Though they were still far back from the shore.
Their rounded tops were covered with moss, and low down on the
sides dark patches showed where the green woods were.
It was a glorious afternoon, and the canoes scudded at racing pace
before a heavy south wind. At a point on the east shore, six miles
up the lake, I landed to take bearings. Here we found a peculiar
mound of rocks along the edge of the water which proved to be
characteristic of the whole shoreline of the lake. The rocks had
been pushed out by the ice and formed a sort of wall, while over
the wall moss and willows grew, with here and there a few stunted
evergreens, the whole making an effective screen along the water's
edge. Back of this were swamps and bogs with low moss-covered
mounds running through them, and grown up with scattered tamarack
and spruces. On the west shore the hills reached quite to the wall
itself.
Behind this wall, at the point, we found a family of ptarmigan.
When we appeared the mother bird tried vainly to hurry her flock
away to a place of safety. Her mate flew across to an island a
short distance north, leaving her alone to her task, but she and
her little ones were all taken. Here the first wolf tracks we had
seen on the trip were found.
After some time spent at the point it was time to camp. We crossed
to the island, north, and as we landed a white-winged ptarmigan
flew back to where had just been enacted one of the endless
succession of wilderness tragedies. I wondered if he would not
wish he had stayed to share the fate of his little family, and what
he would do with himself now. It was a beautiful camping place we
found. The Indians had found it too, and evidently had appreciated
its beauty. There were the remains of many old camps there, well-
worn paths leading from one to the other. It was the first place
we had come upon which gave evidence of having been an abiding
Place of some permanence. There must have been quite a little
community there at one time. The prospect south, west, and north
was very beautiful.
My tent was pitched in a charming nook among the spruce trees, and
had a carpet of boughs all tipped with fresh green. The moss
itself was almost too beautiful to cover; but nothing is quite so
nice for carpet as the boughs. We were on a tiny ridge sloping to
the south shore of the island, and over the screen of willows and
evergreens at the water's edge, the wind came in strong enough to
drive away the flies and mosquitoes, and leave one free to enjoy
the beauty of the outlook. It was an ideal place to spend Sunday,
and with a sigh of relief we settled into our island camp. The
week had been a wonderfully interesting one; but it had also been
an anxious and trying one in a few ways. I was glad to have passed
Michikamau so quickly and easily. I wished it might be our good
fortune to see some of the Indians.
Through the night the south wind rose to a gale, and showers of
rain fell. On Sunday morning I was up at 7 A.M., and after a nice,
lazy bath, luxuriously dressed myself in clean clothes. Then came
a little reading from a tiny book that had been in Labrador before,
and a good deal of thinking. Just after 9 A.M. I lay down to go to
sleep again. I had not realised it before, but I was very tired.
My eyes had closed but a moment when rat-a-tat-tat on the mixing
pan announced breakfast. Joe had prepared it, and the others came
straggling out one by one looking sleepy and happy, enjoying the
thought of the day's rest, the more that it was the kind of day to
make it impossible to travel. Returning to my tent after the meal
I lay down to sleep. My head had no sooner touched the pillow than
I was asleep, and did not wake till 1.30 P.M.
I could hear Gil outside preparing lunch, and went out to see how
he was getting on. It was the first time he had attempted anything
in the cooking line, and he looked anxious. We were to have fried
cakes and tea, and Gil was cooking the fried cakes. They were not
much to look at, for the wind had coated them well with ashes; but
they tasted good, and the youngster looked quite relieved at the
way they disappeared when we began to eat.
Michikamats was certainly very picturesque in the gale. The wind
had six miles of unbroken sweep, and stirred the lake to wild
commotion. Out of shelter I could scarcely stand against it. For
a long time I watched two gulls trying to fly into the wind. They
were very persistent and made a determined fight, but were at last
compelled to give up and drop back to land. I spent nearly the
whole afternoon watching the storm, running to cover only while the
showers passed.
When we gathered for supper in the evening Job was holding a pot
over the fire, and did not move to get his plate and cup with the
rest. George gave me my plate of soup, and when I had nearly
finished it Job set the pot down beside me, saying gently: "I just
set this right here." In the pot were three fried cakes, crisp and
hot and brown, exactly as I liked them.
