OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU
It was well for me that a mind at rest, on at least one very
important point, was my portion that night, else the nightlong
fight with the mosquitoes had been horrible indeed. They seemed to
come out of the ground. When despair of getting any sleep had
taken possession of me, I turned with such calmness as I could
muster to the task of killing them off. By diligent application I
hoped in the end to secure a little respite. To interest myself I
began to count my kill; but when it had reached one hundred and
fifty, and yet they came, I gave it up. I was still busy when the
morning light came to reveal hundreds of the vicious little beasts
clinging to the slope of my tent.
At breakfast I learned that the men had fared little better.
Usually they had the advantage of me where mosquitoes were
concerned, for with four pipes going in the tent the mosquitoes had
little chance; but that night pipes were of no avail, and there,
too, the mosquitoes were master of the situation.
On Tuesday it rained, and we did not break camp till the following
morning, when at 9 A.M. we were off for Lake Michikamau.
Travelling was now much less difficult than it had been, though the
river continued rapid. Our course, a few miles above Seal Lake,
turned directly west, and as we entered Lake Wachesknipi high hills
appeared ahead, showing deepest blue and purple under the cloudy
sky. Again we made nineteen miles, taking on the way one
partridge, two geese, and a muskrat, and camping in the evening at
the foot of Red Rock Hill. Here we were destined to remain for two
days on account of storms of wind and rain.
How I disliked the rainy days, for I was not very patient of delay.
There was little one could do in camp, and lounging in a tent when
you are not tired has few redeeming features.
After noon on Thursday Job set off to climb the hill. In the
evening when I went out to supper the ground under the tarpaulins,
which were strung up for shelter on either side of the fire, was
covered with fresh cut shavings. Job had returned, and was
carefully putting the finishing touches to a new axe handle. He
said he had been up among the clouds, and reported two heavy rapids
and a little lake a few miles ahead.
The following afternoon, albeit it was still raining, the men
prepared to climb the hill again, and I wanted to go too. Job,
however, assured me that it would be impossible as the hill was
altogether too steep and slippery. I was much disappointed. It
seemed such an ignominious sort of thing too, to be an explorer,
and have one of my party tell me I could not do something he had
already done, and was about to do again, just for the mere pleasure
of it.
That it might not be too trying I had George go with me in the
canoe up to the rapids. The first one, Seal Rapid, was almost
three miles above our camp, and it came down from the west swinging
to the south round a high sand-point and entering a small lake
expansion. We landed at the head of a little bay south of the
point, and crossed to the rapids. They were very wild and fine,
but fortunately they did not extend far, and about three-quarters
of a mile of portaging would put us on smooth water again. Here
for the first time we found the rocks along the shore and in the
river-bed of varied and beautiful colours. There were among them
red and green and blue of many and exquisite shades--the greens
being particularly beautiful. From near the head of the bay
several small lakes extended westward, and through these we thought
the Indians probably made their portages. It was quite late when
we returned to camp, the journey back being a rather hard paddle
against a strong head wind. The men had already returned from the
hill, bringing a few partridges with them.
It was nearly midday on Saturday when we left Red Rock Camp, and
the rain was still falling a little; but the prospects were for a
fine evening and a dry camp, so it was decided to push on as
already we had been delayed more than half the week. Soon the rain
ceased, and, passing the portages round Seal and Cascade Rapids, we
found ourselves on smooth water again. The sky cleared as we
proceeded, and an occasional gleam of sunshine lent its charm to
the scenes of quiet beauty through which we were passing. The
river was soft and smooth as satin, with a slightly raised cushion-
like appearance, that I had never noticed on smooth water before.
About the middle of the afternoon, as we rounded a bend of the
river, we saw far ahead on the low drift shore, five large black
objects close to the water's edge. There could be but one animal
of such size and colour in this region, and I became quite stirred
up over the prospect of an encounter with what looked like a bear
picnic. I watched eagerly as we approached, rather wondering how
we were going to manage five of them, when in a most inexplicable
manner they dwindled suddenly, and my five bears had become as many
ducks. It was the first time I had ever seen so striking an
example of mirage. We secured three of the transformed bears, and
on Sunday morning had stewed duck and fresh bannocks for breakfast.
Owing to the enforced rest through the week we decided to go
forward on Sunday. After a late breakfast the task of loading the
outfit into the canoes was not yet complete when Gilbert was heard
to exclaim: "What's that? A duck? No, it's a deer."
Immediately all was excitement. Up in the, little lake above our
camp a caribou was swimming across to the north shore. The
movement in camp suddenly became electrical. The last of the load
was thrown into the canoe. I stepped in as George cut the rope,
which tied it to the willows, and we were off.
I was much excited at first, especially as the caribou was a long
distance away, and I was sure he would reach land before we could
come near enough to shoot him. He was almost ashore, and in my
thought I saw him bounding up over the hills away out of our reach,
and was glad. When George took the rifle to shoot I was not in the
least afraid for the caribou, because I knew he would not be hit
and he was not. But, Alas! I soon learned that it was not meant he
should be. The bullet dropped, as it was intended to, in front of
him, frightened him, and turned him back into the lake. My heart
sickened as I realised what it meant. He was so near to safety.
If he had only gone on. If he had only known.
The men were now almost lifting the canoe with every stroke of the
paddles, and she threw the water from her bows like a little
steamer. We were soon up with the caribou, and I pulled my hat
down over my eyes while the deed was done. We were so close that
George thought he would try to kill him with his pistol. When I
looked up, after the first shot, the caribou was ploughing through
the water just as before. After the second I could see him
trembling and blood on the water--but he was still going on. Then
I asked George to take his rifle and settle the matter quickly. He
did, and the sound of the water as the caribou made his way through
it ceased. I did not need to look again to know what had happened.
He was towed ashore, skinned and dressed, but how I wished I could
think of him as speeding over his native hills, rather than as he
was. Yet, too, I knew it was well for us that we had secured the
supply, of fresh meat, for although we had considerably more than
half the original supply of provisions, we were still far from the
journey's end.
It was a three-year-old stag, Job said, and when the operation of
skinning and cutting up had been performed, we had about 250 lbs.
of fresh meat added to our supply.
The day was now fine, though occasional light showers passed; but
these rather added to the beauty all about us than otherwise. The
river was proving a succession of lake expansions, for the most
part not more than half a mile wide. Rugged, barren mountains rose
in all directions, and I had the feeling of being up among the
hill-tops, as if these were not whole hills, but only their tops.
The trip was proving so beautiful and easy that my state of mind
was one of continued surprise. I had none of the feeling of
loneliness, which I knew every one would expect me to have. I did
not feel far from home, but in reality less homeless than I had
ever felt anywhere, since I knew my husband was never to come back
to me. So far I had encountered none of the real stress of
wilderness life, everything had gone well with us, everything was
made easy for me; I had had no hardships to bear, and there was the
relief of work to do, work which would for ever associate my
husband's name with the country where he hoped to begin his
explorations. For long months of darkness I had not dreamed that I
could ever have the gladness and honour of doing this. Now it
seemed that I might almost count on success.
As we continued our journey the river grew more and more
mysterious, ending apparently in each little lake, and keeping us
constantly guessing as to the direction in which our course would
next lead us. The inlet in the numerous expansions was unfailingly
concealed, so that not until we were almost upon it could it be
made out. Most mysterious of all was the last lake of our day's
journey, where the rush of the entering river could plainly be
seen, but appeared to come pouring forth from a great hole in the
side of a mountain. As the current swung round the upper end of
the lake it made the last half hour's work decidedly exciting. We
landed to camp for the night on the first portage since passing
Cascade Rapid, nearly twenty miles back.
We had caribou roast for supper, and, to my surprise, I found it
one of the most delicious things I had ever eaten, altogether
different from any venison I had before tasted. An astonishing
amount of that roast was stowed away before the camp was quiet for
the night.
The northern lights were that evening very brilliant. When I put
out my light at bed-time it was as if a bright moon was shining. I
looked out, and above were three broad circles of light with long-
pointed fingers raying up to the centre directly over my tent as I
watched. It seemed like a benediction from the hand of God
Himself. Gradually they drew off to the northwest in great,
beautiful scrolls.
The day following, Monday, July 24th, the river continued most
bewildering. Beside the portage at our camp, we had one, about
half a mile long, farther up where the old trail was quite well
marked, and carried us past a fall of about seven feet with a heavy
rapid below. All day our way led among high hills till towards
evening, when they spread out to the north and south, and we saw
ahead a terraced sand plain, several miles wide, with the hills
again beyond. Here, coming in from the northwest, was a brook,
where, according to our map, the Indian route again leaves the
river. This meant another long stretch of rough water, but our
plan was still to keep to the river as far as it was possible,
finding our own portage route where necessary.
The river's course was now cut deep into the plain, the banks being
from thirty to forty feet in height, and the current very swift.
The plain had once been sparsely, wooded but was burned over and
very desolate looking now. Huckleberries, cranberries, and
Labrador tea grew in profusion, and were in blossom, while patches
of reindeer moss were seen struggling into life where we made our
camp.
During the last part of the day's journey the current had been
increasingly swift, and some distance ahead we could hear the sound
of a heavy waterfall. We reached it the following morning about
two miles or more above our camp. It was a beauty, about thirty
feet in height. The canoes could be taken close to the foot of the
fall, and after a short carry over the high, rocky point were put
in the water again not twenty feet from the brink of the fall.
As the morning was fine, I had walked from camp to the fall while
the men brought up the canoes. I was striding along the terrace,
not thinking at all about my surroundings, when I suddenly became
conscious of a most delightful fragrance, and looking down I found
myself in the midst of a tangle of the long, trailing vines of the
twin flower (Linnea borealis), sweetest of all Labrador flowers,
with hundreds of the slender, hair-like stems bearing their
delicate pink bells. How delighted I was to find it. Other
Labrador flowers were beautiful, but none so lovely as this.
Above the falls the river was very rough, and in the next half or
three-quarters of a mile we made three more portages, and landed a
little before noon at a high, rocky point on the south shore, to
find ourselves at the edge of the hill country again. Here the
river was crowded between high, rocky hills where it flowed too
swift and deep for either poles or paddles. We could keep to it no
farther, and so made camp, for now some scouting for a portage
route would be necessary.
While at dinner that day a thundershower passed. The thunderstorms
of Labrador seem very mild and gentle as compared with those we are
accustomed to. Later it settled to steady rain. Job went
scouting, and the others lay in the tent most of the afternoon, Joe
and Gilbert not feeling very well. Trouble--change of diet with a
little too much of it. Job on his return in the evening reported
the river bending away to the southwest a few miles farther on, and
impassable as far as he could see. There would be a long portage
west and south, but the country was not very rough, and a number of
small lakes would give some paddling.
The following day all the men, except Job, were ill, and camp was
not moved till Thursday morning. When evening came, the outfit had
been taken forward three and a half miles. The three small lakes
we had passed had given about one mile of paddling, and at night
our camp was made at the edge of the fourth, a tiny still water
pond.
The flies were that day worse than I had ever seen them. My veil
proving an insufficient protection, I made myself a mask from one
of the little waterproof bags, cutting a large hole in front
through which I could see and breathe, and sewing over it several
thicknesses of black veiling. There were as well two holes cut at
the back of the ears for ventilation-these also being covered with
the veiling. Pulling it over my head I tied it tight round my
neck. It was most fearful and hideous to look upon, but it kept
out the flies. The men insisted that I should have to take it off
when we came to the Nascaupees else they would certainly shoot me.
The flies were in clouds that day, and even their tapping on the
outside of my mask made me shudder. I ached as I watched the men
carrying their heavy loads, for it was very, very hot, and they
wore no protection whatever. How they endured so uncomplainingly I
could not understand, and they rarely wore their veils. It was an
unspeakable relief when the clear, cool night closed in, and for a
time put an end to the torture.