rockers," George called them. +They were the first we had seen, and were still wearing their mottled +summer dress; later in the season they are a pure, spotless white. +Towards evening we made our way to a point on the northwesterly part of +the lakes where a small stream came through a mountain pass, and there +went into camp. +</P> + +<P> +We were much disappointed at our failure to find the river, but not +disheartened. In order to make certain that we had not overlooked it, +we decided to paddle back the next day as far as the last rapid and +make one more careful search. Failing then to find the river, we +should portage through the mountain pass at the entrance to which we +had camped. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember," asked Hubbard, "the slogan of the old Pike's +Peakers?—'Pike's Peak or Bust?'" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said I; "and very often they busted." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Hubbard, "we'll adopt it and change it to our needs. +'Michikamau or Bust,' will be our watchword now." +</P> + +<P> +And sitting around the fire, we all took it up and repeated +determinedly, "Michikamau or Bust!" +</P> + +<P> +The morning of the next day (Thursday, August 20) we occupied in +mending our moccasins with parts of the caribou skin. George also took +the venison from the bags and hung it over the fire to give it a little +more drying, as it had begun to mould. In the afternoon Hubbard and I, +in accordance with the plan we had adopted, paddled back over our +course and re-explored the lower lakes. We discovered nothing new. +The fact was that these lakes were the source of the Beaver River. +</P> + +<P> +While we were paddling about we came upon two old and two young loons. +The old ones tried to lure us away from their young, by coming very +near the canoe. The young loons made frequent dives, but we succeeded +in catching one of them. Finally, however, we restored it to its +parents, and when the loon family was re-united there was great +rejoicing in the household. In the pool at the foot of the last rapid +we spent an hour fishing, and caught eighty-one trout, averaging, +perhaps, a half-pound each. Upon our return to camp in the evening we +dressed our catch and hung the fish to dry over a slow, smoky fire. +</P> + +<P> +The river having come to an end, our only course now was to cross the +mountains, and on Friday (August 21), with "Michikamau or Bust!" for +our slogan, we began our portage along the stream that flowed through +the pass near our camp. A heavy rain was falling. During the first +part of the day, in the course of which we crossed three small ponds, +the travelling was fairly good; but during the latter part it was +exceedingly rough and difficult. We pitched our tent that night on the +divide; in other words, we had reached the place where small streams +flowed both east and west. +</P> + +<P> +The cold rain continued when we broke camp the next morning (Saturday, +August 22). For a time we again encountered rough work, forcing a +passage over rocks and through thick brush and scrambling down high +banks, and then, as we neared the end of the pass, the portage became +less difficult. Before noon we came upon a lake of considerable size +and unmistakable signs that in directing our course through the pass we +had kept upon the old Indian trail. On the edge of the lake—we shall +call it Lake Hope—trees had been blazed to make plain the exact point +where the portage trail left the water, and near this place were sweat +holes where the medicine men had given baths to the sick. Much drift +wood showing axe cuttings was on the shore, and we picked up an old +canoe paddle of Indian make. All this led us to believe we were on +waters connected directly with Lake Michikamau (which was the fact), +and we thought that possibly we had reached a deep bay said to extend +from the main body of the lake some thirty miles in a southeasterly +direction. +</P> + +<P> +Where we launched our canoe the mountain pass was very narrow, and on +the southerly side, rising almost perpendicularly from the water to a +height of eight or nine hundred feet, stood a hill of absolutely bare +rock. The wind was blowing the rain in sheets over its face, and, +despite the wet and chill, we paused to enjoy the grandeur of the +scene. We had travelled about six miles through the pass, and this +hill marked its end; the mountain barrier that at one time seemed so +formidable had not proved so difficult to cross after all. And in +accomplishing the pass we had reached the great interior plateau—the +land that lay hidden behind the ranges. +</P> + +<P> +After we had paddled along Lake Hope a hundred yards, we struck a +sharp-pointed rock that tore a hole through the bottom of the canoe. +This accident forced us to take refuge on a near-by island where George +could repair the damage and procure gum from the spruce trees to cover +the patch. +</P> + +<P> +Sunshine came with Sunday morning (August 23), and we dried our +blankets and camp outfit before starting forward, so that it was after +ten o'clock when we quit the island. Lake Hope proved to be long and +narrow, and we soon realised that it could not be Michikamau's +southeast bay; but at the western end we hoped to find a strait +connecting it with another lake, and as we approached the western end +with a feeling of uncertainty as to what lay beyond, George remarked: +"It's like goin' into a room where there's a Christmas tree." +</P> + +<P> +Sure enough there was a strait, and as we turned into it, we saw beyond +big water stretching away to the westward for miles. "There's a +Christmas tree without a doubt," said Hubbard. We felt positive now +that this second lake was Michikamau's southeast bay, and we broke the +solemn stillness of the wilderness with three lusty cheers. It is +violating no confidence to say here that the second lake was not +Michikamau's southeast bay; it was simply the peculiarly-shaped body of +water that appears on my map under the name, Lost Trail Lake. +</P> + +<P> +Two and a half miles up Lost Trail Lake we climbed a barren ridge, +where we found blueberries, mossberries and bake-apple berries. The +latter berry is salmon-coloured, and grows on a plant resembling that +of the strawberry. The berry itself resembles in form the raspberry, +and has a flavour like that of a baked apple, from which fact it +derives its name. It ripens after the first frost. The mossberry is +small and black, resembling in shape and size the blueberry, and is +sweet and palatable after being touched with frost. It is usually +found on the moss clinging to rocks. On the ridge it grew in +abundance, and we ate a great many. The blueberry of Labrador is +similar to the blueberry of the United States. +</P> + +<P> +Some distance beyond where we got the berries we went into camp. +Trolling on the way, we caught a namaycush (lake trout), the first we +had seen on the trip. In our camp on Lost Trail Lake we were held all +of Monday (August 24) by a gale that beat the water into a fury. We +took advantage of the opportunity to try our gill net, sinking it on +the lee shore, but it was so rotten it would not hold a fish large +enough to get fast in it, and we finally threw it away as a useless +encumbrance. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the day Hubbard and climbed a hill not far away, while +I remained in camp to do some "chores." They found bake-apple berries +in abundance—the only spot we came across where they grew in any great +quantity—and had a good look at a lake we had previously sighted two +miles to the north. This lake was larger than the one we were on, +being about twenty-five miles long; it was, in fact, the largest body +of water by far that we had seen since leaving Grand Lake. Its size +impressed Hubbard with the fatal belief that it, rather than Lost Trail +Lake, was connected with Michikamau, and to it he decided to go. Our +experience there led us to call it Lake Disappointment. +</P> + +<P> +We portaged into it on Tuesday morning (August 25). Our course was +over a neck of land which was mostly soft marsh partially covered with +spruce. We did not know then that in abandoning Lost Trail Lake for +Lake Disappointment we were wandering from the Indian trail to +Michikamau. Some Indians I met during the winter at Northwest River +Post told me that a river flowed out of the western end of Lost Trail +Lake into the very southeast bay of Lake Michikamau we were longing so +much to see. This was the trail. And we lost it. +</P> + +<P> +We ate our luncheon on the southern shore of Lake Disappointment. That +afternoon and the next two days (August 26 and 27) we spent in paddling +about the lake in a vain search for a river. Thirty or more miles a +day we paddled, and found nothing but comparatively small creeks. One +of these we followed almost to its source, and then returned to the +lake again. We were living pretty well. While we were on these lakes +near the mountains we killed four geese and one spruce-grouse, and +caught about eighty half-pound trout, two two-pound namaycush and a +five-pound pike. +</P> + +<P> +The pike we got in this unsportsmanlike manner: We were fishing for +trout in a creek that emptied into Lake Disappointment in a succession +of falls, and found that while there were some above the lower fall, +none could be induced to rise where the creek at the foot of the lower +fall made an ideal pool for them. We were lunching on a rock near this +pool when Hubbard suddenly remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"There's only one reason why trout don't rise here." +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Pike," he answered laconically, and left his luncheon to fasten a +trolling hook on his trout line. After he had fixed a piece of cork to +the line for a "bobber," he baited the hook with a small live trout and +dropped it into the pool. "Now we'll have a pike," said he. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely had he resumed his luncheon when the cork bobbed under, and he +grabbed his rod to find a big fish on the other end. He played it +around until it was near the shore, and as it arose to the surface I +put a pistol bullet through its head. Then Hubbard hauled in the line, +and he had our five-pound pike. +</P> + +<P> +There were two occasions when we felt particularly like feasting. One +was when we were progressing with a clear course ahead and were happy, +and the other was when we were not sure of the way and were blue. That +night we were blue; so we had a feast of goose and pike. Hubbard +planked the pike, and it was excellent. All of our food was eaten now +without salt, but we were getting used to its absence. +</P> + +<P> +After our feast Hubbard astonished George and me by taking out a new +pipe I had brought along to trade with the Indians, and filling it with +the red willow bark George and I had been mixing with our tobacco. We +watched him curiously as he lighted it; for, with the exception of a +puff or two on a cigarette, he had never smoked before. He finished +the pipe without flinching. I asked him how he liked it. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty good," he said. Then after a pause he added: "And I'll tell +you what; if ever I start out again on another expedition of this sort, +I am going to learn to smoke; watching you fellows makes me believe it +must be a great comfort." +</P> + +<P> +George and I had been mixing red willow bark with our tobacco, because +our stock had become alarmingly low. In fact, it would have been +entirely gone had not Hubbard presented us with some black plug chewing +he had purchased at Rigolet to trade with the Indians. The plugs, +having been wet, had run together in one mass; but we dried it out +before the fire, and, mixed with the bark, it was not so bad. Later on +George and I took to drying out the tea leaves and mixing them with the +tobacco. +</P> + +<P> +On Wednesday morning (August 26) when we left camp to continue the +search for a river, we decided to leave the caribou skin behind us; its +odour had become most offensive, and in spite of our efforts to keep +out the flies they had filled it with blows and it was now fairly +crawling with maggots. On Thursday when we were passing the same way, +George gave a striking example of his prescience. He was at the stern +paddle, and turned the canoe to the place where we had left the hide. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you stopping for?" asked Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I would get that caribou skin, wash it off, and take it +along," said George. +</P> + +<P> +"What in the world do you expect to do with it? +</P> + +<P> +"Well," answered George quietly, "we may want to eat it some day." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard and I both laughed. Nevertheless Hubbard jumped out of the +canoe with George and helped him wash the skin, and we took it along. +And, as George predicted, the day came when we were glad we did. +</P> + +<P> +It was on Thursday night that, disgusted and weary, we gave up the +search for a river. Our camp was on the north shore of Lake +Disappointment, down near the western end. Hubbard now expressed the +opinion that we should have to portage north or northwest across +country. His idea was that by proceeding north we should eventually +reach the river that Low had mapped as flowing from Michikamau, the +so-called Northwest. If we reached the latitude in which the river was +supposed to be and could not find it, Hubbard's plan then called for +our turning directly west. +</P> + +<P> +The situation that confronted us was serious. Hubbard had recently had +another attack of diarrhoea, and was weak. The patches we put on our +moccasins would last only a day or two, and we were practically +barefoot. Our rags were hanging in strips. Our venison was going +rapidly, and our flour was practically gone. To portage across country +meant that we should probably not have many opportunities for fishing, +as we should not have any stream to follow. Getting game had proved +uncertain. Even were we to face towards home, we had not sufficient +provisions to carry us half way to Northwest River Post. +</P> + +<P> +That Thursday evening in camp we discussed the situation from all +sides. We knew that if we pressed on winter in all probability would +overtake us before we reached a post, but we decided that we should +fight our way on to Lake Michikamau and the George River. There was no +doubt about it, we were taking a long chance; nevertheless, we refused +to entertain the thought of turning back. Daring starvation, we should +on the morrow start overland and see what lay beyond the hills to the +northward. "Michikamau or Bust!" was still our slogan. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX. AND THERE WAS MICHIKAMAU! +</H3> + +<P> +From the northwesterly end of Lake Disappointment we portaged on Friday +(August 28) across a neck of land to two small, shallow lakes that lay +to the northward, and in the teeth of a gale paddled to the northern +shore of the farther lake. There we went into camp for the day in +order that Hubbard might rest, as he was still weak from the effects of +his recent illness. We took advantage of the opportunity to patch up +our moccasins and clothing as best we could, and held a long +consultation, the outcome of which was, that it was decided that for +the present, at least, we should leave behind us our canoe and the bulk +of our camp equipment, including the tent, and push on with light +packs, consisting of one blanket for each man, an axe, the two pistols, +one rifle, and our stock of food. +</P> + +<P> +Before us there apparently stretched miles of rough, rocky country. Our +equipment and stock of food at this time made up into four packs of +about 100 pounds each. The canoe, water-soaked and its crevices filled +with sand, must now have weighed nearly a hundred pounds. It was a +most awkward thing to carry over one's head when the wind blew, and +where there were rocks there was danger of the carrier falling and +breaking, not only the canoe, but his own bones. This meant that if +our entire outfit were taken along, practically every bit of land we +travelled would have to be covered twice. In leaving the canoe behind, +we, of course, should have to take chances on meeting intervening +lakes; but, once in the region of northern Michikamau, there seemed a +fair chance of our falling in with Indians that would take us down the +George River, and the advantages of light travel were obvious with +winter fast approaching. +</P> + +<P> +The stock of food we had to carry would not weigh us down. The dried +venison had been reduced to a few pounds, so that we had to eat of it +sparingly and make our principal diet on boiled fish and the water in +which it was cooked. We had just a bit of flour, enough to serve bread +at rare intervals as a great dainty. Nothing remained of our caribou +tallow and marrow grease. It is true we held in reserve the "emergency +ration"; but this consisted only of eighteen pounds of pea meal, a pint +of rice, and a small piece of bacon. This ration we had pledged +ourselves to use only in case of the direst necessity, should we be +compelled to make a forced retreat, and we felt we must not think of it +at this time as food on hand. +</P> + +<P> +In camp on Friday night I could see that Hubbard was worrying +considerably. Nervously active by habit, he found delay doubly hard. +The days we had spent on Lake Disappointment in a vain search for a +river had been particularly trying on his nerves, and had left him a +prey to many fears. The spectre of an early winter in this sub-Arctic +land began to haunt him constantly. The days were slipping away and +were becoming visibly shorter with each sunset. If we could get to the +Indians on the George, we should be safe; for they would give us warm +skins for clothing and replenish our stock of food. But should we meet +with more delays, and arrive on the George too late for the caribou +migration, and fail to find the Indians, what then? Well, then, our +fate would be sealed. Hubbard was the leader of the expedition and he +felt himself responsible, not only for his own life, but, to a large +extent, for ours. It is little wonder, therefore, that he brooded over +the possibilities of calamity, but with youth, ambition, and the ardent +spirit that never will say die, he invariably fought off his fears, and +bent himself more determinedly than ever to achieve the purpose for +which he had set out. Frequently he confided his fears to me, but was +careful to conceal all traces of them from George. +</P> + +<P> +In light marching order we went out on Saturday morning (August 29), +making rapid progress to the northward, through a thick growth of small +spruce timber and over a low ridge; but scarcely had we gone a mile +when we were compelled to halt. There in front of us was a small lake +extending east and west. It was not more than an eighth of a mile +across it, but a long distance around it. Back we went for the canoe, +and at the same time brought forward the whole camp outfit. Again we +tried light marching order, and again a lake compelled us to go back +for the canoe and outfit. And thus it was all day: a stretch of a mile +or so; then a long, narrow lake to cross, until finally we were forced +to admit that our plan of proceeding with light packs and without the +canoe was impracticable. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard was feeling stronger on Saturday evening, and we had a pleasant +camp. George made a big fire of tamarack, and we lay before it on a +couch of spruce boughs and ate tough boiled venison and drank the +broth; and, feeling we had made some progress, we were happy, despite +the fact that we were in the midst of a trackless wilderness with our +way to Michikamau and the Indians as uncertain as ever. +</P> + +<P> +Sunday morning (August 30) broke superbly beautiful, and the day +continued clear and mild. We made an early start; for every hour had +become precious. While we were doing this cross-country work without +any streams to guide us, it was George's custom to go ahead all the way +from half a mile to two miles and blaze a trail, so that when we were +travelling back and forth bringing up the packs and the canoe we might +not go astray. In the course of the morning we came to two small +lakes, which we paddled over. +</P> + +<P> +We had believed that our goose chases were over; for these birds now +having grown their feathers, could fly, and were generally beyond the +reach of our pistols and the uncertain aim of a rifle at anything on +the wing. For two days we had heard them flying, and now and then +would see them high in the air. But while we were crossing one of the +small lakes this Sunday, five geese walked gravely down the bank and +into the water ahead of the canoe. One of them we got with a pistol +shot; the others flew away. In another lake we reached late in the day +we came upon five or six ducks. They were not far away, but dived so +frequently we were unable to shoot them with pistol or rifle. A +shotgun might have enabled us to get nearly all the geese as well as +the ducks and other game we saw on the wing and in the water on other +occasions. We often expressed the regret that we had no shotgun with +us. At one time Hubbard had intended that one should be taken, but +later decided that the ammunition would be too bulky. +</P> + +<P> +A low, semi-barren ridge running east and west lay just beyond the +small blue-green lake in which we saw the ducks towards evening. About +seven miles beyond the ridge to the north was a short range of high, +barren mountains that were perhaps a trifle lower than the Kipling +Mountains. Upon ascending the ridge we heard the rushing of water on +the other side, which sound proved to come from a small fall on a +stream expanding and stretching out, to the eastward in long, narrow +lakes. Apparently these lakes were the headquarters of a small river +flowing to the southeast, and in all probability here was the source of +the Red River, which, as I have described, flows into the Nascaupee +some fifteen or eighteen miles above Grand Lake. +</P> + +<P> +The whole character of the country had now changed. It was very rocky +and steadily growing more barren. Ridges and hills extended to the +mountains on the north. Great boulders were piled in confusion behind +us and in front of us. Portaging over them had been most difficult and +dangerous. A misstep might have meant a broken leg, and as it was, the +skin had been pretty nearly all knocked off of our shins from the +instep to the knee. +</P> + +<P> +Below the fall we had discovered was a deep pool in which Hubbard +caught, with his emergency kit and a tamarack pole, twenty trout +averaging twelve inches in length. We camped near this pool. The hard +work of the day had brought on Hubbard another attack of his old +illness; apparently it was only by a great exertion of will-power that +he kept moving at all during the afternoon, and at night he was very +weak. Before supper he drank a cup of strong tea as a stimulant, and +was taken immediately with severe vomiting. +</P> + +<P> +Watching his suffering, the thought came to me whether, disregarding +all other considerations, I should not at this point strongly insist on +the party turning back. I was aware, however, of the grim +determination of the man to get his work done, and was convinced of the +uselessness of any attempt to sway him from his purpose. Moreover, I +myself was hopeful of our ability to reach the caribou grounds; I felt +sure that Hubbard's grit would carry him through. Looking back now, I +can see I should have at least attempted to turn him back, but I am +still convinced it would have been useless. I thoroughly believe only +one thing would have turned the boy back at that time—force. +</P> + +<P> +After this vomiting ceased, Hubbard said he felt better, but he ate +sparingly of the boiled fish we had for supper. George and I also felt +a bit weak, and our stomachs were continually crying out for bread or +some other grain food. As we reclined before the fire, Hubbard had +George tell us of various Indian dishes he had prepared. After he had +entered into these gastronomic details with great gusto, George +suddenly said: +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldje believe it, fellus?—I once threw away a whole batch of +cookies." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" we both cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Fact," said George. +</P> + +<P> +"For Heaven's sake," said Hubbard, "why did you do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said George, "it was when I first went cookin' in a surveyor's +camp. The cookies wasn't as good as I thought they ought to be, and I +was so ashamed of 'em that I took the whole lot out and buried 'em. +Supposin'," added George, in an awed whisper, "supposin' we had 'em +now!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why what in the world would you do with them?" asked Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"Um!" grunted George. "Well, I guess we'd find a way to use 'em, all +right." +</P> + +<P> +The story of the buried cookies started us all to talking of doughnuts, +and cake, and pie, and Hubbard extolled the merits of the chocolate +served at one of the New York hotels. +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace," he at length asked, "do you like pig's knuckles?" +</P> + +<P> +"I like," I replied, "anything that can be eaten." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," confided Hubbard, "I know a place down on Park Row where they +serve the best pigs' knuckles you ever ate. I used to go there for +them when I was on the old Daily News. They cook them just right, and +serve a big plate of nice greasy cabbage or sauerkraut with them, and a +cup of pretty good coffee. We'll have to go there some time when we +get back." +</P> + +<P> +And until it was time to go to sleep Hubbard continued to talk of the +good dinners he had eaten when a child and of those his wife had +recently prepared at his Congers home. +</P> + +<P> +As he had decided that before proceeding farther we should know +something of the country that lay to the northward, Hubbard on Monday +morning (August 31) sent George on a scouting trip to the short range +of mountains just ahead. He and I planned to spend the day catching +and drying fish. For some reason the fish refused to rise near the +camp, and Hubbard, who was so weak he could hardly stand, returned to +lie down, while I went farther down the stream. Towards luncheon-time I +returned with only two or three small fish. Hubbard was still resting +in the tent, but soon after I had begun to repair my fishing rod by the +fire he came out and joined me. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how glad I'll be, Wallace," he said, "to get to Michikamau and +finish my work here and get home again! I've been wondering when that +will be. I'm afraid," he added slowly, "I've been a bit homesick +to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll surely get there soon, old man," I said encouragingly, "and when +we do get there, we'll appreciate it more than ever. Just think how it +will be to eat good bread, and all we want of it." "Yes," he said, "and +then we'll be glad we came here, and can laugh at the recollection of +these terrible ridges, and the whole awful country, and the hard times +we've been through. I'm dead glad I had just you two fellows come with +me. If I'd had a single man that growled about the grub and work, or +wanted to quit, it would have been hell. But we haven't had a growl or +a word about quitting or turning back." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no reason for quitting," said I. "And as for growling, +there's no call for it. We've done the best we could, and that's +enough to make any real man satisfied." +</P> + +<P> +"That's so," said Hubbard. "Take things as they come and make the best +of them—that's good philosophy. I was thinking that here it is the +last of August, and we don't know where we are; and it bothered me some +as I lay there in the tent. But we've done our best and ought to be +satisfied." +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon I took my rod and went about three miles to the +westward, where I came upon an isolated pond with no apparent outlet. +Everywhere I could see the trout jumping, and by sundown had as long a +string of them as I could conveniently carry. It was an hour after +dark when I reached camp. George had returned, and they were beginning +to fear that I was lost. +</P> + +<P> +George had climbed the mountains, and he reported a fair line of travel +to the northwest, with a "long lake that looked like a river," and, +some distance northwest of that, "big water" and a tolerably good route +for portages. What he told us led Hubbard to decide to continue on +with the canoe and our entire outfit. George brought back with him two +grouse he had shot. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning (Tuesday, September 1) Hubbard was much better, and we +began September with a renewed effort. It was rough and painful +portaging over rocks and knolls. Every forty or fifty rods we came +upon deep ponds with water so clear we could see the pebbles on the +bottom. Between these ponds boulders were piled indiscriminately. In +directing our course to the northwest we avoided the mountains that had +lain just ahead. For two days we pushed on among the boulders, then +over a wide marsh and through a heavy spruce growth, which brought us, +on September 3d, to George's "lake that looked like a river." Let us +call it Mary Lake. +</P> + +<P> +Along Lake Mary we paddled, in the pouring rain that began that day, +some five miles to its western end; and there, near a creek that flowed +into it, we found the remains of an old Indian camp. George looked the +camp over critically and remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"The beggars killed two caribou, and they broke every bone up and +boiled out the last drop of grease." +</P> + +<P> +"What was it—a summer or a winter camp?" asked Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"A summer," said George. "And they'd been fishing, too. There's a +good fishing place—just try it!" +</P> + +<P> +We did try it, and we had a fairly good catch of large trout. For +supper we had a few of the trout boiled, together with the water, with +one spoonful of flour for each man stirred in. We ate the fish entire, +entrails, head, and all, and from that time on we let no part of the +fish we caught be thrown away. Everything now in the way of food +George divided carefully into three equal parts, even the fish broth. +By this time we had not enough flour on hand to make more than half a +dozen cakes of bread, and we continued to use only a spoonful or two a +day for each man, mixing it with game or fish broth; in this way we +hoped it would satisfy to some extent our craving for grain, and last +longer. +</P> + +<P> +As evening approached the sky cleared, and a big full moon tipped the +fir trees with silver and set Lake Mary to gleaming. The air was +filled with the perfume of the balsam and spruce, and it acted as a +tonic on our spirits and drove away the depression of the day's work in +the rain. Hubbard seemed to be as full of vim as ever, and all of us +were quite contented. +</P> + +<P> +Sitting on the couch of boughs, George looked up at the sky and said: +</P> + +<P> +"There's a fine Indian story about that moon." +</P> + +<P> +Of course Hubbard and I begged that he tell it to us. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said George, "it's a long story about a boy and girl that lived +together in a wigwam by a great water. Their father and mother were +dead, and the boy had learned to be a great hunter, because he had to +hunt for them both, though he was young. One day he found a tree that +was very high, and he climbed it, and told his sister to climb it with +him; and they climbed higher and higher, and as they climbed, the tree +grew taller and taller; and after a while they reached the moon. And +then the boy laid down to sleep, and after a while he woke up with a +bright light shinin' in his face—it was the sun passin' 'long that +way. The boy said he would set a snare for the sun and catch it, and +the next night he had his snare set when the sun came 'long, and he +caught the sun, and then it was always bright on the moon. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a lot more to that story," added George, after a pause, "and +I'll tell it to you some time; but it's too long and too late to tell +it to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Unfortunately we never heard the continuation of the tale. George +often hinted at interesting folklore stories about the milky way and +different stars, and various other things in nature; but this was the +nearest approach to a story we ever wrung from him. +</P> + +<P> +From our last camp on Lake Disappointment to our camp at the western +end of Lake Mary we had travelled about twenty-five miles. In leaving +the latter camp on September 4th we inclined our course directly west, +to reach the "big water" George had seen from his mountain. During the +next four days we encountered bad weather. As evening came on the sky +would clear and remain clear until morning, when the clouds and rain +would reappear. On the 4th there was sleet with the rain, and on the +6th we had our first snow, which soon was washed away, however, by rain. +</P> + +<P> +Our progress on the 4th was along the edge of a marsh between two low, +wooded ridges, and then over the marsh and through several ponds, upon +the shore of one of which we camped early in order that George might +climb a hill, view the country and decide upon the shortest and best +route to the "big water." He reported it about three miles ahead. +</P> + +<P> +It had been our rule to defer our bathing until the evening's chill had +quieted the flies, but now there was no need of that, as the colder +weather had practically killed them for the season. About this time I +noticed that Hubbard did not take his usual bath, and I remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"The weather is getting pretty cold for bathing in the open, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Hubbard; "but I wouldn't let that stop me if I weren't +ashamed of my bones. To tell you the truth, Wallace, I'm like a +walking skeleton." +</P> + +<P> +It was true. We were all very thin, but our lack of food told upon +Hubbard's appearance the most, as he was naturally slender. +</P> + +<P> +The "big water" George thought was only three miles away proved to be +like the wisp of hay that is held before the donkey's nose to lead him +on. Day after day we floundered through swamps and marshes, over +rocky, barren hills, and through thick growths of willows and alders, +and at the end of the day's journey it would apparently be as far off +as ever. The explanation was that in the rarefied atmosphere of +interior Labrador distances are very deceptive; when George reported +that the "big water" was three miles ahead it must have been fully +fifteen. +</P> + +<P> +On the 5th, while crossing the barrens we came upon some blueberries +and after eating our fill we were able to gather enough to supply each +man with a big dish of them for supper. We were working our way over +some bluffs on the afternoon of the 6th, when George, who was carrying +the canoe, became separated from Hubbard and me. The wind was blowing +hard, and he had difficulty in keeping the boat above his head. +Suddenly I heard a call, and, looking back, saw George running after +me, empty-handed. Hubbard did not hear the call, and went on. I +dropped my pack, and waited for George to come up. +</P> + +<P> +"You fellus better wait for me," he panted. "I can't manage the canoe +alone in the wind, and if we get separated, I might strike the lake one +place and you somewhere else. And," added George, sententiously, "you +fellus have got the grub." +</P> + +<P> +We shouted to Hubbard to wait, and when he answered, George and I +returned for the canoe. Hubbard, however, kept on, and George and I +carried the canoe ahead until we reached the thick woods into which he +had disappeared; then George went back for my pack. Presently we heard +Hubbard call from the depths of the woods, and a little later the sound +of an axe. +</P> + +<P> +As we learned later, he had dropped his pack, and was blazing a trail +towards us in order that he might find it again. He was as nervous as +George had been over his narrow escape from being permanently separated +from the rest of the party, and at a time when such a happening would +have had serious consequences for us all. Under the best of +circumstances, the prospect of being left alone in the midst of that +inhospitable wilderness was enough to appal. +</P> + +<P> +On the 7th we reached a creek, and launched the canoe. Hubbard went +ahead to fish below the rapids in the creek while George and I brought +down the canoe and outfit, making several short portages. That night we +camped two miles down the stream. Hubbard had caught, by hard work, +thirty small trout, half of which we ate for supper. +</P> + +<P> +We were still ravenously hungry after we finished the trout, but the +bag contained only one more meal of venison and we did not dare draw on +it. This, together with the difficulty we were having in reaching the +"big water," set Hubbard to worrying again. He was especially anxious +about the sufficiency of the material he had gathered for a story, +fearing that if he failed to reach the caribou grounds there would not +be enough to satisfy his publishers. I told him I thought he already +had enough for a "bang-up" story. +</P> + +<P> +"Anyway," I said, "we'll reach the caribou grounds, and see the Indians +yet. George and I will go with you to the last ditch; you can count on +us to the finish." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," said Hubbard, evidently relieved. "If you boys aren't +sick of it, it's on to the caribou grounds, late or no late. But I +feel I've got you fellows in a tight place." +</P> + +<P> +"We came with our eyes open," I replied, "and it's not your fault." +</P> + +<P> +On the morning of September 8th, following our stream out to a shoal, +rocky bay, we reached the "big water" at last. It was the great body +of water that I have mapped out as Windbound Lake. Forty miles we had +portaged from Lake Disappointment. We were practically out of food of +any kind. Looking over the great expanse of water stretching miles +away to the westward, we wondered what our new lake had in store for us +of hope and success, of failure and, despair. Would it lead us to +Michikamau? If not, what were we to do? +</P> + +<P> +On its farther shore, about twenty miles to the northwest, rose in +solemn majesty a great, grey mountain, holding its head high above all +the surrounding world. It shall be known as Mount Hubbard. To this +mountain we decided to paddle and view the country. Instinctively we +felt that Michikamau lay on the other side. We launched our canoe +after a light luncheon of trout and a small ptarmigan George had shot. +Once in the course of the afternoon we stopped paddling to climb a low +ridge near the shore and eat cranberries, which we found in abundance +on its barren top. From the ridge we could see water among the hills +in every direction. In the large lake at our feet were numerous wooded +islands. +</P> + +<P> +We camped at dusk on one of these islands, and on Wednesday, September +9th, launched our canoe at daybreak, to resume our journey to Mount +Hubbard. We reached its base before ten o'clock. Blueberries grew in +abundance on the side of the mountain, which, together with the country +near it, had been burned. One of us, it was decided, should remain +behind to pick berries, while the others climbed to the summit. I +volunteered for the berrypicking, but I shall always regret it was not +possible for me to go along. +</P> + +<P> +Before Hubbard and George returned, I had our mixing basin filled with +berries, and the kettle half full. The day was clear, crisp and +delightful—one of those perfect days when the atmosphere is so pure +and transparent that minute objects can be distinguished for miles. On +the earth and on the water, not a thing of life was to be seen. The +lake, relieved here and there with green island-spots; the cold rocks +of distant mountains to the northeast; the low, semi-barren ridges and +hills that we had travelled over bounding the lake to the eastward, and +a ridge of green hills west of the lake that extended southward from +behind Mount Hubbard as far as the eye could reach—all combined to +complete a scene of vast and solemn beauty; and I, alone on the +mountain side picking blueberries, felt an inexpressible sense of +loneliness—felt myself the only thing of life in all that boundless +wilderness-world. +</P> + +<P> +From the moment Hubbard and George had left me, I had not seen or heard +them. But up the mountain they went through the burnt spruce forest, +up for four miles over rocks, up and up to the top; and then to the +westernmost side of the peak they went and looked—looked to the West; +and there, only a few miles away, lay Michikamau with its ninety-mile +expanse of water—the lake we so long had sought for and fought so +desperately to reach. It was there, just beyond the ridge I had seen +extending to the southward. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X. PRISONERS OF THE WIND +</H3> + +<P> +It was four o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun was getting low, +that I, near the base of the mountain and still industriously picking +berries, heard a shout from Hubbard and George at the canoe on the +shore of the lake below. I was anxious to hear the result of their +journey, and hurried down. +</P> + +<P> +"It's there! it's there!" shouted Hubbard, as I came within talking +distance. "Michikamau is there, just behind the ridge. We saw the big +water; we saw it!" +</P> + +<P> +In our great joy we fairly hugged each other, while George stood apart +with something of Indian stoicism, but with a broad grin, nevertheless, +expanding his good-natured features. We felt that Windbound Lake must +be directly connected with Michikamau, and that we were now within easy +reach of the caribou grounds and a land of plenty. It is true that +from the mountain top Hubbard and George had been unable to trace out +the connection, as Windbound Lake was so studded with islands, and had +so many narrow arms reaching out in the various directions between low, +thickly-wooded ridges, that their view of the waters between them and +Michikamau was more or less obscured; but they had no doubt that the +connection was there. +</P> + +<P> +"And," added Hubbard, after I had heard all about the great discovery, +"good things never come singly. Look there!" +</P> + +<P> +I looked where he pointed, and there on the rocks near George's feet +lay a pile of ptarmigans and one small rabbit. I picked them up and +counted them with nervous joy; there were nine—nine ptarmigans, and +the rabbit. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," said Hubbard reverently, "God always gives us food when we +are really in great need, and He'll carry us through that way; in the +wilderness He'll send us manna." On similar occasions in the past +Hubbard had made like remarks to this, and he continued to make them on +similar occasions in the future. Invariably they were made with a +simplicity that robbed them of all cant; they came from the man's real +nature. +</P> + +<P> +While George dressed three of the birds, Hubbard and I built a fire on +the rocks by the shore. Since early morning, when we had a breakfast +of thin soup made with three thin slices of bacon and three spoonfuls +of flour, we had had nothing to eat, and our hunger was such, that +while dinner was cooking, we each took the entrails of a bird, wrapped +them as George told us the Indians did, on the end of a stick, broiled +them over the fire and ate them greedily. And when the ptarmigans were +boiled what a glorious feast we had! In using a bit of bacon for soup +in the morning we had drawn for the first time on our "emergency +ration"—the situation seemed to warrant it; nevertheless, we were as +bent as ever on hoarding this precious little stock of food. +</P> + +<P> +At five o'clock we paddled up the lake to the northeast, to begin our +search for the connection with Michikamau. Hubbard dropped a troll as +we proceeded, and caught two two-pound namaycush, which, when we went +into camp at dusk on a small island, George boiled entire, putting into +the pot just enough flour to give the water a milky appearance. With +this supper we had some of the blueberries stewed, and Hubbard said +they would have been the "real thing if we only had a little sugar for +them." +</P> + +<P> +All day on September 10th we continued our search for the connection +with Michikamau, finally directing our course to the southwest where a +mountain seemed to offer a view of the waters in that direction. It +was dark when we reached its base, and we went into camp preparatory to +climbing to the summit in the morning. We had been somewhat delayed by +wind squalls that made canoeing dangerous, and before we made camp rain +began to fall. We caught no fish on the troll that day, but Hubbard +shot a large spruce-grouse. At our evening meal we ate the last of our +ptarmigans and rabbit. +</P> + +<P> +"George," said Hubbard, after we had eaten our supper, "you have a few +more of mother's dried apples there. How would it be to stew them +to-night, and stir in a little flour to thicken them? Wouldn't they +thicken up better if you were to cook them to-night and let them stand +until morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guess they would," replied George. "There ain't many of 'em here. +Shall I put them all to cook? +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Hubbard, "put them all to cook, and we'll eat them for +breakfast with that small trout Wallace caught and the two ptarmigan +entrails." +</P> + +<P> +In the morning (September 11th) we drew lots for the trout, and George +won. So he took the fish, and Hubbard and I each an entrail, and, with +the last of the apples before us that Hubbard's mother had dried, sat +down to breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +"How well," said Hubbard, "I remember the tree on the old Michigan farm +from which these apples came! And now," he added, "I'm eating the last +of the fruit from it that I shall probably ever eat." +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said George, "don't you expect to get back to eat any more?" +</P> + +<P> +"That isn't it," replied Hubbard. "Father signed a contract for the +sale of the farm last spring, and they're to deliver the property over +to its new owners on the fifteenth of this month. Father wanted me to +come to the farm and run it, as he's too old to do the work any longer; +but I had other ambitions. I feel half sorry now I didn't; for after +all it's home to me, and always will be wherever I go in the world. +How often I've watched mother gathering these apples to dry! And then, +the apple butter! Did you ever eat apple butter, boys?" +</P> + +<P> +George had not, but I had. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," continued Hubbard, "there was an old woman lived near us who +could make apple butter better than anybody else. Mother used to have +her come over one day each fall and make a big lot for us. And, say, +but wasn't it delicious! +</P> + +<P> +"I've told you, Wallace, about the maple sugaring on the farm, and you +had some of the syrup I brought from there when I visited father and +mother before I came away on this trip. We used to bring to the house +the very first syrup we made in the spring, while it was hot—the +first, you know, is always the best—and mother would have a nice pan +of red hot tea biscuits, and for tea she'd serve the biscuits with +cream and the hot new syrup. And sometimes we'd mix honey with the +syrup; for father was a great man with bees; he kept a great many of +them and had quantities of honey. He had a special house where he kept +his honey, and in which was a machine to separate it from the comb when +the comb was not well filled. In the honey house on a table he always +had a plate with a pound comb of white clover honey, and spoons to eat +it with; and he invited every visitor to help himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Once, I remember, a neighbour called on father, and was duly taken out +to the honey house. He ate the whole pound. 'Will you have some +more?' asked father. 'Don't care if I do,' said the neighbour. So +father set out another pound comb, which the neighbour proceeded to put +out of sight with a facility fully equal to that with which he +demolished the first. 'Have some more,' said father. 'Thanks,' said +the neighbour, 'but maybe I've had enough.' I used to wonder how the +man ever did it, but I guess I myself could make two pounds of honey +disappear if I had it now." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard poured some tea in the cup that had contained his share of the +apple sauce, and after carefully stirring into the tea the bit of sauce +that clung to the cup, he poured it all into the kettle in which the +sauce had been cooked and stirred it again that he might get the last +bit of the apples from the tree on that far-away Michigan farm. Then +he poured it all back into his cup and drank it. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe it sweetened the tea just a little," he said, "and that's +the last of mother's sweet apples." +</P> + +<P> +Breakfast eaten, we had no dinner to look forward to. Of course there +was the "emergency ration," but we felt we must not draw on that to any +extent as yet. Hubbard was much depressed, perhaps because of his +reminiscences of home and perhaps because of our desperate situation. +We still had to find the way to Michikamau, and the cold rain that fell +this morning warned us that winter was near. +</P> + +<P> +The look from the mountain top near our camp revealed nothing, owing to +the heavy mist and rain. Once more in the canoe, we started southward +close to the shore, to hunt for a rapid we had heard roaring in the +distance. Trolling by the way, we caught one two-pound namaycush. The +rapid proved to be really a fall where a good-sized stream emptied into +the lake. We had big hopes of trout, but found the stream too shoal +and rapid, with almost no pools, and we caught only a dozen small ones. +</P> + +<P> +Towards evening we took a northwesterly course in the canoe in search +of the lake's outlet to Michikamau. While paddling we got a +seven-pound namaycush, which enabled us to eat that night. Our camp +was on a rock-bound island, partially covered with stunted gnarled +spruce and fir trees. The weather had cleared and the heavens were +bright with stars when we drew our canoe high upon the boulder-strewn +shore, clear of the breaking waves. The few small trout we had caught +we stowed away in the bow of the canoe, as they were to be reserved for +breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +Early in the morning (September 12th) we were awakened by a northeast +gale that threatened every moment to carry our tent from its +fastenings, and as we peered out through the flaps, rain and snow +dashed in our faces. The wind also was playing high jinks with the +lake; it was white with foam, and the waves, dashing against the rocks +on the shore, threw the spray high in the air. Evidently there was no +hope of launching the canoe that day, and assuming indifference of the +driving storm that threatened to uncover us, we settled down for a +much-needed morning sleep. At ten o'clock George crawled out to build +a fire in the lee of some bushes and boil trout for a light breakfast. +Soon he stuck his head in the tent, and his face told us something had +happened even before he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's too bad." +</P> + +<P> +"What's too bad?" asked Hubbard anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody's stole the trout we left in the canoe." +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" asked Hubbard and I together. +</P> + +<P> +"Otter or somebody—maybe a marten." (George always referred to +animals as persons.) +</P> + +<P> +We all went again to look and make sure the fish were not there +somewhere; but they were really gone, and we looked at one another and +laughed, and continued to make light of it as we ate a breakfast of +soup made of three little slices of bacon, with two or three spoonfuls +of flour and rice. +</P> + +<P> +We occupied the day in talking—visiting, Hubbard called it—and +mending. Hubbard made a handsome pair of moccasins, using an old flour +sack for the uppers and a pair of skin mittens for the feet. George did +some neat work on his moccasins and clothing, and I made my trousers +look quite respectable again, and ripped up one pair of woollen socks +to get yarn to darn the holes in another. Altogether it was rather a +pleasant day, even though Hubbard's display of his beautiful new +moccasins did savour of ostentation and thereby excite much +heartburning on the part of George and me. +</P> + +<P> +Our second day on the island was Sunday, September 13th. We awoke to +find that the wind, rain, and sleet were still with us. Our breakfast +was the same as all our meals of the previous day—thin bacon soup. +The morning we spent in reading from the Bible. Hubbard read Philemon +aloud and told us the story. I read aloud from the Psalms. George, +who received his religious training in a mission of the Anglican Church +on James Bay, listened to our reading with reverent attention. +</P> + +<P> +Towards noon the storm began to moderate, and in a short stroll about +the island we found some blueberries and currants, which we fell upon +and devoured. At one o'clock the wind abated to such an extent that we +succeeded in leaving the island and reaching the mainland to the +northeast. The wind continuing to abate, we paddled several miles in +the afternoon looking in vain for the outlet. In the course of our +search we caught a namaycush, and immediately put to shore to eat it. +While it was being cooked we picked nearly a gallon of cranberries on a +sandy knoll. We camped near this spot, and for supper had a pot of the +cranberries stewed, leaving enough for two more meals. +</P> + +<P> +For several days past now, when George and I were alone, he had +repeated to me stories of Indians that had starved to death, or had +barely escaped starvation, and a little later he spoke of these things +in Hubbard's presence. To me he would tell how weak he was becoming, +and how Indians would get weaker and weaker and then give up to it and +die. He also spoke of how he had heard the big northern loons cry at +night farther back on the trail, which cries, he said, the Indians +regarded as sure signs of coming calamity. At the same time he was +cheerful and courageous, never suggesting such a thing as turning back. +His state of mind was to me very interesting. Apparently two natures +were at war within him. One—the Indian—was haunted by superstitious +fears; the other—the white man—rejected these fears and invariably +conquered them. In other words, the Indian in him was panicky, but the +white man held him fast. And in seeing him master his superstitious +nature, I admired him the more. +</P> + +<P> +Until this time it had been Hubbard's custom to retire to his blankets +early, while George and I continued to toast our shins by the fire and +enjoy our evening pipe. Then George would turn in, and I, while the +embers died, would sit alone for an hour or so and let my fancy form +pictures in the coals or carry me back to other days. In our Sunday +night's camp on Windbound Lake, however, Hubbard sat with me long after +George was lost in sleep, and together we talked of the home folks and +exchanged confidences. +</P> + +<P> +I observed now a great change in Hubbard. Heretofore the work he had +to do had seemed almost wholly to occupy his thoughts. Now he craved +companionship, and he loved to sit with me and dwell on his home and +his wife, his mother and sister, and rehearse his early struggles in +the university and in New York City. Undoubtedly the boy was beginning +to suffer severely from homesickness—he was only a young fellow, you +know, with a gentle, affectionate nature that gripped him tight to the +persons and objects he loved. Our little confidential talks grew to be +quite the order of things, and often as the days went by we confessed +to each other that we looked forward to them during all the weary work +hours; they were the bright spots in our dreary life. +</P> + +<P> +A tremendous gale with dashes of rain ushered in Monday morning, +September 14th. Again we were windbound, with nothing to do but remain +where we were and make the best of it. A little of our thin soup had +to serve for breakfast. Then we all slept till ten o'clock, when +Hubbard and I went out to the fire and George took a stroll through the +bush on the shore, in the hope of seeing something to shoot. While I +cleaned my rifle and pistol, Hubbard and I chatted about good things to +eat and the days of yore. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Wallace," he said, "I suppose that father and mother are to-day +leaving the old farm forever, and that I never can call it home again. +I dreamed of it last night. Over fifty years ago father cleared that +land when he was a young man and that part of Michigan was a +wilderness. He made a great farm of it, and it has been his home ever +since. How I hate to think of them going away and leaving it to +strangers who don't love it or care more for it than any other plot of +ground where good crops can be raised! Daisy [his sister] and I grew +up together there, and I used to tell her my ambitions, and she was +always interested. Daisy gave me more encouragement in my work than +anyone else in the world. I'd never have done half so well with my +work if it hadn't been for Daisy." +</P> + +<P> +After a moment's silence, he continued: +</P> + +<P> +"That hickory cleaning rod for the rifle we lost on a portage on the +big river [the Beaver] father cut himself on the old farm and shaped it +and gave it to me. That's the reason I hated so to lose it. If we go +back that way, we must try to find it. Father wanted to come with me +on this trip; he wanted to take care of me. He always thinks of me as +a child; he's never quite realised I'm a grown man. As old as he is, I +believe he could have stood this trip as well as I have. He was a +forty-niner in California, you know, and has spent a lot of his life in +the bush." +</P> + +<P> +When George returned—empty-handed, alas!—we had our dinner. The menu +was not very extensive—it began with stewed cranberries and ended +there. The acid from the unsweetened berries made our mouths sore, +but, as George remarked, "it was a heap better than not eatin' at all." +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps I should say here that these were the hungriest days of our +journey. What we suffered later on, the good Lord only knows; but we +never felt the food-craving, the hunger-pangs as now. In our enforced +idleness it was impossible for us to prevent our thoughts from dwelling +on things to eat, and this naturally accentuated our craving. Then, +again, as everyone that has had such an experience knows, the pangs of +hunger are mitigated after a certain period has been passed. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon George and I took the pistols and ascended a low ridge +in the rear of the camp to look for ptarmigans. Soon George exclaimed +under his breath: +</P> + +<P> +"There's two! Get down low and don't let 'em see you; the wind blows +so they'll be mighty wild. I'll belly round to that bush over there +and take a shot." +</P> + +<P> +He crawled or wriggled along to the bush, which was the nearest cover +and about forty yards from the birds. With a dinner in prospect, I +watched him with keen anxiety. I could see him lying low and carefully +aiming his pistol. Suddenly, bang!—and one of the birds fluttered +straight up high in the air, trying desperately to sustain itself; then +fell into the brush on the hillside below. At that George raised his +head and gave a peculiar laugh—a laugh of wild exultation—an Indian +laugh. He was the Indian hunter then. I never heard him laugh so +again, nor saw him look quite as he did at that moment. As the other +bird flew away, he rose to his feet and shouted: +</P> + +<P> +"I hit 'im!—did you see how he went? Now we'll find 'im." +</P> + +<P> +But we didn't. We beat the bushes high and low for an hour, and +finally in disappointment and disgust gave up the search. The bird lay +there dead somewhere, but we never found it, and we returned to camp +empty-handed and perhaps, through anticipation, hungrier than ever. +</P> + +<P> +On Tuesday (September 15th) the high west wind had not abated, and the +occasional sleet-squalls continued. We were dreary and disconsolate +when we came out of the tent and huddled close to the fire. For the +first time Hubbard heard George tell his stories of Indians that +starved. And there we were still windbound and helpless, with stomachs +crying continually for food. And the caribou migration was soon to +begin, if it had not already begun, and there seemed no prospect of the +weather clearing. +</P> + +<P> +We made an inventory of the food we were hoarding for an emergency, and +found that in addition to about two pounds of flour, we had eighteen +pounds of pea meal, a little less than a pint of rice, and a half a +pound of bacon. George then told another story of Indians that +starved. At length he stopped talking, and we sat silent for a long +while, staring blankly at the blazing logs. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly the minutes crawled. In great gusts the wind swept down, +howling dismally among the trees and driving the sleet into our faces. +Still we sat cowering in silence when Hubbard arose, pushed the loose +ends of the partially burned sticks into the fire and stood with his +back to the blaze, apparently deep in thought. Presently, turning +slowly towards the lake, he walked down through the intervening brush +and stood alone on the sandy shore contemplating the scene before +him—the dull, lowering skies, the ridges in the distance, the lake in +its angry mood protesting against his further advance, the low, wooded +land that hid the gate to Michikamau. +</P> + +<P> +Weather-beaten, haggard, gaunt and ragged, he stood there watching; +then seemed to be lost completely in thought, forgetful of the wind and +weather and dashing spray. Finally he turned about briskly, and, with +quick, nervous steps, pushed through the brush to the fire, where +George and I were still sitting in silence. Suddenly, and without a +word of introduction, he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Boys, what do you say to turning back?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI. WE GIVE IT UP +</H3> + +<P> +For a moment I was dazed at the thought—the thought of turning back +without ever seeing the Indians or caribou hunt, and I could not speak. +George, however, soon found his tongue. He was still willing to go on, +if need be, and risk his life with us. +</P> + +<P> +"I came to go with you fellus," he said, "and I want to do what you +fellus do." +</P> + +<P> +"But," I said to Hubbard, "don't you think it will be easier to reach +the Indians on the George, or even the George River Post, than +Northwest River Post? We must surely be near the Indians; we shall +probably see the smoke of their wigwams when we reach Michikamau. It +is likely we shall find them camping on the big lake—either +Mountaineers or Nascaupee—and if we get to them they'll surely help +us." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," answered Hubbard, "if we get to them they'll help us; but these +miserable westerly and northwesterly gales may keep us on these waters +indefinitely, or even on the shore of Michikamau at a spot where we may +not be able to launch our canoe or reach the Indians for days, and that +would be fatal. The caribou migration is surely begun, and perhaps is +over already, and there's no use in going ahead." +</P> + +<P> +I saw his point and acquiesced. "I suppose it's best to turn back as +soon as the wind will let us," I said; "for it's likely to subside only +for a few hours at a time at this season, and perhaps if we don't get +out when we can, we may never get out at all. But what does George +say?" I asked, turning to our plucky companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said he, "I'd like to turn back, and I think it's safest; but I'm +goin' to stick to you fellus, and I'm goin' where you go." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Hubbard, "what's the vote?—shall we turn back or go on?" +</P> + +<P> +"Turn back," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, then" he replied quietly; "that's settled." +</P> + +<P> +The decision reached, George's face brightened perceptibly, and I must +confess we all felt better; a great burden seemed to have been lifted +from our shoulders. It had required courage for Hubbard to acknowledge +himself defeated in his purpose, but the acknowledgment once made, we +thought of only one thing—how to reach home most quickly. Hubbard was +now satisfied that the record of our adventures would make a "bully +story," even without the material he had hoped to gather on the George, +and his mind being easy on that point, he discussed with animation +plans for the homeward trip. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll have to catch some fish here," he said, "to take us over the +long portage to Lake Disappointment. We ought to be able to dry a +good bit of namaycush, and on the way we'll probably have a good catch +of trout at the long lake [Lake Mary], and another good catch where I +used the tamarack pole. And then when we get to Lake Disappointment we +ought to get more namaycush." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said I; "and the berries should help us some." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think the chances of getting caribou are?" Hubbard asked +George. +</P> + +<P> +"We saw some comin' up," replied George, "and there ought to be more +now; I guess we'll find 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"If we kill some caribou," continued Hubbard, "I think we'd better turn +to and build a log shack, cure the meat, make toboggans and snowshoes, +wait for things to freeze up, and then push on to the post over the +snow and ice. We can get some dogs at the post, and we'll be in good +shape to push right on without delay to the St. Lawrence. It'll make a +bully trip, and we'll have lots of grub. What would we need to get at +the post, George?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said George, "we'd need plenty of flour, pork, lard, beans, +sugar, tea, and bakin' powder; and we might take some condensed milk, +raisins, currants, rice, and molasses, and I'd make somethin' good +sometimes." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a good idea," said Hubbard, whose mouth was evidently watering +even as mine was. "And we might take some butter, too. And how would +oatmeal go for porridge?—don't you think that would be bully on a cold +morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," assented George; "we could eat molasses on it, or thin up the +condensed milk." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall probably have caribou meat that we can take along frozen," +Hubbard went on. "Frozen caribou meat is bully; it's better than when +it's fresh killed. Did you ever eat any, Wallace?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said I; "the only caribou meat I've ever eaten was what we've had +here." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," said Hubbard, "there's a rare treat in store for you. The +first I ever ate was on my Lake St. John trip. The Indian I had with +me used to chop off pieces of frozen caribou with an axe, and fry it +with lard, and we'd just drink down the grease. It was fine." +</P> + +<P> +"It's great," said George. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Hubbard, coming back to the present, "I'm dead glad we've +decided to strike for the post. If this wind will ever let up, we must +get at it and catch some fish. I lay awake most of last night thinking +it all over and planning it all." +</P> + +<P> +"I was awake most of the time, too," said George; "my feet were mighty +cold." +</P> + +<P> +There was no fishing on the day we decided to turn back, as the wind +confined us to camp, and all we had to eat was rice and bacon soup; but +our anticipations of home to some extent overcame the clamour of our +stomachs, and we passed the time chatting about the things we intended +to do when we regained "God's country." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to take a vacation," said Hubbard. "I'll visit father and +mother, if they're in the east, and sister Daisy, and maybe go to +Canada with my wife and stay a little while with her people. What will +you do, boys?" +</P> + +<P> +I told of my plans to visit various relatives, and then George +described a trip he was going to make to visit a sister whom he had not +seen since he was a little boy, closing the description with a vivid +account of the good things he would have to eat, and what he would cook +himself. It was always so—no matter what our conversation was about, +it sooner or later developed into a discussion of gastronomy. +</P> + +<P> +In the evening Hubbard had me make out a list of the restaurants we +intended to visit when we got back to New York and take George to. I +have the list yet, but since my return I have never had the heart to go +near any of the places it mentions. From the talk about restaurants +Hubbard suddenly turned to lumber camps, asking George and me if we had +ever visited one. We replied that we had not, and wondered what had +brought lumber camps into his mind. We soon learned. +</P> + +<P> +"You've missed something," he said. "We'll make it a point to call at +Sandy Calder's camp when we go back, and make him give us a feed of +pork and beans and molasses to sop our bread in. They're sure to have +them." +</P> + +<P> +"Do they have cake and pie?" asked George. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, in unlimited quantities; and doughnuts, too—at least they used +to in the Michigan lumber camps I've visited." +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds good," I remarked—"the pork and beans and molasses, best +of all. When I was a boy I was fond of bread and molasses—good, black +molasses—but I haven't eaten any since. I'd like to have a chance at +some now." +</P> + +<P> +"So should I," said Hubbard; "I'd just roll my bread in it lumberjack +fashion." +</P> + +<P> +"Do they have gingerbread in the camps?" asked George. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Hubbard; "gingerbread is always on the table." +</P> + +<P> +"How do they make it? +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't just know; but I'll tell you what, George—if you want +to know, I'll ask Mrs. Hubbard to show you when we get home, and I know +she'll be delighted to do it. She's the best cook I ever knew." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think she would mind?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no; she'd be very glad to do it. You must stop at our house for a +while before you go back to Missanabie, and she will teach you to cook +a good many things." +</P> + +<P> +And so our conversation continued until we turned to our blankets and +sought the luxury of sleep, I to dream I was revelling in a stack of +gingerbread as high as a house that my sisters had baked to welcome me +home. +</P> + +<P> +To our ever-increasing dismay, the northwest gale continued to blow +almost unceasingly during the next few days. Sometimes towards evening +the wind would moderate sufficiently to permit us to troll with +difficulty along the lee shore of an island, but seldom were we +rewarded with more than a single namaycush, and so far from our getting +enough fish to carry us over our long portage to Lake Disappointment, +we did not catch enough for our daily needs, and were compelled to draw +on our little store of emergency provisions. On Wednesday (September +16th) we ate the last bit of bacon and the last handful of rice we had +so carefully hoarded. We succeeded that day in reaching the rapid +where we caught the few trout that some animal stole from us, and there +we camped. From this point we believed we could more readily gain the +bay where we had entered the lake, and begin our retreat when the wind +subsided. +</P> + +<P> +The Canada jay, a carrion bird about the size Of a robin that is +generally known through the north as the "whiskey jack," had always +hovered about our camps and been very tame when, in the earlier days of +our trip, we had refuse to throw away; but now these birds called at us +from a greater distance, seeming to know we were looking at them with +greedy eyes. George told us that their flesh had saved many an Indian +from starvation, and that the Indians looked upon them with a certain +veneration and would kill them only in case of the direst need. Our +compunctions against eating carrion birds had entirely disappeared, and +the course of the whiskey jacks in holding aloof from camp when they +were most needed used to make George furious. +</P> + +<P> +"See the blamed beggars!" he would ejaculate. "Just look at 'em! We've +been feedin' 'em right long, and now when it's their turn to feed us, +look at 'em go!" +</P> + +<P> +On Thursday (September 17th) George got his revenge. Stealthily he +crept upon a whiskey jack in the bush and shot it with a pistol. +"They're pretty tough," he said, upon returning with his prize to camp, +"and will take a long time to cook." We did not care for that; we ate +that bird, bones and all, stewed in a big pot of water with two or +three spoonfuls of flour and an equal amount of pea meal. +</P> + +<P> +That was our breakfast. We had no luncheon; for although we spent the +entire day trolling up and down the lee shore, it was not until evening +that we caught any fish. The wind was icy and set us all a-shiver, our +hands were benumbed by the cold water, and we were just beginning to +despair when we landed a two-pound namaycush, and a little later a +five-pounder. Then, wet to the skin and chilled to the bone, we +paddled back to camp, to cheer ourselves up with a good fire and a +supper of one-third of the larger fish, a dish of stewed sour +cranberries and plenty of hot tea. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel more satisfied every time I think of our decision to turn +back," said Hubbard, as, with supper eaten, we reclined comfortably +before the fire. "I had a pretty hard night of it though, on Monday; +for I hated to turn back without seeing the Indians." +</P> + +<P> +"I was awake thinkin' about it, too," said George. "I told you about +havin' cold feet, and that they kept me awake." He paused, and we felt +that something was coming. At length out it came: "Well, they did, but +that wind out in the lake kept me awake more than the cold feet. I +knew that wind was makin' the huntin' good down the bay, the game was +comin' down there now, and the young fellus I used to hunt with had +been wishin' for this very wind that was keepin' us here, and they were +glad to see it, and were out shootin' waveys [a species of wild goose]; +and here we boys was, up against it for sure." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard and I had to laugh at George's confession, and we joked him a +little about being homesick. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Hubbard, "we'll soon get away now; this wind must let up +some time. Talking about the bay reminds me that I want to arrange for +a trip to Hudson's Bay next summer. I want a nice, easy trip that I +can take Mrs. Hubbard on. I'd like to go up early and return in the +fall, and maybe get some wavey shooting. Could you get one or two good +men besides yourself to go with us, George?" +</P> + +<P> +George said he thought he could, and after Hubbard had invited me to +make one of the party, they went into minute details as to the food +they would take with them, planning an elaborate culinary outfit. +</P> + +<P> +Just before George went to bed, Hubbard and I, using the trees that +stood close to the fire for a support, stretched a tarpaulin over our +heads, to shelter us from the rain and sleet. Beyond the circle of our +bright-blazing fire the darkness was profound. As the wind in great +blasts swept over the tops of the trees, its voice was raised to +piercing shrieks that gradually died away into low moans. We thought +of the vast wilderness lying all about us under the pall of a moonless +and starless night. Where had all the people in the world gone to, +anyway? +</P> + +<P> +But, sitting there on our couch of boughs beneath the tarpaulin, in the +grateful warmth of the high-leaping flames, we found it very cosey. +And we talked of the places and persons that were somewhere beyond the +solitudes. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't mind sitting here for a while and chatting, do you, b'y?" +said Hubbard. "It's very cold and shivery in the tent." "B'y" was a +word we had picked up from the Newfoundland fishermen, who habitually +use it in addressing one another, be the person addressed old or young. +At first Hubbard and I called each other "b'y" in jest, but gradually +it became with us a term almost of endearment. +</P> + +<P> +"No, b'y," I answered; "I would much rather be out here with you than +in the tent." +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking," said Hubbard, "of how I loved, in the evening after +dinner last winter, to sit before the wood fire in our grate at +Congers, and watch the blaze with Mina [Mrs. Hubbard] near me. What a +feeling of quiet, and peace, and contentment, would come to me +then!—I'd forget all about the grind at the office and the worries of +the day. That's real happiness, Wallace—a good wife and a cheerful +fireside. What does glory and all that amount to, after all? I've let +my work and my ambition bother me too much. I've hardly taken time for +my meals. In the morning I'd hurry through breakfast and run for my +train. I haven't given my wife and my home the attention they deserve. +That wife of mine, Wallace, deserves a great deal of attention. She's +always thinking of my comfort, and doing things to please me, and +cooking things I like. But I must be boring you with all this talk +about my own affairs." +</P> + +<P> +"No, b'y," I said; "I like to hear about them. I've always been +interested in witnessing how happy you and your wife have been +together." +</P> + +<P> +"She's been a good wife to me, Wallace; and as time has gone on since +our marriage we've grown closer and closer together." +</P> + +<P> +"I see you're like every other man that gets a good wife—you've found +the real key to the house of a man's happiness." +</P> + +<P> +"That's so. A single man, or a man with an uncongenial wife whom he +doesn't love and who doesn't love him, may be as rich as Croesus, and +gain all the honours in the world, and he won't possess an atom of the +happiness of a poor man congenially married. Did I ever tell you about +the day I was married?—the trouble I had?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't remember that you did. Although I suspected something unusual +on foot, I didn't hear of your marriage until after the deed was done. +You didn't take me into your confidence, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"That was because we had never camped together then, b'y. If we had +camped together, I'd have told you all about it. Mina and I had not +intended to get married so soon. We were to have been married in the +spring, but that January I received an assignment for a trip through +the South, and I knew it would keep me away until after our wedding +date. I didn't want to postpone the wedding, so I decided, if I could +get Mina's consent, to make my trip our honeymoon. She was at her +parents' home in Canada, and there was no time to lose, and I +telegraphed asking her to come on at once and get married. She was a +brick and consented, and then I was in such a nervous state of +anticipation I was afraid the folks where I was stopping would discover +something was up, so the day before I expected Mina to arrive I ran +over to Jersey to spend the night with my old friend Dr. Shepard, the +minister. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mina's train was due at the Grand Central Station early in the +morning, and I had to catch a train from Jersey a little after five +o'clock to meet her. I was afraid I'd oversleep, and I kept awake +nearly all night. Long before the train was due I was down at the +station and took a seat in the waiting room. And what do you suppose I +did?" +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said Hubbard, with a cheerful grin, "I fell to thinking so hard +about what was going to happen that I sat there in the station and let +the train I was so afraid to lose come and go without ever hearing it." +</P> + +<P> +Under the sleet-covered tarpaulin, there in the interior of Labrador, +Hubbard and I laughed heartily. +</P> + +<P> +"And was the bride-elect kept waiting?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Hubbard; "I hustled over a couple of miles to another line +and got a train there, and as Mina fortunately didn't arrive as early +as expected, I was in time." +</P> + +<P> +The fire had died down and the darkness was beginning to close in upon +us. I arose to renew the fire, and when the logs had begun to blaze +again, and I had resumed my seat, I saw that the drawn and haggard look +had returned to Hubbard's face, and that he was staring wistfully out +over the fire into the impenetrable gloom. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, b'y?" I said. +</P> + +<P> +"That was a great trip, Wallace—that southern trip. I want to visit +some of the places again with Mina and live over our honeymoon. And," +he went on—"yes, I want some more of the good southern cooking. You +ought to eat their cornbread, Wallace!—there's nothing like it +anywhere else in the world. They cook corn meal in a dozen ways, from +corn pone to really delicate dishes. And they know how to cook +chickens, too. Their chickens and yams and cornbread are great. It +makes my mouth water to think of even the meals I've eaten in the +mountaineers' cabins—wild hog, good and greasy; wild honey, hoecake, +and strong black coffee. When I get home I'm going to experiment in +camp with cooking corn meal, and I've got an idea that a young sucking +pig roasted before the fire like George roasted the goose would be +great." +</P> + +<P> +There we were, plunged once more into a discussion about food, and it +was after midnight when the talk about roasting pigs, and stuffing +pigs, and baking this, and baking that, came to an end. Even then +Hubbard was loath to seek the tent, it was so "cold and shivery"; but +he expressed himself as being fairly comfortable when he had followed +my example and toasted himself thoroughly before the fire immediately +before turning in with a pair of socks on his feet that had been hung +up to warm. +</P> + +<P> +On Friday (September 18th) a fierce northwest gale again kept us on the +lee shore, and all we got on the troll was a three-quarter-pound +namaycush. Hubbard and I also fished conscientiously at the rapid near +which we were still camping, and our combined efforts yielded us only +two eight-inch trout and a twenty-inch trout. Trying as we were to get +fish ahead for our long portage, it was most depressing. +</P> + +<P> +Despite the steady gnaw, gnaw at the pit of our stomachs, we had cut +down our meals to the minimum amount of food that would keep us alive; +we were so weak we no longer were sure where our feet were going to +when we put them down. But all the fish we had to smoke was two or +three. And on Friday night we ate the last bit of our flour; it was +used to thicken the water in which we boiled for supper some entrails, +a namaycush head and the two little trout we had caught during the day. +</P> + +<P> +All that night the northwest gale was accompanied by gusts of rain and +snow. On Saturday (September 19th) the mercury dropped to 32 degrees, +and the air was raw. Not a single fish were we able to catch. George +and I smoked a pipe for breakfast, while Hubbard imbibed the +atmosphere. A bit of the smoked fish we had hoped to keep, boiled with +a dash of pea meal in the water, did us for luncheon and supper. +</P> + +<P> +Heretofore we had slept each rolled in his own blanket, but it was so +cold in the tent that night we had to make a common bed by spreading +one blanket beneath us on a tarpaulin and lying spoon-fashion with the +other two blankets drawn over us. The blankets were decidedly narrow +for three men to get under, and it was necessary for us to lie very +close together indeed; but our new method enabled us to keep fairly +warm and we continued its use. +</P> + +<P> +On Sunday (September 20th) the temperature dropped to 29 and the +squalls continued. In desperation we broke camp in the morning and +tried to cross the lake with our outfit, but the wind soon drove us +back to shelter. While we were out on the lake we caught a namaycush +on the troll, and this fish we had for luncheon, together with some +cranberries we found on a ridge near where we had taken refuge on the +shore. A little later I was attacked with vomiting and faintness. +When I tried to swing an axe, I reeled and all but lost consciousness. +</P> + +<P> +Late in the afternoon the squalls subsided, and we made another attempt +to escape from the prison in which we were slowly starving. Fortunately +the wind continued fair and there were no cross-seas; and on and on we +paddled in the direction of—home! Oh, the great relief of it! For +nearly two weeks we had been held on that dreadful lake. Day after day +the relentless storm had raged, while hunger leered at us and tormented +us with its insistent clamour as we, with soaked rags and shivering +bodies, strove vainly to prevent the little stock of food from +diminishing that we felt was our only hold on life. And now we were +going home! +</P> + +<P> +Darkness had long since fallen when we reached an island near the point +where we had entered the lake. In a driving rain we pitched our camp. +For supper we had the last of the little stock of fish that we had been +able to dry. This meant that, in addition to our stock of tea, the +only food we had left on hand was sixteen pounds of pea meal. But we +did not worry. We were going home. And on Monday morning, September +21st, though the wind was again blowing a gale, and the passage among +the spray-covered rocks was filled with risk, we paddled over to the +mainland, ready to begin our race for life down the trail we had fought +so hard to ascend. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII. THE BEGINNING OF THE RETREAT +</H3> + +<P> +Upon reaching the mainland we stopped to assort and dry our baggage. +All of us felt we had entered upon a race against starvation, and +everything that was not strictly necessary to aid our progress to +Northwest River Post we threw away. In addition to many odds and ends +of clothing we abandoned about three pounds of tea. Tea was the one +thing of which we had carried an abundance, and though we had used it +freely, we had more than we deemed necessary to carry us through. +</P> + +<P> +While we were nearing the shore, we sighted three little ducklings +bobbing up and down in the tumbling waves and repeatedly diving. They +were too far off to reach with a pistol, and Hubbard took his rifle. +It seemed almost like attacking a fly with a cannon, but with our +thoughts on grub, none of us was impressed with its incongruity then. +After Hubbard had fired two or three shots, one of the ducklings +suddenly turned over. We paddled to it with feverish haste, and found +that it had been stunned by a ball that had barely grazed its bill. It +was a lucky shot; for if the bullet had gone through the duckling's +body there would have been little left of it to eat. +</P> + +<P> +While George and I were drying the camp equipment, Hubbard caught five +small trout in the stream that emptied into the lake at this point—the +stream we had followed down. These fish we ate for luncheon. Once +more ready to start, we pushed up the stream to the place where we had +last camped before reaching the lake, and there we again pitched our +tent. For supper we made soup of the duckling. It was almost like +coming home to reach this old camping ground, and it cheered us +considerably. The first day of the forty-mile portage we had to make +before reaching fairly continuous water had been, as a whole, +depressing. Rain, accompanied by a cold wind, began to fall early in +the afternoon. The weather was so cold, in fact, that the trout would +not rise after we caught the five near the lake, and this made us +uneasy as to how the fishing would prove farther down the trail. The +day's journey, moreover, had made it clear, in spite of our efforts to +hide the fact from one another, that we were much weaker than when we +last had made portages. We had reached the stage where none of us +could carry the canoe alone. Decidedly we were not the same men that +had set out so blithely from the post eight weeks before. As for +myself, I had shortened my belt thirteen inches since July 15th. +</P> + +<P> +It became the custom now for George and me to go ahead with the canoe +for a mile or so while Hubbard brought forward in turn each of the +three packs for about an eighth of a mile. Then George and I would +return to him, and, each taking a pack, we would advance to the place +where the canoe had been left. Sometimes, however, this routine was +varied, Hubbard now and then helping George with the canoe while I +juggled with the packs until they returned to me. Despite the fact that +we had fewer as well as lighter packs to carry than on the up trail, +our progress was slower because of our increasing weakness. Whereas it +had taken us three days on the up trail to portage the fifteen miles +between Lake Mary and Windbound Lake, it now took us five days to cover +the same ground. +</P> + +<P> +On Tuesday, the 22d, the second day of our portage, it rained all the +time, and for the greater part of the day we floundered through marshes +and swamps. We caught no fish and killed no game. Hubbard tried to +stalk a goose in a swamp, wading above his knees in mud and water to +get a shot; but he finally had to fire at such long range that he +missed, and the bird flew away, to our great disappointment. Our day's +food consisted of half a pound of pea meal for each man. During the +day Hubbard had an attack of vomiting, and at night, when we reached +our second camping ground above the lake, we were all miserable and +thoroughly soaked, though still buoyed up by the knowledge that we were +going home. +</P> + +<P> +The cold rain continued on the 23d until late in the day, when the sky +cleared and evening set in cold and crisp. That day I was attacked +with vomiting. Our food was the same as on the day previous, with the +addition of some mossberries and cranberries we found on the barren +ridge over which we crossed. It was another day of hard portaging on +stomachs crying for food, and when we pitched our camp we were so +exhausted that we staggered like drunken men. Silent and depressed, we +took our places on the seat of boughs that George had prepared by the +roaring fire; but after we had eaten our meagre supper and drunk our +tea, and our clothes had begun to dry in the genial glow, we found our +tongues again; and, half forgetting that, starving and desperate, we +were still in the midst of the wilderness, far from human help, we once +more talked of the homes that were calling to us over the dreary +wastes; talked of the dear people that would welcome us back and of the +good things they would give us to eat; talked until far into the night, +dreading to go to the cold tent and the wet blankets. +</P> + +<P> +We awoke on the morning of the 24th to find six inches of snow on the +ground and the storm still raging, with the temperature down to 28. +Soon after we began plodding through the snow on a pea-soup breakfast, +George left us to hunt geese. The night before he had told Hubbard he +would kill a goose in the morning, if he were permitted to go on with a +rifle. He had heard the geese flying, and believed they had alighted +for the night in a small lake some distance ahead. The knowledge that +he was a famous goose hunter "down the bay" made his confidence +impressive; still we were doubtful about his succeeding in his quest; +for the geese had been so hard to approach of late we were beginning to +fear we should never shoot any more. For half an hour after George had +taken his pack and a rifle and gone on, Hubbard and I slowly followed +his trail through the snow. Then in the distance we heard a "Bang!" +and after a short interval, "Bang!—Bang!"—three shots in all. +</P> + +<P> +"He's seen them," said Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"And shot one," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not so sure of that," returned Hubbard; "I'm afraid they flew and +he tried to wing them, and if that's the case the chances are against +him." +</P> + +<P> +Presently we came upon George's pack near the western end of the little +lake, and we stopped and anxiously waited for him to appear. In a few +moments he came. +</P> + +<P> +"You can kick me," he began with apparent disgust; then, observing the +look of keen disappointment upon Hubbard's haggard face, he quickly +changed his tone. "That's all right, fellus," he said; "I got a goose. +I saw 'em out there fifty yards from shore, and I bellied along through +the brush as close as I dared, and fired and knocked one over. Then +the others flew out about two hundred yards farther, and I thought I'd +chance another shot; for if I didn't try I wouldn't get another, and if +I did I might knock one over. So I shot again and did get another. +Then the rest of the flock rose up, and I tried to wing one, but +missed, and they've gone now. But there's two dead ones out in the +lake." +</P> + +<P> +Joy?—the word fails to express our feeling. George and I hurried back +for the canoe, and when we paddled out, there, sure enough, were the +two geese, one dead and the other helpless with a broken wing. George +ended the life of the wounded goose with a pistol, and we paddled back +to our packs and built a big fire in the lee of a thick clump of trees. +The snow had turned into a fierce, driving rain, but that did not +bother us. To dress the geese did not take long. We put the giblets +and entrails to boil immediately, and, to quiet our impatience while +waiting for them to cook, George cut from the necks a piece of skin and +fat for each of us. These we warmed on the end of a stick, taking +great care not to heat them enough to permit a single drop of the oil +to escape from the fat; then, half raw as they were, we ate them down +greedily and found them delicious. It was really wonderful how much +happiness that bit of game brought us. As we were eating the giblets +and entrails and drinking the broth, we freely admitted that never +before had we sat down to such a banquet. +</P> + +<P> +"And," remarked Hubbard, "just think how original is our menu. I'll bet +there isn't a menu in New York that contains boiled goose entrails." +</P> + +<P> +On the 25th the fierce northwest gale still blew, and the air was again +filled with snow. But still we pushed onward. Let the wind blow, and +the snow and rain come as they liked, they could not stop us—we were +going home. We portaged this day to another of our old camps by a +small lake. On the evening before we had eaten the wings and feet of +the geese boiled. For breakfast we had half a goose, for luncheon we +had pea soup, and at night we had the other half of the goose left over +from the morning. We scorched the bones in the fire and ate even them. +These meals did not begin to satisfy our appetites, but they were +sufficient to give us a little new life. +</P> + +<P> +While we were sitting around the fire Hubbard wished me to promise to +spend Thanksgiving Day with him that year—if we reached home in time. +For two years I had spent the day at his home, and Thanksgiving, he +said, must be our reunion day always. No matter what happened, we must +always make a special effort to spend that day together in the years to +come. We must never drift apart. We were brothers, comrades—more +than brothers. We had endured the greatest hardships together, had +fought our way through that awful country together, had starved +together; and never had there been misunderstanding, never a word of +dissension. +</P> + +<P> +From this time on we talked less about what we should eat when we +reached civilisation. True, we would sometimes lapse into restaurant +and home-dinner talks, but we fought against it as much as possible, +realising that to permit our thoughts to dwell on good things to eat +accentuated our distress. Gradually we talked more and more of +childhoods days, and incidents, long forgotten, came vividly before us. +It was a psychological phenomenon I cannot account for; but it was the +case with all of us—Hubbard, George, and myself. +</P> + +<P> +During these trying times we had one never-failing source of amusement, +which, because it was the only one, was all the more valued and taken +advantage of. I refer to our appearance. George had shaved once since +we had gone into the country, but neither Hubbard nor I had known the +caress of a razor since we left the post on July 15th. None of us had +felt the loving touch of the scissors upon his hair since leaving New +York in June, and our heads were shaggy masses of more or less +dishevelled and tangled locks. Long-continued exposure to sun and +storm and the smoke of campfires had covered our faces with a deep coat +of brown. Our eyes were sunken deep into their sockets. Our lips were +drawn to thin lines over our teeth. The skin of our faces and hands +was stretched tight over the bones. We were almost as thin, and almost +the colour of the mummies one sees in museums. +</P> + +<P> +As for our clothing, it was still hanging upon us, and that is about +all that can be said of it. Our trousers, full of rents, were tied +together with pieces of fish line. The bottoms of our moccasins were +so hopelessly gone that we had our feet wrapped in rags, with pieces of +fishline tied around what remained of the uppers. Our flannel shirts +were full of rents. Around our necks we wore red bandanna +handkerchiefs. Our soft felt hats had become shapeless things so full +of rents that if it were not for the bandanna handkerchiefs we wore in +them our hair would have protruded at every point. +</P> + +<P> +Frequently we would picture ourselves walking into our homes or through +the streets of New York as we then were, and laugh at the thought. +"Wallace," Hubbard would say, "the cops wouldn't let you walk a block; +they'd run you in sure. You're the most disreputable-looking +individual I ever saw, by long odds." And I would retort: "I'd make a +good second to you; for you're the worst that ever happened." +</P> + +<P> +It was on Saturday morning, the 26th, that we reached the western end +of Lake Mary and completed fifteen miles of our forty-mile portage. We +pitched our tent, as we had done before, on the site of the old Indian +camp, near the brook George had pointed out as a good fishing place. +The rain and wind continued in the morning, but at midday the sun came +out and we were able to dry our blankets. Always we waited for the sun +to dry the blankets; for we had had so many articles of clothing burned +while hanging before the fire we did not dare to trust the blankets +near it. +</P> + +<P> +While we were following our old trail to the lake, Hubbard decapitated +a duck with a rifle bullet, and we went into camp with high hopes of +more food in the way of fish. Hubbard's rod was hopelessly broken, so +he took mine, now much wound with linen thread, but, still usable if +not very pliable, and while I made camp and George prepared the duck +for luncheon, he caught twenty trout of fair size, which caused our +spirits to run high. +</P> + +<P> +Luncheon over, Hubbard resumed his fishing, and I stole away with my +rifle along the marshes in the hope of seeing a caribou. When I +returned towards dusk without having sighted any game, I found a stage +over the fire and George hanging up trout to dry. Hubbard, it +appeared, had caught ninety-five more. Our exultation knew no bounds. +We had not dreamed of any such catch as that. By remaining in camp and +fishing another day, we should, at this rate, be able to dry nearly +enough trout to see us through to Lake Disappointment. +</P> + +<P> +We were as happy and as free from care as children. Our great success +here made us feel sure that down below, where we had caught so many +fish on our inbound journey, we should again get plenty—all we should +need, in fact—and our safety seemed assured. We admitted we had felt +doubts as to the outcome, which we had not expressed out of +consideration for one another. But now we felt we could look forward +to reaching home as a certainty. And, feeling freer to indulge our +fancies, our talk at once returned to the good things we were going to +eat. +</P> + +<P> +Sunday, the 27th, was warm and clear, with a southwest wind, and +everything seemed favourable for more fish. For breakfast we ate the +last of our goose, and for luncheon trout entrails and roe. While +George and I were drying fish during the forenoon, Hubbard caught fifty +more. One big fellow had sores all over his body, and we threw it +aside. Towards noon the fish ceased to rise, the pool probably being +fished out. After luncheon I again left camp with my rifle in the vain +hope of sighting a caribou. +</P> + +<P> +The gloom of night was beginning to gather when I returned. As I +approached, stepping noiselessly on the mossy carpet of the forest, I +saw Hubbard sitting alone by the bright-burning fire, mending his +moccasins. Something in his attitude made me pause. He was +bareheaded, and his long, unkempt hair hung half way down to his +shoulders. As he sat there in the red glow of the fire, with the +sombre woods beyond and the lonely stretch of lake below, and I took +note of his emaciated form and his features so haggard and drawn, I +seemed for the first time to realise fully the condition to which the +boy had been brought by his sufferings. And while I stood there, still +unobserved, I heard him softly humming to himself: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Rock of Ages, cleft for me,<BR> + Let me hide myself in Thee."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +How strangely the old hymn sounded among those solitudes! After a +little I again started to advance, and as I stepped upon a dry branch +Hubbard stopped his singing and looked up quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace," he exclaimed, "I'm glad to see you! George and I have been +having a long Sunday talk and we missed you. We were wishing you'd +come. No luck?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said I; "nothing but old trails; not a fresh track anywhere. What +were you talking about?" +</P> + +<P> +"We had a chapter from the Bible and a little talk about it. I've been +thinking about my class of boys in the Sunday-school at Congers, and +how glad I'll be to get back to them again; I've a lot I want to tell +them. It's restful just to think of that little church, and this +Sunday afternoon I've been thinking about it a good deal." +</P> + +<P> +George was lying in the tent, and Hubbard and I joined him and +continued our conversation there. Hubbard spoke of the luck we had had +in catching trout, saying: "It's God's way of taking care of us so long +as we do our best." It was wonderful to see how, as his body became +weaker, his spirit grew brighter. Steadily he became more gentle and +affectionate; the more he suffered the more his faith in the God of his +youth seemed to increase. +</P> + +<P> +Early the next morning (September 28th) George, who was the first to be +stirring, poked his head into the tent, and with an air of mystery +asked me for my pistol. A moment later we heard a shot. Hubbard and I +both looked out, to see George returning with empty hands and an +expression of deep chagrin. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you shooting at now?" asked Hubbard. +</P> + +<P> +"The blackest marten I ever saw," said George. "I knocked him over, +but he got on his feet again and was into the lake and away before I +could reach him. The beggar was right here in camp tryin' to make off +with that fish with sores we threw away. He might have made good +eatin' if we'd got him." +</P> + +<P> +As the day was squally with snow, and a heavy wind was kicking up a sea +on the lake, we decided to remain in camp another day and smoke the +fish a little more. While we kept the smoke going under the stage, we +sat by the fire and chatted. The day's rations consisted of three fish +for each man at each of the three meals. By way of a little variety we +roasted some of the fish on sticks. We were all very weak, but George +explained that away. +</P> + +<P> +"The Indians," he said, "always go to pieces after they've been hard up +for a while and finally get grub. Then they feed up and get strong +again. It's the grub comin' all of a sudden that makes you weak. Your +mind feelin' easier, you feel you can't do anything." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard and I agreed that George was right. Our minds certainly had +relaxed; homeward bound with enough fish on hand to last us for several +days, we had no doubts as to the future. We decided, however, that +whatever the weather conditions in the morning might be, we should +break camp and push on with the greatest possible speed, as it was the +part of wisdom to make our supply of fish carry us down the back trail +as far as possible. So we went to our blankets more than eager for the +morning's start, and more confident we should get out safely than at +any time since we began the retreat. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII. HUBBARD'S GRIT +</H3> + +<P> +Two things soon became plain after our struggle back to the post was +resumed. One was that winter was fast closing in upon us; the other +was that Hubbard's condition was such as might well cause the gravest +concern. The morning that we broke camp on Lake Mary (Tuesday, +September 29th), was ushered in by a gale from the west and driving +snow. The mercury had dropped to 24, and all of us were a-shiver when +we issued from the tent. While George and I were preparing the outfit +for travel Hubbard caught twelve trout in the pool. On the lake we +encountered as heavy a sea as our little canoe could weather, and we +had to struggle hard for an hour to reach the farther shore. Upon +landing, Hubbard was again attacked with diarrhoea. George and I +carried the packs up the high bank to a sheltered spot in the woods, +but when I returned to Hubbard he insisted on helping me to carry the +canoe. Up the steep ascent we laboured, and then, as we put the canoe +down, Hubbard said: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm dead tired and weak, boys; I think I'll have to take a little +rest." +</P> + +<P> +After building him a roaring log fire, George and I carried the canoe a +mile and a half ahead through the driving snow, which was of the wet +kind that clings to every bush and tree, robing the woods in a pure and +spotless white that inevitably suggests fairyland. But I was not in a +mood to admire the beauty of it all. Upon our return to Hubbard he +announced that we should have to camp where we were for the day, that +he might have time to recuperate. The delay affected him keenly. We +should eat nearly as much food in our idleness as we should in moving +onward, and the thought of drawing on our thirty-five pounds of dried +fish without making progress was anything but pleasant. +</P> + +<P> +The wintry weather did not worry us; for we knew the snow then falling +would disappear before the ground became covered for good, and we felt +sure we should reach the Susan Valley before freezing-up time, in which +event ice would assist rather than retard our progress, as even with +the Susan River open it would be impossible to use the canoe in its +shoal, rapid waters. As for Hubbard's condition, I suppose it worried +me more than anyone else. George had failed to note the signs of +increasing weakness in our leader that I had, and Hubbard himself was +so under the influence of his indomitable spirit that for a long time +he apparently did not realise the possibility of an utter collapse. +</P> + +<P> +By the campfire that night he was confident we should be able to make +up the next day for the delay caused by his weakness. For a long time +he sat silently gazing into the fire, but as he had just been +expressing a longing to see his wife, if only for a moment, I knew he +did not see the blaze before him. He was looking into another fire—a +big, wood fire in an old-fashioned fireplace in the cheerful +sitting-room of a far-away Congers home, and his wife was by his side. +He put out his arm to draw her closer to him. I could see it all and +understand—understand the look of perfect happiness that his fancy's +picture brought to his face. But when George arose to throw some more +logs on the fire, the shower of sparks that flew heavenward brought him +suddenly back to reality—to the snow-covered woods of Labrador. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope we shall be able to find another house in Congers with a +fireplace such as our old one had," he said, turning to me as if he +knew I had been reading his thoughts. "In the evening we sit long +before the fire without lighting a lamp. Sometimes we make believe +we're camping, and make our tea and broil some bacon or melt some +cheese for our crackers over the coals, and have a jolly time. I want +you, b'y, to visit us often and join us in those teas, and see if you +don't find them as delightful as we do." +</P> + +<P> +The next morning (September 30th) Hubbard said he was much better, and +gave the order to advance. We made a short march, camping just beyond +the long swamp on the edge of the boulder-strewn country we had found +so hard to traverse on the upward trail. On the way we stopped for a +pot of tea at a place in the swamp where we had previously camped, and +there discovered a treasure; namely, the bones of a caribou hoof we had +used in making soup. We seized upon the bones eagerly, put them in the +fire and licked the grease off them as it was drawn out by the heat. +Then we cracked them and devoured the bit of grease we found inside. +</P> + +<P> +It was agreed that from this point George and I should carry the canoe +about two miles ahead, while Hubbard carried the packs to a convenient +place beyond the swamps and there pitched camp. It was about dusk when +George and I, after a laborious struggle among the boulders and brush, +put the canoe down and turned back. As we approached the place that +had been selected for a camp, we looked expectantly for the glow of the +fire, but none was to be seen. At length we heard axe strokes, and +came upon Hubbard cutting wood. He greeted us with rather a wan smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been slow, boys," he said. "I haven't got the firewood cut yet, +nor the boughs for the bed. I've only just pitched the tent." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll get the other axe," I said quickly, "and help you while George +builds the fire." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," he protested; "you get the boughs while I'm getting the wood." +</P> + +<P> +"I can get the boughs after we have the wood chopped; it won't take me +long and you must let me help you." +</P> + +<P> +At that Hubbard said, "Thank you, b'y," in a tone of great relief. Then +he added slowly, "I'm still a bit weak, and it's hard to work fast +to-night." +</P> + +<P> +It was the first time since we left the post that he consented to +anyone doing any part of his share of the work. It is true that since +we had turned back I had been relieving him of his share of carrying +the canoe, but I was able to do so only by telling him I much preferred +toting the boat to juggling with the packs. From this time on, +however, he consented, with less resistance, to George or myself doing +this or that while he rested by the fire. The fact was he had reached +the stage where he was kept going only by his grit. +</P> + +<P> +October began with tremendous gales and a driving rain mixed with +sleet, that removed all traces of the snow. The sleet stung our faces, +and we frequently had to take refuge from the blasts in the lee of +bushes and trees so as to recover our breath; but we managed to advance +our camp three miles on the first, pitching the tent on the shore of +one of the limpid ponds among the boulders. For supper we ate the last +of the dried fish, which again left us with only the diminishing stock +of pea meal, and none of us did much talking when we crouched about the +fire. +</P> + +<P> +On Friday (October 2d), with high hopes of getting fish, we hurried +ahead with our packs to the pool where Hubbard had caught the big trout +with his emergency kit and the tamarack pole, and near which we had +camped for a day while he rested and George made a trip to the +mountains from which he discovered Lake Mary and Windbound Lake. The +sight of the old camping place brought back to me the remembrance of +how sick Hubbard had been there a month before, and how the thought had +come to me to try to make him give up the struggle. +</P> + +<P> +The weather was very unfavourable for trouting—a cold west wind was +blowing accompanied by snow squalls—but Hubbard caught two within a +few minutes, and George boiled them with a bit of pea meal for +luncheon. Then, leaving Hubbard to try for more fish, George and I +went back to the canoe. While we were returning to camp, George shot a +duck with my rifle. It was a very fat black duck, and we gloated long +over its fine condition. Only three more trout rewarded Hubbard's +afternoon's work. However, we had duck for supper, and were nearer +home, and that comforted us. +</P> + +<P> +I remember that while we sat by the fire that evening George produced +from somewhere in the recesses of his pockets a New York Central +Railroad timetable on which was printed a buffet lunch menu, and handed +it to us with the suggestion that we give our orders for breakfast. +Hubbard examined it and quickly said: +</P> + +<P> +"Give me a glass of cream, some graham gems, marmalade, oatmeal and +cream, a jelly omelette, a sirloin steak, lyonnaise potatoes, rolls, +and a pot of chocolate. And you might bring me also," he added, "a +plate of griddle cakes and maple syrup." +</P> + +<P> +Every dish on that menu card from end to end we thoroughly discussed, +our ultimate conclusion being that each of us would take a full portion +of everything on the list and might repeat the order. +</P> + +<P> +It was on this evening also that, while calculating the length of time +it would take us to travel from point to point on our back trail, we +began the discussion as to whether it would be better to stick to the +canoe on the "big river" (the Beaver) and follow it down to its mouth, +wherever that might be, or abandon the canoe at the place where we had +portaged into the river from Lake Elson, and make a dash overland with +light packs to the Susan Valley and down that valley to the hunters' +cabins we had seen at the head of Grand Lake, where we hoped we might +find a cache of provisions. Hubbard was strongly in favour of the +latter plan, while George and I favoured the former. As the reader +knows, I had a great dread of the Susan Valley, and expressed my +feelings freely. But we all had the idea that the "big river" emptied +into Goose Bay (the extreme western end of Hamilton Inlet), and Hubbard +reasoned that we might reach the broad waters of the bay far from a +house, be windbound indefinitely and die of starvation on the shore. +On the other hand, we were sure of the route through the Susan Valley, +and, in his opinion, it would be better to bear the ills we had borne +before than fly to others we know not of. I cannot deny that his +argument had weight, but we decided that for the present we should hold +the matter in abeyance. One thing we felt reasonably sure of, and that +was we should get fish in the big river, and we eagerly counted the +days it would take us to reach it. +</P> + +<P> +Bright and cold and crisp was Saturday morning (October 3d), with black +wind-driven clouds and occasional snow squalls later in the day. About +noon, when Hubbard had gone ahead with a pack, George and I sighted two +small black ducks while we were canoeing across a pond. They were +quietly swimming about fifty yards in front of us. I passed my rifle +ahead to George. He carefully knelt in the canoe, and took a +deliberate aim while I held my breath. Then, Crack! went the rifle, +and but one duck rose on the wing. Quick as a flash, without removing +the rifle from his shoulder, George threw the lever forward and back. +Instantly the rifle again spoke, and the bird in the air tumbled over +and over into the water. The first duck had been decapitated; the +other received a bullet through its body. +</P> + +<P> +The moment was intense; for we had only a little fish for breakfast, +and the outlook for other meals had seemed dismal indeed; but George +was stoicism itself; not a word did he utter, nor did a feature of his +face change. When, after picking up the ducks, we touched the shore, I +jumped out, took his hand and said "George, you're a wonder." But he +only grinned in his good-natured way and remarked: "We needed 'em." +Tying the birds' legs together, he slung them over his shoulder, and +proudly we marched to the place where Hubbard was awaiting us, to make +his heart glad with our good fortune. One of the ducks we ate on the +spot, and the other we had for supper at our camp by a little pond +among the moonlit hills. +</P> + +<P> +The thermometer registered only 10 degrees above zero on Sunday morning +(October 4th), but there was not a cloud in the sky, and we should have +enjoyed the crisp, clear air had it not been for the ever-present +spectre of starvation. All the food we had besides the pea meal was +two of the fish Hubbard had caught two days before. One of these we +ate for breakfast, boiled with a little pea meal. Our old trail led us +up during the forenoon to the shore of one of the larger of the small +lakes with which the country abounded. This lake we crossed with +difficulty, being compelled to break the ice ahead of the canoe with +our paddles. +</P> + +<P> +On the opposite shore we stopped to make a fire for tea—that was all +we thought we should have for luncheon; just tea. George stepped into +the timber to get wood, and in a moment returned and asked me for my +pistol. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw a partridge in there," he said quietly. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Hubbard and I heard the pistol crack, and we counted, at +short intervals, four shots. +</P> + +<P> +"There's something up," said Hubbard, and we started to our feet just +as George came in view with a grin on his face and four spruce-grouse +in his hand. He always did those things in that quiet, matter-of-fact +way. +</P> + +<P> +Two of the birds George cooked immediately, and as he served to each an +equal share, Hubbard said: +</P> + +<P> +"Boys, we should thank the Lord for this food. It has seemed +sometimes, I know, as if He had forgotten us; but He has not. Just now +when we needed food so much He gave us these partridges. Let us thank +Him." +</P> + +<P> +So we bowed our heads for a moment, we three gaunt, ragged men, sitting +there by our fire in the open, with the icy lake at our backs and the +dark wilderness of fir trees before us. +</P> + +<P> +During the afternoon we bagged two more grouse. Hubbard shot them as +they fluttered up before him on the trail, and a meal on the morrow was +assured. The day's work practically completed our forty-mile portage; +for we camped at night on the first little lake north of Lake +Disappointment. It was well that we had about reached fairly +continuous water. None of us would have been able to stand much longer +the strain of those rough portages day after day. Fortunate as we had +been in getting game at critical moments since leaving Windbound Lake, +the quantity of food we had eaten was far below that which was +necessary to sustain the strength of men who had to do hard physical +work. +</P> + +<P> +It had become so that when we tried to sit down our legs would give way +and we would tumble down. Hubbard was failing daily. He habitually +staggered when he walked, and on this last day of our long portage he +came near going all to pieces nervously. When he started to tell me +something about his wife's sister, he could not recall her name, +although it had been perfectly familiar, and this and other lapses of +memory appeared to frighten him. For a long time he sat very still +with his face buried in his hands, doubtless striving to rally his +forces. And the most pitiable part of it was his fear that George and +I should notice his weakness and lose courage. +</P> + +<P> +But he rallied—rallied so as again to become the inspirer of George +and me, he who was the weakest physically of the three. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIV. BACK THROUGH THE RANGES +</H3> + +<P> +In our camp on the first little lake north of Lake Disappointment we +ate on Monday morning (October 5th) the last of the grouse we had +killed on the previous day, and when we started forward we again were +down to the precious little stock of pea meal. In a storm of snow and +rain we floundered with the packs and canoe through a deep marsh, until +once more we stood on the shore of the big lake where we had spent the +weary days searching for a river—Lake Disappointment. We built a fire +on the shore to dry our rags and warm ourselves; for we were soaked +through and shivering with the cold. Then we launched the canoe and +paddled eastward. +</P> + +<P> +Late in the afternoon we landed on an island that contained a +semi-barren knoll, but which otherwise was wooded with small spruce. +On the knoll we found an abundance of mossberries, and soon after we +had devoured them we happened upon a supper in the form of two +spruce-grouse. George and Hubbard each shot one. The sun's journey +across the sky was becoming noticeably shorter and shorter, and before +we had realised that the day was spent, night began to close in upon +us, and we pitched camp on the island. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning (October 6) our breakfast flew right into camp. George +crawled out early to build a fire, and a moment later stuck his head in +the tent with the words, "Your pistol, Wallace." I handed it out to +him, and almost immediately we heard a shot. Then George reappeared, +holding up another spruce-grouse. +</P> + +<P> +"This grub came right to us," he said; "I knocked the beggar over close +by the fire." +</P> + +<P> +While we were eating the bird, Hubbard told us he had been dreaming +during the night of home. Nearly every day now we heard that he had +been dreaming the night before of his wife or his mother; they were +always giving him good things to eat, or he was going to good dinners +with them. +</P> + +<P> +It had rained hard during the night, but with early morning there came +again the mixture of rain and snow we had endured on the day before. +When we put off in the canoe, we headed for the point where we expected +to make the portage across the two-mile neck of land that separated +Lake Disappointment from Lost Trail Lake; but soon we were caught by a +terrific gale, and for half an hour we sat low in the canoe doing our +best with the paddles to keep it headed to the wind and no one speaking +a word. The foam dashed over the sides of our little craft, soaking us +from head to foot. Tossed violently about by the big seas, we for a +time expected that every moment would be our last. Had George been +less expert with the stern paddle, we surely should have been swamped. +As it was we managed, after a desperate struggle, to gain the lee side +of a small, rocky island, upon which we took refuge. +</P> + +<P> +At length the wind abated and the lake became calmer, and, venturing +out once more, we made for the mainland some distance to the west of +where we had intended to make our portage. There we stumbled upon a +river of considerable size flowing in a southwesterly direction from +Lake Disappointment into Lost Trail Lake. This river we had missed on +the up trail and here had lost the old Indian trail to Michikamau. I +volunteered to take my rifle and hunt across the neck of land +separating the two lakes while Hubbard and George ran the rapids; but +presently I heard them calling to me, and, returning to the river, +found them waiting on the bank. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll camp just below here for the night," said Hubbard, "and finish +the river in the morning. I couldn't manage my end of the canoe in a +rapid we were shooting and we got on a rock. You'd better shoot the +rapids with George after this." +</P> + +<P> +I suppose Hubbard's weakness prevented him from turning the canoe +quickly enough when occasion required, and he realised it. +</P> + +<P> +All we had to eat that night was a little thin soup made from the pea +meal, and an even smaller quantity had to serve us for breakfast. In +the morning (October 7th) we shot the rapids without incident down into +Lost Trail Lake, and, turning to the eastward, were treated to a +delightful view of the Kipling Mountains, now snow-capped and +cold-looking, but appearing to us so much like old friends that it did +our hearts good to see them. It was an ideal Indian summer day, the +sun shining warmly down from a cloudless sky. Looking at the +snow-capped peaks that bounded the horizon in front of me, I thought of +the time when I had stood gazing at them from the other side, and of +the eagerness I had felt to discover what lay hidden beyond. +</P> + +<P> + "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges—<BR> + Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Well, we had gone. And we had found what lay hidden behind the ranges. +But were we ever to get out to tell about it? +</P> + +<P> +We stopped on the shore of Lost Trail Lake to eat some badly-needed +cranberries and mossberries. The mossberries, having been frozen, were +fairly sweet, and they modified, to some extent, the acid of the +cranberries, so that taken together they made a luncheon for which we, +in our great need, were duly grateful. After eating as many of the +berries as our stomachs would hold, we were able to pick a pan of them +to take with us. +</P> + +<P> +Paddling on, we passed through the strait connecting Lost Trail Lake +with Lake Hope, and, recalling with grim smiles the enthusiastic cheers +we had sent up there a few weeks before, sped rapidly across Lake Hope +to the entrance of our old mountain pass, camping for the night on a +ridge near the old sweat holes of the medicine men. Our supper +consisted of a little more pea soup and half of the panful of berries. +</P> + +<P> +While we were lying spoon-fashion under the blankets at night, it was +the custom for a man who got tired of lying on one side to say "turn," +which word would cause the others to flop over immediately, usually +without waking. On this night, however, I said "turn over," and as we +all flopped, Hubbard, who had been awake, remarked: "That makes me +think of the turnovers and the spicerolls mother used to make for me." +And then he and I lay for an hour and talked of the baking days at the +homes of our childhood. Under-the-blanket talks like this were not +infrequent. "Are you awake, b'y?" Hubbard would ask. "Yes, b'y," I +would reply, and so we would begin. If we happened to arouse George, +which was not usual, Hubbard would insist on his describing over and +over again the various Indian dishes he had prepared. +</P> + +<P> +Weak as we were upon leaving Lake Hope (October 8), we did an heroic +day's work. We portaged the entire six miles through the mountain +pass, camping at night on the westernmost of the lakes that constitute +the headwaters of the Beaver River, once more on the other side of the +ranges. We did this on a breakfast of pea soup and the rest of our +berries, and a luncheon of four little trout that Hubbard caught in the +stream that flows through the pass. I shot a spruce grouse in the +pass, and this bird we divided between us for supper. It was a +terrible day. The struggle through the brush and up the steep inclines +with the packs and the canoe so exhausted me that several times I +seemed to be on the verge of a collapse, and I found it hard to conceal +my condition. Once Hubbard said to me: +</P> + +<P> +"Speak stronger, b'y. Put more force in your voice. It's so faint +George'll surely notice it, and it may scare him." +</P> + +<P> +That was always the way with Hubbard. Despite his own pitiable +condition, he was always trying to help us on and give us new courage. +As a matter of fact, his own voice was getting so weak and low that we +frequently had to ask him to repeat. +</P> + +<P> +And the day ended in a bitter disappointment. On our uptrail we had +had a good catch of trout at the place where the stream flowing out of +the pass fell into the lake near our camp, and it was the hope of +another good catch there that kept us struggling on to reach the end of +the pass before night. But Hubbard whipped the pool at the foot of the +fall in vain. Not a single fish rose. The day had been bright and +sunshiny, but the temperature was low and the fish had gone to deeper +waters. +</P> + +<P> +It was a dismal camp. The single grouse we had for supper served only +to increase our craving for food. And there we were, with less than +two pounds of pea meal on hand and the fish deserting us, more than one +hundred and fifty miles from the post at Northwest River. By the fire +Hubbard again talked of home. +</P> + +<P> +"I dreamed last night," he said, "that you and I, Wallace, were very +weak and very hungry, and we came all at once upon the old farm in +Michigan, and mother was there, and she made us a good supper of hot +tea biscuits with maple syrup and honey to eat on them. And how we ate +and ate!" +</P> + +<P> +But George's customary grin was missing. In silence he took the tea +leaves from the kettle and placed them on a flat stone close by the +fire, and in silence he occasionally stirred them with a twig that he +broke from a bush at his back. At length, the tea leaves having dried +sufficiently, he filled his pipe from them, and I filled my pipe. We +had not had any tobacco to smoke for many days. +</P> + +<P> +The silence continued. On my right sat George, his cheeks sunken, his +eyes deep down in their sockets, his long black hair falling over his +ears—there he sat stiffly erect, puffing his tea leaves with little +apparent satisfaction and gazing stoically into the fire. I could +guess what was passing through his mind—the stories of the Indians +that starved. +</P> + +<P> +On my left was Hubbard. He had assumed the attitude that of late had +become characteristic when he was dreaming of his wife and his mother +and his far-away home. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his +hands were supporting his head. His long hair hid his bony fingers and +framed his poor, wan face. His sunken eyes, with their look of wistful +longing, were fixed on the blazing logs. +</P> + +<P> +The silence became so oppressive that I had to break it: +</P> + +<P> +"George," I said, "were you never hungry before?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never in my life was short of grub till now," he answered shortly. +</P> + +<P> +At that Hubbard, aroused from his reverie, looked up. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I can tell you, George," he said, "there are worse places than +Labrador to starve in." +</P> + +<P> +"How's that?" grunted George. +</P> + +<P> +"If you had been as hungry as I have been in New York City, you'd know +what I mean," said Hubbard. "It's a heap worse to be hungry where +there's lots of grub around you than in the bush where there's none. I +remember that when I first went to New York, and was looking for work, +I found myself one rainy night with only five cents in my pocket. It +was all the money I had in the world, and I hadn't any friends in the +city, and I didn't want to write home, because nearly all the people +there had no faith in my venture. I was soaking wet and good and +hungry; I hadn't been eating much for several days. Well, I went to a +bakery and blew in my last nickel on stale rolls and crullers and took +them to my room. Then I took off my wet clothes and got into bed to +get warm and snug, and there I ate my rolls and crullers, and they were +bully. Yes, I remember that although my room rent was overdue, and I +didn't know where my breakfast was coming from, I was supremely happy; +I sort of felt I was doing the best I could." +</P> + +<P> +We went to bed that night feeling that our lives now depended on +whether fish could be caught below. +</P> + +<P> +More than anxious were we for the morrow, because then we should go to +the first rapid on the Beaver River below the lakes, and there in the +pool, where two fishings had yielded us more than one hundred and +thirty trout on the up trail, test our fortunes. +</P> + +<P> +The morning (October 9th) dawned crisp and wintry. The sun rose in a +cloudless sky and set all the lake a-glinting. On the peaks of the +Kipling Mountains the sunbeams kissed the snow, causing it to gleam and +scintillate in brilliant contrast to the deep blue of the heavens above +and the dark green of the forests below. Under normal circumstances we +should have paused to drink in the beauty of it all; but as we in our +faithful old canoe paddled quickly down over the lake I am afraid that +none of us thought of anything save the outcome of the test we were to +make of our fortunes at the rapid for which we were bound. It is +difficult to be receptive to beauty when one has had only a little +watered pea meal for breakfast after a long train of lean and hungry +days. We were glad only that the sun was modifying the chill air of +the dawn, thus increasing our chance of getting fish. +</P> + +<P> +How friendly the narrow lake looked where we had seen the otter at play +at sunset and where the loons had laughed at us so derisively. And the +point, where we had camped that August night and roasted our goose +seemed very homelike. We stopped there for a moment to look for bones. +There were a few charred ones where the fire had been. They crumbled +without much pressure, and we ate them. No trout were jumping in the +lake now—its mirror-like surface was unbroken. All was still, very +still. To our somewhat feverish imagination it seemed as if all nature +were bating its breath as if tensely waiting for the outcome at the +fishing pool. +</P> + +<P> +I can hardly say what we expected. I fear my own faith was weak, but I +believe Hubbard's was strong—his was the optimistic temperament. How +glad we were to feel the river current as it caught the canoe and +hurried it on to the rapid! Suddenly, as we turned a point in the +stream, the sound of the rushing waters came to us. A few moments more +and we were there. Just above the rapid we ran the canoe ashore, and +Hubbard with his rod hurried down to the pool and cast a fly upon the +water. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XV. GEORGE'S DREAM +</H3> + +<P> +Since the weather had become colder we always fished with bait, if any +were available, and so, when after a few minutes a small trout took +Hubbard's fly, he made his next cast with a fin cut from his first +catch. Before he cast the fly, George and I ran the canoe through the +rapid to a point just below the pool where we had decided to camp. +Then, leaving George to finish the work of making camp, I took my rod +and joined Hubbard. All day long, and until after dusk, we fished. We +got sixty. But they were all tiny, not averaging more than six inches +long. +</P> + +<P> +The test of our fortunes was not encouraging. Hubbard especially was +disappointed, as he had been cherishing the hope that we might catch +enough to carry us well down the trail. And what were sixty little +fish divided among three ravenous men! We ate fifteen of them for +luncheon and eighteen for supper, and began to fear the worst. The pea +meal now was down to one and a half pounds. +</P> + +<P> +It was late when we gave up trying to get more fish, but we sat long by +the fire considering the possibility of finding scraps at the camp down +the Beaver where we had killed the caribou on August 12. The head, we +remembered, had been left practically untouched, and besides the bones +there were three hoofs lying about somewhere, if they had not been +carried off by animals. We knew that these scraps had been rotting for +two months, but we looked forward hopefully to reaching them on the +morrow. +</P> + +<P> +No lovelier morning ever dawned than that of Saturday (October 10th), +and until midday the weather was balmy and warm; but in the afternoon +clouds began to gather attended by a raw west wind. While George and I +shot the rapids, Hubbard fished them, catching in all seventeen little +trout. Some of the rapids George and I went through in the canoe we +should never, under ordinary conditions, have dreamed of shooting. But +George expressed the sentiments of all of us when he said: "We may as +well drown as starve, and it's a blamed sight quicker." Only when the +river made actual falls did George and I resort to portaging. However, +we did not make the progress we had hoped, and much disappointed that +we could not reach Camp Caribou that night, we camped at the foot of +the last fall above the lake expansion on the shore of which George and +I had ascended a hill to be rewarded with a splendid view of the +country and the Kipling Mountains. Our day's food consisted of three +trout each at each of our three meals. +</P> + +<P> +Sunday (October 11th) was another perfect day. It was wintry, but we +had become inured to the cold. We each had a pair of skin mittens, +which although practically gone as to the palms, served to protect our +hands from the winds. Before we started forward I read aloud John +xvii. Again in the morning we divided nine little trout among us, and +the remaining eight we had for luncheon. The weather was now so cold +that do what we would we never again could induce a trout, large or +small, to take the bait or rise to the fly. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the day George took two long shots at ducks, and +missed both times; it would have been phenomenal if he hadn't. There +was one fall that we could not shoot, and we landed on the bank to +unload the canoe. All three of us tried to lift the canoe so as to +carry it about thirty yards down to where we could again launch it, but +we were unable to get it to our heads and it fell to ground with a +crash. Then we looked at one another and understood. No one spoke, +but we all understood. Up to this time Hubbard and I had kept up the +fiction that we were "not so weak," but now all of us knew that +concealment no longer was possible, and the clear perception came to us +that if we ever got out of the wilderness it would be only by the grace +of God. +</P> + +<P> +With difficulty we dragged the canoe to the launching place, and on the +way found the cleaning rod Hubbard's father had made for him, which had +been lost while we were portaging around the fall on our upward +journey. Hubbard picked the rod up tenderly and put it in the canoe. +</P> + +<P> +An hour before sunset we reached Camp Caribou, the place where we had +broiled those luscious steaks that 12th of August and had merrily +talked and feasted far into the night. Having dragged the canoe up on +the sandy shore, we did not wait to unload it, but at once staggered up +the bank to begin our eager search for scraps. The head of the caribou, +dried and worm-eaten, was where we had left it. The bones we had cut +the meat from were there. The remnants of the stomach, partially +washed away, were there. But we found only two hoofs. We had left +three. Up and down and all around the camp we searched for that other +hoof; but it was gone. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody's taken it," said George. "Somebody's taken it, sure—a +marten or somebody." +</P> + +<P> +When all the refuse we could find had been collected, and the tent had +been pitched on the spot where it stood before, George got a fire going +and prepared our banquet of bones and hoofs. The bit of hair that +clung to the skin on the upper part of the hoofs he singed off by +holding them a moment in the fire. Then, taking an axe, he chopped the +hoofs and bones up together, and placed some of the mess in the kettle +to boil. A really greasy, though very rancid, broth resulted. Some of +the bones and particularly the hoofs were maggoty, but, as Hubbard +said, the maggots seemed to make the broth the richer, and we drank it +all. It tasted good. For some time we sat gnawing the gristle and +scraps of decayed flesh that clung to the bones, and we were honestly +thankful for our meal. +</P> + +<P> +The bones from which we made our broth were not thrown away. On the +contrary we carefully took them from the kettle and placed them with +the other bones, to boil and reboil them until the last particle of +grease had been extracted. There was little left on the head save the +hide, but that also was placed with the pile of bones, as well as the +antlers, which were in velvet, and what remained of the stomach and its +contents. +</P> + +<P> +After we had finished gnawing our bones, George sat very quiet as if +brooding over some great problem. Finally he arose, brought his camp +bag to the fire, and, resuming his seat, went low into the recesses of +the bag. Still holding his hand in the bag, he looked at me and +grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Sh-h-h," he replied, and slowly withdrawing his hand held up—an ounce +package of cut plug tobacco! +</P> + +<P> +I stared at the tobacco, and then again caught George's eye. Our +smiles became beatific. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been savin' this for when we needed it most," said George. "And I +guess the time's come." +</P> + +<P> +He handed me the package, and I filled my pipe, long unused to anything +save leaves from the teapot and red willow bark. Then George filled +his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +From the fire we took brands and applied them to the tobacco. Deep, +deep were our inhalations of the fragrant smoke. +</P> + +<P> +"George," said I, "however in the world could you keep it so long?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said George—puff, puff—"well, when we were gettin' so short +of grub"—puff—"thinks I"—puff—"the time's comin'"—puff, +puff—"when we'll need cheerin' up"—puff—"and, says I,"—puff—"I'll +just sneak this away until that time comes." +</P> + +<P> +"George," said I, lying back and watching the smoke curl upward in the +light of the fire, "you are not a half bad sort of a fellow." +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace," said be, "we'll have a pipeful of this every night until it +is gone." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd try it, too," said Hubbard wistfully, "but I know it would make me +sick, so I'll drink a little tea." +</P> + +<P> +After he had had his tea, he read to us the First Psalm. These +readings from the Bible brought with them a feeling of indescribable +comfort, and I fancy we all went to our blankets that night content to +know that whatever was, was for the best. +</P> + +<P> +With the first signs of dawn we were up and had another pot of bone +broth. Again the morning (October 12th) was crisp and beautiful, and +the continuance of the good weather gave us new courage. While the +others broke camp, I went on down the river bank in the hope of finding +game, but when, after I had walked a mile, they overtook me with the +canoe I had seen nothing. While boiling bones at noon, we +industriously employed ourselves in removing the velvet skin from the +antlers and singeing the hair off. In the afternoon we encountered +more rapids. Once Hubbard relieved me at the stern paddle, but he was +too weak to act quickly, and we had a narrow escape from being +overturned. +</P> + +<P> +While making camp at night, George heard a whiskey jack calling, and he +sneaked off into the brush and shot it. We reserved it as a dainty for +breakfast. As we sat by the fire gnawing bones and chewing up scorched +pieces of antlers, we again discussed the question as to whether we +should stick to the canoe and run the river out to its mouth or abandon +the canoe where we had entered the river. As usual George and I urged +the former course. +</P> + +<P> +"When you're in the bush stick to your canoe as long as you can," said +George; "that's always a good plan." +</P> + +<P> +But Hubbard was firm in the belief that we should take the route we +knew, and renewed his argument about the possibility of getting +windbound on Goose Bay, into which we thought the river flowed. Being +windbound had for him especial terrors, due, I suppose, to his normally +active nature. Another thing that inclined him towards taking the old +trail was his strong faith that we should get trout in the outlet to +Lake Elson, where we had such a successful fishing on the inbound +journey. He argued, furthermore, that along what we then thought was +the Nascaupee River we should be able to recover the provisions we had +abandoned soon after plunging into the wild. +</P> + +<P> +"However," he said in closing, "we'll see how we feel about it +to-morrow. I'll sleep on it." +</P> + +<P> +I remember I dreaded so much a return to the Susan Valley that I told +Hubbard it seemed like suicide to leave the river we were on and +abandon the canoe. I felt strongly on the subject and expressed my +opinion freely. But it was a question of judgment about which one +man's opinion was as likely to be right as another's and, recognising +this, we never permitted our discussions as to the best course to +follow to create any ill-feeling. +</P> + +<P> +On Tuesday (October 13th) the weather continued to favour us. We shot +the rapids without a mishap, and camped at night within three miles of +where we had entered the river. But still the question about leaving +it was undecided. The whiskey jack and a bit of pea meal helped our +pot of bone broth at breakfast, and in addition to more broth we had in +the evening some of the caribou stomach and its contents and a part of +a moccasin that Hubbard had made from the caribou skin and had worn +full of holes. Boiled in the kettle the skin swelled thick and was +fairly palatable. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Clouds and a sprinkle of rain introduced the morning of Wednesday +(October 14th). While the bones were boiling for breakfast, George +brought out the caribou skin that he had picked up on the shore of Lake +Disappointment after we had abandoned it. Now as he put a piece of it +in the kettle, we recalled his prophecy that some day we might want to +eat it, and laughed. Into the pot also went one-sixth of a pound of +pea meal together with a few lumps of flour that we carefully scraped +from a bag we had thrown away in the summer and found near the camp. +While we were eating this breakfast (and really enjoying it) we again +considered the problem as to whether or not we should leave the river. +In the course of the discussion George said quietly: +</P> + +<P> +"I had a strange dream about that last night, fellus." +</P> + +<P> +We urged him to tell us what it was. +</P> + +<P> +"It was a strange dream," he repeated, and hesitated. Then: "Well, I +dreamed the Lord stood before me, very beautiful and bright, and He had +a mighty kind look on His face, and He said to me: 'George, don't leave +this river—just stick to it and it will take you out to Grand Lake +where you'll find Blake's cache with lots of grub, and then you'll be +all right and safe. I can't spare you any more fish, George, and if +you leave this river you won't get any more. Just stick to this river, +and I'll take you out safe.' +</P> + +<P> +"The Lord was all smilin' and bright," continued George, "and He looked +at me very pleasant. Then He went away, and I dreamed we went right +down the river and came out in Grand Lake near where we had left it +comin' up, and we found Blake there, and he fed us and gave us all the +grub we wanted, and we had a fine time." +</P> + +<P> +It was quite evident that George was greatly impressed by his dream. I +give it here simply for what it is worth. At the same time I cannot +help characterising it as remarkable, not to say extraordinary; for +none of us had had even a suspicion that the river we were on emptied +into Grand Lake at all, much less that its mouth was near the point +where we left the lake. But I myself attached no importance to the +dream at the time, whatever I may think now; I was chiefly influenced, +I suppose, in my opposition to the abandonment of the river by the +unspeakable dread I had felt all along of returning to the Susan +Valley—was it a premonition?—and no doubt it was only natural that +Hubbard should disregard the dream. +</P> + +<P> +"It surely was an unusual dream," he said to George; "but it isn't +possible, as you know, for this river to empty into Grand Lake. We were +talking about leaving the river until late last night, and you had it +on your mind—that's what made you dream about it." +</P> + +<P> +"May be it was," said George calmly; "but it was a mighty strange +dream, and we'd better think about it before we leave the river. Stick +to the canoe, Hubbard, that's what I say. Wallace and I 'll shoot the +rapids all right. They're sure to be not so bad as we've had, and I +think they'll be a lot better. We can run 'em, can't we, Wallace?" +</P> + +<P> +I added my opinion to George's that there would be more water to cover +the rocks farther down, and said that however bad the rapids might be I +should venture to take the stern paddle in every one that George dared +to tackle. But Hubbard only said: +</P> + +<P> +"I still think, boys, we should take the trail we know." +</P> + +<P> +"That means suicide," I said for the second time, rather bitterly, I +fear. "We'll surely leave our bones in that awful valley over there. +We're too weak to accomplish that march." +</P> + +<P> +Once more Hubbard marshalled his arguments in favour of the overland +route, and George and I said no more that morning. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after we relaunched the canoe something occurred to change the +current of our thoughts. A little way ahead of us, swimming slowly +down the river, George espied a duck. No one spoke while we landed +him, rifle in hand, on the bank. Cautiously he stole down among the +alders and willows that lined the shore, and then crawled on hands and +knees through the marsh until the duck was opposite to him. It seemed +a very small thing for a rifle target while it was moving, and as +George put the rifle to his shoulder and carefully aimed, Hubbard and I +watched him with nerves drawn to a tension. Once he lowered the rifle, +changed his position slightly, then again raised the weapon to his +shoulder. He was deliberation personified. Would he never fire? But +suddenly the stillness of the wilderness was broken by a loud, clear +report. And Hubbard and I breathed again, breathed a prayer of +gratitude, as we saw the duck turn over on its back. With his long +black hair falling loosely over his ears, ragged, and dripping wet with +the marsh water, George arose and returned to us. Stopping for a +moment before entering the canoe, he looked heavenward and reverently +said: +</P> + +<P> +"The Lord surely guided that bullet." +</P> + +<P> +It was still early in the morning when we arrived at the point where we +had portaged into the river. George prepared the duck—small it was +but very fat—for a delicious, glorious luncheon, and while it was +cooking we had our last discussion as to whether or not we should leave +the river. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I at length said to Hubbard, "a final decision can be deferred +no longer. It's up to you, b'y—which route are we to take?" +</P> + +<P> +"I firmly believe," said Hubbard, "that we should stick to our old +trail." +</P> + +<P> +George and I said no more. The question was settled. Hubbard was the +leader. Immediately after luncheon we set to work preparing for the +march overland. In addition to several minor articles of equipment, we +decided to leave behind us the artificial horizon, the sextant box, and +one of the axes. When our light packs had been prepared, we turned the +canoe bottom up on the river bank. I hated to leave it. I turned once +to pat and stroke the little craft that had carried us so far in +safety. To me it was one of our party—a dear friend and comrade. It +seemed cruel to abandon it there in the midst of the wilderness. In my +abnormal state of mind I could scarcely restrain the tears. +</P> + +<P> +But the best of friends must part, and so, shouldering our light packs, +we bid the canoe a last farewell, and staggered forward to the horrors +in store for us on the trail below. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVI. AT THE LAST CAMP +</H3> + +<P> +We began our march back to the Susan Valley with a definite plan. Some +twenty-five miles below, on the Susan River, we had abandoned about +four pounds of wet flour; twelve or fifteen miles below the flour there +was a pound of powdered milk, and four or five miles still further down +the trail a pail with perhaps four pounds of lard. Hubbard considered +the distances and mapped out each day's march as he hoped to accomplish +it. We had in our possession, besides the caribou bones and hide, one +and one-sixth pounds of pea meal. Could we reach the flour? If so, +that perhaps would take us on to the milk powder, and that to the lard; +and then we should be within easy distance of Grand Lake and Blake's +winter hunting cache. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard was hopeful; George and I were fearful. Hubbard's belief that +we should be able to reach the flour was largely based on his +expectation that we should get fish in the outlet to Lake Elson. His +idea was that the water of the lake would be much warmer than that of +the river. He had, poor chap! the fatal faculty, common to persons of +the optimistic temperament, of making himself believe what he wanted to +believe. Neither George nor I remarked on the possibilities or +probabilities of our getting fish in Lake Elson's outlet, and just +before we said good-bye to the canoe Hubbard turned to me and said: +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace, don't you think we'll get them there? Aren't you hopeful we +shall?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I hope," I answered. "But I fear. The fish, you know, b'y, +haven't been rising at all for several days, and perhaps it's better +not to let our hopes run too high; for then, if they fail us, the +disappointment won't be so hard to bear." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that's so," he replied; "but it makes me feel good to look +forward to good fishing there. We will get fish there, we will! Just +say we will, b'y; for that makes me feel happy." +</P> + +<P> +"We will—we'll say we will," I repeated to comfort him. +</P> + +<P> +Under ordinary conditions we should have found our packs, in their +depleted state, very easy to carry; but, as it was, they weighed us +down grievously as we trudged laboriously up the hill from the river +and over the ridge to the marsh on the farther side of which lay Lake +Elson. On the top of the ridge and on the slope where it descended to +the marsh we found a few mossberries, which we ate while we rested. +Crossing the marsh, we stepped from bog to bog when we could, but a +large part of the time were knee-deep in the icy water and mud. Our +feet at this time were wrapped in pieces of a camp blanket, tied to +what remained of the moccasin uppers with pieces of our old trolling +line. George and I were all but spent when we reached our old camping +ground on the outlet to Lake Elson, and what it cost Hubbard to get +across that marsh I can only imagine. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as we arrived Hubbard tried the fish. It did not take him long +to become convinced that there was no hope of inducing any to rise. It +was a severe blow to him, but he rallied his courage and soon +apparently was as full of confidence as ever that we should be able to +reach the flour. While Hubbard was trying the fish, George looked the +old camp over carefully for refuse, and found two goose heads, some +goose bones, and the lard pail we had emptied there. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll heat the pail," he said, "and maybe there'll be a little grease +sticking to it that we can stir in our broth." Then, after looking at +us for a moment, he put his hand into the pail and added: "I've got a +little surprise here. I thought I'd keep it until the bones were +boiled, but I guess you might as well have it now." +</P> + +<P> +From out of the pail he brought three little pieces of bacon—just a +mouthful for each. I cannot remember what we said, but as I write I +can almost feel again the thrill of joy that came to me upon beholding +those little pieces of bacon. They seemed like a bit of food from +home, and they were to us as the rarest dainty. +</P> + +<P> +George reboiled the bones with a piece of the hide and the remainder of +the deer's stomach, and with this and the goose bones and heads we +finished our supper. We were fairly comfortable when we went to rest. +The hunger pangs were passing now. I have said that at this time I was +in an abnormal state of mind. I suppose that was true of us all. The +love of life had ceased to be strong upon us. For myself I know that I +was conscious only of a feeling that I must do all I could to preserve +my life and to help the others. Probably it was the beginning of the +feeling of indifference, or reconciliation with the inevitable, that +mercifully comes at the approach of death. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning (Thursday, October 15th) we again went over our +belongings, and decided to abandon numerous articles we had hitherto +hoped to carry through with us—my rifle and cartridges, some pistol +ammunition, the sextant, the tarpaulin, fifteen rolls of photograph +films, my fishing rod, maps, and note book, and various other odds and +ends, including the cleaning rod Hubbard's father had made for him. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder where father and mother are now," said Hubbard, as he took a +last look at the cleaning rod. For a few moments he clung to it +lovingly; then handed it to me with the words, "Put it with your rifle +and fishing rod, b'y." And as I removed the cartridge from the +magazine, and held the rifle up for a last look before wrapping it in +the tarpaulin, he said: "It almost makes me cry to see you leave the +fishing rod. If it is at all possible, we must see that the things are +recovered. If they are, I want you to promise me that when you die +you'll will the rod to me. It has got us more grub than anything else +in the outfit, and it's carried us over some bad times. I'd like to +have it, and I'd keep and cherish it always." +</P> + +<P> +I promised him that he certainly should have it. Well, the rod was +recovered. And now when I look at the old weather-beaten piece of wood +as it reposes comfortably in my den at home, I recall this incident, +and my imagination carries me back to those last fishing days when +Hubbard used it; and I can see again his gaunt form arrayed in rags as +he anxiously whipped the waters on our terrible struggle homeward. It +is the only thing I have with which he was closely associated during +those awful days, and it is my most precious possession. +</P> + +<P> +As we were chewing on a piece of hide and drinking the water from the +reboiled bones at breakfast, Hubbard told us he had had a realistic +dream of rejoining his wife. The boy was again piteously homesick, and +when we shouldered with difficulty our lightened packs and began the +weary struggle on, my heart was heavy with a great dread. Dark clouds +hung low in the sky, but the day was mild. Once or twice while +skirting Lake Elson we halted to pick the few scattering mossberries +that were to be found, once we halted to make tea to stimulate us, and +at our old camp on Mountaineer Lake we again boiled the bones and used +the water to wash down another piece of the caribou hide. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon George took the lead, I followed, and Hubbard brought +up the rear. Suddenly George stopped, dropped his pack, and drew +Hubbard's pistol, which he carried because he was heading the +procession. Hubbard and I also halted and dropped our packs. Into the +brush George disappeared, and we heard, at short intervals, the pistol +crack three times. Then George reappeared with three spruce-grouse. +How our hearts bounded! How we took George's hand and pressed it, +while his face lighted up with the old familiar grin! We fingered the +birds to make sure they were good and fat. We turned them over and +over and gloated over them. George plucked them at once that we might +see their plump bodies. It is true we were not so very hungry, but +those birds meant that we could travel just so much the farther. +</P> + +<P> +We pushed on that we might make our night camp at the place where we +had held the goose banquet on the 3d of August—that glorious night +when we were so eager to proceed, when the northern lights illuminated +the heavens and the lichens gleamed on the barren hill. Hubbard, I +noticed, was lagging, and I told George quietly to set a slower pace. +Then, to give Hubbard encouragement, I fell to the rear. The boy was +staggering fearfully, and I watched him with increasing consternation. +"We must get him out of here! We must! We must!" I kept saying to +myself. The camping place was only two hundred yards away when he sank +on the trail. I was at his side in a moment. He looked up at me with +a pitiful smile, and spoke so low I could scarcely hear him. +</P> + +<P> +"B'y, I've got to rest here—a little—just a little while...you +understand...My legs—have given out." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right, b'y, take a little rest," I said. "You'll be all right +soon. But rest a little. I'll rest a bit with you; and then we'll +leave your pack here, and you walk to camp light, and I'll come back +for your pack." +</P> + +<P> +In a few minutes he got bravely up. We left his pack and together +walked slowly on to join George at the old goose camp on Goose Creek. +Then I returned for the pack that had been left behind. +</P> + +<P> +George boiled one of the grouse for supper. Hubbard told us he was not +discouraged. His weakness, he said, was only momentary, and he was +sure he would be quite himself in the morning, ready to continue the +march homeward. After supper, as he was lying before the fire, he +asked me, if I was not too tired, to read him the latter part of the +sixth chapter of Matthew. I took the Book and read as he requested, +closing with the words: +</P> + +<P> +"Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, +and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, +O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we +eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For +after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father +knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the +kingdom of God and His righteousness; and all these things shall be +added unto you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the +morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto +the day is the evil thereof." +</P> + +<P> +"How beautiful, how encouraging that is!" said Hubbard, as I put away +the Book. He crawled into the tent to go to sleep. Then: "I'm so +happy, b'y, so very, very happy to-night...for we're going home...we're +going home." And he slept. +</P> + +<P> +Before I lay down I wrote in my diary: +</P> + +<P> +"Hubbard is in very bad shape—completely worn out physically and +mentally—but withal a great hero, never complaining and always trying +to cheer us up." +</P> + +<P> +George said he was sick when he went to rest, and that added to my +concern. +</P> + +<P> +Friday morning (October 16th) came clear, mild, and beautiful. I was +up at break of day to start the fire, and soon was followed by George +and a little later by Hubbard. We all said we were feeling better. +George shot a foolhardy whiskey jack that ventured too near the camp, +and it went into the pot with a grouse for breakfast. The meal eaten, +we all felt very much stronger, but decided that more outfit must be +abandoned. I gave George my extra undershirt and a blue flannel shirt, +both of which he donned. Every scrap we thought at the time we could +do without, including many photograph films and George's blanket, was +cached. +</P> + +<P> +After Hubbard read aloud John xv, we resumed the struggle. Naturally +George and I relieved Hubbard of everything he would permit us to. The +fact was, we could not have taken much more and moved. When Hubbard +broke down on the trail, it was strictly necessary for me to make two +trips with the packs; although his weighed something less than ten +pounds, I could not have carried it in addition to my own if my life +had depended upon it. +</P> + +<P> +Just below the place where Hubbard caught so many fish that day in +August that we killed the geese, we stopped for a moment to rest. +Hardly had we halted when George grabbed Hubbard's rifle, exclaiming, +"Deer!" About four hundred yards below us, a magnificent caribou, his +head held high, dashed across the stream and into the bush. He was on +our lee and had winded us. No shot was fired. One fleeting glance, +and he was gone. Our feelings can be imagined. His capture would have +secured our safety. +</P> + +<P> +We struggled on. At midday we ate our last grouse. At this stopping +place George abandoned his waterproof camp bag and his personal effects +that he might be able to carry Hubbard's rifle. This relieved Hubbard +of seven pounds, but he again failed before we reached our night camp. +It was like the previous evening. With jaws set he tottered grimly on +until his legs refused to carry him farther, and he sank to the ground. +Again I helped him into camp, and returned for his pack. +</P> + +<P> +We pitched the tent facing a big rock so that the heat from the fire, +blazing between, might be reflected into the tent, the front of which +was thrown wide open. Of course George and I did all the camp work. +Fortunately there was not much to do; our camps being pitched on the +sites of previous ones, we had stakes ready to hand for the tent, and +in this part of the country we were able to find branches and logs that +we could burn without cutting. We still had one axe with us, but +neither George nor I had the strength to swing it. +</P> + +<P> +The night was cold and damp. For supper we had another piece of the +caribou hide, and water from the much-boiled bones with what I believed +was the last of the pea meal—about two spoonfuls that Hubbard shook +into the pot from the package, which he then threw away. As we +reclined in the open front of the tent before the fire, I again read +from the Bible, and again a feeling of religious exaltation came to +Hubbard. "I'm so happy, and oh! so sleepy," he murmured, and was +quiet. He did not make his usual entry in his diary. In my own diary +for this date I find: +</P> + +<P> +"Hubbard's condition is pitiable, but he bears himself like the hero +that he is—trying always to cheer and encourage us. He is visibly +failing. His voice is very weak and low. I fear he will break down at +every step. O God, what can we do! How can we save him!" +</P> + +<P> +On Saturday (October 17th) threatening clouds overcast the sky, and a +raw wind was blowing. It penetrated our rags and set us a-shiver. At +dawn we had more water from the bones and more of the hide. Cold and +utterly miserable, we forced our way along. Our progress was becoming +slower and slower. But every step was taking us nearer home, we said, +and with that thought we encouraged ourselves. At noon we came upon +our first camp above the Susan River. There George picked up one of +our old flour bags. A few lumps of mouldy flour were clinging to it, +and he scraped them carefully into the pot to give a little substance +to the bone water. We also found a box with a bit of baking powder +still in it. The powder was streaked with rust from the tin, but we +ate it all. +</P> + +<P> +Then Hubbard made a find—a box nearly half full of pasty mustard. +After we had each eaten a mouthful, George put the remainder in the +pot. He was about to throw the box away when Hubbard asked that it be +returned to him. Hubbard took the box and sat holding it in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"That box came from Congers," he said, as if in a reverie. "It came +from my home in Congers. Mina has had this very box in her hands. It +came from the little grocery store where I've been so often. Mina +handed it to me before I left home. She said the mustard might be +useful for plasters. We've eaten it instead. I wonder where my girl +is now. I wonder when I'll see her again. Yes, she had that very box +in her hands-in her hands! She's been such a good wife to me." +</P> + +<P> +Slowly he bent his head, and the tears trickled down his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +George and I turned away. +</P> + +<P> +It was near night when we reached the point near the junction of the +Susan River and Goose Creek where we were to cross the river to what +had been our last camping ground in the awful valley, and which was to +prove our last camp in Labrador. Hubbard staggered along during the +afternoon with the greatest difficulty, and finally again sank to the +ground, completely exhausted. George took his pack across the river. +While he crouched there on the trail, Hubbard's face bore an expression +of absolute despair. At length I helped him to his feet, and in +silence we forded the shallow stream. +</P> + +<P> +Our camp was made a short distance below the junction of the streams, +among the fir trees a little way from the river bank. Here and there +through the forest were numerous large rocks. Before one of these we +pitched the tent, with the front of it open to receive the heat from +the fire as it was reflected from the rock. More bone water and hide +served us for supper, with the addition of a yeast cake from a package +George had carried throughout the trip and never used. Huddling in the +front of the tent, we counselled. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, boys," said Hubbard, "I'm busted. I can't go any +farther—that's plain. I can't go any farther. We've got to do +something." +</P> + +<P> +In the silence the crackling of the logs became pronounced. +</P> + +<P> +"George," Hubbard continued, "maybe you had better try to reach Blake's +camp, and send in help if you're strong enough to get there. If you +find a cache, and don't find Blake, try to get back with some of the +grub. There's that old bag with a little flour in it—you might find +that. And then the milk powder and the lard farther down. Maybe +Wallace could go with you as far as the flour and bring back a little +of it here. What do you say, b'y?" +</P> + +<P> +"I say it's well," I answered. "We've got to do something at once." +</P> + +<P> +"It's the only thing to do," said George. "I'm willin', and I'll do +the best I can to find Blake and get help." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," said Hubbard, "you'd better start in the morning, boys. If you +don't find the bag, you'd better go on with George, Wallace; for then +there would be no use of your trying to get back here. Yes, boys, +you'd better start in the morning. I'll be quite comfortable here +alone until help comes." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll come back, flour or no flour," I said, dreading the thought of +his staying there alone in the wilderness. +</P> + +<P> +We planned it all before Hubbard went to sleep. George and I, when we +started in the morning, were to carry as little as possible. I thought +I should be able to reach the flour bag and be back within three days. +We were to prepare for Hubbard a supply of wood, and leave him +everything on hand that might be called food—the bones and the +remainder of the hide, a sack with some lumps of flour sticking to it +that I had recovered at this camp, and the rest of the yeast cakes. +George and I were to depend solely on the chance of finding game. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm much relieved now," said Hubbard, when it had all been settled. +"I feel happy and contented. I feel that our troubles are about ended. +I am very, very happy and contented." +</P> + +<P> +He lay down in his blanket. After a little he said: "B'y, I'm rather +chilly; won't you make the fire a little bigger." +</P> + +<P> +I threw on more wood, and when I sat down I told him I should keep the +fire going all night; for the air was damp and chill. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, thank you, b'y," he murmured, "thank you. You're so good." After +another silence, the words came faintly: "B'y, won't you read to me +those two chapters we've had before?—the fourteenth of John and the +thirteenth of First Corinthians... I'd like to hear them again, b'y... +I'm very... sleepy... but I want to hear you read before... I go... to +sleep." +</P> + +<P> +Leaning over so that the light of the fire might shine on the Book, I +turned to the fourteenth of John and began: "'Let not your heart be +troubled'" I paused to glance at Hubbard. He was asleep. Like a weary +child, he had fallen asleep with the first words. The dancing flames +lit up his poor, haggard, brown face; but upon it now there was no look +of suffering; it was radiant with peace. +</P> + +<P> +George lay by his side, also asleep. Thus I began a night of weary +vigil and foreboding. My heart was heavy with a presentiment of +something dreadful. In the forest beyond the fire the darkness was +intense. There was a restless stir among the fir tops; then a weary, +weary sighing. The wind had arisen. I dozed. But what was that! I sat +suddenly erect. +</P> + +<P> +On the canvas above me sounded a patter, patter, patter. Rain! +</P> + +<P> +Gradually the real and the seeming became blended. Beyond the +fire-glow, on the edge of the black pall of night, horrid shapes began +to gather. They leered at me, and mocked me, and oh! they were telling +me something dreadful was going to happen. A sudden jerk, and I sat up +and stared wildly about me. Nothing but the sighing tree-tops, and the +patter, patter, patter of the rain. The fire had died down. I +struggled to my feet, and threw on more wood. +</P> + +<P> +Again the horrid shapes leered at me from out the gloom. Then I heard +myself exclaiming, "No, no, no!" The nameless dread was strong upon me. +I listened intently for Hubbard's breathing. Had it ceased? I crawled +over and peered long and anxiously at his face—his face which was so +spectral and wan in the uncertain firelight. Twice I did this. A +confused sense of things evil and malicious, a confused sense of +sighing wind and pattering rain, a confused sense of starts and jerks +and struggles with wood, and the night wore on. +</P> + +<P> +The black slowly faded into drab. The trees, dripping with moisture, +gradually took shape. The day of our parting had come. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVII. THE PARTING +</H3> + +<P> +It was a drizzling rain, and the sombre clouds hung low in the sky. +The wind appeared to be steadily increasing. The day was Sunday, +October 18th. Presently George sat up, rubbed his eyes and gazed about +him for a moment in bewilderment. +</P> + +<P> +"Mornin', Wallace," he said, when he had collected his senses, "that +blamed rain will make the travellin' hard, won't it?" +</P> + +<P> +He tied the pieces of blanket to his feet, and started for the river to +get a kettle of water with which to reboil the bones. The movement +aroused Hubbard, and he, too, sat up. +</P> + +<P> +"How's the weather, b'y?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"It makes me think of Longfellow's 'Rainy Day,"' I replied. "'The day +is cold, and dark, and dreary.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he quickly returned; "but +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;<BR> + Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +I looked at him with admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Hubbard," I exclaimed, "you're a wonder! You've a way of making our +worst troubles seem light. I've been sitting here imagining all sorts +things." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no call to worry, by," he smilingly said; "we'll soon have +grub now, and then we can rest and sleep—and get strong." +</P> + +<P> +He arose from his blanket, and walked out of the tent to look at the +sky. Slowly he returned, and sank wearily down. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm feeling stronger and better than I did last night," he said; "but +I'm too weak to walk or stand up long." +</P> + +<P> +When our breakfast of bones and hide boiled with a yeast cake was +ready, he sat up in the tent to receive his share. While drinking the +water and chewing the hide, we again carefully considered how long it +should take George to reach Grand Lake, and how long it would be before +help could arrive, if he were able to obtain any, and how long it would +require me to reach the flour and return. It was, roughly speaking, +forty miles to Grand Lake, and fifteen miles to the flour. +</P> + +<P> +That there was room for doubt as to whether my strength would carry me +to the flour and back again, we all recognised; and we fully realised, +that if George failed to reach Grand Lake, or, reaching there, failed +to find Blake or Blake's cache, our doom would be sealed; but so long +had death been staring us in the face that it had ceased to have for us +any terror. It was agreed, however, that each man should do his best +to live as long as possible. I told Hubbard I should do my utmost to +be back in three days, even if I did not find the flour. +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard remained seated in the front of the tent while George and I +went about gathering a supply of wood that we thought should last him +until someone returned. George also brought a kettle of water from the +river, and thoughtfully placed it near the fire for Hubbard's use in +boiling the bones and hide, all of which we left with him together with +the yeast and some tea. I also turned over to him the pair of blankets +he had delivered to me at Halifax—the birthday gift from my sisters. +</P> + +<P> +These preparations for Hubbard's comfort completed, George and I +returned to the tent to arrange the kits we were to take with us. +Hubbard sat in the middle of the tent towards the rear; George and I on +either side of him in the front. Hubbard gave George his pistol and +compass, and I had my own pistol and compass. The pistols we fastened +to our belts along with a sheath knife and tin cup. Having a case for +my compass, I wore it also on my belt; George placed his in his pocket. +Each of us had half a blanket, this to be our only covering at night. +George placed his half, together with a tea pail and some tea, in the +waterproof bag he had been using to carry food. This bag he bound with +a pack strap, leaving a loop to sling over his shoulder. I also bound +my half a blanket with a pack strap, thinking as I did so that I soon +might want to eat the strap. And then, when George and I had filled +our waterproof boxes with wax taper matches, and placed a handful of +pistol cartridges in our pockets, we were ready to start. +</P> + +<P> +At this point I suggested it might be well for each man to make a note +of such disposition as he desired made of his effects. George made an +entry in his note book, and asked Hubbard to write when we were gone a +letter to Mr. King, the Hudson's Bay Company's agent at Missanabie, in +reference to his (George's) affairs at that post. I then made the last +entry in my diary, and with it wrote what I believed might be a last +message to my sisters and my friend and associate in business, Mr. +Alonzo G. McLaughlin. I put the diary with my other papers in my camp +bag, and placed the bag in the rear of the tent, where the note Hubbard +was to write for George was also to be placed; we believed that if +worst came to worst the tent was more likely to be found than our +bodies down on the trail. Hubbard had been watching us silently while +we did these things, and now he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Wallace, if you get out of this, and I don't, you'll have to write the +story of the trip." +</P> + +<P> +I expressed some doubt as to my ability, but he made me promise I would +do the best I could. I also promised, at his request, that if I +survived him I should place his diary in his wife's hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, b'y," he said. "And now before you leave me won't you read +to me again?—I want to hear that fourteenth chapter of John and the +thirteenth of First Corinthians. I fell asleep last night while you +were reading, I was so tired. I'm sleepy now, very sleepy; but I'll +keep awake this time while you read." +</P> + +<P> +I got my testament from my camp bag and read both chapters through, +noting as I read that the look of happiness and peace was returning to +Hubbard's poor, wan face. When I had finished, he said quietly: +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, b'y, thank you very much. Isn't that comforting?—'Let not +your heart be troubled.' It makes me feel good. I've faith that we'll +all be saved. I'm not worried. McLean was caught just as we are. He +sent a man for help and got out all right. God will send us help, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said I, "and we shall soon be safe home." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll soon be safe home" repeated Hubbard—"safe home. How happy that +makes me feel!" +</P> + +<P> +It was time for George and me to go. But I could not say good-bye just +yet. I turned my back to Hubbard and faced the fire. The tears were +welling up into my eyes, and I struggled for self-control. George sat +silent, too, and his face was strangely drawn. For a full ten minutes +we sat silently gazing into the fire. Finally George arose. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Wallace, we'd better start now." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I said; "we'd better start." +</P> + +<P> +I collected myself as best I could, and, turning to Hubbard, held out +my hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, b'y; I'll be back soon." And then, as I looked into his +poor, wistful eyes, I broke down and sobbed. +</P> + +<P> +I crawled over to him, and put my arm about him. I kissed his cheek, +and he kissed my cheek. We embraced each other, and for a moment held +our faces close together. Then I drew away. +</P> + +<P> +George was crying, too. The dear fellow went over to Hubbard, stooped +and kissed his cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"With God's help, I'll save you, Hubbard!" +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard kissed his cheek, and they embraced. +</P> + +<P> +George slung his bundle on his shoulder, and I took up mine. We turned +to go. But I had to return. I stooped and again kissed Hubbard's +cheek, and he again kissed mine. He was quite calm—had been calm +throughout. Only his eyes shone with that look of wistful longing. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, boys, and God be with you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye!" +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye!" +</P> + +<P> +And George and I left him. About twenty yards away I turned for a last +look at the tent. Hubbard evidently had immediately lain down; for he +was not to be seen. All I saw was the little peak of balloon silk that +had been our home for so many weeks, the fire blazing between it and +the big rock, the kettle of water by the fire, and the white moss and +the dripping wet fir trees all about. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +Some one hundred and fifty yards farther on George and I forded a +brook, after which our course was through closely-grown, diminutive fir +trees until we came to a series of low, barren knolls. On these knolls +we found some mossberries. Then we pushed on. It was dreadfully slow +travelling. The wind was in the east, and was rising. The drizzling +rain had become a downpour, and it was dashed into our faces in sheets. +The cold was increasing. Our hands were stiff and numb. Somewhat +after midday George threw down his pack. "We'll have a spell [rest] +and a cup of tea to warm us up," he said. +</P> + +<P> +I did not protest. The previous night had been a trying one, and I was +very tired. We drew together some wood. With his sheath-knife George +whittled some shavings, and a fire was soon blazing. When the kettle +had been placed over the fire to boil, George drew out of his bag a +package—yes, it was a half-pound package of pea meal! At first I +could not believe my eyes, and I stood stupidly staring as George +prepared to stir some of it into the kettle. At length I found my +tongue. +</P> + +<P> +"George," I cried indignantly, "where did you get that pea meal?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hubbard gave it to me this morning while you were gettin' wood," he +answered promptly. +</P> + +<P> +"But why did you take it? +</P> + +<P> +"He made me take it. I didn't want to, but he said I must. He said +we'd be workin' hard, and we'd need it, and if we didn't have somethin' +to eat, we couldn't travel far and couldn't get help to him. We ought +to have it as much for his sake as for ours, he said, and I had to take +it from him to make him feel right." +</P> + +<P> +Hubbard had evidently reserved that last half-pound of pea meal to be +used in a last extremity, and as the argument he had used to force it +on George had been at least specious, I could say nothing. George put +one-third of the package (one-sixth of a pound) into the kettle, and we +each drank a pint of the soup. It was very thin, but it did us good. +</P> + +<P> +After a half-hour's rest, we pressed on as rapidly as possible, but +when night overtook us we could not have travelled more than six miles +from camp. To the storm, as well as our weakness, was due our slow +progress. As the afternoon wore on, the storm became furious. The +rain descended in drenching sheets, and staggering blasts of wind drove +it into our faces. Even if darkness had not stopped us, further +progress in the face of the tempest would have been impossible. +</P> + +<P> +We selected for our bivouac as sheltered a spot as possible in a spruce +growth, hauled together a good supply of small dead trees and made a +fire. For supper we had one-half of what remained of the pea meal, +reserving the other half (one-sixth of a pound) for breakfast. There +was a little comfort to be gained from the fire. The rain still +descended upon us in sheets. The blast of wind drove the smoke into +our eyes and blinded us. Despite our weariness we could not sleep. +George lay down, but I sat crouching before the fire. We tried to keep +our pieces of blanket over our heads, but when we did so we nearly +suffocated. Now and again one or the other would rise to throw on more +wood. Towards midnight the wind shifted, and snow began to fall. It +fell as I never saw snow fall before. And the wind never ceased, and +the smoke was more blinding than ever, and the night grew colder. +</P> + +<P> +There were fully six inches of snow on the ground when the clouds broke +just before dawn, and before the first rays of the sun greeted us the +wind died away. It was Monday, October 19th. With the return of +daylight we ate the rest of the pea meal, and resumed our march down +the valley. The daylight proved that my eyes had been greatly affected +by the smoke of our night's fire. Everything had a hazy appearance. +George complained of the same trouble. Soon after we started, George +came upon a grouse track in the fresh snow, and followed it to a clump +of bushes a short distance off. He aimed his pistol with great care, +but the bullet only knocked a few feathers out of the bird, and it flew +away, to George's keen chagrin and my bitter disappointment. +</P> + +<P> +The flour bag we were to look for was on the opposite or south side of +the river, and it was necessary to cross. Before noon we reached a +place at which George said it would be as easy to ford the stream as at +any other. The icy water came almost up to our armpits, but we made +the other shore without mishap. There we halted to build a fire and +thaw ourselves out; for immediately upon emerging from the river our +clothing froze hard and stiff. While waiting we had some hot tea, and +as quickly as possible pushed on. We must reach the flour bag that +night. +</P> + +<P> +I found it hard to keep the pace George was setting, and began to lag +wofully. Several times he had to wait for me to overtake him. We came +upon a caribou trail in the snow, and followed it so long as it kept +our direction. To some extent the broken path aided our progress. In +the afternoon we came upon another grouse track. George followed it to +a clump of trees, where the bird was discovered sitting on a limb. +This time his aim was accurate, and the bird fell at his feet. Quickly +he plucked the wings, cut them off and handed me one with the remark: +"They say raw partridge is good when a fellus' weak." It was +delicious. I ate the wing, warm with the bird's life blood, bones and +all, and George ate the other wing. +</P> + +<P> +I soon found it utterly impossible to keep George's pace, and became so +exhausted that I was forced to take short rests. At length I told +George he had better go ahead and look for the flour; that I should +rest, follow his trail and overtake him later. He went on, but just +over the bare knoll we were crossing I found him sitting in the snow +waiting for me. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't feel right to go ahead and leave you," he said. "Do you see +that second knoll?" He pointed to one of a series of round barren +knolls about half a mile down the river. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, don't you remember it? No? Why, that's where we camped when we +threw the flour away, and that's where we'll stop to-night. We'd +better eat a mouthful to help us on." +</P> + +<P> +He had plucked the head and neck of the grouse, and now proceeded to +cut them off near the body. To me he gave the neck, and ate the head +himself—raw, of course. +</P> + +<P> +It was just dusk when we reached the knoll George had designated. +Straightway he went to a bush, ran his hand under it and pulled +out—the bag we were looking for. We opened it eagerly. As has been +said, we left about four pounds of flour in it. Now there was a lump +of green and black mould. However, we rejoiced at finding it; for it +was something and it might sustain our lives. It might send George to +the lard, and keep Hubbard and me until help could arrive. +</P> + +<P> +On this side of the Susan the country for some distance had been +burned; but, while there were no standing trees, and the place was +entirely unsheltered, fallen spruce trees covered the ground in every +direction, so we found no difficulty in getting together a good pile of +dry wood for our night's fire, and we soon had a rousing big one going. +For supper we ate all of the grouse boiled with some of the flour mould +stirred in. It was a splendid supper. +</P> + +<P> +I had not sat long before the fire when I felt a strange sensation in +my eyes. It was as if they had been filled with sharp splinters, and I +found it impossible to open them. I was afflicted with +smoke-blindness, which is almost identical in its effect to +snow-blindness. George filled my pipe with dried tea leaves and just a +bit of his precious tobacco; then lit it for me, as I could not see to +do it myself. After our smoke we lay down, and I slept heavily; it was +practically the first sleep I had had in three days. Some time in the +night George awoke me to make me eat a little of a concoction of the +mouldy flour and water, cooked thick and a trifle burned after the +style of nekapooshet, an Indian dish of which George was very fond. At +the first signs of dawn he again roused me, saying: +</P> + +<P> +"It's time to be up, Wallace. We're goin' to have more snow to travel +in." +</P> + +<P> +He was right. The clouds were hanging low and heavy, and the first +scattering flakes were falling of a storm that was to last for ten +days. I was able to open my eyes in the morning, but everything still +looked hazy. We boiled some of the wretched mouldy flour for +breakfast, and then divided what remained, George taking the larger +share, as he had the most work to do. Looking critically at my share, +he asked: +</P> + +<P> +"How long can you keep alive on that?" +</P> + +<P> +"It will take me two days to reach Hubbard," I replied, "and the two of +us might live three days more on it—on a pinch." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think you can live as long as that?" said George, looking me +hard in the eye. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Then in five days I'll have help to you, if there's help to be had at +Grand Lake. Day after to-morrow I'll be at Grand Lake. Those fellus'll +be strong and can reach camp in two days, so expect 'em." +</P> + +<P> +It was time for us to separate. +</P> + +<P> +"George," I asked, "have you your Testament with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's the Book of Common Prayer," he said, drawing it from his pocket; +"but it's got the Psalms in it." +</P> + +<P> +He handed me the tiny leather-covered book, but I could not see the +print; the haze before my eyes was too thick. I returned the book to +him, and asked him to read one of the Psalms. Quite at haphazard, I am +sure, he turned to the ninety-first, and this is what he read: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Whoso dwelleth under the defence of the Most High; shall abide under +the shadow of the Almighty. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"I will say unto the Lord, Thou art my hope, and my stronghold: my God, +in him will I trust. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"For he shall deliver thee from the snare of the hunter: and from the +noisome pestilence. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"He shall defend thee under his wings, and thou shalt be safe under his +feathers: his faithfulness and truth shall be thy shield and buckler. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by night: nor for the arrow +that flieth by day; +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"For the pestilence that walketh in darkness: nor for the sickness that +destroyeth in the noon-day. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"A thousand shall fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand: +but it shall not come nigh thee. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Yea, with thine eyes shalt thou behold: and see the reward of the +ungodly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"For thou, Lord, art my hope: thou hast set thine house of defence very +high. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"There shall be no evil happen unto thee: neither shall any plague come +nigh thy dwelling. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"For he shall give his angels charge over thee: to keep thee In all thy +ways. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"They shall bear thee in their hands: that thou hurt not thy foot +against a stone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Thou shalt go upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon +shalt thou tread under thy feet. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Because He hath set His love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I +will set him up, because he hath known my name. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"He shall call upon me, and I will hear him: yea, I am with him in +trouble; I will deliver him and bring him to bonour. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"With long life will I satisfy him: and show him my salvation" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The Psalm made a deep impression upon me. "For he shall give his +angels charge over thee: to keep thee in all thy ways." How strange it +seems, in view of what happened to me, that George should have read +that sentence. +</P> + +<P> +We arose to go on our separate ways, George twenty-five miles down the +valley to Grand Lake, and I fifteen miles up the valley to Hubbard. +The snow was falling thick and fast. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better make a cape of your blanket," suggested George. "Let me +fix it for you." +</P> + +<P> +He placed the blanket around my shoulders, and on either side of the +cloth where it came together under my chin made a small hole with his +knife. Through these holes he ran a piece of our old trolling line, +and tied the ends. Then he similarly arranged his own blanket. +</P> + +<P> +I held out my hand to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, George. Take care of yourself." +</P> + +<P> +He clasped my hand warmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, Wallace. Expect help in five days." +</P> + +<P> +Near the top of a knoll I stopped and looked back. With my afflicted +eyes I could barely make out George ascending another knoll. He also +stopped and looked back. I waved my hand to him, and he waved his hand +to me and shouted something unintelligible. Then he disappeared in the +snow, and as he disappeared a silence came on the world, to remain +unbroken for ten days. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVIII. WANDERING ALONE +</H3> + +<P> +With every hour the storm gathered new force, and over the barren +knolls, along which my course for some distance lay, the snow whirled +furiously. The track George and I had made on our downward journey +soon was obliterated. Once in the forenoon, as I pushed blindly on +against the storm, I heard a snort, and, looking up, beheld, only a few +yards away, a big caribou. He was standing directly in my path. For a +second he regarded me, with his head thrown back in fear and wonder; +and then, giving another snort, he dashed away into the maze of +whirling snow. +</P> + +<P> +My eyes troubled me greatly, and the pain at length grew so intense +that I was forced to sit down in the snow for perhaps half an hour with +both eyes tightly closed. I was keeping some distance from the river, +as the obstructions here were fewer than near the bank. In the +afternoon it occurred to me that I might have turned in my course, and +I took my compass from its case, to satisfy myself that I was going in +the right direction; but my sight was so impaired that I could not read +the dial, nor be certain which way the needle pointed. And I wondered +vaguely whether I was becoming totally blind. +</P> + +<P> +My day's progress was not satisfactory. I had hoped to reach the place +where George and I had forded the river, and cross to the north shore +before bivouacking, but in the deepening snow it was impossible. With +the first indications of night, I halted in a thick spruce grove near +the river and drew together a fairly good supply of dead wood. On the +under side of the branches of the fir trees was generally to be found a +thick growth of hairy moss, and with a handful of this as tinder it did +not take me long to get a good fire blazing. Close to the fire I threw +a pile of spruce boughs that I broke from low branches and the smaller +trees. I melted snow in my cup for water, and in this put a few lumps +of mould from the flour bag, eating the mixture after it had cooked a +while. On the couch of boughs by the fire I spent a fairly comfortable +night, waking only at intervals to throw on more wood and shake the +snow from my back. +</P> + +<P> +The storm was still raging in the morning (Wednesday, October 21st). +With the first grey streaks of dawn, I boiled another cup of snow water +and mould, and then, slinging the flour bag over my shoulder, began my +day's struggle. The snow was now knee-deep. Soon I reached the fording +place. The river was beginning to freeze over. For two or three yards +from shore the ice bore my weight; then I sank up to my waist in the +cold current. Approaching the other shore, I broke the outer ice with +my arms until it became thick enough to permit me to climb out upon it. +</P> + +<P> +The ice that immediately formed on my clothing make walking impossible, +and reluctantly I halted to build a fire and dry myself. This took +fully an hour and a half, to my extreme vexation. I realised now that +my hope of reaching Hubbard that night was vain. While I dried my +clothing, I made a cup of tea. I had just enough left for two brewings, +so after drinking the tea I preserved the leaves for further use, +wrapping them carefully in a bit of rag. Once more on my way up the +valley, I found, to my consternation and almost despair, that my eyes +would again compel me to stop, and for nearly an hour I sat with them +closed. That night, with the snow still falling, though very lightly, +I made my couch of boughs by a fairly comfortable fire, and rested well. +</P> + +<P> +On Thursday morning (October 22d) a light snow was failing, and the +weather was very cold. The cup of thin gruel that I made from the +green lumps of mould nauseated me, and I had to brew some tea to settle +my stomach and stimulate me. With my piece of blanket drawn over my +head to protect my ears from the biting wind, and with my hands wrapped +in the folds, I continued my struggle towards camp. I had to force my +way, blindly and desperately, through thick clumps of fir trees, and as +the branches were hanging low under their weight of feathery snow, I +continually received a deluge of snow in my face. +</P> + +<P> +My stock of matches was small and time was precious, and I did not stop +at noon to build a fire. Even when night began to close in upon me I +still plodded on, believing that I now must be near Hubbard. The snow +was falling gently, and as there was a moon behind the clouds the night +was sufficiently light for me to make my way tediously through the +trees, with the roar of the rapids to guide me. It must have been near +midnight when, utterly exhausted, I was forced to abandon the hope of +finding Hubbard before morning. Fearing that the mould would again +sicken me, I ate nothing when I halted; I simply collected a few dry +sticks and huddled for the remainder of the night by a miserable fire, +dozing and awaking with a shudder from awful dreams. +</P> + +<P> +The storm continued during the night, and with the morning of Friday +(October 23d) broke upon the world and me with renewed fury. I +prepared myself another dose of the mould, and forced it down. I was +nervously anxious to get on and find Hubbard. I knew I must be near +him now, although the snow had changed the whole face of the country +and obliterated all the landmarks. Soon I crossed a brook, frozen and +covered with snow, that I felt must be the one near our camp. Eagerly +I looked about me for the tent. Because of the falling snow and the +snow-bent branches, I could scarcely see twenty yards in any direction. +From snow-covered rock to snow-covered rock I went, believing each in +turn to be the tent, but always to meet disappointment. Repeatedly I +stopped to peer into the maze of snow for smoke. But there was none. +Again and again I shouted. But there was no answer. The tent was +really near me, but it kept its secret well. +</P> + +<P> +I travelled on and on. I became desperate. Over and over I repeated +to myself, "I must find Hubbard before night comes—I must find him—I +must—I must." At length the first signs of night warned me that I +must collect my wood, that I might be as comfortable as possible +through the dreary hours of darkness. As night came on the storm +moderated. The wind ceased. An unwonted, solemn, awful stillness came +upon the world. It seemed to choke me. I was filled with an +unutterable, a sickening dread. Hubbard's face as I had last seen it +was constantly before me. Was he looking and waiting for me? Why could +I not find him? I must find him in the morning. I must, I must. +Before going to sleep I made some more gruel and tea, drinking them +both as a duty. +</P> + +<P> +The snow was falling gently on Saturday (October 24th), the wind had +mercifully abated, and the temperature was somewhat milder. After more +gruel and the last cup of tea I was to have in my lonely wanderings, I +renewed my search for Hubbard. I decided that possibly I was below the +camp, and pushed on to the westward. Finally I became convinced I was +in a part of the country I had never seen before. I began to feel that +possibly I was far above the camp; that a rescuing party had found +Hubbard, and that, as my tracks in the snow had been covered, they had +abandoned the hope of finding me and had returned. They might even +have passed me in the valley below; it was quite possible. But perhaps +George's strength had failed him, and help never would come to any of +us. +</P> + +<P> +I turned about, and again started down the valley. After a time I +attempted to cross the ice on the river, to try and discover some +familiar landmark on the south shore. In midstream, where the current +had not permitted thick ice to form, I broke through. The water was +nearly up to my armpits. Standing there with the icy current swirling +about me, I said, "What's the use?" It seemed to me I had reached the +limit of human endurance. Instead of trying to struggle on, how much +pleasanter to permit myself to sink beneath the water and thus end it +all! It would be such a relief to die. +</P> + +<P> +Then there came to me the remembrance that it was my duty to live as +long as I could. I must do my best. As long as I had any strength +left, I must exert myself to live. With a great effort I climbed out +on the hard ice, and made my way back to the north shore. Night was +approaching. I staggered into the spruce growth, and there came upon +the same brook I have previously mentioned as crossing. Near its bank +I made my night fire. That fire was within two hundred yards of the +tent. Perhaps it is just as well that I did not know it. +</P> + +<P> +The snow, which had fallen rather mildly, all day, thickened with the +coming of night. All the loose wood was now buried under the snow, and +it was with difficulty that I gathered a scant supply for the night. +My wet rags were freezing hard and stiff. I moved about, half-dazed. +I broke only a few branches for my bed, and sat down. Scarcely had I +done so when a woman's voice came to me, kindly and low and encouraging. +</P> + +<P> +"Hadn't you better break a few more boughs?" it said. "You will rest +better then." +</P> + +<P> +There was no mistaking the voice. It was clear and distinct. It was +the voice of my wife, who had been dead for more than three years. I +remember it did not impress me as being at all strange that my wife, +who was dead, should be speaking to me up there in the Labrador +wilderness. It seemed to me perfectly natural that she should be +looking after my comfort, even as she had done in life. I arose and +broke the boughs. +</P> + +<P> +I am not a spiritist. I have never taken any stock in the theory that +the spirits of the dead are able to communicate with the living. So +far as I have thought about them at all, it has been my opinion that +spiritists are either fools or frauds. But I am endeavouring to give a +faithful account of my feelings and sensations at the time of which I +am writing, and the incident of the voice cannot be ignored. Perhaps +it was all a delusion—an hallucination, if you will, due to the +gradual breaking down of my body and mind. As to that, the reader can +form his own conclusions. Certain it is, that from this time on, when +I needed help and encouragement the most, I felt a vague assurance that +my wife was by my side; and I verily believe, that if it had not been +for this,—hallucination, delusion, actuality, reality, or whatever it +may have been,—I should now be in a land where the truth about these +things is probably known for certain. +</P> + +<P> +At times I even thought I saw my wife. And often, often throughout +those terrible days her voice came to me, kindly and low and +encouraging. When I felt I really could plod no farther through the +snow, her voice would tell me not to lose heart, but to do my best, and +all would be right in the end. And when, wearied beyond measure at +night, I would fall into a heavy sleep, and my fire would burn low, a +hand on my shoulder would arouse me, and her voice would tell me to get +up and throw on more wood. Now and again I fancied I heard the voice +of my mother, who died when I was a boy, also encouraging and +reassuring me. Indescribably comforting were those voices, whatever +their origin may have been. They soothed me, and brought balm for my +loneliness. In the wilderness, and amid the falling snow, those that +loved me were ministering unto me and keeping me from harm. At least, +so it seemed to me. And now, as I think of those dear voices, and feel +once more that loving touch on my shoulder, there comes back to me that +verse from the Psalm George read at our parting—"For He shall give His +angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways." +</P> + +<P> +It is all like a half-dream to me now. I know that after Saturday +night (October 24th), when I bivouacked within a stone's throw of +Hubbard's tent, I lost all count of the days, and soon could not recall +even the month. I travelled on and on, always down the valley. +Sometimes I fancied I heard men shouting, and I would reply. But the +men did not come, and I would say to myself over and over again, "Man +proposes, God disposes; it is His will and best for all." +</P> + +<P> +The flour mould nauseated me to such an extent that for a day at a time +I could not force myself to eat it. The snow clogged in all that was +left of my cowhide moccasins (larigans), and I took them off and +fastened them to my belt, walking thereafter in my stocking feet. I +wore two pairs of woollen socks, but holes already were beginning to +appear in the toes and heels. The bushes tore away the legs of my +trousers completely, and my drawers, which thus became the sole +protection of my legs from the middle of my thighs down, had big holes +in them. Each night I cut a piece of leather from my moccasin uppers, +and boiled it in my cup until morning, when I would eat it and drink +the water. I found afterward, carefully preserved in my match box, one +of the brass eyelets from the moccasins. Probably I put it away +thinking I might have to eat even that. +</P> + +<P> +I knew there was something the matter with my feet; they complained to +me every night. They seemed to me like individuals that were dependent +upon me, and they told me it was my duty to care for them. But I gave +no heed to their complaints. I had enough to do to care for myself. +My feet must look out for themselves. Why should I worry about them? +</P> + +<P> +And still it snowed, night and day—sometimes gently, sometimes +blindingly; but always it snowed. Once while plodding along the side +of a rocky hill, I staggered over the edge of a shelving rock and fell +several feet into a snow drift. I was uninjured, but extricating +myself was desperately hard work, and it was very pleasant and soft in +the snow, and I was so tired and sleepy. Why not give it up and go to +sleep? But she was with me, and she whispered, "Struggle on, and all +will be well," and reluctantly I dragged my poor old body out. +</P> + +<P> +There were times when the feeling was strong upon me that I had been +alone and wandering on forever, and that, like the Wandering Jew, I +must go on forever. At other times I fancied I was dead, and that the +snow-covered wilderness was another world. Instinctively I built my +fire at night under the stump of a fallen tree, if I could find one; +for the rotten wood would smoulder until morning, and a supply of other +wood was very hard to get. +</P> + +<P> +One evening I remember crossing the river, which had now gone into its +long winter sleep tucked away under a blanket of ice and snow, and +building a fire under a rotten stump on the south side behind a bank +near the shore. I felt that I must be well down the valley. My supply +of wood was miserably small, but I had worked hard all day and could +not gather any more. I fell down by the fire and struggled against +sleep. She told me I must not sleep. When I dozed, her hand on my +shoulder would arouse me. Thus the night passed. +</P> + +<P> +At dawn I realised in a vague sort of way that the clouds had at last +broken away; that the weather was clear and biting cold. Before me was +the river. It had been a raging torrent when I first saw it; now it +lay quiet and still under its heavy winter blanket. At my back the low +bank with its stunted spruce trees hid the ridge of barren, rocky hills +and knolls that lay beyond. +</P> + +<P> +A few embers of the rotten stump were smouldering, sending skyward, +with each fitful gust of the east wind, a fugitive curl of smoke. A +few yards away lay a dead tree, with its branches close to the snow. +If I could break some of those branches off, and get them back to my +smouldering stump, I might fan the embers into a blaze, get some heat +and melt snow in my cup for a hot drink. Not that I craved the drink +or anything else, but it perhaps would give me strength to go just a +little farther. +</P> + +<P> +I pulled my piece of ragged blanket over my shoulders and struggled to +my feet. It was no use. I swayed dizzily about, took a few steps +forward and fell. I crawled slowly back to the smouldering stump and +tried to think. I felt no pain; I was just weary to the last degree. +Should I not now be justified in surrendering to the overpowering +desire to sleep? Perhaps, I argued, it would strengthen me. I could +no longer walk; why not sleep? But still I was told that I must not... +</P> + +<P> +Was Hubbard still waiting and watching for me to come back?—somewhere +in that still wilderness of snow was he waiting and watching and +hoping? Perhaps he was dead, and at rest. Poor Hubbard... +</P> + +<P> +Why did not the men come to look for us—the trappers that George was +to send? Had they come and missed me, and gone away again? Or was +George, brave fellow, lying dead on the trail somewhere below? How +long had I been wandering, anyway... +</P> + +<P> +My sisters in far-away New York, were they hoping and praying to hear +from me? Perhaps they never would. There was a certain grave in a +little cemetery on the banks of the dear old Hudson. It had been +arranged that I should lie beside that grave when I went to sleep +forever. Would they find my bones and take them back?... +</P> + +<P> +How enthusiastic Hubbard had been for this expedition! It was going to +make his reputation, he thought. Well, well, man proposes, God +disposes; it was His will and best for all. +</P> + +<P> +I found myself dozing, and with an effort to recover myself sat up +straight. The sun was making its way above the horizon. I looked at +it and hoped that its warming rays would give me strength to do my +duty—my duty to live as long as I could. Anyway, the storms had +passed! the storms had passed! +</P> + +<P> +I dozed again. It may have been that I was entering upon my final +sleep. But gradually I became hazily conscious of an unusual sound. +Was it a shout? I was aroused. I made a great effort and got on my +feet. I listened. There it was again! It was a shout, I felt sure it +was a shout! With every bit of energy at my command, I sent up an +answering "Hello!" All was silent. I began to fear that again I had +been deceived. Then over the bank above me came four swarthy men on +snow-shoes, with big packs on their backs. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIX. THE KINDNESS OF THE BREEDS +</H3> + +<P> +The unintelligible words that George shouted to me from the knoll after +we parted on Tuesday (October 20th) were an injunction to keep near the +river, as the men he would send to rescue Hubbard and me would look for +us there. As he proceeded down the valley his progress was slow and +tedious, owing to his weakness, the rough country, and the deepening +snow. Towards noon he came upon the newly made track of a porcupine, +followed it a short distance into a clump of trees, where he soon saw +the round quill-covered animal in the snow and shot it. Immediately he +built a fire, and singed off quills and hair. Then, as he related to +me afterwards, he considered, talking aloud to himself, what was best +to do with his prize. +</P> + +<P> +"There's them fellus up there without grub," he said. "Maybe I'd +better turn about and take 'em this porcupine. But if I do, it won't +last long, and then we'll be worse off than ever. This snow's gettin' +deeper all the time, and if it gets so deep I can't walk without +snowshoes, we'll all die for sure. No, I'd better go on with this +porcupine to help me." +</P> + +<P> +So after boiling a piece of the porcupine in his tea kettle and eating +it, he continued down the valley. By his fires be always talked to +himself to keep himself company, and that night he said: +</P> + +<P> +"This 's been a tough day, and I ain't where I ought to be. But I'll +eat a good snack of this porcupine now with some of the flour, and in +the mornin' I'll have another good snack, and that'll make me stronger +and I can travel farther to-morrow. I ought to get most to Grand Lake +to-morrow night." +</P> + +<P> +But so far from getting anywhere near Grand Lake the next day, he did +not complete his twenty-five-mile journey for several days to come. +The snow became so deep he could hardly push through it. He carefully +hoarded the bones of his porcupine, thinking he might have to eat them; +but Providence sent him more food. When the first porcupine was eaten, +he came upon and killed another, and when that was gone, he shot a +third. He also succeeded in shooting several grouse. If it had not +been for this game, he would not have lived to do the hard work that +was before him. +</P> + +<P> +The pieces of blanket in which his feet were wrapped were continually +coming off, and frequent halts were necessary to readjust them. He +must not let his feet freeze; for then he would not be able to walk, +and not only would he perish himself, but "there'd be no hope for them +fellus up there." One day he came upon a man's track. He was +exultant. That it was a trapper's trail he had no doubt. Staggering +along it with all the speed he could command, he shouted wildly at +every step. Presently he discovered that he was following his own +trail; he had been travelling in a circle. The discovery made him +almost frantic. He stopped to reason with and calm himself. Said he, +so that all the listening wilderness might hear: +</P> + +<P> +"Them fellus up there in the snow have got to be saved. I said to +Hubbard, 'With God's help I'll save you,' and I'm a-goin' to if my legs +hold out and there's anybody at Grand Lake." And then he went on. +</P> + +<P> +His progress down the valley that day was only a mile and a half. It +was most discouraging. He must do better. The powdered milk we had +abandoned he did not find, but on October 26th he recovered our old +lard pail. Some of the lard he ate, some he used in cooking a grouse, +and the rest he took along with him. +</P> + +<P> +Below the place where he bivouacked that night the snow was not so +deep, and early the next morning George once more beheld the broad +waters of Grand Lake. The journey he had expected to make in three +days had actually taken him seven. He arrived at Grand Lake three days +after I, wandering in the valley above, lost all track of time. +</P> + +<P> +A few miles above its mouth the Susan River bends to the southward, and +from that direction reaches the little lake that lies just north of the +extreme western end of Grand Lake, so that George, proceeding down the +river on the south bank, eventually came to the little lake's western +shore. Along this shore he made his way until he reached the point of +land formed by the little lake and the branch of the Beaver River that +flows a little south of east to merge its waters in the little lake +with those of the Susan. The water here had not been frozen, and +George found his further progress arrested. He was in a quandary. The +trapper's tilt for which he was bound was on the south shore of Grand +Lake about seven or eight miles from its western end, and in order to +reach the tilt he would have to continue on south around the end of the +lake. +</P> + +<P> +The land on the other side of the swirling stream to which George had +come was the island at the mouth of the Beaver that separates it into +two branches, and which forms the western shore of the swift stream or +strait that, flowing to the southward, discharges the waters of the +little lake into Grand Lake. George thought, however, that this island +was a part of the western boundary of Grand Lake, and he determined to +reach it. But how? To swim across was impossible. Well, then, he +would build a raft. And, although he had no implements, he did. He +hauled together several fallen trees, laid them in a row and bound them +at one end with his pack strap and at the other with a piece of our old +trolling line. When this was done, he hacked himself a pole with his +sheath-knife, threw his bag containing a piece of a porcupine and some +grouse on the raft, launched it, jumped on it himself and pushed out +into the stream. +</P> + +<P> +One or two good shoves George gave with his pole, and then found he no +longer could touch bottom. He was at the mercy of the swift current. +Down into the little lake he was swept, and thence through the strait +right out into Grand Lake. A high sea was running, and the frail raft +promptly began to fall to pieces. "Have I escaped starvin' only to +drown?" thought George. It certainly looked like it. "But," said he +to himself, "if I drown them fellus up there will be up against it for +sure." So he determined not to drown. He got down on his hands and +knees, and, although the icy seas broke relentlessly over him, he held +the floating sticks in place, at the same time clinging tenaciously to +his food bag; for, as he confided to me later, "it would have been just +as bad to escape drownin' only to starve as it would have been to +escape starvin' only to drown." +</P> + +<P> +Farther out on the broad bosom of the lake George was carried. "Now," +said he, "if I jump, I'll drown; and if I don't, I'll drown anyway. So +I guess I'll hang on a little longer." And hang on he did for +something like two hours, when the wind caught his raft and drove it +back to the southern end of the island at the mouth of the Beaver. +"You can't lose me," said George, as he landed. He and his game bag +were saved, but his difficulties were not ended by any means. +</P> + +<P> +While the wind was driving him back, George caught sight of the branch +of the Beaver that flows almost due south directly into Grand Lake, +forming the island's western shore. Standing on this shore, he made a +shrewd guess. "I'll bet," he said, "my dream was right, and here we +have the same river we were on when we said good-bye to the canoe." +What interested him the most, however, was a row boat he espied a +little south of the island on the opposite shore. Apparently it had +been abandoned. "If can reach that boat," said George, "and it'll +float and I don't find Blake or any grab at his tilt, I'll put right +off for the post, and send help from there to them fellus up there." +</P> + +<P> +There was no doubt about it, he would have to take chances with another +raft. Although his rags were beginning to freeze to his body, he did +not stop to build a fire, neither did he wait to eat anything. At +first it seemed hopeless to try to launch a raft; for the bank on the +western side of the island was very steep. Farther north, however, ice +had formed in the river for some distance from the shore, and to this +ice George dragged fallen trees and bound them as he had done before. +It was the labour of hours, the trees having to be dragged for +considerable distances. Once more afloat, George found no difficulty in +touching bottom with his pole, and in the gathering dusk he reached the +other shore. +</P> + +<P> +Supposing that he was still many miles from a place where there was any +possibility of finding a human being, he decided to bivouac for the +night; but first he must examine the rowboat he had sighted from the +island. This made necessary the fording of a small stream. Hardly had +he emerged from the water, when, from among the spruce trees farther +back from the shore, there came a sound that brought him to a sudden +standstill and set his heart to thumping wildly against his ribs. It +was a most extraordinary sound to hear when one supposed one was alone +in a wilderness, and when all had been solemnly still save for the +dashing of waves upon a shore. On the night air there came floating to +George the cry of a little child. +</P> + +<P> +"When I heard that youngster scream," said George, in telling me about +the incident, "I knew folks was there, and I dropped my bag, and I tore +my piece of blanket from my shoulders, and I runned and I runned." +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the summer Donald Blake had built himself a log house +on the spot to which George was so wildly fleeing. The rowboat George +had spied belonged to him, but the house, standing back in a thick +clump of trees, had not been visible from the water. On the evening of +George's arrival, Donald and his brother Gilbert were away, and +Donald's wife and another young woman who stayed with her to keep her +company were alone. The latter young woman, with Mrs. Blake's baby in +her arms, was standing at the door of the house, when suddenly she +heard a crashing noise in the bush in front of her, and the next moment +there loomed up before her affrighted vision in the gloaming the +apparition of a gaunt and ragged man, dripping wet, and running towards +her with long, black hair and straggling beard streaming in the wind. +She turned and fled into the house. +</P> + +<P> +"O Mrs. Blake! O Mrs. Blake!" she cried, "'tis somethin' dreadful +comin'! 'tis sure a wild man!" +</P> + +<P> +Greatly alarmed, Mrs. Blake went to the door. George, panting and +still dripping, stood before her. +</P> + +<P> +"Lord ha' mercy!" she piously exclaimed, throwing up her arms. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be scared, ladies," panted George; "I couldn't hurt a rabbit. +Ain't there any men here?" +</P> + +<P> +His ingratiating manner reassured the frightened women, and +explanations followed. All the natives of the vicinity of Hamilton +Inlet had been wondering what had become of us, and Mrs. Blake quickly +grasped the situation. Kindness itself, she took George in. Donald +and Gilbert, she said, would be back directly. She made him hot tea, +and put on the table for him some grouse stew, molasses, and bread and +butter, all the time imploring him to sit down and warm himself. But +George was too excited to sit down. Up and down he paced, the melting +ice on his rags making tiny rivulets on his hostess's spotless floor. +Most of the breeds who live near the western end of Hamilton Inlet are +remarkably cleanly, this probably being due to their Scotch blood. +</P> + +<P> +George at length calmed himself sufficiently to turn his attention to +the meal that had been prepared for him. He had salt for his meat, +molasses to sweeten his tea and a bountiful supply of good bread. He +ate greedily, which fact he soon had cause to regret; for later in the +evening he began to bloat, and for several days thereafter he writhed +with the colic. But for the present he thought of nothing save the +satisfaction of the appetite that had been regenerated by the food he +had been able to obtain after leaving me. It was especially difficult +for him to tear himself away from the bread. As there must be an end +to all things, however, George eventually stopped eating, and then he +started to go for his bag. But Mrs. Blake said: +</P> + +<P> +"No, Donald'll get he. Sit down, sir, and rest." +</P> + +<P> +A little later Donald and Gilbert appeared. We had made Donald's +acquaintance, it will be remembered, at Rigolet; it was he who had +sailed his boat up the Nascaupee and had given us the most information +about that river. When he had heard George's story, there was no need +to urge him to make haste. Lithe, ambitious, and in the habit of doing +a dozen things at a time, Donald was activity itself. His brother +Gilbert, a young fellow of seventeen, commonly called Bert, was also +eager to start to the rescue of Hubbard and me. They told George it +was fortunate he had arrived when he did, as in a day or so they would +have been away on their trapping paths. +</P> + +<P> +"But didn't you see Allen Goudie's tilt, sir?" asked Donald, when +George had finished telling about his trip down what he supposed to be +the Nascaupee River. "She's on th' Nascaupee right handy to th' bank, +and in fair sight from th' river, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"If there's a tilt on the Nascaupee," said George, "you can kick me." +</P> + +<P> +Donald asked him to tell more about the river we were on, and George +drew a rough map of its leading features. Then it was that George +learned that the river of our distress was really the Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"And we passed right by the mouth of the Nascaupee?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +He was informed that such was the case. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said George, "I'll be blamed!" "Blamed" was George's most +violent expletive; I never heard him use profanity. +</P> + +<P> +Donald told George he must not think of going back with the rescuing +party, as his weakness would retard its progress. So George marked on +the map he had made of the Susan's course the general situation of our +last camp. He warned Donald that the deep snow up the valley might +have prevented me from reaching the tent, but that in any event they +would find me near the river. +</P> + +<P> +Hearing that, Donald quickly decided that more men were needed for the +rescuing party; for if either Hubbard or I was found alone the party +would have to separate in order to continue the search for the other +man. The packs, besides, would be too heavy for two men to carry and +make the rapid progress that was necessary. Fortunately Allen Goudie +and a young fellow named Duncan McLean were at the former's winter tilt +on the Nascaupee, seven miles across the lake from Donald's. The hour +was late and the lake was rough, but Donald and Gilbert started for +them in their rowboat immediately after making ready their packs of +provisions and camp equipment, prepared for an early start up the Susan +the next day. +</P> + +<P> +At noon (October 28th) they were back with both Allen and Duncan, and +at once loaded the packs into the boat. Then the four men rowed up +through the little lake to the first rapid on the Susan, hauled the +boat up on the shore, donned their snowshoes, shouldered their packs, +and started up the valley. Running when they could, which the rough +country would not permit of their doing often, they camped at night ten +miles above their boat. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning (October 29th) they cached some provisions to lighten +their packs, and as they proceeded fired a rifle at intervals, thinking +there was now a chance of coming upon either Hubbard or me. As a +matter of fact they must have passed me towards evening. They were on +the north side of the river, and it was the evening when I staggered +down the north shore, to cross the ice at dusk and make my last bivouac +in the lee of a bank on the south shore. Whether I had crossed the +river before they came along, or whether, hidden by the trees and the +falling snow, I passed them unobserved on the same shore, I do not +know; the fact is, they camped that night about a mile and a half above +me, and about twelve miles below Hubbard's tent. +</P> + +<P> +There was only one thing that saved me from being left alone to +die—these trappers' keen sense of smell. In the morning (October +30th) while they were breaking camp preparatory to continuing on up the +valley, Donald Blake fancied that he smelled smoke. He spoke to Allen +Goudie about it, and both men stood and sniffed the air. Yes, Allen +smelled smoke, too. It was unmistakable. The wind was blowing up the +valley; therefore someone must have a fire below them. Hastily +finishing the work of breaking camp, the four men shouldered their +packs and turned back. +</P> + +<P> +Close down to the shore of the river they scrambled, and hurried on, +shouting and discharging a rifle. At length they paused, to give +exclamations of satisfaction. They had found my track leading across +the ice to the other shore. Only a moment they paused, and then, +following the trail, they broke into a run, redoubling their shouts and +repeatedly discharging the rifle. They had smelled my smouldering +rotten stump, but if a whiff of smoke was now rising it was too small +for them to see. My trail, however, led them to the bank over which +they heard my feeble answering shout. So down the bank they scrambled, +to come to a sudden halt, transfixed with amazement, as they told me +afterwards, that such a wreck as I could stand and live. +</P> + +<P> +The spectacle I presented certainly must have been an unusual one—a +man all skin and bones, standing in drawers and stocking feet, with the +remnants of a pair of trousers about his hips, there in the midst of +the snow-covered forest. They were heavily clad and had their caps +pulled far down over their ears to protect them from the biting wind, +while I did not even have my hat on. +</P> + +<P> +It was some time before I could realise that living men were before me. +As if in a half-dream, I stood stupidly gazing at them. But with the +return of sensibility I recollected that George had gone to find Donald +Blake, and gradually it dawned upon me that he was there. I spoke his +name "Donald Blake." At that Donald stepped forward and grasped my +hand warmly and firmly like an old friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Did George get out and send you?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir; it was he that sent us, sir. He's safe at my house." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you found Hubbard?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not yet, sir. We smelled smoke a mile and a half above, where our +camp was last night, an' came down to find you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +I remember telling Donald that he had better leave me something to eat, +and go on to Hubbard as fast as he could. He replied that Duncan and +Bert, the two young fellows, would stay with me, while he and Allen +would continue on up the valley. During this talk, the kind-hearted +trappers had not been idle. While two of them cut wood for a rousing +fire and put the kettle on for tea, the others made a cosey couch close +to the blaze and sat me on it. They gave me a very small piece of bread +and butter. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better eat just a small bit at first, sir," said Allen. "You're +fair starved, and much grub at th' beginnin' might be th' worse for +you." +</P> + +<P> +Before I had my tea, Donald and Allen were ready to start. Allen +hesitated for a moment; then asked: +</P> + +<P> +"If the other man be dead, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dead?" I said. "Oh, no, he won't be dead. You'll find him in the +tent waiting for you." +</P> + +<P> +"But if he be dead?" persisted Allen. "He may be, and we sure can't +bring th' body out now, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Although still struggling against the fear that my reason told me was +only too well founded, I requested, that in the event of what they +thought possible proving to be the case, they wrap the body in the +blankets they would find in the tent, and build for it a stage high +enough from the ground to protect it from animals. I also asked that +they bring back with them all the things they should find in the tent, +including the rifle and camera, and especially the books and papers of +all descriptions. +</P> + +<P> +Promising that all should be done as I wished, and again cautioning me +against eating too much, Allen and Donald departed, leaving me a prey +to anxiety and fear as to the news they should bring back. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XX. HOW HUBBARD WENT TO SLEEP +</H3> + +<P> +A pot of hot tea soon was ready, and I drank some of it. +</P> + +<P> +"I hopes you feels better, sir," then spoke young Duncan MacLean. "A +smoke'll taste good now. Got a pipe, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +I produced my pipe, and he held out to me a plug of tobacco. +</P> + +<P> +"Take he an' fill th' pipe, sir." +</P> + +<P> +With the plug in my possession, I drew my sheath-knife to cut it. But +Gilbert Blake objected. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a big un, sir, to cut tobacca with. Let me fill he, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Obediently I handed him my pipe to be filled, and when it had been +returned to me one of the boys struck a match and held it to the bowl +while I puffed. Then Duncan took the plug from the log where Gilbert +had left it, and, holding it out to me, said: +</P> + +<P> +"He's yours, sir; I brought he for you. An'," added Duncan +impressively, "there's more when he's gone, sir." +</P> + +<P> +The tea and the great leaping blaze warmed me, the tobacco stimulated +me, and my tongue was loosed. I talked and I talked. It was good to +have human society and human sympathy again. The boys told me how +George had finally reached them after his struggles, and what news of +the world they had heard. After a little they gave me a bit more +bread, and told me I had better sleep while they built a break to keep +the wind, which had shifted to the west, from my couch. And, while +watching them fell trees for the wind-break and vaguely wondering +whether I should ever be strong and able to move about like that again, +I did go to sleep. +</P> + +<P> +When, after an hour had passed, I awoke, the boys made me drink more +tea and eat another piece of bread. Then Duncan took his rifle, and +remarking, "The 's deer signs right handy, an' a bit o' deer's meat +might do you good, sir," strode off into the bush. Late in the +afternoon he returned without having been rewarded in his hunt, and +took a seat with Gilbert near my feet as I reclined on the boughs. +Twilight came and then darkness, and I, lying before the crackling +flames, wondered, as they burned ever brighter, whether Donald and +Allen had yet found Hubbard, and hoped against hope that they had found +him alive. Instinctively I felt that I should prepare for the worst, +but I cudgelled my brain for specious arguments to make myself believe +he had survived, and went on hoping. +</P> + +<P> +My feet had been paining me all day. I tried to take off my socks, but +blood clots held them fast to the raw flesh. The fact was, they had +been frozen. It was hardly to be wondered at—the wonder was, how I, +wandering for ten days in a bitter snowstorm almost naked as to my +lower extremities, escaped with my life. Under ordinary circumstances, +a physician has told me, the exposure would have killed me in short +order; but, having been living in the open for months, I had become +gradually inured to the cold, and the effect of the exposure was thus +greatly mitigated. There were only two or three nights on the entire +trip when any of us went to bed with dry feet, and that none of us ever +had the slightest symptom of a cold certainly speaks volumes for an +out-of-door life. +</P> + +<P> +Although I ate very sparingly on the day the trappers found me, I soon +began to suffer greatly from bloating and nausea. In the night I was +very ill. The boys did everything they could for me. They were +excellent nurses, those rough, brown fellows of the forest, +anticipating my every wish. When once or twice in the night I tried to +walk a few steps from the fire to relieve my nausea, their faces and +actions showed plainly their concern. That I might not stagger into the +fire, they would rise to stand between it and me. One of them remained +awake all night, to keep the fire going and to help me should I need +anything. +</P> + +<P> +The sun was again showing itself above the horizon, setting the expanse +of fir trees and snow aglow, and the boys, having placed the kettle +over the fire for breakfast, were cutting more wood, when Donald and +Allen suddenly came over the bank, as they had done on the morning +before. Their packs were as large as ever, and they had Hubbard's +rifle. I knew at once that the worst had happened. "His wife and +mother!"—like lightning the thought flashed through my mind. A +dizziness came over me, and for a moment I could not breathe. Donald +spoke: +</P> + +<P> +"Yesterday evenin' we found th' tent, sir. He were fastened up tight +with pins on th' inside, an' hadn't been opened since th' snow began. +Says I to Allen, sir, 'Th' poor man's dead, 'tis sure he's dead.' An' +Allen he opened th' tent; for I had no heart to do it, sir, and there +th' poor man was, wrapped all up in th' blankets as if sleepin', sir. +But he were dead, sir, dead; and he were dead for a long time. So +there was nothin' to do but to wrap th' poor man safe in th' things +that were there, an' bring back th' papers an' other things, sir." +</P> + +<P> +We kept silent, we five men, until Donald added: +</P> + +<P> +"We saw a place when right handy to th' tent where you'd had a fire by +a brook, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I said; "I built that fire—so that really was the brook near +our tent!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Twere th' mercy of God, sir," said Allen, "that you didn't know th' +poor man were there dead; you would ha' given up yourself, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Having a superstitious horror of the dead, Donald would not touch the +body, and without assistance Allen had been unable to place it on a +stage as I wished. However, he arranged it carefully on the ground, +where, he assured me, it would be perfectly safe. He suggested that I +permit them to bury the body where it was, as it would be quite +impossible to transport it over the rough country for weeks to come, or +until Grand Lake had frozen solid and the ice on the Susan River rapids +become hard enough to bear the weight of men with a sled. Both Donald +and Allen were willing to go back to the log-house on Grand Lake, and +get the tools necessary for digging the grave. +</P> + +<P> +But it would be bad enough for me to return home without Hubbard alive, +and I felt that I simply must get the body out and take it with me. +And, although the trappers could not understand my reasons, I refused +to consent to its burial in the wilderness. In spite of their superior +knowledge of the country and the weather conditions, I felt that the +body could be taken down to the post later, but recognised the +impracticability, if not impossibility, of undertaking the task +immediately. +</P> + +<P> +When Donald and Allen turned over to me the papers they had found in +the tent, I took up Hubbard's diary wondering if he had left a last +message. In the back part of the book was a letter to his mother, a +note to his wife, the evident attempt again to write to his wife, and +the letter to the agent at Missanabie written on George's behalf. From +these I turned hastily to the diary proper. Yes, there was an entry +written on the day George and I had left him, and this is what I read: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Sunday, October 18th, 1903. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Alone in camp, junction Nascaupee and some other stream—estimated +(overestimated, I hope) distance above head of Grand Lake 33 miles. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"For two days past we have travelled down our old trail with light +packs. We left a bit of flour—wet—about 11 miles below here—12 +miles (approx.) below that about a pound of milk powder—4 miles below +that about 4 pounds of lard. We counted on all these to help us out in +our effort to reach the head of Grand Lake where we hoped to find +Skipper Tom Blake's trapping camp and cache. On Thursday, as stated, I +busted. Friday and Saturday it was the same. I saw it was probably +hopeless for me to try to go farther with the boys, so we counselled +last night and decided they should take merely half a blanket each, +socks, etc., some tea, tea pail, cups and the pistols, and go on. They +will try to reach the flour to-morrow. Then Wallace will try to bring +a little and come back to me. George will go on to the milk and lard +and to Skipper Blake's, if he can, and send or lead help to us. I want +to say here that they are two of the very best, bravest and grandest +men I ever knew, and if I die it will not be because they did not put +forth their best efforts. Our past two days have been trying ones. I +have not written my diary because so very weak. Day before yesterday +we caught sight of a caribou, but it was on our lee, and winding us got +away before a shot could be fired. Yesterday at our old camp we found +the end we had cut from a flour bag. It had a bit of flour sticking to +it. We boiled it with our old caribou bones, and it strengthened the +broth a little. We also found a can of mustard we had thrown away. +Mina gave it to me as we were coming away, saying she had no use for it +and it might be good for plasters here. I sat and held it in my hand a +long time thinking how it came from Congers and our home, and what a +happy home it was, and what a dear, dear girl presided. Then I took a +bite of it and it was very good. We mixed some in our bone soup and it +seemed to stimulate us. We had a bit of caribou skin in that same pot. +It swelled up thick and was very good. Last night I fell asleep while +the boys were reading to me. This morning I was very, very sleepy. +After the boys left—they left me tea, the caribou bones and another +end of a flour sack found here, a rawhide caribou moccasin and some +yeast cakes—I drank a cup of strong tea and some bone broth. I also +ate some of the really delicious rawhide (boiled with bones) and it +made me stronger—strong to write this. The boys have only tea and 1-2 +pound of pea meal. Our parting was most affecting. I did not feel so +bad. George said: 'The Lord help us, Hubbard. With His help I'll save +you if I can get out.' Then he cried. So did Wallace. Wallace +stooped and kissed my cheek with his poor, sunken bearded lips—several +times—and I kissed his. George did the same, and I kissed his cheek. +Then they went away. God bless and help them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am not so greatly in doubt as to the outcome. I believe they will +reach the flour and be strengthened, that Wallace will reach me, that +George will find Blake's cache and camp and send help. So I believe we +will all get out. My tent is pitched in open-tent style in front of a +big rock. The rock reflects the fire, but now it is going out because +of the rain. I think I shall let it go and close the tent till rain is +over, thus keeping out wind and saving wood. To-night or to-morrow +perhaps the weather will improve, so I can build fire, eat the rest of +my moccasins and have some more bone broth. Then I can boil my belt +and oil-tanned moccasins and a pair of cowhide mittens. They ought to +help some. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am not suffering. The acute pangs of hunger have given way to +indifference. I'm sleepy. I think death from starvation is not so +bad. But let no one suppose I expect it. I am prepared—that is all. +I think the boys will be able, with the Lord's help, to save me." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +Bravo, Hubbard! nothing could down your spirit for long, could there? +So high was your spirit that you could not know it was impossible for +your poor old body to hold it any longer. Your hand was firm when you +wrote, b'y, speaking eloquently of that which most of all was you. "It +is a man's game," you said one day, in referring to our desperate +struggle to reach those we loved. Well, you played it to the limit, +b'y, and it was a man's death. My friend, I am proud of you. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +Putting down the coverless book in which Hubbard's brave last words had +been written, I sat and thought. The tea, the bones and the other +things we had left with him had been found in the tent with the body. +The tent was closed as he said he was going to close it, and the snow, +which began to fall that Sunday night, had not been disturbed. He had +been found well wrapped in the blankets, as if sleeping. Yes, it was +quite evident that after making that last entry in his diary on the day +we left him, he had lain down, and there all alone amid the solitudes +of desolate Labrador, there in the wild that had called to him with a +voice to which he must needs harken, had gone to sleep, and sleeping +had not awakened. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXI. FROM OUT THE WILD +</H3> + +<P> +Donald and Allen returned at once to the log house on Grand Lake, +leaving with the boys and me their tent and tent-stove. Donald also +gave me a pair of high sealskin boots with large, soft moccasin +bottoms. It was their expectation that we should remain in camp until +they got back with other things to aid my journey out; but, although I +was still very ill, and the heated tent was comfortable, I found +waiting irksome, and at daylight the next morning (Sunday, November +1st) the boys and I pulled up stakes. To protect my hands during the +journey I made a pair of mittens from a piece of blanket duffel that +had been brought back from the tent where Hubbard was. +</P> + +<P> +A pretty good path had been trodden in the snow by the trips of my +rescuers up and down the valley, and following along it, with Duncan +and Gilbert on their snowshoes ahead of me packing it down still +further, I did not sink very deeply; nevertheless, such was the +condition of my feet that every step I took was painful. As the boys +carried all that was to be carried, I managed, however, to walk about +ten miles during the day. We camped at a place where the four trappers +on their journey in had cached a fat porcupine. For supper I ate a bit +of the meat and drank some of the broth, and found it very nourishing. +</P> + +<P> +On the following day we met Donald and Allen as they were returning to +aid us. Allen brought with him a pair of trousers to cover my +half-naked legs. At sunset we reached the rowboat, which had been left +near the mouth of the Susan, and as we approached Donald's log-house +something more than an hour later a rifle was fired as a signal that we +were coming. When we landed, George was there on the starlit shore to +welcome us. I hardly knew him. His hair had been cut, he had shaved +off his ragged beard, and he was dressed in clean clothing that Donald +had lent him. He, of course, had heard of Hubbard's death from Donald +and Allen, and when he clasped my hand in a firm grip to help me from +the boat, he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Wallace, Hubbard's gone." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I said, "Hubbard's gone." +</P> + +<P> +He was good enough to say he was glad I had escaped, and then in +silence we followed the trail up to the house the first human +habitation I had seen for months. There was only one room in the +house, and there all of us, men and women alike, slept as well as ate; +but it was scrupulously clean—the floor, table, chests and benches had +been scoured until they shone and to me it seemed luxurious. The +family did everything for me that was within their power. Donald gave +me fresh underclothes, and his wife made me drink some tea and eat some +rice and grouse soup before I lay down on the bed of skins and blankets +they had prepared for me on the floor by the stove. +</P> + +<P> +My two-days' walk had completely exhausted me, and I had a severe +attack of colic and nausea. George then told me of his sufferings. +Mrs. Blake, it appeared, had baked a batch of appetising buns, and +George, not profiting by his experience after his indiscretion on the +night of his arrival, had partaken thereof with great liberality, the +result being such as to induce the reflection, "Have I escaped drownin' +and starvin' only to die of over-feedin'?" +</P> + +<P> +The women of the household slept in bunks fastened to the wall, and +while they prepared themselves for their night's rest the lamps were +turned low and we men discreetly turned our backs. Just before this +incident we had family worship, which consisted of readings from the +Bible and the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, in accordance with the +usual custom of the household. Donald, our host, professed not to be a +religious man, but never a day passed that he did not offer thanks to +his Maker, he regularly subscribed one-tenth of his income to the +support of the Methodist Mission, he would not kill a deer or any other +animal on Sunday if it came right up to his door, his whole life and +his thoughts were decent and clean, and he was ever ready to abandon +his work and go to the rescue of those who needed help. It may be +thought strange that he should observe the forms of the Anglican Church +in his family worship and subscribe to the Methodist Mission. The +explanation is, that denominations cut absolutely no figure in +Labrador; to those simple-hearted people, whose blood, for the most +part, is such a queer mixture of Scotch, Eskimo, and Indian, there is +only one church—the Church of Jesus Christ,—and whenever a Christian +missionary comes along they will flock from miles with the same +readiness to hear him whatever division of the Church may claim his +allegiance. +</P> + +<P> +So accustomed had I become to living in the open that I soon found the +atmosphere of the closed room unendurable, and several times during the +night I had to go out to breathe. I was down on the shore of Grand +Lake for a breath of the crisp winter air when the sun rose. It was +glorious. Not a cloud was there in all the deep blue vault of the +heavens, and, as the sunbeams peeked over Cape Corbeau, the lake was +set a-shimmering and the snow on the surrounding hills radiated tiny +shafts of fire. It was to me as if the sun were rising on a new world +and a new life. Our hardships and their culminating tragedy seemed to +belong to a dim and distant past. What a beautiful world it was after +all! and how I thanked God that I lived! +</P> + +<P> +Allen Goudie had offered George and me the use of his sailboat in +returning to Northwest River Post, and it was agreed that he and Duncan +should row us over to his tilt on the Nascaupee. So after breakfast +George and I said good-bye to Donald and the rest of his household, and +three hours later were welcomed by Allen's wife. Again we received +every attention that kindly hearts could suggest. We remained at +Allen's two days while he and Duncan made a pair of oars and fitted up +the sailboat for our trip to the post. With the soap and warm water +and bandages provided by Mrs. Goudie I was able to dress my feet. One +foot especially had been affected, and from it I cut with a jack knife +much gangrenescent flesh. +</P> + +<P> +It was on Thursday morning, November 5th, that George and I, warmly +dressed in Donald's and Allen's clothes, set sail in a snowstorm for +the post through the thin ice that was forming in the river. Upon +reaching Grand Lake we found the wind adverse and the snow so thick we +could not see our course, but after we had hovered about a fire on the +shore until well into the afternoon, the wind shifted to the west and +the storm abated, enabling us to proceed a little farther on our +journey, or until signs of approaching night compelled us to take +refuge in a trapper's tilt near Cape Blanc on the southern shore. This +was the tilt that George, in his struggle out, had supposed he would +have to reach to get help. It was about six by seven feet, and as it +contained a tent-stove we were able to make ourselves comfortable for +the night after our supper of tea and bread and butter and molasses +thoughtfully provided by Mrs. Goudie. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning was clear and beautiful, and although there was +scarcely wind enough to fill the single sail of our little craft, we +made an early start. Towards noon the wind freshened and soon was +blowing furiously. The seas ran high, but George and I had become so +used to rough weather and had faced danger so often that we ran right +on in front of the gale, I at the tiller, and he handling the sail rope +and bailing the water out when occasionally we shipped a sea. The rate +at which we travelled quickly brought us to the rapid at the eastern +end of the lake, and through this we shot down into the Little Lake, +and thence through the strait known as the Northwest River out into +Groswater Bay. It was about 3.30 o'clock in the afternoon when, +turning sharply in below the post wharf, we surprised Mackenzie, the +agent, and Mark Blake, the company's servant, in the act of sawing wood +close down by the shore. +</P> + +<P> +That they were astonished by the sudden appearance of the boat with its +strange-looking occupants, was evident. They dropped their crosscut +saw, and stood staring. In a moment, however, Mackenzie recognised +George, who, having had a hair cut and a shave, looked something like +his old self, and came to the conclusion that the other occupant of the +boat must be I. He came quickly forward, and, grasping my hand as I +stepped from the boat, asked abruptly: +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Hubbard?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dead," I said. "Dead of starvation eighty miles from here." +</P> + +<P> +Mark Blake, a breed but not related to Donald, took charge of George, +and as Mackenzie and I walked to the post house, I gave him a brief +account of Hubbard's death and my rescue. He had been warmly attracted +to Hubbard, and his big heart was touched. I saw him hastily brush +away a tear. Taking me into the kitchen, he instructed his little +housekeeper, Lillie Blake, Mark's niece, to give me a cup of cocoa and +some soda biscuit and butter, while he made a fire in the dining-room +stove. Lillie cried all the time she was preparing my lunch. +</P> + +<P> +"I feels so sorry for you, sir," she said. "An' 'tis dreadful th' poor +man's starvin', an' he were such a pretty man. In th' summer I says, +before you went t' th' bush, sir, he's sure a pretty man. 'Tis +wonderful sad, 'tis wonderful sad t' have he die so." +</P> + +<P> +Oh, that pleasant kitchen, with the floor and all the woodwork scrubbed +white and the rows of shining utensils on the shelves! And the comfort +of the great wood-burning stove roaring out a tune to us on that frosty +winter evening! As I sat there sipping the deliciously rich cocoa, +Mackenzie joined me, and while Lillie cooked the dinner I must tell him +over and over again my story. And in spite of herself the +tender-hearted little housekeeper would cry and cry. +</P> + +<P> +The dinner, which consisted of grouse, potatoes, marmalade, bread, and +tea, was served in the dining room, which was also the living room. +Mackenzie sat at the head of the table, I at the foot, and on a lounge +to one side sat Atikamish, a small Mountaineer Indian hunting dog, +gravely alert for the bones his master would occasionally toss to him. +Atikamish had very good table manners. He caught the bones neatly and +deftly, and he invariably chewed them up without leaving his seat or +changing his position. My appetite was returning, and I ate well; but +it was fully two weeks before I could eat without experiencing distress +later. When that blessed time arrived, I never could get enough; +Lillie was always pressing me to eat, and for a time I had at least six +meals a day. +</P> + +<P> +After dinner Mackenzie got Mark Blake to cut my hair and shave off my +beard. Then he took me to my room upstairs, where a stove was +crackling out a welcome and a big tub of warm water had been prepared +for me. After my bath, he again came up to rub my legs, which were +much swollen from frostbite, and to dress my foot with salve. In a +suit of Mackenzie's flannel pajamas I then went to my soft bed, and lay +snug and warm under the blankets. It was the first real bed I had lain +in for nearly four months, and oh, the luxury of it! +</P> + +<P> +It is impossible for me to express the gratitude I feel towards those +good friends. They nursed me with the tenderest care. Mackenzie's big +Scotch heart and the woman's sympathetic instinct of the little +housekeeper anticipated my every want, and he and she never could seem +to satisfy themselves with doing things for my comfort. When I left +the post with Hubbard I weighed 170 pounds; a week after my return I +weighed ninety-five. But with the care they took of me my general +health was soon restored, and I rapidly put on flesh. +</P> + +<P> +My difficulties, however, were not yet ended. Hubbard's body was still +to be recovered from the wild and repatriated, and during the long +months that ensued before it could be reached I lived in constant dread +lest it should be destroyed by animals, until at length the dread +amounted almost to an obsession. Moreover, the gangrene in my foot +became worse, and if it had not been for the opportune arrival in that +dreary land of an unfortunate young medical student, it in all +likelihood would have killed me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII. A STRANGE FUNERAL PROCESSION +</H3> + +<P> +The young medical student was George Albert Hardy, of Prince Edward +Island. Everybody called him "Doctor," and for all practical purposes +he was a regular physician and surgeon; for if he had been able to do +two or three months' more hospital work he would have received his +degree. The reason he had hastily abandoned his studies and sought +professional service with the lumber company that maintains camps at +the western end of the Hamilton Inlet was that he had fallen a victim +to consumption. He arrived at Northwest River Post on November 8th on +a small schooner that brought supplies from Rigolet for Mackenzie and +the Muddy Lake lumber camp at the mouth of the Grand River. +</P> + +<P> +The schooner remained only an hour at Northwest River, and Dr. Hardy +had to continue on to Muddy Lake with her, but he found time to operate +on my left foot, which was badly affected, and advise me how to +continue its treatment myself. The doctor said that the mail boat, the +Virginia Lake, which had carried him to Rigolet, would return there +within three weeks for her last trip to Newfoundland of the season, and +he urged me to take advantage of that opportunity to go home, and get +proper treatment for my feet. The temptation was great, but I felt it +was my duty not to leave Labrador without Hubbard's body. +</P> + +<P> +It was my plan to engage dog teams and start with the body for the +coast so soon as it could be brought to the post. Everybody agreed +that it could not be recovered before January, and Mackenzie argued +strongly against the practicability of transporting it with dogs, +suggesting that we place it in the old post mission chapel until +navigation opened in the spring, when it could be sent home on the mail +steamer. But I knew I must get home as soon as possible, and my mind +was made up to take the body with me, if I had to haul it all the way +to Quebec. +</P> + +<P> +The great toe on my left foot growing steadily worse, it became +necessary for me again to see the doctor. Groswater Bay and Goose Bay +by this time were frozen solid, and on December 4th I travelled to +Muddy Lake, where Dr. Hardy was stationed, by dog team and komatik, +Willie Ikey, an Eskimo employed by Monsieur Duclos, the manager of the +French trading post across the Northwest River, acting as my driver. +Upon my arrival I was cordially welcomed by Mr. Sidney Cruikshanks, the +lumber "boss"; Mr. James McLean, the storekeeper, and Dr. Hardy. It +was arranged that I should stop and sleep with the doctor at McLean's +house. The doctor did some more cutting, and under his careful +treatment my foot so improved that it was thought I could with safety +return to the post on December 15th, to prepare letters and telegrams +for the winter mail, which was scheduled to leave there by dog team for +Quebec on the 18th. It was the 20th before the mail got away, and with +it went the first news of Hubbard's death to reach his relatives and +friends. +</P> + +<P> +My dispatches, forwarded from Chateau Bay, the outpost of the Canadian +coast telegraph service, were received in New York on January 22d, the +letters two months later. +</P> + +<P> +Immediately upon my return to Northwest River, my feet began to trouble +me again. Word was sent to Dr. Hardy, who, regarding it as a call of +duty, arrived on December 31st. I very much regret to say, that in +responding to the call, Dr. Hardy received a chill that hastened, if it +did not cause, his death. After examining my feet upon his arrival, he +advised me to return with him to Muddy Lake. So it was arranged that +George, with Mackenzie's dogs and komatik, should drive Dr. Hardy and +me to the Kenemish lumber camp, twelve miles across Groswater Bay, +where there was a patient that required attention, and that from there +Hardy and I should go on to Muddy Lake with other dogs. Alas! the +doctor never saw Muddy Lake again. +</P> + +<P> +Before starting, I learned from Allen Goudie and Duncan MacLean, who +came from the interior to spend New Year's Day, that Grand Lake was +frozen hard and an attempt might be made to bring out Hubbard's body. +Accordingly, I engaged Duncan MacLean and Tom Blake, also a breed, to +undertake the task with George, and to recover, so far as possible, the +photographic films and other articles we had abandoned at Goose Camp +and Lake Elson. Blake was the father of Mackenzie's housekeeper, and +lived at the rapid at the eastern end of Grand Lake. As he had, at the +request of friends, frequently prepared bodies for burial, it was +arranged that he should head the expedition, while George acted as +guide, and the agreement was that, weather permitting, the party should +start inland on January 6th. A coffin, made by the carpenter at +Kenemish was all ready to receive the body when it should arrive at the +post. +</P> + +<P> +George was to have driven Dr. Hardy and me to Kenemish on January 3d, +but as there was a stiff wind blowing and the thermometer registered 40 +degrees below zero, we postponed our departure until the following day. +The morning was clear, and the temperature was 34 below. The dogs, +with a great howling and jumping, had hardly settled down to the slow +trot which with only fair travelling is their habitual gait, when we +observed that the sky was clouding, and in an incredibly short time the +first snowflakes of the gathering storm began to fall. Soon the snow +was so thick that it shut us in as with a curtain, and eventually even +old Aillik, our leader, was lost to view. +</P> + +<P> +"Bear well t' th' east'ard, an' keep free o' th' bad ice; the's sure t' +be bad ice handy t' th' Kenemish," had been Mark Blake's parting +injunction. So George kept well to the eastward as, hour after hour, +we forged our way on through the bending, drifting snow. At length we +came upon land, but what land we did not know. The storm had abated by +this time, and a fresh komatik track was visible, which we proceeded to +follow. On all sides of us ice was piled in heaps as high as a house. +We had been travelling altogether about six hours, and the storm had +ceased, when we came upon a tilt on the shore of a deep bay, and, close +by it, a man making passes with a stick at a large wolf, which, +apparently emboldened by hunger, was jumping and snarling about waiting +for a chance to spring in upon him. +</P> + +<P> +The noise of our approaching komatik caused the wolf to slink off, and +then the man hurried to the tilt, reappeared with a rifle and shot the +beast as it still prowled among the ice hills. He proved to be Uriah +White, a trapper. Not at all excited by his adventure, he welcomed us +to his tilt. In throwing off his mittens to fire his rifle at the +wolf, he had exposed his naked hands to the bitter cold, and they had +been frost-bitten. While thawing out his hands at a safe distance from +the stove, he informed us that he had been "handy 'nuf to he [meaning +the wolf] to see that he were a she." +</P> + +<P> +The condition of my feet had not permitted me to leave the komatik +during our long journey, and I suffered severely from the cold. George +and, alas! Hardy, were also thoroughly chilled, though they had +occasionally exercised themselves by running behind. Uriah prepared +for us some hot tea and hardtack, and gave us our bearings. We were +about four miles east of Kenemish, and an hour later we arrived there. +</P> + +<P> +The lumber camp at the mouth of the Kenemish River is composed of a saw +mill, a storehouse in which also live the native helpers, a cookhouse, +a part of which is given over to lodgings for the Nova Scotian +lumbermen, and a log stable for the horses that do the general work +about the camp and in the woods. Hugh Dunbar, the engineer, extended a +warm welcome to the doctor and me, and his wife, who did the camp +cooking, made us comfortable in the cookhouse. I was destined to +remain at the camp for many weeks, and I cannot help testifying to the +gratitude I feel to those lumber folk, especially Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar, +Wells Bently, the storekeeper; Tom Fig, the machinist, and Archie +McKennan, Leigh Stanton and James Greenan. +</P> + +<P> +The chill he had received during the trip from Northwest River so +affected Dr. Hardy that he was unable to proceed to Muddy Lake. Two +days after our arrival he had a severe hemorrhage, and the following +day another. They forced him to take to his bed, and thereafter he +rose only occasionally for half an hour's rest in a chair. He was a +deeply religious nature, and, realising that he was doomed, he awaited +the slow approach of death with calm resignation. +</P> + +<P> +And my feet steadily grew worse. Three days after our arrival at +Kenemish I could not touch them to the floor. The doctor and I lay on +couches side by side. I could not even bear the weight of the +bed-clothes on my feet, and Dunbar built a rack from the hoops of an +old flour barrel to protect them. Under the doctor's direction, Mrs. +Dunbar every day removed the bandages from my feet, cleansed them with +carbolic acid water and rebandaged them. Dunbar and the other men +carried me in their arms when it was necessary for me to be taken from +my couch. My temperature ran up until it reached 103 1/2. The doctor +then said there was only one way to save my life—to cut off my legs. +</P> + +<P> +"And," he added, "I'm the only one here that knows how to do it, and +I'm too weak to undertake it. So were both going to die, Wallace. +There's nothing to fear in that, though, if you trust in God." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor was an accomplished player of the violin, but he had left +his own instrument at Muddy Lake, and the only one he could obtain at +Kenemish was a miserable affair that gave him little satisfaction. So +while he lay dying by the side of his patient who he thought was also +dying, he, for the most part, gratified his love of music and sought to +comfort us both by softly singing in his sympathetic tenor voice the +grand old hymns of the church. "Lead Kindly Light" and "Nearer My God +to Thee" were his favourites, and every syllable was enunciated clearly +and distinctly. +</P> + +<P> +But he was mistaken in thinking that I, too, was to die. Soon there +was an improvement noticeable in the condition of both of my feet, and +gradually they grew better. +</P> + +<P> +"It's truly a miracle that the Lord is working," said the doctor. "You +were beyond human aid. I've prayed from the bottom of my heart that +you'd get well. I've prayed a dozen times a day, and now the prayer is +answered. It's the only one of my prayers," he added sadly, "that has +been answered since I have been in Labrador." +</P> + +<P> +During January and February the cold was terrific. The spirit +thermometer at the camp was scaled down to 64 degrees below zero, and +on several days the spirit disappeared below the scale mark before 8 +o'clock in the evening. For a week the temperature never, even at +midday, rose above 40 below. The old natives of the bay said there +never had been such a winter before. Not a man in the camp escaped +without a frozen nose and the cheeks and chins of all of them were +black from being nipped by the frost. Bently declared that he froze +his nose in bed, and Mrs. Bently bore witness to the truth of the +statement. But Bently's nose was frosted on an average of once a day. +</P> + +<P> +Nearly all of this time I lay at the lumber camp worrying about +Hubbard's body. One day late in January, when I had been hoping that +the body had been safely brought out, Mackenzie and George arrived from +Northwest River with the news that the storms had been so continuous it +had not been deemed wise to attempt the journey inland. I wished to be +removed at once to the post, thinking that my presence there might +hasten matters, but Dr. Hardy said there would be no use of having two +dead men, and I was forced to be content with promises that the +expedition would get under way as soon as possible. +</P> + +<P> +Early in February the doctor said I might try my feet on the floor. +The result was the discovery that my knees would not bear me, and that +I should have to learn to walk all over again. Recovering the use of my +legs was a tedious job, and it was not until February 29th that I was +able to return to Northwest River. After leaving Kenemish I never saw +the unfortunate young doctor again; for he died on March 22d. +</P> + +<P> +Back at Northwest River, I was able to stir things up a bit, and bright +and early on Tuesday morning, March 8th, George, Tom Blake, and Duncan +MacLean, composing the expedition that was to recover Hubbard's body, +at last left the post, prepared for their difficult journey into the +interior. I regretted much that my physical condition made it +impossible for me to accompany them. Their provisions were packed on an +Indian flat sled or toboggan, and their tent and other camp equipment +on a sled with broad flat runners that I had obtained especially for +the transportation of the body from some Indians that visited the post. +At the rapid they were to get Tom Blake's dogs to haul their loads to +Donald Blake's at the other end of Grand Lake. After that, the hauling +was all to be done by hand, as it is quite impossible to use dogs in +cross-country travelling in Labrador. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the afternoon snow squalls developed, and all day +Wednesday and Thursday the snow fell heavily. I knew the storm would +interfere with the progress of the men, but I hoped they had succeeded +in reaching Donald's, and were at that point holding themselves in +readiness to proceed. What was my disappointment, then, when towards +noon on Sunday Douglas and Henry Blake, Tom's two young sons, came to +the post to announce that their father was at home! He had made a +start up Grand Lake, they said, but the storms had not permitted the +party to advance any farther than the Cape Corbeau tilt. +</P> + +<P> +Douglas had accompanied the men to Cape Corbeau, which point it had +taken an entire day to reach, as the dogs, even with the men on their +snowshoes tramping a path ahead, sank so deeply in the snow that they +could hardly flounder along, to say nothing of hauling a load. It was +evident, therefore, that the dogs would retard rather than accelerate +the progress of the party on Grand Lake, and when the Cape Corbeau tilt +was reached on Tuesday night it was decided that Douglas should take +them back to the rapid. On Wednesday morning the storm was raging so +fiercely that it was considered unsafe to go ahead for the present. +George, moreover, complained of a lame ankle, and said he required a +rest. So Tom came to the conclusion that if he remained at the tilt he +would be eating the "stock of grub" to no purpose, and when Douglas +turned homeward with the dogs he went with him. George and Duncan were +to stay at the tilt until the travelling became better, Douglas said, +and then push on to Donald's and wait for Tom there. +</P> + +<P> +Douglas's story made it plain that the weather conditions on Grand Lake +had been fierce enough to appal any man, but as there had been no snow +since Friday night I could not understand what Tom was doing at the +rapid on Sunday, and with Mackenzie's consent I had Mark immediately +harness the post dogs and drive me up to his house. I arrived there +considerably incensed by his inactivity, but I must say that his +explanation was adequate. He asked me if I had been able to see +anything of Grand Lake, and made me realise what it meant to be out +there with a high west wind of Arctic bitterness drifting the snow in +great clouds down its thirty-seven miles of unbroken expanse. There +was no doubt that the men had done the best they could, and after +instructing Tom that, if more provisions were needed, to obtain them at +Donald's at my expense, and receiving from him an assurance that he +would again start for Hubbard's body as soon as the weather would +permit, I returned, mollified, to the post. +</P> + +<P> +It was on this day (Sunday, March 13th) that I received my first news +from home and the outside world, Monsieur Duclos, who had been on a +trip north, bringing me two telegrams from New York. They conveyed to +me the comforting assurance that all was well at home, being replies to +the dispatches I had sent in December. Received at Chateau Bay, they +had been forwarded to me three hundred and fifty miles by dog teams and +snowshoe travellers. +</P> + +<P> +Tom Blake started on Monday morning, the 14th, and Tuesday at noon +joined George and Duncan at Donald's. On Wednesday the three men began +their march up the Susan. The weather continuing fair, they made good +progress and had no difficulty in finding the site of our last camp. +Hubbard's body, with the tent lying flat on top of it, was under eight +feet of snow. Near the spot a wolverine had been prowling, but the +body was too deeply buried for any animal to scent it, and in its quiet +resting place it lay undisturbed. It was fortunate that it had not been +placed on a stage, as I had suggested; for in that event it would +undoubtedly have been destroyed. +</P> + +<P> +Continuing on inland, the men recovered the photographic films, the +sextant, my fishing rod, and other odds and ends we had dropped on the +trail as far back as Lake Elson. Tom and Duncan praised George +unstintingly for the unvarying accuracy with which he located the +things. With the country and smaller trees buried under a great depth +of snow, and no landmarks to guide him, George would lead the other men +on, and, with no searching about or hesitancy, stop and say, "We'll dig +here." And not once did his remarkable instinct play him false. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tis sure wonderful," said Tom, in telling me about it. "I ne'er +could ha' done it, an' no man on Th' Labrador could ha' done it, sir. +Not even th' Mountaineers could ha' done it." And Duncan seconded +Tom's opinion. +</P> + +<P> +On Sunday, March 27th, I was sitting in the cosey post house wondering +where George and the others were, when suddenly George appeared from +out the snow that the howling gale was whirling about. My long +suspense was ended. The body had been recovered in good condition, +George said. Wrapped in the blankets that Hubbard had round him when +died—the blankets he had so gaily presented me with that June morning +on the Silvia—and our old tarpaulin, which George had recovered +farther back on the trail, it had been dragged on the Indian sled forty +miles down over the sleeping Susan River, and thence out over Grand +Lake to the Cape Corbeau tilt, where the men had been compelled to +leave it the day before owing to the heavy snowstorm that then +prevailed. From the tilt the men had gone on to Tom's house at the +rapid to spend the night, and George had now come down to the post to +relieve my mind with the news that the body was safe. +</P> + +<P> +It was arranged that the next morning George and Duncan should take the +post dogs and komatik, drive up to Cape Corbeau and bring the body +down. The morning was calm and fine, and they started early. It was +a strange funeral procession that returned. The sun was setting when, +on their way back, with the body lashed to the komatik, they passed +over the rapid where Hubbard that beautiful July morning had sprung +vigorously into the water to track the canoe into Grand Lake. How full +of hope and pleasurable anticipation he had been when we paddled +through the Little Lake! Over the snow and ice that now hid the lake +the seven dogs that were hauling his corpse strained and tugged, ever +and anon breaking into a trot as George and Duncan, running on their +snowshoes on either side of the komatik, urged them forward with Eskimo +exclamations or cracked their long whip over a laggard. No need to +urge any one of them on, however, when they came in sight of the post. +Darkness was falling. Knowing that their daily meal was near at hand, +the dogs broke into a run, and with much howling and jumping swung +around the point and up to the buildings. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXIII. OVER THE ICE +</H3> + +<P> +With the body at the post, it was my intention to hire dog teams, and, +accompanied by George, start with it at once for home, travelling up +Hamilton Inlet to the ocean, and then down along the coast to Battle +Harbour, or some port farther south, where we might happen on a ship +that would take us away from the land where we had suffered so much. +More than three weeks elapsed, however, before we could get away from +the Northwest River. It was about 325 miles over the ice to Battle +Harbour, and Mackenzie and the others continued to argue against the +feasibility of my plan. For a time it did seem as if it would be +impossible to carry it out. First of all, I had trouble with Hubbard's +coffin. When we received the body, the plain spruce box that had been +made for it was found not to be deep enough. I sent over a request to +James Greenan, the carpenter at Kenemish, that another one be made as +speedily as possible. He replied that the last board they had on hand +had been used in making a coffin for poor Dr. Hardy, but said that if I +would return to him the coffin we had, he believed he could raise the +sides to the requisite height. Mackenzie immediately despatched Mark +with the dogs and komatik to carry the coffin to Kenemish, and on April +4th it was returned with the necessary alterations. The body meanwhile +had lain wrapped in the blankets and tarpaulin in a storehouse where +the temperature practically was as low as it was out of doors. Now we +placed it in the box with salt as a preservative, and everything was +ready for our long journey. +</P> + +<P> +Then arose the question as to where I could get dogs. Two teams were +needed, one for the body and one for our baggage. Not a dog owner +could I find who would undertake the task. I sent imploring messages +for twenty-five miles around, but all to no purpose. They would not +even undertake the ninety-mile journey to Rigolet. Some, I knew, did +not like the idea of travelling with a corpse, and others, like Tom +Blake, did not have enough dogs to haul our loads. In despair I went +to Monsieur Duclos on April 19th and urged him to lend me his team to +take us as far as Rigolet, telling him that Mackenzie was willing to +let us have his team for the trip to Rigolet, but that another was +needed. The French post dogs had just returned from a long journey, +and Monsieur Duclos said they were not fit for travel, but finally, to +my great joy, he very kindly consented to let me have them, with +Belfleur, a French-Indian, as driver, after they had a couple of days' +rest. +</P> + +<P> +It was Mackenzie's custom to make an annual trip to Rigolet on post +business, and this usually took place in May; but he expedited his +arrangements so as to be able to leave with us and thus save his dogs +an additional journey. Belfleur arrived with his dogs early on the +morning of April 21st. Unfortunately Fred Blake, Mackenzie's driver, +was not on hand, but it was decided that Belfleur should go ahead with +George and the coffin, and that Mackenzie and I should follow with the +baggage the next morning. It was nine o'clock when the eight dogs that +were to haul the two men and the coffin got under way. All the natives +were sorry to see George go, his genial manners and cheerful grin +having made him a prime favourite. Mackenzie's little housekeeper and +Mark Blake's wife, who had been George's hostess, wept copiously. +</P> + +<P> +Mackenzie, Fred Blake, and I got off at six o'clock the next morning. +Our seven big dogs were howling and straining on the long traces as I +said good-bye to all the good friends that had been so kind to me and +had gathered to see me leave. It took us until evening of the +following day to reach Rigolet. The Eskimo dogs almost invariably +leave a house and arrive at one with a great flourish, but between +times they settle down to a gentle pace and have to be urged on with +exclamations and much snapping of the whip. Ours were much better +travellers than those belonging to the French post, and, despite the +fact that they had a heavier load to haul and were one less in number, +we overtook George and Belfleur on the afternoon of the second day. A +part of the time Mackenzie and Fred ran beside the komatik on their +snowshoes to get warm, but my knees were still so weak that I had to +stick to the komatik all the way. We spent the night at the log cabin +of a breed, and before noon the next day came to the cabin of one Bell +Shepard, where we learned George and Belfleur had spent their second +night. +</P> + +<P> +It is considered a gross beach of etiquette on The Labrador to pass a +man's house without stopping for bread and tea, and so we had to turn +in to see Bell. As he served us with refreshment, he gave us a +startling bit of news, to wit: that there was a great war raging in the +outside world, with Great Britain, the United States, and Japan on one +side, and Russia, France, and Germany on the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I's sure 'tis true, sir," he insisted, upon observing that Mackenzie +and I appeared incredulous. "I's just come frum Rigolet, an' Scott, +th' trader, had th' word by th' telegraph to Chateau. So 'tis sure +true, sir, an' 'tis bad word for us poor folk on Th' Labrador, with th' +prices to go up, as they tells me they sure will, on flour an' pork." +</P> + +<P> +We found out later that such a report had really spread up the coast +from dog driver to dog driver until it had reached Rigolet, and it was +not until I got to Battle Harbour that I learned that its basis was the +beginning of the conflict between Russia and Japan. +</P> + +<P> +At Rigolet we were again hospitably received by Fraser, the factor. +The news of Hubbard's death had preceded us; in fact it had been +carried up and down the coast all the way from Cape Charles to Cape +Chidley. Awaiting me was a letter from Dr. Cluny Macpherson, of the +Deep Sea Mission at Battle Harbour, who, I was informed, had recently +been to Rigolet and had hoped to see me. The letter proved to contain +much valuable information as to stopping places and the probabilities +of getting dogs between Rigolet and Battle Harbour, as well as the good +news that a steamer was expected at Battle Harbour early in May. +</P> + +<P> +I also learned from Fraser that Mr. Whitney, editor of Outing magazine, +of which Hubbard had been the associate editor, had sent a message to +the telegraph operator at Chateau Bay requesting him to lend me every +assistance possible and "to spare no expense." Well-meant though the +message was, it had the effect of increasing my difficulties. Duly +exaggerated and embellished, it had spread up the coast until every dog +owner gained the impression that a little gold mine was about to pass +through his country. I found this out when I tried to get dog teams to +carry me to Cartwright Post, the next stage on my journey. A haughty +person named Jerry Flowers, it appeared, had a monopoly just then of +the dog-team business in the vicinity of Rigolet, and when we arrived +at the post he proceeded to deal with me in the high-handed manner +common to trust magnates. The regular rate paid by traders for +transportation over the eighty odd miles between Rigolet and Cartwright +was from ten to twelve dollars a team, but for the two teams I needed +Jerry expected me to pay him sixty dollars. +</P> + +<P> +While I was still arguing with the immovable Jerry, John Williams, an +old livyere, fortunately arrived from West Bay, which is half way to +Cartwright, and Fraser used his influence with John to such good +purpose that he consented to take us with his dog team at least as far +as his home at the regular rate. John had only six dogs, but he told +us we should be able to get an additional team at William Mugford's two +miles beyond Rigolet. +</P> + +<P> +The strait at Rigolet was open, and when, late in the afternoon of +Monday, April 25th, we bade Mackenzie and Fraser farewell, George and +I, with our baggage and Hubbard's body, were taken across through the +cakes of floating ice in one of the Company's big boats, manned by a +crew of brawny post servants. +</P> + +<P> +On the other shore we loaded the baggage and coffin on John's komatik, +and with him driving the dogs and George and I walking behind on +snowshoes, we reached Mugford's at dusk. There we stopped for the +night, being served with the meals that the people all down the coast +usually eat at that time of the year—bread and molasses and tea. With +one or two exceptions we had to sleep on the floor at the places where +we stopped; for the houses generally contained only one room divided by +a partition. Almost all of the houses had low extensions used as a +storage place, and there Hubbard's body would rest over night. Never +did we pay anything for our entertainment; poor as the people are, they +would be greatly offended if a traveller they took in offered them +money. +</P> + +<P> +Generally speaking, we had good weather for our long journey to Battle +Harbour and pretty fair going. Day after day we followed the coast +line south, crossing from neck of land to neck of land over the frozen +bays and inlets. Sometimes we encountered ridges on the necks of land, +and then we would have to help the dogs haul the loads to the top. +Resuming our places on the komatiks, we would coast down the slopes, +with the dogs racing madly ahead to keep from being run over. If the +descent was very steep, a drag in the form of a hoop of braided walrus +hide would be thrown over the front of one of the komatik runners, but +even then the dogs would have to run their hardest to preserve a safe +distance between them and us, and out on the smooth ice of the bays we +would shoot, to skim along with exhilarating swiftness. As we +proceeded south we were interested in observing signs of spring. +Towards the end of our journey we encountered much soft snow and +water-covered ice. +</P> + +<P> +Mugford agreed to help us out with his four dogs as far as West Bay. +Arriving there, we found that only one team was procurable for the rest +of the trip to Cartwright, so John Williams continued on with us all +the way. Forty or fifty miles a day is about all that dogs can be +expected to accomplish with average going, and we spent two days +between Rigolet and Cartwright, reaching the Hudson's Bay Company Post +at Sandwich Bay on the evening of Wednesday, April 27th, to receive +kindly welcome from the agent, Mr. Swaffield. Again at Cartwright we +had some difficulty in getting dogs, and it was not until Friday +morning that we could push on. These delays were exasperating, for I +was bent on catching the steamer that Dr. Macpherson informed me in his +letter was due at Battle Harbour early in May. +</P> + +<P> +Our journey resumed, it was a case of fighting dog owners all the way. +Seal Islands, about ninety miles farther down the coast, we reached on +Saturday night, April 30th. There we had the good fortune to be +entertained by a quaint character in the person of Skipper George +Morris, a native trader. He had been expecting us, and he greeted me +as if I had been his long-lost brother. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear eyes!" he exclaimed, wringing my hand in his bluff, cordial way; +"Dear eyes! but I'se glad to see you—wonderful glad!" +</P> + +<P> +The skipper's house was far above the average of those on the coast. +It had two floors with two rooms each, and his good wife kept +everything clean and bright. Soon after our arrival the skipper got +out for our edification two shotguns—one single, and the other +double-barrelled—each of which was fully six feet long from butt to +muzzle and had a bore of one and one-half inches. +</P> + +<P> +"Th' Boers ha' been fightin' England," said he, "an' I got un [the gun] +t' fight, sir. Dear eyes! if th' Boers ha' come handy t' us, I thinks +I could ha' kept un off, sir. I knows I could wi' them guns. I'd sure +ha' shot through their schooners, sir, if un was big as th' mail boat +an' steamers like th' mail boat. I'd ha' shot through un, sir, an' th' +mail boat's a big un, sir, as you knows." +</P> + +<P> +The next day was May Day. I knew that at home the birds and the +flowers had returned, and that in dear old New York gay parties of +children were probably marching to the parks. What a May Day it was on +The Labrador! The morning ushered in a heavy snow storm, with a +tremendous gale. Thinking of the steamer due at Battle Harbour, I +suggested that, despite the storm, we might make a start. But the +skipper exclaimed: +</P> + +<P> +"Dear eyes! an' start in this gale! No, no, th' dogs could ne'er face +un, sir." +</P> + +<P> +And as George and our drivers thought likewise, we spent the day +resting with the old skipper and his wife, warmly housed and faring +sumptuously on wild duck, while the storm outside seemed to shake the +world to its very foundations. +</P> + +<P> +On May 2d the snow had almost ceased falling and the wind had somewhat +subsided, when at eleven o'clock we parted from the quaint old skipper +whose "Dear eyes!" continued to lend emphasis to his remarks up to the +last that we saw of him. Rounding a point of land soon after leaving +Seal Islands, we came suddenly upon two runaway dogs from a team that +had been stormbound at Seal Islands like ourselves. The runaways were +thoroughly startled by our sudden appearance, and took to their heels, +with our teams, composed respectively of ten dogs and twelve dogs, +after them. The ice we were on had been swept clear of snow by the +wind, the hauling was easy, and our dogs almost flattened themselves +out in their effort to get at the strangers and chew them up. The pace +became terrific, but there was nothing to do but hold on tight and +trust to luck. For perhaps five miles our wild ride lasted, and then, +the strange dogs turning to the snow-covered land, our teams abandoned +the race and condescended to pay some heed to their masters' excited +observations. Fortunately the chase had carried us in the direction +for which we were bound. +</P> + +<P> +Early in the afternoon we reached a cache of cod heads, and stopped +while the dogs were fed one each. Poor brutes! they had had nothing to +eat since Friday night—this was Monday—and I imagine a rather scant +meal even then; for at this time of the year the stock of salt seal +meat and fat and dried cod heads and caplin that the natives put up in +the summer and fall for dog food is nearly exhausted, and what remains +is used very economically. Often the dogs receive only one scanty meal +every other day. Our drivers had intended to feed their teams at Seal +Islands, but on account of the scarcity of dog food none could be +purchased. +</P> + +<P> +At four o'clock in the afternoon we reached Norman Bay, where we found +a miserable hut unoccupied save by an abundance of filth, two cats, and +one hen. As there were no tracks visible in the snow, the people +evidently had been away since the storm began on Saturday night. We +built a fire in the stove, made tea and fed ourselves, the cats, and +the hen from our grub bag. I invariably insisted that our drivers +travel as long as there was light, which at this season lasted until +after eight o'clock, and we pushed on until we came to Corbett's Bite, +a place that also rejoices in the name of New York, the same having +been facetiously bestowed upon it by some fisherman wag, because four +small huts had been collected there to make a "city." +</P> + +<P> +The inhabitants of New York had all moved to their fishing quarters +farther out on the coast when we arrived, and we took possession for +the night of the best of the huts. Filth and slush lay an inch deep on +the floor of the single room. A hole in the roof provided a means of +escape for the smoke from the fire we built in an improvised fireplace, +and, at the same time, a constant source of fear on our part lest some +of the dogs which roamed at will over the roof, fall through it and +into our fire. An old bench and loose boards taken from a +semi-partition in the room served as beds for our party, and we passed +a fairly comfortable night. +</P> + +<P> +We were off at daylight, and at half-past eight that morning (May 3d) +reached Williams Harbour, where I had hoped to engage the teams of John +and James Russell and proceed immediately to Battle Harbour, which +place was now only a few miles off. But the Russells were away and did +not return until night, so that we were unable to proceed until the +following morning. With their teams of eight and six dogs the Russells +got us away early, however, and at half-past eleven that morning (May +4th) we arrived at Fox Harbour, eight miles across the bay from Battle +Harbour. Now a new problem presented itself, which was all the more +exasperating for the reason that we were in sight of our goal. The ice +pack was in the bay, and it was quite impossible to cross it until the +wind might shift and blow the pack out. It is true that by a tortuous +trail some thirty miles around we could with dogs reach Cape Charles, +just below Battle Harbour; but none of the few drivers that knew the +trail was anxious to undertake the journey, and as the probabilities +were that even if we did succeed in reaching Cape Charles we should be +in the same fix there as where we were, our only course seemed to be to +remain at Fox Harbour and wait. No vessel, they told us, had yet +arrived either at Battle Harbour or Cape Charles. +</P> + +<P> +George Wakeham, an old English fisherman from Devonshire, who had spent +forty years of his life on The Labrador and had an Eskimo wife, +welcomed us to his house. Near it was an eminence called Watch Hill, +from which the general situation of the ice pack could be observed. +Day after day I climbed Watch Hill, and for hours at a time with a +telescope viewed the ice and gazed longingly at Battle Harbour in the +distance. On the morning of the ninth day the pack appeared to be +spreading, and I decided to run the risk of getting fast in the ice, +and make at least an attempt to start. So George and I and the five +natives that were to row us over got the boat afloat, prepared for a +start immediately after luncheon. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile George and I ascended Watch Hill for another look at the ice +pack. Upon scanning the distant shore line through the telescope we +discovered a speck moving in the bay away over near Battle Harbour. A +little later we were assured that it was a big row-boat laboriously +making its way through the ice. It came nearer and nearer, obviously +headed for Fox Harbour. At noon it arrived, and its brawny crew of +fishermen said they had come for us. Dr. Macpherson had sent them. +The steamer that the doctor had written me was expected had arrived at +Cape Charles with a cargo for a new whale factory, and probably would +sail for Newfoundland the next day. Having heard we were on our way +down the coast, and divining that we were held at Fox Harbour by the +ice, Dr. Macpherson had sent the boat so that we might be sure to get +the steamer. I marvelled greatly at these evidences of the doctor's +thoughtfulness for us who were absolute strangers to him, and was +deeply touched. +</P> + +<P> +We placed the coffin in the boat, together with our baggage, and +started at once. The men had instructions to take us directly to the +ship as she lay off Cape Charles, and after a row of about thirteen +miles we reached her at five o'clock in the afternoon. She was the +Aurora, one of the Newfoundland sealing fleet. It was like reaching +home to be on shipboard again, and I felt that my troubles were ended. +The mate, Patrick Dumphry, informed me, however, that her commander, +Captain Abraham Kean, was at Battle Harbour, and that the steamer would +not sail before the following night. So, wishing to have Hubbard's +coffin prepared for the voyage, and to meet and thank Dr. Macpherson, I +had the men row me back the five miles to Battle Harbour. +</P> + +<P> +There I learned that, upon receiving the first news of my proposed +attempt to bring out Hubbard's body, Dr. Macpherson had made a special +trip of twenty-five miles to Chateau Bay, to telegraph to New York +suggesting that arrangements be made with Bowering & Co., the owners of +the Aurora, to have that steamer pick us up at Battle Harbour. Perhaps +I should say here that the kindness of the doctor to us was only what +might have been expected from a gentleman by birth and breeding who, +with his charming wife, buries himself on the desolate coast of +Labrador, in order to do his Master's work. Pitiable indeed would be +the condition of the poor folk on The Labrador were it not for Dr. +Grenfell and his brave co-workers of the Deep Sea Mission. For +hundreds of miles along the coast they travel on their errands of +mercy, braving the violent storms of the bitter Arctic winter, sleeping +in the meanest of huts, and frequently risking their lives in open +boats on the raging sea. Many is the needy one for whom they have +found work, many is the stricken soul that they have comforted, and +many is the life that their medical skill has saved. +</P> + +<P> +At the doctor's house I received my first letters from home, and the +first accurate news of what had been transpiring in the outside world. +While there I also met Captain Kean. Unfortunately the people in New +York had not made the arrangement Dr. Macpherson had suggested, but the +captain assumed the responsibility of carrying us to Newfoundland, +saying that we should go as his guests. He is a former member of the +Newfoundland parliament, and a man of influence as well as initiative, +and it was lucky for us that he commanded the Aurora, else we, in all +probability, should have had to push farther down the coast with dogs, +or waited at Battle Harbour for the first appearance of the mail boat. +</P> + +<P> +The next day (Friday, May 13th) a firm of traders at Battle Harbour, +under Dr. Macpherson's supervision, lined Hubbard's coffin with sheet +lead and sealed it hermetically. The body was still frozen and in good +condition. In the afternoon we were taken to the Aurora by Dr. +Macpherson and a crew of his men, and established in the cabin, while +Hubbard's coffin was carefully stowed away in the hold, there to remain +until it was transferred at St. Johns to the Silvia, the steamer on +which my old friend, so full of life and ambition, had sailed from New +York, and which now was to carry him back a corpse. +</P> + +<P> +Because of a delay in getting her unloaded, the Aurora did not sail +until Saturday evening. The sky was all aglow with a gorgeous sunset +when we weighed anchor and steamed out of Cape Charles Harbour down +across the straits of Belle Isle. The night was equally glorious. As +darkness fell, the sky and sea were illuminated by the northern lights. +There was no wind and the sea was calm. Close to our port side an +iceberg with two great spires towered high above us; another large +iceberg was on our starboard. Before us Belle Isle and the French shore +were dimly visible. Behind us the rocky coast of Labrador gradually +faded away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXIV. HUBBARD'S MESSAGE +</H3> + +<P> +Out voyage from Labrador to Newfoundland was uneventful, and on Tuesday +morning, May 17th, the Aurora steamed into St. Johns Harbour. I was on +the bridge with Captain Kean when we passed through the narrows, +eagerly looking to see if the ship was there that was to take us home. +To my great satisfaction the Silvia was at her wharf, and George and I +lost no time in presenting ourselves to my old friend Captain Farrell, +her commander, who was engaged on deck when we arrived. He literally +took me to his arms in welcome, and like everyone in St. Johns showed +me the greatest consideration and kindness. Bowring & Company, the +owners of the Aurora, placed at my disposal their steam launch and such +men as I needed, to aid me in the transference of the body from the +Aurora to the Silvia, and they would make no charge for either this +service or for our passage from Cape Charles to St. Johns. +</P> + +<P> +On Friday morning, May 20th, the Silvia sailed from St. John's, and one +week later (Friday the 27th), with her flag at half mast, steamed +slowly to her dock in Brooklyn. +</P> + +<P> +It was a sad home-coming. Scarcely a year before, Hubbard, +light-hearted and gay, filled with hope and ambition and manly vigour, +had stood by my side on that very deck as together we waved farewell to +the friends that were gathered now to welcome George and me back. I +thought of how, when we were fighting our way across the desolate +wilderness, he had talked of, and planned for, this hour; and thought +of his childlike faith that God would take care of us and lead us +safely out. And then I asked myself why George and I, whose faith was +so much the weaker, had been spared, while Hubbard, who never lost +sight of the religion of his youth, was left to die. I felt that I was +the least deserving. And I lived. And Hubbard died. Why? I had no +answer to the question. That was God's secret. Perhaps Hubbard's work, +in the fulness of His plan, had been completed. Perhaps He still had +work for me to do. +</P> + +<P> +We laid him to rest in a beautiful spot in the little cemetery at +Haverstraw, at the very foot of the mountains that he used to roam, and +overlooking the grand old Hudson that he loved so well. The mountains +will know him no more, and never again will he dip his paddle into the +placid waters of the river; but his noble character, his simple faith, +a faith that never wavered, but grew the stronger in his hour of +trouble, his bravery, his indomitable will—these shall not be +forgotten; they shall remain a living example to all who love bravery +and self-sacrifice. +</P> + +<P> +The critics have said that Hubbard was foolhardy, and without proper +preparation he plunged blindly into an unknown wilderness. I believe +the early chapters of this narrative show that these criticisms are +unfounded, and that Hubbard took every precaution that could occur to a +reasonable mind. Himself a thorough student of wilderness travel, in +making his preparations for the journey he sought the advice of men of +wider experience as to every little detail and acted upon it. +</P> + +<P> +Others tell how fish-nets might have been made from willow bark "after +the manner of the Indians," and describe other means of securing food +that they claim men familiar with woodcraft would have resorted to. +The preceding chapters show how impracticable it would have been for us +to have consumed our small stock of provisions while manufacturing a +fish-net from bark; and how we did resort to every method at our +command of procuring food. Unfortunately we fell upon a year of +paucity. The old men of the country bore witness that never before +within their memory had there been such a scarcity of game. +</P> + +<P> +But by far the most serious criticism of all, to my mind, is that +against the object of the expedition. It has been said that, even had +Hubbard succeeded in accomplishing everything that he set out to do, +the result would have been of little or no value to the world. In +answer to this I cannot do better than to quote from the eloquent +tribute to Hubbard's expedition made by his old college friend, Mr. +James A. LeRoy, in the magazine issued by the Alumni Association of +their alma mater. +</P> + +<P> +"Editorial wiseacres," says Mr. LeRoy, "may preach that such efforts as +Hubbard made are of no great immediate value to the world, even if +successful. But the man who is born with the insatiable desire to do +something, to see what other men have not seen, to push into the waste +places of the world, to make a new discovery, to develop a new theme or +enrich an old, to contribute, in other words, to the fund of human +knowledge, is always something more than a mere seeker for notoriety; +he belongs, however slight may be his actual contribution to knowledge, +however great his success or complete his failure, to that minority +which has from the first kept the world moving on, while the vast +majority have peacefully travelled on with it in its course. The +unpoetical critic will not understand him, will find it easy to call +him a dreamer; yet it is from dreams like these that have come the +world's inspirations and its great achievements." +</P> + +<P> +Without any trace of the finicality that so often is pure morbidity, +Hubbard was the most conscientious man I ever knew, a man who was +continually thinking of others and how he might help them. Doubtless +some will see in his brave life's struggle only a determination to win +for himself a recognised place as a writer and expert upon out-of-door +life; but those who were privileged to enjoy his intimacy know that the +deep, underlying purpose of the man was to fit himself to deliver to +the world a message that he felt to be profoundly true—a message that +should inspire his fellow-men to encounter the battle of life without +flinching, that should make them realise that unceasing endeavour and +loyalty to God, their conscience and their brothers are indeed worth +while. He died before he reached the goal of his ambition, but I do not +believe that his message was undelivered. +</P> + +<P> +Only men that have camped together in a lonely, uninhabited country can +in any degree comprehend the bond of affection and love that drew +Hubbard and me ever closer to each other, as the Labrador Wild lured us +on and on into the depths of its desolate waste. "The work must be +done," he used to say, "and if one of us falls before it is completed, +the other must finish it." His words ring in my ear as a call to duty. +I see his dear, brave face before me now. I feel his lips upon my +cheek. The smoke of the camp-fire is in my blood. The fragrance of +the forest is in my nostrils. Perhaps it is God's will that I finish +the work of exploration that Hubbard began. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Lure of the Labrador Wild, by Dillon Wallace + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR WILD *** + +***** This file should be named 4019-h.htm or 4019-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/4019/ + +Produced by Martin Schub. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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