A Woman's Way Through Unknown Labrador An Account Of The Exploration Of The Nascaupee And George Rivers By Mrs. Leonidas Hubbard, Junior
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Once I Asked
Job If Running Rapids Did Not Tire Him Very Much.
He answered,
"Yes," with a smile and look of surprise that I should understand
such a thing.
The nights were made hideous by the mosquitoes, and I slept little.
The loss of sleep made rapid running trying, and after a
particularly bad night I would sit trembling with excitement as we
raced down the slope. It was most difficult to resist the impulse
to grasp the sides of the canoe, and to compel myself instead to
sit with hands clasped about my knee, and muscles relaxed so that
my body might lend itself to the motion of the canoe. Sometimes as
we ran towards the west the river glittered so in the afternoon
sunshine that it was impossible to tell what the water was doing.
This made it necessary to land now and again, so that Job might go
forward and look over the course. As the bow of the canoe turned
inshore, the current caught the stern and whirled it round with
such force and suddenness, that only the quick setting of a paddle
on the shoreward side kept the little craft from being dashed to
pieces against the rocks.
On Thursday, August 24th, I wrote in my diary: "Such a nice sleep
last night albeit blankets and 'comfortable' so wet (the stopper of
my hot-water bottle had not been properly screwed in the night
before and they were soaked). Beautiful morning. Mountains ahead
standing out against the clear sky with delicate clouds of white
mist hanging along their sides or veiling the tops.
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