19 - Womans Way Through Unknown Labrador by Mina Benson Hubbard - Womans Way Through Unknown Labrador

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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section nineteen of A Woman's Way through Unknown Labrador by
Mina Benson Hubbard. This LibriVox recording is in the public
domain diary of Leonidas Hubbard Junior, kept during his expedition
into Labrador, Tuesday, July seventh, 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,

(00:22):
and I am hungry to tackle it. Land at this
a m at Indian harbor, 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 live years open parentheses live, here's
close parenthesis. The former come up to fish in summer,
and other aristocrats. The latter of the under crust. Could

(00:46):
not get anyone 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 eighteen
feet guides special old town canvas weigh about eighty tent
miner's tent pole in front, balloon silk weight six pounds,

(01:07):
dimensions six and half by seven, three pairs three pounds blankets,
two tarpalans about six by seven, three pack straps, two
nine inch duck waterproof bags hold forty pounds each, three
twelve inch bags three and quarters by four in koarra kodak,
thirty rolls, films, one dozen exposures each in tin cases
with electricians tape waterproofing, one dozen small waterproof bags, balloon

(01:29):
silk for sugar, chocolate, notebooks and sundrys. Wallace and I
each have one extra light weight forty five seventy rifle
smokeless powder, also one pistol each, Diamond model ten inch
barrel for partridges. For groub we have four forty five
pound sacks of flour, thirty pounds bacon, twenty pounds lard,
thirty pounds sugar, fourteen pounds salt, three or four pounds

(01:50):
dried apples from home, ten pounds rice, twenty pounds herbsworst
ten pounds p flour in tins, ten pounds tea, five
pounds coffee, six chocolate, ten heart attack, ten pounds dried
milk put all on canoe got in ourselves and found
we could carry it o k Wednesday, July eighth, took
observation at noon, latitude fifty four degrees twenty eight minutes.

(02:12):
Steve Knewell, a livier from Winter's Cove, offered to take
us to rigole that for fifteen dollars would I give
him one dollar to get a bit of grub for
his family. Got flower and molasses. Started in the mayflower,
a leaky little craft about five p m. No wind
to speak of, cold, drizzle and fog. About eleven we
landed at Winter's Cove, nasty place to land among the

(02:33):
rocks on a desolate point. From a shinty on the beach.
Came a yelling at hallooing from several voices to know
who we were, what we were doing. Went into cabin,
two rooms, one frame and the other sod room, about
twelve by fourteen, 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.

(02:54):
Dirty place, but better than the chewing fog. Glad to
get in. Fire started dove, smoked till room was full,
little old lamp no chimney. We made coffee and gave
coffee and hardtack to all. Women went into other room
with children. We spread tarpawen and blankets and lay on floor,
so did Steve. Women talked loudly. Theirs day, July ninth

(03:15):
started at five a m launching boat at Steve had said,
don't know as we can launcher, Sir, Fog offered Steve
charton compass. Ain't got no learnin, Sir, I can't read,
so I directed course and Fog and Steve steered later
clear fair, high wind. Steve cool, nervy, tireless. He traps
foxes and shoots partridges in winter, buy his flower and molasses.

(03:37):
Got too windy to travel, then did a big black
island to wait for lower wind. George used up lumbago,
put him to bed and put on mustard plaster. Bought
Simon and Joe. Lloyd lives in ten by twelve shanty,
holden roof for smoke to escape. As kimboe wife is
all the world at peace, Sir. He came from England
hungry for news, had trout, smoking and chimney, a little

(03:59):
wood on the island, and moss thick and soft wind,
high and George sick, so did not go on. Gave
George two blankets and tarpawen, did not pitch tent Wallace
and I through tent down and lay on it. Pulled
his blanket over us and slept still. Sunlight at eleven,
whales snorting in the bay, big gulls croaking. Friday, July
tenth abok at one a m bright moonlight made coffee

(04:22):
and milk caled men. George very bad portished outfit two
hundred yards to boat, found her high, worked till four
thirty to launch her. Little wind made Pumpy Island at
eleven saw many whales and seals, cut caplin on fishook
tied to stick, jerking them. Stopped on Pompy for lunch.
Mossy Island of Laurentian Rock. Saw steamer in distance, put off,

(04:45):
fired three or four shots, got only a salute. Put
off in canoe to had her off. She came about
was the Virginia Lake. Took us on board and brought
us to Rigolette. Mister Fraser each b C agent here
to whom I had let her from Commissioner Chipman of
the h B CO. To us in as the company's
men always do made us at home. Seems fine to
be on land again, at a company post. George Better, Eskimaux, dogs, Eskimo,

(05:08):
men and women, breeds, lumbermen, trappers, fishermen, two clerks, all kindly,
even the dogs. I'll talk to him, and hungry for
outside visitors. Saturday, July eleventh, awoke from bad dream of
trouble getting somewhere, to realize that I was at a post.
Mighty good awakening George Better, trying to good data. Ask
Northwest River, no Indians here, white men and Eskimou A

(05:29):
little about it. Captain Joe Blake says Grand Lake good
peddling forty miles long. Muscapi River empties into it, says
Rid River comes into it about fifteen miles above its mouth.
His son Donald came from his traps on Seal Lake
today says same has crossed it about fifty miles above
its mouth in winter. Has heard from someone that Montenay
Indians say it comes from Michigamao does not know. Says

(05:50):
it is shallow. This seems to be what Low has
mapped does Northwest River. Donald says not much game on it.
Others who have not been there say plenty all report
by men who thoes on river just above Grand Lake
in winter to trap missing supposed drowned. Donald says a
chance seal and seal Lake has shot him, but never cold.
One little game there to eat, Maybe fish does not

(06:12):
know to not fish himself. Takes flour, pork, tea and
risin porcupines. We can live on them. Hard to get
definite data, but that makes the work bigger. Sunday, July twelfth, birthday,
Bruise for breakfast, hard tack, fish pork boiled together good
two more early risins than Duff and Bruise is said
to be a Thursday remark of the fisherman. The Pelquan

(06:34):
came in today, stolen in fog and whistled before flag
was up. Good joke. On post big day, Polaquin goes
from here to York, stopping at Angava on way out,
and comes back again brings supplies. Captain Gray came on shore,
has been with company thirty years, in northern waters fifty years.
Jolly cranky, old fellow. You'll never get back, he says
to us. If you are at Angavo, when I get there,

(06:56):
I'll bring you back. Calder lumberman on Grand River and
Sindwich Bay here says we can't do it. Big salmon
stuff at baked for dinner. Bully George says he is
ready to start now. Prophecies that we can't do it,
don't worry me, have heard them before. Can do it
will Monday, July thirteenth. This noon the Julia Sheridan Deep
Sea Mission boat Doctor Simpson came. We said good bye

(07:18):
and embarked for Northwest River. Had good informal supper in
little cabin, good easy yachting time. Stopped about eleven p
m behind Saint John's Island for the night Tuesday July fourteenth.
Landed about two pm at Northwest River. Thomas Mackenzie in charge.
Bully Fellow all alone, loesome, but does not admit it.
Paul Wiry hospitable in the extreme, not busy in winter traps.

(07:39):
Some wish as he could go with us, would pack
up tonight and be ready in the morning. Can get
no definite information as to our route. Mackenzie says, we
are all right, can make it, of course. Gave away
a bag of flour, discarded single blanket, five pounds can
lard got at Rigolette yesterday ten pounds sugar, five pounds
dried apples, four and a half pounds tobacco bought here

(08:00):
five pounds trigger Mackenzie gave me an eight pound three
inch gil net. Wednesday, July fifteenth, wind light southeast, all
day light, clouds latitude, noon fifty three degrees thirty five
minutes left northwester River Post nine a m kemped early
because of rain and stream which promised to trout. No
trout caught. Lake looks like Lake George with lower hills

(08:21):
much iron ore crops from bluffs on south side. Makes
me a bit homesick to think of Lake George. Wish
I could see my girl for a while and be
back here. Would like to drop in at the Michigan
farm too. Thursday July sixteenth, fair day, wind southeast, latitude
at noon fifty three degrees forty five minutes, six miles
above Grand Lake on northwest River. Started at five thirty

(08:42):
a m at nine rounded point in sawmoutha River. George
and I ferried outfit across northwest arm of lake and
two loads. Wind too high for whole load. Saw steel
trap probably belongs to poor Moline who was drowned. Had
cup of tea at ten stopped at noon three quarters
of an hour for observation. Northwest River uns through spruce
covered valley between high hills, easily seen from lake, but

(09:04):
not in river, as spruce is too close in many places,
high banks, many turns, many little rapids, water low. Have
to pull and track. See that we have our work
cut out. Doubt if we can make more than ten
miles a day up this river. I took tracking line
George and Wallace. The poles, sand flies awful, nasty, vindictive
by doubt, chunks and streak, our hands and faces with blood.

(09:24):
Mosquito is positively friendly, by contrast. Tried net, could not see,
then tried dope some help, eating much and not rustling
for fish or game. Want to lighten outfit. Friday, July seventeenth,
rain and clouds rained hard in the night. Awoke dreading
to start out in it. Got breakfast to let George sleep,
water so shoal and swift that we would take part
of outfit and return for the rest. Most places had

(09:46):
to track. I pulling on rope while Wallace and George
waited and pushed and dragged the canoe. Saturday, July eighteenth, bright,
clear day latitude fifty three degrees forty five minutes thirty seconds.
Started out with full load and kept it most of
the day. Had to portage half load a few times.
Awful work all day rapids continuously. I waited with line
while George and Wallace dragged and lifted. All enjoyed the

(10:08):
forenoon's work, and no one depressed when p M. Weariness began.
No game bear in some caribou tracks. Have not seen
a partridge or porcupine. Seems to be few fish. They
come later and farther. On Sunday, July nineteenth, minimum temp
last night thirty eight degrees, fine day and warm. Stayed
in camp all day to rest. I got up at
seven and cut about twenty trout small All pretty tired

(10:31):
and enjoyed the long sleep. At noon, George and West
started up the river following the hills. Found small rocky
stream coming in about one mile up. Suppose it is
the red Wine River two miles up a two mile
stretch of good water. Best of all the portage route
leading in at the foot. We followed this over the
hill to the red Wine River and found old cuttings.
This pleases us a heap. It shows that we are

(10:51):
on the old Monteney trail, that we will probably have
their portage routes clear through, and that they probably found
lakes and good water farther up, or they would never
have fought this bad water. Tomorrow we will tackle the
two mile portage with light hearts. We are three miles
south of where Low's map places us, and beginning to
suspect that the Nascopi River, which flows through Sealed Lake,
also comes out of Michigamao and the Lowe's map is wrong.

(11:13):
Bully stunted if it works out that way. Saw lots
of caribou and fresh bear tracks trout were fine for
supper flies, very bad our wrists burn all the time. Monday,
July twentieth, minimum temp last night thirty seven degrees, bright day,
flies awful. I got breakfast while George cut portage through swamp,
and then we groaned all day through the swamp one
and a half miles across two streams up steep hill,

(11:35):
then a long old trailed foot of smooth water above
these rapids covered root mainly three times, all very tired.
George worked like a hero. Tuesday, July twenty first, minimum
temp thirty six degrees trapped bad three quarter mile. George
and Dice scattered a head six miles, climbed hills six
hundred feet high, caribou and bear tracks, crossed two or

(11:57):
three creeks, found old trail and wigwam poles and wood.
George says winter camp from size of wood, can't follow it.
Tracked quarter mile more and started on long portage. Went
half mile and camped. Flies bed gets cold after dark,
then no flies, stars, fur tops, crisp eare, camp fire, sound,
a river, hopeful hearts. Nasty, hard work, but this pays
for it. Wednesday, July twenty second, minimum temp thirty three

(12:20):
degrees sixty degrees in ten to six a m torture,
all worked across two and a half mile portage, sun
offul flies hellish, all too tired to eat at noon,
cold tea and cold herbs. Worst cashed eighty rounds forty
half seventy cartridges three hundred twenty two's too heavy, too
tired at last, ju mine flies rested our under tent
front all of us. Diarrhea got me too much water

(12:43):
drinking yesterday I guess shot partridge first seen on trip,
jumped up on log before me, waited for me to
drop pack and load pistol. Camp on partridge point bird
seasoned to pot of herbs. Worst dreamed about home as
I worked and rested. Thursday, July twenty third, George and
Dallas scattered for trails lakes. I lay intent diarrhea, took
sun cholera mixture, tore leaves from Low's book and cover

(13:06):
from this diary. These and similar economies lightened my bag
about five pounds. New idea daunted on me as I
lay here, map gazing portage. Root leaves this river and
runs into southeast Arma Michi Caamal. We'll see how guests
turns out. Heat intent awful at noon one hundred and
four degrees out of ten. At one p m. Ninety
two degrees diary. I continued all day, no food but

(13:27):
tea and a bit of hard tack. George back about
seven thirty. Wallace not back, not worried, has probably gone
a little too far and will stay out. Has tin
cup and herbswurst. George reports bridging a river in a
good stretch of calm water. Friday, July twenty fourth, George
produced yellow legs shot yesterday He carried back up river
two miles diarrhea intent. I studied how to take time

(13:48):
with the sextant observation failed much worried over wallas till
he came in about seven p m. Compass went wrong.
He lay out over night, stewed yellow legs and pemale. Tonight, Saturday,
July twenty fifth, four miles week from diarrhea portished one
load each four miles south of stream to open water
back to camp. I took another load. George and Wallace followed,

(14:09):
trying to drag canoe up river. I made camp. They
came in after dark, tired out. Canoe left two miles downstream.
Wallace trought partridge with pistol, came near, going over falls
with pack round his neck. Drizzled all day, heavy rain
to night, great relief from heat flies, very bad in
afternoon and evening. Sunday, July twenty sixth rain most of

(14:29):
the day, lay in ten and am hoping to be
better of diarrhea. Red Low's report et cetera. Trouble better. Monday,
July twenty seventh. Spent a m and two hours PM
bringing up canoe, dragging half way, George carrying rest. Started
on at four alternate pools and rapids rapids not bad,
go up by dragging and tracking. After one and a
half mile camped. Tuesday July twenty eighth, temperature six a

(14:53):
m forty six degrees. Three miles cool, cloudy spell of
sunshine now and then cold nasty, waiting all am to
make a mile fine portaging in PM just cool enough,
no flies, pretty nearly blue, and am for lack of
progress two miles in PM. Brightened things up by fire
between logs. We dry clothed now in evening all tired out,

(15:13):
low new moon. Wednesday July twenty ninth, temp six a
m fifty eight degrees worked four miles small pond, alternating
with rapids, portage one mile in p M. Very tired,
tea and finished fine. Thursday, July thirtieth, temp six a
m thirty nine degrees. Paddled through a succession of ponds
about a quarter of a mile long, each, tracking or

(15:33):
dragging over little falls or rapids between. Made portage of
one hundred rods in PM. Knead fish now grobed not
so heavy as it was. We're starting to dry blankets
at fire. When rain started, all crawled into tent. Knead
rain to raise river plenty Cariboo signs two old wigwams
winter on rock. No fish, but sixty seven inch trout.
Bully camp to night. Friday, July thirty, first, temp six

(15:57):
a m. Thirty six degrees rain all day. Two rivers
puzzled us came together just above our camp. One comes
over a fall from the south side. Other rough comes
from northwest. South branch comes from west better more level,
little ponds between falls and short rapids. Scouted think South branch,
lows northwest river. Wallace caught bully messive trout. While George

(16:18):
and I were scouting. George found old wigwam, but a
quarter mile up south branch. Also a winter blaze crossing
stream north to south. Fresh trapper's line think Blake or
Moline Wigwam. Old rain, bad river, not very good, some ponds,
some portage, some dragging up south branch three quarters of
a mile, stopped for lunch. Stopped after a quarter mile
portage for a scout. Wallas and I made camp in

(16:40):
rain while George scouted. George reports one and a half
mile bad river, then level, deep ponds, very good cut trout,
rainy camp. Saturday August first, rain steadily all night and
to day tired, chilled, ragged. Wallace not well on things, damp,
stayed in camp all day, hopes to dry things out.
Too much rain out in bare feet and drawers, and

(17:01):
cut ten trout. Sunday, August second, cleared this am boys
dried camp while I caught twenty four trout, some half pounders.
Getting a bigger, nearer height of land. We hope reason
water high will help us. Two cans baking powder spoiled,
good feet of trout. Not a bit tired of trout yet.
Observation shows fifty three degrees forty six minutes twelve seconds latitude,

(17:21):
but three miles in PM and camped. Monday, August third, ten,
six a m fifty six degrees, big day. At foot
of a portage. As we were getting ready to pack
us off, four wild geese coming downstream, grabbed rifle, four
cartridges in it. George got Wallace's rifle, All dropped waiting
for them to come round bend thirty feet away. George
and Das shot at once, both hitting leader. All started

(17:42):
flapping along on top of water upstream. I empted my
rifle on them, going at forty to fifty yards, killing
two more. Drew pistol had ran up into stream and
shot fourth in neck. Got all through fits of joy.
Need him just now badly for grub through the little lake,
beginning at head of water quarter of a mile above,
into meadow fresh beaver house, that foot of rapid water

(18:02):
below junction of two streams. Eight lunch trout after three
quarter pounds making water boil caught several from this point
to where river branches to two creeks. We scouted think
found old Monteney Portage. Tonight heap big feed. George built
fire as for bread baking. Tuesday, August fourth, temp six
a m. Fifty six degrees. Portage to one mile to

(18:23):
Monteney Lake. Portage ran through bogs and over low ridges.
I sat an edge of lake looking at rod when
a caribou waded into lake not one hundred feet away.
Rifle at the other end of portage hoped to find
inlet to lake, but only one ends in bog. Lots
of old cuttings at northwest corner of lake. Two old wigwams.
Troubled to know where to go from here. All scouted

(18:43):
whole afternoon. Lake one mile west. Old trail runs towards it.
George thinks cariboo trail. No cutting is found on it
yet I think portage looks like portage we have followed
and runs in right direction. Wednesday, August fifth, portage from
camp on Monteney Lake one mile US to another lake.
No signs of Indians here. Camped at west end of

(19:04):
this saw two caribou dropped pack and grab. Rifle was
waiting for them two hundred and fifty yards away when
a cussled. Little long laked birds scared them at point
near camp where lake's meat. I cast a fly and
half pound and pound fontanalez as fast as I could
pull them out, but a feed. At two p m.
Lunch climbing ridge saw the lake empties by little strait
into another small lake just alongside at south. Stream flows

(19:25):
from that south. Therefore we are on Hamilton River waters.
George and I went scouting to bluffs we saw from
trees on ridge. Both lost. George got back before dark.
I spent night on hill two miles southwest. No matches
were A grub scared, a little heard big river found
it flows southeast, must go into Hamilton. But it is
a big one, several times as big as the Northwest.

(19:46):
At its biggest where does it come from Can it
be Michikamau. Thursday, August sixth slept some last night lying
on two dead spruce tops, too wet and cold to
sleep very well. Mosquitoes awful. George went to my river,
Wallace and I took ane. Went into lake north of here,
cutting's winter. George found river to be big and deep,
straight as though from michi Caamew. Don't believe this little

(20:07):
creek of a northwest comes from there. We'll portish to
this river and try it. Friday, August seventh, portage two
miles to river on our south, good paddling save for
a rapid now, and then so big we thinkrows map
to the contrary that it comes from Michigamo. Anyway, it
comes from that way and will carry us a piece
toward the big lake. No cuttings, big trout despite east wind,
cut about fifteen cold wind drove away flies, fire between

(20:31):
big rocks, moon over bluffs beyond fine evening, fine river,
fine world, life, worth living. Saturday, August eighth, nasty cold
east wind. Went four and a half miles through it
all in good river with six short portages, first three
quarter mile and stopped about one p m to make
Sunday camp and get fish, put out net, ate our
dried fish, and by hard labor got a few more

(20:51):
for supper. Only a bit of bread a day now,
no grease, save a little bacon. All hungry for flour
and meat. Sunday, August ninth, raining this morning and most
of the cold east wind cut about forty five trout
by hard effort, several three quarters pound each. George made paddle,
went scouted, burned his knife. Monday, August tenth, rain and
east wind cut one big fish before breakfast. Wallace ate it.

(21:14):
George and I eat pemeal. On first portage found old
summer cuttings in wigwam poles. Feel sure that this was
the old Monteney route. Went three miles and crossed four portages. Then,
on strength of being on right road and kneading fish
camped before noon. Mother's birthday, ate some of her dried
apples last night with sugar. Tuesday, August eleventh, east wind, warmer,
a little, just a little rain, no fish biting. Slept late,

(21:37):
climbed ridge into tree see ridge of high half barren
hills away ahead. Take this the ridge east to Michigamal.
Hungry all the time down to forty pounds of flour,
eight pounds tea, about twenty pounds pe meal, a bit
of sugar, bacon, baking powder, and dried apple, just a
bit of rice. Some mountains ahead from a bluff just
below our evening camp, river runs north, apparently it must.

(21:59):
Therefore below northwest river, I think mountains look high and rugged,
ten to twenty five miles away. Ought to get good
view of country from there, and to get caribou and
bear moccasins all rotten and full of holes. Kneed caribou,
kneed bear for grease. All hungry all day. George weak wallace, ravenous, lean,
gaunt in a bit weak myself. Fish braced us wonderfully. Wednesday,

(22:20):
August twelfth, best day of trip. Started late, cloudy damp.
I took pack over half mile portage and stopped to
fish fourteen trout three portages and then glory open water
five miles and stopped for lunch with good water before
and behind for first time since Grand Lake. Old Wigwaman
broken down canoe at lunch place, eat trout and loaf
of bread. Hungry, started again hoping for stream to fish in.

(22:43):
Made three miles, then a big bull cariboo splushed into
the water of a bayou two hundred yards ahead. Ballas
and bow took shot high and to the left. I
raised sights to limit and held high. Did not think
of sport but grub and was therefore cool. At first shot.
George said good, you hit him. He started to sink,
but walked up a bank very slowly. I shot two
more times. Wallace once and missed George and died. Lind

(23:04):
And started towards spot. Found cariboo down trying to rise,
shot him in breast, cut throat. George made stage for drying.
Wallace and I dressed cariboo. Wallace put up tent. I
started meat from bones and good strips to dry. Then
all sat down and roasted steak on sticks and drank
coffee and were supremely happy. We will get enough dried
meat to give us a good stock. Thursday, August thirteenth

(23:26):
worked at getting caribou skin tanned in a m eat
steak for breakfast, liver for dinner, ribs for supper. No bread,
just meat. Wallace and I started in canoe to look
for fish and explore a bit found rapid two miles above,
very short, good portage old wigwam good water ahead, two
colds to fish. Cloudy day, but got blankets, aired and dried.
River seems to run northeast of ridge of quite high mountains,

(23:48):
six to ten miles ahead. Very tired or lazy today,
Maybe meat diet, maybe relaxation for months of high tension.
Think the latter mended pants, one leg torn clear down
the front, pass a piece of flour sack. Friday, August fourteenth,
George and Wallace left in canoe with tin cups, tea
and some Caribou ribs to scout river above and climb hills.

(24:09):
I put some ashes and water on cariboo skin just
starting to shed. Studied map and Lowe's book. Wish we
could descend this river on way out and map it. Saturday,
August fifteenth, cloudy again this morning sprinkle or two. Wallace
and George not back. Wallas and George came at dusk,
tired out and unto hopeful. Found stream coming from a
little lake with two inlets. Followed one west, two mountains.

(24:30):
I turned to a brook ending in mountains. All they
went so much east they feared ends in lakes there.
Think maybe they lost the river. Hungry as bears stay
out to explore this East's branch. The three days in
action and their story of doubtful river depressed me. If
the way to Michigana was still so doubtful after more
than four weeks of backbreaking work, when will we get there?
And went to the Cariboo grounds and went home. I'd

(24:51):
like to be home tonight and see my girl unto
the people, and eat some bread and real sweet coffee
or tea or chocolate. How hungry I am for bread
and sweets. Sunday, August sixteenth, wind has changed at last
to north, not much of it clear and bright and
early morning clouded at noon, so I am not sure
my observation was just right close to it, though I
think fifty three degrees forty six minutes thirty seconds have

(25:12):
been coming nearly west in an angle to south and
another to north. Last observation possibles two weeks ago. Today.
Feel fine today, good rest and good weather, and grub
Or boy figured that east branch the boys saw must
be Low's northwest river. I must break through the mountains
somewhere a little north. Anyway, it can't run much east
and must take us north and west to lake expansions
close to the mountains. Then if it ends, it's up

(25:34):
to us to port it over to the lake expansions.
Low seasons northwest River flowing out of Michigan now scraped
flesh from Cariboo skin. Monday, August seventeenth, temp at four
thirty a m. Forty nine degrees temp. Noon fifty nine
degrees ice on cups, first of season, beautiful, clear day,
north wind slight flies bad. In p M went west
of north three miles following river to where it began

(25:55):
to expand into lakes. Noon observation fifty three degrees forty
three minutes nineteen seconds. Yesterday's observation wrong. I think in
a m fist few minutes at foot of short rapids
about forty trout once sixteen inches long, biggest yet cut,
most on fins, ate all for noon lunch, stopping at
sand beach on shore a very pretty little lake expansion
had coffee too. In p M we turned west into

(26:16):
some long narrow lakes that extend into mountains and have
a current coming out. George and Wallace think from a
previous look that here is a portest trail to Michigan
Mao Southeast Bay. George explored while worked at skin George
returned no good so far as he saw to cross here,
but he did not do the thing thoroughly. However, I'll
let it drop, for I believe the river goes east
and north and then west and Breakston Mountains to Michigan.

(26:38):
Maw worried some time shortened way not clear, but we'll
get there if we have to take the canoe apart
and walk across. May have to stay late on the
George and have to snow shoot to northwest River and
then across, but if it comes to that, will do it.
This snowshoot to Northwest River and then across to the
Saint Lawrence by Kennemann and Saint Augustine rivers appeals to me.
Lots of old wigwams about summer and winter. Stove was

(26:58):
used in one. I think indians hunted here. Caribou tracks
on Barren Mountains. Tuesday, August eighteenth, Temper twenty eight degrees
at four a m. Clear sky in morning. Much worried
last night and this morning about way to michiganow started early,
ready to go at the job, harder than ever. Lake
expansions rapids, no sign of indians afraid. This is a
bad stretch which Indians avoided. Stopped at ten a m

(27:21):
for Tea caught fourteen big trout there in a few minutes.
Then river opened into long narrow lakes and the going
was buoy It turned west, or we did. It came
from the west and went into the mountains, and we
fairly shouted for joy. George saw cariboo, turned out to
be geese, chased to head them on bank, shot old
goose as she lay low on water, swimming and hiding,
broke old one's wing and shook off leg, then missed

(27:43):
four shots. Ginder took to woods. George took after young
and Coldlon with pistol came. It helped get wounded goose.
Great chase trout pounders jumping like greedy hogs to fly.
Took about fifty well. Boys were making two short portages
in p m bread, small loaf, coffee, sugar, goose, trout
for supper, big feet in celebration, geese and good water.
And end of to day's course turned right into wrong

(28:04):
channel into a little narrow lake half mile long. Prettiest
I ever saw Big Barren Bluff rises from water on
North Barren Mountains a few miles to west ridge of
green to west, sun setting and faces to contrast and
to darken. Two loons laughing, Two otters swimming in lake.
One seemed a frayed and dived, other more bold. Looked
at us. Hope to cull it a subtle question of species,

(28:25):
but did not get near enough good water ahead hope.
We are on the road to Michikamau. Wednesday, August nineteenth
noon fifty three degrees fifty minutes, bright clear in a
m southeast wind brought clouds. Began to rain as we
went to bed. Spentful day river hunting, paddling from arm
to arm of the lakes. George and Ike climbed high
barren ridge, red berries and a few blueberries found Charmigan rockers.

(28:49):
I shot three with pistol old one too young, but
could fly. Saw more mountains on all sides, many lakes
to east. Failure to find river very depressing to us.
All seems to end in this chain of lakes. Will
retrace our way to last rapid to be sure, and
failing to find stream, will start west of a creek
valley on a long portace to Michigan. Maw boys ready
for it. I fear it will make us late, but
see no other way. Glad Wallace and Georgia a game

(29:11):
A quitter in the crowd would be fierce. There's August
twentieth rain last night cloudy in a m rain p
M at night wind south. Stopped to mend mucasins and
give caribou, but more drying for we start to cross mountains.
Looked ahead and saw two more lakes. May be a
good deal of lake to help us. Mended muccasins with
raw cariboo skin. While George got lunch. I took sixteen
trout fin for bait in p M. Walls and I

(29:34):
took a canoe and went back over course to last rapid,
exploring see that we had not missed river. Sure now
we have not, So it's cross mountains or bust Michigan
Ou or bust Wallace and I came upon two old
loons and too young. Old tried to call us from
young latter dived like fish, caught one, let it go again.
We caught eighty one trout at last rapid in about
an hour, mostly half pounders fifteen about pounders hung to

(29:57):
smoke big feed for supper, rest for tomorrow. Rained a
good deal sat under drying stage, a little fire topallen
over us at head, big supper, fried trout, fried row,
loaf of bread, coffee, last of coffee. Hate to see
it go, little sugar left a bit in morning and
evening cups. Friday, August twenty first rain all day, wind
changed north, colder, portash to little lake above camp. Found

(30:20):
wigwams at each end of portage looks like old Monteney trail.
Then more lakes and short portages made four miles very easily.
Then after pot of tea in big trout feed, portaged
one mile west to a not a little lake just
over height of land. Our stream tumbles off the mountains
and does not come from this last named lake at all.
Little four foot ridge turns. It went into camp very early,
chilled through Saturday, August twenty second, portaged to cross height

(30:43):
of land, delighted to find an end of lake to westward.
Many Indian signs believe this under southeast Bay of Michikamau
or a lake connected with it. Rained hard by spells
west wind. Campton Island early in p m after a
very short march to repair a canoe and to wait
for headwind to fall. Caribou meet roasted at new two
loaves of bread, dried apples and tea, no meter fish supper. Sunday,

(31:05):
August twenty third, west wind, rained, clear by spells, dray,
last of chocolate, two pots for breakfast, dried blankets, and
a sunny spell. And about ten a m started coming
to point round, which we expected to get view of
lake ahead, like going into a room where there was
a Christmas tree, said George. Narrow Channel around point two
and a half miles from east end. Thence we saw
a long stretch of lake running west. Believe it Michikamau's

(31:28):
southeast Bay shore, mighty glad eight boiled dried caribou, pea soup, tea,
dried caribou hurts our teeth badly, went west two and
a half miles and clammed Barren Hill on north side
of lake. Eight blueberries, big apple berries and moss berries
saw on north water and big and little masses also
on northwest. Many islands of drift, rocky and spruce clad.

(31:48):
One long stretch of lake like a river runs east
and west about two miles north. Wonder if it is
Low's northwest river wet west on our lake three miles
cut a fish like pike with big square head three
and a half pounds found lake ends stream falling in
from Latta Lake west. Came back to milest outlet into
waters north camped all field bully on Mushikamau Water's shore. Monday,

(32:10):
August twenty fourth, rain, north wind, cold, in camp all day,
bad head wind. George and I scouted all restless at inactivity.
But George he calm, philosophical, cheerful and hopeful, always a
wonderful man. Tuesday, August twenty fifth, cold northeast wind, rain
made start nasty portage into northwest river. Wallas turned round

(32:30):
and started to carry his pack back. Wind fair part
of time, part of time dangerously heavy. Landed on point
running out from north shore Wigwam poles have diarrhea, all chilled,
not sure of way ahead, but not worried. Camped at
five p m. Nice camp at clump of balsam, not
craving bread. So much idleness and a chance to think
make us hungrier. Flies about gone proverb on a wet day,

(32:52):
build a big fire. Wednesday, August twenty sixth, temp at
five a m. Forty degrees bright and clear, safe for
one shower in PM. Started happy, chocked goose with pistol.
After a long chase, goose would dive repeatedly, shot several
times at rather long range. Paddled twenty to twenty five
miles on Big Lake, running east and west, no outlet. West.
Came back blue and discouraged. Pasted our camp of last

(33:13):
night to clam A Mountain on northeast side. Contrary pretty
two pound pike trolling whils and I got supper. George
went to Clam Mountain. Found river this side west of
mountain running into this lake from northwest. What is it
low's northwest river? Can't see what else? Glad again, very hopeful,
sick and very weak diarrhea. Themeal and venison and goose
liquor better. Bright northern lights Thursday, August twenty seventh, bright

(33:37):
and lightly clouded by spells. No rain, Northwest river penned
out only a little stream. Ng guess we must portage
desperate late in season and no way to Michigamal. One
more trif inlet and then a long nasty portage for
the Big Lake. See little hope now of getting out
before winter. Must live off country and take big chances
camping nearer we kempt last night, going up northwest river

(33:58):
and hunting outlets. Took our time. Ran across geese this
a m so I went ashore and George and Wallace
chased them close by shoppleader with rifle. Then two young
ones head close inshore. I killed one with pistol, when
two others started to flop away on top of water,
missed one with pistol and killed other. While exploring a
bait in northwest we landed to climb ridge. George found
three partridges. I shot one, wounded another pistol. Camped to night,

(34:22):
cheerful but desperate, all firm for progress to Michikamau, all
willing to try a return in winter. Discussed it tonight
from all sides. Must get a good place for fish
and caribou, and then freeze up. Makes no shoes and
tobogguns and moccasins, and go lead home, and they will
worry hungry for bread, pork and sugar. How I like
to think at night of what I'll eat when I
get home, and what a quiet, RESTful time I'll have.

(34:43):
Flies bad by spells to day, Friday, August twenty eighth,
temperature six a m fifty six degrees back to northwest
end of lake where bay runs north, portage to small
shoal lakes and kempt on north side, ready to start
an am fixed moccasins in preparation for long portage. Made
observation of sun moon tonight, hoping you get longitude. All
very tired, but feel better now. No bread to day,

(35:05):
no sugar, don't miss latter much, but hungry for bread.
Good weather shower or two. Writing by camp fire, Saturday,
August twenty ninth, Temp. Six a m thirty eight degrees.
I'm writing a starter here before beginning our march north
while it's into Georgia at breakfast now I'm not sick
of goose and don't want it. Eat my third of
a loaf of bread, lumpy, without grease and soggy, but
like Hiler's bon bonds to our hungry palates. Dreamed of

(35:28):
being home last night and hated to wake. Jumped up
at first light, called boys and built fire and put
on kettles. We must be moving with more ginger. It
is a nasty feeling to see the days slipping by
and note the sun's lower declination, and still not know
our way Outlet hunting is hell on nerves, temper, and equanimity.
You paddle miles and miles into bay after bay, bay
after bay with maybe no results to you or hopeless Uugh.

(35:50):
This is a great relief to be about to start
north through the woods, fairly high ground to start with
on a hunt for Michikamal. Hope we will not have swamps,
lakes will probably stop us, make us bring up the canoe.
Good evening and we are happy despite the fact that
grub is short and we don't know our way and
all that. Sunday, August thirtieth, beautiful clear Sunday, but no
Sunday rest for us. I jumped up early, called George

(36:11):
and built fire. Started at five fifty four a m
portaging from little Lake to the lake north and west
to where we know Michiganal must lie somewhere. For two
days we have heard geese flying, thought our goose chase
is over. But to day five walked down bank or
to water ahead of canoe on a small lake. Wounded
two at one shot with rifle. Two old ones flew
left wounded to chase the third, young one shot and

(36:32):
killed it with pistol. Could not find wounded, made three
miles before dinner good in PM. About one and a
quarter miles more. Then reached range of semi barren ridges
running east and west and seeming to reach the barren
mountains north. George and I climbed first ridge from a
little lake with blue green ocean colored water. Heard stream ahead,
little river running through ponds. George went back for outfit

(36:53):
and wallace. These are trying days. We are not quite
up to normal strength. I think too much routine of diet, lack, grease,
stuggar and grain foods. The feeling of not knowing where
we are or how to get out adds to our weakness. Still,
we are all cheerful and hopeful and without fear, glad
all of us to be here. How we will appreciate
home and grub when we get out. I crawl into
blankets while the boys smoke their evening pipe. Then I

(37:14):
think of Em and our home at Conger's and plant
how she and I will go to Canada or Michigan
or somewhere for a two weeks vacation When I get home,
I wonder when that will be. Monday, August thirty, first
ice un cups this morning, the morometer out of order.
Latter two at fifty three degrees fifty seven minutes. I
hate to see August end with us so far from
the George River, or so perplexed as to the road.

(37:34):
We are in camp now on the stream we reached
last night. I am writing and figuring in the early morning.
The whole character of our country changes here, bridges and
hills extending into mountains on the north. Must know what
lies there before we proceed. George will scout walls and
I will dry fish. While George was scouting, I lay intent,
too weak to fish even fish not biting though, O.
But I'll be happy to see michiganaw. George returned late

(37:57):
climb mountains to north. Reports fer liner travels northwest, long
lakes and tolerable portridges. We'll go that way. I think
Wallace got a few trout. George kilt two partridges with
my pistol. Tuesday, September first, west wind fair warm, very
weak today, our stuff so light. Now we can take
all but canoe at one trip over portage. I've just
crossed portage from lake by yesterday's camp to other lakelet

(38:19):
Northwest boys gone back for canoe. I sit here and
write very rough portaging here all rocks and knolls, little
clear lakes between. Have to put canoe into water every
forty rods or so. Shot a plover with pistol to
cook with George's partridges. Later made about four and a
half miles, cut about thirty five trout at edged Lake
for a stream empties. Wednesday, September second west wind fixed

(38:41):
muck sins and am a start at portage west Kempton Swamp.
Thursday September third, rain all day by spells wind west
got up in rain, hitting to leave blankets at breakfast,
bread and tea and venison. I took no tea. I'm
trying now just venison and fish broth may agree with
me better than tea. Don't mistugger much anymore, though I
do play a little sweet feeds when I am out.
Very nasty work in rain and well again and strong,

(39:04):
worked well, portaged and paddled west four and a half
miles Wallace turned round again and carried pack back to
starting point. George and I carried canoe sky cleared an
evening saw all day. Big spruce trees country here not burned,
I think. Friday, September fourth rain west wind ported west
one and a half miles with who little lakes to
help rain all time stops to let George scout best

(39:27):
way to big Lake ahead. Think it is three miles away.
Hope it leads to Michikamau. George and Wallace mending moccasins.
George reports big water about three miles ahead. Hope Low's
Northwest River lake expansions cannot be far now from Michikamau.
Spend much time over map in p M. Think we
must start back first October to the Saint Lawrence if
we can get guides. Otherwise northwest River and then snowshoe

(39:48):
out Saturday, September fifth, rain by spells, west wind, cold,
awoke in rain. Last three nights have been as clear
as crystal beautiful moon. Then rain in the morning very disappointing.
Waited a little while about getting up, hoping rain would stop. Slackened,
and we started poor day's work. Portaged about two and
a half miles west. Came out on barrens and ate
a lot of blueberries, saw big waters to west, big

(40:11):
blue hill, blue sky line where we hope Michigan Mao
lies hidden pint berries raw for supper. Otherwise Venison and
broth thickened with three spoonfuls of flour each meal. Sunday,
September sixth, temp. Five a m. Thirty eight degrees. First
snow came mixed with nasty cold rain, nasty raw west
wind worked in it most of day. Portaging two and
a half miles northwest. Tried carrying all stuff in one trip.

(40:34):
Grow blow big water ahead. Believe this big water will
lead to Michigan Mau almost a desperate hope. If it
does not. When we find no water root, I scarcely
see how we can reach the Cariboo grounds in time
to see the crossing and wheatness copies. Without that, I
am doubtflowed. The success of this trip and failure to
mix me shudder. Besides, it is liable to make us
all very hungry. We must push on harder, that's all,
and get there somehow. Monday, September seventh, temp. At five

(40:56):
a m. Forty eight degrees northwest wind slight rain by showers.
On portage, crossed worst swamp of trip into my knees
and fell down with heavy pack on my back. Floundered
out in nasty shape. Found small stream flowing northwest toward
our big water I caught about thirty trout, not big,
while Wallace and drawers brought up outfit and canoe by stream,
very slow work, all very hungry in p m. Stopped

(41:18):
for pot of soup, found it getting dark and stopped
to camp. Last meal of venison in bag, must get fish.
Eat half our trout to night, boiled and thickened with flour, dry,
last bit of cocoa, no sugar, but was not scared.
No talk of quitting. Don't just see where we are
coming out. Tuesday, September eighth, cold, raw, northwest wind, no rain,
partly clear observation noon fifty four degrees one minute twenty

(41:42):
one seconds. Aired and dried blankets followed, streamed down to
very shoal bay of our Big Water, which, like the
will of the wisp, has led us on only ten trout,
mostly small, weather too raw, very depressing to have it
so when meat is out on to caribou grounds as
the watchword, gave up trouting and started west on our
big Lake. Stopped to climb mountain ate some cranberries. Saw

(42:03):
a few old caribou tracks big Mountain to west of
US Islands or something between. Many low flat wooded Wednesday,
September ninth, big day, warm, clear, temperature five a m.
Twenty nine degrees, icing cups. Slept without sweater or socks
last night cold, but slept well. Beautiful, cold, crisp morning
up at first dawn inspiring this good weather. George boiled

(42:24):
a little bacon and rice together and a little flower
but sort of porridge for breakfast. Very very good, no
fish or game ahead. Went to Big Hill muched yesterday.
George and I walked about four miles and back, getting
to its top through spruce burnings. Awful walking, very tired
when about to top, wandering about next meal and thinness
of soup, mostly to blame, I guess. Then things began
to get good. First we ran across a flock of

(42:47):
ten ptarmigan. They were in the burned over semi barren
of the hilltop. They seemed to lack entirely the instinct
to preserve themselves by flying, only ran ahead, squatting an
apparent terror every two feet. We followed with our pistols.
I killed eight and George t one. My last was
the old bird which were tick cupped away from us,
running harder than the rest, trying to hide among the
arctic shrubs, George says, they are always tame on a

(43:08):
calm day. Their wings are white, but the rest is
summer's garb. Not rockers, but the real kind, says George.
Then we went on across the mountain top and looked west.
There was michigamo and that's what made it a big day.
A series of lake expansions runs east from it. We
can see them among flat drift islands, cedar covered and
aer ridge south, and a hill on the highlands north,
and apparently a little river coming from the north and

(43:30):
pouring into the lake expansions. Some miles east of Michikamau.
There is one main channel running east and south in
this expansion. It is north of the waters we are
now in, and we can see no connection. However, the
looks as if there might be one about five miles
east of our big hill, behind some barren ridges about
fifty feet high. So we are making for them to
see what we can find. If no connection, we must portage,

(43:50):
but we will not mind a little portage now with
Michigamao waters just over it. Westward from our hill are
dozens of little lakes and a good deal of low
burned land southeast More Lakes must be an easy portage
from the lakes on which we were muddled two weeks ago.
That's where we missed it in not finding that portage. Thursday,
September tenth, wind west, cloudy, temperature five a m forty

(44:11):
six degrees rain and evening. Cut legs from old drawers
and full them over pants as leggings. Went east looking
for opening in northwest river. Think we saw it in
ridge to northeast, came southwest. Believe that we saw also
opening into Michigamao's Bay, which runs out of lake on
southeast side. Wind delayed, and we only got a foot
of Manton, from which we expect to see it. Camped.
Rain commenced while scouting. I shot a large spruce partridge

(44:32):
with pistol. Friday, September eleventh, raining in morning wind, southwest temp.
Forty nine degrees eight. Last meal the mother's sweet dried apples.
We are on the Virgil success apparently, and sat at
Michigana Mau, from which it is not far to the
caribou grounds and the nascopies get We are sick at
heart at this long delay and the season's lateness, and
our barefoot condition, yet no one hints at turning back.

(44:52):
We could do so and catch fish and eat our meal,
for we know the way to an easy walking distance
of Grand Lake, but the boys are game. If we
only had a fished ap we would be okay. My
plan is to get a few fish if possible, push
on at once to Michikamau, somehow get to the George
River and find them escapies. Then if the Caribou migration
is not over, we will kill some of the animals,
drive them up, and get as far back as possible

(45:12):
for freezing up and leaving the canoe. Then, unless we
can get someone to show us to the Saint Lawrence,
we will probably go to Northwest River Post, get dogs
in provisions, and snowshoe southwest to Natashquan or some such point.
If we don't get to the Cariboo grounds in time,
well we'll have to get some fish ahead or use
our pemeal in a dash for the George River each
b SA post. After breakfast, George and I went in
rain to clam Mountain no water into southwest Bay of

(45:35):
our lake. As we hoped trolling back, caught one small lammykush.
Then we all started to hunt for a rapid we
heard on the south side of this lake. Cut one
two and a half pound lameykush. Found rapid, good sized
stream falling in from south. Big hopes, but too shoal
and rapid, no pools, only one massive trout, very much disappointed.
While Wallace and I fish, George gone to troll. When

(45:56):
he gets back, we will go to look for inlet
into Low's northwest river. Finding that will strot on a
portage for it in the morning. Later by campfire. Weather
has cleared all bright and starry cut seven pont dummy
cush and so we eat Tonight, Saturday, September twelfth, temper
sure thirty eight degrees high, northwest wind, cloudy and clear
by spells dashes of snow. We came on a little

(46:17):
island not far from the northeast mainland where we hope
inlet is. Just at dusk. Eight big nummy cushions were
ready to push on early this morning two meals of trout.
Ahead awoke this am to find awful gales during the
lake to fury no leaving Wallas and I stayed intent mending.
I made a pair of moccasins out of a pair
of seal muttens and some old sacking patched a pair
of socks with duffel. Not comfortable, but we'll do. George

(46:40):
went to canoe, who get fish? That's too bad? Said he?
What I asked, somebody's taken the trout? Who don't know?
Otter or cockajoo maybe? And sure enough they were gone
our day's grub. We all laughed. There was nothing else
to do, so we had some thin soup made with
three thin slices of bacon in a big pot of
water and just a bit of flour and rice stirred in.
One felt rather hungrier after eating it, but then we

(47:00):
did not suffer or a good week. It is very
disappointing to be delayed like this, but we can only
make the most of it and wait. No game or
fish on this island, and no hopes of getting off
till it. Colmbs. So we are cheerful and make the
most of a good rest and a chance to mend,
and we need both, though perhaps we need progress more. Sunday,
September thirteenth, temp. Thirty nine degrees five a m high
northwest wind in am clear rain, sleep by spells heavy

(47:22):
wind continued this a m. Some more rice and bacon
soup for breakfast, read philemail aloud and told story of
it also first and ninety first psalms. Found blueberries and
all eat At about one o'clock. Wind dropped somewhat. We
started to hunt outland at the Northwest River, supposed to
be northeast of island. No good shot at goose misst
hooked big nummy cush lost it. Caught another six pounds,

(47:45):
ate it for lunch about four p m. Picked gallon
of cranberries, ate it, pots two to little flour for supper.
Enough for two meals. Left. Not very satisfactory, but lots
better than nothing. Sat long by camp fire, Monday, September fourteenth, temp.
Forty degrees five a m. West, wind clear in showers
by spells. Very much disappointed to find heavy gale blowing.
Could not leave shore. Had breakfast of very thin soup,

(48:07):
then all slept till nearly noon. I dreamed again of
being home, hungry all day. George and I had decided
that we must not start this way home before freezing up.
Time might get caught again by bad winds. Better freeze
on the George River with the Indians, save grub if
we get any and then snowshoe clear out later by
camp fire, hard to keep off depression. Tonight, wind continues
and all hungry. Tuesday, September fifteenth, temperature thirty one degrees

(48:29):
five a m west wind, spits of sleet and fair
wind continued hard all day. Could not leave shore. I
lay awake all last night thinking over situation. George's worried
and talks of Indians who starve. Tries to be cheerful
but finds it hard. Here we are wind bound, long
way from Michigamal, no hopes of wind, debating the Caribou
migration is due to begin, yet we can't start, and

(48:50):
are at least two weeks from their grounds with no
grub and no prospect of good weather. Our grub is
eighteen pounds female to be held for emergency and two
pounds of flour one pint rice three poundunt to bacon
to go on. A certain failure to reach the Cariboo
killing and probable starvation. If we turn back, we must
stop and get grub, then cross our long portage, then
hunt more grub, and finally freeze out preparatory to a

(49:10):
sled dash for a northwest river that will make us
late for boat, but we can snow shoe to the
Saint Lawrence. All this, with what we have done so far,
will make a bully story. I don't see anything better
to do, I asked Wallace. He opposed and then said
it was best. I said to George, would you rather
go on or turn back? I came to go with you,
and I want to do what you do. When I
said we will turn back, he was very greatly pleased.

(49:31):
Now my job is to get the party back to
Northwest River, getting grub as we go. We will take
the back track to some good fishing grounds, catch fish,
try to kill a caribou, and wait for freeze. We
can't take the canoe down then a scapi, hence the
need of freezing. Stayed in camp all day, could not
launch canoe, no place to fish or hunt. Feel better
now that the decision is made. Eat very thin rice
and bacon soup, and drank tea long chat with Wallace.

(49:53):
Feeling good in spite of short grub. George is telling
again how he will visit his sister at Flying Post
and what he will eat. We are talking of plans
for our home going and are happy despite impending hunger. Wednesday,
September sixteenth, Temper twenty nine degrees six a m. Wind
northwest shifting to northeast. Little rain moved to rapid on
south shore, where there was some trout fishing and hard
place to be wind bound. Must fish a few days

(50:14):
and get grub ahead for all long portage back to
Namaycush Lake. Eat last bit of bacon at noon, cut
in three pieces and boiled with rice and a little flour.
Boys trolled in p M. I made camp and fished
brook too cold, they lost too good Nummay Cush. I
took two ten inch trout, boiled these into a mush,
and put last handful of rice and a little flour
into pot with them. Good soup made us feel stronger. Thursday,

(50:36):
September seventeenth, temp thirty three degrees six a m. Rained
all last night in all this p M. For breakfast
a whisky jack stewed with flour and about two spoonfuls
of herbs. Worst good balls and I each had half
a bird. If we get enough fish to take us
across this portage, our pemale and what fish we can
get on river will see us to the post. Hoping
weather we'll improve so we can make a good haul.
Disheartening and extreme to be working all the time in

(50:58):
rain and wind and cold. I made a map this
am of our long portage, about thirty miles. We'll require
about seven days. Wallacen't I stretched trap hollen by fire
and sat long beneath its chatting. Wallace is a great
comfort these evenings. There's been no friction this trip whatever.
I think I'll get a bully story out of it,
despite our failure to find than us copies. I'll get
more in freezing up, more in northwest river people, and

(51:19):
more in the winter journey to God's Country. Friday, September
eighteenth teenp thirty eight degrees six a ms southeast wind
turning to northwest gale about noon, raw and snow by
spells cut three now my cushion a m then wind
bound by fierce northwest gale. At Camp Wallace, caught two
and a half pounds trout. I caught one pound now
my cush heads and guts in my trout for supper,

(51:39):
boiled with last of flour. Hungry and a bit weak,
but all cheerful, sat late by roaring camp fire. Very depressing.
This getting wind bound so often just when we are
trying to get fish ahead for a long portage towards home.
I thought a good deal about home. It seems to
me I'll never be willing to leave it again. I
don't believe I'll want any more trips. Too hard for
m to share. Her companionship and our home life are
better than a great trip, so it seems to me. Saturday,

(52:02):
September nineteenth, rain and snow last night, temp thirty two degrees,
gale from northwest all day, wind bound in camp all day,
lay intent almost all the time, spits of snow, no breakfast,
bit of fish and his liquor for lunch, same with
a dash of pe meal at night. Oh to be
away from this lake and its gales, and to be
started home. Last night we quit rolling in blankets and
made bed to keep warm. All three crawled in warmer

(52:23):
than other, away quite comfortable all night. Plan a great
deal for the future. I am planning to give more
time to home, last fighting and more home life. I've
let my ambitions worry me. More time for my meals
when I get home, and more for my wife and
our friends. I want to give one or two little
dinners in the woods when we get back and while
George's there a trucky roast like a goose, stuffed potatoes

(52:44):
bannocks made while the trucky is roasting one o George's puddings,
coffee and maple cream. Sunday, September twentieth, Temp. Six a m.
Twenty nine degrees morning, bright and clear light, northwest wind
showers in p m squally to night. We are starting
for Northwest River Post. When we reached the Big River,
we can I think nearly live on the fish we
get there. From there too, there are more signs of caribou.

(53:04):
About four days more. We ought to be to a
remnant of the flower we threw away. It was wet
and lumpy, but we will welcome it now. It, if
it is usable, will see us to the head of
Grand Lake, where Skipper Blake has a cash. I think
in a winter hunting shanty promises to be a hungry trip,
but it is a man's game. Now that we are
starting home, I am content with the trip. Under the material.
We've done all we could. Our minds turned to home
even more, and we are anxious to be back, so

(53:26):
hungry to see all the old friends. Tuesday, September twenty second,
temp thirty eight degrees northwest wind, rain and morning and
buy spells all day. All feel stronger today than yesterday.
Tried to stock goose in bad swamp, missed a long range,
waited above knees and mud and water to get shot.
Portaged all day mostly through low or swampy ground. Happy
to be going home. Kept night on second old camping ground.

(53:48):
George and Wallace brought up outfit while I made camp
and got wood. Wednesday, September twenty third, rain by spells,
west wind, clear and evening and cold. Portaged all day,
crossed barren ridge, had big feet of musberries and berries.
Boss had apparent tea sickness and vomited herb's worst. Same
as yesterday. Feel quite weak to night, had carried canoe
a good deal, a good deal, depressed till camp fire,

(54:09):
then good again, bright crisp night, dried clothing and got warm,
talked long by fire of home, blankets, very damp, hard
time keeping warm at night. There'say. September twenty fourth, temp
twenty eight degrees northeast, wind, snowing and morning. Quite cold
last night, but clear and crysp till toward morning when
it snowed blankets very damp, but by drying clothes that
fire and getting good and warm, was left warm and

(54:30):
well dreamed. Amm and I were at miss An Abbey.
How I do wish I could see her again at home?
Thinking too much? Maybe about home now mixed too big contrast.
Snow covered ground by noon, disagreeable morning, but a little
crisp woodfriness helped it. Some plodded along on a pea
soup breakfast, wondering what the outcome will be, a little
nasty weather makes one wonder, and thinking of em and home.

(54:50):
Then came a happy event. George said last night he
could kill a wild goose. This I am if I'll
let him take rifle. Did so, half convest by his
confidence and knowing he was a big goose strooter. Down
on the bay. He had started to head, had seen
flock flight and pond ahead while sun I heard four shots.
Came to where George had left pack. He was coming
with no goose. You can kick me, he said, but
I've got a goose. We took a canoe to his pond.

(55:11):
He had killed one goose which was drifting ashore, and
mooded another which sat on shore. And let George end
it with a pistol. Never was Goose more gladly received.
I'll a venture. I promised George two cookbooks and a
dinner as a reward. Friday, September twenty fifth, temp. Twenty
eight degrees wind, northeast, snow squalls, half goose breakfast, pea
soup thin for dinner, half goose supper. Goose's boy went

(55:32):
down eating. We burned the bones and chew them. Nasty day.
Portaged to old camp on small lake and stopped all day.
I have been thinking about childhood things in the country.
I want to get in touch with it again. I
want to go to Kenda if possible. For Christmas, I
want to go somewhere in sugar making so homesick for
my sweetheart. Fairly strong despite short grub. Saturday September twenty sixth, temp.
Twenty eight degrees wind, northeast rain in early morning, cold wind,

(55:56):
warming in eight p m clearer at midday. Dried blankets.
Traveled over our our old course to our long lake
that looks like a river. Shot a large duck's head
off with the rifle. Had hopes of a few fish
at the place where we found them. Spawning on our
westward way, but was fearful of the cold, left George
cooking and went to try with Wallace's rod. Not over
hopeful as water was very high and weather cold. Delighted
to catch twenty very fair ones while lunch was cooking

(56:18):
in PM. Took ninety five more estimated weight to catch
seventy pounds. We will stay here tomorrow on dry fish
for journey. This is a wonderful relief. It means enough
fish to put us through to our big lake, or
nearly so. We had no hopes of such a catch
and would have been delighted with just a meal or two.
Then it means I hope that we will find the
trout biting and other spawning places. I catch enough to
live on in spite of the cold weather. We are

(56:39):
happier than for weeks before, for we believe this almost
guarantees our safe return home. Rain drove us for our
camp fire just after George had declared, now we'll talk
about French toast and what will eat when we get
to New York. So we all crawled into blankets and
did plan and plan good dinners. Sunday, September twenty seventh,
warm day, partly clear wind southwest ate last of goose
for breakfast. Boy. Monday, September twenty eighth, snow went clear

(57:02):
by spells. Stayed in camp to rest and feed up.
We're all weak as cats. When we were relaxed from
the grub strain, we kept smoke going under stage and
lay intent most of day. Boiled fish for breakfast, roast,
smoked fish for other meals. Like them rather better the
latter way. Tuesday, September twenty ninth, temper twenty four degrees,
snow by squalls all day, wind west caught twelve good

(57:22):
trout while boys were breaking camp. Diarrhea which tacked me yesterday,
came back. When I started to carry the canoe, had
to drop it and became very weak. Boys went on
with it about one hundred quarter miles and came back.
We camped on Long Lake. I huddled by fire and
wrote when it was not snowing, we can cut up
to our schedule if I am able a travel tomorrow,
for it is only an easy march covered in less
than a day before. All talking about home, all happy

(57:44):
to be going there. Wednesday, September thirtieth, boys carried canoe
nearly to Pike Lake, while I made camp and went
back and forth three times to bring up packs. Then
happy camp near her home to night. We planned in
case we have a long wait in Saint John's to
get rooms for lighthousekeeping and not to go to a hotel.
Then we can cook what we want, nead and live
high beef bones for caribou cereals with real cream, rich

(58:04):
mussel making stews of rice, beef, et cetera, tomatoes, et cetera.
There's day October first, temp forty degrees. Crossed to Pike Lake.
This a m lunch on west side, last of fish.
Nothing now left but pemeal crossed lake, no trail on
east side. Hoping to get trout was shok a messint
outlet coming up, not a nibble, too cold or something
camped in lee of trees. Boys set feet of blueberries

(58:26):
while I fished ate half stick of herbs. Worst good
camp fire, but I rather blew on. No one talkative,
so hungry for home than fish. Far Day October second, cold,
west wind temp thirty degrees, cold, snowed a bit in
the evening. Took packs early, and they had heard a
cross the Tamarack Pole fishing place only too trout before noon,
ate them with female and boys went back for the canoe.

(58:48):
Only two days and easy ones to our big lake,
then only two days to the river with its good fishing.
That makes us feel good. It means a good piece
near her home. Saturday, October third, bright, crisp morning temp
twenty one degree snow squalls left Tamarack Pole Place and
ported south over old route, crossing lakes et cetera to
a camp at twenty ninth August on little pond. Wet
feet and cold, but not a bad day. I lugged

(59:10):
all the packs and boys canoe. Beautiful moon and clear night.
All sat late by camp fire, talking and thinking of home.
Please to have another fair march back of us happy. Sunday,
October fourth, ten to ten degrees, bright, clear, cold, a
m everything frozen in morning, pond frozen over two trout
left one for breakfast, boiled with herbs. Worst portashed to
lake about three quarter mile away, crossed it some ice

(59:32):
to annoy. George borrowed Wallace's pistol, saying he saw a partridge.
He killed four lords with us. We need him bad
and weakened, nervous, must have vacation. Wallace notices it had
not taken bath for two weeks. Ashamed of my ribs
which stick out like skeletons. Monday, October fifth, ten thirty
degrees wind, southeast, snow on the ground up late, waited

(59:52):
wallace to mend moccasins. Late start, crossed bad swamp to
big lake, waiting icy water, dried feet and drank cup soup.
Stop island in p m to get berries. I'll talk
much of home now at camp fire. George Holby have
his plans to get married and his love story. Tuesday
October sixth teenp. Forty eight degrees, rain and snow in
a m George shot partridge before breakfast, rained most of night,

(01:00:14):
started expecting to portage to lake. First west of height
of Land, got into rough sea, exciting time, found river
of considerable size, emptying into that lake, ran into it
and prepared to finish in the morning. George and I
ran on rock shooting rapid beautiful night cold, feel all cold. Wednesday,
October seventh, thermometer out of order, heavy frost ran down
river into lake west of Barren Mountain. Climbed to Scout

(01:00:37):
one day after entering lake west of height of Land,
stopped and fed well on our mos berrys and cranberries.
Took some along started height of land Portage. Happy to
be back, very thin, pea soup, breakfast, some with berries
for lunch. Week Thursday, October eighth, thermometer and g very frosty.
Dreamed last night we were going out of bush very
week and hungry. Came to our old Michigan farm and

(01:00:58):
found mother. Wonder where mother is now? Do want a
vacation at home or in Canada? Maybe we won't need it.
After ride on steamer finished height of land Portage, came
out to place where we dried caribou. Second time at
head of Termigan Lake, I caught four fish, small trout
all Wallace was going back for a rifle which he
had left at far end of small lake. Wallace came
back with partridge. This delayed us and we did not
reach good fishing. Rapid hoped to get trout there, did

(01:01:20):
catch a few before failed to night, bright crisp day too,
George very blue. In consequence, Wallace and I not worried.
Pmeal down to less than two pounds, no other food
save tea, thinking much of home and m and our
plans and old friends. I want to keep better in
touch for the relatives everywhere around the country. How I
wish for that vacation in Michigan or Canada, or a

(01:01:41):
good quiet time at Conger's. And I am aching to
write home sketches and stories that have come to my mind.
We talk much of future plans, and the camp fire
continues to be a glorious meeting place. Friday, October ninth,
reached good fishing hole at Rapid where we caught so
many trout on way up. Got about fifteen p m.
Glorious crisp fall day, dried blankets, fifteen trout, lunch, twelve supper,

(01:02:02):
then six roast before bedtime. Disappointing. Hoped for some to dry.
Only one day's slim fish ahead one and a half
pounds female. No hopes of getting ahead fish to freeze up.
Must get out to civilization, pretty weak all of us. Saturday,
October tenth, from Rapid, about half way to Camp. Cariboo
boys trout Rapids while I fished. Beautiful day till about noon,
then cloudy and cold west wind, cheerful camp fire as

(01:02:25):
always about twenty trout, nine boiled for supper, same for lunch.
Much talk of grub and restaurants and our home going,
but of George's room in New York, of good days
and congers. I want to go to Michigan and Canada
and to Wurtsboro, Oh to see my sweetheart and be
home again. Sunday, October eleventh, beautiful clear day, cold off
day for grub. George shot three times at ducks, and

(01:02:46):
I fished at rapids. No fish, no ducks, nine small trout, breakfast,
eight at lunch, no supper ahead save what George hoped
to find at Camp Cariboo. Arrived there, tired a week.
About an hour before sunset, George gathered bones and two hoofs,
pounded part of them up my goots on hoofs we
did not mind. Boiled two cuttlefuls of hoofs and bones
made a good greasy broth. We had three cupfuls each

(01:03:07):
and set about gnawing bones. Got a good deal of
grizzle from the bones and some tough hide and gristly
stuff from hoofs. I enjoyed it and felt like a
square meal ate long as it is a slow, tough job.
Saved the bones to boil over Monday, October twelfth, made
about nine miles to day, several bad rapids shot them.
George and I nearly came to grief in one my fault.
Beautiful day fished a little, but no fish. Bit hoped

(01:03:30):
to leave stream tomorrow, and that makes us happy. For breakfast.
Bones of caribouo boiled to make greasy broth, quite supply
a grease in it. Hoofs too boiled. Some grizzle to these.
That was good, strong rancid taste, but we relished it.
Roasted hard part of hoofs in fire, ate them half rubber,
half leather, but heaped better than nothing for lunch. The
same with skin from velvet horns added. Later boiled up

(01:03:51):
and was very good at night. Some bones boiled to
make broth, skin from head added part of mine. I
could eat boiled part from nose for a think. It
had to be roasted first. Good sent by camp fire
a long time, very sleepy, talked of home and friends
and grub and plans. Tuesday, October thirteenth, lightened our packs
a bit, throwing away more or less useless stuff at
old shack where we had a rainy night potter tea

(01:04:12):
at rainy Sunday camp, all very hungry and weak, camped
below rainey Sunday Camp. Tried monastica, not bad, not much
taste to it, thinking all time of home and am
and parents and congers and Wurtzborough on childhood and country. Wednesday,
October fourteenth, caribou bones boiled into broth for breakfast. Then
George shot a duck. Came back. Lord Shirley guided that bullet.
He said reverently he had killed a wonderfully fat duck.

(01:04:34):
Oh but it was good and greasy, made bully lunch
boiled and good pot of broth. Left river where we
entered it, left canoe, sextant box, artificial horizon, and my
fishing rod. Pecks still too heavy for our strength. Little progress.
Reached Old Camp where we left lakes for big river.
Hoped fishnow bites, cold east wind, big fire, all cheerful,
just bone, broth and a bit of monastica for supper.

(01:04:55):
Must lighten packs to limit count on bit of flower.
Twenty two miles from here. Here George found two old
gooseheads and some bones We left, saved them for breakfast.
All nod some charred bones. George found three tiny slices
of bacon and an old lard can. We left one
each how good they were. The scraping is of large
he melted for the broth pot. We have about one
and one six pounds pe meal left. No other grub

(01:05:16):
but tea. We think this will take us to our
bit of flour if it is still left, and Blake
has a cash. We think at the head of Grand Lake,
about twenty four miles beyond that hope to get out. Okay,
cut on berries to help us. Had some mossberries to day, Thursday,
October fifteenth. Dreamed last night, came to New York, found
em and had my first meal with her. How I
hated to find it. A dream lightened packs a good deal.

(01:05:36):
Left Wallace's rifle, cartridges, rod, my cleaning rod, my sextant,
and fifteen foams and other things cashed in bushes at
left side a little stream between two lakes. Ballas hated
to leave his rifle. I hated to leave other stuff.
Spent most of forenoon getting ready ate for breakfast. Bit
of skin from old cariboo head, boiled with bone broth
at lunch on Monteney Lake. Same the skin was from
old caribou hide which we had carried to mend. Moccasins

(01:05:58):
were almost to our second camp. We ate first goose.
When I got shaky and busted and had to stop.
Wallas came back and got my pack and I walked
to camp unloaded. In p m. George shot three partridges,
was jumped up before us in a swamp, killed them
with my pistol. Made us very happy. Ate one for supper.
Oh how good in spite of my weakness. I was
happy to night. I remember a similar happiness once after
I went to New York. I got caught in rain,

(01:06:20):
had no carfare, got soaked, spent last ten cents for
rolls and crullers, then crawled into bed to get dry
and eat, not knowing where the next meal would come from.
Talk of home, George not thinking now of eating of
recent years, but just the things his mother used to
make for him as a child. Same way with Wallace
and me. Say that I think of what Amm and
I have eaten that she made. Sunday, October eighteenth, alone
in camp, Jushin and Naskapi and some other stream estimated

(01:06:42):
overestimated I hope distance above head of Grand Lake thirty
three miles. For two days past we have traveled down
our old trail with light packs. We left a lot
of flour wet about eleven miles below here, twelve miles
approximately below that, about a pound of milk powder four
miles below that, about four pounds of lard. We counted
on all these help us out in our effort to
reach the head of Grand Lake, where we hoped to

(01:07:02):
find Skipper Tom Blake's trapping camp and cash. On Thursday,
estated I busted. Friday and Saturday it was the same.
I saw it was probably useless for me to try
to go farther with the boys. So we consoled last
night and decided they should take merely half a blanket each,
socks et cetera, some tea, tea, pail cups, and the pistols,
and go on. They will try to reach the flower tomorrow.
Then Wallas will bring a little and come back to me.

(01:07:24):
George will go on to the milk and lard and
to Skipper Blake if he can, and send or lead
help to us. I want to say here that they
are two of the very best, bravest and grandest men
I ever knew, and if I die, it will not
be because they did not put forth their best efforts.
Our past two days had been trying ones I had
not written my diary because so very weak. Day before
yesterday we caught sight of a caribou, but it was
on our lee and winding us got away before a

(01:07:44):
shot could be fired. Yesterday, at an old camp, we
found the end we could cut from a flower bag.
It had a bit of flour sticking to it. We
boiled it with our old cariboo bones and a thickened
the broth a little. We also found a can of
mustard we had thrown away. I sat and held it
in my hand a long time, thinking how it came
from hungers and our home, and what a happy home
it was. Then I took a bite of it and
it was very good. We mixed some in our bone

(01:08:05):
broth and it seemed to stimulate us. We had a
bit of cariboo skin in the same pot. It swelled, thickened,
was very good. Last night I fell asleep while the
boys were reading to me. This morning, I was very
very sleepy. After the boys left, they left me tea,
the caribou bones and another end of flour. Sack found
here a rawhide, karabou mucksen, and some yeast cakes. I
drank a cup of strong tea and some bone broth.
I also ate some of the really delicious rawhide boiled

(01:08:27):
with the bones, and it made me stronger strong to
write this. The boys have only tea and one half
pound pemeal herbs. Worst our parting was the most affecting.
I did not feel so bad. George said, the Lord
help us Hubbard with his help, I'll save you if
I can get out. Then he cried, so did Wallace.
Wallace stooped and kissed my cheek with his poor sunken
bearded lips several times, and I kissed his. George did

(01:08:49):
the same, and I kissed his cheek. Then they went away.
God bless and help them. I am not so greatly
in doubt as to the outcome. I believe they will
reach the flower and be strengthened, that Wallas will reach me.
George will find Bleak's cash and camp and send help.
So I believe we will all get out. My tent
is pitched an open tent style in front of a
big rock. The rock reflects the fire, but now it
is going out because of the rain. I think I

(01:09:10):
shall let it go out and close the tent till
the rain is over, thus keeping out wind and saving
wood to night or tomorrow, Perhaps the weather will improve,
so I can build a fire, eat the rest of
my moccasins, and have some bone broth. Then I can
boil my belt and oil tanned moccasins and a pair
of cowhide mittens. They ought to help some. I am
not suffering. The acute pangs of hunger have given way
to indifference. I am sleepy. I think death from starvation

(01:09:32):
is not so bad, but let no one suppose that
I expect it. I am prepared, that is all. I
think the boys will be able, with the Lord's help,
to save me. End of section nineteen

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19 - Womans Way Through Unknown Labrador by Mina Benson Hubbard

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