The Long Labrador Trail | Page 5

the
Harlow's purser's ashore. If you can't get passage on the Harlow my
schooner's here doing nothin' while I goes to St. Johns for goods, and
I'll have my men run you up to Nor'west River."
I thanked him and lost no time in going ashore in his boat, where I
found Mr. James Fraser, the factor, and received a hearty welcome. In
Mr. Fraser's office I found also the purser of the Harlow, and I quickly
arranged with him for a passage to Kenemish, which is ninety miles up
the inlet, and just across Groswater Bay (twelve miles) from Northwest
River Post. The Harlow was to sail at daylight and I at once returned to
the mail boat, called the boys and, with the help of the Virginia's crew
and one of their small boats, we were transferred, bag and baggage, to
the Harlow.
Owing to customs complications the Harlow was later than expected in

leaving Rigolet, and it was evening before she dropped anchor at
Kenemish. I went ashore in the ship's boat and visited again the lumber
camp "cook house" where Dr. Hardy and I lay ill throng those weary
winter weeks, and where poor Hardy died. Hardy was the young
lumber company doctor who treated my frozen feet in the winter of
1903-1904. Here I met Fred Blake, a Northwest River trapper. Fred had
his flat, and I engaged him to take a part of our luggage to Northwest
River. Then I returned to the ship to send the boys ahead with the
canoes and some of our baggage, while I waited behind to follow with
Fred and the rest of the kit in his flat a half hour later.
Fred and I were hardly a mile from the ship when a heavy thunderstorm
broke upon us, and we were soon drenching wet--the baptism of our
expedition. This rain was followed by a dense fog and early darkness.
On and on we rowed, and I was berating myself for permitting the men
to go on so far ahead of us with the canoes, for they did not know the
way and the fog had completely shut out the lights of the Post buildings,
which otherwise would have been visible across the bay for a
considerable distance.
Suddenly through the fog and darkness, from shoreward, came a "Hello!
Hello!" We answered, and heading our boat toward the sound of
continued "Hellos," found the men, with the canoes unloaded and
hauled ashore, preparing to make a night camp. I joined them and,
launching and reloading the canoes again, with Richards and Easton in
one canoe and Pete and I in the other, we followed Fred and Stanton,
who preceded us in the rowboat, keeping our canoes religiously within
earshot of Fred's thumping oarlocks. Finally the fog lifted, and not far
away we caught a glimmer of lights at the French Post. All was dark at
the Hudson Bay Post across the river when at last our canoes touched
the sandy beach and we sprang ashore.
What a flood of remembrances came to me as I stepped again upon the
old familiar ground! How vividly I remembered that June day when
Hubbard and I had first set foot on this very ground and Mackenzie had
greeted us so cordially! And also that other day in November when,
ragged and starved, I came here to tell of Hubbard, lying dead in the

dark forest beyond! The same dogs that I had known then came running
to meet us now, the faithful fellows with which I began that sad funeral
journey homeward over the ice. I called some of them by name
"Kumalik," "Bo'sun," "Captain," "Tinker"--and they pushed their great
heads against my legs and, I believe, recognized me.
It was nearly two o'clock in the morning. We went immediately to the
Post house and roused out Mr. Stuart Cotter, the agent (Mackenzie is
no longer there), and received from him a royal welcome. He called his
Post servant and instructed him to bring in our things, and while we
changed our dripping clothes for dry ones, his housekeeper prepared a
light supper. It was five o'clock in the morning when I retired.
In the previous autumn I had written Duncan McLean, one of the four
men who came to my rescue on the Susan River, that should I ever
come to Labrador again and be in need of a man I would like to engage
him. Cotter told me that Duncan had just come from his trapping path
and was at the Post kitchen, so when we had finished breakfast, at eight
o'clock that morning, I saw Duncan and, as he was quite willing to go
with us, I arranged with him to accompany us a short distance into the
country to