"Had
they seen any signs of the crossing?" George told them of the
great numbers we had seen and there followed an earnest discussion
among themselves as to the probability of the caribou passing near
them.
"Are you going up?" we enquired.
They replied, "No, not our country."
There were enquiries as to which way the caribou were passing, and
again they talked among themselves about their hopes and fears. We
learned that only three days before they had returned from Davis
Inlet where they go to trade for supplies as do the Montagnais.
They had come back from their long journey sick at heart to meet
empty handed those who waited in glad anticipation of this the
great event of the year - the return from the post. The ship had
not come, and the post store was empty.
As they talked, the group about the canoe was growing larger. The
old men had joined the others together with a few old women. As
the story of their disappointment was told one old man said, "You
see the way we live and you see the way we dress. It is hard for
us to live. Sometimes we do not get many caribou. Perhaps they
will not cross our country. We can get nothing from the
Englishman, not even ammunition. It is hard for us to live."
All summer they had been taking an occasional caribou, enough for
present needs, but little more than that, and the hunters on their
return from the coast found the hands at home as empty as their
own. Now the long winter stretched before them with all its dread
possibilities.
We enquired of them how far it was to the coast, and found that
they make the outward journey in five days, and the return trip in
seven. They informed us that they had this year been accompanied
part of the way in by an Englishman. All white men are Englishmen
to them. As George interpreted to me, he said, "That must be Mr.
Cabot."
Instantly the chief caught at the name and said, "Cabot? Yes, that
is the man. He turned back two days' journey from here. He was
going away on a ship."
When during the winter I had talked with Mr. Cabot of my trip he
had said, "Perhaps we shall meet on the George next summer." Now I
felt quite excited to think how near we had come to doing so. How
I wished he had sent me a line by the Indians. I wanted to know
how the Peace Conference was getting on. I wondered at first that
he had not done so; but after a little laughed to myself as I
thought I could guess why. How envious he would be of me, for I
had really found the home camp of his beloved Nascaupees.
Meanwhile the old women had gathered about me begging for tobacco.
I did not know, of course, what it was they wanted, and when the
coveted tobacco did not appear they began to complain bitterly,
"She is not giving us any tobacco. See, she does not want to give
us any tobacco."
George explained to them that I did not smoke and so had no tobacco
to give them, but that I had other things I could give them. Now
that we were so near the post I could spare some of my provisions
for the supply was considerably more than we should now need to
take us to our journey's end. There was one partly used bag of
flour which was lifted out of the canoe and laid on the beach.
Then Job handed me the tea and rice bags. Two, not very clean,
coloured silk handkerchiefs were spread on the beach when I asked
for something to put the tea and rice in, and a group of eager
faces bent over me as I lifted the precious contents from the bags,
leaving only enough tea to take us to the post, and enough rice for
one more pudding. An old tin pail lying near was filled with salt,
and a piece of bacon completed the list. A few little trinkets
were distributed among the women and from the expression on their
faces, I judged they had come to the conclusion that I was not so
bad after all, even though I did not smoke a pipe and so could not
give them any of their precious "Tshishtemau."
Meantime I had been thinking about my photographs. Taking up one
of my kodaks I said to the chief that I should like to take his
picture and motioned him to stand apart. He seemed to understand
quite readily and stepped lightly to one side of the little company
in a way which showed it was not a new experience to him. They had
no sort of objection to being snapped, but rather seemed quite
eager to pose for me.
Then came an invitation to go up to the camp. As George
interpreted he did not look at all comfortable, and when he asked
if I cared to go I knew he was wishing very much that I would say
"No," but I said, "Yes, indeed." So we went up while the other
three remained at the canoes.
Even in barren Labrador are to be found little touches that go to
prove human nature the same the world over. One of the young men,
handsomer than the others, and conscious of the fact, had been
watching me throughout with evident interest. He was not only
handsomer than the others, but his leggings were redder. As we
walked up towards the camp he went a little ahead, and to one side
managing to watch for the impression he evidently expected to make.
A little distance from where we landed was a row of bark canoes
turned upside down.
