When I went to my tent, it
was to lie very wide awake, turning over in my mind plans of battle
in case the red men proved aggressive.
The following morning the weather was still bad but we attempted to
go forward. Soon a snow squall drove us to the shelter of the
woods. When it had passed we were again on the water; but rain
came on and a gale of wind drove it into our faces, till they
burned as if hot water instead of cold were pelting them. We could
make no headway, and so put ashore on the right bank of the river
to wait for calmer weather. Camp was made on a tiny moss-covered
ridge of rock back of the stretch of swamp along the shore, and
soon a roaring fire sent out its welcome warmth to the wet and
shivering wayfarers crouching near it in the shelter of the spruce.
How cold it was! And how slowly we were getting on!
The river widened here, and on the left bank, at short intervals
broad trails with fresh cut tracks led down to its edge, and along
the shore a wide band of white caribou hair clung to the bank four
feet above the river, where it had been left by the receding water.
So we knew that the caribou had been in possession of the region
since shedding their winter coats.
We had been sitting by the fire only a little while when Job, who,
after his usual manner had disappeared, called to us in a low,
eager voice from one hundred feet away. He said only one word -
"Joe" - but we all knew what it meant and there was a rush in the
direction in which he had again disappeared. A herd of fifteen
caribou were swimming across from the opposite shore straight to
the little bay above our landing. Under cover of the woods and
willows we stole down quite close to the water and waited until
they came almost to shore. Then springing from our hiding places
we shouted at them. The beautiful, frightened creatures turned and
went bounding back through the shallow water, splashing it into
clouds of spray, till they sank into the deeper tide and only heads
and stubs of tails could be seen as they swam back to the other
shore. They were nearly all young ones, some of them little fawns.
All day long, at short intervals, companies of them were seen
crossing, some one way, some another. Towards evening two herds
passed the camp at the same time, one to the east of us but a short
distance away, and the other along the foot of the ridge on the
west, not fifty feet from our camp.
On Wednesday, against the strong northwest wind, we succeeded in
making six and a half miles, passing the mouth of the southwest
branch of the Upper George River; and when at 3 P.M. we reached the
head of Long Lake it was too rough to venture on, and we had to go
into camp.
I felt rather desperate that night, and sick with disappointment.
One week of precious time was gone, it was the 16th of the month,
and we were only thirty miles, perhaps a little more, from the
Height of Land. How was it possible to reach the post in time for
the ship now?
"We will get you there about two days before the ship arrives,"
George insisted.
"When we get down below the lakes we can make forty miles a day if
the weather is good," said Joe.
But I was not reassured. When we should get down below the lakes
we could travel fast perhaps; but the last one, Indian House Lake,
where the old Hudson's Bay Company post had been, was still far,
far north of us, and no one knew what lay between. Perhaps there
was a bare possibility that we might make the journey in ten days;
but I knew I could not count on it. Had I a right to undertake the
return journey with its perils? I was not sure.
My tent was sweet that night with the fragrance of its carpet of
balsam boughs, and a big bunch of twin flowers, which grew in
profusion there; but it was late before I slept. Perhaps two hours
after I awoke to find a big moon peering into my face through the
open front of my tent.
I was startled at first, and instinctively reached for my revolver,
not knowing what it was; but when full consciousness had returned,
whether it was the effect of the moon or not, the question had
somehow been settled. I knew I should go on to Ungava whatever the
consequences might be.
CHAPTER XV
THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS
The night was very still when I awoke, but it was cold. Frost
sparkled in the moonlight on willows and low growth, and when at
first sign of dawn I reached for my stockings and duffel to put
them on, they were frozen stiff. I did not wait to hunt out dry
ones, but slipped them on for I was too anxious to be on the march
again. I meant to go on to Ungava now, no matter what befell;
_perhaps_ we could yet be in time for the ship. She might be
delayed.
The men were astir early, and at a quarter to six we were off.
Already the lake was almost too rough again to go forward. The
wind had risen, and blew cold across the water driving the morning
mists before it.
