It Is Not Generally Borne In Mind By Those Who Have Been Interested In Mr. Hubbard And His Last Venture, That He Did Not Plan His Outfit For The Trip Which They Made.

The failure to find the open waterway to Lake Michikamau, which has already been discussed, made the journey almost one long portage to the great lake.

But even so, if the season of unprecedented severity in which my husband made his journey, could have been exchanged for the more normal one in which I made mine, he would still have returned safe and triumphant, when there would have been only praises for his courage, fortitude and skill in overcoming the difficulties which lie across the way of those who would search out the hidden and untrod ways.

Nevertheless rising far above either praise or blame stands the beauty of that message which came out from the lonely tent in the wilderness. In utter physical weakness, utter loneliness, in the face of defeat and death, my husband wrote that last record of his life, so triumphantly characteristic, which turned his defeat to a victory immeasurably higher and more beautiful than the success of his exploring venture could ever have been accounted, and thus was compassed the higher purpose of his life.

For that it had been given to me to fulfill one of those lesser purposes by which he planned to build up a whole, that would give him the right to stand among those who had done great things worthily, I was deeply grateful. The work was but imperfectly done, yet I did what I could.

The hills were white with snow when the ship came to Ungava. She had run on a reef in leaving Cartwright, her first port of call on the Labrador coast; her keel was ripped out from stem to stern, and for a month she had lain in dry dock for repairs at St. John's, Newfoundland. It was October 22nd when I said good-bye to my kind friends at the post and in ten days the _Pelican_ landed us safe at Rigolette. Here I had the good fortune to be picked up by a steamer bound for Quebec; but the wintry weather was upon us and the voyage dragged itself out to three times its natural length, so that it was the evening of November 20th, just as the sun sank behind the city, that the little steamer was docked at Quebec, and I stepped from her decks to set foot once again in "God's country."

DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. KEPT DURING HIS EXPEDITION INTO LABRADOR

Tuesday, July 7th - Last night moonlight and starry and fine. This morning the shore of Labrador spread out before us in the sunshine. It calls ever so hard, and I am hungry to tackle it. Landed this A.M. at Indian Harbour. George and I went ashore in the canoe; Wallace in ship's boat. Lot of fishermen greeted us. Find all men and women on the coast are Newfoundland men, and "Liveyeres" (Live- heres). The former come up to fish in summer and are the aristocrats. The latter are the under-crust. Could not get any one to take us to Rigolette. Spent the afternoon getting outfit together - assorting and packing - weighing it and trying it in the canoe, while line of Newfoundland salts looked on, commented, and asked good-natured questions. Canoe 18 feet, guide's special, Oldtown, canvas. Weight about 80. Tent - miner's tent, pole in front, balloon silk, weight 6 lbs., dimensions 6 1/2 x 7. Three pairs 3-lb. blankets; two tarpaulins about 6 x 7; three pack straps; two 9-inch duck waterproof bags, hold 40 lbs. each; three 12-inch bags; 3 1/4 x 4 1/4 kodak; 30 rolls films, one dozen exposures each, in tin cases with electrician's tape water- proofing; one dozen small waterproof bags of balloon silk, for sugar, chocolate, note-books and sundries. Wallace and I each have one extra light weight 45-70 rifle, smokeless powder. Also one pistol each, diamond model, 10-inch barrel, for partridges. For grub we have four 45-lb. sacks of flour; 30 lbs. bacon; 20 lbs. lard; 30 lbs. sugar; 14 lbs. salt; 3 or 4 lbs. dried apples from home; 10 lbs. rice; 20 lbs. erbswurst; 10 lbs. pea flour in tins; 10 lbs. tea; 5 lbs. coffee; 6 chocolate; 10 hardtack; 10 lbs. dried milk. Put all in canoe, got in ourselves, and found we could carry it 0.K.

Wednesday, July 8th. - Took observation at noon. Lat. 54 degrees 28 minutes. Steve Newell, a liveyere from Winter's Cove, offered to take us to Rigolette for fifteen dollars. "Would I give him $1 to get a bit of grub for his family?" Got flour and molasses. Started in the _Mayflower_, a leaky little craft, about 5 P.M. No wind to speak of. Cold drizzle and fog. About 11 we landed at Winter's Cove. Nasty place to land among the rocks on a desolate point. From a shanty on the beach came a yelling and hallooing from several voices to know who we were and what we were doing. Went into cabin, two rooms - one frame and the other sod. Room about 12 x 14 - desolate. Two women like furies - ragged, haggard, brown, hair streaming. One had baby in her arms; two small girls and a boy. One of women Steve's mother. Dirty place, but better than the chilling fog. Glad to get in. Fire started. Stove smoked till room was full. Little old lamp, no chimney. We made coffee and gave coffee and hard-tack to all. Women went into other room with children. We spread tarpaulin and blankets, and lay on floor; so did Steve. Women talked loudly.

Thursday, July 9th. - Started at 5 A.M., launching boat after Steve had said, "Don't know as we can launch 'er, sir." Fog. Offered Steve chart and compass. "Ain't got no learnin', sir.

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