Then we discovered
that a boat was out at some nets, and on reaching it found an
Eskimo fisherman and his son taking in the catch. He smiled
broadly as he came to the end of his boat to shake hands with us,
and my heart sank dully, for his face and manner plainly indicated
that he had been expecting us. This could only be explained by the
fact that the ship had been to the post bringing with her the news
of my attempted crossing. We spoke to him in English, which he
seemed to understand, but replied in Eskimo, which we were helpless
to make anything of, and after a vain struggle for the much desired
news as to the ship, we left him and proceeded on our way.
I sat thinking desperately of the Eskimo, of the way he had
received us and its portent. There could be only one explanation.
I had no heart now for the competition as to who should first sight
the post. Yet how we hope even when there is nothing left to us
but the absence of certainty! I could not quite give up yet.
Suddenly George exclaimed, "There it is." Somehow he seemed nearly
always to see things first.
There it was deep in a cove, on the right bank of the river, a
little group of tiny buildings nestling in at the foot of a
mountain of solid rock. It seemed almost microscopic in the midst
of such surroundings. The tide was low and a great, boulder-
strewn, mud flat stretched from side to side of the cove. Down
from the hills to the east flowed a little stream winding its way
through a tortuous channel as it passed out to the river. We
turned into it and followed it up, passing between high mud-banks
which obscured the post till we reached a bend where the channel
bore away to the farther side of the cove. Then to my surprise the
men suddenly changed paddles for poles and turning the bows inshore
poled right on up over the mud-bank. It was such a funny and novel
performance that it snapped the spell for me, and I joined with the
men in their shouts of laughter over the antics of the canoe on the
slippery mud-bank. When we finally reached the top and slid out on
to the flat, we saw a man, who we supposed must be Mr. Ford, the
agent at the post, coming over the mud with his retinue of Eskimo
to meet us.
We were all on our feet now waiting. When he came within hearing,
I asked if he were Mr. Ford, and told him who I was and how I had
come there.
