Here where the caribou were rare, George River mosquitoes made life
miserable for us. The flies, which in the Nascaupee country had
been such a trial to me, had not driven the men to the use of their
veils except on rare occasions; but now they were being worn even
out on the lake where we were still tormented. Backs and hats were
brown with the vicious wretches where they would cling waiting for
a lull in the wind to swarm about our heads in such numbers that
even their war song made one shiver and creep. They were larger by
far than any Jersey mosquitoes ever dreamed of being, and their
bite was like the touch of a live coal. Sometimes in the tent a
continual patter on the roof as they flew against it sounded like a
gentle rain.
The foot of the lake was finally reached on Monday evening, August
21st, at sunset, and we went into camp fifty-five to sixty miles
from where we had entered it, and within sound of the first pitch
in the one hundred and thirty miles of almost continuous rapids
over which we were to travel. That night Job had a dream of them.
He believed in dreams a little and it troubled him. He thought we
were running in rapids which were very difficult, and becoming
entrapped in the currents were carried over the brink of a fall.
In the morning he told his dream, and the others were warned of
danger ahead. My canoe was to lead the way with George in the bow
and Job in the stern, while Joe and Gilbert were to follow close
behind. When we left our camp an extra paddle was placed within
easy reach of each canoe man so that should one snap at a critical
moment another could instantly replace it.
This was a new attitude towards the work ahead and as we paddled
slowly in the direction of the outlet where the hills drew
together, as if making ready to surround and imprison us, my mind
was full of vague imaginings concerning the river.
Far beyond my wildest thought, however, was the reality.
Immediately at the outlet the canoes were caught by the swift
current and for five days we were carried down through almost
continuous rapids. There were long stretches of miles where the
slope of the river bed was a steep gradient and I held my breath as
the canoe shot down at toboggan pace. There was not only the slope
down the course of the river but where the water swung past long
points of loose rocks, which reach out from either shore, a
distinct tilt from one side to the other could be seen, as when an
engine rounds a bend.
