We took the candles also, and filled one pail with lard,
leaving one of the pieces of bacon in its place. Already we were
regretting that we had no lard or candles with us. They had been
cut out of the list when we feared the canoes would not hold all
the outfit, and later I had forgotten to add them. The men were
hungry for fried cakes, and the lard meant a few of these as a
treat now and then.
Gilbert had hoped to find an axe here, but although be hunted
everywhere there was none to be found. He did, however, get his
little frying-pan and a small pail which made a welcome addition to
our depleted outfit.
That day we portaged nearly all the afternoon. It was rough, hard
walking, and occasional showers fell which made it worse. There
was many a wistful glance cast across to the other shore where we
could see a fine sand terrace. There the walking must be smooth
and easy; but we could not cross, the rapids were too heavy.
During the afternoon we found the first and only fresh caribou
tracks seen in the lower Nascaupee valley. A pair of fish eagles,
circling high above us, screamed their disapproval of our presence
there. We saw their nest at the very top of a dead spruce stub,
some sixty feet or more above the ground. This was one of the very
many things on the trip which made me wish I were a man. I could
have had a closer look at the nest; I think I could have taken a
photograph of it too. Now and then came the sweet, plaintive song
of the white-throated sparrow.
Towards evening it began to rain fast, and as if with the intention
of keeping at it; so George called a halt. As I sat down on a pile
of outfit he opened up the men's tent, and, spreading it over me,
directed me to wait there till my own was ready. George's tone of
authority was sometimes amusing. Sometimes I did as I was told,
and then again I did not. This time I did, and with my rifle on
one side and my fishing-rod on the other, to hold the tent up, I
sat and watched them making camp and building the fire.
All day the mosquitoes and flies had been bad, but now the rain had
coaxed them out in redoubled force, and they were dreadful. I
could feel how swollen my neck and ears were, and wondered how I
looked; but I was rather glad that I had no mirror with me, and so
could not see. Now and then I had spoken of my suspicions as to
what a remarkable spectacle I must present. George, manlike,
always insisted that I looked "just right"; but that night, in an
unguarded moment, he agreed with me that it was a good thing I had
not brought a mirror. For the first time we went into a wet camp.
It poured steadily all day Friday, and we did not attempt to go
forward. I slept again after breakfast, and then did some mending,
made veils, and studied a little. It was very cold and dismal; but
the cold was always welcome, for it kept the flies and mosquitoes
quiet. Our camp was on high ground, and from the open front of my
tent I could look down over a steep bank thirty feet to the river,
racing past with its ceaseless roar. Sometimes I wished I could
reach out and stop it just for a minute, and then let it go again.
I wished rainy days might not come often, though I fully expected
that they would. About 3 P.M. I heard a stir outside and going out
found George and Gilbert making a fire. It was not so simple a
matter now without an axe. The small stuff had to be broken, and
then whole trees were dragged bodily to the spot and laid on to be
burned off a piece at a time. When fallen stuff was scarce,
standing dead trees were by hard labour pushed over and brought in.
The big fire felt very good that day.
It was not raining quite so fast now, and after dinner I sat
watching George while he mended my moccasin where the mice had
eaten it, and sewed the moleskin cartridge pouch to my leather
belt. He finished putting the pouch on, and handed the belt back
to me with a satisfied smile. Instead of taking it I only laughed
at him, when he discovered he had put the pistol-holster and knife-
sheath on wrong side first. There was no help for it; it had to
come off again, for the sheaths would not slip over either buckle
or pouch. I comforted him with the assurance that it was good he
should have something to do to keep him out of mischief. When the
mistake had been remedied he showed me how to make a rabbit-snare.
Then the rain drove me to my tent again, and I had supper there
while the men made bannocks. It was horrid to eat in the tent
alone.
The barometer was now rising steadily, and I went to sleep with
high hopes of better weather in the morning. When I awoke the sun
was shining on the hills across the river. How welcome the sight
was! Everything was still wet though, and we did not break camp
till after dinner. I did some washing and a little mending. The
mice had eaten a hole in a small waterproof bag in which I carried
my dishes, dish-towel, and bannock, and I mended it with some tent
stuff.
