A Woman's Way Through Unknown Labrador Part 19

Sat.u.r.day, October 10th.--We fished all before noon and did not get any at all. So we had to start off from there, seeing it was no use in trying to fish any more. We came to some more rapids in the afternoon. Wallace and I ran some with empty canoe, and then went back for our dunnage, while Mr. Hubbard would fish. It got very cold in the afternoon. Mr. Hubbard caught about twenty little trout. Looking forward we hoped next day to get to our old camp, Camp Caribou, where we killed our caribou August 12th. We thought that may be we will find some of the old bones so as to make some broth, thinking it would help us some. We camped just near the river where we could get lots of wood, and have a good camp fire so we could sit beside the camp fire and have a good talk about home.

Mr. Hubbard tells me he will get a room for me in New York. He again that night asked me to stay with him a couple of months in Congers before I go home to Missanabie, and also to pay him a visit real often, and also that he would never go out doing any travelling without me.

He said, "I am sure Mrs. Hubbard will not be able to do enough for you, especially when she knows how good you have been to me. I would like to have you come with me to Michigan. I am sure my sister would like to have you tell them the story about our trip."

Sunday, October llth.--Had four small trout for lunch, only little larger than a sardine. Late in the evening we came to our old camp, where we had the caribou. Most of the bones were carried off by some animals. Picked up all we could find and made some broth, and very, very strong broth too, which I suppose no one could hardly believe that any human being could eat. The bones were full of maggots, and when it boiled for some time the maggots would boil out. It just looked like if it had been little rice in it. We drunk it up maggots and all. It was pretty high, but found it good. Nothing was too bad for us to eat.

Monday, October 12th.--Fine day. In the morning we had bone broth again and tea. We started off carrying all the bones we could find in our pail, also taking the caribou horns with us. At noon we had broth and piece of the hide we got off from the caribou horns. In the evening we came to a rapid. Hubbard and I nearly swamped the canoe, and part of the rapid was too rough to run. It was only just a short lift over, about 100 feet. The three of us took the canoe, and before getting over we dropped it. We were getting so weak that it took the three of us to carry the canoe, and yet we couldn't even that distance. We looked at each other, but none complained of his weakness. We found we could not go any farther without something to eat. We ate one of Mr. Hubbard's old moccasins, made out of caribou skin, that he made himself. We boiled it in the frying pan, till it got kind of soft, and we shared in three parts. Each had his share and found it good, and also drank up the water where it was boiled in. At night we had some tea, and it freshened us up some.

Tuesday, October 13th.--Wind raw and cold. We came to a little fall we had to carry over, quite short, about 40 feet portage, but our canoe we hadn't the strength to carry. We had to drag it over the rocks.

I shot a whisky jack, and we had it along with our bone broth and tea. Not knowing what our next meal would be, or whether we will ever have the pleasure of enjoying another meal, it looked very much like starvation.

My back was aching quite a bit that day. Touch of lumbago. It made things worse for me. I thought it would be impossible for me to try and go any farther. So I told Mr. Hubbard that if I did not feel any better in the morning, they could go on and try to make their way out and leave me behind, because I did not want to delay them in the least. For all, I was sure they would never make their way out; but I thought they might try anyway. Mr. Hubbard was very, very sorry about it; but he said he hoped I'd be better in the morning.

Wednesday, October 14th.--The boys were up before me and had a fire on. It was some time before I could get up; but I was feeling better than I did the night before. Before noon I shot a duck with the rifle. We were very happy boys.

At noon we came to the place where we had planned some time ago to leave the canoe and cross over to the Nascaupee again. We had our nice duck for lunch, and enjoyed it very much. Mr. Hubbard then asked me if I could find the flour we had thrown away some time in July, along the Nascaupee.

"Yes," I said, "if no animal has carried it away. It is over 20 miles from here."

"Then," he said, "I think we better leave the canoe and march over to the Nascaupee."

And the reason why I did not try and persuade him more than I did for us not to leave the Big River was, we thought perhaps there would be lots of places where we could not run our canoe in some wild rapids, and would have to carry our canoe. I knew the last two days how we were when trying to carry our canoe, and we also thought that if we were travelling through the bush we would surely come across some partridges and help us to the flour, and the flour would help us to the lard, about three pounds, and some milk and coffee 3 miles from Grand Lake. Also as we only know the river above there, of course, we did not know where the river ran to.

The boys thought it ran out to Goose Bay, as Low's map showed only the one river running into Grand Lake. Also at Rigolette, trying to find out all we could, and at Northwest River too, n.o.body ever said about any river but the Nascaupee. Still I said it might run out into Grand Lake.

So the canoe, one axe, the s.e.xtant box, and the rest of the caribou horns we left; but the bones we carried with us in our pail, which we boiled over and over to make broth. The bones, since we had them, we would scorch in the fire at night, and chew away at them.

Was pretty hard chewing.

I told the boys when we decided to leave the canoe, that we had better leave everything we have, so we would make better time; but we didn't want to waste any time after our nice duck, but go right on while we have yet some strength from it. So we didn't wait to overhaul our stuff. We traveled 2 miles from the Big River that afternoon. We found our packs too heavy to carry, and decided to lighten up in the morning.

That evening Mr. Hubbard said, "Mrs. Hubbard this evening will be now at dinner, and after her meal will finish with lot more on the table. Oh, if she could only hand me a piece of bread!"

Thursday morning, October 15th.--We threw away lots of dunnage, also some films and one rifle. Mr. Hubbard was very sorry to leave his flask. He had often spoken of it being a present from Mrs.

Hubbard.

I shot three partridges after noon with the pistol. We were so glad. Mr. Hubbard was more than glad. He came and shook hands with me.

We were trying to reach our old camping place on our way up, Goose Camp we called it, but we were all feeling so very weak especially Mr. Hubbard. At last he could not go any farther. I told him it was about 40 yards to where our old camp was. So we made him leave his load and he followed us. I, with the greatest hurry, started a fire and made him a cup of tea. We as usual sat up near our fire for some time, trying to encourage each other about what good things we would have, after we got to New York.

Friday, October 16th.--For breakfast we ate one partridge leaving the other for lunch. Threw more things away, one blanket and more films, and at noon more things left behind. I had a good suit of underwear with me, saving it till cold weather, but that day at noon I left everything belonging to me. I was too weak to take off the bad and put on the good. Also left some films and--came to the Nascaupee.

That day just before noon, we came to a place where Mr. Hubbard had caught some fish when we were going up, and we thought that perhaps we could get some fish there again, but the little stream was nearly dry. We sat down and had a rest.

A little lake about 400 Yards from us on our way. This little stream ran into the lake. Just near the lake I saw a caribou coming along following this little river to where we were.

I told the boys, "There's a caribou coming along."

We all fell flat on the ground; but he was on the lee side of us and soon found out we were there. He stood--behind some little trees and had his head up looking towards where we were, and all of a sudden he was gone, and we didn't have the chance to fire. I got up. A swamp I knew of. I made for that swamp thinking I would cut across him. I tried to run, yet I was so very, very weak. Oh! how hard I tried to run. But when I got out there he was across on the other side. I was away for some time, yet when I came to the boys, they were still lain the same way, and their faces to the ground, and did not move till I spoke to them. We were more than sorry about the caribou, and each one said what he would do, and how much we could eat if we killed that caribou and that we would stay right there for a few days till we got a little stronger.

Though I was feeling so very weak myself, when we would have nothing else but tea, as we often just had tea, nothing else, when I would hand the boys a cup of tea each, I would ask them to pa.s.s it back, as I would pretend I'd forgotten to put any sugar in.

They would pretend that they didn't care for sugar, and refuse to have some. Then I would ask them if they would have some bread or some pie.

Mr. Hubbard would say, "PIE! What is pie? What do they use it for? Do they eat it?"

This I did often to encourage them and myself, that we might forget the danger ahead; but it was something impossible to forget, as the hunger and weakness pained us, and I thought we would not be able to go many more days if we don't succeed in killing anything.

That evening we hadn't the strength of chopping our wood. Just gathered the small, dry pieces we found near our camp. We also put up our camp in an easy way we thought. Three little poles were required to keep up our tent. They were quite handy; but it took me some time before I could cut them down.

That day at noon, when I left my dunnage bag with lots of films in, and hung the bag on a short stump, Mr. Hubbard told me, "If we get out safe to Northwest River, I think you or I might stay there this winter, and try and get out some of the things we are leaving, especially the films. If we could get out in time of the last trip of the _Virginia Lake_, Wallace and you could go home. Or if you would stay, Wallace and I could go home."

I told him I would be very much in a hurry to go home, and wouldn't wish to stay out here for the winter. "But if you wish, and rather have me stay, I will stay for the winter and try and get the things out for you."

He was so glad about it and said, "It will be better, of course, if you would stay, as you could make a better guess for the things than I would."

Sat.u.r.day, October 17th.--We followed the river, and without anything to eat all day. Only tea we had. Sometimes we would be completely done out. Then we would make some tea and help us some and start on again. This we kept on doing all day.

That evening we came to the junction of the river where it branches off. About half an hour before we came to the branch we had a fire, as Mr. Hubbard was feeling cold and chilly all day. Just at the forks we found a few red berries, and to see if I could find some more I just went about 20 yards from them. When I found none and returned to see them, Mr. Hubbard was lying down on the damp rocks and moss. He looked so pitiful and Wallace sitting near him.

I told him not to lie on the damp moss, and asked him if I'd better make him a cup of tea.

"Yes," he said, "I think if I had a cup of hot tea I'd feel better and then go on again."

He could hardly speak. I knew he was very weak. I asked him if he could get to where we camped before going up, where it was nice and dry, about 20 yards. He said he would try. I took his and my pack and he followed us. He could just barely walk. We made him a place near the fire, and gave him a cup of hot tea, and made him a cup of pea meal.

We put the camp up the best way we could and gathered enough wood to last all night.

The flour we were coming for was yet 10 miles away, and the advance in covering so many miles each day, became less and less each day.

So after we had some tea and bone broth, I thought, seeing it was no use trying to keep it to ourselves any longer, the danger before us, I would tell them what was in my mind (not about restaurants this time) before it was too late. Seeing that death was just near, which anyone else, if in our place, would expect nothing else but death, they were quite satisfied and each did the same.

Mr. Hubbard talked about Mrs. Hubbard, and his father and mother, and his brother and sister, but most about Mrs. Hubbard. Wallace talked of his sisters and I did the same, especially my youngest brother, as my father and mother died some years ago and he was left under my care. It was quite a different talk beside the other nights' talk, as we never let a night pa.s.s without being talking about good restaurants, and what we would do when we got home.

About 10 miles from there the flour was we were looking forward to.

So I told Mr. Hubbard to see what he would think. If he couldn't really have the strength of going any farther, that Wallace and I would try and go and find the flour, and if we found it one would return and bring some of the flour to him, and the other would try and make his way out to Northwest River, as it is nearly 80 miles to Northwest River post, and may be I might come across some trappers and be able to help him.

He at first said it was no use of trying, as he knew how weak we were and that we would only be scattered abroad.

Should a relief party be sent out to look for us, they will find us here in our camp; but if you wish to try all right. You are more than trying to save me. I never came across a man so brave as you are. Still I may feel better in the morning, and I will not carry anything. Now I see that you were right when we left the canoe.

You wanted to leave everything and go out light.

If you get to the flour, you must take most of the flour and Wallace will bring the rest. As we will be staying in one place we will not require as much as you will, because if you fail on the way, it will mean sure death to us too. And if you happen to come on some trappers, just send them with grub, and don't come up yourself as you will be too weak. Or if you get to Northwest River, Mr. M'Kenzie will find men to send, and you will stay there.

If I should starve and you get out, Mr. M'Kenzie will help you in all you need, and will keep you there this winter. By the first boat you will go to New York, and my diary don't give to anyone but to Mrs. Hubbard. Tell her how things happened, and that I don't suffer now as I did at first, only so very, very weak, and I think starvation is an easy death to die.

"I wish you could only see my father and mother, or my sister, so as to tell them about our trip. I wish I could tell them how good you were to me. But you must go to Mrs. Hubbard.

"I am sorry, boys. It is my work the reason why you are out here.

If I did not come out here you would have been at your home and having all that you need and would not meet death so soon."

I told him not to be troubled by that. "If we didn't want to come we could have stayed at home. So don't put the blame on yourself."