inquiries as to the probability of our
getting fish and game, Donald said there were bears along the
Nascaupee, but few other animals. He had never fished the waters above
Grand Lake, but believed plenty of fish were there. On Seal Lake there
was a "chance" seal, and he had taken an occasional shot at them, but
they were very wild and he had never been able to kill any.

Strange as it may seem, none of the men with whom we talked mentioned
that more than one river flowed into Grand Lake, although they
unquestionably knew that such was the case. Their silence about this
important particular was probably due to the fact, that while the
Labrador people are friendly to strangers, they are somewhat shy and
rarely volunteer information, contenting themselves, for the most part,
with simple answers to direct questions. Furthermore, they are seldom
able to adopt a point of view different from their own, and thus are
unable to realise the amount of guidance a stranger in their country
needs. In fact I discovered later that Skipper Blake and his son, who
have spent all their lives in the vicinity of Hamilton Inlet, never
dreamed anyone could miss the mouth of the Nascaupee River, as they
themselves knew so well how to find it.

We were sitting in the office of the post on Sunday, comfortably away
from the fog that lay thick outside, when we were startled by a
steamship whistle. Out we all ran, and there, in the act of dropping
her anchor, was the Pelican, the company's ship from England. In the
heavy fog she had stolen in and whistled before the flag was raised,
which feat Captain Grey, who commands the Pelican, regarded as a great
joke on the post. Once a year the Pelican arrives from England, and
the day of her appearance is the Big Day for all the Labrador posts, as
she brings the year's supplies together with boxes and letters from
home for the agents and the clerks. From Rigolet she goes to Ungava,
then returns to Rigolet for the furs there and once more steams for
England.

We found Captain Grey to be a jolly, cranky old seadog of the old
school. He has been with the Hudson's Bay Company for thirty years,
and has sailed the northern seas for fifty. He shook his head
pessimistically when he heard about our expedition. "You'll never get
back," he said. "But if you happen to be at Ungava when I get there,
I'll bring you back." "Sandy" Calder, the owner of lumber mills on
Sandwich Bay and the Grand River, who