it would be near the water at low tide.
He and I then threw down the tent, lay on it, pulled a blanket over us
and prepared for sleep. It was about eleven o'clock, and darkness was
just beginning to fall. Out in the bay a whale was blowing, and in the
distance big gulls were screaming. It was our first night out in the
open in Labrador, and all was new and entrancing; and as slumber
gradually enwrapped us, it seemed to us that we had fallen upon
pleasant times.

At one o'clock (Friday morning) we awoke. By the light of the
brilliant moon we made coffee, called George and Steve and ate our
breakfast of cold salmon and hardtack. George's lumbago was very bad,
and he was unable to do any work. The rest of us portaged the outfit
two hundred yards to the boat, which, owing to Steve's miscalculations
as to the tide, we found high and dry on the rocks. Working in the
shallow water, with a cloud of mosquitoes around our heads, it took us
until 4.30 o'clock to launch her, by which time daylight long since had
returned.

Once more afloat, we found that the wind had entirely died away, and
Steve's sculling pushed the boat along but slowly. Grampuses raised
their big backs everywhere, and seals, upon which they prey, were
numerous. The water was alive with schools of caplin. At eleven
o'clock we made Pompey Island, a mossy island of Laurentian rock about
thirty-five miles from Indian Harbour. Here we stopped for luncheon,
and after much looking around, succeeded in finding enough sticks to
build a little fire. I made flapjacks, and Hubbard melted sugar for
syrup.

While we were eating, I discovered in the far distance the smoke of a
steamer. We supposed it to be the Julia Sheridan. Rushing our things
into the boat, we put off as quickly as possible to intercept her. We
fired three or four shots from our rifle, but got only a salute in
recognition. Then Hubbard and I scramble into the canoe, which we had
in tow, and began to paddle with might and main to head her off. As we
neared her, we fired again. At that she came about--it was the
Virginia Lake. They took us on board, bag, baggage, and canoe, and
Steve was dismissed.

In an hour we were in sight of Rigolet, and I saw a Hudson's Bay
Company Post for the first time in my life. As our steamer approached,
a flag was run up in salute to the top of a tall staff, and when it had
been caught by the breeze, the Company's initials, H. B. C., were
revealed. The C