You
can do it, and without any trouble too. Good-bye, and the best of
success to you."
The farewell wishes of M. Duclos and M. Fournier, his assistant,
were not less enthusiastic. M. Duclos ran forward a little, kodak
in hand, and as the canoe glided past up the river, he said: "I
have ze las' picture, Madame."
A few minutes' paddling carried the canoes round the point, and the
two posts were lost to sight.
It did not seem strange or unnatural to be setting out as I was on
such an errand. Rather there came a sense of unspeakable relief in
thus slipping away into the wilderness, with the privilege of
attempting the completion of the work my husband had undertaken to
do. Everything looked hopeful for my plans, and I was only glad to
be really started on my way at last. Behind me in my canoe sat the
trusty hero whose courage and honour and fidelity made my venture
possible, and who took from my shoulders so much of the
responsibility. Through George Elson I engaged and paid the other
men of my party, and on him I relied to communicate to them my
plans and my directions and desires.
It was a perfect day. The air was clear as crystal, and the water,
the greenwoods, the hills and mountains with lines and patches of
white upon them, the sky with its big, soft clouds made such a
combination of green and blue and silver as I had never seen except
in Labrador. Before five o'clock we had passed the rapid at the
head of the three-mile stretch of river draining Grand Lake to Lake
Melville, to which alone the natives give the name Northwest River,
and turned into Grand Lake.
The thought of Grand Lake had troubled me a little. It is forty
miles long and four miles wide, and only a little wind is needed to
make such a body of water impassable for loaded canoes. M. Duclos
had offered his yacht to take us to the mouth of the Nascaupee
River, but when we were ready to start there was not enough wind to
carry her past the rapid, and we decided not to wait. On entering
the lake we turned to the right and landed to put up our first
sails. Soon they were caught by the light breeze and, together
with the quick paddle strokes, carried the canoes at a rapid pace
towards Cape Corbeau, which rose high and commanding twelve miles
away.
At 6 P.M. we landed for supper, hard tack and bacon and tea, and
then as quickly as might be were on our way again. There was need
to make the most of such perfect conditions for passing Grand Lake.
Sunset, and we were nearing Cape Corbeau. Then came twilight which
was almost more beautiful, and I sat sometimes thinking my own
thoughts, sometimes listening to George and Job as they chatted
with each other in Indian.
