JONATHAN P. CILLEY, JR.

* * * * *

ON BOARD THE JULIA A. DECKER,

OFF BIRD ROCKS,

Gulf of St. Lawrence, Sept. 10, 1891.

While our little vessel is rushing through the blue waters of the

gulf, apparently scorning the efforts of the swift little Halifax

trader who promised to keep us company from the Straits to the Gut,

and who, by dint of good luck and constant attention to sails has thus

far kept her word, but is now steadily falling astern and to leeward,

I will tell you about the snug little harbors, the bold headlands,

barren slopes, and bird-covered rocks, and also the odorous fishing

villages and the kind-hearted people with whom she has made us

acquainted.

The Bowdoin scientific expedition to Labrador is now familiar with six

of the seven wonders in this truly wonderful region. It has visited

Grand Falls and "Bowdoin Canyon;" has been bitten by black flies and

mosquitoes which only Labrador can produce, both in point of quality

and quantity; has wandered through the carriage roads (!) and gardens

of Northwest River and Hopedale; has dug over, mapped and photographed

the prehistoric Eskimo settlements that line the shores, to the north

of Hamilton Inlet; has made itself thoroughly conversant with the

great fishing industry that has made Labrador so valuable, to

Newfoundland in particular, and to the codfish consuming world in

general; and finally is itself the sixth wonder, in that it has

accomplished all it set out to do, though of course not all that would

have been done had longer time, better weather and several other

advantages been granted it.

It is almost another wonder, too, in the eyes of the Labradoreans,

that we have, without pilot and yet without accident or trouble of any

sort, made such a trip along their rocky coast, entered their most

difficult harbors, and outsailed their fastest vessels, revenue

cutters, traders and fishermen.

It will be a good many years before the visit of the "Yankee college

boys," the speed of the Yankee schooner and the skill and seamanship

of the Yankee captain are forgotten "on the Labrador."

The day after we left, July 19th, the mail steamer reached Battle

Harbor with the first mail of the season. On board were Messrs. Bryant

and Kenaston, anxiously looking for the Bowdoin party and estimating

their chances of getting to the mouth of Grand River. They brought

with them an Adirondack boat, of canoe model, relying on the country

to furnish another boat to carry the bulk of their provisions and a

crew to man the same.

[Rigolette] When the news was received that we were a day ahead, the

race began in earnest, the captain of the "Curlew" entering heartily

into the sport and doing his best to overhaul the speedy Yankee

schooner. When about half way up to Rigolette, on the third day from

Battle Harbor, as we were drifting slowly out of "Seal Bight," into

which we had gone the previous night to escape the numerous icebergs

that went grinding by, the black smoke, and later the spars of the

mail steamer were seen over one of the numerous rocky little islets

that block the entrance to the bight. The steamer's flag assured us

that it was certainly the mail steamer, and many and anxious were the

surmises as to whether our rivals were on board, and earnest were the

prayers for a strong and favoring wind. It soon came, and we bowled

along at a rattling pace, our spirits rising as we could see the

steamer, in shore, gradually dropping astern. Towards night we neared

Domino Run, and losing sight of the steamer, which turned out to make

a stop at some wretched little hamlet that had been shut out from the

outer world for nine months, at about the same time lost our breeze

also. But the wind might rise again, and time was precious, so a

bright lookout was kept for bergs, and we drifted on through the

night. The next morning a fringe of islands shut our competitor from

sight, but after an aggravating calm in the mouth of the inlet, we

felt a breeze and rushed up towards Rigolette, only to meet the

steamer coming out while we were yet several hours from that place.

Here we had our first experience with the immense deer-flies of

Labrador. Off Mt. Gnat they came in swarms and for self-protection

each man armed himself with a small wooden paddle and slapped at them

right and left, on the deck, the rail, another fellow's back or head,

in fact, wherever one was seen to alight. The man at the wheel was

doubly busy, protecting himself, with the assistance of ready

volunteers, from their lance-like bites, and steering the quickly

moving vessel.

At last the white buildings and flag-staff which mark all the Hudson

Bay Co.'s posts in Labrador, came in sight, snugly nestled in a little

cove, beneath a high ridge lying just to the north-west of it, and

soon we were at anchor. Our intention was to get into the cove, but

the six knot current swept us by the mouth before the failing breeze

enabled us to get in.

After supper the necessary formal call was made on the factor, Mr.

Bell, by the professor, armed with a letter of introduction from the

head of the company in London, and escorted by three or four of the

party. A rather gruff reception, at first met with, became quite

genial, when it appeared that we wanted no assistance save a pilot,

and called only to cultivate the acquaintance of the most important

official in Labrador.

With a promise to renew the acquaintance upon our return, we left, and

after a hard pull and an exciting moment in getting the boat fast

alongside, on account of the terrific current, we reached the deck and

reported.

Our rivals were there, and had hired the only available boat and crew

to transport them to North West River. This threw us back on our

second plan, viz: to take our party right to the mouth of the Grand

River ourselves, which involved a trip inland of one hundred miles to

the head of Lake Melville. This it was decided to do, and after some

delay in securing a pilot, owing to the transfer at the last moment of

the affections of the first man we secured to the other party, John

Blake came aboard and we started on our new experience in inland

navigation. Just as we entered the narrows, after a stop at John's

house to tell his wife where we were taking him, and to give her some

medicine and advice from the doctor, we saw our rivals starting in

the boat they had secured. That was the last we saw of them, till they

reached North West River, two days after our party had started up the

Grand River.

North West River is the name of the Hudson Bay Co.'s post at the mouth

of the river of the same name, flowing into the western extremity of

Lake Melville, about fifteen miles north of the mouth of Grand River.

Hamilton Inlet proper extends about forty miles in from the Atlantic

to the "Narrows," a few miles beyond Rigolette, where Lake Melville

begins. A narrow arm of the lake extends some unexplored distance east

of the Narrows, south of and parallel to the southern shore of the

inlet. The lake varies from five to forty miles in width and is ninety

miles long, allowing room for an extended voyage in its capacious

bosom. The water is fresh enough to drink at the upper end of the

lake, and at the time of our visit was far pleasanter and less arctic

for bathing than the water off any point of the Maine coast. About

twenty miles from the Narrows a string of islands, rugged and barren,

but beautiful for their very desolation, as is true of so much of

Labrador, nearly block the way, but we found the channels deep and

clear, and St. John's towering peak makes an excellent guide to the

most direct passage.

One night was spent under way, floating quietly on the lake, so

delightfully motionless after the restless movements of Atlantic seas.

A calm and bright day following, during which the one pleasant swim in

Labrador waters was taken by two of us, was varied by thunder squalls

and ended in fog and drizzle, causing us to anchor off the abrupt

break in the continuous ridge along the northern shore, made by the

Muligatawney River. Although in an insecure and exposed anchorage, yet

the fact that we were in an inclosed lake gave a sense of security to

the less experienced, that the snug and rocky harbors to which we had

become accustomed, usually failed to give on account of the roaring of

the surf a few hundred yards away, on the other side of the narrow

barrier that protected the rocky basin.

The following day was bright and showery by turns, but the heart's

wish of our Grand River men was granted, and while the schooner lay

off the shoals at the mouth of the river they were to make famous,

they started as will be described, and the rest of the expedition

turned towards North West River, hoping they, too, could now get down

to their real work.

The noble little vessel was reluctant to leave any of her freight in

so desolate a place, in such frail boats as the Rushtons seemed, and

in the calm between the thunder squalls, several times turned towards

them, as they energetically pushed up the river's mouth, and seemed to

call them back as she heavily flapped her white sails. They kept

steadily on, however, while the Julia, bowing to a power stronger than

herself, and to a fresh puff from the rapidly rising thunder heads,

speedily reached North West River.

North West River is a sportsman's paradise. Here we found the only

real summer weather of the trip, the thermometer reaching 76 deg. F. on

two days in succession, and thunder storms occurring regularly every

afternoon. Our gunners and fishermen were tempted off on a long trip.

One party planning to be away two or three days, but returning the

following morning, reported tracks and sounds of large animals. They

said the rain induced them to return so soon.

[Montagnais Indians] Here we found a camp of Montagnais Indians,

bringing the winter's spoils of furs to trade at the post for flour

and powder, and the other articles of civilization that they are

slowly learning to use. They loaf on their supplies during the summer,

hunting only enough to furnish themselves with meat, and then starve

during the winter if game happens to be scarce. Measurements were made

of some twenty-five of this branch of the Kree tribe, hitherto unknown

to anthropometric science, and a full collection of household utensils

peculiar to their tribe was procured. Several of the Nascopee tribe

were with them, the two inter-marrying freely, and were also measured.

The latter are not such magnificent specimens of physical development

as the Montagnais, but their tribe is more numerous and seems, if

anything, better adapted to thrive in Labrador than their more

attractive brothers.

The only remains of their picturesque national costume that we saw,

was the cap. The women wore a curious knot of hair, about the size of

a small egg, over each ear, while the men wore their hair cut off

straight around, a few inches above the shoulders.

In point of personal cleanliness, these people equal any aborigines we

have seen, though their camp exhibited that supreme contempt for

sanitation that characterizes every village except the Hudson Bay

Co.'s posts on the Labrador coast, whether of Indians, Esquimaux or

"planters," as the white and half-breed settlers are called.

Some curious scenes were enacted while the professor was trading for

his desired ethnological material. With inexhaustible patience and

imperturbable countenance, he sat on a log, surrounded by yelping

dogs, and by children and papooses of more or less tender ages and

scanty raiment, playing on ten cent harmonicas that had for a time

served as a staple of trade, struggling with the dogs and with their

equally excited mothers and sisters for a sight of the wonderful

basket from whose apparently inexhaustible depths came forth yet more

harmonicas, sets of celluloid jewelry, knives, combs, fish-hooks,

needles, etc., _ad infinitum_. The men, whose gravity equalled the

delight of the women and children, held themselves somewhat aloof,

seldom deigning to enter the circle about the magic basket, and making

their trades in a very dignified and careless fashion.

That these people are capable of civilization there can be no doubt.

Missing the interpreter, without whom nothing could be done, the

professor inquired for him and learned that he had returned to his

wigwam. Upon being summoned he said he was tired of talking. Thereupon

the professor bethought himself and asked him if he wanted more pay.

The interpreter, no longer tired, was willing to talk all night.

The camp was in a bend of the river and at the head of rapids about

four miles from the mouth, up which we had to track, that is, one man

had to haul the boat along by the bank with a small rope called a

tracking line, while another kept her off the rocks by pushing against

her with an oar. At that point the river opened out into a beautiful

lake from one to two miles in width, whose further end we could not

see. As this river never has been explored to its head, we were

surprised that Messrs. Bryant and Kenaston, who were ready for their

inland trip about a week after our party had started up the Grand

River, had not chosen it as a field for their work rather than follow

in the footsteps of our expedition.

[A carriage road] Of all Labrador north of the Straits, North West

River alone boasts a carriage road. To be sure, there are neither

horses nor carriages at that post, but when Sir Donald A. Smith, at

present at the head of the Hudson Bay Co.'s interests in Canada, but

then plain Mr. Smith, factor, was in charge of that post his energy

made the place a garden in the wilderness, and in addition to luxuries

of an edible sort, he added drives in a carriage through forest and by

shore, for about two miles, on a well made road. Now, we are informed

there is not a horse or cow north of Belle Isle. The present factor,

Mr. McLaren, is a shrewd Scotchman, genial and warm-hearted beneath a

rather forbidding exterior, as all of our party who experienced his

hospitality can testify.

In spite of all its attractions we could not stay at North West River.

In five weeks we were to meet our river detail at Rigolette, and

during that time a trip north of 400 miles was to be made and the bulk

of the expedition's scientific work to be done.

Our day's sail, with fresh breezes and favoring squalls, took us the

whole length of the delightful lake, whose waters had seldom been

vexed by a keel as long as the Julia's, and brought us to an anchor

off Eskimo Island. Here we had one of our regular fights with the

mosquitoes, the engagement perhaps being a trifle hotter than usual,

for they swarmed down the companion way every time the "mosquito

door," of netting on a light frame hinged to the hatch house, was

opened, in brigades and divisions and finally by whole army corps,

till we were forced to retreat to our bunks, drive out the intruding

hosts, which paid no respect whatever to our limited 6x3x3 private

apartments, by energetically waving and slapping a towel around, then

quickly shutting the door of netting, also on a tightly fitting frame,

and devoting an hour or two at our leisure to demolishing the few

stragglers that remained within; or possibly the whole night, if an

unknown breach had been found by the wily mosquito somewhere in our

carefully made defenses. A few bones were taken from the Eskimo graves

that abound on the island, but the mosquitoes seriously interfered

with such work and the party soon returned to the vessel. The

absolutely calm night allowed the mosquitoes to reach us and stay; and

in spite of its brevity and the utter stillness of the vast solitude

about us, broken only now and then by a noise from the little Halifax

trader whose acquaintance we here made for the first time, and of whom

we saw so much on our return voyage across the gulf, or by the howling

of wolves and Eskimo dogs in the distance, we were glad when it was

over and a morning breeze chased from our decks the invading hosts.

A short stop at Rigolette, to send about fifty letters ashore, a two

days' delay in a cold, easterly storm at Turner Cove, on the south

side of the inlet, when the icy winds, in contrast to the warm weather

we had lately enjoyed, made us put on our heavy clothes and, even

then, shiver--a delay, however, that we did not grudge, for we were in

a land of fish, game and labradorite--this of a poor quality, as we

afterward learned--and where the doctor had more patients than he

could easily attend to. At last a pleasant Sunday's run to Indian

Harbor got us clear of Hamilton Inlet. There we found the usual

complement of fish and fishing apparatus, but with the addition of a

few Yankee vessels and a church service.

The latter we were quite surprised to find, and several went, out of

curiosity, and had the satisfaction of finding a small room, packed

with about fifty human beings, with no ventilation whatever, and of

sitting on seats about four inches wide with no backs. The people were

earnest and respectful, but did not seem to understand all that was

said, as, perhaps, is not to be wondered at, since they are the

poorest class of Newfoundlanders.

Indian Harbor is like so many others on the coast, merely a "tickle"

with three ticklish entrances full of sunken rocks and treacherous

currents. The small islands that make the harbor are simply bare

ledges, very rough and irregular in outline. The fishing village,

also, like all others, consists of little earthen-covered hovels,

stuck down wherever a decently level spot fifteen feet square can be

found, and of fishing stages running out from every little point and

cove, in which the catch is placed to be taken care of, and alongside

of which the heavy boats can lie without danger of being smashed by

the undertow that is continually heaving against the shore.

[Storm and fog] A two days' run brought us up to Cape Harrigan,

rounding which we went into Webeck Harbor, little thinking that in

that dreary place storm and fog would hold us prisoners for five days.

That was our fate, and even now we wonder how we lived through that

dismal time.

One day served to make us familiar with the flora, fauna, geography

and geology of the region, for it was not an interesting place from a

scientific point of view, however the fishermen may regard it, and

after the departure of the mail steamer, leaving us all disappointed

in regard to mail, time dragged on us terribly.

Two or three of the more venturesome ones could get a little sport by

pulling a long four miles down to the extremity of Cape Harrigan,

where sea pigeon had a home in the face of a magnificent cliff,

against the bottom of which the gunners had to risk being thrown by

the heavy swell rolling against it, as they shot from a boat bobbing

like a cork, at "guillemots" flying like bullets from a gun out of the

face of the cliff. One evening a relief party was sent off for two who

had gone off to land on a bad lee shore and were some hours overdue.

To be sure the missing ones arrived very soon, all right, while the

search party got back considerably later, drenched with spray and with

their boat half full of water, but the incident gave some relief from

the monotony.

Another evening several visiting captains and a few friends from

ashore were treated to a concert by the Bowdoin Glee and Minstrel

Club. All the old favorites of from ten years ago and less were served

up in a sort of composite hash, greatly to the delight of both

audience and singers.

[Abundance of codfish] At Webeck Harbor, which we came to pronounce

"Wayback," probably because it seemed such a long way back to anything

worthy of human interest, we saw the business of catching cod at its

best. They had just "struck a spurt," the fishermen said, and day

after day simply went to their traps, filled their boats and bags,

took the catch home, where the boys and "ship girls" took charge of

it, and returned to the traps to repeat the process. An idea of the

amount of fish taken may be given by the figures of the catch of five

men from one schooner, who took one thousand quintals of codfish in

thirteen days. We obtained a better idea of the vast catch by the

experience of one of our parties who spent part of a day at the traps,

as the arrangement of nets along the shore is called, into which the

cod swim and out of which they are too foolish to go. They are on much

the same plan as salmon weirs, only larger, opening both ways, and

being placed usually in over ten fathoms of water and kept in place by

anchors, shore lines, and floats and sinkers. Once down they are

usually kept in place a whole season. The party were in a boat, inside

the line of floats, so interested in watching the fishermen making the

"haul," as the process of overhauling the net and passing it under the

boat is called, by which the fish are crowded up into one corner where

they can be scooped out by the dozen, that they did not notice that

the enormous catch was being brought to the surface directly under

them till their own boat began to rise out of the water, actually

being grounded on the immense shoal of codfish.

It was a strange sensation and makes a strange story. All the time

that we were storm-stayed at Webeck the "spurt" continued, and the

trap owners were tired but jubilant. The "hand-lining" crews were

correspondingly depressed, for, though so plenty, not a cod would bite

a hook. It is this reason, that is, because an abundance of food

brings the cod to the shores in great numbers and at the same time

prevents them from being hungry, that led to the abandonment of

trawling and the universal adoption of the trap method. We did not see

a single trawl on the coast, and it is doubtful if there was one there

in use.

During these spurts, the day's work just begins, in fact, after the

hard labor of rowing the heavy boats out, perhaps two miles, to the

trap, hauling, mending the net, loading and unloading the fish--always

a hard task and sometimes a very difficult one on account of the heavy

sea--has been repeated three or four times; for the number of fish is

so great that the stage becomes overloaded by night, and the boat

crews then have to turn to and help take care of the catch and clear

the stage for the next day's operations. Till long after midnight the

work goes merrily on in the huts or shelters over the stages, for the

hard work then means no starvation next winter in the Newfoundland

homes, and the fish are split, cleaned, headed, salted and packed with

incredible rapidity.

The tired crews get an hour or two of sleep just as they are; then,

after a pot of black tea and a handful of bread, start out to begin

the next day's work, resting and eating during the hour between the

trips, and then going out again, and repeating the some monotonous

round over and over till we wondered how they lived through it, and

what was to be done with all the fish. When there is a good breeze the

boats are rigged and a large part of the weary labor of rowing is

escaped. How tired the crews would look as the big twenty-four feet

boats went dashing by our vessel in the fog and rain, on the outward

trip, and how happy, though if possible more tired, as they came back

three or four hours later, loaded to the gunwale with cod, and

thinking, perhaps, of the bags full that they had left buoyed near the

trap because the boat would not carry the whole catch. It is a hard

life, and no wonder the men are not much more than animals; but they

work with dogged persistence, for in a little more than two months

enough must be earned to support their families for the year. When the

"spurt" ends the crews get a much needed rest, and attend to getting a

supply of salt ashore from the salt vessel from Cadiz, Spain, one of

which we found lying in nearly every fishing harbor, serving as a

storehouse for that article so necessary to the fishermen.

As to the magnitude of the industry, it is estimated that there are

about 3,000 vessels and 20,000 men employed in it during the season.

Some of the vessels are employed in merely bringing salt and taking

away the fish, notably the great iron tramp steamers of from 1,500 to

2,000 tons, which seem so much out of place moored to the sides of

some of the little rocky harbors. The average catch in a good year is,

we were informed, from four to six hundred quintals in a vessel of

perhaps forty tons, by a crew of from four to eight men. The trap

outfit costs about $500 and is furnished by the large fish firms in

Newfoundland, to be paid for with fish. As the market price, to the

fishermen, is from five dollars to six dollars a quintal, the value of

the industry is at once apparent.

The great bulk of the fish go to Mediterranean ports direct, to

Catholic countries, chiefly, and also to Brazil. The small size and

imperfect curing which the Labrador summer allows make the fish almost

unsalable in English and American markets. Many of the cod are of the

black, Greenland variety, which are far less palatable, and are

usually thrown away or cured separately for the cheaper market.

All storms come to an end finally, and at last the sun shone, the

windlass clanked and we were underway. The long delay seemed to have

broken our little schooner's spirits, for after being out three or

four hours we had gone but as many miles, and those in the wrong

direction.

At length the gentle breeze seemed to revive her and we gently slipped

by the Ragged Islands and Cape Mokkavik. That Sunday evening will long

be remembered by us, for in addition to the delight we felt at again

moving northward, and the charm of a bright evening with a gentle,

fair wind and smooth water, allowing us to glide by hundreds of fulmar

and shearwater sitting on the water, scarcely disturbed by our

passage, the moon was paled by the brightest exhibition of the aurora

we saw while in northern waters. Its sudden darts into new quarters of

the heavens, its tumultuous waves and gentle undulations, now looking

like a fleecy cloud, now like a gigantic curtain shaken by still more

gigantic hands into ponderous folds--all were reflected in the quiet

water and from the numerous bergs, great and small, that dotted the

surface, till the beholder was at times awe-struck and silent,

utterly unable to find words with which to express himself.

The next day we rounded Gull Island, which we identified with some

difficulty, owing to the absence of the flagstaff by which the coast

pilot says it can be distinguished, and, after a delightful sail up

the clear sound leading through the fringe of islands to Hopedale, we

spied the red-roofed houses and earth-covered huts, the mission houses

and Eskimo village, of which the settlement consists, snugly hidden

behind little "Anatokavit," or little Snow Hill Island, at the foot of

a steep and lofty hill surmounted by the mission flagstaff. Here we

were destined to pass five days as pleasant as the five at Webeck had

been tedious.

[Hopedale] The harbor at Hopedale is the best one we visited on the

coast. The twelve miles of sound, fringed and studded with islands,

completely broke the undertow which had kept our vessel constantly

rolling, when at anchor, in every harbor except those up Hamilton

Inlet and Lake Melville.

About two miles south of us a vast, unexplored bay ran for a long

distance inland, while to the north, looking from Flagstaff Peak, we

could see Cape Harrigan and the shoals about it, the numberless

inlets, coves and bays which fill in the sixty miles to Nain. We were

very much disappointed at our inability to go north to that place, but

before our start from the United States Hopedale had been named as the

point with which we would be content if ice and winds allowed us to

reach it, and that point proved the northern limit of our voyage.

About half a mile across the point of land on which the missionary

settlement lies, is the site of the pre-historic village of "Avatoke,"

which means "may-we-have-seals." It consisted of three approximately

circular houses, in line parallel with the shore, at the head of a

slight cove, backed to the west by a high hill, and with a fine beach

in front, now raised considerably from the sea level. Along the front

of the row of houses were immense shell heaps, from which we dug

ivory, that is, walrus teeth; carvings, stone lamps, spear heads,

portions of kyaks, whips, komatiks, as the sleds are called, etc.,

etc., and bones innumerable of all the varieties of birds, fish and

game on which the early Eskimo dined; as well as remnants of all the

implements which Eskimos used in the household generations ago, and

which can nearly all now be recognized by the almost identically

shaped and made implements in the houses of Eskimos there in Hopedale,

so little do they change in the course of centuries. The village has

been completely deserted for over one hundred years, and was in its

prime centuries before that, so the tales of its greatness are only

dim Eskimo traditions.

The houses were found to average about thirty-five feet across on the

inside; are separated by a space of about fifteen feet, and each had a

long, narrow doorway or entrance, being almost exactly in line. The

walls are about fifteen feet thick and now about five feet high, of

earth, with the gravel beach for a foundation. The inside of the wall

was apparently lined with something resembling a wooden bench. When,

in one of the houses, the remains of the dirt and stone roof that had

long since crushed down the rotten poles and seal skins that made the

framework and first covering, had been carefully removed, the floor

was found to be laid with flagstones, many three or four feet across,

closely fitted at the edges and well laid in the gravel so as to make

a smooth, even floor. This extended to the remains of the bench at the

sides, and made a dwelling which for Eskimo land must have been

palatial. The evidences of fire showed the hearth to have been near

the center of the floor, a little towards the entrance, in order to

get the most from its heat. The Hopedale Eskimo were themselves

surprised at the stone floor, but one old man remembered that he had

been told that such floors were used long ago, in the _palmier_ days

of Eskimo history, if such an expression is fitting for an arctic

people.

A village arranged on a similar plan, except that the houses were

joined together, was found to constitute the supposed remains of a

settlement on Eskimo Island in Lake Melville.

In both cases the front of the row is towards the east, and the houses

are dug down to sand on the inside, making their floors somewhat below

the level of the ground.

[Eskimos] A more thorough investigation than we were able to make of

the remains at Eskimo Island would undoubtedly yield much of interest

and value, for they were if anything even older than those at

Hopedale, probably having been abandoned after the battle between

Eskimo and Indians, fought on the same island, which has now become a

tradition among the people.

Five days were spent in this most interesting ethnological work, and

hard days they were, too, as well as interesting, for the mosquitoes,

black flies and midges were always with us; but on the other hand, the

Eskimo interpreter was continually describing some national custom

which some find would suggest to him, and very ingenious he proved to

be in naming finds which we were entirely ignorant of or unable to

identify.

The race as a whole is exceedingly ingenious, quick to learn, handy

with tools, and also ready at mastering musical instruments. One of

the best carpenters on the Labrador is an Eskimo at Aillik, from whom

we bought a kyak; and at Hopedale in the winter they have a very fair

brass band. The art of fine carving, however, seems to be dying out

among them, and now there is but one family, at Nain, who do anything

of the sort worthy the name of carving. Prof. Lee obtained several

very fine specimens for the Bowdoin cabinets, but as a rule it is very

high priced and rare. Most of it is taken to London by the Moravian

mission ship, and has found its way into English and Continental

museums. The figures of dogs, of Eskimos themselves, as well as of

kyaks and komatiks, seals, walrus, arctic birds and the like are most

exquisitely done.

The mission itself deserves a brief description. It was founded in

1782 and has been steadily maintained by the Moravian society for the

furtherance of the Gospel, and is now nearly self-supporting. There

are three missions of the society in Labrador, the one at Nain being

the chief and the residence of the director, but Hopedale is very

important as it is the place where the debasing influence of the

traders and fishermen is most felt by the Eskimo, and the work of the

missionaries consequently made least welcome to them. However, they

have persevered, in the German fashion, and seem to have a firm hold

on the childlike people which the seductions of the traders cannot

shake off.

There are five missionaries now stationed at Hopedale: Mr. Townly, an

Englishman, whose work is among the "planters" and fishermen; Mr.

Hansen, the pastor of the Eskimo church; and Mr. Kaestner, the head of

the mission, and in special charge of the store and trading, by which

the mission is made nearly self-supporting; Mrs. Kaestner and Mrs.

Hansen complete the number, and the five make up a community almost

entirely isolated from white people during nine months of every year.

The fact that the two ladies spoke very little English was somewhat of

a drawback, but detracted very slightly from our enjoyment of Mrs.

Hanson's delightful singing and none at all from our appreciation of

her playing on the piano and organ. To get such a musical treat in the

Labrador wilds was most unexpected and for that reason all the more

thoroughly enjoyed.

The mission house is a yellow, barn-like building, heavily built to

prevent its being blown away, snugly stowed beneath a hill, and

seeming like a mother round which the huts of the Eskimo cluster. The

rooms in which we were so pleasantly entertained were very comfortably

and tastily furnished, a grand piano in one of them seeming out of

place in a village of Labrador, but so entirely in harmony with its

immediate surroundings that we hardly thought of the strangeness of

it, within a few yards of a village of pure Eskimo, living in all

their primitive customs and in their own land.

A few rods behind the mission are the gardens, cut up into small

squares by strong board fences to prevent the soil from blowing away,

each with a tarpaulin near by to spread over it at night. In this

laborious way potatoes, cabbages and turnips are raised. In a large

hothouse the missionaries raise tomatoes, lettuce, and also flowers,

but for everything else, except fish, game and ice, they have to

depend on the yearly visit of the Moravian mission ship. She left for

Nain just the day before we reached Hopedale, and after unloading

supplies, etc., there, she proceeds north, collecting furs and fish

until loaded, and then goes to London.

About fifty Eskimos were measured and collections made of their

clothing, implements of war and chase and household utensils, which

are the best of our collections, for the World's Fair and the Bowdoin

museums.

After spending these five pleasant and profitable days at Hopedale,

and regretfully looking out by Cape Harrigan, to Nain, whose gardens

are the seventh wonder of Labrador, through which, reports say, one

can walk for two miles, and whose missionaries, warned of our coming,

were making ready to give us a warm reception; and near it Paul's

Island, on which was so much of interest to our party; all this we

thought of mournfully as our vessel's head was pointed southward and

we sped along, reluctant on this account, and yet eager to hear of the

success of our boldest undertaking, the Grand River exploration party.

At Aillik, where there is an abandoned Hudson Bay Co.'s post, we

measured a few more Eskimo, obtained a kyak, which a day or two later

nearly became a coffin to one of our party, and tried a trout stream

that proved the best we found in Labrador. In about an hour, three of

our party caught over eighty magnificent trout, and, naturally,

returned much elated.

The next day we poked the Julia's inquisitive nose into one or two

so-called but misnamed harbors that afforded very little shelter, and

had a threatening and deserted look which, although the characteristic

of the Labrador shore in general, has never been noticeable in the

harbors we have visited. Many of them are very small, and in some it

is necessary to lay quite close to the rocks, but yet we have had no

trouble from the extremely deep water that we were told we should have

to anchor in, nor yet from getting into harbors so small that it was

hard to get out of them.

[Tickles] As a matter of fact, experience has taught the fishermen to

use "tickles," as narrow passages are called, for harbors, that there

may always be a windward and a leeward entrance. In a few cases where

the harbor is too small to beat out of, and has no leeward entrance,

we have found heavy ring bolts fastened into proper places in the

cliffs, to which vessels can make their lines fast, and warp

themselves into weatherly position from which a course can be laid out

of the harbor.

Meanwhile we are again approaching the Ragged Islands, which we passed

just as we were beginning that memorable Sunday evening sail, about

fifteen miles from the place we so much dread, Webeck Harbor.

On them we found the only gravel bed we saw in Labrador, and yet their

name is due to the rough piled basaltic appearing rock, that proved on

close examination to be much weathered sienite and granite. The harbor

is an open place amidst a cluster of rocky islets, and we found it

literally packed with fishing vessels. Here an afternoon was spent

making pictures and examining the geology of these interesting

islands, and here the adventure of the kyak, before referred to, took

place.

Our fur trader thought he would take a paddle, but had not gone three

lengths before he found that he was more expert in dealing with Eskimo

furs than in handling Eskimo boats. He rolled over, was soon pulled

alongside, and clearing himself from the kyak climbed aboard, just as

our gallant mate, his rescuer, rolled out of his dory into the water

and took a swim on his own account. All hands were nearly exploded

with laughter as he rolled himself neatly into the dory again and

climbed aboard, remarking, "That's the way to climb into a dory

without capsizing her," as he ruefully shook himself. We wanted to ask

him if that was the only way to get out of a dory without turning her

over, but we forebore.

The next morning as we got clear of the harbor, a trim looking

schooner of our size was sighted just off Cape Harrigan, about ten

miles ahead. The breeze freshening we gradually overhauled her, and

finally, while beating into Holton harbor, one of the most dangerous

entrances on the coast, by the way, we passed her, and noticing her

neat rig and appearance guessed rightly we had beaten the

representatives of the Newfoundland law and the collector of her

revenues from this coast.

Mr. Burgess, who combines in one unassuming personage the tax and

customs collector, the magistrate and the commissioner of poor relief

from Labrador, afterward told us that the "Rose" had been on the coast

for thirteen years and had been outsailed for the first time. The next

morning we again beat her badly, in working up to Indian Harbor, and

only then would he acknowledge himself fairly beaten.

[Puffins and Auks] Saturday, the 22d of August, having yet three days

before we were due at Rigolette to meet our Grand River party, we made

memorable in the annals of the puffins and auks of the Heron Islands

by spending three or four hours there and taking aboard three hundred

and seventy-eight of them. Many more of them were killed but dropped

into inaccessible places or into the water and could not be saved.

The sound of the fusilade from over twenty gunners must have resembled

a small battle, but it did not drive the birds away, and as we left

they seemed thicker than ever. Not only was the air alive with them,

but as one walked along the cliffs they would dart swiftly out of

holes in the rocks or crevices, so the earth, too, seemed full of

them. It was great sport for a time, but soon seemed too much like

slaughter, and we would let the awkward puffins, with their foolish

eyes and Roman noses, come blundering along within a few feet of our

muzzles, and chose rather the graceful, swift motioned auks and

guillemots, whose rapid flight made them far more sportsmanlike game.

The next day, though Sunday, had to be spent in taking care of the

best specimens, and the game was not fully disposed of for several

days. Our bill of fare was correspondingly improved for a few days.

Three days were consumed in beating up to Rigolette. At Indian Harbor

we had heard rumors of the return of some party from Grand River on

account of injuries received by one of the men, but the description

applied best to the second party, and we decided it must refer to

Bryant or Kenaston. Near Turner's Cove we found more rumors, but

nothing definite enough to satisfy our growing anxiety, and at last,

unable to bear the suspense any longer, three of the party took a boat

and started to row the fifteen miles between us and Rigolette, while

the vessel waited for a change of tide and a breeze.

Alternate hope and fear lent strength to our arms as we drove the

light boat along, and soon we came in sight of the wharf. There we

saw a ragged looking individual, smoking a very short and black clay

pipe, with one arm in a sling, who seemed to recognize us, and waved

his hat vigorously with his well arm. Soon we recognized Young and

were pumping away at his well hand in our delight at finding his

injuries no worse, and that Cary and Cole were yet pushing on,

determined to accomplish their object.

Young's hand had been in a critical state; the slight injury first

received unconsciously, from exposure and lack of attention had caused

a swelling of his hand and arm that was both extremely painful and

dangerous, and which, the doctor said, would have caused the loss of

the thumb, or possibly of the whole hand, had it gone uncared for much

longer. Of course it was impossible to leave a man in such a

condition, or to send him back alone. So Smith very regretfully

volunteered to turn back--at a point where a few days more were

expected to give a sight of the Falls, and when all thought the

hardest work of the Grand River party had been accomplished--and

accompany Young back to Rigolette.

It was a great sacrifice of Smith's personal desires, to be one of the

re-discoverers of the falls, to the interests of the expedition, and

it involved a great deal of hard work, for, after paddling and rowing

all day, he had to build and break camp every night and morning, as

Young's hand grew steadily worse and was all he could attend to. At

the mouth of the river, which was reached in shorter time than was

expected, and without accident, Young obtained some relief from

applications of spruce gum to his hand by Joe Michelini, a trapper and

hunter, famous for his skill in all Labrador. Northwest River was

reached the following day, and after a few days of rest for Smith,

during which time Young's injury began to mend also under the

influences of rest and shelter, they hired a small schooner boat to

take them to Rigolette. On the passage they were struck by a squall in

the night, nearly swamped, and compelled to cut the Rushton boat

adrift in order to save themselves. The next day they searched the

leeward shore of the lake in vain, and had to go on without her,

arriving at Rigolette without further accident, and had been there

about a week when we arrived. The boat was picked up later in a badly

damaged condition, and given to the finder.

While Young outlined his experience we hunted up Smith, who had been

making himself useful as a clerk to the factor at the Post, Mr. Bell,

and all went on board the Julia as soon as she arrived, to report and

relieve in a measure the anxiety of the professor and the boys.

[Anxious waiting] The day appointed for meeting the river party was

the day on which we reached Rigolette, August 25th, and so a sharp

lookout was kept for the two remaining members of the party, on whom,

now, the failure or success of that part of the expedition rested. As

they did not appear, we moved up to a cove near Eskimo Island, at the

eastern end of Lake Melville, the following day, and there spent four

days of anxious waiting. Some dredging and geological work was done,

and an attempt was made to examine more carefully the remains of the

Eskimo village before referred to on Eskimo Island, which some

investigators had thought the remains of a Norse settlement. The turf

was too tough to break through without a plow, and we had to give it

up, doing just enough to satisfy ourselves that the remains were

purely Eskimo.

All the work attempted was done in a half-hearted manner, for our

thoughts were with Cary and Cole, and as the days went by and they did

not appear, but were more and more overdue, our suspense became almost

unbearable. Added to this was the thought that we could wait but a few

days more at the longest, without running the danger of being

imprisoned all winter, and for that we were poorly prepared.

The first day of September we moved back to Rigolette to get supplies

and make preparations for our voyage home, as it was positively unsafe

to remain any longer. The Gulf of St. Lawrence is an ugly place to

cross at any time in September, for in that month the chances are

rather against a small vessel's getting across safely.

It was decided that the expedition must start home on Wednesday, the

2nd, and that a relief party should be left for Cary and Cole. With

heavy hearts the final preparations were made, and many were the looks

cast at the narrows where they would be seen, were they to heave in

sight.

At last, about 3.30 p.m. Tuesday, the lookout yelled, "Sail ho! in the

narrows," and we all jumped for the rigging. They had come, almost at

the last hour of our waiting, and with a feeling of relief such as we

shall seldom again experience we welcomed them aboard and heard their

story.

* * * * *

ON BOARD THE JULIA A. DECKER,

GUT OF CANSO.

Bowdoin pluck has overcome Bowdoin luck, and though they literally had

to pass through fire and water, the Bowdoin men, from the Bowdoin

College Scientific Expedition to Labrador have done what Oxford failed

to do, and what was declared well nigh impossible by those best

acquainted with the circumstances and presumably best judges of the

matter. Austin Cary and Dennis Cole, Bowdoin '87 and '88,

respectively, have proven themselves worthy to be ranked as explorers,

and have demonstrated anew that energy and endurance are not wanting

in college graduates of this generation.

A trip up a large and swift river, totally unknown to maps in its

upper portions, for three hundred miles, equal to the distance from

Brunswick, Me., to New York City, in open fifteen feet boats, is of

itself an achievement worthy of remark. But when to this is added the

discovery of Bowdoin Canon, one of the most remarkable features of

North America, the settlement of the mystery of the Grand Falls, and

the bringing to light of a navigable waterway extending for an

unbroken ninety miles, and three hundred miles in the interior of an

hitherto unknown country, something more than remark is merited.

July 26th the schooner hove to about four miles from the mouth of the

Grand River, the shoals rendering a nearer approach dangerous, and the

boats of the river detachment were sent over the side, taken in tow by

the yawl, and the start made on what proved the most eventful part of

the Labrador expedition. Cheers and good wishes followed the three

boats till out of hearing, and then the Julia gathered way and headed

for North West River, while the party in the yawl with the two

Rushtons in tow put forth their best efforts to reach the mouth of

the river and a lee before the approaching squall should strike them.

The squall came first, and as it blew heavily directly out of the

river, we could simply lay to and wait for it to blow over. Then a

calm followed and by the time the next squall struck we were in a

comparative lee. After the heaviest of it had passed, the Grand River

boys clambered into their boats and with a hearty "good by" pulled

away for the opening close at hand. The yawl meantime had grounded on

one of the shoals, but pushing off and carefully dodging the boulders

that dot those shallow waters, she squared away for North West River,

following around the shore, and with the aid of a fresh breeze reached

the schooner shortly after 10 o'clock P.M.

[Grand River] The river party was made up of Austin Cary in charge,

and W.R. Smith, '90, occupying one boat, and Dennis Cole and E.B.

Young, '92, with the other, all strong, rugged fellows, more or less

acquainted with boating in rapid water, and well equipped for all

emergencies. Their outfit included provisions for five weeks, flour,

meal, buckwheat flour, rice, coffee, tea, sugar, beef extract, tins of

pea soup, beef tongue, and preserves. They were provided with

revolvers, a shot gun and a rifle, and sufficient ammunition,

intending to eke out the stores with whatever game came in their way,

although the amount of time given them would not allow much hunting.

All the supplies, including the surveying, measuring and

meteorological instruments, were either in tins or in water-tight

wrappings, while the bedding and clothing were protected by rubber

blankets. The boats, made by Rushton, the Adirondack boat-builder,

were of cedar, fifteen feet long, five feet wide, double-ended, and

weighed eighty pounds apiece. A short deck at each end of the boats

covered copper air-tanks, which made life-boats of them and added much

to their safety. Each boat was equipped with a pair of oars, a paddle

and about one hundred feet of small line for tracking purposes.

Proceeding about three miles the first camp was made on the south

shore of Goose Bay, amid an abundance of mosquitoes. The next day

twenty-five miles were made through shoals that nearly close the

river's mouth, leaving but one good channel through which the water

flows very swiftly, by the house of Joe Michelin, the trapper, at

which six weeks later two very gaunt and much used up men were most

hospitably received. Here another night was spent almost without

sleep, owing to the mosquitoes.

Tuesday a large Indian camp was passed, the big "pool," at the foot of

the first falls and some three miles long, rowed across, and at noon

the carry was begun. It was necessary to make seventeen trips and four

and one half hours were used in the task. When the last load had been

deposited at the upper end of the carry, the men threw themselves down

on the bank utterly weary, and owing to the loss of sleep the two

previous nights, were soon all sound asleep. In consequence camp was

made here, and the first comfortable night of the trip passed.

Including the carry eight miles was the day's advance.

The twenty-five miles of the next day were made rowing and tracking up

the Porcupine rapids through a series of small lakes, one with a

little island in the centre deceiving our boys for awhile into

thinking they had reached Gull Island Lake, and then up another short

rapid at the head of which the party encamped.

Sixteen miles were made next day by alternate rowing and tracking, the

foot of Gull Island Lake was reached, and after dinner it was crossed

in one and a half hours. Then the heaviest work of the trip thus far

was struck and camp was made, about half way up Gull Lake rapid.

Supper was made off a goose shot the previous day. It was necessary to

double the crews in getting up the latter part of Gull Island rapids,

and finally a short carry was made just at noon to get clear of them.

From the fact that the light, beautifully modelled boats required four

men to take them up the rapids we may get some idea of the swiftness

of the river as well as the difficulties attending the mode of

travelling. As the river in its swiftest parts is never less than half

a mile wide, and averages a mile, it can readily be seen that it is a

grand waterway, well deserving its name.

Nine miles were made this day and camp was reached at the beginning of

rough water on the Horse Shoe Rapid. Here the first evidence of shoes

giving out was seen. Constant use over rough rocks while wet proved

too much for even the strongest shoes, and when Cary and Cole returned

there was not leather enough between them to make one decent shoe.

Rain made the night uncomfortable, as the light shelter tent let the

water through very easily and was then of little use. At other times

the tents were very comfortable. Upon arriving at the spot selected

two men would at once set about preparing the brush for beds, pitching

the tent, etc., while the other provided wood for the camp and for the

cook, in which capacity Cary officiated. I cannot do better than use

Cary's own words in reference to his "humble but essential

ministrations." "Camp cooking at best is rather a wearing process, but

the agonies of a man whose hands are tangled up in dough and whom the

flies becloud, competing for standing room on every exposed portion of

his body, can be imagined only by the experienced."

The party believed that a good night's rest was indispensible where

the day was filled with the hardest kind of labor, and spared no pains

to secure them. Even on the return Cary and Cole, when half starved,

stuck to their practice of making comfortable camps, and it is

probable that the wonderful way they held out under their privations

was largely due to this. While many in their predicament would have

thrown away their blankets, they kept them, and on every cold and

stormy night congratulated themselves that they had done so.

[Loss of boat] On Saturday, Aug. 1st, the first accident happened.

Tracking on the Horse Shoe Rapids was extremely difficult and

dangerous. Shortly after dinner a carry was made, taking three and a

half hours to track out a path up and along a terrace about fifty feet

high. Shortly after this the boat used by Cary and Smith capsized,

emptying its load into the river. The party were "tracking" at the

time, Cole being nearly the length of the tow line ahead, tugging on

it, while Cary was doing his best to keep the boat off the rocks. At

the margin of the swift unbroken current there were strong eddies, and

in hauling the boat around a bend her bow was pushed into one, her

slight keel momentarily preventing her from heading up stream again,

and the rush of the water bore her under. At the same time Cary was

carried from his footing and just managed to grasp the line as he came

up and escape being borne down the stream. When things were collected

and an inventory taken of the loss, it was found to include about

one-fourth of the provisions, the barometer and chronometer rendered

useless and practically lost, measuring chain, cooking utensils,

rifles with much of the ammunition, axe and small stores, such as

salt, sugar, coffee, etc. The loss was a severe one, and arose from

failure to fasten the stores into the boats before starting, as had

been ordered. The time given the party for the trip was so short, the

distance so uncertain, and the things they desired to have an

opportunity to do on the return that would require comparative leisure

were so many, that they begrudged the few minutes necessary to

properly lash the loads into the boats, each time they broke camp; and

delay and disaster were the results. As the day was nearly spent, camp

was made but about a mile from the last, and time used in repairing

damages. A very ingenious baker for bread was contrived by Cole from

an empty flour tin, a new paddle made to replace the one lost, and a

redistribution of the baggage remaining effected.

In the following five days sixty-six miles were made with a few short

carries, some rowing and a good deal of hard tracking. Having passed

the Mininipi river and rapids, the latter being the worst on the

river, the bank furnishing almost no foothold for tracking the Mauni

rapids were reached and finally at 5 P.M., Aug. 6th, the party emerged

into Lake Waminikapo. As Cary's journal puts it, here the party "first

indulged in hilarity." The hardest part of the work was over and had

been done in much less time than had been expected. According to all

accounts the falls should be found only thirty miles beyond the head

of the lake, which is forty miles long and good rowing water, and

about three weeks time yet remained before they were due at Rigolette.

Added to this a perfect summer afternoon, comparatively smooth water,

running around the base of a magnificent cliff and opening out through

a gorge with precipitous sides, showing a beautiful vista of lake and

mountain, with the knowledge of rapids behind and the object of the

trip but a short way ahead and easy travelling most of that way, and

we may readily understand why these tired and travel worn voyagers

felt hilarious. Cary says of the scene: "As we gradually worked out of

the swift water the terraces of sand and stones were seen to give way

and the ridges beyond to approach one another and to erect themselves,

until at the lake's mouth we entered a grand portal between cliffs on

either hand towering for hundreds of feet straight into the air. And

looking beyond and between the reaches of the lake was seen a ribbon

of water lying between steep sided ridges, over the face of which, as

we pulled along, mountain streams came pouring."

One day was used in making the length of the lake, and at the camp at

its head Young and Smith turned back. A very badly swelled hand and

arm caused by jamming his thumb had prevented Young from getting any

sleep and threatened speedily to become worse. This in connection with

the loss of provisions in the upset made it expedient to send the two

men back. The returning party was given the best boat, the best of the

outfit and provisions for six days, in which time they could easily

reach the mouth of the river. Meantime Cary and Cole pushed on into

what was to prove the most eventful part of their journey.

The lake is simply the river valley with the terraces cleaned out, and

was probably made when the river was much higher, at a time not far

removed from the glacial period. The head of the lake is full of sand

bars and shoals, much resembling the mouth of the river as it opens

out into Goose bay. On both sides of the lake mountains rise steeply

for one thousand or twelve hundred feet. Its average width is from two

to three miles and it has three long bends or curves. Only one deep

valley breaks the precipitous sides, but many streams flow in over the

ridge, making beautiful waterfalls.

The river as it enters the lake is about half a mile wide, but soon

increases to a mile. Twenty miles were made by the advance the day the

parties separated, and at night, almost at the place where the falls

were reported, nothing but smooth water could be seen for a long

stretch ahead. Sunday, the 9th, twenty-five miles were made the good

rowing continuing, by burnt lands, and banks over which many cascades

tumbled. Monday, the last day's advance in the boats was made, the

water becoming too swift to be stemmed, This day Cary got the second

ducking of the trip--a very good record in view of the roughness of

the work and the smallness of the boats. During this and the day

previous an otter, a crow and a robin were seen. As a rule the river

was almost entirely deserted by animal life.

[Mount Hyde] The next day the boat and the provisions, excepting a six

days supply carried in the packs, were carefully cached, and at 10:45

camp was left and the memorable tramp begun. Each man carried about

twenty-five pounds. The stream was followed a short distance, then the

abrupt ascent to the plateau climbed, old river beaches being found

all the way up. Ascending a birch knoll, the river was in view for

quite a long distance and a large branch seen making in from the west.

To the north the highest mountain, in fact the only peak in the

vicinity, was seen towering up above the level plateau. Towards this

peak, christened Mt. Hyde, the party tramped, and arriving at the top

saw the country around spread out like a map. Way off towards the

northwest a large lake was seen from which Grand River probably flows,

and nearer was a chain of small, shallow and rocky ponds. The country

is rocky, covered with deep moss and fairly well wooded, with little

underbrush. The wood is all spruce save in the river valleys where

considerable birch is mixed in. The black flies were present in

clouds, even in the strong wind blowing at the top of Mt. Hyde, and

made halt for rest or any stop whatever intolerable. Leaving the

mountain, after taking bearings of all the points to be seen, the

party struck for the river and camped on the bank between the two

branches coming in from the westward, several miles apart. The

following day, with faces much swollen from fly bites of the day

before, the line of march was along the banks till 2 P.M. when the

upper fork was reached.

The course of the river is southeast. This branch course is from the

northwest. The main stream turns off sharply to the northeast and

after a few miles passes into a deep canon, christened "Bowdoin

Canon," between precipitous walls of archeac rock from six hundred to

eight hundred feet high. This canon was afterward found to be about

twenty-five miles long and winding in its course. In but few places is

the slope such as to permit a descent to the river bank proper, and

the canon is so narrow, and the walls of such perpendicular character,

as to make the river invisible from a short distance. It might truly

be said that the discovery of this canon, infinitely grander on

account of its age than any other known to geology, and surpassed by

few in size, is the most important result of the expedition. Several

photographs of it were made, which were not injured by the exposure to

wet and rough usage that the camera had to receive during the return

journey, and alone convey an adequate idea of this most wonderful of

nature's wonders.

At night the first camp away from the river was made, on the plateau.

The two men felt that the next day must be their last of advance, so

weakened were they by the terrible tramping over deep moss and the

persistent bleeding by black flies. The stock of provisions, too, was

running low, and with their diminishing strength was a warning to turn

back that could not be neglected. A half dozen grouse, three Canada

and three rough, had been added to their supplies, but even with full

meals they could not long stand the double drain upon their strength.

In the morning a high hill was seen, for which they started, drawing

slightly away from the river. Soon a roar from the direction of the

river was noticed, which differed from the ordinary roar of the

rapids. Altering their course it was found the roar "kept away,"

indicating an unusually heavy sound. Pushing forward, thinking it must

be the desired falls, they soon came out upon the river bank, with the

water at their level. This proved the falls to be below them, and

looking down they could be seen "smoking" about a mile distant. A

distinct pounding had also been felt for some time previous, which

further assured them that the falls were at hand. The roar that had

attracted their attention was of the river running at the plateau

level. At the point they came out upon it, it was nearly two hundred

yards wide, a heavy boiling rapid. Walking down the great blocks of

rock which form the shore, the river appeared to narrow and at 11.45

A.M., the Grand Falls were first seen.

[The marked Bowdoin Spruce] After making pictures of the Falls a

feeling of reaction manifested itself in Cary's physical condition,

and he remarked, "I do not wish to go farther, I need sleep." Cole, as

assistant, had avoided the wear and anxiety of leadership. His

athletic work at Bowdoin, in throwing the shot and hammer and running

on the Topsham track, had given him stored energy of arm and leg. This

reserve strength prompted him to press forward and see more of a

region new to human eyes. Leaving his hatchet with Cary, now rolled up

in his blanket, with the hope and expectation that on waking he would

use the same in preparing fuel and cooking supper, Cole pressed

forward into the strange and unknown country three or four miles, and

then, for a final view of the location, climbed the highest tree he

could find and from its top surveyed the waste of land and river. He

stood thus exalted near the center of the vast peninsula of Labrador.

Four hundred and fifty miles to the east lay the wide expanse of

Hamilton Inlet. Four hundred and fifty miles to the north lay Cape

Chudleigh, towards which he could imagine the Julia A. Decker, vainly

as it proved, pointing her figure head through fog and ice. Only six

hundred miles due south the granite chapel of Bowdoin College points

heavenward both its uplifted hands. Four hundred and fifty miles to

the west rolled the waves of that great inland ocean, Hudson's Bay,

into whose depths, Henry Hudson, after his penetrations to northern

waters above Spitzbergen, after his pushing along the eastern coast of

Greenland, after his magnificent and successful exploration of the

American coast from Maine to Virginia, penetrating Delaware bay and

river and sailing up that river crowned by the Palisades and the

hights of the Catskills, honored with his name and whose waters bear

the largest portion of the commercial wealth of our own country; still

fascinated by the vision of a northwest passage that intrepid explorer

penetrated into the waters of the unknown sea whose waves unseen dash

along the coasts of Labrador from its westward to its northern shores

and Cape Chudleigh. All these explorations he accomplished in a

sailing vessel about the size of the Julia A. Decker, the ship

"Discoverie" of seventy tons. He had wintered at the southern

extremity of Hudson's Bay surrounded by a mutinous crew. In the

hardships and suffering of the next season, after he had divided his

last bread with his men, in the summer of 1611, while near the western

coast of Labrador, half way back to the Straits, by an ungrateful crew

he was thrust into a sail boat with his son John and five sailors sick

and blind with scurvy, and was left to perish in the great waste of

waters, which, bearing his name, is "his tomb and his monument." Cole,

with his mind and imagination filled with these facts, involuntarily

took his knife and carved his name and the expedition on the upper

part of the tree which formed his outlook. It might be his monument as

the Inland Sea was that of Hudson. Then to have the tree marked and

observable to other eyes, in case other eyes should see that country,

he commenced to cut the branches from near the top of the tall spruce.

He regretted much the leaving of the hatchet with Cary as he was

obliged to do the work with his knife. It was a slow and laborious

job. His imagination, as it roamed over the wide land, and his

interest in his present efforts, had consumed time faster than he

knew, and the slanting rays of the western sun started him with

thoughts of Cary and supper. It was dark when he reached Cary and he

was still asleep. The hatchet was idle, and he wished more than ever

that his efforts on the branches of the marked Bowdoin Spruce had been

rendered less laborious and more expeditious by the aid of this, to be

hereafter his constant companion and source of safety along with

another and more diminutive friend, a pocket pistol.

[Grand Falls] The falls proper are three hundred and sixteen feet

high, and just above the river narrows from two hundred and fifty to

fifty yards, the water shooting over a somewhat gradual downward

course and then plunging straight down with terrific force the

distance mentioned, and with an immense volume. The river is much

higher at times and the fall must be even grander, for while the party

was there the ground quaked with the shock of the descending stream,

and the river was nearly at its lowest point. At the bottom is a large

pool made by the change of direction of the river from south at and

above the falls to nearly east below. The canon begins at the pool and

extends as has been described, with many turns and windings, for

twenty-five miles through archaic rock. Above the falls in the wide

rapids, the bed was of the same rock, which seems to underlie the

whole plateau. In 1839, the falls were first seen by a white man, John

McLean, an officer of the Hudson Day Co., while on an exploring

expedition in that "great and terrible wilderness" known as Labrador.

His description is very general, but he was greatly impressed with the

stupendous height of the falls, and terms it one of the grandest

spectacles of the world. Twenty years later, one Kennedy, also an

employe of the Hudson Bay Co., persuaded an Iroquois Indian, who did

not share the superstitious dread of them common among the Labrador

Indians, to guide him to the thundering fall and misty chasm. He left

no account of his visit, however, and in fact, though one other man

reached them, and Mr. Holmes, an Englishman, made the attempt and

failed, no full account of the falls has been given to the world,

until Cary and Cole made their report. Above the falls as far as could

be seen, all was white water, indicating a fall of about one hundred

foot per mile. In the course of twenty-five or thirty miles there is a

descent of twelve hundred feet, nearly equal to the altitude of the

"Height of Land," as the interior plateau of Labrador is called, which

has probably been previously overestimated. The next forenoon was

spent in surveying and making what measurements could be made in the

absence of the instruments lost in the upset. At noon, after having

spent just twenty-four hours at Grand Falls, the party turned back.

The very fact of having succeeded, made distance shorter and fatigue

more easily borne, so they travelled along at a rattling pace,

surveying at times and little thinking of the disaster that had

befallen them. Camp was made on the river bank, beneath one of the

terraces which lined both sides.

Saturday Aug. 15th, the march back to the boat cache was resumed.

Towards night, as they approached the place, smoke was seen rising

from the ground, and fearing evil, the men broke into a run during the

last two miles. As Cary's journal puts it: "We arrived at our camp to

find boat and stores burnt and the fire still smoking and spreading.

Cole arrives first, and as I come thrashing through the bushes he sits

on a rock munching some burnt flour. He announces with an unsteady

voice: 'Well, she's gone.' We say not much, nothing that indicates

poor courage, but go about to find what we can in the wreck, and pack

up for a tramp down river. In an hour we have picked out everything

useful, including my money, nails, thread and damaged provisions, and

are on the way down river hoping to pass the rapids before dark,

starting at 5."

Their position was certainly disheartening. They were one hundred and

fifty miles from their nearest cache, and nearly three hundred from

the nearest settlement, already greatly used up, needing rest and

plenty of food; in a country that forbade any extended tramping inland

to cut off corners, on a river in most places either too rough for a

raft or with too sluggish a current to make rafting pay; and above

all, left with a stock of food comprising one quart of good rice,

brought back with them, three quarts of mixed meal, burnt flour and

burnt rice, a little tea, one can of badly dried tongue, and one can

of baked beans that were really improved by the fire. Add to this some

three dozen matches and twenty-five cartridges, blankets and what

things they had on the tramp to the falls, and the list of their

outfit, with which to cover the three hundred miles, is complete.

There was no time to be wasted, and that same night six miles were

made before camping. The next day the battle for life began. It was

decided that any game or other supplies found on the way should be

used liberally, while those with which they started were husbanded.

This day several trout were caught, line and hooks being part of each

man's outfit, and two square meals enjoyed, which proved the last for

a week. A raft was made that would not float the men and baggage, and

being somewhat discouraged on the subject of rafting by the failure,

another was not then attempted, and the men continued tramping.

Following the river, they found its general course between the rapids

and Lake Wanimikapo, S.S.E. During part of that day and all the next,

they followed in the track of a large panther, but did not get in

sight of him. Acting on the principle that they should save their

strength as much as possible, camps were gone into fairly early and

were well made; and this night, in spite of the desperate straits they

were in, both men enjoyed a most delightful sleep.

[Squirrel and Cranberries] After this some time every morning was

usually occupied in mending shoes. All sorts of devices were resorted

to to get the last bit of wear out of them, even to shifting from

right to left, but finally Cole had to make a pair of the nondescripts

from the leather lining of his pack, which lasted him to the vessel.

Cranberries were found during the day and at intervals during the

tramp, and were always drawn upon for a meal. About two quarts were

added to the stock of provision, and many a supper was made off a red

squirrel and a pint of stewed cranberries.

Wednesday, the 19th, another raft was made, which took the party into

the lake. This was more comfortable than tracking, yet they were in

the water for several hours while on the raft, which was made by

lashing two cross-pieces about four feet long on the ends of five or

six logs laid beside each other and from twenty to thirty feet long,

all fastened with roots, and having a small pile of brush to keep the

baggage dry. The still water of the lake made the raft useless, even

in a fresh, fair breeze, and so this one was abandoned two miles down,

and the weary tramping again resumed. Fortunately the water was so low

that advantage could be taken of the closely overgrown shore by

walking on the lake bed, and far better progress was made owing to the

firmer footing. Three days were used in getting down the lake, during

which time but one fish, a pickerel, was caught, where they had

expected to find an abundance.

At the foot of the lake, tracks were seen, which it was thought might

be those of hunters. It was learned later that they were more

probably tracks of Bryant's and Kenaston's party, who were following

them up and probably had been passed on the opposite side of the lake,

unnoticed in the heavy rain of the preceeding day. Some bits of meat

that had been thrown away were picked up and helped to fill the gap,

now becoming quite long, between square meals. Supper on this day is

noted in Cary's journal because they "feasted on three squirrels."

Having gotten out of the lake into rapid water, trout was once more

caught, and as on the following day, Sunday, the 23d, a bear's heart,

liver, etc., was found, and later several fish caught. The starvation

period was over.

In the afternoon another raft was built and the next day carried them

five miles down to the last cache. Though so terribly used up that the

odd jobs connected with making and breaking camp dragged fearfully,

and each day's advance had to be made by pure force of will, the men

felt that the worst was over and their final getting out of the woods

was a matter of time merely. At this cache, also, a note from Young

and Smith was found announcing their passage to that point all right

and in less time than expected, so they had drawn no supplies from the

stock there.

Tuesday, the 25th.--The day, by the way, that the Julia Decker and

party arrived at Rigolette according to plans, expecting to find the

whole Grand River party, and instead found only Young and Smith, who

had been waiting there about a week. Rafting was continued in a heavy

rain down to the Mininipi Rapids over which the raft was nearly

carried against the will of the occupants. At the foot of these rapids

a thirty mile tramp was begun, the raft that had carried them so well

for forty-five miles being abandoned, which took them past the Horse

Shoe and Gull Island Rapids and occupied most of the two following

days. The tracking was fair, and as starvation was over pretty good

time was made.

Thursday, the 27th.--A raft was made early in the morning that took

them by the Porcupine Rapids and landed them safely, though well

soaked, at the head of the first falls. Camp was made that night at

the first cache below the falls, forty miles having been covered

during the day.

[The last pistol shot] Friday, they fully expected to reach Joe

Michelin's house and get the relief that was sadly needed, but as the

necessity for keeping up became less imperative, their weakness began

to tell on them more. Cary's shoes became so bad that going barefoot

was preferable, except over the sharpest rocks, and Cole's feet had

become so sore that as a last resort his coat sleeves were cut off and

served as a cross between stockings and boots. They were doomed to

disappointment, however, and compelled to camp at nightfall with four

or five miles bad travelling and the wide river between them and the

house. Fires were made in hopes of attracting the trapper's attention

and inducing him to cross the river in his boat, but as they learned

the next day, though they were seen, the dark rainy night prevented

his going over to find out what they meant. The last shot cartridge

was used that night on a partridge, and the red squirrels went

unmolested thereafter. This last shot deserves more than a passing

notice. In one sense these shot cartridges for Cole's pistol were

their salvation. Just before the expedition started from Rockland it

was remarked in conversation that the boat crew under DeLong, in the

ill-fated expedition of the "Jeanette", met their death by starvation

in the delta of the Lena, with the exception of two, Naros and

Nindermann, simply because their hunter, Naros, had only a rifle with

ball cartridges, the shot guns having been left on board the

"Jeanette;" that on the delta there was quite an abundance of small

birds which it was almost impossible to kill by a bullet and even when

killed by a lucky shot, little was left of the bird. Cole was

impressed by these facts and upon inquiring ascertained that the

pistol shot cartridges ordered by the expedition had been overlooked.

He energetically set about supplying the lack, and after persistent

search, almost at the last hour, succeeded in finding a small stock in

the city, which he bought out. To the remnant of this stock which

escaped the fire at Burnt Cache camp, as has been said, is the escape

of Cary and Cole from starvation largely due.

The value of these cartridges had day by day, on the weary return from

Grand Falls, become more and more apparent to the owner. At the

discharge of the last one, the partridge fell not to the ground, but

flew to another and remote cluster of spruces. To this thicket Cole

hastened and stood watching to discover his bird. Cary came up and

after waiting a little while, said, "It is no use to delay longer,

time is too precious." The value of this last cartridge forced Cole to

linger. He was reluctant to admit it was wasted. In a few minutes he

heard something fall to the ground, he knew not what it was, but with

eager steps pressed towards the place, and when near it a slight

flutter and rustling of wings led him to discover the partridge,

uninjured except that one leg was broken; that by faintness or

inability to hold its perch with one foot it had fallen to the ground.

The darkness and rain of that night then closing around them were

rendered less dark and disagreeable by the assurance that kind

Providence showed its hand when the help of an unseen power was needed

to deliver them from the perils of the unknown river. It rained hard

all the next forenoon, and as the river was rough, the men stayed in

camp, hoping Joe would come across, until noon, when a start was made

for the house. A crazy raft took them across the river, the waves at

times nearly washing over them, and landing on the other side, they

started on the last tramp of the trip, which the rain and thick

underbrush, together with their weakened condition, made the worst of

the trip. About 3 P.M., they struck a path, and in a few minutes were

once more under a roof and their perilous journey was practically

done.

Seventeen days had been used in making the three hundred miles, all

but about seventy-five of which were covered afoot. When they came in,

besides the blankets, cooking tins and instruments, nothing remained

of the outfit with which they started on the return except three

matches and one ball cartridge for the revolver, which, in Cole's

hands, had proved their main stay from absolute starvation. The

following day, Sunday, after having had a night's rest in dry clothes

and two civilized meals, Joe took them to Northwest River, where Mr.

McLaren, the factor of the Hudson Bay Company's posts showed them

every kindness till a boat was procured to take them to Rigolette. A

storm and rain, catching them on a lee shore and giving the already

exhausted men one more tussle with fortune to get their small vessel

into a position of safety, made a fitting end to their experiences.

[On board the Julia A. Decker] Tuesday at 4 P.M., they reached the

schooner and their journey was done. Amid the banging of guns and

rifles, yells of delight and echoes of B-O-W-D-O-I-N flying over the

hills, they clambered over the rail from the boat that had been sent

to meet them and nearly had their arms wrung off in congratulations

upon their success, about which the very first questions had been

asked as soon as they came within hearing. They were nearly deafened

with exclamations that their appearance called out, and by the

questions that were showered on them. At last some order was restored,

and after pictures had been made of them just as they came aboard,

dressed in sealskin tassock, sealskin and deerskin boots and

moccasins, with which they had provided themselves at Northwest River,

ragged remnants of trousers and shirts, and the barest apologies for

hats, they were given an opportunity to make themselves comfortable

and eat supper, and then the professor took them into the cabin to

give an account of themselves. It was many days before their haggard

appearance, with sunken eyes and dark rings beneath them, and their

extreme weakness disappeared.

The return trip of Young and Smith from Lake Waminikapo, who reached

Rigolette Aug. 18th, was made in five days to Northwest River, and

after resting two days, in two more to Rigolette. Their trip was

comparatively uneventful. At the foot of Gull Island Lake they met

Bryant and Kenaston, who with their party of Indians were proceeding

very leisurely and apparently doing very little work themselves. At

their rate of progress it seemed to our party very doubtful if they

ever reached the falls. They had picked up, in the pool at the foot of

the first falls, one of the cans of flour lost in the upset, some

fifty or sixty miles up the river, with its contents all right, and

strange to say not a dent in it, and returned it to Smith and Young

when they met them. That night, with the assistance of the officers

and passengers of the mail steamer, which lay alongside of us, a

jollification was held. Our return race to Battle Harbor, the last

concert of the Glee Club in Labrador waters, the exciting race over

the gulf with the little Halifax trader, the tussle with the elements

getting into Canso, the sensation of a return to civilization and

hearty reception at Halifax, and greeting at Rockland, must remain for

another letter.

* * * * *

ON BOARD THE JULIA A. DECKER,

ROCKLAND HARBOR, ME.,

September 23, 1891.

The staunch little schooner has once more picked a safe path through

the dangers of fog, rocks and passing vessels, and her party are

safely landed at the home port, before quite two weeks of the college

term and two weeks of making up had piled up against its members.

The crew that weighed anchor at Rigolette on the morning of September

2nd, when the wind came and the tide had turned, was a happy one, for

from Professor to "cookee" we all felt that we were truly homeward

bound, and that we had accomplished our undertaking without any cause

for lasting regret. The mail steamer, whose passengers had joined in

the jollification of the night preceding, being independent of the

wind, had started ahead of us. Another race was on with the "Curlew,"

this time a merely friendly contest, without the former anxiety as to

some other party's getting the lead of ours in the trip up the Grand

River. But the result was not different this time. A fine breeze kept

us going all day and the following night. But the next day the fog

came. It was no different from the cold, damp, land-mark obscuring

mist of the Maine coast in its facility in hiding from view everything

we most wanted to see in order to safely find the harbor that we knew

must be near at hand, though we could not tell just where. A headland,

looming up to twice its real height in the fog about it, was rounded,

and the lead followed in the hope that it would take us to the desired

haven. Soon a fishing boat hailed, and a voice, quickly followed by a

man, emerged from the fog and shouted that if we went farther on that

course we would be among the shoals. We were told we had passed the

mouth of the harbor, and so turning back, tried to follow our guide,

but he soon disappeared. Just at this moment when it seemed

impossible for us to find any opening, the fog lifted and we saw a

schooner's sail over one of the small islets that lay about us. Taking

our cue from that we poked into the next narrow channel we came to,

and getting some sailing directions from a passing boat, and from the

signal man stationed on a bluff to give assistance to strangers, we

glided into an almost circular basin, hardly large enough for the

vessel to swing in, set among steep rising sides, into which many ring

bolts were seen to be fastened, and perfectly sheltered from every

wind. The use for the ring bolts we found later. The fog kept rolling

over, and the little fishing vessels kept shooting in, till it seemed

the harbor would not hold another. As all sail had to be hauled down

before the vessels came in sight of the interior, the vessels seemed

literally to scoot into the basin. A few of the vessels were anchored

and kept from swinging by lines to the bolts, and the rest of the

fleet made fast to them. In all the number of vessels crowded into the

space where we hardly thought we could lie was about twenty. How they

would ever get out seemed a puzzle, but the next morning it was

accomplished, with a light fair wind, by all at once without accident

or delay. Had the wind been ahead, the ring bolts would have aided in

warping to a weatherly position.

During the evening the mail steamer caught us, and after putting a

little freight ashore, left us behind again. Here were some strange

epitaphs painted on the wooden slabs, also people ready to exchange or

sell at a far higher rate than we had hitherto paid, anything they

possessed for the cash which was all we had left to bargain with, the

available old clothes having been already disposed of.

It was hard to disabuse the minds of the people at Square Island

Harbor of the idea that we had come to seek gold or other valuable

mines, the reason being that several years before a party from the

States had spent considerable time prospecting in that vicinity and

partly opened one or two worthless mica quarries.

[A Bold Skipper] It was a glorious sight to see the fleet get under

way the next morning. Many a close shave and more bumps but no serious

collisions were caused by the twenty or more vessels crowding out

together through the narrow opening, each eager to get the first puff

from the fair breeze outside the lee of the cliffs. The whole fleet

was bound up the coast, but before many of the schooners had drifted

far enough out to catch the breeze it had failed, and only after an

hour or more of annoying experience with puffs from every quarter, did

the strong sea breeze set in. Sheets were trimmed flat aft, and all

settled down to beating up the coast. The Julia soon left the mass of

the fleet and before reaching Battle Harbor, where a long desired mail

was awaiting, had nearly overtaken the lucky ones who had drifted far

enough off shore to make a leading wind of the afternoon breeze.

During the calm a school of whales disported themselves in the midst

of the fleet, chasing one another, blowing and churning the water to

foam about us, apparently as though it was rare fun.

Late in the afternoon we approached the entrance to Battle Harbor, but

with the wind blowing directly out of the narrow, rocky and winding

entrance we wondered how we should get in. Our captain was equal to

the problem, however, and undeterred by the crowded state of the

harbor, within whose narrow limits were two large steamers, one or two

barks and several fishermen, performed a feat of seamanship the equal

of which, we were told, preserved in the traditions of the port, and

only half believed, as having been done once, thirty years before.

Getting about ten knots way on the vessel, and heading her straight

for the steamer nearest the mouth, we just brushed by the rocks of the

entrance, sheered a bit and shot past the steamer before her

astonished officers could utter a word of warning, and were traveling

up the harbor at a steamboat pace, the sails meanwhile rattling down,

and some of us on board wondering if we should not keep right on out

the other entrance to the harbor, while boats scurried out of our way,

two men in one fishing boat looking reproachfully at us as we missed

them by about two feet just after our fellow on lookout had reported

"nothing but a schooner in the way, sir;" and people rushed to their

doors and to the decks to see what was exciting such a commotion, just

as the anchor was let go with a roar and we quietly swung to and ran

our mooring line, as though we had done that thing all our lives.

Here about one hundred letters were brought aboard amid much

rejoicing, for many had not heard from home at all during the trip.

By the time we were ready to make what we hoped would prove the last

departure from a Labrador harbor, the next morning, the wind, which

had changed in the night and was blowing in exactly the opposite

direction, had become so strong that the little steam launch of Bayne

& Co., which had been tendered us to tow us out of the harbor, was not

powerful enough to pull the schooner against it. The other entrance,

for like all the rest this Labrador harbor was merely a "tickle" and

had its two entrances, was narrow, shoal, and had such short turns

that it seemed impossible to run so large a vessel as the Julia

through it. However, our impatience would not brook the uncertain

delay of waiting for the wind to change, so taking on board the best

pilot that town of pilots could afford, we made the attempt. Three

times we held our breaths, almost, as we anxiously watched the great

green spots in the water, indicating sunken rocks, glide under our

counter or along our side, while the steady voice of the weatherbeaten

old man at the fore rigging sounded "port," then in quick, sharp,

seemingly anxious tones, "now starboard--hard!" and again

"port--lively now," and the graceful vessel turned to the right or

left, just grazing the rock or ledge, as though she too could see just

how near to them it was safe to go and yet pass through without a

scrape. It was a decided relief to all, and the silence on board, that

had been broken only by the rush of wind and water, the pilot's voice

and the creaking of the wheel as it was whirled around by the skillful

hands of the captain, suddenly ceased, when the pilot left his place

and walked slowly aft, praising the admirable way in which the vessel

behaved at the critical points, and apparently unconscious that in the

eyes of twenty college boys he had performed an almost impossible

feat.

After a hard pull to windward for two of us, to set the pilot ashore,

and a wet and rough time getting aboard again, and after our laugh at

the expense of the mate, who had cast off our shore warp, as we

started out of the harbor, and then had been unable to catch the

schooner, which was equally unable to wait for him in the narrow

passage, and who had, therefore, to row all the way after us at the

top of his speed, and only caught us when we lay to to send off the

pilot; we made everything snug and started down the straits, hoping to

reach Canso without further delay.

[Last harbor in Labrador] That was not our fortune, however, for soon

the wind hauled ahead, and with a strong current against us it was

impossible to make any progress, so after jumping in a most lively

manner all day, in the chops of Belle Isle, we made a harbor for

the night at Chateau Bay, in almost the same spot where we had waited

two dreary days two months before. The next day we worked along the

coast, but at night again put in to what proved our last, as well as

our first harbor on the Labrador--Red Bay. Here we found a mail

steamer and were allowed irregularly to open the bag to Battle Harbor

and take out that which belonged to us, much to our delight, of course,

for it gave us news comparatively fresh, that is, not over a month

old, from home.

Here, also, we laid in a supply of the only fruit that Labrador

produces, called "bake apple." It is a berry of a beautiful waxen

color when ripe, otherwise looking much like a large raspberry, and

having a most peculiar flavor, which we learned to like, and grew very

fond of, when the berries were served, stewed with sugar. We had been

deprived of fresh fruit so long that we should probably have learned

to like anything, however odd its flavor, that had its general

characteristics.

Here, too, we again fell in with our little Halifax trader, which gave

us so hot a race to Halifax in the coming week, both vessels arriving

at Halifax within an hour of each other, after starting at the same

time from Red Bay and keeping within sight nearly all the time. At

length the wind came to the south, and we started, laying our course

west, along the Labrador shore, so as to get a windward position and

be able to "fetch" Canso when the wind came around to the west, as it

is certain to do at that season of the year, compelling us to "tack

ship" and stand right out against the stormy Gulf of St. Lawrence.

These southwesterly winds had been our dread, for they blow so

strongly and in September make the Gulf so rough that getting to

windward against them is impossible. Hence our satisfaction can be

imagined as we sped along the Labrador coast that day, the wind

becoming a trifle easterly, so as to allow us to "start our sheets"

and at the same time steadily increase our offing, getting such a

weatherly position for Canso that the moment the expected change of

direction began we promptly "tacked ship" and at the worst had a

leading wind across.

For three days we hobnobbed with the little "Minnie Mac" across the

Gulf. The first thing we did in the morning was to hunt her up with

the glasses from aloft, if not in sight from the deck, and the last

thing in order at night were speculations as to where we should next

see her. The difference in the build of the two vessels, the one being

shoal and centerboard, the other deep and heavily laden, made the race

a zigzag. When the wind favored a little and the sheets could be

"eased" then the shoal model would push ahead, but when the wind came

more nearly ahead, and we had to plunge squarely into a head sea, then

the deeper draught and heavier lading told to advantage.

During this time we were not idle on board. The Grand River men were

beginning to feel vigorous again, and their notes and data had to be

worked up. The collections, too, though largely packed away securely

for the rough voyage, yet gave plenty of occupation to those not

otherwise employed, while the few really industriously inclined used

their superfluous energy in seeing to it that the lazy were given no

opportunity to enjoy their idleness.

The morning of the fourth day the coasts of Cape Breton were in sight,

but the wind came straight out of the Gut of Canso in half a gale, and

then our rival, owing to her greater weight, forged ahead, and it

seemed that we were to be beaten. However, much to our amusement, when

we got a few miles off the mouth of the Gut, we found a calm, into

which the "Minnie Mac" had run and where she stayed till we came up.

With us also came a breeze, and we forged ahead of her into the

anchorage at Port Hawksbury just as we had said we would do when we

left Red Bay. Here we spent the rest of the day, laying in a stock of

much needed fresh provisions, and sending nine of our college

base-ballists, at the invitation of the Port Hawkesbury nine, to give

them some points on the game. About the fifth inning the game closed

on account of darkness, with score in Bowdoin's favor something about

30-0.

A short run brought us into Little Canso, where we had to turn to the

west to go along the Nova Scotia coast to Halifax, but fog shut down

so we spent a day inspecting the plant of the Mackay-Bennett cable,

which has its terminus at Hazel Hill, about two miles from Canso,

finding some very agreeable acquaintances in the persons of Mr.

Dickinson, the manager, and Mr. Upham, his first assistant electrical

expert, who proved to be a Castine man and was deligted to meet some

Yankees from his old cruising grounds, Penobscot Bay, and getting some

interesting knowledge concerning ocean telegraphy. It seemed strange,

to say the least, to be in communication, as we were, with a ship out

in mid-Atlantic, repairing a cable, and to have an answer from Ireland

to our message in less than a minute after it was sent.

[Solid shot at Halifax] With one stop on account of fog and

threatening storm, we reached Halifax in two more days. The

introduction to it, though, was not so pleasant, for as we were

running up the harbor solid shot from one of the shore batteries came

dropping around us and skipping by us, altogether too near for

comfort. However, no damage was done beyond the injury threatened to

Her Majesty's property in the proposition for a while considered to

call away boarders, land and take the battery. We found later that it

was merely target practice and nothing disrespectfully intended

towards the flag flying from our peak, so were satisfied that we had

not made any hostile response.

Once ashore the hospitable Haligonians began by inviting the Professor

and others to a dinner at the Halifax Club. The next day we enjoyed

an official reception, and accompanied by Premier Fielding and members

of his Cabinet, Consul General Frye and other gentlemen, were taken on

an excursion about the beautiful harbor in the steam yacht of one of

our entertainers, given a dinner and right royally toasted at one of

the public buildings, and were finally taken to the Yacht Club House

for a final reception.

At Halifax some of our party fearing more delay in reaching Rockland,

left us, so with diminished numbers but plenty of enthusiasm we made

ready for the last stage of the voyage. After some rather amusing

experiences with our assistant steward or "cookee," who seemed to

reason that because he had been so long deprived of the luxuries of

modern civilization he should employ the first opportunity he had to

enjoy them in making himself incapable of doing so, and who was

brought aboard the morning we sailed only after a somewhat prolonged

search, we "squared away" for Cape Sable. The fine fair wind ran us

nearly down there, but just as we thought to escape the provoking

calms that delayed us in this vicinity on the outward trip, we found

the wind drawing ahead and failing. A day was spent in slowly working

around the cape, drifting back much of the time, and then we struck

one of the southerly fog winds that are too well known on the Maine

coast. We were in waters on which our captain had been bred, and so we

pushed on into the night, looking eagerly or listening intently as the

darkness closed over us for some sign of approaching land. At length,

just about eleven, when it seemed we could not stand the suspense of

knowing that thousands of rocks were just ahead but not just where

they were, and yet equally unwilling to stop then, when so near home,

we heard the sound of the breakers, and standing cautiously in on

finding the water very deep, soon made Mt. Desert rock light. It was a

welcome sight, and from there an easy matter to shape our course for

home. At day-break we could still see nothing, but towards noon, the

wind being light and our progress slow, we passed the desolate house

of refuge on the Wooden Ball Island, and soon the lifting fog showed

us the mouth of Penobscot's beautiful bay, and shortly after we

dropped our anchor in the long wished for Rockland harbor, and the

cruise of the Julia Decker and her crew of Bowdoin boys was ended.

[The royal welcome] The account would be incomplete, though, were

reference omitted to the royal welcome that awaited us at Rockland.

Upon landing we found the church bells ringing, and the city's

business for the moment stopped, while the city fathers as well as a

goodly number of her sons and daughters greeted us at the wharf. In

the evening there was another reception, and there the expedition as

such appeared for the last time, and as the most fitting way in which

we could express our gratitude at the interest shown in our work and

safe return, as well as to contribute our share towards the evening's

entertainment, the Bowdoin College Labrador Expedition Glee Club

rendered, as its last selection, a popular college song, of which the

burden was, as also the title, "The wild man of Borneo has just come

to town."